#I've been peeking at chapters every now and then and I have to say it's all gotten very exciting!

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 1: Memento Mori

Okay, so first the prologue, and now the first chapter. As I've said before, not all chapters include a Josh-interactions because of accuracy to the game, so you'll just have to live with it. If you haven't read the Prologue, go to my profile, then the masterlist, Josh Washington. You'll find it there. Get ready for tomorrow!

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Chapter 1: Memento Mori

After what happened up on the mountain last year, Josh didn’t stay in touch. At first we all tried to talk to him, help him, but we gave up one after another. He talked with Sam a lot. I think she did the most she could until he cut contact. I didn’t want to put too much on him, and we all were in grief as well, so it probably was the best solution. 

Sam and I had regular coffees. It helped us both. We shared stories about them, and she told me about everything which happened that night. The prank wasn’t about me, nor Josh. Not even Beth, but she still had to suffer the consequences. Poor Beth, and poor Hannah. We all knew she had a thing for Mike, but setting her up like that was not okay. I now despised them all, Jessica, Emily, Mike, Matt, Ashley. Matt was such a sweet guy, I couldn’t imagine him standing there with a camera, recording everything. For me though, Ashley hurt the most. I loved her, I truly did, but I cut contact quickly after I got to know about the evening. She sent me a bunch of texts, begging me to talk to her. She was sorry, she was drunk, caught up in the moment, and everyone was doing it so she felt like she had to. She never knew that the aftermath would be as bloody as it did. I still didn’t text her back. 

A month before the anniversary of their disappearance, Sam got a video message from Josh. He invited her up to the cabin again, stating that this would be a way to honour their memory, and relive the experience, but with a good ending. There would be booze, partying and just making new memories. Based on the video, it seemed like he asked everyone in the old group. Everyone except me. I felt hurt. Betrayed in a way. I was one of the few he talked to, cried to. Our relationship didn’t evolve after the event, but I was still there for him, trying to comfort him. Sam told me that I should come with her, but I declined. If he didn’t want me there, it was okay. She couldn’t understand why, but she kept being insistent, urging me to give it a chance. I didn’t have to be there the whole time, and if I wanted to, I could leave the very next day since the bus went through the area once every day. 

It would be good to talk to Josh, maybe even if he didn’t want to. I was selfish, I knew that, but I had to see him. I wanted to see how he was doing, how he was feeling. This also made me think of Chris. He would probably be there, and I hadn’t kept in touch with him either. I felt bad, but at the same time, we weren’t that close. I knew that he still hung out with Ashley sometimes, and maybe that made me a bit afraid. Maybe she would try to contact me through him? Maybe I wasn’t just selfish. Ashley also needed to talk. Talk to me, clear the air. I would let her. I finally agreed to come with Sam up to the cabin. 

***

The bus is empty, except for Sam and I of course. She didn’t pack much, and I didn’t either. I figured that I wouldn’t stay long. I just needed to talk to people, get some weights off my shoulders. The radio is playing, and no surprise, it’s about Beth and Hannah. I hold my composure, trying not to cry. The trip is long, and I end up sleeping on her shoulder for a good amount of it. Sam is watching something on her phone, but I don’t peek. I simply look out the window. There is an eerie feeling to these mountains. I felt the same last year, but this time it feels stronger. The black trees are covered in snow, untouched by animals. 

Finally we reach our stop. The sign says “Blackwood Pines” and hadn’t it been for last year's events, I would still love the name. Being here for the first time felt magical, straight out of Narnia, joining a winter wonderland of mystery. Now, I feel nervous. The air isn’t as fresh, the ground not as hard and the snow was too white. Instead of smelling winter, I smell something musk, like a dead animal or rotten meat. I look over at Sam, and I think she notices too. 

We start walking in silence, through the gate and up the trail. As we walk, she stops. 

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” I whisper, getting anxious. Maybe it’s a wild animal, a wolf or a bear. 

“Hello!?” Sam shouts, and my eyes widen. Why would she do that, what if the animal looks at us as a threat now. I look around, expecting something to pop out, but it’s silent. 

“Sorry, I probably just thought I heard something,” she says, continuing walking. She notices my tenseness. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, absolutely not” I state, looking around again. 

“Hey I get it, this is weird, but we’re doing this for Josh right,” she starts, taking my hand, stopping me. 

“I hate to say it, but you need to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen, and people are just being friendly”

“I know, I know. I just can’t shake off this feeling that there’s something here”

“It’s because of last year. We’re all still thinking about it, so we know how you’re feeling”

I look up at her. She’s right, I’m not alone in this, and we’ve both been there for each other the whole year. 

“Yeah, thanks for the talk. It’s just… well, weird”

“It is, but I think this is good for you. This trip could be a way for you to let go, get some closure. They both would’ve wanted that for you” she says, before pulling me into a hug. I breathe, and some of the tension lifts. Thank God I still have Sam. When we pull away she looks at me, smiling. I smile back, before looking behind her. My mouth opens, eyes widen and my breath hitches. I grab her hand, holding hard. 

“S-Sam, c-c-careful. Stand s-s-till,” I whisper. She holds her breath while searching my face for answers. 

“Boo!” I shout, punching her with both my hands. She screeches, jumps and I feel her pulse in her hand. 

“Got you” I laugh, while she’s still trying to compose herself. 

“Fucking asshole” she says. I can’t stop laughing. 

“You know, you’re going to ‘wolf wolf’ me.”

“I can live with that” I continue laughing, before starting to walk again, her following after. 

“I’m joking, that was out of line, sorry” I say after a while. 

“At least you got to see my ‘frozen’ face”

“Yeah that’s why I laughed” 

We reach the gate, and a piece of paper is pinned on the lock. 

“The gate’s busted, climb over -Chris” 

“I guess we have to climb,” I state, looking at the gate. There are big spikes on the top of the gate, so I look over at the side. It’s a stone wall. 

“Right up my alley” Sam says enthusiastically. Of course it is. 

“I’ll give you a lift first if you take my bag” she says, already taking off her bag. 

“Fine, just don’t throw me over with those strong climber-arms of yours” I reply, taking her bag and making my way to the wall. She puts out her hands and I grab somewhere safe on the wall. She helps me get up, and I jump down the other side, looking up, waiting for her. 

“Gosh, the stones are cold” she complains, finally getting to the top. 

“Should’ve worn gloves” I smile, showing off my red-covered hands in a theatrical manner. She laughs before hopping down. I give her backpack back, and we continue up. 

When we finally arrive at the cable car station, the place seems empty. I see a couple of cars in the parking lot, but don’t want to check who they belong to. One of them must be Josh’s. I walk up to the bench, noticing a backpack and a ringing phone. My curiosity is immense, but I don’t touch it. Sam notices who’s bag it is. 

“Hey Chris!” she yells, looking around for him. 

“Hey guys” he answers, and we both turn around. He seems older, more harsh than the year before, but I don’t comment on it. 

“How are you ladies?”

“Well, as you can expect” Sam answers, still smiling. I smile as well, keeping the mood light. I don’t notice how much I’ve missed him before seeing him now. Something in me breaks a little. 

“Oh, so, I found something kind of amazing”

“What?”

“I’m not gonna tell you got to see for yourself” he smiles, grabbing his backpack and leading us around the house. We get to the other side where we’re met with a shooting range. Barrels and bottles stacked for hitting, as well as bags hanging from the trees. 

“Ta-da! Pretty rad right?” Chris exclaims, loving this a bit too much. Sam forces a smile, guns are not a source of happiness for a pacifist. 

“A gun range on the bottom of a ski lodge” I comment. “How… nordic?”

Chris picks up a gun before looking at me. 

“Well, have you met Josh’s dad?”

“Yeah”

“Then we shouldn’t be surprised” he says before turning and aiming the gun. I hold my breath, not comfortable with this funny clumsy guy holding a death-weapon. He shoots the bags and one of the cans. I’m kind of impressed. 

“Nice shootin Tex” Sam teases, not impressed. I guess it would take something better than shooting to impress her. She fakes an annoyed look before turning my way. 

“Wanna try?”

“You know what, sure. It’s been a while” I say before taking the gun from him, taking off my backpack and laying it beside me. 

“You’ve done this before?”

“Josh has taken me shooting several times, not hunting though, luckily” I smile, remembering how close we felt the first time he showed me how to use it. 

“I bet that’s not the only thing you two have done” he comments, a smirk on his lips. 

“Haha, funny guy” I tease back. Sam holds her laughter. I shoot a couple of bags, stopping when a squirrel jumps on one of the barrels. 

“I guess that’s our sign to start going to the lodge,” I say, leaving the gun and grabbing my bag. 

“Jeez, I wish Josh would take me shooting,” Chris says, and I smile. 

The cable car is coming, and Sam makes her way over there. I use the opportunity to grab ahold of him. 

“Hey Chris, about this year-” I start, but he holds a finger up, signalling for me to stop. 

“I get it, if I were in your shoes I would’ve done the same”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s weird being back, but I’ve been wanting to clear up everything. We should keep in contact, even though you don’t want to talk to Ashley, I understand”

“When did you become such an understanding gentleman,” I tease, punching his arm and start walking. He lifts his arms in the air. 

“Haven’t I always been?” And I laugh at him. 

We all get in the cable car, and it starts moving up. Chris starts talking about how he and Josh met, and I pay close attention. I’ve only heard this story from Josh, and I love getting the different story-perspectives. 

***

We arrive at the top, I stand and try to open the door. It will not open. 

“Uh, guys, I can’t get the door open.” Chris tries, but can’t manage either. His response is to smack the window. 

“Ahh, what the hell!” I hear someone say. Jessica. I compose myself. 

“Jess! Over here, open the door!” Chris shouts. I see her through the window, and I bite my lips from having to look put together. Don’t look like a bitch, don’t look like a bitch, don’t look like you have anything against this piece of scum. I keep chanting in my head. 

She opens the door, and we all thank her. As we walk out, Chris starts whining. 

“Oh my god. I thought we were goners. Another ten minutes in there and I would’ve chewed off my own leg.”

“Aw, sick Chris,” Sam comments. 

“Look, I’ve got a lot of meat on my bones. This is all muscle down there.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Yeah riiiiiight”

“Keep telling yourself that Chris,” I add, clapping him on the shoulder as I walk past him. He lowers his voice to a whisper. 

“Well, we all know who’s bone you want to jump…”

I turn around, mouth agape and eyes threatening. He immediately puts his hands up in defence, walking backwards two paces. 

“Just jokes, just jokes” says, voice cracking. 

“Dickhead”

“Notice how I’m not going to make another joke about that,” he answers. I quickly make a snowball and throw it at him, hitting his chest. Sam places herself between us, arms tense as if waiting for someone to attack. 

Chris uses this opportunity to snatch whatever Jess is holding. 

“Well, well, well… What do we have here?”

“Chris” Sam starts. He opens it, a surprised look on his face. 

“My goodness! Seems like someone has a crush on our good friend and dear class president Michael Munroe.” Shit. That’s not good. 

“Chris,” I threaten. 

“And what kind of sizzling erotica might our Jessica be capable of imagining, I wonder…”

Before he’s able to see more, Jess quickly snatches the item back. 

“If you must know-” she starts.

“Mike and I are together now.” We all look at each other. 

“Drama,” Chris answers. 

“No, pretty cut clean actually. Em’s out, I’m in,” she explains. I look over at Sam. She doesn’t know what to say. Luckily, Chris breaks the awkwardness. 

“Well, we should keep going” 

“You go, I’ll be waiting here for a bit”

“Waiting for Mike?”

“Just go”

We oblige, walking further and leaving her behind. The trail is quite big and visible. It’s comfortable to walk on. As we turn a corner, I see the cabin. The cabin where Josh is, where Ashley is probably waiting. The cabin which was the last place two of our best friends were seen alive one year ago.

[heavenlyborne]

It's been a long time coming but finally my girl makes an appearance in the latest chapter even if it's just one panel!

[pseudowho]

The JJK Boys Catch You Wearing This...

...after they tell you to put on that little red number you have.

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Yuuji: Walking through the doorway and calling out to you, Yuuji peeks in the bedroom. As you see him, you stick out one high-heeled leg seductively, pointing your toes and giving a suggestive wiggle.

Yuuji absolutely falls apart with laughter, grasping the doorframe for support as tears pour down his face. Tries to talk, but every time he looks at you, he breaks down again.

Finally, stopping to wipe his eyes, he asks: "But did you get me one, too?"

You had, obviously.

Higuruma: "Hey, I'm home!" he calls out to you, throwing his suitcase down and yanking his shirt collar loose. He hears you call him from the bathroom, and pads down, walking in, "It's been a shit and unsuccessful day as usual, but you know what they say--"

You are in the bath, wearing only this, legs draped over the side as you ask him, in your best seductive voice, "Have you ever taken a bath in your clothes, Mr.Higuruma?"

Hiromi stares flatly at you for five seconds. Sighing, he does his shirt back up, turns back to the door and picks up his suitcase.

"Hiromi-- hey-- where are you going?"

"Back to work. There are actually fewer criminals there."

Suguru: Arriving home, sounding tired and resigned, he shouts out to you, "Babe! Is dinner sorted, or do you want me to cook?"

"No, it's okay, I've cooked!"

Heaving a happy sigh-- "ahh, amazing" -- Suguru hustles to the kitchen, "What's for--"

He stops, as there you stand, one stockinged leg up on the kitchen chair as you lean forward, bum wiggling, and--

*click*

You turn to Suguru, your warped cloth face somehow looking absolutely horrified; "Was that...did you just take a photo? Suguru?! Suguru!"

He runs. You'd better believe every mutual friend in Suguru's contact list is receiving that gem.

Nanami: Expensive brown shoes clack on the floor towards the living room-- "Sorry I'm late. I've missed you so much"-- excited to see you and that gorgeous little red--

You are in Nanami's favourite armchair, stockinged legs crossed, heeled foot twiddling, wearing some red monstrosity, and even worse, you've draped one of his ties round your neck--

"Why are you like this?" Nanami huffs, exhausted, deflating. You giggle, shaking with mirth.

"Did Gojo buy you that...thing? I'll pay you to take that off."

Later that evening, you come out of the bathroom to the smell of smoke. Kento stands in the garden, sleeves rolled up, stoking your red costume in the fire pit.

Gojo: "I'm pretty sure I've fought Curses that look like you before," Gojo grinned, arms and legs crossed and leant against the doorframe as you strutted around the living room, laughing to yourself. You moved to remove the costume, satisfied with your joke--

"Ah ah ah, you're not done yet." Your bizarre costumed face stares quizzically at Gojo, who settles on the sofa, legs spread, unzipping his trousers with a wink. He grabs his phone, and puts on some music.

"Dance, cutie. And you'd better believe you can keep that on the whole time."

Toji: You squealed, costumed face hitting the pillows as Toji threw you hard onto the bed, bouncing on your hands and knees. You move to turn, and Toji turns you back round, smacking your bare arse as you squeak again, laughing.

"Dunno what you're laughing about, babe. I've fucked girls uglier than that mask of yours. Face down, arse up."

Sukuna: "I've killed for less than this, woman. Get undressed. Now."

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I'm meant to be writing the next chapter of a thrilling romantic drama. I offer no apologies for myself, I'm ridiculous.

[milswrites]

The Trials of Aphrodite Part Three

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.

Chapter summary: Azriel receives a lesson in flirting.

Warnings: A bit of angsty pining. Teeny bit of suggestiveness.

It was a familiar scene; you staring at Azriel.

And Azriel staring at her.

Want swimming in his hazel eyes as he absorbed Elain's glowing figure as she pottered about in her garden, lips parted in awe as he took in her soft features and natural beauty.

All the while your eyes stayed locked on him. Wonder filling your own gaze as you marveled at the admiration which flowed freely from the male next to you. Azriel's intense stare providing you with an insight into all the love he had to give. A love that would never be reserved only for you. A type of love that he would only ever feel for Elain.

"So how's this going to work?" you ask in an attempt to break Azriel from his lovestruck spell, swallowing your pain as you noticed the love draining from his eyes as he turned his gaze to you.

"I don't know, I was hoping you would tell me what to do" he nervously mumbled, peeking back over the rosebush the two of you were hidden behind to double check that Elain hadn't spotted you.

"Gods this is ridiculous, Az just go over and talk to her!" you exclaimed, your raised voice being met with the anxious shushing of your worrisome friend who was afraid of being caught.

"Gee thanks I wonder why I haven't thought about doing that before. . . It's because I can't!" his sarcastic reply was met with a flat look from you, certain that the only reason Azriel was finding this difficult was because he was the one making it that way.

"Az, how hard can it be? Just compliment her or something!" you sighed, wondering how Azriel could ooze confidence in every aspect of his life apart from when it comes to romance.

"It's not that easy. I've tried. . . look last time I complimented her I asked her if she was the cauldron because I wanted to drown in her eyes" he awkwardly admitted, embarrassed eyes cast to the ground in shame.

"You compared Elain to the cauldron?" you asked unimpressed, astounded at your friend's boundless stupidity, "Elain who quite literally drowned in the cauldron in what was probably the most traumatizing event of her life."

"I didn't say the line worked" Azriel grumbled, not liking the chuckle of disbelief which slipped from your lips at his hopelessness.

"Obviously not, we wouldn't be crouched behind a bush right now if it did" you retorted, unable to stop the fit of giggles which followed as you tried to imagine Azriel's pitiful attempt of flirting backfiring on him.

"Are you going to help me or are you just going to sit there and laugh at me?" Azriel huffed, not sharing in your amusement at his misery.

"Fine, fine. Just go over there and compliment her dress, girls like it when guys notice that kind of thing" you suggest, trying not to turn red as you recall the time when Azriel had first complimented one of your own dresses, having continued to wear it every time you saw him for the next few months with the hope of him praising you again.

"Great, what do I say?" your friend asked, but not before you shoved him right into the heat of the fire by pushing him out from behind the rosebush. Azriel stumbling away from the safety of his hiding spot.

"Azriel? What are you doing here?" Elain's gentle voice called out from where she was stood. A quick flash of Azriel's burning gaze a warning that the two of you would be talking about this later.

"Elain!" Azriel loudly starts as he slowly makes his way towards Elain, his awkward manner already making you cringe in discomfort, "Your dress! it's nice. . . and pink. Nice and pink."

It took everything in you not to hang your head into your palm in shame, finding it incredulous how one person could fail so miserably when it came to talking to someone.

Thankfully, if Elain found his behaviour strange she didn't let on, instead replying to his strange attempt of a compliment with an airy giggle and a polite thank you.

"Great! Well um. . ." your ears perk, brows furrowing in confusion as you wait to see what Azriel says next, "Hope you have a nice day!"

With that Azriel swiftly left, abruptly ending the painfully awkward conversation before leaving the garden, hurriedly making his way up the nearest street in order to escape his discomfort. Chasing after your flustered friend, you followed after him, hoping that Elain hadn't noticed you were also there listening in on their conversation.

"Nice and pink? Have a nice day?" you laughed, having caught up to Azriel, “I’ve met Middengard Wyrm’s that flirt better than you just did." Not failing to miss the dusty pink hue that had blossomed across Azriel’s cheeks in wake of his embarrassment. 

“I can flirt,” he swiftly defended, hazel eyes rolling towards the back of his head as he noted the teasing smile which had graced your lips, “I was just caught off guard that’s all.”

“Ah ok, you were caught off guard. Is that the reason why you practically screamed in Elain’s face?” you smirked, working to deepen your friend’s blush until the growing redness spread to his ears.

“I didn’t scream-” Azriel didn’t fail to miss the way your face contorted into a wince at his hopeless denial, his once heated words now converting into a low conscious murmur, “Was it really that bad?”

You stretch out a reassuring hand to come and rest against Azriel’s slumped shoulder, thumb instinctively moving to rub comforting circles into his taut muscle. Eyebrows knitting together in pained sympathy, you answer honestly, “Maybe it was a little pathetic. . .You won't be tending to Elain's garden any time soon if that was anything to go by."

There was no stopping Azriel’s despondent sigh, not even the gentle caress of his shadows against his shaking hands brought the male any solace, the swirling black tendrils failing to sate their master's rising panic as it washed over him.

It was a horrible sight, seeing your friend so dejected. Your heart twinging at the way his anxious breath rattled in his chest. You would offer him your understanding if you could, take his trembling hands into your own and tell Azriel that you were all too familiar with the feeling of getting tongue tied around the person you so longed for. Yet no confession of your shared failures in the romance department would fix this, not when Azriel was the one who owned your heart. Not when you had promised him help in winning over another.

And so you didn’t share your hidden truth with the male, instead opting to lock it away into the darkest depths of your heart. It was a secret you were willing to keep forever, so only to ensure the happiness of your friend. A secret you would carry with you to your grave if Azriel’s plan goes as intended. 

Instead you offer Azriel the only thing you could; your comfort. The supportive hand which had been resting on his shoulder now travelling down his arm. His shadows parting briefly to allow you to lock your fingers with his own, the smoky wisps resuming their soothing dance once your hands were comfortably entwined.

One touch. That was all it took to pull Azriel from the wave of panic that had consumed him. The familiar touch of your palm against his own enough to steady his uneven breaths and calm his shaking hands.

"Its ok," you promise, confident gaze meeting his own uncertain stare, "you've not ruined anything. All you need is a little more confidence and she'll be under your spell. Trust me, one flirty little one liner from you and it will be impossible for her to be anything but in love."

"I can manage one I suppose" Azriel attempts to agree confidently yet his words read more like a question, removing his hand from your own to ruffle his hair in thought.

"Maybe you could ask Lucien for tips, Feyre tells me he's quite the flirt'' you tease, hoping the mention of Lucien's name would spur on Azriel's desire to act on his feelings for Elain.

"I don't need help when it comes to flirting, and certainly not from him" he grit the words through his teeth having predictably taken the bait you had laid out for him.

"Hmm I'm not sure, your skills were a little lacklustre from what I could see" you continue to goad him, each prod and poke working to build your friends confidence bit by bit.

"Lacklustre?" Azriel scoffed in disbelief, all anxiety having been drained from his eyes and replaced with the spark of a challenge.

"You wouldn't have me swooning" you shrug casually, mouth twisting into a playful smirk at Azriel's displeasure.

“No?” Azriel asked in faux surprise, the male taking a slow step towards you, “not even if I did this?”

 A gentle push of the tips of Azriel's fingers against the exposed skin of your chest found you stumbling backwards until you were pressed against the wall. Your teasing smile fading as your shock consumed you, heart fluttering as Azriel's arms came to cage you on either side. “Or this?” he continued, leaning in close enough that the warmth of his breath against your neck began to send shivers down your spine. Your knees wobbling at the intensity of his gaze.

“I thought flirting included words?” you breathed out heavily, trapped under the heat of his gaze.

“Why use words when I could take you apart with less than that?” he lowly whispered into your ear, a glint of darkness in his eyes as a cruel smirk appeared on his lips. You found yourself speechless, entranced by the playfulness of his devilishly handsome features, your deep breaths falling in time with his own as he witnessed your stunned reaction to his words.

"I think Elain will find my flirting perfectly adequate" he smiled, shattering the moment as he mentioned the woman that he truly wished was captured between his arms. Reminding you that his flirtacious quip wasn't for you; it was for her.

"Maybe that's a bit much Az" you state sourly, moving your hand to his chest in order to push him away and slip under his outstretched arm, "I don't know how well Elain will take it if you come on that strong."

"You didn't seem to mind" he answered cheerfully, failing to notice your sudden change in mood, the male still trying to continue his teasing banter.

"I think you'll find there's more to women than just sex and physical attraction" you scoffed, desperately wanting nothing more than to move on from this conversation. Yet Azriel wouldn't provide you with that mercy, his next question almost enough to make you sick.

"What would you say then? To someone you loved, someone you pined after?"

You debated not answering him, dismissing his curiosity to spare you from the pain and embarrassment that would no doubt ensue. Yet a small part of you wondered if this would be your only chance. That perhaps you had the wrong idea, locking away your feelings, maybe all you needed was to get them off your chest. To lift the weight from your shoulders, allow yourself to finally move on from the male who would never be interested in you.

So you took the leap, looking your fear in the face as you stared into Azriel's expectant eyes.

And you confessed.

"I would tell him the truth. Tell him how not a day passes where I don't feel madly, uncontrollably in love with him. That any moment I'm not near him I find myself unable to breathe, unable to be satisfied until I am in his company. And I'd tell him that loving him makes me a fool, that I would never fail to sacrifice my happiness if only to see him smile. That love has made me it's servant and I am all too willing to bow before it."

"Sounds to me like you're an expert in love" Azriel answered after a thoughtful pause, a flicker of a smile working its way onto his face.

"I don't think I know what love is" you replied, still waiting for the moment of relief to come, failing to understand that it was a gift you would never receive.

"Nonsense, he's a lucky guy. I'm sure he feels for you as deeply as you do for him" Azriel cheerfully reassured you, looking absolutely delighted by the prospect of you being in love with someone. Completely unaware that he was the male you were speaking of. That he was the person you would struggle to live without.

And as you shook away the consoling shadow which had tentatively approached you, you wondered if your heart would ever be free from the chains of Azriel's own design.

Part four

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Notes: Thank you to @daily-dose-of-sass for unknowingly falling into my trap and giving me the most perfect pick up line for Azriel to have used 😌

Bit more of a look at the dynamic of their friendship in this one!

Taglist Part 1:

@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @sarawritestories @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @eve175 @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @Jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend

[deebris]

The Fractured Bonds

Nolan Grayson x daughter reader (platonic!)

Mark Grayson x sister reader (platonic!)

Synopsis: Mark finds himself facing an unexpected threat to his family when Angstrom Levy decides to hold his mother and sister hostage. Despite the family turmoil they've endured and Nolan's departure, he returns to rescue his daughter.

Warnings: Contains scenes of violence, emotional distress and it mentions that the reader was murdered in other realities. The reader is 5 years old. This is just an idea I had a long time ago and kept it stored. This scenario was inspired by Chapter 33 of the "Invincible" comics in portuguese.

Word count: 3.6k

As soon as Mark flew into the house through the window, his heart stopped when he saw you and his mother clinging to each other, as if your lives depended on that embrace. When Eve told him that Debbie had called, but the voice on the phone was a man's, he couldn't help but rush back to you two and imagine that something was wrong, and indeed it was.

At first, he ignored the hideous figure holding you both hostage, but made a point to glare at him with hatred now. His head was larger than that of an ordinary person and the shape of his brain was imprinted around the skull; moreover, the expression on the stranger's face was manic and as furious as Mark's, but there was a kind of excitement shining through.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Your brother's voice was deeper than usual; an attempt to sound more authoritative and intimidating.

"He wanted me to bring you here..." Debbie suddenly began to speak "I-I didn't know where you were. I remembered that Eve had called, I thought maybe she knew." Her voice was faltering, full of pauses between words due to nervousness. And it was while his mother was speaking that Mark noticed her bruised face, with a bleeding nose and purple patches on her arms as she held your small body as protected as possible.

You seemed to be in better physical condition than her, but your injured knee did not go unnoticed, as a thin trail of blood had formed around your calf. In an adult, the wound wouldn't have been a big deal, but your delicate skin stung with the cut, and he knew it hurt because of your sniffles. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do. H-he hurt me, he was going to hurt my baby." She said the last part with regret, referring to you, while holding you closer and running her fingers through your hair.

"In fact, I think your son was talking to me." Interrupting his mother, finally that man had spoken, and his tone was cynical, too unconcerned for the taste of the furious Mark glaring at him. As if that weren't enough, he dared to touch Debbie's shoulder, acting as if he had every right to do so.

"Let them go now." Mark ordered him with dangerously calm voice, although the expression on his face was one of pure disgust.

"Not yet." He opened a diabolical smile as he began his ridiculous speech: "I've learned a lot about you, Mark Grayson. Many things. I know how violent you can get when you're angry, like now..." He paused dramatically, as if he needed to emphasize what he was about to say next, and it was only irritating Mark's impatient. "I know you got it from your father."

The scowl on Mark's face deepened as you tried to peek out from your mother's arms to try to understand what was going on, but she pulled you closer to her embrace. "Stay here with mommy, sweetheart."

Both she and your brother hadn't had the courage to tell you what had happened to Nolan; you were still too young, maybe you wouldn't even understand. They both spent the last few months avoiding mentioning your father at home, and when they did, it was in whispers so that you wouldn't start asking questions they wouldn't know how to answer. No child should know that their own father was a superhero killer, let alone that he had abandoned his own family out of sheer moral caprice.

"Did you know that your identity is public in almost forty percent of the realities where you exist, Mark?" The villain continued his taunts, wanting to get to some point. "That's almost half. And that means you're careless."

"Get to the point already." Mark asked, or rather demanded. If this continued, he was sure he would snap. This dialogue was irritating him, but as long as his mother and sister were witnessing everything, he would need to hold himself together until he found a way to get him away from here.

"You see this?" He pointed to himself, referring to his own appearance "I'm a freak... A deformed freak. So I guess it's understandable that you don't recognize me." Then he wrapped you and your mother around his arm in threat, and the grip was painful. "When you saw me before, when you did this to me, I looked much more normal!"

"Oh, god... You're that guy." Realization struck him, widening his eyes as he remembered the past.

"That guy? Is that all you remember of me? That I was that guy?" If that man's temperament was bad before, now it must have risen about twenty degrees with the lack of importance his sworn enemy had given him. "I'm Angstrom Levy! The next time you forget my name, it will be because you'll be dead!"

He was certainly furious, pouring out hatred and continuing to blame Mark for interrupting his inter-dimensional goals, blaming him for his current deformed appearance, repeating that he would always be a freak, even though he had sought out the best surgeons to reconstruct his shattered body.

"The greatest minds in a dozen realities couldn't find a way to fix my brain!" His hands clenched into heavy, tense fists, ready to crush something "And it's all because of you!"

After that, he exploded and everything happened too quickly for Debbie to stop him, and even if she were quick, she wouldn't have had the strength. In moments, you were ripped from your mother, who had taken a punch to the face. Levy held you and stretched one of your arms with the free hand. You hadn't acquired powers yet and were nothing but a child; you couldn't defend yourself alone.

Mark took a step forward, but Levy raised your arm in a strange position, ready to break it. You cried and sobbed desperately due to the intense pain. "Mommy, make him stop! Mark!" You pleaded as he twisted your arm, and irrationally shouted for your brother repeatedly, seeking someone who could come to your rescue.

"Let her go!" Mark was no longer the Invincible, even in his superhero costume. He was just a man trying to protect his family, and he felt so useless and powerless that it was agonizing. Without thinking, he lunged at the hideous villain in front of him, ready to confront him in physical combat at that very moment.

"That's right. I'm right here. Come get me!" And he did, but Mark was taken aback to find himself in a completely strange place. He was no longer in his home; Angstrom Levy had sent him through one of his portals to another dimension.

He watched in shock the weird jungle he found himself in, with mutant dinosaur-like creatures devouring the carcass of another beast as large as they were right beside him. The animals noticed Mark, and suddenly they... Spoke? He heard the beasts mention that it had been a long time since they had seen any Homo Sapiens, obsessed with devouring him. Apparently, he was in some apocalyptic dimension where humans had been extinct by these beasts. He could have ended these animals in seconds, but still couldn't help but feel fear, not for himself, but for you. How would he return to help you?

At home, Debbie had to plead with Levy to return you to her, and with some pity for your cries after he broke the arm, he returned you, allowing you to be comforted by your mother. But he kept you two close to him, with a firm grip on the older woman's shoulder, so he could use you against Mark at any moment.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay," she repeated comforting words as she wiped away your tears and rubbed your back gently. Debbie had seen and heard of many cruel villains thanks to her life as the wife of a "hero," but how insensitive would a human being need to be to break a 5-year-old's arm like this? Of course, she knew that even more horrendous things had happened to children in this world, but you were her daughter, and it hit her deeply.

Debbie felt you faint in her lap and panicked. She shouldn't have shaken you the way she did, but in the midst of desperation, the last thing she wanted was to see you silent, with your eyes closed. You passed out from the pain. It's normal, she's aware of that, but it was still terrifying. She was only taken out of her stupor when she heard his disgusting voice again:

"I can't believe you're going to lie to her like that." He drew attention to himself. "What kind of mother are you? How can you say that to her? You're not sure about that." Debbie ignored him, and he took it as a challenge. "I bet you're not even listening to me. Blocking me from your mind, aren't you?" He insisted. "Are you sure you don't want to talk? I could use your company."

He tried once more, but still received no response from the woman. Levy shifted his gaze from Debbie to carefully observe you. He knew the pain must be intense; he should have given up injuring you as soon as Mark passed through the portal, but he preferred to do it as a reminder. A warning for when his brother returned. If he returned. "Let's check on your son. Let's see how well Mark managed to survive this reality."

Extending his hands to summon a portal that glowed green, a figure in his yellow superhero uniform passed through the colorful circle.

"You were going to hurt my sister?" The boy shouted as soon as he saw he was back home, numb with a sense of vengeance.

"Not only was I going to, but I did." The statement made Mark's blood run cold.

"Mark?" Debbie called him desperately to show your state. She couldn't bear to see you suffer. Mark held his mother's gaze, interrupting only to finally notice you, who were motionless. Your arm was in such a unusual and swollen position. Your face, which was once red from crying, now had turned pale, and if it weren't for your shallow breathing, he would have thought you were dead.

"What have you done?" He asked furiously.

Levy made no move to respond, taking you from Debbie's arms once again. "No! Let go of my daughter!" She shouted angrily, completely abandoning her earlier fearful expression. She refused to allow that horrendous creature to take you away from her a second time. Debbie had felt how cold and clammy your skin was, and the more she looked at you, the paler your face became.

"Welcome back, Mark Grayson." Levy said after observing the hysterical scene of the woman beside him unfold with some indifference. "Your little sister here is really cute; I personally adore this chubby face of hers." Mark's throat tightened at the sight of you in the arms of that despicable man, scared with force, and seeing his broken mother in the corner of the bed only made his heart beat harder. "You know, I've encountered her in other realities." His tone was perverse, too cynical. "But unfortunately, those versions of her didn't get to advance much in age compared to this one. Isn't that interesting?"

"You bastard!" It didn't take much intelligence to understand what he meant, and it made Mark's nostrils flare with fury.

"That also makes me wonder what must have happened differently for her to survive longer in this dimension." Debbie moved from where she was on the bed and carefully reached for the bedside lampshade while Angstrom Levy was distracted, but a brief glance at her son made her abandon the idea. Mark discreetly shook his head negatively, implying that she shouldn't do that. "Or maybe I am the trigger for this event here," he pointed out with a smile.

"If you hurt her more, I swear-" Mark said with hatred and tense body, but he was interrupted.

"What? You'll kill me? Of course, you will." The villain stared at him seriously, with some skepticism. "Don't worry. However, her well-being really only depends on you. After all, it was you who let Anissa kill her once, and Conquest, and Thragg... Although the latter was more your father's fault," he stated matter-of-factly while scratching his chin.

He seemed like had finished speaking, but decided that the hero needed to hear more upon seeing the boy's shocked face at the mention of those peculiar names, yours assassins, curiously, all Viltrumites. Levy wasn't sure if Mark was already aware of these people, but what really mattered to him was to disturb the boy. "But it's you whom I want to hurt. I want to hurt you so, so much... Your little sister is very safe, as long as I determine that the only way to hurt you is by hurting her."

Then suddenly he lifted your unconscious body in his arms as he prepared to throw you into a portal. Debbie's heart was in combustion, beating faster than ever as she suppressed a scream. But your brother's temper finally snapped, completely determined to kill him once and for all.

Mark moved forward to stop him, but within seconds, the roof of the house was pierced and him felt something, or rather, someone push him away. He couldn't see much, but he followed his mother's pleas and embraced her, protecting her from the wreckage. His throat tightened at not seeing you, not knowing what was happening, but soon part of the dust began to settle.

Struggling a bit, the boy managed to see his father's back, apparently holding the man, who moments ago was about to send you away, in the air by the neck. He relaxed a little more when he saw traces of his hair resting on Nolan's broad shoulder, finally free from the dangerous clutches. Despite the disturbing events regarding his father, Mark knew he wouldn't let anyone harm you under his protection.

Levy felt himself losing breath, his brain throbbing from the blow he received from a piece of wood fallen from the ceiling. An intense pain hit him as Omni-Man began to bash his head repeatedly against the wall. His skull was now partly mashed into the concrete, and the red liquid that was his blood flowed to the ground.

"If my left fist weren't busy, I'd make you suffer much more," Nolan's thunderous and deep voice sounded intimidatingly throughout the room. "Despicable trash like you should keep your filthy hands to yourself."

Nolan struck one last time as he whispered in a chilling whisper the last words that man would hear before having his skull pushed against the wall slowly, until it crushed like gelatin: "I'll ensure that every version of you that dares to appear here on this Earth, or anywhere in this Universe, has a slow and painful death before laying a finger on my daughter again."

And as the Viltrumite increased the grip on Levy's neck and continued pressing his head against the wall, it seemed like his eyes were about to pop out. The skin that was once brown now split between purple and pink in some spots due to the continuous pressure while him was dying.

Observing the man coldly, Nolan withdrew his hand and took care not to stain you with the blood dripping from his fingers, portraying a much gentler grimace as he observed your sleeping figure. He always found it adorable to see how incredibly tiny you looked in his arms, It awakened an intense feeling of protection. But upon noticing that you were injured, his eyebrows furrowed, carefully examining your broken arm while wondering how Mark had let this happen.

"Father, what-" Mark broke free from his mother, finally finding words amidst the shock, but was interrupted.

"Your sister needs to go to the hospital." His voice was distant, almost emotionless, successfully masking the concern.

Debbie honestly wasn't ready to face the man she had been deceived by so soon, but she couldn't care less when the only thing she had wanted for hours was just to keep you safe and close to her. She avoided his eyes as she anxiously waited for an opportunity to have you back in her arms, and her ex-husband seemed to have noticed. As hesitant as he was, he walked over to her carefully, avoiding showing a more human side of himself to his family, but also not being hostile in his gestures. He surrendered to the act and pressed his lips to one of her temples before putting you in her arms.

"Take good care of her." He stared at his son with some severity. "I can't always be here, I'm entrusting her life to you, Mark."

The boy looked at him with some indignation, as if his father doubted that he would do everything to protect you, but he knew he had been too careless, as Angstrom Levy said he was. Even though he had the strength to defend his little sister, he still found himself vulnerable tonight, almost incapable.

"You don't need to ask for that." Mark was firm, and Nolan nodded satisfactorily. He thought about saying something more, even though he didn't understand why, the last thing he should want is to speak to his father again. Perhaps it was to unload the disgust he still felt, but the health of both of you was a more important matter to him now.

"Go away." Debbie's voice surprised them. She was obviously defeated, too tired for all this, but still found the energy to stand while holding you. "It was the necklace, wasn't it? Are you spying on us?"

Nolan's gaze was hard, trying to hide how his ex-wife's contempt affected him. The months of bitterness he spent in space had changed his demeanor a bit, but he thought it would be less painful for both of them not to hear his regret after all the harm he had caused. He didn't consider himself worthy of his family's pity, although now they considered him a stranger. He knew that Mark and Debbie still harbored a monstrous image of the person he was, and perhaps he really was.

"Aren't you going to admit it?" She asked him again with indignation, seeing that the man didn't make a single move to leave.

The object she referred to was a gift from both of them to you, or rather, from Nolan. He was the one who had the idea of ​​putting the necklace around your neck with the excuse of keeping you safe. He wanted to know where you were and who you were talking to, and the way he found to do that was by projecting this piece with the help of his planet's technology. "I hope every time you hear this little girl mention your name, you wriggle with remorse and agony, if you still have any kind of heart. You were better off away."

She still remembers when he told you: 'Whenever you want to talk to me, just hold your necklace close. That way I'll always be with you.' At the time, it was something so beautiful, something they hadn't thought of doing with Mark, but now it could be different. In your childish mind, it was as if it were magical and a piece of your father would really be with you all the time. But now it stirred disgust in her, she wanted to destroy it.

"Don't take it off, Debbie. Please." Nolan's imposing voice had become softer, almost frightened, and he had finally shown some kind of weakness after so long. "Please." He repeated the plea.

"Mom, maybe it's a good idea to let her keep wearing it. At least sometimes." Mark interfered not for his father, but thinking of you. If Nolan had been able to appear today to save you, he could come to your rescue more often, although the idea of ​​you being in danger again gave him chills.

Debbie hesitated, giving up tearing the necklace off your neck. Knowing that Nolan would be able to experience their day-to-day life bothered her, but she would deal with it later, remembering that you needed medical care. She was very hurt, but her own condition didn't matter to herself as long as she saw you awake and well again. "Mark. Hospital." she announced hurriedly ignoring the fourth person in the room and the bloody scene beside her.

Nolan sighed in relief for a moment, looking one last time at you and Mark, ashamed, but adopting the stone-cold expression he had previously. "Mark, don't let her take it off." He didn't want to sound like that, but the tone of his voice carried a threat. The boy cared little about giving him any kind of response, returning a grim expression to his father as he departed at a thunderous speed through the now-open roof, just as he had come, raising the dust once again.

"Let's go," Mark said gently to his mother, lifting her delicately since you were in her arms.

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Part 9: Unexpected coincidence

A/N: Just waitttt 😭

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

4.6k words

"Oh my god, Violet, he proposed!!" Vanessa's excited voice burst through the phone, making me rub my eyes as I groggily walked out of my room. It was only 12 am, and I was still shaking off the remnants of sleep when her ecstatic screams echoed in my ears.

"Oh my god, he did? Congrats!" I replied, my voice still thick with sleep, but genuinely happy for her.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you? I just had to tell you, but we can talk more tomorrow, yeah? Same place and time?" Vanessa's voice softened a bit, realizing she might have interrupted my rest.

"Yeah, same place and time," I confirmed, already heading back to my room, where the bed still held the warmth of Logan's presence.

I glanced at Logan, who was still peacefully asleep. I've been using my powers to help him sleep, but he's getting better at it on his own. The sight of him resting so soundly brought a small smile to my face as I quietly slipped back into bed beside him.

-

I woke up from my slumber, nestled against Logan, his strong arms wrapped securely around me. His scent filled my senses—an intoxicating blend of pine trees with a hint of wood. I think it’s his new body wash, and I find it addicting. The faint smell of alcohol that used to linger around him is gone now. He’s stopped drinking like he did before, and it makes me happy to know he doesn’t need to rely on that anymore.

I couldn’t help but gaze at him, his slow, steady breathing the only sound in the room. His beard, just an inch away from me, was one of my favorite things about him. It was rough yet neatly trimmed, accentuating his strong jawline. His hair was a bit tousled, but his cat ears still peeked out adorably. I’ve always liked tugging on them when I kiss him; they’re just too tempting not to.

As I was lost in thought, admiring every detail of him, Logan’s eyes slowly fluttered open. His gaze met mine, and for a moment, we just stared at each other in the quiet stillness of the room. The soft light filtering in through the curtains highlighted the warmth in his eyes, making my heart skip a beat.

“Caught you staring,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice deep and husky from sleep.

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. “Can you blame me?” I replied, my voice soft and playful. “You look too good not to stare.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest, as he pulled me closer. “Well, if I get to wake up to you every morning, I’ll take all the staring you’ve got.”

His words made my heart flutter, and I leaned in, brushing my lips against his. I couldn’t resist tugging gently on one of his cat ears, just like I always did, earning a soft growl of approval from him.

“Good morning,” I whispered, feeling his breath warm against my lips.

“Morning, Bub,” he replied, his voice laced with affection. “What do you say we stay in bed a little longer?”

I smiled against his lips, but then gently pulled back. “I can’t,” I said, a hint of regret in my voice. “I’m meeting Vanessa for coffee. You know, girl talk and then I'm heading in for work.”

Logan groaned playfully, his arms still holding me close. “Girl talk, huh? Sounds dangerous.”

I chuckled, playfully swatting his chest. “Don’t worry, we won’t be plotting world domination… at least, not today.”

He smirked, finally releasing me from his embrace. " okay then but text me when you get to work." 

“I will,” I promised, leaning in to give him one last kiss before reluctantly slipping out of bed. As I got dressed, I could feel his eyes on me, his gaze lingering with the same intensity I’d felt when I was watching him sleep.

“See you later?” I asked, turning back to him as I headed for the door.

“Yeah,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ll be right here.”

With one last smile, I grabbed my phone and keys, heading out to meet Vanessa for our coffee and much-needed girl talk.

-

I knocked on Vanessa’s door, and it swung open almost instantly. “VIOLET!” she squealed, pulling me into a tight hug. I couldn’t help but laugh at her infectious happiness.

As she pulled back, she immediately thrust her hand toward me, showing off her ring. “Isn’t it perfect?” she asked, her smile stretching from ear to ear.

“Oh my god, yes, it is!” I exclaimed, taking her hand to get a closer look. The diamond was even bigger than I remembered, sparkling brilliantly in the light.

Vanessa grinned, her eyes narrowing playfully. “I know you helped him pick it out.”

“Actually, he did all the work. I was just there to calm his nerves,” I said truthfully, smiling at the memory of Wade’s excitement and jitters.

“Well, you both did amazing,” she said, her eyes shining with joy as she admired the ring again.

“Alright, let’s go! I’m dying for some caffeine and girl talk,” she said with a laugh as she grabbed her bag and quickly closed the door.

We stepped out of her apartment and made our way down the familiar streets, the morning sun warming the pavement beneath our feet. The conversation flowed easily between us as we walked, with Vanessa bubbling over with excitement about wedding plans and every little detail she wanted to share.

As we rounded the corner, our favorite coffee shop came into view—a cozy little place with a welcoming atmosphere and the best coffee in town. The bell above the door jingled as we entered, and the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, instantly putting us at ease.

“Our usual spot?” Vanessa asked, already heading towards the corner table that had practically become ours over the years.

“You know it,” I replied with a smile, following her to the table and settling in for what promised to be a much-needed catch-up session.

As we waited for our coffee, I glanced down and noticed something unusual. “Hey, what’s that yellow stain on your shoe?” I asked, pointing it out.

Vanessa rolled her eyes dramatically, letting out a sigh. “Ugh, it’s Wade’s dog. She peed on my shoe, and I tried everything to wash it off, but the stain just won’t come out.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her rant, the image of Wade’s dog causing trouble popping into my head. “That’s what you get for being around Wade too much,” I teased, earning a playful nudge from Vanessa.

“Honestly, the things I put up with…” she said, shaking her head but laughing along with me. “I swear that dog has it out for my shoes.”

“Maybe it’s just her way of welcoming you to the family,” I joked, and we both burst into laughter as the barista called our names, signaling that our coffee was ready.

As we settled into our seats, steaming cups of coffee in hand, I turned to Vanessa with a curious smile. "So, did you expect Wade to propose to you?" I asked, taking a sip of my latte.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "No, not at all. I knew he was taking me to dinner because it was the anniversary of when we met, but I didn't think much of it," she replied, her eyes sparkling as she reminisced.

"Yeah, Wade told me everything. I couldn't believe it! You're one step closer to having the family you've always wanted," I said, smiling warmly at her.

Vanessa's smile widened as she took another sip of her coffee. Then, her eyes narrowed playfully. "Well, what about you? Are you and Logan finally together? Wade might have mentioned that you two... you know," she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

I felt my cheeks heat up, memories of Logan flooding my mind and making my heart flutter. Vanessa noticed my reaction and laughed. "By your face, I have my answer," she giggled.

I joined in her laughter, nodding. "Yeah, he makes me happy, and I honestly don't think I can live without him. He's everything I've been looking for—caring, respectful, considerate, and he actually listens when I'm speaking," I confessed, feeling a warm glow as I spoke about him.

Vanessa leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face. "I'm so happy for you, Violet. You deserve someone like that," she said sincerely.

"Thanks, Vanessa. It means a lot," I replied, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

As we sipped our coffee, Vanessa looked at me with a teasing smirk. "So, how is he in bed?" she asked curiously. "Does he fuck hard? Gentle? Or is he just bad?"

I cut her off with a grin, "No, he’s perfect. When we did it, it felt amazing. He was the first to actually make me come, but I didn't tell him that—because, you know, men and their egos." 

Vanessa laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Lucky you," she teased, and we both burst out laughing.

"So, have you guys been doing it non-stop?" Vanessa asked with a playful nudge.

I shook my head, smiling. "No, we’ve only done it once. I think I want to take it slow, you know? And besides, he still hasn't asked me to be his girlfriend."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. "Really? I figured with the way you talk about him, it’d be a done deal by now."

"I know, right?" I chuckled. "But I guess I'm just waiting for the right moment. I want to make sure we're both on the same page."

-

Before heading into work, I realized that today was Laura’s 18th birthday. It was hard to believe she was now a grown woman, and I knew that it was finally time to share a part of myself with her that I’d kept hidden for so long—to tell her about me, about being a mutant, and to show her my true self.

On my way, I stopped by a quaint trinket shop, picking out a few things I thought she’d like: some bracelets, matching earrings, and a book that reminded me of her. With the gifts wrapped up nicely, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling inside me.

As I walked into the shop, I spotted Laura in the back, carefully washing the flowers. Her focus and care in everything she did always made me proud.

“Hey, Laura!” I called out, putting my stuff away.

“Hey! Be right there,” she replied, her voice cheerful as she finished up her task.

I walked over to her, waiting for her to turn around. When she did, I greeted her with a warm smile. “Happy birthday!” I exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug and handing her the present.

Her eyes lit up as she took the gift from me. “Thank you so much! You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, but I could see the genuine appreciation in her expression.

“Of course I did. You deserve it,” I replied, watching as she started to unwrap the present.

As she carefully opened it, I took a deep breath, knowing that after she saw the gifts, it would be time for the bigger conversation—the one I’d been preparing myself for all day.

As Laura unwrapped the gift, her eyes widened with delight as she saw the bracelets, earrings, and book. She looked up at me with a big smile, clearly touched by the thoughtful presents.

“Thank you, Violet! These are beautiful,” she said, holding up the bracelets to admire them.

I smiled back, feeling a warm sense of connection with her. "I’m glad you like them.”

Then, with a bit of hesitation, I added, “Hey, I was thinking… do you want to come over today? You can meet my bo- Logan, and meet Vanessa and Wade. We can have some cake and celebrate, but only if you don’t have plans with your folks or other friends.”

Laura’s face lit up with surprise and curiosity. “Really? I’d love to! I don’t have any big plans, just a small dinner with my parents later, but I can definitely come by before that.”

“Great! I think you’ll really like them,” I said, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. 

“I can’t wait,” Laura replied, her enthusiasm evident.

-

The hours passed by, and soon enough, the clock finally struck 5 PM. After a long day, it was time to close up the store. Laura and I locked up, and as we stepped outside, we both glanced toward the bakery next door.

“What flavor do you like?” I asked as we walked inside, the sweet aroma of freshly baked goods filling the air. Laura’s eyes widened as she took in the overwhelming selection of cakes.

“I think I’ll take the chocolate one with vanilla frosting and sprinkles,” she said, her smile brightening as she pointed to the cake.

“Perfect,” I agreed, and we made the purchase before heading home.

As we walked, the cake nestled safely in its box, I found myself deep in thought. Should I tell her now that I’m a mutant? Or would it be better to wait until later when she’s met everyone?

The decision weighed on my mind, and with each step, I tried to gauge the right moment. Laura was happily chatting about her plans for the evening, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil I was experiencing.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone to text Vanessa and Wade, asking them to come meet Laura—the girl I’ve been hiding from Wade because, well, for starters, he’s Wade, and two, she doesn’t know I’m a mutant. I didn’t want to put her in danger. Vanessa had met her once when she came to the flower shop on Laura's shift.

By the time we reached home, I still hadn’t made up my mind. I figured maybe I’d see how the evening unfolded, hoping the right moment would present itself.

We walked into my building and headed toward my apartment, a sense of unease starting to settle in my chest. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of something cooking drifting from the kitchen.

“I'm home,” I called out as I let Laura in, trying to keep things casual despite the strange tension building inside me.

"You never texted-" Logan looked up from the stove, and the moment his eyes fell on Laura, his expression froze. The color drained from his face, and his usual confident demeanor wavered. “Hey,” he managed, his voice tight, his eyes locked on Laura as if he’d seen a ghost.

Laura stood still, her own eyes widening with recognition and confusion. She looked at Logan, then at me, and back at Logan again. “You’re Violet’s Logan?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly, as if trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t quite make sense.

Logan stared at her, his mind clearly racing. “Laura?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Before the tension could snap, the door behind us swung open, and Wade and Vanessa strolled in, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere.

“What’s up, Laura?” Wade announced loudly as he held Dogpool, but then he stopped short, his eyes darting between Laura and Logan. “Well, I’ll be damned…”

I turned to Wade, feeling utterly lost. “Wade, how do you know her?”

Wade gave me a grin, completely out of place given the situation. “Oh, just that she’s Logan’s kid. No biggie.”

“What!?” I blurted out, trying to process the impossible. “Logan, you have a daughter? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Logan looked like he’d been hit by a freight train. “I didn’t know she was here, Violet. I didn’t know this Laura existed in this universe.”

Before Logan could continue, Wade jumped in, holding up a hand as if making a grand reveal. 

“Okay, so here’s the deal. This universe’s Logan? Dead. Kaput. Which is why our Laura here was left alone with no Logan. Surprise!”

Vanessa’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait, what? Logan has a daughter? And you knew about this, Wade?”

“Of course I knew, babe,” Wade said with a smirk. “But tracking her down was like trying to catch a greased pig at a rodeo."

I stared at Wade, my emotions swirling in confusion and disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell Logan?”

Wade shrugged, completely unfazed. “Because he didn’t know she was here. I figured it was better to keep things on the down-low until I could find her and put the pieces together. And hey, look at that—happy family reunion!”

“Wade, you’re impossible,” Vanessa muttered. 

Logan, still trying to process everything, turned to Laura. “Laura, I… I had no idea you were here.”

Laura shook her head, clearly overwhelmed. “I didn’t know about you either. I… I thought my Logan was gone.”

The room was thick with emotions, everyone trying to process the shock of the situation. I looked at Logan, trying to understand how all of this had been kept from me, and what it meant for us going forward.

The room was heavy with tension as the reality of the situation began to sink in. I looked at Logan, my mind racing with questions. “So… Jean’s her mom?” I asked, trying to piece together the puzzle.

Logan immediately shook his head. “No, Violet, it’s not like that—”

Before he could finish, Wade, ever the disruptor, jumped in with a grin. “Well, technically, it’s a bit more—”

Logan cut him off, his voice sharp. “Wade, shut up or I’ll slice your throat.”

Wade raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Alright, alright, no need to get all stabby. Just trying to help out here, but go ahead, Mr. Drama.”

Logan took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, but before he could speak, Laura stepped forward and faced me, her voice calm but firm. “Let me explain. They used Logan's DNA to create me. I’m not his daughter in the usual sense. I’m a mutant, just like him. That’s why I recognized him the moment I saw him because we have history.”

The air seemed to still as her words hung between us. I stared at Laura, trying to process what she’d just revealed. “You’re a mutant?” I asked, the shock evident in my voice. “Why didn’t you tell me Laura? Here I was, thinking I shouldn’t tell you that I’m a mutant because I didn’t want to put you in danger but you are one too." 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The room felt like it was spinning, but amidst the shock, I found a strange sense of relief—I wasn’t the only one who had been hiding something about being a mutant. “What do you mean you’re a mutant, just like him?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

Laura looked at me with a steady gaze, then at Logan, before turning back to me. “Let me show you,” she said calmly.

With that, she slowly closed her fist, her knuckles tightening. A moment later, three sharp, metallic claws extended from between her knuckles, identical to Logan’s. The sound of the claws unsheathing filled the room, a mix of metal scraping and something almost organic.

Vanessa gasped, her eyes wide with awe. “Wow…” she breathed, clearly taken aback by the sight.

The room fell silent, the reality of what we were seeing sinking in. Logan’s eyes were locked on Laura’s claws, a mix of recognition and pain flashing in his expression.

I stood there, staring at the claws, the shock still settling in. “You really are like him,” I whispered, the truth of it finally hitting home.

Laura slowly retracted her claws, the metal sliding back into her skin with a soft click. She looked at me, her eyes full of understanding and something that felt almost like a plea for acceptance.

"Yeah, I am,” she said quietly, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

The room was thick with tension, the reality of Laura’s revelation still settling in. I stood there, trying to process everything I’d just seen and heard, when suddenly, Wade broke the silence in the most Wade-like way possible.

“Well, who wants cake?” he blurted out, his grin wide as if we hadn’t just witnessed something life-changing.

Vanessa turned to him, a mix of exasperation and amusement on her face. “Wade, seriously?”

“What?” Wade shrugged, unbothered. “We’ve got claws, drama, and a family reunion. Seems like the perfect time to cut into that chocolate-vanilla-sprinkle goodness.”

Logan shot him a look, but there was a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, the tension easing just slightly. “Only you, Wade,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m just trying to keep things light. Plus, cake fixes everything, right?” Wade said, already moving toward the kitchen to grab the knife.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Yeah, Wade, sure. Let’s have some cake.”

Laura glanced at me, a hesitant smile forming on her face. “Cake sounds good,” she said softly, the tension in her shoulders starting to relax.

Just as Wade was about to hand out the first slice of cake, I quickly interjected. “Wait! We have to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ first!” I protested, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips despite everything.

Wade paused, holding the cake knife mid-air, and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, fine. Let’s do the traditional thing, then.”

Vanessa chuckled, clearly amused by the situation, and Logan gave me a small nod, appreciating the effort to bring a sense of normalcy back to the room.

We all gathered around the cake, with Laura standing at the center, clearly touched by the attention. Wade, with his usual over-the-top enthusiasm, started the song off-key and louder than necessary. “Haaaaaappy Biiiiirthdaaaay to yooooou!”

The rest of us joined in, laughing as we tried to keep up with Wade’s exaggerated performance. By the time we reached the end of the song, everyone was smiling, the heaviness of the earlier conversation momentarily forgotten.

Laura looked around at all of us, a genuine smile on her face as she blew out the single candle Wade had somehow managed to find and stick in the cake at the last minute.

“There, now we can have cake,” I said, feeling a little lighter, knowing that despite everything, we were here together, celebrating Laura’s special day.

Wade wasted no time in cutting generous slices and passing them around. As we all dug in, the atmosphere in the room grew a bit more relaxed, the sweetness of the cake acting as a balm to the intensity of the evening.

-

As the celebration continued in the living room, I quietly slipped away to my bedroom to change out of my work clothes. The evening had been a whirlwind, and I needed a moment to gather my thoughts. Just as I was pulling on a fresh shirt, the door creaked open, and I turned to see Logan standing there, his expression heavy with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice filled with regret. “I should have told you about her, but I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see her again.”

I looked at him, taking in the pain and uncertainty in his eyes. Despite everything, I understood where he was coming from. “Logan,” I said gently, “you don’t have to be sorry for anything. You couldn’t have known this would happen.”

He took a hesitant step closer, clearly searching my face for reassurance. “I just… I didn’t want to hide anything from you, but it felt like a part of my past that was gone, like something I couldn’t bring back.”

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “I get it. But now that she’s here, you have the chance to build a relationship with her. Take that opportunity, Logan. I think it would be good for her, but also for you.”

Logan sighed, a mix of relief and lingering guilt washing over him. “You really think so?”

I nodded, giving him a small, encouraging smile. “Yeah, I do. She’s been through a lot, and so have you. Maybe this is a chance for both of you to heal some old wounds.”

He looked at me, a flicker of hope in his eyes, and I could see the weight lifting from his shoulders just a bit. “Thank you, Violet. For understanding.”

I squeezed his arm gently. “You don’t have to thank me. We’re in this together, remember?”

He nodded, his expression softening as he pulled me into a hug, holding me close. “Yeah, we are.”

For a moment, we just stood there, holding onto each other, finding comfort in the quiet strength we shared. 

As Logan and I held each other, finding a brief moment of peace amidst the chaos, we suddenly heard scratching at the door. We both turned to look, and Logan let out a small sigh as he moved to open it.

The door swung open, and there she was—Wade’s dog, affectionately known as Ms. Dog Pool, wagging her tail excitedly. She immediately bolted toward me, her small paws tapping rapidly against the floor.

“What a cute little thing,” I said with a laugh, scooping her up and giving her a hug. Her soft fur and warm presence brought a smile to my face as I petted her.

Logan, however, looked less than thrilled. His expression was a mix of mild annoyance and resignation. “Of course, she had to find us,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly.

I glanced up at him, still holding Ms. Dog Pool close. “Oh, come on, Logan. She’s adorable,” I teased, scratching behind the dog’s ears as she snuggled into my arms.

Logan’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile, though the exasperation in his eyes didn’t entirely fade. “Yeah, yeah. Just try not to let her get too comfortable in here.”

“No promises,” I replied with a grin, kissing the top of Ms. Dog Pool’s head. She wriggled happily in my arms, completely content to be the center of attention.

Logan shook his head, but there was a softness in his expression that told me he wasn’t really upset. He just liked pretending to be grumpy. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan replied, shaking his head but with a softened expression.

Before we could move on, Laura, who had been quietly observing, suddenly spoke up. “Wait, if you’re a mutant too, Violet, what can you do?”

I glanced at group and with a small smile, I turned my attention to Ms. Dog Pool. I raised my hand, and with a subtle flick of my wrist, purple magic began to swirl around her. Slowly, Ms. Dog Pool lifted off the ground, floating in the air, surrounded by a soft, glowing aura.

“Careful with my dog or I’ll cut you!” Wade quickly interjected, his voice half-joking but with an edge of protectiveness. He rushed over to Ms. Dog Pool, who barked softly as she floated, clearly a little confused by what was happening.

I gently lowered the dog back down, releasing the magic as she settled safely onto the floor. Wade immediately scooped her up, cradling her like a baby. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he cooed, giving me a playful glare before turning his attention back to his dog. Ms. Dog Pool wagged her tail, barking once more as if to protest her brief airborne adventure.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head at Wade’s antics. “You’re such a softie when it comes to that dog,” he remarked, his tone teasing.

Wade shot him a mock-serious look. “Hey, she’s my best girl. Gotta keep her safe from all you crazy mutants.”

Laura, meanwhile, was watching with wide eyes, clearly impressed by what she’d just seen. “That’s… amazing,” she said softly, her gaze shifting between me and Logan. “I had no idea.”

I smiled, feeling a sense of connection with Laura as we both shared a part of ourselves with each other. “It took a lot of practice” I said modestly, but Laura shook her head.

“You do it so effortlessly,” she replied, her voice full of admiration.

Wade, still coddling Ms. Dog Pool, added with a grin, “Yeah, well, just remember—no more floating the dog, okay? She’s a ground creature.”

We all laughed, the tension of the earlier moments completely dissipating as we settled into a more comfortable and light-hearted atmosphere.

Part 10: Hide and seek

[deafsignifcantother]

if music be the food of love chapter three

♥ here you go lovies, it's series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter four ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 2.4k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: chapter summary: alastor is a bit uncomfortable with how close he is with reader, which has never happened before since their friendship was private, but now that she is in the hotel he realizes that he has a potential weakness ♥ no tag list rn :3

Every now and then, in the room across from you, quiet jazz would play, rich only under the sound of your music, but it still reeks of exclamation uncharacteristic of the music's Earthly presence. It's a blistering noise that requires the knock on a door to stop. The sight of Alastor whenever he opens his bedroom door at the interruption of a knock strikes fear into the other residents. His smile is deadly, and his eyes burn into his peers. They get reminded of his power.

His charming mystery.

.

And he made the dress less than six inches from you when you slept. After a stirless sleep, you wake up to a dress draped on the mattress by your feet. The first thing you notice is the lace layers that are guaranteed to itch your skin. Tonight is your welcome party, a last-minute plan (due to your sudden appearance). There will be no dress code, no inch of modesty, but Alastor decides himself that you will be covered. Suffice it to say it is not a surprise, especially considering he isn't a fan of modern nudity, puffy skirts with breasts peeking out, heels too high to walk comfortably on dirt, and so forth, and would throw up if he saw you in such. Possessive or protected?

What you want to reveal is no business with him (as if you really would). But you are ready for your life to be led by his smiles and soft touches, as your new public appearance will need guidance; you are ignorant of current times. Or that's what you tell yourself.

Your old clothes, once your trusted companions, are now reclined over the lounge chairs by the fireplace. They have transformed like you (how did you end up at the Hazbin Hotel after being a fierce overlord?) into something different, something less familiar. But still, a better thought fuels you: this is a chance to renew.

After dressing, loosening your collar, and fidgeting with the length of your sleeves, you enter the hallway, not at all shy but not confident enough to assert your presence. The first good morning to Alastor is the hardest. You quickly discover that it flusters you to greet him so close to the time when you wake up. By his smile, you just know that your music is playing a symphony; curse that thing.

Your mind wanders into a world of memories, the fancy clothes you used to dress him in, the smile he would give you, and your music conjures the same smile; that's where you remember it from.

"See?" He motions up and down you. "The most exquisite lady I've seen in my death."

You almost finish an eye roll before he grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. The movement is not prolonged at all but so swift that you barely have a chance to process it. The way he swiftly turns around, his head going before his body, hints as to why. He must pull away before anybody spots the affection.

There could have been a better banner, but Angel spilled paint over one of the corners, and Charlie spent a few minutes crying in the limited time. You stare up at it with amazement anyway. Whose handwriting is that? It's better than most of the overlords.

"I don't think I've ever painted a banner before," you sign to Alastor. He nods, looking up at it, his smile growing. You continue, "I wonder if they would have let me help."

"Your own welcome sign? Not a chance, though Charlie loves a group activity, perhaps it was a bonding exercise."

Charlie hops over at the sight of her name sign, finally overcoming the awkwardness and not wanting to interrupt a conversation. Somehow, she thinks ASL feels more personal. Well, as do most hearing people.

"Do you like it? Do you like it?" She signs in only two motions, her eyes bright when she sees you understand her.

You give a small smile, placing your hands on hers to calm her down, her touch is extremely warm, before signing. "Thank you so much for this, I feel very welcomed. You're so kind."

"Yes," a simple word as her eyebrows furrow slightly with frustration at her small vocabulary. "I tried!"

Your eyes look around at the people, each patiently waiting for you to initiate a conversation by walking up. Since when did they get so awkward?

The moment you walk away, Charlie turns her attention to Alastor.

You give Nifty a small smile, looking at the cookies she impatiently holds. In contrast, Angel holds onto her waist, ensuring she doesn't rush over to you the moment she sees you. She drops the tray when you approach conversation stops, and they rattle on the metal. Angel lets her go with a slight look of hesitation. He doesn't even acknowledge you.

"A dress! A beautiful one!" She runs her fingers down her own dress as a classifier.

You nod. "That's due to Alastor, he—"

"Worked his magic? Your red matches his."

"Does it?"

You turn around, glancing for a second at the shade of his suit and then down at your dress. You suppose, but it is a bit darker, though that might be due to velvet. What you notice is your matching sleeves. While looking back at Nifty, she immediately starts signing again. Angel stands awkwardly, unsure if he should walk away, but he pays attention to the signing anyway. Would he be willing to learn? You hope.

"How full is your closet? What do the dresses look like? Are they naughty?"

You pick up a cookie awkwardly, giving it a small bite and signing with one hand only for the first sentence. "Well, Alastor is the one who needs to fill my closet and he hasn't yet. I doubt he'd let me wear something he would consider distasteful."

"How dare he..." she squints her eye at him.

"Right?" The slight smile on your face is contagious enough to lighten her face.

"How's the cookie? Do you like it? I didn't put any roaches in it this time." An invisible laugh leaves her lips.

You look down at it momentarily, a bit skeptical, lifting it again. No insect legs are visible, but you still put it back down, no longer taking bites. You started the day with the same soft classical music from your heart, but now it is a more jolly sound. Praying that you don't start making Angel uncomfortable, you give a small wave, which he returns. Then Husk comes to save the day with a freshly opened bottle in his hand while he signs with the other.

"Ain't seen a lick of sign language before."

"You hadn't either."

He smirks, the friendliness catching you a bit off guard. "First time for everything."

With the most neutral face you can muster in such a friendly environment, you begin to turn away. "Of course there is."

The air lightens as you turn back around, letting Husk and Angel have their conversation. Charlie is still excitedly talking to Alastor, copying his signs, and surprisingly so is Vaggie.

Once they notice you're watching, they stop. Charlie puts her hands behind her back and smiles awkwardly as if she had been caught in an act.

Less than ten minutes later, the event feels tiresome. Having Alastor interpret for you and dealing with hearing people attempting to sign becomes unbearable. Just like at the overlord meetings, you and Alastor side-eye each other constantly. The only positive you can think of is that Husk is not hiding away.

"Awfully tiring," says Alastor, crossing his legs from the couch where he sits next to you. "Why must I be subjected to these superficial conversations."

His claw circling around his knuckles is smooth enough to allure your interest. His hands are so careful, so lovely. Hiding your interest, you give him your usual small smile.

In your imagined scenarios, you can force a yawn and say you are going to bed, and Alastor would be there to tuck you in as he did years ago. Perhaps you'd wake up to a bouquet of dead roses. Foolish girl, you can almost imagine him telling you if he were a mind reader.

As you look around again, scanning to ensure no one has been trying to get your attention, Vaggie's eyes connect with yours. Her brow raises in recognition, understanding. Your shoulders stiffen, and the shame pulsating in your heart is the worst feeling in the world. But that is before Charlie captures your attention again, flashing her same old smile and hopping up and down.

And then she motions behind you. Angel brings out a cake, holding it steadily, looking down at it with a bit of jealousy. Instead of helping when the cake was baking, Angel stood at the kitchen doorway and watched how the residents came together. He was invited to help of course, but he hated what they were celebrating.

You can't help but let your eyes widen. The cookies and now this?

While you wait for Charlie to get ahold of herself and her squeals (as if the cake was made for her), you stand and hold your hands in front of you, not exactly understanding what to do at this moment. Nifty comes to distract you, climbing up your body and fiddling with the collar of your dress. You let her.

"I hope it's good," Charlie figures out how to say. "We cooked together, for you!"

Charlie believes in ending a day with something that can make somebody smile. And here you are, smiling at her, not caring to hide your facial expressions. Your music exposes your emotions enough.

The cake gets placed on the table in front of the couches, and you sit on the carpet, legs folding under you. Your soon-to-be friends huddle around. Will they trust you with a knife? Apparently so, and you make sure to hold it carefully. You're not going to let your status as an ex-overlord scare them enough to not trust you with something as simple as a knife. It slices perfectly, the cake having a perfect texture, looking so soft inside. Your hand twitches, your claws digging a bit into your palm, but not noticeable enough to worry anyone. Is this a trap? No, Charlie wouldn't allow that. But what if this is why Husk has been so friendly.

You finish slicing, managing to cut it evenly. It reminds you of the living world, the times you've watched people cut cakes, especially as a kid. Alastor doesn't mind your souring mood until he notices that your melodies are transitioning into a minor key. In an instance, unconsciously (well, regrettably subconsciously), he uses his shadows to form next to you, leaning in close while taking the knife from your hand and spinning it, making it disappear into flames. The overall mood hasn't changed, but the moment he moves to summon a plate, your eyes lock on his movements. Alastor has gotten so considerate towards you that he touched something so sweet, holding the plate in his hand with a fork.

It happens, something unpredictable.

Everybody watches as he lifts a bite and holds it to your lips. You blink before your eyes brighten. Just like that, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the fork, your focus sharpening; everybody is watching. It distracts you from basking in the enchanting taste.

"Excellent," he puts the plate down and puts all his effort into not grimacing at the sight of it. "Wasn't that nice?"

You hold your breath, determining whether that is rhetorical or sarcastic. You go along with it, shrugging and leaning a bit forward, tilting your head, something you used to do when you wanted him to touch his forehead with yours.

You pretend he does, closing your eyes to ignore his stiff posture, and you pull away.

Charlie mends you with a gaze as kind as an innocent child. Something passes between you two. Is your attraction to him that obvious? Curses.

That's the most sinister part of Hell.

He walks you to your bedroom just as you hoped he would, but he doesn't step inside. He does wrap his arms around you, though, his voice vibrating against your body. Stop speaking, you want to say, but you don't dare pull away. All you can do is drown in the gratefulness of the once-ordinary affection. His constant withdrawal is obvious, and of course you understand why. But you assumed behind closed doors he would revert back to the lovely language you two share. But no, he doesn't. He doesn't even try.

Pulling away involves letting go of the warmth of his body. You already miss the feeling of his breathing. He puts a hand behind your neck and does what you crave the most, rests his forehead against yours. His bangs brush your hairline, and you smile.

"Thank you," you sign. Alastor's smile grows, becoming soft, and his eyes flicker around, his shadow spinning down the hall before he takes your hand, just like in the morning. He presses his lips to your knuckles, closing his eyes and exhaling while he pulls away. With the moment of eye contact, his hand slips away from you, and without further words, he leaves into his room.

Your bedroom feels especially empty when you close the door in front of him. That's not the way it should be.

The large window attached to your room hardly offers a view of the beautiful city. This hill should be high enough to spot the different sections, but the huge buildings within the middle of the city shields a lot of the environment.

You only get three steps closer to the window when you worry he's just standing in front of your door. It's such a pointless thought, a momentary wish. Maybe he is waiting for you to realize his presence and offer him entrance. But when you open it, you're met with nothing, nobody. Unfortunate.

You need to stop fantasizing like a little girl.

You decide to distract yourself with the privilege of staying at such a prestigious building.

You cut through the sign on the roof toward the dark red lining of the end of the roof. Awestruck, your eyes widen, and you halt in place. You can see the entire Pentagram Circle from high above, and your music gets loud enough to hear from the ground. The different gradients of red you would have never been able to see until now reflect in your eyes, the same way moonlight would. A cool breeze messes with the lace on your sleeves and rubs against your skin as you knew it would when you put the dress on.

When the rare clouds begin to hide the lighting from the radiant Pentagram above, the breeze starts to freeze, and Heaven's clock becomes the brightest light. Back inside you go. As always.

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Five

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here

a/n: i had so much fun writing this with all the internal struggle cassie’s facing currently, and with what happens at the end of chapter xx

word count: 5903

tw: mention of sex (i think it’s going to be a constant warning from now on), swearing?? (that one too), use of alcohol, mention of drugs, skipping meals

summary: drifting away and bottling feelings up takes a toll on cassie and starts to shut down

<previous chapter

dividers by @chachachannah

The next day, being the first day of lessons and a Friday, I'm sitting with Ki, Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo at the Slytherin table, eating breakfast. I'd lie if I said I didn't miss Hogwarts' food.

"Miss Black," I hear McGonagall's voice from behind and I turn to look at her. "Some habits never change, do they?" she points out how I'm sitting at the Slytherin table again as she hands me my timetable. Her facial expressions aren't bitter because of it like my housemates'. I think she's just glad the rivalry isn't a hundred percent true.

After thanking her for handing me my timetable I look at the paper in my grip.

"What do you have today?" Ki peeks over my shoulder and answers herself as her gaze scans through my timetable: free period, Herbology, DADA, free period. I finish early on Fridays, I state to myself relievedly. "DADA. With that creepy-eyed old man?"

I must let out a short chuckle at her declaration.

"Some habits should change," exclaims a voice behind us, in a tone of boredom. I swear McGonagall and Snape share a brain. I mutter the professor a 'good morning,' then he places the timetable in front of Kiara next to me. "Your timetable, Miss Bianchi." He then hands the timetables to the boys as well.

"Thank you, professor," Kiara says clearly, with the most charming smile she could ever put on, Snape then turns away with a dull and strict expression.

This man takes away the leftover will I have to live, honestly.

"The only reason I was willing to come back to Hogwarts," Ki exclaims in a lovey-dovey tone and a matching gaze that makes me want to vomit. I share a look with the boys – they think the same.

I slide our timetables next to each other on the table, observing them both to know what classes we have together.

"I needn't get up," Ki grunts when pointing at the free period today: it's free for the both of us. What's more, she's got a free second period with the boys as well while I'm having Herbology. This means I'm not going to have any Herbology lessons with the Slytherins this year. Which means...

"Oh, I'm fucked," I let out a big, troubled sigh, to which Kiara looks at me with a questioning expression, the boys also peering over the table and Enzo over my shoulder. I just point at Friday's second period. She lets out a laugh and nudges me with her elbow, the others looking for some sort of explanation.

"You won't have Flower-boy helping you during lessons, huh?"

"Fuck off, I'm gonna fail this year."

To that, she just shakes her head and waves me off. She knows I won't fail. I do too.

"I'll just help in the afternoons," Enzo murmurs to me with a sweet smile, still leaning over my shoulder and I mutter him a thank you in response.

Enzo and I have studied a lot in the greenhouses over the years, just sitting on the floor. Well, I've been the one studying and he was the one who's been talking all the time, about flowers and herbs, of course. But I've always loved listening to him and hearing what this or that flower means when given to someone and which herb you could make Wolfsbane Potion out of, for example. He's always had an interesting way of explaining things I had no clue about — no wonder I passed with an E every year in Herbology.

Today, we were here to celebrate our birthdays. I mean, neither of us celebrates their birthday today or this week; both of us were born in August but we couldn't manage to meet up during summer so we had to be creative.

I got him a book about magical flowers, his favourite sweets, I baked his favourite cookies with a little bit of help from the house elves in the kitchen, and gave him a framed picture of us. In the picture, we are seen last school year. It was taken by Ki on a winter Hogsmeade Saturday in the record store. The picture is moving, thanks to magic, capturing perfectly how we are dancing to the music. Although it can't be heard in the picture, I remember we were dancing to 'Crocodile Rock' by Elton John, which is one of his favourite muggle songs.

I step into my dorm room, finding Ki on my bed, messing with my guitar.

"When I said 'you can come anytime,' I didn't exactly mean when I'm not here," I set my bag down next to my desk, smiling lightly at the girl.

"Flower," she points at me with a frown. "Who got you... it was Enzo, wasn't he?" she smirks as I'm hanging the yellow chrysanthemum up upside down to dry it. I just nod, feeling a little bit bad and guilty. "Why the face?"

To that, I pull the necklace out from under my shirt. She gestures to me to come over to her  — she wouldn't get up even if there was an earthquake.

For my birthday, Enzo got me that beautiful chrysanthemum and a silver necklace in the shape of the constellation Cassiopeia with a small sun-shaped charm hanging on the left side of the constellation, basically by her feet as she is depicted horizontally.

"Pretty. Why the face?" she looks up into my eyes, my guitar in her hands, still, resting on her thighs as she repeats the question.

"Because it's silver. Silver. Pure silver — you know how much that costs?" I start walking up and down in the room, practically freaking out because of guilt.

"Cass, you do realize you could easily buy that too, don't you?"

"I know! I know I could but you know what I got him? Biscuits! And a book and a picture! And that's it! And he got me a silver necklace and that gorgeous flower!" I run a frustrated hand through my hair. "What, now I should buy him a Swatch? This boy is insane!"

"No, he's just rich. And so are you. And so am I, what about it? You could just buy him, what, Honeydukes," Ki shakes her head, clearly not understanding my problem. "The whole shop, I mean."

"No, Ki. I know I have some money but that's not the point. He got me all these and I got him stupid little things. A bloody picture is what I gave him!"

"I took that 'bloody picture,' show some respect," she points at me with raised eyebrows, offended by the adjective I used.

"Right. But he got me expensive jewellery," I sigh, looking at the necklace through the mirror.

"Yeah, the boy's head over hells for you."

"That's heels," I correct her, admiring the silver guiltily.

"I prefer hell so it stays that," she shrugs as she starts strumming the intro of 'Highway To Hell' on the guitar, making me laugh.

I shake my head, looking back at her, the charm between my fingers, "How do I thank him for this?"

"Wear it. And let him shag you. You like the necklace?" she asks and I nod, rolling my eyes at her comment about having sex with Enzo. I walk over to my bed and drop myself down onto my back.

Enzo knows how much of an obsession I have with astronomy and names; he thought it would be the perfect gift for me as Cassiopeia is my first name, as it's clear from the constellation hanging in my neck. And my middle name is Apollonia, meaning 'belonging to Apollo,' the Greek god of music, poetry, archery, and the sun — that's why the sun charm by Casiopeia's feet.

Ki gets up from my bed, taking my guitar as if it was hers. She stops by the door when she's already opened it, looking at me, "Don't forget 'bout tonight," then, making sure I nod, she closes the door, disappearing behind it and I stay there in my room, alone with my thoughts.

I promised her to attend the party later in the Slytherin common room; the first one of the year.

Slytherin parties have always been of the kind you see on TV. Drugs from the Hufflepuff students, the common room smelling of that and cigarettes, alcohol, and sweat, people dancing to the music, making out either in the crowd or in a secluded corner, or shagging elsewhere, locked away in the dorms. And if you weren't a Slytherin student, you must befriend one for invitation, and to be given the password.

This is my first time attending one of these, actually, but not my first time being in the Slytherin common room. I've never been much for drinking, which people would consider me dull and a prude for. But for Merlin's balls, I'm barely fifteen. I walk past a few students, then get myself a plastic cup of whatever alcohol gets in my reach before I make my way to my group of friends.

I plop down onto the armrest of the couch next to Ki who's sitting on the couch itself. It's only Ki and Theo yet, Enzo and Mattheo are nowhere to be seen.

"Thought at least you'd dress up," Theo smirks with a suggestive, cocky grin and I roll my eyes.

"I'm not dressing up for you," I raise my cup to my mouth.

"C'mon, would it really hurt giving up on this tomboyish shit for one night?" he nudges me.

"Would it hurt not to try and take your friends to bed?" I snap at Theo annoyedly. It's not that I don't want to give up on this 'tomboyish shit.' Wearing these rather large and loose clothes simply feels nice, I don't have to worry about my body and don't have to sit with my arms covering all the body parts I'm insecure about.

I then look at Ki when I feel the girl tugging on the sleeve of my t-shirt. She's sitting next to me in a pair of sweats and a big T-shirt — she's never been one to wear at least jeans and probably never will be either. The look on her face tells me more than words would ever do and I almost know what she's thinking.

Ki turns back to face Theo and in an instant, she pulls her shirt up just enough to reveal her boobs to the boy's eyes, earning a gobsmacked look from Theo that's replaced by a mischievous grin in no time. And the ones surrounding us? They cheer and whistle at her, getting a furious look from me that screams 'Look at her like that and say goodbye to your nuts' in return.

"Want me to taste them?" a boy from behind the couch Theo's sitting on, who's a year ahead of us, Adrian Pucey, says with a devilish grin. But all his comment does is earn Pucey a punch in his face by a furious Theodore Nott flying over the backrest of the couch before Ki could even respond.

The students nearby all gather around us and Ki and I jump up from the couch too to see Theo and Pucey wrestle on the floor, accompanied by the sounds of the boys' insults, huffs, grunts, and finally, the sound of Pucey's nose breaking. In the meanwhile, nobody is doing anything besides yelling encouraging words at the boys to kill one another.

"What's happening?" I feel Mattheo's warm, alcoholic breath on my neck as the boy is trying to yell louder than the crowd around us.

I can barely even process the information myself as we are still only watching the boys but by the time I realize someone should do something about the boys on the ground, Theo is already up on his feet with bloody knuckles and a bruised face.

"Ki's flashed Theo and Pucey made a comment about her boobs, so Theo punched him," I explain briefly to Mattheo, looking into those deep brown eyes while Kiara is talking to Theo in an irritated tone about how she could've defended herself.

"And now they're going to bed," Matt points in our friends' direction but by the time I look there I can only see their backs turned to us, both gesturing fiercely to the other while Theo's pulling Ki furiously into the direction of the dorms to continue their argument there. Witnessing their arguments I never know if they'll end up throwing punches or snogging. "Bet they'll get together."

I shake my head, the both of us still looking in the direction where they've just gone, "Just sex."

"Three galleons," he turns to me with a vigorous grin and his hand stretched out for a shake.

"I'm in," I shake his hand with a smirk after a few seconds of thinking.

Mattheo gets asked by a Slytherin girl to dance, so I'm just standing there with the cup of alcohol in my grip, leaning against a wall, and watching the scene in front of me escalate. The girl in question is Daphne Greengrass from a year below us. I can't help but feel jealousy arise in me as I watch her shiny, straight blonde hair and that pretty face on which not a single pimple ever shows up. Not to mention her slender figure and how her body's just starting to be more feminine but how mature she already looks — of course, my friend said yes to a dance. He'd have been stupid not to. She's the type to make me want to turn invisible or bury myself alive in shame as my insecurities take over me. Feeling small and left out now that Mattheo's having a dance with that gorgeous girl, Ki and Theo doing Merlin-only-knows-what behind closed doors (I have a few guesses), and how Enzo's never showed up, embarrassment and an uncomfortable feeling grow on me, telling me to back away and head to my dorm instead.

The next morning, I'm just playing with my scrambled eggs at the table, opposite Mattheo and Enzo, Theo on my right. They are talking about something, but I'm so zoned out that I can't even make out what it's all about.

"Cass," Theo pokes my side and I jump away about half a metre at the impulse. It took me by surprise and there are no girls who like to be poked in the side and no one can tell me otherwise. "You quiet."

"I'm fine," I shrug as I put my fork down. I don't want to talk about anything right now. "Where's Ki?"

For one, she is a lazy person and despises waking up, that's for sure. But she's never late. It's been ten minutes since she should've shown up.

"And why should I know that?" Theo raises his brows, to which Mattheo and Enzo share a look.

Enzo didn't show up at the party yesterday and I left shortly after Mattheo didn't come back from that dance with Daphne after minutes that seemed long and lonely hours to me, and Theo, well, he went away to argue with Kiara. And I felt left out, that's why I left instead.

Without an answer or any further explanation, I get up from the table and walk down to the Dungeons and into Ki's dorm room through the Slytherin common room.

"You up?" I open the door without knocking and make my way over to the bed.

"Let me die," she groans, and I can't help the little smile crossing my lips.

"Not today. You have to get up."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," I sit down on the edge of the bed and run a hand through her hair as a form of encouragement.

"Can't."

"C'mon, get up."

"But I can't," she whines, looking up at me with desperation in her eyes.

"Yes, you can. Or what, you got shagged?" I tease her. We've been through this little back-and-forth a few times before.

Silence.

This is enough proof for me and my eyes widen at the revelation. Who- Theodore Nott, who else?

"You and Theo?" I ask finally, after a few seconds of silence and she nods.

Suddenly a weird feeling washes over me. It's something I can't really explain, something I can't depict with words just yet. Just knowing she's done it... I feel old, all of a sudden. It's so weird. No, I'm weird.

"But it's casual," she shakes her head and sits up cursing as to why her muscles are so sore and I can't fight back an amused chuckle, although my eyes still aren't very sincere.

It takes some time and a few encouraging words but I persuade her to get up and we make our way up to the Great Hall. The boys aren't there by the time we sit down. They hate waiting, of course, they ate their breakfast and went their own way.

"Aren't you eating?" Kiara snaps me out of my thoughts as she's eating her cold cuts.

"Ate already," I shake my head with a faint smile as I lie, the scrambled eggs I put on my plate are still there, untouched, a few seats away. I just can't wrap my mind around how she and Theo have had sex. I mean, I know I made that stupid bet yesterday. But I didn't mean it a slight bit. At least not yet. Why am I still thinking about it? It's not even my business.

Trying not to fall behind immediately on the first week, I'm studying in the library with headphones on, when Kiara and Enzo sit down across me at my table. They've been out, Ki and Theo haven't talked all day and Enzo and Mattheo seem to have fallen out a bit these days, only interacting when necessary.

They seem to have bumped into Professor Moody, judging by Kiara's next sentence.

"This man's a creep," exclaims Ki which Enzo's traumatized expression only confirms as he slumps on the chair. "And that eye — I swear it has x-ray function."

Looking up from my book, I just nod with an unreadable expression. I agree with them about how weird Moody is, but I say nothing. Ki looks at me, concerned.

"Why so quiet?"

"I swear you and Theo are the same," I refer to the boy pointing out I was quiet at breakfast in a tired voice. She frowns and Enzo furrows his brows.

"Cass-" he'd start but I shake my head.

"I'm fine. Just tired, is all," I run a hand through my hair.

That's not true, though. I mean, yes, I'm tired. I always am. But I'm just not in the mood for socializing, not up for any company today. Not at all up for their company today, even if they are my best friends. Maybe I'm just selfish, maybe it is wrong to feel this way, but I can't help it; jealousy and a sense of betrayal creep upon me. There's also this thought in my head all day, about running out of time. Not having been kissed yet, not ever having been drunk, not one fag smoked — all my friends have done either some or all of these and even more. Not that I couldn't do it, but shouldn't my first kiss be, well, special? With someone I truly love. Or maybe I'm naive for still believeing in true love.

"I think I'll take a nap," I stand up from my chair and pack my things into my backpack.

"What's up with her?" I hear Enzo ask Ki quietly as I'm walking in the direction of the door.

"No idea," Ki sighs with concern in her voice.

Late at night, I'm sitting by the window with my notebook laid up against my thighs as I'm writing into it, head laid against the cool glass of the window sideways as I'm listening to the storm outside, watching the lightning when I hear an urgent knock on my door. Getting shaken out of my thoughts, I look up with a frown. I don't know if I have really heard that or if I'm just hallucinating. The line of short knocks is repeated and I get up from my sitting and walk over to the door that reveals a trembling, sweating Mattheo.

"Matt-"

"Can I come in?" he asks in a shaky voice, on the verge of crying, and I nod and step away from the door to let him in.

"What happened?" I ask in a concerned, worried tone as I watch him pace back and forth in my room with that same scared look on his face that I used to have as a kid when I always ran to my mum's room after I'd had a nightmare. The memories of these nights are still living rent-free in my head; telling my mother I have had a nightmare and her comforting me, telling me it'll be alright, telling me no one wants to hurt me.

"I-I had a nightmare," the answer echoes in the quiet of the night my room holds. I reach my hand out for him, my instincts kicking in; he's just a boy, breaking down in front of me- no, he's my friend who's come to me for support. And my heart's breaking that I'm seeing him like this.

"C'mere." Mattheo doesn't need any more reassurance that he can trust me with this, he closes the distance between us and still trembling, now even letting his tears run across his cheeks like rivers, he wraps his strong arms around me and so do I, rubbing his back as I hug him close, afraid he'd slip through my grip if I weren't.

"I-it was awful. He came at me and..." he sobs into the crook of my neck, barely able to squeeze a full sentence out of himself. I just run a hand through his hair, damp from his sweating, to comfort him.

"I told him I-I won't join his boy band. And he... he used a curse," by the time he gets through telling me his rather traumatic experience, dream-his interaction with his father, his voice cracks and lowers into a painful whisper.

"It's okay," I hug him tighter, and to that, he squeezes me more against himself as well. "It was just a dream."

"But it felt so real," he trembles again, shaking in his whole body as he holds me so tight.

I don't let go of him, nor does he break the contact either.

"I-I-I'm sorry I just came to you without anything... and for having you listen to this shite. It's just... only you know about it and I don't want to worry Theo," he pulls back to look at me after a few moments of him being comforted by me and me being comforted by the long hug we shared. It was much needed for me too.

"Don't be silly," I chuckle softly and shake my head. "You're not a burden. And I'm glad you came to me," I squeeze his arm reassuringly.

Minutes later, we're sitting on the cool wooden flooring, our backs against the walls that have the window in-between, just calming him down as we watch the storm outside, listening as the heavy rain crashes against the window, gifting us with the music of nature itself.

"Haven't seen you all day," Mattheo exclaims after some time of just staring off into the void, probably trying to cool down after the nightmare.

"Been at the library."

"Yeah, Ki told. But after that?"

"Took a nap."

He frowns. I can tell what he's thinking just by the way he looks at me, his eyes shining in the dim light of the night as the moon is peeping through the clouds, trying to steal the night back to have all the attention to himself.

"You haven't come down for dinner either," he points out, trying not to sound too concerned.

"Slept it through."

"Cassie-"

"No. I'm fine. Stop worrying about me," I sigh and look out the window. I don't know what to say after this. I feel like I've killed the mood as well.

"Okay. Sorry," he mutters and I leave it at it, not saying anything else. I would say something to not be sitting here with a friend in complete silence but it feels as if I had no thoughts. No feelings and no thoughts, except for the ones about yesterday. I feel empty, completely vacant, like the bottles of firewhisky consumed the day before in the Slytherin common room.

I want to ask him how that dance with Daphne went. I also want to ask him what happened after I left yesterday (but I'm not even sure if he'd noticed I sneaked back to my dorm), if he knows where Enzo was (which I could just ask from the guy in question, but again, it's not my business). But lacking of words to express all these thoughts and feelings that frame the thoughts about last night, it's just easier to keep them to myself as I can't find the right way to phrase and voice them.

"It was the Cruciatus Curse. The one he used in my dream," he says after seconds of silence when he realizes I'm not going to denote any of my possible thoughts, trying to sound neutral about it but his tired voice cracks once again and it comes through more as one filled with concern and some fear.

Opening my eyes, I have to think through what happened last night. Mattheo came up for comfort after he'd had a nightmare and after I refused to talk about what was bothering me, as an unspoken agreement we decided to sail onto lighter waves and talk about casual stuff; films, the Triwizard Tournament, music and avoided talking about school at all costs because it could've been traced back to his nightmares through how he's relieved to be back at Hogwarts after a summer all-too-long with Theodore Nott Sr., and the unforeseen events of the World Cup that still haunt me.

So, he insisted on going through my collection of vinyl and mixtapes. Most of the vinyls are from the attic at home; I've found some David Bowie, Queen, The Clash, and T. Rex albums up, in a box with the label only being "G.P.12" written with big, capital letters. I assume these are the stuff dad's listened to before he died. When I found the box I immediately took it to my room to go through the collection. I've been listening to them all summer long — much to Kiara's exasperation — and definitely have grown fond of them in the time being.

My music taste mostly consisted of the kind of rock that teens usually listen to when they're first met by some good rock songs and decide 'This is not music taste, this is a lifestyle' only to grow bored after listening to these few songs by the given artists for months on repeat. I mostly listened to AC/DC before, mixed with some Nirvana, Guns N' Roses, Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Aerosmith, and Led Zeppelin. But only their top hits — basic, aren't I? I mean, my mixtape I've been listening to on repeat, wearing it out to the point it almost broke, and consisting of Back In Black, Highway To Hell, Hell's Bells, T.N.T, Thunderstruck, Sweet Child O' Mine, Paradise City, I Was Made For Lovin' You, Smells Like Teen Spirit, Welcome To The Jungle, Immigrant Song, Paranoid and The Trooper should be considered a unique taste that totally describes me, right?

That was until this summer when my taste in music got turned upside down, almost completely by finding out I'm more into glam, and the more singable and melodic (and queer) side of rock.

So, Mattheo insisting on going through my vinyl and tapes is what ended in us falling asleep while the record was still playing. And it is also what results in me waking up in the morning on a mountain of tapes, my legs tangled up with the boy's. I sit up and take notice of how he's sleeping on the other end of the bed, on his back. I just watch for a few seconds, taking in how peaceful he's looking, just for once in a lifetime; no forehead wrinkling, no tense facial muscles, just a relaxed, calm expression as he's sleeping soundly, unaware of his surroundings. I watch as his chest rises and falls when breathing, how he occasionally takes a deeper, sharper inhale, releasing stress even in his sleep.

Cass, stop.

You're being a creep. He's your friend, you can't be just staring at him while he's asleep. In your dorm, in your bed.

Our legs are still touching.

With a sigh, I pull my leg away from on top of his and as I start to get up to stretch, I realize that he is indeed in my dorm and he couldn't be farther away from where he's supposed to be.

His dorm. In the Slytherin area.

Because right now, he's in the Gryffindor Tower and there's no way no one will notice if he just leaves like this. For Merlin's sake, how on earth have I got into this? Not that I care for my own good about what my housemates would think of me if they ever saw him walk out of my dorm like this, through the common room, it's not the case. But there are already too many rumours about us, all rude ones and I don't think we'd ever need more.

I look at the clock; it's 7:58, on a Sunday. The common room is filled with people.

I let out a sigh and go over to the bed to wake Mattheo up. But he just rolls over to his stomach and tells me to fuck off. After trying to be nice a few more times but getting the same response and even nudging him doesn't work, I decide to use the same technique I usually use on Kiara.

Turning my back to him, I lie down on top of him, my limbs hanging on the two sides. He finally takes notice of this and mutters in a calm tone. "What are you doin'?"

"Trying to wake you up," I reply in the same undisturbed tone as I'm staring up at the ceiling.

"Isn't working," he murmurs back and when he isn't moving, I take the initiative of the situation and get up, practically straddling him as I kneel up by the two sides of his hips and start to continuously (gently, may I add before someone said I'm abusing my friend) hit him. But when he only lets out a grunt, I lean forward and bite his arm. To that, his eyes open.

"Finally," I state satisfied, and just as I am about to get off of him, he rolls over to his back and pulls me back down and in a second, he's towering over me. I can feel his breath on me when he pins my wrists to the mattress.

"Did you really bite me?" he asks with furrowed eyebrows in a slightly playful tone, and I nod, trying not to become flustered at the positioning as I can feel his warm breath on my collarbones, his hands gripping my wrists and his hips brushing up against mine.

"You didn't respond to anything else," I smirk playfully, mixed with a sense of innocence.

"Why even did you wake me up?" he then looks over at the clock on my bedside table and groans when he sees it's only 8:07. "Ugh, Cassie."

"Shut up, you have to get out of here unnoticed," I try to free my wrists of his grip and he frowns, not understanding why he has to get out with no one noticing he's ever been here. I then tell him how weird it would get, how many new rumours we'd start, and stuff. I really do not need to be in the spotlight right now.

This is what results in me going over to Harry and Ron's dorm to borrow the well-known invisibility cloak from my friend. And this is what ends up with Mattheo and I under it, trying not to slide down the stairs as we both want to be the navigators. It all goes smoothly until Seamus and Dean make their way up the narrow staircase and we have to press up against the wall — and against each other. The next time we almost get caught is when I nearly trip on the hem of the cloak and Mattheo catches me, holding me tight against himself and I pretty much get a heart attack at his closeness again. What is up with me today?

Anyhow, we make it out of the Gryffindor common room and get into a secluded corner of the other corridor so that we can take the cloak off without being caught.

"You're really not as dumb as I initiated," he nudges me with a devious grin under the cloth and I smack his arm but I'm not able to hide a smirk from forming and Matt pulls the cloak off us. This is when I take notice of a familiar mop of brown hair passing by the entrance of the corridor and I shove Mattheo inside a nearby broom closet, almost tripping in the small, dark space.

After shaking himself out of astonishment, Mattheo grins at me and starts to tease me.

"Princess, we could've just stayed in your dorm. Your bed would've been much comfier to-"

"I'm not having sex with you, Mattheo Riddle," I poke him in the chest, practically pressing him against the wall behind him, and just when I say the word regarding physical contact with another person, the door opens, revealing two of our friends, about to burst out laughing, stating our close proximity with two of those charming Italian grins.

My cheeks flush out of embarrassment as I look at Ki and Theo and a stupid grin spreads across Mattheo's lips as well, mirroring the two, one of the kind that makes me really want to jinx him.

"She just jumped at me," Matt exclaims as if he were a victim of my desires, earning a sting from me on his arm hanging between us. "Ow. See? Feisty, this one."

"In a broom cupboard? Bold choice," Kiara grins and I shoot her a glare, a mix of frustration and fluster.

"And the initiator as well," Theo teases, and with a sigh and a grunt, I go to shove past them and leave. It's too early for this shit. Mattheo will explain to them what happened, anyway.

"Leaving without a kiss?" Mattheo calls after me and I can feel my blood boiling. I let my impulsive behaviour take over me as I turn around, and without thinking, I grab the back of his head and pull him down to crash my lips against his. He provoked me, he got what he wanted...

...Or have I taken it too far?

But the kiss only lasts a second, until I realize what I've done. Not giving him any time to react; to pull me more into the kiss or conversely, push me away, I break away from the boy, leaving him surprised, cursing in my head, and ignoring my friends' calls, I start running back to my dorm.

What have I done?

thank you if you made it this far! comment to be on the tag list.

+ a little something my dearest @inksoakedparchment made:

tag list: @reyys-letters @mqstermindswift @inksoakedparchment @sweetcolorfulies

[seasidefae]

bae when r u gonna update the carcar fic? cuz i've been craving for ur writing

hello lovely, by tomorrow i'll have the new chapter up!

here's a sneak peek:

“Can I ask you something?” “Anything.” “Are we happy?” “Yes,” Oscar starts unsurely, but then he says, with more firmness, “Yes. We are. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows. I can’t say we’ve never fought. I can’t say you never get angry with me or I with you. What I can say is that we’ve— Every day, I choose to love you and it’s the best decision I make. It’s the one I’m happiest with no matter how fucked up my day is. I think you were pretty happy, too.” He sounds so fond, but it does the opposite effect on Carlos. Instead of relief, he feels dread. Guilt is clawing up its way in his chest and there is no right way to settle it. As Carlos lays down on the bed, he takes deep calming breaths. “I cannot say it back,” he mumbles. “I know,” Oscar replies quietly. “I don’t think I can right now.” Or ever. He doesn’t fucking know. “I know, Carlos. It’s OK.” Oscar laughs wetly. “You’re alive. You’re here. That’s all I care about right now.”

[hopepetal]

Masterlist

Read on AO3!

Part Eight!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! :)

@applestruda

CW: broken bones and blood

Many thanks to Elle Periwinklemoonlight for giving me several ideas for this chapter, and Mochi for helping me with some of Mumbo's dialogue <3

Mumbo had always liked sunsets. 

He'd never been that big a fan of sunrises. Don't get him wrong, they were pretty and all! But the only times he had been awake to see the sun rise at all was when he had been up all night working on some sort of contraption. The early morning light had forced its way through any crack it could find and pulled Mumbo's attention away from his work, alerting him to the fact that he'd lost track of time and was about to have a very bad day. 

(Look, his stomach was sensitive! If he didn't get enough sleep, he'd get all nauseous and lose his appetite the next day. One would think that would be enough of a reason to not stay up all night, but there was a difference between being smart and making smart decisions.)

Anyway! Where was he? Oh, right. The sun. Fascinating thing, really. Some might even call it essential! Most people would, actually. Mumbo certainly did. 

Sunrises had always been something Mumbo only saw every once in a while, and dreaded every time. The first rays of light peeking over the mountains were a taunting reminder of one's folly. And with the rise of the sun came the song of the birds, declaring in their high pitched tremolo that it was time to wake up and go about one's day. 

Scar had asked Grian what the birds were saying once, over their lovely lunch which was actually just breakfast for the late risers. Grian had given him the most deadpan stare Mumbo had ever witnessed (and that was saying something– he'd known Doc, after all). “Just because I'm an avian doesn't mean I can understand the birds, Scar.”

Scar frowned, giving Grian a confused look. “You can't lie to me! I just heard you talking to the chickens, mister.”

Grian's look became much more pointed. “What chickens, Scar?” he asked sweetly, in the tone that held threats hidden under the surface. 

Scar's eyes widened almost comically as he immediately tried to backtrack. “Oh! No! Nooo, no chickens here. None at all! What chickens? I've never seen a chicken. Ever.” He looked over at Mumbo, before leaning forward and stage-whispering to Grian, “I think I fooled him.”

Mumbo had chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Scar, I'm sitting right next to you,” he pointed out. 

Scar blinked. “Oh. Well! Nonexistent chickens aside, Grian, you still haven't told us what the birds are saying.”

Grian had stared at Scar in silence for a full five seconds before sighing deeply. “They're laughing at me for not getting enough sleep to deal with this.”

“See!” Scar smiled triumphantly, looking over at Mumbo. “I told you he could talk to birds!”

“Pretty sure he's just lying, mate.”

Grian lazily waved his spoon in the air. “I don't know what you're talking about, Mumbo. I never lie.”

Scar's eyes shone. “Now, if my time as a businessman has taught me anything, it's to tell when someone is lying. And that, my dear Grian, was a big ol' lie.”

Grian's eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. “I'm going to bite you.”

“That's a lie!”

Grian then lunged across the table and tackled Scar to the ground. Mumbo shrieked, nearly falling off the bench with them. “Oh, goodness, don’t break the man, G!”

Grian didn’t even have a chance– Scar pinned him to the ground with a triumphant whoop, laughing as Grian squawked and flapped his wings helplessly. “I win! Haha! You are not immune to the good times!”

“What does that even mean?” Grian shot back, unable to stop himself from laughing. “Scar, get off me!”

Scar stood, brushing the dirt off of his pants. “Aww, G, now I’m all dusty! Dusty and sweaty! Eugh!” He moved to take his shirt off, and Grian shrieked.

“Scar!” Grian shot up and smacked Scar’s hand. “Put your clothes back on!” 

Scar whined, pouting slightly. “C’mon, G! I didn’t even take anything off”

Mumbo groaned, putting his head in his hands. “I miss Impulse and Pearl.”

Sunsets were different. 

Mumbo… didn’t really know how to describe it. In the same kind of way people liked going to bed more than they liked waking up, Mumbo enjoyed sunsets far more than he did sunrises. Sunsets were calm, whereas sunrises were frantic, harried. They were a declaration of the day ending, and that rest would come soon. They were an end to the scorching hot temperatures of the summer and a prelude to the cool kiss of the night’s breeze against his face. Not to get all poetic and everything, but they just were nicer. 

He enjoyed how the sky would be painted in oranges and pinks and purples, and how slowly the knights would gather together on the more clear nights to sit under the stars and talk. He enjoyed how in those moments they were all at peace and happy, and how they cared so deeply for each other it felt less like a group of friends and more like…

Family. 

That’s what it was.

Sunsets reminded him of family.

Not this sunset, though.

As the sun slowly set, and shadows grew to cover the whole land, Mumbo felt… different. As he rode alongside his fellow knights (his friends, his family), he couldn’t shake the feeling of urgency that usually accompanied the rising of the sun, rather than the fall. This sunset was not something of love and rest.

This sunset felt like a warning. 

They were running out of time. As the clock ticked, as the sand fell through the hourglass, a sense of impending doom settled over each one of the knights. Mumbo, in his often anxiety ridden state, was no stranger to the feeling that sat tight in his chest and caused his heart to race, tearing air from his lungs in sharp gasps. 

Scar, riding near him, glanced over and saw the poorly concealed panic on the man’s face. Urging his horse closer, he got Mumbo’s attention with a soft ‘psst!’ 

Mumbo startled, torn from his thoughts as he so often was. He met Scar’s gaze and gave him a nervous, half-hearted smile. Scar could, most likely, see past any pretense he was putting up. The man was good at what he did– good at reading people, good at looking for certain nonverbal clues that cued him into what the person was actually thinking. “Hey, Scar.”

Scar reached out, holding the reins in one hand as he gave Mumbo a pat on the shoulder. “You doin’ good? You’re not looking so hot.” 

Mumbo sighed, looking away. “I’m… I dunno, Scar. I just… goodness. This whole thing is so… it’s overwhelming, Scar. What are we even supposed to do?” He laughed, a tense sound. “It’s– it’s just… it’s not something we can just… it’s not simple, Scar. We can’t just solve it with some redstone, or some crazy invention– this is so big. And I don’t– I don’t know how to fix it.” 

Scar pressed his lips together into a thin line. The setting sun cast long shadows over his face, the little light remaining creating dappled patterns on his skin as it filtered in through the trees. He thought for a moment before speaking. “Mumbo, you don’t have to know how to fix everything. You know that, right?”

Mumbo let out a strained laugh, his grip on the reins tightening slightly. “Well, Scar, mate, isn’t that kind of… my job? You know, brilliant redstone inventor over here, coming up with solutions is my whole thing. It’s not like I could… well, I have to make up for my lack of physical prowess somehow.”

Scar shook his head, chuckling softly. “Oh, Mumbo, Mumbo, Mumbo. I’ve been there! I get you, I really do. You know, back in the day, I had a bit of a job myself. I was a businessman, Mumbo Jumbo! And a very good one at that. And my job was to sell things to customers! And…” he frowned, cutting himself off sharply. “I don’t know where I’m going with this. Man, Cub’s so much better at this than me.”

Mumbo felt himself relaxing slightly, the tension slowly being let out of his body. He smiled, giving Scar a half-shrug. “Cub has a lot of skill, that’s for sure. Plenty of experience to go along with it, as well.” 

Scar nodded, and let silence fall over them for a moment before taking in a deep breath. “So, Mumbo, what I was trying to say… I guess, you don’t need to solve everything? I mean, none of us have any clue what we’re doing. Kinda.” He thought for a moment. “That’s not it. What I’m really trying to say is that we’re all in this together? It’s not your job specifically to figure it out alone. Impulse is our friend, and… we all really care for him.” His voice trembled slightly as he finished, eyes darkening. “I hope he’s safe.” 

Mumbo furrowed his brows, concern shining in his eyes as he looked over at Scar. “You doing alright, mate?” This whole thing had been hard on all of them, but something seemed… off… about Scar. 

Scar blinked, and shook himself out of whatever sort of trance he had been in with a slight jerk of his head. “Oh! Yes, don’t you worry, mister. I’m doin’ just fine over here! Just thinking about the scolding I’m gonna give Impulse when we get back home.” He flashed Mumbo a bright smile, and Mumbo let it rest.

He knew that smile was forced. He knew when the cheerful persona of Scar’s came out to play. He knew, and yet… what could he do? Mumbo wasn’t good with words. He was probably the worst out of the knights when it came to social interaction, and that was saying something given they were practically hermits outside of the occasional job they’d pick up and shopping trips. 

So Mumbo did what he did best.

He let his body go on autopilot, and got lost in his thoughts.

At the front of the group, Grian and Pearl were talking in hushed voices. Grian remained stubbornly in his watcher form, despite Pearl’s insistence on taking a break and letting his eyes rest. He’d given her a look, feathers rustling irritably as she spoke. “Stop nagging me, Pearl. Gosh, you’re starting to sound like Timmy.”

She let out an indignant sound, glaring at him. “I am not! And it’s not nagging, mate, you’re going to give yourself a headache with all that looking!”

Grian scoffed, looking away. “It’s called watching, thank you very much. And you’re the one who’s gonna give me a headache, with all your talking! I know what I’m doing Pearl, I’m not a baby.”

“Well, you’re acting like one,” Pearl shot back. “I’m right here, Griba. You don’t have to be hyper vigilant, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“And what happens if I don’t?” Grian snapped, his voice dropping slightly. “What happens if I lose sight of the demon and Impulse, what if–?” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath, “Pearl, I need this,” he admitted, voice low. “If I don’t keep my focus on this, I think I’ll go crazy, Pearl. I’ll get all… you know me, Pearl.” Desperation seeped into his voice. “I don’t– it doesn’t matter if I get a headache or strain myself or, anything, really! But I can’t…”

Pearl sighed. “I know. I know, Griba. I’m just worried. About you, about Impulse, about this whole Watcher thing, about… well, everything. It’s just such a big mess, y’know? And we’re all tangled up in this big web and…” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s pretty overwhelming. Just… we gotta also take care of ourselves, mate. We won’t be able to do anything if we run ourselves ragged before we even get to Impulse.”

Whatever Grian was going to say in response was interrupted by the sound of rattling bones and an arrow flying right by his head, narrowly missing. He shrieked, wings flaring out as the horse beneath him startled. He grabbed the reins and pulled back, stopping the horse from bolting, though it still took a few steps forward.

“Skeleton!” Pearl called out, though the announcement was unneeded. “Stay on your guard!” 

The undead’s bones creaked as it came into view, appearing from under the trees. Normally, along more well-traveled paths, the surrounding areas would be lit up enough to stop the mobs from spawning, and the frequent patrols would be enough to discourage them from wandering too close. Unfortunately for the knights, they were traveling through an uninhabited area with no path in sight. They could handle the mobs just fine, but it certainly made traveling a little more difficult.

Scar drew his crossbow, fingers brushing over the enchantments carved into the material, and nocked a bolt. “I got it!” He drew the bolt back and fired, the skeleton collapsing into a pile of bones with a rattling groan. “Yes! Hotguy strikes again!”

Grian would’ve rolled his eyes if he could. “You and that Hotguy thing, I swear…” His feathers began to settle back down, and he folded his wings behind his back. “Right, then. That’s probably our cue to stop for the night.”

“We’re stopping?” Mumbo asked, slightly confused. “Why?”

Pearl sighed, dismounting. She gently stroked her horse’s neck before answering Mumbo. “As much as we’d love to get to Impulse as soon as possible, we can’t be riding through the night. The horses are tired, and we need time to rest and recuperate as well. I…” She looked over at Grian, watching him dismount as well. “I don’t want to stop. I really don’t. But we have to.”

Scar nodded. “Makes sense! Gotta be our best selves if we’re gonna deal with that demon guy!” He dismounted, Mumbo following a moment later. “Mumbo and I can go light up some of the surrounding area while you two make a fire and deal with the horses?” he suggested.

“Good idea. You have those…” Pearl gestured vaguely with her hand, trying to think of the word. “...magic torches? The fancy ones, so ya don’t burn down the whole forest?”

“I never leave home without them!” Scar grabbed Mumbo’s arm. “Come on, Mumble Jumble, time to light up this forest!”

Mumbo yelped as he got dragged away, casting one last terrified glance at Grian and Pearl before disappearing into the woods with Scar. 

“I swear,” Pearl chuckled as she dealt with the horses, “he never loses energy. I’ve rarely ever seen that man get tired.”

Grian busied himself with clearing a small area for a campfire, using his bird-like feet to help dig up the grass. “Scar’s… definitely something,” he agreed, shaking the dirt off his talons before hopping (not walking– hopping) awkwardly over to a tree, his wings flapping slightly to help balance him. He began to snap some smaller branches and twigs, gathering them in his arms. “Dunno what we’d do without him. Without any of them.”

Pearl smiled sadly, giving one of the horses a soft pat before walking over to help Grian with his task. “Barely feels like any time’s passed at all, yeah? Since we first met in that old town.”

Grian laughed at the memory, shaking his head. “You’d just crashed into the ground. Still had no clue how to use those wings of yours.” He glanced at the colourful moth wings that were folded delicately behind Pearl’s back. 

She was scared, Grian could tell. Wide eyes that were the same blue of a storm-promising sky and filled with barely held back tears. She was scraped up and bruised from her fall, the wings trailing behind her seeming unnatural and unwieldy. 

Grian didn’t ask questions. She needed help, and that was all he needed to know.

Later, he would hear stories of feathered golden wings, carrying Pearl through the sky alongside her flock. He would listen in from behind a door that hadn’t been completely shut as she told Jimmy what it was like to soar high above endless fields of sunflowers and wheat, racing her flockmates at speeds she would never again be able to achieve. 

Grian and Jimmy had lost their flock when they were young. It was no wonder that Jimmy was interested in Pearl’s memories of her flock, who had treated her with kindness and love. Flockless avians were often unable to defend themselves and died without the protection a flock was supposed to provide. 

Jimmy and Grian had been lucky enough to find an old town nearby, with inhabitants who were more than willing to let them in. They’d made a life for themselves there, when Pearl had come crashing into their lives.

“I broke my leg,” Pearl recalled, wincing slightly at the bittersweet memory. “And you and Tim helped patch me back up. And then I just never left.”

“I’ve cursed that day ever since,” Grian joked, yelping when Pearl elbowed him. “Hey! Not cool!” he squawked as Pearl giggled softly. “I wonder how Tim’s doing right now,” he added after a moment. “Do you think he misses us?”

Pearl raised her eyebrows. “Grian, we do visit him. He’s doing just fine, you saw for yourself. Got a whole new bunch of friends and everything!” She examined Grian’s face. “Oh, you’re not upset he didn’t join us, are you?” she teased lightly. “You know Jimmy would hate the outdoorsy life we’ve got going on. He’s perfectly comfortable where he is.”

Grian sighed, turning and hopping back to the area he’d prepared for their fire, beginning to place the sticks down. “Can you grab some rocks?” he asked, “I hate not being able to fly. Walking is so hard.” 

Pearl laughed, setting her sticks down near Grian before starting to search for smaller rocks. “You do look cute though, hopping around like a little birdie. Oh, don’t give me that, you know it’s true!”

“It’s humiliating is what it is,” Grian muttered, “Mumbo and Scar are never gonna let me live it down.” 

“Good!” Pearl chirped, bringing back the stones she had collected to make a circle. “You deserve it, honestly.”

Mumbo’s shriek rang out through the forest, startling the two. Grian nearly fell over from how much he jumped, eyes going wide from shock. What made the shriek more concerning was the explosion that followed soon after, and Pearl was about to charge off into the woods before Scar yelled, “Just a creeper! We’re good!” his voice tiny from the distance. 

Pearl shook her head, sighing softly. “Those two are going to give me gray hairs early,” she murmured fondly.

“You’re not the only one,” Grian muttered, earning a laugh from Pearl. “What?”

“Maybe if you’d stop being such a scaredy cat–” 

“I am not–!” 

Despite their bickering, they were able to get the fire going before Scar and Mumbo came back, looking a tad singed but none the worse for the wear. 

“Area is successfully lit up!” Scar proclaimed. “We should be safe from all the spooky things out there now. Should be.”

“We’ll set up a watch nonetheless. Better be safe than sorry,” Grian decided, as Mumbo and Scar joined him and Pearl at the campfire. “I’ll go first, because there is no way you’re waking me up once I’m out.”

“I’ll go second then,” Mumbo volunteered, “if no one else wants to,” he added after a moment.

Pearl shrugged. “I’ll take the third shift, then, and Scar can go last?”

“Sounds good to me!” Scar agreed, and the knights fell into silence.

As the makeshift campfire crackled softly, spitting sparks into the night sky, the knights lingered for a while around the small source of warmth and light. For a while, there was a somber sort of quiet hanging over the group– silence settling in the empty space that Impulse usually filled. 

Grian, still in his watcher form, leaned forward to gaze into the fire, light reflecting off eyes as black as the night sky. Scar glanced over, and despite everything, had to suppress a giggle.

Clearly, he didn't do that very well, and Grian looked up at him with a slightly confused expression. “Are you alright, Scar?” he asked, and Scar couldn't hold it in anymore.

He giggled, reaching out and patting Grian's face. “You look like a kitty cat!” he exclaimed, “with your big ol' eyes and everything!”

Grian blinked. “I'm sorry, what–” 

Pearl started laughing. “I guess we didn’t have to worry about them being scared by our other forms then, huh!”

Grian’s face flushed a light pink, and he shooed them all away. “Oh, go to bed! I’ll wake you for your shift, Mumbo!”

The other three dispersed, laying out the sleeping bags Pearl had thankfully thought to pack. Better to be over prepared than under, in her opinion. 

Sleep came surprisingly quick, though it seemed like she had just closed her eyes when she felt Mumbo’s gentle hand on her shoulder, waking her for her shift. Pearl blinked away the sleep in her eyes and quietly thanked Mumbo, before taking a seat by the slowly dying campfire. 

There wasn’t much to do during a night watch, other than to sit alone with her thoughts. And that’s exactly what Pearl did, until she thought of something too important to leave floating in her mind.

The plan was for Grian and her to expel the demon from Impulse using their own magic. But where would the demon go after, when it had been forced from its host?

Pearl quietly walked back to her sleeping bag, opening the small pack she had set beside it. She rifled through the contents for a moment before pulling out a small, clear cut crystal. She’d gotten it so long ago she’d forgotten how it came to be in her possession, but it would work just fine for what she was thinking of.

Walking back over to the campfire, Pearl shifted into her watcher form, holding the crystal in her hand. Sitting down, Pearl closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling the magic of the world around her. Another breath, to feel the magic buzzing in her veins. In and out, once more, and she began to imbue the crystal with her magic.

It was a simple enough task. All Pearl needed to do was prepare the crystal to bind the demon to it with her magic. Once the demon was expelled, it would be a simple enough task to pull it into the crystal. And then, as long as she kept checking on it from time to time and strengthening the binding magic, the demon would remain sealed away.

Deep breaths. In, and out.

Pearl let the magic flow through her and into the crystal, caught up in the feeling of casting. She didn’t do it often, not like this. It was nice to finally use her magic again. She didn’t even realize how much time had passed until she felt a hand on her shoulder, and Scar’s quiet voice in her ear. She opened her eyes to look at him, continuing to cast as she did. “Oh! Scar!” She kept her voice down, aware of how close they were to the two who were still asleep. “You good, mate?”

Scar nodded. “I think it’s time for my shift,” he explained, glancing toward the sky, “and also, I felt your magic. Whatcha doin’, Pearl?”

Ah. She had lost track of time, then.

Pearl finished casting, tucking the crystal into her pocket. “Just makin’ a lil magic crystal thing. For later,” she explained. “Sorry for not waking you up. Or… kinda waking you up? Since you sensed my magic and all? I guess?”

Scar shrugged, smiling slightly. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I got plenty of rest. Which you should probably try to do as well. Big day tomorrow.”

Pearl stood, shifting out of her watcher form. “Right, then. Have fun with your watch shift, Scar. And I’ll do my best. G’night, Scar.”

“Good night, Pearl.”

The morning came too quickly, and not quick enough at the same time. There were few attempts at conversation as the knights began to break down camp, kicking dirt over their small fire and packing up what little they had taken out. Grian, who had shifted into his “normal” form to sleep, shifted back into his watcher form and took a minute to relocate Impulse and the demon.

“I can’t see him, exactly,” Grian explained to Scar and Mumbo. “It’s a bit blurry, I guess. I know where he is, I can see the magic around him, but I can’t really make out small details like his face. I don’t really know why, but that’s just how it works.”

“Sooo… like looking through a really bad spyglass, then,” Scar concluded, earning a sigh from Grian. “What? I’m right!”

“I guess,” Grian admitted as they mounted their horses, “but that’s kinda like comparing a bow to Mumbo’s rocket launcher. They do kinda the same thing, but one’s a lot more complicated and powerful.”

Scar hummed thoughtfully. “I see… well, as long as it works!”

Grian remained in his watcher form as he led the tense ride through the forest. The sky above was streaked with clouds that occasionally would cover the sun and cast the land below into shadow. As the knights got closer to their destination, the trees began to thin out, promising open fields up ahead.

“You’d think he wouldn’t have gotten this far,” Grian muttered to Pearl, “but humans have so much endurance. It’s fascinating. And somewhat annoying.”

Pearl hummed softly, her gaze fixed straight ahead. “I’m worried for his health. I’m honestly doubting the demon cares too much for Impulse’s well-being, and I don’t think it has to deal with the negative effects of what it’s putting Impulse’s body through. If that makes sense.”

Grian nodded, his eyes focused not on what was in front of him but on something– someone– far away. “Demons don’t feel exhaustion or hunger, do they?” he asked, speaking mostly to himself. 

“I think some do,” Pearl answered, “but not this one. Since it’s only in the blood, y’know? And it’s only borrowing… Impulse… so that’s not it’s… well. Body, I guess.”

Grian suddenly stopped, causing Pearl’s horse to almost run into his. “We’re dismounting here,” he called back to the other three. “Impulse is just up ahead, in the fields beyond the treeline.” He dismounted carefully, tying the reins to a sturdy branch. “Right. Let’s go over the plan one more time. We’ll find Impulse and confront the demon. Pearl and I will begin casting while Mumbo and Scar keep the demon busy and stop it from running off. Once Pearl and I start casting, we won’t be able to stop until the spell is over. So if something happens– if one or both of you gets injured, let’s say– we won’t be able to help.”

The others dismounted with serious looks on their faces, tension hanging in the air so thick one could almost cut it with a knife. Scar glanced over at Mumbo, who looked several shades paler than usual. “I’m the best at physical combat,” he began slowly, “when I go vex, at least. I’ll do my best to keep it from attacking you or running away, without hurting Impulse too badly.”

“The demon will be attacking to kill though, won’t it?” Mumbo asked, wringing his hands together as he looked between the other knights. “It won’t fight fair just because we are.”

Scar laughed sardonically. “Oh, I’m not gonna be fightin’ fair, mister. I’m just not gonna strike lethally, is all. But you’re right,” he added after a moment, “the demon is gonna try to kill us. And it’s– it’s strong. We know this. But the other option is letting Impulse die, or lettin’ someone else die in his place.”

“Impulse would never forgive us if that happened,” Mumbo pointed out, “and, well, given the other option is his death…” 

“We can’t give up,” Scar finished, earning nods from the rest of the group. “We’ll get Impulse back. We have to.”

Pearl looked over at Grian, shifting into her watcher form as she did so. “Right, then. Time to head out?” 

Grian nodded, clenching his hands into fists. “Time to head out. Let’s go save Impulse, guys.” 

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds as the knights made their way out of the forest and into the wide open field. The wind rustled the grass around them and blew through their hair, and carried with it the promise of a fight. 

Grian had shifted out of his watcher form if only for a moment, just to make travel on foot easier. He was, after all, not suited for walking with those bird feet of his in his watcher form. He carefully ran his hand over his wings and plucked three loose feathers, silently handing one to each of the knights. A promise. No matter which way this went, he’d be with them.

The knights each tucked their feathers away, Pearl reaching out to take Grian’s hand in one of her own and giving it a light squeeze. We’ll be okay, the action said, I’m here. 

The knights continued to walk through the field, walking over a small hill when Grian suddenly stopped, his wings extending slightly so as to stop the knights who were walking behind him. “...I see him.”

And there he was.

Impulse stood in the field, facing away from the knights, slightly below them where the ground evened out after the hill. He seemed unsteady on his feet, the sword in his hand dragging against the ground as if he had unsheathed it only to forget why he had done so, and lacked the strength to fully pick the weapon back up. 

And his hands… even from a distance, Grian could tell that Impulse’s hands were covered in blood– some dried, some freshly spilt. He… couldn’t think about that. They didn’t have the time to. Not now. 

“Impulse!” Pearl called, her voice strong and steady. Grian wished he had the strength to do what she did. “Impulse, we’re here. It’s okay.”

Impulse startled, nearly dropping his sword as he turned around sharply. And finally, after so long of trying to find him, the knights were able to see his face.

He looked gaunt, scared. The bags beneath his eyes were a testament to the exhaustion that plagued his body, and the shake in his hands matched the fear in his eyes. That wasn’t the worst of it– twin horns poked up from his hair, unnatural and out of place. Mumbo sucked in a horrified breath at the sight, paling and covering his mouth with one hand.

“What–” Impulse’s voice sounded strained, raspy– “what are you doing here?” Tears filled his exhausted, scared eyes. “Why did you follow me? I could– I could hurt you!” And suddenly, it wasn’t Impulse anymore, but red eyes and a straightened back and steady hands that belonged to the demon. “Yes… why did you follow him? Don’t you know?” it mocked in Impulse’s voice, smiling. “He can hurt you pitiful little things.” 

Scar’s eyes shone a brilliant blue, the colour fleeing from his hair as he glared at the demon that wore Impulse’s face. “What have you done?!” he yelled, his hands clenching into fists. Sharpened claws pricked into skin, drawing small beads of blood, but Scar didn’t even feel the pain. That was Impulse. Impulse was hurting and it was all because of that demon, the demon that stood in front of him and smiled at Scar with a face that wasn’t its own, that it had no right to use. 

“Oh!” The demon tilted its head to the side. “Oh, nothing he didn’t ask for.” 

Eyes filled with rage, Grian shifted back into his watcher form. “Scar! Mumbo!” he called, and the fight began.

Scar held himself back from going full vex at first, throwing himself at the demon. It hadn’t been expecting the initial attack, stumbling back several steps before pulling itself together. The shock didn’t last long, and the demon was soon fighting back with a fierceness that Scar did his best to match.

Grian looked over at Pearl, meeting her eyes. “Right then. Let’s end this.”

Standing side by side, the two siblings fixed their gaze on the demon in their friend’s body. The magic that swirled around him was wrong, unnatural, evil– and it was their job to fix it. Pearl reached out and took Grian’s hand in one of her own, giving him a nod. They both stretched out their free arms, and called upon their magic.

The clouds darkened as the very magic that flowed through the air began to change, as if even the sky stopped to focus its attention on the two Watchers. The ambient magic flowed around them like a gust of air, rustling through Grian’s feathers and Pearl’s hair. 

Grian's wings extended to their full span, and Pearl's followed suit, snapping open as a glowing purple eye appeared behind them. The wind picked up as the grass around the two began to glow as well, the broken portal symbol of the ancient Evolutionists appearing at their feet. 

Faces set with determination, the two began to cast.

Scar did his best to keep the demon’s attention on him as he fought. It was much different than normal fights– his goal was to keep the demon from running off, all while trying to dodge the blows that were aimed to take his very life. Scar felt the vex magic inside him boiling in his veins, begging to be let free, to run wild and take over his mind. He stubbornly fought it back down– he was in control, not the vex. He wasn’t ready to go full vex again. Not yet.

Unfortunately for him, the universe didn’t care if he wasn’t ready.

The demon, by possessing Impulse, had gained every bit of the man’s strength and skill. And given the strength-enhancing magic it likely held, it was no wonder that Scar was struggling. The demon attacked again, and Scar wasn’t able to get out of the way in time. He took a heavy blow to the side and stumbled back, losing his footing on the uneven terrain and falling to the ground hard. 

Mumbo stumbled back as the demon suddenly turned toward him, fumbling to quickly draw his sword in order to block the sudden attack. He strained under the pressure of the demon bringing Impulse’s full strength to bear, his arms shaking as he tried to push back. “Scar!” he yelped, “Scar, I can’t–”

The demon brought the sword down, and it was only Mumbo’s quick thinking of jumping to the side that kept him from dying instantly. The blade still sliced into his arm, and Mumbo let out a frantic scream that made whatever restraints Scar had holding him back shatter. Mumbo dropped to the ground, blood flowing freely from the wound, and Scar…

Scar snapped. 

Not in the same way he had before, not at all. He was in control, and could feel the power of the vex flowing through his body as natural as the blood in his veins. Power buzzed behind his eyes as shining vex wings appeared behind him, and he shot up, taking a few steps forward before attacking the demon, the overwhelming need to get it away from Mumbo singing in his movements.

The demon turned to attack Scar, and he dug his claws into its chest and pushed it back as hard as he could, almost throwing it with how hard he shoved. He’d clearly underestimated his strength, as the demon flew back and landed hard on its arm, the sickening gunshot snap of a bone breaking making Scar wince.

And for a moment, the scream that tore its way out in response was purely Impulse, his voice unchanged by the timbre of the demon’s. For a moment, it was just Impulse, only Impulse, and guilt swept through him like a torrent. 

But then it was the demon again, pushing itself back up and switching the sword over to its left hand, shining red eyes glaring at Scar as it shifted into a fighting stance once more. “Well? Fight me, then. See how long it takes for your precious friend’s body to break down and give up.” 

Scar’s eyes narrowed. He glanced over to where Mumbo was, clutching his arm close and watching the fight with wide eyes. He’d be alright, and that was what was important. Lifting his gaze once more, Scar met the demon’s gaze. “Impulse is stronger than you’ll ever be. You’ll be long gone before he ever breaks down,” he spat.

The fight didn’t get a chance to continue– with a shout, Grian drew Scar’s attention back to him and Pearl. The magic around the two siblings had become wisps of purple light, swirling around the two as they casted. Scar knew with uncanny certainty that the spell was almost complete.

The demon did as well, judging by its roar of anger. “No! I will not be defeated by pathetic little mortals–!” 

Scar saw it attempt to go for Grian and Pearl and dashed forward, throwing himself at the demon and bringing it and himself crashing to the ground. He winced at the impact, mentally making a note to apologize to Impulse later, when they were all safe. 

“Scar!” Pearl yelled, and Scar took that as his cue to get the heck away from there.

He jumped up and scrambled away, uncaring if he looked a little undignified in the movement. He made it to Mumbo and collapsed by the man, bleeding and gasping, and turned just in time to see the spell hit its mark.

The demon screamed, an awful sound that tore into Scar’s heart, because it was Impulse, it was Impulse’s voice and Impulse’s face and Impulse’s body but it wasn’t Impulse at the same time. It wasn’t Impulse, and the eyes that bore into Scar while it tried to stand and was inevitably forced to its knees were not Impulse’s.

And then they were.

And then it was over.

Pearl pulled out the crystal from her pocket, drawing the demon’s essence toward her and binding it into the crystal. The once clear gem turned a scarlet red, and once she was certain it was sealed away, she slipped the gem back into her pocket.

A weak sob tore its way from Impulse’s lips as he gingerly held his broken arm in his other. He squeezed his eyes shut, shrinking in on himself, and for the first time since Grian had met him, Impulse seemed so small. 

Scar stood shakily, helping Mumbo to his feet as well. “Okay… okay, okay,” he breathed out, making sure Mumbo was really alright before turning back and forcing himself to walk– walk, not run, he’s scared and hurt right now– to Impulse, kneeling by him. “Hey, Impulse.” He could see the other knights approaching in his peripherals, but for now he stayed focused on the injured man in front of him. “Hey.”

Pearl settled in the grass a little bit away, still leaving enough room to give Impulse space as she shifted back into her normal form. Grian followed suit, tucking colourful wings behind his back and sitting next to his sister. “Hey, mate,” Pearl started gently. “Can ya hear us? We’re here.”

Impulse let out a broken sob, shrinking in even further on himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and the words were so quiet they were barely audible. “I’m so, so, sorry.” Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, mixing with blood and dirt. 

Scar shared a look with Mumbo, before turning back to Impulse. He tried to keep his eyes from drifting to the horns that stuck up from the man’s head, and focused more on his face. “Impulse… Impulse, it’s okay. We’re okay. Can I touch you?” he asked, waiting for confirmation before reaching forward and carefully, as though Impulse were made of glass and would shatter at the slightest touch, drew him into a hug.

Impulse began to weep freely then, and Scar felt himself slowly relax out of his vex form, the colour seeping back into his hair and skin. He kept his arms around Impulse, murmuring soft comforts that had once been said to him.

It wasn’t long before Impulse passed out, from the exhaustion and exertion combined with the sheer pain and shock of the day’s events– of the weeks he had been dealing with the demon inside of his head alone. It had been exhausting, overwhelming, and Scar didn’t blame him in the slightest.

The journey home would be a long one, and the road to healing stretched out seemingly for an eternity. But the knights were no stranger to traveling, and this was just another path they would have to walk down.

Together. 

[multimilfs]

POV POV POV anything from agathas perspective (maaaybe smth jelly or protective 👀 im not picky tho)

hmm, this was a hard (but fun) one! i've been toying with some Agatha POVs in the new chapter(s) so this was a nice little exercise for that. not exactly what you requested, but i hope you like it regardless, darling!! i had so much fun playing around with this!!

also--spoilers for The Reigning Game CH5 below the cut

Agatha's POV:

"Help me up." Agatha demands.

When she inhales, it's choked. There's an odd heat to the feeling of her flesh sliding over the blade. Like the searing pain should be temporary. But it renews again with each breath, forcing adrenaline and rage into her veins.

The rage, so familiar and comforting, calls forth her magic, beckons it forward from that never-ending well somewhere deep in her person. Her power writhes in the same agony she does as soon as it surfaces. It claws at her, desperate for a foothold to pull away from the pain, from whatever is imbued in the fucking sword that makes her unable to rid herself of it. It begs for the pain to end. She cannot make it stop.

She lets loose a long string of curses.

Agatha doesn't know who this Witch is, but when she does she's going to destroy her slowly. She'll turn her magic against her so she feels the never-ending torment of her body unraveling. And when she begs for mercy, Agatha will give it to her; but she won't let her keep it.

Stupid fucking Witch. Stupid plans and you and biding her fucking time when she should just--

"Why should I?"

Agatha freezes. She holds her breath, which is a strange relief for her abdomen, though her lungs scream. She tilts her head back to look at you.

You, beautiful and kind and arrogant and foolish. You, with the sun at your back, surrounding your person in a ring of golden light. You, the problem and solution.

She really knows how to pick them.

There's a desire roiling in your eyes that intrigues her. Bloodlust. It lingers every time you look at her, every time you sit in silence long enough to consider how you might bring her to heel. Yet, in some deep part of her, Agatha knows this bloodlust isn't yours.

You're too still.

"Don't do this. Not now."

Your laugh is quick, easy, wrong, "I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness."

Harkness. Like saying her true name is beneath you; the Witch has kept that much true, at least.

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

She knows you desire her death for yourself, you always have. You've fought her tooth and nail every step of the way. Just like that day.

That day when she had outmaneuvered you, leaving your forces surrounded in the old fortress. Agatha hadn't seen the bodies she leveled, focused solely on meeting you halfway, as if called by some outside force. The blood had clung to her skirts though.

Upon her approach, you had wasted no time. You lunged, a flurry of blows and slashes so fast even she fought to keep up. You danced around the bodies she left trailing behind her. Even with the advantage of age and power you were quicker, flitting in and out of space before she could fathom how to catch you. A Goddess of beauty and rage and determination.

Agatha's familiar enough with manipulation--familiar enough with you--to see through the clumsy attempt.

Your head tilts, observing her like a specimen in a jar. Agatha's magic still roils and writhes within her, equal parts desperate to escape the pain and eager to prod you until the emotion in your eyes is your own. How dare that Witch alter what is already perfect?

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

The way out, wickedly deposited into her lap.

Agatha smirks through the pain.

Winning. Winning for whom? Not those masses your heart bleeds for. The poor and downtrodden Agatha rarely spares a thought for, but whom you had gone to war to defend.

The woven mask cracks, a hint of you peeking through. Her eyes rake down your form. Her head tilts. It's a shame, really; such a stunning example of fury, butchered by ham-handed manipulation.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

the original scene (for context):

Lightness sweeps through your limbs. Walking away now would be so easy. It is your turn to have the last word.

“Help me up.” Agatha demands.

Her chest rises, though stutters each time as the pain of her flesh sliding over the blade renews. Under her breath she lets loose a string of obscene curses.

You tilt your head, your own voice sounding far away, “Why should I?”

Agatha freezes. For the first time since falling, she looks at you. You’re struck by the change in circumstances; not long ago it was you kneeling at her feet, begging. You’re seized by the desire to feel her beg.

You want to hold her heart in your hands and squeeze.

“Don’t do this. Not now.”

The laugh comes too easy, “I never took you for a sore loser, Harkness.”

“If you want to win, stab me yourself—don’t profit off of someone else’s fortune.”

You stare at her, hard; the paling of her skin, the way her fingers are clenched in the grass, palm sputtering purple. Her eyes are furious. There’s also something else there you can’t quite place.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You ask, “Being rid of you is winning. How it happens is irrelevant.”

Agatha’s lips pull into a smirk. It lacks the usual strength, but you still find yourself unmoored—fear creeping in where triumph was moments earlier.

Her eyes drag over you. Her own head tilts.

“You’d be beautiful like this—if it was really you.”

You can’t breathe.

[sonjalikestodraw]

Slay the Princess Ask Game! :] 1. (Explore) What's your favorite Chapter?

2. (Explore) If you have a least favorite Chapter, then how would you go about changing it?

25. (Explore) What’s a moment in the game that emotionally destroyed you?

@ultranova75 asked: "Whats your favorite chapter? (Haven't seen anyone do the slay the princess ask game to you so I'll do it myself >:3)"

(asks from this) 1. The Wild, hands down. I have played most, but not all, variations in Pristine Cut, and I'm still processing those, so they're hard to rank. But Wild, she is the heart of the game to me. This chapter brings out all the best in each Voice and deepens all characters present. The way she embodies the longterm relationship metaphor and how many different ways you can end this codependency for something more earnest, or soar high into unity, always fire-forged by strife and love, is so deliciously open to all interpretions. Playing this feels different every time, in a good way.

And! Networked's ending made me trust Shifty even more in hindsight, because of that peek into absolute reality not being a fluke, but proven to be present throughout the game's reality.

2. I can't think of one right now, tbh. They're all satisfying in their own way. Some just cater more to my taste than others.

25. Many did, but off the top of my head: The Sleeping Mound's response to "You have been kinder to me than anyone else I've met. Why?/Thank you."

"Why wouldn't I be kind to you? You are the only thing I know that isn't me."

Every time, man. Every time, I tear up or cry out. The way the singing swells in Movement 3, the way she gently challenges my distrust and grim expectations, the way she heightens my faith in humanity.... I was stunned into a long silence the first time I experienced it in my first playthrough and I never stop wanting to hear her say that ever since.

If only people could operate from this assumption, all the time. If only. If only I could afford to be this soft, as I would like to be, all the time.

[something-tofightfor]

Snow and Mistletoe - Part 1

A PedroStories Secret Santa gift fic

This is my submission for @pedrostories annual holiday event, and it's for @burntheedges. I was so excited to get you as a giftee, Kate, because your requests align with the way I tend to write my stories... and this one took on a life of its own. As you can see, this is only part 1. I tried to incorporate some (a lot) of the things that you said you enjoyed into this, and I think (hope) you'll be happy with how they're scattered throughout.

This is a no-outbreak AU, and while it doesn't quite follow canon, you're going to see a fair bit sprinkled in- because I can't help it and I've wanted to write more in depth for Joel and Sarah for a LONG time, so I really enjoyed this a lot.

Thank you so much for all that you've contributed to the Pedro fandom, and for sharing your writing with us. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas.

I plan on posting the other 2 parts + the epilogue throughout the day today and tomorrow, but part 1 can be read as a standalone if you'd like.

---

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

No Outbreak AU.

Word Count: 5,166

Rating: M - as a whole for language and innuendo, but this chapter is very tame.

Summary: You own a music shop in Austin, and both your niece and Sarah are employees. As a former classmate - and the father of your employee - Joel Miller has been a part of your life for many years.

But circumstances have never been exactly right for the two of you to get to know each other better ... until now, when outside intervention pushes you together just in time for the holidays.

“Ellie, go unlock the front door.” You looked up from what you were doing, pointing with one finger. “She’s going to be here any minute.” 

‘I’m kind of busy at the moment.” At her tone, you turned your head sharply, watching as she came around the corner with a stack of boxes in her arms. “You do it. Please?” When she peeked around the cardboard, she actually looked apologetic, so you agreed, hurrying toward the front entrance of your store. 

You were just in time, watching as a dark colored pick up pulled to the curb and the teenager hopped out, leaning her head back inside for a few seconds before waving and heading to where you stood. 

Pushing the glass door open, you grinned, holding it with one hand. “Morning, Sarah. How’s it going?” 

“Good.” Looking back over her shoulder, she nodded. “Really good.” 

You saw him in the truck, the man ducking his head and turning to look in your direction, giving you a view of his entire face. The windows were closed, so instead of saying anything, you lifted your hand and gave him a wave like you did every time he dropped her off - Joel nodding in return before he sat back up again and pulled back into traffic, beeping the horn once. 

You stared after him for a few seconds and then took a breath, your attention moving to the girl, still standing beside you. But she had a curious look in her face, her lips set into a tiny frown. “What?” Letting the door shut, you backed up and into the shop. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I’m … not?” She blinked, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Is Ellie here?”

“She is.” You pointed, the stack of boxes that the other teenager had carried in already sitting on the countertop, though she was nowhere in sight. “She’s probably back in one of the lesson rooms, if you want to go back there.” Sarah’s grin nearly split her face in half, her curls bouncing when she turned to head in the direction you’d suggested. “You guys have half an hour, alright? Store opens early this month because of Christmas, and -”

“We know!” Ellie’s head popped out of one of the rooms down the hall, her smile wide, too. “That’s why I’m already set up. C’mon Sarah. Hope you’re ready.” 

You watched as she headed for the hallway, both girls talking excitedly for a few seconds before they disappeared. “Alright.” Nodding to yourself, you looked around the showroom, letting out a breath. “Let’s get ready to open.” 

— 

Six and a half hours later, you were standing outside of the front doors, drinking a coffee that you’d had delivered. 

You rarely took an actual lunch while you worked. But, Ellie and Sarah were more than capable of handling the few customers you’d had that afternoon, and the closing crew would be in to take over within the hour. And I deserve this. 

Sipping the drink, you closed your eyes and were surprised a few seconds later by a deep voice on your right. “Did’ya order one of those for me, too?” 

“No, but you can have a sip of this one as long as you don’t just want plain coffee.” Holding the cup out, you smiled as Joel took the final few steps, reaching out with one hand to take the coffee from you. “You got done early today, hmm?”

“I did.” Raising your coffee to his lips, he look a long drink, humming at the taste. “Shit that’s good.” He held it back out to you but you shook your head, motioning for him to keep it. “I can’t, I -”

“You need it more than me.” He opened his mouth to argue but then decided against it, swallowing another mouthful. “Sarah’s off in a few minutes, do you want to go inside and wait for her?”

“I’m actually here for a couple new sets of strings.” He swiped at the back of his head with one hand, jutting his chin out toward the door. “Figured it’s a good time to change ‘em, and Sarah told me you guys are having a sale.”

“We are.” You pulled the door open, gesturing for him to walk in ahead of you. “I’d offer to point you in the right direction, but you’ve been coming in here longer than I’ve owned it, so…”

“If I need anything, I’ll be sure to come an’ find you.” He smiled, raising the cup again. “Thank you for this.” You turned away from him first, going over to the counter and slipping back behind it. Ellie was leaning there, her elbows resting on the glass. 

“Joel’s here early.” She looked up at you, raising a brow. “What were you two talking about?”

“Guitar strings.” She opened her mouth but before she could say anything, you held up a hand. “Not another word, Elanor.” She snorted, standing straight up and tapping her fingers against the countertop. 

“Alright. I’ll go into the back where you won’t hear anything else I have to say.” She looked between you and the showroom floor, her eyes bright. “But Sarah’s another story.” She beelined it around the counter and then toward the hallway, calling out a hello to Joel as she sped past. He grinned at her, saying hi back. There wasn’t time for anything else before she’d disappeared, leaving the two of you - and an older man who was looking at keyboards - alone. 

You could have stared at him for hours, but instead of letting your inner thoughts win, you busied yourself with menial tasks behind the counter, not looking up until someone cleared their throat to get your attention. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Joel waiting to check out. Instead the other customer was in front of you, three songbooks in his hands. “Which one of these should I buy for my grandson?” He set them down, fanning them out. “His parents got him a keyboard for his birthday last month, but he can’t play anything yet.” 

“I wouldn’t choose any of these.” You answered honestly, looking between the three options. “These are all for intermediate players, and if he just got the keyboard, it sounds like -”

“But the ones that are easier are all nursery rhymes.” He scowled at you, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “Kevin is fifteen. He’s too old for nursery rhymes.”

“If I could cut in…” You looked up to find Joel standing just behind the man, a few sets of guitar strings held between the fingers of one hand. “He might be too old to enjoy a nursery rhyme, but that doesn’t mean he should skip over learnin’ to play them.” Joel took a breath, giving you a look that clearly asked “is this alright”, and when you nodded he continued, pointing at the books. “You gotta start somewhere. Givin’ a kid something that they can’t play yet might make ‘em less likely to stick with it long term.” 

“You could buy two books,” you cut in, immensely thankful for Joel’s interjection. “One of the easier ones and then something a little more difficult that he can work up to?” You gestured to the back of the shop. “When I was teaching my niece how to play guitar, we stared with really simple things and she tried new ones when she felt comfortable.”

“Same here.” Joel stepped a little closer, nodding his head. “First day I picked up my guitar I thought I was going to be able to pull off Jimmy Page or Eddie Van Halen solos right away…” He laughed, rubbing at his beard with his free hand. “Turns out that was not the case.” You bit back a laugh at his words, watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “It was months of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and Smoke on The Water before my fingers got used to playing.” He nodded at the man, his smile smaller but still there. “Get him one of the beginner books, and then explain you want him to feel confident before he tries somethin’ harder.” 

The older man was scowling, his eyes moving between the three books on the counter until he finally looked up at you. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.” He left them there when he turned and headed for the door, pushing past Joel on his way. You watched his back until he was gone, and then finally looked at Joel again, shrugging. 

“That could have gone better.” He set the strings down  - along with two packages of picks - and then spoke after letting out a deep sigh.

“Way he reacted it’s like we were accusin’ his grandson of bein’ an idiot.” Reaching for his stuff, you began scanning it, dropping things into a small plastic bag. “It’s common sense, though. Why overwhelm someone when they’re trying to learn?”

“I wish I knew.” Finishing and giving him the total, you watched as Joel swiped his card before tucking it back into his wallet and shoving the entire thing in his back pocket. Change the subject. “Which guitar are you restringing?” 

“Both of ‘em.” He leaned forward, resting his forearm on the glass, but leaving the bag where it was. “Cleanin’ and oilin’ the fretboards, too.” He looked down at his watch and then back at you. “Might even do it tonight.” 

“What an exciting Saturday night, dad.” Sarah reappeared, followed closely by Ellie, your niece carrying another stack of boxes and a clipboard. “Maybe if you actually answered some of the messages on that dating app you have, you could go out and do things on the weekends.” 

You felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of Joel going out on a date, but tried to push it down. You hadn’t ever made it known that you were interested - especially since you’d known him and Sarah for so long. But it’s harder not to say anything now that Sarah’s working here and I see him more. 

“I do plenty of things on the weekends.” Joel straightened up, putting a hand on his hip. “I hang out with you. I see your uncle Tommy. I work on the house, and -”

“Thrilling.” Sarah rolled her eyes, nudging him with her elbow and looking at you. “I clocked out, by the way, so I’m not just like … standing here on your time.” 

“You’re fine, Sarah.” Ellie set everything down and came to stand next to you, setting the clipboard down on he counter. “I’ll -”

“Speaking of thrilling…” Ellie cut in, crossing her arms and taking a seat on the barstool behind the register. “She told me the other day she’s not going to the Christmas thing at the community center next weekend because “Fridays and Saturdays are the busiest days in the store so I scheduled myself to work.” She made air quotes and changed her voice as she spoke, sending Sarah into a fit of giggles and even causing Joel to briefly smile as his gaze made its way back to you.  

“Well I mean, it’s the truth. Next Friday is -” 

“He said the same thing.” Sarah sighed loudly, looking pointedly at you and then at Ellie. “That he’s too busy to go, and needs to work. On what, I have no idea because he’s only got the one project right now.” Glancing at Joel, you felt alarm bells ringing in your head. Something’s happening here. Something is … this isn’t… “Bet if he had a date he’d change his mind.” 

“That’s got nothing to do with it, Sarah. I -” He looked down at her and then back at you, realization in his eyes. 

“Why don’t you two go together?”  Ellie picked up a pen and started doodling on the margin of the clipboard paper, not making eye contact. “To the party, I mean. Neither of you have plans to go, and you’ve both got really lame excuses.” She paused, finally looking up. “And you haven’t been out on a date in -”

“Ellie!” You hissed out the word, feeling the way heat rose to your cheeks. She’s not wrong, but … “I have to work next weekend. It’s not -”

“Do you?” It was Joel’s voice that caught your attention, the man clearing his throat. “Because I could probably take a couple hour break.” You caught it even though it was brief - a fleeting look of shock on Sarah’s face, her eyes immediately going to Ellie. Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that either. “If you wanted to.” 

You wanted to - more than you were willing to admit. But it would be weird, even if we just did it as friends. “It’s the weekend before Christmas, and -”

“We can work.” Sarah cut in, nodding. “I’m already supposed to be here for part of the afternoon, I’ll just stay later.” She shrugged. “Besides, the store closes before the party is over, so I can just take the bus from -”

“I’ll drive you.” Ellie waved her hand. “I close next Friday.” The girls went quiet, looking between you and Joel, who was also watching you with interest, laughter in his eyes. This is … 

“I don’t know.” He frowned, keeping an eye on you as you spoke. “I feel like I should -” 

“Come outside and talk to me for a minute.” Joel picked up the bag, closing his fingers around the handles. “Away from these two.” That you had no problem agreeing to, Ellie waving you off and Sarah doing the same to her father. 

He held the door open for you, and when he joined you on the sidewalk a few seconds later, pointing in the direction of the small parking lot next to the building, you fell into step next to him. “We just got Parent Trap-ed, didn’t we.” He snorted, agreeing. “You didn’t have to ask me just to -”

“Who says that’s what I’m doing?” You reached his truck, Joel unlocking it and setting the bag down on top of the center console. “Maybe I just want to get to know you.” He straightened back up and closed the door, leaning against it when he turned to look at you. “Sarah’s been workin’ with you for six months, and she an’ Ellie have been going to school together for a couple years.” So that’s the only reason? Because of them? Your face fell; you couldn’t help it, and even though you were able to even out your expression quickly, you were sure that he’d noticed. 

“Yeah, I mean … they’re friends. So it would make sense for us to be, too.” Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “If you’re serious, I’ll go with you.” Crossing your arms, you nodded again, chewing on the inside of your lip. “It’s just a couple of hours, right? “ 

“Right.” Joel swallowed, running his fingers through his hair. “I can pick you up? Makes sense to take one car.” He’s so practical. Everything’s … matter of fact. In all of the daydreams you’d ever had about Joel, you’d never had anything close to the one that was coming true, and if you were honest with yourself, it was disappointing. He said your name, interrupting your pity party, and when you looked back up, he’d relaxed a little more, reaching into his pocket and pulling his phone out. “Can I have your number?

You recited it to him, Joel carefully typing it into the device and then turning the screen around to confirm that he’d entered it correctly. When you told him that you had, you nodded twice and took a deep breath, holding it. “Alright, Joel… so I’ll see you next week?” 

“No.” He smiled, the expression genuine. “I’ll see you next time I pick up or drop Sarah off and you’re here, too.” That made you laugh. When you said goodbye, you were slightly less unsettled than you had been, heading back for the store’s door so that you could tell Sarah it was ok for her to leave. 

She and Ellie were still standing by the counter when you went back inside, both of them turning to look at you in the same moment. “You’re good to go, Sarah. Your dad’s in the parking lot.” She nodded, zipping her jacket up. “But before you go… I don’t know what the two of you are trying to do here, but putting Joel and I on the spot wasn’t -”

“You’re going out with him, aren’t you?” Ellie scrunched her face up as she looked at you, eyes narrowing. “And you like him, so -”

“It made things awkward, El.” You looked at Sarah, sighing. “For him, too. So just … think about that, alright?” 

Neither of them said anything else to you, Sarah telling Ellie goodbye and then walking out the front door, leaving you and your niece alone. “Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.” You exhaled, rubbing at your eyes. “It’s just … weird.” And even weirder because of how awkward it feels.  The door opened and two customers walked in, effectively ending the conversation there, though you knew that you’d be continuing it when you got home. 

— 

You and Ellie made dinner together that night, but neither of you spoke while you did it, moving through the kitchen silently. It wasn’t until you were sitting at the table together, bowls of pasta in front of you that you broke the silence. 

“Why did you and Sarah decide to do that today?” She took a bite, chewing through it to give herself a chance to think of an answer. 

“Ever since I’ve been giving her lessons, we’ve been talking a lot more.” She bit down on a breadstick, waving the remainder in the air. “We’re friends already, but I’ve never really asked her about Joel until now, and …” She shrugged. “She said he hasn’t dated much lately. All he does is work and hang out with his brother and spend time with her.” Ellie paused, making sure to make eye contact with you. “Kind of like you only work at the store and hang out with me.” 

“That’s not true.” You gestured at her with your fork. “I have friends, Ellie. We just see each other less than we used to because they’ve all got really young kids and do that ‘mommy and me’ stuff with them.” Arching a brow, you cocked your head to the side. “And you’re a little old for tumbling classes or playtime at the park.” 

“But I could use swimming lessons.” You both laughed at that, though Ellie cut hers off only a few moments later. “No but seriously. When you took me in so that I could finish school here instead of going with Marlene, I didn’t think … I didn’t want you to just give up doing everything but …”

“Ellie, that’s not what happened.” You got up, moving to the other side of the table and sitting down next to her. “Your mom and Marlene and I were all really close, and after … after Anna was gone, I was more than happy to help Marlene out with you.” You squeezed her arm, leaning in. “I was the one that suggested you staying here, El. Your mom grew up here, and I wanted you to do the same. I didn’t want you having to uproot yourself every eight months for Marlene’s job. I love having you here. I didn’t give up anything.” 

She looked up then, meeting your eyes, and you saw uncertainty in them, though it was accompanied by relief. “I know. I just … it feels like everyone always leaves, and I’m afraid that you’re going to realize that you don’t want to do this with me anymore, and -”

“Ellie, you’ll be 18 next year and off to college. If anyone’s going to leave it’s you.” Taking a deep breath, you held your arms out to her. “I’m not going to leave you, kiddo. I promise.” She hugged you hard, but it didn’t last long, Ellie pulling away to look directly at you again. 

“This still doesn’t change the fact that you and Joel should … see what happens.” She blinked a few times, her expression changing into the same ‘take no shit’ look that you’d seen on it countless times before. “We’ve noticed how you look at him. And he -”

“He and I are going to the party together next Friday, Ellie.” Settling back into your chair, you drummed your fingers on the table. “He told me tonight that since you and Sarah are such good friends, it makes sense that we get to know each other, too.” She frowned at your words, but didn’t say anything. “It’s just a couple hours. It’ll be … fine.” 

“He said that? That’s not what we …” She shook her head, setting her fork down. “I’m done. Can I be excused? Do you need help cleaning up?” You told her to go, eyeing Ellie as she headed into the kitchen, plate in hand. You were used to her changes in mood, but that night was different, Ellie almost disappointed in your reaction to agreeing to go out with Joel, even though she’d orchestrated it. Returning to your side of the table, you finished your dinner, the sound of Ellie’s voice from the other room audible, though you couldn’t hear what she was saying. 

She went upstairs a few minutes later, and you followed, deciding to get ready for bed, even though it was early. I’ll put on pajamas and watch a movie or something. Maybe have a glass of - You were interrupted by the vibration of your phone, an unfamiliar number on the screen. 

“Hello?” Standing in front of your bedroom window, you held it to your ear. “This is -”

“It’s Joel.” Your eyes widened when he spoke, the man’s voice even deeper through the phone than it was in person. “I hate texting, so I thought I’d call.” You weren’t surprised, a quiet laugh escaping you before you were able to stop it. Fitting. “I was just informed by my daughter that I didn’t exactly explain myself well earlier.”

“What?” You didn’t understand - and then you groaned, covering your face with your hand. “Ellie. Ellie called Sarah and told her what we … Joel, I’m so sorry. Ellie and I talked while we ate, and I don’t want you to think that I was just complaining or -”

“You misunderstood what I was sayin’ before. Outside? When we were talking?” He cleared his throat and then continued. “You and I should be friends because of Ellie an’ Sarah. But that’s not why I agreed to go next week.” He paused, giving the shock you felt a chance to settle in your stomach. Why then? “I meant it when I said I wanted to get to know you.” 

That conversation was more in line with what you’d imagined Joel asking you out to be like, and despite your apprehension, you felt yourself relax slightly at his words. “I’d like to get to know you too, Joel.” Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “Sarah’s said some really good things about you.” 

“Ellie’s done the same about you when she’s been over.” He laughed - and you did, too, the tension entirely broken. “We’re going to watch a move, though, and she’s yellin’ up the steps at me, so I’ve gotta go.” He said your name then, the sound quiet - though his tone was certain. “When do you work next?” 

“Monday. I close. Why?” 

“No reason.” He hummed, and you heard another voice on Joel’s end of the line, the sound of Sarah shouting for him filling up the background. “I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night?” 

You assured him you would, and when you’d both hung up, you spent a few seconds staring at the darkened screen, unsure of what to think. 

— 

Monday night, you were getting ready to close the store and count down the drawer when the door opened, the sound of footsteps drawing your attention. “Hi, and welcome to Firefl- Joel? What are you doing here? Something wrong with those strings?” 

“Strings’re fine.” He stepped up to the counter and you couldn’t help looking him over - the man’s upper body encased in a long-sleeved shirt, both sleeves pushed up to expose his forearms. “I came to see you.” 

You were shocked. The day hadn’t exactly gone smoothly, and you were almost desperate to get out of the store and home. But not at the expense of whatever this is. “Me? Why? Is Sarah -”

“Sarah’s fine, too. She’s at soccer practice.” He glanced down at his watch, nodding. “I gotta go and pick her up in about twenty minutes.” That meant that whatever he was doing in your store wouldn’t take long, which confused you even more. “I have somethin’ for you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small envelope, sliding it across the counter. “Here.” 

You picked it up and thumbed it open, unsure of what to expect. And when you saw the contents, you actually laughed, looking up from what you held and at Joel’s face, the man’s lips set into a lopsided smile. “You took like … half a coffee from me one time, Joel. You didn’t need to …” Flipping the gift card back and forth between your fingers, you sighed. “Thank you.” You meant it, reaching over with your free hand to squeeze the one he’d let settle on the countertop. “I’ll definitely use it.” 

He looked down at the same time you did, your inhale sharp when you saw your joined hands. Oh, shit. I didn’t … “You’re welcome.” Joel cleared his throat, looking back up at you through his eyelashes. “Gift card was just an excuse, though. There’s…” He straightened up again and then pulled his hand back, reaching up with it to rub at the back of his neck. “Shit, I’m bad at this.” 

“Bad at what?” Sliding the card back into the envelope, you leaned over to tuck it into the space next to the register. “What are you -”

“Sarah and Ellie mighta been responsible for the other night, but …” He wet his lips, Joel’s jaw twitching before he continued. “She was right when she said I’ve only got one project right now, because we just finished another big one.” You’d heard Sarah mention that he’d been working long hours, but she hadn’t gone into much detail. “The company we did the work for is … real happy with the outcome, and they’re …” He cleared his throat. “They’re havin’ a Christmas party next Saturday, and we’re invited. I was just gonna go with Tommy, because I figured even though it’s a holiday, it’s still a good time for networkin’, but…” 

“But what?” You tucked the gift card back in the envelope and then slid it toward the register, tilting your head. “Joel?” 

He looked away, eyes wandering over the assortment of instruments and equipment on display throughout the store before they landed back on you. He was apprehensive - you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. What is going on? “Would you have any interest in goin’ with me?” 

“To the party?” He nodded. “Next Saturday?” He nodded again, but all you could do was stare at him in shock, trying to comprehend his words. Going together to the Chamber party was one thing - you and Joel were both well known throughout the community, and the two of you spending time together wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. But at a function for his job? Where he’d be the only one I really know? That’s… “As a favor? Just so you don’t have to -”

“No. As a date.” He swallowed hard after he’d spoken, his eyes widening slightly. “My date.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? We’ve never spent -”

“I don’t know yet.” His smile widened, Joel shrugging. “But I’m still asking.” 

You laughed, the sound nervous. “I only work until 3. What time would I need to be ready?”

“I can pick you up around six?” He swiped a hand over his beard, nodding. “Take us about a half hour to get there.” Taking someone to a holiday party as a date says something. And we’ve never … he’s asking me to … shit. “Before you agree, though…” Joel took a deep breath, his voice steadier. “The project we worked on is a new hotel up near Lake Travis. And they’re openin’ the rooms to people that night.” So it’s an overnight thing? “If you say yes, I’m more than happy to drive back.” 

“Would we have two rooms?” Your heartbeat elevated, you eyed him with interest. “Or two beds, at least?”

“Two rooms. They offered a room to me an’ Tommy each, so if you come with me, you’d have one of them to yourself.” He held up a hand, shaking his head back and forth. “I’m not expectin’ anything, I just -”

“Yes.” You nodded, absolutely certain in your decision. “I’d like to go with you, Joel.” He looked surprised, his lips parting, though he didn’t speak. “Is there a dress code?” 

“Yeah. There is.” He pressed his lips together and then frowned. “Festive.” You burst out laughing at that, covering your eyes with your hands. “Why are you laughing?”

“Festive can mean anything from an ugly sweater to red and green but formal, and -”

“The hell if I’m wearin’ that.” He snorted, and then started laughing, too. “The invitation wasn’t real clear, so…”

“Festive probably means cocktail attire, Joel, but with a holiday twist that isn’t as formal.” You shrugged. “But that works for me. I’ve got a few things that will fit that requirement.” And so do the stores. “Um.” Blowing out a breath, you tried to compose yourself. “Are … does Sarah know you’re asking?”

“No.” He shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip. “She knows I’m goin’, but not about this.” So I won’t tell Ellie. Got it. “Those little shits intervened with me asking you to the other party, but not this one.” Biting back another laugh, you nodded in agreement. 

“They’re going to figure it out.” Narrowing your eyes, you leaned in. “When we’re both getting ready and then gone next Saturday night, and -”

“Yep.” He nodded, the expression on his face serious, though the look in his eyes was anything but. “But at least we won’t have to listen to ‘em all week beforehand.” You laughed again, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna go, though. I don’t want to be late picking her up.” 

You nodded, lifting your hand and waving - not trusting yourself to speak. But when he reached the door and turned his head to look back at you from over his shoulder, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Joel?” He hummed, arching a brow. “I’m looking forward to next weekend.” 

He smiled - a broad, genuine one - and reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me too.”

---

Part 2

[infinitywrites]

I Didn't Expect You Part 2 ~ Conrad Fisher

(Part 1) (Masterlist) (Part 3)

gif credit @madscline

synopsis: Y/N never expected it to be the summer that everything changed. Conrad, Belly and Steven were all dealing with the consequences of recent break ups whiles Jeremiah's wasn't acting like himself. Susannah was undergoing treatment that provided unpredictable health results and kept her loved ones on the edge of tragedy. Had they drained the well of the magic of Cousin's beach? Or could something new fulfil it again?

warnings: multichapter slow burn, warnings will update with every chapter, timeline is both POST S2 and a retelling of S2 with changes, everyone swears, Laurel/Cleveland, Susannah is sick, otherwise lots of fluff in this one

word count: 4,434

___________________________________________

I just wanna know you better,

know you better, know you better now

All I know since yesterday is

Everything has changed

After I snuck in a power nap after unpacking with Belly, I headed down to the kitchen to check on the plan for dinner. I'd always looked forward to visiting Cousin's to taste Susannah's Pinterest recipe of the month. I shouldn't have been surprised to see Jeremiah at the stove stirring something aromatic, warming the kitchen up. "Well, look who's taken up the mantle of vacation cook." I teased and patted his back lightly after a quick peek over his shoulder at the sauce simmering.

"Not just vacation cook, either. Just wait, I've gotten a lot better in a year." Jere smiled through his intense focus and turned his head towards Laurel sitting at the island. "I'm ready for the carrots now, Laur."

As she dumped the shredded carrots into the sauce, she assured me when I sent a raised brow her way, "Don't worry, I'm just helping with prep. Cleveland is actually looking forward to impressing you all with his culinary skills so Jeremiah can actually enjoy his summer."

Jeremiah never took his eyes off the pot, "I told you, I'm into this now. Maybe I'm destined to be a famous chef!"

"You just had to add 'famous' in there, didn't you." Conrad turned the corner into the kitchen and flicked his brother in the ear. Jeremiah smacked his hand away as they both snorted a laugh.

"What can I say? I dream big!"

My hands found my hips without even noticing, "I'm really proud of you, Jere. It smells incredible. No thanks to Conrad." I shot my glare directly at him when his name left my lips.

He'd lifted two grocery bags onto the counter by the sink and was starting to unload vegetables when he scoffed. "Hey! I went all the way to the farmer's market to get stuff for the salad, if you must know. Actually make yourself useful and chop these." He tossed me a cucumber and a pepper before I could tell him that's the exact reason I came down in the first place. I got distracted by my own thoughts when he threw a big tomato that should have splattered all over the floor if not for sheer dumb luck. Conrad paused and mimicked throwing a radish bunch before I stared him down mouthing 'don't you dare'. When he finished washing the lettuce, he slid next to me at the island and pulled out the salad spinner.

Luckily there weren't any more shenanigans as we all worked together to finish the pasta, salad and fresh garlic baguette that Jeremiah swore was an elevated form of garlic bread he'd learned about from Top Chef. Conrad pointed out that he was surprised he picked anything useful up while watching Padma Lakshmi. Eventually Belly and Steven joined as a clean up crew, while Laurel set the table just like Susannah used to have it done up. Cleveland complimented Jeremiah's hard work and thanked Conrad for the quick surfing lesson before he'd tested his limits that afternoon. When everything was ready, Laurel went to get Susannah and the room was in a standstill. The anticipation was suffocating. It wasn't until Belly reached out and grabbed my hand that I realized I was holding my breath.

Susannah walked slowly, supported gently by her elbows by Laurel, with her signature bright grin for everyone in the room. She looked both better and worse than I'd seen her last. It was incredible what a sunny disposition could do and Susannah was the best at it seconded only by Jeremiah, with her sparkling blue eyes. The build up released into an awkward tension for exactly three seconds before Susannah sighed, "I can't believe you guys let me sleep all the way until dinner. Who's sneaky idea was that?" Her eyes scanned the room while Laurel chuckled by her side.

"That was all big brother over here, Mom. We wanted to surprise you!" Jeremiah smacked his brother in the chest as Conrad hung his head waiting for his mother's reaction.

"We had everything under control, Mom." He said and I glanced his way, taking in the new information until Conrad caught my eye and I looked back at Susannah in a flash. I kinda felt bad for giving him shit after hearing that.

"Of course you did, sweet boy, but I'm feeling good and next time I want a chance to order everyone around the kitchen." Laurel sat Susannah down at the head of the table while Jeremiah got to work fixing her a plate.

Cleveland, Conrad and Steven grabbed the various serving dishes and took their seats while I heard Steven yell back, "You got it, Susannah. I'm not going the whole summer without your jambalaya."

Dinner went smoothly after that. Susannah's spirit was as full as her energy when she focused on catching up with everyone around the table. Everyone complimented Jeremiah's culinary progress and Cleveland joined him in plans to treat everyone to a weekend feast before we all parted ways. Steven even talked a little bit about his breakup with Shayla and I reached over to give his hand a quick squeeze when his mouth turned down at the corners. Laurel got quiet before she admitted she couldn't believe how grown up Steven had gotten all of a sudden. The mood lightened a bit when he rolled his eyes and teased her for making his breakup about her empty nest syndrome.

Steven had been my best friend as long as I'd been staying at Cousin's over the past eight summers or so. Mom said it gave me a necessary break from the monotony of her condition and when Auntie Laur split from Uncle John, she said they needed me more than she did. Steven's breakup with Shayla happened before Prom at least and he seemed more angry than hurt after he talked to her the last time. Long distance was hard and she wasn't planning on coming back before Steven was headed to Princeton anyway. It was what was best for both of them and he knew it too. I tried to lift his mood after he got his Princeton acceptance a few weeks later by reminding him that he would have hated being tied down freshman year. Now he could charm his way around campus all he wanted without feeling a lick of guilt. This got the first smile out of him I'd seen since his Prom photos. He'd made the most of that night at least.

Jeremiah seemed to have the same idea and said, "This is exactly what you want though, Steve-O. No strings. No commitments. Focus on school…and Jersey girls." He really wasn't as slick as he thought when he put a hand up to direct the last part away from the parents. Conrad and Steven still shrugged and chuckled amongst themselves like he'd had a point.

"All right. New topic. I know you're dying to ask Y/N about Stanford and this is your moment." Laurel waved her hand to both shut Jeremiah up and encourage Susannah at the same time.

She put her hands down on the table for emphasis as her gaze narrowed in on me, "I can't believe you're going to Stanford in the fall. It's so exciting!"

"I'm glad you approve." I couldn't help but let the smile stretch my face at her joy.

"Approval, are you kidding? My little California twin." Susannah winked in my direction and I could have sworn I saw Conrad watching the scene play out.

"You can take the girl out of Cali but you can't take the Cali out of the girl." Laurel sing-songed as she finished her glass of wine.

"Why you gotta be so lame about it, Laur?" Susannah's shoulders dropped and she sent an exasperated look to her lifelong friend.

When Susannah got like this it always made us laugh and this time it was no different. Sometimes the only adult in the room was Laurel so at least she had Cleveland around, who was just listening attentively and taking in the group dynamics.

Laurel looked shocked for a second and cut back, "You're the one who–All right," and huffed in defeat before she turned back to me. "I'm excited for you too, Y/N. Beck's right, a change of scenery and a fresh start is an incredible opportunity at your age wherever you go."

Jeremiah was looking at Conrad when he said, "Summer everyday sounds pretty good to me," and punched his brother's arm which made me furrow my brow in confusion.

Susannah glanced their way with a mischievous look, "You know, I always told Conrad he'd find himself in the West coast."

Conrad looked at them both,"Subtle, mom."

"Well, if you aren't going to tell them–"

My jaw must have been on the floor as I gaped at him. "Wait, you're–"

"I'm waiting on late admission offers. Mom convinced me to apply over Christmas break." He shrugged it off like it wasn't a big deal but everyone knew the meltdown I'd had at the end of last summer trying to perfect my Stanford application.

Belly added with a teasing tone, "He made me proofread his essay like five times."

"Yeah, me too," Cleveland pointed at him and shook his head.

"OhmiGod, did everyone know but me? The person already going?" Steven looked scared as he swore he didn't so I looked around the table in disbelief and finally landed on Belly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't look at me! I told him to tell you." Belly raised her palms in surrender.

My eyes went back to Conrad who's smile just grew, "It's a big campus. We don't have to see each other." He shrugged again and dove into his second helping of pasta.

My face dropped as I rolled my eyes and swore to ignore him for the rest of the night. Susannah sighed and caught my eye, "Don't listen to him, Y/N. He's terrified of moving so far away from his mommy–"

"Hey!" Conrad tried to interrupt but he was laughing almost immediately when he heard Steven and Jeremiah break.

Susannah continued despite his protest and the howling in the background, "so I'm putting you in charge of him. I wanna see you both back at Christmas with the best tans of your life."

Jeremiah was dying and hitting his brother in the chest, "Okay, but is she wrong though?"

"Fuck you, bro. You still live with her!"

Jeremiah sobered long enough to utter, "And I cherish every second." He blew his mother a kiss like the charmer he always was and Susannah smiled stretched a little further.

When the boys finally settled down, it was time for dessert that Conrad had picked up from the market and snuck into the fridge without my knowledge at least. Strawberry shortcake; one of Susannah's favourites and we all assured her that while it was decadent, it still wasn't as good as her recipe. After the cake was polished off, I ran upstairs to slip into my swimsuit and coverup dress in case I felt like a dip in the pool once the food settled. A few of us tried to offer our help to Cleveland but he insisted that he had a clean up ritual he really enjoyed as long as we gave him the space to do so. He said it was a thank you to everyone for the meal and the invitation.

Conrad came up behind him and patted him on the chest, "I was just an errand boy and didn't know you were coming so have at it, boss!" And exited quickly out the backdoor, already pulling a joint out of his pocket.

Steven's eyes followed him even as Jeremiah was trying to make plans to head down to the beach for the bonfire. "Uh, yeah man. I'm down. Gimme a second to change and I'll meet you out front." Steven nodded in his direction as Jeremiah agreed and headed for the door.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite and everything but I no longer have the energy or the patience for bonfire party bullshit." I teased in Steven's direction, who was still staring out the backdoor.

When he finally looked my way again, he looked sheepish, "Yeah, yeah. I was gonna invite you but I figured as much. It was never really your scene."

"You know me well. Have fun though, seriously." I was about to walk away when Steven asked me to wait.

"Hey, do you think you could talk to Conrad?"

There's nothing he could have said that would have shocked me less. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I know. It's weird but…he's been off since we got here and Jere said longer. I don't know if it's Belly or just Susannah stuff but…"

"Did you hear him at dinner? What makes you think he wants to talk to me?"

Steven gives me a look like it's the stupidest thing I could have asked him so I concede. "Okay, whatever. Other than my family shit."

"You've always been the person who makes me feel better when…-like with Shayla. I think, no, I know he needs some of that right now." Steven always had the most effective puppy dog eyes. I was too weak to resist.

"I guess…I can try." I moved my gaze to a dark figure sat by the pool and started mentally preparing myself.

He started to back away but wouldn't take his eyes off me until he saw me heading outside. "Yes! You're amazing. I owe you, for sure."

I spat over my shoulder, "You think?"

"Okay, now. Before Jere leaves without me."

"Jeez, I'm going." Steven watched as I opened the sliding door and mouthed his thank you before jogging back upstairs to get ready for the bonfire.

The sun was almost down and the pool lights lit up the yard as the smoke wafted from the shadowed figure sitting on the edge. I rolled my eyes at my own apprehension and took a seat beside him before I lost my nerve entirely. The water was just cool enough to make the summer heat bearable for more than a few minutes.

"What's up?" He didn't look my way, occupied with his ritual.

I decided to start casually and try to work up to the kind of talk Steven was expecting. I still wasn't convinced that Conrad would be open to talking at all let alone to me. "Steven and Jere are headed to the bonfire soon. I wasn't sure if they told you."

He nodded. "You're not going?"

"No, the day was long enough. I came out here to stop myself from falling asleep on the couch." I kicked my feet in the water and debated splashing him.

"So much for Belly's power naps." He chuckled and finally glanced in my direction.

"Whatever, they work for her but I'm the one who drove us here." I shrugged.

There was a beat of silence before I pressed again. "What about you? Why aren't you going?"

"Same as you. Tired."

I tried not to let myself get too frustrated by his lack of response. It was weird behaviour from him though, "Hm."

That caught his attention again, "What?"

"Nothing. It's just, we know the bonfire was never my scene but you always went."

"And now I've accepted that it's not my scene either." There was an edge to his voice that told me to drop it.

"Fair enough… I was uh, I was gonna swim." I probably should have jumped in and splashed the shit out of him but there was an uneasiness that got to me.

"Okay. Don't mind me."

I stripped down to my one piece and kicked my dress and sandals a few feet away before driving in. The water really was the perfect temperature to be refreshing after the heat and stress of a long day. It felt good to stretch my limbs and work the muscles that no doubt were starting to cramp from driving for hours and falling asleep in an awkward position. Everytime I looked up, Conrad's eyes were on me and I struggled between meeting them for a few seconds before I realized he wouldn't be the first to look away. Belly had told me once that Conrad was confident in a way she'd never seen before. Shameless even, when he looked at her sometimes and she worried she'd never feel butterflies like that again. That same look intimidated other guys and coined him 'the mysterious type' around the Cousin's beach crowd. Belly said as she grew up, she'd hold his gaze longer and longer to test her theory and never saw him break concentration before her heart felt like it would beat right out of her chest. I had no intention of testing said theory and redirected my breaststroke in the opposite direction.

His joint getting smaller was the only real indicator that time was passing at all. The smell was annoying, of course, but it seemed to be wafting above me so I could admire the look of it dissipating into nothing instead. It was probably half an hour later, Conrad still perched on the pool's edge, when I climbed up the ladder, towelled off and sat back down beside him.

I looked at him, blowing smoke out over the pool water again, "Okay seriously, why didn't you tell me?"

He wouldn't look at me now, like he was sick of the sight but he still knew what I meant. "Do you own the school now?"

It didn't take much to deadpan my response. "You're funny."

He tried again. "So what? We tell each other things now?"

"When they directly impact each other's lives? Sure we do." I decided to let him get out whatever snark he needed before I got a real answer. This wouldn't turn into another stupid fight; we were too old for that shit now.

He narrowed his eyes in my direction. "You know I don't owe you anything just because we could be at the same school and living in the same state, right?"

And all of a sudden the plan went out the window and Steven would just have to accept that I tried and failed. "Okay, Conrad…" I got up to leave and went to bring my things inside.

"No, wait! I'm sorry. I–I dunno why I'm being such a dick."

I paused with an armful and hadn't decided yet if I wanted to listen to him. "Probably because you're so good at it."

"Okay, I'm sorry. Honestly. Belly was right, I should have told you when I applied. I just…I thought it might piss you off."

That made me turn to look his way, his head hung between his shoulders and his face lit up light blue and sullen as ever. "Since when do you care if you piss me off?"

"Now! Now, I do. With this. I didn't want you to think I was encroaching on your thing or following you or something. My mom's been talking to me about going to Cali since the beginning of high school but I never really thought–not with everything that happened."

The mask seemed to be gone now and that was the only reason I sighed and sat back down. Maybe Steven was right; maybe Conrad wanted to talk in his Conrad way. "I didn't think you were following me. Or encroaching. I just didn't expect you to wanna leave right now so I was even more surprised to hear it at all."

"I don't but…" It was like he was losing his words or thoughts halfway into getting them out. Maybe it was the weed going to his head. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Of course we would see each other at school. You know, if you want to. It's nice to know we wouldn't have to figure everything out alone there, right? It's exciting." He sounded sincere until he mocked the excitement.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah…and Jere's right too. I'm worried about being so far away from Mom."

"She seems really excited for you. You're giving her what she wants, you know."

"I know, I'm just used to being an hour away at Brown and that was bad enough. Let alone six and that's just the flight." He got worked up by the thought alone and my heart clenched in my chest for him. I knew that feeling. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Conrad took a moment to collect his thoughts before he let out a deep breath. "You've come here every summer for years and you're away from your mom for so long. How do you…?"

I audibly sighed and started chuckling at myself before I could stop it, "Is it a cop out if I say practice? No, that's partly true. It gets easier and it helps that I know my dad is dedicated to taking care of her. And when I'm there there's nothing I can really do to help. I think that's the worst part actually. Sorry, I–"

"No, I asked."

I looked at him then and it was one of the few times I knew he was really listening to me. "A few years ago, I think I was 13, I begged my mom to let me stay home that summer. It was really bad for a little bit before and I just thought, what if I miss it? What if I'm not there? She said I was grasping for control I never really had. I was trying to pause my life for something inevitable. And not only was that not fair to myself but it wasn't fair to her either."

His eyes fell as he nodded and then flashed a small smile, "The moms must be conspiring behind our backs because that sounds suspiciously like what Mama Beck Fisher said about Stanford. Do the thing that scares you. That's how you really live."

I laughed a little at the sentiment. "Sounds like you got a cooler version at least."

"It's not like I didn't know about your mom but…I don't think I ever realized–"

"It's okay, Conrad." I shook my head, wanting to avoid that line of thought.

"You just seem so together all the time." I could feel his direct gaze when he said it even when I wanted to laugh in his face.

"I'm not, I just…when it comes to Susannah I feel like I've done this before. Been here. The worst fucking kind of familiarity. I don't even know what that has to do with anything, I just think I don't feel it yet. Not really. God, does that make me horrible?"

Conrad immediately shook his head in reassurance as I took a steading breath. "No. I don't think so, anyway. I think it'll catch up to you but…would you promise you'll tell me if– if you wanna to talk about it ever? You know if Steve-O or Belly aren't around. I dunno, maybe it'd help me to be there for someone else, you know?"

I turned my head to gape at him for the second time that night but he wasn't looking back at me this time. He was inhaling the smoke and blowing it over the pool again like he'd been doing for over an hour now. "Yeah sure."

He nodded once and put it out on the concrete and then away in his pocket before he lifted himself up.

I had to ask before he walked away, "Hey, Con?" I didn't continue until he turned a bit to acknowledge me. "Stanford is what you want too, right? It's not just for Susannah?"

A smile grew across his face, "You think I would've put myself through that brutal application process if I didn't?"

I coughed a laugh at his quick mood change, "That's right. I forgot about those ten proofreads."

He shook his head in amusement, "Exaggeration. Besides, I might as well follow my built-in babysitter."

"Fucking hell…" I winced as my head hung between my shoulders this time.

"Can't take it back now! Mama's boy like me, I'll never make it on my own!"

"I never agreed to that!" I said louder than I meant to in my frustration. It had been dark for a while even though I had no idea what time it was. "Would you keep it down?!?"

Conrad opened the sliding door and scolded, "Shh Y/N, the neighbours!"

I was left with the usual exasperation that was signature oldest Fisher and everything felt right in the world again. Well kinda. It should satisfy Steven anyway and I could mark it off as my good deed of the week. I looked out over the view and thought about the strange connection you had with the Fishers now. My mom had had MS for as long as I could remember and the constant state of grief in my house growing up was as normal as anything else in my life. Everyday was clouded with some difficulty, old or new, and the only real reprieve was summer with my cousins at Susannah's beach house. I could be a different person there who no one really knew outside my family, Fishers included. I'd even heard the whispers of my quiet, closed off nature and it always put a smirk on my face. It was like a fresh start at the end of every school year even if I didn't change at all. I could pretend for a few months that I was a normal girl who's biggest problem was my baby cousin's unrequited crush on an unattainable older jock, my sad lack of crush to obsess over instead and my best friend's tendency to get himself into trouble without ever trying.

A yawn pulled me from my thoughts and I gathered my things and climbed the stairs towards the quiet upstairs. I heard the shower running but didn't think anything of it as I passed the bathroom until the door swung open and the yellow light hit my peripheral vision. I looked right at Conrad walking across the hall to his room. He was noticeably wet-skinned and sauntering in a pair of boxers. The moment lasted a second before my eyes caught his trailing down and then back up to my eyes as he ruffled his wet hair with a towel. And then the door was shut and I turned away and shook my head to rattle my brain awake enough to make it to my bed in one piece. There was no counting for the ways in which the first night at Cousin's beach could mess with my head.

Next

___________________________________________

author's note: I'm blown away by the response and hope this next chapter lived up to expectations! Thank you so much for the support 🩵💙💚💛. I meant to get into the 4th of July party in this part but it got away from me so that's up next! Do the changes make sense? Y/N's backstory? More explanation is coming but please let me know if anything is too confusing to follow. Reply with comments and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. If you'd like to ask me about any upcoming chapter warnings you wanna be warned of ahead of time (angst? 18+ smut?) then come visit my blog with any questions and I'll be happy to answer!

taglist: @c4rpediem-s @jackierose902109 @lcvecstiel @h0t-as-h3ll @fandom-addict404

[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Carnal

Summary: Mattheo Riddle meets an unforgettable, mysterious Hufflepuff and spends the school year fighting his feelings.

Warnings: None, just so much sweetness and typical Mattheo behavior.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle X f!OC

Word count: 1, 817

A/N: I'm so excited to post this story that I've been imagining for months. I really hope you guys like my OC, whose name shall not be revealed until the end. Oh, also for this series let’s pretend they start Hogwarts at 12 years old, making them both 15-16 in this chapter.

Divider Credit to @enchanthings

Check out my Mattheo and f!OC mood boards here!

From the day she stopped Mattheo and his Slytherin friends from picking on a first year, he should have hated her. He wanted to. He needed to. But he couldn’t. The way she had protected the young girl, stepped in front of their jinxes, shaken off the pain like it was nothing, and still not said a cruel word in return as she expertly blocked their spells, had sparked a curiosity about her that he had been fighting ever since. 

Maybe that’s just what Hufflepuffs do, he thought to himself as he snuck a peek at her across the great hall a few days later. No, his gut told him a different story, that’s just what she does. 

Life went on, as it always does, but for Mattheo it was different. His eyes searched every room for her, even as he scolded himself for hoping to find her. Why the hell do you care about this girl, she’s just a stupid muggleborn. Nothing special. His stomach clenched and he broke out in a cold sweat, body physically rejecting the thought. Alright, alright, I get it. 

He didn’t even know her name, had never bothered to remember it, but desperation to know her grew in him like an infection with only one cure. Before long he was ditching his friends to snag a seat near her in classes, waiting around in hallways to walk behind her, listening intently to every conversation for her name. His efforts were rewarded, at least partially, when professor McGonagall directed a question to a “Miss Waters”. His breath caught as her head whipped up and she hesitantly, but correctly, answered. 

Waters. Mattheo sighed softly as her back straightened with pride for a few seconds and she pushed her long ponytail over her shoulder. The pale blonde strands were like moonbeams against her black robe and it took everything in him to resist the urge to reach out to touch them. Oh for fucks sake. Get yourself together, Mattheo. You’ve got her last name, now let it go. 

He tried. He truly did. He spent the next few months forcing himself to ignore her, rolling his eyes every time her sweet voice filled the room, chastising himself whenever his thoughts drifted to her. And it worked. Well enough. Well enough that he could pretend he wasn’t dying to be near her. Well enough that he convinced himself dreaming about a classmate, a very pretty classmate, was a perfectly normal thing for a teenage boy. Well enough that he was no longer scouring his mind to come up with her first name. But the end of the school year was rapidly approaching and he knew if he didn’t discover her name, get to know even that tiny detail about her, she would haunt him all summer long. 

The last morning of the year Mattheo woke before dawn. Laying in the dark he contemplated his options, knowing it was now or never. I’ve only got a few hours left, he thought with a yawn, how am I going to get her alone today of all days? It’s always so chaotic, students running about saying goodbyes, the slow shuffle to the train - the train! That’s it, I’ll find her on the train. He clapped his hands together before he realized what he was doing, fighting back his chuckles as startled groans sounded around the room, the other boys unhappy they were so rudely awakened. He got out of bed, heading for the bathroom before one of the other boys could get there first, a small smile on his face. 

Having decided he should get to the train platform early so he wouldn’t miss her, Mattheo skipped breakfast, hanging around the Slytherin table saying goodbyes to the few other students he knew, bag over his shoulder, ready to leave this place behind. He searched the Hufflepuff table but didn’t see her. She must still be packing like all the other girls. Almost an hour before everyone else he left the castle. 

He ran, as fast as he could, to the train, collapsing as he reached the top step to the platform. His heart pounded in his ears, he was sure he was having a heart attack. Suddenly the very voice he was longing to hear rang through the air, a sweet “are you alright?”. Oh gods, I’m dying. He attempted to stand, leaning against the stone wall, groaning. I’m actually dying and to make it worse I’m hallucinating her voice. 

“I said, are you alright, Mattheo?” Her voice again, I really am losing it. A hand gripped his chin, gently lifting it upwards. His eyes followed slowly, his vision blurred with tears as he squinted into the sunlight. “Mattheo?” His eyes opened wide as he looked into clear blue eyes staring back at him. Oh gods, it really is her. He forced his head back down, his lips grazing her palm before she slipped her hand away. He needed a moment. His heart was pounding again, but for a different reason now. It was the first time he had ever seen her out of uniform and he was certain his mind was playing tricks on him. Was she really wearing- did I really just see that?

He lifted his head slowly this time, eyes drinking in every inch of her. Her black vans stood almost toe to toe with his dirty old converse. There were little white flowers on her shoes, what are those called again? I really should know this- The thought vanished in his mind as his eyes moved further up. Are those snakes on her tights?! Holy shit, they are! He groaned again, hoping she would assume the pained sound was related to his run. He tried not to shift around too much as his pants grew tight, body reacting to the sight of her. His eyes widened as they reached the hem of her pleated, red plaid mini skirt, the little chains hanging over her hips almost making him lose control. He had to bite back a growl as his eyes traveled over her torso, the little flashes of pale skin visible through her ripped shirt making his knees weak. He was hopeless to control the low, desire choked laugh that escaped him as he read the words printed on her chest. Witchy Woman. He would gladly drop to his knees and let her perform all kinds of magic over him, half convinced she already had. She wore more makeup than usual, her eyes seductively lined, gods those eyes, as she looked down at him. But her pale pink lips remained bare, begging to be kissed until they were raw and red, a wish his own body was demanding he make come true. Who knew this quiet Hufflepuff would turn out to be my punk princess. What a day.  

Rising to full height, ignoring the obvious bulge in his pants, he nodded, knowing full well nothing but rude remarks about her looks and ways to satisfy his desire would come from his mouth right now. He watched her turn back to the wall, only now noticing she didn’t have any bags with her. He was so confused by this he didn’t even try to get a peek under her skirt as she hoisted herself up. 

“How come you’re here so early?” He leaned against the wall next to her, looking up at her. “Why haven’t you got any bags?” 

“Haven’t got very far to go.” She shrugged, blonde hair falling around her shoulders as she looked down at him. 

He was unsatisfied with her answer, but let it go, turning his head to look down at Hogsmead. Nothing about this was going the way he had imagined, but he was determined to at least get one straight answer. “What’s your name?” 

She didn’t answer, instead looking up as though sensing something he hadn’t. Smiling, she turned and jumped off the backside of the wall.

“Hey!” Mattheo called after her, moving to the railing of the stairs he had just climbed to look for her. A soft “oh” left him as he came face to face with her. She smiled, spinning the stem of a small white flower between her fingers, a second one tucked behind her ear. Her hair threatened to overtake the delicate flower and without thinking he reached out, brushing the shell of her ear, tucking her soft hair back into place. Gods she’s beautiful. She reached for his hand, placing the flower on his palm. 

“Daisy.” 

He smiled down at the tiny flower, in awe of its delicate beauty. “Daisy.” How fitting. When he looked up she was gone, winding her way down the staircase, heading for the village. Mattheo ripped his eyes away from her as the brakes of the train squeaked to life just feet away from him, his hand instinctively closing around the fragile flower. He smiled as the red and black steam engine slowed. How had she known it was coming before I did? 

Dropping the small flower into the pocket of his shirt to keep safe, he turned back to catch a final glimpse of her. He spotted her climbing over the large boulders near the embankment of the river on the east side of the village, surprised when she threw her hand into the air and waved at him with excellent accuracy. Did she just guess I was watching her? Can she even see me from down there? Chuckling as she moved out of view, he boarded the train, leaning his head against the open window of a compartment. 

He pulled the flower out of his pocket, bringing it to his face. There’s something special about you, Daisy Waters. Gently, he dragged the flower across his lips, closing his eyes. Something very special indeed. 

His eyes still closed he sat back in his seat, one hand rifling through his bag for his journal, pausing suddenly. Over the noise of the train and the carriages beginning their journey towards the school, The wind carried a sound Mattheo never expected to hear. Is that a wolf? The heartbreaking sound of the howl pierced his heart, he knew a lonely creature when he heard one. Before he knew what he was doing he cupped his hands around his lips and howled back, one lone wolf to another. The wolf answered him, and for the second time that day, during the few brief moments as they howled together, Mattheo felt as though he belonged. 

He sat still for a long time, listening closely for the wolf to call again, but even when it didn’t, he smiled. The wolf was free and wild, something he longed to have in common, something he was determined to make true for himself one day. He pulled his journal out, tucked the little daisy between its pages, smiling as he thought about his Daisy. 

[authorautumnbanks]

Stranded With A Demon Lord and the Strongest Sorcerer (4)

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2

Read Chapter 3

Your cock leaks every time Kagome smiles at you.

Fuck. Why does that keep popping up in his mind? Satoru stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks everywhere but at Kagome. The sky doesn't look too bad now. Maybe he's getting used to the yellowness of it.

"I don't have swimming shorts," he says, lamely. He should think about this rescue mission, but his mind is fixated on what will happen tonight. They can't all bathe together. Surely, she meant one at a time.

"You can just go in first. Promise not to peek." Kagome smiles and motions over her heart. "Unless you're shy?" She frowns and tugs at her bottom lips. "I guess I could put up two barriers then. Sesshomaru and I bathe together all the time, so it's no biggie."

They bathe together regularly? She wants to bathe with him?

Satoru tries to will the imagery away, but it sticks to him like honey. Sweet. Tempting. He should be worrying about how to get back to his world. His students are in danger. Those special grades are running around. He needs to put Suguru's body to rest. The higher-ups are probably scheming.

And yet, instead of worrying about those things, he is disoriented by these feelings bubbling in his gut.

"I'm not shy," he scoffs, playing it off. "And you can look all you want."

Kagome stares at him and then laughs. "You're silly." She pats his chest and keeps walking. The wildflowers tilt in her direction as if nature itself is drawn to her.

What? What just happened?

"Wait! You aren't curious?" He jogs up to her. How the hell does she walk so fast when she's so short?

"The priestess does not wish to look upon your cock," Sesshomaru says.

"Oh, but you do?" He teases, though inside he is dying. Embarrassment is a foreign concept to him and sadly, he is becoming far too used to this feeling.

Sesshomaru stops and bares his fangs. His eyes flash red and a sliver of excitement shoots up Satoru's spine.

Kagome looks at them. "Have you been with a human?"

Sesshomaru's jaw ticks. "I have seen the male human form and was not impressed."

"Because they don't have decorations?"

"WHAT?" Satoru holds up his hands. Did he hear her right? "What do you mean by decorations?"

Kagome shrugs. "Demon ones usually have some kind of gimmick to them. Sesshomaru is a dog demon, so..." she trails off.

"You may continue," Sesshomaru says.

"Right. Sesshomaru is a dog demon, so he knots and he has markings, like, on his face and his wrists." Kagome takes Sesshomaru's hand and holds it up. "Like these." She brushes her thumb over the markings, and Satoru swears, Sesshomaru shivers.

He clears his throat. "So, Sesshomaru has never been with a human, and I've obviously never been with a demon. What about you?"

Kagome drops Sesshomaru's hand and tilts her head. He stands up straighter under her perusal. "Human. Never been with one."

Huh?

"What? Really? Even though you're human?"

"Can't say humans really do it for me." Kagome lifts one shouter. "Too tame."

Too tame? What does that mean?

"The priestess may look innocent, but she likes bloodshed."

"Hey! That makes it seem like I enjoy coming across crimes."

Sesshomaru rolls his eyes. "Aggressive males. Is that better?"

"Thank you."

"This Sesshomaru is surprised you did not settle down with the wolf. Was it the other female?"

"Eh, I didn't mind Ayame. But everyone stayed in the same den, like there were no separate rooms." She shakes her head and resumes walking. "I'd go to visit and there'd be an orgy in the middle, demons eating in a corner, and another group playing sticks, while the actual wolves lounged around."

"I'm sorry. The what now?" Satoru scratches his head. "Forget it. How'd you two meet? Sesshomaru doesn't seem to like many people." What kind of world does she come from that orgies are no big deal? Are all the humans like her or is she just insane?

"Oh! He tried to kill me," Kagome chirps.

Satoru pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Kagome may be insane. She would make a great sorcerer with that attitude.

"The priestess has an unnatural resistance to death."

"Yeah, he tried to melt me, but it didn't work." She flashes a smile at Sesshomaru. "Eventually, I stopped shooting my arrows at him and he stopped trying to melt me. Now we're friends."

Friends? Yeah, he believes that, not.

"Friends that have seen each other naked."

Kagome hums. "I wear a bathing suit."

Sesshomaru snorts.

"What? You got a problem with it?"

"It covers nothing. Why you insist on wearing it is beyond this Sesshomaru."

"Ignore him. It covers everything."

Satoru nods. Perhaps Kagome's definition of covering is skewed. He won't say it out loud, but he is inclined to believe Sesshomaru on this one.

"Are we even going the right way?" Kagome asks.

"Yes. I have the foul scent of the banished one." Sesshomaru pulls out the scrap of fabric the goblins provided and then slides back... where the hell is he hiding that when he doesn't have pockets?

Satoru bites his bottom lip. "So, you've never been curious about being with a human? I mean, we've already slept together."

Sesshomaru glares at him.

"We could probably find an inn if you need to let off some steam," Kagome says. "We don't have any coin or whatever their currency is, but that probably wouldn't be a deal breaker for you."

"No, I meant—"

"The priestess does not—"

"It's fine," Kagome interrupts. "I know you're grateful that we saved you, but you don't have to pay us back. And besides, it would be awful if you fell in love with me." Kagome laughs.

Did he just get rejected?

Kagome turns her head, but not fast enough because he spots the pink flush.

Oh? So, she's not as unaffected by him as he thought.

Wait. Why is he relieved by that? It's not like he wants Kagome... okay, he'd fuck, but he's not trying to be in a relationship with her. Satoru glances at Sesshomaru.

He should fall back. Those two are from the same world, and Sesshomaru clearly wants Kagome for more than a quick fuck. He stuffs his hands back in his pockets.

"What would be so bad about that?"

Oh, he could sock himself. Why did he say that?

Kagome wrinkles her nose. "Because we're looking for a way back home. That would complicate things."

"The cursed one is becoming a liability."

"He's not a liability," Kagome sighs. "He's probably just horny." She stops and crosses her arms. "Do you need me to put up a barrier so you can handle yourself?"

"I don't need to jerk off," he says, slightly scandalized by how blasé she is being about this. "What happened to the blushing Kagome from last night?"

She blinks. "I'm trying to make you feel comfortable. You seem to be struggling with everything."

Sesshomaru snorts. "Priestess, stop engaging."

"No, we can be adults about this. This is no different from when you get all red-eyed and angry."

Sesshomaru presses his lips together. "That is because you went into heat."

"Ovulation," Kagome corrects. "Wait, how come you're never affected any other time? Everyone has a different cycle."

Sesshomaru's jaw ticks again. "We are wasting time." His fur wraps around Kagome and tugs her forward.

"But I mean, why is it my ovulation that bothers you?"

"Cursed one, you will have to fondle your cock later. This Sesshomaru is over this retrieval errand."

Satoru coughs. Something about the way Sesshomaru says cock has the blood rushing south. Satoru keeps his focus on the path in front. He refuses to look at Sesshomaru. Damnit. Sesshomaru can smell him.

Satoru blows out a breath and then settles for whistling a tune. Anything to keep his mind off Sesshomaru and Kagome. "Hey, just curious. Would a dog whistle work on you?"

Sesshomaru stops and then holds out a hand. The green mist hits infinity. Satoru smiles as he walks around it. The grass sizzles and left is a small crater. "You tried to melt me?"

"AWWW," Kagome coos. "Does this mean you and Satoru are friends now?"

Sesshomaru's mouth twitches. "Surviving the poison is not a rite of passage."

"I think he likes you," Kagome whispers. She winks and Satoru's body warms. "That's pretty neat, so do you just keep a barrier up at all times?"

"No?" Barrier? Doesn't she mean like a veil? "It's a family secret."

"Boo." Kagome shrugs the fur off and stretches her arms above her head. "Do you think it would have been faster to bring Argol and Ebeelx? They know this area better than us."

"No. We are slow moving because you two keep stopping to paw at one another."

"I resent that." Kagome huffs. "We aren't pawing at one another. You make it sound like I'm just stopping to cup his balls or something. We're just talking. There's nothing wrong with getting to know your allies."

Cup his balls?

Kagome grimaces. "Sorry, Satoru. I spend a lot of time with demons these days. I wasn't trying to objectify you."

"Please do," he quips. Satoru mentally kicks his own ass. "Do you sense that?" He walks in front of them.

"Sense what?"

He makes a show of looking around and then shrugs. "Thought I sensed something," he lies. If they could move on from his faux pas, that would be great.

"Of all the humans to be stuck with, why did it have to be an idiot?" Sesshomaru asks. "Cursed one, we shall run." Sesshomaru lifts Kagome over his shoulder that does not have the spiked armor, with Kagome looking at Satoru. She rolls her eyes, but doesn't seem that put out by the manhandling. "Keep up."

That's all he gets before Sesshomaru flashes out of sight. Son of a bitch. Satoru breaks off into a run after them. They run until they come to a cliff. Sesshomaru sets Kagome down and looks over the ledge. Satoru hums as he looks at the activity below. They said there were no other settlements here.

Oh. Centaur women, but no centaur men.

"What is that?" he murmurs to himself.

"An ogre?" Kagome lies on the grass. He should look away. Be a gentleman. "Shouldn't you two get down so you don't draw attention to yourselves?"

"We are going to take back the females and young. What does it matter if they see us or not?" Sesshomaru flicks his hair back, slightly more exaggerated than the other times he has done so.

"Yeah. Yeah. I haven't forgotten about tonight." Kagome stands and dusts her pants off. "Okay, maybe I should do the talking? We don't want to just charge in there and assume. Just because that guy got banished doesn't mean he's at fault here."

Sesshomaru exhales. "Are you trying to get kidnapped?"

"No!"

"Because that is how you always end up getting kidnapped. Cursed one, keep the priestess here. This Sesshomaru will go down and demand answers."

"First off, Satoru can't keep me anywhere."

His brows rise at that remark. Not that he was planning on keeping Kagome put, but now that she said it, he's feeling miffed. Does she think he's weak?

"Second, Satoru is the one feeling all discombobulated here. One minute he's overwhelmed, the next he's too horny to function, and—"

"Hold on." Satoru motions with his hands. "I am functioning just fine." Granted, he is hornier than usual, but that's because Kagome did something to him, he's sure of it. "They can't touch me. We go down there, and Kagome sticks close to me. Better?"

"The priestess is more likely to attract more attention." Sesshomaru glances back at the settlement. "Those aren't meant to last."

"What isn't meant to last?"

"Their lounging. The setup is sloppy. Easy to set up and tear down." Sesshomaru points. "There are more tents over there than there are structures. They must be leading the females to that building. It is heavily guarded, and more care was put into the construction. Speak priestess."

"I'm sorry, it's just you're speaking so much these days."

Sesshomaru slants his eyes at her.

"And you said you didn't like Satoru. He's having such a positive influence on you."

"Silence before this Sesshomaru takes you over his knee."

Satoru squeezes the back of his neck. "You sure you two aren't together?"

"Nah, I told you. Sesshomaru barely tolerates me."

"That's not... okay."

"Maybe I should get kidnapped," Kagome says suddenly. "If everything goes to shit, then we don't want the women and children to get hurt. Even if they bind me, I can still put up a barrier around us."

Satoru frowns. "You think they'd just take you?"

Kagome looks down at her shirt and then ties it, so her cleavage is showing, and her mid drift is bare. Satoru pounds his chest with his fist and coughs. How often does she get kidnapped for her to be so nonchalant about this? Kagome fluffs her hair and then pinches her cheeks, giving them a rosy hue.

"You got my back?"

"This plan is foolish." Sesshomaru crosses his arms over his chest. "

"If they lay one hand on you, this Sesshomaru will rip out their intestines and hang them from the trees."

Satoru clucks his tongue. He's low-key jealous he didn't think of something that creative.

Kagome smiles and hugs Sesshomaru. "That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

Yeah, Kagome has some screws loose. Too bad she isn't from his world. She would be a great sorcerer with that attitude.

"Flare your energy and I'll warp to you if need be."

Kagome glances back. "You aren't going to grope me if I hug you, right?"

"Why would I do that?" He drags his hand down his face and sighs. "I'm not a pervert."

"Mhmm." She pulls away from Sesshomaru and hugs Satoru.

"You're so tiny."

Kagome glares and zaps him. "Yeah, yeah." When she pulls away, Satoru clenches his fist.

The hell was that? Can she do that again?

He catches Sesshomaru's gaze and bites his tongue.

Wait. Why are they going along with Kagome's insane plan? By the time Satoru comes to his senses, Kagome is already down the hill and heading straight for the settlement.

"So, we're just gonna let her go?"

"There is no stopping the priestess lest you bind her and even then, she is as lithe as a fox."

"Have you bound her?" Satoru readjusts the yellow straps, needing something to do with his hands.

Sesshomaru says nothing for a moment. The wind blows, bringing the scent of iron with it. "The only reason your head is still attached to your shoulders is because the priestess is fond of you."

"Keep threatening me like that and I might think you want me too," Satoru says.

Sesshomaru turns and heads down the hill.

Huh. That wasn't a no.

***

A/N: I'm like 98% sure there is going to be smut in the next chapter. Pretty sure Sesshomaru would have killed Argol if he had joined them on this mission/quest.

I told my husband I was going to order us some more shower curtains and he said he didn't care so long as I don't order ones with a naked Gojo on them. Now I'm wondering if such a thing even exists.

Take care! Stay safe. Drink plenty of water and make sure to get plenty of rest.