#and also her birthday is in summer and she's named after a flower that blooms in the summer and has the blonde hair most of us give natsu

[blushblushbear]

heyoo! I got a crazy idea to ask about.

what if Marshmellow was a reincarnation of Natsu? 👀 how would the three kits react and if they would still love them?

Oh man-- this is a tricky one.

I really think a lot of it comes down to what their relationship was like with Natsu before hand.

So obviously I have my own bias, I have my own version of the way things all played out in my head, but it DOES seem to be the general consensus that Natsu's relationship with everyone was-- at least at one point-- positive.

But the biggest aspects of it all really are going to come down to the nature of those relationships (for instance, your version of Natsu and Fuyu have a father/son dynamic that I can't imagine not getting weir after everything starts to click and marshmallow starts to remember things lol)

but for the sake of argument let's go down two routes--

route 1 is going to be the relationship with everyone was good and positive but not necessarily overly familiar (as non-overly familiar as what is essentially powerful immortal co-workers your stuck with for hundreds of years goes) so basically they know him but no body's like--- DATING or anything

and then route 2 is, regardless of whether or not they were actually dating before hand, there was a closeness there that bordered on the romantic or there was just sparks their otherwise

Also for the sake of all this this isn't like--- a second Natsu. This is not Natsu 2 electric boogaloo, they just have the same spirit and energy about them but Marshmallow is DEF their own individual

So-- all of them, at one point or another, thought it at least once while getting to know you.

'They remind me so much of Natsu.'

And this thought-- it was always a bitter sweet mix of wistful and mourning.

They always chalked it up to a quintessence. In all their years, all 3 have known too many people to not know that some people are just alike. That they have the same energy and way of going through the world. Kindred spirits, and such.

But then comes a time, and the details are ultimately superfluous to the revelation that follows, where it's confirmed that you share the spirit of Natsu quite literally. Through some twist of fate, they have all met and have fallen for Natsu's reincarnation.

And what happens next-- well...

Aki;

Route 1: Aki is actually a little excited to hear that you were a kistune in another life. And even more excited that the summer clan has hope to come back. I think he jokes a bit that you're Natsu (like he calls you Natsu for a bit), but ultimately he knows you're you. And he loves that you. And whatever you decide to do with this new information, he intends to stay by your side. Just, maybe keep your distance from Fuyu...

Route 2: He's actually a weird mix of excitedly relieved and panicked confliction. On the one hand it's very sweet that his first loves soul made it's way back to him and he fell in love with that spirit all over again. But on the other, he was sure he'd finally gotten over that heartbreak, and now that it's all back on his door step he's sort of realizing that whoever you are, either now or before, he never really got over you. One thing is for certain though, Aki just got a whole lot more protective. He's not going through that loss again. And he's DEFINITELY keeping you away from Fuyu.

Haru;

Route 1: He finds it a bit darkly hilarious. Can't keep the spirit of the summer clan down I guess. He wonders a bit if he'd be this resilient if he were in your shoes. Regardless, he is legitimately revealing in the fact that Fuyu's biggest dramatic act of power is being undercut by one lone mortal. This should knock that pompous asshole off his stuck up high horse. Also he has to admit, it is pretty sweet how he was so appealing your spirit just couldn't stay away. ;3 (also if Fuyu thinks he's coming near you he has another thing coming.)

Route 2: He still finds it funny you're undermining Fuyu by existing, and he still finds it romantic that your immortal souls just couldn't stay apart, but he's a lot more worried about what all this means. He's also processing how-- he was definitely heart broken when Natsu died, but they were never anything too deep (at least not yet), so he could mourn and then move on. And he thought he had moved on to you, and he did, but now with this complication, made all the more messy by the fact that he's in so much deeper than he's ever been before-- he's almost certain losing you this time would kill him. He's got a lot of thinking to do... mostly about how you get rid of any winter foxes that may darken your door...

Fuyu; (OH BOY)

Route 1: He is SO. UTTERLY. CONFLICTED. On the one hand your very existence undermines his biggest display of power and magnitude that he has ever managed to accomplish. Not to mention the fact that the spirit of the summer clan lives in you means that they may return-- and they may return in force? Can he do that all again? Can he wipe out the summer clan a second time? No. He couldn't... even if he was physically capable, he no longer has the heart to do so. The amount of regret that weighed on his heart since that day-- it's a weight he couldn't carry again... if for no other reason that you had lifted it off his shoulders. After holding onto it so desperately for so long, after centuries of convincing himself he was ultimately in the right because to be otherwise would make him a monster, he had doubled down. He had become the worst possible version of himself, trying to convince himself that the ends justified the means. But you helped him heal. You helped him move on from the bitterness that he allowed himself to stew in. Helped him cope with the grief he had only himself to blame. Helped him to feel warmth for the first time in who knows how long. After you opened his eyes, he finally felt like himself again. And yet here you were-- standing before him, once again in innocent defiance. But maybe that is why you were here. Maybe this was fate. Maybe this was your way of returning to him to show him true mercy. Forgiveness.

Or maybe this is just another way to torment him. All his love poured into you. And yet any love you give to him feels so undeserved. Maybe he doesn't deserve this forgiveness. This happiness. This relief. Your smile.

Maybe he has a lot to think about...

Route 2: Once he found out, his eyes were locked on you. In a way, his biggest regret had come back to haunt him. His grief had been given human form and came to be his salvation. And as the pieces fall into place he realized how undeserving he is of this all. He drops to his knees in an instant, tears streaming down his face and he heaves out shouted apologies between sobs. His head on the ground before you, begging forgiveness he knows he will never deserve. He can't look at you in the eyes... You were all he had ever wanted, but how is he going to face you...

[lookclike]

a bit of earth...

task: an early memory at woodrow house when: 1988, shortly after eliza's 8th birthday

on her eighth birthday, eliza got an assortment of things: a summer dress and accessories for her samantha doll, a stuffed rabbit, various vhs tapes of disney movies. the most inconspicuous was perhaps a copy of the secret garden, bound in green cloth with golden detailing. as things tend to go when you’re a little girl, it immediately filled eliza’s mind with ideas about old abandoned victorian manors and beautiful gardens. when waiting for a robin to show up outside and guide her to a magical hidden place didn’t work out, she decided to content herself with the next best thing: her own little garden.

she could probably just claim a small part of woodrow’s gardens as her own. no one would care much about that or bother her. in fact, mrs. tristan would probably be happy if she was contained within a smaller part of the propriety. but eliza wanted to make things in the right way, and such she marched into richard’s office with all the determination of the world. 

“might i have a bit of earth?” she asked richard, who immediately laughed at the quote taken verbatim from the book. eliza frowned. it was quite a serious request.

“you can have as much earth as you want… but maybe we should ask mr. davis for some help?” that would be good, eliza supposed. the secret garden filled her with enough excitement, but no actual tips on how to garden. 

“may i grow roses?”

“and whatever else you’d like.”

“may i have a piece of candy now?” the amusement in richard’s eyes as he gave her a piece of toffee was clear even for a child.

that’s how eliza found herself deep in dirt the next day, helping mr. davis dig holes with a child sized trowel. 

“now, most flowers are best planted during autumn, but we can still seed some stuff right now. marigolds, primroses, pansies-”

“and roses too?” asked eliza excitedly. mr. davis laughed good-naturedly.

“yes, roses too. though they may not bloom the way they would later in the year.”

eliza barely heard the warning, already dropping seeds in their respective holes and humming a song. she wrote the names of each flower in little plaques with the loopsides writing of a primary schooler, doodling little representations of them.

mrs. tritan’s mouth was a tight line when she saw eliza in the entry hall covered head to toe in dirt, her pastel yellow overalls almost brown. “i’m growing roses.” she said proudly and the woman sighed.

“i suppose that some manual work outside is good for you.”

eliza spent the rest of that summer focused singularly on the small patch of earth that she thought of as her garden, watering, weeding or just observing very carefully, as if she would one day see the flowers erupting from the ground magically. in a couple of weeks, there were some small green plants emerging. in a couple more, a shy combination of yellows, purples and pinks. one day, eliza took a polaroid camera to the garden (that probably belonged to one of her older siblings) and took a dozen pictures of her flowers to display proudly in her room. there was just one problem…

“no roses.” she said morosely to mr. davis as he taught her how to identify what is a weed and what is a flower. he simply smiled at her.

“just give it time.”

eliza gave it as much time as a child is able to - three more weeks, just one week before school was set to start again and her time would not be spent entirely on the garden anymore. by then, the entire gardening project seemed hopeless. why have any garden at all if she couldn’t grow roses, the one plant every proper garden seemed to have? that night, instead of going to dinner, eliza hid outside, petulant and childish and heartbroken over what seemed like a lost summer. 

the sun had already set down when richard found her by the swings, tear streaked face staring into the pond.

“you know, my mother also loved roses.” said richard, sitting by the second swing. eliza didn’t acknowledge him, though her frowned deepend a bit more. “she was a very good gardener, but i don’t think that’s why her flowers always grew impossibly tall and beautiful. it was because she loved them, and because she loved this place, as much as you do. just let things grow in their own time, lizzie.”

she sniffed loudly, and threw herself at richard muttering little sorries and let’s go home now.

that night, richard was the one who put eliza to bed, turning on the bedside table’s lampshade and pulling out the green book wordlessly before he started reading it. "a bit of earth," he said to himself, and mary thought that somehow she must have reminded him of something. when he stopped and spoke to her his dark eyes looked almost soft and kind. "you can have as much earth as you want," he said. "you remind me of some one else who loved the earth and things that grow…” 

eliza fell asleep quickly, though something about the story falling from richard’s lips tugged at her tiny heart. in her dreams, she saw herself as mary lennox, crying in archibald's arms, in a garden not unlike that of woodrow. you remind me of someone else who loved the earth… 

[sixminutestoriesblog]

morning glory and aster flowers

"The Michaelmas daisies, among dead weeds, Bloom for St Michael's valorous deeds…"

if you're like @royal-ossa than September is your birth month! Which means you get two flowers. Both morning glory and aster make an appearance during this late summer, early fall time of year and, if its your birthday and you're anything like your flowers, its safe to say that pollinators love you. Both the morning glory and the aster flowers have big fans when it comes to butterflies, bees and hummingbirds, especially the late blooming aster that continues to flower long after most other pollen giving plants have closed up shop for the year. Both flowers are also associated with hours of the day, with morning glories opening their flower petals to catch the first rays of the sunrise and asters being literally named after stars for their resemblance to their nighttime mirrored partners in the dark sky. Both flowers are also associated with love, with the morning glory representing unrequited or fleeting love while the sturdy aster represents enduring and patient love. So let's jump in and talk plants.

Did you know that the morning glory comes from the same family as the sweet potato? The hint is in their large, dark, heart-shaped leaves. While some morning glory have edible leaves, others are highly poisonous, with some of them even going so far as to have seeds laced with LSA which, if ingested in large enough amounts, can have similar effects to LSD. With flowers that sometimes only last a day, Chinese view the morning glory as representing a single day for lovers to meet. Two sweethearts, the story goes, were so enamored with each other that they forgot everything else, including their duties. In response, the gods separated them, except for one day of the year when they were allowed to meet. The flowers only lasting a day is also a reason the morning glory symbolizes unrequited love, though like many vines, it can also represent enduring love as well. In Japan, morning glory are sometimes a gift between young lovers. Busy not living up to their names, some morning glory plants actually bloom at night with some claiming those are the most fragrant of all. Be careful when planting morning glory though! They can easily outgrow their original plot and start to take over the rest of the garden. Morning glory are considered the flower that signifies the eleventh year of a marriage.

While morning glory have been busy sweeping up all the modern - well, glory, the aster has much deeper roots. Named after the Greek titan-goddess Asteria, the flowers were said to have formed when she wept at how few stars there were left in the sky. Her falling tears dropped to earth and sprung up as flowers that mimicked her lost stars above. The little flowers have been giving ever since, used in the past in folk remedies for skin infections, muscle pain, colds and headaches. Burning their leaves was supposed to drive away snakes and bad luck. Asters are sometimes called 'Michaelmas daisies' because they are one of the last flowers to bloom, often still alive and vibrant among the otherwise dead plants of the garden on St. Michael's feast day, a day which marks the calendar shift to autumn. In Victorian England, the aster was seen as representing charm and daintiness. The Aster Revolution in Hungary that took place in October 1918 was so called because many of the protestors wore aster flowers in their hats, which at the time were a symbol for valor and the fallen soldiers for WWI. Aster are also considered the 20th wedding anniversary flower.

[midorishinji]

Blue

Satoru Gojo woke up crying that cold November morning. He swallowed back his tears just as he swallowed the three words he wished he had said in Suguru's final moments, in that alleyway in Shinjuku. "To you, who blooms and scatters like transient flowers, goodbye”

Satosugu ｜Oneshot｜Also published in Portuguese and on AO3

Satoru Gojo dreams of faces that torment him every night. He stops sleeping, eventually; the faces remain even when he is awake, now in his peripheral vision, eternally present. Riko Amanai watches him with the same sad eyes he remembers from their visit to the aquarium, but there is a peculiar hole in her forehead, a trickle of blood running down her nose. Misato Kuroi is always covered in blood, paler than death. And Suguru Geto is smiling, like that fateful day in Shinjuku, when he said that he could never be happy in a world like that.

The day Toji Fushiguro murdered Riko, something inside him died, Satoru concluded. Nothing was ever the same again, and he wasn't the only one who thought so. Shoko gradually had less and less free time, her hands stitching pieces of bodies back into place and putting life into them again, at the cost of her own energy, of her own life, increasingly deeper dark circles and a face that showed how each miracle performed ripped away another piece of herself, and that maybe one day there would be nothing left to take from. Nanami was never the same after he saw Haibara Yu pass under his responsibility: he abandoned, for a while, his career as a sorcerer because he could no longer bear to see the mountain of bodies of his companions that piled up day after day. Suguru stopped being his moral compass when he murdered an entire village of non-sorcerers.

Satoru Gojo was sleeping restlessly, as usual. This time, he dreamed of a world where he had defeated Toji Fushiguro and stopped the Time Vessel Association from completing their goal. Riko was alive, and never got to merge with Master Tengen, who achieved stability despite this setback: she would be an adult now; she had completed college and, in this reality, had just had her first child, a baby girl named Sachiko — “miracle child.” Misato became her legal guardian until she came of age, and cried the happiest tears of her existence when she saw Riko back in her arms, still a fragile child, on that day when she should have merged with Master Tengen. Nanami and Haibara were waiting for him at a bar for drinks that Friday night, to celebrate Nanami's birthday. Other guests included Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko, who had fewer dark circles under her eyes and a smile that seemed genuine rather than hollow.

Another person was also waiting for him at the bar. Suguru Geto never killed those people, never abandoned his past, his ethics, his life. He was still the same Suguru who was horrified when Gojo suggested killing all the damn members of the Time Vessel Association when they recovered Riko Amanai's body. Sometimes Satoru thought about how he should have — how he wished he had — killed all those miserable excuses of human beings; it would have been as easy as snapping his fingers, and it wouldn't have made any difference in the grand scheme of things. Maybe that would have made a difference in how things turned out. Maybe not. It didn't matter in that alternative reality, in that dream: Riko Amanai was alive, and happy.

The Satoru of his dream took a long sip from his glass of beer, laughing at one of Haibara's misadventures on the most recent mission he faced. His eyes met Geto's, a talent he had for always finding him in a crowd, and Suguru smiled. When the two returned home, the cicadas sang, filling the cold summer night; in his dreams, it was always summer, like the eternal youth of his Jujutsu High days. The sky was still clear, the setting sun threatening to turn the blue into orange. The glass buildings in the Shibuya region reflected blue, dyeing everything the same color, the color he had always associated with Geto.

The two walked in silence. There were so many unspoken words — in that dream and in reality — that Satoru couldn't express them, the bitter taste of goodbye always stuck in his throat, words unspoken and swallowed desperately; it was the terrible taste of the curses that Geto swallowed, which he did not share with anyone else.

Suguru smiled at him, and there was no anguish or pain behind his smile. — We will meet again, won't we?

Satoru Gojo woke up crying that cold November morning. He needed to blink a few times to dispel the vision of blood on his hands, Geto's blood, which he would never be able to wash off completely. He swallowed back his tears just as he swallowed the three words he wished he had said in Suguru's final moments, in that alleyway in Shinjuku.

[mvrrow]

;; EDEN SHEPHERD — AS TOLD.

[ laura harrier, cis woman, she/her ] - was that eden shepherd i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the thirty one year old who has been in nightrest for on and off throughout her life and works as the owner of ada's antiques has a reputation of being softhearted, but also evasive. they reside in ashmore & people in town usually associate them with collapsing beneath the sun; the rays of light dancing off your damp skin, wild honey with its tendency to stick to everything it touches, and handmade quilts sewn together by bittersweet nostalgia. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next. [ james, 24, they/them, est, n/a ]

MENTIONS OF MEDICAL CONDITIONS (ASTHMA), CHILDHOOD ILLNESS, INFERTILITY, A BRIEF PANIC ATTACK, AND A BRIEF FAMILIAL DEATH BEYOND THIS POINT.

profile.

full name: eden beatrice shepherd.

birthday: september 4th, 1991.

astrology: virgo sun, cancer moon, sagittarius ascending.

sexuality: bisexual.

currently listening to: simulation swarm by big thief.

current mood: afraid 😱

current location: [[[cannot be found]]]

last tweet: ...im pretty sure i just found a box of vintage sex toys in the basement. thanks grandma! #scarred

PINTEREST.

history.

grows up in a tiny commune off asbury grove, surrounded by nothing but woods; it's her mother, her father, and their entire gaggle of children. eden's not the first, nor would she be the last.

it's a good community - holistic, and the kids are homeschooled - but it's a good community. tightknit, everyone helps everyone and nobody is left abandoned. eden spends her days learning about the life cycle of insects and birds, what it means to die; the lifespan of trees and the evils of deforestation.

MEDICAL CONDITION / CHILDHOOD ILLNESS; eden's first asthma attack is sudden and sharp; a breathlessness she's never felt before, a new fear fresh in her six year old body. the body remembers its trauma - and even now, she can still feel that ache from her first attack. it's a downwards, upwards, and all around sideways spiral after then - combined with a weak immune system, she's quick to sicken. pneumonia and bronchitis, as soon as the flowers bloom.

the commune is great, and it's her home - but they can't provide the help she needs, not anymore; her grandmother, ada, takes her in - only for summers at first, just so she can get the treatment she needs at the local hospital, still near family.

she falls in love with nightrest quickly - has never seen the beach before then, doesn't know the joys yet of crystal clear waters - can only admire how the ocean stretches beyond the horizon. she loves her grandmother too - she's her favorite, after all - and they spend almost all their time together, manning ada's antique shop. ada teaches eden to knit, to sew - how to put a nail through wood, the sweet taste of their fruits of labor. how to be independent, how to be reliable. how to live.

her childhood and teenhood is split between the commune and nightrest; split between two worlds, but after spending summer after summer in the small town - eden and her grandmother send in a scholarship application for wardwell. she's always excelled in school - their homeschooling regime surprisingly strict, more advanced than she would've been otherwise - but it's still a surprise when eden's actually accepted into the private institute.

her courses aren't as hard as she thought they'd be, much less a worry than the student population; whispers of her being the weird commune girl - the girl who walks the town barefoot, middle of the night - nightgown blowing against the wind. she's a witch, they whisper. schoolyard taunts making up for years of missed elementary teasing. eden never pays them much mind - head always held high, eyes always cast down upon those who look at her the wrong way.

the one thing eden finds, is that attention finds her. whether it's curious interest or purposeful distaste, or a deeper temptation - she entertains it, bathes in it; her reputation goes from witch to whore, and all she does is smile.

high school comes and goes, and so do all the rumors - their weight heavy on her shoulders towards the latter years; but university is different. after consoling her grandmother, then her parents, then half the commune - insisting her health is in perfect condition - eden packs up and heads to boston university.

she majors in bioengineering - it's an umbrella of all the things she cares about; healthcare, and agriculture - energy and sustainability. gets through all four years and half of her masters program before meeting the love of her life.

andrew dyers puts all her worries at ease with just the sound of his voice. his peace is hers; he's her voice of reason, when her thoughts scatter her. she puts her masters degree on pause, just to travel the world with him. leaves everything she's ever known, because all she wants is to be by his side. it's scary - eden's asthma's improved little by little throughout the years, and she doesn't get as sick nearly as often - but he's always stood by her. even during their fights - storming off in the middle of european cities, cold shoulders and silent treatments - he's never left her side.

when he proposes - it's the happiest eden's ever been. marriage was once a distant thought - and now she's trying on wedding dresses, tasting cakes - picking out her perfect venue, all the way in greece.

INFERTILITY; it's partially a routine visit, and partially eden preparing for their future together in advance - when she finds out the news. she can't have children - at least not of her own, not from her. not with drew. and her world collapses before her, her dreams and pinterest boards crumbling down.

she keeps the news from drew - doesn't want to confront it, doesn't want to think of it - she knows that he'd still love her, still want to be with her; but her mind's a jumble of thoughts - there's too much to plan, and the back of her mind starts voicing doubts.

PANIC ATTACK / ASTHMA; the day of the wedding is the culmination of her every doubt, her every fear - she has a panic attack for the first time in her life, triggers her asthma - is practically glued to her inhaler. everything is too much for her, the future suddenly so unclear - her worries finally shattering her. and she runs. she abandons her wedding - abandons drew - and gets on the nearest flight back to massachusetts.

her grandmother welcomes her back with open arms - listens to her, cries with her - and nightrest is where eden stays. it's coincidental, but ada's health's declining and it's the perfect time for eden to stay around the house, to care for her. it's also her excuse, in a way - as awful as it feels.

FAMILIAL DEATH; that was almost two years ago; with ada's recent passing, eden inherits not only her grandmother's antique business, but her house as well - a given, considering ada's business was out of her home.

suddenly a business & homeowner - eden's been busy managing ada's financial affairs, fixing her books - refurbishing and restoring her victorian home in all its glory. it's not the life eden had expected - or particularly wanted, at first. but she feels happier now, compared to when she first ran away.

traits.

ASTHMA; first thing's first she's an asthma girlie<3 has that inhaler ON HER at all times. her asthma attacks aren't that often or as bad anymore bt u never know. she's kind of scared of them #scarredforlife

rly kind n will go out of her way to help others whether it's with tasks or with advice or literally. anything. is the type to cook u chicken soup if u say u have a sneeze.

at the same time though she's pretty closed off when it comes to her own personal problems or Deep Feelings. a little repressed.

it's a mix of being overlooked by her parents as a middle kid, sometimes - to being fussed over too much, when she was sick. to being talked about in high school, and just plain being stubborn.

personable when it comes to others like she knows ur favorite color, ur big three zodiacs, and what u did last summer.

DIY queen she does everything herself because why spend money when u can do it urself. does not stop

her grandmother's house-slash-antique shop is like a very old victorian that her grandmother snagged right when the family moved to nightrest. it's her family home before her dad joined the commune w her mom so there's a lot of history there n it makes eden feel. comforted idk

the ground floor is pretty much just all antique shit. almost a hoarder's situation to the point where eden's been going through pieces and seeing what's even valuable / worth selling. the only semi-cleared space is the kitchen n bathroom but otherwise eden stays upstairs.

she has a doberman named daisy mae because when murders first started happening in the town eden said<3 absolutely not. n got herself a guard dog. she's trained her very well n she's very proud of it.

also a little bit emotional support bc eden is like. a bit all over the place. a little highstrung, at times, i'd say.

she hides it very well bc she makes lists and pinterest boards n has a Need to Plan everything to the T but when things stop going her way or she feels like she's losing control she like unravels a bit into a mess of anxiety. #anxiousqueen

is a bit. broke admittedly. ran through her savings when taking care of her grandmother n is just hoping that the business will be enough to get her by. if needed she can fall back on her degree but her passion's a bit. misplaced atm

bet ur ass she kept every single piece of designer that drew bought her throughout their relationship. she feels immense guilt about the entire runaway bride thing but these items r sentimental ok. they're kinda comforting. even though eden's in the wrong. let her be delulu.

has not been in a committed relationship since drew. he was her only serious one tbh. big fan of hookups n the concept of friends w benefits, even moreso one night stands. nobody is allowed to sleep in the same bed as her, she'll probably sneak out when they're asleep if its not at her place.

definitely a bit of an overthinker. she has to analyze everything.

will be honest with u. will try to be nice about it, without sugar-coating it. will speak her thoughts if she has to.

holds a grudge like a motherfucker. she's hard to anger, and already has too much patience for others - but when u get on her bad side, ur there for life. queen of passive aggressive comments and never letting it go. will bring it up in conversation n acknowledgement will not satiate her.

has mastered the silent treatment. she goes so silent when she's upset n thats how u know u've fucked up.

i think thats all! truthfully idk if any of this will be true when i actually write her so!<3

relationships.

childhood friends, from when she spent her summers in nightrest to when she moved for school. people who've known her since high school.

consistent friends who've been by her side for years n have supported her on the sidelines

people who were like wtf? when she just ran away from her wedding bc that probably got her on some shit lists even if they didn't know drew personally. bc eden definitely didn't tell anyone why.

enemies<3 moreso from when they were younger probably but like i said. eden holds a grudge of a lifetime. she'll be like i know u called me a whore in 11th grade because ur boyfriend liked staring at my tits more than looking at even just ur face. n thats not my problem i hope u got the help u needed. sounds like it was traumatic.

hookups obv. one night stands n friends w benefits n people who like get that she doesn't need anything serious rn and never has.

unrequited crushes mostly on her but sometimes<3 her heart does things<3 n she is susceptible to a pretty face on occasion.

please let her be the unofficial aunt to ur muses' children she loves kids so much n gets along w them so well

college friends!! people who knew her as this like <3 passionate science nerd n is just like ? this isnt bioengineering ? standing in her shop

shop patrons <3 please fund eden's life. the store is nice i promise. just a little old.

neighbors i love a civil small talk that isnt about murder. people who've known ada growing up themselves n have their own funny little stories abt ada bc she was a bit like<3 eccentric i think.

but also actually a close friend group wld be nice? like a best friend or somebody she can tell her secrets to <3 give me like the one person who knows she's infertile. let her traumadump!!!

[sweetchildcloud]

Some poems that I wrote property of @sweetchildcloud !!!

WARNING CONTAINS:BLOOD,ANGST,VENT,DEATH apart for the 4° one

1°:

REGRET:

"I remember the moment I met you, you were there with the sun kissing your hazel hair, you were so vulnerable too, I don't know why I didn't intervene maybe because I was entranced by your beauty or because I hadn't noticed but now that you're sleeping holding in your hand the first gift I gave you on your birthday, you had such a big smile that made me feel insecure, I wanted to smile like you, I felt safe with you, you made the problems disappear for me I had

Now that I hear it, I feel selfish

If only I hadn't opened my mouth, if only I wouldn't have let you go, if only I'd told you how I felt, how sorry I was

Now I'm talking to a lifeless you devoid of that smile you had, I'm sorry I should have known that you were like me, that you felt the same about me, but I didn't understand it and now you're gone forever and I will forever remain with this remorse and with the only memory of you I remember the moment I met you, you were there with the sun kissing your hazel hair."

2°:

A CALMING CALL

Time passes

Life is short

It seems to me yesterday that we ran in the white meadows of the farm free as the wind, we laughed, with open arms to capture the something non-existent but that for us was there that only we could see, we didn't care the time that passed or our mother calling us for dinner and I was late making her angry

but she certainly couldn't see you, because of her you had gone away on that rainy day carried away by the voices you told me you heard every day but that I didn't hear I only heard our mother screaming your name in despair but you went into that thick forest bewitched by the voices, now that I'm in our little meadow no longer white I hear them, sister, the voices.. they are calling me they are docile like mothers who call their children but I also hear like another voice.. it's sad.. she's calling me...no no I can't I have to follow them and see you again like the last time you went into that dense forest

I feel it and like a cold hand that welcomes you after all the journey you've been on, was it like that for you too, my little sister? Is that why you never turn to look at me? I understand you I'm tired, I'm getting closer and closer, that sad voice is gone, silence, a pure silence of welcome .. now I see you .. you are lying in our no longer white meadow where we ran free like the wind

3°:

A FOX TO A RABBIT or SOFT BITE

This starry night is like the sky in your eyes, why don't you look at me? why don't you answer me? you are angry? is it because I bit you? even though I apologized? I smell blood and I'm scared, I'm scared I lost you forever, please look at me and jump away like always and I run after you to play but you're scared and ask for help but I don't understand I just wanted to play, it was my mistake I didn't want to feel the sharp canines, my mouth drooling and the instinct ... oh how can I not forget it :"kill, kill it" it whispered all over my body and I suddenly became hungry and began to increase the speed of my paws on the soft wet dirt and like a second I was suddenly with a starry night like the sky in your eyes

4°:

FRIENDLY SNOW

Oh how white you are, you are so simple and yet you fascinate so many people, children who play snow angels and in the meantime you make jokes by taking their colored hats and hiding them inside you that soft you where the animals hide and perhaps seeing those clothes so little ones they take them and wear them because even if you are so soft you are certainly not hot but cold as ice but you are also very weak in fact you can melt and destroy a child's dream in the form of a little house but after your departure you leave the place for your sister spring who consoles the crying child with her scents of flowers and newly blooming buds that will sparkle under the summer sunlight

5°{this is self insert}

I DESPISE YOU. YET I LET YOU LIVE

It's not you, it's not you, it's not you that smiley person who has a normal life, I hate you, I hate you so much, you lie everyday with that fake smile, I know it, oh god I know, I stare at you every day, every moment, when you hurt yourself, when you cry, why do you do this? why do you leave people who talk to you in that rude, cruel way, but you smile, they beat you, they bully you, but you smile with that fake smile but you are like me sad alone, full of hate that you don't pour on anyone but only on yourself and for that I hate you, I hate you so much I want to choke you and end this farce you call life

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

not a (surprise) date

story page | talk to me/join the tag list | the playlist

wc: 4k+ of birthday celebrations

PART 6

Mid-May was hotter than expected. The leaves that canopied New York were in full bloom and the city buzzed to life with the warm weather. The time difference made it hard.

Passing like ships in the night: he was already at work by the time you woke up, you were in meetings when he’d go to sleep. But text messages and scattered FaceTime calls still made your heart flutter with the simple thought that one day, he’d be across a bridge rather than across the Atlantic.

“Hi,” you answered one morning, your hair in a bun and glasses on your face. Much more comfortable with him than you’d been only a few weeks prior.

“Hi, I can’t believe I caught you.”

“I just got up,” you said, pushing a mug under the spout of your Keurig. “Where are you?”

“Lunch, out--just wanted to step out and say hi if you were around.”

“Hi,” you smiled at him.

He held your gaze for a second, “Hi.”

“What do you have going on today?”

“Same stuff, we start on the finale next week.”

“Does anyone die?”

He lowered one brow on the screen of your phone. “I thought you didn’t want spoilers?”

“So someone dies?!”

“No,” he laughed. “No one dies. Yet.”

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“Wish I could.”

“Fuck with me, or fuck me?”

“The latter, truthfully” he nodded.

“Did you call for any other reason than sexual harassment at--” you looked at the clock above the stove-- “7:43 in the morning?”

“Can I not just say good morning to my--”

He cut himself off, caught the slip before it happened. His what? His girlfriend? His friend? His fuck buddy?

There’d been no conversation regarding what you were or what all of this meant since the day on set in his trailer. Not even after you had sex and boarded a plane only 72-hours later.

And now FaceTiming to say hi seemed to be creeping into territory that friend and fuck buddy didn’t quite fit into.

“Good morning,” you saved him the embarrassment and blinked a few times, a smile to let him know you were doing him a favor.

“What do you have going on today?” He switched the topic and you reached for the sugar.

“Meetings this morning, photoshoot in the afternoon. Dinner with a girl tonight who I find completely boring.”

“Who?”

“Her name’s Alexis Ryder? Her boyfriend knows my ex and now whenever she’s in town I have to at least get a drink with her.”

“Why?”

“Her father is also the VP of A&R at my label,” you nodded.

“There it is,” he nodded. “Makes sense. Well, hey--I’ve got something that’s being delivered to you today, like, after 4pm they said.”

“Delivered to me?”

“Yeah, s’no big deal. Just something for tomorrow.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. The day had finally come, a whole 29 years since the day of your birth and he seemed much more excited than you were. Sixteen and a half for a little, that’s fun.

“Ooookay.”

“Ooookay,” he mirrored your tone, sarcastic. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You hung up, both excited and terrified by the implication of his words. A gift? You didn’t just do that for a friend, or a fuck buddy, right?

Mia listened to you recount the story to her when you sat in a makeup chair later that afternoon. No, she promised. You don’t just buy a gift for a fuck buddy.

You didn’t know what it was, though. There were categories, you and Mia decided. Things you get a girlfriend, things you don’t.

Jewelry, flowers, champagne. Girlfriend.

A gift card? A bicycle? A sweatshirt? She threw her head back and laughed, if he gets you a bicycle, it’s done.

Your phone buzzed on your dresser that evening when you clipped an earring into place and dreaded the dinner date ahead of you. The noises of TriBeCa floated in from the open window, music of a summer evening laced the city streets.

Jason (6:21pm): Got a notification that you have a delivery!

Y/N L/N (6:23pm): Okay, I’ll go check!

You clasped your bracelet, looked in the mirror and wondered if there was any way you could get out phony small talk and fake smiles.

Stomach flu, migraine? You padded over to the front door, twisted the knob and looked down to the welcome mat. A tiny pink box, a sticker folded over the edge to keep it closed.

You picked it up and inspected it more closely. No label, no sign of postage.

You were about to shut the door, bump it closed with your hip but movement in the corner of your eye had you dropping the pink box to the floor and clutching a hand to your heart.

“Hi.”

“Holy fucking shit,” you took a giant step back, both your eyes falling to the box that was now upside down on your welcome mat between you.

You looked back up. There he was. A baseball hat on and a gray hoodie as he let out a laugh, arms extended to tug you towards him.

“I’m sorry, hi--I’m sorry,” he kissed your forehead, you blinked a few times and appreciated the way his arms wrapped around your shoulders. “That was a cupcake from the best spot in Brooklyn, and now it’s ruined.”

“What are you doing here?!” You almost yelled, taken back by the surprise but giddy with excitement when he smiled at you.

He bent down to pick up the box. “Ended up having a few days off since we’re a bit ahead of schedule. Olivia’s in town with the kids, too, so--”

You couldn’t contain your smile, reached your hands up to kiss him in greeting before you pulled him inside.

“Does Mia know you’re here? Was she in on this?”

“Of course Mia knows,” he laughed, walking to set the cupcake on the counter. “How else would I have found my way here?”

Right--he’d never asked for your address, a detail you overlooked all day. Didn’t say anything about who was delivering a gift or how he knew where to send it.

“I can’t believe you’re here. When do you leave? You didn’t have to come for my birthday!”

“No, I know, Olivia’s here and I figured it was good to wrap it into one trip.”

You nodded, her name twice in the last thirty seconds deflated the excitement. Maybe he sensed it, a smile when he said: “I wanted to come though, I wanted to see you, celebrate your birthday. I hope showing up without an invite is cool--apparently that’s my thing now.”

“Apparently,” you shot him a smirk when you went to fetch your phone. “I have to text this girl and cancel--which is great cause I would rather get hit by a bike messenger than sit through dinner with her.”

“That’s an oddly specific alternative.”

“This is my apartment, by the way!” You waved your arms around, heartbeat still elevated a bit when you let out a breath.

He was here, no warning. Somewhere in a five mile radius his ex-fiancé and children were having dinner, prepping a bedtime story. But he stood in your living room, not a hallucination and certainly not a fever dream.

“Wait--you don’t have to cancel, I feel bad.”

Your thumbs already hovered over the screen, eyes trailed up to see him standing in the middle of the room. You didn’t believe him. “You feel bad?”

He thought on it for a second. “I don’t.”

You nodded.

“I should feel bad, right? Showing up unannounced, uninvited…”

You sent what you had typed out--stomach bug, so sorry, raincheck--and then took a few steps until you stood right in front of him.

“Am I crazy if I say that I’d rather spend tonight with you than with some obnoxious friend of my ex-boyfriend’s?”

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirked up exactly how you liked. “I don’t think so. Am I crazy for using time off from work to fly eight hours to New York to see you?”

“Yes,” you nodded with confidence. “But in a good way.”

“I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous.”

“You’ve always been a little presumptuous.”

“Me?” He pointed at his own chest, you walked over to the kitchen to inspect the damage on the cupcake he’d mentioned.

It was toppled over, chocolate frosting smeared on the side of the box. “On our first date you brought up the age gap. I was just gonna pretend it wasn’t a thing but you wasted no time.”

“Our what?”

You traced a finger through it, licked it off and turned to see him. “Walking back from the pub we met at--you brought it up and I didn’t even know if it was a date.”

He had a smug look on his face, arms crossed over his chest when he looked you up and down.

“What?”

“You just called it a date after a solid, hmm, eight weeks of denying it?”

“Whatever,” you waved him off with a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” He let his head tilt to the side, a few steps towards you until he reached out, fingers fiddling with the front of your shirt.

He smiled now, his eyes held yours for a second until you blurted out:

“Are you seeing other people?”

His face faltered, confusion overtook the flirtatious smile when he hesitated. You could have found a better way to ask, more polite and collected and less unhinged insecure stupid kid. But it had been lingering overhead ever since you got home.

The tabloids continued to poke around, looking for proof of something more than platonic. You did your best to ignore the gnawing rumors that sprinkled the newsstands on your block: romance or rebound?

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “It’s okay—I, uh, yeah, we should have that conversation.”

You stood in front of him, his fingers still clutched the fabric in front of your tummy when you let out a nervous exhale.

“That sounds like a yes.”

It was fine—right? It didn’t matter if he was seeing other people or playing the field. After all, he’d been in a relationship for years. Had children and lived with her, a level of commitment that you’d yet to experience. Maybe he needed to let loose, maybe you were just a rebound.

His eyebrows dipped down, almost like your words hurt. “No, I’m not. I haven’t—I wasn’t really looking for anything when I met you.”

“Oh,” you said it quickly, eyes on the ground when he finally took a step back.

“I don’t mean that this isn’t—”

“Right—”

“Just that I didn’t expect—”

“Yeah, it’s okay—“ you turned back to the kitchen, hands on the counter when you looked down at the disheveled cupcake. In a matter of minutes what went from an exciting surprise was now as broken as the baked good in front of you.

“No, Y/N, will you just listen to what I’m saying?”

You turned around, watched him for a second as he tried to gather words.

“I mean that I wasn’t expecting this to be…what it is.”

Silence.

“I’m not seeing anyone but you. I’m not dating anyone but you.”

“It’s okay if you are,” you shrugged a little.

“Well, thanks,” he laughed. “But I’m good with just one girlfriend.”

You fought the smile, felt your cheeks flush when he returned the excited look on your face.

“Unless you have other boyfriends, then we should definitely talk.”

“I didn’t even know I had one.”

“That’s fair, seeing as despite me being a whole sixteen and a half years older than you it took me this long to man up and just, y’know, say it.”

“Yeah, took you a while.”

He came up to you, kissed you so hard the smile only grew. You decided to order in, no point in pleasing the paparazzi. You draped your legs over his on the couch and sipped Champagne that a friend of a friend had sent for your birthday.

He slept in your bed that night and when you woke up, he had a cup of coffee waiting, happy birthday balloons from a convenience store down the street.

Once you sat beside him on the couch, he took a sip from his own mug. “So what are the big birthday plans?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest. “Well, Blake and Ryan are actually having some friends over, part birthday gathering for me, part Friday night dinner party since we haven’t done something in a while.”

“Blake and Ryan as in Lively and Reynolds?”

You nodded. You’d known for a while that you had mutual friends--but you’d both yet to be in New York long enough to end up at the same party or dinner or event.

“I was thinking you could come tonight--if you wanted to, if you’re around. I mean, I know you’re friends with them too so maybe we can stage a casual meeting and act like we’ve never met.” You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively at him, hoping to gain a laugh.

“I’m supposed to have Otis and Daisy,” he met your gaze, guilt on his face when he realized he hadn’t communicated this.

“Oh,” you said quickly, tongue tracing the inside of your cheek when you paused. Right, of course. Olivia’s in town with the kids.

Were you allowed to be mad? Were you the asshole if you were annoyed he was blowing you off for his children? “Yeah, that’s fine--sorry, I thought since today was my birthday--”

You cut yourself off. It was already coming out wrong. He didn’t owe you anything.

“No--I know, I just don’t think I can ask Liv to change her plans or move stuff around. But I’m here now, I’m around this morning.”

The way her name rolled off his lips with ease made you more upset. Irrationally? Maybe.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you shrugged your shoulders and stood to head for the kitchen. “I get it.”

“You don’t seem like you get it.”

“What is there not to get?” You turned around and looked at him, hands on your hips now. “You have children. I get it. I just thought you’d be around tonight.”

“Well, is there another night when they’re free? We could all have dinner soon.”

“I don’t know,” you busied yourself in the fridge.

He came over, watched you for a second before he said: “Hey--I’m sorry. I was so excited to see you yesterday that I just forgot to tell you I made plans to see them tonight.”

You didn’t reply, kept your eyes on the bagel you’d salvaged from the bottom drawer and cursed yourself for being so petty.

He lasted twelve seconds before he scratched at the back of his neck. You wondered what types of thoughts he chewed on in the deafening silence.

Was this your first fight?

“Why are you so upset?”

Now it was.

“Because I wanted you to meet my friends!”

He was quiet for a second, like your confession sat heavy in the room when you plugged in the appliance.

“Would they even want to meet me?”

“Maddy and Ada have been up my ass about it since I told them we were hanging out.”

He smirked a little. “I’ll meet them. Maybe not tonight, but I will.”

You softened, his words implied there was a future, more nights to spend with friends, more time in New York together. You looked up at him for a minute, reassured by the close-lipped smile on his face and the way he pulled you into his chest.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah what?”

“Yeah I can meet your friends one day?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, inhaling the scent of his sweatshirt: cologne and...airport?

Your phone buzzed to life, a FaceTime call from your dad.

“I’m gonna take this in the other room, unless you want to meet him right now,” you teased.

“You said he liked Horrible Bosses?”

“Didn’t stop talking about it for weeks.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully, back-stepping to pick it up off the counter and before heading for your bedroom. He tugged at your waist when you walked past him, kissed you on the lips before he said sarcastically: “Then he definitely won’t mind knowing you’re sleeping with someone almost his age.”

**

Mia thrived on the nights when she got paid to have fun. Sipping cocktails in Blake and Ryan’s swanky penthouse and wearing a Versace dress you’d been gifted three years back brought out the best in her.

You gave Blake a squeeze in greeting, three months since you’d last seen your friend.

“Little miss London,” she pulled you close. “How was your adventure across the pond?”

“Good,” you admitted, waved to another friend across the room. “Got a lot done, but I’m glad to be back.”

“Are you? Even though you had to leave someone behind?”

“Alright, relax,” you lowered your voice. “We’re being quiet about it.”

You’d told her once in passing, a FaceTime call back in April when she asked how you were holding up.

Her eyebrows shot up, “there’s a we now?”

Ryan shouted your name from across the room, wove his way through people to come and greet you.

“Okay, do not tell him if he doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t know?” She asked, her eyebrows arched. “We have internet access.”

Okay, so it was definitely floating around and most people were speculating that there was something going on between you.

“Happy birthday!” Ryan opened his arms, Blake let go of your shoulder so you could hug her husband in greeting.

“Why thank you!”

“Are you trying to get intel about Y/N and our," he lowered his voice before continuing, "favorite soccer coach?”

“I can leave my own birthday party, you know,” you threw a thumb over your shoulder and gestured to the door, narrowed eyes to threaten them both.

“Please,” he made a face at you. “I know we said this party is for you but it was mostly for us so we can get details about the greatest set up of all time.”

Blake whacked him in the stomach quickly, you felt your forehead wrinkle in confusion.

“Set up?”

An awkward beat when Ryan's eyes went wide. “That’s the doorbell,” he said, a hand to his ear.

“It didn’t ring,” you called him out.

“Yes it did,” he nodded. “I heard it--did you hear it Blake?”

“Go,” she pointed to the door, smiled when you brought your eyes back to her, already pleading for you to hear her out.

Mia was beside you now, a drink in hand when she rejoined the conversation.

“They FaceTimed at some point in, like, March, okay? I mentioned you were there, he seemed intrigued.” She shrugged casually, watching both you and Mia for a reaction.

You weren’t mad, just surprised. Arms folded over your chest when Mia asked:

“Wait, so--you guys are the reason he asked her out?”

Blake clasped her hands and held them beneath her chin, a guilty look on her face. “I mean--we planted the seed, maybe.”

“But you didn’t give him my number?”

“I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him,” she laughed.

“So you don’t think it’s weird that he’s so much older?”

“Love knows no age,” she reassured.

“No one said it’s love,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, it’s at least lust,” Mia laughed.

Blake waved you off and got you a glass of champagne. She kept it filled all night and Mia was always close behind as you mingled with other friends you hadn’t seen over the last 12 weeks. Eventually, Maddy and Ada showed up and Blake revealed the cake they got in your honor.

They were just about to sing, lights dimmed and a pointy cardboard hat strapped to your head when you saw Ryan disappear again for the front door.

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!

He opened it, you watched over Mia’s shoulder and saw his eyes meet yours from across the room. A small smile before he offered Ryan a hug, they hung back until you were forced to refocus.

Happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you!

You leaned forward and blew out the candles, too distracted to make a wish as they all clapped and Mia snapped a photo.

He showed up.

Late, right in the middle of the night’s climax, but there he was, across the room with a stupid smirk on his face as caterers sprung into action. Slices of cake on plates with tiny forks, another drink in your hand before you could even dip away to inquire: what are you doing here?

Mia made eye contact with you, a quirk of her brow to acknowledge the party’s newest guest. You shrugged in response, but it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Okay,” Maddy finally tugged you aside once the cake excitement had died down. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

“I have no clue,” you answered honestly. “He said he wasn’t coming, he didn’t even text me.”

Mia and Ada had gathered around, sips of champagne as you all took turns stealing glances in his direction. Still by the foyer, a button down and the same pair of Nikes he wore on your first date.

He peered over, a quick smile when he caught you all watching from across the room and everyone’s head snapped back towards you.

Your pulse jumped through the roof and you smoothed out your dress. “Subtle, guys.”

“Oh come on,” Ada laughed. “He knows he’s causing a scene.”

“Let’s just play it cool, okay?”

“Play what cool?” Blake appeared behind Mia, mouth half-full with a bite of cake when she followed Maddy’s line of sight. Her eyes pulled back to yours quickly, “ohhhhh,” she nodded, a suggestive smile. “That’s exciting.”

“Are you behind this, too?”

“No!” her shoulder rose to her ears in innocence. “I had no idea he was even in town!”

Right, you hadn’t exactly broadcasted that part of the story yet: he flew all the way here for my birthday weekend and we had sex for the second time last night!

“Okay he keeps looking over here,” Maddy lowered her voice and watched you closely, a smile on her face to mask the conversation. “The flirty eye contact is painfully obvious.”

“You should see the two of them together,” Mia patted Maddy on the wrist. “It’s insane--they’re basically eye fucking the entire time.”

“Oh shut up,” you waved her off.

“I believe it,” Ada eyed you before she took a sip of her drink. “You have some weird aura with men--older guys have always been into you.”

“I think that’s what happens when you shake your ass on stage,” Blake teased.

“You’re all horrible people,” you nodded confidently, sipping your own glass.

He was waiting you out. He was still with Ryan, a few other friends beside them as he greeted other people you didn’t know he knew.

But there was no way you were going to be the one to break. You’d stand here and eat cake, drink champagne, pretend that you weren’t keenly aware of his presence all night if you had to.

Distraction when Maddy got a text from her most recent hook-up. Something else for you to all giggle about when she read it aloud, still catching up on the events of the New York spring you’d been absent for.

A group reply was crafted, she swiped through his bumble profile for approval and you continued to make the rounds: thank you so much for coming, how have you been?

By midnight there was music, Ryan’s laugh carried down the hall when you dried your hands on a hand towel in the bathroom. You tugged the door open to find Jason on the other side, eyebrows lifted in greeting, a Manhattan he pushed towards you.

You smiled. “For me?”

“For you,” he nodded.

You took it, brought the skewer up to your mouth and pulled one of the cherries off with your teeth.

He watched, eyes on your lips when you let out a giggle.

“I thought you had children to spend the evening with?”

“Yeah, well, turns out kids go to sleep eventually,” he shrugged. “And they have a nanny, so.”

“You didn’t have to come.”

“If I didn’t come I wouldn’t have the mental image of you eating that cherry to last me the next few weeks in London.”

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Just here to get off.”

He let out a quick laugh, regained composure when he put a hand in his pocket. “That and to stir the pot with your friends, you know, get ‘em all riled up. The one in the light blue dress keeps looking at me.”

“Maddy,” you nodded, peering over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the party.

“How much do they know?”

One shoulder shrug, “they know enough that they’d be suspicious if they see us walking out of the bathroom together.”

“Got it--here, come here then,” he stepped into the bathroom, tugged you in before he closed the door. He pressed his lips against yours once it was shut, a hand along your jaw and your back against the wall.

Your hands tugged at the side of his shirt, pulling his body close to yours before, eventually, he pulled away.

You looked up at him, enough of a sad look in your eyes for him to let out an apologetic laugh. “Oh come on, we both know I’m sleeping at your place after that."

"We can't leave the party together," you challenged.

"Well then how about you leave the bathroom and I'll wait a minute to not look like we're up to something. And in an hour or so we'll do the same thing. And I'll meet you at your place."

You offered playful smirk, a single nod before you dipped out and back down the hall.

story page | talk to me/join the tag list | the playlist

[a-vild-bluemyrtle]

Gaea - The blooming Spirit

Seth Clearwater x Female OC | 10 years after Breaking Dawn | OC with Earth Powers

Also on: AO3 - FF.net

________________________________

Request from @purpledragon04: Can you write a Seth Clearwater x reader where she has earth elements.

I'm sorry it took me all this time to write this down, but I fell into a rabbit hole and I just lost all my creativity. I still hope you like this :))

Requests are still open, Twilight Wolfpack only!

It took me all my mental strength to finally go out from the house, from my garden in particular and get some fresh air. Lately, all I have been doing is lying in our glasshouse and taking care of my flowers. I didn’t adapt that much to the new town, to the cold and rainy days, to the lack of sunshine and especially the lack of flowers. Green was the predominant colour, together with grey. Green was all I could see since we moved to Forks. And grey was all I could feel, no matter how hard I tried.

Leaving my beloved Alsace was harder than I thought, especially because of my powers. They grew there, they got stronger there, I could move mountains, trees, I could grow roses, lilies, tulips wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I could make strawberries and cherries gems bloom in autumn If I wanted. While in Forks... it was like they just got weaker and I was getting weaker with them.

There was something in that town that just sucked the life out of me, I couldn't feel any connection with the grass, the trees, with the animals and no one could figure out why.

I was used to attracting animals, playing with them, to cuddle them in those endless French summers. There was this innate curiosity in them for me, because of my powers. Controlling the element of earth meant not only being able to let nature grow around me or on me – uncountable were the times I let flowers grow in my hair - but it also came with the ability to be connected to animals, understand them even without speaking the same language. I was used to birds flying to me and sit on my fingers or shoulders just with a tiny whistle or ladybugs quickly crawling on my bare feet.

In Forks I could whistle as much as I wanted, no one ever came. I could stay sit on the grass and no flower could grow.

“This forest considers you a treat, ma chérie. You’re a stranger here, a frightful one I would say. The trees and the animals do not know your powers, it is something never seen here.” My father used to say the first days but the more those days passed the more concerned he became. To not talk about my mother, she was almost hysterical and when she saw me dressed up to go somewhere different from the usual glasshouse, she almost cried.

“Isn’t it a little too much, Maman?” I asked furrowing my brows and questioning if mental sanity was still present in our house.

“You have not gone out since we moved, mon chou” – she started while I rolled my eyes.

“And I haven’t seen you wearing something different from sweatpants and t-shirts for 2 months. I’m just happy to see you in one of your colourful dresses”. She said, gifting me with one of her sweetest smiles.

My mother was the epithet of sweetness and kindness and it was from her that I inherited my powers. On my 16th birthday they flowed from her to me and, if I’ll have a daughter, one day it will happen to us too. My powers will be hers and she will pass to her daughter, and her daughter to her daughter and so on. All the women in our bloodline will always carry the Nature genes (another of my father’s names, who was really into X-Men).

“Anyway, I’m going exploring. Don’t wait for me. If we are lucky enough, I’ll find out why my powers do not work here”, I said while grabbing my pink purse and opening the front door.

“Don’t let the trees catch you, chérie”, my father said smirking. I was waiting for the day in which he’ll finally stop saying such horrible dad jokes. Especially the inside jokes only we could understand.

It was raining outside, like every day in that town, but bringing an umbrella with me was out of discussion. I have never felt so distant from Mother Nature since we moved here, so a little bit of rain pouring down on my bare skin would have been a blessing in disguise. The best sensation in the world: being outside while it was raining, especially during the summer. The only problem was that it was autumn in Forks, and I could have easily caught a cold… still I didn’t mind at all.

----

Hours? Months? Years? I don’t even remember how much time I spent that day in the forest strolling around without really thinking where I was going. At some point, while it was still raining, I also took off my shoes and started walking on the muddy and cold soil with bare feet – which may sound disgusting, but once you try how good it feels to just walk without shoes and feeling every inch of the forest under your feet, you’ll never stop doing it.

As I imagined, no traces of animals or plants moving or whatsoever. There was a strange and ominous silence throughout the forest. No birds were chirping, no snakes slithering, no deer jumping around.

When I got out of the house, I was full of hope, I truly believed that all that negative energy was all in my head, that I could fix whatever was happening at that time. But the more I walked the more I started losing that hope. I couldn’t feel anything.

Arrived at a river, I decided to sit down for a moment. The rain stopped a few moments back. I sat on the riverbank and let my feet fell into the cold – freezing – water as I wasn’t enough wet from head to toe. I sat there, sighing and biting my bottom lips in frustration. Why? Why my powers didn’t work? Was it my fault? Of course it was, it’s never Mother Nature’s fault, it’s always mine. Whatever I was, a collateral effect, a special genes carrier or simply a freak, that forest knew.

Another louder sigh came out of my mouth, almost in a desperate attempt to not start crying. I laid down, on the pebbles surrounding the riverbank and what my eyes saw at that moment freaked me out in ways I could have never imagined.

Two dark brown eyes were looking at me, were curiously observing me from the treeline and they did not belong to another human being. I froze in that position, lying on the pebbles with my nose up in the air and my eyes locked into his.

Only years later I understood what was happening at that moment, only after a couple of months later I found out who was hiding in the treeline, to whom those eyes belonged.

At that moment, though, my brain just shut down and there was nothing I could think of. I was scared but at the same time excited. After two months I finally felt something, and even if it were not positive emotions at least they were some kind of emotions.

I slowly got up on my feet, trying to be as subtle as possible so to not instigate the wolf t – or horse, better – to attack me. Our eyes were still onto each other's, my gaze never leaving his and there was something in him that tangled me.

The rain started pouring down again the moment I decided to take a step forward towards him. At the same moment, he seemed to be scared of me and took a step back, his head tilted to one side, his eyes digging into mine trying to figure everything out.

There was some sort of connection happening between me and that wolf, which fur reminded me of the colour of the sand, or more precisely of the colour of the light in the late afternoon in Alsace. And I would have never imagined what that moment meant for my future, not really far as I imagined it was.

We stayed like that, frozen in time and space, under the rain, looking at each other until we realized, or at least he realized – I would have realized a lot later, I had all the hints in front of my eyes and still didn’t have a clue. No words were spoken, not a single one, the only sounds were the thunders and the rain falling from the sky, and our heartbeats – his way faster than mine.

----

“Still daydreaming, darling?” His sweet voice wakes me up and I shake my head smiling when he puts his warm hand on my shoulder. I don’t think I will ever get used to his warmth, every time he touches me I sweetly shiver.

“Mh… yes”. I whisper, more to myself than to him, absolutely sure that he can still hear me clearly.

He hugs me from behind, trying to find the exact spot I’m still looking at outside our window.

“What is it? A deer? Again?” he whispers to my ear, leaving soft kisses on the side of my neck.

I intertwine his fingers with mine and tilt the head a little, so he has more space to kiss me.

“No, no deer at all, baby”, I reply, closing my eyes and enjoying the overwhelming sensation his kisses and hugs were making me feel. He holds me closer and I can’t help to smile more, thinking about everything that happened since the moment we met.

“It’s raining, exactly like that day”. I turn my head to look at him, at those same eyes that turned me upside down on that pouring day years ago.

Those same eyes that haunted me in my sleep until I found out to whom they belonged: to a sweet, gentle man, with arms and legs covered in tattoos, with hairs longer than mine who I fell in love with instantly and married one night on a beach without telling anyone else. A wonderful man I'm lucky enough to call my husband, the love of my life.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Gryffindor Extensive Dating Neville Headcanons:

A/N: Y’all keep finding and requesting the characters I’m so soft for. Here’s my baby Neville who is an absolute sweetheart of a character and should be appreciated more. Requested by @maybenotjellytot (and it’s not letting me tag you, curse you Tumblr)

You know the drill, this is super long and super cute

You meet on the Hogwarts express. He’s stammering and clinging to Trevor for dear life

He’s so shy and blushing and tripping over his words that you can’t help but giggle and introduce yourself

“Neville. Me. I’m. Yes. Leville Nongbottom” You giggle again and he’s bright red.

“Nice to meet you Neville,” you smile brightly.

You sit together on the train ride and it’s sort of awkward but a good awkward. He starts to open up a bit about wanting to learn magic and that his Gran is expecting a lot from him.

You can sympathize with your overbearing well meaning pure blood grandfather

Then you’re both sorted into Gryffindor and it’s nice to have a friend. You find friends in the Golden Trio as well, but you’re always partial to Neville because he’s the first one who had the courage to say hello to you

Since you’re in the same house it means you have all of your classes together. Potions is rough for both of you and Snape just terrifies Neville—sure he was creepy but you didn’t really understand it. You still defended him though, even if it ended you in detention a lot

“You really don’t have to do this,” he stammers, meeting you after detention. “I don’t mind,” you smile and so does he.

You love Astronomy and he loves Herbology and you two are the biggest dorks. He knows everything about plants and you know everything about the stars

Soon you’re learning to ride brooms. It comes easy to you and Neville breaks his wrist. You take him to the infirmary flipping Malfoy off as you walk away sure Hooch took five points from Gryffindor for it but it felt good. The little prat

“There’s always one,” Pomfrey sighs and resets Neville’a wrist. You stay by his side all the while, reassuring him that he was amazing anyway.

“I can’t do anything,” he groans. “Some Gryffindor I am. I don’t belong here.” “Neville that’s not true,” you frown. “You belong in Gryffindor as much as Nifflers love gold.” You both blush at your sudden defense of him.

And honestly it’s nice to have a friend. When the weather turns colder and you’re freezing Neville gives you his gloves and tells you not to worry about it.

You study for exams together. It takes some time but Neville finally catches on to Potions when you (re)teach him the lessons. Snape doesn’t bother you like he does Neville you always want to ask him about it but never find the courage. Some Gryffindor you are, you think

The Christmas Holiday comes and you both hug each other goodbye, promising to write to another and his grandmother and your parents catch sight of the interaction and they tease you both about it all the time

“Mum he’s just a friend!” You whine. “Gran she’s just a friend! That’s all!” Neville dismays. Neither guardian is convinced.

You get Neville a Herbology book and spend time drawing a few of his favorite plants perfectly for Christmas and he gets you a monocle that works like a telescope and shows the night sky any time of day

You go to Quidditch games together and you both put in the same amount of effort into Gryffindor spirit but something is always slightly off to you about the house system that you don’t really tell anyone

You sneak up to the Astronomy tower most weekends and one time Neville catches you saying “you shouldn’t be here you’re going to get in trouble” you take his hand and pull him up the tower and let his hand go, marveling at the stars

“Aren’t they wonderful?” You sigh. “So many stories are written up there Nev, and every night they smile down on us,”

Neville doesn’t understand your passion for the stars but he loves the way you talk about them, like you knew each of the characters in the stories that the stars told

One night you find Harry and Hermione in the Astronomy tower and you’re surprised. Now thanks to Malfoy you all have detention.

In the Forbidden forest you’re paired with Neville and Hagrid and you both set off, terrified. Neville hated the dark and you hated not being able to see the stars. You hear a noise from behind you and jump into Neville arms.

You’re both blushing and awkward. As you apologize and he stammers something about not worrying. Gee some Gryffindors you two are

You’re the one who finds Neville after Hermione immobilizes him and after you undo the spell, you two go straight to McGonagall. Again, you take his hand and pull him through the halls on the way to McGonagall. When he explains what happened, you beam because of course he’s a Gryffindor how can he not see that?

At the End of Year Feast he’s awarded the ten points that causes Gryffindor to win and you hug him without a second thought and now you two are blushing and awkward again and everyone laughs at the two of you.

You write to him over the summer and it’s really nice to have him to talk to. He’s a bit more honest in his letters than he ever was actually talking and laments quite often about his grandmothers expectations and that he’s afraid of failing everyone—especially his parents.

That threw you off guard because you didn’t know anything about his parents and he clammed up about the matter whenever you brought it up so you dropped it a long time ago. You still didn’t ask because well, you figured he’d tell you when he was ready. You also tell him that he could never fail you

You send him a photo of the little garden you’ve started because maybe listening to him talk all those nights made something actually stick and you weren’t half bad at gardening and a bit of Moon Lace (a flower that only blooms under the full moon) for his birthday.

Boy does his grandmother ship you two so hard “Ask her out Neville! Be a man! Treat her with respect! I’d always knew you’d find some lovely girl,” “Gran we’re twelve,” “Nonsense dear boy. When you find a girl like that you don’t let her go,”

Now Neville’s worried about being around you because he feels pressured and maybe he does actually like you but he’s sure you only see him as a friend and he doesn’t want to lose you because his grandmother is right, he doesn’t want to let you go

You meet him on the Hogwarts Express again and you two sit together and all of those worries seem to fade because you weren’t just his friend you were his best friend and he wouldn’t trade that for anything

You’re also sitting with another girl—Luna Lovegood. A first year who has her head in the clouds who then gets sorted into Ravenclaw and you three become the “Silver Trio”

When every girl is enamored with Lockheart, you roll your eyes and scoff and Neville feels slightly satisfied at that.

Neville can tell that you’re saddened because you don’t have Astronomy this year, so he tries to cheer you up by sneaking you to the Astronomy Tower whenever he can manage

You spend those nights telling him stories about the ancient gods and heroes that the stars hold, and he gets lost in your words wondering what it would be like to live back then

When the Chamber of Secrets opens you’re a bit more scared than you let on. The only one who knows that is Neville.

When students start to get petrified, you’re hardly seen away from Neville because you don’t want to be next

Malfoy teases you about it and boy does Neville go off on him surprising everyone even you a bit because you knew he was brave but standing up to Malfoy was a different matter that bordered stupid and you’re a goner because if you doubted your feelings for him before you didn’t now

Neville isn’t the best with comforting people so he normally just ends up getting you plants/flowers. You have a small garden on your bedroom window filled with anything and everything and you care for and name each of them

Third year comes and this time you’re enamored with the new DADA teacher and Neville doesn’t get it and neither do you really. But there’s something about Professor Lupin that just draws you in. Of course you have no idea yet that he’s a werewolf and thereby connected to the moon and stars of which you adore

You love Lupin a little more when he teaches the Laughing Spell and makes a fool out of Professor Snape on Neville’a behalf

But now you’re sort of really worried because why in the world the thing Neville fears most Snape?

When your boggart turns into a mirror Neville worries too because what in the world is that supposed to mean?

It’s a late night in the Astronomy Tower that has you both blurting out “why is that your boggart?”

You both look down, scared to admit what’s deep inside. Neville gives in first and begins to explain.

“Snape was one of You Know Whos most trusted in the first war... my... my parents were—”

“Neville you don’t have to tell me if you’re not—” you quickly cut in

“No, I trust you. And... it’ll be nice to have someone understand,” You take hold of his hand and listen earnestly while he tells you about his parents and how they were driven to insanity by Death Eaters and that Snape reminds him of that every day because all he sees is bravery of his parents that he can never live up to and the one who forced it upon him

You pull him into a hug and just hold him close. You had no idea, but now that you did, it out the world into perspective for you a bit more.

“What about you?” He asked softly. “Why...?”

“The mirror,” you sighed. “I... I hate my reflection. It... it reminds me that I’m never enough. I’m not enough for my parents... or my grandparents... or other people. That I’m not good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, brave enough...” you hug your knees. “Nobody wants someone who’s broken. No one wants a freak,”

“I do,” Neville’s words are sure and confident. “You’re more than enough for me. You’re... you’re perfect...”

There are tears in your eyes and you wrap your arms around him.

Now when you by the off chance catch your relflection in something, Neville is normally right beside you and all your fear and worries about not being enough fade over the next few years

The Fat Lady’s portrait gets attacked and you take Nevilles hand without thinking because it feels secure and safe. You side by side with Neville in the Great Hall that night and you’re thankful for the night sky that’s projected on the ceiling

You can’t sleep so you watch the faux stars. Neville sits up with you and asks you to tell a story because it calms him and you and now there are a bunch of students and some professors listening to your stories.

You’re absolutely outraged when Snape steps in to reach DADA but you quiet down when Neville shakes his head, silently pleading not to draw attention to yourselves. You sulk and dive into the lesson because it’s very close to the lore you’re used to reading.

Then you almost drop your quill because you realize why Snape has you reading up on werewolves. “Hey, what’s Professor Lupins first name?” You ask stammering. “Uh, Remus, I think,” Neville frowns. “You alright?”

You nod and rush out of the room as soon as the bell ring and Neville is chasing after you because you’re normally not this skiddish/flighty

You grab a book from your personal library—a book on classical mythology—and flip through the pages. “I knew it!” Then you hear a crash and a yelp. “Oh stars, Neville,” you realize because you know for a fact he’s forgotten that the girls dormitories are enchanted. You race down and find him sprawled out on the common room floor.

“I’ll tell you,” you help him up. “Tonight,” then you’re at war with yourself because you don’t know how safe it is to be out in a full moon but you trust Dumbledore and Professor Lupin enough that later you and Neville are up in the Astonomy Tower

“A werewolf? You think Professor Lupin is a werewolf?” Neville asks skepically. “Yes,” you confirm and you’re about to go into it again when Neville intervenes “No, no I trust you. I do... but what are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” you whisper. “It wasn’t his choice... and he hasn’t hurt anybody...” “shouldn’t we tell someone?” Neville asks. “And out him? It’s not exactly easy to be a werewolf Nev.” you two just sit looking at the stars. The Neville reminds you that you both have an essay due for DADA for Snape.

“Oh! That wretched Snape!” You jump up. “Merlin! He’s making the entire class write how to kill werewolves for Lupin to read when he gets back!” You are absolutely seething and Neville has to stop you before you go and hex the stars out of Snape but Merlin does he love you for it

You refuse to write the essay. Instead you copy down all your notes about Roman mythology and Romulus and Remus and the She-Wolf Lupa and how all great heroes of Roman mythology start under the care of the She-Wolf

Remus is about having a nervous break down when he gets to your paper and now he’s sobbing because he’s reading your paper about heroes and wolves

You get full marks on the essay and Lupins deepest respect

Anyway

Neville stumbles through an invitation to Hogsmeade and again you laugh and accept and then before you know it it’s not just you two but an entire group of third years and you two can’t help but feel a bit disappointed

He followed you around the book shop as you pick up books and flip through them and you watch him marvel at the plants in a nearby shop. He goes back and buys you the book you were looking at and you buy him the vine plant. For Christmas. Obviously. As friends.

The holidays come and you’re both hesitant to say goodbye because of the fear lingering over Hogwarts but you part ways

You don’t spend a day without thinking of Neville is okay over the holidays and you send him letters constantly. He’s always worrying about you

When he visits his parents that Christmas he sits down and tells them about a girl he met who’s full of courage and stories and how kind she is and stubborn and brave and how they would adore her

His grandmother over hears and doesn’t tease Neville about it, but she has a deeper respect for you because you really have captured her grandsons heart

Malfoy is being Malfoy one day and you’re about to punch the git in the face but Neville grabs your arm. “It’s not worth it,” he whispers, “he can be wrong, but I know you and you’re not like him. Don’t stoop to his level.” and Merlin if you don’t melt on the spot and somber up

You figure out that Neville has the biggest sweet tooth after catching him in Honeydukes and you ask your (muggle) dad to send you Muggle candies and sweets for Neville to try. He always shares them with you and prefers sweets that don’t have an air of danger to them

You meet fourth gear on the train and your heart skips a beat because he’s grown about half a foot and his hair is shaggy and a mess and perfectly Neville and he still has Trevor and it makes you smile

He’s also freaking out internally because you’ve grown a lot over the summer and you’re in a muggle tshirt and jeans with an MP3 player and he’s just... wow. You two listen to music on the train ride this year and end up falling asleep on each other

At this point everyone including you is waiting for him to ask you out and become an official couple and every time you think he tries to ask you he stammers and freaks out and doesn’t because you’re just so perfect and pretty and popular and he’s not and he’s sure that you like someone else and he’s not much

He finally asks you to the Yule Ball... sort of.

“He’s been practicing dancing alone all month,” Rom jeers. “Must be some girl,” Neville is absolutely red and you can’t seem to look away from your dinner because you think he’s doing it for someone else because why wouldn’t he just ask you to practice dancing? You were best friends anyways, of course you would help him

You ask him who the girl is totally not jealous at all and he goes red and quiet again and you’re really worried now because you don’t want to lose him as a friend if he does like someone else

He finally admits that it is you that he wants to go to the ball with and you just stare at him not expecting that at all because you were convinced he liked someone else but no it’s you. Then it hits you. MERLIN HE LIKES YOU

He’s fumbling for an explanation and that it’s okay if you don’t want to go and a thousand other things and you just pull his tie and press your lips to his to shut him up. It’s awkward and uncoordinated but a perfect first kiss

You both can’t stop smiling the next few days because you’re finally together and there aren’t any walls between you anymore and it’s just nice to have your best friend back who is now also your boyfriend

Oh and you’re also going to the ball together. You smile about that too.

“It’s... it’s not much,” you flush looking down at your dress. “And it’s a bit muggle...” “You’re perfect,” Neville cuts you off and for once you believe the words and him practicing dancing really pays off because he’s bloody marvelous. You two spend the whole night laughing and dancing

Though everyone is staying on campus for the holidays because of the tournament Neville asks you if you want to come with him to visit his parents on the holiday. You smile softly and take his hand, nodding

You formally meet Neville’s Grandmother this time, not just passing by at a train station. She starts to scold Neville about doing something, but sees you clench your fist and take his hand and she pauses. 

You’re nervous and it’s written on your face and Neville thinks that it’s because of the entire situation and that his parents are well... but you quickly blurt out “What if they don’t like me?” Both Neville and his grandmother gape at you. His grandmother recovers first “a sweet brave witch like you? How can they not my dear?” 

You can see that Neville’s smile falls the father you walk into St. Mungo’s, so you take his hand and smile. He doesn’t smile but he doesn’t look so upset any longer. His gran leaves you two alone as you walk into the long room

“Mum? Dad? This is the girl I was telling you about,” And your heart just breaks for the one holding your hand. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom,” You smile and introduce yourself. “You have a wonderful son, and should be very proud,” and you realize just how brave Neville is for the first time in knowing him and Neville realizes that he never wants anyone but you by his side because you make him feel the bravest

You do visit him this summer. He lives in a downtown flat in the outskirts of London with his Gran. He’s got a garden in the small space out back and it’s filled with the most beautiful plants the moonlace you sent him is in a window box outside his bedroom 

he’s got a jar of old candy wrappers sitting on his dresser and you give him a questioning look. “They’re from my mum,” He admits “I... I don’t want to toss them but I don’t know what to do with them,” “May I?” You ask and he nods, looking slightly worried. 

You take one of the wrappers and easily fold it into a tiny origami butterfly. “My dad showed me how... we used to fold our gum wrappers...” soon each wrapper is folded into a little butterfly and placed into the jar again. 

Fifth year seems like a total fiasco between Umbridge and the ministry but you and Neville both love DA

You know he loves it because he feels like he’s finally making his parents proud. “You do that just by being their son, I don’t care what your gran says,” You whisper one night, looking at the old photo of the Order of the Phoenix 

You and Neville both get very good at defense spells and though you can’t sneak away to the Astronomy Tower that year, you do go to the RoR on quiet nights by yourselves and it’s just a huge greenhouse with a glass roof and walls where you can sit and watch the stars and maybe have midnight picnics 

okay i’m calling bullshit on JKR again neville has a corporeal patronus

It’s a lion, let’s be honest

When he does cast the patronus you let out a yell of victory and so does he. Then you’re hugging and the charm falls but he doesn’t care. Your patronus might be a five foot butterfly but its fine and terrifying 

You steal his sweaters all the time even though you think they’re god-awful but they’re always warm and smell like him and soft and you like people including your reflection knowing that you’re his and he wants you and chose you

Neville only gets caught by the Inquisitorial Squad because Draco  throws you to the ground and Neville breaks his nose a-la-muggle then helps you up

At the Ministry you and Neville are a force to be reckoned with against Death Eaters and he saves you from Bellatrix because damn if he’s letting anyone else he loves get hurt by her

But you’re one step ahead and jump in front of Neville just as Bellatrix sends the Cruatius curse at him and furious, Neville sends one right back at Bellatrix before lifting you into his arms

You’re not awake but you’re breathing. “Stupid brave girl,” He cries, holding you, carrying you away from the fight as the rest of the Order shows up

He stays beside your hospital cot and refuses to be looked after himself by Pomfrey until you open your eyes. “Nev?” You rasp. “Stars! What were you thinking!? Running in front of me like that!?” He yells, pulling you into his arms. “Couldn’t let her hurt you too,” your voice is shaky and broken and he finds himself crying because he loves you. “I love you too Nev,” you whisper out

Then proceed to yell at him about refusing treatment and he laughs, wiping away your tears and pressing his lips to yours. It’s caked in dirt and blood, but it’s the best kiss and he refuses to let you out of his sight

That summer you go over every Sunday for family dinner and to just hang out with Neville. His gran hovers the first few weeks, but boy is she smitten with you because you remind her so much of Neville’s mother

He comes to your muggle and magic home and is amazed at the farm house that you live in in the middle of nowhere and finally understands where your love of stars comes from because out in the country he could see everything

He loves your cat Moxy and asks why you don’t bring her to school and you explain that she’s not a familiar, she’s just a normal house cat. And he swears that you and the cat have a language of your own and sees you two have full on conversations and arguments and just smiles because he loves you

Your parents love him so much and adopt him into the family on the spot. You show him some muggle flowers and plants that are your favorite (sunflowers, marigolds, loquat trees hydrangeas). You two spend forever binging Disney movies because he’s never seen any and you’re not having that and despite the war looming overhead, it’s a moment of peace

Sixth year when Neville gets the invitation for Slughorn’s lunch on the train you practically have to shove him out the door because “We always ride together, I can’t just leave you, I’m not going.” “Neville I swear to the gods go!” 

He comes back, slightly sulking and you ask. “Just wanted to know my for who my parents are,” You dislike Slughorn on the spot. “Or maybe he wants to know you because you’re a hero,” You brush his hair from his eyes. It’s not hard to get the smile back into his eyes and on his lips

Sixth year is relatively normal for you and Neville, despite all of the fear and rumors spreading about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You are aware that the Golden Trio and the “chosen one” are up to something but for the moment you just want to go to Hogwarts, kiss your boyfriend, and pass your N.E.W.T.s 

And maybe you worry about Draco Malfoy a bit because you know he’s a prat but he just looks like death this year. Neville can’t deny that you’re right and aids your efforts to try and reach out to the Slytherin

Then Dumbledore dies and everything changes. Part of you regrets not doing something more, but part of you is grateful that you enjoyed the moments before, while you still could. 

Again you just want to punch Bellatrix in the face because at this point she’s frankly just annoying

You and Neville go to the funeral and you’re both stoic but gripping the other’s hand tightly. 

“It’s up to us now,” Neville whispers one night while visiting his parents, a common thing for you two recently. “Harry isn’t coming back next year.” You’re furious with Harry for skipping out on Hogwarts, but you know Neville is right, the school needs hope still

You two reopen DA and you start a support group on campus under Snape’s nose for the younger kids who need to feel safe and protected. The first years just break your heart because they’re so young and it’s just not fair that they have to go through their first year of Hogwarts like this

The Room of Requirement becomes a safe haven for anyone and everyone but especially you and Neville who really can’t seem to catch a break. You’re rarely apart when you can help it and have been sleeping curled up with another since the first week

You defend first years ruthlessly from the prats in Slytherin and still try to get through to them that it didn’t matter whose side they were on, this isn’t right and maybe Draco and a few others let you go a few times scot free

You and Neville still watch the stars whenever you can manage and story nights with you become a commonality amongst younger years who really just need a hero or fairytale to believe in and Merlin it does something to Neville when he sees first years curled up in your lap hanging on to your every word or fast asleep

You two are sort of honorary parents that year and all of the professors who still believe in the cause are on your side and giving you two anything you need to give to the younger kids

Patching each other up after “detentions” you decide somewhere along the way that if you ever make it out of this alive you want to do two things: marry Neville and become a Healer because you’ve got a knack for healing spells and potions

The Battle of Hogwarts finally comes and you both are more than ready for it. After helping the first years to safety you and Neville join the fight hand in hand. You’re terrified but you can’t help but smile at him because you remember a shy dorky kid from first year and now he’s a leader and everything you knew he could be

When Harry is pronounced dead Neville looks at you, despaired and kisses you. It’s desperate and fast then he kisses your forehead and runs out of the crowd to face Voldemort alone and you don’t know if you love or hate him in that moment

Luna catches you and boy is she string because you can’t shake her grip. “Watch,” She whispers softly. “He’ll be alright. He’s got a fighter’s spirit,” You want to argue and run out after him, but she’s right, he’s bloody brilliant on his own as you watch through tears

As soon as you realize that Harry isn’t dead you throw Luna off, call Neville’s wand to your hand and you’re back to back fighting off Death Eaters while scolding him about never doing that again “Yes dear,” He laughs. 

Then Nagani coils around your feet, making you fall  and scramble back, wandless. “Neville!” You scream, terrified. He looks around panicked for you and then at the ground. The Sorting Hat was inches from him, a silver handle with red rubies presented. 

He draws the sword and roars, killing the snake. You’re both panting and staring at each other. He helps you up and you pull him into another kiss before there’s an explosion behind you two. “We should...” “Yeah...” you chuckle and take his hand and dash off into the madness again.

The fighting seems to stop as Harry and Voldemort face each other down. You and Neville watch side by side, clinging to each other

As soon as Voldemort is gone you scream in victory and Neville takes you in his arms and you’re kissing again and for one moment everything is okay, because you’re both alive and free and it’s going to be okay. 

Then you quickly go around mending and healing those who need it, not stopping until Neville pulls you away from the infirmary and sets you down on a cot. 

“They need me,” You mumble into his shoulder as he takes a look at your wounds. “And they might appreciate it if you live long enough to help them,” There’s a soft smile on his lips as he patches you up and presses a soft kiss to each of your wounds.

There are too many funerals and too many tears and too many nightmares, but he’s always there beside you. And you’re beside him. You both expect to wake up in the room of requirement with Voldemort still alive, but it never happens.

You and Neville go and visit his parents again and together you tell them both what happens, together, because even if they’ll never understand the words spoken, it’s a reassurance to you and Neville that it happened and everything is over and that you’re alright

Neville still stammers through his proposal to you and you’re laughing and crying and saying yes because Merlin you love him to the moon and back 

You’re visiting his parents alone the day before the wedding and for a shining moment, his mother takes your hand and you see a light in them as she whispers “thank you,” then the light is gone and she’s back to her spaced out look

The wedding isn’t much, just school friends and professors and some family. Neville is in a sweater and you’re barefoot in your backyard with a bouquet of moonlace getting married under the stars

You speak on behalf of Draco at his trial and convince Harry and just about all of your friends as well, because Draco was a victim like the rest of you were

You decide that you want to open a place for all the kids at Hogwarts who need a summer/holiday home because it’s not safe at their homes or they don’t want to go home. Neville kisses you when you suggest it and starts looking into places to make your dream happen 

Harry offers Grimmauld Place and you cry and hug him because it’s perfect and soon all of the alumni from your year are working on fixing up a the place because they agree, there needs to be a safe haven for these kids

When he starts teaching at Hogwarts, you become a part of the staff as a therapist/Healer/on-hand mother figure to anyone and everyone. You don’t want kids like Draco or Neville or Harry to slip through the cracks, and though you can’t take down the house system, you can help kids while they grow up

You and Neville go out and see every new Disney movie in theaters, even before you have kids (and eventually you make your way to America to go to Disney World. It becomes an annual tradition)

You and Neville can’t have biological kids because of your injuries during the war so you adopt: first a little boy Perseus Frank Longbottom, then a little girl a few years later, Persephone Alice Longbottom. 

Every year on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, you and Neville stop classes that day and tell all of the students the story, hand in hand. Everyone gathers in the Great Hall as the Storyteller and her Hero paint a tale of love and loss and hope.

.

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[maemi324]

Burned

Hello all you lovely people! Today I come to you bearing gifts!

the gift that is this fic, which is quite possibly the longest fanfic I’ve ever done. Period. I’ve written more for a personal story of mine, but this one…this just takes the cake.

14 pages, 6988  words. That may not sound like a lot, but for me it was a huge thing, and I’m actually pretty proud of it. 

this was inspired by the song “Burn the Witch” by Shawn James, which I highly recommend listening to towards the end of this.

So this involves witches, as you might have guessed. I did do some research on this, referencing a few holidays. With that being said, this is not the fic to go to looking for accurate information about Pagan Holidays, their differences, similarities and all the right customs. This is all mixed in with some fictional things that I felt helped the story flow. If you want an accurate description of their holidays, practices, beliefs, please go do your own research, or ask someone that knows about them, as that person is not me. 

With that out of the way! here are some mentions of some characters in here!

Aizawa, Present Mic, All Might, All for One, Shigaraki, LOV (vague description), Ochaco, Iida, Todoroki, mama Midoriya

Warnings: Character Deaths (kind of) vague descriptions of death, witch hunt, stakes, fire. OOC Shigaraki probably, and Izuku. If there are more warnings needed let me know. Only edited by me. May edit later. Right now i just wanna post this guy.

@katsukikitten​, @what-the-censored-xd​ I hope you enjoy!

You were standing beside your mother, hanging onto her skirts as she placed a flower crown in your hair, your small hands reaching to gently feel their soft petals. 

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

It was the brightest summer you could remember, the first thing you could remember actually.

You could see your father, as well as some of your parents’ friends, all gathering wood into this large pile to be lit that night. You felt a thrum of something run through your fingers as your hands fell back to your sides. Excitedly you tugged on your mother’s skirts. 

She’d just placed a crown upon a friend’s head, looking down at you with that sweet smile that had you giggling. 

“What has you so giggly darling?” 

She bent down to your level, nearly falling over as you thrust your zinging hand in the general direction of her face. She carefully pushed your fingers back, a gasp at her lips as soft yellow hues glowed from your fingertips, your other hand still preoccupied with the soft flower petals.

“Well would you look at that! I knew you’d be getting it soon!” She pressed kisses all over your face, the last one landing on your forehead. Her attention was pulled from you as someone called out to her, a young woman, no older than your own mother, with hair so dark it was almost green, carrying someone who’s hair matched hers. 

“Inko! You made it!” She hugged the woman- now named Inko- closely, only pulling back after a tight squeeze. 

“Thank you for inviting us! Are you sure it’s alright that we’re here? These aren’t, well, really our traditions to do-”

“Nonsense! You’re family, you are just as welcome here now as any other part of the year. Now who is this young one?” You watched as she motioned to the, what you could now see was a young boy, who had the brightest green eyes you had ever seen, with a magic all their own.

“This is my son, Izuku, my pride and joy,” She nuzzled his cheek, pressing a kiss there. In an attempt to get him to smile she blew a raspberry on his cheek, which had him giggling, but his eyes remained trained on your mother. “He’s a little shy around strangers however”

“ That’s the same little one I saw last year? Goodness, he’s grown so much!”

“Oh I know! It seems like only yesterday I just had him! 

You frowned, you wanted mama’s attention! It was like she’d forgotten you were there. You tugged on her skirts with a whine, hardly mollified when she only gave you her hand. You pressed it against your cheek. 

“And this is the lady of the day?” Inko set down Izuku in favor of looking you over.

“Yes indeed, our little Birthday girl, (Y/N)” She smiled down at you letting go of your hand, “Why don’t you show Izuku how to make a flower crown, hm?” 

At the idea of doing something fun your mood brightened immediately, offering your hand to him. He instead looked up at his mother, now adorned with her own flower crown, who gave him a light push towards you. 

He nervously gave you his hand and you pulled him over to the circle of people braiding flowers together.

Somehow, that little moment blossomed into friendship. As the hours passed, he’d opened up, little by little, much like the flowers in your hand had when first blooming. He told you stories from his village, tales of a heroic man- a knight you would later remember- under the name of “All Might”.

 As he talked, he paid close attention to how your hands moved as he made his crown. While it wasn’t perfect, he placed the small crown over the one your mother had given you, saying it wasn’t any good. You told him right then and there you were proud to wear it. You had yet to finish yours, so you asked him to continue his stories as you worked. It may have been all he talked about for the first hour since then, but you were keen to hear his tales, eyes sparkling with something wonderful as his freckled cheeks turned pink at the sound of your laughter. 

He was also incredibly interested in your traditions. You were too young to have them all memorized by heart, but you did know that at every celebration, you, and others of your kind in the area, came to this specific clearing in the woods. 

The area had been used for as long as any elder could remember, slowly built into a circle with a place for the fire in the center, steps built into the hill as makeshift seats, the grass around the area lush and green, the best to dance around the fire in. During this celebration in particular you adorned crowns of flowers and built the fire, dancing and offering praise to the gods. Hardly any from the village came to these celebrations, but they did not condemn your ways and kept to their own. 

You danced and played the day away, the other children chasing after you in good fun. Giggles and loud shrieks filled the air, air soft and warm with the scent of the lavender fields so close by.

Of course, you were both so young then, by the time the stars were high in the sky, the both of you were out like lights, leaning against one another with a blanket draped over your laps. You only remember briefly waking as you were cuddled next to someone in your bed. You paid no mind as your father kissed your forehead, leaving you with a whisper of ‘goodnight’. You snuggled back into the person beside you, green hair tickling your nose as you slipped back into sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, breakfast lingering in the air. Your heart clenched sadly as you were alone. Had yesterday been a dream? Where had your new friend gone? You scrambled out of bed into the main room, Izuku sitting next to his mother, stuffing a sweet bread your father had made into his mouth, whilst Inko and your mother talked about the previous night.

Since then, Izuku and his mother had returned to every holiday, the Autumn equinox, Samhain, the Winter solstice, every single one. You would count down the days, a small piece of charcoal to mark on your wall until the day he arrived. 

With every visit came more tales of knights and their battles, He’d even started writing them down, so that way no one would forget them and their deeds. You had joked that with a memory like his, he would never forget. 

During the time in between visits, you learned how to help manage your father’s shop. He taught you which herbs and plants had medicinal properties, how to bring a potion to the right temperature and keep it there, hands glowing a soft blue. 

Your mother taught you the other properties of magic, warding away evil and the right way to banish an evil that had long sunk its roots into it’s target, hands glowing a soft purple. You were all too happy to learn from them, how to help people with a kind hand and a soft smile. 

But there were times your heart had wanted to be cruel, to be angry. When all you wanted to do was place something wicked on the boys that ran around your village and teased you. Especially when they had torn apart a necklace your mother had given you. 

It wasn’t rare by any means, but your mother had given it to you and thus it was special.

You told your mother as such after hours of searching for the pendant, with little to no luck of even finding the chain. She had nearly dropped the jar of spices into the soup she had been making. 

“Curses are not things to be taken lightly darling,” She sat you down at the table, your feet kicking in an irritated fashion, toes barely touching the floor. “They are dangerous, and not for the faint of heart. But most importantly, that is not what our magic is for” she tilted your pouting face up to hers, so she could look you in the eye, her other hand taking your smaller one into hers. “Our magic is to help and heal. Those of our magic who choose otherwise have…They have died, or worse even. So promise me you’ll never curse or hex anyone. Alright?”

“I promise mum,” you sighed, anger dissipating into a strange form of disappointment and forced contentment. She let go of your hand with a smile, a confused expression on your face as you opened your hand to find the necklace sitting on your palm as if it had been there for hours. 

That promise only lasted a short time. The next time Izuku had visited, the boys began to pick on him as well, he was shorter and smaller than they were, a prime target. That was all easily ignorable, taking his hand and leading him off somewhere else. The last straw had been a kick to his dream.

“You’ll never be a real knight, no matter how hard you try! You’re too much of a mama’s boy, too weak!”

You could have sworn you’d seen red, though Izuku begged you not to do anything. It was only his asking that spared the boys a beating they would not come out of unscathed. 

So instead, come nightfall, you had slipped from your bed, careful not to step on Izuku as you passed. You snuck into the shop, grabbing one of your father’s bowls and setting out into the forest. You picked at your ingredients with haste, mashing them together with water and a stone. You uttered the foulest curse your young mind could think of; giving the boys a taste of being so close but never there. An itch they couldn’t scratch, they would never be able to scratch, no matter how sharp their nails.

Pleased with your work, you washed out the now empty bowl. You ignored the sickly feeling in your stomach, setting the bowl back in its place. You closed the door as softly as you could, sneaking back into bed.

However, that morning you awoke to your skin feeling itchy, the sensation unrelenting no matter how hard your nails scratched. Your whimpers of panic woke Izuku, eyes wide with panic of his own, he dove out the door and ran for your mother. 

That’s how you found yourself alone, with your mother, the offending bowl in question as well as one that had an ointment of some kind in it, your mother smearing it over your red skin.

“I hope you’ve learned something from this,” her voice held just the barest hint of amusement, though only just barely. “Poison ivy isn’t exactly a walk in the park” she finished with your arms and moved on to your back. 

“If you weren’t careful however,” her voice turned hard, your body tensing at the shift in tone, “This could have turned out far worse. Far more dangerous. Magic isn’t a game, there are real consequences to your actions, just as there are in any other parts of life” You nodded your head solemnly, the back of your mind thanking just about everything for the relief the ointment brought. 

Of course you had to learn the hard way the effects of going against your own nature. 

You’d spent that Summer Solstice wrapped up with an ointment, dealing with Izuku’s annoying little smirk.

“I appreciate the thought (Y/N),” He whispered to you, the two of you sat a ways from the fire as you watched the others dance, “You wanted to defend me, but please, don’t go around cursing people, for my sake if not yours” he laughed, swatting your hand away from your own arm as you tried to itch it. 

“Yeah, yeah, see if I ever do anything nice for you ever again” you groused, no heat behind your words. You were best friends, you’d do anything for him, just like he would you.

It was on your seventeenth birthday, a coming of age for a young witch, when you learned how far those feelings would go.

It was one hell of a birthday, you thought, sitting behind the wagon full of flowers that had yet to be formed into crowns, crying pitifully. The young girls of the village had teased you, your dress was so short compared to the usual style, even the sleeves! Your ankles were on full display and your feet were bare.

You hardly minded their comments, their concerns didn’t matter. It was your coming of age celebration as well as the Solstice. Everything was perfect, you’d even woken up early, gotten all your chores done and had enough time to have a relaxing bath beforehand. Their sense of fashion didn’t matter compared to your traditions. Not only that, but your mother had made the dress herself, it was soft and comfortable. 

It was only when the other witches your age had decided that the color you wore wasn’t appropriate for the celebration, in these ‘modern’ times, far too dark and disrespectful. While they had etched a seed of self consciousness into your mind, you carried on, your mother had chosen this color specifically for you and the celebration at hand. The colors were fine! In your irritation, you stomped away hardly looking where you were going, falling face first and sliding into a patch of mud, probably leftover from yesterday’s rain.

You looked up from your predicament, one of the others dogs lifting up its leg to pee near you but not on you. At that angle it hardly mattered. The giggles from younger children were harsh enough, grating on your ears, whispers from some of the elders of this being a bad omen. But what was the worst of it all? The concern in Izuku’s eyes. He’d made a beeline towards you, but before he could reach you, you had sprinted off, just away from everyone.

You didn’t know why his eyes made it all the worse, that look never would have bothered you before, right?

The sun was starting to set, the wood was almost arranged perfectly to burn all night long.

You wiped your eyes, glaring down at the mud now on your hands.

“I thought I might find you here”

You jumped, heart launching itself into overdrive as you whirled around only to see Izuku.

“Oh! Izuku…you scared me” you placed a hand over your heart, as if it would slow to a normal pace if you did so. “Shouldn’t you be helping with the fire?” you asked, scooting over so he could sit next to you.

“What kind of a friend would I be if I let you be here by yourself?” he asked, his gaze patiently waiting to meet yours, as soon as you had the courage to.

“You seemed alright with me being here up until now” you muttered. A flash of hurt appeared in his eyes, you immediately regret your harsh tone.

“W-Well, I had wanted to let you cool down before I just got in your space-”

“No, that was unfair of me Izuku, I’m sorry. I just…everything was supposed to be perfect. Or realistically perfect. Falling flat on my face in mud wasn’t exactly a part of the plan” you wiped your hands off on what little remained of your dress. “Or being considered a possible bad omen”

“I know what that’s like, remember on my fifteenth birthday, when I was helping carry all those crates?” You had to hold back a snort, as you recalled the story. 

Your father had arranged for you to meet a supplier of a rare type of herb, as well as a few crates of spices for one of the shopkeepers in the village. The poor man had fallen ill this year and had somehow convinced his supplier to meet him halfway instead of going to the nearest town. 

Izuku had been visiting at the time and, of course, offered to help you. You had just gotten over the main hill, you could see the people of your village milling about. You turned to look over at Izuku, only to watch as he fell face first onto the ground, tripping over a root. The barrels of spices went rolling down the hill, him rolling after them. 

The barrels landed with a crash against some boxes stacked near the well, Izuku was hardly so lucky as he had rolled right into the wells wall.

“You were so lucky that you came out of that with only a broken arm” you laughed softly, a huff of laughter escaping him as well. 

“At least the spices were alright, I’d have felt so bad if they’d all gone to waste because of my clumsiness” he placed a hand over yours, not even minding the dirt and tears that clung to it. 

“It’s not quite the same as a ‘bad omen’, it’s also probably a little thoughtless of me to say ‘ forget them’ when they’re a huge part of your culture, your traditions. But…I want you to know that, they could call you any and all these bad things under the sun…and your parents wouldn’t believe them for a minute…I wouldn’t believe them for a minute.” 

He stood up then, pulling you gently along with him. You allowed him, though your eyes were too preoccupied with seeing what everyone else is doing. Most were gathered around the fire, listening as one of the elders spoke, others talking and laughing amongst themselves, their cups full of sweet liquid.

He led you down to the river, the water warmed by the long summer day, softly babbling as the wildlife went about their ways. He sat you down on one of the rocks, taking one in front of you for himself.

“What are we doing over here Izuku?” 

He didn’t answer you, reaching into one of his pockets and dunking a cloth into the water.

“Isn’t that your handkerchief?” you ask, face molded into disgust as the cloth came closer to you.

“What? No, well yes, but this one is an extra one, it’s clean I promise” he gently placed his hand on your chin, tilting your face up as he wiped the muck off of your face.

His touch was soft but firm, eyes only taking in his work as your own counted the freckles that danced along his cheeks, the way he bit his lip in concentration. Somewhere in the deepest part of your mind and the very center of your heart, you knew why that look had your cheeks turning red and your heart hammering in your chest. But at the forefront of your mind, you couldn’t tell why.

The two of you were silent as he continued his pattern, dunking the cloth into the water, washing out the dirt and wringing out the water to carefully wash away the dirt on your face. 

It doesn’t take him long however, to finish with his task, washing and wringing out the cloth for the last time. His eyes finally meet yours, offering a gentle smile that only widened as he booped your nose with the cloth, the face you made sending pink butterflies through his stomach. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, his good mood far too contagious.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, his hand still holding your face as he took in your smile. You only hummed in agreement, internally mourning the loss of warmth from his hand as he pocketed the cloth. 

“Thank you, Izuku, that was…you are too kind for this world, I think” You stood up from the rock, you couldn’t stay down by the river all night. Your dress may have been ruined, you’d have to apologize to mother for it, but someone must have brought an extra. Or so you hoped. 

Hand in hand, you walked back to the clearing, trying to slip past the majority of the party to get to your mother, only for a gentle hand to stop you both in your tracks.

One of the elders, Mrs.Tachibana, looked up at you with kind eyes. She was mostly known for her talent for seeing into the future. That’s what the majority said it was, she described it as, ‘ getting a feeling I’ll need such and such object today’ only for it to come in handy at the oddest of times.

“I’m sorry Mrs.Tachibana, did I bump into you?” She shook her head at your question.

“Oh no dear, but I do have something for you. I had made it for my daughter, but it seems she made her own dress this time. I think It’s a good color for you!” She carefully handed the dress to you, to which you handed to Izuku, your body was covered in mud! You weren’t about to dirty some other dress.

“Oh are you sure-”

“Oh yes of course dear, no one else is going to be wearing it tonight!” 

You quickly changed behind a tapestry your mother had been working on, feeling much better and cleaner in this new dress, it was a little on the short end, but just barely past what your mother’s dress had been.

You walk back out to find Izuku waiting for you, the fire having been lit. The music was hardly loud, but the drums struck a chord within your heart that pulsed with energy, a need to sing along, to move to the beat. You bound over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I see you’re feeling better” He mused, his foot tapping to the beat.

“Much better. Come dance with me?” You tugged gently on his hand toward the fire.

“You know I’m not the best dancer (Y/N)” He warned, as if you didn’t have years of experiencing it first hand. You shrugged your shoulders, even though he was far from good, he was most definitely not a disaster.

“Is that a No?” You swayed back and forth on your heels, looking up at him with what you hoped was a sweet enough look to get what you liked. He let go of your hand, for a moment you feared you’d pushed your luck too far, suddenly his hands were on your waist, lifting you into the air as he spun you into the dancing circle, your shriek of surprise worth the slight pain of him stepping on his own toes as he brought you back down.

You danced the night away together, hardly pausing for a break, you didn’t need to for whatever reason. You just wanted his arms around you, spinning you this way and that, lifting you in time with the music that had your stomach doing somersaults that tickled.

He felt the same, your laughter had his heart soaring, the smile on your face shooting Cupid’s arrows right through his heart. He tripped and stumbled every so often, but it was all worth it if it meant you were having a good time.

The two of you finally stopped to take a break, the moon high in the sky. You pulled him towards the river once again, the cool air there was bound to cool you off. 

You sat down in the grass, pulling him down with you as you laughed at his startled expression.

“Well I’d say you did quite well with dancing!”

“Oh do you really? Even with all my fumbles?”

“Eh, you just added a few new steps!”

“A few new steps she says!” He barked out a laugh, tears gathering in his eyes, your own giggles twisting into his like sweet music. 

Your laughter died out naturally, the music of crickets and rushing water kept you company, the drums from the music thumping distantly. He leaned back, looking up to the sky, you followed suit, your shoulder pressed against his as you pointed up at the stars.

“I think I’ll draw a new image in the stars. Just for tonight” You traced the shape with your fingers, Izuku mirroring your actions to see if he could get the shape.

“And, what are you going to call this new one?”

“Hmm…I’m not sure yet. It’s a process” 

Your brow furrowed as you thought, the thoughts clear in your eyes, oh he was hopeless.

You jumped slightly at the feel of his hand cupping your jaw. His eyes were full of an emotion you couldn’t name, but it set your skin ablaze.

“I’ve had a great time tonight” you murmur, eyes wide and watching. What was he going to do?

“I have too,” he matched your volume, thumb idly stroking your cheek gently.

“I’ve actually thought about this for a while, but I was…afraid to ask you, in case I somehow ruined our friendship. But…the thing is (Y/N), I know our friendship is strong enough to withstand that. I want more than a friendship with you, I…I want to be with you all the time. I wanna be there on your good days, bad days, those days where everything and nothing are going on at once, I want it all,” he took a deep breath, steadying his shaking limbs and resolving his nerves.

“What do you say (Y/N)? Be my Love?” 

Your eyes had watered considerably, your own hand holding his, you couldn’t help but nod.

“I was starting to think that my feelings were one sided,” you laughed, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I would love nothing more than to be yours” 

He leaned into your space, so carefully, his hand gently pulling you closer until your lips met his, soft and warm, just like yours. You slowly pulled back, only to be gently pulled back in again, over and over until you were used to one another’s rhythm, kisses becoming slower and longer.

His tongue softly asked for entrance, and you readily allowed him access. He tasted of the sweet drink that had been served, goosebumps raised along your skin as he leaned you backwards into the grass, his eyes half lidded as adoration danced along the pinks of his cheeks. 

He was careful not to press you too hard into the ground as he kissed you again, your tongues dancing as your hand gripped the hair at the base of his skull. The groan that rumbled through his chest and that particular rough pass of his lips had your toes curling.

He parted from you again, staring at your kiss bruised lips, wet and so inviting looking, moving slowly towards your (E/C) colored eyes, finding the same emotion fluttering in his heart. Carefully he sat up, you following after him with a smile on your face. You sat together, curled into one another as you watched the stars.

It had been four years since that Solstice, the two of you now adults. A year or two after becoming lovers, Izuku had finally found someone to train him into becoming a knight, a real hero. It meant that you would see him less, but he would always write to you when he could.

You were saddened at the news, but also so proud. Finally after all these years, his dream was coming true. He promised you that he would always come back to you, that once he had become a knight, able to help you build your own healing stand in the main city, He’d properly ask you to marry him. You knew he always kept his promises, one way or another. 

How could you deny him his dream? You couldn’t truthfully.

That brought you here, scratching out another day along the tally you made. Only a few more days until Izuku came back. You helped your father run the shop now, almost fully taking over as the village healer. 

You braced the day with a smile as the regulars came in, the usual ointments for Mrs.Tachibana, some medicine to the mother of some poor twins who had caught some sickness during the seasons change to spring, a wooden spoon covered in semi-crystalized honey for the wailing babe, their teeth slowly but surely coming in.

The morning rush could hardly be considered as such, your doors opening right at the first peak of dawn. You waved off the last of the morning patrons in no time at all.

You bend down to grab a few herbs, mixing something to help soothe Mr.Yamada’s vocal chords. You hear the door push open, pulling you from your line of thought, your eyes meeting bright green.

“Izuku!” you cry, rushing over to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug you could manage. He’d grown so much taller than you last remembered- well just bigger in general!

He’d bulked up considerably- he joked he wanted to get better at giving hugs along with being a Knight- and was now a full two heads taller than you. You only pull back to place your hands on his jaw, pulling him down to kiss you properly.

“Did I surprise you?” he laughed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

“Yes! You weren’t due back for a few more days! Oh I’m so happy your home!” You stood back up on your toes to press more kisses to his face. “Tell me everything!”

He told you all about the training he went through- hell as he called it, eyes looking back with a slight fondness that only nostalgia could bring- the antics he and some other knights in training had gotten into. His teacher, Aizawa, was a hard man, but ultimately soft hearted in his own way. He couldn’t wait for you to meet the friends he had made, and you were excited to see them.

“I have heard some…other things though” he hesitated, leaning against the counter as you finished Mr.Yamada’s medicine, the yellow glow from your hands dimming until it was no more. “In the city they’re telling stories of witches…and not good ones either.” you hummed in agreement, concern laced into your features.

You’d heard of rumors of witches in nearby towns and villages. At first, nothing was seemingly worrisome about it. So some covens had decided to announce their place in the world, big deal.

Until the rumors had become something dark. Stories of sacrifices, hexes and curses upon innocent bystanders, children. Soon there were rumors of witches in every town, every village.

“Even the people here have started to become…nervous” beforehand, the villagers not a part of your coven had nothing to fear from you, you’d never given them any reason to. But these new witches, witches that were said to be everywhere, brought fear into your community. 

“I’m worried Izuku, they’ve started burning people in the next few towns…I’m not sure what we could do, a show of our magic could scare them into a frenzy, but not doing anything could be just as bad. They even have a witch hunter!” you set down the pestle gently, Izuku taking your hand in his.

“I’m worried too. But for right now, the best we can do is wait and see how things go. No matter what, I’ll always be here, you won’t go through this alone.” your heart fluttered warmly at his words, pressing a kiss to his hand.

The next few days did little to raise or diminish your worries. You walked about the village, showing him what all had changed in his absence, ignoring the stares of the same village girls that had teased your dress all those years ago. 

It wasn’t until the third week that had changed. Even that morning, the dew felt strung and the air was hot and still. Your father had asked you the night before to gather some lavender from the fields in the morning, he was running low on stock.

The two of you agreed, baskets in hand you walked to the fields. 

The breeze began to pick up as you climbed up the hills, the sweet scent dancing around you as you looked up into your lovers eyes.

“Is it just me, or have the lavender fields gotten smaller?” he joked, sitting beside you as you carefully snipped away at the plant, making sure to cut the stalk specifically so the flower could regrow. 

“No, I think you’ve just gotten taller.” You mused, handing him the stalks to carefully separate the leaves and the flowers themselves. 

It was a tense silence as you worked, though you couldn’t tell what was on his. On yours however, was the frequent news of witches being killed. But not only witches, but innocent people as well, for the slightest and most ridiculous thing. Spoiled milk, your neighbor suddenly falling ill after accidentally tripping over your shoe? 

These people wouldn’t know a witch if one kicked them in the ass.

“I think,” Izuku startled you from your thoughts, “It would be best if tonight, you and your family leave with me. At least until all of this calms down.” There would be no reasoning with the public, not with the mass hysteria and distrust of everyone.

“I would agree, but papa would never give up his shop, we’ve been there for years, generations even” you handed him a few more stalks. 

“We’ll have to convince him somehow. I had hoped things would die down, considering the evidence and logic-”

“Since when have the masses and logic ever seen eye to eye?” you quip back, brow raised into bittersweet amusement.

“Since never, but I had hoped…Well It doesn’t really matter what I’d hoped. What I’m thinking now is, I write to my fellow knights in training for help. To help move your coven safely” He started to mumble, various questions littering his mind, how fast could a letter get there? 

Their letters had been casual, while important, they weren’t of any dire emergency. Would his friends believe him? No of course they would, once he proved to them the logic of things. The masses may not be so…sensitive to logic, but his fellow knights were not the masses.

It takes you until sunset to gather enough petals to fill the basket, though the two of you were hardly in any hurry. You walked back to the village, the tense air having loosened just ever so slightly.

All the relaxation the lavender provided was gone the second black smoke was visible over the hill. Lavender forgotten, you ran to the village, the smoke billowing from two stakes. You raced down the hill, passing the well.

No…No gods please no!

On one stake was the remnants of your mother, her eyes open towards the sky as her body drew no more breath. Beside her was your father, eyes closed. A cry of rage and sorrow rang loose, distant from your ears as strong, familiar arms wrapped around you. You screamed and kicked, clawed at his arms. Your throat felt raw as you cried, eyes looking for someone, anyone to blame.

You’d only heard descriptions of him, hairdo pale it was blue, with eyes as red as the blood of innocents he condemned- Tomura Shigaraki.

“Let their souls be cleansed of this evil, so they may find rest at the side of the great one, All for One” his voice was horrid, nasal and cruel, the imagery of snakes filling the back of your mind. He didn’t believe a word he was saying, so evident by the snarl at his lip he called a smile, twisted pleasure saturating his eyes.

“Ah, the main event has arrived!” he snapped his fingers motioning towards you and Izuku, his guards making their way over to you.

One man pulled you from Izuku’s grasp, two men grabbing Izuku by the arms. He swore, headbutting one of the guards, kicking back on the others shin. “You let go of her!” he growled, another pair tackling him down to the ground to restrain him.

“You evil, wicked thing! How dare you kill these innocent people, how dare-” you shrieked and shrieked as you struggled against your captor, another guard capturing your other arm.

“You may struggle now witch! The evil within fights back! But don’t worry, you’ll soon be cleansed.”

Despite your struggles, the both of you are taken into one of the old jails, hidden underground.

The place was dusty from lack of use, the packed earth against the stone kept it cool. You were leaned up against the bars, Izuku leaning against the same ones across from you. He couldn’t hold you like he wanted, the bars too small for anything else but his hands.

“I should have thought about this harder…I should have made a plan sooner” he murmured, breaking the silence. “If I hadn’t wasted time, then maybe-”

“Don’t” your voice was clipped and harsh. You hadn’t meant to be, regret adding to the myriad of emotions pulsing around your broken heart. “Mum and Papa wouldn’t want you to…to talk like that.” you wipe a tear as best as you can, your hand reaching to find his again.

“It’s no one’s fault but that damned Shigaraki” you hiss, “ He’s the witch hunter. He’s selling the world a story and they’re all buying it.” you could feel his lips pressed against your forehead. You shift so you are on your knees, holding onto the bars for balance, you kiss him, deeply, trying to memorize the taste of him one last time. 

You stay like that, murmuring sweet nothings to one another, for who knows how long. You only know that it is all too soon when they open the doors again, dragging you out to the stake. Izuku struggles against the guards as they force him into a kneeling position beside Shigaraki.

Your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you struggle against your bonds. What you wouldn’t give to become the witch they so feared, maybe then your parents would be alive. Maybe then you and your betrothed would have a chance of surviving.

The fire starts all too quickly, Izuku’s agonized screams of horror sharp in your mind as tears run down your cheeks. Your last image of him couldn’t be of his eyes filled with hopelessness. 

“I love you Izuku! I love you so much, We’ll be together again I swear it-”

“Silence Witch! Your spells have no power here!”

You ignored them, screaming louder, a cool burning sensation wrapping around the ring finger of your left hand, “I will find you! I don’t care how long it takes, we will be together!”

“I love you (Y/N)!” he cries back, a cool burning sensation around his left ring finger was left unnoticed. He was focused entirely on you. Until his world went black.

The guard righted himself, adjusting his hands behind his back, Izuku sat there, his head tilted forward, unconscious. Your heart finally severed, the only explanation for the black ink that spilled from it, tainting all in its path. The wind howled as a sudden storm raged above you, hair twisting this way and that, fueled by the wild look in your eyes, satisfaction found within the fear of Shigaraki’s red irises.

Your magic wasn’t made for curses or hexes. But with your heart broken, the once golden light of your magic turned vengeful, bubbling and vicious. Even as the smoke rose, your voice boomed across the village.

“May your days be numbered!” the crowd gasped, your voice multiplied, as if thousands were speaking at once, your eyes roaming across all of those who had cheered for you and your parents demise, of all those who died before you.

“May your last passing hours be filled with my ghostly visage, as all your loved ones choke on my ashes they thought long swept away! May you die in fear, knowing your bloodline will end with your hatred!” 

The smoke from your pyre weaved around the guilty villagers, more thickly located around Shigaraki and his group. Your vision was turning spotty, but you didn’t care, you weren’t done. If you had to die, you were going out on your own terms.

“To those of you who survive, may you always see my shadow at the end of your beds as you sleep! May your Children curse your name! For your evil, your wickedness! For your Injustice!”

The storm raged on, even as you choked your last breath, your vision turning dark.

I’ll be with you soon my love…

.X.

.X.

.X.

.X.

You blinked, your eyes wet with unshed tears as you glanced around the room, your friends, Ochaco, Iida, and Todoroki were all behind you, looking at you with wide eyes. Next to you sat your boyfriend of two years, now in your third year at UA. His eyes were also wet, slowly turning to gaze towards you.

You had all decided to go to the fair that had opened up. Towards the end of your merriment, you spotted a fortune teller of a sort, and decided to go inside. Everything had been fairly light hearted and fun, until the two of you sat down for your turn. The fortune teller was shocked, the past had something important for you to see, and by all that was good you were going to see it.

You looked down at the promise ring Izuku bought you. It burned with the same cool sensation as you remembered…saw past you. It felt like…a small part of you had been unlocked, as if some part of you had been missing for all of these years.

“We found each other after all”

He gave you a gentle smile, one you returned.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-bard]

4, 12, 30 ☺️✨💖

4 what flower would you like to be given?

ok I answered that already but I want to tell you some little fun facts about me: I love flowers since I can remember and I have so many anecdotes about that

my first story i was allowed free reign on the content i wrote about how the blue hyacinth gifted the sky its blue color and stayed white thereafter (until the sky cried happy/grateful tears and now there are blue and white hyacinths). may I remind you that i was approximate 7 at the time of conception and still think about this story every time i see that flower???

my first own blooming flower was a deep, fiery red clematis I was allowed to put onto my mums balcony (I had to care for her myself and bought her myself and she got the prime sunshine place) I was so proud cause she looked like a little fire ranking in the sun and even tho mum would not have chosen her she was won over after that summer

i ate daisies as a toddler sometimes cause the blossoms are edible and as i was allowed to i just went all-in

you can drink the nectar of the yellow archangel (dont quote me on the name of that flower - it looks like the correct one but i could be wrong) and i once drank like half a walk through the woods worth of nectar with my BFF - he was also balls to the walls at times ... good company lmao

my mum always gets me a red amaryllis for my birthday cause its one of the only red flowers in December

EDIT: i found the flowers i searched for :D Peruvian lillies and lantana flowers are my favorites to get gifted omgg

12 how are you?

Tumblr bullied me a bit and today was a day my sleepless weekend crashed all over me (i am bone-deep tired hhh use the sleep y'all its worth it) but answering these asks made me happy :DD

30 what reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?

the soft, self-colored yellow/orange wallpaper, black tea with milk (lacking bergamot!!) for any occasion, the smell of self-made bread rolls baking in the oven (that you helped shape), blackbirds and tits chirping outside of the open window, wind rustling in the trees, eating warm shortbread, baking butter cookies, and coming home after a snow fight so you have to get out of your outer layers on the stairs in front of the open apartment door ... reading stories by candlelight while drinking that one specific tea with honey and milk

[nelllraiser]

garlic dread | milo & nell

TIMING: the middle of spring, before the portals opened. PARTIES: @wickedmilo & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: milo just wants to help nell with her plants, but nell has other plans.

With spring coming into its prime, Nell’s garden had been thriving in addition to her greenhouse. During the time she’d been struggling to pay off her hospital debt, watching the numbers of new flowers in her garden dwindle had been one of the hardest cutbacks, the blooms and otherwise being one of her simpler joys in life. But now that her father had paid off the hospital without the witch’s permission, it meant that she was able to spend a little more money than usual on some new little plants and the like. Which was how she found herself walking home with a plethora of green and leafy friends in her arms, barely able to see over the lot of them as she made her way out of the plant nursery. She was nearly out of eyeshot from the other townies— which meant she was only steps away from being able to freely use her magic when another person caught the corner of her eye. Where the hell had he come from? She was instantly annoyed despite the fact that the young man couldn’t have any inkling of his unintentional meddling. Hopefully with any luck he’d disappear soon enough of his own accord, and then she’d be able to hover her new plants home with minimal effort. Another look towards the guy had her brow scrunching up in thought. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place why.

Milo wasn’t sure he would ever get used to smelling people before he saw them. It was a strange, and uncomfortable instinct. Usually he discovered he wasn’t alone through sight, or through sound. The regular ways. But when the fresh scent of vegetation and potted soil managed to reach him on the evening breeze, he glanced upwards, curious to see where it was coming from. There was a woman on the other side of the road, walking towards him with her arms full. He could only assume she was an avid gardener, nobody else would buy quite so much when they knew they needed to carry it home. For a while, he was too distracted by her plants to pay any real attention to her face, but as she grew closer he began to recognise her from high school. What was her name? Was it Penelope? He felt sure it was, but he also had a feeling nobody ever actually called her that. Jeez, it was so difficult remembering back on a time where he had barely been present. Always high, or on the verge of inebriation. If somebody wasn’t his friend, they faded away almost immediately after graduation. Regardless, it felt rude not to offer his help. He had been meeting so many people from his past, as of late. This could be an opportunity to make a new friend, somebody who didn’t know what a mess he was. “Hey!” He called from where he was standing across the road, there were no cars, so he knew she would have no trouble hearing him. “Any chance you want some help?” 

Highschool maybe? Was it highschool that she knew him from? Nell didn’t really want to ask, not when she was trying to hurry home, and get this guy out of her hair so that she could get her magic up and going. “Yeah- no thanks,” she dropped her reply quickly, taking on a fairly dismissive tone, hoping he’d catch the hint and leave her alone. Still...it was nagging her that she couldn’t place his face. It was definitely from highschool, but she’d had barely a handful of friends back then, and everyone else knew well enough to just leave her alone. Even though the normies couldn’t have known she was actually a witch, that didn’t stop the age-old fear of things they didn’t understand from settling in when it came to Nell Vural.

At first, they’d been taught it by their parents at the hands of a disastrous childhood birthday party where a kindergarten aged Nell had accidentally summoned a swarm of Wolpertingers out of her birthday cake. From then on, all it’d taken for her schoolmates to avoid her was a couple of violent altercations born of shitty people and her temper, and a few more mystic incidents for them to steer clear and whisper behind her back. But they’d had no problems coming to her when they wanted something more salacious, hook-ups underneath and bleachers and in empty classrooms. Apparently it had been fine enough to screw the creepy magic girl, just not get on her nerves or be her friend.

Milo faltered as Penelope turned down his offer, both surprised and irritated by the way she casually brushed him off. He was trying to be friendly, not to mention the fact that he recognised her from high school. She had every right to say no, of course. But he felt like he had decent grounds to be annoyed. If anything, it was an opportunity for good company, a mutual opportunity. Crossing the road without looking, confident he would hear any cars if they got too close, he raised his eyebrows at her. “I’m going to assume you have no idea who I am.” He half teased. “But I swear I’m not a creeper about to follow you home. Come on, let me help.” He gestured to the plants in her arms, knowing he didn’t need to point out how overwhelmed she was by her load. “I’m trying this new thing where I’m not an asshole, you know? This would really help my credibility.” 

Nell. The name came back to him suddenly, along with the reputation she had once managed to build for herself. He had stayed largely out of her way, watching her arguments in the corridor from afar, listening when people whispered about her while making no move to acknowledge the rumours. Honestly, anybody willing to say ‘fuck you’ to societal standards and enjoy sex for what it was had his respect. But it made him wonder why he had never gotten to know her back then. Given what was so often said, she seemed very much like his kind of person. Had she changed since? He definitely had, in more ways than one. “Nell, right?” He asked, unable to help himself. “It’s Milo… Summers. I used to hang around with Kyle.” He had no idea whether she even knew who Kyle was, but given they had both spent most of their days filling the boy’s bathroom with smoke, he figured she had probably heard of him.

To be honest, Nell didn’t entirely mind if some random guy from highschool got caught in the crossfire of her impatience— especially when she was over eager to get home, and get her plants all settled in. Was it rude? Probably. Would she ever see the guy again, and did she really care when she hadn’t even known him well enough to properly attach a name to face? Probably not. She simply raised a brow as he confirmed that no- she couldn’t quite place him within the confines of her highschool memories. “I’m not worried about you following me home.” It most likely wouldn’t turn out great for someone anyway if they decided to follow a girl back to the house where three witches, a reanimated corpse, and a literal demon dog lived. He was trying not to be an asshole? Why did she have to be a part of that when she just wanted to get home as fast as possible? 

Popping her mouth open to give him another denying reply bordering on rude, surprise flit over her face when he managed to remember her name— which quickly turned to intrigue as he mentioned the name Milo in conjunction with Kyle. Oh shit, this was Milo. The same Milo that had been hanging around the werewolf during the time he’d been turned. Along with his name came a few more vague memories from her school days, finally recalling him to be someone along the lines of a stoner who was often in detention. “Oh- Milo, right,” her expression instantly shifted into one that was much more open now that she realized he was actually someone she wanted to talk to. “That’s funny- I was actually just talking to Kyle the other day, and he mentioned you.” Milo didn’t need to know that it had been in the middle of Nell’s moonsitting. Ugh, she supposed this meant she should let him carry a couple things. “Sorry- I was just excited to get home.” She could be perfectly amiable when she wanted something, and she definitely wanted to know more about Kyle during his days around being bitten.

Milo could pinpoint the exact moment Nell began to realise who he was. He had no doubt in his mind her memories were vague, or based primarily on hearsay, but it would be hypocritical of that to bother him when his memories of her were the very same. “That’s me.” He agreed. “If you ever caught me in any compromising positions, now is the time to forget- you know, for the sake of my dignity.” He teased, laughing at his own joke. “I’d rather be judged on my new mistakes, of which I’m sure there will be many.” Her expression was far more open now, almost warm as she observed him, he wondered what she was thinking. It didn’t take her long to sate his curiosity. “Oh, you were?” He asked, his smile growing at the mention of his friend. He had only recently learned of Kyle’s lycanthropy, but strangely he found the knowledge comforting. He felt closer to him now than he had when they were at school together, despite seeing him then on a near daily basis. “What did he say? Good things, I hope?” Grinning easily, he glanced down at the plants still balanced in her arms. “Excited to get home because of this? Isn’t it a little late to be buying vegetation?” Holding out his arms, insisting she pass over some of her items, he caught her eye again, hoping she could see that he was trustworthy, and being sincere in his offer. “Here, come on… I swear I really do just want to help.”

Had she caught him in compromising positions? Maybe once or twice when they’d shared a detention, but highschool seemed so far away by now that sometimes it felt like an entirely different lifetime all together. “Sure- the sake of your dignity,” Nell echoed, biting off a teasing remark about how she wasn’t sure she could spare something he didn’t have. But she was going to be nice, she reminded herself. People didn’t talk to women about their werewolf friends if they thought they were an asshole. “But yeah- I just saw him right around the full moon,” she dropped casually, wondering if the phrase would trigger anything in Milo. Did he know about Kyle and his wolfy tendencies? “Honestly, it was so late when we were talking I barely even remember what we were saying,” she lied easily, not missing a beat. “But I doubt it was anything good if you’re that concerned,” she teased, testing the waters of what she could get away with. While he held out his arms, she let out an internal sigh, knowing she’d have to let him help if she wanted to get information from him. “I have a greenhouse,” she explained while carefully handing him a few of the plants, already feeling rather overprotective about letting him carry them. “It’s not too far from here.”

Milo grinned, glad Nell was willing to play along with his joke. “Much appreciated.” He replied, nodding his head with mock sincerity. But his smile quickly faltered as the conversation circled back around to Kyle. The full moon. It was such a specific thing to say. It jumped out at him, almost startling him out of his lighthearted demeanour. Did she know? He couldn’t see any other reason for her to mention the lunar cycle. So was she testing him? Trying to figure out whether he had also been trusted with the information? Hurrying to compose himself, he could only hope she hadn’t noticed his expression slip. “That’s a weird fucking way to measure time.” He teased, doing everything he could to sound casual. “Do you not own a calendar? Like a normal one, without moons on it?” Forcing a quiet laugh, he actually wouldn’t be surprised if Kyle had nothing decent to say about him. He wasn’t particularly worried, the reason they got along so well was due to that very fact. 

Feeling a strange sense of triumph when his company finally handed over some of her plants, despite not knowing much about her, he could see how much she cared for them. He made an effort to be gentle, holding them as though they were delicate, and breakable so that he wouldn’t cause any damage. Despite genuinely wanting to be of assistance, it would also help to earn her trust, and for some unknown reason, he found he really wanted to. “Define not too far?” He prompted. “Did I accidentally volunteer to walk miles with this stuff?” 

The hesitation in his smile was caught by Nell’s sharp eyes. She might not have noticed it if she hadn’t been looking for any hitch in Milo’s demeanor, but the falter was more than enough for Nell to continue her digging. “You know how White Crest is-” she began, careful to keep the levity in her words. “-always obsessed with the moon and her cycles along with ten million other weird things that wouldn’t fly in other towns. So what if my calendar has moons on it?” She didn’t need to get into the fact that Milo would be hard pressed to find a person that adored the moon more than a werewolf or spellcaster did. The two were generally unified in their waxing poetic of the big, powerful, and glowing lady in the sky. “Kyle didn’t think it was weird that I like the full moon.” Perhaps she was coming on a little too strongly, but if Milo didn’t know what she was referring to, it wouldn’t matter. Normies didn’t generally assume that any mention of the full moon and a person meant the guy in question was a werewolf. 

The greenhouse was Nell’s haven, a place that only a select group of people were allowed to enter, and she already had plans to leave Milo at the door of it once they arrived on property. “Are you gonna complain after you did this to yourself?” she teased back, her steps taking them further into the dense trees of the nearby woods. The Vural home was a part of the Outskirts and the forest that made up the less populated area. “It’s just through the woods a bit.”

Milo wanted to counter Nell’s point, to tell her she was being ridiculous, and laugh at how pretentious she sounded, like he might have once upon a time. But now he knew she was right, now he knew far too much about what happened below the surface of his sleepy, unassuming hometown, and he couldn’t bring himself to disagree. “Said you and every other tumblr girl obsessed with astrology.” He muttered, figuring that would have to be enough. If he abruptly dropped his teasing then she would notice, he knew she would. “Maybe Kyle is also a tumblr girl obsessed with astrology.” He countered, his mind still working to process the strange words leaving Nell’s mouth. It all felt calculated somehow, as though she was carefully choosing them to elicit some form of reaction. But what did she want from him? What was she expecting him to say?

“Oh, I complain no matter what.” He insisted. “Did Kyle not tell you? It’s one of my more favourable traits.” He followed her as she led him into the forest, wondering where her house was located. He only knew the houses in town, and maybe a few of the buildings on the outskirts. He felt stupid for not realising some people needed to walk through wooded areas to get to their homes. “It’s just through the woods a bit sounds like the last thing somebody hears before they’re murdered.” He pointed out, offering her a smile over the plants in his arms so that she would know he wasn’t being serious. Besides, he had already been murdered once. Surely that lowered his chances of being murdered for a second time. That or he had the worst luck in the history of mankind. “You aren’t luring me out here to kill me, are you?” 

Nell’s eyes rolled seemingly without command, all too used to being compared to the cottagecore girls that love to emulate spellcaster culture and teachings. The humans loved to play pretend until a real witch was staring them in the face, and they realized their fear of the unknown outweighed their desire for crystal and starry aesthetics. Subtly was not her aim while she continued on, wondering if she could simply pressure Milo into revealing whether he knew Kyle’s secret or not. “That’s why you think Kyle has a glowing moon lamp on his wall? He’s a tumblr girl? I wouldn’t be surprised if I caught him howling at it one day,” she finished with a laugh, still waiting to see whether Milo would connect the dots. 

“Kyle told me lots of things,” Nell answered cryptically, having quickly abandoned her ‘nice girl’ act. Not that she wasn’t being nice anymore, just that she was letting more of her edge shine through. After all, fear could be a decent motivator as well. Of course she wasn’t actually here to murder the young man. She just wanted to know more about the time Kyle had been turned. With a laugh she shot Milo a coy look over her shoulder before answering his next question. “Oh no, I’m out of the human sacrifice phase right now.” It’d only been once that she’d spilled a human’s blood for magic, and she’d do it again if the situation was as dire, but for the most part she had no interest in taking human lives in exchange for magical power. 

Milo laughed, unable to help himself. “I’ve never been to Kyle’s place so I have zero knowledge of moon lamps. I have, however, seen them advertised on Instagram, so it still fits with the aesthetic.” Keeping his expression neutral at the mention of howling, it was becoming very obvious to him that Nell knew Kyle was a werewolf. He almost wanted to ask her how she knew, but if he admitted to also knowing then he would come very close to outing himself as a part of the supernatural world. Nell wasn’t his friend, this was the most they had ever spoken, so he refused to willingly make himself vulnerable. Raising his eyebrows in a show of polite interest, despite attempting to seem casual, his gaze was sharp, watching Nell for any sign or tell that might imply she was aware of his ‘undead’ status.

“He did?” He asked, almost daring her to tell him what was said. Surely Kyle wouldn’t have confided in her like that. There seemed to be an unspoken rule among the people he had met so far; you never told somebody else what a person was if you didn’t have permission to do so. Maybe there were exceptions to the rule, things he didn’t understand just yet, but he trusted Kyle not to out him. In the same way he hoped Kyle knew he could be trusted not to tell people he was a werewolf. “Hm, good to know.” He muttered in response to the joke on human sacrifice. He was glad they were able to move back into familiar territory. He enjoyed teasing, he was good at teasing. And it carried them further away from both Kyle’s predicament, and his own. “Because I’m sure I’d be a pretty useless sacrifice. Whatever demon you worship would probably send me back and ask for a working replacement.” 

“Really? It sounded like you were good friends the way he told it,” Nell commented smoothly, not actually having all that much interest in the closeness of their friendship at the moment, but figuring she should at least pretend. But her patience was wearing thin, and either Milo knew what she was speaking of or he didn’t. So with a huff and turn of her heel, she would have folded her arms over her chest if she hadn’t been holding the plants. Fixing Milo with her hardest stare, she carried on nonetheless. “Look- you either know what I’m talking about or you don’t. So just tell me if you know or not, and then we can move on.” If he thought her weird and demanding he wouldn't be the first, and most certainly not the last, but she didn’t really care about the opinion a random person from highschool might form from this interaction as long as she got to ask the questions she wanted answers to. 

“He sure did,” Nell replied with the beginnings of a smirk, giving Milo nothing when he seemed determined to do the same. Let him wonder at what Kyle had shared. Maybe he’d reveal too much by asking his own questions. “Why? Were you worried he said something about you?” It was a stab in the dark, and she had no real reason to think Milo might be worried about things he’d rather keep private. But she knew most people had something they wanted to hide. Milo most likely wouldn’t be an exception. She let him laugh at what he perceived to be a joke, waiting with a natural face until he was done, making no effort to join in. “I’m glad you thought it was funny. Demons don’t work like that, though.” Still, she was somewhat amused that he'd managed to stumble onto the demon portion of her magic. Not that he knew that.

They were close to the Vural property now, and the moonlight could be seen glittering on the glass of her greenhouse in the backyard of the house as the woods began to open up. 

“We were.” Milo clarified. “Way back when we were at school. I ran into him the other day but… that was the first time in years.” He couldn’t understand why Nell was taking such an interest, but every word out of her mouth seemed to set him more on edge. There had to be an ulterior motive here, only he couldn’t understand what it might be. His eyes widening as she suddenly decided to take a direct approach, one he definitely hadn’t been expecting, his step faltered. He wasn’t able to hide his surprise, but he did everything he could to compose himself quickly. A few beats of silence passed before he managed to find his words again, and he knew it was essentially too late. But if he admitted he knew what Kyle was, he admitted to knowing about the supernatural. That was one step too close to her realising he was a part of that world too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped. “And you’re being really fucking weird.” He gripped at her plants, angry at himself for offering to carry them. If his hands were free he would be able to walk away from this, remove himself from the situation. 

Glaring at his company, his chest tightening at her words, he wondered whether Kyle really had told her what he was. For all he knew, she hated vampires. Maybe she really did intend to kill him out here in the middle of nowhere. Who knew of his location? Nobody, and he didn’t have time to shoot anyone a text. If he disappeared now, he disappeared forever. Only Nell would ever know what happened to him. The thought caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. “Why should I be worried?” He demanded, kicking at brush, and brambles as he passed through them. “Forgive me for not knowing how demons work.” He added, more convinced than ever that this might actually be the end for him. Surely she wouldn’t risk hurting her plants though. At least he had that. She needed to wait until he put them down, and then he could reevaluate the situation. Maybe even make a break for it. 

“Really? Why’d you guys lose touch?” Did it have to do with the whole werewolf thing? Nell continued to pry, her nosiness knowing now bounds as she tried to learn more about Kyle around the time he was bitten. If she understood him and his control then, maybe it would help with teaching him control now. The second show of surprise on his face only made the witch feel even more confident about her choice to confront him, even if he wasn’t giving anything specific away. She supposed if there was one thing to be said about Milo— it was that he was loyal. Which was unfortunate for her in this situation. Still, it was good that Kyle had friends who wouldn’t easily out him. Not that she should care about Kyle and whether his friends were suitable. His snappy response had her lips pursing, her temper flaring for a moment even though she knew she’d been the cause of Milo’s new shortness. “And you’re being really fucking rude.”  She was used to being called weird, and though she’d set herself up for it, the word still held the gravity of all the times she’d been ostracized for being ‘weird’ while growing up— especially when coming from the mouth of an old classmate. “But if you wanna be a little shit about it, be my guest.”

She rolled her eyes at his comment about demons, no longer interested in curbing her words or being overtly nice now that it seemed he wasn’t going to give her any information. Nell hadn’t meant the words in a correctional way. They’d been more along the lines of informational. “Maybe you should be worried cause you’re acting exactly how people who have secrets would act.” Finally they’d arrived at her greenhouse, and she set her own plants on the ground so she could raise a charmed key to the door. If Milo hadn’t been here she would have used her magic to undo the lock that would respond only to her magical signature, but it’s be difficult to explain such a thing away. “You can put the plants down now,” she commented dryly, suddenly eager to get rid of the guy.

“We used to smoke in the bathrooms at school together. That’s not exactly something you keep doing after you graduate.” Milo pointed out. Not every friendship had a foundation strong enough to last. He knew Kyle because they shared a passion for breaking trivial school rules, and often wound up in the same detentions. Spending time together because you were essentially running on a schedule wasn’t quite the same as actively arranging to stay in contact. He was incredibly glad he had run into Kyle outside of the university, more than grateful considering Kyle was a part of his terrifying new world. But had they not crossed paths again, reaching out probably wouldn’t ever have crossed his mind. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that. “I’m being rude for pointing out you’re being weird?” He asked. “That’s bullshit.” Maybe he should feel guilty for being so cold, it was very possible Nell had good intentions. But until he knew for sure, he wasn’t giving in. And if he genuinely didn’t know about Kyle then this defensive anger would be coming very naturally to him. “I’m not being a little shit about anything, you’re the one demanding information I don’t fucking have.” 

Narrowing his eyes as Nell came to a halt in front of the door to a greenhouse, he couldn’t exactly tell her she was wrong. He did have secrets. But then again, so did everybody. He definitely wasn’t alone in that fact. “Or maybe you’re projecting.” He countered, though he had no reason to believe she was. Watching as she opened the door, it suddenly struck him that a greenhouse might count as a part of her private dwelling. There was little chance of him being able to set the plants down inside if she didn’t first invite him in. He wasn’t sure whether she would be content with him putting them down on the floor, so he hovered awkwardly in the doorway, realising after a few moments had passed that she really wasn’t about to invite him inside. Despite him carrying her plants for her, despite him trying to make polite conversation. He had only been met with a confrontational attitude, and apparently now a distinct lack of thanks. Finally putting down the plants in his arms, lining them up beside the doorway he was trapped in, when he straightened up again, he was more than ready to shoot his company a glare. “What?” He demanded, unable to help himself. “You really aren’t going to invite me in?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking rude,” Nell shot back, her own temper stoked by the appearance of Milo’s. “You think you can just go around calling people weird?” It was more the principle of the matter than anything, the fact that Milo seemingly thought he had a right to call her names and get away with it. She snorted at his claim of ignorance, still not entirely sold when it came to him knowing nothing. “I’m asking, you’re the one getting all offended about it. Which makes you a little shit,” she replied snarkily, a smugness entering her voice. 

A roll of Nell’s eyes, and she was fixing him with a withering glare from inside her greenhouse. “I don’t give a shit about people knowing stuff about me.” Or at least she specifically didn’t really mind if someone knew she was a witch. In honesty she thought it beneficial that people knew of her power. If people knew she and her sisters had power, they’d be less likely to mess with them. As for the more personal feelings in her life- those were the things she was bad at sharing, and letting people in on. She might have thanked him if she’d wanted his help in the first place, but now she wasn’t all that keen on giving him the satisfaction. At first she was pleased, and now surprised that he hadn’t walked into her greenhouse of his own accord. Had the guy finally decided to show some manners? The choice of his words were rather specific, and had her head cocking to the side with intrigue. He wanted her to invite him in? Arranging her new plants on a nearby worktable, a bulb of garlic caught her eye, and a flicker of connection fired in her brain. Well...there was only one way to find out if her newest suspicion was anything of substance. With a quick and easy flick of her wrist, she launched the garlic towards Milo without warning, savoring the flash of satisfaction she felt from the childish move. “No- I don’t think I will.”

“I mean, if they’re being weird then I don’t see an issue with it.” Milo countered, an edge to his voice to match the edge in Nell’s voice. He wasn’t exactly sure how they had ended up where they were but as far as he was concerned, she was entirely to blame. Maybe if she hadn’t pushed him, maybe if she wasn’t so desperate to talk about Kyle. “I’m not getting offended.” He added, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to wait in the doorway. “I’m getting annoyed, there’s a distinct fucking difference.” Letting out a huff of breath, he didn’t care how she felt about people knowing her information. Even if she was projecting, he was hardly interested in learning her secrets. They were probably more akin to which manure makes the best fertilizer, anyway. Something he would be more than happy to tell her. 

In fact, he was in the process of opening his mouth to do so when he was distracted by her suddenly, and very pointedly throwing an object at him. Instinctively, he reached up to cover his face. But it wasn’t until the object hit him that he was able to discern what it was. If his body’s reaction to the plant wasn’t enough to give it away, the scent was very nearly overwhelming. It was a bulb of garlic. An actual bulb of garlic. Who even grew their own? He couldn’t understand why Nell would go to the effort when you could literally buy it pre-crushed in jars. Immediately feeling a jolt of disorientation, he scrambled to bat it away, fangs protruding, eyes flashing red as the skin it made contact with began to sting. “What the fuck?” He demanded, righting himself to stare at Nell with open disbelief. He wasn’t sure whether she had chosen the garlic on purpose, or accidentally stumbled upon what he was, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew there was no point in trying to hide from her. Not now. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He raised his voice, his indignation only growing as he was given time to fully process what had happened. “Did you just- you just threw garlic at me!” 

You really aren’t going to invite me in? Milo’s words were thrown into clarity as she watched the flash of his fangs appear, and his apparent aversion for the plant became clear. “You’re a vampire.” Nell’s words weren’t so much a question as a means of telling him she’d seen the changes, and put the earlier and smaller hints together that she hadn’t thought to put as much stock in. Her stance took on an even more guarded pose, not knowing Milo well enough to feel confident in making a judgment on whether he was a vampire more along the lines of someone like Harsh, or someone more murderous or bloodthirsty. Either way she certainly wasn’t going to be inviting him into her greenhouse now. The witch’s arms folded across her chest, cocking her hip to the side as she gave the young man a thorough up and down, sizing him up in that same way she used to measure threats in the Ring. “So that’s why you were being so squirrely?” Did Milo being a vampire mean he was more likely to know of Kyle’s werewolf status?

“No shit. What gave it away?” Milo bit out, brushing himself down as he retracted his fangs, making a point of continuing to glare at Nell. He watched her as she shifted to take a more guarded stance, one that made it clear she was now actively scrutinizing him. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, but he felt himself shrink a little under her gaze regardless. It was impossible to know what she was capable of, it was impossible to know what anybody in White Crest was capable of. Though he wasn’t exactly holding a torch for self preservation, if she decided to attack, his only real option would be to run. So he opted to stay where he was for now, awkwardly rubbing at his wrist where it had come into contact with the garlic. All he could do was stay silent, and hope she wasn’t trying to figure out where best to plunge a wooden stake. His skin was no longer stinging but the ghost of the feeling was there, he tried not to let it distract him. “I wasn’t being squirrely. Fuck you. You’re the one asking weirdly specific questions about somebody who isn’t even here!” He pointed out, indignant in the face of the accusation. “I know why, by the way. You’re not being subtle.” 

Nell didn’t hesitate to return Milo’s glare, still not even entirely certain how they’d gotten to this point in the first place. Maybe she’d pushed too hard, but that wasn’t anything new for her. It was another one of the many reasons people in highschool had avoided the witch. There weren’t many people who took kindly to her abrasive personality, and it had been even more extreme back in those days. “Well most vampires walk like they have a stick up their ass so that was probably it.” Sorry Harsh. She made the mental apology to her friend, not actually believing the words, but wanting some childish way to retort Milo’s snark. Nell didn’t actually have anything against vampires so long as they weren’t witch hunters like Miriam, or lacked control in a way that made them a constant and active threat to others. “You were being squirrely. Basically dancing around my questions and shit, and getting all uppity.” Her eyes rolled again. “I gave up trying to be subtle about fifteen minutes ago, I’m not stupid enough to come on that strongly without being aware of it.” She’d learned that well enough through her time as a monster catcher and bounty hunter. “So you know Kyle’s a werewolf, then.” At least they’d gotten it out in the open. “Did you know when he was changed?” Now she could ask her questions point-blank.

Milo let out a huff of breath. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever thought maybe that’s just the vampires having to deal with you?” He countered. He wasn’t sure how they had managed to go from a genuine conversation to what could almost be considered an argument. But he wasn’t about to back down, it wasn’t in his nature. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure she wanted him to. “Because you were trying to get me to out a friend!” He explained, wondering whether she might be able to understand his reasoning, maybe even appreciate it. She had made it relatively clear she knew what Kyle was, but she could have been using him to get confirmation, to go behind his back. He would never forgive himself if he gave information to the wrong person, especially information that wasn’t his to give. “Without knowing what you know, did you honestly expect me to just come out and just say it? We aren’t friends, Nell. We said like two words together throughout the whole of high school.” 

Narrowing his eyes when she brushed off his comment, insisting she hadn’t been aiming for subtlety, he waited, wondering whether she was going to say the words out loud. Say what they both knew, what he was continuing to carefully dance around. And then she did, and it was as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Yes.” He said finally. “Did he tell you that?” It still felt strange, talking about it with a stranger. The least he could do was find out whether Kyle had confided in her, or if she had somehow pried the information out of him. If he had willingly been honest with her then he would begrudgingly accept the fact that she could be trusted. “Why?” He asked, some of his anger beginning to fade away. He was curious now, more so than anything else. “Do you mean did he tell me when it first happened? Or just… do I know when it happened in like, the timeline of our lives?” 

“No it’s definitely a you problem,” Nell quipped back, unwilling to take any responsibility. “And I wasn’t trying to get you to out a friend. I was seeing if you already knew. It should have been obvious that I knew by the way I was asking- so you wouldn’t have been ‘outing’. Unless you’re too clueless to connect the dots between me talking about the moon and Kyle. You literally just said I wasn’t being subtle, though.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of them not being friends. As if she cared about something like that when it came to the random guy from highschool. 

“Yeah, we talked about it.” That’s all Milo needed to know when it came to what she and Kyle had spoken of, the deeper conversation they’d gotten into with sleep still tugging at their eyes and the sun barely glinting over the horizon on Kyle’s patio. Her stubbornness made her balk at Milo’s request for why she wanted to know, but she doubted he’d answer her questions if she wholly refused to reply to his. “I’m trying to help him,” she supplied vaguely. “And I mean the second one- do you know when it happened in his life and stuff.”

Milo narrowed his eyes, but stayed quiet, allowing Nell to answer him despite her attitude making him want to interrupt. It would be so easy to cut her off, to argue, but he held his tongue. Resisting the urge so that he could hear what she had to say to him. It didn’t take long for his patience to falter, though. For his frustration to grow exponentially. Could she really be so oblivious? “You weren’t being subtle.” He bit out. “But for all I knew you only suspected Kyle. Isn’t that the oldest fucking trick in the book? Pretending someone confided in you so that you can get information on them from the people they actually trust?” Letting out a huff of breath when his company rolled her eyes, it was everything he could do not to turn around and leave. He only had two reasons to stay. He wanted to know more about Kyle, more about Nell, about the friendship they apparently shared. And he was also incredibly confident his continued presence would annoy her. If he left now he would only be giving her what she wanted, and he was petty. Undeniably so. 

“That’s all you’re giving me?” He asked. “You talked about it?” Coming to realise she was never going to give him the information he wanted solely because she knew he wanted it, he decided to focus on what she was telling him. Or more accurately what she was asking him. “Do you think he needs help?” He hadn’t considered the fact that maybe his friend wasn’t coping. His version of support usually consisted of sharing a drink, and talking until the sun began to rise. What if Kyle needed more than that? Mechanisms that were actually considered healthy by society. He wasn’t any good with those. “Yeah, I know when it happened. I mean, obviously I didn’t at the time. I knew something was up, but it was only after seeing him again that he told me why he started acting so shady way back...” 

“Oh my god, I know I wasn’t being subtle. I literally just said that was the point- that was I was doing it on purpose.” It was becoming rather apparent that something just wasn’t aligning all that properly between Nell and Milo, and the witch was starting to wonder if perhaps they were two people who simply tended to get along like water and oil. Or maybe it was just the conversation they’d chosen. Either way, she was annoyed. She mirrored Milo’s huff, while her eyes gave yet another roll. Nell had lost count of how many times she’d done it since their conversation had begun. “You’re the one who came up to me, remember? If I was actively trying to find out if Kyle was a werewolf, I would have orchestrated some way for us to meet. Not some stupid chance thing.” She’d done it countless times while she looked for bounties. 

“I’m not telling you what we talked about,” Nell replied haughtily. It wasn’t any of Milo’s business, and it wasn’t as if she was going to tell a guy who’d only annoyed the shit out her thus far about the traumas she and Kyle had shared. “It’d be shitty when it was just for Kyle and me.” As for Kyle needing help...that was a question Nell was more willing to answer. Even though Milo was unbearable, he was Kyle’s friend. Someone that might care to help. And Kyle needed all the help he could get. But she didn’t want to outrightly expose Kyle, and she remembered how he’d wanted to set the boundary of requesting help from others. But still...she worried. “It’s...not easy adjusting to being a werewolf on your own.” That was the most specific she could get without outrightly saying he suffered with control. “He hasn’t had anyone to teach him.” She was disappointed that Milo hadn’t known at the time, but intrigued by the mention of Kyle having acted differently. “He started acting shady, how?”

Milo set his jaw. He was over Nell’s attitude, much like he suspected she was over his own. And his desire to hear what she had left to say was infuriating. Why couldn’t he just turn and leave? It should be easy to abandon their ridiculous conversation. “Yeah, I was trying to be nice. That might be a foriegn concept to you.” He snapped. It wasn’t fair that he was being blamed for how their interaction had played out. He had approached her with good intentions, it was utterly undeniable. “How am I supposed to know what he’s told you and what he hasn’t? Jeez.” He ran a hand through his hair, doing his best to expel his agitated energy. “I don’t need to know what you talked about. I think I just need to get out of here.” The longer they spoke, the more apparent it was becoming that they weren’t going to find a common ground. Maybe in another situation, under a different circumstance. But certainly not here, and certainly not right now. 

He actually turned to leave, finally finding the motivation, before Nell hesitated. He noticed it, noticed the way she faltered at his question, and it made him wonder just how much he had yet to learn about Kyle. “No shit.” He muttered, stopping in his tracks. “It isn’t easy adjusting to being a vampire either.” His heart ached at the thought of Kyle, so young and scared. But there was nothing he could do to change the past. All he could do now was focus on the future, on being there for Kyle in any way he was able. “I know how that feels.” Pushing his glasses further up his nose, his expression momentarily softening, he caught Nell’s eye. Sharing in her concern, in her obvious affection for the werewolf. “It doesn’t matter.” He brushed off her request for him to elaborate, knowing the information wasn’t important. It wouldn’t help anybody now. “Just- I don’t know, be there for him, I guess. And I’ll do the same. We don’t have to like each other.” 

Nell didn’t bother even considering that he’d claimed to be making an attempt at being nice, past the point of caring either way. And if he wanted to leave she certainly wouldn’t stop him. But then again...she hasn’t quite gotten to ask everything she’d wanted to. And though she was more than willing to try and bully the answers from him, she tried to think of Kyle— how upset he might be if he heard that she’d done her best to force answers from his friend. So she bit her tongue— quite literally digging her teeth into it in an attempt to exercise the very limited restraint she held. “Then go,” she replied, trying her best not to reignite the animosity in their conversation. 

But then Milo had to go and insinuate that...perhaps he related a little more to Kyle than not. A reluctant prickle of sympathy flickered in her gut, and she did her best to squash it down for the time being. She was already barely treading water when it came to helping Kyle, and she shouldn’t add a vampire who had proven annoying as hell to her plate. Still...maybe she’d message him later, and try and figure out just how much Milo was like Kyle. But being there for Kyle was something she could do. And despite her argument with Milo— she was glad to hear it was something he was planning on as well. “Great. Then we’ll...watch out for Kyle.” Her stubbornness and petty nature made it hard to agree with the vampire who’d been a frustration. Still...in the end Kyle was more important. With a still angry shake of her head, she watched Milo as he left the property, and waited until he was out of sight to turn back to her greenhouse. She’d bother Milo later.

[tipsycad147]

The eight Sabbats: Witch's holidays

by Michelle Gruben

Modern Pagans celebrate eight major holidays throughout the year, known as Sabbats. They are based on pre-Christian customs related to the movement of the sun. Most are related to the Celtic agricultural festivals that have given them their names.

Of course, now we know that the sun doesn’t actually move around the earth. And lots of Pagans live far away from the places where our food is grown. But the Sabbats are still a meaningful way to connect with the cycles of the seasons and of human life.

The Pagan Sabbats include the four astronomical holidays (the equinoxes and solstices) and four traditional holidays in between. Together, these eight festivals are known as the Wheel of the Year. They are observed in Wicca and Wicca-influenced forms of neo-Paganism.

Learn about the eight Witch’s holidays and some popular customs for each one:

Samhain

Probably the best-known of the Sabbats, Samhain is celebrated on October 31st. It coincides with Halloween or All Hallows Eve. Halloween is a time when even non-magickal people indulge in spooky activities and ancient superstitions. It's also the time when mainstream culture pays the most attention to the activities of Witches and Pagans.

The word Samhain comes from the Irish Gaelic word for “summer’s end.” The days have become shorter, and the darker half of the solar year is upon us. At this time, farmers would use up the remaining stores of perishable fruits and vegetables, preserving other foods to sustain them through the cold and dark season. They would also slaughter any livestock that they did not plan to feed through the winter. This is why we sometimes refer to Samhain as the Third Harvest, or Blood Harvest.

At Samhain, many people believe the boundary between the words is at its thinnest. Samhain is also known as Ancestor’s Night or the Feast of the Dead. For most Witches, Samhain is the best time to commune with the beloved dead (ancestors and honored spirits). Some also believe that lonely or angry spirits may wander the Earth on Samhain night, looking for humans to annoy.

How Pagans celebrate: For Pagans, Samhain is the beginning of the new year. It is a holiday of reflection and celebration. At Samhain, we cast off the old year’s attachments and turn our attention to the coming scarcity of winter. We feast on the last of summer’s bounty. We contemplate what is worth saving and nurturing during the dark of winter. We try to make friends with Death.

Pagans celebrate Samhain in many of the same ways muggles do: Scarfing down sweets, carving jack-o-lanterns, dressing up in costumes. We decorate with skulls and spiders and go to haunted houses. All of these Halloween traditions are too fun to miss out on—and besides, most of them have their roots in old Pagan beliefs, anyway.

If you’re invited to a Samhain ritual, you may see an ancestor altar. This is a shared altar where participants are invited to pile on their mementos and offerings for the dead. The presiding priest or priestess may invoke a deity who rules over transitions or the migration of souls—Morrighan, Hecate, or Hermes. You may participate in a meditation where you travel into the depths of the underworld, or look departed friends in the eye once more. People will speak the names of loved ones who died during the previous year, or long ago.

Feasting is a component of many Samhain rituals. When we eat sweets, we are savoring the sweetness of life and its impermanence. When we eat meat, we remember that all flesh must die and become nourishment for some creature or another.

We also use food as an offering to the dead—to communicate fond memories, to pay our respects—and perhaps, to appease hungry ghosts. Some Pagans set an extra plate at the Samhain table for spirit visitors. Another contemporary Pagan custom is the “dumb supper”—a silent meal where we invite our ancestors (both known and unknown) to come and dine with us.

Yule

Yule is the Pagan name for the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. In the Northern Hemisphere, it falls on or around December 21.

After the winter solstice, the darkest part of the year is over and the days begin increasing in length. This solar holiday is related historically to Christmas—Pagans delight in pointing out that Christians co-opted the date around the third century CE.

In the overarching neo-Pagan mythos, Yule is the birthday of the divine infant who is conceived in the spring. The dark of midwinter is the period of the Goddess’s confinement and labor as she prepares to welcome the solar child. On the longest night, the Sun God is born to the praise and gratitude of all Earth’s creatures.

How Pagans celebrate:

Yuletide is a time for passive, personal magick—for short days of work and long nights of dreaming. We set intentions and incubate our plans. It is a time of preparing mentally and spiritually for the light half of the year. Some Pagans keep a midwinter vigil, awaiting the rebirth of the sun at dawn.

It’s not often that you find large group rituals for Yule—probably because lots of Pagans are busy traveling and visiting with non-Pagan family! Instead, Yule rituals tend toward the home-y and conventional.

We decorate with evergreens and holly. We exchange gifts with friends and family. On Midwinter Eve, we light candles to herald the return of the sun. (The ambitious among us may set a Yule log blazing.) We eat traditional, calorie-rich holiday foods: Tamales, eggnog, rum cake, ham, and chocolate. We give thanks for the life-giving energy of our planet’s sun.  

Imbolc

Imbolc is a festival of purification and the early signs of spring. Imbolc is celebrated on Feb 1. (Not yet spring in most of the world, to be sure—but sometimes spring-like in Britain due to the warming influence of the Gulf Stream.) It is the first of the three Pagan fertility festivals, followed by Ostara and Beltane.

In Old Irish, Imbolc means “in the belly” and was associated with the onset of the lambing season. It was an obscure Irish folk festival until the 20th century, when neo-Pagans revived it as part of the Wheel of the Year. It coincides with the Christian festival of Candlemas and with that old farmer’s oracle, Groundhog’s Day, both observed on Feb. 2.

For our ancestors, the significance of Imbolc would have been the beginning of the ground thaw. It is the time to prepare for the planting season—to survey the land, take an inventory of tools, and make any repairs or modifications that will be needed. For the Witch, it also a time of preparation. We clean and bless our altars, and make sure that the tools of our practice are attuned to their intended use.

Mythically, Imbolc celebrates the awakening of the Goddess after giving birth to the young God at Yule. In the Earth, we observe the first stirrings of life after the frozen winter. (If you don’t know what a frozen winter looks like, ask your grandmother.)  Imbolc brings the energy of creativity and imagination. Projects that were put on hold during the holiday season start to creak into motion again. Our midwinter dreams resolve themselves into their first visible shapes.

How Pagans celebrate:

Imbolc is especially sacred to Brigid—Celtic Goddess of hearthfire, healing, the bardic arts, and smithwork. Many Imbolc rituals honor Brigid with candlelight, poems, and woven ornaments known as Brigid’s crosses. The first light of spring is evident by now, and it is an auspicious time of year for rites of cleansing, healing, and blessing.

Imbolc is a time for spiritual dedication and re-dedication. Some covens—especially women’s covens—initiate new members at Imbolc. For old Pagans, it is also a time to examine and refresh our practice. If we have become lax, Imbolc is an opportunity to purify our intentions and reconnect with spiritual guides. We light candles, open windows, and wash the floors to cast out the last gloom of winter. Some also use Imbolc for divination for the year’s harvest.

Imbolc is not really a feasting holiday, as the season of grains and fruits is months away. The first food of the year is dairy. Butter, milk, and cream are traditional foods for the Imbolc table.

Ostara

Ostara is the spring equinox, which falls on or about March 21 in the Northern Hemisphere. It is opposite the autumn equinox (which Pagans refer to as Mabon). But any desktop calendar can tell you that. Ostara is the Pagan cousin of the Easter holiday, a modern revival of one or more ancient spring celebrations.

Ostara is the second of three fertility festivals, a time when the blessings of spring become more visible in the natural world. Flowers bloom, the birds and the bees do their thing, and grocery aisles fill up with pastel-colored treats. Ancient fertility symbols like eggs and bunnies are everywhere. (Yep, Ostara is the Sabbat with the rabbit!)

Astronomically speaking, Ostara is a midpoint of the year, and day and night are equal at this time. The Sun God (who has been growing and gathering strength since Yule) is an adolescent. The Great Goddess, who has been getting progressively younger since December 21, is in her maiden form. These two lusty youths are now the same age, and will soon conceive the child who will be born at Yule.

How Pagans celebrate:

The original meaning of Ostara as a fertility festival is not lost on modern Pagans. Ostara provides a perfect opportunity to work magick for love, prosperity, and gains of any kind. We harness the energy of the lengthening days to fuel our desires and bring projects to fruition. We honor the gifts of the earth Goddess, who is presently blessing the land with beauty and nourishment.

Pagans also use Ostara as a time to reflect on the principle of balance. Everyone has goals and responsibilities—work, family, art, spirituality—that compete for our time and attention. At Ostara, we take a moment to notice things that may have shifted out of balance. We reset our priorities as the austerity of winter gives way to the exuberance of spring.

Beltane

Beltane is the ancient name for the May Day rite, held on May 1. Originally a fire festival, it was widely celebrated in pre-Christian Ireland and Scotland. The name comes from the god Bel (“the bright one”) and means “Bel’s fire.” It is the second of two principle festivals on the Celtic Pagan calendar, the other one being Samhain. Samhain and Beltane are the two poles of the magickal year, when the gates to Faery and the spirit world are most open to travelers. ­­­

In traditional Wicca, Beltane is a sexual festival, the last of the three fertility festivals. It is the time when the Maiden Goddess takes a lover in the form of the young God. Wiccans enact this drama through the ritual marriage (Great Rite) of a High Priestess and High Priest, whose union will bless the land.

How Pagans celebrate:

Theoretically, Beltane is an occasion of unbridled sensuality and revelry. However, sexual rites are rare in modern covens. If invited to a Beltane ritual, you’re far more likely to dance around a maypole or witness a symbolic Great Rite (with a chalice and athame) than encounter an orgy.

For the social Pagan, Beltane season abounds with bonfires, festivals, concerts, and campouts. Solitary Pagans might celebrate by making an altar to the young God and Goddess or connecting with a lover. Flowers, honey, sweets and wine on the altar echo the sweetness of the occasion. Beltane is also a time for illusion, seduction, and Faery tricks. By the light of the Beltane fire, the real can become unreal (and vice versa).

Since Beltane celebrates the union of the God and Goddess, it is a popular time for proposals, handfastings, and renewing of vows. Magickally, the combined masculine and feminine energies lend a powerful alchemical surge to almost any type of spellwork.

Litha

Litha is the summer solstice, which in the Northern Hemisphere falls on or about June 21. Linguists disagree about the origin of the Sabbat’s name, but summer festivals were common across pre-Christian Europe. People lit bonfires to keep the sun’s light alive for as long as possible. Solstice revels were supposed to bless the crops in the fields and drive away evil spirits.

Litha is the day when the Sun God is at the peak of his power. It is an auspicious day, ruled by the Sun and the element of Fire. After Litha, the nights will begin to grow longer and the Sun will move further away each day. With the fall harvest imminent, Litha is an opportunity for anticipating the (actual or symbolic) crop. Medieval people believed that Midsummer Night was blessed, and that whatever a person dreamed on this night would come true.

How Pagans celebrate:

Outdoor rituals are common at Litha, as Pagans take advantage of the long hours of daylight. It is a joyful Sabbat. Bonfires and summer games brighten the space between earth and sky. We decorate our altars with solar symbols, and honor the God in his aspect as Father.

Litha is an appropriate time for all magick ruled by the Sun. This includes spells of cleansing, protection, charisma, and truth.

Lammas

Lammas is the first harvest festival on the Pagan calendar, observed on or about August 1. It is related to an old agricultural holiday celebrating the reaping of grain. Lammas probably comes from the Old English words for “loaf mass.” Loaves of freshly baked bread would have been prepared from the first grain and blessed in churches around the countryside. Lammas is also called Lughnasadh, after the Celtic sun God, Lugh.

As the summer stretches on and the days grow shorter, the sun God symbolically loses some of his strength. He is not yet dead, but is aware that the dark season will soon approach. The god of summer “dies” in the fields to nourish the people, and prepares for rebirth at Yule.

How Pagans celebrate:

Lammas is a time to welcome the harvest. We give thanks that the year’s work is proceeding as planned, and that we will soon enjoy the fruits of our labor. Grain is the traditional food for the Lammas table, in the form of wheat, barley, beers and ales.

Celtic Pagans celebrate Lammas/Lughnasadh as the feast of Lugh, an agricultural god—but also a patron of poets, musicians, and craftspeople. At Lammas, we may show off the skills we have acquired and trade them for things we will need. It is a traditional time of year for craft fairs and local markets.

Mabon

Mabon is the autumn equinox (or as us Texans call, it “fawwwl”). In the Northern Hemisphere, it falls around Sept 21. Mabon is the pivot point of the solar year when the days begin to shorten and winter is on its way. (The name of the festival is modern and dates from the 1960s or early 1970s.)

Mabon may also be called the Second Harvest, because it is the time when autumn fruits and nuts reach their maturity. It is a time to contemplate what we have worked for in the previous year and what rewards we are ready to reap. We give thanks to the waning sunlight and prepare to store our wealth away for the scarce season. We shift from active to contemplative magick. Mabon season is a fine time for workings of prosperity, gratitude, security, and balance.

How Pagans celebrate:

Mabon is a time for celebration after the hard work of the harvest. Though it is sad to watch the beauty of the growing season fade away, we revel in the mild weather and rest that autumn brings.

Mabon foods are comfort foods, those that evoke fond memories and connect us through sharing. We bake and brew, pickle and can. Offerings of wine, cider, fruits, and boughs may adorn the Mabon table—along with that most Pagan of centerpieces, the Cornucopia.

On the Pagan religious calendar, Mabon represents the turning point to the dark half of the year. We shift our attention from the youthful merriment of the summer Sabbats. At Mabon, we honor the Crone and Sage deities, the cycles of aging and death, and the spirit world.

Mabon is a popular time for large outdoor rituals—in part because the weather is good and it doesn’t conflict with any major mainstream holidays. We gather together to feast and express gratitude for our lovely tilted planet. Many cities host a public Mabon ritual as part of their annual Pagan Pride Day gatherings. Solitary Pagans might celebrate Mabon with offerings at a home altar, or a contemplative walk in the woods.

https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/the-eight-sabbats-witchs-holidays

[noragami-ru-manga]

Chronology of Noragami

To match the events in Noragami with real-life data, we’ve used everything: festivities mentioned, important events that have occurred in Japan, natural disasters, seasonal flower blossoming, study trimesters, exams and school holidays, moon phases that have appeared in the manga, solar and lunar eclipses, Hiyori and Yukine’s birthdays, Hiyori’s diary, and even Yato’s clothes.

Several members of Noragami_ru Manga discussed the series and its time frames, armed with both inspiration and critical thinking. There was a lot of information to process; some of the manga events were very easy to match with the calendar, while others really fell out of the timeline. A prime example is chapter 73. It was impossible to reconcile with any given date and broke the straight string of the events that did line up. Sometimes Hiyori’s diary would cavort and list its dates at random. However, we do know that the events of Noragami happen within the time frame of a little over a year. This one’s easy to check and  prove. The manga started when Hiyori met Yato, several days later they found Yukine and a year later, right after his first birthday, Yukine was accosted by Mizuchi and ended up stinging Yato. Yato then decided to end his father’s attacks once and for all and went to confront him.

Adachitoka started working on Noragami in 2010, and the first chapter was published by Kodansha in January 2011. These dates were the first ones to come to mind. Naturally, other years were carefully examined; members of the fandom stocked up with “magnifying glasses” and “microscopes” and meticulously checked and double-checked several other calendars and tried to reconcile them with the events of the manga. But years 2010-2011 were the ones that fit the best, and very soon you’ll see why. Get ready, dear members, readers and (un)expected guests. We can’t promise you over-the-top fun times. But we hope that you will be pleasantly surprised and look at Noragami and its amazing universe in a different light. Let’s go!

This is our first main clue:

Hiyori says that it’s been two weeks since she first met Yato and became a half-ayakashi. The same day in the evening, they’ll find Yukine. “We had an early snow that day… I wonder if that’s why Yato named him Yukine?”, Hiyori will recollect a year later. It was 29 November, the end of 2010. The sky is overcast, it’s snowing, the moon can’t be seen so it’s impossible to match its phase with the calendar. But we will reconcile memorable dates with moon phases later.

Here we can see young moon behind the trees. It’s an early winter evening; Hiyori comes home and brings Yukine along. Judging by the moon phase, it’s sometime between 10-12 December 2010. Hiyori’s parents come home and say that they’ve been at the class reunion. Those are usually held on Saturdays. If so, the date is 11 December.

The encounter and the first fight with Bishamon happen during fool moon:

First signs of indelible blight start showing on Yato’s skin; Nora appears and tries to persuade him to give up on Yukine and use her instead. The fool moon at the picture looks like it’s been marred by dirt. Date-wise these coincide with 20-21 December 2010. A full lunar eclipse happened that night in real life. In Japan it could be seen in the evening, after the moon rising. Here is a quote from the Russian Wikipedia: “Since this lunar eclipse coincided with winter solstice, 21 December became “the darkest day” in the last 372 years. The next lunar eclipse on 21 December will happen only in 2094”.

The next is “Christmas” chapter (22-26 December). Yato is wearing a Santa cap, there’s a festive shop sign on the wall:

In chapter 9 Hiyori goes on a temple visit to Tenjin’s shrine and New Year’s celebration with her friends. She miraculously avoids death on 1 January:

7 January to 25 March is the last school trimester in Japan. Hiyori is wondering where Yato is. It’s the 3-4th lunar day, when there’s no moon yet, but there are signs of a very slim crescent.

Yato’s epiphany in girl’s bathroom

Soon enough, Yato and Yukine will have to go through misogi – the ablution ritual.

By the way, these two important events changed places in the anime. There, Yato was dying from blight sometime near the end of December, perhaps on that same “darkest day” of the lunar eclipse. Several days later, on New Year’s, Nora set her ayakashi on Hiyori.

Yato meets up with Nora during another full moon. Why can’t they just sleep on these moonlit nights?

Is it 20 January 2011? Or is it already 18 February?

Yukine meets Suzuha when the first spring flowers start blooming:

Hiyori is graduating from middle school and preparing to enter high school. Plumes are blooming (which means it’s either February or March), and Hiyori has her promotion exams coming when she is kidnapped by Kugaha. Yato and Yukine rash to Bishamon’s residence to rescue the girl:

Yato engages Bishamon in battle on the night of the crescent moon:

If we try to match first flowers blooming on the ground with plum blossoming, then it can’t be February, which means it’s the beginning of March. A crescent like this generally appears on 7-9th lunar day. Date-wise it lines up with 10-12 March 2011. The date that interests us is 11 March, since it was a memorable one for Japan. A huge earthquake occurred that day on the eastern cost of Honshu, resulting in a giant tsunami. Nearly 16 thousand people died and 2.5 thousand went missing.

In Noragami this event leads to the gods’ council in Takamagahara:

Bishamon manages to prove that her fall was the sorcerer’s doing, so the Heavens start their hunt on Ebisu. As a result, the actual perpetrator who’s used Aiha and Kugaha to set two warrior gods against each other goes unpunished, whereas Ebisu becomes a scapegoat.

Sakura starts blooming when Hiyori enters high school:

First trimester begins on 1 April. Hiyori is ignoring Yato. According to the calendar, it’s the new moon. Fujisaki enters the scene.

However, as soon as Suzuha’s sakura starts blooming, Hiyory gathers Yato and Yukine, Tenjin, Kofuku and Bishamon and their shinki for flower gazing. There’s even a date this time – 13 April.

The events of chapter 26 happen in early May. End of April – beginning of May are holidays in Japan, which Hiyori spends at home with her parents. Her diary, which we will examine later, is absolutely blank during this time. Hiyori’s mom says that it’s only May, but the water reservoir is empty. There’s also a newscast on TV about possible water shortage in summer, possibly due to abnormal weather conditions

This time Nora appears on a moonless night and kidnaps Yato. Two weeks later Hiyori is seen looking for Yato, asking Daikoku and Tenjin about him. She is doing it with a purpose, since she has plans for 8 May.

Hiyori’s diary here deserves special attention:  

It’s easy to match the dates with the calendar. For example, 10th is a Monday, January, therefore, 11th is a Tuesday. The next page of the diary has another Monday on it – 17th. The dates on the second frame are hard to match with anything, but there’s a mention of the picnic on the third one – 12-13 April, the days are Tuesday and Wednesday. On the fifth frame the pages with dates from 25 April to 7 May are empty. But there’s a trip to Capyper Land scheduled on Sunday.

Yato says he’s been living at his father’s for a month when he is sent to rescue Ebisu from Yomi:

Hiyori’s friends make her go to Capyper Land with them on one of the May weekends. Yukine has been in Takamagahara for a while, where the time flow is different from Earth’s, which is why he’s lost track of time for a bit and only realizes that summer is coming when he meets Hiyori:

There’s unrest in the Heavens. A storm is also brewing on Earth, as noted by Mayu:

2011 was an unlucky year for Japan. Typhoon Songda approached the country at the end of May. Here’s an extract from a real-life news article: “Disasters come treading on each other’s heels. Typhoon Songda, which has been raging near Japan, is approaching Fukushima-1 nuclear station. Bad weather might cause floods and landslides, which the experts fear might result in another radiation leak”.

During old moon Yato is still in Yomi with Ebisu. Storms are raging in Japan and in Takamagahara. A partial solar eclipse is approaching, which you’d think would bother the goddess of sun herself. In Japan it’s supposed to happen early in the morning on 1 June. But?.. Apparently off-screen, Amaterasu lifts her divine ass and goes searching for… the god of the moon, who went missing from the world of the living?

Amaterasu helps rescue the gods from Yomi. When Yato flies out of the vent straight into Hiyori’s arms, it’s already 15 June – there’s a full moon in the sky. According to the calendar, there was a full lunar eclipse that night. Yato is covered in dirt and blight:

After meeting with the reincarnated Ebisu, Yato releases Hiiro:

Judging by these frames, it was Hiiro who used to cut Yato’s hair. Sometime later it starts growing out, so Yato has to pull it into a ponytail since he doesn’t have his free hairdresser now. Though he will get one in Takemikazuchi several months later.

Yato misses Hiyori’s birthday on 28 June. However, he takes her to Capyper Land on one of the weekends. School holidays start on 20 July. Hiyori is seen wearing either dresses or sundresses. It’s also summer when Hiyori sees Yato’s memories and learns about the god’s greatest secret.

Hiyori starts going to school in chapter 48, so it’s September. The month does not begin well: Fujisaki asks the girl to leave Yato alone, and she challenges him. Right after that he uses the second brush from Yomi to summon ayakashi. Those cause chaos at the hospital that Hiyori blames herself for and starts turning into an ayakashi, going further away from the Near shore. It was also in the beginning of September 2011 that tropical storm Talas approached Japan, resulting in 59 casualties. The damage it caused is considered to be one of the biggest ones in the last 20 years. It’s no wonder Hiyori is blaming herself for the disasters; after all, as early as March, right after Yato’s battle with Bishamon and the unrest in Takamagahara and on Earth, Tenjin said to the girl that Yato did that because of her and nearly turned into an aramitama (raging spirit).

In chapter 53 Yukine is secretly reading Hiyori’s letters and says that they haven’t seen each other in two months:

Which means it’s the beginning of November. Fate brings Yato to another Iki and returns him to Hiyori once more. Their ties are written straight with crooked lines.

Yato starts preparing for Kamuhakari and makes clothes for Yukine and himself. Kiun appears and demands that he attends the divine council itself as well. It means that apart from feasting on free food, which was Yato’s intention, he will also have to participate in boring god meetings.

Tama the cat, who also appears at Kamuhakari, ruins this whole line of calendar match-ups. She died in June 2015, not long before chapter 58 was released, and Adachitoka honored her this way.

Bishamon misses Kamuhakari because she goes looking for the burial hafuri. Kazuma comes to Iwami. Full moon is shining through the window, which means it’s 11 November:

Hiyori goes back home from the festivities while Yato has to stay at the boring part of Kamuhakari. The girl notes that it’s been three days since she came back, and recalls that it’s been a year since she met Yato. It happens around 14-16 November. She also thinks that they should throw a party for Yukine, cause it’s almost a year since they found him (two weeks after she met Yato). Yukine’s birthday will be on 29 November. But a lot of events will happen in Takamagahara before that.

By the way, the time flow in Takamagahara is just as messed up as in Yomi. One day for Yato is the same as three days for Hiyori. The moon is old again. And the time in Takamagahara flows three times faster:

There’s also a peculiarity to Yato’s clothes.

“Yato comes to Kamuhakari in white clothes. But then the battle with the Heavens begins. Yato loses his divine white sleeve in his fight with Takemikazuchi. Then only the white cape remains. Finally, he appears in front of Amaterasu dressed in black.

We don’t know how long the battle lasted, but the time in Takamagahara flows differently than on Earth. It’s possible that it’s been two weeks on Earth between the beginning of Kamuhakari and Amaterasu’s trial. Also, during the new moon (when the side of the Moon facing the Earth isn’t lit by the Sun) the sun and the moon go side by side; sometimes the moon overshadows the sun a little, partially or completely. Yes, I’m still hoping an eclipse happened during the trial. Compare this: when Bishamon was at the brink of falling into the state of aramitama, her blight was dark. But Yato’s is black, and the stains it left on Amaterasu’s clothes are black”. (Ivan)

And the calendar? A partial solar eclipse happened on 25 November 2011. Japan was not supposed to see it. However, a black spot landed on Amaterasu and scared her.

“I think that’s the whole point, that the solar eclipse wasn’t seen in Japan. It could only be seen in Antarctica and partially in South Africa and New Zealand. So the picture in chapter 71 is correct. Amaterasu is showering every god and shinki present with her sunlight, then the eclipse starts. Yato, who is tired of the battle and tormented by his shinki’s sufferings, catches his “wave” and tries to make the eclipse happen in Japan as well (albeit figuratively – by striking down the sun goddess), but Take interrupts the moon god’s show of power. Amaterasu looks somewhat tired throughout the trial; maybe she isn’t feeling well, among other things?” (Yana)

The full moon in chapter 73 messes up all the calculations once again.

See, there has already been a full moon not that long ago. Hiyori had spent a day at the Kamuhakari, then waited for Yato’s return for three days, and there’s only one week left till Yukine’s birthday. There can’t be a full moon twice in two weeks’ time. Perhaps Adachitoka started the chapter with Ebisu’s kidnapping as an extra first and then turned it into a full chapter; they added the mention of Yukine’s birthday but either left the moon the way it was drawn for the extra or simply forgot about it.

The next chapter messes up the dates again.

27 November is on Monday in Hiyori’s diary and there’s a note “Fujisaki-senpai was absent again today”. The thing is, 27 November 2011 is Sunday. It was Monday in 2017, when the chapter was released. It was a hard year: one of the mangakas had to take a long sick leave, and the manga soon went on a 14 month long hiatus.

Sometime before the birthday the Heavens summon Yato and he’s questioned by the sacred treasures and then Amaterasu herself.

Yato wakes up covered in blight after Yukine’s birthday. Take’s shinki conduct another misogi, and Yukine admits that Nora kissed him the day before.

Yato goes looking for a shinki that can help him take down Fujisaki. Amaterasu has set a deadline for him on Ooharai, the Great Purification ritual (30-31 December). There has to be a crescent moon in the beginning of December – a very slim one, shaped as a bow. Kazuma comes to Yato and becomes his shinki.

In chapter 79 the dates in Hiyori’s diary are correct: 28 November is Monday, 29 November – Tuesday.

And it’s almost full moon in Chapter 81 when Yukine starts wondering about his past, with the crack on his name growing.

Please focus your attention on the top frames with the moon. Keep your hands on the table and lift your eyes off the bottom frames.

The next full moon is on 10 December 2011, and it’s supposed to be a lunar eclipse, too. Unfortunately, since chapter 81 there hasn’t been any other chapter that had a full moon in it. However, we do have Hiyori’s words in chapter 85 about missing the chance to spend Christmas with her friends. It means that the events of the latest chapters take place between Christmas and New Year’s.

Ooharai is near.

***

Author of chronology: Yana Tarasova

Inspired, came up with ideas and then checked and double-checked them: Darina Episheva, Yana Tarasova, Amoeba Proteus, Ivan Ivanov

Comprised into an article by: Ivan Ivanov

English translation by: Anastasia Bazheeva

[chappedandfadedvds]

Jan 5th, Tuesday 17:51

„And Martin did steal the pen. I saw him put it in his pocket.“

„Really? The teacher did nothing?“

Jens sat on the chair by the window, listening in on the story he already had been told on his way over to the hospital. So his eyes had darted out onto the lawn of the courtyard, only one or two shadows passing in the yellow light of lamps, as the crossed from one building to the other.

„No they did. Martin had to pull it back out to show that he had taken it. Obviously.“

„Obviously. Of course.“

His mom’s giggle made his lips curl up into a soft smile. She had been even livelier today. Her spirits bright and high as soon as they had stepped into the room, presenting their mother with a large bouquet of flowers ranging from white to orange and pink. Lotte and him had passed the flower shop on their way to the busstop and his little sister had tugged on his arm, while she told him she wanted to bring the bouquet displayed in it’s window. Or at least something similar. Not as massive as the overly expensive one they had seen. They still had to be able to find a vase for it here.

„Yes, but he didn’t apologise, even though Olivia was really upset.“

„Not even when the teacher was there?

Jens also had gotten an extra one of these white flowers with dark green leaves. It looked a little like a blooming twig. Camellias? But he really thought it looked quite pretty on it’s own, and had promptly wanted to give one to Lucas tomorrow. Boys also liked flowers, right? Jens wasn’t sure. He knew he would love to get one, but hadn’t recieved a single flower in his life yet. He also hadn’t seen other boys get one. Perhaps this was a stupid idea. Or not. He was definitely overthinking this.

„No. Martin is awful, everyone in class thinks he is stupid.“

„I definitely get why. I’m sorry for you and I hope he is learning to be better.“

His gaze lifted from the ground outside, back into the room. His phone rested on the window sill next to him. The screen lightened up with another notification, he guessed, swallowing down the groan in his throat. Since yesterday, and him being oddly quiet in the group, Jens had recieved a couple of messages from everyone, asking if he is fine, if he needed anything. And though he really wanted to appreciate their concern and worry, he grew rather annoyed with each incoming new text.

„I don’t know. I’m not sure.“

„Olivia hopefully feels better? You are a great friend to stick up for her.“

The message could also be one from Lucas or Robbe. Or maybe Sander? All exceptions to his strict ignorance towards anyone else. He knew it wasn’t fair to his friends, he just couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. Maybe with Lucas around tomorrow, he’d be able to answer them and apologise for the late reply as well as assure them that he was doing alright. Because he was.

„Mhm, I guess. Olivia is my best friend. Also she would do the same.“

„I am pretty sure, you are right. What are you two doing on friday?“

Without another thought, Jens picked up the phone. Checking on the newest notification. And to his surprise it was another email from his dad, Hendrik. He straightened up in his chair on alert, as his eyes curiously stared at the litte bit of text, that only told him a quick greeting. Other than the document that he had recieved by mail the week before christmas, Jens hadn’t heard from him again. Nervous he slid his finger across the screen, the message opening up.

„Oh Olivia is coming over to play. We are not sure yet what we are doing. But Jens said that he would try and bake a cake for her birthday.“

„That’s really nice. It must be sad for her to not be able to celebrate it with all of her friends. But good that she has you.“

Jens’s hear briefly focused in on the conversation of his sister and mom at the mentioning of his name, however, as it only revolved around friday, his attention was swiftly set back on his phone.

Hello Jens,

I hope you are handling everything as well as possible, given your mother’s situation. And further I hope you have found that I changed the sum of the monthly bank transfer, as well as I send you an additional bit of money into your own savings account. It’s not much, but perhaps it will suffice to pay for university in summer. 

The main reason, that I am writing you now, is that I have my trip to visit you Helena planned out. I will arrive at the Alta harbour in Norway  this weekend, and from there I’m going to take a car over Stockholm and Hamburg to get some more work done. There is a professor in Hambrug who has done quite some research in my field, who could really help me out. But I don’t think you’d be even remotely interessted in that. I also have to make a stop in Brussels at my university for funding.

To get to the point. If everything goes well, I’ll be in Antwerp the week after.

Roughly the 17th til the 20th. 

And I’ll make sure to see your mother hopefully most days, though I’d love to see you as well. And Lotte perhaps?

We don’t have do decide on anything yet or make arrangements, just think about it maybe?

I would love to hear from you.

With kindest regards,

Hendrik

„I know and she is sleeping over as well. It’s going to be a lot of fun. Maybe we can build a pillow fort or something. I hope Lucas is going to be there as well. He wasn’t yesterday or today. Which I don’t like.“

„It’s okay to miss him, but he also needs to be there for his friends and family from time to time, you know.“

Jens leaned his head back into his neck, closing his eyes, as he placed his phone blindly back onto the window sill. Not having the energy to deal with everything that was this email. He somehow had forgotten about it. About the fact that his father would come to see his mom and stay for a couple of days. Jens wondered if he’d be even able to avoid him, if Hendrik would be around the hospital a lot as he had implied in writing. Jens also hadn’t talked to Lotte about it. He felt a headache slowly rising, trying his best to concentrate on the cheerful voices occupying the space of the room instead.

„Oh. Right! Mom! I brought a book to read. I got so much better, because I read for Sander on the weekend, and he said so.”

„Well, then it must be true. As long as I get to cuddle you, I promise to listen intently.“ __ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots this is a tiny bit different from how I usually construct my writing, I think. But I really like it and it hopefully works as well for you as it does for me. 🙃

[whiteappalachianwitch]

The Eight Sabbats

There are eight major holidays Pagans celebrate throughout the year known as Sabbats. These holidays date back to pre-Christianity and are related to the movement of the sun. They are given names relative to the Celtic agricultural festivals. 

Historically we were once farmers and believed the sun moved around the earth. Modern Pagans are far moved from this way of life. However, the Sabbats are still important for connecting to the cycles of the seasons and human life. 

There are four astronomical holidays included in the Pagan Sabbats: the equinoxes and solstices--and the four traditional holidays in between. These eight festivals make the Wheel of the Year, observed in Wicca and Neo-Paganism religions that are Wicca-influenced. 

I Samhain: October 31st 

One of the most well-known Sabbat is Samhain, celebrated on October 31st. This holiday is celebrated as Halloween or All Hallows Eve also. Halloween is the time of the year when everyone participates in spooky activities and ancient superstitions. Culturally, Pagans and Witches are paid the most attention during this time of the year. 

Samhain is a term derived from the Irish Gaelic language meaning “summer’s end.” During this time, the days are short and the darker half of the solar year is near. Farmers will use up the remaining stores of perishable fruit and vegetables, and preserve other food to keep throughout the winter. Livestock is also slaughtered that does not feed through the winter, a reason why Samhain is referred to as the Third Harvest, or Blood Harvest. 

Pagans and superstitious peoples believe the boundary between worlds is at its thinnest during Samhain. This holiday is referred to as Ancestor’s Night or the Feast of the Dead. Many witches believe Samhain is the best time to communicate with ancestors and honored spirits, also known as the beloved dead. Lonely or angry spirits are believed to wander the earth on Samhain night looking to irritate humans. 

Celebrate How To

Samhain is the beginning of the new year for Pagans. Reflection and celebration are the focal points of this holiday. Casting off the old year’s attachments and turning attention to winter and it’s scarcity. Feast on the last of summer’s harvest and contemplate what is worth saving and nurturing during the dark times of winter; make friends with Death. 

It is important to note participating in the celebrations of Halloween and trick or treating. This is a celebration of muggles, but has its roots in old Pagan beliefs anyway. 

Samhain rituals may involve ancestor alters, where participants are invited to place mementos and offerings for the beloved dead. The priest or priestess may invoke a deity ruling over transitions or migration of souls, such as Morrighan, Hecate, or Hermes. Individuals who died during the previous year or long ago may have their names spoken. 

Feasting is important in Samhain rituals. To eat sweets is to acknowledge the sweetness of life and its impermanence. To eat meat is to acknowledge all flesh must die and become nourishment. Food is also an offering to the dead for communication of fond memories, pay of respects, and appease hungry ghosts. Some Pagans will leave a plate out at the Samhain table for spirits that may visit. Dumb supper is a silent meal when Pagans invite their ancestors both known and unknown to come and feast. 

II Yule: ~December 21st

The Winter Solstice, or Yule, is the longest night of the year. If you live in the northern hemisphere Yule falls on or around December 21st. The darkest parts of the year is over and the days begin increasing in length after the winter solstice. 

Christmas falls around this time of year, adopting Yule customs. Christmas is the belief of the birthday of a divine infant who is conceived in the spring. The dark of midwinter is the time of the confinement of the Goddess in labor as she prepares to welcome the solar child. On the longest night, the Sun God is born as the earths creatures praise and thank Him. 

Celebrate How To

Passive, personal magick during Yuletide is the best practice for short days of work and long nights of dreaming. Set your intentions and incubate plans. Mental and spiritual preparation is important during Yule for the light half of the year. Some Pagans keep a midwinter vigil while they wait for the rebirth of the sun at dawn. 

Yule is not usually a time for group ritual gatherings since many are visiting family and traveling. For this reason, the rituals during Yule are more home-y and conventional. 

Decorate with evergreens and holly, exchange gifts, and light a candle to herald the return of the sun on Midwinter Eve. If you are ambitious, set the Yule log blazing. Give thanks for the life-giving energy of the sun. 

III Imbolic: February 1st

Imbolc is a festival of spring and purification. Celebrated on February 1st, the day of not yet spring in most of the world. This is the first of the three Pagan fertility festivals, with the other two Ostara and Beltane. 

Imbolc is an Old Irish term meaning “in the belly” associated with the coming of lambing season. Other festivals that coincide with Imbolc are Candlemas, a Christian festival, and the old farmer’s oracle Groundhog’s Day, both on February 2nd. 

Imbolc is significant for our ancestors because this was the beginning of the ground thaw when planting season preparations were made. The land was surveyed and inventory of tools were made for repairs and modifications that were necessary. Witches would also prepare by cleaning and blessing the altars and making sure tools of practice were attuned with intent for use. 

The mythical side of Imbolc is a celebration of awakening the Goddess after her journey of birth to the young God at Yule. The first stirrings of life after winter are observed. Energies of creativity and imagination are brought about by Imbolc. For this reason, many projects that were put on hold are now being picked back up again. Midwinter dreams resolve into visible shapes. 

Celebrate How To

Brigid holds Imbolc especially sacred as the Celtic Goddess of hearth fire, healing, the bardic arts, and smith work. Brigid can be honored with candlelight, poems, and woven ornaments known as Brigid’s crosses within Imbolc rituals. Cleansing, healing and blessing are appropriate since the first light of spring is evident. 

During Imbolc, it is a time for spiritual dedication and re-dedication. New members are often initiated in covens, especially women’s covens, at Imbolc. Examining and refreshing your practice during Imbolc is appropriate if you are a seasoned Pagan. If you are too relaxed and have not given time to your craft, Imbolc is an opportunity to purify intent and reconnect spiritually. Light candles, open windows, and wash the floors to cast winter gloom out. You may also use Imbolc for divination for the year’s harvest ahead. 

This holiday is not a time for feasting. The first food of the year is dairy, butter, milk, and cream; foods for the Imbolc table. 

IV Ostara: ~March 21st

The spring equinox, also known as Ostara, falls on or about March 21st in the northern hemisphere. This equinox is the time Pagans refer to as Mabon, the opposite of the autumn equinox. 

Ostara is the second of the three fertility festivals, where blessings of spring become more apparent in the natural world. Flowers are blooming, birds and bees are twitter pated, and pastel-colors fill the stores. Eggs and bunnies, ancient fertility symbols, appear everywhere; Ostara is the Sabbat with the rabbit, ha! 

Ostara is the midpoint of the year where the day and night are equal. The Sun God has been growing and gathering his strength since Yule, making his age an adolescent. The Great Goddess is getting younger and in her maiden form. The two are youthful, full of lust, and the same age, which will soon have them conceive a child born at Yule. 

Celebrate How To

The time of Ostara is a great time for love, prosperity, and gains of any kind within your magickal work. Harness the energy of the lengthening days to propel your desires and projects into fruition. The land is beautiful and nourishing, and the earth Goddess is honored. 

Ostara is a good time of reflection on the principle of balance. For this reason, it is a good time to balance work, family, art, spirituality and all your responsibilities. Take time to notice things that have shifted your balance. Reset priorities. 

V Beltane: May 1st

The ancient name for the May Day rite is Beltane. This festival was originally a fire festival and celebrated in Ireland and Scotland before the days of Christianity. The god Bel, or “the bright one,” is responsible for the name of this festival and means “Bel’s fire.” On the Celtic Pagan calendar, Beltane is the second of the two principle festivals, with the other one being Samhain. Samhain and Beltane are the two markers of the magickal year, when the gates of Faery and the spirit world are the most open to travel. 

Within Wicca, Beltane is a festival of sexual activity since it is the last of the three fertility festivals. During this time, the Maiden Goddess takes the young God as her lover. Wiccans will marry as the Great Rite to enact this drama the High Priestess and High Priest; their union will bless the land. 

Celebrate How To

With unbridled sensuality and revelry, Beltane is the time of sexual rites. However, this is a rare occurrence and you’re most likely to witness a symbolic Great Rite with a chalice and athame, or a dance around the maypole rather than an orgy. 

Bonfires, festivals, concerts, and campouts are the social aspects of Beltane season. If you are a solitary witch, you may make an altar to the young god and Goddess, or connect with a lover. Flowers, Honey, sweets, and wine are good things to place on your altar. This is also a good time for illusion, seduction, and Faery tricks. 

Beltane is a popular time for proposals, handfastings, and renewing of vows. The combination of masculine and feminine energy will become a powerful alchemical surge for any spell work. 

VI Litha: ~June 21st

The summer solstice, or Litha, is the time in the northern hemisphere around June 21st. Bonfires to keep the sun’s light alive for long as possible are lit. Blessing of the crops in the fields and banishing evil spirits is common practice.

Litha is the day when the Sun God is his most powerful self. The sun and the element of fire rule Litha. After Litha, the nights will be longer and the sun will move farther away. Within Litha, anticipating crop is evident as the fall harvest is imminent. The Midsummer Night was blessed, according to Medieval people, and whatever a person dreamed on this night will come true.  

Celebrate How To

Rituals are usually outdoors during Litha, as it is the time to take advantage of the long hours of day. This Sabbat is joyous with bonfires and summer games. Decorate the altar with solar symbols and honor the God as Father. 

Any magick ruled by the sun is perfect for Litha. Spells of cleansing, protection, charisma, and truth are especially appropriate. 

VII Lammas:~August 1st

This holiday is the first harvest festival on the Pagan calendar. This celebration is related to an old agricultural holiday of reaping of grain. Lammas most likely comes from the Old English term for “loaf mass.” Loaves of bread would have been prepared from the first grain and blessed by churches. Lammas is also known as Lughnasadh, named after the Celtic sun God, Lugh. 

The days grow shorter in the summer, and the sun God will lose his strength. He will die in the fields to nourish the people in preparation for rebirth at Yule. 

Celebrate How To

During this time, it is appropriate to welcome the harvest. Give thanks to this year’s work and plans as you will soon enjoy the fruits of labor. Grain is the food of tradition for Lammas, in the form of wheat, barley, beers, and ales. 

Lammas/Lughnasadh is celebrated in Celtic Paganism as the feast of Lugh, who is an agricultural god, but also a poet, musician, and craftsman. Showing off skills and trading them for things you need is a common practice. This time is usually a time of craft fairs and local markets. 

VIII Mabon:~ September 21st

The final of the eight Sabbats is Mabon, or the autumn equinox. The days will begin to shorten and winter is coming. Mabon is also known as the Second Harvest because of the reaping of autumn fruits and nuts. This holiday brings with it the time of deep contemplation for what we have worked for in the previous year and the rewards for reaping. Giving thanks to the waning sunlight in preparation for storing bounty away for the scarce season. The shift from active magick to contemplative magick is made in Mabon. This is the final time for prosperity, gratitude, security, and balance work. 

Celebrate How To

The hard work of harvest is done and now we must celebrate! It is sad to watch the growth season’s beauty fade, but the mild weather and rest autumn brings is welcomed. 

With Mabon brings comfort foods that promote fond memories and connection through sharing. Bake, brew, pickle, and can; offer wine, cider, fruits, and boughs upon the Mabon table. The Cornucopia is the centerpiece of most Pagans during Mabon. 

Mabon is the turning point to the dark half of the year on the Pagan religious calendar. The shift away from youthful merriment is made. Honoring the Crone and Sage deities, the cycles of aging and death, and the spirit world are appropriate during Mabon. 

This Sabbat is a popular time for outdoor rituals large in size mostly because of the weather. Gathering to feast and express gratitude for the planet during Mabon is the focal point. Some cities will host public Mabon rituals as a part of their annual Pagan Pride Day. If you are a Pagan in solitary you may celebrate Mabon with offerings at a home altar, or walking in the woods in deep contemplation. 

Reference

Gruben, M. (2017, November 26). The eight Sabbats: Witch's holidays. Retrieved July 19, 2020, from https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/the-eight-sabbats-witchs-holidays