#She doesn't belong in the ink well world

[askmoondropxbunny]

SO Horror play is "Granny horror game" will be played by the scared bunny MewMew~ Can't wait for the horror!!! BHAHAHA!!

I love this~!

-Noelle🐄🤍🖤

[greenandsorrow]

I'm really curious about how you think Alastor would handle a deaf sinner (revenge plot gone horribly wrong). The reader is staying at the hotel.. actually, it'll probably be challenging for everyone! Reader (f/gn) can read lips fairly well, but when Alastor does the whole "face made for radio," shtick his mouth doesn't move.. can't be threatened if you dont know what's said. It looks weird, though! Reader uses a phone to communicate mostly due to convenience, doesn't use signs because deafness comes as a bonus with death, also carries a pen but rarely paper so ends up writing notes on arms. Habits that linger from life are low self esteem covered masterfully with sass and sarcasm, humming and singing to themselves, remembering perfect pitches and how they felt to sing, can also match pitch by matching a vibration and drumming or tapping hands when needing to focus or is anxious.

Platonic relationships all round, not looking for romance here, just a place to belong for a bit, familial/sibling ribbing and sass!

I'm sorry in advance if it is a lot, but you do ask for details!

"This face was made for radio."

The Hazbins with a deaf!sinner!reader

You'll never forget the day you landed in Pentagram City. The world around you on mute... It will always stay carved in your memory... the way you had screamed until your throat ached and then had come to the conclusion that even though your voice worked fine, your ability to hear hadn't come with you to the afterlife.

Your sass did save you on multiple occasions that your lack of hearing left you with double the insecurity you carried from your days on Earth. The good news is that, eventually, you learnt to read lips and use your phone to communicate, making your afterlife a bit safer and easier.

However, some -Charlie- would say that your biggest achievement is willingly asking for residence at the "Happy Hotel"! It was a welcoming change to the constant battle of survival, that the streets of the City of the Damned are.

You have your own room and belongings. You have access to food and even made... friends. With your little notepad and pen, you scribble your thoughts and answers when interacting with them. In all honesty, you like your new neighbours more than you ever thought you would.

And the feeling is mutual amongst y'all.

You enjoy how Charlie is always putting on a show and how she sings more than she talks. Not only that, but she makes sure to let you know how impressive it is that you can match the rhythm of her songs, by tapping your fingernails on your notepad.

Vaggie makes an effort so you're always safe and that was before you even got close. She's a bit overprotective in your opinion, but then again... kindness in Hell is scarce and more than appreciated.

Seriously though, you're not handicapped, but it's no use explaining it to her.

Even the famous Angel Dust speaks slower when addressing you. Just like Vaggie, he's protective of you. It's rare for Angel to try to not make a fellow sinner uncomfortable.

In a way, the spider demon has adopted you and Niffty, concerning himself with your wellbeing. You want something but don't have your pen on you? He's willing to play pantomime just to make sure he can provide it to you.

And then there's Husk. The bartender is surprisingly gentle when it comes to you. Caution mixed with fondness. He doesn't mind that you speak too loudly in the rare occasions you use your voice. He doesn't mind having to wait for you to write down your jokes. He actually enjoys your company more than he lets on.

Just a detail, you became part of the crew around the same time Sir Pentious did. Consequently, in the beginning you two kind of stuck together, both seen as newbies.

You're so grateful for how he still washes your arms from the ink of your trusty pen.

To put it into a few words, all families are colorful and yours is no exception. Dysfunctions, disagreements and some sappiness are all part of your every day life. But the Hazbin Hotel has become your home and that's all that matters.

✧

Noticed how I overlooked a very special sinner??

Yep. That's right. Alastor.

The radio demon didn't pay you much attention when you first moved in. You have come to the conclusion that your lack of hearing just underwhelmed him.

He's the radio demon. Sound is his weapon and you're immune to it.

Obviously, his animated personality didn't go unnoticed to your observant eyes. Still, the old radio effect of his voice, the static he produces and all those flamboyant aspects of him are thrown out of the window when it comes to you.

He can't intimidate you. Not that he's tried. Not yet.

You have kept to yourself and maybe even subconsciously avoided him during your settlement in the hotel. It's not out of fear. But what fun is a fellow sinner that speaks more than he moves his mouth? Thank Lucifer he's expressive, otherwise he'd be muter to you than you're to yourself.

And that permanent grin doesn't help either. You've discreetly been relying on his shadow's expressions to make out what's going on in his antlered head.

✧

Today is no different.

He's just stranding there. Black cane, an ignorant and simultaneously arrogant aura, the same infuriating smile and Pentious's egg-bois around him.

Meanwhile, you're sitting in the lounge, inspecting a very 2000's looking camera. It's a way to kill time, watching your surroundings through the lens. At some point the camera lands on Alastor's figure.

It immediately starts glitching.

You burrow your eyebrows in confusion. When you look again, Alastor isn't where he was a few seconds ago.

You sigh.

"What do you think you're doing there, dear?"

Silence. No reaction. You keep looking through the camera at the place Alastor occupied just a few moments ago.

Alastor narrows his eyes. He's standing almost next to you.

But of course you didn't hear him.

The intensified static in his voice... wasted.

He clears his throat loudly, but to no avail.

Eventually, he gives in and taps your shoulder. You blink, lowering the camera to your lap and looking up at him, head slightly tilted.

Taking in your expression, Alastor secretly enjoys the animated scrunch of your brows, a clear indication of confusion.

He's not saying anything, so you shrug to yourself and absentmindedly focus the camera on him once more.

Alastor's eyes narrow with a sadistic glee as the camera suddenly breaks, fume coming out of it, the lens now cracked. You drop it, a bit startled but not on the degree he was hoping.

You don't bother standing up but you do glare at him in exasperation.

"Well, well... Aren't you a brave one?"

Finally! Something you can make out coming from his razor sharp jaws.

You pop the lid off your pen, but before you have time to write "What's that supposed to mean?" on your arm, he has already dimmed the lights and leaned down so he's at eye level with you.

"Let me tell you something while we're at it."

His neck bends unnaturally and his eyes turn black. It's not exactly a sight to enjoy, but it doesn't matter since you're too focused on trying to read his lips.

"This face was made f......"

For?

For what?

What could it have been made for?

His mouth stopped pronouncing the words before the sentence was finished, so it's not your fault that you're chuckling now.

Alastor's chest literally deflates at your reaction.

His ears droop.

It wasn't even full on laughter but his pride took a big hit.

While he's frozen in shock at your lack of fear, you finally scribble down at the back of your hand "Was made for what?"

You extend your hand for him to read with an apologetic gaze. He does look kind of wounded.

Alastor takes in your words and accepts that you didn't laugh at him on purpose. Not to humiliate him at least.

Placing a gloved finger under your chin, he makes you look at his face before speaking slowly, moving his lips almost comically.

"This face was made for ra- di- o."

You let out an "oh" of realization.

Your eyes have a new light of interest in them as you write down your answer.

"I used to listen to that, when I was alive."

"Mhm, that's a pleasant piece of information, my dear!"

✧

From that day on, every time before he broadcasts, he makes sure to give you his notes to read, even making them more elaborate just for you.

For him, the only downside of your loss of hearing is not being able to enjoy his radio show.

At least you now get along.

Tips are highly appreciated! (PayPal)

Shout-out to @buggieluv79 for helping me with the deaf POV 💌 I also want to point out the fact that the wonderful being that made this request is both kind and patient, having waited three months for me to write this and supporting me in the process❣️

Hazbin Hotel masterlist ❤️

I'm open to writing for a deaf!reader again, whether you want it to be the same person we met in this fic or a different one. (Wait till reqs open again please!)

[thefriendlyferretwriter]

Weasel

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!F!Reader

Summary: A back and forth with the infamous Fred Weasley sends the two nemeses into a back-and-forth that lands them in detention, where both their frustration and anger send them into a deep argument full of insults, tension, and revelations.

Warning: LONG, 8k words, lots of scene cuts becuz a LOT happens, rivals to lovers (not really, Fred's obsessed with reader and is a little shit), boy pulls on the pigtails of the girl he claims he dislike type trope, was forced to give reader at least a last name, same for her best friend ( went with one of the most generic name Tiffany), Fred being a little shit, argument, tension, reader is unhinged

A/N: Fun fact about this fic it almost included a Pygmy Puff before I checked and discovered that they were created by the twins for their shop and since they are still students I had to go and swap it up with a baby puffskein. No idea how to describe that fic, there will definitely be multiple parts, enjoy!

There are no other places like Hogwarts.

The scenery, the castle's secrets, and the yearly competition between houses are something to behold.

But what might be icing on the cake is the library. The place where I can lose track of time all the while learning about the magical world.

The library has a hush rule but you can't help the coughs, the few ink pots falling to the ground, or even the giggles here and there but it doesn't bother me one bit, it even helps me focus as I enjoy yet one more day in the castle.

"Hi there Raven."

And there goes my enjoyment.

With a roll of my eye, I direct them toward the annoying voice belonging to none other than Fred Weasley who stands there with his satchel on his side leaning against one of the book-filled shelves.

"Weasel," I acknowledge him with a sigh looking back down at my page.

"Weasley," he corrects drily.

I brush him off as I finish my inked sentence and wait for it to dry before turning the page and asking him what he's doing here.

He leans on the table by his hip and crosses his arms inclining his head towards me, "What is it to you?"

"You being here is a bad omen so either you're here to sell your stupid stuff to the first years," I say glancing at his sachel for a second before looking back down at my work, "Or it involves annoying me and I'm having a good day to waste it dealing with you today."

I don't look at him and instead focus on my next sentence when I hear some shuffling and a piece of rolled-up parchment drops next to me that I recognize all too well.

"You must be kidding me," I groan snatching the parchment from the table.

"Unfortunately no. McGonagall benched me and said that if I wanted to stay on the quidditch team I needed a tutor."

His speech makes me groan as the lines reiterate his rant in a distinguished manner and is signed at the bottom by Professor Flitwick.

"McGonagall sent me to Flitwick who recommended you. Said you needed tutoring on your record."

I let go of the paper and join my hands together placing my thumbs on the base of my nose to try and diminish the incoming headache.

"Soo," he draws out attracting my gaze, "See you later, I'll be waiting for your owl."

I see him walking backward, all cocky as he dares to wink at me before turning around and descending the spiral stairs.

I audibly scoff and slam my notebook closed.

Yet another day ruined by that damn Weasel.

"He's a pest."

"You're exaggerating again," she laughs at me standing up from her seat.

"No, I'm not!" I say shoving the last book in my bag as class just ended, "He's obnoxious and annoying and a nuisance to my peace," I stand up and follow right after her.

It's been a few days since my unfortunate meeting with the least likable Weasley in the library and the meeting with Professor Flitwick and McGonagall this early morning couldn't have gotten any worse since no amount of pleading on my part could get them not to assign me with him. As a supplement I had the redhead walk in on me pleading which had him reveling at my misery digging me into a deeper foul mood.

"He's a funny guy that sometimes goes too far," she says pushing a chair that wasn't tucked under its assigned table.

"He's the bane of my existence," I say full of venom.

She laughs walking toward the classroom's exit," That's romantic."

"No, saying someone is the bane of your existence isn't romantic."

"I'm sure you could turn it into something romantic, like a poem or a book about forbidden love," she daydream walking through the door.

"You read too many romance books," I say stepping outside the classroom when I freeze and feel like I'm going underwater as my body is iced out for a moment.

It feels as if I've been hit with glacius but I'm able to use my voice and squeal in shock as the feeling subsides and I'm brought back from my shock by two giggles.

I see two first-year Gryffindors laughing nervously before they simultaneously decide to run away, one of them letting loose on her wand that was levitating the bucket letting it fall on the ground with a loud clash.

I'm left in the middle of the open hallway surrounded by classmates who just exited their class.

The wind hits me and I feel my body shiver before I look up at my friend whose mouth is covered by her hands in surprise.

I hear it.

The annoying infuriating sound of distant laughter, one I cannot mistake for another.

My eyes zero on him sitting on the transfiguration courtyard's tree clutching his stomach as he laughs balancing himself on the branch.

"You were saying?" I ask her rhetorically still dripping in the pink-colored jelly-like liquid.

She lowers her hands and approaches me slowly trying to wipe my face.

I feel the bubbling of rage making its way up my throat with my breathing taking up seeing him seated up there on the branch looking like a king sitting upon the throne of his buffoonery surrounded by his brainless friends, or rather, George's brainless friends and it makes me snap.

I push her hand away and stomp my way through the hallway onto the courtyard's grass toward him.

"Weasley!" I yell as I march to him.

"Oh, now she remembers my name," he laughs out loud for his twin and his friends to hear as the number of students stopping by increases.

He slides off the branch with ease and starts strutting to me with this damn cocky smile.

George stands up from his leaning stance on the tree, "Fred," he says.

I don't know if it's a warning or a scolding but his intent doesn't matter to me.

My hearing is replaced with the beats of my heart drumming in my ears as my face feels as hot as lava.

My steps get bigger and bigger and the closer his infuriating smirk approaches, the rage escapes me as my hand swings back and closes into a fist before landing in his face mid-step.

The audible hit is met with a groan and while I'm far too small to send him to the ground with a punch it does send him swaying back and hunching over.

In a second George jogs to his twin and hands him support grabbing his elbow as Fred's groan turns into another one of his annoying chuckles.

"You see how she hit me?!" he shouts looking delighted by the situation before he lays his gaze back on me with a bit of blood on his teeth.

His smirk falls and I believe for a moment that I finally did it, I finally managed to instate fear in this jackass before I realize his gaze moved from my frame to someone behind me.

The buzzing in my ears ceases and my hearing comes back to me as the grass crunches under one's weight indicating someone approaching.

A cold sweat travels through my body when I turn around and spot none other than Professor Hooch standing tall in front of us.

By instinct, I take a step back and bump into Fred before jumping aside as if he burnt me which isn't far off as my knuckles are calling out for help burning and tingling from the impact it had on his cheek.

She sends us both one of her infamous hawk looks that could petrify Dumbledor himself, "I presume that display of violence can be explained by your appearance?" her pointed look is directed at me.

I try to wipe the substance off my hair with an annoyed huff.

Her eyes travel to Fred whose head is pointed down grabbing his chin and messing with his mouth moving his jaw from side to side.

"That rewards the both of you with an hour's detention," that answer makes him groan and I point at him with outrage.

"But he-!" My disbelief doesn't reach her before she cuts me off.

"You're both dismissed. Mr.Weasley, I advise you to escort your brother to the infirmary to tend to his injury. As for you, I advise you to go clean yourself up before heading to the infirmary as well, perhaps at a time Mr.Weasley won't be there," she finishes her sentence looking at George who acknowledges her insinuation with a nod.

Still clutching his jaw, Fred is led away by his elbow by George as Hooch walks to stand in front of me, "While I understand your frustration I did expect better from you than violence."

My eyes widen and the breath I take in is cut off, "He-"

"This isn't about Mr.Weasley's childish behavior, he will receive his punishment either way. What disappoints me is that you could've avoided any punishment by reporting this to me or any other professor in the area but instead, you will ecope of an hour's detention as well."

She says shaking her head as she walks away leaving me standing here in the courtyard covered in the substance and an aching fist that doesn't even feel satisfying knowing it didn't teach the jerk anything.

"Why is it so windy today?! I thought it was supposed to be sunny!" I complain trying to be louder than the wind.

"No it's supposed to switch all day, look," my friend says motioning to the daily prophet in her hands bringing the paper closer to my face so I can see the weather section indeed announcing an insufferable change of weather all day.

"You can still spot the puddles from the rain earlier," Luna Lovegood points to the Quidditch pitch where the grass is still two shades darker and the random puddles of water stir with strength from the wind blowing.

My venting is interrupted by a loud collision that sends me twisting around back to the pitch to see Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teammates fighting over the quaffle like rabid dogs in what is supposed to be an amicable match as a form of training.

"Remind me again what's the point of an amicable match if there is no amicability?" I ask turning to face them just to miss the apparent goal from a Gryffindor through one of the Ravenclaw's lowest hoops.

I groan when I recognize the face of the person who managed to pass our defenses as he basks in the small victory.

"What is it raven?! Can't take in the sigh of greatness?!" he gloats seated comfortably on his broom with his red hair all tussled.

His pretentiousness blinds him and his arrogance leaves him to ignore the whistle suggesting the match continues and leaves a fellow Ravenclaw to score in a flash right behind him. The only indicator that anything happened at all is the small thunder of applause and shouts of approval coming from the small gathering of students who decided to kill time and participate in the amicable match to cheer each team on.

His head whips around and the sight of the opposite team scoring sends him tilting his head back with a groan that he tries to conceal but it doesn't escape anyone's notice.

The karma is enough but it is so rare to catch the weasel in one of his life life-learning moments that I don't hesitate before deciding that I need to add my little grain of salt to the wound.

I have it, I have the perfect response to give him right on the tip of my tongue and I wonder for a second if the smirk grazing my lips isn't a giveaway but my witty taunt is stopped when a broom enters my line of vision.

"See?! I told you your presence would do me good. Look at that, bullseye!"

I'm sure he means no harm, I know him to be humble but the poor lad either didn't see Weasley or simply decided to ignore his presence.

The fact that he is being ignored after being wrecked is sickly satisfying and my smirk manages to widen somehow.

It is clear he simply didn't see Fred as this one's scowl sends him silently flying away in an awkward, one-sided staredown that ends with him glancing at me with an uncomfortable wide-eyed stare, silently asking for help.

I stare at him flying further and further away and only look back when I notice George approaching his twin on his broom.

His frustration is clear and the eye roll along with his head thrown back pleases me a great deal.

The devilish idea is too good and it doesn't take a lot of self-convincing before I fall for temptation.

"What is it Weasel, too busy drowning in your own ego you can't pay attention?!" I shout so my sickly honeyed voice reaches him and George as I tuck my now pastel pink hair behind my ears.

'The concoction should last less than a week. This Flemont Potter was a genius!' nurse Pomfrey said.

The scowl adorning his face fills me with warmth and electricity buzzes through my veins knowing I have the last word for once.

"Nice hair," he tries himself at a desperate dig that does not work as Professor Hooch whistles for him to fly back to the match.

Turning his back to me, he flies back to the center of the field I can't help but laugh realizing that it's the first time he turns his back to me without walking away with the last word.

The whistle is blown and the speed at which each team goes at the other's throat could cause whiplash if one wasn't used to it.

I'm focused on a group of players when my peripheral vision drags my eyes to my friend throwing the quaffle with all his strength leaving another small group of three players to speed away.

Taking a moment to take in his throw he looks back down and waves at me with a smile, satisfied with his play.

I wave back with a grin of my own before he disappears out of my sight as a bludger hits him straight in the back of the head with a resounding thunk throwing him off his broom and crashing to the ground.

I hear a loud yell and realize it comes from me as my body instinctively reacts and bolts toward the pitch.

Professor Hooch is already by his side by the time I run to his limp self.

"Is he okay?!" I get caught off guard by my friend reaching him and kneeling at his side before I do.

I stand there looking down at him in shock as people start surrounding the area trying to take a look at the wounded on the ground when I notice the Gryffindor team lowering themselves on the ground including the culprit.

His quidditch robe swings with each one of his steps as he walks towards the commotion very slowly like in a trance.

"You too bring a stretcher," she says shooing away both a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw player.

I hear George Weasley calling after his brother who has now reached Professor Hooch kneeling on the ground

"Is he okay?"

How dare he. His filthy meek voice asking about his well-being as if he isn't the reason my friend is lying unresponsive on the ground.

That familiar boiling sensation in my chest rises again and I feel my fists clenching by themselves.

Before I can comprehend my thought process I am bolting toward him. Still, before I can reach him George jumps in front of him getting ready for whatever, a whatever that does not come as I am held up by the waist by two Gryffindor players sensing the hostility.

"What is wrong with you!" I holler up in the air struggling with all my might against the hold of the chasers which is useless against the player's strength.

The rest is a blur, George pushes the douche towards the locker room as I follow the stretcher closely to the infirmary.

"If you stare any harder you're gonna be the first third year student here to achieve wandless magic," she chuckles "It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. back down at her textbook.

"False," I utter not leaving the weasel out of my burning stare.

I notice her raising her head from my side view in wonder.

"Granger," I state chewing on my thumb's fingernail.

The sight of him simply sitting there without any consequences under the excuse of 'it's part of the game, nobody can prove there were any malicious intents behind that strike' drives me mad and haunts my head with multiple scenarios of murder that keep replaying again and again.

"You have to let it go. Pomfresh said he'll be fine."

"He didn't deserve that strike it was targeted to piss me off because I got the last word," I say wincing when I realize I bit my thumb a bit too hard and drew some blood.

"It's part of Quidditch, many, many people took strikes to the head."

"Bullshit. A strike to the head during an amicable match? Come on," I roll my eyes frustrated that everybody seems so eager to just brush this incident off.

"I'm gonna start thinking you're checking him out and not actually glaring at him."

"Have you lost your mind?!" I say louder than intended, my head whipping left to glare at her this time.

There is no silence as the Care for the Magical Creature class takes place outside and the lack of chatter is covered up by the sound of wind rustling the nearest tree's leaves and the distant purrs and grumbles of the different creatures in their pen.

"Is there a problem?"

Unlike McGonagall or Snape, Professor Hagrid's tone of voice isn't accusatory but genuinely one of concern. This concern eats at me as the idea that he might believe even for a moment that my words are targeted towards him makes bile rise in my throat.

"No!" is my immediate response to reassure the professor but the rest of my explanation seems to be stuck in my throat as I have a hard time imagining myself explaining to the class that I was just defending myself at the mention of me hypothetically checking Weasley out.

That same person here in the open classroom with a side smirk plastered on his annoying face trying his best not to laugh at me, not because it would be rude but because not laughing at the right time alongside the rest of the class wouldn't be as satisfying as a full-on public humiliation.

I see Hagrid lowering his chalk and I can already foresight him asking what he might have done wrong which is not something you want to ask as a teacher in front of a bunch of ruthless teenagers.

His other hand joins in on the other starting to mess with his chalk making him appear anxious and way less mighty.

The awkwardness doesn't begin to measure to the remorse of having put him in this situation because of my impulsive nature.

"It's my fault!" my friend shouts in my defense.

Looking at her, Tiffany managed to snatch up a baby puffskein and hold it up to Hagrid's sight.

"I put him in her hair and she was afraid he would do a pooh."

The laughs are inevitable but I'm certain the 'do a pooh' will haunt my nightmare.

The mocking is a harmony of taunting and I can only look beside me to glare at her sitting there with the puffskein in hand as I wish he would just 'do a pooh' in her hands this instant.

At least Professor Hagrid seems reassured, smiles as the misunderstanding is cleared up, and turns back around to continue the lesson.

We're sent to different enclosures containing different creatures and are instructed to feed them to create a bond.

"Look at him acting casual as if he didn't send someone to the infirmary with a trauma to the head," I say full of venom seeing him being buddy-buddy with another Gryffindor girl as they try to feed Mooncalf in the open and have a laugh as they are surrounded by the eager herd starving for pets and seeds.

"Will you quit it and enjoy one of the only course that's relaxing here," she scolds kneeling closer to the ground to feed a diricawl who nibs at her finger affectionately before walking past her hand and pitter-pattering to her to lay his head on her chest to receive pats on his head.

"Plus you've already been told we can't know if the blow was on purpose."

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it, he's one of the best beaters here," I say with a pointed look at her throwing a violent handful of seeds towards the rest of the diricawls.

"Did I just hear you compliment Fred Weasley?" she says looking up at me with a teasing smile.

"It's not a compliment I'm just stating a fact, the probability of Weasley hitting someone right on the head by accident at such distance is close to none," I say throwing another handful as my eyes catch a paddock with dubogs in it, one in particular who is devouring the weasel with his bulgy eyes.

There are three dubogs in the small paddock and two of them are cooling off in the dirty pond uninterested in anything else but sunbathing with only their eyes above the murky water blinking one at a time as the third one is eating up Weasley with his eyes.

A devilish idea makes its way into my head. The opening I get is served to me on a gold platter as Tiffany is distracted by the herd of diricawl overtaking her landing her on the ground, surrounded.

My chance is heightened by Weasley's back turned to me talking with his little girlfriend.

I take my chance disregarding any rational thought invading my head. Sneakily climbing over the fence, I crouch and walk toward the desired enclosure. The creature doesn't seem to sense me approaching and if he does he doesn't seem to care one bit licking his eye and pawing the ground with his hind leg.

A part of me wishes I could egg him on and ask him if he wants to nibble on the Weasel's ankles but I'd rather not throw my plan out of the window. Instead, I carefully slide my arm to the latch and pull on it slowly to make sure not to make any noise before giving the door a small push to create the crack that seems to be enough to throw the creature out for a jog as he crashes against the paddock's door.

I don't get to see the seconds before the disaster as I have to hurry back and jump over the fence once again, running back to my friend and free her from the diricawl's clutches giving her a hand and raising her back up as the show starts.

The screams that grace my ears aren't from fear but more from shock as the tall redhead lands on the ground when I finally get to lay my eyes on him. The dubog licks him from bottom to top with the creature's natural dirt and slimey skin rubbing off on him as his Gryffindor girlfriend screeches for help calling for Professor Hagrid who runs up to help in a flash.

The man's height isn't only impressive and intimidating but also a great advantage to grab the massive creature off and drag it back to its enclosure where the other two are still sunk in the water, sunbathing and behaving.

Once shut close, Professor Hagrid grips the wooden bars of the enclosure to gather himself before turning around and helping Weasley up with just one hand gripping the back of his blouse. While he seems shaken up by the encounter, he tries to rub off some of the mud on his face but only manages to smear it looking around at the rest of us.

The reactions vary, some are as shocked as he is and others shrug off their worries and are now laughing at his appearance now that they've established that he is healthy and no longer in danger.

I myself giggle knowing that while I can't get him punished for his action back on the pitch, I get to watch him look like a fool and even up the score. My friend does not agree and lets me know by elbowing me in the ribs making me groan mixing laughter and painful grunts.

Laughter that is spotted by the redhead when his head whips to me before his eyes light up.

His eyes shift from eureka to burning hatred. Shrugging off the hand of his friend trying to tidy him up and storms in my direction.

"It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. The confrontation is cut short when Hagrid once again showcases his immeasurable strength by yanking the weasel back with a tug on his now mostly white blouse and throwing him behind his eleven-foot frame that stands now right in front of me.

"Enough with the both of you!" his voice booms in the open area.

He takes a step back and I can get a peak at the redhead enough to see him huffing and puffing from being thrown around like a doll.

"This is a classroom, not a pub. Now the both of you will walk all the way up to Professor McGonagall's office and explain exactly why I had to send the both of you to her and she will be the one to give you your punishment!"

I look at him now, hair disheveled and his tie undone covered in dirt and mud and slime. He still looks somewhat decent as he pushes his hair back with a huff.

I must look just as messy with my pink hair having been thrown on the ground and I decide to tug at the end of my own blouse trying to tidy myself up and avoid any more wrinkles on it.

"Miss Granger, please accompany those two, you know what to do if they misbehave."

"She tried to kill me!" Fred yells pointing at me.

"Do you have any proof, Mr.Weasley?"

He seems to hesitate for less than a second before motioning to me with his hand in frustration.

"It's logical thinking, she hates my gut and she's crazy!"

"You jerk-!" I bellow throwing myself in his direction before I'm engulfed in the Professor's arms.

"Enough!" He yells once more letting me go only when I stop fidgeting in his hold.

"There is no way of proving the Miss did anything. This paddock's lock has been faulty for a while and after this incident, I will personally see that it is dealt with."

He says as if he was addressing the whole class who is still standing all around us watching the event unfold.

"As for the both of you, you will do as you're told and let Miss.Granger accompany the both of you back to the castle and receive the punishment the both of you deserve for the waste of both my time and your classmates' time."

The tone is harsh and the decision is final.

"I am very disappointed in the both of you. You're worth so much more than this petty rivalry," the man shakes his head walking away.

Those words seem to have the same result on both of us. We look down a bit ashamed before we are ushered away by Hermione as we start the long and silent journey back to the castle.

We both stand in silence, side by side with yet a respectable distance as the two professors stand in front of us with judgmental stares that don't need any words to transcribe their distaste…or is it disappointment?

We were sent to our respective bathrooms to clean up 'as best as you can' while my request to wash off completely was denied by both teachers and so here I stand with the back of my blouse tainted by dirt as Weasley could barely wash the slimy texture out of his own blouse and barely dry it with what I believe might have been a spell.

And so here he stands looking dirtier than me despite the order to clean up.

"Now that the awful stench has been managed I believe a proper punishment is in order," McGonagall says with her hands joined in front of her.

"I agree, my cauldrons are in dire need of a scrub," Snape says with his usual disinterested tone.

Weasley starts protesting and claims that I should receive a harsher punishment for my so-called actions.

"She tried to kill me!" he protests.

"And as I told you Mr.Weasley there is no way for us to possibly prove this claim as Professor Hagrid did not see any of this unravel."

"Just like no one saw you throw that bulger." I bite under my breath.

"Exactly Miss.Hermlock. And I would suggest you speak with your full chest if you have any objection." Mc.Gonagall drily berates me.

"Snape-Professor Snape," he quickly corrects himself, "said multiple times that in such cases veritaserum should be used, and since she's SO confident saying she didn't do anything she won't mind doing this, won't she," he says towering over my side.

"I've always known you were a moron but I never thought you would outdo yourself in front of teachers," I smirk crossing my arms.

"Mr.Weasley, even with Miss.Hermlock's permission, the usage of such beverage on a student is forbidden. I would've hoped that with a father working for the ministry, you out of all of us would remember that."

My smirk doubles in size which I thought would never be possible.

In the end, my smirk is wiped away when we are both awarded two hours of detention with Snape. And as if it wasn't enough the punishment is cleaning the endless potion class's cauldrons.

We're ordered to go clean up, thoroughly this time and go for lunch before being expected in the dungeons for our detention hours.

We arrive at the same time just as the last student exits the class, we are left standing side by side, or more precisely 3 feet away from each other as we walk in right in front of Snape's office where he is seated with his head down to his paper purposely stalling and letting us stand there in awkward silence.

What must've been minutes feel like hours as I try my best not to side-eye the redhead standing silently beside me.

I wonder if I should've refrained from opening that damn pen when I hear those continuous scraping of pen meant to insult us as the dark-haired teacher ignore our presence.

He finally puts his feather back in its inkwell before he stands resting both his hands on his desk, "I believe I don't have to remind you what you need to do during those two hours of detention."

Neither of us answers and that seems to egg him on to stand straight and walk around his desk to stand right in front of us, his hands placed behind him.

"You two will clean every single cauldron here, I made sure none of my classes cleaned their equipment to make sure the lesson will stick and you won't have to keep me company again on such a fine day," he says bending to my height and looking straight into my eyes for just a moment before moving his sight onto Weasley, "At least one of you will learn."

Standing back up his speech is interrupted by strong stomps getting closer.

Turning around, the three of us look towards the class's entrance as we spot for a single second a figure sliding across the entrance and disappearing with a loud thud that sounds painful.

It is the first time I make eye contact with the weasel since the last time we butted heads and it is to share a sour scrunched-up expression for the victim of the fall who we hear grunting in the hallway before the sound of their footsteps echoes once more and we see the face of the one who rushed here most likely to speak to Snape.

He's bent over leaning on the door out of breath.

"Berkshire, if you're done fooling around you may grace us with an explanation as to why you're disturbing this detention."

Still out of breath, Enzo Berkshire huffs and puffs for a few more seconds before settling down still bent over.

"It's Nott," he exhales deeply before breathing in once more, "He and Wood started a brawl between quidditch teams, Hooch told me to come get you."

Turning back to the teacher, his eye roll is noticeable and his silence is an obvious assessment of the situation as he probably is planning what to do now that he is torn between us two and the alleged brawl.

"Alright, As the head teacher of house Slytherin, I will accompany Berkshire and assist Professor Hooch in this conflict."

He points to us, "As for the two of you. You will stay here and complete your detention without any complaints. If you leave before your time is up, I will know and that will reward you an entire week of detention."

Pointing at Berkshire, Snape walks past us and orders him to lead them away and with a flick of his wand makes it known that it is thanks to that maneuver that he'll know of us potentially leaving the classroom.

"Behave." is all he says before walking right behind a speeding Enzo Berkshire.

I wonder if he was referring to the both of us or maybe just Weasley.

I don't get to ponder on that before my thoughts are drawn elsewhere at the realization that my worst nightmare is unfolding before me, I am now stuck with the most insufferable student here for two hours doing the most aggravating task besides cleaning the house bathrooms.

I only get back to reality when I hear him throw his robe and satchel on a nearby station.

Being left alone with him, the task at hand, and the absence of Snape to muzzle the redhead angers me as I frop my own bag and stomp to one of the sinks filled to the brim with dirty cauldrons.

I don't even get to enjoy a full minute of tense peace as the douchebag starts his usual yapping.

"Can't say I'm surprised he would leave me alone with you, Snape has always hated me and it's no wonder he left me with you considering you tried to kill me," he mouths off as always lifting a cauldron from its stove and piling it on top of another one.

"And yet you're still breathing, what a shame." I roll my eyes as well as my sleeves picking up a scraper.

A moment of silence passes and I pray this is the moment he realizes he needs to shut up so we can endure the rest of this detention in mild peace but alas this is a good idea and everyone knows that Frederick Weasley never had one of those in his life.

"Damn. The sorting hat must've made a mistake, maybe you belong with the other psychopaths in Slytherin." He throws both cauldrons beside the filled sink with a loud clang.

"I'm sorry but I'm not the one cladding the scales." I bite back.

"Oh, she has claws," he draws out loudly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask genuinely turning around to face him.

"No, the question is what is wrong with you," He asks back louder.

"Nothing is wrong with me! You're the one who can't figure out when to stop, you're the one who always goes too far and you're the one who went too far once again, so much so that you ended up sending my friend to the infirmary!" I hurl and see him losing that fire that usually overtakes his pupils showing he enjoys egging on people once they are set off.

"It's the risk when you play Quidditch," he tries and fails to sound firm in his statement making me scoff.

"For Rowena's sake, you're still acting as if you didn't purposely throw that bulger at him!" I say running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"I didn't!" he says even less believable.

Done with his excuses I turn back around to give all my attention back to the dirty cauldrons when he manages to slide between me and the sink making me take a huge step back.

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

I stare at him, no, I glare at him feeling the urge to punch him again but I remember that it didn't do anything for me the last time and instead opt to let out my frustration by hollering at him and walking away before I make the mistake of punching him and have a Professor magically appear out of nowhere to give me more detention again.

Even when I think I finally win and have him admit to his wrongs he still finds a way to make excuses for himself.

"What were you expecting?! I'm a beater that's what we do!"

Does he really think I don't know what a bloody beater is?!

Is he trying to make me pass off as an emotional wreck because of my appropriate reaction to such injury during a supposed amicable match?!

Any beater whether amateur or professional could agree that either maliciously or not that throw was unwarranted during training.

"There really is something wrong with you," I walk right in front of him, toe to toe, and spite my statement right in his face pushing him aside to gain back access to the sink.

I start scrubbing as my mind throws all the different reasons I despise the fucker. Irresponsible, unfunny, no compassion.

I'm so lost in my spiteful analysis of him that I don't register that my thoughts aren't my own anymore as I unconsciously start rambling out loud.

"An idiot who doesn't even think before taking people down with him," I grumble scrubbing away.

"Come on now it's not like he's dead," He nips throwing down yet another pile of small cauldrons beside me.

"I'm talking about me!" I yell letting go of my current task and letting the pot fall and clang with another one causing a ruckus in the sink.

"Not only is my friend in the infirmary because of you but I'm also stuck with you trying to teach someone who I learned has never been slacking in muggle history before recently."

His jaw slacks open and his eyes double in size like the breakfast sausages I had this morning.

"Wait a minute. You think I'm doing this on purpose?!"

You do everything on purpose! Your dad works for the ministry, he is a Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office employee dammit! If anyone is an expert at muggle stuff it's your dad!" I say as a matter of fact.

"And tell me exactly what would it bring me to purposely be bad at this subject all of a sudden?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe to annoy me more often than usual." it sounds like a question but I know I'm just clarifying the situation.

"You think I'm gonna waste my days stuck with you in the library acting dumb for fun?" he tries to ask sarcastically.

"And why not? Beside the library part isn't that what you do all day anyways?"

The quick wit seems like it struck him as he scoffs with a broad smile.

"If you want to be a failure for the rest of your life go ahead and be my guest but I'll ask you not to take me down with you."

That same disbelief smile disappears and leaves place for a blank look that doesn't often grace his face.

"Unlike what you think, success doesn't necessarily come from academic prowesses." he tries to bite.

"Obviously not when it comes to you." I mock before turning back around feeling satisfied for getting him not once but twice in a row.

The triumphant silence doesn't last long before he dwells in a monologue that I don't bother listening to. Instead, I tune him out and start scrubbing which helps to cover the annoying sound of his voice.

His speech feels like hours long but is probably just a few minutes tangent as by the time my ears recognize his next sentence I'm only done with the first cauldron.

"-With such a nasty attitude it's no wonder Murphy didn't show up to your date."

The cauldron clashes with another as I let it fall back into the abnormally huge sink before turning my head toward the nuisance of my life.

"How do you know about that?" the voice that comes out of my mouth is one I don't recognize.

He pauses and seems to hesitate.

"Heard Katie talk about it to her friend."

"I never said anything about it to Katie, 'matter of fact I never said anything about this date to anyone ever so there's no way you heard this through gossip."

"He told me." he tries again even less believable than the first time.

"Bullshit." I seeth.

It's bluff, while I believe I might know Murphy it's not to say that he isn't just like any other guy and simply good at hiding his real intentions.

He starts ranting about some story I can tell is made up on the spot and it's like the wheels stopped turning and the lightbulb lights up in my head with such intensity that the next words come out of my mouth in a loud realization that echoes his own.

"You did this, It was you!" I accuse him with a rageful glare.

He steps back and rolls his eyes tilting his head back, "Oh my-you know what?! Yeah, I did. I warned the guy and I did well because he deserved better than to be stuck on a date with a stuck-up cunt like you." he finishes his tirade by sticking his index finger in my enraged face.

"You're fucking evil." I spit it like it's a statement everyone agrees upon watching him turn his back to me walking farther away.

My outburst is so intense that I have to take a shaky breath and keep my tears at bay as my better judgment is thrown out the window and I decide to finally pour all my frustration out.

"You know, you always take some sick pleasure in telling me I'm cold-hearted," the beginning of my speech is shakey but I quickly regain strength in my voice to let out all my poison,"But you can't even own up to your own fucking flaws and the fact that you're nothing but a jackass who use your so-called 'pranks' to harass everyone in school because they know better to be friends with an asshole like you who's only friend is his twin because no one else wants to be around you!"

My rant is over and the only noise filling the space is my heavy breathing. Catching my breath I feel hot and can barely focus on anything other than my heart beating in my ears as I feel my boiling blood travel all through my body as I stare dead into the eyes of the one who brought me to such an extent of anger.

When my heart settles and I can finally hear my breathing slow down I can focus solely on him and realize that his stare is dead.

He's not glaring, he's just looking. All trace of anger is gone and he's left staring at me or rather through me with dead eyes.

I seem to have struck a nerve and for once the guy doesn't have a comeback. Instead, I'm rewarded with the shoulder shove of a six-foot-something figure who passes me to walk to the sink and starts scrubbing away…

What the heck?

The feeling of regret invades me for a moment but is quickly replaced by one of annoyance.

Why should I feel regret? It's not like he ever feels regret for the horrible things he does. He never apologizes to anyone no matter how far he crosses the line.

The regret quickly fades and I instead let the small spot of confidence inside me grow. It's the first time I've ever shut the mouth of the biggest jerk there is, why shouldn't I enjoy it as long as it lasts?

After everything, I'm entitled to this. I'm entitled to twist the knife.

I take a first careful step and then a second, more confident one closer to him and the sink.

"Yeah, I might be a cold-hearted bitch. But you're an arrogant jackass who's not even funny." I say more calmly yet still petty.

"Oh piss off!" he shouts throwing the cauldron back into the sink with a smash that I wonder might have actually shattered or maybe chipped one of them.

I jump aside to avoid another shoulder shove and follow him with my eyesight to spot him grabbing his stuff and realize he is trying to escape this detention to avoid my lash-out.

Figuring out his plan I catch up and run past him to stand in front of the door blocking his way out.

"No! No, You called me what you called me and now I get to call you whatever I want!"

I wonder for a moment why he doesn't push past me, for sure his frame can easily overpower mine but instead of crashing into me to walk out of the potion class he instead turns around and throws both robe and satchel on a station with a shout that almost rivals mine.

"Alright then let's go ahead, get it all out of your system sweetheart." He snarls standing in the middle of the class, his arms expanded before he places them on his hips.

"You!" the bitter tone escapes me in a rough huff as I point at him, "Have done nothing but make my life hell since the day I arrived." I start walking towards him, "And for what? I have NEVER given you any reason to hate me and yet I have been the target of so many of your pranks that I started being known as the damn Weasley's guinea pig!" I throw my finger in his direction before it falls back on my sides as I walk slowly but with conviction towards him.

"There we go!" he says faking being proud probably to egg me on in my rant with a sick smirk bending down to my eye level and crossing his arms probably to toy with me and undermine me as he always does.

"You do nothing at school but be a nuisance and waste everyone's time including mine and it's so sick to think that you can't even let others be successful just because you can't achieve anything on your own, it's pathetic!" I'm getting closer, almost toe to toe with the redhead who doesn't take a step back and stays planted where he stands or rather is bent over.

"Come on let it all out," he snarls.

"But somehow I was still stupid enough to think that this time you would have the decency to at least admit you went too far and apologize for hurting my friend but even then you cannot take responsibility as always," I finish my tirade taking my final step right in front of him as our noses brush.

"Anything else?!" he angrily spits in my face with a scowl.

I breathe in harshly wishing I could punch him or clap back like I did before but realize if my rant hasn't aroused all kinds of empathy it is useless to keep calling him names it won't male a difference.

"Yeah, your attempt to make me look ugly by turning my hair pink completely failed because I still look good unlike you," I say sourly throwing a glance at his mop of hair.

He sneers.

His arms that were crossed in front of him manage to travel up and brush strands of hair behind my ears before his fingers slide down and twirl the locks in his hands toying with them.

When I'm done bathing in the hatred coating his eyes I notice I'm not the only one panting when I feel his breath brush my face.

Why is he panting? I'm the one who just rambled angrily for five minutes.

"Got it all out?" he says calmer this time around.

I look at him and my eyes make the mistake of switching between his eyes and lips just a second to see his doing just the same and analyze my face.

We haven't moved from our spot and I don't know why.

"Yeah, I think so," he whispers his lips brushing over mine with each syllable.

He stands back up, his hands leaving my hair and falling back to his side as he brushes past me leaving me to stand there frozen trying to comprehend the goosebumps littering my body and my hands shaking by my hips.

I manage to turn around and see him grabbing his stuff and making his way to the class entrance once more.

I find my voice, less confident than before but still strong enough to try and stop him.

"What are you doing detention isn't over yet!" I begrudgingly state.

"Then I guess I'll get a week's worth of detention!" he announces walking out with one hand clutching his satchel and the other one throwing his robe over his shoulder.

He's gone, and in the newly found silence, I breathe out through my nose and assess what just happened.

Weasley just mocked me, pissed me off and egged me on, undermined me, and left me in a classroom filled to the brim with cauldrons to clean all by myself after toying with my anger, my hair, and…

My hand bolts into fists and my nails sink into my palms as I conclude what I already know.

I hate him.

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 21

word count: 8.8k

sorry for the wait, hope you guys enjoy!

The next day, though Harry had to be cooped up at the shop once more, he made sure to bring Aspen along. The girl sat perched by the front desk, swaying in her chair as Niall and Zayn kept her company while her boyfriend worked on another large last minute walk-in piece.

Aspen hadn't minded tagging along to the shop today. In fact, she liked being around Harry's world, seeing the environment he was so comfortable in. It was different from her own, rougher around the edges, but it fascinated her. The steady hum of the tattoo machines, the scent of antiseptic and ink in the air—it was all so uniquely him.

She sat at the front desk, her legs crossed at the ankle as she absentmindedly flipped through one of the shop's design books. Every now and then, her eyes drifted toward Harry's station where he was focused on a client, sleeves pushed up, forearms tense with concentration. He looked good when he worked, brows drawn together, tongue occasionally swiping across his bottom lip in focus. She felt warmth rise in her cheeks just watching him.

Zayn and Niall were keeping her company in the meantime, the two of them going back and forth in their usual banter, making Aspen giggle behind her hand.

"You know, I think I'd look real good with a full sleeve," Niall mused, stretching his arm out in front of him and squinting as if he were already picturing it.

Zayn snorted, shaking his head. "You're too indecisive. You'd get halfway through and regret it."

Aspen giggled as Niall shot Zayn an exaggerated glare. "Oi! I could pull it off." He turned to Aspen for backup. "Don't you think I'd look good with a sleeve?"

Aspen tilted her head, feigning deep thought before giving a shy little shrug. "I think it would suit you... maybe."

Zayn barked out a laugh, pointing at Niall. "Even Aspen doesn't sound convinced."

Niall groaned, slumping back dramatically in his seat, which only made Aspen giggle more. The conversation carried on lightheartedly, small jokes exchanged between them as she grew more comfortable with their dynamic.

"Okay, fine," Niall huffed. "No sleeve. But what about, like, a single bold piece? Something cool and mysterious. Maybe a dagger? A wolf? A dragon?"

Zayn raised a brow. "You sound like every dude who walks in here asking for their 'first ink' and then chickens out when the needle actually touches their skin."

Aspen covered her mouth as she laughed, her shoulders shaking. "Do people really do that?"

"More often than you'd think," Zayn smirked, leaning against the counter. "You should see some of the excuses we get. 'Oh, I forgot I had a meeting.' 'Oh, my girlfriend doesn't like tattoos.' 'Oh, I think I left my oven on at home.'"

Aspen giggled harder, imagining the scene unfolding.

Niall pointed at Zayn accusingly. "Listen, I may be many things, but a coward is not one of them. If I commit, I commit."

Zayn gave him a skeptical look. "That so?"

"Absolutely."

Aspen, still smiling, tapped a finger against the open design book in front of her. "Well... if you had to pick one right now, what would it be?"

Niall leaned over, scanning the page, before pointing to a classic anchor design. "That. Timeless. Rugged. Manly."

Zayn snorted. "Basic."

"Oh, come on!" Niall groaned. "I thought we were past judging people for classic ink choices!"

Aspen bit her lip to keep from laughing too hard, enjoying the easy back-and-forth between them. She liked this—being included, feeling like she belonged in their little world.

Her eyes flickered over to Harry again, watching the way he moved, the way he gently tilted his client's arm to get a better angle, the way he was so deeply focused. It still amazed her, how skilled he was, how much he cared about his craft. He made everything seem effortless.

She didn't even realize she was staring until Niall leaned closer and whispered, "You're drooling."

Aspen's face burned as she snapped her gaze back to him. "I—I am not!"

Niall grinned, nudging her arm. "S'fine, love, we get it. Your boyfriend's hot."

Zayn smirked, adding, "At least you're subtle about it."

Aspen groaned, burying her face in her hands as they both chuckled at her expense.

"Fine, fine," she muttered, shaking her head with a shy smile. "Let's change the subject."

"Aw, but this was getting good," Niall teased, but he relented when she shot him a playful glare.

Aspen took a sip from her water bottle, settling herself again before her curiosity got the better of her.

Aspen absentmindedly traced patterns along the condensation of her water bottle, the soft hum of tattoo machines filling the shop as she let the words roll off her tongue without much thought. "So... where were you guys the other day?"

She wasn't asking with suspicion—just curiosity. It was normal for them all to be busy, especially Harry and Zayn, but with both of them disappearing on the same day, she had assumed they had been working at the shop together.

Zayn, who had been scrolling on his phone, stilled almost imperceptibly. It was brief, barely noticeable, before he smoothly resumed, tapping his thumb against the screen in thought.

Niall, however, was as easygoing as ever, giving a nonchalant shrug. "Dunno. They weren't at the shop, I—"

Before he could finish, Zayn subtly nudged him under the counter, just enough to make Niall pause. The interruption was swift, casual, and Aspen didn't catch on to its meaning.

Niall, never one to be easily flustered, let out an easy chuckle. "Oh, wait, nah. I got my days mixed up," he corrected smoothly, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Yeah, they were definitely here. You know how it is—busy day, tons of walk-ins. I wasn't here much, though. Just popped in for a bit."

Aspen nodded, easily accepting the answer. It made sense. Niall was always in and out, never one to stay planted in one place unless he had a reason to.

Zayn leaned back against the counter, arms crossed as he picked up the explanation. "Yeah, long ass day. Harry and I had some big pieces to do, so we were stuck here forever. Back-to-back appointments. Barely had time to eat, let alone breathe." His voice was smooth, perfectly composed, and it wasn't unusual for him and Harry to take on big projects.

Aspen didn't even think to question it further. In fact, she felt a little guilty for asking—if they'd had such a long day, she didn't want to seem like she was prying.

She stole a glance at Harry across the room. He was still deep in his work, head tilted in concentration, jaw set as he dragged the tattoo machine carefully over his client's skin. He looked so at home in his element.

She smiled softly to herself, brushing away any lingering thoughts. Harry had never given her a reason to doubt him, and besides, if something was wrong, he would tell her.

"Well, as long as you weren't getting into trouble," she teased lightly, taking a sip of her water.

Niall grinned, dramatically clutching his chest. "Me? Trouble? Never."

Zayn smirked, taking a slow sip of his drink, the picture of amusement but offering no further comment.

Aspen giggled at their antics, letting the conversation drift into something else, not noticing the fleeting glance Zayn and Niall exchanged. If she had, maybe she would've realized there was more to the story than they were letting on.

Aspen leaned forward slightly in her chair, resting her elbow on the desk as she idly twirled the cap of her water bottle between her fingers. The conversation had shifted naturally, moving from their usual banter to something a little more personal.

"So, what's the plan for you two, then?" Niall grinned, wiggling his brows between her and Zayn. "Aspen, you finally got yourself a big, brooding tattoo artist. What's next?"

Aspen blushed, the warmth creeping up her neck. She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "I don't know... we're just taking things as they come."

"Boring answer," Niall teased, leaning back in his chair. "Come on, give me something. Future plans? Marriage? White picket fence? Maybe some tattooed babies running around?"

Aspen nearly choked on her water, her face burning even hotter. "Niall!" she squeaked, eyes wide.

Zayn barked out a laugh, slapping a hand against the counter. "Too soon, man," he smirked. "Let 'em breathe."

"I'm just saying! You two are disgustingly cute." Niall stretched his arms behind his head. "If Harry wasn't already obsessed with you, I'd be worried."

Aspen tried to play off her embarrassment, but she couldn't stop the way her lips curled into a soft smile. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of her bottle again, and when she stole another glance across the room, she caught Harry's gaze.

He was already looking at her.

It was brief, just a flicker of his eyes before he turned his attention back to his work, but it was enough to send a pleasant warmth blooming in Aspen's chest.

Niall was still talking, something about how he was destined to be the world's best godfather whenever Harry and Aspen decided to have kids (which, in Aspen's opinion, was way too early to even think about), but she was only half-listening.

Because every time she glanced toward Harry, she caught him doing the same.

And every time their eyes met, it sent little flutters through her stomach.

"So what about you guys?" she asked, eager to shift the conversation away from herself. "What's your plan for the future?"

Zayn shrugged, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Haven't thought about it much. Business is good. I don't see myself doing anything else anytime soon."

"Fair," Aspen nodded. "And you, Niall?"

"Oh, I'm gonna be rich," Niall declared, pointing at himself with full confidence. "But like, stupid rich. Don't ask me how yet. Maybe I'll invent something. Or marry into money. Either way, I'll be set."

Aspen laughed, shaking her head. "Solid plan."

"Exactly," Niall grinned. "And speaking of plans... Aspen, be real with me—are you gonna stay with this guy forever, or what?"

Aspen opened her mouth to respond, but she didn't have an answer.

Forever?

Her gaze flickered back toward Harry. She wasn't even sure if he was listening to their conversation, but she knew that if she was being honest with herself... the idea of forever with him didn't seem so scary.

She just smiled, a little shy, a little uncertain.

"We'll see," she murmured.

And from across the room, Harry glanced up once more—just in time to catch her looking at him again.

Aspen shifted in her seat, her fingers absentmindedly twisting the cap of her water bottle as she debated whether or not to ask the question sitting at the tip of her tongue. She wasn't usually the type to pry, but curiosity had a way of gnawing at her when it came to Harry—especially when it came to the parts of his life he didn't bring up often.

"Can I ask you guys something?" she finally murmured, glancing between Niall and Zayn.

Zayn quirked a brow, while Niall leaned in like she was about to spill the most interesting gossip he'd ever heard. "Course you can, sweetheart," Niall grinned. "What's on your mind?"

She hesitated for a moment before voicing what she'd been wondering. "Has Harry ever talked about... past relationships? Like, has he ever been in love before?"

Niall and Zayn exchanged a look, one Aspen couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't amusement, nor was it discomfort—it was something in between, like they were deciding how much they should say.

"Depends on what you mean by 'in love,'" Zayn finally said, tapping his fingers against the counter. "If you're asking if he's had girlfriends before, then yeah, he's had a few. If you're asking if he's ever been in love? That's a different question entirely."

Aspen frowned slightly. "So... has he?"

Zayn sighed, tilting his head as he considered his answer. "I don't think so," he admitted. "Not the way you mean. Harry's had flings, some more serious than others, but he's never been the type to settle down. Not because he couldn't, just... he never found anyone he wanted to."

Aspen processed that quietly, her fingers still tracing idle patterns on her bottle. It wasn't a bad answer. If anything, it only made her feel more special—like she was different.

Still, she wasn't quite done with her questions.

"What about the way he talks about me?" she asked softly, suddenly feeling a little shy about the inquiry. "Does he... ever bring me up?"

Niall let out an exaggerated groan, throwing his head back. "God, Aspen, you have no idea," he whined. "The man does not shut up about you."

Aspen's eyes widened. "He does?"

"Constantly," Zayn smirked. "It's almost embarrassing, really. We could be talking about literally anything, and he'll find a way to bring you into the conversation. 'Aspen would love this.' 'Aspen was reading this book the other day.' 'Aspen said the funniest thing.' It's ridiculous."

Aspen's face heated instantly, her heart swelling at the revelation. She'd known Harry cared about her—he wasn't shy in the way he showed his affection—but hearing that he talked about her so often when she wasn't around made her feel warm in a way she couldn't quite describe.

"Yeah," Niall added, grinning. "And don't even get me started on the way he talks about you when he's drunk."

Aspen's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, he gets all sappy," Niall said, waving a hand. "Like, real soft. Talks about how much he likes you, how you make him feel different than anyone else ever has. It's kinda sweet, actually, if you ignore the fact that he sounds like a lovesick idiot."

Aspen's heart did a little flip in her chest. "He really says that?"

"Every damn time," Zayn confirmed, shaking his head. "And if you ask me, that's saying a lot. Harry doesn't open up easily. But with you? I think he's completely gone."

Aspen chewed on her bottom lip, trying to suppress the giddy smile threatening to take over her face. She'd known Harry felt something strong for her, but hearing it from his friends, from the people who knew him best, made it feel even more real.

After a moment, she gathered her thoughts enough to ask her next question. "Has he ever told you guys why he never got serious with anyone before?"

Niall and Zayn exchanged another glance before Zayn answered. "He's never given us a straightforward reason," he admitted. "But I think it has to do with trust. Harry's not the kind of guy who lets people in easily. He's seen too many people turn their backs when things got hard, so he stopped letting them get close in the first place."

Aspen frowned slightly, her heart aching at the thought. She knew Harry had his walls, knew he carried burdens he didn't always talk about. But the idea that he'd spent so much of his life keeping people at arm's length made her want to hold onto him even tighter.

"Well," she said softly, her fingers curling around the edge of the counter, "I hope he knows he doesn't have to worry about that with me."

Zayn studied her for a moment before nodding, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I think he does," he murmured. "And I think that's why you're different."

Aspen exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth spread through her chest. Maybe she was different. Maybe, despite everything, Harry had finally found someone he was willing to let in.

And maybe—just maybe—she was willing to let him in, too.

As Harry worked, the rhythmic hum of the tattoo machine filled the space around him, the buzz familiar and grounding. His hand was steady, movements precise as he filled in the last bit of shading on his client’s forearm. It was muscle memory by now, the way he worked—careful, methodical, ensuring every line was perfect. But despite how deep he was in his craft, his attention kept drifting elsewhere.

Aspen.

Every now and then, between dipping his needle into ink and wiping away excess, his gaze would flicker toward the front of the shop where she sat. She was perched on the chair, her legs tucked under her, absently twirling the cap of her water bottle between her fingers as she listened to whatever nonsense Niall and Zayn were spewing. She was smiling, her cheeks soft with warmth, and fuck—Harry swore he could feel that smile in his damn chest.

It was different, having her here. Not in a bad way—quite the opposite, really. It was grounding, a quiet reassurance that she was becoming a part of this life of his. A life he never thought he’d want to share so openly with someone.

His fingers tightened around the tattoo machine slightly. That thought—it was dangerous. Because there were parts of his life she couldn’t know. Not yet.

He swallowed, forcing his focus back on the piece he was working on. The secrecy—it wasn’t about not trusting her. He did. More than he cared to admit. But there were things in his world that were better left in the dark. Things that weren’t meant for someone like her—soft, kind, untouched by the shit he and Zayn were tangled up in.

Maybe one day, he’d tell her. But not now. Not when he could still shield her from it.

He exhaled, shaking off the heaviness pressing against his ribs, and refocused on finishing up.

Fifteen minutes later, he wiped down the tattoo one last time, nodding in satisfaction before wrapping it up. “Alright, man,” he said to his client, standing and stretching out his arms. “You’re all set. Just follow the aftercare instructions, and you’ll be golden.”

After handling payment and bidding the guy goodbye, Harry finally took a breath. His break had been long overdue.

As he walked over to the front of the shop, the scent of food hit him first. His brows lifted slightly in surprise as he spotted Aspen setting out plates in front of Niall and Zayn, her movements careful and deliberate as she made sure everyone had what they needed. His own plate was set aside for him, waiting.

His heart clenched at the sight.

She had cooked for them?

Something about that simple act of care made something deep in him ache.

Before he made his way over to grab his plate, he veered slightly, walking past Niall and—without hesitation—snagging a bite right off his plate.

“Oi!” Niall protested, pulling his plate away. “What the hell, mate? You've got your own!”

Harry chewed, smirking as he handed Niall back his fork. “I know,” he said easily with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “but if m'lady made it, I want it all.”

Aspen, who had just taken a seat, turned a deep shade of red at his words, her fingers curling in her lap as she ducked her head slightly.

Niall groaned, rolling his eyes as he snatched his plate back. “Christ, you two are disgusting.”

Harry grinned, but didn’t respond, instead making his way over to his own plate. Before sitting down, he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against Aspen’s cheek from behind.

She stilled for a second, then exhaled, shoulders loosening as a shy little smile played on her lips.

Harry took his seat next to her, grabbing his fork as he dug in. The second he took his first bite, he let out a hum of approval. “Fuck, baby. This is good.”

“She’s got skills,” Zayn agreed, shoveling another bite into his mouth. “Could open up a restaurant or some shit.”

Aspen’s cheeks were still pink as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s really not that big of a deal…”

“It is when all we usually eat is takeout,” Niall chimed in. “This is the best thing I’ve had all week.”

Harry chewed thoughtfully, tapping his fork against his plate before swallowing. “Dunno,” he mused, his lips curling into a slow, cheeky smirk. “I’ve had somethin’ better this week.”

Niall snorted. “Mate, there’s no way you’ve eaten anything better than this. We’ve all been living off gas station snacks and whatever the hell Zayn throws together when he remembers food exists.”

Harry simply leaned back in his chair, draping his arm over the back of Aspen’s. His smirk deepened as he tilted his head slightly toward her, voice dropping just enough to make her stomach twist. “Wasn’t talkin’ about the food.”

Aspen nearly choked on her bite of rice.

Her wide eyes snapped up to him, cheeks instantly burning as she realized exactly what he was implying. Her fingers curled against the napkin in her lap as she shot him a scandalized look, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.

Zayn, always one to catch on quickly, just chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. Niall, on the other hand, took an extra second before groaning in exaggerated disgust. “Christ, Harry. I did not need that mental image while I’m eating.”

Harry only grinned, winking at Aspen before casually picking his fork back up like he hadn’t just made her want to shrink into the floor.

Aspen, flustered beyond belief, pressed her lips together, glancing down at her plate as if it might save her from the warmth spreading all the way to her ears. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered, nudging his knee with hers beneath the table.

Harry let out a low chuckle, nudging her back. “But you like me anyway.”

She didn’t dignify that with an answer—mostly because it was true. And he damn well knew it.

Harry smirked, nudging Aspen lightly with his knee under the table. “Guess that means you’ll have to start cooking for us more often, yeah?”

Aspen rolled her eyes playfully but didn’t argue. Instead, she focused on eating her own food, her lips twitching slightly as the conversation between them carried on.

The energy was easy, lighthearted. They talked about everything and nothing—Niall complaining about a client who wouldn’t stop moving while getting tattooed, Zayn discussing the new pieces he and Harry had lined up, Aspen giggling at their banter.

As the laughter settled, the four of them fell into easy conversation, the clinking of utensils against plates filling the quiet lulls between their words. Harry sat comfortably next to Aspen, his arm draped lazily along the back of her chair, occasionally letting his fingers brush the ends of her hair. It was subtle—so subtle that if someone wasn’t looking, they wouldn’t notice—but Aspen felt every touch, every slight movement of his fingers, and it made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t used to.

Zayn was the first to steer the conversation into something deeper, leaning back in his chair as he chewed. “So, what’s the plan for the future?” He raised a brow, glancing between them. “Y’know, since we’re all clearly on different paths here. You lot got it all figured out?”

Niall snorted. “Figure out what? That I’ll probably be covered head to toe in ink before I turn thirty and still be eating this girl’s cooking?” He gestured to Aspen with his fork, grinning. “Because if that’s the future, I’m pretty happy with it.”

Aspen smiled, warmth spreading in her chest at the compliment. “You act like I’ll be cooking for you forever,” she teased.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, don’t do me like that. You’d miss me if I stopped showing up to steal your food.”

Harry rolled his eyes, smirking as he took a sip of his drink. “You’re like a stray cat. Feed you once, and you never leave.”

Zayn chuckled. “That explains why he practically lives at the shop.”

Niall threw up his hands in mock offense. “You lot love having me around, don’t even try to deny it.”

Aspen giggled, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the question Zayn had asked. “But, um, I don’t really know yet,” she admitted softly. “I mean, I have ideas. I love books, so maybe something with that… but it’s hard to say.”

Harry glanced at her, taking in the slight uncertainty in her voice. He could tell she thought about it—probably more than she let on—but she wasn’t one to be loud about her ambitions. She kept them tucked away, only revealing them in small doses, and for some reason, that made him want to hear them even more.

“What about you?” Aspen nudged Harry’s arm lightly.

He took a slow bite, chewing as he considered his answer. “Dunno,” he said finally. “Tattooin’ is what I love. Keeps me steady, keeps me busy. But…” He paused, swirling his fork against his plate. “I guess I wouldn’t mind somethin’ more down the road.”

“More?” Aspen tilted her head, intrigued.

Harry glanced at her, a small smirk playing at his lips. “What? You think I wanna be slingin’ ink forever?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “You’re really good at it.”

His chest swelled slightly at the compliment, but he only shrugged. “Yeah, but sometimes… I think about what it’d be like to settle down a bit.”

That made Aspen pause, her fork hovering mid-air. “Settle down?”

Harry’s smirk didn’t fade, but there was something softer in his eyes now. “Yeah,” he said simply. “Someday.”

Aspen lowered her gaze, heat crawling up her neck. The thought of Harry—this inked-up, reckless, sometimes smug but always caring man—talking about settling down was almost impossible to picture. But at the same time… it wasn’t.

“What about you?” Harry’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

She blinked up at him, then quickly shook her head. “I—I don’t know,” she murmured. “I never really thought about it.”

Harry hummed, studying her carefully before offering her a teasing grin. “Guess I’ll have to change that, then.”

Aspen’s heart stuttered in her chest, and before she could even process his words, Niall groaned dramatically.

“Christ, you two are disgustingly cute. Can we eat in peace without watchin’ you make heart eyes at each other?”

Zayn chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re just jealous.”

Niall scoffed. “Jealous my ass. I like my peace. Not my fault these two make it impossible.”

Zayn smirked as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Speaking of impossible,” he started, glancing over at Niall with a knowing glint in his eye. “Didn’t you go on that date the other week? The one with that girl you wouldn’t shut up about?”

Aspen perked up immediately, turning her attention to Niall, who suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. She had never heard anything about Niall dating, and now she was curious.

“Oh?” Aspen tilted her head, eyes bright with interest. “Who’s this mystery girl?”

Niall groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Why do you always have to bring shit up, man?” he grumbled at Zayn before exhaling dramatically. “It was just a date. Nothin’ serious.”

“That’s not what you were saying last week,” Zayn shot back smugly.

Aspen turned fully in her chair, leaning in closer with excitement. “Come on, tell me! I need details.”

Harry snorted beside her, clearly enjoying Niall’s misery as he took another bite of his food.

Niall gave them all an exasperated look before slumping back in his seat. “Her name’s Elena. Met her at a café—well, more like she bumped into me and spilled coffee all over my jeans.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “She was all flustered and apologetic, tryin’ to clean me up, and I was just standin’ there like an idiot. But we got talkin’, and I don’t know… she was easy to talk to.”

Aspen smiled at the way his voice softened slightly, like he hadn’t meant to sound so fond but couldn’t help it. “That sounds cute,” she mused. “So? How was the date?”

Niall shrugged. “It was good. Took her to dinner, talked a lot. She’s studying psychology, so she’s always analyzin’ people. Pretty sure she was psychoanalyzin’ me the whole time.”

Zayn chuckled. “That’s probably not hard.”

Niall shot him a look before continuing. “Anyway, she’s nice. Sweet. Smart as hell. But I dunno, she’s busy with school, and I’m always at the shop. We haven’t really talked much since.”

Aspen frowned slightly, sensing that there was more to it than just being busy. “Do you like her?”

Niall hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… yeah, I guess.”

Zayn scoffed. “You more than ‘guess.’ You texted her three days straight after the date.”

Aspen gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Oh my god, Niall!”

Niall groaned again, dropping his head against the table. “I hate you all.”

Harry, who had been relatively quiet, finally smirked and chimed in. “So, what’s stoppin’ you? If you like her, ask her out again.”

Niall lifted his head just enough to glare at him. “You make it sound so easy.”

Aspen tapped her fingers against the table thoughtfully before an idea struck her. “Wait! What if I helped?”

Niall narrowed his eyes. “Help how?”

“Well,” Aspen began, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “you said she’s in psychology, right? I actually have a class with her. We’re not super close or anything, but I could… I don’t know, maybe put in a good word for you?”

Zayn barked out a laugh. “Oh, this is gold.”

Niall groaned for what seemed like the hundredth time, dragging his hands down his face. “Jesus. This is humiliatin’.”

“It’s not humiliating!” Aspen argued. “Think of it as… giving you a little push in the right direction.”

Harry chuckled beside her, shaking his head. “That’s dangerous, mate. Aspen’s got a way of getting what she wants.”

Aspen elbowed him playfully but turned back to Niall with an encouraging smile. “I’ll be subtle, I promise. Just casual, ‘Oh, Niall’s such a great guy’ kind of stuff.”

Niall sighed dramatically. “If this backfires, I’m blamin’ you.”

Aspen grinned. “Deal.”

Zayn smirked. “This is the most entertaining lunch I’ve had in weeks.”

As they continued eating, the conversation naturally flowed into playful teasing and joking, but Aspen made a mental note to follow through on her promise. If there was a chance she could help Niall get the push he needed, she’d gladly take it.

Aspen, still burning from Harry’s words, buried her face in her hands. Harry only grinned wider, reaching over to steal another bite from Niall’s plate, completely unbothered.

As the conversation carried on, Aspen couldn’t help but steal glances at Harry—at the way he fit so easily into the dynamic, at the way he teased and laughed and looked at her like she was something he wanted to keep close.

And for a little while, Harry let himself sink into it.

No stress, no secrets.

Just this. Her.

He’d hold onto it for as long as he could.

Harry sat back in his chair, absently twirling his fork between his fingers as conversation carried on around him. The food was good—great, actually, because Aspen had made it—but if he was being honest, he wasn’t fully present. His mind kept slipping, getting caught up in memories that were much more intoxicating than anything else in the room.

He’d been doing his best to keep himself engaged, nodding along when Niall teased Zayn about something, adding in a comment here and there, but all it took was one glance at Aspen, one moment of catching the soft curve of her lips as she smiled, or the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and he was gone again.

His grip tightened slightly on his fork as his mind drifted back to that night in his office. He could still feel her, taste her, the phantom sensation of her lips and tongue making his stomach coil with heat. The way she had looked at him—wide-eyed, eager, completely wrapped up in him—had nearly ruined him. He’d had plenty of hookups before, but none of them stuck in his head like this, none of them made him crave more than just the physical. But Aspen? She was burned into his mind, into his fucking soul.

And the bathroom. Christ.

He swallowed hard, taking a sip of his drink to keep himself grounded, but it didn’t help much. He could still see the way she’d knelt for him, how shy she had been but how determined, how she’d hesitated but only for a moment before she found her rhythm. The contrast between her softness and the way she had wrecked him had his head spinning even now. He’d never been so completely fucking whipped for someone, never felt this all-consuming urge to take and give all at once. The way she’d looked up at him through her lashes, her fingers barely able to wrap around him, her lips stretched as far as they could go—it had been enough to make him lose all control.

He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself subtly as he forced himself to refocus. He had to get a grip. It wouldn’t do him any favors to sit there getting lost in his own head while they were all supposed to be enjoying a meal. He glanced over at Aspen, catching the way she was laughing at something Niall said, completely unaware of the way she had him tied in knots.

She had no idea what she did to him.

Harry exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair before speaking up, his voice deliberately casual. “Hey, babe,” he said, shifting his attention to Aspen. “Think you could help me move a few things around in my office?”

Aspen blinked, surprised by the sudden request. “Oh,” she said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, of course.”

Harry smirked, pleased with her easy agreement. Truthfully, there wasn’t much that needed moving, but with Niall and Zayn getting caught up with clients, he had a perfect excuse to steal her away for a few moments. He needed a break, and more than that, he wanted to be alone with her—just her.

“Tryin’ to get her alone, are we?” Niall teased, wiggling his brows as he stood from the table to grab his supplies.

Zayn chuckled, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Smooth, mate.”

Harry rolled his eyes, standing as well before placing a firm hand at Aspen’s lower back, guiding her toward the hall leading to his office. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, though the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

Aspen followed quietly, her heart picking up its pace just from the warmth of his palm against her. There was something about the way he touched her—casual yet possessive, like he was always reminding her that she was his. She tried not to overthink it, but the way her stomach fluttered made it impossible.

The moment they stepped into his office, Harry shut the door behind them, leaning against it for a second as he took her in. She looked soft under the dim lighting, her features gentle but curious, and for a split second, he forgot why he even made up the excuse in the first place.

“So… what are we moving?” Aspen asked, glancing around the office.

Harry tilted his head slightly, dragging his lip ring between his teeth as he considered her. Then, with a slow grin, he shrugged. “Dunno,” he admitted. “Might’ve just wanted to get you alone.”

Aspen’s cheeks flushed instantly. “Harry,” she scolded, but there was no real bite to it.

“What?” He smirked, stepping closer, his hands finding her hips with ease. “Can’t a man want some time with his girl?”

Aspen’s breath hitched, her hands instinctively pressing against his chest to create the smallest bit of distance, but Harry only squeezed her hips gently, pulling her in just enough to make her heart race.

“You—” She swallowed, trying to compose herself. “You could’ve just said that instead of pretending you needed help moving things.”

Harry hummed, dipping his head to brush his nose against hers. “Mm. Could’ve,” he mused. “But this way was more fun.”

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her resolve slipping just from the heat of his proximity. He had this effect on her—one look, one touch, and she was undone.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” she murmured.

Harry grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek before pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. “Good,” he said simply. “Because you do the same to me.”

Aspen barely had a second to process his words before Harry closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. His hands moved from her hips to her waist, fingers pressing firmly against the fabric of her top as he pulled her even closer. She melted into him instantly, her own hands slipping up to cup his face, thumbs grazing along his jawline as she sighed softly against his lips.

It started slow, sweet, like they had all the time in the world to explore each other. Harry kissed her with an intensity that sent warmth spilling through her veins, his lips moving over hers with a tenderness that contradicted the way his fingers flexed against her waist. It had been a long day, a long week, and this was what they needed—just the two of them, no distractions, no rushed moments stolen between the chaos of their lives.

But as much as Harry wanted to savor this, his self-control started slipping the second Aspen let out the softest whimper against his mouth. His grip tightened, his lips parting to deepen the kiss, tongue swiping against hers in a way that had her knees weakening beneath her. Aspen clung to him, her fingers curling into the collar of his shirt as she let herself drown in him.

Harry groaned softly, one hand leaving her waist to tangle in her hair, angling her head just how he wanted as he took his time tasting her. The soft scent of her perfume, the warmth of her body pressed against his—it was overwhelming in the best way. He could stay like this forever, but then Aspen pressed just a bit closer, her body molding against his like she was meant to be there, and Harry nearly lost it.

His lips moved from hers, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, down to the soft skin of her neck. Aspen gasped, tilting her head to give him more access as his teeth scraped lightly against her pulse point. He smiled against her skin when he felt her shiver, his other hand gripping her waist even tighter.

“Harry,” she whispered, voice breathy, and it sent a shudder down his spine.

It took everything in him to pull back, his forehead resting against hers as he caught his breath. His chest rose and fell heavily, his grip on her tightening before he forced himself to let go completely.

Aspen blinked up at him, lips swollen and eyes dazed. “Why’d you stop?” she asked softly, her voice laced with curiosity and the faintest hint of disappointment.

Harry chuckled, his hands finding her hips once more as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “Because, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to the corner of her mouth, “if I keep going, I’m gonna start something I can’t finish.”

Aspen’s face turned a deep shade of red at his words, and she quickly dropped her gaze. “Oh,” she squeaked out in a breath, suddenly very interested in the buttons on his shirt.

Harry grinned, loving the way she got all shy on him. “Cute,” he mused, nudging her chin up with his fingers so she’d look at him again. “C’mon, little mouse. Have a seat.”

Aspen obeyed, settling onto the small sofa against the wall, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she tried to recover from the heat still lingering in her veins.

Harry grabbed his sketchbook from the desk before sitting beside her, his arm draped along the back of the couch as he flipped to a fresh page. “I needed a break anyway,” he murmured, tapping his pencil against the paper.

Aspen peeked at him, still feeling a little breathless. “What are you gonna draw?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.

Harry smirked, eyes flicking to hers before looking back at the blank page. “Dunno yet,” he admitted. “Maybe you.”

Aspen’s heart skipped at that, but she only tilted her head slightly, a confused smile pulling at her lips. “What do you mean?” she asked softly.

Harry stilled for a moment, debating whether he should keep it to himself or let her in on the little secret he had been holding onto for months. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips as he exhaled, deciding that maybe it was time.

Instead of answering right away, he flipped through his sketchbook, fingers dragging over the edges of the pages as he searched for something specific. Aspen watched curiously, her brows knitting together when she noticed how careful he was being, almost hesitant.

And then he turned the book toward her.

Aspen blinked. Her lips parted slightly as her gaze landed on the first drawing—a sketch of her, sitting beneath a tree, completely lost in her book. The details were so precise, so tenderly drawn, she could almost feel the sunlight filtering through the leaves above her, just like it had been that day during their camping trip.

Her throat tightened. “Is this…?”

“The first time I sketched you,” Harry finished for her, voice softer than usual. “Back at the campsite.”

Aspen reached out, her fingers barely grazing the page as she stared at it, taking in every detail. “You… you drew this back then?” Her voice was breathy, almost disbelieving.

Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. You just… I dunno, you looked so peaceful sitting there. I couldn’t help it.”

Aspen’s chest ached in the best way possible. She turned the page, revealing another sketch of her—this one of her standing by Zayn’s car, arms crossed, deep in thought. And then another of her sitting at the tattoo shop, nose buried in a book, oblivious to everything around her. There were so many.

Page after page, she found herself staring at different versions of herself through Harry’s eyes. Some were quick, rough sketches, as if he had drawn them in a hurry before the image slipped from his mind. Others were detailed, shaded with such care that they looked almost lifelike.

She swallowed thickly, emotions swelling in her chest as she reached another drawing—one that looked fresher, the graphite still bold and untouched by time. It was her, curled up on the couch, wearing the oversized hoodie she had stolen from Harry the other night.

“I drew that one a couple nights ago,” Harry admitted, watching her reaction closely. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Aspen’s fingers trembled slightly as she turned to face him. “You never told me,” she whispered.

Harry held her gaze, his usual cocky demeanor slipping into something more vulnerable. “Didn’t think I needed to,” he murmured. “You’re just… always on my mind, I guess.”

Aspen’s heart stuttered in her chest. The weight of his words settled deep in her bones, making it hard to breathe for a moment. She didn’t know what to say, so instead, she reached out and laced her fingers through his, squeezing his hand in silent understanding.

Harry let out a breath and flipped to the back of the sketchbook. “That’s not the only thing I’ve been working on,” he admitted, flipping past a few blank pages before stopping at something else entirely.

Aspen frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as she realized it wasn’t another sketch—it was handwriting. Lyrics.

She tilted her head, reading the words on the page.

"Sweet creature, had another talk about where it’s going wrong… but we’re still young, we don’t know where we’re going, but we know where we belong…”

Aspen’s breath hitched. She looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Harry… this is—”

Harry cut her off with a nervous chuckle, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, I’ve been dabbling with the guitar,” he admitted. “Words just kinda… flow sometimes.”

Aspen traced the title with her fingertips, her heart swelling at the sight of it. Sweet Creature.

“It’s about me, isn’t it?” she asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Harry smirked, but there was a softness behind it. “Who else would it be about?”

Aspen bit her lip, a deep warmth spreading through her chest. She wanted to ask him to play it for her, but something about the way he was looking at her—like he wasn’t quite ready to share it completely—made her hold back.

Instead, she turned the page, revealing another song title scribbled onto the next sheet.

"Meet Me in the Hallway."

Aspen’s brows knitted together as she read through the lyrics, the weight of the words pressing down on her chest. There was something haunting about them, something aching, as if each line bled with regret. The melody was absent, but she could feel it in the rhythm of the syllables, in the spaces between the words where silence spoke just as loudly.

Her fingers traced over the ink, eyes scanning over the phrase again and again.

"Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out..."

She swallowed thickly, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. “This one feels…” she trailed off, trying to pinpoint the exact emotion clawing at her chest.

Harry, who had been watching her reaction closely, answered before she could. His voice was quiet, low. “Guilty?”

Aspen’s head snapped up, and when their eyes met, she understood immediately. This wasn’t just a song. It was them.

It was all the nights she had spent wondering what she had done wrong, why he had looked at her like she was both too much and not enough all at once. It was every moment he had pushed her away despite the way his body betrayed him, lingering too close, brushing against her like he couldn't help himself.

It was the space he had put between them, and the silence that had suffocated her when she hadn't understood why.

Aspen’s chest tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the sketchbook. She had never asked him about those days, about why he had acted the way he had. Some part of her had been too afraid of the answer.

And yet, here it was—laid bare in ink and paper, more honest than he had ever been aloud.

“Harry…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, exhaling through his nose as he ran a hand through his curls. “I know,” he murmured, his eyes flickering away for a second before coming back to her. “I fucked up back then.”

Aspen sucked in a shaky breath. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Harry cut in, firmer this time. His jaw tensed, his fingers gripping the fabric of his jeans. “I need to. Because I know how I treated you before, and I don’t ever want you t'think for a second that it was because of you.”

Aspen’s heart twisted painfully in her chest. She searched his face, her own emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She had spent so long convincing herself that she had imagined the tension, that she had misread the way his eyes had lingered on her, the way he had always seemed to fight against something when he was near her.

And now, hearing him say it outright, the confirmation was almost too much.

“I don’t think that anymore,” she admitted, her voice soft, reassuring. “Not now.”

Harry let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping as if he had been holding onto something heavy for too long. His fingers inched toward hers, hesitant at first, until Aspen reached for him on her own, closing the distance.

His skin was warm, rough at the fingertips, and yet he held her hand with a gentleness that made her chest ache.

Aspen studied him for a long moment, taking in the little signs of his discomfort—the way his knee bounced slightly, the way his thumb rubbed absentmindedly over her knuckles, as if grounding himself. She could see the vulnerability in his face, the unspoken weight behind his words.

Slowly, a small smile pulled at her lips. “I think it’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Both of them.”

Harry’s eyes flickered up to meet hers, searching for any trace of dishonesty. “Yeah?”

Aspen nodded. “Yeah.”

For a second, he just stared at her, and then something in him seemed to settle. His grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly, and a small, genuine smile spread across his lips.

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Didn’t plan on showing you these t'day,” he admitted, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his tone.

Aspen squeezed his hand, her heart swelling with something deep and warm. “I’m glad you did.”

They sat there, fingers intertwined, the sketchbook still resting between them like a silent bridge to all the things they had never said. And for the first time in a long time, neither of them felt the need to fill the silence.

Because for once, it wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t suffocating.

It was simply them.

A quiet stillness settled between them, warm and familiar, as Aspen gently traced the edges of the sketchbook with her fingertips. The weight of everything they had just shared lingered in the air, unspoken yet understood. Harry, still holding her hand, let his thumb lazily graze over her knuckles, grounding himself in the moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the intimacy of her learning about his songs, or if it was simply the way she looked at him—like he was something good, something worth knowing—but a sense of peace washed over him.

Without thinking, he shifted closer, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. Aspen let out a quiet breath of surprise but didn’t resist, instinctively tucking herself against him. Her cheek pressed softly against his shoulder, and Harry relished the feeling of her fitting so perfectly against him.

For a moment, they sat like that, just breathing in each other’s presence.

Then, Harry tilted his head down, brushing his lips against her temple. It was slow, lingering, like he wanted to imprint himself into her skin. “Didn’t know how much I needed this,” he murmured, voice low and thick with something tender.

Aspen smiled, her fingers finding the hem of his sleeve and lightly toying with the fabric. “Needed what?” she asked softly.

Harry pressed another kiss against her hair, his lips barely leaving her skin as he whispered, “You. Just you, sugar.”

Aspen felt her chest tighten in the best way, a warmth spreading through her limbs at his words. She turned slightly in his hold, looking up at him with those soft, doe-like eyes of hers. The affection in them made something deep in his chest clench, a feeling so strong it nearly stole his breath.

Without hesitation, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, lazy kiss. It wasn’t rushed or filled with desperation—it was something deeper, something sweeter. His lips moved against hers with a careful kind of reverence, as if every kiss was meant to tell her all the things he struggled to put into words.

Aspen sighed against his mouth, her hand sliding up to rest against his chest, fingers curling slightly into his shirt. She felt his heartbeat beneath her palm—steady, strong, real.

Harry couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. “God, you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered between kisses, voice hushed like he was speaking a secret only for her.

Aspen’s cheeks warmed, and she buried her face against his neck, a quiet giggle escaping her lips. “You always say that.”

Harry chuckled, nuzzling against her. “’Cause it’s true.”

She hummed in response, her fingers drawing small patterns against his chest. The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t awkward or uncertain. It was filled with the quiet kind of love that didn’t need to be spoken to be felt.

But then Harry, feeling the way she melted into him, feeling the way her presence made everything better, suddenly had the overwhelming urge to say it out loud.

The words formed on his tongue before he could second-guess himself.

“I love you.”

Aspen stiffened slightly against him, her breath catching.

Harry felt his heart stutter, a rare flicker of nervousness crawling up his spine. He hadn’t planned on saying it—not yet, not now—but the moment had felt too right to hold it back. And now, waiting for her response, he felt completely, utterly exposed.

Aspen slowly pulled back just enough to look up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if trying to determine if she had heard him correctly.

Harry held her gaze, unwavering. He didn’t regret saying it. Harry was more so nervous if he had said it too soon, or if it was too much right now.

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her throat working as she swallowed. She looked so soft—so pure in the way she was taking in his words, like she wanted to tuck them away somewhere safe.

Then, almost shyly, she ducked her head, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that made Harry’s chest tighten. Her fingers played with the hem of his sleeve again, fidgeting. And then, in the quietest, sweetest voice, she whispered, “I love you too.”

Harry swore his heart stopped for a second.

A slow, breathy chuckle left his lips, pure relief flooding through him. “Yeah?” he murmured, tipping her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him again.

Aspen nodded, still impossibly shy, but her eyes held no hesitation. “Yeah.”

Harry felt something shift inside him, something settle. He leaned down, pressing another lingering kiss to her lips, his grip around her tightening like he never wanted to let go.

“Sweetest thing,” he whispered against her mouth.

Aspen smiled against his lips, and when they pulled away, she nestled back into his side, her fingers tracing absentminded shapes against his arm.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, hearts steady and full.

And for the first time in a long time, Harry felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 5/?

× Elysium (noun) : a place or condition of ideal happiness. type of: fictitious place, imaginary place, mythical place.

Word Count: 8.1k

Masterlist

A Noah Sebastian x OC Series

× Summary: Noah and his new found (sort of) friend, Persephone, battle the trivial ins and outs of being teenagers in a world that doesn't accept you. They survive together all the way into adulthood - with bouts of loneliness included - where the world is still a fickle bitch.

× Warnings!: smut (chapter 4 and beyond), language, violence, slowburn, friends to lovers to enemies back to friends, rinse and repeat (not even in that order), sexual themes, etc. Each chapter will have its own set of separate warnings.

× Author Notes: ( 1 ) I'm sorry that this took so long! I had majority written for awhile but it just didn't feel right. I'm not even sure if it finally does but I'm going with it!

× Chapter Warnings!: smut (oral - m receiving), language, talks of mental illness, drinking.

Happy reading! xoxo

SPRING 2016

PERSEPHONE

“What are you doing?”

Noah yawned out his words as he stirred in bed, an inked hand lifting to scratch at his chest. She didn't even look up from the little comic-like scene she had been doodling - this being what she had chosen to throw herself into hours ago when she couldn't sleep and needed a distraction. 

Sleep. What a foreign thing that was to her nowadays. It infuriated her beyond belief, much more than anyone around her could've guessed. Seph had taken to not talking much about the issues she was having because she knew Noah would only fixate on them and try to help. And while she appreciated his attempts, she couldn't stop herself from wondering if they were doing more harm than good. 

Maybe their lack of full on intimacy didn't sound like a huge deal, but to her, it was making her lose her mind. Although, not because she was aching for it (even if she was); this was more so due to all the thoughts it was causing her to have. The worries. The overthinking. It was becoming almost unbearable up in her brain. 

“Hmm?” Noah hummed curiously when she didn't yet give a response. 

“Just some drawing.” 

Seph allowed her eyes to flicker up to him, a slight smile being forced across her lips. She was sure he wouldn't believe it, but she didn't have it in her to dwell on that right then. 

“Did you have breakfast?”

Jesus fucking Christ. Why couldn't he ever stop? 

It's not his fault. Don't take it out on him. 

“Yeah, I made some peanut butter toast awhile ago.”

A small lie, although not completely. She had made said toast, but unfortunately, she only took a single bite of it before the texture assaulted her senses and she had to swallow it down with the help of a leftover Sprite in the fridge. No idea who it belonged to, but it was flat as hell. 

Noah nodded, again yawning as he shifted onto his side to face her. A long arm snaked around her waist and gave a firm tug, forcing her to set her sketchbook aside so she could be pulled into his warmth without issue. Now that his chest was pressed into her back, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck and released a sigh of content. 

If only she could feel as carefree as he did right then. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I'm good,” she softly spoke, fingertips trailing along the top of his hand that closed around her. 

“Just tired because I didn't sleep well.” Seph elaborated a bit, just so Noah wouldn't further worry about her. If she blamed it all on being tired, then there would be no issue, right? 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against her skin. 

“We gotta shoot that video today, so I'll be gone for a bit. Did you want to come?”

Aka 'do you need a babysitter?’

Seph forced those thoughts to pause. She couldn't assume this is what Noah meant all because he was asking if she wanted to tag along. Who's to say he didn't actually want her there? 

Adjusting within his arms, she angled herself back a bit so she could see his face. She then smiled and shook her head, just before placing a light kiss to his awaiting mouth. Morning Noah was always the most adorable to her. His heavy lidded eyes and pouty lips were something she could stare at all day if given the option. 

“I have therapy, so I can't. You need some time with the guys without me cramping your style, anyway.” 

Noah rolled his eyes and tightened the hold he had on her body, his face then burying back into her neck where he began to lightly kiss a couple of times. 

“You give us our style. You know that.” 

Slender fingers slithered along her side, dropping over the curve of her hip before managing to slip beneath the fabric of the t-shirt she wore. Noah rubbed gentle circles into her skin, this soft sensation causing her eyes to flutter closed and her lips to part to allow a small exhale through. 

No, she couldn't let herself fall victim to this again because she knew exactly how it would end. Since Noah struggled to keep his hands off of her, he would either continue to caress her body until she made the move to progress further, which he would reject in his own way. Or he would sink his fingers between her thighs, quickly get her off, then carry on as if he wasn't hard and pressed into her lower back. 

While the latter option sounded far better, both actually sucked. 

“Is everyone coming back here tonight?” She figured changing the subject and focusing on something else would help distract not only her mind, but also those damned fingers of his. 

Noah made a small sound that told her yes, nodding slightly. 

“It'll be another not so chill night.”

There was a disdain in his voice that she hadn't been expecting. Did he not like when everyone piled into his shared place for a night of drinking and nonsense? 

Reaching for his hand to stop him from taking things further, she laced their fingers together and folded their now intertwined digits into her chest. 

“At least you'll have me there,” she shrugged. 

× × ×

“Persephone…if we adjust your medications again, this will be the third time within a year. In my professional opinion, I don't think you're really giving them a chance.”

Professional. Right. What a jackass. 

This was the statement that finally broke her that day. Her shoulders dropped and her head bowed, heavy sobs immediately beginning to escape her. A hand lifted to cover her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sounds, though she knew the older man wasn't so blind that he hadn't witnessed her oncoming break. 

“You don't get it. No one gets it.” She choked out while tugging down the sleeve of her (Noah’s) hoodie so she could wipe beneath her nose. 

“I hate the way all of the meds have made me. I'm not myself. I don't feel normal. I mean…who I was before wasn't so great, considering, but at least then I felt something that wasn't just…emptiness and anger and this sadness that's been eating away at me.”

Trembling hands cradled her face after dropping it into her palms, the tears not yet ceasing. It felt like a dam had broken within her - or maybe it was just a patch. Something told her this wasn't the breakdown she had brewing inside.

“I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't even enjoy my time with the guy I fucking lo-” she paused before finishing the sentence, cutting herself off with a shake of her head. 

Nope. She wasn't going to admit that for the first time to her goddamn therapist. 

Seph took in a deep breath as she wiped the tears from beneath her eyes. She was hoping she could get herself together now, though mostly because she didn't want to return to the public with red and puffy eyes. 

“Maybe I'm just better without the meds. Is that an option? Things in my life are different now, right? So maybe the changes will help me stay level headed. I just need to feel like myself again.” 

“No.” The man was quick to respond. “Stopping medications abruptly is never suggested and you know this. It could make your negative feelings worse, as well as become more physical ailments, too.”

He deeply sighed as he looked at her across the room. It was clear to her that he was at a loss for words, though she wasn't surprised. It's the same expression she received time and time again from every therapist who was unlucky enough to have her land in their lap. Seph knew she wasn't that much of a handful, especially not in comparison to other people in the world. She was just…frustrating. Possibly even incapable of receiving help because she wasn't willing to open up to it. Or whatever the fuck her last therapist had told her parents. 

It was all bullshit either way. 

× × ×

Against her therapist’s better judgment, and possibly even her own, Seph had decided on her way back to Noah's after her appointment that she was going to put her medications to rest. She wasn't going to be so irresponsible as to quit them cold turkey, but tapering herself off was definitely in the works. Any of the effects she may experience couldn't be nearly as bad as how she was currently feeling on a day to day basis. This is what she told herself to justify the decision. 

Merely having put this plan into action was already lifting her spirits. She felt happier, lighter in her steps. Maybe even excited for the night that lied ahead? While parties used to be her cup of tea, it should come as no surprise that she wasn't as lively at them as she once had been. 

Not this time. She thought to herself while getting ready that evening. She was going to be the old Seph that night even if it killed her. 

High waisted shorts that were cut entirely too short in the back? Check. Random t-shirt of Noah’s that she had tied and tucked up at her waist? Check. Secret vodka shots that were taken before the guys arrived back? Double check. 

“You seem to be in a good mood.” Noah mused as he approached her a little later that night. “Therapy go well?”

Seph peered up at him, a grin manifesting over her lips. She assumed he didn't think anything of the cup in her hand that was a mixture of fruit punch and vodka, since the red juice was typically being had by her during any of their parties. Why would he suspect the second ingredient now? 

“It was fine, but we can talk about it tomorrow.” A wave of her hand brushed the topic away. She didn't want to dwell on something like that right then when she was supposed to be having fun, especially when she knew telling Noah about her session and her decision afterwards would put a stop to all the said fun. 

With her cup clutched securely in her hand, she took a step closer to Noah so her arms could link around his waist. Her body pressed firm into his now that her head angled up and her chin could prop against his chest, just so she could get a clear view of his face. 

“What are you doing?” Noah chuckled, a hand of his own rubbing along her back so she knew her sudden affection was welcomed despite the people. 

“Nothin’, I just missed you.” 

Wasn't it funny how she had once been worried about what people would think of her for cozying up with someone like Noah? And now, not only could she not care less about what others thought, she was actually pretty happy to be with him. 

When happiness could be felt. 

Not to mention the night and day difference Noah was to Mason. Her ex would always act embarrassed when she was a little more affectionate and craving his attention, even more so when others were around. But Noah? He leaned into it and gave it right back, sometimes tenfold. 

“How was the video shoot?” 

“Uh…” Noah shrugged, his other hand bringing his beer up for a swallow as the one still caressed along her back. “It went okay. Some creative differences but that's to be expected.” 

At this point in their relationship, Seph believed she knew Noah pretty well. She could tell when he was lying, or at least withholding things from her, and this was one of those times. Not even her vodka goggles could make her blind to it. 

“That doesn't sound too good…” The words were mumbled against his mouth after she had pushed up onto her tip toes to press her lips to his. While the initial kiss only lasted a second or so, Seph couldn't stop herself from leaning in for another, this one lingering for longer. 

How could it not when he always tasted so damn good? Still, she made a mental note to ask him more about the video shoot later. 

“Hey! We're gearing up for beer pong!” 

Folio’s voice cut through the little bubble they had placed themselves in which unfortunately forced Noah to pull back from her a bit. He looked off to the side where his bandmate was shuffling away, giving him a nod and a wave of his hand as a signal that he understood. 

Seph huffed, the pout obvious on her lips from the lack of connection. She so badly wanted to be as close as humanly possible to him, more so than usual. It was hard to tell if Noah shared the same desire, though. Things had been so off with him lately, as well as herself, that it was impossible to know for sure. Obviously she had yet to take Nick’s advice and actually talk to Noah about it. 

“I'm gonna run to the bathroom and then we're getting in on that game.” Noah tilted his head back to finish off what remained of his beer. 

“You're on my team, by the way, since you're oddly good at it…” 

Eying her suspiciously, Noah began to take slow steps backwards until her hand slipped from his. Seph could only laugh and roll her eyes at him, knowing damn well she had explained to him before that she had been playing beer pong almost religiously since she was thirteen. So, of course she was good at it. 

Once he rounded the corner down the hallway, she took in a deep breath, her smile falling. Her frustrations were really beginning to grow and that worried her. How much longer until she outright exploded? 

Goddammit. She couldn't keep letting her inner most thoughts drift to these things. This was supposed to be her fun night. Not her 'dwell on whether or not Noah is over me’ night. 

With pursed lips she glanced in the direction of the hallway he had sauntered down mere seconds ago. No…she shouldn't…right? 

Seph refused to think about it for too long. After all, she had vowed to act like her old self. The version of her that was all for taking chances and doing things that were probably pretty dumb. This little idea definitely fit the criteria. 

After finishing off the remnants of her drink, she found herself following the same path Noah had taken. It was mostly empty in this area of the house now because the other party-goers were either outside or joining in on the commotion in the kitchen and dining room. As she approached the bathroom, she heard the toilet flush and then the sink turn on, which didn't give her much time to back out if she chose to. 

Oh, hell. Why was she so nervous anyway? Noah was basically her boyfriend (relationship defining conversation still pending) and this is the sort of thing they did. What's the worst that could happen?  

Well…he could completely reject her…that was always likely…

Thankfully, the bathroom door opened before she could think any harder on that pesky thought. Noah appeared slightly shocked to see her standing there, though she barely had time to register his expression shift before she was closing the space between them and pushing him back into the bathroom with the force of her body colliding with his. 

“Seph-”

She cut him off after nudging the door closed with her elbow, a hand grabbing the back of his head and pulling his lips down to hers. His own hands were quick to find her waist, firmly clutching at her bare skin and pulling her in closer against him. 

Good. This was the sort of reaction she was looking for. 

Seph tightly grasped his hair between her fingers as she moaned into the kiss, letting him know exactly what she was angling towards. Noah seemed to be accepting of it by the way he guided her back into the wall and then used a singular hand to pin her wrists up above her head. She could already feel the bulge beginning to form in his jeans - and this made her so ecstatic that she barely knew how to contain herself. 

Fuck, she just knew she was about to cum so hard. 

“I don't know what's gotten into you…” he breathed across her skin while biting a trail down her jaw and neck, his free hand dragging along her waist. “But it's fucking hot.” 

Noah pressed himself between her thighs and tightened the grip he had on her wrists, though only for a brief moment before releasing them. Oh, so he found it hot when she took the lead? Noted. 

“Only thing I need getting into me right now is your dick.” 

Seph didn't care how ridiculous that sounded because not only was her brain foggy with only her desire for Noah, but she was also pretty buzzed from the shots and her mixed drink. Not drinking for a year was really getting the best of her. 

The moment her hands were free, they dropped to begin working on the irritating button and zipper of his jeans. Her lips worked skillfully over his as they engaged in another heated kiss; tongues massaged together, moans mixing, both of their primal needs for the other heightening in sync. Noah’s hands were in her hair and then feeling along her body, grabbing and touching at every bit of her that he could. She didn't even care when he drunkenly pulled too hard on her necklace by accident, almost ripping it off in the process. Thankfully the chain remained secure. 

“I knew you'd be hard for me already…” she taunted after slipping her fingers beneath the band of his boxers and feeling for herself just how hard he actually was. The answer: hard enough for his cock to pulse at the first graze of her fingers. 

A few steps forward and she had backed him up to the counter, all while she simultaneously pushed his boxers down and tugged his cock free. Seph looked up at him with a devilish smirk as her thumb grazed along the tip, this slight motion causing his hips to jerk forward and his hands to clutch the counter tight enough that his knuckles turned white. 

“Fuck,” Noah groaned. The sound of his breathing was already picking up despite her having just secured her fingers around his thick cock, slowly pumping along every inch. 

It was the expressions he made that she really liked watching - which now helped her realize why Noah also liked looking up at her as he was eating her out. Being able to see the other person coming undone more and more with every passing second was euphoric all on its own. His eyes closed and his jaw clenched, lips briefly folding in before another moan erupted from his chest. Of course just her simply jerking him off was going to be a show for her - it had been forever since he let her even touch him below the waist last. 

Seph picked up her pace, the grip she had tightening every time her hand would twist up towards the top. She noticed how he was trying his best to stop himself from thrusting forward into her palm, and while she wanted to call him out for it, she decided against it because she knew he wouldn't be able to hold back once she was on her knees. 

Speaking of - that's exactly where she had ended up. 

Heavy lidded eyes stared down at her now, his fingers helping with moving her hair out of her face and gathering it back in a makeshift ponytail. Seph smiled up at him just as she gripped the base of his cock and secured her plump lips around the tip, her tongue swirling around and gathering the bead of moisture that had already appeared. 

Noah did a sharp inhale, and she could feel the way his body tensed while she had him in such a vulnerable position. Since she didn't get to blow him often, she definitely liked to make the most of it. After taking in a deep breath of her own through her nose, her tongue laid against the underside of his cock, her head beginning its tortuously slow bob to take him in inch by inch. 

“Goddamn, Seph,” Noah cursed above her, “your mouth…”

There was no way he was able to finish the statement once she was swallowing his cock down at a faster pace, bringing him as far back to her throat as she could. Her new motions quite the contrast to how she had just been teasing him only seconds ago. Noah’s grip of her hair tightened so he could help guide her, a bit of force being applied in an attempt to push her deeper. 

“Lift your shirt up,” he then demanded, which she quickly obeyed by hauling the t-shirt up to rest on the top of her chest. 

Noah’s eyes focused on her chest, watching as she used one hand to massage her breasts from over her bra, the other still holding firm to his cock. She could see his eyes bouncing back and forth between her chest and the sight of most of his cock disappearing past her lips, since she was still trying her best to keep her sights set on him. 

A low groan escaped him, his hips thrusting forward to further feel more of her mouth. “You're so fucking hot.”

Seph then took it upon herself to tug down the cups of the bralette she wore, baring her chest to him. If his pupils weren't blown before then they definitely were now as he watched her play with herself, both for his entertainment and also to help relieve some of the tension she was feeling. 

Unfortunately, her dream of cumming hard was not in the works of coming true. 

“Dude, what the fuck are you-”

“Fuck! Folio! Get out!” 

Suddenly she was forced to the side and her mouth emptied as he pulled back, Noah’s body turning to shield not only himself, but also her from the intruder. 

“Shitshitshit! Dude! I'm sorry!” 

Seph was quickly trying to pull her shirt down after she had dropped to her bottom on the bathroom floor, while also attempting to see around Noah so that Folio could catch a glimpse of her glare. 

“Shut the fucking door! No! Get out and then shut the door!”

She had been so goddamn close to getting what she wanted. There was no way Noah would've let them exit the bathroom without first making her cum around his cock, but now either of them getting off was a thing of the past. 

“You live here! You have a bedroom!” Folio yelled from the other side of the door, prompting both her and Noah to simultaneously yell for him to ‘fuck off’ - a few other profanities and choice words also added into the mix. 

Seph groaned in annoyance as she continued to work at adjusting her bra and then tying the shirt up at her waist again. When she looked up, Noah had already stuffed himself back into his jeans - albeit a little uncomfortably - and was now extending a hand out to her. 

“I'm pissed,” she exclaimed after taking his hand and pulling herself to her feet with his assistance. Noah heavily sighed, his eyes still focused on her. He began to smooth his hands over her hair, gently tucking strands back behind her ear while nodding in agreement. 

“I'm more pissed that Folio might've seen your tits.” 

A pout and a whine took over her, though Noah only chuckled and pulled her into his chest where she could bury her face for a moment. 

“Don't worry. I'll kick his ass if he says anything about your tits. I already know they're amazing, no one else needs to.” 

“Not funny!” She huffed, the back of her hand lightly smacking against his shoulder. 

“I would see if you wanted to continue, but uh…” he looked down between them, his brows pulling together as if he was concentrating. After a few seconds, Noah released an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “I think the moment is gone…seeing Folio’s dumbass face makes it impossible to stay hard.” 

The moment was so gone that they had no choice but to slyly join the party again. Seph was crossing her fingers that Folio hadn't opened his big mouth to anyone about what he just walked in on, but by the look Alexa gave her, she knew how unlikely that was. 

Thankfully, nothing was said. A few sideways glances weren't going to get her all riled up, not when all of her unhappy feelings were still currently being directed at Folio. She glared at him from over the brim of her cup, though he was none the wiser. Noah, on the other hand, noticed each and every time. Seph could hear his subtle chuckle accompanied by his hand gliding along her lower back as if that would be enough to calm her. It was…kind of…but not fully. 

“Are you drinking?” Noah had bent down so his lips were at her ear, allowing her to clearly hear his inquiry over the sound of mindless chatter around them. 

Uh oh, she had been caught. 

Seph contemplated her response, though she eventually landed on simply nodding. Lying about it definitely wouldn't have been a good idea. If Noah was asking, then that meant he already knew she was. Huh…wonder what it could've been to give her away. 

“Yeah…” she glanced down to her drink, then back up to his eyes that had focused on her with quite a bit of intent. “It was a not so great session, okay? I just wanted to unwind. It's the first time in a year, I swear.” 

A smile then pulled up on his lips and he laughed, head slightly shaking. 

“Seph…Seph…stop. It's okay. I was only asking so I'd know. You know your limits, not me.” 

To further prove that he wasn't upset, Noah lightly held her chin between his fingers and met her halfway for a chaste kiss. As they parted, his arm slung across her shoulders, keeping her pulled in close against him. 

“Never Have I Ever!” Alexa suddenly interjected despite whatever conversations were happening. 

The mention of the game made Jolly groan, his eyes, along with a few others, rolling at the suggestion. 

“Oh, fuck off, you big babies. It's fun! No topics off limits, yeah?” The other girl continued with an animated wiggle of her eyebrows, five fingers now being held up. “And we didn't have enough cups left for beer pong so you get what you get.” 

The remainder of the people around the kitchen island begrudgingly followed suit until they all had a hand up, long swallows of their drinks already being taken before the game even began. 

“That's only four fingers…” she called out to Nicholas, whose brows furrowed as his eyes attempted to focus on his right hand.

Oh, someone had definitely had a bit too much to drink. 

“Ah, shit.” He laughed, only to add the fifth finger to stand with the others. “That's my bad.”

“I'll start!” Alexa further announced while her eyes danced around the people before eventually landing on her. She grinned, already erupting into a small fit of laughter. 

“Never have I ever…been to Sweden.”

Seph narrowed her eyes, though opted to lower a finger for no other reason but to play into the joke. At this point, why the hell not?

“Very funny, you bitch.” She grumbled behind her cup, taking a swallow from the sickeningly sweet concoction. 

The only other person to not have five fingers up was Jolly, and he still appeared very lost and confused by the joke exchanged. 

No, she wasn't actually mad about her Sweden trip being brought up, but Noah still gave the back of her neck a reassuring squeeze when his touch traveled down along her back and then up again. The way he was always touching her definitely didn't help the need she still had for him, although she wasn't going to complain. What she was going to do was squeeze her thighs together to hopefully relieve the slightest bit of tension. 

It sure as fuck didn't work. 

As the game began to slide into a full swing, Seph quickly realized that people were playing rather dirty and purposely singling others out. She should've known this by the opening statement being about her, but she had figured that was just Alexa being…well…Alexa. 

During the game, Seph had told herself not to look at the number of fingers Noah had up, or which he had lowered for. She didn't want to know, especially when the questions were geared more towards the sexual side of things. Unfortunately, when she accidentally caught a glimpse of his two fingers up compared to her four that remained, her mind began to wander. 

Which had he lowered for? 

Oh god…it hadn't been the threesome related statement, right? 

Seph was sure he also hadn't lowered when someone drunkenly muttered incoherent words about having sex with more than two people in a night…right? 

Fuck, she was going to be sick. 

“Never have I ever acted like a complete diva on a video shoot.” 

Wait, what? 

Seph’s eyes quickly drifted to the direction of the voice before realizing the words had been spoken by Nick. He was staring dead at Noah, no laughter or the slightest hint of a smile to be seen. Well…this surely wasn't the Nick she was used to. 

That didn't stop Noah from dropping a finger, leaving him with only one. That one was switched to his middle finger, it now being directed to Nick. 

Before she had a chance to question what Nick was talking about, Noah’s voice cut through the silence that had fallen upon the group. 

“Never have I ever told Folio that I think my best friend’s girlfriend is hot.” 

“Okay, what's happening?” Seph pulled back from Noah a bit so she could look back and forth between both him and Nick. Neither responded, or really even paid her any mind, for they were practically glaring at each other. 

“I mean…Seph is pretty hot…” Alexa nervously murmured to cut the tension. 

“Never have I ever been caught by Folio getting blown by my girlfriend!” 

Jolly laughed, pointing to Folio who was appearing as if he wanted to just curl up and die right then. “Bro, you got a big fucking mouth.” 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, guys! Get some drinks in me and I just start saying things. It's not done on pur-”

Alexa gave his arm a tug to silence him, her head shaking. Yeah, they all knew this wasn't the time for explanations. 

“What is going on?! I really just need someone to fill me in on what I missed because-”

“Never have I ever rejected my girlfriend's advances for sex for over two weeks!” Nick continued despite it not being his turn technically, but it was safe to assume all cordial game play had already gone right out the window. 

Nick’s exclamation was loud enough to cover her own protests and demands for them to cut it out. She abruptly stopped talking, her eyes going wide, the entirety of her body freezing. 

But wait, did they keep saying girlfriend? Okay, now wasn't the time to dwell on that. 

“Oh shit…” Alexa whispered in shock at the outcome of her request to play the juvenile game. 

The way Noah tensed beside her was painfully obvious. She was far too scared to look over at him, knowing damn well he would be wearing an expression that screamed how hurt and furious he was. 

“Nick!” Seph hissed. 

It was like her saying his name had brought him back down to Earth, because he blinked a couple of times and then looked at her. His eyes also went wide to match her own and that's when she knew Nick had no idea he had even just yelled that until the reality of it came toppling down onto him. 

“You told him that?”

Noah’s voice had softened, yet there was still an edge to it; and fuck, was it sharp. 

That was when she finally mustered enough courage to tilt her head up, their eyes meeting. She tried to speak but no words would come out, nothing more beyond a couple of syllables that meant absolutely nothing.  

“No, Noah, I- I mean yes, I did, but I just needed someone to tal…can we talk about this in private?” 

“Nah, you want to talk about our private business to Nick every chance you get, so why don't we let everyone listen in too?” 

“It's not like that!” She quickly protested, her head shaking back and forth.

“He’s my best friend, Seph!”

“He's my friend too! I just didn't have anyone else I could talk to and he's always been able to give me decent advice and-”

“Was it Nick’s decent advice that told you to throw yourself at me in the bathroom?” 

This was the moment when people began to clear out. Of course they wanted to linger and listen to the fight, but everyone was smart enough to know better. For the most part, at least. Before she knew it, only her, Noah, and Nick remained in the kitchen. 

“What?” Her face contorted in confusion, very much lost by the question. “No! That's not…no.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll go ahead to my room and you two can gossip a bit more.” 

Much to his dismay, or so she could assume, she wasn't going to let it drop like that. Instead, she was right on his heels, following him back to his bedroom. Nick was calling out behind them, though neither stopped to figure out what he was saying. 

“Noah…” she softly spoke his name after closing the bedroom door, hesitant steps then being taken closer to where he stood. 

“Do you really want to know why we haven't had sex?” A hand was held up that silently signaled for her to stop progressing forward, which she obeyed, swaying body and all. 

“It's because you aren't attracted to me anymore, right?” Maybe Noah’s question had been rhetorical, but her drunken brain was always going to get the best of her. 

“Because you want someone with more experience or someone with less issues or someone who-” her voice was cracking and wavering as she spoke, the tears welling in her eyes threatening to fall over. 

Never before had she been so thankful for Noah cutting her off. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Seph, stop. Listen to me.” Noah moved towards her, his inked digits grasping onto her shoulders so she had no choice but to stare straight at him. There was a deep breath that he exhaled, and Seph could tell that he was now struggling to find the words of his own. 

“When I look at you…I just want to fuck the absolute shit out of you. I want you begging and taking it and making those specific little moans that you do when you're really into it.” Noah paused and took a deep breath as if simply saying the words was too much for him to admit. Vulnerability wasn't something he did well. 

“But then at the same time I also just want to hold you as close as possible and make sure you're okay.” His voice softened now, just as his hands released the grip on her shoulders so he could instead slowly rub along her arms.  

“I have to know that you're okay, Seph, and that will always trump my physical needs.”

Now, why the hell couldn't he have said these things to her when they were both sober and shit hadn't just hit the fan? Why did a big explosion have to happen before he would express the deeper side of emotions to her? 

“And lately, I just…I can tell you're not okay. I've tried to get you to talk to me about it but you've been closed off, and I know you're annoyed with my questions all the time but I have to be able to say that I did everything I could to help.”

After a brief shift in his expression, Noah dropped his hands from her arms and took a step back. Maybe he had just remembered that he was mad at her and he needed to act accordingly. Or maybe he felt awkward since she had yet to say anything back to him. 

Oh, right, she did need to actually open her mouth…

“I never asked you to do that for me.”

Wait, no. She was supposed to say something nice! What the fuck was that?

Noah appeared both perplexed and offended by how she chose to respond. If he was trying to figure out why she had said that, then hopefully he’d be able to fill her in once he stumbled upon a conclusion. Not even she knew why. 

“You're unbelievable. What were you expecting me to do?” He breathed out a laugh of disbelief with a hint of annoyance - both completely understandable to be feeling right then. “Stand back and watch as you fade away to nothing? Literally and figuratively.” 

“No, no, that's not what I meant. I don't know why I said that.”

Seph lifted her hands to her head to press against her temples. A headache was slowly creeping up, though she wasn't sure if it was a response to her drinking or the stressful night they were experiencing. 

“Then what did you mean, Seph? I'd really like to know.” 

With her eyes closed and her fingers rubbing slow circles around her temples, she still somehow managed to shake her head and heavily exhale. There was too much going on her mind right then; focusing on one singular thought was proving to be harder and harder. 

“I don't know. I…fuck.” 

Noah dropped his hands to his sides in a dramatic smack and then rubbed over his own face, his form shifting back a few more steps away from her. He was aggravated. She would know this in any mental state. It didn't matter how hazy her mind was. 

“It doesn't make sense, okay? Like…why? Why would you think constantly rejecting me would be helping me?” 

“Because I didn't want you to use us having sex as an outlet!” 

“Oh, I wasn't allowed to have a few minutes of happiness and actually feel something because you were worried I'd…what? Rely on it? Become addicted? Constantly need to sit on your dick?”

“It's longer than a few minutes…” he grumbled. 

“That wasn't a fucking dig at you, Noah!” She groaned in frustration. To say that she was annoyed by his childish comment would've been an understatement. Of course that's what he would choose to latch onto. 

“Also, what guy doesn't want their girlfriend, or whatever, to be on their dick all the time?”

Wasn't that supposed to be the male dream or something like that? 

Those thoughts pushed aside, Seph and Noah stared silently at each other. She could see all the thoughts running through his mind, just as she assumed he could see the same for her. There was a lot she wanted to say, but none of it seemed like it would sound right. It wouldn't feel right. This was obviously a conversation they should be having when sober. 

But was that going to stop her? Probably not. 

“I know you were coming from a good place, okay, I get that. But…fuck…you don't understand how doing that made me feel absolutely terrible. Like something was wrong with me because why else would you be rejecting my advances?” There was another crack in her voice as she tried her best to explain her feelings, though that wasn't very easy to put into words. They both struggled with emoting verbally - if that wasn't already painfully obvious. 

“I needed you to be my boyfriend, Noah. Not my dad or my doctor. Or whatever you are, I don't know.” 

“You don't know? The fuck does that mean? What are you talking about?” 

Seph shrugged as she dropped her eyes down, a thumb now at her mouth for her to nervously chew on her cuticles. 

“You don't know if we're together or not?” 

There was now silence coming from her, this being enough of a response to tell Noah that yes, she didn't know. Or maybe she did? It was all very complicated and she was having an increasingly hard time wrapping her head around it. 

“Christ, Seph, of course we are. Why- what even makes you think we aren't?”

Well, now she definitely felt silly and possibly even a little bit ridiculous. She glanced up to look at Noah from beneath her lashes, her shoulder relaying another small shrug. 

“We've never really talked about it…so I didn't know…”

“You practically live here! In this room! With me! We hold hands, we cook for each other, we sleep in the same bed, we…do other things in bed!” 

Seph wanted to remind him that they rarely did other things in bed as of lately, but she figured he already had to know this. It's what had spawned the entire argument to begin with. 

“Well, I don't know, Noah! I'm not here every night so I don't know what you do or with who!”

Noah definitely looked offended now. Oops. 

“And you're about to leave for tour! Maybe you don't want anything serious before then so you can just…do whatever while you're gone!” 

The words were flowing from her at a rapid pace. Word vomit as people liked to call it. 

“You'll be meeting all these new people and seeing new faces and making new fun memories! While I'm sitting back here in Richm-”

“Then come with us!”

Seph abruptly halted her word vomit so she could process what he had just said. Her brows knitted together in confusion, a deep breath then being taken. 

“What?”

“Come with us on tour,” he repeated. 

“It's just a van, so it'll be cramped and we’ll be in shitty motels, and the food will be from wherever we pass, and I can't promise it'll always smell the best with all the other guys, but I want you to come.” 

More silence from her. Noah’s words kept repeating in her head as she dissected them piece by piece, looking for any evidence that pointed towards him just offering this to shut her up for the night. 

Almost as if Noah could sense this, he took a step closer to her, a hand reaching out to lightly rub along the back of her arm. 

“I've been wanting to ask you but I was worried that maybe it wouldn't be what's best for you right now. I was being your doctor and not your boyfriend…I can see that.” 

The hand on her elbow tightened so he could pull her into him, both of his long arms then securing around her to keep her close against his chest. Seph instinctively circled her own arms around his waist, face buried into him as he planted a kiss to the top of her head. 

This was where she felt the most comfortable. Her happy place. 

“Okay,” she finally murmured. The word was muffled but she knew Noah heard her by the way his arms tightened even more around her body. 

“Okay?” He repeated, clearly wanting her to elaborate even though he knew and she knew that he knew. 

“Okay, I'll go with you.” 

× × ×

REWIND: THE HILL'S GARDEN PARTY

NOAH

“I’m going to go grab some things real quick since we’re here, okay? It'll only take a couple of minutes.” 

Noah wanted to protest because that meant he would be left alone with the wolves, but he smiled and gave her a nod. She was already leaning in close to kiss him, which he would've been crazy to deny, and even crazier to ruin with his childish pout. 

Only when Seph disappeared into her house did he finally tear his gaze away from where she had been. He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, his eyes now drifting around to briefly study the faces of those around him. Some were still glancing his way but most had taken to acting like he wasn't even there. If they were friends with Seph's dad then he was sure only the nicest of things had been said about him. 

“Enjoying the party?”

Noah turned to see the devil himself approaching, a polite but slightly sinister smile taking residence on his face. There wasn't much that he was scared of but this man…he truly made his insides churn. 

“Can't really say it's my style,” he attempted to joke, a nervous laugh to follow. 

Mr. Hill only held his gaze even as he took a swallow from his drink. “I won't disagree with you.” 

“Listen…” his heavy hand laid against the back of Noah’s shoulder to guide him to the side, away from prying ears but not so distant that people would grow curious. “I thought you and I had come to an understanding.” 

Noah’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his jaw tightening and heart rate immediately picking up. 

“So, why are you here? And why is my daughter still parading around with you?” 

Silence was the only answer he could give. Back when Seph was away in Sweden, her dad had paid him a visit. Their conversation was mostly about the video circulating thanks to Maisie, but it had transitioned to the typical ‘stay away from my daughter’ monologue. Noah had only agreed so that the man would get out of his face. There was no intention to actually follow through with the empty promise, not until her dad 'sweetened the deal'. Initially he had denied all bribes but after the guys heard what the man was offering…

“I gave you the money to pay for that van your little band needed. I talked to my buddy who cut you the deal of a lifetime on your house. I held up my end of the bargain, so why haven't you? Are you not a man of your word, Noah?” 

Just hearing the things he had agreed to made him sick. There was a sting of acid in the back of his throat and he truly considered vomiting on Mr. Hill right then. Noah managed to swallow it down but only because he knew the man's suit cost more than his monthly mortgage. 

Despite Noah's silence, Seph’s dad could somehow read every thought he was having. He lowly chuckled, the grip on Noah’s shoulder briefly tightening. 

“Whatever you're thinking right now, go ahead and shove it all away. What you two have isn't love.” He grimaced through the last word. “It's fascination, rebellion, boredom.” 

“You don't know anything about what Seph and I have,” Noah finally spoke through gritted teeth. “If I could give you back every dime right now, I would. None of that stuff is more important than Seph.”

“No? Then why don't you go on and tell her? Let's find out from Persephone what's important.”

Noah shrugged the older man's hand from his shoulder, although in an indiscreet way that wouldn't draw the eye of others. He took in a sharp breath to attempt calming his nerves before shaking his head to the idiotic suggestion. 

“You want her to know even less than I do because you know it won't only be me she writes off.” Noah shared an intense glare with Mr. Hill, one that his wife must've noticed because she was soon approaching the pair and attempting to diffuse the conversation with a smile and quickly strung together lies. 

“Noah, it really was great to see you again,” Marilyn dramatically gushed while brushing a piece of invisible lint from her husband’s shoulder. “Dear, I think I just heard Bannon mention something about being in the market for a new office building?” 

With a tilt of his head, the man finished his drink and then pushed the empty glass into Noah’s chest for him to discard as if he was nothing more than the hired help.

“Davis,” he grumbled out his departure mere moments before Seph reappeared looking flushed but eager to leave. 

[ghostedgrim]

Nightmares in Ink. 1

Warnings: Mentions of violence, death, possible grammatical errors my dyslexic ass will fail to notice.

Story Masterlist. Version: Fem

Eric:

Normally, it's Max who greets the initiates when they jump off the train, but this year its me. Max and the other leaders believe it should be my responsibility because it's my first year as a leader. Honestly, I can't complain much, I look forward to meeting the fresh meat and watching them squirm when I tell them to jump.

I hear the train before I see it, that familiar vibration that hits your feet as it shakes the world around it without care. Then came the shouts of excitement and screams of terror, as initiates hopped off the train. A marriage of black, blue, white. I don't waste my time watching them all tumble. Soon after turning my back to step onto the ledge I hear the telling scream of an initiate plummeting to his or her or their death. It doesn't phase me, there's always at least one initiate that dies during this part.

I turn around to address the newcomers. "Alright listen up! I'm Eric, I am one of your leaders. If you want to enter Dauntless this is the way in." I gesture to the ledge and gaping hole beneath it. "And if you don't have the guts to jump," I shrug, "then you don't belong in Dauntless Someone's gotta be first, who's it gonna be" Several seconds pass and nobody moves. Max told me this year of initiates would be interesting, and I'm already dissapointed.

Just before I answer another dumb question a voice speaks up. "I'll jump. I'll be sure to let y'all know if it's a death trap or not." As the figure struts forward my thoughts come to a halt. Baggy boho orange pants, yellow shirt, like a candle flame in a way. But that's not what makes me freeze, it's the person's face, a face I see in my fear simulations, a face that keeps me up at night. A victim to a crime that changed thus city's view on Divergents. I step down from the ledge as the Amity transfer climbs onto it, her hair flying around wildly in the wind, and there was absolutely no hesitation to jump. One second she was there, then next she was gone.

The Lowe family incident, the incident that triggered the manhunt of Divergents. I force myself to stay in the present as the other initiates began to jump. One Amity, five Erudite, eight Candor, fifteen Dauntless born, twenty-nine initiates total. Only sixty percent will graduate.

Ever so slowly the other initiates begin to jump, well most, several simply trip or slip over the ledge when trying to climb onto it. Screams of fear, excitement, and feral laughter fills the air as they fall. Eventually only I and a Dauntless born remains. He's scrawny, no scars, no peircings, hair dye, or even a bruise.

"You lost pansycake? Did you figure out you picked the wrong faction?" To my dissapointment the boy doesn't retaliate, and damn near stumbles back when I approached. "I asked a question initiate! I'm starting to think you scored Amity in that aptitude test. Why did you pick Dauntless?"

The boy squirms under my gaze, "I didn't want to leave my sister behind. I believe I can beat out the weakness in me, prove I'm not Amity."

"If you're not in that net before I make it down those stairs consider yourself factionless." Personally I'd rather shove him off the roof, let him kiss the concrete, but unfortunately as a leader I have an image to uphold.

By the time I enter the cavernous space holding the net, the boy was getting pulled out of it by Four and another Dauntless member.

I try to pay no mind to the other initiates, but I can't help my gaze flickering over to the Amity transfer. The initiates seem to stay at least 3 feet away from the Lowe child. I don't blame them, her story is quite haunting. However their blatant fear is annoying. I look forward to pummeling it out of them.

The trek to my office is quick

"I told you this year would be interesting. You excited?" Max claps a hand onto my shoulder.

"Absolutely, I look forward to constantly monitoring a insane Amity transfer, and dealing with a Dauntless born who decided he should stay here rather than go to Amity where he belongs. It's utterly thrilling Max." The sarcasm nearly makes my tounge bleed.

Max gives a brief chuckle and opens my office door, "Come on Eric, the Lowe kid can't be that bad."

"You forget I was apprenticing under one of the Erudites assigned to investigate the Lowe kid when they took her away from Amity. I went to the crime scene, I watched the mother die in the hospital."

"It's been four years since the incident, Eric," Max stands infront of the office window overlooking the city while I settle into my desk chair, "A lot can happen in two years, especially in a place like Amity."

"While alot can happen I was there when she first arrived, and I was still there a year later when Erudite brought her back after we learned Amity had been drugging her with peace serum for a year. I can still hear her screams when I try to sleep."

"I think you're over exaggerating, Eric. It surely can't be-"

"Trust me, it is that bad. If you saw the crime scene, saw what it did to her, and what she was like at Erudite," I roll my jacket off and unlock my computer. "Not even the fear simulations would help you recognize from the sheet horror."

Max rolls his eyes while I write an email to Four requesting he keep a watchful eye over the Amity transfer.

My mind drifts, back to when I was only fourteen. The night had started off so peaceful. We didn't see the victim until the morning aftet she arrived. A poor child, dressed in the colors of autumn, strapped to a stretcher and left in a room encased in three metal walls and a fourth wall of glass. There was so much blood, I don't know if it was the child's or someone else's. Dr.Janey was a forensic crime scene investigator, so just as quickly as Dauntless wrangled the kid into Erudite, we left to view the crime scene in Amity.

A notification on my computer wakes me up from memory lane.

I never thought I'd see the day you would worry about someone else, let alone an initiate. I'm almost tempted to ask what happened with that kid to make you so anxious. I've never seen you scared and you looked like you saw a ghost.

Also, did you see that one Dauntless transfer who jumped last? I'm so thankful I don't have to teach him.

-Four

[scuddle-bubble101]

Give us some Hybridus fun facts? Pwease?

(Ahh our lovely blonde man. This'll be summarized as best as we can afford.)

Facts about Hybridus! (Enjoy sir, although I know you're not particularly fond of the spot light.)

. Twin brother to twin (Hybrid), Hybridus is considered the oldest by five minutes. Adopted and raised by Classic, the twins naturally got their first taste of the world through his lens. Classic wasn't perfect, but he tried to raise his boys as best as he could. If you asked Classic, he'd say he found them in the hole of a tree.

. In this aspect, Hybridus took more after his mom and uncle Papple (Classic's brother), even going as far to mimick the whole gimmick of a Papyrus even though in technical terms, he's not really one. He's "half of one", and it doesn't get any clearer to explain after that. With that being in mind, Hybridus kind a knew from the get-go that Classic wasn't his mom, and he never belonged in Classic's timeline. There wasn't any grown or sudden resentment of this... He just knew, and that's when the questioning kind a just, took off.

. Eventually when he hit his teens, the young Hybrid furthered his curiosity. Asking his mom over and over of where they come from? Why did he even take them? Was it necessary for him and his brother? Classic at first, was dismissive. The topic wasn't something he deemed necessary to share and every push met its fault this way. But Hybridus kept pushing and eventually, his mom cracked. He didn't expect to be told that he wasn't even founded by Classic but by an Ink whom found his timeline and notified him that it was doomed from the start. He learned his mom didn't find him and his brother because he wanted to, but because it was by pure accident. This fair and just, irritated Hybridus a tiny bit. Course, he couldn't quite fault Classic for what he did, there was no doubt the issue was easy, but he was still frustrated to find how quickly they dismissed his own home, then again... He never really understood his mom's odd job to begin with.

. With all these questions in mind, Hybridus grew up, thanked his parent and Uncle for their teachings and care and left. Straight up just left. He knew a little more magic thanks to Classic, so it wasn't hard to see what he was reaching for. This alone separated the twins for a good few years. Hybrid went on to take after Classic, learning more about the multiverse and its important and his brother? His brother wanted to reticify a past or well, discover it at least. He started right back to the beginning, back to the leads that pulled him to the past. And, what he found well, part of him wishes he hadn't.

. Hybridus stayed in his and Hybrid's dying timeline for a time, trying in what simple way to "salvage what was left" but it was hopeless, the means to help were for naught and just as Classic had warned him; His original home was doomed. It was miracle he stayed so long. Something about consistently trying to maintain some kind of normalcy when nothing was working. In hindsight, he should have left as his mother did, but something was keeping him there. Or more rather, someone.

. In his current stay, he met a little girl. A dirty little thing, barely alive, barely hanging on. He couldn't just leave her. She was too scared to trust him taking her away so, this became his new perspective. He named her Cub, she had animal characteristics after all! Cub and Hybridus remained here for a bit, he just wanted to make sure she'd be ok. She was just so tiny, and he didn't have the heart to leave her, even if this place was hopeless.

. Eventually, upon a (certain baby shower; The infamous event that had a lot of variants meeting eachother.) He met a friend, well a rather "haunting one at that." Whether it was his charisma, the undying curiosity his daughter had with them or literally anything else, he was suddenly in a place of trust where he was planning to help and restore this man's dying world. If you ask him, he still has no fucking clue how he did it but hey! He's apparently the God of life now, somehow... Oh star's his daughter was in his scarf when he was turned surely she's- Oh she's now a demigod... Great. That's swell, do not scream like a little girl, you are a grown man. He did anyways.

. Was not easy coming back to mom and brother and saying; Hey yeah! I've been gone for nearly ten years or so, sorry about that! Yeah I have a daughter now, and I'm apparently a God now that deals with keeping people alive, no pressure though! Yeah no, they did not take that well, Hybrid nearly punched his brother in the stomach. Fair though, Hybridus would have let him. Guess now they are both immortal yaaaaaay. He will never live this down.

. Oh yeah, years through God hood are much faster than regular multiversal years, he's married now and maaaaay have ACCIDENTALLY revived a whole DEAD timeline in the process. SIR HOW DO YOU KEEP FUMBLING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION!? What him? The cause of making a random trait human too? Naaaah couldn't be him... Couldn't (May have had help too with his brother and his brother's coworkers hahaha. Boy, you ain't slick)

. So devastating we know, he's not a natural blond, he dyes his hair that way. If you ask him why, he wiggles nervously.

---Picture added :D! Old but works X'D---

[mcgnagallsarmy]

Spuffy style Reading Challenge - #27: Monthly Key Word Reading Challenge #3

1st month - Secret, Heaven, True, House, Come, Only, Know, Winter:

A Wonderful Awful Idea by The Danish Bird [NC-17]

With nothing apocalyptic looming on the horizon and hoping to avoid a certain thick-headed commando, it seems like the perfect opportunity when Giles mentions a monster terrorising the good people of Lake Tahoe. What could be more merry than a Christmas trip to the mountains to investigate? The gang is all coming along, defanged vampire in tow. Buffy should totally be able to deal with the demon, ignore Spike and their recent “engagement,” enjoy some resort-town shopping, and be back with Mom on Christmas Eve. Right? What could possibly go wrong? Set in season 4 at the beginning of Doomed.

2nd month - Heir, Night, Bride, Down, Women, Hand, Teach, Guest:

Drive by Holly [NC-17]

Freshly turned and very grumpy about it, Buffy finds herself in a weird place. One where her friends smell like food, her former mortal enemy smells like heaven, and the so-called love of her life has made it clear that killing her is on his to-do list. Throw in some overly zealous army guys and this is not Buffy's idea of a party. So she and Spike decide to hit the road at least long enough to figure out why neither of them can hit anything else. And since they're both single and free, well, Buffy wouldn't say no to a distraction from the never-ending laugh riot that is her life. And Spike can be very, very distracting. Good thing soulless vampires can't fall in love or she might be in trouble.

3rd month - Story, Hunt, Plot, City, You, Cry, Another, Paint:

I Can Get Money by scratchmeout [NC-17]

Spike puts his past to good use to get money for Buffy. However, things become complicated when her ex shows up and targets Spike.

4th month - Darling, Funny, Familiar, Somewhere, List, Meet, Never, Word:

First Alternate by Soulburnt [NC-17]

After ‘Not Fade Away,’ Angel gets the Shanshu. A thrilled Buffy gets her curse-free soulmate. And Spike? He gets his heart shattered again. Gutted and seeing no point in staying in a world without his Slayer, Spike doesn’t hesitate when pursuing a deadly demon through a portal. He finds himself stuck in an alternate reality where he truly died closing the Hellmouth. He also finds another Buffy, one who is devastated that her Spike didn’t believe she loved him. They console each other over their losses… but are they only consolation prizes? Or can two heartbroken people get a second chance for love?

5th month - Library, Dark, Drown, Ex, Iron, Done, Love, Stranger:

If I'm Butter Than He's a Hot Knife by scratchmeout [NC-17]

Buffy meets a man at a bar on Valentine's Day.

6th month - Ink, Fragile, Road, Summer, Breath, Every, Push, Sorry:

Favor by EllieRose101 [NC-17]

Spike asks an impossible thing of Buffy––and is stunned when she says yes. Could he really have gone up in her estimation?

7th month - Mine, Again, Honey, Paradise, Still, Club, Train, Legend:

Eucharist by Holly [NC-17]

He had it all. The prophecy and the girl, merrily ever after and all that rot. But life doesn't stop.

8th month - School, Cut, Sky, Fate, Wing, Belong, Justice, Way:

The Time We Had by Dusty [NC-17]

She was there and then gone. All his life long.

9th month - Twice, World, Man, Quiet, Sweet, Hold, Shallow, Invisible:

Pardon My French by Girlytek [R]

In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to let Buffy perform a spell in French. Begins at No Place Like Home.

10th month - Vampire, Here, Mist, Death, One, Missing, Bite, Witch:

Sweet William by cawthraven [PG]

After the fall of Sunnydale, Buffy’s living in Boston and working as a waitress, grateful that here, not everyone knows her name. She’s free for once to be herself—and to grieve.

11th month - Spice, Life, Hello, Keep, Truly, Couple, Joy, Young:

Candy Corn Mischief by honeygirl51885 [NC-17]

Spike gets roped into taking Dawn trick-or-treating.

12th month - Snow, Season, Ice, Merry, White, Under, Mistletoe, Inn:

A Christmas Wish by all choseny [PG-13]

On one lonely Christmas Eve, Buffy makes a wish to a stranger and is given a glimpse of what might have been with Spike.

[space-woomy]

*throws pan at your head*

talk about it

please...

AUUUGH-

Okaysssssss Mooty

Basically the whole villain 4 stuff happens because Callie dies in Splat 2. Marie's low tide ink doesn't work, and agent 4 ends up using g the rainmaker, which really fucks up octavios robot...a bit too much... it explodes, and Callie ends up dieing in Fours arms.

Everyone's sad, and it hits Four the hardest. She believes that it's her fault entirely, and she quits the NSS. She eventually starts doing Grizzco jobs to distract herself. She realizes that "Ah fuck, this is like, genocide or whatever because this is a sentient species and all that." But continues anyways. She eventually makes her way up to the upperanks and meets Mr. Grizz (either through promotions or a some kinda coincidence or whatever). After a special interview, Grizz is like "wanna help me bring back Mammals? You seem like you hate the world." And Alex (4) is like "yeah. Yeah this world fucking sucks. We're obsessed with fashion, world ending threats happen every day, whole species is trapped underground, YOU'RE literally running a genocide company...fuck it, why not? I hate everyone." And they decide to help grizz with his mission.

O.E happens at the same time as this, and it plays out as it does in the games. Eight moves in with Alex, and she shows her around inkopolis and how to live in the city. Eight can practically taste all the nihilism and edge coming from her, but she sees the kindness and joy in her, and wants to pry it out of the shell of hopelessness.

Molly (3) also becomes friends with Alex, and gets a bit closer to her than 8 does. But the still has a shell up, and they still try to break through...

But before they can do that, the world tour happens! And she goes with Pearl and Marina. Alex also takes part in the memverse, with a piece of her soul getting trapped just like the game.

Now, return of the mammalians is going on, and it's all the same, except there is no Mr. Grizz...instead, there's a masked inkling that's at the top of the tower!!! Neo is able to hold them off until Cap (3) gets there, and they run away. In the end, they're able to stop the rocket from launching in the first place and they destroy it.

S.O starts more towards the end of ROTM, and ends well after it. And when 8 gets out, she can't find anyone belonging to the NSS. They've disappeared. She finds clues to go into the Grizzco headquarters. When she gets there, she finds Alex, having captured everyone in the NSS. Marie, Craig, Molly, and Neo are all tied up. Theyre all very bruised and beaten up too. There's also a big plush doll thing of Callie. Button eyes and everything.

Alex is fucking insane right now. They're all cocky and are acting like a typical Villain type. (Think Will Wood's "Main character" for this...thats...honestly what this entire thing spawned from...) and they fight eachother. There are MANY fuzzy octolings that they're fighting as well, and Alex is very dodgy and swift with fighting. It's revealed that their plan is to cover the world with fuzzy ooze with like, 12 rockets. The one in alterna was a test one.

Alex at this point has completely given up on everything, and thinks of herself as a "hero" in a twisted way. She's saving the world by destroying it, a big reset on everyone. Alex is all cocky and shit too, and is constantly talking and mocking them all. 8 eventually frees them all, but She's out if commission for a bit, and Molly steps up to take on Alex. Alex, frustrated with not being able to beat 8, has an idea. They basically Inject fuzzy ooze directly into herself, and gains claws, sharp teeth, heightend senses, she becomes digitigrade, and is stronger overall.

Now...there are 2 ways that this story goes........

""BAD"" ENDING

Molly and Alex fight, it's intense, and Molly is struggling. Alex is screaming and yelling shit like "YOU WERE ALWAYS THE BETTER AGENT WERENT YOU?!?! HUH!?!? LOOK AT YOU KNOW!!!! CANT EVEN STAND UP TO AN INFERIOUR AGENT" and "COME ON "LIVING TSUNAMI"! COME SPLAT ME!!!"

and Molly is like "...fuck dude...I really wish I talked to you more...man I Hate seeing you like this.. please...you were never the worst...why did this happen" in their head.

It ends up with Alex getting a chainsaw, and tackling Molly to the ground. She trys to push it into them, and manages to really fuck up their arm a bit, but Molly gets the strength to push it back...and gets Alex right in the neck...

She lives for a single second, with a smile on their face...and a single tear running down their face...

Molly and 8 now have double trauma. Yaaaaay!!!!!!!

Marie has even more trauma to!!!!!!

All of them do!!!!!

They stop grizzco, but they're not in that good of a mood for celebration...

(Also, I say "bad" ending because it's, like, a negative ending more like. A non-ideal ending really. I don't like "good" and "bad" endings or whatever...)

"GOOD" ENDING

Same shit happens, except Alex ends up breaking down more in the middle of the fight. She says more stuff that's more like her telling the truth about how she feels, instead of just taunting. At one point, Molly tackles her into a hug and says "Alex, it wasn't your fault! Inkopolis wouldve been attacked if you didn't stop them! Please! Callie wouldnt be mad at you!!!"

Alex breaks out, and they fight some more. Three's arm still gets fucked up, but Alex drops the chainsaw, and she dosent die!!! Yay :D!!!!!!

But she's got so much bottled up and fucked up trauma that they become physically ill afterwards. They beet grizz, and Fours recovery starts.

I've gotten all of this from Will Woods "Main character"

I keep imagining an animatic to the song where 8 and 4 fight with "main character"

And another one which is only the lyric portion of "Silly billy" from that hit single fnf mod. Those lyrics are F I R E

Thank you for hitting me with the pan AAAANDNSNFKFKKDNDNFBRBRNGLSLGJNRNSLALAKCNCNC. XBDJDJFJT9RIEIOEKSJELWLRJNFNFKVPXLABEBTKCKSNRNTJFHDHJFNFNFKGOGJVEAKFIJSHWMXNCNSHWI

If anyone has any questions, please ask!!!

[roseofithaca]

A Slip Through Worlds (Part 12)

With the truth finally out, Amy ( @idiotwithanipad 's oc) and Co. focus on getting both Silver's back to where they belong.

-

"What do you mean, Fizzy? Hehehe, of course I'm your Silver! Your best friend and fellow dragon rider, hehehe!" The bleeding girl grinned.

Robin also scoffed; "Yeah, what she say! Almost, not dragon bit. Who you think she be? Julian in mask and dress?"

"Ew, no, and fuck you for putting that image in my head." Amy seethed. "I mean she's obviously not our Silver! She must have got swapped with some Silver from another dimension!"

"What?"

The teen pinched the bridge of her nose; "Seriously, mate, I thought you were more into Sci Fi than me. You must have seen that Star Trek film! The one from nearly twenty years ago, with the two Spocks?"

"Oooh, pointy ear guy, long live prosper."

"Yeah, that, that's what she is!" Amy jabbed a finger towards the confused Silver.

Robin frowned; "Vulcan?"

"No! An alternate version! From a world like ours but where things happened different! A world where...our Silver turned blind and crazy when she died, apparently."

"Hey! Hehehe, I'm blind but not deaf, hehehe. 'Crazy' is an offensive term, I am mentally impaired and stuck in a permanant high, haha!"

"Sorry." Amy groaned with a roll of her eyes.

Robin looked at the girl he still had his arm around, peering at her up and down before he shook his head.

"No, no, that not be it. Me know Moonah Girl, would know if she not-."

"Have you smelled her since she woke up?" Amy challenged, "Dude, I'm half the bloodhound you are, and I could smell she weren't our Silv the first moment she glomped me."

"I..." He doesn't look too sure; "Well. No. Maybe not. Been told it rude."

Amy bit her lip and had to restrain herself from throttling the furry idiot.

"This ONE time you have permission!" She told him, tersely.

Robin continued to look uncertain. He moved his head near the base of Weird Silver's neck and sniffed. The blind girl didn't seem offended, merely giggled again as if she were being tickled. Another confirmation for Amy. Their Silver would have swatted the caveman on his nose with the whole of her palm..

When he raised his head back up, he looked as though his world had just collapsed.

"Believe me now?" Amy stressed.

Robin let go of the imposter and stepped back toward her old bed before flopping down to sit on the edge of the mattress.

"But...if she not..." He breathed, wind knocked out of his ancient chest, then looked up at Amy; "Where our Moonah Girl?!"

-

Crackle. Snap. No pop.

Not rice krispies, she thinks upon 'waking' (though she doubts that's what it truly is) in this new place. There are no fae lights floating around her, no Regency style orchestra playing nostalgic melodies. No sky above, just rock. Orange light illuminates the primitive drawings that decorate nearly every inch of the walls. Stick figures wielding spears, defeating mammoths and bears, dancing with smaller stick figures beneath a large circle hanging above.

All the images are freshly drawn, either carved or painted with blood or some crude 'ink'.

She sits up, taking a breath, relieved to hear no laughter or gossip of artificial party guests around her. Only the crackle of a large fire pit beside her, that's as warm and comfy as the furs wrapped around her. Silver runs her fingers along them, not missing the dresses she'd been gifted at all. Was this fox? Or wolf? Maybe both. Maybe something long extinct.

The only other sound is the rain outside. The mouth of the cave is far down on a slope. No risk of her getting damp. This was a home well chosen by whoever set up camp here.

Near the opening, barely visible against the dark of the forest outside, is the silhouette of a ragged man, sat on guard.

"Robin?" She calls, hopefully.

He turns his head. The light of the fire reveals his wounds and tree-like scars from the lightning strike.

Silver deflates a little. Of course.

"You're not him." She sits back, hugging the pelts around her.

He grunts.

Sorry to disappoint.

Silver looks up, blinking; "...Did you just speak?"

Another grunt.

No. No speak. Me think. You hear. Like Big Eyed Girl do.

Right. Silver nodded, understanding; "So...this is another of the witch's tricks?"

Not Robin shook his mane.

Not quite. She not bring you here. Me did. Not sure how.

He shrugged again.

Fell asleep. Saw Strange Girl trapped in loud party. Brought here. More quiet. Where I come when nap to get away from Noisy Cub.

Silver looked back at the walls, to the drawings. She ran her finger over one depicting a taller stick figure holding the hands of two smaller ones at his sides.

"This is your dream?"

With a nod, he grunted.

Yes. No mess anything up.

She smiled. There wasn't much in the way of 'furniture'. Bedrolls, ceremonial altars with skulls and other offerings, toys made from sticks and long grass, other stone tools. Still miles preferable to any fantasy luxury the witch could summon for her.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asked.

Another grunt as he looked away.

Strange Girl not stop crying. Thought quiet help. Did. Strange Girl no cry now. Me no have headache.

She smiled; "Thank you. That was sweet."

When he turned his head to growl at her, she flinched, shuffling closer to the fire.

Me not sweet! Me dangerous! Strange Girl no forget!

He snarled at her, curling his lips back.

Silver felt the smile creep back; "My bad. I was clearly right about you from the start. You have no heart. No feelings."

Another grunt as he nodded, content for that to be the agreement.

She tucked her knees in close before stretching her hand to soak in some of the fire's warmth. It would be a comfort, if not for the smell, that reminded her of what she might never see again. She sniffed.

Not Robin grunted.

Strange Girl start cry again?!

"No. I'm tired of crying." She sighed; "I'm just sad, okay. I dunno if I'll ever see my home again. My friends. My mum....my real mum..."

A rumble sounded from the caveman's throat.

After a long pause, he spoke again, to her mind.

Mistress ask if me want to see babies when visit here. She say she make seem real. Many time tempted. But say no. Not real. Not want.

Her heart panged for him. As she looked over, she saw he carried that same pain of loss that her own Robin did in his eyes.

Silver got up, tugging the pelts around her like a giant shawl and sitting closer to him.

"Did these belong to your kids?" She asked.

A grizzle. At first she was afraid that the question upset him too much to answer. Then he turned and poked the grey fur.

That Pin favorite. Always like wolf.

He then moved his finger to the spotted print.

Sol, he like leopard. Hard to find, harder to kill. Worth it to see smile. And fox...Kya love fox.

"Kya. Your second daughter." She spoke.

He met her eyes.

How Strange Girl know?

Silver smiled; "I told you. We're friends in that other world. You don't....find it easy to talk about your kids and I try not to push but...Kya was pretty special, right?"

All babies special. Kya just...most like me. Little idiot.

A twitch appeared in the corner of that crooked mouth, and for a second he looked like her Robin.

She wanted to hug him but....given all those wounds close to his neck, she doubted that would be comfy for him.

"Thank you, Rogh. For sharing their furs with me." She said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

He flinched at first, looking ready to push her away or growl in defense, but then surprised when she pulled back so quick.

Looking adorably confused, he reached up to stroke his own cheek.

Strange Girl welcome. Sorry....Mistress make cry. She no mean to.

Silver cringed as she turned away, looking towards the trees.

"Excuse me if I don't forgive her for trapping me."

She only do what she think right. She not monster. She Mum.

"Not my mum. And she never will be." Silver gulps, "I don't care if she keeps me here for a thousand years. I'll never stop trying to get home."

The caveman dips his head before rubbing at his own chest. Is that remorse that she spots on his face?

"Do you think they'd be happy with you? If they saw you now? Scratch that, I can confirm they are watching, if the after-afterlife here is anything like my world." Silver presses.

She reaches for his paw and presses it against the fox pelt.

"D'you think they'd be proud of their dad? Helping keep a girl away from her real family?"

The haggard face winces and Not Robin pulls his hand away. With a growl, he gets up and moves on his knuckles further from her.

Go back to fire, Strange Girl. Rest. Enjoy quiet before Sister arrives.

-

"Okay...me think I get it now." Robin sighed once Stompy had finished her explanation.

Moonah Girl raised her hand.

"I'm still a bit lost, hehehe. How many Spider-Mans are there again?" She asked.

"Too many, but that wasn't the point!" Amy groaned, feeling like a school teacher stuck with the two most dense students to deal with; "To sum up, there are infinite universes and infinite versions of us all. The Silvers obviously got switched at the big freaky wall."

"Ooh, you mean the window? Hahaha, where I had a dance with that funny girl and then she disappeared."

Both Amy and Robin stared at her.

"Funny girl? What funny girl?" The hoodie wearing teen asked.

"The one who knocked on the window, hehehe. I pushed and found her hands, we twirled around, then she was gone! Poof! Haha. And then I woke up and Robin found me!"

He tried not to flinch as the girl reached for his hand. Her touch made him feel ill now, where moments ago he'd welcomed it, relieved to be someone that Moonah Girl trusted again. Back when she was Moonah Girl.

Amy frowned as she seemed to put all the pieces together quicker than he could. It was still a shock for him to realise the girl he'd been devoting every minute of care to for the past three nights hadn't been who he thought.

"Right....so that must have been how it happened. Two Silvers touched each other and that, for some reason, let them go through the wall? Weird. But at least we know how to fix all this."

"We do?" Robin asked.

"Keep up, dummy! We just need to get this Silver back to the wall, hope our Silver can be there at the same time and swap them back." She said, making it sound so easy.

The bleeding girl holding onto him gasped.

"Wait! You're saying, hehehe, that I can go home? I can see Mummy and my Amy? They're not gone forever?!" She bounced in her seat on the duvet.

Amy nodded; "That's what I'm hoping, yeah."

"Oh that is wonderful!" She squealed and then threw her arms around Robin's neck; "Did you hear that, fluffy friend?! I can have Mummy back!"

"Uh, yeah...Sorry me told you she gone. That just Mu...This world Silver's mum." He said, looking to Amy for a nod of clarification that he got that right.

Not Silver just giggled more; "Oh that's okay! It's always good news to hear your mum isn't gone forever, hehehe. Oh but....Wait. The Silver who lived here has no Mummy? Or Fizzy Girl? That's so sad! Hahaha."

"Yeah, you really sound broken up about it." Amy frowned, impatient.

"Sorry, hehehe, I can't help it! Hahaha, I laugh even when I'm sad or bored or even screaming, hahaha."

"Oh." Amy looked horrified at that thought; "Okay, that...does sound awful."

"It sucks balls, hahaha!" The girl wiped a tear from her eyes as she cackled, ceaselessly; "Oh, poor other Silver. She must be so lonely."

"Well don't feel that sorry for her." Amy frowned, a little defensive; "She still has me, I ain't chopped liver! I visit her dreams when I can and bring messages from her mum. And she'll see her again, someday."

"Oh, that's nice." The teen calmed. "And I guess she has all the nice ghosts here like your daddy, Mr Patrick, Kitty and Sweet Robin, of course! Hehehe. She's so lucky to have you as a friend." Silver hugged his furry sleeve.

Robin gulped, avoiding Amy's knowing gaze. Yeah. So lucky.

"You still have mum in your world? She no go up to stars?" He said, looking at her, then to Stompy; "That good then! Moonah Girl safe with other Mary. She take care of her." That was some relief, surely.

Amy frowned; "She didn't look safe to me. If that dream we both had was Silver then she looked like she was in deep shit!"

"But that's silly, hehehe." Other Silver kicked her boots; "Mummy is the nicest, most magical and beautiful woman ever! She'd never hurt anyone...who was innocent..."

The twitch in the teen's neck as she finished that sentence made them both go cold.

"Innocent? What d'you mean?" Asked Amy.

"Oh nothing, hahaha. Just that Mummy can sometimes be a teensy winsy bit overprotective when it comes to me, haha."

"Overprotective how?"

"The usual stuff! Giving me a strict curfew, not wanting me to leave the forest alone...." Silver listed off her fingers, casually; "Burns anyone to a crisp who looks at me funny, all that stuff!"

Robin's eyes widened, as did Amy's. He suddenly remembered some of the other things about 'Mummy' that the girl had mentioned over the past few days that sounded like a very extreme version of their Mary.

"You sure she wouldn't harm our Silver then? Even if maybe she thought she might be to blame for you being gone?" Amy pressed further, clenching her jaw.

"Well....Hehehe...She might be a little bit tense..." Even the girl didn't seem as though she could fully convince herself the other Silver might not be in danger.

Amy and Robin exchanged looks again. His chest tightened as he recalled the image that had flashed in his mind from that awful nightmare.

Moonah Girl's eyes so big. So scared.

"Right. We have to fix this." Amy stated, resolute; "I should be able to take that Silver with me while she's asleep and follow the trace back to the wall."

"Then what? Just wait? How long for?" Robin asked.

"Ooh, I'll call for Mummy! She'll come find me and bring the other me, I'm sure of it." The Pagan bounced again.

"The mad hippie might be right." Said Amy, surprised; "Our Silver called my name in that dream. She sent it out all the way to me and I was able to follow it back. This one might be able to do the same but to her Mary."

Robin got to his feet; "Then me come too!"

She nodded; "Good. Was gonna drag you along anyway. In case I need backup."

Fear thrummed through his body along with a surge of territorial protectiveness. He hadn't felt anything like that since the time men from a rival tribe attempted to steal some of their babies. Not even his, he hadn't had any at then, only eleven himself. But even then, he had the instinct to do whatever it took to keep Tribe safe.

"Yay! I'm going home! I'm gonna see Mummy and Fizzy and Floof and all my dragons again! Haha!" The other Silver began to skip and dance around.

Amy lunged to grab the girl's wrist; "Hey! Harley Quinn! This isn't a game, okay?! All of this is mostly your fault, so you need to do your part and make sure this goes to plan!"

The blind girl's bottom lip stuck out, like a child being told off.

Robin tried to part the two.

"Go easy, Stompy, she not know what she do." He said, unable to stop feeling a sense of care for this Moonah Girl too, after all the time he'd spent with her.

"I don't give a flying fuck. You didn't see or hear her as clearly as I did!" Amy said, referring back to the dream; "My friend is trapped and she called out to me to save her! Nothing else matters except getting our Silver home! Got it?!"

He nodded. Of course, he agreed, guilt burning in his throat like poison again.

Amy stepped back; "Wait here. Don't wake up, not if you wanna come with us."

"Where you go?"

"To see Mary." She said, heading towards the door; "If we mess this up, then she at least needs to know where her daughter really is. Once I'm back, we'll head for the wall."

-

The words sound too fantastical for Mary at first, once young Amy has finished explaining it all to her. References to various movies and books flew over her head and so Amy used mirrors as an analogy instead.

They sat in the kitchen of her and Annie's cottage, two untouched cups of tea and three empty bright blue cans of Monster on the wooden table.

"So....Mirror Me has my little'en...and our Robin has the mirror Silver?" The larger woman frowned.

Amy cracked open her fourth can.

"That's the gist of it. Except the mirror seems to be all...broken and smudged like someone took a cricket bat to it." She swigged down a load of the fruity liquid; "It's why the mirror version of you that you saw in the dream weren't your best side, Mary."

Mary's hand flung up to her mouth as she recalled the expression on her darling girl's face. Those bony hands wrapped tight around her wrist.

Annie rubbed her back.

"Don't ye think yous had enough there, child?" She said to Amy as she swallowed her drink.

"Trust me. I'm gonna need another three or four to get me to that wall. Especially if that flaming bitch shows her face. No offence." The girl's eyes met Mary's.

"None be taken, little'en." She said, quietly; "If I could get my hands on that shadow o' mine, she be....Oh, is there no way wes can come join you and Robin?!"

Amy shook her head and got to her feet.

"Not unless you both learn how to astral project really fucking fast."

The married women exchanged dubious looks. Both seemed regretful they hadn't attempted to practice the skill during their time here. It was hardly something to be acquired overnight.

And they had to act now. Enough time had been wasted. But Mary understood why Amy had taken the opportunity to tell her the truth. Silver would have wanted her to know, rather than for the other one to arrive and believe wrongly that it was her daughter.

Fighting back tears, Mary wasn't sure what was worse. Her daughter having a self-destructive mental breakdown or still being sane but trapped with some demon version of herself?

Either way, her baby was lost. And there was sod all she could do to help bring her home.

"Don't worry." Amy squeezed Mary's hand on the table. "I'll get her back. Or fucking obliterate myself trying."

[mothmandibles]

👁️ 💙⚡ PINK FROM WET COMIC

⚡ 💭 ✨ MAXIM FROM FORP

THIS got. Very Long i put it under the readmore.

👁️ - How do other people perceive this oc? How close do their first assumptions come to the truth?

off the top of my head i actually dont know. i cant believe but i dont really know what The People think of Ink. i wanna say people perceive them as very blunt . straightfowards. a bit silly from this. And i'd say thats right . ink is very forwards with how theyre feeling about things at the moment and far more Act NowThink Never . "because im soooo awesome. thinking is for NERDS!"

💙 - Describe their bedroom! Is it personalized, unchanged? Messy, neat?

(grimly looks off into distance as this prompts me to think about how i wanna redraw the whole prologue so i can better show off ink's bedroom considering what little we saw in comic is Not Accurate.)

ahem. this is to say, Jesus Christ ink has a Lot of "stuff" they keep around very messy. they share a room though so the chaos is (as best as they can manage) restrained to their half of the room.

the "stuff" is mainly trinkets and whatever they've either found outside (e.g. cool rocks, sticks), made (as practice, but they're not allowed to have weapons so its usually just random stuff they thought "i could make that" and then did), or belongs to them (clothes.) (there's not really anything seperating clean clothes from dirty. they're just. all around. doesn'tmatter. shes wearing outdoor shoes inside and sleeps in her outside clothes because why put on pjamas if youre just gonna have to puton the outside clothes again TCH!) . ... tl;dr messy room 1 billion things everywhere on her half of the room.

⚡ - Does this oc have any unusual or “irrational” fears?

white women angels new found fear of knives and other sharp objects "I would never be scared of anything because i could just beat it up who cares. and also if i WAS itd be very . RATIONAL!!" - Ink Wise Words.

& for maxim "forp" . this word scares me i dont know how to feel about shortening fearcorp to that. anyways

⚡ - Does this oc have any unusual or “irrational” fears?

Honestly no Maxim is very rational and would not be scared of whatever. I mean this so nicely to them because i love them dearly but i think Maxim lacks the imagination to even have things to imagine that would be scary. I don't think they're even scared of normal things to be afraid of.

💭 - How is their mental health? Do they struggle with guilt or shame?

this feels really funny to say but maxim is actually doing pretty good. they're extremely normal . until fearcorp happens , which just makes them feel very stressed and worried about Angelina specifically because they're very scared something bad will happen to it , be it from someone else, or it does to itself . (they dont really feel worried for their own well being because... its the strangest thing, really, but they just have this sense of Knowing that they're not really in any danger. They won't die here, like this. but that they don't feel that sure about Angelina, well..)

so no in general maxim doesn't have any problems with their mental health . fearcorp exception due to being literally the most nightmare event anyone in that story has gone through. live laugh love.

✨ - Tell something that makes this oc feel happy!

learning . learning about anything at all, maxim fucking looooooooves that shit so much they're a huge nerd there is no such thing as too much knowing to them, too many details, they love the process of learning, of having their view of the world get expanded by now knowing new shit about it. feed them infinite knowledge they will be so happy...

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bendy and the dark revival part 4

Thonks

And Joey's in the thumbnail.

Oh boy.

.

Insert giant fuck you ink spider thingy.

I hate this...so much.

.

Fear shows your true nature

Yeah it shows your a basic bitch with a god complex.

... The fact this could be applied to multiple people in this series says a lot.

.

Alice!

Audery where are you

Looks at the corpses of spider ink things... You don't wanna know.

Yay Alice is coming.

Dunno how she got where we were with the description of "It's dark" but she's smart.

.

Ahhh!!! Baby bendy is back.

Poor lil guy he looks scared.

I won't hurt you bud I'm not Wilson.

... And he ran off :(

.

... And Joey's... Ghost is here?

What is happening right now?

I believe there's something special in all of us.

Why I think we can even conquer death itself

Especially you Audery

Nevermind I thought I had the line but nope.

Who are you?

Audery I get it's been a long long day but... He's been mentioned literally everywhere and you know, he's your boss. Or old boss now.

Don't you know me? Take a good look.

Ghost Joey and his magical lantern.

Joey drew in the flesh, well so to speak.

Ghost!

Come on up, let's take a look. There's something I wanna show you.

Remember when Alice told us not to move...

But sure no let's go follow the ghost of capitalism himself.

It's a cycle Audery. An ink stained nightmare forever stuck on repeat.

The cycle... The time loop?

The loop Henry is stuck in... We're in that loop here 2?

With just a pencil and a dream and a little help from the Gent Corporation, it came to being.

From what I gather it exists in parallel to the outside world. Completely removed from the match of time.

And like a record, it played over and over again.

So when Wilson had us put the items on the altars?

We got pulled into this parallel world stuck on a loop?

Man fuck that guy.

It's begun to crumble, wear down.

This studio is a monument to choosing the wrong road.

You were always pushing me, pushing me to do the right thing.

You should've pushed a little harder.

Now whether it was built for revenge or regret, I don't know. That's my riddle to solve.

I think it's a bit of both.

... So not everything here was created by Joey. Or more accurately weren't created by those in his studio.

The worst ones call themselves keepers, dangerous deadly folks.

Can't be worse than Wilson.

Trying to bring what they call order into this world.

... Wait is Wilson a keeper?

Freezing the cycle in place! Changing the script.

... Like saying the ink demon is dead when he's not.

Look, above all never forget your here for a reason Audery.

Damn you minimum wage job and your creepy keeper janitors.

Because I'm not the man, I'm just the memory.

Am I sympathising with Joey Drew?

Huh.

... And his grave is here...with candles and a bendy plushi... Okay than.

Same dates 1901-1971 and just a pencil and a dream on the wall.

.

Baby bendy!

And he ran off again...is it cos of us?

.

Lord Amok rules

No idea what that means... But the skull spider isn't comforting.

.

So they really did try and link a Gent Corporation building to the studio.

.

Giant skull spider drawn on the wall

... Nope... Nope.

.

Within our isolated walls, Lord Amok reigns. The drip drops of the leaking world above cannot stop his rule.

Those who oppose Amok's hand have their bodies crushed and fed into narrow pipes that lead into forgotten sewers under our feet.

Those tunnels are even deeper, their even darker than this one. There is only suffering down there.

But should anyone defeat Lord Amok, cast him fiwn into our small kingdom will belong to the conquerer. This is the secret of Amok's immortality.

Pass on the throne pass on the name.

... What... Who is this Lord Amok?

Is is the fuck you spider eye ink thingy? Is that why the skull spider is drawn everywhere?

Is it Wilson?

What is happening? Why is there another cult down here???

Love how Lord Amok works by Spartacus rules.

.

... Nevermind found him.

On a lil throne 2 how fancy.

Doesn't even say hi and tries to kill me, what an ass.

Hes got spider legs coming out his head... Looks like Hela's head thing in Thor Ragnarok.

All hail the new Amok

So... Audrey's the new Lord Amok now, that's cool.

Quite the succession stategy.

🤣.... What is happening...

Is she gonna get the spider legs in the head thing?

.

I see your mind as the truth unfolds

Hey ink demon.

Is my mind confused? Cos it's confused.

You will accept your fate before the end.

Well apparently there is no end and I already accepted working minimum wage for a company that charges $15 for it's coffee sooo...

Can't be worse than that.

Unless my fate involves Wilson in any way.

Than fuck that.

.

A city built on broken dreams

Woah...

I thought this world was just the studio but apparently not.

There's a whole city here?

How big is this place?

Your saying what im thinking Audery.

Oh hey Baby Bendy.

Awh he has a lil sleeping hat.

Where did you come from?

I'm guessing the ink, unless you mean right now than idk.

Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to hurt you. And I really don't think you want to hurt me either, right?

He's just rubbing his lil eyes, aww sleepy guy.

Baby bendy shakes head.

Aww

Good, let's be friends than. What do you say, you and me?

Oml yess I wanna befriend the baby.

Awesome

Whoop!

Ohh he don't like the sound of the Gent building.

... Same honestly.

Achievement noise, Baby Bendy has joined your party.

And here starts chapter 4, Factory of horrors

.... Lovely.

.

Man there really is a city... And Wilson just.. Controls all of this?

.. Looks pretty empty, and there's a crashed car.

.

It's kind of creepy in here

Truest thing I've ever heard Audery.

Looks at Boris plushi on the chair 👀 stop itttt

.

And ghost Joey is back.

You haven't gotten far

Well jeez Joey, I'm not one of your workers you can annoy into working harder.

... Well not anymore.

How did you get in here

... He's a ghost Audery.

I see you have your father's, never quit, go-getter spirit.

Her father?

Oh now you know my father?well newsflash! I didn't even know my father...or my mother... or any of my family.

Awh hun.

So her father worked here too?? If that's how Joey knows hin.

Please god tell me he isn't Wilson.

You've chosen to forget the past.

You can't forget what you don't know Joey.

I can understand that.

Says the ghost of a man's memories.

There's something I wanna show you.

... Get back Joseph!

Alright Joey I'm here

... Henry?!

Let's see if we can find what you wanted me to see.

... Are we replaying the end of the last game??? Cos he said that than.

But... No we weren't here.

This won't take long.

The 425(?)loops say otherwise.. pal.

And back to Audery we go still in the old studio(?)

There's a little story you need to here.

Oo boy what now.

Once upon a time, Audery. There was a bitter old man.

And shocker it was Joey.

Who had lost just about everything. The real Joey Drew.

Called it!

He blamed everyone but himself for his mistakes. But mostly he blamed his old buisness partner for abandoning their work years and years ago.

Never thought ghost Joey would be this introspective.

But than. He's got nothing but time.

A man by the name of Henry Stein. A great artist and a good friend.

Which you stuck him in a time loop for.

In his anger, Joey used an evil machine to create another world.

A world made of paper and ink. Where he'd torment his own version of Henry forevermore.

Yup, 425 loops...and God knows how much by now.

But one day a miracle happened.

An angel came into Joey's life.

Susie or Allison?

A young woman by the name of Allison Pendal. She didn't visit often, but when she did. She saw something good in Joey, no one else could.

Including himself.

... So you trapped her in here 2?

Through their friendship. He began to see the world with better eyes.

So one day in his cartoon cycle of hatred. He gave Henry an angel of his own.

To guide him when things were dark. To always provide hope.

... And that's why Allison is the one to help him.

And Audery.

It's honestly sweet that Joey saw someone who made such a positive impact on his life and wanted Henry to have that too.

Showing he did care for him and realised his mistakes.

... Granted Henry was still trapped so there's that but giving him a light in the darkness was pretty good of Joey.

It was than, Joey decided to make something new.

Please not an animatronic.

Something he had always wanted, but could never have:

A family.

But not a cartoon one.

Something real. And after many many tries, he made something that made him happier than he ever could have imagined.

A wonderful loving daughter.

... Oh...

Bright and kind.

Almost human.

He created you Audery.

.

.

... So Joey, Joey is Audery's father.

I'm flesh and blood

No offence hun but you are covered in ink.

And absorbing it.

... So.. Audery Drew...

Ghost Joey said real, so by that I guess he meant with the ink machine?

Child of darkness...

Just because we're born in darkness doesn't mean we belong to it. We're always free to choose.

Okay, kingdom hearts.

Don't blame her tho, this is insane.

... But did Archgate know this??? Did Nathan? .. I mean, hiring your dead friends child is something.

.

Attention children of the machine

Fuck off Wilson!

And wheres Baby Bendy??

The feeble uprising in Lost Harbour has been ended by the keepers.

Oh boy.... But that means there's possible allies.

We are safe once again from the treason of the Cyclebreakers.

Fitting, in every sense of the word.

The keepers are watching.

Okay, big brother. Also confirmation he's a Keeper.

Didn't they want to break the cycle? Well freeze and destroy it?? Idk.

I'll never claim to understand Wilson.

In more important news, where's Baby Bendy?

.

Aaand the ink demons here... Great.

And Audery can't move.

.... Oh...

The ink demon and Baby Bendy are the same.

I know that shouldn't be surprising but... Damn.

Wonder if coming here set him off, he didn't want to come here.

.

Archie carter tape talking about how Gent Corp was asking for research subjects, how death here is like a way of life.

So they didn't stop at employees.

.

Wait Wilson created the Keepers? He isn't just one, he created one?

Can you take me to him?

..do we have too can we just...not?

Man I'd they deem us dangerous they'd have had a field day with Susie Alice.

Toxic fumes activated

Still better than seeing Wilson.

Was gonna question how they'd get toxic fumes here... But it's what the 70's?Couldn't have been hard to find.

Thought they'd have pumped em thro the vent... But apparently not? That was stupid.

But I'm not giving em tips on how to effectively kill us.

[the-haunted-office]

As the researcher of the Parables Unsolved team, it's Nextday's responsibility to- well, to research things. She has a fondness for reading and learning about things. It's certainly more interesting and far less annoying than real, actual people, in her opinion.

This black void, though... She doesn't know what to make of it. She tried to look up information about such things online, only to yield information about black holes in space. This isn't what she's looking at, though. She's pretty sure of that, although she has never actually seen a black hole. A real black hole wouldn't be so plainly visible like this. Plus there's the fact that she and all the others would already be dead by now, unless Cyrus and Aurora had anything to do with it, which they don't.

There's nothing else she can find on such a thing, though. It looks just like a roundish black spot floating in the air, wavering towards the outer edge like heat distortion on hot pavement. The fact that it's growing is as curious as it is interesting. It is now larger than a doorway, and soon it will start to cut through the ceiling and floor, disintegrating them into nothing.

It's an uncomfortable thing to witness for sure, especially when it touches something living, like Thisday's face. None of them had known at the time what this thing was capable of, and of course they had to find out the hard way. At least Thisday was able to respawn, unharmed save for his understandable wariness of the void now.

No one else wanted anything to do with it either. It seemed to exude a sense of unease - which isn't altogether surprising, considering what it's capable of. It's not like this is some little dandelion growing through the cracks of someone's driveway, harmlessly reclaiming its place in the world. This thing can kill, and there doesn't seem to be anything that can be done about it. Nextday can't tell if that sense of uneasiness is being produced by its invincibility, deadly properties, or some other kind of wavelength.

Whatever it is, it's definitely not spilling its secrets.

Nextday is watching it now, watching the way the distortion along the edges rolls outwards before dissipating, like it's reaching out, feeling around for where to spread to next. It would almost be pretty, if it weren't so deadly.

Something about it makes her think of Steven. She sighs. Not him again. He is the last person she wants to be thinking about. Him and Sherry and Caleb and... the rest of them. Everybody. They're all long gone now, but the pain of their departures is like a meteorite on her heart, leaving a gouge that can't really be filled or soothed. Sure, the burn of it has dulled over time, but the crater is still there. She can feel it there every day.

The sneers, the hitting, the failures, being used, dumped, dropped, shit on, made to feel like she belonged only to learn that she was never a part of them, could never be a part of them, moving on, not moving on.

Her head spins with it. She doesn't want to feel this way. She doesn't want to think about it. She wants to just move on and forget-

The black void suddenly moves. Not so much moves, but expands, its event horizon pulsing outwards and claiming several more inches around its perimeter. It doesn't make a single sound as it brushes up against the floor and ceiling, removing the areas it has touched with a cool fluidity, like spilled ink.

Nextday suddenly decides that she doesn't want to be anywhere near this thing anymore. Not right now. Not ever again. Backing out of the doorway, she retreats back to her room, to where she doesn't have to see this thing, doesn't have to acknowledge it.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

[comicavalcade]

Submariner Summer 29

Hola hola, todo bien? Lets do #SubmarinerSummer part 29, Tales to Astonish #95: The POWER Of The Plunderer! Got Banner/Hulk and the High Evolutionary on the cover. Go Go Go HULK! Also, Marvel really loves using "A World He Never Made" as a title or tag line

On the Title page, we catch up with Namor and Dorma still on their way back to Atlantis. And apparently, there's a new underwater city that's popped up! Popped down? A *surfacer* city (eww)! Got Thomas and Raymond Marais on script, and Mr. Everett himself still on art, here inked by Colletta

Namor is angry at the unmitigated gall of coming to Atlantean territory and just setting up a city...a colony, if you will. Full of white people. 😒

Dorma tries to be the voice of peace...but Namor knows what those people mean when they say peace.

Namor demands to speak to their leader, but, well, the guards don't actually seem all that interested in talk or peace, actually. But surfacers forever undestimate Namor, so *that* doesn't go well for them.

Can you imagine being that far underwater and mouthing off to the Namor??? When Namor then moves to leave, the surfacer leader finally shows up

The weird sub belongs to the surfacer leader, Dr. Walter Newell (1st appearance; note it!). He tries to tell Namor the guards weren't really hostile (🙄), and acknowledges he set up his city in Namor's domain, telling him he's there to...take his resources for the surface world 😬😬😬

Wait, it gets better. When Namor asks why Atlantis should get robbed, Newell replies: the surfacers will definitely offer trade for the natural resources! 😱 Bro literally trying the blankets and beads bit on Atlantis. 💀 Namor though isn't having it, and leaves, rejoining Lady Dorma, when a new player arrives

Its The Plunderer, a Ka-Zar villain, and true to his name he demands the city surrender and be plundered. Newell tries to intervene in his craft, but it goes terribly wrong, and his city's dome is cracked, the water rushing in. Namor is philosophical, but aloof. Let 'em drown.

But then Plunderer starts attacking escape-craft. This makes Namor angry; it is, after all, his turf Plunderer is war crime-ing in. So he attacks Plunderer's sub, and gets let inside.

Plunderer tries to shoot Namor with his fancy vibra-gun but Namor is too fast for him and makes him pay. However, Plunderer's men are after Dorma, which distracts him long enough for Plunderer to get a shot in

Dorma gets caught in the current of water rushing through the dome and into the city. She's almost crushed, but Newell saves her. Plunderer tosses Namor out of his sub when he realizes he survived the vibro-gun, and he gets to work living up to his name plundering the city

Namor sees that Newell saved Dorma, and takes her back, expressing gratitude but telling the surfacer to let her go and get lost in no uncertain terms. He takes Dorma to the depths, while Newell gets a ship to rescue his people. Then Namor vows to get Plunderer for what he did after taking Dorma back to Atlantis

So ends this issue, a high action story with a real Silver Age sci-fi vibe in the designs, especially with the subs. This was quite the first appearance for Newell, who we haven't seen the last of and was clearly written to be sympathetic, but wow the colonialism runs deep.

Be that as it may NEXT Submariner hunts the Plunderer and on the way swims into his past in Tales to Astonish #96: Somewhere Stands...Skull Island!

[starfall-spirit]

A Court of Twisted Wisdom

SJMNGW Prompt: Crossover

Summary: See ACOTW Masterlist

Chapter XV: Another One Lost

Roxanna

A bit late for reading, isn't it, Princess?

"Good evening, Clotho. I was hoping I could have some time down here to research. Perhaps find something to—" I sighed, choking on the last words.

The priestess rested a gnarled hand over mine. Your aunt and brother have requested time here to do the same. Yesterday and the day before. A few of the priestesses have taken it upon themselves to help as well. If Ayla is alive, she will be found.

I swallowed. "Aunt Nesta's scrying was hopeless. They're starting to consider... The Night Court holds the Dread Trove. The harp... Do you think there are other methods to crossing worlds? Would the priestesses know a book with theories, even?"

I'd call that prediction a stretch, if I hadn't seen the type of trouble your family tends to get into. She pulled something from behind her desk. As vast as this place is, the other priestesses and myself know a book out of place. These appeared on one of the new priestess' carts this morning. I haven't had the time to glance at more than a few pages, and they may be stray works of fiction, but if you truly believe your cousin has crossed realms then this may be the set for you. They had to have appeared with good reason, didn't they? The set doesn't belong to the library. You may take it with you if you wish.

"Thank you, Clotho. This means a lot to me."

You're very welcome, Princess.

"You don't have to call me that." I had been pushing that point for years.

Good night, Roxanna.

A spark of hope filled me and it took everything in me not to start reading right then. Snuggled into my bed a few moments later, I looked over the pair of books. They didn't seem to need to be read in a specific order. They were simply an old set that coordinated. Bound in worn brown leather, the books showed only basic map outlines and names above them. Erilea, the first said. Not so much as a pseudonym accompanied the bold-lettered title. Opening the book to hopefully find some sort of table of contents I found only blank pages.

"What use was giving me these?" But the pages began filling themselves, ink colored and black rolling over the pages to show the history of this other world. The pages moved on their own and moving images-a story-many stories played out in the air above me. The stories of gods I'd never heard of and their journeys, passing down gifts and blessings to the fae and mortals of their world. Gods had turned mortal, creating the roots of great family trees. A millennia of history put to paper. Families of Fenharrow, Adarlan, Terrasen. Other chapters spoke of witches and their once-cursed kingdom. Their cruel ancestors who brought an impossible war upon that realm. And I was sucked into their battle.

A wounded soldier fell through me as if I were mist. Still in my thin pajamas, no weapon in hand, no magic in my veins I was a wraith on the battlefield. There to observe. To learn. And just like that I was out of the fray, collapsing to the floor and interrupting what seemed to be a pleasant family meal, a few of those apparent war heroes gathered around a table. The second that fold of space and time opened the group was on it's feet, magic flickering to life. "Um, hi." A screech from the far end of the table met my ears and I was being tackled in a hug before I could even stand. Her scent hit me first. Ayla. She let out a sob, squeezing me tight. "By the Mother, Ayla, we've been worried sick!"

"I know. I've been trying to figure this out. I want to go home more than anything, believe me. But you figured it out. You can take me back."

"I—" I whirled around, looking for the book. "No. No, where's that damn book?"

A well tattooed silver-haired male cleared his throat. "Ayla, care to introduce us to your friend?"

"My cousin, Roxanna." She sniffled, keeping an arm around me. "We're really more like sisters. Rox, this is Rowan, Aelin, Aedion, Lysandra, and Orlon."

I nodded, now finding the names and faces recognizable. "You're the royal family." I stated, eyeing the Galathynius trio. Ayla raised a brow, surprised by my knowledge of the family. "Clotho gave me a set of books. I opened one on Erilea and saw a bunch of history and then was brought here. This is Terrasen, right?"

She nodded. "Those are the wings I saw," Orlon said. "In the dream. On you, Ayla."

The both of us tensed and a wariness filled the prince. "Yes," Ayla bit out, the single word almost venomous. Oh, there was something going on there. "I told you I had them. I told you I don't show them off when I don't know people well. I'm getting to know all of you and you've all be hospitable, but recent events... The only reason Rox has them out is because she can't hide them. Now, if you'll excuse us... Want to go train?" she asked. "Talk about the goings-on back home?" I nodded, yelping as something dull stabbed into my side. A wickedly gleeful laugh burst from my cousin that I could only relate to one thing. Weapons. Her swords, left behind in our world, had appeared in a double sheath at her waist. The other's around us looked a bit uneasy at the sound of that laugh and her giddy clapping when my training gear and blades appeared. She threw me a wink. "First blood wins."

"Gods help us," Rowan muttered. "She's like you, Aelin."

"What gods, Rowan?"

~~~~~

Orlon

She was a force of nature. And she hadn't shown her cards yesterday. She'd bested me far more easily than I realized. Because moving with her cousin... They were a whirlwind, driving into each other and pulling back just shy of a killing blow, tunneling in with that calm focus to keep their minds set in the fight as they threw out pointers to each other with warning strikes to unguarded body parts with a foot or the flat of their blade. And just like that, when Ayla finally lost her balance by pitching her weight too far her secret was revealed. Those wings, identical to her cousin.

"You're too reliant on them for a half-breed, cousin. Off balance so easily," Roxanna teased.

The sleek, clawed wings snapped open, exposing brutal scarring to the lower membrane. I didn't notice Aedion beside me until he let out a low whistle. "No wonder she was so defensive about them."

Recent events, she'd admitted. Recent events built her walls when it came to those stunning wings. The grimace on her face told me she was well aware of her audience and the exposure was unintentional. Instinctual, to hold her ground in the fight. But she didn't hide them away again, merely sending out a bit of magic to repair her torn shirt, hiding that hint of tattoo I'd gotten a glimpse of. With a jerk of her head she sheathed her blades and gave a hard flap, rising off the ground and throwing a quip I couldn't hear to Roxanna. The second girl smirked, soaring up past her cousin and starting what seemed to be a race. She had those horrid scars too

"What do you think happened to them?"

"She said over dinner Illyrians are backwards in their thinking. I imagine they were two young women targeted somewhere and overpowered. She said her father is a respected general. Speaking as his equivalent, my priority has always been to protect my family. There are a lot of people, citizens and soldiers, who were leveraged over me. Do yourself a favor and stop prying, kid."

Previous | Next

~~~~~

Tag List: Comment/ask/message me to be added or removed.

@sjmnextgenweek // @goddess-aelin // @the-lonelybarricade // @shallyne // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @faeriequeensuriel

[agentcalypso]

Fic Masterpost

art/OC masterpost can be found here

I EXPECT YOU TO DIE: ESPRIT DE CORPS

Operation: Air Lift - Phoenix finally has a new mission, but...where's Earpiece?

Operation: Out of Order (CONTENT WARNING: VIOLENCE)- A surprise attack during a mission sends Phoenix and Handler reeling.

The Spy or The Liar? - Phoenix finds someone in the woods. Things get...interesting.

halloween time >:) - (CONTENT WARNING: BLOOD/VIOLENCE)- It's halloween in the EOD. Shenanigans ensue.

JUST DANCE

breathe faster to waste oxygen (CONTENT WARNING: NIGHTMARES, POSSESSION)- A midnight text from Scotty has Bec concerned for her friend.

I EXPECT YOU TO DIE - OTHER

where you go, i'm going (there is no me without you) - Agent Phoenix is MIA, and Delilah Elwood has to pick up the pieces her sibling left behind.

To her, the legendary Phoenix was Frankie, her older sibling that never left her side, plain and simple. But after the Peacemaker incident, she and her mother are barely allowed to speak about them.

When Delilah is cleaning out Frankie’s apartment, she runs into Director Simmons, Frankie’s resentful old boss. Simmons has heard very positive things about Delilah. She wishes to hire her to the Enhanced Operatives Division, & Delilah jumps at the opportunity.

With the new job comes secrets, allies, and the discovery that Frankie may not be dead after all. Now, with the help of Frankie’s old handler, Delilah is left with only one option: take her sibling’s place and rescue them. But Zoraxis is a beast that is not so easily satiated, and The Doctor has a new target on Delilah’s head…

I EXPECT YOU TO DIE x RIDE THE CYCLONE

No Soul, No Name - Jane feels lost. Mason helps.

URINETOWN

welcome to my life (it plays out just like a true crime) (CONTENT WARNING: GORE)- But it was impossible. Barrel had to keep reminding himself it wasn’t him. It. Was. Impossible. There was no way he was seeing the boy he’d sent to Urinetown not even two hours ago.

Or: Bobby haunts the narrative, both figuratively and literally. It doesn't end well for Barrel.

BENDY

kicking, screaming, sinking slowly - What I think the first "incident" in the Ink Fumes AU would be like. Wally suffers a bit :(

ZELDA

Wandering No More: The Great Calamity, As Told By Kali Taamu - Recently, the diary of Kali Taamu, a citizen of Hyrule during The Great Calamity and my late grandmother, was found. This diary shows a first-person perspective, fresh and not foggy with age, of the tragedy. This is that account.

PAPER MARIO

Refolded: The Beginning - We all know the story by now. Two siblings, torn apart by the actions of their father. In a rage, one swore to reinvent the world, while the other opposed her twin and helped to save it. Both died. Olivia and Olly. The Origami siblings.

But what if.....What if the craftsman hadn't been so foolish? What if he didn't write his message? What if Olly hadn't become King Olly, the Origami Overlord? What if he'd stayed as just Olly? What if the origami festival had gone on? But what if, somehow, things had still gone wrong? This is that story.

Refolded: Whispering Woods - The aftermath of the attack. Nobody has a good time.

Refolded: The Soul Seed - Olly gets jumpscared and does a favor.

SONIC x FNAF

Keep Moving - As Miles reached the end of the vent, he dropped down onto a conveniently placed mat in the main hallway of Superstar Row. As he looked around at the various objects on display while making his way toward Sonic's green room, an automated voice played over the PA system.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for visiting, and we hope you enjoyed! Sonic and the rest of the Glamrock Gang are pretty tired, but they'll be back again soon! Please make your way to the exit, and make sure you have all your belongings and your entire party with you." Then, in a very speedy tone, "16-Bit Entertainment is not responsible for stolen private property."

BENDY - OC x CANON

did you quake when you saw what's really at play? - Old memories don't often stay buried forever. Or: Or: The Dark Revival trailer grabbed me by the throat and demanded I make content for my years-old AU. This was the result.

SLY COOPER

sly cooper if it was a movie because hollywood is a bunch of cowards - Let's revisit Sly's origin story, shall we? Or: What I think would be the prologue/opening of a Sly Cooper movie; a retelling of the flashback cutscene of Sly 1. Written in screenplay/script format.