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thatoneitaliangirl · 3 years

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Oh my gosh could you write a childe x reader thing 🥺🥺 I wanna just have some sweet angst with a happy outcome somehow 😔

I may have gone a bit overboard- At this point, I feel I'm literally incapable of writing anything under 1,000 words. So sorry this took so long, I had to take a break from writing to work out some things with school. A bunch of nonsense and stuff lol. You didn't specify gender, so I wrote the reader as female, only cause that's what I'm used to working with. I apologize if that's not what you wanted. I can always whip up something for ya with your preferred pronouns! But I'm not sure if I'll make it this long . . . I honestly don't know how I even did this, like this is a feat I feel. Anyways, I hope Childe isn't too OOC in this. I'm not the best when it comes to writing angst, so I hope you like it! And just as a little explanation beforehand, I read up that Childe joined the Fatui when he was about 14, became a Harbinger at 18, and is considered a young adult. So in this fic, it's assumed that he and you are at least 20 years old just so the timeline adds up and stuff. Also, despite how long this is, Childe isn't in it as much as you probably wanted- I have a tendency to write more about the reader than the characters. It's something I'm trying to break, but I was just so proud of this. I hope you like it! Anyways, happy reading!!! ^^

Childe x Reader Angst

Plot- Reader and Childe have been together for years when Reader finds out that Childe killed her sister when she was young.

Word count- 8,864 (I'm so sorry)

Warnings- Mentions of death, sadness, bad writing, possible suicide at the end(But just mentioned as a fear), swearing, and cringe 'funny' moments cause why not.

The wind blows through your hair as you sit atop a ledge overlooking Liyue Harbor. Today is your younger sister's birthday, and for the past six years, it's been nothing but a reminder of your failure. You were supposed to take care of her. After your parents passed away, you were all she had left, and she, you. But you were just a kid yourself, hardly capable of raising a child.

You bite your lip and look over at all the families walking about, having fun. It brings a smile to your face knowing at least some people can be happy on this day. She wouldn't have wanted doom and gloom to be her only remembrance. The sun in the sky is warm, beaming down on your skin. You've fought many battles for the Adventurers Guild during your time living in town, and are proud to say you've survived. Even escaped a few sparring matches with Childe relatively unscathed.

You win every time, but it's no surprise given he lets you win. That's one of the many things you love about him. He tries to put you first in most situations as much as he can with his job. And it's the little things like letting you win a fake fight that makes you feel like you're floating.

Your relationship is practically plastered on every notice board in town with how affectionate you are to each other. Not a soul in Liyue can look at you and not know you are the Harbinger's lover. But you're okay with that.

Taking in a calm breath, you hop down and glide your way to the docks below.

"Good morning, _____! Nice weather, isn't it?" You smile at the young girl as she approaches you. You've known her for a while now, and have come to consider yourself friends. She seems a bit nervous though.

"It certainly is. Are you okay, Chen?" Her smile drops and she grips onto her arms.

"Can I ask a favor of you? It's rude of me, but I'm desperate!"

"It's fine, what's the matter?" The young girl sighs.

"My brother borrowed a loan from Northland Bank last month and the payments were due two days ago. He told me he was going to pay it back . . . He hasn't been home since. I just thought that . . ."

"You want me to ask Tar?" Her eyes snap up to yours.

"Will you? Please? I'm just so worried about him! I told him not to take that loan, but he never listens to me." You put your hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

"It's okay. It's no problem at all! I was just headed there anyway. I'll see about your brother for you." Young Chen sighs in relief and reaches in her pocket.

"Here, I want you to take this as payment." You shake your head and push her hand away.

"No, I could never!"

"I insist! My mother gave this to me when I was a kid," She opens your hand and places a small coin in before closing your hand around it.

"She told me travelers would give these coins to people who did favors for them and that they grant wishes! Though I'm sure that's just a children's story; I was never able to get it to work." You give the coin a look, hesitant, before slipping it into your pocket.

"Alright, I'll accept. Thank you!" You wave goodbye to Chen and head towards the bank. Childe spends most of his days there, what he does, you have no idea. It's a mystery. The most you get out of him is 'business' which, yeah, obviously you do business. But it's understandable. The Fatui are a questionable lot, and not many people in Liyue trust them.

The Qixing keep a close eye on them as well, though you're sure even they hardly know what goes down under the 'bank' façade. Sometimes Childe comes home with cuts and bruises, claiming they're from training with his comrades, and while you don't buy that one bit, you play along. No need to add to his stress. If he thought you needed to know, he would tell you. No doubt about it.

Walking up the many flights of stairs, you nod to Vlad who lets you in.

Lucky for you, the first face your eyes land on is the exact one you came looking for.

"Tar!" He immediately looks over in your direction, smiles, and dismisses the Fatui agent he was talking to.

"Well, if it isn't the most beautiful woman in all Teyvat. Come to steal my heart?" He pulls you into a hug and kisses your cheek.

"No need, I already have it," You pull away, giving him a smile.

"I actually came here to see you."

"I'd hope so! Who else would you want to see?" Rolling your eyes, you grab him by his hand and lead him to his office.

"I have a favor to ask of you," The joking atmosphere surrounding you turns heavy as you hold his hands in yours.

"As you know, today is . . . Very important to me. I was wondering if you could get off early tonight? If not, it's okay though. I don't want to trouble you or anything." Childe chuckles and pats your head.

"I know what today is. I already requested an early leave this morning, but they haven't gotten back to me yet. If we're that backed up, I'm not sure I'll be able to," Your face falls a bit, but you smile. He made the effort to try and get off early without you even asking.

He places his hand onto your face and rubs his thumb over your cheek.

"But I promise to make it up to you. If I don't get back too late, we can go up to Mt. Tianheng and watch the lights at night. I know you like to do that when you're upset." The kind smile on his face is only magnified by the gentle look in his eyes. He's always been soft with you, even before you got together.

It was always an odd sight for people to see the two of you interact before you were a couple. He always regards people with the same jokester attitude, especially those he has to keep an eye on. But when he's with you, he may joke around, but is always much more concerned for your wellbeing.

"Thank you, Tar. I really appreciate it." He smirks and laughs.

"You appreciate it, huh? How much?" You roll your eyes again and give him a kiss on the lips. Childe smiles into it and tries to make it deeper, but you pull away with his lips chasing after you.

"Easy there, tiger. Save it for later, huh?"

"So, there's a later?" You lightly smack his chest and pull away from him as he laughs.

"Get back to work, Tar." You turn to leave but stop in the doorway.

"Oh, before I forget, I ran into Chen earlier," The look in Childe's eyes shifts slightly, but you barely notice.

"She mentioned that her brother stopped by here about two days ago, and was wondering if you knew where he went after? He hasn't been home since and she's very worried."

He ponders for a moment before his eyes light up in realization.

"Now that you mention it, he did say he was headed towards Lingju Pass. Don't know what for though." He shrugs.

"Okay, thank you! I'll be sure to pass it on." You exchange words of love before you leave.

After speaking with Chen, you decided to head towards the countryside. Your conversation with her went about as well as you expected. She seemed distressed and unsure of the information you gave her, but any criticisms were held as she thanked you and left. You hope that she'll be okay and that her brother comes back. Archons know, you understand what it's like to lose a sibling.

You take in a deep breath.

The air in Liyue is unlike any other. Once you leave the city and all the warm bodies, it's nothing but gentle breezes and the smell of earth. And the occasional Hilichurl, but you can easily take out a few to preserve the peace.

Walking along a random path in the sand, you reflect.

When you and your sister were young, you would often take walks like these while your parents were arguing. Despite only being a few years older than her, you actively chose to take on a more nurturing role. But after your parents died, you realized just how hard it was to provide for the two of you.

You knew how to use a bow to hunt, but not well, and even though you had your mother's catalyst, you didn't have a vision. Sometimes just showing it off and pretending you had a vision was enough to scare off petty thieves and weak Hilichurls, but it was only a matter of time before that wouldn't be enough.

Unfortunately, that time came all too soon.

The two of you had found an abandoned campsite and you decided to rest for the night. Your sister and you were headed to Mondstadt in search of a distant relative who you believed could help you. But during the night, your sister got thirsty and you were all out of water in your canteen. So you heading out to find a lake close by to fetch some, only to return to see a dark figure escaping into the night and your sister, laying in the tent, unmoving.

You were only a few hours walk to the city.

Sometimes you wonder if you had kept going that night, maybe whoever it was would have never even crossed your path. Your cries for help were heard by knights close by and they gathered your sister. Everyone in the city was welcoming and understanding, and the church gave her a wonderful service.

But nothing could mend the hole in your heart. Thankfully, the family member was able to take you in and trained you to become a knight. But that's not what you wanted. You wanted to find the person who killed your sister. And after completing your training, you left for Liyue and gained your Cryo vision along the way.

You summon your catalyst and flip through the pages. It's strange how magic works and how everything interacts with your vision. Before you, this weapon served your pyro vision-wielding mother. After you gained your vision, all the spells changed to fit the cold rather than the heat. You sigh and close the book. Sifting through it is just going to make you more sentimental. The sky above begins to turn shades of orange and pink as the sun goes down, so you decide to head home.

"I know you did something!" A loud voice yells, not too far from you.

"Chen?" You whisper to yourself and make your way around to see her at the edge of town, yelling at a Fatui agent.

"Calm down, miss Chen. We don't know what you are referring to." She balls her hands into fists, her face twisted in anger.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about! Lingju Pass? He hasn't set foot there since our father died. How dare you make up such lies!" You decide to make your way over to try and calm her down. She's obviously upset, and you know that Fatui agents aren't well versed in the ways of 'feelings.' In fact, most of the ones you've met have all been quite stoic and unconcerned.

"Are you calling the Fatui liars, miss Chen?" You stop, Childe stepping out in front of the other agent.

What is Childe doing out here?

"You Fatui lie about everything! Everyone in Liyue despises your presence here, and this just proves to me how low you people actually are. What did you do to my brother?!" She reaches up to hit Childe, and you run up to her and grab her by her arms. You know she can't hurt him, but if she tries she could get into some serious trouble.

"Chen, listen to me, you have to calm down." She looks up at you with tears streaming down her face but shakes off your grip.

"No! I refuse! He knows something about my brother, I know he does!" She looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Please, _____, tell him. Tell him to tell me where my brother is!" Chen sobs. Tears start to form in your eyes.

"Chen, I'm sorry, but Tartaglia doesn't know," You look up at Childe and are taken aback by the look in his eyes. His eyes are dead, angry, violent as he stares at Chen. He waves his hand, and two Fatui agents come from behind and drag Chen away.

"Let go of me!" She struggles as they hold her arms and pull her through the dirt path. Chen glairs at Childe, digging her feet into the ground to slow them down.

"You're a monster, Harbinger! A monster!" You continue to stare after her as she's dragged away. What just happened? You've known Chen and her brother since you moved here. What could have happened to make this poor girl act like this? You jump when Childe places his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He wipes the tears from your cheeks and smiles his normal, dashing smile. Nothing like the look he was giving Chen just a moment ago.

"Sometimes those awful rumors spreading about the Fatui make people act irrationally." You look him in the eyes as he holds your face. His eyes are soft and caring now, just how he always looks at you.

"Do you know what happened to her brother?" You ask softly. His eyes darken a bit, but his smile never faults.

"_____, my love, are you questioning me now too? Come on, you know none of that stuff is true, right? I work at a bank, not much else to it." He answers, his voice joking, but there's this undertone you can't quite place and have never heard before. You force a smile and hug him close.

"Your right, I'm sorry for asking. I'm just so concerned for Chen and her brother. Do you know where they're taking her?" He hugs you back, tight, and kisses your forehead.

"I think you should just leave it be for now. Go home and get some rest. I should be getting off work soon, and we can do what I promised. How's that sound?"

"Good." You lean up and give him a kiss. His voice drops low as he whispers in your ear.

"I love you, _____. Don't ever forget that."

And he leaves before you can reply. A chill goes down your spine as you watch him leave, and it's not from your vision. You've never seen Childe like that before, even when he interacts with the Traveler. It made you freeze in place, made your blood run cold, and had your heart beating faster with fear all at the same time. That was Harbinger Childe, not your Tartaglia. You rub your hands along your upper arms to calm yourself. You never want to experience that again.

Taking a deep breath, you reach into your pocket to grab your handkerchief, but pull out the coin Chen had given you instead. All it does is remind you that once again you failed to protect someone you cared about. Poor Chen is scared and afraid, and you're positive that Childe's reaction did not help her any.

But as you hold up the coin, you notice a faint glow emanating from around the outer edge which turns the intricate patterns into Liyuian Characters.

'Let the truth be revealed.'

What does this mean? You remember Chen telling you the story of the coin, but it was just that. You've never heard of any coins gifted by travelers before, and it definitely wasn't a common folk tale.

You shove it back into your pocket and rush home.

The sun is almost fully down, and the stars begin to light your way as you walk hastily down the path. Once your house is in sight, you pick up the pace and run inside.

The glow from the coin is brighter now, illuminating your darkening house. How does one even make a wish on a coin?

"I want to see the truth, but I don't know how," The glow of the coin shifts and changes colors in your hands, giving off an almost mystical wave of magic you've never felt before. Whoever made this coin had to have been powerful. You take a deep breath and look at the coin with determination.

"Show me the truth!" The glow envelopes you and when you open your eyes, you're shocked at what lays before you. The dark figure that haunts your dreams at night looms over your dead sister, red-stained blade in hand and a mask over his face.

You step closer, the classic mask of the fatui on the hooded mans' face making his eyes glow white in the darkness. His stature is much smaller than yours, and his outline seems to be that of a boy. At the time it would have been easy for you to confuse him with a man, being he would have been taller than you. But now that you're an adult, you can clearly see his youth. He smirks and laughs down at your little sister's body while whipping the knife on his sleeve.

"You should never have crossed the Fatui." Your heart drops as the young boy removes his mask revealing ocean blue eyes. The eyes of your lover that you adore on the face of the person that you've despised for years. A woman appears next to him, the same woman you've seen him speak to on many occasions but have never spoken to yourself.

"Good work, Tartaglia. You've proven yourself useful to the Tsaritsa after all. But your job here is not done," Childe looks up at the taller woman, his face determined.

"The other daughter has left to fetch water. Unfortunately, there are too many knights around on patrol to take her. Dispose of the body, and return at once." Childe bows to the woman and she smiles wickedly.

"Yes, Signora. Anything for the Tsaritsa." She leaves, and Childe begins to wrap up the young girl's body in a blanket. He stops suddenly, lifting his head up as young _____ approaches from over the hill. Childe smirks, fixing his mask and hood back on properly.

"Until next time, _____." He says and begins to run.

You gasp as the light invades your sight again and you're returned to the present. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and your breathing begins to pick up. The realization is overwhelming, and the shock is preventing you from crying.

Tartaglia was the one this whole time? It can't be, it just can't! You love him, and he loves you, he says so all the time. Has he lied to you this whole time? Has he just been keeping you close to screw with you before breaking your heart and killing you? That coin has to be lying. There's no way your Tar would ever do something like that, especially to you! He tells you everything. There are no secrets between the two of you.

Right?

The clock on the wall says that it's seven-o-clock, usually when Childe gets off of work. You don't want to be here; you can't be here. How can you face him after seeing that, even if it was a lie? You quickly run up to your shared bedroom and grab your adventuring bag, filling it with few essentials.

Where will you even go? There's nowhere in Liyue where Childe can't find you. Even across Teyvat, the Fatui have eyes and ears. You just need some time to reflect, get your barrings, and confront him. If you'll confront him. This has to be some kind of joke, or lie placed by some unknown power to question your love for him. There's no way he could have-

"What are you doing, _____?" You gasp, started by Childe suddenly behind you, blocking the exit to your room.

"Tar, you scared me!" You say shakily, holding your bag close to your chest. He smiles his usual caring smile at you, but all you can see is the smirk he held while staring down at your little sister.

"Sorry, my love. I got off of work early like I said I would. Is that why you have your bag?" His ocean blue eyes dart down to your bag and back up to you again. You subconsciously grip the bag tighter, Childe noticing.

"N-No. I accepted a commission last minute." The lie slips out like acid on your tongue.

You've never lied to him before, and it feels wrong. But you have to get out of here. Every alarm bell in your body is screaming at you to run as fast as you can away from the man you love.

His brow furrows a bit with concern and he takes a step closer to you, but you take one back.

"This isn't about what happened today, is it?" He sighs and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, it's just I don't like it when people falsely accuse me of things. I kinda slipped into Harbinger mode for a sec there." He laughs, again trying to come closer to you, you step back.

"Are they false though?" The question falls from your lips before you realize it, and Childe's eyes widen in surprise.

"_____, you can't be serious? You know I would never lie to you-"

"How do I know that, Childe?" You've never called him Childe, and it shows from the shock on his face when you do.

"What are you going on about? I could never-"

"Get away from me!" You yell at the Harbinger, tears finally falling from your eyes. There's no way you could be near him like this, knowing that he could have . . .

"Why? I love you, I won't hurt you." You try to steady your breathing as he slowly inches closer, treating you as of your a wild animal he wants to tame.

"You don't love me." You shake your head, gripping your backpack with white knuckles.

"What?" The question comes out as a whisper from the man's mouth in disbelief, hoping he didn't hear you properly.

"You don't love me!" You say one again, louder, confirming what he has hoped wasn't true.

"_____," Childe tries to come closer, but you shove past him and run to the front door. Before you can grab the handle, Childe grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around.

"Please, _____," His eyes are glassy with unshed tears as he gazes into your own.

"Tell me what I did to make you think this way?" You sob, hands pushing on his chest to break free but failing. You can barely breathe as the sobs rack through your body.

"You-" Trying to get the words out only makes you cry harder as the realization hits you. All the rumors are true. The Fatui are evil, conniving, and uncaring. They kill, pillage, experiment, torture, and don't care about who they have to step on to get their way. And your boyfriend, the love of your life, the man you wanted to marry and start a family of your own with, is one of them.

"You killed my little sister!" Your hands ball into fists and punch his chest as hard as you can, but in your state, you have barely any power.

"My baby sister is dead because of you! How could you?" You managed to get out through your tears, finally breaking down in the arms of the man you've despised for years.

Childe stares at you, unbelieving. He pulls you into a tight hug, crying on your shoulder, continuously apologizing. Never in your life have you seen Childe cry. Even when talking about how much he misses his family or his country, the farthest he gets is a sentimental smile and longing. Never have you thought you'd see him cry either. It's almost enough to make you forget that he's practically admitted to the murder.

He killed your only sister. How do you know he's sincere with his tears as he holds you close and begs you not to go? You've seen him lie before, never to you, but if he kept this secret for so long, what else has he been hiding? But none of that matters right now. The man you've been searching for years for, who you wanted to kill with your own bare hands, is the same person holding you so tenderly now.

How could you forget the countless nights you've woken up from nightmares of that boy coming to kill you and finish what he stared, only for Tartaglia to wake you up and hold you close, promising that he'd protect you? Every year when you mourn your sister and confide in him about how you were going to find that monster no matter what it took, did he fear you'd ever find out and kill him?

Is that why he kept you close for so long, to make sure you'd be too weak for him with love to ever even try? How can you love someone who killed your sister? It's easy to just assume you'd hate him, but for some odd reason, a little voice in the back of your mind is telling you to trust him and love him like you always had.

Another voice is telling you to end his life with no mercy and finally bring your sister to the peace she deserves.

Gathering up your strength, you manage to push him off of you.

"_____, no," He's in a state you've never seen before, face wet with tears, nose running, eyes puffy. But, he doesn't try to pull you back in.

You swiftly grab your bag and leave the house and Childe behind.

-------------

"_____," Your cousin John calls your name, pinching the bridge of his nose. He watches as you continuously use your vision to destroy training dummies.

"You continue this and the knights aren't going to have anything left to train with." You stop temporarily to glare at him.

"I'm training."

"So it seems." He watches as you continue your 'training.'

"You know, this doesn't seem healthy. I'm no doctor or anything, but, maybe you should, like, not?" You sigh irritated and cross your arms.

"Not what, John?" He gestures to the broken wood pieces scattered around the courtyard. You roll your eyes.

"I'm doing no worse than the average rookie knight!" John nods, leaning up against the wall.

"Yeah, yeah, except no. Why? Thank you for asking, cause your not a rookie and you're upset, at what? I don't know because you refuse to tell me. All I know is that my cousin is back after being gone for three years and the-," John looks around before stepping closer and lowering his voice.

"The Fatui in town have been eying us up everywhere we go. What the hell happened while you were in Liyue?" You bite your lip and message your wrists. The tips of your fingers have begun to turn purple from the cold, but you hardly seem affected. John pats you on the back and leads you inside the knight's headquarters.

"Look, I know we were never very close, and when you lived with us, we barely spoke, but I'm here now. We're not kids anymore, _____." The two of you sit down in the library. The three years you lived with your uncle and cousin were your worst. They treated you nice, but you were grieving and took it out on them and many training dummies. It seems you've done the same again.

"I'm sorry, it's just . . ." What happened with Childe months ago is still fresh on your mind. You haven't seen him since you left that night, and you aren't sure if you want to. You're conflicted. You thought coming back to Mondstadt would help you clear your mind and help you decide what to do, but you can't, and it's frustrating.

Despite how hard you've tried . . . You still love Tartaglia with all of your heart. But you can't forget what he did. You could never forgive him either. You've held hatred for this man for six years now, and every waking moment has been used to devise a plan to find him and kill him. But you can't kill him; not when you still hold these feelings.

If this was his goal, then he succeeded. You know he knows you're in Mondstadt. As John said, the Fatui have had their eyes on you since you showed up. You wouldn't be surprised if they all have you listed as a threat. After all, being one of their high-ranking officer's vengeful lover with intent and reason to kill would put anyone on a list.

But, with that said, he hasn't tried to contact you. No letters, no passing of words, hell, no carrier pigeons. He's extra enough to do that. And this has caused you to feel even more upset. Cause you still love the man, and there's some hope still there that he meant what he said and he does love you and the fact he hasn't done anything is killing you.

"_____, you good?" You snap out of your daze and nod.

"Yeah, I was just thinking."

"You seem to be doing a lot of that lately. Please, what's going on with you?" You decide it's best to tell your cousin the truth.

You explain to him the situation. How you fell in love, what life was like for you the three years you were gone, the coin, and finding out the killer's identity. John looks at you in shock.

"Wow, that's a lot. And this is why you came back?"

"Yeah, I know. I should have come back sooner to at least visit, but," John cuts you off and waves his hands.

"No, you're fine. I mean, it would have been nice to see you, but that's irrelevant right now. You found out your boyfriend, a Fatui Harbinger, was the one that killed your sister, and you're here? Doing what? Destroying Favonius property?" You agree hesitantly.

"I mean, when you put it like that, it sounds odd."

"No, _____, odd is an understatement. Why are you here? You should be getting answers, slapping people, storming Snezhnaya! Actually, don't do that last one, that could get us in a lot of trouble."

"True," You agree.

"Honestly, I don't know what to do. Do I confront him? I mean, if he did kill her, which I'm about 90% sure at this point that he did, do I get revenge? I've wanted to for years, but I know that I could never kill him." John takes your hand in his and speaks with sincerity.

"You love him, I get that, but you can't let that get in the way of things."

"No, I mean, I literally couldn't kill him. He's a beast in battle, and could probably end me without even blinking. I've seen him take on multiple ruin guards in seconds, like, he's on a whole nother level." You sigh and put your head in your hands.

"But even despite that, I do still love him. At this point, I feel the best thing to do is to just move on. Go my own way and let him go his."

"And what about your sister, huh? Just gonna forget about her?" You look at him questioningly.

"Look, you need to at least get closure. Obviously, he doesn't want you dead, because you would have been so by now. I can't even tell you how many times the Fatui could have nabbed you, gagged you, and sacked you since you've been back."

"Gee, thanks John, that really makes me feel better about the situation." He rolls his eyes.

"Talk to the man, _____. There will always be a home here waiting for you to come back to." Maybe your cousin is right? If Childe did want you dead, you know damn well he has the power to have made it happen. But how would you even react when you see him? The only way to find out is to get it over with.

With newfound enthusiasm, you jump up from your position and slam your hands on the table.

"Alright, I'm gonna go! I'm gonna talk with Tartaglia and I'm gonna punch him at least once!"

"That's the spirit!" A series of loud shooshes sound around the library and you slowly sit back down.

"Sorry!"

You and your cousin John devise a plan over the next few days. You're still unsure about this whole thing, but with encouragement from John, you gain the confidence you need to push through.

In the end, you decide the best thing to do is to sneak out of Mondstadt without any Fatui seeing you. It's still dangerous to speak with him, and the two of you decide the safest thing is to get him unprepared and off guard. If he's not expecting you, he has no time to plan. Not that he needs a plan to kill you, he could just do it. But still-

As the sun seeps down past the hills and flatlands of Mondstadt, John and you make your way out of headquarters and down to the main part of town.

"You know what sounds so amazing right now? A tall mug of cider from Angel's Share!" John exclaims and grabs your arm. The two of you practically run towards the tavern, gaining looks from the other citizens.

"Cool it, John," You whisper yell to him as you head inside.

"You wanna actually look suspicious?" He laughs, sitting down at a table in the back.

"Sorry if I'm not good at being convincing. Dad always said acting would be my downfall."

"When would you ever have to act to be a knight?" He shrugs his shoulders.

"Right now?" Okay, he has a point. Merely minutes after you sit down, two Fatui agents walk in after, taking a table far enough away, but close enough to keep you in their sights.

"Don't worry, _____," Your cousin says, noticing your worried expression.

We'll get you out of here."

John waves his hand and gains the attention of Master Diluc as he's walking around the tavern.

"We'd like two Valberry Whiskey's please!" Your cousin asks loudly and winks. Diluc rolls his eyes and heads towards the back of the tavern, getting the 'drinks.'

It was a miracle and a half that John was able to convince Master Diluc to help you. But John said he owed him a favor. For what, you have no idea. Not even a second later, a young bard runs over to your table and slams his hands down.

"What did you just order?"

"Uh," You look to your cousin for guidance. The drink was simply a code, not an actual order.

"Valberry Whiskey?" The young bard looks at you in amazement. He's clearly drunk, but the sheer excitement in his eyes seems to sober him up enough to eagerly rush to the bar counter.

"A new drink! And Diluc didn't tell me?!" His shouts of joy gain the attention of the entire bar.

"A new drink?!"

"One not on the menu?"

"Master Diluc!"

Your cousin and you share a look as the crowd goes wild, rushing towards the front bar and to the back looking for Diluc to inquire about this new drink. The few Fatui agents that had followed you in stand up from their seat to get a better view of you and John. John grabs your arm and pulls you into the crowd, the Fatui agents desperately searching for your whereabouts.

"This way, _____." He pulls you farther and farther away from the Fatui till you feel another hand grab you and pull you out of the back entrance to the tavern.

"Hey, watch your hands, buddy!"

"Would you rather still be in there then, _____?" You smile nervously up at Diluc, who's handing you a bag and cloak.

"Things didn't exactly go as planned, huh?" The redhead smirks and crosses his arms.

"I knew that bard would be in here tonight. Drunk off his ass, he wouldn't be able to resist the call of a new drink item." You laugh, pulling the hood over your head.

"Thank you, Diluc." He gives you a rare smile and nods. You begin to walk off but stop, looking back at the tavern owner.

"Hey Diluc, what was the favor for?" Diluc sighs and pinches between his eyes.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

__________________

The journey back to Liyue is a tiring one. It seems a lot closer than it actually is on the map, but heading to the main harbor is always a task. Thankfully, you're able to make your rations last the whole trip, and as you enter the harbor in the wee hours of the night, you smile at the familiar buildings. You may have only been gone for a few months, but this was your home for the last three years.

Your home with Tartaglia . . . You pull your hood farther down your head and try to remain in the shadows. Despite the time of night, the area is still bustling with people. Merchants making deals, ships delivering goods, the whole nine yards.

You flatten yourself against a wall as a few Fatui agents walk past. The place is absolutely crawling with Fatui, even more so than usual. Could it have something to do with you? You doubt it. Harbinger or not, Tartaglia could get in serious trouble for using Fatui resources in such a way.

You carefully slide through cracks and crevises, branches and bushes, trying to stay out of any Fatui sights. Eventually, you find yourself on the outskirts of the city, not far from your shared home. It surprisingly takes a lot from you to not run straight for it. You miss your house. You miss your bed. You miss Tartaglia.

But now is not the time to get sentimental!

You still need to confront him about what he did. And depending on his answer, one of you may not make it through the night. You keep yourself stealthy as you enter the house from the back. He's not home, which is good. But the place is in disarray. Furniture turned upside down, plates smashed against walls, everything caked in dust. It's hard to believe he's been living here if he even has been.

If that's the case, you may have to go looking for him. You look around the house at the disaster. He may have been trying to look for something; maybe a clue to what you had planned or something to use against you.

With that in mind, you run up the stairs to the master bedroom and open the closet. You fear the worst but are surprised to find your sister's belongings still in place.

Surely he would have found them in here.

The bedroom isn't as bad as the bottom floor, though still a mess. The bed is unmade, with a small pile of your clothes on your side of the bed, and his clothes on the floor. All of your things, besides the clothes, are still neatly in their places. Pictures of you and him together that were once on the walls are now on his nightstand, face up and smudged with fingerprints.

"What the hell happened here?" The sound of the front door opening startles you. Could that be Childe? There's no way he's living like this!

Footsteps move across the floor, into the kitchen, into the living room, and slowly up the stairs. Whoever it is, your about to face them.

The door opens slowly, almost torturously so. Soon, the sunken and sullen face of your lover is in your view, and even faster, your on the floor with a knife made of hydro to your throat. Your hood continues to obscure your identity as Childe pins you down.

"Bold of you to break into the home of a Fatui Harbinger! What did you expect?" With the pressure from the knife digging deeper and deeper into your skin, you freeze the hand wrapped around his holding the knife, and kick your leg out. Childe falls over, dropping his weapon which shatters on impact. Before you can get your bearings, he's lunging at you again. He grabs you from behind and holds you in a chokehold.

"Your fast, but you'll never be fast enough!" You gasp for air, holding onto his arm as it's wrapped around your neck. He's trying to kill you, you know he is. All the times you've sparred with him, you knew he was holding back, but he's definitely not this time. Even so, his hold on you is weak. Weak for him, at least.

You rear your elbow into his stomach as hard as you can knocking him back and you summon your catalyst. As he said, he's faster than you, but before he can get back, you place a wall of ice between him and yourself. It's not enough to hold him back for long, but enough to catch your breath. He laughs as he can hear you choking, attempting to regain your oxygen.

"You think this little wall will stop me?" He attacks the wall with his fist, making a section crumble. Your breathing is fast, but you can't seem to gain enough breath to speak. As he crumbles your wall piece by piece, you pull back your hood and lean on the bedroom wall behind you. Finally, he lands the finishing blow and the ice dissipates in a gust of cryo magic. The crazed look of bloodlust vanishes from his face the instant he sees you, hand on your throat, and your breath heavy.

"___-," He can hardly finish his whisper as he lets out a shaky breath. With the tense atmosphere suddenly calm, you're able to regain your breath and look up at the man. His skin a pale and his eyes are dull. He has large dark circles under his eyes and he looks a bit thinner than normal.

"_____," He manages to get out, still shocked you're actually here.

"Are you okay?" You shake your head.

"You haven't seen me in months and that's the first thing you say to me?" He rubs the back of his neck and looks down, ashamed.

"I didn't know it was you. I'm sorry if I hurt you." You can hardly believe what you're seeing. He seems broken, utterly defeated. If he hadn't fought you just now, you'd assume he'd fall over with the breeze.

Looking at him now, it's hard to believe he's the same man that killed your sister.

"We need to talk." He nods, refusing to meet your eyes.

"You need to tell me the truth, Tar," He takes in a shuddering breath at your words.

"All these years, I've been beside you. I've stood up for you, I've loved you. I told you all my darkest secrets and nightmares. Not once did I ever lie to you."

Tears come to his eyes just as they do yours. He bites his lip to prevent the tears from falling. You step closer to him, dropping your cloak, and put your hands up to his face. He flinches away from you but relaxes when your palms cup his cheeks and he finally looks you in the eyes.

"Over the past few months, I've thought long and hard about what I wanted to say to you. And no matter what scenario I came up with, I could never tell if I was doing the right thing. But, even though I carry some semblance of anger, I know that what I feel for you is real. And with that, I still hold hope that you feel the same and it wasn't all just a lie."

He grabs your hands, the tears now falling one by one down his pale cheeks.

"I swear to all the Archons that I love you! I never lied about that!" You hesitate for a moment, blinking away your own tears.

"And though I don't want to, I believe you," You rub your thumbs across his face, clearing some of the tears.

"But I need you to tell me everything." Tartaglia closes his eyes. He never dreamed in a million years he'd have to tell you this story. He'd hoped that you'd live in blissful ignorance for the rest of your life with him. But the gods had another plan for him and you, and he prays that at least one of them will let him keep you. Even if that's a selfish request.

"I joined the Fatui when I was young. I was constantly trying to prove myself to Signora and the Tsaritsa that I was willing to do anything they asked me. I still am," He looks at you with regretful and sorrowful eyes as he recalls the past.

"Your parents had fled Snezhnaya when you were born, because of a debt they racked up with the Fatui. When they were found in Fontaine, it was revealed that they were working for a group of rebels intent on infiltrating Snezhnaya. It was my job to take you and your sister to use as leverage on your parents. But, your sister fought back," You release his face and look away, finding it harder to keep eye contact with him.

"I wasn't as skilled as I am now, and I panicked. But La Signora said I did a good job. I didn't know that your parents had already been killed by the rebels, and neither did the Fatui. Not until after we had left you. At that point, there was no reason to continue after you. But you were never forgotten about. And when you came to Liyue, I was instructed to keep an eye on you," Childe lifts his arms up and places his hands on your shoulders.

"But I never expected to fall in love with you." You look into his ocean blue eyes and are overcome by the warmth they hold for you.

"The day I met you, I could feel it, and I tried so hard to forget about it, but you were just so . . . Amazing, and beautiful, and kind. I never expected that from you. You never once judged me or ridiculed me, even though you knew who I was. I thanked the Archons every day that you came into my life, and I prayed that you'd never find out what I'd done."

A sob breaks through as he wipes the tears running down his face. All the years you harbored hatred for this man, you never once thought about what he could have been going through. It's true that this doesn't excuse his actions, but to know that he truly regrets what he did brings you some kind of closure. In the end, revenge would have never made you feel better. Your sister wouldn't have wanted that.

You love Tartaglia with all your heart, and in this world, it's better to forgive than to let it eat away at you any longer.

"Tartaglia," His name comes out as a whisper with your breath, but he hears you loud and clear. The fear of rejection in his eyes tells you everything you need to know as you carefully speak to him.

"I forgive you." He cries, pulling you to his chest and you hug him back. Unfortunately for him, you weren't finished.

"But, I need some time to think about this. I love you; I never stopped loving you, and I always will," You pull back and smile at him before gently kissing his chapped lips.

"I'm going back to Mondstadt, but I'll be back. You just need to give me some time." He smiles as best he can and nods enthusiastically.

"I'd give you all the time in the world if I could." He moves to kiss you again, but you put a finger up to his lips to stop him.

"Save it for later, Tar." He laughs, looking back up at you with bright eyes.

"So, there's a later?"

(A little something extra. It doesn't quite fit to be an ending, but more like an epilogue just tying things together I guess lol.)

___________________

You sigh as you sling your bag over your shoulder. It's been a good few months back in Mondstadt after your reconciliation with Childe, and you've decided it's time to go home. You've kept in regular contact with him since you've been here, writing letters to each other like new lovers. You found the whole thing quite cute, despite the circumstances. He's been regarding you with caution, taking things one step at a time, and never pushing you past any limits you set. You're grateful for that.

"You sure you wanna go back? You can always stay a bit longer, just to give yourself a bit more time to think it over." John says, arms crossed and head down. You two have grown closer over your time spent here. It's a shame to think you were so caught up in your misery to be blind to the best friend you could have had. And it's tough to say goodbye, now that you've grown attached.

"I'm sure. You don't have to miss me too much, ya know? I'll be back to visit, and I'll write every week!" John huffs.

"You better, or I'm coming over there and kicking that Fatui's ass for keeping you away! I don't care how many ruin guards he can take on!" You laugh and pull him into a hug.

"I'm gonna miss you." He hugs you back, holding you tight.

"Yeah, I know." You roll your eyes and wave goodbye to the family you didn't realize you had.

Once back in Liyue, you get settled into your home with Childe. Thankfully, he cleaned up the mess he made while you were gone. He had said he was so distraught at the thought of you leaving him, he trashed the place in anger. Not anger from you, but anger at himself. He was afraid you'd think he was a monster, that he was heartless, and that you'd never want to see him again.

He was relieved when he heard you were in Mondstadt. There, he could keep an eye on you. One of the things he was afraid of was you doing something to yourself due to the pain of it all . . . If you did that, he wouldn't know how to cope. And when he received word that you had disappeared from Mond, well, he thought that fear had come true. But in the end, things worked out. You could never forget what he did, nor do you want to. It's something you have to live with, just like he does, and it's up to you to put it aside.

You know there are many things he's done that he's not proud of. Many things of which he promises to tell you when he's ready. And you'll be there to listen as he spills his heart out to you.

You take in a breath of air as you enter the harbor, smelling the salty water of the ocean and the wonderful herbs being brought in from traveling merchants. You'll never get over these smells.

"_____!" You look over your shoulder, surprised as Chen runs over to you. You haven't seen her since the incident outside of town.

"Chen! Are you okay?" She smiles and hugs you.

"I'm doing great! My brother and I have been selling a lot more of our goods since he's been back, and business has been booming!"

"Your brother?" You tilt your head.

"Yes!" She nods enthusiastically.

"He did go to Lingju Pass as Childe had said. It turns out, he had a buyer out there but didn't want to tell me in case the deal went south. I overreacted. . ." She puts her head down in shame.

"All the rumors about the Fatui got to my head, and I assumed the worst. But Childe went out and found my brother for me. Can you please tell him I said thank you? Also that I'm sorry. I really owe him one."

You pat her on the head, relieved.

"Of course, Chen." She reaches into her pocket and pulls something out.

"For payment-"

"No!" You shove her hand away.

"Gotta go! I'm late to see Tar!" You sprint off, leaving a confused Chen in your wake.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin childe #genshin impact childe #genshin impact childe x reader #genshin childe x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader angst #genshin venti #genshin impact venti #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #angst

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multifandomwriter56 · 4 years

Text

Filling in His Place

A/N: This was a request. Also it’s for @sdavid09 Tale Teller’s 2020 Bingo Challenge.

Square Filled: Follower Prompt

Request by anon: Hey hun! I was wondering if I could request a Shelby!reader where she is Finn’s twin but she is treated the same way as him and she gets in trouble???? Xxxx (I hope this meets your expectations, love)

Summary: Tommy’s done with his sister’s antics and Y/n’s done with pretending her brother will ever be the same.

Characters: Tommy Shelby x Sister!Reader

Warnings: language, angst, spoilers for S4 and S5 (barely)

Word Count: 1,488

(Gif is by @el-cheung)

Y/n loves being a twin. Always having someone the same age as her growing up has made being a Shelby much easier. Finn and her have always been troublemakers; and as they get older, they got into even more trouble.

Tommy used to be able to control the twins, but since he started playing politician, the responsibility fell onto their aunt.

Y/n does feel guilty for stressing their aunt out as much as they do.

The last time they trashed the Garrison, Polly had decided enough was enough and split them up for the time being.

Y/n, unfortunately, drew the short straw so to speak and was sent to the Arrow House.

She had only been there five minutes when Tommy had call her into his office and gave her a lengthy lecture on acting like an adult.

She almost left right then, but she decided spending some time with her niece and nephew would be good. Besides Lizzie, the two children hardly ever saw family;especially Charlie. When her brother and Lizzie would fight, Lizzie would take her and Ruby to Arthur’s place; leaving Charlie behind.

***

One morning she decided she was done with staying in her brother’s mansion and decided to head back to Small Heath.

She stole Tommy's car and was planning on picking up her twin; but when she arrived, he was gone.

Apparently Finn was in London with Arthur for the day.

She thought about going back to the house, but she figured she might as well enjoy her freedom while she still can. She has a feeling, Tommy won't be so forgiving this time.

So she heads to the Garrison for a few drinks. Since John died, it seems like none of her family really goes to the pub anymore besides Finn. Even now, Y/n feels a sadness flow over her as she makes her way to the bar.

“Y/n?”

“Hey Harry, give me bottle of rum.”

“Sorry Y/n, I can’t. Tommy said-”

“Fuck my brother, give me the damn bottle or I’ll get two, and I’ll smash one over your fucking skull.”

Harry weighs in his options. Deal with an angry Shelby now or later. He decides to go with the former. He turns his back on the young woman before turning back to face her with the bottle in his hand.

Y/n smiles sweetly but the man easily sees the sadistic nature in her eyes. Just like her brothers.

“Thanks, Harry.”

Harry waits about ten minutes after Y/n left before picking up the phone. When he receives no answer, he tries the next best.

“Hello.”

“Hey Arthur, I need you to give Tommy a message.”

***

“You’re fucking crazy, Y/n Shelby.”

Johnny Dogs’ words has the youngest Shelby giggling loudly, almost falling off the black stallion Tommy gave Johnny years ago.

“I rather be crazy than fucking normal.” She tips the bottle back, frowning when she barely gets a drop. She slides down off the stallion. “We need more rum.” She announces as she throws the bottle in the air, smiling when it crashes to the ground, shattering into pieces.

“Y/n Shelby!”

“Fuck.” Y/n whispers. She searches around the wooded area with her eyes to try and find the best place to hide. Her gaze lands on an amused Johnny and her eyes instantly narrow. “Did you fucking snitch?”

Johnny’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “I-I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“Huh, that’s true.” Hearing footsteps getting closer, Y/n remembers she was trying to escape.

She takes about two steps before a strong hand grips around her forearm. “Just remember I’m drunk, you can’t yell at me.” She giggles but immediately stops when her eyes finally meet her brother’s.

Tommy grins at his little sister, the same sadistic nature clouding his own eyes. “You want me to wait until you’re fucking sober, eh?”

Y/n is regretting her words. “No, Tommy, wait!” She tries to pull out of her brother’s grasp as he pulls her towards the pond. “Don’t you fucking dare!” She shouts when Tommy pulls her up into his arms. She tries to grip his coat, but being in the drunken state that she is, she’s not able to grip the material tight enough.

The sadistic grin stays until Y/n stops cursing and calms down. Once he has her attention, he drops any sign of amusement and his eyes narrow. “Feel better?”

“No.” Y/n sasses before pulling herself out of the water.

Tommy points in the general direction he came from. “Go to the fucking car.”

“Which one?” She taunts.

“Mine. The one you stole.”

“Borrowed.” She mumbles, but scurries away when Tommy takes two threatening steps towards her. She gets lost twice; the alcohol still running through her veins is making her brain fuzzy.

She screams when someone taps her shoulder.

“Bloody hell, Y/n.” Tommy snaps as he motions for her to follow him.

***

The ride to her brother’s house is dead silent.

Y/n tries to flee up the stairs, but Tommy quickly snatches her arm in a firm grip.

"Not so fucking fast, young lady." He growls in her ear as he pulls her into his office, pushing her just enough to force her to sit on the couch.

"Stop fucking pushing me around!" She snaps.

Tommy points a warning finger mere inches from her face. "Watch the tone."

Y/n bites her lip to keep herself from pissing her brother off even more.

Slightly mollified with her silence, Tommy drops the pointed finger. "If you keep on like this, Y/n, I'm locking you in your fucking room until I find a man to marry you off to."

Y/n's jaw slacks open, hoping she heard her brother wrong. "You're not picking who I marry, asshole. Yes, I would love your blessing when I want to get married; but, as of now, I'm happy being alone. I'm barely of age, still have a few years before I even think about crossing that bridge."

Tommy had instantly regretted his words. He didn't really mean them... well, he didn't mean the part of marrying his baby sister off. Locking her in her room seems to be his only option right now.

"I'm not a child, Tom."

"Then stop fucking acting like one!" He roars, the last string holding his temper snaps. "Fuck, Y/n, every time I see you now, you're in some kind of trouble. You and Finn aren't kids anymore."

"It's not my fault that the only time you want to see your kid siblings is when they're making you look bad!" Y/n snaps back; her hurt and anger from being ignore for so long spilling from her mouth. "You used to want to be around Finn and I. Now you only see us when Arthur calls about our behavior; or Aunt Polly threatens to send us to live with you." She huffs out a humorless laugh. "I thought the older I would get, the more I could be with you, helping you with the business. But I guess I was fucking wrong. I guess there's not much Finn and I can do for you except run errands and be your little messengers."

“So are you done with the childish acts?”

Y/n swallows the sob threaten to escape. She finally sees Tommy; the new Tommy. The one who only cares about getting to the top and proving he’s worthy to sit at the adult table.

He wants her to pretend they solved the issue so he can focus on something more important than her. “Yeah, I’ll behave.” She stands to her feet. “I’m guessing you don’t want me leaving the house anytime soon?”

Tommy nods his head, glad his sister isn’t arguing with him anymore. “You can leave when Pol says you can come back to her place.”

Y/n nods, quickly making her exit from his office so he won’t see the tears freely flowing down her face.

Tommy drops his head, fighting with himself on whether he should stop her. He knows they didn’t make amends, but he has other business in London to tend to.

And if she keeps her word and behaves; he won’t have to worry about her, or Finn for that matter, every second of the day. He needs to stay sharp; his mind can’t be wandering back to his siblings’ whereabouts.

Y/n wipes away the tears as she hears children laughing. She smiles when two kids run to greet her.

“Aunt Y/n, we missed you!”

She hugs them both. “Oh, I missed you too.”

She silently promises to her niece and nephew that she will do what her brother wishes as long as she can; just so she can be near them. They need a father; but she’ll do her best to fill in his spot.

Forevers: @beautycinders @desiredposion

#tale teller's 2020 bingo challenge #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby!reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

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jackie5656 · 3 years

Text

🎄Fa-la-la-late🎄 With; Diego Hargreeves

A/N:Ummmm...hello? First off, thank you all so much for the love on my last couple imagines. Sorry for the hiatus, what can I say junior year is as hard as they say it is. Anyway, I was supposed to be sleeping last night but I was writing this instead. Leave it to me to become inspired at the worst times. This is for everyone celebrating a holiday this year without your family because of the pandemic (which is still a thing btw.) Also, this is very long but I love it. Okay enough talking, enjoy!

TW: None except...Well, Klaus is Klaus. And more random POV change bc I can!

He’s running, sprinting really, brown bag tucked haphazardly under his arm as it’s contents jostle around inside with his movements. Filled with last minute groceries for the evenings event. Never in Diego Hargreeves’ life had he thought he’d be rushing home in preparations for a Christmas party, in a red sweater for that matter. But what can he say, a year into his relationship with her and he’s officially whipped. Ever since the two of you met you had introduced him to an enormity of things he’d never considered important. Whether it be birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, you’ve added so much more to him that he could never really repay you for. So, he figures making a very last minute trip to the ever so crowded grocery store on Christmas Eve is worth it. Having to deal with other crazed and unprepared city people for three types of cheeses, four types of crackers, and a particularly expensive bottle of wine.

Apparently a Christmas party, or any get together for that matter, is simply incomplete without an assortment of appetizers. Right, Diego Hargreeves hosting a Christmas party for his siblings. The same ones who only learned about holidays in their World Culture textbooks during hours sectioned off on their daily regimen instead of actually celebrating them. The biting cold reminds him of the lonely Christmas’ throughout his life, which was at the time any other day of the year to him. He snaps out of the dark thoughts when he realizes he’s made it up the stairs and to the front door, a chorus of clanging pots and curses coming from inside.

He fumbles through the door, reminding himself he’s supposed to be rushing, but the beautifully decorated apartment distracts him from the task at hand. The warm feeling he’s still getting used to fluttering through his stomach as he recalls when you first surprised him with the holiday decor.

“It’s not too much, right? I know you never really celebrated Christmas, and neither of us are religious but my family always made the holidays a big deal and I thought-”

“You did all this?” His brown eyes are wide, gazing up at the assortment of twinkling lights aligning the interior of your shared home, a beautiful tree full of red and green ornaments in the middle of your living room. It’s stunning, to say the least, and Diego’s sure he’s never felt so much at home as he does now.

You’re gazing up at him, eyes nervously darting between your boyfriend and the assortment of ornaments. He walks forward from the entryway to admire the garland above the fireplace and the evergreen that just barely scruffs the top of the ceiling. It’s all new to him, and a bit overwhelming, and suddenly Diego realizes the resentment he’s held toward the holiday ever since he was a child was completely misguided. Because the joy he feels now, the warmth tingling throughout his body is foreign but so comforting.

“You hate it, don’t you? Listen, I just thought maybe I’d try and show you Christmas isn’t all about consumerism and selling shitty-”

“It’s beautiful.” He interrupts again, and you swear there’s a moisture begging to leave his eyes as he finally looks to you with an awed expression.

“I don’t, I’ve never...I always hated Christmas. I guess because I never had a real family as a kid. But this, this is j-just...Thank you.”

*End Flashback*

“You’re late!” You shout as the front door bursts open, a familiar thud of boots kicking snow off their bottoms and then walking towards the kitchen. Diego walks in with hands full with groceries, hair wet and messy with flurries of snow littering the raven strands. You narrow your eyes at the sight of him, dopey smile on his face as he sets the bags down on the counter.

“What’s gotten into you? I thought you’d still be grumpy at the fact that we’re hosting.” You’re less than presentable at the moment, having been cooking all day and leaving getting yourself ready for last minute. You puff a stray hair out of your face as he responds.

“Nothing, and actually I am still upset that my siblings are coming over.” He leans against the counter as you unpack the groceries, eager to finish up so you can look a little less crazy when the remaining Hargreeves arrive. Diego is still staring at you, grinning fondly at how flustered you look. And although he’d rather not have you meet his brothers and sister, you deserve to know why he’s keeping you from meeting. After all, it’s been a year since you’ve been together, and he’s met your family already.

It’s different though, because although they too have their issues, your family isn’t a dysfunctional pack of emotionally-stunted freaks. He’d much rather protect you from their intrusive antics. The warm feeling fades as he realizes what’s to come. He appreciates your optimism, truly, but he suddenly can’t shake the feeling that they’ll manage to upset you and ultimately screw up what you’ve been preparing for all day.

“A little help please?” You ground him once more, gesturing to the bags beside the both of you and the assortment of trays of food on the counters. Diego grabs onto your sides when you try to brush past him to check on the turkey, ignoring your incredulous look as he presses his body against yours.

“There’s still time to call this all off, you know. We can watch all the cheesy Christmas movies you want, and have dinner all to ourselves.” His eyes are hopefully looking into yours, the persuasion in his tone hinting a part of him isn’t really joking.

“Absolutely not. Di, we’ve been together for a year now. I want to get to know your siblings. Besides, you met my family and they loved you!”

“That’s different y/n, you’re family is...Well, they’re not like mine! You guys are normal! My brother is a moon-obsessed, half monkey moron and my sister is a mind-controlling movie star.” You can’t help but giggle at his words even though his frustration is adamant. He backs away from your embrace and runs his a hand through his hair in an effort to calm himself down. The sudden thought of one of them being too pushy or making you upset is overwhelming him now. If it’s one thing he’d like to keep you from, it’s the bad side of him his siblings tend to bring out.

“Diego.” Your voice is soft now, you’re using that love-laced tone that always makes him feel like he’s melting. He shivers as you get closer to him, still somehow getting used to the effect you have on him. And although you don’t notice, you seem to be aware you’re calming him down. “I’m scared too, I don’t want to mess something up or embarrass myself in front of them. Hell, your little-or...Older brother is a time traveling assassin who’s kind of a genius. It’s intimidating definitely, but they’re your family Di. I know you hate to admit it, but they’ve played a huge role in who you are. And even if a lot of times you resent each other, it’s clear you love them.”

He’s gotta admit, you’ve always had a way with words. “Fine, what can I do to help beautiful?”

“you can start with setting the table so I can get ready and actually look beautiful. And use the good China!” You plant a quick kiss to his cheek before rushing off to the bedroom, silently praying the anxious won’t drop a plate or two in the process.

****************************

“Baby, does red or white wine go with tur-woah.” You’re doing some finishing touches on your makeup when Diego walks in, honey brown eyes shamelessly looking over your figure with a smirk as he now leans against the door frame.

You roll you eyes at his ogling, but can’t help smoothing down the silky olive green fabric of the dress your wearing with a pleased smile. Gold jewelry adorns your neck and ears, with matching gold heels to bring the look together. The red of his sweater (he so stubbornly obliged to wearing) compliments the green you're wearing beautifully. A year ago, Diego wonders just how much it would take him to put on anything other than black.

“Cmon, they’ll be here any minute.”

As if I’m cue, the doorbell of the apartment rings. You rush to the front door, Diego trailing behind as he reminds himself how important the evening is to you.

“And remember, no knives.” You whisper to him, turning back around and opening the door.

“Fröhliche Weihnachten!” Klaus pushes through the entryway excitedly, tackling you in a hug in greeting. Luckily, you’ve already met the most eccentric sibling of the bunch. As he often crashes at your place, much to Diego’s disliking (or so he says).

“My my my, that dress is to die for! I’ll be borrowing that soon. And those heels! Please tell me we’re the same siz-”

“Alright bonehead, you can steal her stuff later. Take yourself and the booze to the kitchen.” Diego interrupts, shrugging when you slap his shoulder at his bluntness.

Greeting the rest of the family goes better than expected. Allison and Luther arrived together (an innocent carpool of course) whilst Vanya had come just a few minutes after Klaus, happy to see she wasn’t the first to arrive. She brought along with her a homemade dish, Allison with a top notch bottle of champagne, and Five with a box of Griddy’s donuts and...Coffee? His odd choice of food making the perfect ice breaker, to his confusion of course.

“Alright, enough small talk. Diego, how much are you paying this lovely lady to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Klaus interjects your conversation about current events as the rest of the table looks to the pair of you and laughs.

“Seriously, Allison couldn’t even rumor someone to be this good of a cook,” Luther chimes in. Not having looked up from his plate for a majority of the meal.

Although slightly offended, Diego realizes his siblings have a valid point. You’re blushing crimson as you laugh along, shaking your head and nervously rambling on about when you just last week almost burnt the apartment down trying to perfect said recipes. He’s entranced as you speak, admiring the way you seem to capture all of them with unknown ease. Unknown, truly, because you’re still too modest to see how perfect you are. He doesn’t deserve you, but he’ll spend every day trying to even out the impossible score. It's known he can be quite the competitor.

“I’m just shocked he’s out of black for once.”

“Says the 45 year old in a school uniform!”

**********************

“Alright, I’ll clear up dinner so we can start dessert.” Y/n announces, just in time to halt a three-way argument between her boyfriend, Luther and Five about some Academy mission from when they were kids. The evening has been lighthearted for the most part, with a majority of the conflict being steered off by Allison or Vanya. The two practically experts at distracting their egotistical brothers. You catch on as they do so, the three of you having shared a few sly smirks between one another a few times throughout the meal.

“Please y/n, let me. You’ve done more than enough tonight. Besides, I need someone to test out that wine for me.” Allison assures, kicking Diego’s shin and motioning to the kitchen when you’ve given her an appreciative smile and inquired Vanya on her violin skills.

Allison’s knife wielding brother shoots her a look of shock at her actions, trailing along confusedly after her. Your empty plate and his own in hand as he sets them down in the sink.

“What the hell? Why-where-you-hiding-her-from-us!) The curly haired woman emphasizes each word with a smack of a stray dish towel to his arm, sure nobody can hear them over Klaus’ obnoxious storytelling back in the dining room.

“Quit it! I wasn’t hiding her I-I was protecting her from you shitheads.” Diego defends, once again bewildered by his sister’s playful outburst.

“Diego! She’s amazing, you should’ve introduced us forever ago.”

“Right, she’s amazing. What do you not get by the word protecting? If you all had met her any sooner you would have scared her off!” He flails his arms as he speaks, unaware of his flushed cheeks as his sister smiles fondly at him.

“What now Allison?”

“You loooveee her.” She poke his side as she teases, chuckling again when he swats her arm away. The scene is childish, but something about the heat rising through his neck to the tips of his ears makes Diego feel like a kid again. Allison teasing him about girls, just as they had when they were young.

“Wh-whatever. Yeah, I love her. Can we go back to the table now, or should we paint our nails and giggle about how totes adorbs Luther Looks in that coat?” They both laugh at his mocking, leaving the room and too giddy to remember the discarded plates left behind.

***********************

“An espresso machine? Wow, Columbia-brewed K-cups too! You shouldn’t have y/n.” Five is beaming at the gift in hand, wrapping paper still hanging off the side of the box as he admires the machine. His siblings stare confusedly at his jolly demeanor, and he immediately clears his throat before giving said girl a curt nod. “Thanks.” He deadpans, and you laugh with a nod at his change in demeanor.

Luther and Allison have already opened their gifts, the burly man pointing to his miniature moon replica and lecturing about the craters and valleys to an extremely bored Klaus. Allison has already put on the elegant gold charm bracelet you’ve given her, rolling charm with Claire’s initials and birthstone on it with glossy eyes. Beside her, Vanya delicately peels the wrapping off to a freshly polished violin case, her name inscribed in cursive on the top.

“It’s beautiful. I-I’m so sorry we didn’t get you anything. If I had known-”

“Nonsense V, I’m just glad you could all make it tonight.” You reassure with genuine smile, glad to see her positive response to the nickname.

“I still can’t believe you got them gifts.” Diego mumbles from behind you, having climbed over the back of the couch you’re all sat on to have you sit between his legs. He kisses your temple and wraps his arms around your middle, softly humming when yo lean into him. The fireplace is crackling, and the record payer you love dearly quietly plays a Perry Como Christmas album. You close your eyes, taking in the warm feeling and relaxing in Diego’s touch. The two of you jumping when a shout comes from beside you.

“My turn! My turn!” Klaus claps loudly to grab your attention. You chuckle at his childish ways, leaning down to pick up the wrapped present at your feet and handing it off to him. Unlike the others, he eagerly rips apart the wrapping, gasping dramatically when he lifts up the skirt.

“You’re a bit hard to shop for, there’s a gift receipt if-” The excitable man scrambles up from the floor tug on the fabric, twirling around in it in a fit of giggles before you can finish your statement.

“Great, he’ll never take that off.” Diego mumbles in your ear, you shake your head with a smirk at his teasing before you’re reminded of something.

“Oh! And one more thing.” You note suddenly, climbing out of Diego’s hold as he huffs reluctantly. You pull a a final present from under the tree, secretly handing it to Klaus to make sure the others don’t see. Though they’re too enveloped in conversation to noticed.

“Another one for me?” He whispers happily, eyes furrowing when you shake your head. Sitting back down in Diego’s arms before you explain.

“No, well...Yes, sort of. You’ll see.” You ramble, gesturing to the box in his hands as he apprehensively chuckles. You feel Diego’s eyes on you, deciding to place a peck on his jaw instead of elaborating.

Klaus pulls out a pair of books, readig the well-known titles before looking up at you. You motion to the box once more, biting your nail as he sets them aside and reaches in once more. He pulls out picture frame with a sharp intake of breathe, hand going over his mouth as he looks up at you once more. Your boyfriend, eager to see what has silenced his rowdy brother, takes the frame to inspect it.

It’s a picture of him, Klaus, and Ben on the front steps of the academy. Having to be only five or six in the photo. Klaus has an arm around Ben, smiling big for the camera as his brother offers a smaller, but no less genuine grin to the lens. Diego sits a step above them, mouth frozen open in a laugh as he must of been reaction to something only Klaus could make him react so much at.

“I remember Di telling me Ben read a lot. And...Well, it felt wrong to get everyone else a gift but him. Those are two of my favorit-”

“Wh-Where did you find this?” Diego whispers, arms encircled even tighter around you as he holds up the frame in shock.

“When we were moving in. I found it at the bottom of one of the shelves at your room at the gym. It was under a bunch of old books you had, I figured it could use a frame.” Just as you finish, Klaus practically tackles you in a hug, a soft hiccup coming from him when he pulls away.

“Geez Klaus, it’s just a skirt!”

“Can-it Luther!”

*************************

“You think he’ll be alright?” You mutter from the bedroom hallway. You and Diego leaning against the wall, looking at Klaus whose passed out on the sofa. The others having left hours ago, but you simply couldn’t wake him at seeing how peaceful he was. The picture frame still tucked to his chest as he snored softly.

“Trust me, he’s fine. I think he’ll be sleeping in that skirt every night from now on.” Diego pulls you to your bedroom door as you laugh, the exhaustion from today finally setting.

“Hey, would you look at that? Mistletoe.” Your head trails upwards to gaze up at the fruit being dangled above your head as you grin.

“Those are grapes Di.”

“Are they? Hmm, must be from that stupid cheese board I had to run across town for.”

“It’s a chacuterie, actually. Didn’t you learn French Hargreeves?”

“Yep, but I only seem to remember two words.”

“Oh really? And what might those be?”

“Embrasse moi” He finishes as he connects his lips with yours, holding your face as if you might slip away when he lets go.

“Smooth, knife boy.” You pull away softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Merry Christmas Di.”

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagines #The Umbrella Academy #umbrella acedmy #vanya hargreeves #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #five hargreeves #klaus #klaus hargreeves #tua netflix #netflix #christmas #fiction #imagines #tua fanfic #ben hargreeves

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disregardcanon · 3 years

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rwby julie and the phantoms au featuring dead girl band rwby and jaune as the conduit. but like, jaune who just half-way cheated his way into music school

the year is 1995 and the girl band RWBY is a rising power in the indie music world. composed of four talented, each with a rich and interesting backstory for the public to latch onto, they’re well on their way to becoming LGBT icons- if not actual stars. weiss, blake, and yang are twenty and ruby is eighteen.

weiss schnee is the daughter of silicone valley tycoon jacques schnee, who made headlines when she cut off all her hair and ran away from home to join a queer girl band. she’s the second schnee daughter to leave home, winter having joined the military back in 1992. she’s the band’s lead vocalist, though she occasionally plays violin in tracks that they write it into.

blake belladonna is already a famous singer. she sprung onto the scene in 1992 in a duo known as “bellataurus”. acting as the full sonny and cher package, adam taurus served as both older boyfriend and older manager until blake broke from him and helped to form RWBY in 1994. she took her vocals, her piano skills, GUITAR skills, and her songwriting skills with her.

yang xiao long and ruby rose are legacies of the highest order. summer, raven, qrow, and tai formed a band when they were kids and they became some of the biggest rockstars of the seventies and eighties- and later some of the biggest scandals. raven and tai’s messy, public breakup after the birth of their daughter signaled the band’s death- but then the birth of tai and SUMMER’S child signaled an even bigger scandal. the tabloids had an absolute field day over the new baby.

yang learned lots of instruments, but mainly took up the drums from her dad. the same went for ruby, but she mainly stole qrow’s guitar and made him teach her to shred.

unfortunately, the media never stopped following the two kids around, even through ruby’s transition. in a mixed bag for the remnants of STRQ and their children, the media circus that followed ruby rose coming out as a girl in NINETEEN NINETY TWO. the remaining members of STRQ still had a lot of clout and fully put their support behind her, but transmisognyny’s a bitch and it still followed them everywhere. yang coming out publicly as a lesbian neither helped nor hindered the situation, but it did make ruby feel a bit less alone.

the girls formed their band about a year before their- uh, UNTIMELY deaths in 1995. this came 3 days after a confrontation between blake and adam, where she promised that she would never, EVER date him again. she wouldn’t even work with him again. she and her band were going to become stars and actually help make social changes, instead of them just bullying her into going along with whatever THEY want from her and keeping her mouth shut because politics kills careers.

they’re playing the ORPHEUM! the theater where so many bands have gotten their big break! she doesn’t need him now and she didn’t need him then.

eating bad street hot dogs after the warm up for a performance that blake promised adam 3 days ago would be the best that she ever gave- well. that’s just a weird coincidence, right?

cue 2020.

jaune arc has recently gotten into his first semester at a prestigious music college in the LA area, close to his family’s home where he still lives. the garage/studio out back remains largely untouched. half of that’s because cleaning the place out would be a lot of work, but half of it’s because his parents feel bad about the idea of cleaning out all of STRQ’s old recording equipment that both summer and tai promised they “didn’t want anymore” while selling the house in the wake of their daughters’ deaths.

it’s not like the area is really suitable as a garage, and the arcs can spare a little room just in case those people ever change their minds.. even though they haven’t in twenty five years.

jaune’s house isn’t completely empty because he still has one of his older sisters going to college in LA at the same time, but it’s preeetttyy empty. his parents are hands off at this point and don’t even wonder how their baby who never even took any music lessons has gotten into a school like this.

it’s not like he doesn’t sing and sing pretty well, but they’re not even certain he can read music. spoiler alert: he can’t.

jaune is actually VERY good at working by ear and performing, but his music education growing up was lacking. on all levels. his parents encouraged him to do sports as his primary activity and he had no time for anything else and his public school music ed did not get him what he needed to go to music school.

frankly, he doesn’t even know what a treble clef is called. so. he’s a bit behind when going into his college classes. he was only able to fake the paperwork to get into music theory II, but considering that he’s. uh, completely unaware of what those notes mean he’s a bit fucked.

he’s always just been able to pull the song out of his ass because he listened to enough music to learn stuff by ear, but now he’s supposed to work through all this stuff with notation and he MIGHT BE DYING

he’s assigned to a group project with ren and nora and pyrrha and, well, thank god pyrrha notices and is kind enough to try to fill in the cracks.

but there’s a lot of cracks, you know? he’s barely pulling the grades that he needs to not get kicked out of the program at the moment, and he’s not entirely sure how to go about getting an accompanist for his end of semester showcase and ren and nora are already working together (they both play guitar and sing together) and pyrrha’s a soloist and -

oh god, he’s going to get kicked out of this program, isn’t he?

pyrrha keeps talking him down out of the anxiety because she is very kind and has a very big crush because jaune still has noticed that she’s a pop star that wanted to (but is failing to) have a normal college experience.

she lets him borrow her copy of RWBY’s first and only album and lets him take it home to listen to it. he decides to listen to it in the studio because he knows that’s where music, at one point, happened.

and it of course summons the souls of all four girls. they have ghostly mischief as they try to figure out how to make things work, and realize that while people who aren’t jaune can’t see them- people can HEAR THEM. and then when they play along with jaune for his end of semester show case- they realize that people can SEE THEM when they play with him.

pyrrha is confused about why jaune’s hologram band looks so much like RWBY, and she’s a little jealous and hurt that he’s been keeping this from her while letting HER bear the brunt of helping him with his struggles. jaune doesn’t know how to say that yeah, those are the actual ghosts of RWBY.

petty drama, petty drama, the girls are feeling suffocated by the fact that they’re actually dead and can’t interact with anyone who’s alive. ruby decides to go clear her head and meets another, very sweet and enthusiastic ghost named penny who likes to skateboard.

penny is very sweet and ruby has what is known in show biz as a CRUSH. ruby learns a bit about how this ghost stuff works from her (some powers, about the unfinished business being what’s tying them to the land of the living, that she is VERY GAY) and she comes back to her friends to say hello yes i know things now and am also gay. wasn’t positive about that before but it’s a fact now

here’s where i lose my thread and am too tired to find it again but other things

1. ironwood is the villain of this. if you’re familiar with jatp, he serves the same function as caleb covington if not the exact same motives. he seals souls to him by a contract but with the express purpose of building a safe afterlife for ghosts... by making sure that all of them are under his control. winter, who died in one of the united state’s middle eastern campaigns is his right hand ghost.

weiss is majorly conflicted by this because. it’s winter, you know? it’s winter. and it seems like this guy is trying to make things better for ghosts, right? he’s got a homebase and he can make them visible sometimes and make it so they can eat food and lots of stuff. but it comes with a heavy level of control.

he doesn’t go after the girls until later because he thinks that they’ll come back, but when he DOES... the fact that he owns penny’s soul and doesn’t see her or any of the souls under his control as full people comes up in an ugly way.

2. adam taurus is the trevor wilson of this, but waaaayyy worse. he did in fact kill the girls and pillaged what he could of blake’s songs to record and put out under his own name. he‘s a big star, but a fading one, and he has a few vengeful ghost coming for him.

3. winter is a ghost, but whitley is a ghost of himself. at this point he’s forty and still doesn’t even know what he wants because he’s molded himself into what his dad wants so thoroughly. getting him to realize that he wants more and wants things for himself definitely comes up. winter also helps take down ironwood and free the souls. eventually

4. jaune IS a necromancer. he’s going to be able to see penny and others and eventually can give ghosts the power they need to be seen whenever they want. RWBYJNPR eventually becomes a big band that plays together sometimes

5. raven only came back for a few days for yang and ruby’s funeral before disappearing. qrow fell from grace quite dramatically when he accused adam taurus of murder with no evidence and became the laughing stock of america. he kept trying to find something that would fill the holes in his life, but he hasn’t lucked out with that yet... except the alcoholism, maybe.

tai and summer are still together, but they’re pretty miserable and they moved far away from LA to get out of the spotlight.

RWBY gets summer, tai, and qrow back together on purpose... and raven shows up when she sees her dead daughter singing on national television. the STRQ reunion is awkward and stilted, but things get better from there.

strq instruments

summer: vocalist with some piano

raven and qrow: bass and standard guitar respectively with some vocals

tai: drummer with some vocals

6. pyrrha and jaune eventually actually become the great duo that adam tried to market himself and blake as. sorry not sorry

7. not sure how they do it but they DO prove that adam murdered them and all of them including qrow get Vindication TM

8. the bumbleby isn’t a big plot point but they were dancing around getting together when they died and it happens slowly once they’re back <3

#rwby aus #jaune arc #team rwby #team strq #arkos #nuts and dolts #bumbleby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #schneeblings

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petersthree · 4 years

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Hey guys! I have a fic that’s based off of @niamaggie ‘s prompt list, the prompt is as follows:

Prompt: There’s more to Alex’s story with his family outside of what Luke said. They don’t just disapprove of him, they outright pretend he doesn’t exist. It gets to a point where he completely breaks down in the studio after having a bad practice day (the kind of day where nothing is going right). Being a ghost, is like what his family did to him, but on a much bigger scale. It’s much harder to deal with...Just want the band to comfort him, please.

Huge thank you to @superbandnerd99 for beta-reading! I’ve tagged people under the cut who liked my excerpt post; please let me know if you want to be untagged!

Crossposted to AO3 (properly formatted here)

Fic: Ghost in the Family

Alex had told himself that he was going to be fine being in his old home. It was fine. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t stepped foot in the house in twenty-five and a half years. It was fine. It was fine.

Sure, his stomach was twisting in knots and he felt like his heart could beat out of his nonexistent chest - actually, wait. Could it do that? He still wasn’t sure how much their new solidity worked and the thought of his chest literally beating out of his chest was almost as terrifying as the thought of stepping back into his family home was.

Okay. He was doing it again. Spiraling, as Julie liked to call it. Or totally wigging out, dude, as Reggie liked to call it. Or haha, wow, look at this dude lose it, guys, as Carlos liked to - okay. Alex sighed, shaking out his hands and staring at his house. It hadn’t changed a bit over the past 25 years, save for a new white mailbox with an American flag emblazoned on the side. Alex couldn’t remember their old one, but he was pretty sure it was better than that.

He walked up the steps slowly, each step closer feeling like another step towards his doom - which was dumb, of course, he had been the one to say he wanted to just check up on his parents, he was the one who told the rest of the band and Willie (and Carlos, who followed them around everywhere he physically could) to not come with him, he was the one who got it into this head that he needed to see his family again.

He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths, trying to center himself. Relax, he told himself. They can’t see you. You’ll be fine. He breathed in deep again before opening his eyes and ringing the bell.

The door opened, and Alex looked at the woman in front of him. “Mom?” he asked - a stupid question, because she was looking right through him and obviously wasn’t going to answer, and because if this woman was mom, she would have to be a ghost too. He squinted as the realization hit him. “Lizzie?” he asked this time.

His sister looked around in confusion, for a millisecond looking right at him, and when he heard an old woman’s voice ask who was there, his sister shrugged and said, “Doorbell must be on the fritz.”

Alex slipped in before she closed the door, and stared at the place he used to call his home.

It hadn’t changed a bit. Well, it had changed a little since the day he had left. They had stripped away the carpet and there was a mahogany floor now. Alex wondered when that had happened. Certainly after he had left. He remembered the carpet covered with bits of glass after his father had thrown the family photos on the floor with such a force that the frames had cracked. Alex could remember the stony silence as he had stood there, staring at the pieces of glass glistening on the carpet, barely registering Luke’s hand on his own as he pulled him out the door. He had mumbled something about his clothes, only for Luke to say he had grabbed some, but when Alex was in the backseat of Reggie’s car looking through the duffel Luke had packed, the David Bowie sweatshirt he had borrowed from Reggie hadn’t been there alongside his favorite puka-shell necklace and Alex had tried to tell himself that it was okay even as the tears had run down his face and the pressure in his chest tightened so much that he felt like he was going to choke.

Maybe that was his unfinished business, to give Reggie his shirt back? He wondered if it was still around, somewhere, but his thought was interrupted when he felt his sister walk through him. God, what a weird thing to experience, Alex could always feel people’s emotions when they passed through and it unnerved him whenever it happened. As she passed through him there was a hint of - anxiety? No, not quite, he told himself. It felt a bit like his anxiety creeping up, but while he would feel like there was something in his chest tightening as it tried to get out, this felt heavier somehow, like a great big nothing that could swallow him whole if he let it. But there was a warmth there too, slow and steady, that let him know without a doubt that this was his older sister.

He wondered where Nina, his younger sister was, but one look at the family photos on the wall answered his question. An unfamiliar woman was on the wall, side-by-side with a brown-haired man, two smiling babies on their laps. Nina must have moved out ages ago. His eyes flitted to the photo next to it. Nina and Lizzie were there, their arms around an older woman with long graying hair and an old man with his mouth set in a straight line but a smile in his eyes. The family photos littering the staircase didn’t seem to have him on it at all, just photos of Lizzie and Nina and his parents. It was as if every trace of him was gone from their lives, down to the pictures.

Two figures walked down the stairs, and Alex backed up quickly, giving them a wide berth. He knew they could pass through them and could already hear Reggie and Luke’s voices in his head reminding him that he was a ghost, it was fine, but the thought of Alex’s parents passing through him made Alex feel sick in a way that he couldn’t quite explain. He followed his parents as they sat down in the living room, his mother on her phone and his father turning on the television to watch some sitcom. His mother leaned towards his dad, showing him something funny on her phone, and the two laughed, and when Lizzie came over and peered at the image and joined in, the sounds mixing in with the canned laughter of the unseen audience from the sitcom.

Alex tried peering over their shoulders to peek at the phone, but his dad’s frame kept blocking his view. “Just move for a second,” he said absentmindedly to his dad. “I want to see.”

His father, of course, didn’t respond, and then the phone was put back into his mother’s pocket, Lizzie went towards the kitchen, and the house was quiet, besides the commercial about some discount furniture store playing on the screen. Alex stood in front of the television, watching his parents look through him. He would accompany Luke and Reggie to see their families from time to time. Luke’s parents always walked around like living ghosts, as if a little bit of the light had gone out of their eyes. Reggie’s would laugh and smile but stare off into the distance when they thought nobody was paying attention.

Mom looked a little bored. Dad yawned.

Alex felt the crushing anxiety switch to a feeling similar to anger, and it welled up in him as he slammed the wall in frustration. At the last second, he thought, No, maybe I should just phase through but his hand was already making contact and he could only soften the blow, making just a sad pitiful thump on the wall.

His mother’s eyes went to the wall and furrowed in confusion, but his father waved his hand. “Bird probably hit the window again,” he said, and his mother shrugged, turning her attention back to the screen.

“I - okay,” Alex sighed, the angry-adjacent feeling gone. He suddenly felt tired, and he walked out the door, leaving his unaware family behind.

He moved past the people strolling down the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding bumping into people as he walked by. “Excuse me,” he muttered as he moved around a group of kids riding their bikes. He sidestepped one house’s sprinkles a second too late and he flinched slightly as the water shot out towards him until it passed through him and he sighed. Right. Ghost.

It wasn’t until he had gotten to the garage door that he realized he could have just poofed home, and he blinked back tears. He couldn’t even be a ghost correctly. He squared up his shoulders and tried to make his face as light and casual as possible, and he poofed inside, where the band was already setting up for their next practice.

“Alex!” Julie said, lighting up, though her eyes filled with concern when she saw his face. “Are you okay?”

Well. There went light and casual. Yet another thing Alex couldn’t do, apparently.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alex said, though even to himself it sounded like an obvious lie, but besides Luke and Reggie sharing a look that they thought he didn’t see, there were no further comments, and Alex sat down in front of his drums.

Practice was a disaster.

Alex tried staying on beat, but with every measure of the song, a new memory would come to him.

Him locking eyes with Luke whenever Luke would turn during a performance, the way his heart would flutter when Luke winked at him.

Stuttering out a confession to Luke, only for Luke to lean in and kiss him on the lips, Alex staring at Luke and asking, “Does - does that mean you like me too?”

Him telling his parents that he was gay, watching his father’s eyes glass over and just...getting up, ignoring Alex’s frantic, “Dad?”

Of the one time his Dad had acknowledged him in months when he said he liked that young man Luke in his band, something that Alex thought was Dad was secretly telling him that he knew they were dating and was proud, and that they could tell him, that he was finally ready to see Alex.

When his father slammed all the family photos and threw them on the ground, and Alex realized he had been so desperate for acceptance that he’d misunderstood his father’s comment, which meant nothing. Just like him.

Him breaking down in the garage one month into living there, telling Luke that he didn’t think he could do this, any of it, and the hurt in Luke’s eyes before he told Alex that he had to do whatever was best for him.

Alex was aware that the band had stopped playing and were staring back at him, concern clear in their eyes.

I can’t even get it together for my band, he thought, and he threw his drumsticks down in frustration. They were moving towards him, and Alex felt the crushing feeling in his chest again except ten times stronger and the tears that had been threatening to flow ever since he had entered his parent’s home were now freely streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Julie said, and he felt three pairs of arms around him. “Tell us what’s wrong,” she said. “Don’t keep it in.”

“I never gave you back your sweatshirt, Reggie,” Alex sobbed into what he thought was Reggie’s chest.

“Uh, well, that’s fine,” Reggie said, a bit of confusion mixing in with his sympathy. “All of you always stole my clothes. I’m pretty sure Bobby’s still wearing my jeans, which honestly? Super dumb. We’ve been dead for 25 years, what’s his excuse for wearing the same clothes?”

Alex laughed, and the group broke their hug, smiling along with him. Julie’s arm was on his back, Reggie still had his arm around Alex’s waist in a semi hug, and Luke was holding onto Alex’s hand. Alex looked down at their intertwined hands and then back at Luke, but instead of withdrawing, Luke simply squeezed his hand.

“I’m guessing the family visit didn’t go so hot?” Reggie asked. It was blunt, but his tone was kind and he unconsciously gripped a little tighter onto Alex’s waist.

“No,” Alex admitted. “I haven’t been there since...well you know, since I left, and it just…” he trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

“Did it remind you of the day you left?” Julie asked, rubbing small circles on his back. His mom used to do the same for him as a kid whenever he came home sobbing because he messed up a performance or had answered a question wrong in class. The motion made him feel safe and comforted, even as it caused a heavy ache to spread across his chest.

“No,” Alex said, wiping at his tears. “Or, kind of. It was definitely part of it, but being there just reminded me that…” he trailed off again, trying to think of the words.

Alex had hated the day he had left, but a sick part of him had been relieved when his father had thrown down all their photos and raved at how upset he was, at his mother sitting on the couch massaging her temple, saying that she was disappointed.

It had been awful, but nothing compared to the months before. Throughout the day it was bearable - they all had their own things going on and it was easier to pretend like everyone was just busy instead of actively ignoring him - but whenever they sat down to eat was always the worst. Only Lizzie and Nina would be asked questions about their day and Alex would have to grab a plate because there were only four set on the table. Nina was so little that she thought it was a game and she’d grin with delight every time Alex asked for someone to pass the salt, giving her the chance to ask, “Did you guys hear something?” and lighting up every time their dad said, “No, I don’t think I did.” Lizzie would sigh at it and pass it to him, but even with her distaste at the petty shunning, she still wouldn’t look at him. He had asked her once, to look at him, and she had said, I am, all the while avoiding eye contact.

“Me being a ghost and me being alive is the same thing,” he finally said. “That’s what it feels like. Every song we had was stolen by Bobby, nobody sees me if Julie’s not around, and there’s not a single picture of me up back home.” He gave a humorless laugh as a thought came to him. “I always felt like a ghost in my own home, and now I literally am.”

“No, you’re not,” Luke said.

“Well, you are a ghost,” Reggie added, and Julie nudged him. “Ow, what?”

“Okay, well you’re a ghost, true,” Luke amended. “But this is your home.”

“And we see you,” Julie said.

“And Willie, Flynn, Carlos, and Ray now too,” Reggie chimed in. “You may be dead, but your social life has never been better.”

“And I don’t know how yet, but I will find a way to make sure everyone else can see you too,” Julie said, moving her hand from his back and holding on to his other free hand. “Not just when we’re performing. Always.”

Alex looked into her eyes, wide and earnest, and he nodded. “Okay,” he said. It didn’t encompass what he thought - that he knew without a doubt that Julie was telling the truth, that she’d spend the rest of her life figuring out how to do it, that even if she couldn’t it still meant the world to Alex that she was going to try, no matter what.

Luke spoke next. “And they may be your family on paper,” he said in the same carefully gentle voice he always used when he spoke about Alex’s family. “But we’re your family too. You’re our family.”

“Nothing is ever going to change that,” Reggie said, and he got up. Alex looked up at him, expecting a mini-pep talk, but Reggie’s eyes filled with tears and he tackled Alex into a hug, knocking Alex back, chair and all. Julie and Luke shrieked as they fell backwards with him on the floor.

Alex laughed and sat up (not easy, with Reggie still clinging onto him, but he got it done). He wrapped his now free hands around Reggie. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I know. We’re family.”

“We definitely are,” Luke said, practically throwing himself onto the both of them and enveloping them both in a hug.

Alex smiled at the two of them and then looked over at Julie, who had sat up and was smiling at the group, an unsure look on his face.

“Julie,” Alex said lightly, “I think I need one more person hugging me to feel better.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile grew and the unsure look in her eyes disappeared, and she joined in on the group hug.

The garage doors squeaked open, and Alex heard a sigh.

“You guys are having another crying session?” Carlos asked, and the group broke apart.

“No,” Luke said, wiping at his eyes.

“Sure,” Carlos said in a voice that yelled, I definitely don’t believe you. “Well, when you’re done not crying, Dad said it’s time for dinner, so hurry up.”

With that, he was gone, and Julie got up from her spot on the floor. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go have dinner.”

“Your dad remembers we’re ghosts, right?” Luke asked.

“Nuh-uh, not this argument again,” Julie said, struggling and failing to keep her face serious. “You remember what Dad said last time you said that, family time -”

“-is family time, whether you eat or not,” the rest of the boys finished, and Julie grinned.

“Exactly,” she said. “So come on.”

“Just give me a second,” Alex said, and at the worried looks from his bandmates he gave them a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. I just want to clean up the equipment a bit and then I’ll be in.”

Reggie patted him on the back and then he was out the door, yelling that he wanted to sit next to Ray, while Julie laughed and trailed after him. Luke reached over to squeeze Alex’s hand, and then he poofed away. Alex could already see Ray jump as Luke poofed into his usual seat next to Reggie and Julie, and Carlos’s eyes light up at the sight. They’d have the gluten-free-paleo-whatever tía Victoria had brought over for the week and Julie would absentmindedly pass him the salt to season his food. They’d say grace, and Ray would say thanks for the wonderful five kids in his house, something that had thrown Alex off the first time he had heard it but was grateful for each time. Afterwards, Carlos would show them some of those ghost hunting shows he liked to watch on you-tune or whatever - maybe Willie could even come by, if he was free, and they’d all circle around the screen and laugh as one of the guys fell over himself with every random noise. Julie would video call tía Victoria, who’d fawn over her niece and nephew and ask about the rest of the band, talking about how she had just seen yet another new performance of theirs and had loved it.

Unbidden, an image of his sister and her family popped up in his head. It occurred to him, briefly, that he never got to see Nina and his nephews or nieces, wherever they were. Maybe he’d try again, this time bringing his entire family along. They never made the crushing feeling in his chest go away, but it didn’t feel like it was choking him and they made everything all the more bearable. Maybe he could go visit, he thought, getting up from the floor. Maybe it’d be good for him, maybe it wouldn’t, but they’d face it together and he knew they’d gladly come with him if he asked. Maybe he’d even take another visit to his parent’s house, and try to get closure much like Luke had some time ago.

“Yo,” Carlos said, reappearing at the door and looking around the room. “You coming?” He stared just to the left of Alex (he was getting better at figuring out where the boys were without Julie, Alex had to give him that).

Alex tapped his drum cymbal in response and Carlos grinned. “Oh that’s so cool,” he said. “And perfect, because I’m starving.”

Alex grinned at the younger Molina and followed him out the door, his thoughts of his parents and his sister disappearing into the background. Maybe he’d do it, maybe he wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure yet.

For now, though, he was going to have dinner with his family.

Tagging: @random-nerd-3 @glgrdsklechhh4 @thewickedandthehufflepuff @isnt-that-wizard @ellicxr @kymwitthaus @starryseavey @kristallbluemchen @fanficfighter @mariechensterntaler @iamtiredofmydreams @rubyblaze22 @speedycubed @tyrantlizard-king

#jatp fanfic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #jatp fanfiction #janie writes stuff

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jougogo · 4 years

Text

4 times nishinoya had your back and the 1 time you had his

happy birthday to my first haikyuu crush, the energetic and sweet guardian deity of karasuno, nishinoya yuu!

a/n: i wrote this at 3am this morning so please ignore any mistakes teehee

warnings: not proofread, my crappy writing

word count: 1.9k

1. when you fell off the swings in first grade

you were in first grade. it was your favorite time of the day, recess, and you had giddily run out onto the playground. you immediately ran to your favorite swing; you’ve always adored the feeling of flying in the air. while you were there, you spotted a couple of older girls come up to the swing set as well. one girl swung oh-so-high and performed an impressive flip off the swing. you were in awe. determined to prove that you could be just as cool as the older girls, you pushed yourself and swung as high as you can. the ground looks awfully far from here, you remember thinking. the next thing you know, you had let go of the chains on the side of the seat and was now tumbling through the air, at the mercy of gravity. it was only then that you remembered the sharp wooden chips that line the playground. you closed your eyes shut, ready to brace for impact when you felt your body slam against a soft...person?

“ow. you shouldn’t do that! don’t you know how dangerous it is? if i wasn’t here, you would’ve died! i saved your life!” a squeaky voice blabbered from the boy that you were currently lying on top of.

“huh? thanks, i guess you did save my life! want to be friends?” you put on your best puppy eyes and extended a small hand to the boy. he wasn’t much taller, but he had a comforting, protective aura.

“sure!! I’m nishinoya yuu,” he grinned.

2. when you didn’t have anyone to sit next to at lunch

it was the first day of fifth grade. your best friend had recently moved away, leaving you with nobody to sit with at lunch. noya had grown up; his daredevil mindset, athleticism, and good looks made him popular amongst both boys and girls in your grade. yet there you were, pathetic, friendless, and sitting alone at lunch. burying your face in your lunch box, you felt your face begin to grow warm, and a familiar feeling of something in your throat sneaked up as you tried your hardest to keep the tears from sliding down your cheeks. out of nowhere, a loud metallic noise of something slamming down against the aluminum table interrupted your weeping. you looked up tentatively to find noya and his lunchbox, grinning at you from across the table.

“did you really think i would let you sit alone at lunch?”

3. when you were rejected by your crush

“hahah, y/n has a crush on a third year!” “did you really think an older boy would be into you? how sad!”

it was the tormenting middle school years. somehow, the news that you had sent a letter confessing your crush to the captain of the soccer team had been spread all throughout the school. you could hear the snickers and whispers as you walked through the hallway. he was so attractive, and you were convinced that he even flirted with you a couple times when you watched his practice. but when he came storming up to you with a threatening gaze and all his friends trailing behind him sneering at you, you were terrified and ran to the girl’s bathroom. how did this all even happen? you didn’t dare to come out from the stall until you heard a familiar voice calling to you from outside the bathroom door.

“y/n! please hurry and come outside, i’m not supposed to be in here and if they catch me i’d be dead meat.” noya pleaded.

“they all hate me,” you mumbled.

“no they don’t! please. I just want to talk to you, i’m your best friend! c’mon,” he begged. reluctantly, you picked up your bag and stepped out of the small, depressing stall. noya’s usually bright demeanor had been replaced with one of concern and oddly, determination. he pulled you into a storage closet, and shut the door quietly. “listen, y/n, what that guy did to you was messed up. he’s probably just insecure, and he definitely doesn’t deserve someone like you. you are so special, and loved, and absolutely adored , and i will fight anyone who says otherwise.” he declared confidently.

“but what if i never find my soulmate? i don’t know if i deserve to be loved,” you spoke softly.

“then i’ll be your prince charming,” was the last thing he said before he pressed his soft lips against yours.

4. when he walked you home in the rain

the searing feeling of his lips lingered on your mind. after he kissed you, you couldn’t stop thinking about noya. was he letting you borrow his pencil because he liked you? or was he just genuinely being a nice person? what about when he gave his last quarter for a drink from the vending machine? when he asked you to help him study for the upcoming quiz? everything about your friendship became a confusing and blurry mess. regardless, you couldn’t be prouder of your best friend. nishinoya was finally being recognized for his hard work and talent in volleyball, and he had even won the award for best libero. you always went to support him at his games, and today was no exception. his team had fought tenaciously, and everyone was determined to place in the tournament. they were in the final set against kitagawa daiichi when a realization hit you. he had become so good at volleyball, you weren’t sure if this was the same boy who complained about digging drills two years ago. was this talented, attractive, and popular volleyball player really your nishinoya? clearly, he was too good for you. tired of the overbearing negative thoughts from your overthinking, you walked out of the gym only to find that the sky has decided to cry. the droplets pitter and patter against the pavement, and you mentally curse at yourself for not remembering to bring an umbrella. hoping that you could wait out the rain, you sat on the cool metal bench that was outside the gymnasium.

"hey, we won! did you see me save that one ball? it was like WHOOSH! and then KABAM! and i went BOOM! and," nishinoya beamed, but he trailed off when he noticed your mindless stare at the street.”huh? Hey, are you okay? did something happen?” he stammered, trying to think back to all the possible things that could’ve upset you.

“no no no, please dont worry about me, noya-san. enjoy your victory; i’m really happy for you!” you faked a grin. he raised an eyebrow, but decided not to press further.

“come on, i’ll walk you home. we can share my umbrella,” he tugged at your hand, and reluctantly, you went along with him.

the streets of miyagi was busy despite the weather. bikers and pedestrians crammed the sidewalk as everyone tried to get home quickly.

"why does he even like me?” you asked yourself under your breath.

“because you’re there for me. always. we’ll always have each other” he replied nonchalantly. you jumped.

“shoot, did you hear that?” you panicked.

“of course! i answered your question.” he wasn’t even a bit bothered. “even though you’re usually pretty subtle about it, i know you care about me. like when you give up lunch to help me study, or always giving me a bottle of water after waiting for my practice to end.” he looked off to the side, a bit embarrassed. i’m really grateful for the little things you do. and i know that, uh, what happened the other day, i should’ve asked you first. i’m sorry, i wasn’t thinking with my head. if you don’t like me back like that, i totally understand. we can still be friends”

“you were thinking with your heart,” you mumbled. “i don’t know if i’m ready for a relationship yet. i don’t want to risk what we have.”

“ok! that’s fine by me. pinky promise that we’ll be friends forever no matter what?” he held out his hand.

“deal.” you grasped his pinky with yours.

5. when you believed in him in a moment where he didn’t

before anyone could realize, the year had flown by and it was time for everyone to pick a high school. noya ended up choosing to attend karasuno, an old volleyball powerhouse that was near his house. thanks to tedious hours of studying, you were chosen to attend shiratorizawa on a scholarship.

“i’m proud of you. i knew you were smart and you would get in! you have so much potential ahead of you. thank you for spending the past 8 years with me.” he began, but was cut off when you buried your face into the crook of his neck and cried.

“stop, the graduation is already hard enough, don’t make me even sadder,” you sputtered through tears. the private academy had strict rules about phones so contacting any of your friends outside the high school would be a challenge.

after bidding him a tearful goodbye, you didn’t see him again.

that was, until your second year of high school

when you heard that the glorious nishinoya yuu and the reborn powerhouse of karasuno has the chance to play against the elite shiratorizawa academy, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing after all these years.

nishinoya was scanning the stand for your familiar face. “ i wonder how y/n is doing. did she make new friends? does she have someone to sit with at lunch?” he couldn’t help but feel protective of you. after all, you were like a sister to him. soon, the ref blew the whistle that signaled the start of the game. the bright lights, the polished floor, and the enthusiastic cheers were all at the back of his mind. right now, he only has one job: to keep the ball in the air and keep the game going. however, ushijima’s serves proved to live up to its reputation. spike after spike, the foreign spin of the ball combined with the powerful accuracy was a challenge to receive.

noya was exhausted, in pain, and mentally beating himself up. he had one job, and as the libero, if he can’t even receive a serve, what is he doing? he felt like he was letting the team down, and a familiar feeling of guilt began to weigh heavily in his heart.

that’s when he saw you in the karasuno stands, holding up a poster with his face on it and the words “thank you for having our back” drawn in bold letters. you had the biggest smile, and was waving excitedly. you didn’t care if you were betraying your school; you were so grateful for all the times he was there for you, and you owed him at least this. you had spent all night making the poster, carefully coloring in every letter with the utmost precision. this was your way of saying “i believe in you. go be that talented, amazing person you are.”

that’s when he decided that no matter what comes his way, he’ll dig up every spike, save every ball, and win every game for you. because nishinoya yuu won’t let you down.

#nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya fluff #hq nishinoya #haikyuu!!#nishinoya yuu #yū nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #happy birthday noya #idk how tags work someone help me LMAO

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mikkomacko · 4 years

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Dear Daisy 1

The first time Daisy met Harry, she was seven. Her father had just started working for Styles' Steel Co. and his boss had invited him over for a dinner. Even at seven she was terrified of Thomas Styles. He was dark and brooding, and had a booming voice that seemed to shake the ground. She doesn't remember much of the dinner, only that Harry's mother, Anne was really kind and his sister Gemma fun to be around. She made Daisy laugh a lot that night, so much so that the adults ended up kicking all the kids out to the back yard to play.

She remembers Thomas had a pool, and it was funny to her because the beach was only a short ways away. Her brother Sterling got on with Harry right away, and they ran around in the grass with a ball while Gemma and Daisy sunk their feet in the pool. Again, Daisy doesn't remember much about what her and Gemma talked about, but she remembers smiling until her cheeks hurt and she was breathless. What she remembers most though, is hearing Harry and Sterling shout behind them, and seeing Gemma turn to look over her shoulder just as someone collided with her back.

She tumbled forward into the deep end of the pool, water rushing up her nose before she could hold her breath and it made her lungs sting. She felt like she was kicking and flailing under the water for hours, heart pounding in her ears before two arms were around her waist. When she reached the surface, Gemma was holding her, treading water and grimacing when Daisy coughed up water and broke into tears.

Gemma got her back to the edge of the pool, helping her up before climbing out herself. The backdoor to the house was open, and Anne and her mother Meredith came rushing out.

"What happened?" Meredith asked, wiping wet hair out of her face. Daisy had buried her face in her mother's side, holding her tight as she sobbed.

"Harry pushed Daisy in the pool." Sterling said over her cries, and while Daisy doesn't remember if Harry ever got in trouble for it or tried to defend himself, she does remember deciding that she officially hates Harry Styles.

Daisy tied the fabric in her hair into a bow, wishing she had red lipstick to paint on her pale lips. Tonight she's attending a dinner with her father's business associates, and he told her to doll up because he really needs to impress them tonight. She put on her prettiest red dress, long socks and heels, and curled her hair with rollers borrowed from her mother. Typically she'd apply the lipstick that matches the dress to her lips, but she ran out of it weeks ago after she'd gone on a date with the neighbor boy. She wishes she hadn't worn any that night, because it turned out he wasn't worth her or her best lipstick. And now that she needed it most, she didn't have it. The bow will just have to do, she thinks glummy, looking over herself in the mirror.

Her father hardly made her go to these dinners ever since the first one she'd been to. After almost drowning in Thomas' pool, Daisy refused to return to his house, and for some unknown reason, so did Sterling. He refused to see Harry Styles, he said heatedly. Daisy thought it sweet of him to be upset about what Harry did to her, and in return for their stubbornness, Daisy and Sterling got to stay with the neighbors on dinner nights. When Kitty was born, it was easier to leave her at home as well, with the older two siblings to babysit. Which was why it was such a big deal that William requested the whole family go out tonight. She knew it had to be important, so she didn't argue even though she was completely nervous about having to see Harry again.

Typically she only sees him around town, sometimes he'll make small talk with Sterling, but they both give each other these disgusted looks when walking away and pretend they didn't see the other do the same. It's quite amusing, even if Harry usually takes the time to critique something about her before going on his way. Usually it's small little comments about her clothes or lipstick, claiming her skirt is too short and her lips to bright. "You'll give some bastard the wrong idea," he'd say, carelessly looking over her outfit, "and you'll never impress anyone respectable."

Daisy fought against the urge to respond. She always desperately wanted to ask him if even knew what a respectable man looked like, and give him that same cold look he always gives her, but she doesn't. Because she was taught better than that. She doesn't like to be rude, even if Harry did almost kill her and is the reason she can't step foot near a pool or the ocean anymore. He doesn't deserve your words, she'd always remind herself.

As mean as Harry is, he's nothing compared to his uncle. Thomas Styles has the coldest personality out of them all. It's fitting that he owns a steel company, since he's practically made of it. She was right to be afraid of him when she little, because he's the most disrespectful man she's ever seen. He once yelled at her and her friend Summer when they were twelve and had gone to the park down the road to play. It had started raining, so they tried to hurry home but got distracted by a few puddles. Summer was in the middle of splashing in a particularly muddy one when his car had pulled over on the side of the road, window rolling down and screaming at them for acting like street rats. That was the day Daisy decided she hated Thomas Styles too.

Tonight's dinner isn't at Thomas' house, much to Daisy's relief. She'd hate to be around that pool again, and she hate for Kitty to be around it too. Not that she thinks Harry would push a 6 year old into the pool now that he's reaching 24, but one can never be too sure.

William told them the house was close enough to walk, so they all huddled together down the sidewalk until they reached Aster lane. This is the road that all the wealthy people live on, four blocks away from the poor street Daisy lives on, and two blocks away from the street Thomas lives on. The further north, the wealthier the houses, meaning whoever lived on this street, has quite a comfortable life.

The house they approach has a small front yard, mostly taken up by hydrangea plants and a short driveway leading to a closed garage. The front porch is large, but bare of any patio furniture which Daisy finds odd. Why have a beautiful porch if you don't use it?

William knocks on the big green door, looking over his shoulder at Sterling with wide eyes. He nods his head just once, and then Sterling is in front of Daisy, straightening the sleeves of her dress with a nervous smile. "No lipstick?" Sterling asks, pinching her cheeks to make them redder and she swats his hands down.

"I ran out after my date with Jonah," Daisy pouts, "if you can even call that a date."

Jonah is the neighbor boy that had asked Daisy to dinner about two weeks ago. He was cute and shy about it, and Daisy thought it might be fun. It turned out to be a disaster. Jonah had stepped on the edge of her skirt and tore it, and he'd bought her a bouquet of daisies which she's ironically allergic to. They ended up having to rush her home for medicine before even getting a chance to eat dinner, and then Jonah had been rude to her the next day for not telling him that she was allergic to the flower she was named after.

"Oh well," Sterling says, just as the door is pulled open. Thomas is the one to greet them, shaking William and Sterling's hands. He then kisses Meredith's cheek, and the back of Kitty's little hand before moving to Daisy. His lips purse under his thick mustache, and his dark eyes look over her as if measuring her up for size.

"Good evening Mr. Styles," Daisy says pleasantly, smiling, "it's wonderful to see you again." It really isn't wonderful to see him, but she'll lie for the sake of her father's reputation. Finally, Thomas nods and then he kisses her cheek as well, his mustache scratching her cheekbone.

Anne was the next to greet her, hugging her tightly and telling her how much she's grown. She even cups Daisy's face, looking over her features with teary eyes and Daisy's stomach twist with unease. Why are they all looking at her differently?

Gemma isn't at this dinner, much to Daisy's disappointment, but Harry is. He stands against the archway that separates the dining room and what must be the living room. His face is hidden in the shadows, but she can feel his eyes and scowl on her. He doesn't move until William calls out to him delightedly, and then he's stepping forward to shake hands with her father. William's very enthusiastic about greeting Harry, and Sterling leans into Harry's ear to whisper something when saying hello, and again Daisy wonders why they're acting so strange. Her mother coos over Harry the same way Anne cooed over her, and even Kitty is excited to meet Harry. She giggles when Harry crouches down to kiss her cheek, and he mumbles something to her that turns her cheeks red.

When Daisy comes up to him, she thinks she'd rather be standing chest deep in open water than having to hug him. He pecks her cheek the same way he has kissed her mother's, the action making her heart jump into her throat and her face grow hot.

"Daisy," he greets simply.

"Hello Harry," she mumbles, avoiding his eyes as she moves to sit at the table. Harry ends up across from her, and she can feel him looking at her but she refuses to meet his gaze. William and Thomas chat about a new deal in the works, and Anne asks Sterling about his girlfriend Stella, receiving a few extra comments from Meredith. Both Harry and Daisy are quiet, and her neck hurts from looking down at her lap and plate all night. She wonders if Harry's tired of looking at her, but he has too much fun making her uncomfortable to stop. She doesn't look up until her father is clearing his throat.

"We have some news to celebrate tonight," his chair scrapes as he stands up, and Daisy turns her head to look at him. Thomas is smiling proudly at Harry, and Sterling has fallen quiet, jaw clenched. "Thomas and I have talked, and we've decided that it's for the best for both our families if Daisy were to marry Harry."

Only Daisy makes a sound, something between a gasp and a choke, and she realizes that they've all known about this. They've been acting so different, because they were realizing that this is the first dinner they'll have as a new family. Her chest aches, stomach suddenly twisting with nausea. How could they blindside her like this? They know how she feels about Harry, especially her mother, and yet they still agreed to this. They're sending her away with Harry because he's got money, more money than her family will ever earn.

She can feel them all looking at her, gazes burning into her skin. She doesn't know what to say, because she honestly just feels like screaming. She however, cannot do that in front of Thomas or even Harry, because she'd never hear the end of it, so she just gapes at her father.

"He should consider himself lucky then." Sterling says, as if warning Harry to object. She turns her gaze to her brother, swallowing the lump in her throat and willing the stinging in her eyes to go away. He nods at her thankful smile, looking at Harry. "You're getting the best girl you could ever ask for."

Harry clears his throat, and she feels him look at her again. "Yeah, could be worse I suppose." Harry mumbles, not sounding particularly pleased with the situation either. She wonders if he knew, if that's why he was brooding in the corner when they first arrived.

"Shall we raise our glasses?" Thomas suggests, and they all rise from their chairs, holding their drinks. Her hand trembles as she lifts hers, and she's glad she drank it down some otherwise it'd be spilling over the side.

"To Harry and Daisy," Thomas beams, "by this time tomorrow, this'll be your new home." Everyone repeats their names, clinking glasses in the middle of the table and then taking a sip. Daisy gulps down her water, hoping it'll keep her from being sick. She doesn't see Harry's reaction, or if he swallowed all his wine because she's quickly excusing herself, taking off though the closest exit.

Tears burn at her eyes, choking in her throat as she rushes down the dark hallway. A table with an empty vase sits at the end of it, with an empty frame hanging above. She passes an empty bathroom on the left, but it still feels too close to the dining room so she keeps going. Two doors come up on the right, and she reaches for the knob only to find it locked.

"No," she quietly whimpers, jingling the the knob as if that'll open it. It doesn't work, and Daisy thumps her forehead against the door, squeezing her eyes shut. She's too busy willing away her sobs to hear someone coming down the hallway.

"S'not gonna open by magic." Harry mutters behind her, her heart jumping into her throat and she leaps away from the door. Harry doesn't look at her as he digs a key out of the pocket of his grey trousers, quickly unlocking and opening the door. He enters the room, leaving the door open for Daisy. She doesn't know what makes her follow him, but she does, closing the door behind her. Maybe he'll be sympathetic, she hopes, since he's in the same boat with her. She has a feeling she's fooling herself.

The room is dim and musty, dust particles floating in the stale air as Harry leans his hips back against the desk placed in the center of the room. Her throat itches at the first inhale of old oxygen, Daisy quietly clearing her throat to get rid of it. One look around the room reveals that it's hardly used, dirt on every surface including the dark curtains that block out the sunlight. She stands a little taller, priding herself on her ability to keep her home clean. She may not have as much money or food as Harry, but at least her house is never covered in dirt and dust bunnies.

Chin up, she accidentally meets his gaze and the harshness of it immediately has her chin falling. It bothers her how cute he'd look in his brown suspenders and grey newsboy cap if he'd just smile. Not even a full toothy smile, just a little quirk of his full lips would suffice.

"Why didn't you argue with him?"

Harry's voice cuts through the dust like sun beams, basking her in a heat that burns her chest and brain. She wishes it were as welcoming as the sun after darkness. Instead it's like being welcomed to the first realm of hell.

She can't hold his gaze. Maybe it's the way they pierce through the shadows, scrutinizing her every move. Or maybe it's because she still finds him handsome, no matter how harsh he is with her.

"Your father? I know you wanted to say something. Always have something to say."

His words stir a reaction out of her, brow furrowing. "Not always." She insists quietly, a little offended that he thinks he knows anything about her. His lips perk up into a smirk, one that has her stomach fluttering despite how amused he looks. He's mocking her, and she is foolish.

"Not what I heard."

Daisy scoffs, arms tightening around her chest. "Yeah? From who? Sterling?"

Harry copies her movement, arms crossing over his chest. She tries to ignore the way his arms stretch his white shirt. He shrugs, still amused with her. "Doesn't matter, does it? All that matters if it's true or not."

"Why?"

Harry drops his arms, using them to push himself off of the desk. His leather shoes drag on the floor as he stalks towards her, eyes twinkling mischievously. He stops in front of her, close enough that she can smell his sticky cologne and feel his breath on her face. She steps back, wondering how he's managed to afford cologne when she's been out of perfume for months. He follows her, leaning down so his lips are only a couple inches from hers.

"I have some thoughts on marrying a girl that can't keep her mouth shut."

His words sting her ears and behind her eyes, burning uncomfortably in her chest. She refuses to let him see the water in his eyes, instead dropping her gaze to his chest. Swallowing thickly, she takes another step back. "I want to go home now." She whispers, not waiting for him to respond. She turns on her heel, feet silent as she crosses the room to the door.

"Daisy," Harry huffs after her, and she hears his footsteps following. She turns the knob, pulling it open and stepping into the hallway. She tries to hurry back to the living room without actually running but Harry's long legs beat her, his hand locking on her wrist. She tugs away, not quite strong enough to remove his grip, turning to face him long enough to spit out, "I don't really want to marry you either!"

It's harsh, the harshest she's ever spoken to him and it leaves him stunned enough for her to pull away from him again. He doesn't chase her, no, he just drags his feet behind her. Daisy feels a bit guilty for snapping at him, no matter how often he does it to her, but the thought vanishes at the sight of her family in the dining room. Tonight's her last night with them and her last night without Harry.

She doesn't take much with her, not that she needs to. Harry's got everything she could ever need at his house, everything except her clothes. Her few dresses and skirts are packed into her suitcase, her blouses, undergarments, and nightgowns in the one Harry brought over because it's far bigger than hers, and her shoulder bag holds personal objects such as photographs of her family and a jewelry box containing her few possessions.

It's silly for her to be sad, she knew she couldn't live with her parents forever, but she had hoped that the day she'd be leaving would be with a man she loves. Or is at least comfortable to be around.

Despite her silence and set jaw, Harry offers her a teeny smile, more awkward than comforting, and grabs her suitcases in his hands. She throws her bag over her shoulder, heart shuddering painfully as she closes the door to her bedroom and follows Harry down the stairs. Kitty is waiting for him at the bottom, peeking around the banister with that shy smile she gets when Harry's around, and Daisy imagines Harry gives her a smile back because she giggles and runs towards the kitchen where they're mother is.

Sterling has already left for work, as has her father, and Daisy refuses to say goodbye to Summer because that's just not something they do, leaving just Kitty and Meredith to say goodbye too. She leaves Harry in the living room, dragging her feet into the other room where Meredith is waiting with a sad smile.

"All ready dear?" She asks, and Daisy does her best to nod, despite the fact that she feels sick to her stomach. Meredith opens her arms for her, and Daisy happily steps into them, burrowing in her mother's shoulder and wishing she were still as tiny as Kitty. She doesn't mean to, but she ends up crying into her mother's blouse.

"You're going to be fine Daisy," Meredith soothes, rubbing her back. "he'll take care of you."

"I'd rather starve here than live with him forever mother." Daisy cries, not caring if Harry hears or not.

"I'll live with Harry," Kitty offers weakly, pawing at Daisy's legs. "so you can stay. Harry can take care of me."

Despite her tears, Daisy giggles and pulls back to look at her baby sister. Kitty's got clumps of tears in her eyelashes, pouting up at Daisy. "That's awful sweet," she croaks, wiping her own tears away. "but I don't think Harry could hold you the way mother does when you're scared."

Kitty's eyes widen in fear, immediately taking back her sentiment. "I have to stay with mumma, sorry Daisy."

She sighs, leaning down to kiss Kitty's forehead. "I'll see you soon bug." She murmurs, straightening to her normal height. Meredith gives her an encouraging nod, walking her back to the living room where Harry's leaning against the back of the couch, suitcases at his feet and arms over his chest. He picks them back up when he sees the girls return, nodding politely to Meredith.

"Take care of her please, Harry." Meredith begs, and Daisy distracts herself with opening the front door so she doesn't have to look at him.

"I will." Harry says firmly.

"That's what he's paying for, isn't it?" Daisy says bitterly, ignoring the way her mother glares at her.

"Didn't pay for you," Harry says shortly, stepping around her and out the door. He mutters something under his breath that she's glad she didn't hear because it would probably just hurt her feelings anyway. With one last pleading look towards her mother, Daisy steps out of her home and follows Harry down the sidewalk to his car. He's already loaded her suitcases in the backseat, making her shoulders sag because she was planning on sitting back there.

"Wanna get home before dark, if you don't mind." Harry says loudly, and she realizes he's holding open the passenger door for her, tapping his leather boot impatiently. Daisy climbs into the car, looking at her house sadly as Harry gets in and starts the car. He drives away, and Daisy wishes her mother had come running out at the last second, demanding Harry let her stay. She doesn't though, and Daisy suddenly feels like she could die right then and there.

Despite being fiance's, Daisy refused to share a room with Harry. She had expected to fight him on it, thinking he'd immediately take her things to his bedroom and instruct her to unpack. Instead, they pulled up to his garage, and he shut off the car, tossing his keys in her lap.

"S'the gold key. Go pick a room, just not the one on the right of mine."

Daisy didn't have to be told twice, and almost too eagerly she jumped out of the car, dashing to the door and unlocking it. She was in this house just last night, so she doesn't bother looking around the area before tossing his keys on the table and heading to the room she's been thinking of all day. Harry's room is upstairs, so she heads down the hall that took her to the dusty office. She recalls seeing another door down here, and she really hopes it's a bedroom.

She can hear Harry coming into the house, dropping her suitcases to the floor and shutting the door. She stays quiet, listening to him climb the stairs, before turning the knob to the door opposite the office. It creaks as she pushes it open, and just like the other room over here, she's hit in the face with the overwhelming smell of mothballs. The room's in great need of a dusting, but other than that it's perfect.

A big window sits on the furthest wall, overlooking the grassy back yard. A large, unmade bed is pushed up against the wall opposite it, and a big white dresser across from the closet, with a matching nightstand next to the bed. The floor is the same dark wood that covers the rest of the house, but for some reason it looks better in here. Daisy bites back a grin, walking to the window and pushing the dusty curtain back. Sunlight filters into the room, warm on her skin and she closes her eyes, enjoying it for a moment. The sun never shined in her old room.

"You want this one?"

Harry's voice startles her, making her jump and whip around to face him. He's leaning against the door frame, arms over her chest and looking around the room with contempt. She smiles at that, nodding proudly.

"Gets kinda cold over here, but s'your loss I suppose." He pushes himself off the door frame with a shrug. "M'not paying the hospital bill when you're toes goes frost bite."

Daisy knows he's exaggerating, it wasn't cold over here last night, and even if it were she'd stay. Based on the displeased look he gave the room, she hopes it'll keep him away from her. He disappears down the hallway, and she turns back around to pry open the window and let fresh air in.

She peels the mattress cover off the bed, balling up the dirty fabric and tossing it towards the door. She sits on the corner of the bed, dropping her bag to the mattress as Harry comes in with her bags. He stumbles on the bed cover, and Daisy giggles when he curses, "bloody fucking Christ."

He sets her bags on the bed next to her, narrowing his eyes at her as he runs his fingers through the short curls on his head. "Let's run to town so ya can pick out bedding and whatnot."

Daisy has no chance to decline the offer or even ask to go later before he's scooping up the dusty fabric on the floor and leaving the room. With one last look around her room, Daisy follows.

Daisy is not the only person that dislikes Harry. In fact, she thinks the whole town might have some sort of problem with him. At the fabric store where she picks out pale yellow sheets and a multicolored quilt with matching pillows, Harry's stared at. At first, Daisy thinks it might just be his looks. He's awful tall, and his shoulders are almost too broad, and he definitely doesn't look like he should be in this store. It's not until they go to pay and Harry's fishing out his wallet, that she realizes it's not his looks.

"You're paying for this?" The man behind the counter asks, taking Harry's bills with a dubious look on his face and recounting them.

"Is that a problem?" Harry huffs.

The man opens the register, counting out his change. "Not at all," he says, not bothering to smile when he hands Harry his coins. "just a surprise. I didn't know your lot knows how to be generous."

Harry offers no rebuttal, instead grabbing the paper bag off the counter and heading towards the door. The man eyes Daisy with confusion, no doubt wondering what she's doing in town with Harry. She steps towards the door, hesitating when the man's words echo on her head. The Styles aren't nice, but they're not selfish either.

"That was very rude of you." Daisy says firmly. "And he may not care, but I do. You've offended me greatly."

The man blinks in surprise, mouth opening to respond but Daisy turns and leaves the store. Harry's holding the door for her, and once it's shut he turns to her. "What did ya tell him?"

"That he's rude."

They start walking down the street, Daisy refusing to look at Harry. He's quite for a moment, before finally mumbling, "thank you." The cleaning supplies store comes into view, and she starts walking a little faster.

"It's nothing. Every big mouth wife would do that, right?"

Harry doesn't say anything else, but she thinks his lips twitch like he's fighting a smile.

It didn't take long to clean the room. Harry bought a really nice dusting cleaner that she had never heard of before. She used it to wipe down the windowsill and furniture, and halfway through Harry came in with a broom and a mop. He didn't say anything and neither did she as they silent worked around each other to make the room comfortable.

The dust went away, and the mothball smell faded into the fresh summer breeze and the smell of cleaner. By the time Harry finishes the floor, and Daisy has dusted and made the bed, their stomachs are grumbling.

"I can warm leftovers," Harry says, lifting up the dirty bucket of mop water. He's rolled up the sleeves of his button up, and she can see the way his forearms tighten as he hauls the bucket up. He's got his usual leather suspenders on, holding up his light brown trousers. Daisy can't help but notice that they're tight on his thighs and bum, but hang loosely around his lanky legs.

"That's fine," Daisy mumbles, face heating up. She's never genuinely looked at Harry as more than the boy that shoved her in the pool, not even last night when she was told she'd be marrying Harry. But now, she can't help but realize that he's more handsome than he originally thought. In another world, one in which maybe they liked each other and Harry knew how to treat people, she'd be lucky to say she's marrying him.

She waits for him to leave the room before unpacking her bags. She lays the photographs of her family on the dresser next to the candle Harry bought for her, and then sets up her jewelry box next to it. She unpacks her clothing into the drawers, hanging her skirts and blouses in the big closet. She's struggling to put up her new curtains when Harry returns.

She's tip-toeing to try and place the rod back up when he reaches over her shoulder and takes it from her. "Go eat your food," Harry commands, stepping to the side so she can walk to the bed. Daisy doesn't argue, mostly because Harry's voice has got a rough edge to it that she doesn't particularly like, but also because she knows she could never reach up there.

A plate of food with a fork sit on the nightstand, and she sits in the middle of the big bed to eat and watch Harry. She wishes his personality matched his looks. She thinks his pink lips were meant to say sweet words, and his jade eyes were meant to look over the world with a gleam in them. He could be a perfect husband, if he cared enough, Daisy thinks sadly, and when he turns to look at her as if checking to make sure she's eating, she thinks he could be a perfect father too. And if he's not, there's not much she can do about it anyway.

#harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #soldier harry #ww2 Harry #dear Daisy #alternate universe #harry styles au

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missnight0wl · 4 years

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Do you place any of the time limited side quests at a different year from the game? For example, i think it makes sense for the Howling Halloween sq to be set after the sq with the forgetfulness potion in year 3 rather than year 1. The first Christmas sq also takes place in year 1, even though MC wouldn’t know Bill at that point. The patronus sq makes a reference to Mc being a legimellion even though they wouldn’t find that out till later.

I kind of stopped trying to fit all the TLSQs into my story at some point, but I still can’t help wondering where they belong into the canon story. And yeah, probably most of them don’t make sense where they’re placed by the devs (or at least would make more sense somewhere else). Now, I’ll try to keep it short, but I’m gonna comment on pretty much every TLSQ, so… beware.

YEAR 1:

Hagrid’s Birthday. It should’ve been at least Y2. Merula comments at one point that Dumbledore probably wants to give MC 100 House points (which really makes sense only after we got points at the end of Y1), and MC’s bond with Hagrid was much closer in Y2, so they’d indeed be the right person to throw his birthday. Especially that Hagrid canonically was born on December 6th, so in Y1, MC knew him only for three months.

Howling Hallowe’en. All right, so I personally HATE this TLSQ because MC duelling Greyback is stupid no matter their age. But if it has to exist, then as you said, it should’ve happened after “Penny For Your Thoughts”, so not before Y3. I believe Scarlett was supposed to die between Y2 and Y3, so before that, it doesn’t make sense that Penny’s fear of werewolves is so great. It also takes away from the relationship between Penny and Chiara (if Penny didn’t experience the death of her friend, it’s not that meaningful that she overcomes her prejudice for Chiara).

Christmas at Hogwarts. It CAN’T happen before Y2. When Rowan mentions Bill for the first time, MC doesn’t even know who he is. How would it make sense if they spent Christmas together a year earlier? Personally, I think it should be Y3 when MC’s friendship with both Bill and Tonks was closer already.

YEAR 2:

The Weird Sisters. This one should probably be Y4, even if only because of the Sisters’ age. Myron is supposed to be one year older than Bill, meaning that in MC’s Y4, Myron was in his last year. Orsino is supposed to be the same age as Percy, so at the same time he was in his second year – a bit young to be on the band, but possible (more likely than in his first year if you ask me).

Hosting the Beauxbatons. I guess it could stay in Y2, but MC talks quite a lot about the Cursed Vaults and how great they are at solving mysteries, so I believe that Y3 or even Y4 would make more sense.

Chiara’s TLSQ. It happens a year after the Halloween events, so it should be Y4.

Christmas at the Burrow. Again, since it happens a year after the previous Christmas TLSQ, it should be Y4. It goes well with Charlie coming to Hogwarts to rescue us because he and MC got pretty close in Y4 (working on the Forest Vault and all).

Meet the Malfoys. Lucius came to Hogwarts because the school governors were alarmed by the things going on at school, so it has to be after the Vault of Ice. Although, I’d argue that two vaults are more likely to be a reason for concern, putting the quest in Y4. Also, in MC’s second year, Draco was only five! He looked and acted more like a 7/8-years-old.

YEAR 3:

Become an Animagus. A friendly conversation with both Barnaby and Tulip at the very beginning of the quest suggests Y4.

The Frog Choir. It could stay in Y3 since Tulip acts rather uncertain about her friendship with MC. The problem is that it triggers too early. When I played with my second MC a while ago, I’m pretty sure it triggered even before I learnt from Tulip that she worked with Merula.

Flying Solo. It should be Y5 (I imagine that becoming an Animagus would take at least all Y4). There’s the whole conversation where Talbott talks about Rakepick’s white owl. In Y3, Merula thinks she’s about to meet Snape, but then, the mention of school owls doesn’t really make sense – it was definitely written with Rakepick in mind, so I just don’t understand why they placed it in Y3.

YEAR 4:

Become a Prefect. No complaints here.

Magical Creatures Everywhere. As far as I remember, there was nothing that wouldn’t really fit here, so I guess we’re also clear.

Celestial Ball. It’s a bit odd to have a ball when there’s the Sleepwalking Curse at school, but… sure, we can go with this.

Grand Pranksters. Yeah, I believe it all works here again. Tonks and Tulip are pretty close friends already, Rita returned like a couple of months after her second SQ (when we blackmailed her about being an unregistered Animagus). Even Ismelda’s part is okay since she was also one of the optional people to borrow a broom from.

The Patronus TLSQ. It probably should be Y5. The Legilimency scene you mention doesn’t happen if you do the quest in Y4, but the fact that it exists (and it’s quite developed) suggests that the quest was written with Y5 in mind. Again, I don’t understand why it was placed earlier.

First Date. I mean… sure.

YEAR 5:

Sir Cadogan. It definitely belongs to Y5 since it talks about Beatrice being trapped in the portrait. However, similar to the Frog Choir, it triggers too early. I believe it triggers in chapter 6 now. It’d make more sense after our fight in the Library (to remind MC how important it is to work with their friends) and after we found Scabbers in front of the Vault of Ice – so around chapter 14. In the TLSQ, Rakepick revived the Ice Knight, so MC shouldn’t have been that surprised seeing the cursed ice around the castle in the main story. Also, when they searched the Icy Corridor with Jae, it sure sounded like they weren’t there since Y2.

O.W.L.s. No complaints here.

Valentine’s Day. NOPE! Just nope. There’s no way Penny would care about stupid Valentine’s Day while Beatrice was trapped in the portrait. Similar goes to MC who was worried about both Haywood sisters AND they were anxious about finding Jacob in the next vault. Moreover, THERE’S NO WAY Rakepick would allow Lockhart to waste the time of her apprentices. I don’t know where else it fits better, but quite frankly, I don’t care.

The All-Wizards Tournament. I mean, I’m not mad about it being in Y5, but I actually like it better when I think that Hagrid and Kettleburn organised it to distract everyone after Rowan’s death. I’d say it’s more meaningful in Y6.

Festival Fun. Very similar arguments as for the First Date. Although, I suppose it could’ve happened on its own in Y5, just without the dating element.

YEAR 6:

The Dragon Sanctuary. Honestly, it’d probably make more sense as the summer holidays event or even post-graduation, but I guess Y6 is not bad.

The Headkid. Yep, makes sense.

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #jam city #analysis post #ask #anonymous

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #396

“every time i leave, you say you won’t be there, & you’re always there”

So, is it gif with a hard G or soft G? I used to say "jif," but now I pronounce it as "gif." If you use libraries, what is the largest overdue fine you’ve ever had? *shrug* Do you ever borrow things other than books from the library? I remember back in the day, they used to offer educational computer games, and I bought a dinosaur one as a kid that I was madly obsessed with. Are there still any movie rental places left where you live? Just Redbox things outside of some stores. Do you ever buy secondhand books (or DVDs, video games, CDs)? Yeah; Ebay is my friend. Or do you prefer them to be brand new? I mean yeah, but it's not a massive deal to me so long the thing is operational or not falling apart. Do you ever write fanfic? Of what? Nah. Do you ever READ fanfic? Of what? Also nah. Do you have a favorite classical composer? No. Have you ever had multicolored/rainbow hair? No, but I would LOVE to. What kind of hats, if any, do you like to wear? I don't wear hats. What is your #1 deal-breaker with friendships? If you're manipulative, byyyyyeeeee~ Who is your favorite character on Bob’s Burgers and why? (If you watch it) I've seen some episodes, but I don't actually watch it. Have you ever had a retro celebrity crush? Like a crush on an “old” celebrity who was most famous a long time ago or is long dead? Audrey Hepburn, for one, is drop-dead GORGEOUS. When you buy/receive new clothes, do you instantly wear them or wash first? It depends on what I bought and where it's from. What’s the weirdest item you’ve seen for sale on Ebay? Idk. Are parents to blame for what their kids do on the Internet? No; kids make their own choices. I do, however, believe the parents should monitor what they do until they reach a certain degree of maturity, as well as the child's history with what they've done on the Internet. Do you use acronyms to remember things? Sometimes. Do you take pills like Tylenol for the littlest aches and pains? No. Only if I'm really in pain will I take Ibuprofen/Advil. Don’t you think Crocs are ugly? Big time. I don't know why they're in vogue now when they used to be so widely hated. When was the last time you went roller skating? Oh, it's been years. Who was your favorite Ninja Turtle? I was never into the franchise. Horror flicks make you: laugh, scream, or squirm? I prefer the ones that make you uneasy. I'm not a big fan of the nasty ones, and I want to feel on edge when I'm watching a horror film, but it's EXTREMELY rare I become legitimately scared. If you could become a doctor, what would you specialize in? Uhhhh. Maybe genetic disorders. What’s the cutest thing a little kid has ever said to/in front of you? I'm sure it was something my niece or nephew said, but I'm unsure of what. They've said many adorable things. Did any characters from TV shows scare you as a kid? Which one(s)? FUCKING KING RAMSES FROM COURAGE THE COWARDLY DOG. FUCK he gave me nightmares. What’s the saddest thing you’ve heard on the news recently? I was very saddened to hear about the giraffe that died giving birth. Do you believe that acupuncture works? I'm not educated enough on this subject. Have you ever been hypnotized? No, and I don't believe it's possible to be. What’s the first food you can smell when you enter the mall? The soft pretzels, omg. That little stand is my favorite part of our local mall. They make DELICIOUS pretzels. What is the worst hurt you’ve ever experienced? Jason leaving. Are huge muscles gross or sexy? Like serious body builders, it's gross to me. I prefer a natural musculature. Have you ever fished and caught something weird? I know I have, but what isn't coming to mind. Do you use an umbrella when it rains? Unless it is absolutely pouring, no. Do you like getting caught in the rain? No. What is the hardest part of cleaning for you? It requires physical exertion and I am INCREDIBLY weak with non-existent stamina. Do you have any fake flowers in your room? No. Do you own any succulents? No. What is your favorite thing about spring? The only thing I like about spring are all the flowers. What is something you find hard to draw? HANDS. UGH. Was it sunny for your senior prom pictures? Sigh. It was a beautiful sunset. I REALLY wish I didn't delete all those pictures from existence. Have you ever seen a double rainbow? I've seen like, a triple rainbow. What’s one thing you want to learn how to make? Your ordinary meals. I really want to be able to cook my own food from scratch. Do you have stomach issues? Maybe TMI, but it's been questioned but not fully examined that I may have IBS. My stomach is very sensitive. When was the last time you apologized and didn’t mean it? I'm not sure. Do you prefer to be the “talker” or the “listener” in a conversation? The listener. What’s a movie that you think everyone should see? Johnny Got His Gun. If you could have any hair color, what color would you want? Either pastel pink or light creamsicle orange. When was the last time you saw your “first love”? February of 2017. Who’s the smartest person you know personally? My best guy friend Girt. What makes them so smart? He's just very intelligent. Book-smart. Are there any bands/artists that get you all emotional? Ozzy. He and his music are so important to me. What’s your favourite aunt or uncle’s first name? Robert. Have you ever done a first aid course? No. What time do you generally wake up in the morning? It varies from like, 6:00-8:30ish. If you could have one superpower, what would it be? Definitely shapeshifting. I'd love to be a druid, man. Do you ever make surveys? If so, are they long or short? No, but I combine them because I don't like surveys that are too short by my standards. When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it? Honestly, probably never. I love my current hairstyle, but I most certainly plan on dyeing it maaaany more times. As a child, what was your favorite game to play? I was hooked on the first three Spyro games. I would play 'em over and over. Do any of your siblings have significant others? Do you like them? My older sister is married, and I am NOT a fan of her husband. He's WAY too conservative and bigoted and racist and misogynistic, etc. etc. He's wonderful as a dad, like holy shit he loves his kids, but his beliefs are abhorrent. Dad's daughter is also married, and her husband is awesome. Mom's eldest daughter is also married, and her husband seems cool. My brother has a fiancee that I've never met. Do you believe in the concept of global warming? No fucking shit I do. It's impossible to logically deny, especially as the years go on. When was the last time you took a picture of something? Was it yourself? I took some pictures of this beautiful hydrangea bush outside the TMS office a few days ago. When drinking soda, do you prefer bottles or cans or poured in a glass? Cans, because it stays colder. Do you wear deodorant? Um, yes? If you had a pet pig, what would you name it? Probably something very unoriginal, like Wilbur. Do you like Led Zeppelin? I LOVE "Kashmir." "Stairway to Heaven" was madly important to me, but yeah... I can't listen to it anymore. Like seriously, I haven't in years. Do you like hugs? I do. Have you read the Constitution of the United States of America? Only the Bill of Rights for school. Do you have your own computer or use a family one? I have my own laptop. Do you take out the trash? Sometimes. Is there a calendar in the room you’re in? Outdated meerkat ones. What is your best friend’s name? Sara Jane. :') Have you ever seen a real-life cop chase? Maybe? What is your favorite shape? Circles. Are pigs adorable or dirty? They're precious! And pigs are actually a lot cleaner than people think, if they're not muddy. Anything moldy in your house? Not to my knowledge. Our old house had a serious mold problem, though, which is the primary reason we had to move. Especially with Mom having cancer at the time, she needed to be in the most sterile environment possible. Have you ever been in an earthquake? No. Do you enjoy history? No. Are you watching TV right now? No, but rather GameGrumps on YT. Could you ever be a mortician? True shit, it actually doesn't seem THAT bad. Can you solve a Rubik’s cube? Never seriously tried. How many pets do you have? Just two right now. Are you more close with your mom or dad? My mom. Who is the person that has impacted your life the most? Jason. Or Mom. Have you ever had a pet fish? Yeah. Poor things, they had terrible husbandry. I've learned a hell of a lot from a YouTuber/streamer that is like obsessed with fish about just how misinformed people are on how to take care of various fish. Your goldfish in that little bowl died for a reason, you know. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes. Do you prefer tea or coffee? Both suck. Have you ever vaped? No. How did your parents meet? They were co-workers. What was your first word? "Dada." Have you ever had a kinky dream about a celebrity? ... I mighta lmao. When was the last time you had Nutella? A long time ago. It reeeeaaaally needs to stay out of my house, because I will eat it straight out of the jar. Name someone with a sexy sounding voice. So I don't know where this was, but Mark was once credited in something as "if chocolate had a voice" and I was like YOU FUCKIN BET YOUR SWEET ASS.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''jet city woman'' by queensryche

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duallygirl178 · 3 years

Text

Dearest O'Malley Introduction

Introduction

"My life had started on a conveyer belt at a Chevrolet manufacture in 1967. I was white as a cloud but glossy with shine. It was all at a factory in Arlington Texas united states. There are two Chevrolet factories located in the USA; one in Texas and the other in Bowling Green Kentucky. There is also one in Ingersoll Ontario, Canada and another in South Korea in current use. Usually Chevrolet Malibu cars were made in Hamtramck, Michigan and in Detroit as my ancestry goes back, but I was proudly born and raised in Texas. My mother came from Detroit and my father came from the longhorn state in Texas where the longhorn cattle roamed and nestled and also where the football team played in the kick-off at the stadium. When I was 12 months old, I was weaned, sold, and transported to Farmington New Mexico. There in that town, were some parts that reminded me of Texas...since I was born there that reminded me of my home that Farmington had so I didn't get homesick. I had one sister, and three older brothers that were shipped into different states of America that I never saw again. My lucky brother; Edgar ended up on Route 66, close to my mother's home state and he was living like a king. As again, I was rowdy and wild outside, but kind-hearted inside for a young stud from Texas. I sure didn't have the accent, but I fought like one and if they got fresh with a Texan, they'd better watch out. They were tough and bared no mercy on the sinners making fun of them.

My story had a unique pattern where it starts as fiction-like back-story and plays onto historical events and comes back to fiction again. Now, I know it sounds like an unusual autobiography, but I heard stories that were like that just like Eleanor Roosevelt before she met her husband or like President John F. Kennedy, but with a true story that it just had some parts missing and covered up because it was unbearable to put in the textbooks. it was so classified that even historians took it out so the teachers wouldn't tell their students about what those parts happened that got covered up like the happening where John was invited to an extraterrestrial space craft and the real assassination on him for sharing alien information that wasn't suppose to know. Right now, I'll lay out a summery of what's ahead in my story. First I'll start by coming from an abusive husband that would kick me, then going home to Gladas Kennedy to Joe Popplewell, to be driven around a while by Jan and Randy to bonding with Nathan and to making a match for him by meeting Natalie. There was a lot in my life that happened. I had many moments where I got attention from people in town that I was a nice car and it delighted me to see people interested in legends like myself to be out and rolling, unlike the cars made today that are made out of plastic and look nothing like the original cars like the chargers and the newest Malibu designs. When people passed me by, some of them would laugh, which could only mean one thing; they were blind and had no taste. I didn't usually give a care on the insult and I just drop it and walk away not caring to look into the bother. I did things years ago that I enjoyed and never looked back at because it was long gone that happened in the years, put behind me such as trouble with the law and moon shining in the woods and getting familiarized with marijuana laws in states that allow it like in Colorado. They call it medicine when it can make you high for days. Now, New Mexico was working on getting it legalized because hey, Colorado spreads the word that it can help cure and reduce pain. Durango had a lot of stoners that say they were impressed and why in the world does New Mexico need more tweekers? In the 60s, marijuana was a gateway into serenity rather if you were a hippie or just horsing around. It still was a thing then and will be now. There is a lot of advantages of growing up in the 1960s like dating, diners road racing, moon shining, cruising, groovy television shows that weren't terrible and the swap meets that weren't bad. I even got to see my first movie at the drive in with a female on a date called "American Graffiti" and I kissed in the back while settled in "park" so I could get a far away seat. My eyesight was far sighted and felt comfortable I the back. The love of my life which was a 67 impala treated me out for our second month anniversary of our relationship. I had remembered when I first met her at a random club where I was singing about my life just for her in 1968.

When the 1970s arrived, my friend; Impa went missing, Gonzo; my best friend, went AWOL Texas-ape crazy and we had the cops search the entire woods...nothing was found except Impa's keychain. So they gave up and I never saw Impa again but I wondered what happened to him. I went to my second home and my owner; Gladas drove me around to work, grocery stores, and church. I met some pretty bad and rotten eggs that needed the "Texas-boy treatment" and to be taught a lesson at Gladas's work which I took the honors of beating them up.

Then, I came to my third home in the 1980s where I met Joe and Carol; the grandparents of Nathan in whom I didn't meet Nathan until later right after Gladas stopped driving me. Joe took the charge of caring for me when I needed something. I'd start right up for him. I met Ian, a blue Buick under the carport which was my stall mate. Carol didn't like him, but Carol liked me because I was so big. I also had met Randy and Jan in a reunion and at the time, Jan was carrying a little bundle of joy when she came to see Joe. Unfortunately, I've never been a father because I've never met the right female that wanted ankle biters running around. When 1992 had come, Nathan was born and to get to know each other, Jan and Randy would take Nathan for a ride in me while Nathan was seated in the backseat. Jan thought I was a scary ride, but Randy thought I was pretty cool. Randy and I got along like beans and cornbread. For being borrowed until Jan got a new car, I enjoyed being the only car to be driven. So I was driven once again to work in and to the grocery stores.

When 2014 hit, Nathan was already handing out with girls. There was a basic one named Shay I didn't like her because she didn't appreciate classic cars as much as Nathan or Natalie did. She weighed 240 pounds and it was like carrying a giant boulder. I think she wasn't worth hanging around because she'd ditch Nathan to go hang out with Jerome. I had to do something to keep Nathan supported and so I kept my eyes on him. When shay was out of the picture, I had my picture taken in 2014 at a car show and again in 2015. Seeing the same brunette girl made me realize that she would be perfect for Nathan, but she seemed so shy. A few years later. I parked in the carport again and nowadays I had wished Nathan would open up and meet people like the one they used to in my day. However, it was all online. When Natalie came along, she changed everything in Nathan’s life forever. He didn't used to like watching movies, but now he does. I had never seen him so happy and it was all thanks to me who opened the door to make them a couple

Therefore, here's how my life started out as the way it is

#chevy #novel #writing #creative_writing

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nothingeverlost · 4 years

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A Week in Charleston (2/?)

Fake dating Cablanca.

When he’d mentioned the wedding to Marta he hadn’t planned to invite her. She’d caught him only a few minutes after hanging up from his cousin Chris, and he’d found himself telling her about the unexpected and unwanted offer of a blind date. He didn’t like lying, even to himself, so he had to admit that he was a little curious if she might say anything about him going on a date. It wasn’t a subject they’d broached before. They hadn’t discussed anything that friends wouldn’t, though he hoped the attraction he felt wasn’t one-sided. What he hadn’t expected was her offer to go to the wedding. They couldn’t set him up, could they, if he RSVPed to the wedding with a plus one?

That had been three weeks ago, and between making arrangements and a case that had him in LA for a week he hadn’t had much chance to dwell on what it would be like to take Marta to a wedding. To take Marta anywhere, really. In retrospect he wished he’d managed to take her out to dinner before attending a gathering of his entire family. Certainly it might have at least cleared up the question of his sexuality; he was playing his cards a little too close to the vest if she really had no idea that he was attracted to her. Then again he didn’t want to move too fast; wasn’t sure he should make a move at all. After all there were a dozen good reasons why a relationship between them was probably a terrible idea.

Right now all he needed to think about was the next few hours and making sure his family didn’t completely overwhelm Marta.

“Beau! Finally.” It was no surprise that Savannah was the first to greet them when they’d barely left the parking lot. Savannah was the oldest of his cousins and the first in everything from the moment she was born. The first to ride a bike, go to college, marry (and the first to divorce) and have a child. The first to show up at any party and in any time of trouble.

“Beau?” Marta asked softly just before Savannah reached them.

“Nickname left over from my childhood,” he said with a shrug. No one in the world called him Beau unless they were a member of his family. There had been a time when it was the only name he’d answered to, but that had been a long time ago.

“I like it.” A strand of hair had escaped from her bun and he had the urge to touch it. Fortunately his hands were occupied, and then Savannah was upon them, kissing his cheek and handing off the present he’d brought to one of their younger cousins.

“Marta, meet my cousin Savannah, grandmother to about half the young ‘uns running around here. Sav, this is my friend Marta. This is her first visit to Charleston.” Internally he chided himself for mentioning the grandkids before anything else. Savannah was only a few years older than himself. Had his life been different he too could be a grandfather. It wasn’t exactly something he liked to think about, not when his job often did enough to make him feel old and tired. Not when she was so young and bright and free to do anything she wanted.

“You exaggerate, dear. Only eleven of mine are running around. Hunter hasn’t learned to walk yet. Bonnie’s expecting, though, so this autumn I’ll be up to a baker’s dozen.” Savannah turned her attention to Marta, briefly giving Benoit a glance that said she wasn’t buying ‘friends’ “Come find me later, dear, and I’ll tell you as many stories about Beau as you like. My favorite involves a borrowed motorcycle and an unplanned swim.”

“You’re not the only one with stories, Sav. I could tell Elton and Keith a few things.” The story she threatened was a mild one, and almost thirty-five years old. Savannah didn’t have a malicious bone in her body unless you hurt her family. He wasn’t quite ready for Marta to learn of his foolish teenage flirtations, though.

“I’ll see you later, Marta. And make sure Beau takes you someplace nice while you’re here. Don’t let him drag you to forts or other dreary places.” She offered a smile to Marta and a sharper, more pointed look to her cousin. “We’ll catch up later.”

“She is certainly full of energy,” Marta commented as Savannah moved onto the next family member. The whole exchange had barely taken a minute.

“She’s a born busy body in the most well meaning of ways. When I was seven she found out that the reason I was hungry after school every day was another child relieving me of my lunch money. She was in middle school by then but she showed up before lunch the next day and made it very clear what would happen to Jimmy Lee if the situation continued. He wasn’t stupid enough to test her.” She was a big sister in everything but name. He might be an only child but most of his mama’s family was in Charleston. With six aunts and seven uncles there had been many cousins and family members around. And currently at least a hundred of them were scattered around the park. For the dozenth time he wondered if accepting Marta’s offer was the best idea, but it was too late now. And he couldn’t deny that he liked having his hand at the small of her back. “Let’s go find something to drink before we’re waylaid again.”

“Any chance you’ll tell me the motorcycle story?” Marta teased as they headed for one of the refreshment tables. There were pitchers of sweet tea, lemonade, sangria, and water infused with fruit. Below the table were coolers full of beer and pop.

“Just a warning if you’re going for the tea, sweet tea is not the same thing as sweetened tea. It’s a bit more sugar than you like.” She put less sugar in her coffee than he did, and he didn’t like very much. “And no, there’s not a chance. Let’s just say there’s a reason I have’t ridden a motorcycle since I was fifteen.”

“I rode my bike into a car when I was learning and sprained my wrist. I wouldn’t touch it again for a year, and only learned because Alice did and I couldn’t let her beat me.” Marta opted for a water. He helped himself to a beer. It was ice cold, as it should be on a warm spring afternoon.

“I loved my bike. It was absolute freedom, riding to my cousins’ houses, or down to the creek. I wasn’t very good at sports as a kid but I sure could ride a bike just about anywhere.” And speaking of cousins he could see two of them bearing down on them. “Prepare yourself, darlin’ and remember don’t believe most of what they say and if anyone’s annoying you just let me know.”

#cabalanca #marta cabrera #benoit x marta #marta x benoit #knives out fic

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junie-bugg · 4 years

Text

Prospects and Propriety - Chapter One

Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU

“We’re very similar, you and I.” He turns the leaf over in his palm one last time and then presses it into my hand. His fingertips are warm where the leaf is brittle.

We are, aren’t we? Me, a girl forced to marry by the rules and expectations of society and him, a boy whose freewill was stolen away before he could even walk. We’re both prisoners. Destined to fates we did not choose ourselves. Now I see what was so funny to him.

The two of us: we are absolutely tragic.

Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?

Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting

Author’s Note:

This is a story inspired by my love of Everlark and Jane Austen’s novels. I am in no way an expert on the Regency period and I include fashions/details that are not historically accurate.

The setting is an alternate England-like Panem.

The plot is my own (Gale is not Mr. Darcy people, don’t get it twisted) but does borrow aesthetics and ideas directly from Jane Austen and Suzanne Collins.

The cast of characters is a mix of canon Hunger Games and original characters I’ve created.

I plan on including links to music and ambiance videos I used while writing so feel free to explore those! I typically play nature sounds and music together on my laptop so sorry if you're reading on a phone!

Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)

Nature ambiance(s):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y

Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cc9ofwF-e4

(If you want to listen to this on Spotify it's called 'The Secret Life of Daydreams' from the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack.)

Word Count: 1,727

Chapter One

I run my hands through the tall grasses at my waist. It’s the perfect morning. The crisp air doesn’t quite hold that harsh bite of winter that will soon sweep the countryside in blizzards and ice. Emerald leaves hint at the coming autumn with the slightest tint of yellow along their stems. The sun shines bright through branches and I watch the forest come alive with squirrels and chipmunks that scurry through the thick brush. The dirt path I followed to get here grazes the edge of the woods, but I’ve abandoned it to traipse through the wild-flower dotted hillsides instead.

From this high up, I can see everything. The village of Whitley lies to the west. I can just make out the rooftops of the squat brick buildings off the main square. By this time the merchants will have opened their shops for business. The rest of the countryside is peppered with grand estates and bountiful farmland. Rivers gleam like veins of silver and dirt roads are wreathed in the dust kicked up by horse-drawn carriages. I wish I could stay and sit here all day. I would drink in the sun and drown in the low hum of insects, though Haymitch has warned me of the nasty gossip that follows a lady with a tan and a set of freckles.

A lady. I almost snort. Apparently, that’s what I am. Or what I need to be if anyone is ever going to ask for my hand in marriage. The thought ruins the good mood my morning stroll had put me in. I throw myself down among the tall grasses and begin plucking mindlessly at their stems.

Haymitch Abernathy, the legal guardian of me and my sister, has never been one to force us into doing things we dislike. I’m allowed to ride my horse alone, hunt with a bow and arrow, and take off into the woods whenever I please, like some woodland nymph from one of my father’s old stories. If it wasn’t for Prim and my greenhouse back at home I would probably live out here. Until it got cold of course. I’m allowed more freedom than any other young girl in the county, I’m sure. But not even Haymitch can protect me from matrimony.

My sister is excited for me. I imagine she’s fantasized about her wedding since she knew what a wedding was. To her, marriage is a romantic fairytale. A strong, handsome man of large fortune will sweep her off her feet and give her an estate to run and small, cherub-faced children to care for. To me, marriage sounds like a death sentence. They say if I’m lucky, I’ll marry for love as well as for fortune, but I never want to love someone as much as my mother loved my father. Because when he died, in a way, so did she. The only person I know that I truly love is Prim.

Primrose Everdeen, my little sister, was never the outdoorsy type like me. She’s fair, with golden blonde hair that hangs in ringlets past her slight shoulders, and a face as fresh and as pure as a spring dewdrop. She spends her days drawing, flower arranging, and studying languages with my old tutor Mrs. Winthrop.

“She’ll be a highly accomplished woman by the time I’m done with her. Mark my words, this young girl is special,” Mrs. Winthrop had said to Haymitch mere days after first starting Prim’s lessons. She had been my tutor for years and had never said anything nearly as flattering about me. Sullen Katniss Everdeen must have been a lost cause in her eyes.

I’m four years older than Prim who’s a mere twelve. We share the same parents, though we look almost nothing alike. Where she received the fair skin, blonde curls, and gentle blue eyes of our mother, I received the olive-toned, straight black, and storm grey palette of our father.

I sit up suddenly, aware that I left home hours ago and it must be getting time for my lessons. I dread heading back to that stuffy room where I’m required to sit straight and learn to be “lady-like” under the scrutinizing gaze of Ms. Effie Trinket, my new tutor. Manners are of the utmost importance to her, seeing as she makes her living off of teaching them. She considers being late an unforgivable sin.

With this in mind, I take my time gathering wild-flowers. There are so many at my feet, their delicate white and yellow petals peeking up amongst the grasses. I deftly craft two flower chains. One for me, which I place on the crown of my head, and one for Prim clutched in my hands. I notice some dirt under my nails and smile, wondering what Effie will say when I arrive late and grimy.

She purses her lips and crosses her arms as I enter the room. “Where were you?” She demands in that high pitched voice of hers.

“Out,” I shrug. I hadn’t seen Prim on my way in so I’m still clutching her flower crown. I offer it to Effie instead. “Flowers?” She squints at my offering, probably checking for bugs, before gingerly taking it and placing it down on a side table.

“Katniss, I need you to take today’s lesson seriously.” Her clipped tone sets my teeth on edge.

“I always do-” I start, but Effie cuts me off.

“Don’t lie to me, Katniss. I know you don’t care for etiquette. I know that to you a spoon is just a spoon, even when that spoon is a soup spoon and should only be used for soup!”

Again with the soup spoon thing, it was one time. But she’s right. I find learning manners and etiquette a waste of time. I’ve only been out in society for a short while. I barely attend balls seeing as I’m sixteen and prefer to stay at home anyway. I look up and realize that Effie is still talking at me.

“Are you even listening? Mrs. Winthrop was right, you are hopeless.” She sighs and wipes non-existent dust off of her shimmery lilac skirts. “It is imperative that you start paying attention and make some kind of progress in these lessons. Mr. Gale Hawthorne has recently taken possession of Templeton and is traveling here, as we speak, to take up residence indefinitely. Do you know what this could mean for you?” Suddenly, her annoyance melts away and is replaced by a teary, almost hopeful expression. The way this woman’s emotions swing back and forth between happy and exasperated hurts my head. She comes to clasp my face between her palms. “Mr. Hawthorne earns ten thousand a year, Katniss. Ten thousand!”

I have in fact heard of the Hawthornes. Maybe those lessons have had more of an impact on me than I thought. I was forced to spend months poring over books filled with the names and family trees of wealthy, well-known families that I had either already been acquainted with or might be acquainted with in the future. A healthy knowledge of people, especially rich people, will get you far in life. At least that’s what Effie says.

Gale Hawthorne is the eldest son of the wealthy businessman Ezra Hawthorne. I forget exactly how Mr. Hawthorne first made his fortune but the word mine sticks around in my head. What his mine produced, I’m not sure. Precious gems? Gold? Coal? All I know is the Hawthornes are incredibly wealthy, and Gale being the eldest son inherited when his father died. He is in possession of everything from the family fortune to a legion of servants to the many extravagant houses in Town. Now it seems he’s grown tired with the city and has decided to try his hand at country living. Good, I think. A wealthy man who’s used to the high society of the Capitol won’t last long out here. He’ll be out of my hair before the month’s up. Effie must not realize this since she’s still staring happily into my face.

“And?” I ask.

“Well, he’ll fall in love with you and ask for your hand in marriage!” She beams as if this is obvious. “If you play your cards right of course. For instance, he won’t find you very agreeable if all you do is scowl at him like you do me-” I jerk out of her grasp.

Of course. Marriage. It’s one of the only things Effie has talked about the entire time I’ve been her pupil.

“Yes, Mr. Abernathy warned me that'd you'd be. . .avoidant. But don’t you see? That’s the reason I’m here. To teach you how to win a husband! It’s an art you know.” She sighs, probably seeing the panicked look on my face, and slips back into a tone of tired annoyance. “You’ll have to marry someone, Katniss. Might as well marry knowing you’ll spend the rest of your life in the lap of luxury.”

She’s right, of course. There’s no way for women to make their own living. I can’t go to university to study business or law, I can’t run my own shop, I can’t inherit Haymitch’s estate or fortune. When he dies the money goes to some estranged cousin on his father’s side. I am a woman, therefore, I am destined to either marry or die poor and unprotected. And Prim…

If I don’t marry, then Prim can’t marry. One of the rules of proper Panem society is that a younger sibling cannot marry unless the eldest has, meaning I must be happily settled before my younger sister can even entertain the idea of love. If I don’t get married and Haymitch goes and does something stupid like die, there will be nothing I can do. For either of us. We’d be turned out of the house and left to beg for scraps. And I will not let that happen to Prim. Not again.

I force myself to swallow past the lump in my throat and spend the rest of the afternoon paying careful attention to Effie. She’s trying to teach me to communicate with men via body language, long gazes, and the fluttering of lashes.

This is the only way to save Prim, and with each horrible flutter I produce and each disappointed sigh from Effie, I feel my chances slipping away.

#everlark #thg #thg fanfic #everlark fluff #katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #gale hawthorne #haymitch abernathy #finnick odair #pride and prejudice #jane austen au #regency #everlarkfic #The Hunger Games

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seanhtaylor · 3 years

Text

Erosion

The breeze that blew the dust around seemed to whisper rumors that a storm was on its way. I’d only swept off about half of the porch, and I wasn’t even close to being finished yet; after the porch came the back storage room. Since I was just a few feet away the from the open doorway, I could hear Pa whistling, but the wall hid him from me. He’d done a lot of counting in there all week.

Big Bull stood silently on the porch, and watched intently as I worked. His stare never left. Never turned. Never stopped. It was as eternal as the thin flat frown the woodworker had given him. He had skin like rust mixed with mud, and his outfit was a rainbow montage of feathers and animal skins. The man who made him was an Indian too.

Three years ago, Pa had finally bought that store he’d always dreamed of owning. Nettle’s General Store was to Pa the culmination of years of hopes, and the end of the elusive vision that never materialized, yet had continued to tease him me mercilessly. Most of his time, free or otherwise, was spent in that store. Neither my mother, sister, nor I saw much of him after that, except sometimes for supper. Meticulously he’d walk each aisle of the small store and stoop to check every bin of merchandise, neglecting nothing at all. Every yarn or straw doll, knitted scarf, Mr. Goodbar, everything was accounted for and inventoried.

Dust flew and danced around me in the breeze while I swept. Every few minutes, whenever his counting brought him to where he could see me out front, Pa would yell out to me to get on with it, or to tell me that I missed a spot. He wasn’t a big man, but he had a big voice. Most of the time he just kept to himself, staying busy with his inventory list.

“Hey, Pa! You need any help counting them yarn dolls?” I yelled, hoping my words would sneak around the doorway to get his attention. “Miss Barnes says my adding’s about the best in the whole class.” I gave him a few seconds to show. “Hey, Pa! “

“What you yelling about now, Midge?” Midge was the nickname given to me by most of the other kids at the schoolhouse. Short for midget, it never let me forget that I was less, at least in stature, than my peers. It was the only name by which most folks in town knew me. “Say, you ain’t done with this porch yet? Dang, son... Quit fooling around with that Indian, and finish the porch.”

“Yes, sir.”

The wind played tag with the dust, and kept me sweeping twice as much as I should’ve just to get done. When I did finish, I gave my broom to Big Bull, leaning it beside his spear. He was surely a sight, that proud warrior, carrying a war spear firm and ready to fight, and there propped up was against him a ramshackle excuse for a broom. If only a real heart beat underneath that chest of oak, it would’ve burst wide open of humiliation.

“So... Who are we gonna get after today, Big Bull? Billy the Kid?”

Indian eyes gazed straight ahead, seeming to point visibly at a victim for the day. Up main street, like the naked emperor in that Hans Christian Anderson story, walked Kyle Lovett.

“Good idea...” I told Big Bull, “Good idea...”

* * *

“Hey Mee-uhge,” Kyle teased, dragging the nickname into two syllables, “You and your Indian chased any rustlers out of town today?”

Kyle stopped in the middle of the street to make sure I didn’t ignore the remark. He looked different than usual. Clean. Dressed in his Sunday suit. Even his brown, mangled hair was combed. He didn’t look like the same Kyle who had bloodied my nose two years ago.

I knew it was stupid to provoke him again, but I couldn’t help it. Besides, Big Bull was with me. “Kyle? Hey, Kyle? What you all dressed up for? Today ain’t Sunday, and there ain’t a funeral in town or nothing.”

“Look here, Midge,” he shook a fist at me, “What I wear is my own business, not yours, runt.”

That was the Kyle I was used to, no matter how he looked. That was the bully who had been responsible for getting me and Big Bull together in the first place. When he had pounded my nose, Pa had been busy in the back of the store, and my mother had been up visiting my aunt and uncle in Missouri, so where else had I to go but to the Indian? He didn’t tell me to hush up my racket, or that I was too big to cry. He had just listened and let me wet his feet and legs with my tears and the blood from my nose. By the time I’d finished, the swelling had gone down, and most of the bruises weren’t sore anymore. Pa had sure been mad though; the blood wouldn’t wash out, so my shirt had been pretty much ruined, and it was a gift from my cousins.

“I just wanted to know. Didn’t mean to make nothing of it.”

“Well, it ain’t none of your business anyhow... but if go telling everybody, I’ll get you like last time.” Satisfied, he spun around, facing away from the big Windham house at the edge of Chattville, and strutted off like the only rooster in a house full of hens.

* * *

Sometimes Big Bull and I would pass the afternoon hoping for a new General Motors’ car to drive by. Most people who owned a car had an older Model T from ten or twelve years ago. The Windhams owned the only General Motors’ vehicle in town, but they only got it out when they went out to another town. Mostly everybody walked since Chattville was so small.

Before Kyle’s dust could get a chance to settle, Molly Windham came skipping up the street, her red hair pulled off to the sides of her head in pigtails, each one bouncing without rhythm, beating softly on her neck.

“That you, Midge?”

Molly was fourteen, three and a half years older than I was, but it didn’t matter much. Especially standing there in her green party dress, made up like she was grown, not just a girl.

“Sure is.”

She bounced right up to the porch, grinning like the cat from Wonderland.

“Midge...”

“Uh-uh.”

“I just got the best news in the world.” Her lips were painted with bright red; they were two roses, growing on her face. “And I’m so excited I feel like kissing somebody.”

And she did. Molly Windham leaned over and stuck her two roses right on my forehead, and puckered like a fish.

I thought the stars had fallen from heaven, and were dancing around me.

While the stars danced, Molly twirled off the porch, and straight over to the dress-maker’s shop. She jangled the bell beside his door a few times, spinning and jangling, jangling and spinning, until Sam Miller finally came out and yelled something I couldn’t make out before pulling her inside. The echo from the bell drifted toward me and Big Bull.

“Did you see that!?”

The Indian didn’t answer, but I knew he was listening, and that he hadn’t missed any of it.

“Pa... Pa... Guess what!”

* * *

“You done with that porch yet?” Pa had come out to the screen door, tapping his pencil hard against that list of his. “There’s plenty more sweeping to be done inside.”

“Pa...”

He slipped his pencil into the front pocket of his work apron, and pulled his watch and chain from out of his pocket. As he flipped it open, he nodded, “Now, don’t ‘Pa’ me. You know it takes a lot of work to keep this place going. That means all of us.”

“But Lucy doesn’t have to.”

“Your sister’s busy enough taking care of your mother. She don’t have the time.”

“But...”

Pa was starting to get mad. His eyes narrowed like an Oriental man, and his ears began to turn a little red under where his hair was cut. “No excuses. First the back room, where the feed is. After that, we’ll see about letting you play some more with that Indian.”

He held the screen door open until I got the broom and drudged inside, dragging it with me. His eyes didn’t leave me until the door to the back room slammed shut behind me. I know. I peeked back out as he turned.

* * *

My wooden friend waited patiently while I swept out the back room. He hadn’t changed a single expression while I’d been gone. Just like always. He was there waiting.

“How much do you think flowers cost, Big Bull?”

I kept watching for Molly to leave Sam Miller’s shop. After a while nobody went in or came out anymore, but there was still no sign of Molly.

“Special flowers, I mean. Something better than I could pick out of somebody’s yard.”

Directly, Sam left the shop too, and locked the door behind him. He left two empty buckets outside the shop’s door like he always did, just in case anybody needed to borrow one late in the day. His brown suit pulled tight over his round frame making him look like a sausage with a lump in the middle.

“What kind of flowers do girls like now, anyway? They’re always so hard to please. That’s what Pa says. He ought to know... he’s known my mother a long time and all.”

Sam had to walk down by the store to get to his house, and as he waddled by, I waved to him and said hello.

“Well, if it ain’t little Midge. Say, you got you a girl for the dance next month? Surely your Pa and...” He made a face like he’d swallowed a horse. “Surely he’s gonna let you and your sister get out to it.”

“We ain’t so good at dancing, Mr. Miller.”

“I ain’t so good myself...” he said, and he was right. Round men who bounce when they walk looked twice as silly dancing. Even though he waltzed like a bag of potatoes, he always went. The girls said he made the best dancing gowns in the state. “But I wouldn’t miss seeing all the pretty girls in their new dresses I’ve made for them. Just today Molly Windham ordered one of the most difficult gowns I’ve ever had to put together. Old Man Windham said not to worry about how much it costs. It’s a dress-maker’s dream, Midge.”

“What color is it, Mr. Miller?”

“Color? It ain’t just any color, Midge. I’ve gotta order the cloth clean out of St. Louis.”

“They got different colors in St. Louis than here in Chattville?”

“No. Now don’t fool with an old man’s funny bone. It’s red, except it’s the same color red as Molly’s hair, lighter in spots, and shiny when the sun hits it right.” Sam pulled on a gold chain that disappeared into the fold-over of flesh and suit where his pocket should have been. Out flopped a gold pocketwatch. He opened it. “Mrs. Miller will be wondering were I am soon. Hope you get to go.”

I waved goodbye, and then when he was gone. “Roses. Red roses. The reddest we can find.”

I knew Big Bull approved.

* * *

Pa said no when I asked him about the flowers. I told him I’d work harder, and even stay away from the gumballs, but he still said no. That he was spending too much on the store already, and with my mother’s fever still not breaking, even though it had been two weeks.

* * *

The wind was picking up, turning a calm kiss-like breeze into a cold slap. Some papers announcing the dance floated across town in short hops, then flew on, bullet-like, when the stronger drafts got a hold of them.

The porch was warm underneath my weight, but when I touched it in a new place the wood was cold. The moisture on my hands would chill and then thaw in a fluid motion. I looked back at Big Bull.

“Sure was nice of old Joe to let me work for the flowers.”

I held the two flowers, roses, red as Molly’s fiery hair and the lips that had kissed me. They had cost me every cent I had plus a promise to work down at Old Joe’s flower shop once a week when I wasn’t helping Pa at the store. It was a high price, but worth it to see the look I knew would be on Molly’s face when I asked her to the dance.

It had seemed like hours until dusk came. Now that it was here, I could hardly wait. But the timing had to be perfect. I had to show up right after the dishes were put away. If I arrived early, the surprise would get lost in the clean-up shuffle; if I was too late, the effect would be interrupted by the family time around the radio listening to Amos and Andy.

“Wish me luck,” I said, and dashed from the porch.

Roses firmly in hand, I hurried down to the house at the edge of Chattville where Molly and her father lived (Her mother had died of tuberculosis when Molly was a baby). I could think only of my dream, my vision, waiting for me there in her red party dress, the fringes dancing in the evening breeze. My heart seemed not only to beat, but to pound with a steady, driving, big jazz rhythm like Benny Goodman or Louis Armstrong was directing its music. Time hardly passed at all, it seemed before I was there, suddenly staring at the heavy oak door.

Mr. Windham answered the door quickly after my small closed hand gathered the resolve to knock. His herringbone suit hung comfortably loose off of his tall thin frame. When he recognized me, his small mustache twitched and his eyes focused down onto mine.

“Why Midge, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

“Is Molly in, sir? I’d sure like to see her. I’ve got something for her.”

“Sure she is. Right in the den with...”

Kyle Lovett. Mr. Windham didn’t have to say it. I knew it the minute I walked in. He was sitting on the couch with Molly, holding her hand. How could she!? Didn’t she know what he was like? Kyle Lovett.

The roses were trampled underfoot as I choked on the anger rising in my throat, and ran away to Pa, dragging a cracked and tender heart behind me.

* * *

“Pa! Pa!” I pounded at the door with my small fists, knowing he would be locked away in the back office, listening to the clickety-clacks of the adding machine.

The sky had blackened while I had left Molly’s, and had given its first few drops to warn me that a big storm was coming. Rumbles sounded in the distance, but grew a little louder each time. If I’d had sense enough, I’d have let the winds blow me straight up the street to my house, safe from the weather.

“Pa! Please let me in. There’s a storm coming, Pa. Pa!”

As if it had waited for my announcement, the thunder and rain let loose on the earth like God was trying to punish us the way the Pastor down at the Missionary Church had said. The rain began to pelt down, soaking the dirt of the road, and beating it into a shallow layer of mud almost instantly. The papers that had been blown all over town were drenched and wrenched apart by the combined power of the wind and water.

Across the street was the wall of clay we all climbed on in the summer. At least we tried to climb it. It went about sixteen feet straight up, smooth as a polished stone. The only way to make it to the top was to take two pocket knives, and edge your way up, one jab at a time. Only the oldest and strongest boys ever made it all the way. The rest of us could hardly even stick the knives in the wall, since the clay was so hard and set.

Only, the storm washed it down to sixteen feet of mush pretty quickly. Anyone who tried to climb it now would probably drown in the river of wet clay eroding down the face of the wall.

The wind lifted Sam Miller’s two buckets, and sent one through the candy store window, and the other into the outside wall, where it dented and fell, waiting for another flight.

Although the porch kept me safe from most of the wind, it offered me no protection from the worst of the storm. The rain invaded in solid bullets of water, spreading out and joining together to make lakes and reservoirs that ran down between the cracks, only to be replaced by the new puddles that continued to build.

“Pa!” I yelled, but the thunder swallowed my cries. Big Bull stood firm. Since he was so heavy, the wind couldn’t shake him, not even a quiver. The rain soaked into the wood, but that only made him heavier, more secure. It also darkened the colors, and brought him closer to life.

Through the curtain of water, I saw every cut, every strain of artistry on Big Bull’s frame. In each carefully carved inch of his face, pain rested. His eyes were deep- set and sunken a little in sorrow, but somehow friendly in their darkness. The mouth was closed in an eternal silence, and the wrinkled carvings surrounding the flattened frown revealed a subdued bitterness that flamed, no doubt, beneath the painted exterior. Though he held only a single spear, his muscles were tensed and rigid, ready to answer the call to fight, eager. Big Bull captured well not only the hurt and anger of his people, but their strength as well.

So I hid from the storm.

The Indian’s figure kept me dry for the most part. Patches of rain managed every now and then to sneak around his legs and hit me, but I was separated from the worst part of the weather.

In time, the fury of the storm faded away. Its terrible threats and banshee screams died into quiet darkness. The sun had abandoned its post during the attack, leaving Chattville lighted only by the incandescent glow of random windows. Sleep, like a desire for death, found me, and I curled around Big Bull’s wooden feet.

* * *

“Midge... Midge... Get up. You’ll catch a death of cold out here.”

The blackness lifted from behind my mind and eyes, and I saw Pa trying to help me up.

“Pa...”

“Yeah, it’s me. What were you doing out here in the middle of that storm anyway? I thought you were home with your mother and sister.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached for the handle of Big Bull’s spear, and used it to pull my worn-out body to a sluggish stance. Pa immediately reached out to keep me from falling again to the porch, but the spear supported me well enough.

“Let’s get you inside. I’ve got some hot cider going if you want some. It’ll sure help warm up your inards.”

I felt Pa’s overcoat as it was put around me to keep me from shivering. I expected it to engulf me, but it barely spread across my shoulders. He was a much smaller man than I had imagined.

#Gomer and other Early Works #Sean Taylor #short story #Erosion #Southern Fiction

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