#the gold one is from rook so it never really comes off and neither does the other one

[lavender-descendentheart]

thought I’d try my hand at writing for my Au so yeah guess it’s here doubt you will but hope you enjoy my latest piece of garbage

a cold game

She has always been cold, the monkey king thought, it was sort of her thing conjuring ice and all but this was a sort of coldness he would never get used to. The stale dead air in his lungs, the ever present whispering around him. And most of all HER, she had changed so much, and to such a extent that if it wasn’t for the familiar glow in her eyes he wouldn’t be able to tell it was her at all.

blue moves bishop forward

She looks up at him,”you seem troubled” she asks with what he could easily mistake for a sign that everything was normal. that she was intact he was intact,”I’m perfectly fine just thinking about how you got the decorations up in here ya know” he lies

Gold takes rook of blue

he knows she knows but she doesn’t comment on it and neither does he.” So” he opens prompting her attention” why are you not yourself?” He asks bringing attention to the proverbial elephant in the room.” What do you mean?” The spirit replies.” You know exactly what I mean, why are you not yourself? Why are you in the body of a child?” He asks firmer this time,” this host had proven quite useful so I fail to see the harm in keeping them around a little while longer”

blue takes pawn of gold

“your dodging” he states she knew she always knew what he mean’s the demon sighs,” what would I dodge? There is nothing to avoid” the lady replies. His eyes narrow” besides the smell of rot and ash coming from you” He says, she stiffens” show me, please” he asks and much to his relief she obliges casting off her host for the moment. Black locks turns to white, blue gaze becomes red and whispers grow louder. And he sees her.

She’s different, her form looks mutilated compared to his last memory of it. Her cheeks were now lined with ashen fangs. Her sclerae had become a deep black, her waist was lined in broken chains. She had cracks emanating flickers of blue coming from her eyes, Her face vaguely resembled a jackal now. He had thought her imprisonment would be kinder then his, it appeared he had been gravely mistaken. The silence is deafening as the smell of rot and death fills the room.

blue takes bishop of gold

she’s not looking at him anymore driving her blood colored eyes to the board, the little game they play still.” I still don’t see why you didn’t show me before it’s not bad really” he says in hopes of grabbing her gaze.

blue moves two spaces

she’s silent, stiller then the dead.” What will you do?” He asks. Now that grabs her attention, her eyes snap towards him” I will continue on as my destiny foretells” she says robotically the whispers grow louder yet still he can’t understand them, unlike before so long ago.” That’s not what I meant, what will YOU do?” He asks hoping he will receive answer he worries for her, he could handle imprisonment it was something he was familiar with but her? He had no idea what has happened to her.

CHECKMATE Blue wins

she flickers, warping back into the visage of her host, then she turns to the monkey she called friend” I very much enjoyed this opportunity to catch up with you peachling, we should do this again in the future goodbye sun” she says before making her leave from their shared space. He grimaces but quickly puts forth a smile” it’s been nice to see ya too blue” he says with a crafted smile

much to his suprise she smiles back with warmth he thought she had long forgotten,” I don’t know” she says.”wha-“ he begins to ask what she means before she leaves and their space shatters. And he’s left alone once again,” don’t worry Blue I’ll find a way to fix you, but I need to check up on the Cub first” he says to no one in particular before calling his cloud. He takes a breath, and makes his way to his destination.

Yep that’s it here’s my garbage The Risen Shadow and Fallen Sun AU everyone! Misery for everyone involved

[megthemewlingquim]

This Is Your Wilderness

Summary: You learn new things about the world you have entered, both the easy way and the harder way.

Pairing: Adam x Reader

Warnings: foul language (it’s a given for Adam), violence, angst

A/N: This is for @just-the-hiddles 's 3500 Follower Writing Challenge! The prompt was Bliss: A shot of pure, self-indulgent euphoria! A scent that is very, very wicked in its own way: the serotonin-slathered scent of pure milk chocolate. This turned out to be much more angsty than I expected, and you can thank @empower-bi-women​ for that little nudge. This is also an AU where Ian never died.

“Adam, don’t be so paranoid. No one has come around for ages.”

The tall, dark figure at the window sighs. His fingers had only moved the curtain for a second, and he had peeked out and looked down, but now he shifts, lets the curtain fall again. His eyes glint in the dim lighting, and they seem black. “Yeah, but I’m still worried,” he mumbles.

“I could try and get them to stay away,” you say lightly, a suggestion you know will fail tremendously. “Say it’s all fake, what with you and your reclusiveness.” You fiddle with a chess piece, a white rook, in your right hand, glancing back up at Adam. “It’s no trouble.”

“You’re the only zombie I trust now, you know that.” Adam moves back over to where you sit cross-legged on the floor. “You’re all I have. I’ll be damned if I let you go out there alone.”

He sits back down across from you, eyeing his own black chess pieces. Currently, he is down two pawns. “Besides, if the Others find out about you, they’ll… fuck, they’ll kill you. They’d kill you and leave me alone. Because they’d want me to suffer.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches. Adam never speaks about the “Others” — at least, never more than a mention of the name.

“Why?” you ask. “Why would they want that?”

“Because I don’t care about their fucking wars. The zombies cause enough trouble as it is. When the vampires and werewolves started their clans, I was not there to join them. I was... I was actually trying to settle down with someone.”

“That’s why you’re in hiding? Because you love?”

“I love, yes. I love and I care and I don’t just survive. This isn’t the goddamn 14th century anymore. I don’t just drink someone and throw their body in a ditch. I get my blood from hospitals. That is if it isn’t fucking... contaminated.” Adam winces. “That’s how Marlowe died.”

“Wait, who’s Marlowe?” you ask. “Was he a friend of yours? Another vampire like yourself?”

He smiles, an amused hum leaving him. “Yeah, he was a friend. Eve knew him longer than I did but we were friends. He was a visionary, an absolute genius. He wrote most of Shakespeare’s plays, y’know.”

You have to take a second to process this, and another to make the timeline match up. “You don’t mean the Christopher Marlowe?”

“He was one of Shakespeare’s biggest influences... and one of Shakespeare's real writers.” Adam smiles. “He really died a couple of years ago. Blood poisoning from a French hospital.”

“Is that why you only use me for your blood?” you ask softly. He nods. You look down, realizing the severity of it all. “So no drugs, huh?” you ask jokingly.

He laughs, a small amused chuckle. “Yeah, no. Drugs... if you’re still helping me out, are off limits. The occasional coffee is okay.”

“‘S okay with me.” You shrug. “As long as you stay safe.”

“And I can say the same to you,” Adam says, coming back over to sit beside you. He brings you close, resting his chin on your head and cuddling you from behind. “All I’d ever want is for you to be safe. Which is why I can’t have you talking to the Others... or anyone who might know them. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I do.”

After a long pause, you perk up.

“We should go to the store.” You glance at the electric clock, which reads 1:43 AM. “I’m sure some convenience stores are open. Do you need anything?”

“You ask me that every time we go,” Adam mumbles amiably. “I don’t need anything, no, but I’ll go with you if you want.”

And so you go.

All you get at the end of the trip is a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, and some milk chocolate bars (an essential in your opinion). 

“I’ll go for my actual shopping tomorrow,” you say, getting the gallon out of the freezer. 

The air is cold all through the tiny store, and the surprisingly satisfying scent of beer cooler is all around you. Adam wears his sunglasses and gloves, and looks around the shelves. He has nothing in his hands.

He glances at you. “Okay,” he says hesitantly, standing quite rigidly.

When you step up to the counter, the cashier looks suspiciously at Adam, who stands behind you, looking at a beer bottle: it has a tiny little Dracula on it. He is reading the flavor: blood orange.

It seems like the cashier had not heard the two of you talking, but had only seen you look at each other.

“Is this man here, uh, bothering you, miss?” he whispers.

You do not see it, but Adam’s head lifts, just a little.

“N-no,” you say, trying to make your voice as firm as possible. “No, I’m with him, actually.”

The cashier nods. “Uh huh,” he had said, not sounding convinced at all.

Adam comes up to accompany you at the register. Even through his glasses, you can see that his gaze is piercing. “She’s with me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to leave.”

Maybe it’s something about Adam’s gaze or his dark tone: the cashier looks slightly worried, but he does what he was told. In a few seconds, you are out, Adam following closely behind you.

“Don’t want anyone coming close to my girl,” he mutters, his breath steaming in the crisp air. “Even if he means well. We’re out in the open now. And I can’t take any chances.”

Without saying anything in response, you both make it into Adam’s car, your little plastic bag sitting peacefully near your legs. Adam turns the key and the car rumbles to a start, and he is just about to shift into drive when he looks up.

He freezes, nostrils flaring in anger. His grip on the shift tightens, and your eyes go from his gloved hand to the dashboard, to see what he sees.

As if on cue...

There are three middle aged men in front of the car, almost completely shrouded by the darkness. The sides of their faces are lit up from the left by the white light of the store’s inside.

Their eyes seem black, and their faces are deathly pale.

“Stay in the car,” Adam hisses, his voice dark and angry.

“Adam—” you try to protest.

“Stay. In. The fucking. Car.” Adam’s teeth are gritted, and his voice gets even angrier, if that’s possible, but he never takes his eyes off of the three men in front of you.

“Wh-what are they going to do? Wh-wh-who are they?” you ask, stammering.

“Lock the doors,” is all he says.

He takes the key out of the ignition. The car stops its rumbling. He opens his driver door and steps out, placing the key in his back jean pocket. He shuts the door behind him.

“Adam!” you whisper, knowing he can still hear you. “Adam, get back here! We can just drive away.”

You see him mouth something: No.

You lock the doors.

Your ears are unable to pick up what they all say: but I will fill in the details.

One of the men steps forward, his white teeth showing in a sickly sweet smile. “Adam,” he says, welcoming in tone. “It’s been a while. When was it we last saw each other, hmm? 1805?”

“Walter… Henry… Jesse,” Adam says quietly, nodding at each of the men. “It has been a while, yes.”

The first man — Walter — glances toward you, and winks. “We've come to talk to you about enlisting. But... this is much more interesting. What’cha got there, huh? A little mouse?”

The name is not positive, nor is it cute. With Adam, it would be. But, right now…

You’re already petrified. From a wink, and a bittersweet smile. 

Your heart pounds.

You know, then, that they can hear it. All of them. They can hear your heart racing, the blood rushing through it. They can probably see you shaking, hear the breath leaving your mouth in trembling whispers.

Adam. Adam, run.

“She’s no one,” Adam says darkly. “She...found out about me. I have to kill her. She can’t know about me. About us.”

“How did she find out?” asks another man. Quite tall, nice looking, with light brown hair and stubble at the jaw and cheeks. A gold chain is around his neck, and he wears a brown jacket and white t-shirt. He is also pale, extremely pale, just like his friends, and his eyes seem black.

“There was a friend of mine who broke the confidentiality agreement. That friend is dead now. I killed him, too. But she also has to go.”

“Did she tell anyone?”

“No, Jesse, she didn’t.”

“Good,” the third man — Henry — says. He looks nice, too. Black hair, olive skin. He looks a little older than Jesse or Walter, though. “We can’t let that happen, now, can we?”

“Hey…” Walter says, getting an idea. His smile is not a good one. “Why don’t we help you out? She’s gonna die anyway, isn’t she?”

Adam, by all means, should say yes. It would give him some more time to banter, to discuss horrible ways of torture and death. It would help to keep your cover. He should shrug, say yes, and let you out of the car. Then, he should rip the other three vampires to shreds.

But he doesn’t.

Adam growls — and though you are not able to hear it, you can see his expression. It is hunger, it is defiance, and it is anger. “You are not to touch her. She’s mine: mine to kill, mine to torture — ”

“Yours to marry, yours to love?” Walter asks, mockingly. “Yours to fuck?”

Adam freezes.

“Nobody we know — you least of all — would ever get that protective of a fuckin’ zombie. What are you not telling us, Adam?”

“Get the fuck away from us,” Adam snarls, suddenly furious. “I don’t want any part in your little wars — and neither does she.”

“So you’re admitting it,” Jesse says, almost excitedly. “You love her, don’t you? That's what this is about?”

“That, and the fact that that he hasn't joined a clan in his entire existence,” Walter murmurs over to Jesse. “We discussed that already.”

“I told you once, I’ve told you a million times: I don’t want to be involved with you,” Adam groans.

“You know it’s frowned upon. Both things,” Jesse says.

“A vampire hasn’t mated with a zombie in centuries. And you remember how that went, don’t you?” Walter takes a singular step forward.

Adam’s eyes narrow. “Don’t,” he growls, his voice practically dropping a whole octave with anger.

“It’s only for the good of our survival, Adam. You mustn’t blame us,” Henry says, a mad glint in his eye.

The next five seconds happen with lightning speed. You only recognize the sound and feel of broken glass when it hits you, and a bloodied hand unlocks the door. You blink, it seems, and you’re suddenly pulled roughly out of the car and onto the cold pavement below. Then, you’re hoisted up into someone’s grasp, and into standing position. They still hold you tightly and roughly, and their grip is harsh. A cold hand is slapped onto your mouth.

You scream through it, though, your voice muffled and frantic.

In an instant, Adam’s alert, animalistic, beastly. He growls again, and spits out, “You will not harm her!”

“Adam, what are they doing?” you pant frantically through the hand covering your mouth, knowing that he can hear it loud and clear.

“We’re gonna fuckin’ skin you alive,” the one holding you whispers, gripping you even tighter when you flail and whimper in fear.

“No, you won’t,” Adam murmurs. “Let her go.”

“How do you think this’ll go, Adam?” Henry asks. “You think you’re gonna come out on top? You think you’re gonna stay away from our destiny? You need to help us, Adam. You need to be a good soldier and join us in the wars.”

“I’ll die first!” spits Adam.

“No. You won’t. But she will... whether you say yes or no. Because you’ve gone against our code anyway. Being with... and mating with... a mortal. Now, Adam, you’re better than this.” Henry’s tone becomes condescending. 

Adam’s eyes glint with offense and anger. “If you say one more word, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Not if we kill her first.”

You hear something, then. The breathy sigh of someone holding you... it sounds like a grin. A hungry grin.

You’ve heard that noise before. It happens whenever Adam drinks blood... yours included.

Your stomach drops to your feet.

A childish, delusional part of you wants to say something. Hey, ya want some chocolate? We got some in the car, it smells really good! Really sweet! Sweeter than blood!

You go mad, flailing and screaming, trying desperately to escape, but the one holding you keeps you in his grasp.

“It’s dinnertime,” Henry says, and his voice is a growl.

The next ten seconds happen in a blur. You hear several whooshing noises, feel light brushes of wind all around you, and see blurs of black, white, and gray all around you. You also hear growling — feral, ferocious, angry growls.

You land on the pavement, scraping your knees. Not enough to draw blood, but they sting all the same. In a frantic rush, you scramble as far away from the fight as possible. And that is what it is — a fight. A fight between four —

Three vampires. One of them has dropped to the ground in a heap. You fight the urge to vomit when you notice his head is at an extremely abnormal angle. It is not Adam, however.

Adam was the one, you realize, that has broken the vampire you don’t know to be Jesse’s neck. Adam is lunging, swiping, roaring at the other vampires, who are doing the same. They dodge each other’s grasping hands and punches. You can see flashes of white in the middle of this: fangs.

“Go!” Adam screams, and the breath leaves your lungs. You’ve never heard Adam shout. His voice has never risen above an indoor voice or a menacing mutter.

“Not without you!” you cry desperately. “Adam, they’ll kill you!”

“RUN!” 

This time, you know there’s no argument to be had. You run as fast as you can away from the scene, tears stinging your eyes and your legs burning with the effort.

Eventually, you have to stop your running and settle for walking on the cracked sidewalks. Something howls as the night grows deeper and darker. Fortunately, you know the way home, and you also know that whatever is out there, howling at the moon, will not hurt you. Adam made sure of that one.

You’re a lone figure, shrouded in darkness, walking back to safety with cold arms and stinging knees. Occasionally, you glance behind your shoulder, but you don’t see anything.

After a long while, you start to hear the rumble of a car’s engine driving up behind you. You look behind you and see that this car is driving quite close to the sidewalk. Moving further to your right, you avoid it — that is, until it slows to your walking pace and stays beside you. Keeping your head down, you try to walk a little faster. The car, you notice, looks a bit like Adam’s, but it is not. Your heart pounds, and you almost start to run when a car window is rolled down, and —

“Hey — what’re you doin’ out here?” A soft voice. He sounds like he’d be a surfer in another life.

You recognize it. “I-I-Ian?” you stammer, your eyes widening. You turn to the car and exhale a sob of complete relief. It is Ian, driving slowly beside you and looking at you with the utmost concern.

Ian has known you for a long while, ever since you started dating Adam. He has always been sweet, kind, and considerate, and has always been a good friend to the both of you.

“Y-yeah,” Ian says softly, “what... what’s the matter, sweetheart? You ok?”

You shake your head. “No,” you mutter. “A-Adam got into some trouble. We were attacked in the parking lot of some shitty convenience store. He t-t-told me to run, and I did. R-Reluctantly.” 

“Holy shit...that’s fucked up,” Ian says incredulously. He leans “Is Adam still there?”

You feel tears rising to your eyes again and you sniff. “I don’t know where he is... or if he’s ok, and — and — I don’t wanna go home and wait and find out that —” Your voice is dangerously close to cracking.

“Hey,” Ian says, his voice a little firmer now. It still keeps its compassion. “Y’want me to take you home?”

“Would you?” you ask desperately.

“Of course, sweetheart, come on in.” He leans over and, with a little grimace of exertion, unlocks and opens the door. You can't get into the car fast enough. You slam the door beside you and slump against the seat.

“We're gonna get you home, ok? It's not far from here. Want me to turn the heater on?”

You drive in silence for most of the trip. Ian must know you don't want to talk too much.

Ian's head comes into your peripheral vision. You're looking down at your feet.

“Hey... Adam's gonna be fine,” he says softly. “He can take care of himself. Something about him just tells me that. My guess is that he's driving home now, actually. He probably fucking destroyed whoever did this to you.”

You nod. You know it's true.

“He cares about you a lot. He loves you. I've... I've never seen Adam look at someone the way he looks at you. Well, maybe except his wife. But... that was some time ago. And she—”

He stops himself. You can both feel the tension there, and you shuffle nervously in your seat.

“Anyway,” Ian continues hesitantly, “he — he cares about you. He'll come back, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

You get to the house, Ian driving slowly up to the curb. The house, as always, is dark.

“Check the back?” you ask. Ian drives further, and you crane your neck to eye the garden. There's an empty spot where the car normally would be.

Your heart sinks.

“Hey, sweetheart...” Ian says. “It's alright... I'm sure he's just...” But he trails off. “A fight wouldn't take this long,” he mutters under his breath. You can still hear it.

There's a pause in which none of you move. You're hesitant to get out of the car and into the house. Ian watches you, waits for you. The rumble of the car is quiet and hypnotic.

“I don't... I don't wanna go in alone,” you say, and you inwardly scoff at your own childishness.

“I can stay with you if you want,” Ian says. “Adam mostly leaves his doors unlocked, doesn't he?”

“Yeah.”

“Why is that?”

You hesitate. “I don't know.”

But you do know. Regular people are pretty much out of the question — they wouldn't come in, because they think the house is abandoned. If they do come in, Adam could play it off as nothing suspicious and get them to leave as soon as possible. The werewolves wouldn't hurt you, and vampires suffer awfully bad luck if they enter a threshold uninvited. If the Others did come in, well... Adam could take care of them, couldn't he?

“Maybe it's because he's all reclusive. He probably doesn't think anyone will actually come in. Those rock 'n roll kids are exactly that. Kids. They won't do anything.”

You nod. “Er... could you stay with me, Ian? Please?”

He smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “I can do that.”

Ian parks the car on the edge of the road, and shuts off the engine. The cold seeps in your skin again and reaches your bones.

You both get out of the car and walk up to the door. It opens without any struggle.

The house itself is completely dark, and there's no sign of Adam anywhere. The room upstairs — Adam's studio — is completely silent and dark, and he's not in his bed.

Without any words, you two go into his studio again and turn on some lights. Together, you sit on his couch and wait.

After some time, Ian sits up suddenly.

“Oh, shit! We should've called the cops!” Ian cries.

You shake your head. “No,” you say.

Ian looks at you, baffled.

“Ian, Adam's... not one for the police. And, like we said before, Adam can take care of himself. He's strong like that. I'm sure he's...” you trail off. “I'm sure he's fine.”

“Did they have any weapons on them?”

“I don't think so,” you say, remembering the flashes of pointy white teeth.

“Then, what the hell happened afterward? Why isn't Adam back yet? If they didn't have any weapons, and you know Adam can throw a punch and take care of himself, then why the hell isn't he back yet?”

“I don't know,” you say miserably. A part of you thinks Ian is somehow mad at you, but the rational part of you takes over, and decides that he is not.

Ian pauses.

“Fuck it, I'm calling the cops.”

“No,” says a voice behind you. It is sharp and commanding, but you recognize it in a heartbeat.

You turn to look. Standing in the doorway, all battered, bruised, bloodied, is Adam. His sunglasses are nowhere to be found, and neither are his gloves.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper, rushing toward him. Immediately, you're engulfed in his scent, his warmth, his comforting embrace. It's a rush of relief. “You're — you're okay,” you whisper, sniffing as tears of relief come to your eyes.

“Baby, it's alright,” Adam murmurs, “I'm here. I'm here and I'm okay. It's all OK. We're fine.” He rubs your back with a hand.

“Adam, what the fuck happened, man?” Ian asks. “We were worried sick.”

“I'm sorry,” Adam says. “That took way longer than expected. I was also questioned by the authorities. They're looking for the kids now.”

Something tells you that this is not what happened.

Ian looks at Adam skeptically. But, after a few seconds, he shrugs. “I mean... I'm just glad you're alright, man. And I'm glad she's safe, too.” He gestures toward you with a small smile.

“Thank you, Ian,” Adam says gratefully. “Thank you for keeping my love safe. Thank you for staying with her. Now... I think it's time for you to go... Do you need anything before you take off? You can piss in the garden if you need.”

“You sure you don't need anything? You wanna take a look at those bruises?”

“We'll be fine, thank you,” Adam says.

Ian blinks. “You never fail to amaze me, Adam.” He stands up, and rubs your shoulder. “G'night, sweetheart. You're in very good hands now.”

“Thanks, Ian. See you soon, ok?” you say.

“Alright.” He starts to walk down the stairs. “If you guys need anything at all, just hit me up. Later.”

You and Adam don't speak until you both hear his car driving away from the house.

“What did they do to you?” you ask immediately, suddenly frantic and worried, stepping away to get a good look at Adam.

You blink, it seems, and Adam's bruises, cuts, and overall tired appearance are gone. He looks perfectly normal now.

“They did that,” Adam says. “I killed two of 'em. One of them got away.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“No, thank God for that.”

But there's something... off... about the way Adam looks. He seems sad, worried.

“Adam... what is it?” you ask slowly.

“One of the Others got away. He's bound to have talked to his clan by now. I'm still not gonna join them. And I'm sure as hell not gonna give you away and leave you.”

“So... what's gonna happen?”

Adam takes a deep breath. “How do you feel about Tangier, Morocco?”

[malereader-inserts]

broken crown | x.

“As sad and dreadful as death may be, it forces to cherish every moment,” You had hummed out, turning your head to kiss the top of Harry’s head, “Everyone continues to defy the bad, because they see you, Harry. Hope.”

Word Count: 1,692

< Previous | Next >

Harry looked over to you. Lying still, Harry knew you were fine, you were breathing normal and you weren’t abnormally discoloured. The snake wound was closed, just fresh scars that was nasty to look at. But, Harry couldn’t help but feel guilty, he pulled up a chair to your bed before brushing parts of your hair out of your face.

He gets up to join Hermione outside, missing that you were starting to wake up. You groaned as you felt your neck, there was pain there but nothing much after - no blood painting your fingers as you swung your legs around. Stretching your legs as you could hear Harry’s and Hermione voices outside. You grabbed your coat as you exit the tent.

“Why is Harry’s wand broken?”

“I cast a curse and it rebounded,” Hermione says in a sadden tone, “How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly well,” You responded, shrugging your shoulders, “Here, it’s my turn to wear the locket anyway, let me stand on guard.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Harry,” You responded, “It’ll only be a few hours, and you wore it when we visited Godric’s Hallow, it’s only fair. I need the air anyway and I am the other one with a functional wand.”

Hermione strode to you, taking the locket off as she place it around you. Examining the wound and handing you the blanket, before making her way into the tent. You looked at Harry who sighs, you grabbed his hand before he leaves you alone. You kissed his knuckles, he gives you a strained smile before going back inside.

You sat down, allowing the blanket to cover you as you take out your book form inside your coat. Some times you would take your compass out, watching the arrow spin around, there were times it would point to Harry, other time it would point in a different direction with the only explanation it was pointing to your dad. 

You sighed as you snap it close. Looking up to the clearing, seeing nothing as you hold your hand out. Making shapes and figures out of golden dust you had produced. After some time, Harry comes out to check on you.

“I see you’re in your element,” Harry says, pointing to the gold dust ballerina dancing, “Out of curiosity, do you think you could defeat... him?”

You sat up straight as he sits next to you, “Possibly,” You looked at him, “Dumbledore could as well, and yet he didn’t. Perhaps there’s a reason, or it’s because it’s not our prophecy to fulfil.”

“Right...” Harry nodded as you looked at the golden figurine, blinking as it switches to a young man, praised by people, “You have something on your mind? You’ve be awfully weird.”

“We’re good people, Harry, but what if I get too caught up in the power? Hungry like...you know who? Merlin doesn’t know any of his descendants, he doesn’t know me personally, how does he know I won’t change like that-”

You snapped your fingers and the golden dust boy being praised by others had changed into a black dust, with the figurine shooting spells at the bystanders. Harry watched as you looked at the scene you had produced before allowing the wind to erase it.

“-What if this was a mistake?”

Harry looks at you, “I know you, (Y/n), you’re my best friend, you’re my boyfriend, the one I can trust with my whole life, I know you won’t turn bad. I’m sure you’ve heard from professors that the fates won’t allow it.”

You scoffed, “I don’t think I’d ever hear Harry James Potter talk about the fates,” as Harry shakes his head as you chuckled lightly as he bumps shoulders with you, “But, you’re right, that the thing with fate, you see, I guided my fate... And I'll decide who I am...I fashioned the course of my life and my death. Me. Not you. Not the gods. Not Merlin. Me."

“Well, you’re Merlin!” Harry says as you looked at him, “It’s our nickname for you, remember?”

“How can I forget?” There was no bitterness in your voice, after all, it wasn’t like your friends were expecting too much of you, it was the twins that started with the name, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Harry just picked up on it.

The two of you sat in silence as Harry leans his head against your shoulder.

“I was scared, you know?” Harry mumbled, coming closer to you and your warmth, “I know you weren’t injured badly but still, people have made sacrifices for me and-”

"Sometimes doing the right thing requires sacrifices and without sacrifices, there can be no victory,” You had spoken, as Harry keeps quiet, “Death is a funny thing, we’ve looked at Death’s eyes more than we should have. You and your journey to end You-Know-Who and me to unlock the cursed vaults of Merlin.”

“Death is an old friend of ours,” Harry whispered, watching the mist exit his mouth.

Harry and you share a bond, often unexplained to others. But, whilst Harry has experience death more than you everyone, in the end, experience loss. You two have been burden with a purpose you did not want, sharing bitterness. You were always there for him, patient with his outbursts and always there to listen to him just like he was to you. Sometimes, you two don’t need to say anything and you would understand.

There was mutual love, care and affection needed within two broken boys. Hiding the truth from the world, and facing the truth together. Many don’t believe that Potter and Lupin were dating after all, you weren’t often hands on with each other. But, Hermione and Ron see different types of affection, a different type of love.

“As sad and dreadful as death may be, it forces to cherish every moment,” You had hummed out, turning your head to kiss the top of Harry’s head, “Everyone continues to defy the bad, because they see you, Harry. Hope.”

“What if I don’t see that? The hope that I can make a better country.”

“While there is life, there is hope,” You say as Harry looks at you, you smiled at him softly, pushing hair from his eyes, “Don’t ever let Hermione give you a haircut.”

He chuckles, he looks down at the locket, slowly taking it from your neck and puts it on him. He shows that Hermione has given him her wand for the night as you give him the blanket. 

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

He smiles up at you as you stretched your legs, a glimmer in his eyes, “No promises.”

“I see Ron is back.”

The three of them looked at you as Ron looked at you sheepishly, waving at you. Sword at hand and the locket - broken. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hi, mate,” Ron greeted, before craning his neck, “What happened to your neck?”

You crossed your arms, “Snake attack.”

“Right.” Ron nods as Hermione sighs, looking at Harry.

You were sat on the stairs half-listening to Ron and Harry as you concentrate on your book. Blinking a few time as you struggle to read English. You only escaped the book as Hermione marched into the tent, causing all three of the boys to stand up.

“We need to talk,” She said, mostly towards Harry.

“Yeah, all right,” Harry nods as Hermione looked at him.

“I want to go see Xenophilius Lovegood,” Hermione stated as you and Harry share a look of confusion. 

“Sorry?” Harry questioned, confused.

Hermione sighs and gives Harry the book she had stolen from Baghilda’s home, “See this? It's a letter Dumbledore wrote to Grindelwald. Look at the signature. It's the mark again,” She closes the book sitting on the stop you had once occupied, “It keeps cropping up. In Beedle the Bard, in the graveyard in Godric's Hollow.” “It was there too,” Harry mumbled as you looked at him.

“Where?” You questioned.

“Outside Gregorovitch's Wand Shop,” Harry answered,  “But what does it mean?” “Look, you've got no idea where the next Horcrux is, and neither do I, but this, this means something.”

“How do you make Hermione stop being mad at you?” Ron asked, walking next to you as you walk towards the rook house that resides the Lovegoods.

You give your best friend a side eye, “Well, she never really stops being mad, Ron.”

“Helpful mate,” Ron scoffs as you smiled at him, patting him on the shoulder, he seems to be alright with you slight dig as he flashes you a smile.

“She’ll come around, she always does.”

As Xenophilius Lovegood allows you to come inside, he offers you all to go upstairs. You looked at Harry, who shrugs his shoulders as you give him a long to why Lovegood was taking his time. 

“So how can I help you, Mr. Potter?” He asked after an awkward silence had subsided and everyone took a sip of the horrendous tea.

“Well, actually... It was about something you were wearing around your neck at the wedding. A symbol,” Harry asked, not knowing how to approach the situation.  “You mean this?” He holds the necklace up as Harry nods.

“Yes, that exactly,” Harry looked at him, touching the symbol before making eye contact with the man, “What we've wondered is, what is it?”

“What is it?” Lovegood questions, repeating Harry, you shifted uncomfortable, “Well, it's the sign of the Deathly Hallows, of course.”

“The what?” The four of you chimed in, as Hermione had leaned in for a better look whilst you had seen Ron just being confused with the whole situation - you could feel how awkward Ron felt being there.

“The Deathly Hallows. I assume you're all familiar with "The Tale of the Three Brothers."?” 

“Yes,” You, Hermione and Ron spoke at the same time.

“No.” Harry spoke over the other three as he looked lost, it wasn’t the first time Harry lacked knowledge.”

“I have it in here,” Hermione rummaged through her bag, before pulling her book out. 

Opening it up the page, she took a deep breath, looking at everyone, especially Harry as she started to read the book.

Tagged

@carefulthatsharassment-sir​​ @lanlanlan020202​ @hanniejji​ @dumbssbtch​ @lea-the-foxe​ @stan-joonies​ @littertortilla @purpleshusbandd

[lacklusterswirl]

Mute/Rook - I don’t actually have a title

It’s comfort though, and some friendship bonding (Some light pinning from mute? idk man it’s v platonic)

Rook isn’t used to all the hazing after joining Rainbow. He’s always been able to blend into a group of those his age, but it’s different at Hereford. If it weren’t for his gun skills, he might not have been chosen, so it’s a tough place to be. Mute has gone through it all though, so this is nothing new. He’ll help out where he can, even if he doesn’t quite know how...

.

“All that glitters is not gold.” Rook didn’t even turn around at the sound of the door opening. The light and unsure footsteps could only be one of maybe two people, and Jäger didn’t even know where the roof was.

“Does gold even glitter?” Mute retorted, stopping behind Rook, who’s legs were hanging off the roof. “I’m pretty sure that real gold doesn’t.”

Rook shook his head. “If Doc sent you here, you can leave and tell him that I’m ok.”

“Who would give a shit about you?” the SAS operator smirked, only to hurriedly sit beside Rook as the other slouched more. “I heard what Thatcher said.”

“He doesn’t say the same things about you, Twitch, or Glaz… I didn’t think I was that young.”

Ah… what to do here…

“He… If it helps at all, Mike doesn’t really mean it. It’s just to test you, kinda. He wants to push you to see if or when you’ll push back.”

“You went through the same thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Then he might be testing me, but I feel like Castle is taking what he’s saying literally. During the last training match, I called out that Fuze was above and that Castle had to take down his special barricades so Tachanka could get out, but neither thought I was serious. Then Tachanka got eliminated, and Castle got downed because of it.”

Rook gave him a sharp glance that just dared him to— “Yeah, no. They’ve never done that to me…”

“You know what Smoke and Bandit were talking about during lunch?”

.

“Do you like truth or dare?” Bandit asked. He and Smoke sat on either side of the young man.

Rook felt exhausted, just by their presence. Surprising too, since he liked people. He liked company most of the time.

“Sure.”

“Truth or dare, mate?” Smoke asked.

He had already made the mistake of asking for a dare the first time. “Truth,” he sighed.

“Dignity, intelligence, or your heart, which would you rather give up?”

“Intelligence?” Rook shrugged. The faster he ate, the faster he could leave.

Smoke chuckled. “Let’s rephrase. Out of the two that you have, which would you rather lose?”

.

“I’m tired.” Rook buried his head in his hands. “I’ve never been made fun of so much for my age.”

“So, it’s your first time being the youngest?” Mute stifled a smile.

“Yeah. I don’t know how you did it.”

“Sometimes, being a giant nerd helps, you know?” Mute tried to nudge him. Yeah, so he sucked at this. That generally happened when your best friend from childhood was a physics textbook.

Rook scoffed, but his posture didn’t change. Mark had to come from a different angle. “If anything, I’m a little jealous of how easily you talk to people. It’s like drinking water to you. You just… do it… and you’re not insecure at all. Or… at least you don’t show it.”

“Is the guy who can do calculus in his head wishing he could talk?”

Mute looked at Rook’s face and how the fading rays of light lit up his eyes like an ocean he could only see in vacation photos. Because even when he was about to cry, Rook was just… Stunning. And he wasn’t just saying that because Rook let him shoot at him with a revolver at point blank range the first time they met. Though the face Mark pulled then would’ve said otherwise.

“Yeah,” his voice was scratchy, but Mute couldn’t help it. “Yeah, I am.”

“Thanks, Mark.” Rook flashed him a smile that had so much… emotion… That gave him a warm feeling in his stomach. The curved lips were nicer than the warm sunlight on his face.

“If you want, I’ll talk to Thatcher, though it’s probably for the best if you just out gun Smoke and Bandit during our next practice at the shooting range. Make a bet with them, then blow them out of the water. It’ll bring them down a peg. Worst case, talk to Doc. He’ll listen to you, and give you a chance to take more responsibility.”

Rook smirked. “He would, wouldn’t he?”

They sat until the last of the sunlight disappeared. Then, Rook stood up, offering a hand to Mute. “Thanks for listening. Don’t talk to Thatcher, I’ll deal with that, but I will take your advice on the bet thing.”

“Just buy my next drink,” Mute shot back, nodding his thanks when Rook opened the door for him.

“Nah, I’ll pass on that. That would mean that I have to watch your lightweight ass.” Mute stumbled as Rook nudged him from behind.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Fuck me, yourself, lightweight.”

“Drunkard.”

“Nerd.”

[weirddemiwood]

The Old Bear’s Daughter - Part 9

Masterlist

*****

"How are you keeping?" the man asked as he arrived at their cell. It was an older looking man with greying hair and a face that looked like it had been exposed to a lot of harsh weather on the open sea.

"Great," Gendry replied sarcastically, "Never better."

"It was just a bit of blood," the man said, confusing Juliana.

Gendry shook his head, "I should have known. Every time a highborn asks my name, it's trouble," he added, making Juliana look to the ground.

"Most of you don't really see us as people, do you? Just a million different ways to get what you want," he added.

"I'm not a highborn." the man said.

"She called you Ser. I heard it."

The man sighed and sat down, leaning against their cell door, "A recent state of affairs. I was born in Flea Bottom just like you."

Juliana scooted a bit closer to listen to the man's words as Gendry replied, "Sure, you were. You're my friend. You're here to help."

"I lived below the street of Flour."

"How far below?" Gendry asked, not really believing what the man said. "How close to the Red Keep were you?"

"The shit that poured from the privy pipes flowed down the side of Aegon's Hill along Tanner's Row and right in front of my front door on Gin Alley", they finished together.

Gendry now turned his head to look at the man as he continued, "The Street of Steel, with your armour and your knights? Pfft. You lived in the fancy part of town. And here we are now. Two boys from Flea Bottom and a northern lady of the wall locked in the castle of a southern king."

"Come a long way," Juliana told them.

There was a moment of silence before Gendry asked, "So how did you become a lord?"

"Oh, that's a long story."

"Better not, then, I'm a bit busy."

"Many years ago I helped King Stannis out of a difficult situation. He rewarded me with a lordship. And this."

He held up his right hand so the two of them could see that four of his fingers had been chopped half off.

"That makes you Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight," Juliana acknowledged.

"Aye, but I didn't want to be a lord. I nearly didn't accept."

"Why did you?" Gendry asked.

"I did it for my son. I didn't want him to step over a river of shit every time he stepped through his front door. I wanted him to have a better life."

"And does he?" Juliana asked.

"He's dead," Davos replied.

Juliana and Gendry then fell silent, neither knowing what to say.

"How'd he die?" Gendry then asked as Davos stood up.

"Following me," he said before turning and walking away.

*****

"Before we left the tavern with the Brotherhood, Thoros told me that you are a walg."

"A walg?"

"A Wack?"

As Juliana raised her eyebrows, Gendry groaned, "You know what I mean."

She chuckled, "I'm a warg. It means I can take over the body of an animal."

Gendry looked as if he didn't believe her.

"You remember those torturers in Harrenhall? The rat that bit one of them?"

"That was you?" Gendry asked and as Juliana nodded he asked, "So you can just take over any animal, no matter what?"

"Well, it's easier if I'm familiar with the animal but if I'm in danger or highly emotional it usually works with others too."

Gendry seemed amazed with that and proceeded to ask her different questions about her abilities until he felt like he was an expert on the topic himself.

*****

Juliana had slept while leaning against Gendry but she was quickly awoken as the door of their cell was opened.

"What are you doing?" Gendry asked.

"You're leaving," Davos replied.

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"Yes, but not on you."

He threw a bundle of cloth at them and Juliana realized that it was two cloaks. She handed one to Gendry and swung the other one around her own shoulders.

*****

The three of them were walking on the beach of Dragonstone. Gendry had just put the hood of his cloak down while Juliana still had hers up.

"Aim for that star," Davos told them, pointing at the brightest star at the sky, "Don't stop. There's bread and water. Go slow with it."

They got to a small boat and Davos placed a bag in one side of it, "If you finish it off, no matter how thirsty you get, don't drink seawater."

"I know not to drink seawater," Gendry told him as the man pushed the boat into the ocean for them.

Ignoring his remark, Davos continued, "Row for a full day and night and you'll reach Rook's Rest. You'll want to stop there. Don't. She'll find you."

"Where should we go?" Juliana asked as she got into the boat, spending the first few years of her life on an island, she knew her way around a boat and didn't have difficulties with keeping her balance.

"Keep the coast on your left side until you reach King's Landing."

"The gold cloaks are looking for me," Gendry explained.

"They were looking for me for 20 years. Do they know your face?"

"No."

Davos nodded, "I'd worry more about the Red Woman."

Gendry climbed into the boat, making it shake dangerously as he sat down.

"You ever been in a boat before?" Davos asked as he saw Gendry hold onto the sides of the boat tightly.

"No."

"You know how to swim?"

"No."

Davos sighed, "You're lucky your lover is an islander. Now go on."

"Why are you doing this?" Gendry asked, ignoring his comment while Juliana took the rudders in her hands.

"Because it's right. And because I'm a slow learner."

"When you get to Flea Bottom, have a bottle of brown for me!" he called after them as Juliana moved the boat forward with strong strokes.

"You think we'll ever see him again?" she asked.

"I don't know," Gendry replied as they watched Davos return to the castle.

[shoottomiss]

The Worst Ben 10 episode of all time

You know, everyone always considers Fool’s Gold and The Widening Gyre contenders for being the worst Ben 10 episodes, not just in UAF but overall (i am unsure if anyone considers an OS episode as bad as they do those ones). But you know what actually might be the worst episode from any one of the 5 series? 

Breakpoint, from Omniverse.

A fitting name in itself, it was the final straw for me for Omniverse. Now anyone who knows me knows I... dislike this series, to put it lightly. I saw too many problems with them when they tried to “fix” things, Ben’s character was even worse than before, it had the opposite problem of UAF in that it never felt serious even when it wanted to be, had romance so terrible I’d cringe less if I was watching the first season of Korra, and overall felt like a hot mess. But I can understand why people like the show, and don’t think I’m better than people that do. 

However, y‘all have to admit this was the worst that OV had to offer. At least you could find some fun wondering what they were thinking for Fool’s Gold, or some entertainment in how The Widening Gyre felt as preachy as a typical Captain Planet episode. But here? There’s no fun to be had.

I suppose I should start with the plot. See, there’s criminals going around committing crimes while looking like Ben (wearing the ID masks, you know?), and the plumbers don’t exactly know who is under them. Ben seems to think it’s Fistrick, because the one giving orders is doing curls, so for some reason he decides to go undercover... eeeeven though they already know it’s Fistrick and would merely have to track him down to end this. Grandpa Max is reluctant about this, since it takes self control and doesn’t think Ben is capable (which says a lot about this series’ Ben, but it gets even worse).

So Ben has the Omnitrix lock him into an alien so he can get close to Fistrick, “hangs out” with him and his mooks, and figures out they’re gonna hit Billions Tower. Ben and Rook soon intercept said hit, where Rook shoots off their ID masks, revealing them. So, undercover mission over, as well as the episode, right? I mean, they get away, but Ben knows where their headquarters are and have the proof they need to arrest them and have a squad of plumbers back them up. Even finding the stolen tech ultimately doesn’t require Ben to be undercover, especially since we see he never does find it, nor does he make it his objective, later in the episode. But nope! Ben keeps going with it, causing what was left of the logic of the plot to break into teeny tiny pieces.

But that’s not what makes this episode awful. No, see, when Max talks about self-control, you would assume he talks about keeping up the disguise, right? (which makes no sense when you remember Bullfrag from the incursean arc) But no, they take it into an even stupider direction.

Ben gets too close to the case.

BEN. GETS. TOO CLOSE. TO THE CASE.

...Excuse me for a moment.

Yes, after all the villains he encountered, the tricks he’s known them to pull, and how terrible he knows they can be, this is the time Ben gets too close to the case. More specifically, he gets close to Fistrick in a friendship kinda way. I’m sorry, what?

Why?! It’s not even like Fistrick is possibly redeemable or even likable either. He held innocent Megawatts captive, attacked Rook’s peaceful home planet Revonnah, infected Rook with “bro essence”, is all around your typical “black and white” weapons dealer villain, and worst of all, is a “bro” type of person to the point where he replaces parts of words with Bro (that alone deserves jail time). Why out of all villains is this the one that Ben is tempted to be buddies with?

Worse yet is that this really says volumes about how bad Ben’s character has become, both in universe, and on the writing side of things. He was already insufferable before in this show, either because he could be even douchier than he was in the worst parts of UAF, or just plan idiotic. That he can’t even prevent himself from feeling like becoming Fistrick’s friend though just sends those traits through the roof. Especially since he begins to snap at Rook when Rook points out how he’s changing. Though I guess I’m impressed the writing team set a new standard for how low they can make Ben’s character go. Props for the new record. The new, awful, terrible record.

The humor’s not all that good either. The running gag with Rook and meatball subs gets old very fast. Even if you find it funny, the rest of the episode and it’s broken logic and characters really sucks out any joy you get from it.

In many ways, it’s the exact opposite to what I believe to be the very best episode of Ben 10 overall- The Ultimate Sacrifice from Ultimate Alien. I’ll explain it in more detail another time, but it’s when the Ultimates accidentally become sentient, trap Ben in the Ultimatrix, and try to kill him in hopes that it will set them free. Gwen goes into the Ultimatrix to find him using an astral projection, while Kevin goes to get Azmuth. 

The episode really shows how far Ben’s character has come- he’s open-minded even though it sounds ridiculous that the ultimates have become sentient, thinks of intelligent ideas while fighting the ultimates (like using many transformations to run down the watch’s energy, which will hopefully set him free), and instead of letting Gwen destroy the Ultimates, he volunteers to let himself be sacrificed (even though the ultimates treat him like crap since they think he knowingly used them as slaves). It’s the best that Ben has to offer.

Gwen and Kevin too. Gwen would rather destroy the ultimates than lose her cousin, and Kevin risks his life to get Azmuth to come and fix the watch, admitting that Ben is his best friend. Ben and Gwen even share a tender moment when they think he’s going to die, showing how close their bond has become (platonically, of course). The humor’s good too. There’s some nice gems in here, and none of the jokes ever disrupt the flow of the episode.

The episode makes sure things stay logical too. Ben sacrifices himself because the alternative is either Gwen killing the sentient ultimates, or them possibly remaining trapped. Neither is a good option, and they’re running low on time and any other possible options. Not to mention Kevin is having a hard time getting Azmuth.

But the more I look between these two episodes, the more preposterous it seems that they’re part of the same series. That Ben could go from being a selfless, intelligent hero to a idiotic and selfish one is just too jarring. And I get it, Omniverse is more light hearted and comedic, but regardless of the tone of the show changing, that shouldn’t excuse butchering the main character’s core traits and devolving him.

Breakpoint is everything that ever went wrong with Ben 10, not just in this series, but in the entire Ben 10 franchise, all rolled up into one episode. The decay of Ben’s character, the terrible logic, the weak humor... hell, I could even argue “terrible romance” considering that Ben’s bromantic (kill me, now i’m doing it) one-sided feelings for Fistrick come off as incredibly forced. It’s the lowest point the franchise has ever come to.

[pitchsecretadmirers]

This Love (A Sure Thing)

Sending tons of Valentine’s love to @streetlightsky today!

Summary: When Evelyn first asks him to help her plan her and Blip’s vow renewal Mike is mostly confused, a little flattered, and very suspicious of her motives.

Rating: General Word Count: 1713 Additional Tags: Future Fic, Matchmaker!Evelyn

When Evelyn first asks him to help her plan her and Blip’s vow renewal Mike is mostly confused, a little flattered, and very suspicious of her motives. It’s not like he doesn’t trust Evelyn — in fact, she’s arguably one of his best friends, which is why he assumes the glint in her eyes means trouble for him. Still, there are things you do for your friends, no questions asked, and this is one of those things. It’s actually kind of nice, having something to distract him from the fact that he’s newly retired and doesn’t know what to do with himself. He suspects that’s why Evelyn asked him in the first place, though he assumes that it also doesn’t hurt that he’s willing to throw his name around if it helps her get her way. They get so caught up in the planning that Mike forgets all about his earlier suspicion and doesn’t think much of it when Evelyn cancels on him when they’re supposed to be meeting with the florist.

From Evelyn S.

Mike, I’m so sorry but Mars isn’t feeling very well and Blip is still at the dentist with Gabriel so you’re going to have to go to the appointment without me. I’ve emailed you the pictures we looked at yesterday. Just remember: no chrysanthemums because one of my bridesmaids is allergic.

From Evelyn S.

BTW I asked Ginny to go with you. She’ll meet you there and she’s bringing the fabric swatches for the table clothes and the chair sashes to make sure that the flower arrangements don’t clash with the colour scheme. Call me after.

From Evelyn S.

Thank you, you’re the best!!!

Of course he doesn’t actually see any of Evelyn’s messages until he rounds the corner of the street, phone in hand to let her know he’s almost there, and is met with the sight of Ginny smelling a sunflower bouquet in one of the outside displays.

He feels unsteady on his feet despite the cane currently supporting his weight and shame creeps up his spine at the thought of Ginny seeing him with it. While he’s grateful that he got to walk away from the game on his own terms, without a World Series ring but with his knees and back still in tact — though it had been touch and go there for a minute — he’s not satisfied with who and where he is at this point in his life. And it’s made him distance himself from Ginny with her riot of curls and her whole life ahead of her when he’s already lived one. He hasn’t seen her since he ducked out early of his own retirement party. It’s the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other since those awkward months after their almost kiss and her subsequent injury that neither of them knew how to deal with. And it’s not — he’s never believed in the whole ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ thing, just look how that worked out for him and Rachel, but that thing that his heart does whenever he’s around Ginny? Seeing her now after almost two weeks, his heart is hammering like it’s going to burst out of his chest.

Her face lights up when she sees him and she’s quick to throw her arms around him and hug him tight. She smiles as she pulls back from him. “Be honest, on a scale from Livan’s gold chains to Sonny’s anchovies superstition, how much are you regretting saying yes to Evelyn?”

Mike barks out a laugh. “Do your teammates know that you’re shaming them like this?”

“No, and they’re never going to find out or I’ll convince Evelyn you need to shave your beard for the ceremony,” she says, levelling him with a look.

“You love the beard.”

“That’s still a no, old man.”

—————————————————————————————

Things between Mike and Ginny get a little better after that day. He can’t find it in himself to go back to where they aren’t speaking now that he’s seen her again and after a couple of days of texting, he finds the courage to call her. By some unspoken agreement they don’t talk about his physical therapy or any of the other things they should probably be talking about but the nightly phone calls continue and while on his Ginny-high, Mike remains oblivious to Evelyn’s ulterior motives.

To be fair, they do get a lot of work done: The flowers have been dealt with, the venue is locked down, the dresses have been altered, the boys have been fitted for tuxes, and after calling in a favour, Mike managed to get Wolfgang Puck to agree to do the catering. Which is why Mike doesn’t think much of it when Evelyn cancels when they’re supposed to go see one of the live bands that they’re considering for the party play at a charity event in a hotel downtown.

From Evelyn S.

Have to take neighbour to the hospital. Garden shear accident. Record a vid of their set for me and remember to ask manager about equipment.

She doesn’t tell him that Ginny’s coming to help out so he’s surprised when she rushes in after about an hour, looking a little frazzled and then relieved when she spots him in the crowd.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I hope you didn’t have to wait too long. Traffic was a mess and I was in a meeting all the way across town when Evelyn called and I literally had to drop everything to get here as fast as I could. I was going to text you but my phone ran out of battery — I didn’t miss it, did I?”

“Breathe, rook. It’s okay, they haven’t even started their set yet. I just looked at the program and there will be a couple more speeches before they’re supposed to go on.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I guess while we’re here we might as well look around for a bit right? And I definitely need a beer after the day I’ve had, come on.”

She grabs his hand and pulls him along towards the bar. With his free hand, Mike fishes his phone out of his pocket and types out a message to Evelyn.

To Evelyn S.

You didn’t tell me Ginny was coming.

From Evelyn S.

I didn’t? Must’ve slipped my mind in the hubbub. How’s the band?

To Evelyn S.

Their set doesn’t start for another two hours.

From Evelyn S.

I could’ve sworn they said 7. Their manager will be hearing from me.

To Evelyn S.

Mm. Strange. How’s your neighbour?

To Evelyn S.

She’ll live. Hey, you might as well enjoy yourself while you’re there. Grab a bite to eat, dance with a pretty girl…

Yeah, he’s definitely getting played.

—————————————————————————————

After the florist and the band, there’s the cake testing at a fancy bakery uptown. The pastry chef makes Mike and Ginny feed each other with their eyes closed so that they can really appreciate the ‘explosion of flavours’ and by the end of the afternoon Mike’s about ready to jump out of his skin from all of the soft touches they’ve shared; her lithe hand cupping his cheek trying to feed him without getting pink champagne frosting in his beard, her lips wrapped around the tip of his thumb while he fed her a piece of coconut and lime cake, their thighs pressed together underneath the counter.

On the way back to his car Mike shoots off a text to Evelyn, who’s conveniently been ignoring them all day — present time no exception, and sends another on to Blip in a desperate attempt to keep his wits about him.

To Blip S.

Please for all that is good and holy call off your wife and tell her to stop playing Cupid.

From Blip S.

New phone, who dis?

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There are a handful more ‘emergencies’ that Mike and Ginny get called up to bat for (babysitting the boys together when Evelyn and Blip have dance class, staying up late to make the place cards when the printer supposedly doesn’t deliver) and what’s keeping him up late at night is that despite how this whole thing is so obviously a set up, Ginny hasn’t said a word to him about it. There has been no huffing about Evelyn never minding her own business, no complaints about being forced into doing all of these romantic-adjacent things together, Ginny didn’t even roll her eyes when the sommelier wouldn’t stop calling them Mr. and Mrs. Sanders when they filled in for their friends at the wine tasting. And Mike doesn’t know what to make of it. He knows how he feels about Ginny, time and distance and baseball and relationships haven’t changed that. He knows how Ginny feels about him — at least in theory, though it’s largely based on his trust that Evelyn wouldn’t be pushing them if she wasn’t sure about both of them and a drunk text Ginny sent him a year ago — but he doesn’t know how to propel them forward.

He’s been stewing on that for a couple of days when Evelyn comes over to work on her vows because she needs a quiet place to write. Mike stands in the doorway and listens as she recites her vows aloud and in a flash before his eyes he sees Ginny. It’s always Ginny. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it’s as easy as buying a bacon burger from a pretty girl — one small gesture to spark a flame and the rest is just showing up for each other and putting in the work together every day, and that he knows how to do, it’s what he’s done and will continue to do for Ginny; it’s what she’s been doing for him since they met.

So that’s exactly what he does. On the day of the vow renewal he shows up at Ginny’s place wearing a tie that matches the colour of her dress (thank you, Evelyn), a flower in his hand and hopes for the future alight in his eyes. From the way she looks at him — eyes wide, cheeks flushed, dimples showing — he’s got nothing to worry about.