#barnaby: i sure hope i never have to experience anything like this again!

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 1 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.7k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, eventual romance/smut, medium burn? notes - first part of my owner!soap x pet!reader, woohoo! i already regret writing something centered around texting and calling lmao, crying!! the formatting is killing me!! anyway, also on ao3! and if you wanna send a request, pls do! ♥

Lonely girl looking for owner. 

Posting on this subreddit again was probably a mistake—but a deep-down part of you clings to the hope that this time will be the time you find someone, the time you get to go home to him. 

At least this time, you'll be better at spotting the signs right off the bat—if only you can take off the rose-tinted glasses long enough to take note.

Your inbox is flooded with the usual kinds of messages—unsolicited pictures, low-effort one-sentence wonders, and so-called doms jumping straight to the part where they call you a nasty whore with no actual consideration for the person you are. 

You're just about to give up, delete the post, and ignore all chat requests when a message arrives in your inbox. 

From: squeakycleanscot 

Subject: Lonely guy looking for girl

Hi,

Saw your post and knew I had to message. You sound like everything I'm looking for and more.

I'm a little younger than the age you put on your post, but I think I fit your other requirements. I'm 27, Scottish (yes, with the accent), and in the army, I hope that's a turn-on rather than a turn-off.

When I'm not deployed, I like cosy nights in, preferably with my love by my side. Don't mind a night at the pub either, especially if there's a Celtic match on, not that anywhere near here shows them. 

I'm looking for something longer term like you mentioned (would love to collar my girl one day, which is probably ironic considering I'm a wee bit scared of dogs.)

Happy to send a picture if you'd like :) 

Hope to hear from you soon, 

Johnny.

Johnny. 

You reread the message, turning his words over in your mind. 

Something about his message has your attention—it at least suggests he has a brain in his head and a heart capable of empathy, and that maybe he's serious. 

You begin typing your reply instantly, your fingers moving so fast you have to type and retype so many parts to rid the message of all of the overexcited mistakes.

hi johnny, 

scottish?! is it bad im already imagining how your dirty talk will sound? 

it's funny, i always wanted to join the army growing up, but it never worked out. maybe it's for the best as now i'm not immune to enjoying a hot man in uniform... which I'm assuming you are ;) 

cosy nights in are my favourite too! I'm a bit of a homebody and love being snuggled up more than anything. i have to let you know in advance that you have some stiff competition in the form of my giant teddy bear, barnaby. 

i'm looking for something longer term too, or at least not a one night kind of thing—a collar one day would be the dream <;3 

if you send a picture, ill send one back, nothing sexy just yet though, if that's okay? 

have you met up with someone off here before? just curious about your experiences! 

y/n

As soon as the message is sent, the overthinking kicks in—was that too much? Is he going to think you're weird? 

You shuffle in bed, turning over between the sheets and trying to flick through other apps as you wait for a reply—otherwise, you'd just be staring at the notifications bar waiting for that silly little robot face to pop up. 

Johnny doesn't leave you waiting long, only a few minutes passing from your last message.

Maybe you'll find out sooner rather than later just how my dirty talk sounds ;) 

I tried to sneak in before I was old enough, but they caught on. Served since I was 18 though, you'll have a lot of stories ready from me if you're ever willing to listen. Not sure if the uniform is anything like you're thinking though, in my unit it's mostly just t-shirts, tac vests and trousers. 

I'll prepare my best snuggling arms for if we ever meet. You should inform Barnaby now about his replacement, mind. 

Can't not send a sexy photo though, sorry lass, all my pictures are. I'm sure you understand, lol

Haven't met anyone, had a few conversations but nothing worth pursuing, and had kind of given up until I saw your post. 

His message is the perfect mix of sexy, sweet, and sincere—and if that is the essence of the man, you know he's everything you're looking for. 

You try not to think too hard about a hot Scottish accent calling you all your favourite names or telling you exactly what to do, or even those stories he has to tell, as the idea is all too exciting. 

Reading his message, you instinctively reach out to pat Barnaby when you see he may end up replaced—hopefully the poor bear will understand when he has to vacate the bed for this sexy soldier man. 

looking forward to it. can I start putting in requests now for bedtime stories too?

i still wanna see, maybe in your sexy-not-sexy pic? 

barnaby will be devastated by the news, and you may have to give him hugs too (but not for too long, or i'll get lonely!!!)

same here, about things not going anywhere... or people turning out to be a bit scary, so you're not allowed to let me down, okay? 

Maybe the last part of the message was too much, but your heart is already soaring with unbridled hope—along with that hope comes doubt too. 

Each second waiting for a reply drags, and you take to re-reading his messages and clicking on his profile to investigate. 

It's largely empty of posts, but there are tons of comments across different communities—including his aforementioned football team, r/Scotland, and eyebleach. 

Clearly, he's a softie at heart. 

When his next message comes through, it's an Imgur link with a short message. 

Here we go, a few months old though now. Don't have anything more recent from work :) 

You take a moment or two to steady yourself before you tap the link. While you definitely feel like you and Johnny have already started to click, if he's not your type then it probably won't go anywhere... 

It's a situation you've been in before—great conversation, similar interests but no physical attraction, and back then you didn't have the heart to break it off straight away.

You tap the link and are greeted by a full-body shot of a tall, well-built man in tactical clothes. His hair is a neatly trimmed mohawk, and while his face isn't crystal clear, he's clearly fucking handsome. His biceps bulge from the gray tee stretched over his torso, his large hands are covered with gloves and grasping a gun.

Your eyes trail to his long legs, thick thighs encased in camo and strapped with various holsters. All in all, the picture is perfect. You find yourself zooming in desperately to get a better look at his face, the handsome jaw lined with stubble that you can already imagine between your legs. The whole image and every new detail has you squirming in your bed, and cheekily wishing to save the image to your phone.

holyfwucj 

holy fuck 

Like what you see? 

i need a hug from you urgently. 

now i feel shy... 

It had crossed your mind ever so slightly that Johnny may be out of your league, or that he simply may not be attracted to someone like you, which would be a complete shame. Now you've set eyes on him, you want him even more—want to kneel at those feet and stare up at his hulking figure while he tugs on a leash around your neck. 

Hopefully, just like you, he'll be smitten from the first glance. 

Scrolling through your camera roll, you decide you don't exactly love any recent photos of yourself. The ones at your last work event have you looking far too corporate, and the only image from your last night out was taking in a bathroom mirror in the local Wetherspoons—neither of which is ideal. 

You crawl out from the warmth of your sheets, kneeling on the end of the bed and posing as you point your camera in the mirror that sits across the room and captures you perfectly. Before you start snapping, you adjust your top to make sure too much isn't on display, even though it's strappy and cropped, and definitely a little bit more on the tantalising side as far as your pyjamas go. 

Hopefully, Johnny likes the pose and the outfit... and you. You can see your smiling face just to the side of your phone as you press to capture the picture—and when you return to your inbox to send the picture link, a message is waiting for you. 

I already know you're gorgeous. Don't leave me hanging, bonnie. 

okay. this is me now, all ready for bed!! 

Holy fuck yourself.

And I'm assuming that's Barnaby in the background. 

If he notices the pose, he doesn't comment on it, instead delighting your heart by commenting on Barnaby instead.

sure is! he's ready for snuggles and sleep. 

Can you do me a favour? 

That message makes your heart skip because usually when something like that is asked, it's followed with a request for nudes or something sexual—and while that is a large part of something like this, you crave the connection first, crave someone actually sticking around and getting to know you. 

depends on what it is!

Tell Barnaby to keep looking after you until I get there, yeah? 

does that mean you're coming for me?

One day, if we're both lucky.

seems promising so far, Johnny. 

Get some sleep, yeah? Maybe tomorrow night I'll give you a bell. 

The idea of this conversation ending is heart-wrenching, but at least sleep will bring you closer to that possible phone call. Hearing his voice, now that will be even more incredible. 

how do you expect me to sleep after telling me that? so mean! 

Patience, bonnie. Be good for me? 

You clench, your thighs squeezing together as arousal rushes through you. It's like he knows exactly how far to go, what buttons to press, what you're looking for.

It's the right kind of commanding, toeing the line perfectly between flirtatious and in charge. A lot of guys you've talked to have rushed it made commands too early, and sent you running. Johnny's words, be good for me? You can't help but want to behave. 

okay, but I see how this is going to be :( 

Bet you look so fucking good with a pout ;) 

now you're just being a cruel tease, Johnny... 

Sorry, I'll stop. Sleep, yeah, for me?

cuddling up to barnaby now. 

You decide to attach another picture, your eyes screwed shut and cheeks squished as you wrap yourself around the bear and cuddle up under the sheets. 

talk tomorrow?

Of course, bonnie, sweet dreams <;3 

You lock your phone, your eyes feeling relieved as they adjust to the darkness. 

For a brief moment, you just clutch your phone to your chest and recall the picture Johnny had sent, how much you'd love to be wrapped up in his arms tonight. 

He's the only thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep.

-//-

Your dreams are tumultuous, starting off with a nightmare of being chased and chased until your legs give out, only for you to find salvation and safety in a stranger's arms—one who seemed vaguely familiar. 

The first thing you do when you wake is roll over to check your phone, elation overtaking you when you see a notification from Johnny already waiting there—already he's blessing you with a good morning message.

Good morning, sweet girl.

Attached under the picture is another image link, and clicking on it brings up an absolutely gorgeous picture of Johnny, lazing in bed. There's just enough light in the room for you to see the brightness of his eyes that you couldn't see before—his mohawk is mussed, and his smile is easy, drawing you in. 

He's even more handsome in this up close photo, you can only imagine what he looks like in person, right before you. 

morning Johnny <3 how did you sleep? 

Like a baby. Yourself? 

not the best, but I swear you were in my dream. 

Sorry to hear that, but oh already? What did I do? 

I mean, it was a bulky guy with a mohawk but he didn't have your name, I think it was meant to be you though. 

You recall the safety you felt in the arms of the strange figure, it was serene, and everything you hope to feel when you find the one—hopefully that's Johnny.

My dreams were shite, you didn't show up. 

i'll try harder to be there tonight!! 

Promise? 

promise. 

God, he's so fucking sweet. It's hard to imagine he's into all the things you mentioned in your initial post, at least right now. But you're all too familiar with how appearances can be deceiving—you wonder what else your sweet Scot is into. 

You peel back the covers and head out into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on mindlessly as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen—not wanting to be even a minute late to answering Johnny's texts, even though it seems there's a natural lull in the conversation. 

You return your focus to making your tea, and your thoughts don't drift from Johnny for even a moment, as you ponder ways to keep the conversation going. Admittedly, you have a million and one questions you want, but you don't want to come across too... eager? clingy? Like some serial killer fiending for information? 

It's crazy the way your heart yearns for him so soon—and it's crazy the way that you wish he feels the same as you do. You wonder how his day is going, and if he's staring at your phone waiting for your message.

With tea brewed, you set it on the coffee table and flop onto the plush couch, rushing to open the app when a new notification pops up.

What's your plan for the day? 

lazy day, binge-watching... texting you? wbu? 

I have to work for a bit, but I'll message you when I can. 

On a weekend? That's horrible, but I imagine they run a tight ship over there. 

You rush to follow up your message with something else. 

will you still be able to call tonight? 

Aye, give me your number, I'll save it! 

You send off your number and don't hear anything from Johnny for a good few hours. You pass the time watching one of your favourite shows, and trying to resist the urge to go scroll down Johnny's profile once more.  

The next time a message pops up, it's well past lunch.

Cute profile pic on whatsapp.

Johnny has clearly added your number to his contacts and spied your picture on the app. You blush thinking of him seeing you in that costume—especially after he knows what you're into.

it was Halloween, I swear!! 

You make an adorable little kitten, lass.

imagination running wild now? ;) 

Aye, but I'm a gent. 

hopefully not always...

Oh, you'll see. Talk to you tonight, kitty. 

talk to you then &lt;;3 

Now you're just itching, waiting for the hours to crawl by for Johnny's workday to end, so you can talk to him again, so you can finally hear his voice. 

What will it sound like saying your name? Whispering sweet nothings in your ears? 

The hours pass slowly until a different notification lights up your phone as you cuddle into your sheets.

Hey, it's Johnny! Just got home. 

You scramble to click on the pop-up, spying his own profile picture in the corner—tapping on it to view it closer. 

It's the Johnny you recognise, smiling wide with his arm slung around another man. He looks so ridiculously happy, probably due to the pint in his other hand. The more you look at him, the more you can't believe you're talking to this man, that he wants to talk to you. 

You quickly add him to your contacts, putting a heart next to his name, before you return to the chat and begin to type.

i'm not the only one with a cute pfp!! 

Three sheets to the wind in that picture, actually.

i can tell &lt;3

Ready to call? 

whenever you're ready!

The image of him floods your screen, the screen pulsing as it waits for you to accept. Your fingers tremble as you press the button, and you fall silent as you press the phone to your ear, nerves gripping at your throat. 

"Hi, bonnie." His voice drifts from the phone speaker, sweet like honey and warm like sunshine, with that gorgeous accent too. 

"Hi." You squeak out, silently cursing at yourself for being so nervous and seemingly unable to speak. 

A melodic laugh follows your words, amused but not cruel or mocking. "Are you nervous?" His voice is soothing, his concern and sweet nature evident. 

You cradle your burning cheek, feeling the way your blush spreads across your smiling face. "Just a little, can you blame me?" 

He's laughing again, and you hear a shuffling noise that suggests he's getting comfortable. "Don't be, I'll look after yer, I promise." 

Fuck. You could get used to hearing that. "I really like your voice." You admit, whispering into the phone with a ridiculous grin on your face. 

"I like yours too, you sound so sweet." 

You drop your voice lower, giggling mischievously. "Only sometimes." 

"That's what I like ta hear." The way Johnny's voice dips as he says that has your insides fluttering, but you can only assume he's returning the favour. His tone returns to its usual charming tone as he asks, "How was your lazy day?" 

"Well, I kind of spent a fair bit of it distracted, thinking about this important call I was going to have tonight..." 

"Oh aye, I should get off the phone so you can wait then." 

"Funny. How was yours? What do you even do day to day, anyway?" You ask, voice brimming with curiosity—there are so many things you want to ask, but you imagine his job can be secretive. 

"Lots of training, and sometimes paperwork, which is right shite." 

"Not when you don't have someone under the desk keeping you company." You laugh, taking the chance to flirt. If you were into Johnny after reading his messages, actually hearing his voice is only making your attraction soar. 

A quiet fuck can be heard, as the man on the end of the phone heaves out a breath. "I'll have ta look into getting you clearance if you keep talking like that, lass." 

"Glad to be of service, what can I say?" You find yourself in a giggle fit at your own silliness, a mix of nerves and joy at enjoying yourself so much.

"God, I love yer laugh." The deep sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. 

The drug that is Johnny is already so intoxicating. 

"I'm so glad you can't see me blushing." 

"I'm no'." He sounds so indignant about that. "But I could listen to that laugh all day, really."

If only he could see you pout too. "Now you're just trying to make me blush more." 

He chuckles, his voice dropping dangerously flirtatious again. "Maybe I am, nothing you can do about it."

"Now I'm pouting." 

"Better not pout in front of me, lass." His suggestive tone makes you shiver. 

"Oh, why's that?" You ask, playing coy. 

"'Cause I'll just have to start kissing ya, might even nibble on those soft little lips." 

You suppress a delighted squeak, already so flustered at even the idea of a kiss. "I'm not hearing a downside." 

"No?" 

"Nope." 

"Might not be gentle with you, though." 

"Good thing that I like it rough." The words are out of you before you can reconsider, but they have exactly the effect you intend as you hear Johnny inhale sharply.

"Ach, you and yer wicked mouth." 

"You have no idea..." 

He lets out a rough exhale, his voice turning gravelly and deep. "Fuck, bonnie." 

"Hey, I'm only repaying the favour, I've been squirming desperately pretty much since I picked up the phone." 

He whistles approvingly, his voice now teasing and playfully menacing. "Just you wait til I'm really in ya head." 

"You're already making good progress." You admit.

"Oh aye?" 

You hum contentedly, eyes flickering shut for a moment. "I'll be imagining your voice as I fall asleep tonight." 

"I'll just have ta send yer voice notes to drift off to, so I can end up in your dreams again." You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. 

"Already spoiling me, too." 

Fuck, how is it this man seems to know exactly what to say? Everything that comes out of his mouth takes root in your brain and sends your thoughts running wild—it's like he's already in your head, or as if someone made him in a lab.

"I'll spoil ya every day, if you're ever mine." 

You groan in frustration, unbelieving that a stranger can be so seemingly perfect. "How are you even single, Johnny?" 

"I could ask you the same. Taking everything in me to not ask for an address right now, if I'm being honest." He huffs a laugh. 

While the idea is thrilling, you know you should have at least some sense of preservation, and shouldn't blurt out your postcode for this strange man you barely know. "I'm worth the wait, I swear." You whisper your promise. 

"I'm sure yer are. But to answer your question, my work keeps me busy a lot, and this lifestyle isn't for everyone." There's a hint of vulnerability to his voice, and you sense such a fact is a sore point in his personal life. 

In the fantasy of all of this, you suppose the reality of the situation isn't something you'd stopped to consider. Life for a man in the military was surely so different from a regular 9-5. "I'm guessing that you're away a lot?" 

"Aye, sometimes for just a few days, sometimes for months, all depends." His admission is soft, as if you can hear in his tone that he's waiting for you to bolt. 

If that's the big 'catch' when it comes to Johnny, you can breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I guess you need someone strong and loyal to hold on and wait for you." 

There's a tense silence, something lingering in the air. 

"Hard to come by, I've found." 

The thought makes your stomach twist in the worst possible way. Johnny, at least on the surface, seems so worthy of love. 

You chance the question that's on the tip of your tongue, hoping Johnny doesn't mind your reckless curiosity. "Have... you been cheated on?" 

"More than once, gets less surprising over the years." He finishes with a sad laugh, as you can tell he tries to infuse humour into the whole thing. 

"That's... horrible." 

Being sent away from your home to face gunfire and warfare, all to keep the people back home safe... only to be betrayed by the people back home who love you, who are supposed to wait for you. It's a gut-wrenching thought, and your heart aches for the man.

"A few of the lads here have a similar story." 

"So the army, not for the faint of heart, and dating an army man, not for the faint of heart." You sigh, though you don't feel put off by the thought.  

"Exactly. That you then? Faint of heart?" 

"No. I mean, inside I'm clingy as hell, and I'd miss you like crazy every day until you got back..." Your emotions overtake you, as you imagine a future where you'd have to kiss the man goodbye for maybe months at a time. "But I get the feeling that what we could have would be worth the wait. Hypothetically of course." 

At that, Johnny laughs, and his light tone returns. "Don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves, aye." 

You don't want to get ahead of yourself, you know you shouldn't, but the way you and Johnny have clicked is unlike anything you've felt before. "But... I have a good feeling." 

"I do too, already dreading putting down the phone." 

"I'm not planning on it anytime soon, even if I have to be up early tomorrow." 

"So do I, alarms set for 4." 

You do not envy his lifestyle one bit.

"That's awful! I'm gonna be so cranky tomorrow, I might have to use my lunch break for a nap." You admit, preemptively yawning into your hand. 

"You one of those perpetually sleepy girls?" 

You nod, even though he can't see it. "The sleepiest." 

"Barnaby is a lucky bear, getting to cuddle up to you so much." 

You burst out laughing at the hint of envy in his words. "Are you... jealous?"

"For now, but soon the tables will turn." He faked an evil laugh, that only makes you giggle harder. 

"Oh, you think you can give better snuggles than him?" 

"Oh, I know I can, bonnie. The bear can't wrap his arms around yer, can't whisper sweet things in your ear..." His voice dips back into that seductive, teasing tone. "... Can't trail his hands down to that pretty little pussy." 

Once more, you flush with desire, every nerve alight as Johnny's words wash over you—although it seems like almost everything he says has your body reacting. "You have an interesting way of cuddling, Johnny."

"Didnae say I was actually gonna do anything once my hands got down there." 

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed." 

"When you're in my arms, you wouldn't have a choice, lass." The dark, dominant voice makes you shiver, makes your submissive instincts awaken. 

"Oh yeah?" 

He hums slowly. "Once you're mine, you leave the choices to me. Johnny knows best, yeah?" 

"Johnny knows best." You whisper breathlessly, the words coming out automatically, like they just feel right.

"Steamin' Jesus, can already tell yer gonna be the death of me." 

"Can't have that, your family won't get your death in service payout!" You laugh awkwardly, before a sense of guilt rears its head. "Sorry, grim joke." 

"I don't mind. You should hear some of the ones my Lt. comes out with, he's a right sick bastard." He chuckles.

"Never want to make light of it and hurt you, though." 

"Telling jokes makes it easier hen, you'll be wishing me dead in no time at all."  

You gasp, shocked by the prospect. "I'd never!" 

"Not even when I deny you from touching yourself for my entire deployment? Months of nothing at all?" The sick grin is evident in his voice. 

"You wouldn't, that's so mean. You're too sweet for that." 

"Aye, for now, but don't you like a little bit of meanness, if yer into men like me..." The edge to his voice and the truth to your words has you trembling. 

"Maybe..." You singsong in response, not wanting to give away just how much you liked the idea of his mean side. 

"Bonnie..." He tuts disapprovingly. "Don't play coy." 

You shudder out a breath as you squeeze your thighs together for relief. "I just don't want you to bully me too much right now, I'm already soaked." 

"Is that right?" He seems delightfully surprised by such a revelation. 

"Mhmm." 

"I'm fucking rock hard if it helps, think I have been since last night..." You hear him shuffle, and you try not to imagine what's happening on the other end of the line, or how he looks lying in bed with said hardness.

When he groans hungrily down the line, you feel yourself quake once more. "The sight of you on your fucking knees... Christ alive." 

You can't help but giggle at your unintended teasing. "It wasn't on purpose, I thought it was cute more than anything." 

"Adorable and naughty, could cum just looking at it." He huffs. 

"You're just flattering me, besides, I could say the same about your picture."

Every part of you flushes thinking of the first photo he sent, all muscle and alpha male—it's like he was the physical embodiment of dominance, and just looking at him makes you want to kneel.

"You like the military get up?" 

"Love it, more than I probably should." 

"Oh aye, bet you'd love for me to order you around?" His words are playful, but underpinned with a hint of promise. "All in due time, eh?" 

"All in due time. What's your rank, anyway?" 

"Sergeant." 

"Wait..." You take a deep breath as you consider your question. "Can I ask for your last name or is it too soon?" 

"Mactavish."

Johnny Mactavish—you should remember to give that a quick Google search later.

"Sergeant Mactavish." You test the name on your tongue, trying to imagine him at work, following and giving orders. 

"Sounds too good when you say it, bonnie." He laughs. 

"Thank you, sergeant." Your affectation of the word is entirely intentional, as you attempt to rile him up with the use of his title. 

The throaty groan that leaves him is addictive.

"What else do you like to be called?" 

"Depends on what you want to call me really, but I like... sir." 

"I like it too, will have to remember that for the future, and just torture you with sergeant in the meantime." You can't help but giggle as you flirt. 

"Oh don't worry, am keeping score." He growls playfully. "Wait til I get ma hands on you, bonnie." 

"You're keeping score?" You gasp, a heady mix of fear and arousal coursing through you almost urges you to be even more of a teasing brat.

"Aye, spanking arm at the ready." 

"My pouting lips are ready." 

"Won't be the only thing you use them lips for."

Fuck fuck fuck. Not that you hadn't thought about it already, hadn't already let your mind drift to what his cock might look like—whether it matches the size of the man—now you're definitely thinking about it. Fixated on it, craving it. 

Some cards are best kept close to your chest so early on, so you change tack and go a different direction with his flirtation. "Yeah, with you in the room, I'd probably be smiling a whole lot." 

The two of you continue to chat, you asking what you can about his work as he asks about yours, and you fill him in on the boring world you live in, which seems especially boring in comparison to taking down cartels and traveling the world.

The conversation never stops being easy, the flirtation and innuendo always right there at the tip of your tongues as you tease each other relentlessly—giving as good as you get. All night, you're practically grinding against your duvet as you get lost in Johnny's dulcet tones, and you find yourself just letting him speak for the sake of getting to hear more of his voice.

As Johnny is about to ask you more about your background, you're overcome with a harsh yawn that you desperately try to stifle. Your eyes have been shut for the last hour at least, but with the command Johnny has over your nervous system right now, it's been easy to stay awake. 

"Tired, bonnie?" He asks, voice laced with sweet concern.

"Yeah..." Your voice falls quiet, as the thought of ending the call makes your throat constrict. "But I don't wanna stop talking." 

"Me either, but av got bad news." 

You know what's coming, and you know it isn't remotely anywhere near the end of the world, despite what your heart is telling you right now. "Go on." 

"I have to go." Even he sounds sad about such an outcome. 

"It's not even that late?" The clock reads 2 am. 

"Gotta get a wee bit of sleep before I hit the gym, and then get off ta work. Don't you have work too?" 

"Work from home tomorrow, so it's not too bad. Not fair though, I wanna keep talking." You admit quietly. It's too much too soon, but you're overwhelmed, the tide of your emotions crashing over the edges.

"Tell yer what. Next time we call, we can try leaving it on while we sleep."

Your heart flips, as you almost whimper at how cute the gesture is. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"

"Obviously." There's that gorgeous laugh again. "Is it working?" 

"Just a little, but that might be the lack of sleep talking, I might be going slightly insane." 

Johnny sighs, and it's clear he's battling to keep a handle on his self-control. "Rest, bonnie, I won't be able to work knowing you're not sleepin'" 

You sigh too, accepting your fate. "Okay, just for you." 

"Just want what's best for you, you need your sleep."  

Your head spins at how utterly sincere he sounds—the care in his voice after such a short amount of time serves to drive you even deeper into this infatuation. "Already?" 

"Can't turn it off, am just protective by nature, bonnie. If you were my girl, you'd have a bedtime." 

And that makes your cunt clench and your heart soar. "Johnny..." You whine.

"Yeah?" 

You hesitate to say what you want to say next, but everything within you is calling out for him, desperate to be in his arms. "Don't make me wait too long to meet you, please." 

His laughter is sweet, conveying a sense of understanding more than anything. "I'll try ma best, supposed to be off on Friday." 

"5 whole days."

"Sure you don't wanna wait a bit longer?" 

You shake your head, mumbling a sound to convey your feelings. "Feels right, don't know how to describe it... do you feel it too?" 

Johnny takes a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks. "I do, lass." 

"Good." You couldn't even attempt to fight the idiotic grin on your face, or how warm you feel inside and out. "I'll get some sleep, talk soon." 

"Goodnight, bonnie. Sweet dreams."  

You wait for Johnny to end the call, not wanting to push the button yourself and have his presence fade away. When your screen dims, you resist the urge to text him more, opting instead to put your phone on charge and roll over to Barnaby—wishing it was Johnny instead. 

[pof203]

Justice Week: Tiger & Bunny 2 Day

Hey, everyone, we're the characters of Tiger & Bunny who want to thank you all for love and support you've given us this past twelve years. And adding one since today is also the anniversary of our second series Tiger & Bunny 2. We're so happy that you could show us so much in that one year.

Though, during that time, other anime series came and went, but we still remain strong. Though we may have a very small fanbase in America, the rest of the world backs them up. Just like how we back each other up. Anyone can have a heart of justice.

Even me. I know I was a bit of a hard case, but in the end, I learned that you have to trust others, they could be just as much your heroes as we are. Never forget that.

And don't forget to follow your dreams. Whether it would be as a hero, a singer, a writer, or anything, you can make a difference in the world, no matter what obstacles may come your way. The ice maybe cold, but your love cannot be put on hold!

And don't worry if you might fail. Sometime, it can be a learning experience to help you try again until you succeed. Just being in the background can only do so much. You need to stand out more and get everyone to pay attention because you might have something important to say. And if they ignore you, keep going until they finally hear you.

Also, express how you truly feel. No matter how big or small you may seem, you have the power to do anything. And you have plenty of friends who will stand by your side when you need them. A true friend can be a hero to you and to others. They will never give up on you as you may never give up on them.

Never underestimate how one good deed can effect others. When you reach for the sky to your goals and help others, nothing is impossible for you. But never forget that others will help you as well, but sure to thank them... And thank them again.

And be yourself. Some people may not accept you for who you are, but they do not rule your existence. Only you can find the path right for you. You are free to live, to love, to express yourself however you see fit. And who knows, you might find others who will accept you and join you on your journey.

That's right, be true to yourself. And be strong in the most dire situation. You can get through to anything and anyone you set your mind to. No matter who you are, be true and be brave. Never stop your story until you find that ending you want. You can be the hero of that story.

Have faith in your friends and family. They can mean a lot to you. They you may not see eye to eye, you have a bond that won't break so easily. When you find common ground and work out a compromise, you an accomplish what you need to do.

(I can't believe I'm saying this, but I guess it's true.) Trust is also a known factor in becoming a hero. Though trusting others is not easy, they may trust you. You need to trust some people to know the world more. So I guess you shouldn't leave those you care about out... (I still can't believe I'm saying stuff like this.)

(Relax, you're doing fine.) And don't let anyone say you can't do something you care about doing so much. It may be difficult at times, just work through it and you might find your lucky break and raise to your dream. This is an important factor.

Kotetsu: You have shown us so much love and support these past 12-13 years and hope you will continue to d so for another 12-13.

Barnaby: We don't know how or if our story will continue, but we hope you'll still be there for us as we'll be there for you.

Heroes of Sternbild: Let's believe HEROES!

I chose to write this in the Tiger & Bunny 2 Day post because, when it comes to deciding which pair ended up being most dear to my heart, I can't decide between Wild Bunny or HIT Black. Still, I hope you will like this.

[indigobackfire]

From THIS character interview prompt by @creativestalkerrs if y'all wanna try it too ;)

1. Who or what challenges you?

Ind: Everything and everyone's a challenge to a Gryffindor. [Laughs] Rakepick was quite the challenge to me, both in regards to my magical capabilities and my morality. Barnaby's family is one damn challenge for our relationship. Friendship challenges my selfishness, therefore it challenges me.

Pho: I believe I am my biggest challenge to overcome, my own anger and fears. I don't see other people as challenges.

Asp: I think people see me as a challenge so my challenge is deconstructing people's idea of me. Does it make sense? Maybe I'm not good with good first impressions, I suppose.

Ach: Grief. It challenges me in the way it never ends, you'll probably miss the people you lose forever. And ignorant people often challenge my patience.

2. What makes you feel unsafe?

Ind: Not knowing. Ignorance is bliss, but I'm always shown enough to leave me uneasy but not enough that I understand. So I suppose it's more than knowing, it's understanding. It's a very Ravenclaw thing to say, isn't it? Makes me sound like my Ma.

Pho: People who don't listen and unpredictable people. [He reflects for a second and laughs] Sounds like my siblings. They're a danger to themselves and it makes me uneasy.

Asp: Being powerless.

Ach: My feelings. Is it a paradox? Maybe. But I mean in the way my feelings make me vulnerable, both for love and anger and whatever feelings exist in between and beyond.

3. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?

Ind: From previous experiences, I'd like to be a house cat. As person it's redundant, it'd still be me.

Pho: I've always wanted to be a tree. I guess it's not a very thrilling life, but it's a long fulfilling experience. I'd be a Baobab!

Asp: As a very annoying crow.

Ach: I'd like to be reborn as someone less effed up. Or like a cool sea creature, like a kelpie or a shark.

4. Were you voted ��most likely” for anything in your class yearbook? (I'll make this into a 'what would you be')

Ind: Most likely to go insane. Or to die young...

Pho: To be a Veela. [Chuckles] I don't know... most likely to travel the world. I hope.

Asp: Most likely to be arrested. Or or most likely to become Minister for Magic. Not hat I want to be that, I just think people would assume I would. It's either sink or swim with me.

Ach: Most likely to become a pro quidditch player. A bit boring but people don't know much about me beyond that.

5. Do you think some people in certain situations might be more valuable than others?

Ind: Again with those words. Well, if you're talking about functionality, yes. I always trust Penny to help me with potions, but I don't turn to her when regarding creatures or duelling. As for the value of life, we're equally deserving.

Pho: Maybe. But it's such a difficult thing to measure... People who can keep themselves in control are quite reliable.

Asp: Yes, sure. We're all good at different things.

Ach: Certainly.

6. If you were to enter food-eating contest what would you want the food to be?

Ind: Sweet roasted nuts, especially cashews. It's making me salivate just thinking about it.

Pho: Flaky pastries. Though I'd probably lose, my stomach gets upset very easily, but I'd have fun.

Asp: Grapes. I could eat grapes all day long. All kinds of grape, with or without seeds, doesn't matter.

Ach: Chocolate.

7. What type of journalist would you be?

Ind: Sneaky and untrusting. I would be good, but I wouldn't be ethical [Smiles].

Pho: A good one. I think I'm a good writer. But then I'm a little too trusting... I'd be a better editor than journalist.

Asp: I've considered working for the Daily Prophet, but mostly cause I wish to kick Rita Skeeter out of there. That lying b-

Ach: If I liked talking to people more... Beyond that aspect, I certainly be great, I'm not one to shy away from conflict.

8. Have you ever rescued anyone or anything?

Ind: I've rescued a cat, my dear Mocha. Oh, and my stupid older brother, Jacob.

Pho: I often rescue my best friend from some pickles. I'm too nice, borderline naive, but he's worse and he lets people use him and his good will, so I often have to step in to keep his best interest. Ha, I'm sounding like my mom.

Asp: My cousin, Indigo, several times, she's a mess. And my fellow housemates. Are you even a Slytherin if you're not willing to lie for each other? Don't answer that. And my boyfriend, don't let that big head fool you, he's got a cherry pepper there instead of a brain.

Ach: Myself. In my heart I believe I rescued Indigo from... no, no, don't write that.

9. Do you blame someone or something for the way your life is turning out?

Ind: Jacob. Just kidding... kinda. Not everything is his fault, a lot of it is R- Forget it. I guess I have a curse in my blood and that isn't anybody else's fault.

Pho: Our ends are self made.

Asp: I'm always angry at the world and almost everyone in it, but my life is mine.

Ach: Yes. With names and surnames.

10. What wild animal deserves our protection?

Ind: They don't have to deserve it being protected. Especially considering we would probably be protecting them from ourselves, amongst themselves they're in harmony and when the harmony on its own breaks so far, a new ecosystem has been created. Sorry, for the rambling, my boyfriend's a magizoologist.

Pho: Deserve is a weird word... I guess I'm biased towards birds, if I had to choose, they're important pollinators.

Asp: [Shrugs] Mosquitos certainly don't. And those freaky acromantulas.

Ach: All of them. Animals lack consciousness like humans have, they're not cruel or just, they're on instinct, what would they do to deserve protection or not? Unless you're being disgustingly utilitarian.

[tigerandbunnyftw]

In lead up to Season 2, Namco Bandai Pictures have been releasing comments from the staff involved with this new season, known as the “Staff & Cast - Comment Relay”. 

These comments are released on the first day of every month over on the T&B twitter, and full posts are over on the T&B website (Japanese only).

So far 7 comments have been released from both the staff and cast, starting with series’ character/hero designer, Masakazu Katsura! 

Please note that I am paraphrasing the first two comments, so any lovelies willing to help translate the first two comments (or just help in general), let me know!

(Series’ Character design / hero design) - Link Katsura has been focusing hard on the character design, specifically for the new Hero suits for Wild Tiger and Barnaby, referred to as “Style 3“. The theme is “standard and fresh” looking. So please look forward to it!

(Series composition / screenplay / story director) - Link 

Nishida confirmed that there was history of starting and stopping the project over the last 9 years. So he was worried whether the project would actually take shape one day, but was uplifted when the higher staff finally gave the green light. 

Nishida feels that T&B is a work created by the power of all the cast staff and the support of the fans. He wrote something that they found interesting and hopes that fans will be pleased with it.

He ends the comment by saying, the sequel will be announced more than 10 years after the original work. Tiger, Barnaby, Nathan, Karina, Antonio, Keith, Paolin, Ivan and friends. He hopes that we will enjoy and accept all of their changed and unchanged parts, and think that the enemy characters in this season will be slightly different, than those who appeared in the original series and movies.

The following 3 comments were translated by anon over on 4chan (thank you!)

(Screenplay writer -  (TB episodes 15 & 23, “T&B The Comic” writer with illustrator Ueda Hiroshi manga, Hero's Day videogame, Double Decker screenplay writer) - Link

>Q: How did you feel about receiving an offer to participate in the Tiger & Bunny 2 production? >EY: It's a great honor to once again become part of the writing team. The series is very special to me - you could say it made me who I am today, since I've been with for so long. From the original TV show, the manga series I wrote with Mr. Ueda, the game, or the recitations, the series has taught me a lot. >When I first joined the writing team for the first season, Barnaby and I were both rookies, but now I'm a something of a mainstay, not unlike Kotetsu. I dearly wish I can now return the favor to the series using the experience I have gained over these years.

>Q: Is there anything you particularly focus on when writing the scenario? >EY: I want Taibani to be a series that makes people happy and gives hope to those watching it. That said, I emphasize the growth and change the heroes have gone through over the course of the first season and the movies. After all, more than a decade will have passed since the first season aired. As time passes and worldviews shift, I intend to depict both things that never change and things that have to change. >Q: Please tell use your message for the fans waiting for S2. >EY: It is your long-lasting love and support that has allowed us to weave this story about the heroes once again. For this, you have my heartfelt thanks. I think the fans understand what I mean when I say the series has been a part of our life. I can't wait to share and experience the new Taibani story with you all. >Let us stay safe, so we can enjoy the new season in sound health and bright spirits.

(Screenplay writer - T&B episodes 6,8 & 18, V-Residence T&B web VN, usually a live action actor)

>Q: How did you feel about receiving an offer to participate in the Tiger & Bunny 2 production? >NK: "Wait, we're doing this? Really? Oh wow...." >I also thought, "Hmm, it's been almost 10 years, so things can't change too much, but they also can't be too static". >And then I was like "Alright! I'm just gonna write what I think is interesting and I'm gonna write the hell out of it!" >Q: Is there anything you particularly focus on when writing the scenario? >NK: I'm really careful to make sure I can hear the character's voice in my head when I writing. The series' characters have very strong and distinctive voices. >Q: Please tell use your message for the fans waiting for S2. >NK: It's a sequel that comes after more than a decade. I think the very fact that T&B has so many fans who have loved and waited for it so long is a miracle and I am very grateful to you all.

>With the corona pandemic going on, I feel like we can't spend as much time just enjoying things with others. So I really wish that S2 will be something for us to band together and enjoy as one. It's great that we can once again watch the same work and share the joy and hype on social media, just like we did before.

(Screenplay writer - live action screenwriter e.g. Kamen Rider/ Kakegurui live action movie)

>Q: How did you feel about receiving an offer to participate in the Tiger & Bunny 2 production? >MT: My hands were literally shaking, I'm serious. When the first season aired I was still in high-school, getting together with my friends after lessons and going "Wow, this week's T&B episode was awesome!". >Joy, sense of responsibility, excitement, pressure... It all came crashing on me together, so I just kind of started twitching. >Q: Is there anything you particularly focus on when writing the scenario? >MT: I mustn't betray the fans' expectations. At the same time, however, I must write a show that even people unfamiliar with the franchise can enjoy. It can't be just a doujin. It's not a vehicle for my ego. More than anything, the show must be fun and interesting. Writing the show felt like threading a microfiber cloth with a micro-sized needle. >Q: Please tell use your message for the fans waiting for S2. >MT: There are very few series that have been loved as long and as deeply by so many people. And I believe we have created a work that can take and embrace all that huge amount of love head on. >Please wait just a little while longer.

>Q: Please tell us your feelings after receiving the production announcement of "TIGER & BUNNY 2". >HH: Every corner of your muscles is always OK! >Q: Please give a message to the fans who are waiting for your work. EDIT - Thanks coolboxofcandy for the suggestion. 

>HH: Get ready to roar at your fullest!"

>Q: Please tell us your feelings after receiving the production announcement of "TIGER & BUNNY 2".

>MK: As one of the performers, I'm really happy to decide on the sequel, but as one of the fans, I can't help but wonder if various mysteries that haven't been solved will be solved.

Just like before, I wondered if I could enjoy the moment of reading the script with excitement, and I'm looking forward to it! I want to start recording soon!

>Q: Please give a message to the fans who are waiting for your work. >MK: Actually... I read the script of the first episode first!

“Well! That 's right!" 

"Wow ! That person is that!"

"I see! That's right!" 

It was the first episode full of surprises. I'm already worried about future developments! Fans, this is an incident! Please look forward to it!

And those were comments that have been released so far. Look forward to more comments in the future!

[imagines-by-rose]

New Recruit - Part 4

Hello again! This one took a bit longer than I’d meant it to, but I’m glad to say it’s finally here. Hope you like it!

Summary: Y/n is brought into Kingsman as Lancelot after the events leading to Roxy’s death, and Eggsy is furious. As the two work together to stop a notorious jewel thief, however, attitudes change - and feelings develop.

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Genre: Angst w/ a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Gun Violence, Blood, Near Death Experience, Cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tower of London stood strong against the black curtain of the night. The bright lights cast upon its face drew long shadows across imposing brickwork. Cold winds whipped round dotted crenulations, making the castle seemingly hum with life. Y/n stared in fascination, excitedly wondering what she’d find inside.

Eggsy, on the other hand, only had eyes for her. His heart warmed at the happiness in her features.

“Can you imagine what this castle must have seen?” Y/n asked no one in particular, her face transfixed out the window of the car. “It was built, what, a thousand years ago? Just think of the stories it could tell.”

Eggsy chuckled, pulling her attention toward him.

“What?” she smirked.

“Nothing, love. Just enjoying your excitement, is all. We haven’t even been inside yet.”

Y/n beamed. “Oh, I can’t wait! I bet it’ll be absolutely breathtaking.”

Eggsy kissed her cheek. “I’m sure you will,” he whispered.

Merlin cleared his throat from the front seat, his smiling eyes glinting at the two agents through the rearview mirror. “I hope you lovebirds haven’t forgotten why we’re here. Remember the mission, first and foremost.”

“Of course” Eggsy gave with a nod.

“Ivanov should be planning to steal the diamond before its unveiling. Keep an eye out during the procession and stop her before she gets the chance, understood? Best case scenario, the event carries on as normal and nobody is the wiser. In and out.”

“Nice to finally be on a relatively quick mission, innit?” Eggsy joked, hands coming to rest behind his head. “Not everyday we don’t have to go in expectin’ a total shootout.”

“Aye. But don’t let your guard down; Ivanov is likely to have armed help. Always be prepared for what may happen.”

Y/n swallowed. Her training helped her keep her mind clear in dire situations, sure, but there was no substitute for the real thing. She chastised herself for forgetting the dangers of her job, even if for a moment. She’d be damned if she put Eggsy’s life in jeopardy; as a rookie or otherwise.

Eggsy sensed her unease and took her hand.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright, love. Nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”

She laced her fingers with his.

“Yeah.”

*  *  *  *  *  *

The thick air of the crowded lobby was a welcome change from the winter chill outside. Voices resonated against the stone walls as elegantly clad patrons engaged in light conversation. Y/n recognized nearly every face, keeping a sharp eye on those which were unfamiliar. No sign of Ivanov so far, but one can never be too careful.

“Would sir care for a drink?”

Eggsy didn’t hesitate, slipping into character with practiced ease. “Martini. Gin -- not vodka, obviously -- stirred for ten seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of vermouth. Thank you.”

Y/n fondly rolled her eyes at Eggsy’s request, bringing her hand to her lips to suppress a laugh.

The bartender nodded, turning to y/n. “And for you, madame?”

“A French 75, please.”

“Right away, of course.”

The waiter took off towards the bar, and the two were left to wander the lobby. Y/n wrung her hands anxiously. Her eyes darted round the room, scrutinizing every unfamiliar face for signs of a threat. She acutely felt the cold metal of the pistol strapped to her leg beneath her emerald gown. It was reassuring, in a way.

Eggsy bent down to whisper in her ear, his hand settling in its newfound home above her hip.

“You’re doing fine, love. No need to be nervous. Merlin said this should be an in-and-out mission anyway; mingle, detain Ivanov, and protect the diamond. Nice and easy for your first time in the field, yeah?”

Y/n nodded, relaxing slightly.

The waiter returned, two drinks set on a silver platter. White gloves meticulously presented the agents with delicate crystalline goblets, which they accepted gracefully.

Y/n took a sip of her cocktail. “I’m just paranoid, I guess. Any face I don’t recognize from the dossier I just assume is an enemy. It’s like there are eyes watching us from every angle.”

Eggsy pressed a quick kiss to her temple.

“It’s always good to be aware. I’ve been watching them, too. Don’t let it distract you; just keep those faces in your sights and you’ll be alright.” He smirked. “You forget we’re armed to the teeth, love. If anyone tries anything they won’t get very far.”

The two agents waded through a sea of luxurious outfits and exquisite accessories, saying pleasantries to those they recognized from their research and all the while scanning the room for anything suspicious. During a tedious affair with a rather pompous Mr. Barnaby, y/n’s eyes fell on Ivanov standing by the window.

“Clive, dear, suddenly I feel lightheaded. If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Barnaby, but I think I need some air.”

The man’s beady eyes widened. “Good heavens! Are you unwell, miss?”

“Love, are you alright?” Eggsy asked, concerned, before picking up y/n’s signal as she eyed the alcove to their left. Ivanov was there, looking toward the display case in the center of the room. She was speaking through an earpiece discreetly enough to go unnoticed by anyone not paying close attention.

Y/n leaned into Eggsy slightly, feigning weakness. “I’ll be fine. I’d like to sit by the window for a while, if that’s alright. The heat from the crowd is stifling. Clive, would you mind coming with me?”

“Of course, darling.”

Once the two were out of Barnaby’s sight, Eggsy set his watch to stun, and broke off from y/n, who had her pistol at the ready. The two advanced on Ivanov from either side, closing in as they weaved through the crowd.

An abrupt warning shouted from above, and Ivanov ducked.

It was then that Eggsy heard the gunshot.

*  *  *  *  *  *

The shot was deafening against the stone walls. Eggsy’s ears rang, a shrill white noise that cut through the panicked screams of the crowd. People clamored toward the exit, trampling over each other to safety. Eggsy took advantage of the quickly emptying room and located the source. One man stood still in the chaos -- Ivanov’s lackey, no doubt -- his gun still held outward, and Eggsy eliminated him with deadly precision. Ivanov was nowhere to be seen.

Shit! She must have escaped with the crowd.

Eggsy looked to the display case to find the diamond safe behind glass. A small victory, then. Once he was sure there were no other threats, he scanned the room for y/n. She was standing eerily still at the wall across the room, her face pallid and confused. She brought a shaking hand to her ribs, and when she drew it back Eggsy saw it was bathed in blood.

No. No, no.

He saw her eyes slip shut, her head loll back.

Suddenly the distance between them felt like leagues. His thoughts focused solely on reaching her.

He bolted, catching her just before her head hit the hardwood floor.

Eggsy quickly reached for his glasses, sending a distress signal. “Merlin! Merlin, Lancelot’s been shot. Get the evac team here now!”

“I’m sending for them, Eggsy. Try to slow the bleeding, they’ll be there in five minutes!”

Y/n’s chest was already soaked with blood, her once green gown growing black as pitch. Eggsy gently laid her down and pressed his palms over the wound, trying not to think of what the pressure would undoubtedly do to her ribs.

Worry about that later. Keep her alive, that’s your only goal. Just keep her alive!

She groaned at the contact, unfocused eyes blearily darting around the room from behind heavy lids. Her brows furrowed from the pain.

“Egg..sy…w-what are you -- st-stop, please, it hurts….”

Eggsy drew in a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry, love, but I have to stop the bleeding.”

She whimpered.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry y/n.”

Eggsy fought the urge to vomit when her blood began to seep through his fingers. This was a fear he’d never felt before. Primal, consuming, cold.

Keep her awake. Talk to her. Just keep her alive!

“You’re gonna be alright, love.” he cooed. “Merlin will get the evac team here in no time, yeah? Just hold on a little bit longer.”

A wet cough answered him, specks of crimson falling around her mouth.

Fuck. Fuck!

Eggsy was shaking now, the thought of losing her terrifying him.

He pressed harder on the wound. “Merlin, I think her lung’s been punctured. Where’s the fucking evac team?!”

“They’re on their way, Eggsy! Just hang in there as long as you can, they’re almost there!” Merlin’s voice pierced through the radio static, its tremor poorly hidden.

Eggsy turned back to y/n, his reassuring smile not meeting his tearful eyes. “You hear that, love? The evac team is almost here. Stay with me, y/n.”

Just keep her alive. Just keep her alive!

The sting of panic consumed him when he saw her eyes had glossed over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This was one of my favorite parts to write. I hope you all enjoyed it, and keep an eye out for the next one!

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: Okay this is a big one, I wrote this over the course of like 3 days I think? Anyway I hope you like it because it's probably the longest chapter I've ever written for one of my stories <3

Chapter One

It was just five in the morning when Adaline Miller woke up. Her head still a little groggy from a decent night’s sleep and her fading dreams. She turned to see Joel still asleep beside her; his gentle snores muffled into his pillow. She smiled and leaned over kissing his bare shoulder before rolling out of bed to get ready for her day.

Stepping downstairs towards the kitchen, Ada realised just how cold it was when she noticed how frosted over the windows had become overnight. Ada hated winter. It was her least favourite season. After everything that had happened almost five years ago it wasn’t hard to understand why. Even now she still sometimes had nightmares about it.

Waking up to find Joel cold in his bed; his stomach wound torn open. Blood everywhere. Or finding Ellie beaten and bruised, left alone in that burned out restaurant.

Joel had always been there to console her, holding her until she calmed down. His voice low to just a whisper as he told her everything was okay. She was safe. He was there and he wasn’t ever going to leave.

It was a comfort she appreciated even after being married to the man for just under four years.

Stepping through into the kitchen, the brunette quickly got to work preparing some eggs on the stove for breakfast before moving across the counter to make up a pot of coffee for herself and Joel. She still wasn’t totally sure what her husband had traded for the beans; but Joel had seemed rather embarrassed by it for some reason. Though after finally getting to taste coffee again after so long, she didn’t much care she supposed. After the hot water was boiled she poured the beverage out, setting aside Joel’s favourite owl mug for when he came down.

Joel had always been an early riser and more often than not, he was almost always the one that beat her to the kitchen in the morning. It had taken some time after settling in Jackson to actually get the man to finally relax a little. It was unfortunate for Ada that he had taken that to mean ‘no sleeping in past seven’. Even on days off, Joel was up before the sun. Lucky Ada had found her own ways to at least keep him in bed past seven on those days; sleeping or otherwise. Thankfully Joel never complained.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the creaking of the stairs as Ada glanced up to meet eyes with Joel. His arms stretched above his head and suppressing a yawn. He stepped through the door, his hand dropping to scratch at his bearded chin.

“Morning darlin’.” Joel slurred, heading straight for his coffee mug. “Hold on...why are you dressed already?” Ada questioned. Her egg covered spoon gesturing at him in his winter gear. Joel followed her gaze, his brows raised in confusion. “I thought you weren’t on patrol until this afternoon.” She clarified.

“Oh yeah...forgot to tell you last night. Change of plans. Tommy’s gotten word of a horde gathering near the ski lodge.” He explained between sips, leaning against the counter, crossing one foot over the over. “Reckon we needed to deal with it quickly before it gets to be a problem.”

Ada pouted but said nothing, her gaze turning from Joel back to her scrambled eggs on the stove. Joel sighed abandoning his mug on the side as he moved across towards her. His arms wrapping around her waist and resting his chin over her shoulder.

“I can hear you thinking.” He said lowly into her ear. But again Ada said nothing. He sighs moving to kiss her neck but she turns her head away as he does.

He hates this. He hates when she worries. It’s always the same routine when he heads out for clean up duty. Clearing out infected is never an easy job but it is what keeps Jackson safe. They both know that. But still whenever he’s due to leave for another job, Ada goes quiet. She’s distant and he fucking hates it.

It was the same when Ellie first asked to train for patrol, they’d been reluctant. And while they were both well aware of Ellie’s skills and her strength; it was still hard watching their baby girl in such a hurry to go out alone without them.

His arms around her waist squeeze gently as he pulls her close to his chest, his head over her shoulder stealing a kiss on her cheek.

“Baby please stop worrying, I’ll be fine.” He knew it was a foolish thing to promise because the world they lived in wasn’t safe. You never knew what the next day would bring. But if there was anything in this world Joel would find to fight for; it was coming home to his wife. His family.

Ada dumped the cooked eggs onto the plates laid out, they were a little burned on the edges. She hadn’t been paying that much attention to them if she was honest. Then turned in her husband’s arms to face him.

“Back by dinner or I kick your ass.” She warned playfully. “Deal.” He chuckled, pulling her close as their lips met in a kiss.

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It didn’t take long for Ada to get to the stables when she’d finished breakfast. After reluctantly pulling herself from Joel’s arms; they’d both parted ways as the older man went to meet his brother at the gate.

She’d quickly threw herself into her list of jobs for the day, hoping it would take her mind off her worry.

“Morning Max.” She smiled at the stable hand, walking through to the back room. “Mornin’ Ada, whadda we got today?” he grinned in reply, his frame leaning through the door as she tidied her workspace. Collecting all her notes and paperwork together.

“Well Daisy has been lame for a couple days so she needs to stay on box rest. Then I need King and Blue tacked up before noon.” She explained, her eyes never leaving the sheets of paper in her hand. “Bob and Maggie are headed out on patrol so they need them ready before half twelve.”

“You got it boss!” Max assured with a joyful grin, sending her a mock salute. She chuckled at the old man as he disappeared from the doorway, but she quickly caught up to him, catching herself on the wooden frame.

“Oh! Could you also take Barnaby out into the paddock this morning please? He had a touch of colic yesterday and I want to keep his gut moving to make sure it’s passed.” She explained. Max simply nodded and turned to make a start on his duties. Ada always liked Max. He was an older gentleman, around seventy years old but still incredibly fit for his age. He’d arrived in Jackson a few years after herself, Ellie and Joel. Along with his grandsons from somewhere near Montana. Having the experience of running his own ranch before the Outbreak; he’d been the perfect fit to help Ada run the stables and take care of the horses.

She continued through until around nine o’ clock, just making the finishing touches to the poultice she’d wrapped around the gelding’s leg she was treating. “There ya go buddy.” She cooed sweetly, giving the horse a soft scratch behind the ears as he nickered in reply.

“Morning Ada!” A familiar voice greeted as the brunette moved to close the stable door closed behind her. “Morning Dina, you out on patrol this morning?”

“Yep, heading out on the creek trails with Ellie.” She smiled, Ada quickly returning it as they both looked to Ellie walking through the door. “How’s my boy?” Dina asked, grabbing Ada’s attention once again.

“Oh he’s fine, Japan had a little mud fever but I think we got it under control now. He’s good to go. All tacked up for you with Max down there.” Dina gave her a quick thumbs up and threw a thanks over her shoulder as she ran down towards the back of the barn. Leaving the woman alone with her adoptive daughter who slowly trailed behind.

“Good morning sunshine. How are you feeling this morning?” She teased. Ellie rolled her eyes at her mother’s smirk.

“Oh jeez don’t. I already got half the town giving me weird looks.” She whined. After the dance the night before, her kiss with Dina, Seth drunk and aggressively harassing the girls; it had certainly been the talk of the town the following morning. Ellie was just hoping she could outlive the embarrassment.

“So you and Dina patrolling together huh? That should be interesting. Have you talked to her yet?” “Ugh mom stop!” Ellie hissed softly, her lips twitching into a subtle smile.

“What? I like her, she’s a sweet girl. You two would be so cute together.” The teen stifled a giggle as she playfully shoved her mom’s shoulder, the older woman chuckling in return. “Shut up.”

The laughter faded when Ada sighed in thought, Ellie glancing back knowing what was coming next. Her gaze immediately falling to her feet.

“You uh...you talk to Joel yet?” She asked cautiously. For the past two years; it had been a sore subject for Ellie whenever Ada brought Joel up in conversations. After finding out the truth back in Salt Lake; she’d been so angry at both of them for everything they had kept from her. But after learning that Joel had been the one that pulled the trigger. That one that had made that decision for all of them and acted alone, she’d declared she wanted nothing more to do with him. And while it had been hard for Ada to be stuck in the middle; she’d still tried her damn hardest to build a bridge between them.

“A little...but one conversation isn’t going to fix everything.” She mumbled. Her foot kicking at the mud covered floor, eyes never leaving the ground.

“It’s a start though. Baby he really misses you.” she said. “I know. I still don’t know if I can forgive him for what he did though. But I am willing to try.” Ellie said softly, her hands now pulling at her jacket sleeves. “I uh...I was thinking of maybe inviting him over for a movie night tomorrow. If that’s okay?”

Ada smiled at this. It had been hard with Ellie not speaking to Joel for so long, watching the man she loved struggle with losing a daughter that no longer wanted anything to do with him. It was obvious he was hurting even if he never said the words out loud. He missed Ellie, he’d be so grateful to hear she wanted to do movie night again, for the first time in so long.

“Of course it is. When you get back from patrol we’ll figure something out okay? Joel’s out with Tommy but he should be back by dinner.”

Ellie simply nodded with a timid smile before turning towards Max waiting with Shimmer.

“Hang on, gotcha some lunch. I still worry you ain’t eating enough.” Ada shouted after her, reaching into her backpack to hand her daughter the pack of food she’d prepared.

“Thank you!” Dina called before Ellie had the chance to reply, swiping the pack out of Ada’s hand. “Hey! She said my lunch!” Ellie poked in jest. The teen simply scoffed peaking through the bag to see what was inside. “Our lunch...there’s plenty for both of us. Let’s see; turkey sandwiches, nice.” Dina continued snooping through the pack while Ellie merely rolled her eyes as Ada stood with folded arms smirking at the two. They really were cute together.

“Oh shit! No way, Ellie there’s cookies in here! Awesome! Thanks Ada!”

Ada laughed at Dina’s joy as Ellie reluctantly followed behind, snatching the packed lunch back and stuffing it into her bag before Dina could complain.

“Ugh I haven’t had cookies since I was a kid. I fucking love your mom, she’s just the best.” Dina complimented as she mounted Japan, taking the reins and walking the gelding out into the snow, Ellie not far behind on Shimmer. The young girl turned back to take one last glance at her mother brushing down another horse, a smile lighting up her face.

“Yeah, yeah she is.” Ellie agreed.

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After such an early start, Ada was pleased when the day was beginning to draw to an end. She’d not stopped the whole day and she was tired.

When the time came to feed and bed down the horses for the night, she was more than ready to head home, eat dinner, maybe snuggle up to Joel on the couch to watch a movie and call it a day. She’d already sent Max home to his boys when she finished up the last of her routine checks to close up the barn; when she’d been ambushed by both Jesse and Dina.

They both looked terrified, Dina with tear stained cheeks and Jesse breathless and shell shocked like he’d just run for miles without taking a second to breathe.

The brunette couldn’t remember much of what was said when they’d bombarded her with information. Only that something bad had happened and it had happened to Joel.

A thousand thoughts had rushed through her head at once. A flash of images muddled with the white noise that squealed in her ears the closer she ran towards the infirmary. Her nightmare was coming true and she felt like she was drowning. Lost in a dark ocean of uncertainty, falling without a lifeline to hold on to.

When she burst through the doors, Tommy was the first to reach her. She winced aghast at seeing his injuries. His swollen black eye, the deep bloodied gash on his forehead. She felt numb as her brother in law explained what had happened. What those bastards had done to her husband. Shot and beaten mercilessly. Her heart ached, her eyes raw from the tears she’d cried. And what made the whole thing worse, was that Ellie had been there to see the whole thing.

Ada had tried to brace herself before stepping into Joel’s room, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. Ellie was sat slumped over his bedside, her hand clinging to his as he lay unconscious. The scuff of her mother’s boots grabbing her attention as she rose to her feet and met her halfway when Ada rushed towards her with open arms.

“Mom!” Ellie whimpered and it reminded her all too much of that night all those years ago. Ada squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled Ellie closer, her heart beating in her ears.

“Oh baby girl.” She soothed, her hand gently stroking her back for comfort. “I tried…” Ellie hiccuped. “I tried to stop them. I begged them to stop but they wouldn’t listen. And I told Joel to get up, just fucking get up.” Her voice broke as the girl choked back another sob and Ada couldn’t help her own tears as she listened silently. Gently guiding Ellie back to Joel’s bedside so she could sit, all the while the mother never once letting go of her daughter.

“I told him to get up, but it was like he’d just given up.” She explained quietly. Her shaking hands reaching up to wipe at her sore bloodshot eyes. Her cheeks and nose reddened from her tears. “The doctor said he needs to be asleep for a while, something about something needing time to settle?! I don’t fucking know!” She shouted in frustration, almost collapsing from exhaustion in her chair.

Ada merely nodded solemnly. Tommy had partly explained before she’d rushed to Joel. The doctor had insisted on keeping Joel sedated to give the brain time to heal itself while the swelling subsides. Ada just hoped it wouldn’t take too long for him before he was able to wake up.

As the night drew on Ellie had finally given in to her fatigue, stretching on the old beat up couch in the corner of the room. Tommy had thoughtfully brought her a blanket and a bag of clothes for the girls before heading home himself, Ada swearing that she would send Ellie the second they had any news on his brother.

It wasn’t until then that Ada had the still and the silence of the night did she truly take in Joel’s injuries. His leg, broken and mangled. It had been a damn miracle that they’d even be able to save it. But there had been a reasonable amount of confidence it would eventually heal, though Joel would definitely have some difficulty getting around at first and most likely a permanent limp afterwards; he was damn lucky in that respect.

His head injuries however were a different story. There were still flecks of dried blood in patches of his dark head where the club had struck. Patches of hair cut away, close to the scalp in order to reach the violent blows into his crown. Deep cuts and dark bruises covered his handsome face. A good chunk of his ear was missing, she’d noticed as she softly brushed her fingers through his hair in a feeble attempt to clean him up. It had been treated and neatly stitched but would most likely leave a scar.

Her lips trembled as a quiet sob worked its way up into her throat, her eyes blurred from the welling tears the longer she looked at him.

She should have been there...Why hadn’t she been there?!

The days went by and Joel still hadn’t woken up. The doctor took him off sedation a few days after the attack, in the hopes he would come around on his own. The endless nights slowly dragging by, each holding with it a suffocating pause that felt to be drawing out longer and longer. Like the string of a bow, pulling tighter and tighter until it was closely reaching its breaking point, a moment of holding strong until it was too much to bear.

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It had been exactly nine days later when Joel eyelids flickered. His fingers twitched and convulsed as he finally began to regain consciousness.

A string of mumbles and panicked gasps uttered from his dry lips as he stirred awake. And Ellie and Ada were right there beside him. The young girl skidding on her heel as she took off through the door in order to grab Tommy.

“Joel? Can you hear me?” Ada asked delicately. Her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Tentatively reaching out to place her hand upon his as he moved to face her with squinted eyes.

“Wher...Where?” He tried to speak. His voice low and rough like gravel. It strained against his dry throat. Ada quickly moving to his bedside to help him drink from the glass of water placed beside him.

He winced but managed a few mouthfuls before lowering himself back down against his pillow. His tired eyes darted around the room, breath quickening and short the more the confusion set in as to how he’d ended up there.

“You're in the infirmary. You were out with Tommy and were attacked.” Ada explained carefully, Joel’s eyes drifting back towards her sat by his bedside. “Was anyone else hurt?” He asked. “Tommy got roughed up a little, bump on the head and a black eye. Couple of bruised ribs but he’ll be fine.”

Joel simply nodded at the information. His eyes never leaving Ada.

“Is Sarah okay? I assume she’s with Tommy, could you call her? Tell her I’m okay…” He spoke so casually, Ada almost didn’t hear what he’d said. But yet there was no change in his eyes as he asked the question. “How long do you reckon till I can head home?”

This question made Ada stop cold. Her heart slowing and her breath catching in her throat.

“Joel... do you know who I am?”

He looked at her like she was crazy, the confusion met in the touching of his dark brows creasing with his forehead. “Yeah, you’re my doctor.”

It was at that moment Ada almost collapsed. When she realised there was truly no hint of recognition in Joel’s eyes as he stared at her.

Her worst fear realised; her own husband saw her as a stranger.

[hphmmatthewluther]

HPHM April Prompts 2021: Day 4: Past, Present and Future Affection

@stupendousbookworm ‘s April Prompts continue, and this time we have a look at the growth of Matthew’s feelings for the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts, Merula Snyde, as the mystery of Matthew’s past begins to unravel!

Prompt # 4 - Who is MC's heartthrob? How did they meet? What do they have in common, and what do they disagree on?

It was a given throughout the Wizarding World that nothing was ever as it seemed, and the place where that was the most true had to be Hogwarts. You couldn’t even trust the ground you walked on, lest a plank of wood decided to slide out of the way, causing you to take one heck of a tumble. For most people who weren’t born into it, this was a rather irritating aspect of magic, but for someone like Matthew Luther, it wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world. “And so,” he was explaining one breakfast at the Ravenclaw table, “that’s why Peeves causes chaos.” There was a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ as the fourth years all helped themselves to some toast. “Wow, now I feel awful for all those times I’ve yelled at him.” Andre lamented. “Don’t worry, he says he enjoys the insults.” Matthew reassured him, “Still, I imagine he’ll focus on pranking the people who deserve it now.” “You never cease to amaze me, Matthew Luther,” said Tulip, pushing a few insects towards Dennis, “If you could figure that one out, there’s no secret that’s safe from you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Tulip.” The group turned around to see Merula Snyde standing before them, her violet eyes piercing Matthew’s. He’d always wondered about them, and whether or not they were real. Unfortunately, curious as he was, he had never found the courage to ask her. It just sounded a little...forward. “Good morning to you too, Merula.” said Matthew, turning around fully, “You’re looking...proud of yourself.” “Well, of course! Why wouldn’t the most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts be proud of herself?” “...Mm, fair point.” he admitted nonchalantly, helping himself to some toast. A flash of confusion crossed Merula’s face. She always did that whenever Matthew complimented her, and there was something about it that made Matthew want to see it again. “I, um...Seems like you’re finally seeing sense, then!” she declared, leaning over him. “Oh, Merula, for goodness’ sake...” Rowan began, but Matthew waved a hand at them. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” Matthew said, wiping the sleep from his eyes, “Sorry, God, I’m tired...” Merula smirked at that, and Matthew returned the expression. “Look, if you’re too tired right now, we can have our argument later.” Merula suggested, much to everyone’s surprise. Matthew chuckled, pushing the hair out of his eyes. Merula cleared her throat, looking for an answer. “Yeah, ok, sounds great. How’s Potions for you?” “Alright, we’re just reviewing today.” Rowan stared at them, flabbergasted. “Sorry, are you scheduling an argument?!”

“Is it a crime to be organised, Khanna?” Merula sneered, before turning back to Matthew. “Well, if that’s that...” “Actually...” began Matthew, his stomach starting to fold, “Wh-Why don’t you have breakfast with us?” Merula stared for a few moments, as if her brain had short-circuited. “L-Luther, you must be a bigger dolt than I realised. I’m not a Ravenclaw...though I’m smarter than most of you.” “That hasn’t stopped me!” yelled Barnaby with his mouth full, who was sitting a few seats away helping himself to some bacon. “Matthew asked me, and I said yes!” “That’s because you’re an idiot, Barnaby.” said Merula bluntly, before glaring at Matthew. “Why on earth would you think I’d say yes?” Matthew suddenly looked a little nervous. “I just, well...it’s, um...” he stammered, glancing over at the Slytherin table. There was Preston Crawford and his cronies, chucking food at some of the muggle-borns in Ravenclaw. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to sit at the Slytherin table this morning, okay?” he said, leaning forward slightly. He looked up at Merula, hoping she was picking up what he was saying. 

She stared down the Ravenclaw table, seeing not only Barnaby, but Liz Tuttle and Erika Rath. She looked down at Matthew, before slowly sitting next to him. Matthew felt his face burn, which didn’t make sense. They sat near each other in Potions, and that had never caused...anything. But something was different this time. They were right next to each other out of choice, and that made all the difference in the world. They slowly ate breakfast for a while, until Merula whispered: “Alright, Luther, what’s all this about?” Matthew grimaced, “It’s complicated. Peeves is a little, well, peeved at Preston, and by extension that whole group, and so...” It happened in an instant. The two turned around to see Slytherin table burst in two, a jet of what looked like Stinksap covering Preston and the other Slytherins. Then, Peeves emerged with a bucket in hand, cackling like a hyena. He put a pudgy hand into the bucket and pulled out several wads of gum, which he proceeded to chuck at the group. Matthew and Merula stared for a moment, before turning to look at each other. It didn’t take long for them both to descend into laughter.

“Did...Ha ha! Did you know...” Merula wheezed between laughs, almost falling off her seat. “No, no! I knew he’d...” Matthew had to pause to let out a huge laugh, “I knew he was planning something, but nothing on this scale!” Their laughter was far greater than most peoples, and before long a horde of Stinksap-and-gum-covered Slytherins began to lumber over each other to get to them. “We should really...” Merula said, trying and failing to pull herself together, “Merlin, they’re leaving stuff everywhere!” Matthew managed to come to his senses and grabbed Merula’s arm, pulling her away from Preston’s gooey reach. They sprinted out of the Great Hall, hand in hand, passing by a confused Professor Snape. “Mr Luther, Miss Snyde...” he began, before noticing the dozen or so Stinksapped Slytherins crawling around the Great Hall, as the rest of the school pointed and laughed. Peeves was still chucking chewing gum at them, all the while singing: “Slippery jerks are all about,

Spewing out nothing but junk,

I’ll make sure I gross ‘em out,

By covering them in gunk!”

Matthew and Merula stopped at a bench in the Lower East Wing of the school to catch their breath. They both crashed onto the seat, still giggling. “That was...” Merula said between breaths, “Merlin, that was hilarious...I’ve never seen a poltergeist go that ballistic...well, not in years, at least...” Matthew wanted to say something, but he was frankly too exhausted. He felt the energy leave his body, and found himself looking at Merula. He had never seen her laugh like this before, enough to make her nose wrinkle and her head tilt back, her mouth agape. “I guess you found it funny, too...” she continued, “You’ve gone bright red!” “I have?!” Matthew exclaimed. He felt a wave of embarrassment, but seeing Merula like this made him less than willing to ruin the moment. “I guess so...though, you’ve gone all pink!” he observed. He wasn’t wrong. The pink that usually adorned her cheeks had expanded to cover her nose too. There was something awfully familiar about it all…

“Um, yes, well...” she stammered, “Anyway, that was your first experience of a poltergeist’s full power, wasn’t it?”  To her surprise, Matthew shook his head. “Actually, there was one other time I saw a poltergeist. It was at the Ministry, funnily enough...” Merula’s smile turned to a look of curiosity. “Huh, so was that other one...” she said quietly. Matthew’s mouth opened and closed again. No...it couldn’t be… He’d never thought about it before. Of course she would have gone to Hogwarts, why on earth didn’t he look for her? “Merula...that poltergeist...” Matthew ventured, “It wouldn’t happen to have been...The Drifting Jester, would it?” Merula gasped. Matthew’s eyes widened. “It was you!”

***

It was a hot summer’s day, and the streets of London were filled, mostly, with sweaty commuters moving to and fro. But not completely. For within the crowd of people of all sorts that moved around the city, there was one thing that passers-by should have picked up on. A six year boy was walking down a street with a silver bracelet on his arm, and a piece of paper in his hand. He kept walking down street after street until he found a strangely empty street with a telephone box. The boy walked towards it, noticing an owl flying overhead. He almost went to chase after it, but this was more important. He had to make sure he didn’t get lost. Opening the telephone box by stretching onto his tiptoes, he stepped inside and jumped to pick up the receiver. He looked at the piece of paper in his hand and dialled the number on it. Then, there came the voice of a woman:

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic.” it said. “Please state your name and business.” “Hello!” the boy said cheerfully. “My name’s Matthew! Matthew Luther! I’m here to find my Mum! Do you-” “Thank you.” the voice interrupted, “Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.” There was a rattling noise, and something came out of the change chute. It was a badge that read “Matthew Luther, Looking for Mum.” Matthew smiled and pinned it onto his T-shirt. “Thank you!” he exclaimed. “Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.” There was a tremor, and the box began to sink into the ground. Matthew felt very nervous as the sunlight disappeared. Despite being very little, the box was still very small for him, and fears began to grow about this box stopping, and him being trapped, and-

But then the box was filled with light, and the door swung open. “The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day.” the box said. “You too!” Matthew said, relieved to be free from the small space. He was now in a large corridor with a blue ceiling, which had symbols that seemed to change every so often. To the sides were several green fires, which people were somehow going in and out of. At the end of the corridor was a giant golden fountain, with statues of a Man, a woman, a centaur, a creature with long ears and large eyes and another one with long ears but small eyes. Matthew couldn’t help but gasp. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. He supposed he would look for his mother. He looked around the corridor, but he couldn’t see anyone that looked like his mother. He moved around the fountain until he rested by a sign asking for donations. He was beginning to worry again. He had been told that his mother would be here. The piece of paper just said to look for her here. But this place, this Ministry, was so very big that Matthew had no idea where to start. His stomach grumbled. He’d missed breakfast to get here without his Dad noticing. He sank to his knees and sighed, trying to regain energy.

It was then that a  tall, slim woman came up to him. She looked like she was in her thirties, and had chestnut hair. My Mum has black hair, Matthew reminded himself. “Hello there,” she said, leaning down slightly, “Are you lost?” Matthew thought for a moment, and nodded. “I want to see my Mum,” he explained. From behind the woman came a young girl who looked the same age as Matthew. “Don’t worry, dear.” said the woman, “I can help you. Tell me, do you know which department your mother works in?” Matthew shook his head. “No. I know she has black hair and green eyes like mine, and that she works in the Ministry.” The woman looked a little confused for a moment. She gazed at him. “Do you...know your mother?” Matthew shook his head again. The girl, presumably her daughter, moved forward. “Mummy, how does that work?” she asked, “How come he doesn’t know his mother?” “I don’t know, songbird.” The woman says. “ But I’m getting to the bottom of this. Let’s see here...Matthew Luther...” she whispered.

“Yes, that’s right.” he said. Strange, he thought, their eyes are different...they’re pink!  The woman thought for a moment. “Hmm, I don’t know anyone called Luther in the Ministry...” she muttered, “H-How did you know to come here?” Matthew showed her the piece of paper. “A man gave it to me. He saved me from a monster, then said I could find my Mum here.” he explained. The woman read it, and her eyes widened. “My dear boy, I think I know where your mother is.” she announced, before turning to her daughter. “Songbird, I need you to keep an eye on him until I get back, alright?” The girl nodded, and the woman left. Matthew smiled, and the girl sat next to him. She got a small bag and pulled out an apple. “You look hungry.” she said, “You can have this.” “Thank you.” Matthew said, taking the apple and beginning to eat it. The girl looked at him. “Why don’t you know who your mother is?” she asked, pulling a sandwich out of her bag. “I don’t know.” replied Matthew. “She left, and took my brother with her. I don’t remember it well.” “That sounds sad.” she said. “It is sad. I like my brother. If I find my Mum, I want to see my brother too. That would be nice.”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and a newspaper stand was knocked over. A silvery figure appeared on top of it, hooting and banging a drum. “I am the Drifting Jester, hee hee hee!” he exclaimed, “Let’s have some fun!!” Within moments, a group of people moved forwards, with wands pointed at the figure. The Jester blew a raspberry at them, one so powerful it blew them away and covered them in saliva. Matthew and the girl found it absolutely hilarious. “Ha ha! They went right over there!” Matthew yelled, howling with laughter. “It was so loud! Poltergeists are disgusting!” giggled the girl, rolling around on the floor. They watched as the wizards got to their feet and hit the ghost with some sort of spell which forced the saliva back into its mouth. That only made the two of them laugh even more, until- “Little boy!” yelled the woman over the ruckus. She came up to him, gazing at the now restrained poltergeist. “I think I’ve found her. Come with me...”

***

“And then I saw my mother again.” Matthew finished explaining. “And I got to see my brother again, too...for a bit, at least.” Merula sighed. She had filled in for the bits that he hadn’t known, like how the woman was indeed her mother, Rosemary Snyde, and how they were there to carry out some business, which she now guessed was them acting as informants for the Death Eaters. “All that time we’ve been rivals...” she thought aloud… “I never even considered...” “I should have been the one to figure it out.” Matthew fumed, “I’m the one who makes connections, and who else has a strand of ginger hair and...well, and...” “Yes?” Matthew sighed. “There’s nobody else with eyes like yours...though, perhaps I did know...maybe that’s why I could never really call you my enemy...”

There was a silence. Then, Matthew looked down. In all that time, he hadn’t let go of Merula’s hand. “Oh, um, sorry, I’ll-” “It’s ok!” Merula said rather suddenly. “Look… maybe I… I’m sorry, alright! You’d lost your family once before, and you got them back, and then lost them again!” “Merula..” “And what did I do?! I just rubbed salt in the wound, I’ve been saying he’s-” “Merula! It’s alright!” he exclaimed, gripping Merula’s hand slightly. “I forgive you. I owe it to you. I haven’t always been kind about your family, and your mother helped me find mine!” There was another pause. The commotion from the Great Hall had died down now, Peeves had presumably been stopped and the Slytherins sent to the Hospital Wing. But this wasn’t what Matthew was preoccupied with. He was still clutching Merula’s hand, and neither of them were letting go. She felt slightly cold, but soft all the same. Matthew blinked. “But...if that’s the c-case...th-then...m-maybe we don’t have to...to be...mortal enemies...anymore...” he said, every sinew of bravery within him electrified into action. Merula smiled. “I...I’d like th-”

Suddenly, the door to the Transfiguration class opened, and Professor McGonagall stepped out. The two immediately retracted their hands and got up off the seats. “Ah, Miss Snyde. You are with me this morning for Transfiguration, are you not?” Merula nodded. “That’s right, Professor.” “And where is everyone else?” McGonagall asked, “Class is starting soon, and you two are the only ones around.” “Peeves started causing chaos during breakfast,” Matthew explained, “I imagine it caused some congestion.” Sure enough, people began moving through the corridors, as people realised just how late Peeves had made them. “My, my...” lamented McGonagall, “I hope this doesn’t affect our schedule for the Ball...” Matthew’s ears perked up at that. “The what?” “The Celestial Ball, Mr Luther, held every fifteen years.” McGonagall said, “You will find out more in due course. Now, if I were you I would head to your lesson.” Matthew nodded, and started to move away. Before he did, however, he gave a silent wave to Merula. She looked at him, with those violet eyes, and waved back, a genuine smile on her face. Matthew headed up the stairs, with dances and dates on his mind.

[charlieweasleyxmc]

Patronus

The spring evening weather was just cool enough that (Y/N) wished she had grabbed a sweater on their way down to the Three Broomsticks. The sun had just set and the sky was darkening fast.

Bill would glance over at her every so often, occasionally practicing his ‘surprised face’ as he did so. She nodded at him to reassure him, though secretly she thought they were all terrible. It was a good thing indeed that Bill didn’t need to lie for a living.

To be fair, it was her and Charlie’s loud whispering that had given away the secret.

It suddenly made her incredibly worried that other times they had whispered could have been overheard. She tried to think if they had whispered anything too embarrassing, but couldn’t remember.

When they reached the Three Broomsticks, he took a moment to gather himself before they waltzed in.

The crowd roared just as she knew they would, Bill tried to look surprised just as she also knew he would, and nobody bought his ‘surprised face,’ just as she was sure they wouldn’t.

And there was Charlie, the ends of his hair falling out of his ponytail and into his face just as she always knew they did.

(Y/N) barely noticed when the party moved into full swing. Every member of the party seemingly needing to congratulate Bill personally. She heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking about their other children at some point, who she already knew had apparently disappeared off to Zonko’s. She overheard Charlie, Barnaby, and Liz talking about magical creatures, Jae getting stopped by Rowan from sneaking out somewhere, and Talbott speaking in hushed tones with Chiara.

She was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to feel good. She knew she was. And yet, something in her chest scratched against something else and she found her hand massaging her chest, as though that could knead out the kinks in her heart.

When the feeling didn’t leave her, she felt the panic slowly rise, though she begged it not to, telling it what she knew in her mind, that everything was alright, the curse had been broken, and her friends were alright.

When it continued, she did the only thing she knew how to do when there was nothing to fight.

She ran.

Moving from the party, she smoothly weaved through the crowd until she had reached the door once again. Pushing it open, she used her last ounce of strength to dart out into the street.

The bang of the door clanged behind her and she just managed to breathe a sigh of relief at the fresh smell of a spring evening before loud laughing roared down the lane.

Sprinting to the side of the road, she caught sight of Nymphadora with four younger children, all of them carrying Zonko’s boxes. The shocking red hair on the three boys and young girl was enough to tell (Y/N) that these were Bill, Charlie, and Percy’s younger siblings.

Tonks and the four kids ducked into the pub and (Y/N) was both grateful and slightly disappointed somewhere in herself that they hadn’t noticed her.

Finding herself alone in the lane, she saw Hogsmeade dwellers coming down the road towards her.

All she knew was that she didn’t want to be observed by strangers just then.

She took off, darting down the road towards the castle. It was exhausting and she eventually slowed to walking. When it came time to trek up the hill, past Hagrid’s hut and towards the courtyard, she veered into the forest instead.

She knew this part of the forest too well to be afraid and yet a chill rose along her arms. Shoving it aside, she continued to walk, staying always within the realms that she knew beside Hagrid’s hut.

She passed the clearing where they had Care of Magical Creatures and the memory of the first time she had fed a bowtruckle came to her mind, bringing a smile to her lips though the aching in her chest hadn’t gone away.

With the memory of magical creatures came the memory of Charlie, eyes lit up and ginger hair a mess as he gazed at whatever creature Professor Kettleburn was teaching them about that day.

A rustle in the brush behind her sent her to spinning around.

A warmth entered her heart, though she would have thought there was no more room past the ache. As if the memory had conjured him up, there came Charlie, walking out of the darkness and into the glade.

She could barely see him, the moon being blocked by the overcast sky, but she could see his kind expression as he approached her.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked. His ginger hair was falling out of his ponytail just as she had seen it in her memory.

“How did you find me?” She asked instead, not answering his question yet.

His expression became sheepish. “I—uh—followed you.”

“You followed me,” she said, the words tasting comforting in her mouth.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Dora told me she saw you outside the pub. She thought I would be a better help then she would. And when I saw you running, I thought I’d follow along. I was worried. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Well,” he said, “are you—are you alright?”

The words were too much. She pushed them off in the only way she knew how, by physically walking away.

“No,” she huffed, Charlie jogged up to walk beside her, “I’m never alright anymore. I think I am. I know I should be, that everything is alright, that we broke the curse on the vault, that everyone trapped in the portraits are safe, but I’m not alright. I don’t understand it. I think I’m afraid, but no matter how much I tell myself not to be afraid, I still have this.” She stopped, turning to him, and rubbed at her chest again, trailing off.

She raised her gaze from the forest floor to his sad eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Everything is fine,” she said again, “I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”

Charlie shook his head, eventually answering quietly, “I disagree. It’s not a should or shouldn’t.”

She didn’t answer, having no words.

He took a breath, glancing past her, and then his eyes met hers again, “Can I show you something?”

His face was so pure, so good, with just the right amount of hope and compassion in his eyes that all she could think to say was, “yes.”

He smiled, walking off and she was grateful that he hadn’t taken her hand. She walked just a step behind and beside him as he moved to the edge of the wood.

They were on the shore of the Black Lake. The waters sweeping out before them.

“Okay,” he said, facing the lake.

She followed his lead. The sky was not so overcast here and she could make out stars between the cloud cover.

“Are you ready?” he asked, glancing back at her.

She nodded.

Charlie turned and she only caught sight of the edge of a grin before he uttered his spell.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A flash of light. A beam of blue. And then starlight exploded in the sky above them.

But, not starlight.

For as her eyes adjusted, she could see the stars twinkling behind the massive patronus that Charlie had conjured.

She had seen a patronus summoned. Had summoned one herself, though it hadn’t been corporeal, but never had she seen one take the form of a magical creature.

And of course Charlie’s patronus was a dragon.

A Welsh Green to be precise. Exactly like the dragon that the dragon tamers had ridden to collect the Hungarian Horntail, not a week earlier.

“How? How…?”

Charlie smiled back at her, the Horntail hovering effortlessly in the air, its tale swishing yards above them.

“I casted it right after they rescued the Horntail,” he smiled at the thought. “I had just finished talking with Mr. Scamander and I guess that, combined with the memory of the experience before, was so great that I was able to cast it. I was just so happy that a patronus came to mind and I wanted to cast it.”

She hesitated, feeling his eyes upon her, before she finally mustered up the energy to ask, “What memory did you choose just now?”

He smiled, looking at the lake and she knew he was thinking to himself. “The same night I guess. Well, that whole evening.”

“With the Horntail?”

“Yes, and Mr. Scamander, and the dragon tamers, and the Welsh Green…and Professor Dumbledore and…you.”

“Oh,” she breathed, startled.

“Oh.”

The words hovered in the air between them.

Finally, Charlie spoke again.

“Would you like to try?”

She blinked at him, “try?”

“Try casting a patronus.”

She blinked again, unsure of how to respond.

“Go ahead,” he said, gently beckoning with a slight dip of his head.

She stepped up beside him, the end of his wand still streaming the ray of light that turned into the dragon high above them.

“Alright,” she whispered, “but don’t expect it to be corporeal.”

“I don’t expect anything,” he said, his voice gentle, calming.

She smiled and she didn’t need any memory in that moment for a beam of light to rush over her wand when she whispered, “Expecto Patronum.”

She slashed her wand elegantly across the sky and the blue waves that wafted from it gradually coalesced together until they formed into a figure of feathers and talons.

“A phoenix,” Charlie whispered what they both now knew. “Your patronus is a phoenix.”

“Yes,” she breathed, “I believe it is.”

He turned to her, a wondrous expression gracing his face.

“It’s beautiful,” a rush of air left his lungs.

(Y/N) smiled at it, “it is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. How were you able to cast it? What memory did you use?”

They watched as the phoenix flitted around the hovering dragon, playing with her every now and again.

“I didn’t use a memory.”

“You didn’t…” Charlie gaped at her and she saw as the understanding dawned over his face.

She didn’t need to say a word and he didn’t push her by saying another as well. They just enjoyed the sight of their patronuses for a little while longer. When the cold finally got to (Y/N), Charlie walked a step or two beside her into the castle and left her by her door, allowing her to enter her dormitory alone.

Though she didn’t feel entirely back to normal, and wasn’t sure how often this feeling would pop up after Rakepick’s betrayal, she felt hope for the first time in a week.

Taking a deep breath, she rested in her bed for her last night at Hogwarts and hoped that the illumination from her patronus would last much longer than those few moments by the lake.

This artwork is amazing!

[lunasilvermorny]

So let’s talk about Luna and Liz...

@nikyiscreepy​​ sent me an ask following this post and I thought it’s a good opportunity to finally post about what happened between Luna and Liz.

(Also, thank you for enjoying Luna x Rath content. It’s one of my favorite ships and I love that people feel the same way!)

Anyway, don’t worry, the whole Liz situation has plenty of angst in it too.

So I wrote some dialogues a while back and it sums everything up pretty well.

But before we go there, I want to point something out.

Luna was “the bad guy” in this situation, but she wasn’t malicious. Remember that at the time she was only 14 and still trying to figure out how to handle her polyamorous nature. Writing about a 14 y.o. that has everything figured out is unrealistic, especially when she has so little life experience regarding her love-life at this point.

So... don’t hate Luna for this, that’s the bottom line. Yes, she’s an arse, but she got better.

Anyway, it’s a really long one, so prepare yourself:

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

Year 4.

*Liz caught Luna staring*

Luna: I'm sorry, I swear I'm not a creep. I'm just… I'm sorry.

Liz: You're Penny's friend, right? The one that likes Bowtruckles.

Luna: To be fair, Billywigs were a close second.

Liz: *laughed* Wait, aren't you also-?

Luna: The cursed-vaults girl? Yes.

Liz: -the one that calls Professor Kettleburn "Papa"?

Luna: That's me.

Liz: Why Papa?

Luna: Because he is, that's just an indisputable law of nature.

Liz: *laughed again*

Luna: You have a really cute laugh.

Liz: *blushing* Um, okay. Thanks?

Luna: You don’t really like compliments, do you?

Liz: I'm just not used to it.

Luna: Are you hungry by any chance?

Liz: I was actually planning to go to the library first.

Luna: Come on, I'll go there with you after we grab something to eat.

--

Luna: So what do you do for fun?

Liz: *shrugged* Scare people away by talking about magical creatures all the time?

Luna: Girl, don't toy with me. I can literally – and yes, I mean literally – talk about creatures for hours.

Liz: Even you'd get bored eventually.

Luna: Seriously, just ask Charlie.

Liz: Oh, I've talked to him earlier. I love his dragons facts.

Luna: We once stayed up all night talking about dragons.

Liz: Really? Hmm... let’s see. What do you think about the mistreatment of fairies?

Luna: Oh, Lizard. You better clear your entire schedule for today, because this is going to take a while.

--

*A few months later*

Luna: Jeez, you're so damn cute, I can’t take my eyes off of you.

*Liz blushed, frozen in her seat*

Luna: I'm sorry, I did it again, didn’t I? It just slipped.

Liz: No, no. *she cleared her throat* It's fine.

Luna: I don't have a filter when it comes to people I like, yet.

*Liz froze again*

Luna: Just like now. Wow, I'm sorry. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me.

Liz: It's not that…

Luna: Are you sure? Because your face radiates heat more than a burning cooker.

Liz: *cleared her throat again* I'm just…

Luna: Let's just drop it, then. Do you think Papa would be impressed if I prepared an essay about Chimaeras?

Liz: …

Luna: I mean, I already made one about Bowtruckles, so I’m trying to up my game.

Liz: …

Luna: Look, you don’t have to worry. I know we're just friends. I'd never cross the line, I promise.

Liz: *with cracked voice* Maybe… a quiet place…

Luna: Okay. Let's go.

*In the artifact room*

Luna: What's wrong?

Liz: It's just… I never told anyone…

Luna: Oh my god, you were the Chimaera all along!

*This caught Liz off guard and she burst out laughing*

Luna: I know, I'm hilarious.

*Luna stopped smiling when she saw tears coming out of Liz's eyes*

Luna: Hey, hey *she wrapped her arms around her* Liz, what's wrong?

*It took Liz a few minutes to calm down*

Liz: I don't know how to say it.

Luna: Whatever it is, you can tell me.

Liz: I- I know.

Luna: Whenever you're ready. Although, I will resort to stupid jokes in case of a long awkward silence.

*Liz let out a faint laugh and crossed her arms, avoiding Luna's gaze*

Liz: I'm gay.

Luna: …

Liz: I… I'm already weird enough-

Luna: What are you talking about? You're the coolest girl I know. After me, of course.

Liz: I’m serious-

Luna: Me too.

Liz: *looked a bit irritated* Well, not everyone shares your view of me.

Luna: Then they’re morons.

Liz: *shook her head* You don’t know what it’s like.

Luna: I mean… I am bi and I’ve experienced-

Liz: It’s not the same.

Luna: It doesn’t have to be the exact same experience for me to relate.

Liz: You're that cute bi-girl that will probably end up with a guy anyway…

Luna: Rude!

Liz: And even if you don’t, you’re popular enough that people wouldn’t mind. I’m not like that. I’m a freak.

Luna: You’re just feeling a bit self conscious-

Liz: Luna, stop.

Luna: But I don’t care-

Liz: Luna.

Luna: …

Liz: I like you, a lot.

Luna: *smiled* That’s a good thing, Lizard.

*Liz shook her head*

Luna: You know how I feel, why are you acting like it’s a bad thing?

Liz: Because it won’t last. For you, I'm just that nerdy girl that is an easy conquest-

Luna: Lizard!

Liz: That you’d get bored of once you find the right guy-

Luna: LIZARD!

*Liz fell silence*

*Luna looked at her angrily*

Luna: First of all, I'm not just bi for fun. I know exactly how it is to be confused and out of place. At least people will see your sexuality as something valid.

Liz: I didn't mean to offend-

Luna: Second, I don't know if you think I'm that shallow or you're just extremely insecure, but you're not a bloody conquest.

Liz: …

Luna: *in a calmer tone* I get that you’re afraid, but I genuinely like you for who you are.

Liz: I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to attack you. You just wouldn’t understand. I’m getting bullied enough as it is, if people knew I’m gay-

Luna: Then I’d have to curse anyone who gives you a hard time.

Liz: I’m being serious.

Luna: So am I.

Liz: Thanks you, but… for now, it’s enough for me that you’re the only one who knows.

Luna: Fine by me, Lizard.

---

Luna: You know, nothing’s changed.

Liz: Even after everything I’ve said?

Luna: Come on, I can't stay mad at you.

*Luna got closer and stopped only a few cm away from Liz's face*

Luna: I really like you.

*Liz swallowed loudly*

*Luna kissed her softly and after a few seconds, Liz kissed her back*

Barnaby: Luna?

*Liz pulled away in panic*

Barnaby: Liz?

Luna: Puppy, what are you doing here?

Barnaby: We were supposed to study in the library.

Luna: Oh shit, I totally forgot.

Barnaby: Were you two-?

Liz: No!

Luna: Puppy, let's talk outside. *she turned to Liz* I'll be right back.

*Barnaby and Luna left the room*

Barnaby: I thought-

Luna: Puppy, you can't tell anyone, okay? I’m serious. She's still in the closet.

Barnaby: Really? I was sure I saw her sitting on the desk.

Luna: …

Luna: I meant, no one knows she's… you know.

Barnaby: So you were kissing.

Luna: Well, yeah.

*He looked hurt*

Barnaby: Oh.

Luna: What's wrong, Angel?

Barnaby: I was hoping that we…

Luna: Oh, Puppy, it doesn't change anything.

Barnaby: What do you mean?

Luna: I still like you.

Barnaby: But you like Liz too.

Luna: I can like more than one person.

Barnaby: Really? Because I don't like anyone else.

Luna: Come on, girls hit on you all the time.

Barnaby: Yes, but they're not you.

Luna: *sighed* I thought we were on the same page.

Barnaby: I'm not sure, I left my books in the library.

Luna: Look, can we talk about it later? Meet me in Jacob's room after dinner.

Barnaby: Okay.

*They hugged and then he left. When Luna turned to go back to the empty classroom, she saw Liz looking at her*

Liz: I'm sorry, I couldn’t resist... I've heard what you said.

Luna: Sorry about that, everything happened so fast, I didn't have the time to let him know.

Liz: So that's why you're meeting him later?

Luna: Yes, of course. He deserves an explanation.

*Liz looked relieved*

*They kissed again*

Liz: I'm so glad you said that, I thought for a second that you'll choose him over me.

Luna: What?

Liz: I know, I know. My insecurities.

Luna: Why would I choose either of you over the other?

Liz: *her smile faded away* Because we're… I thought…

Luna: What?

Liz: *taking a few steps back* Call me naive, but I thought you kissed me because you wanted to be my girlfriend.

Luna: Oh. Lizard, I thought you knew. I thought everyone knows by now. I'm not interested in a relationship.

Liz: So why did you… why always tell me how much you like me and…?

Luna: Because I do like you.

Liz: But not enough to be my girlfriend.

Luna: No, no. You got it all wrong. It doesn't change the way I feel about you, I just… really like Barnaby too. I was sure that piece of gossip reached everyone by now.

Liz: I'm not really into gossip.

Luna: Damn, I'm sorry. I feel like a total arsehole.

Liz: I knew it… How is this not a conquest?!

Luna: I have real feelings for you.

Liz: I don't think you do.

Luna: Look, I get it, my bad. I should have told you about Barnaby. Lesson learned. Can we just talk about it?

Liz: I think we talked enough.

Luna: Liz, come on.

Liz: Leave me alone. *she ran away*

Luna: Liz! Dammit, Lizard!

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

Okay, there’s a whole lot more to it, but this post is already very long, so if you want to keep going, it’ll be after the “read more” bar.

If you had enough - hope you enjoyed the angst. And remember, Luna got better.

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

Luna: Is it just me or are people giving me weirder looks than usual?

Penny: …

Luna: Hello?

Penny: …

Luna: Who am I talking to, myself?

Penny: You know, I'm not that close with Liz, but everyone can agree she's a very sweet girl.

Luna: I agree.

Penny: That’s why people thought it was weird when she came back to her dorms last night, sobbing.

Luna: Oh, no.

Penny: Oh, yes. Luna Katerina Silver, what did you do?

Luna: That not how you pronounce- never mind.

Penny: Well?

Luna: Well what?

Penny: What did you do?

Luna: I didn't think… I wasn't… How is she now?

Penny: She's fine.

Luna: …

Penny: So?

Luna: I'm not going to tell you, you'll tell it to everyone in the castle.

Penny: Maybe you should tell me, because there are a lot of rumors floating around. Some of them are really nasty.

Luna: I wonder who started them.

Penny: I would never do that to Liz.

Luna: Oh, please.

Penny: Trust me, you want me to spread the truth as fast as possible.

Luna: I can't!

Penny: Why not?

Luna: Because it's not my secret to share!

Penny: You mean that she's gay?

Luna: How did you-?

Penny: You know how.

Luna: But I'm the only one she's told!

Penny: People think you-

Luna: What? Did what? We just kissed! Is that a crime?

Penny: What?! You kissed?!

Luna: Yeah, obviously. That’s why people were being nasty about it, because we’re both girls… Right?

Penny: Who said anything about that?

Luna: It was implied!

Penny: No, people just assumed you made her uncomfortable with your flirting.

Luna: Jesus Christ, Penny. That was a freaking trap!

Penny: I mean, I know she's gay, but most people don't. So you two really kissed?

Luna: You're such a snake!

Penny: Yeah, yeah. So if it was just an innocent kiss, how come it ended up in tears?

Luna: Because… because she might have got the impression that.. we are a couple.

Penny: Oh my god, Luna.

Luna: And then Barnaby walked in and one thing led to another and I told her that I'm interested in both of them.

Penny: Seriously, how can you be so smart yet so dumb at the same time?

Luna: Who doesn't know by now that Barnaby and I are a thing?

Penny: A loner, maybe?

Luna: Jesus, I feel so guilty.

Penny: You should.

Luna: Wow, I must have really screwed up, if you're acting all high and mighty.

Penny: It's bad, Luna. You really hurt her.

Luna: Thank you for reminding me.

Penny: I know you're still figuring it out, but it's not okay to just play with other people's emotions-

Luna: I heard you! Can you stop lecturing me? I told you already that I feel bad!

Penny: Well, you deserve it.

Luna: …

Penny: Maybe this would teach you a lesson.

Luna: Who the fuck are you to talk? You basically did the same thing to me a year ago.

Penny: It was completely different. I wanted a fake kiss, I didn't pretend I'm interested in a relationship with you.

Luna: I wasn't pretending! I really like her!

Penny: Also, you’re emotionally crippled. You must know she deserves better than you.

Luna: I'm not-!

Penny: You are.

Luna: Fuck off.

Penny: Yeah, yeah.

--

Luna: I mean, it's not my fault, right?

Charlie: …

Luna: Right?

Charlie: I don't think you hurt her on purpose.

Luna: Oh god, not you too.

Charlie: It's Liz, Luna. How could you do this to her?

Luna: Everyone knows about my thing with Barnaby! How was I supposed to know she had no idea?

Charlie: You should have mentioned it, at least.

Luna: Fine, you're right. But why does everyone act like I'm a monster? I wasn't trying to mess this up.

Charlie: Like I've said, I don't think you hurt her on purpose.

Luna: But you think I'm still the arsehole in this situation.

Charlie: You words, not mine… but yes.

--

Luna: Well? You're not going to say anything? I know you want to.

Rowan: What are you talking about?

Luna: The Liz situation.

Rowan: What Liz situation?

Luna: Really, that's how you want to play it? Fine then, there's nothing to say.

Rowan: Exactly.

Luna: Good.

Rowan: Although-

Luna: Here we go.

Rowan: *sighed* What were you thinking, Luna?

Luna: Thanks for having my back.

Rowan: You made her cry.

Luna: It wasn't intentional!

Rowan: Are you sure?

Luna: What the hell are you implying?

Rowan: I mean, you dumped Bill-

Luna: Because of you, you prick!

Rowan: I never asked you to.

Luna: …

Rowan: Then you string Barnaby along.

Luna: I'm not-!

Rowan: Then you kiss Liz behind Barnaby's back?

Luna: What do you mean behind his back? We're not together!

Rowan: I'm just saying, you're acting like the victim, but you’re the one who created these situations to begin with.

Luna: How can you say that?

Rowan: Just look at the facts.

Luna: Your facts are wrong!

Rowan: My facts are-

Luna: Your facts are wrong!

Rowan: -not wrong. They are not. I always rely on logic-

Luna: You're full of shit.

Rowan: -and reason. Look, you can get mad at me all you want, but you wouldn't have been this emotional if you didn’t think I, at the very least, have a point.

Luna: …

Luna: God, I feel so guilty.

Rowan: See? I'm right.

Luna: What can I do to fix it?

Rowan: Just leave her alone for now.

Luna: But-

Rowan: Seriously, Luna. Leave her alone.

--

Bill: Hey, what's wrong?

Luna: Haven't you heard the news? Apparently, I'm Satan.

Bill: …

Luna: I'm evil.

Bill: Why?

Luna: You really haven’t heard about what happened with Liz?

Bill: I might have heard something, but I prefer not to listen to rumors.

Luna: Well, you're the only one.

Bill: At least you feel remorse, that means you can’t be that bad.

Luna: Oh, Jesus… Thank you, mate. I really needed to hear that-

Bill: Even if you're not coming off as the best person, either.

Luna: I thought you don't listen to rumors.

Bill: I don’t.

Luna: Fine, let's just change to subject.

--

*About a week later*

Liz: Hi…

Luna: *surprised* Hi! How are you?

Liz: I'm fine… Mind if I sit here?

Luna: Please!

*Liz sat next to her*

Liz: I know you had a pretty rough week.

Luna: Don't worry about it.

Liz: I didn't say anything, I swear.

Luna: Lizard, seriously. You have nothing to apologize for.

Liz: So I guess my secret is out.

Luna: Fuck, I'm so sorry.

Liz: It's okay. Weirdly enough, people weren't that horrible about it.

Luna: …

Liz: Some girls were mean, but the general approach was surprisingly accepting.

Luna: Who? Was it Merula? Do you want me to punch her?

Liz: *laughed* No, no. She was weirdly supportive. Well, maybe supportive is an exaggeration, but she hasn't made fun of me about it even once and I'm her favorite punching bag.

Luna: Who, then?

Liz: It doesn't matter.

Luna: …

Liz: We're okay. I don't hold anything against you.

Luna: You should. Liz, I feel like such a prick. I should've told you about Barnaby from the start.

Liz: Well… yes.

Luna: So, are we still friends?

Liz: It was starting to get a bit boring in CoMC.

Luna: Right? Even Papa noticed!

Liz: He and I actually had a really good talk.

Luna: Did you, now?

Liz: Don't be jealous.

Luna: Me, jealous? Don’t be ridiculous… But did he mention me or..?

Liz: *laughed* I just wanted to tell you that we're cool. You don't have to hide from me anymore.

Luna: Are you sure?

Liz: Yep. We’re better off as friends, anyway.

Luna: Fair enough.

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

And now you know.

But their friendship healed and they because very good friends afterward, so at least it ended well.

[rosapeachhogwartsmystery]

I could really use a hug right now (Reader x Barnaby Lee)

Masterlist  (To view my Masterlist, visit my Tumblr page)

Words: 1.7k

Summary: Everything you did or said seemed to be wrong... No one seemed to understand how you were feeling at all. You felt alone and lost and decided to just avoid everyone. Just when you thought you were alone, someone came over to you.

A/N: Sorry, it is a bit short...

_______________________________________________________

You didn’t know what to do anymore. You were tired and felt so lost. Nothing seemed to make sense and you just couldn’t let go of it. You tried to act like you always did, but for how long could you keep up the act? Could you continue the day with a smile on your face all day and just forget about what happened for one second? Could you live up to everyone’s expectations? You were Y/N Y/L/N, the sibling of the infamous Jacob Y/L/N, you were used to unusual situations, right?

If only you could just live up to everyone’s expectations… You weren’t going to be able to just forget what happened and continue like nothing happened. How could you? The reunion with your brother was really difficult… Did he really expect you not to be cautious just because you were related…? After everything that happened, how could you just trust your intuition? Of course, you have seen your brother a few more times, but he always seemed to bring up the fact you were hesitant to immediately help him…

With the Statue Curse around, your friends began to act strange… Penny kept trying to involve you when she and her sister had an argument. You couldn’t help it but to side with Beatrice, considering the girl had gone through a traumatic experience. That probably didn’t help your friendship with Penny… Besides Penny, Charlie began accusing you of bringing danger around and Ben was trying to protect you, making some questionable decisions… You couldn’t help it but to feel hurt. Your friends didn’t seem to understand you.

Despite everything, you tried to keep going, hoping working on the Cursed Vaults would distract you from feeling bad. Although, it seemed like some of your friends were kind of wondering why you didn’t seem to spend a lot of time with them. It was like everything you did was wrong at this point. It made you want to avoid them even more. You didn’t want to trouble anyone. Besides, it wasn’t like they were asking if you were okay either. It was lonely to be alone with these dark and sad feelings you were experiencing lately. You felt like you couldn’t ask for help either… You would just have to carry this burden a bit longer…

 You were currently sitting alone somewhere on the Castle Grounds, just staring at nothing. It was probably better than going to the more public places of the Castle. You didn’t want to deal with anyone and hoped no one would approach you now. If only your Hogwarts years were different… Perhaps if Jacob didn’t go looking for the Cursed Vaults, you wouldn’t be in this mess… Although, you would probably not have made the same friends you have grown to love.

Even though you were having trouble now, didn’t mean you stopped caring for your friends. It was quite the opposite. You loved your friends that much that you didn’t want to bother them anymore. You felt like they deserved a better friend than you… You were only going to disappoint them, right?

 “Y/N?”

 You were slightly startled when you noticed someone was calling your name. You quickly turned into the direction where you heard the voice calling from.

“Barnaby?” You said softly, wondering why he came over to you.

“It’s been a while.” He said with a small smile. “You weren’t avoiding me were you.”

You felt a lump in your throat, not sure what to say. It wasn’t like you were avoiding him in particular, but you have been avoiding him like all your other friends. You just fixed your gaze on the ground, not sure if you could keep looking at him.

Barnaby frowned and then he slowly sat down next to you. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

“… No, there isn’t something wrong.” You mumbled, looking away.

“Then what is bothering you...? You can’t tell me it’s nothing.”

You shook your head. “It isn’t something… Everything is wrong…”

He had a surprised expression on his face, tilting his head a bit. “Everything…? That’s quite a lot…”

“You don’t say…”

“Maybe you could talk about it…? It will probably help a little to just talk about it.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “You will only judge me for it anyways…”

“What…? No, of course not! Why would I judge you for telling me what has been bothering you?” He looked slightly hurt.

“… See, it is already making you feel bad and I have barely said anything.” You muttered, beginning to hug your knees.

  Barnaby began to look concerned. “Y/N… You should tell me what is on your mind… I promise I won’t judge if that’s what you are concerned about. I mean, it’s not like I easily judge others for what they say.”

“… All right. Don’t get mad, all right… I don’t think I would be able to handle it now...” You said softly, barely able to look at Barnaby.

“Don’t worry about it… Just tell me what is on your mind.”

 _____________

 “Everything I say or do seems to go wrong… No one seems to understand my reasoning nor care about how I feel about the situation…” You said with a sigh when finished telling Barnaby what was going wrong.

Barnaby just stared at the grass, feeling a lump in his own throat now. How could he not have noticed you seemed to bottle up all your feelings? No one had asked how you were doing lately, everyone seemed too busy with their own stuff and problems. You had been smiling for their sake, considerate of how they were feeling. Heck, you even let them get angry with you, because they didn’t understand your perspective of things. You had been hurt by them and yet you didn’t say anything about it.

You hugged your knees tighter, not feeling better after talking about this. Actually, you were feeling like you were about to cry.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry…”

You looked up at Barnaby slightly surprised. “What are you sorry about…?”

“Well… I didn’t see what was going on… I didn’t see you were hurt by our actions…” Barnaby began, looking sad. “I feel bad for not being more considerate and aware of your situation… You have been there listening to our problems and even tried to help, but we have never… We have never asked if you needed someone to help you…!”

 You could swear you saw tears in Barnaby’s eyes. It made it even harder to fight back your own tears. “D…don’t blame yourself for this… I-I mean, you guys have helped me out a lot with the Cursed Vaults and-”

“I wasn’t talking about help with the Cursed Vaults...! I was talking about helping you! M-more personally, you know? Like a friend should do...? You needed us and… and we didn’t offer you any help!” Barnaby was definitely crying at this point; he couldn’t hold back the tears.

The tears began to roll down your face as well. “B-Barnaby… Really… You don’t need to blame yourself for this…”

Barnaby looked into your eyes. “I’m so sorry…!”

You shook your head, unable to keep yourself from sobbing at this point. He just pulled you into a tight hug. You were just crying against him, not being able to stop because you have bottled up your feelings for too long. Barnaby was silently crying as well, unable to stop crying because he didn’t like seeing you cry at all.

 After a while, the crying mostly stopped. You let out an occasional sob, resting your head against Barnaby.

“I’m s-sorry for crying so much… I-… I didn’t mean to make you feel bad too…” You said very softly.

Barnaby shook his head a bit. “Don’t apologise for crying…. Really, I am glad you told me.”

“Even though I made you cry too…?”

“Of course… I can… I can be quite easily influenced emotionally to be honest…” He said honestly. “Seeing you so down and hearing how you felt… I just couldn’t help it but to feel really awful…. I wished I had seen it sooner.”

“… You were the first one who asked me what was wrong.” You said softly. “No one else had come up to me to ask me how I was doing… Even before I was avoiding everyone.”

“I understand… However, I still wish I could have seen it sooner… It’s not healthy to bottle up your feelings like that.”

“I know… I just didn’t want to bother anyone…”

“It’s not a bother to talk to others about how you are feeling. Especially since things got more serious… And your brother being out of the painting and all…”

“Jacob definitely didn’t make it feel better at all…” You said honestly.

 “Y/N… If you feel like you need someone to be there for you, know that I am willing to be there. Just like you have been there for me.” He said honestly.

“Thank you, Barnaby…”

 _____________

 Barnaby was walking around the Corridors. He just walked out of the Great Hall after having some sandwiches. It had been a while since you had told him how you were feeling lately. He couldn’t help it but to keep an extra eye on you. He didn’t want to miss anymore signs about you feeling bad… He wanted to be there for you when you were feeling down again.

He looked around a little and suddenly spotted you. He kept his eyes on you and he could tell your eyes were on him as well. He didn’t expect you to rush over to him. Before he knew it, you had your arms around him, your face buried against him. It was obvious, he was surprised by your action, but he slowly wrapped his arms around you as well.

“I’m sorry… I really felt like I needed hug….” You said softly when you looked up at him.

“Of course.” He said with a small smile. “Should we go somewhere more comfortable?”

You nodded lightly, slowly letting of him. He began leading the way to a more comfortable place, keeping an arm around you the entire time.

Barnaby wasn’t going to let you bottle up your feelings ever again.

[diddlesanddoodles]

Dumpling ch. 18

Maevis busied himself for the next hour by returning the books to their proper homes while Barnaby gathered Jae and Nenani over to one side of the table. Under a green cloak, was an old wooden trunk. The wood was worn and dark with age. The metal was unpolished, but strong. With difficulty and a bit of help from Jae, Barnaby lifted away the lid to reveal the treasure inside.

Books. Human sized and bound in black leather.

He ran his finger along the spines of the top layer, scouring the gilded letters.

“A small miracle these survived,” he said. “But I believe the one I want is...ah, yes this one. My boy, would you mind to clear some room here? Those paint pots are dried so no worry about them spilling.”

Jae obediently made room on the small work table as the older man pulled one book out slowly and with great care before placing it open upon the table. He gestured for Nenani to come look. She had a little learning of letters, but had not been very studious and the years of disuse after her parent’s deaths had left her reading comprehension sorely lacking. “I’m not very good with letters.”

“Oh, well we will have to sort that out in the future. But for now, I will read them to you. These pages list the names of men who were all apart of the Thorn Guard. Listed by family. This page here is where the Family Daelg begins. And as you can see...” he flipped through several pages. “...there are many of them. Your forefathers were all in the guard for many many year. One of the oldest serving families. Protecting the King and kin.”

“Papa guarded the King? Really?” She drew up an image of her father in her mind and had no diffuculties reconciling with image. In her eyes, her father had always held all the qualities of a knight from stories he read her. Brave, selfless, and loyal. It warmed her heart to know she had been right, but it fueled her need to know more.

“No, he was not high enough in rank to be so close to the King himself. Your grandfather would have, yes. Often. In fact I do believe that was his last official post. But here, look.”

The archivist ran his finger along bottom of the page. “This your father’s entry. Hayron. Born to Hayier Daelg by his wife Maudre on the fourth of September in ninth year of King Haeral’s rule. Your Uncle, Halden was born little over a year later in the winter.”

There was not much more about her father or uncle in the book and very little revealed itself in the other tomes. But Barnaby was gracious enough to tell her stories her remembered about them when he was still the archivist for Silvaara. However, she was able to get a better picture of her Grandfather, Hayier. As captain of the Thorn guard, his name repeatably popped up throughout the pages.

“They use to call him Old Ironwood, because he was so straight and unyielding,” he told her. “He was a  fierce fighter, your grandfather.”

“You should come to open call and see Rheil break in the new recruits,” Jae suggested. “It’s in a few days, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Seeing as she’s got Thorn Guard blood,” Jae grinned at Nenani and poked her with his elbow. “Maybe she’ll pick up a few things.”

Barnaby looked as though he were about to protest, but was cut off by Maevis. “Oh dear. My friends, we may have a problem.”

The three humans looked to see the magician standing near one of the windows with a small stack of books in his arms, one arm still holding one out as he was slipping it into an empty spot on the shelf. He was looking down at something below.

“What’s wrong?” Jae asked.

“Just now, I noticed Hev leave the west side corridor.”

Jae’s face fell. “Oh….oh, that’s bad.”

Nenanmi turned to Jae and asked, “Why is that bad?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair before giving her a sympathetic glance. “Because that means he’s coming back from the kitchens.”

Nenani felt her insides turn as understanding settled in. “Maybe he was just getting a snack?”

Barnaby placed a hand on Nenani’s shoulders. “I am afraid my dear that the proverbial cat, as they say, is out of the bag.”

“So that means...” She trailed off with a groan.

“Yep,” Jae replied. “Farris knows you lost your marker.”

………………………

They had left the library, saying their goodbyes to Maevis and Barnaby, and made the slow trek back through the tunnels towards the kitchens. Jae tried to reassure her that they could still potentially come upon the marker somewhere along the tunnels in a fortuitous turn of luck. Grateful as she was for his continued optimism, she knew without giving it concrete consideration that it would be a fruitless venture. It was gone forever. Plain and simple. And she felt sure that facing Farris was a much better direction to take. How could she ever explain to Jae or to anyone what she had seen? How could she ever find her way back, even if she wanted to prove that she had not been making the whole thing up?  

The moment they stepped into the dark, she had expected to hear the voices again, to feel dizzy, or to feel anything beyond the norm. But it was as it had been before. Just a tunnel illuminated by Maevis’s orbs. Nothing strange about it. As they moved along the path, she kept a close eye on the light, worried that any second they were disappear and the heat-less flames would come back, beckoning them both towards the catacombs. But they did not.  She decided in that moment that it had never happened and she never needed to waste another thought on what lay deep inside the walls of Vhasshal.  

Jae sensed her anxiety and gave her a cheeky smirk.

“If he’s that mad, you could always stay here in the tunnels with me,” he offered. But his grin faded when he received no reply. “It’ll be OK, y’know. I promise. Farris will yell for a while and maybe make you sweep the kitchen by yourself or something like that. Make a tiny broom for you or something.”

“Yeah,” she replied lowly as they rounded the last corner and could see the door to the kitchen. A faint string of light outlining its shape in the dark. “Maybe.”

Drawing nearer, they could hear Farris hollering nearly twenty feet from the door.

“Oh,” Jae said with a frown. “He’s pissed, alright.”

Nenani grimaced and groaned, not looking forwards to what was to come. She hoped she wouldn’t go deaf. As they approached the tunnel door, Farris’s words became that much more audible. “...COULD YA BE THAT STUPID?! ONE SIMPLE THING!”

“Well, old Hev did mention the request came from Keral,” Yale’s voice, much softer and muffled by the stone, replied. His words were barely heard. “Wouldn’t be shocked if he’s also the reason why.”

Jae glanced over his shoulder and motioned for Nenani to stand behind him and then slowly eased the door open a few inches. It was quite heavy, however and despite his best efforts to make a quite and inconspicuous entry, the hinges creaked. A high pitched shriek of old and oil thirsty metal.  

“I COULDN’T GIVE A..” Farris’s voice abruptly cut off at the sound and Jae froze, eyes wide and mouth grimacing. They both stood silently behind the ajar door, waiting for something to happen. Perhaps the two giants would continue on speaking and not notice anything. However, when Farris’s voice struck up again, it had lost almost all of its previous volume and was replaced by an irritated snark. “Well? Ya just gonna skulk behind the fucking door or ya what?”

With a resigned groan, Jae pushed the door open the remainder of the way. Hesitantly and with an uneasy smile, he stepped through and onto the mantel’s surface. Nenani was on his heals, pressing herself behind him as if to shield her from the sight of the giants. Farris loomed over the pair, a severe scowl plaster upon his face. One hand was clenched at his side while the other was planted firmly on his him.

“Farris, I can explain-” Jae began, but he was completely ignored and without even allowing him to finish, the giant reached out and slammed the door to the tunnel shut. The same hand then turned to grab up the young man and plucked him from the spot where he stood. “WHOA-hey!”

“Yale!” Farris barked while holding Jae out away from his person, never averting his eyes from Nenani. Behind gritted teeth, he hissed, “Find somewhere more fitin’ fer this one to be that ain’t in m’face.”

Yale started, hastily lowering the crock he has been holding onto the table before moving to Farris’s side with alacrity and reaching out for Jae just as Farris’s fingers released their grip. Jae cried out in alarm as he dropped the three feet before landing in Yale’s outreached palms.  

“As ya say, Boss!” Yale replied, giving Jae no time to recover or add his own commentary, and promptly sprinted out the archway and into the courtyard.  

“Saen!” Farris barked, his eyes still not wavering from Nenani. On the other side of the kitchen, Saen was elbows deep in flour. Upon hearing his name, the young giant jumped, sending a small plume of flour up into the air.

“Uh, yeah?” He asked tentatively.

“Leave it be fer th’moment and go see Bart.”

“Aye, will do.” Same as Yale, Saen quickly made his exit through the archway, leaving Farris and Nenani alone. In that moment of silence, she was reminded of just how imposing a figure Farris was and being the focus of his ire was truly a terrifying experience. It was not wholly dissimilar to their first meeting and though she was absolute in her confidence he would not harm her, she could help but shrink away.

“Don’t suppose ya have some shit of a’reason fer not having yer marker, eh?” he began sternly. His voice strained as he struggled to maintain his tone. He waved a hand at her before crossing both arms and staring at her expectantly. “Well then, let’s have it.”

Her tongue felt twice its normal size and all she managed was a few false starts and stutters.

“Yer gonna just gap at me like a fucking lipper or is that all ya got?”

“N-no...” she managed to mumble out quietly.

“Gonna have t’be doin’ better than that, Dumplin,” said the spice master. He opened one palm to reveal a small scrap of leather at the end of which dangled a piece of struck metal. Her new maker. “You remember at all why these are important?”

“So...so other Vhasshalans leave me alone,” she replied, swallowing thickly against the growing tightness in her throat.

“NO!” Farris roared. “ITS SO THEY DONT FUCKIN’ EAT YA!”

Nenani jumped, stumbling back until her shoulders hit the wall and she stared wide eyed up at the giant. Hot tears fell rolled down her cheeks. Farris was red in the face and snarling, his anger open and on show. It was too hard to meet his gaze and she averted her eyes to stare at her feet.

“Thrist aint’ th’only fucker that would try t’gut n’ roast ya if he thought he could get away with it. Are ya soft in the brain t’ave forgotten that?”

“No, I-I just...I’m sorry...” Nenani whimpered.

“And ya’d be even sorrier if...”

“Farris,” said a voice from the archway, cutting his words short. Farris turned to glance over his shoulder, giving Nenani a clear view of the doorway. Captain Rheil, dressed in his red boiled leather armor stood under the entryway, and wearing a somber and serious expression. “Forgive my interruption, but I need to speak with you.”

“Can’t ya see I’m busy?” Farris growled in annoyance, but the gray haired giant’s steel gaze never wavered.

“Believe me, you will want to make time for this,” he replied. “This matter concerns the humans.”

Farris turned fully face Rheil, head tilted in interest. “Alright, on with ya then. What other trouble have these wee brats managed?”

“Nothing like that,” the captain replied, taking Farris’s affirmative response as invitation to enter, and he stepped into the kitchen proper. “This matter involves all the humans on castle grounds, I am afriad. There have been several troubling reports.”

“Reports? What reports?”

“You’re familiar with Queen Rosanna’s personal guard, Creag, correct?” Rheil asked. When Farris grunted an affirmation, he continued. “I’ve also been fielding complaints about him since the Ibronian procession arrived last month. Harassing wait staff and some of my men for the most part, but he has also made several threats against both Sawyer and Connar. There has been a sharp uptake in his behavior and the Ibronian has been outright violent since the wedding, but today both Maevis and Keral came to me about him explicitly trying to kill Jae near the Royal apartments. Your ward was reportedly with him at the time of the incident.”

Though she could not see his face, Nenani watched the muscles of Faris’s back pull taught and his fits ball up.

“That fish nosed fuck tried t’murder two children right under the King nose?” Farris’s demanded. It was a tone Nenani had not heard him use and it felt much more dangerous than his normal level of anger. A deep, guttural growl with real vehemence behind it. He fixed the captain with a razor edged glare. “Rheil, yer lot better be doin’ somethin’ ‘bout this fucker. ‘Cause I can’t be promisin’ ya that me and my boys won’t.”

The captain seemed to have anticipated this reaction and held up a placating hand. “My men are escorting him to an audience with the King as we speak and I have plenty of witnesses to attest to the event. My main mission in coming to you was to let you know to keep a short leash on the lil’un for a while. Keep her down here and out of sight while things are taken care of upstairs.”

“Aye.”

“And since the brat’s already down here as well, that makes my task all the simpler. The King requests the same of Jae. Don’t allow him to squirrel away some place of his own choosing. The King has ordered him to remain down here and under your supervision until his Majesty comes to collect him in person.”

Farris cursed and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Gods piss on it all. It’s fuckin’ Baynor all over again.”

“Luckily for us, the Ibronian does not posses nearly the political currency as my predecessor,” Rheil replied. “However, the Queen has an ample supply and my observations have been that she is heavily reliant on him.”

“Ya expectin’ any trouble?”

“No,” Rheil replied. “Nothing so bad as when Baynor was ousted. But I would rather be prepared in any case and his Majesty was very clear. Jae is to remain here.”

For a long moment, no one said anything and Nenani wondered if she had been forgotten entirely.

“Aye,” Farris said finally and nodded. “They’ll be watched well and good.”

Rheil hummed in approval and tilted his head to the side to look passed Farris to fix Nenani with a warm smile. “Haven’t see ya in a good long while, lass. Hope that walking boulder didn’t hurt ya none.”

Nenani shook her head. “No. He wasn’t really going after me.”

“So I’ve been told,” Rheil said. “Jae does seemed to have been th’ main target, but I have no doubt he’d have just as well treated ya to the same had he caught ya. Keral mentioned he found ya wanderin’ ‘round by yerself. Lost in the halls without yer marker.”

There was a teasing nature to Rheil’s words.

“S’that how ya lost it then, eh?” Farris asked, pinning her with one green eye.

She shrugged meekly. “I don’t remember it falling off. I had it and then I didn’t. I was running a lot.”

Farris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, before turning to her and walking up to the mantel. He held her new marker aloft between two fingers and as she reached out to take it, he told her firmly, “Best be learnin’ to take better care of it, Dumplin’. ‘Cause if yer ever needin’ another anytime in the next ten years, I’ll be tying one end of a short lead to ya and th’ other to a lipper barrel and ya can live in the yard.”

She stared and then nodded fervently before quickly clipped the leather around her neck. The metal was almost hot from being clenched in Farris’s fist for so long, but there was a measure of comfort with the now familiar weight being back along her collar bone. She peeked up at the kitchen master, cautiously optimistic.

“So...does this mean I’m not in trouble anymore?”

[hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting]

8. Em

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

Barnaby Lee was no stranger to me--especially since he's described so often now as Clara's sweetheart.

I mean, that was the most I could call him, right? I wasn't sure if he and Clara were really a confirmed couple, but I did know that they were fond of each other either way, the way his eyes always lit up whenever he told me about her and vice versa. Interacting with Slytherins before him made me put my guard up more than I'd like, but being friends with Hillary really showed that not all Slytherins were that bad after all. He had a kind heart, and he always came by with sweets--a good sign that he cared so much about me because he cared a lot about her.

At least to me, he's a good friend. That's enough for me.

And speaking of my sister...well, she turned into a blushing mess the minute we stepped onto the Training Grounds, walking right over to where Barnaby and Badeea were painting on big square canvases sitting atop their easels. I could see her face turn crimson as we approached them, and I had to drag her over to them with my hand firm over her wrist.

I suppose she had it really hard for him after all.

"Hey, Clara!" he greeted her with a wave. "Hey, Em!"

He stepped aside then to reveal his canvas, where a single Bowtruckle was standing in the middle of some blue and white space on the canvas, a huge smile on its face. I almost cooed in awe at the sight of it--I had always wanted to see a real Bowtruckle, and to see that it looked this cute really made me smile. But Clara looked like she was actually going to cry.

That was when I remembered that in her fourth year, she named a Bowtruckle after our brother, Jacob, and had felt fiercely protective of it after relocating him in the Forbidden Forest last year while studying for her OWLs.

"So, what do you think of my painting?" he asked us, a big cheeky grin on his face.

"It's...really cute," I offered, nodding thoughtfully before looking up at my sister.

"It's...special," Clara responded then, wiping away the tears that began to trickle down her face. "I mean, you painted a Bowtruckle..."

"Not just any Bowtruckle. It's Jacob the Bowtruckle!" Barnaby said enthusiastically. "I guess I got inspired from our OWLs study session last year, and he reminded me of how you helped me believe in myself." He reached over and gently wiped her tears with his thumbs, coaxing a smile out of my sister. "Hope you didn't mind, of course. You've become my muse more often nowadays."

Oh. Well. That was definitely what they meant by "sweetheart."

"I can't tell if you meant it's good or bad, Clara," Badeea finally said after a moment's silence, looking at the two of them quizzically as if trying to find the right time to break the ice.

"Exactly!" Barnaby responded. "That's what makes art so mysterious."

I simply glanced over from Barnaby's simple Bowtruckle painting to Badeea's nighttime shot of Hogsmeade--probably a little something to get her own creative juices flowing. I understood how much of a block she's had nowadays. "I wish I got a chance to appreciate art more," I murmured. "Never thought of it much after Beatrice got trapped in a portrait last year."

"I never thought you were still giving painting lessons to Barnaby, Badeea," Clara piped up, wiping her glasses now with the hem of her dress.

"Oh, of course. We just started again," Badeea explained. "Barnaby has big plans."

At that, Barnaby turned to us with a proud smile on his face. "Yeah! Over the summer, I learned what a 'Renaissance Man' is. It means knowing only a little bit about a lot of things."

It wasn't that far off the mark, I figured. The Renaissance people were all about embracing Enlightenment, and revolutionizing the culture of people through the arts and other things. I figured anyone with a Renaissance mind would want to have many talents. If Barnaby's aspiring to become one of them, I hope he succeeds.

"Where did you get that definition from?" I asked him with a knowing smile. "It sounds pretty accurate."

"Hm? I dunno, actually. Can't remember," Barnaby replied with a small frown, his face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm sure it must have been from somewhere...but anyway, I decided that I want to become a Renaissance Wizard."

I guess I could see now why Clara loved Barnaby so much. He had the ambition of a Slytherin, but he also had a huge heart and open mind. Of course, he wasn't always like this when they first started their friendship, but seeing them now made me nod and smile. I wasn't always a huge fan of romance, but this was like seeing a beautiful rose blossom before my eyes--something that isn't so cringey and gross. They were just being themselves around each other, and I could see the close bond they had, the way they interacted and smiled at each other in a touching way.

"Sounds ambitious," Clara finally remarked with an approving grin of her own, nodding and taking his hand. "I look forward to seeing how it turns out."

Barnaby nodded and kissed her on the cheek, which made her turn a brilliant shade of pink.

"Thanks, Clara."

I glanced over at Badeea now, who was trying so hard not to burst into giggles. I could relate. They were definitely sweethearts.

"So, what did you want to see me about?" Barnaby asked her then, swinging their linked hands slightly, to and fro.

"Actually, I need some advice about Ismelda," Clara ventured tentatively, her face now turning pale.

Andre warned me back in the courtyard that Ismelda was not one to mess with. Sure, he helped her confess her feelings to Barnaby, but that didn't mean he was okay with actually hanging around with her after the air was cleared. I couldn't imagine how a girl with morbid thoughts about blood and gore would want to hang out with someone who appreciated everything that lives. Of course, I didn't hear everything between Clara, Beatrice, and Ismelda back in the courtyard, but I could sense the tension between all three of them and know just how charged anyone would be if the names of those who brought them sheer discomfort was brought up in a conversation at all.

But Barnaby didn't flinch at all. Instead, he just frowned.

"She doesn't have a crush on me again, does she?" he asked her. "My schedule's quite packed with Renaissance Wizard activities. And making sure your sister's doing fine. And...well..."

"Yeah. I know. But no, she doesn't," Clara confirmed.

"I figured. We haven't been all that friendly in years."

"So...you won't give us advice?" I asked him. "I mean, if you haven't talked with Ismelda recently then we can try to talk with Merula. Even if she's been...guarded."

"No, of course I will," Barnaby promised. "But you'll have to duel me for it."

Duelling? I had no experience with duelling, let alone combative magic and spells. I turned to Clara now, who blanched even more at the prospect of raising her wand for another fight.

"Duel you for advice?" she asked meekly. "Why?"

"A Renaissance Wizard can't just stop at painting lessons," Barnaby explained. "I could use some duelling lessons, too."

"Diego gives duelling lessons," I chipped in then. "He's actually pretty powerful if I say so myself. One day he gave this Ravenclaw first-year girl a good Bat-Bogey Hex when she wouldn't shut up about the flowers in my hair."

And it wasn't a habit I always kept--I only wore tiny little sunflower clips in my hair that day because it was so sunny outside I had to match it. Apparently, some of us didn't appreciate it. I was only lucky that Diego was close by when the teasing happened, and he made her run and scream once it was all over. It was then when he said he wanted to protect me from anyone who tried to hurt me.

"True. I've seen it myself," Barnaby agreed. "But Clara was the one who duelled a Troll and a Dragon."

"Barnaby!" Badeea jumped in shock at that. "I'm sure those aren't exactly good memories for Clara. She was doing what had to be done to break the Portrait Curse."

Barnaby's face paled when Badeea told him, and he sighed, squeezing my sister's hand. "I'm sorry, Clara. We all know what you've been through."

"And little Em," Badeea reminded him. "It must be hard to imagine what her two older siblings had to go through here."

Clara nodded, glancing at me and Badeea. "Yeah, but if anything positive can come out of something negative..." She trailed off, smiling at me, and I knew what she meant. With another danger out of the way, even if I wasn't completely safe, she'd be well assured that my first year at Hogwarts would be as normal as it could get.

"Sounds like I could be getting my duelling lesson...?" Barnaby asked her, an eager grin on his face.

"All right," Clara eventually agreed. "Let's duel."

Badeea quickly brought me away from the two as they took their positions, bowing to each other before going into their ready stance. With their wands drawn, I couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated. I never saw Clara looking this bold before--not while I witnessed her with red puffy eyes and slouched frame that curled into a fetal position more than once over the summer. Then again, there was a lot to my sister that I know nothing about. She shared a stronger bond with Jacob when we were younger, after all.

When Jacob first went missing, all my parents could say was that he was taking a trip with his friends, and that he would be back soon. As the years went by, though, the image of Jacob--whatever impression he first left in my naive toddler mind--faded away from my memory. He never returned from whatever trip he took, and it lead to my parents fighting more than I was used to. My mother was badly humiliated, my father embarrassed and angry.

His gardens almost withered from the withdrawal of life that everyone felt. Her books were taken off the shelves of Flourish and Blotts to save her from the horrible reviews critics have given her.

And me? I could only do so much to help them calm down. I reminded them of the lie they told me. I tried to offer them the stuffed magical creatures I was gifted. But every day, they pulled more away from me, isolating themselves in a world where the family was forever deemed dysfunctional, incomplete, and practically irreparable. Only last summer did the truth come out, and from my older sister who saw him--probably for the last time.

Now I understood why Merula and Ben had changed so much from how Clara first saw them. The search for the Cursed Vaults had tested not only their individual abilities. They've tested the strength of their alliance with others, too--no one would dare enter the Cursed Vaults alone, after all. Rakepick chose her, Merula, and Bill Weasley as her apprentice curse-breakers for a reason.

No one imagined it would be for dragon bait.

I could see Clara cast her spells with so much force, almost like the night she was training with Merula. Barnaby still got a few chances to recover, but it was mostly Clara casting all the spells she needed. When it was finally over, she and Barnaby returned to us, Barnaby rubbing his eyes from where the handkerchief slapped him to finish off the duel.

"Wow. You sure schooled me, Clara," Barnaby remarked. "I feel I'm a better dueller already!"

"Indeed. You really are quite good, Clara," Badeea complimented with a smile.

Clara simply nodded, and I could see the steel melting from her eyes as she smiled back at the two of them. "Thank you both."

"So about Ismelda...what did you want to know?" Barnaby asked us then.

"Well, Ismelda's sort of taken Beatrice Haywood under her wing," Clara began.

"Ismelda and Penny's little sister?" Barnaby's eyes darted from me to Clara, over and over. "Odd pair."

"Beatrice had been a little lost since getting out of the painting, and her search ended up here," Clara explained. "And Penny's worried about Beatrice falling under the wrong influence. Ismelda can be rather jaded--but Ismelda is also being so protective of Beatrice that there's no getting by her."

"You must know something that can help, Barnaby," I piped up. "After all, you were with Ismelda when you and my sister first met."

"And Merula too," Barnaby recalled grimly.

"Don't get us started on Merula," Clara warned him. "She's reaching new levels of jaded."

Barnaby nodded thoughtfully, scratching his chin pensively. Then he looked up at Clara, and I thought I saw a glimmer of fondness in his eyes.

"Honestly, what helped me the most...was time with you," Barnaby stated. "I wanted friends. Everyone does. But the ones I first found were often bitter and cruel. So I often joined in, afraid to be left out--until you showed me I could have friends that didn't behave that way."

Something about Barnaby's words hit home for me. I wanted friends, too. Clara's often encouraging me to have a normal school year in her stead, with all the curse-breaking adventures she has going on. What if my flaw of being left out so much turns into a craving for company--even company with the worst folk? I just hoped Hillary wouldn't turn into a villain I had to look out for. For now, though, I could say Eunice and Travis were enough to deal with.

"So that's my best advice," Barnaby said eventually. "Spend time around Beatrice, whether Ismelda's around or not. Beatrice probably just wants to feel like she's part of something--soon she'll see that she has choices."

Beatrice didn't even have many friends to begin with, now that I thought about it. In a way, she must have had it worse than me. I looked up at Clara, who was looking at Badeea, the two of them exchanging surprised glances.

"That was so...wise," Badeea eventually managed to say.

"Rather touching, too," Clara added, her cheeks colouring a brilliant pink yet again.

"I think I can give it a go," I finally agreed. "Beatrice and I are in the same house, after all. If she could see me as a friend rather than just Penny's friend's sister, then maybe we could get somewhere with a new friendship."

Clara nodded. "You sure, though? You told me she--"

"Scared me a bit. She still does," I admitted. "But Barnaby's right. Reaching out to her might be the best option for us, and she and I are almost the same age, too. Maybe she'll understand."

Barnaby nodded at me then and smiled, handing me a Chocolate Frog box that he had in his pocket. "I hope it works out, little Em."

"And I'll head back to the Courtyard to see if Beatrice is still there," Clara offered. She smiled fondly at him before wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, Barnaby. You just might be a Renaissance Wizard after all."

Once more, Badeea looked like she was going to dissolve in a fit of giggles, and I chuckled slightly at the sight of my sister in the arms of someone she loved and cherished.

I could truly see them being happy together. After all, they were each other's sweethearts. But would Clara still be this happy, with the possibility of a final curse still looming over the school?

[olivia-y113]

Les Miserables Stage Concert (15-AUG-2019)

A stage full of amazing voices, but to me it just didn’t feel like Les Mis.

General: this is the show that was conceived (in 2010) for the O2 Arena, which had a much grander stage and much larger capacity. While I admire the effort they put in to fit it into the Gielgud, I think it would’ve been better to start from scratch. This is not the O2 (or the Royal Albert Hall) and having the entire cast - plus orchestra - on stage at all times made it feel overcrowded and cluttered. Also, wouldn’t the cast (especially the ensemble) start going stir-crazy after a while? It’s one thing to sit on stage for the entire show if it’s a one-off (or a very limited run), but 16 weeks, with 8 shows a week?

John Owen-Jones (Jean Valjean): I probably don’t need to say anything really. Absolutely lives up to his reputation. A few weeks ago I watched him perform ‘Bring Him Home’ in a concert and was completely sold just based on that. Given how so many consider him to be the best JVJ ever, I was really surprised he didn’t get equal billing alongside Alfie Boe, but then again I don’t understand anything CamMack does anymore now.

Michael Ball (Javert): pretty much what I was expecting, which…wasn’t very much. He’s a Les Mis legend and I love him in the TAC, but I just don’t think he’s suited to this role. I can’t say exactly how much of it is influenced by being so used to him as Marius*. His enunciation was a bit strange, like he was clenching his teeth the whole time (not sure if it’s a deliberate choice or just something weird on the night). He also managed to poke himself with the baton at one point, which is a first for any Javert I’ve watched.

*When I watched David Thaxton and Bradley Jaden as Javert, I was not at all influenced by their turn as Enjolras.

Carrie Hope Fletcher (Fantine): sigh. I think I feel about Carrie as Fantine the way a lot of people feel about Alfie Boe as JVJ - wonderful singer with fantastic vocals, but just...not that character (just as well it’s a concert I guess). The drastically different costume didn’t help with the illusion either. I simply didn’t feel anything even at the parts that are meant to be highly emotionally charged.

Rob Houchen (Marius) / Bradley Jaden (Enjolras): they’re known quantities, so no surprises here. Rob doesn’t seem to have changed at all since he left the stage show, it was pretty much watching the same Marius in a different (more brightly coloured) costume. I’m not as enamoured with Bradley’s Enjolras as a lot of people are, but after how weak I found Samuel Edwards I really appreciated the power that he brought back to the role. Although I found it a bit hard to get used to Enjolras with a man bun…why couldn’t they just give him back the ponytail?

Lily Kerhoas (Cosette) / Shan Ako (Eponine): haven’t heard of either of them before this and went in with no expectations. Pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed both of them. I always felt like Cosette is probably the most difficult character to get ‘right’, considering how little she has to do, but Lily managed to make her very sweet and endearing, and not turn her into a petulant child in the ‘I yearn for the truth that you know…’ scene. Shan’s Eponine reminded me a bit of Lea Salonga - not so much in vocals but in attitude. I don’t know if they’ll be kept in the cast when the show moves back next door in December, but I certainly hope so.

Matt Lucas (Thernadier) / Katy Secombe (Mme Thenadier): glad I was warned about all the ad-libbing, so I was able to brace myself for the cringe. I know Matt Lucas is super popular here (he got applause just for walking on stage) and from his interviews and panel show appearances he seems like a genuinely lovely person, but I’ll be quite happy if he is never involved in a production of Les Mis again. Just…stop (Courgette? Seriously?). I was also a bit disappointed with Katy because I really enjoyed her performance when she was in the stage show, but I think she may have been trying to match the tone set by Matt and it just felt over the top.

Misc: it was lovely to have so many past performers back. Not many of them had much solo stage time but it was fun to try and spot familiar faces in the ensembles. I really wish I could’ve caught Barnaby Hughes as Enjolras or Javert at the Queen’s, he does really well with what little he has here. Earl Carpenter played the Bishop, and it was rather amusing to watch his interaction with JOJ given his role in the past.

Overall, I think this concert very much relies on the lure of the cast and sentiment of long-time fans for ticket sales. If this was my first exposure to Les Mis (without knowing any of the actors) I doubt I would’ve been as sold on it. (I realise that’s probably an ironic thing given as how it was 10th Anniversary Concert that first made me fall in love with the show.) 

They cut out a lot of lines which made it about 15 minutes shorter, but it felt more dragged out somehow. Part of it I suspect has to do with the lack of action and movement (I kept expecting the stage to rotate at certain moments), but also it just didn’t sustain the emotional connection for me. Still, it got a standing ovation (as I expect it to for every show during this run) so I’m sure mine is the minority opinion. 

When tickets were first released I booked a few shows, but now I’m contemplating whether to try and return or transfer tickets. I don’t regret going, because I love Les Mis and this was definitely something I wanted to experience, but unlike the original stage production, it doesn’t inspire me to want to go back again and again. It’s just another show.

[batgirl-87]

14 and 19 for the Hogwarts Mystery prompts :)

Thank you for the ask! =)

Hogwarts Mystery Prompts:

14. Favourite Class?

While her favourite core curriculum class is Charms, her favourite elective is Alchemy which is a course that doesn’t get a lot of attention or students signing up for it for whatever reason Keira doesn’t understand but she would demand to be able to take that class even if she was the only one! 

“Thank you for waiting, Miss Black. How can I help you?” Keira stood in front of the Headmaster’s desk with quite the determined look on her face even after waiting for him to speak with her for what felt like hours. 

“I want to take Alchemy.” She had planned on requesting taking the elective in a much more charming way than that but again he left her waiting for what felt like hours so some of that charm got exhausted and annoyed. 

“Well I appreciate your eagerness to learn and expand your skills, Miss Black. But we only offer electives if enough students are interested in the subject. And I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with an already heavy class curriculum, your Prefect and Quidditch Captain duties, and your other extracurriculars…” 

Keira knew exactly what he meant by ‘extracurriculars’ and she didn’t feel the need to elaborate on that. Despite the mention of her extracurriculars, her steadfast gaze remained unwavering. “I understand I have a lot of responsibilities on my plate but I have managed all those responsibilities for years and my grades haven’t suffered, I was able to become Prefect and Quidditch Captain and haven’t allowed those responsibilities to fall aside - I know I have a lot on my plate but this is something I really want. And I don’t feel like I should have to be punished and denied something I want, something that will grow and enhance my skills, because other students aren’t interested like I am. You can’t deny me a learning opportunity at a school just because other students want a free period to snog in the History of Magic section in the library!”

Keira’s eyes widened slightly once she finished realizing she just had a little outburst at the Headmaster of the school. Whoops… Dumbledore, ever the calm and contemplative man, hardly seemed fazed by her passionate plea. After a long silence which once again felt like hours to Keira the Headmaster finally spoke. “I appreciate your unyielding ambition. And I suppose as a school it is our duty to encourage and inspire curious minds and provide them with valuable learning experiences to grow their skills. I will have a talk with the teaching staff and see if we can not determine a schedule for you to accommodate an extra class.”

Keira visibly relaxed as she listened to the Headmaster, sure for a moment there she was about to have more detention added to her Hogwarts life. “Really?” When the Headmaster gave her a small smile with a twinkle in his eye Keira had to fight the urge to jump up and down in excitement. “Thank you, Headmaster! Really! I’ll take the class after dinner if I have to or first thing early in the morning before classes start - maybe, I mean, I’m not really a morning person but… Hey, if it helps when determining my schedule I am willing to drop Potions to make room,” she teased…slightly…. Fortunately the Headmaster chuckled at her little joke before assuring her they could figure out a class schedule for her where she could take all her classes.

Keira thanked him again, and again, and probably a few more times as she headed out of his office, almost skipping. He had accommodated her and been very understanding towards situations she found herself in since attending the school and she really did appreciate it. As she approached the door to his office she suddenly skidded to a halt. “Oh… about that library comment… I was just trying to make a point, that wasn’t to be taken literally or anything…”

“Already forgotten, Miss Black,” the Headmaster assured her from his desk. “Besides, I should have nothing to worry about when I have such capable and responsible Prefects such as yourself,” he added, giving her a look from over the top of his glasses to confirm she was, in fact, this responsible Prefect she claims to be, right?

“Right, yeah, of course. I’m on patrol,” Keira assured a bit awkwardly before thanking him again. “Yep, I’ve definitely never been caught snogging in the History of Magic section in the library,” she muttered to herself under her breath as she turned and left the Headmaster’s office. 

19. Favourite Professor?

While Keira was proud to be a Slytherin, despite the negative stereotypes associated with it, Professor Flitwick made her wish she got sorted into Ravenclaw instead. Until she remembered they have to walk up all those stairs to their Dorm, answer a riddle to get in, and then somehow attempt to relax, study, and sleep with the gusting wind making it sound like they were in the middle of a tornado… She loved being under the lake. 

Professor Flitwick had always been a kind, patient, encouraging, and supportive educator. It was easy for him to be one of the most beloved and favourite teachers of Hogwarts among all the students. But what really set up apart from the other Professors for Keira occurred during the whole ‘Werewolf Mystery of Hogwarts’ where Barnaby’s dimwitted Uncle showed up. How she got stuck working with him Keira still has no idea. But when they went to search the Charms classroom and spoke to Professor Flitwick, Keira gained a whole new found appreciation for the Ravenclaw Head of House. 

“Werewolves are victims. I don’t believe they should bet rapped, persecuted, and destroyed… I’m quite certain that most werewolves manage their condition without hurting anyone.”

Keira was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions at Professor’s Flitwick’s impassioned speech. Fortunately she didn’t run over and hug him - that would have been awkward. But his words gave her hope that there were individuals out there like him who thought this way and maybe there could be a brighter, better future for certain members of the werewolf community. Ever since that moment Professor Flitwick has held a special place in her heart and always will. 

[freckledskittles]

Reibert Secret Santa 2018: One And The Same

Here is a wonderfully fluffy (and overly dramatic) Reibert fic, for @pretty-eyes-jaeger <3 Surprise! I was so excited to write this for you, and I really hope you enjoy it! 

For a little bit of reference: both Reiner and Bertholdt are in their junior year of college

Bertholdt peeked outside his bedroom door to see where his roommates were located. He heard their voices, and he knew they were staying in, but he didn’t want to grab their attention. If he could have any superpower, he would wish for chameleon-like skin in order to blend in with his surroundings. His prominent nose and extreme height didn’t make it easy for him.

He double-checked, triple-checked, his pockets, he read over his texts for the time and place of the date—well, maybe he should call it a meeting, he didn’t know if it could be classified as a date—or if the person joining him wanted it to be called a date—and he gave himself a once-over one more time. He would be as ready as he could possibly be. Now to sneak out.

Bertholdt opened the door once more, slowly and hoping the door wouldn’t creak. He slipped through the slim crack and closed his door slowly. Marco and Ymir were talking in the kitchen and had no possible way of seeing him. Their attention was clearly on something away from the front door. He had a way out.

“I have to go out for something,” he said as he passed the kitchen. “I’ll be back later.”

Before he could even reach the front door, he was stopped by a wolf whistle and silent awes. Oh no. “You’re looking good for someone just going out!” Ymir exclaimed.

“They’re just clothes.” They couldn’t buy into it. They would never.

“Are you going on a date?!” Marco asked.

Bertholdt let out a long sigh. If he didn’t tell them now, they would only find out from someone else—namely, his “date’s” roommates. “Yes. I’m going out with Reiner.” He tried to open the door and leave, but the stampede of feet scared him away from the door.

Ymir slammed her hand on the door to stop him from escaping. Marco had a coy smirk on his face, but Ymir had a more knowing look on her face. There was no way she could have known about their plans—she had a sort of friendly rivalry with his “date,” but not enough to warrant a pry into their affairs.

“Jean told me you and Reiner had something planned,” Marco teased. “I didn’t think it would be a date.”

Bertholdt shrugged. His hand gripped the doorknob and tugged on it, but Ymir’s hand didn’t budge. “He asked me out when we were studying the other day, and I said yes.”

“That’s how dates work, Bertl,” Ymir pointed out. “I’m concerned, though, because you said yourself that you were just friends.”

Marco nodded eagerly. “I remember that! You were very adamant that you guys were friends.”

“We are,” Bertholdt insisted. “We’re not doing anything crazy.”

“No, of course not,” Ymir shook her head. She nudged Marco, who giggled behind his hand. “Why would you? You’re pretty square.”

Bertholdt tugged on the knob once more, and Marco lifted Ymir’s hand off of the door. “Have fun on your date!” Marco called after him. “Stay safe!” Ymir’s cackle was the last he heard from his apartment as the door closed.

Heading down the stairs of his building and to his car, Bertholdt wondered how he had gotten here. Ymir and Marco were more excited that he was going on a “date” with Reiner than they were that he was interested in Reiner. Which he was, a little bit. But they were completely different people, and he questioned how they had found an interest in each other in the first place and why no one—or, rather, the ones who saw their relationship first-hand—wasn’t questioning it.

Bertholdt texted Reiner to let him know that he was on his way and put in his address despite knowing the route to take. He wanted to be safe; he didn’t know what could go wrong on his way there. There was so much to think about—how to get to Reiner’s, if he was dressed appropriately, what Reiner’s roommates would say—he had to be sure something would ensure he made it in one piece.

And there it was. In a matter of minutes, Bertholdt’s phone alerted him of the apartment he was looking for. The lights were on, and he noted Jean’s and Armin’s cars parked in the back. He pulled up to the side of the building and turned off the ignition. Was it polite to escort his date-slash-hangout-partner to his car? He couldn’t remember the last time he had been on a date. Reiner probably had enough experience, but Bertholdt refused to put that much pressure on him.

He knocked as lightly as he could, but the two excited barks from Reiner’s dog were still unavoidable. Bertholdt hoped that Reiner would open the door and help avoid some awkward waiting, but he was met with Jean instead. In retrospect, it wasn’t surprising. Just upsetting.

“Hey, Bert,” Jean greeted him with a smirk. Behind him, a big black nose nudged his way to the front and smiled. “You here to pick up Reiner?”

“Yes, I am,” Bertholdt responded, stepping over the threshold. Reiner’s dog, now that he was able to see him, hopped in place. His thin tail wagged back and forth in unmatched enthusiasm. “How’s it going, Barnaby?”

Barnaby kissed his face and nudged his nose against his jaw. Jean’s amused laugh was cut off by an alarmed cry as he dove to catch a cup from shattering as carnage from Barnaby’s tail, but he regained his composure. “So, Reiner finally asked you on a date, huh?”

“It’s not a date!” Reiner called from upstairs. “We’re getting drinks and hanging out!”

“That counts as a date,” Armin remarked. He poked his head out from the kitchen and waved, clearly in the middle of cooking for himself and Jean judging by the smell wafting from the kitchen. “Hi, Bertholdt. Barnaby was very excited to hear you were coming over.”

“I wish he could come with us,” Bertholdt said, scratching a spot behind Barnaby’s ear that made him roll over and demand the same attention on his belly. “Too bad dogs aren’t allowed in my car.”

“Marco risks his allergies all the time to pet Barnaby,” Jean scoffed. “You’re telling me he’d be offended of finding dog hair in your car?”

Reiner finally came down the stairs, and Bertholdt found himself looking away shyly. There was nothing overtly fancy about the place they were going, but he was still shocked by the amount of effort put into his appearance. It was incredible what a nice pair of jeans and a nice polo, complemented by a navy blue flannel, could do. Bertholdt immediately felt overdressed in a forest green sweater.

“Wow,” Reiner whispered when Bertholdt stood up. Barnaby trotted over to his human’s side. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” Bertholdt smiled. His face was instantly burning with embarrassment. Aside from the sweater, he had messed with his hair for what felt like an hour to style it in the right way: relaxed, for the setting, but still nice. “You, uh, and you also look good.”

“You think so? It’s not too casual?” Reiner turned around. “I don’t wanna look like shit on our first outing.”

“I mean, we’re not going to a five-star restaurant. I don’t really…” Bertholdt shrugged, resisting the urge to scuff his feet, “I don’t mind what you look like. As long as we have fun.”

A large grin split on Reiner’s face. Bertholdt heard the soft snickers from behind him, but he was too focused on the look of pure glee that he was being faced with. It was nearly overwhelming; no one could ever share that much emotion, let alone aim it towards him.

Reiner escorted them out of the apartment, giving Barnaby one last goodbye and promise to return, before he opened the front door and waved him forward. Bertholdt heard Jean say something along the lines of “the Art and the Science are a perfect match,” but the phrase was muffled by the front door. And Reiner didn’t seem distracted or bothered by it, so he put it aside for now.

“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight,” Reiner said when they got in the car and headed toward the cafe. He didn’t have a car and apologized profusely for being unable to drive for himself, but Bertholdt saw no problem in it.

“I’m happy to go out with you,” Bertholdt answered and immediately bit his tongue. Beside him, Reiner shifted slightly. “I-I mean, like, how we’re going out to hang out as, uh, friends—”

“Yeah, exactly.” Reiner, thankfully, seemed just as eager to drive the attention away from the mistake. “We’re one hundred percent going as friends.”

“Have you…” He didn’t finish his question, mostly out of self-sabotage. If being an extrovert was a profession, Reiner would get hired in an instant. He thrived in conversation, using words in ways that he could not possibly recreate. He shined surrounded by people, and yet despite the supposed athletic legacy he had in high school, his time in university had allowed him to embrace his intellect and who he was.

“Have I what?”

A bit too intelligent. He was diligently observant. “Have you ever gone on a date before?”

Reiner was silent. Bertholdt gave him the time to answer, and when one didn’t come, he looked over at his companion to see why. There was a critical draw to his brow, but he was staring out the window. His jaw was clenched, his fist pressed against his lips. Something told Bertholdt that the answer was not as obvious as he initially thought. If that was the case, they had more in common than he initially thought.

“I can’t remember the last time I went on a date,” Bertholdt offered. He knew better than anyone that having someone address a crisis he was going through only rubbed salt on the wound, but he didn’t know any other way he could help. The only thing he could think of was to offer some sort of solace for Reiner—who, as it might look, was not as experienced with certain social outings. “I mean, I’m not, like, tracking them. I just never really connected with people I dated before. Oh god, that sounded bad, I don’t include you in that—”

“No, it’s okay, don’t worry.” Reiner shifted, looking forward again but not facing Bertholdt. It was almost as if he was scared to face him. “I get what you’re trying to say. I sorta have the same problem.”

“Oh. Really?”

Reiner nodded. “I’ve dated a few people, way back in freshman year of college, but I never… We didn’t click.” His eyes darted to a couple walking their dog, who was wagging his tail with every bush he passed. “Every date felt like I was doing it for someone else’s happiness and not my own.”

There could be a million reasons why he had said it like that. Bertholdt didn’t want to inject on something that was most likely private, so he didn’t push for an answer. “Yeah. I can only remember one or two people I went out with who weren’t suggested by someone I know. You don’t realize how much your friends can influence you until they suggest someone to date and you go along with it because you don’t see any reason not to.”

“But you also like girls. That’s the only difference.”

Oh. Well. That was certainly a chord struck.

They had a talk about sexualities a while back, when they first started talking casually. Bertholdt didn’t see a reason to label himself, but for simplicity’s sake, he fell somewhere in the umbrella of bisexuality. Probably pansexual, if he critically thought about it, but it wasn’t something he wanted to worry himself over. If someone interested him, he would think about why they did and not worry about their identity. It wasn’t a major interest for him.

Reiner, on the other hand, made his opinion on labeling loud and clear from the start.

“I think the queer community needs labels,” he had said one afternoon. Marco and Jean had organized a get-together with a few friends, although Bertholdt suspected it was more for each other than anything else. “There’s so much uncertainty surrounding us. You don’t know who’s okay with you being gay and who’s not, or whether or not someone at work is gonna find out and kick you out. If we can at least know who we are, it’ll ease the pain of the other things.”

Bertholdt saw the benefit in it, even if he didn’t fall under it himself. If it made other people happy, he wasn’t going to stop them. And when he said that to Reiner, he was met with a look that made his heart clench. Eyes laden with admiration, with a touch of appreciation, sparkling into the swirl of bitter green that made up his eyes. If he were to guess, that was the moment Reiner caught interest in him.

“So,” Bertholdt said, hesitating to focus on the road, “you’ve only dated, um…”

“I’ve never dated a guy,” Reiner admitted for him. His gaze was equally focused on the road and cars in front of them, but for a different reason. “You’re the first one I’ve…felt brave enough to ask out. To hang out,” he added at the last second.

He couldn’t help but smile. Bertholdt was the one saying that sort of thing to others, not the other way around. His hands clenched the steering wheel, and he could feel his palms start to sweat; there was so much to be expected from him. If this went wrong, he could possibly screw it up for the rest of Reiner’s dating life. But, Bertholdt countered internally as he pulled up to the cafe, there was no way he could. Reiner was understanding, did not stomp over his feelings, and always checked to make sure he was comfortable. There would have to be a large and unknown disturbance to destroy the night. And Bertholdt quelled the anxiety before it overcame him: there was no rational solution to it, which meant there was nothing to worry about.

The duo made their way into the cafe, which was pleasantly spare, with a few patrons littering the seating area and two in line. Bertholdt knew what he was getting before he was even in line—a vanilla bean, something that wouldn’t upset his stomach, with a caramel drizzle—but Reiner critically eyed the menu.

“There’s a lot of coffee,” he mumbled softly.

“It’s a cafe,” Bertholdt simply said.

“Yeah, but you think there’d be some variety.” Reiner waved absentmindedly at the menu. “It’s just the same thing with more crap in it than the one before it.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that. There was something endearing about Reiner’s logic behind certain things. “Are you not a fan of coffee?”

“By the time you finish making coffee, it’s not even coffee anymore. There’s milk, cream, sugar, sweetener, creamer, which is different from cream—”

“You’ve thought about this a lot.”

Reiner’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I’m wrong?”

“I’m just saying you’re very knowledgeable, for someone who doesn’t like coffee.”

“Hey,” he nudged him, “I do my research. I know what I like.”

“You picked this place and didn’t know it was made up entirely of coffee, so how good is your research?”

Reiner scowled at that and turned back to the menu with a huff. Bertholdt stifled a laugh and eyed the display of treats next to the register. Maybe a croissant or danish would do.

It was their turn at the register, and Reiner approached it with a large smile. He put in his order of Earl Gray without hesitation, and the way he turned to Bertholdt to ask for his order was soft and gentle. It was appreciated, because Bertholdt was rarely vocal of his social anxiety. He supposed it was obvious in terms of physicality and his interaction with others, but still. It was nice that Reiner didn’t put him in an uncomfortable place.

Bertholdt started to pull out money to pay, but Reiner had already handed over his card. He didn’t even look up at him to acknowledge the shady move. Instead, he pointed to a picture of a dog taped to a plastic box on the counter. “That’s a cute dog.”

“Thanks,” the barista grinned, “she’s our manager’s. We found her abandoned behind the dumpster out back. She has glaucoma and is completely blind in both eyes, but she’s so kind and energetic. We converted our tip jar into a donation jar so that she can have surgery to ease some pain in her eyes.”

“Aww, I bet she’s the best. What kind of dog is she?”

“We know she’s half-labrador, but we think she has some hound in her.”

“No way! I have a lab-hound mix!” Reiner instantly dug for his phone and showed his wallpaper, which was a candid photo of Barnaby smiling up at the camera. The barista cooed softly at the picture and complimented on how beautiful he was, to which Reiner laughed and told his pup’s gotcha story. Bertholdt, while the two were distracted, put the money he wanted to use for the drinks into the box. He took their snacks from the other barista, but there was already a line of two other people behind them. They eyed the chatters with disdain, which Bertholdt saw as his chance to slip away. He waited for their drinks instead, and the worry in his chest from the unwanted attention died down.

Reiner rejoined him a minute later, still smiling from his conversation about dogs and how great they were. He bumped his hip with Bertholdt’s. “You doing okay?”

Bertholdt nodded and smiled reassuringly. Separated from the people and the commotion of conversation had eased his nerves. “I’m good, thank you,” he replied. “That dog was cute.”

Reiner sighed and rested his head briefly on Bertholdt’s shoulder before pulling back as quick as it had landed. “I know, isn’t she?! Barnaby would love her.”

“To be fair, Barnaby is friends with everyone he meets.”

“True, true.” They paused, Reiner retrieving their drinks from the barista, and they decided on a table in the corner for their hangout. “Do you think he’d get along with Florence?”

Bertholdt shrugged, tearing off a piece of his danish. “I think so. She doesn’t really mind animals that are bigger than her, but I think Barnaby’s size might intimidate her.”

Reiner, steeping his tea, pouted. “Aww, he’s not that big.”

“He’s taller than regular dogs. But she might be okay after a while.”

When he looked back up at his date friend, his friend, he was taken aback by the teasing smirk. “So is that a plan in the future?”

Bertholdt gulped at the suggestion of a possible “next time.” He hadn’t considered it with Reiner, despite how well things seemed to have gone so far, but he assumed it wouldn’t be bad. He felt good, he liked Reiner, but that wasn’t any guarantee of a next time happening.

A dog walked by outside, which Reiner eagerly pointed out with a bright beam, but he took a sip of his tea and turned back to Bertholdt again. He didn’t dwell on the new presence, staying focused on the boy across from him who was suddenly enraptured with the action. Reiner was giving him his full attention, without hesitation, and without overwhelming the amount he threw at him, as if he knew the exact measurements of how much resulted in a social overload.

“How’s your drink?” Reiner asked after a beat of silence.

“It’s good.” Bertholdt thought about offering him a sip, just a brief musing thought, but decided against it.

“Cool, cool. You a big coffee drinker?”

“I try not to drink it past a certain time. It doesn’t always agree with me.”

“Oh, I get that.” Reiner sat back in his chair, almost pouting. “I can’t have anything spicy before bed. I’m like a gremlin, only worse.”

Bertholdt chuckled at the reference. Reiner smiled into his tea. “I didn’t think there was someone with tastes as picky as me.”

“I wish it wasn’t like that. I love spicy foods.”

“I can do without them, but a little spice isn’t too bad. I like Mexican hot chocolate, but that may just be because I grew up with it.”

“You’re Mexican?”

“On my mom’s side. ‘Bertholdt’ is just a ruse.”

Reiner laughed—boisterous and disruptive of the surrounding tables. The patrons sitting by themselves turned at the loud sound. “The ultimate trick. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Bertholdt practically caved in on himself. He didn’t much care for surprises—too much anticipation, which led to anxiety, which steered right into a panic, which he didn’t need in his life. But thinking of himself as one? That was the ultimate surprise. “I, uh, never really thought of myself as that. I always thought I was pretty predictable.”

Reiner shook his head, looking unimpressed, to say the least. “I beg to differ. You’re so tall, but you’re so quiet.”

“That’s the only thing that’s surprising about me.”

“Have you tried a jalapeño?”

“No, it tastes weird—”

“But you’re Mexican!”

Bertholdt rolled his eyes—rather uncharacteristic, but there was something familiar about Reiner that made him feel safe in letting his guard down. “As opposed to you, who is very predictable.”

Reiner’s jaw dropped. “How am I predictable? I’m full of surprises!” He sat back again, this time waving to his body. “Come on, guess something about me. Predict something, Hoover.”

“Fine.” He took one glance, up and down, and remembered something he had overheard. Talk about high school wasn’t common for college students once they trudged through college. However, there was something unique about his experience that Jean had pointed out, something related to how they met. “Well, your muscles are huge—”

“I’m glad you noticed.” Reiner didn’t wink—which was a surprise, considering of the times anyone commented on his size, he did exactly that—but there was a twitch in his biceps that made his sleeves just a tad tighter.

“So you played a sport in high school. Football’s the most obvious, but it could have been wrestling.”

Reiner thought on it for a moment and shrugged. “I’ll give it to you. I played football for two years and then quit.”

“How come?”

“I didn’t wanna play anymore. At that point in my life, it was either get a scholarship for sports or a scholarship for my grades, and I had to decide which one was more important.”

“Oh.” Maybe he had been wrong. Perhaps Reiner was equally surprising. “And you chose your grades.”

“I wanna dig for artifacts, not tackle guys. And even now, it’s easier for people to accept me as Reiner than if I had to play a sport.”

The way he had said his name—as if there were quotation marks around it—had the same emphasis if he had declared his sexuality. Reiner had an identity that many would not, and did not, approve of. To be a football player dealing with that, he could not begin to relate or understand. He could, however, comprehend the struggle of learning to love himself. And Bertholdt didn’t need words to tell him that Reiner had had problems with that.

“It’s hard to decide what you want versus what others want,” Bertholdt said in a low voice. Reiner smiled, visibly comforted by the words. “Eventually, you lose who you are and don’t really understand yourself.”

“Exactly.” His expression was gentle, unlike the brass nature he constantly presented. He reached across the table and turned his hand up and fingers outstretched. Bertholdt met his fingers in a soft embrace, tangling together in warmth. Reiner felt like a bonfire, hot waves bouncing off his hand and against Bertholdt’s palm. “The hardest thing I’ve had to do was accept myself on my own terms and no one else’s.”

“Because the only thing you’re certain of is what other people think of you.”

“Yep.” Reiner smiled, and he removed his hand. “Looks like we’re not too surprising after all, huh?”

Bertholdt shook his head gently, though his lips turned upward at the indication. “I guess we aren’t.”

The rest of the date continued in soft conversation; eventually, Reiner moved closer to Bertholdt, under the pretense that he was getting cold. Bertholdt pointed out that it wasn’t that chilly, only sixty degrees, but Reiner was adamant that the temperature was a lie. Bertholdt took it as a confirmation that science was lying to him, which Reiner had not appreciated and swore his revenge.

They left the cafe a while later, Reiner cozied up to Bertholdt’s side. He liked the irony of he, the introvert, supporting the extrovert, always warm and beaming, in his search for heat. Thankfully, Bertholdt’s body always seemed to run in a constant state of warmth, so his body was the perfect solution.

“It could snow,” Reiner pointed out. He had yet to get into the car, opting instead to stand and look up at the sky. “There’s a ring around the moon.”

“You are very dramatic,” Bertholdt remarked as he started the car. He put the air on nice and warm for his apparently light-skinned companion. “I feel bad for Barnaby.”

“He’s worse than me! If I have to take a piss, and he doesn’t see me leave, he’s beside himself. The world is ending, and nothing will cure him.”

“I can understand that.”

“Why, because of my desirably devilish looks?”

“No, but we can talk about lying another time.”

“Ooh, that hurt, Bert.” Reiner gripped his chest and fell back against his seat. “I’m unable to recover.”

Bertholdt let out a long sigh despite Reiner’s amused laughs. “I’m desensitized to your acts. Ymir and Marco might as well be theater majors.”

“Why, because they long for love they can get if they just ask?” Reiner paused, then backtracked. “Or anyone could, really. Jean says Marco will never look at him like that, even though he literally does every time they’re together.”

“It’s getting tiring. We should do something about it.”

“What, as thanks for getting us together? Wait, uh—” Reiner scrambled for the right words. “I don’t—that wasn’t to say that we’re—I mean, yeah, I like you, but, like, I don’t wanna force you—”

“That would work,” Bertholdt cut him off. Reiner stayed deathly silent, his hands digging into his thighs. “We can thank them for introducing us because I don’t think we would have met up like this if it weren’t for them. And,” he added, because that look of fear needed a good dose of reassurance, “there wouldn’t be a next time.”

It took a second for the words to sink in. Reiner was still ramrod straight in the passenger seat, but he relaxed and let out a long sigh as if he had been holding his breath. Bertholdt glanced at him for a brief moment and saw the thankful glance. He met it with a smile of his own and offered a hand. Reiner patted it gently.

“Focus on driving. I’m okay.” He did, however, give a quick squeeze to his palm before setting his hands back in his lap. “Thank you.”

His heart melted into a puddle and pooled at his feet, overwhelmed with this blond boy who could break the sound barrier with his laugh and offer soft condolences in the next breath. He had the body of a linebacker but the interests of an archaeologist. Reiner was as different in his ways as Bertholdt was in his. The similarity made for a nice pair, if he did say so himself.

Bertholdt pulled up to Reiner’s apartment and got out to walk him to the door. Under the porch light, he noticed how scared Reiner actually was: his hands wrung together, his feet scuffed, his eyes darted from Bertholdt’s face to the ground to the door. Bertholdt felt equally uneasy, if only because the end of the night would decide how the rest of their relationship would play out.

“We should do this again,” he decided. Reiner, still withdrawn, gave a trance-like nod. Bertholdt nudged his foot gently. “As an actual date. With dinner. If you want.”

Reiner gulped and nodded, this one more confident but still hesitant. “Um, yeah, for sure. A…date.” He wasn’t fully understanding what this was—what they were—and Bertholdt didn’t see much to worry about. He could be with Reiner, and they could do things together, and it would be nice. Tonight proved that much. But Reiner needed a bit more confirmation into what they were going to be.

Bertholdt offered his arms, inviting him for a hug, and Reiner accepted. The embrace was tight, definitely longer than expected, and shrouded in an air of intimacy that smelled of high expectations. Bertholdt found himself wanting to stay in it longer, but Reiner was still cold, and he didn’t want to keep him from that warmth or his dog.

“I’ll see you tom—”

Reiner grabbed his hand and pecked the top. He clutched long fingers as if they could provide an answer for what he was feeling. There was no answer, Bertholdt feared, at least in the spot he was looking. And there never would be.

Bertholdt gave his answer in a kiss on the cheek. A gentle brush, quick enough to miss, soft and sweet. It reminded Bertholdt of the type of shenanigans that little kindergarteners pulled off on the playground. It was small, it was quick, and it was the first thing he could think of that would give them an answer on what he was.

Which, when he thought about it, did not sound very promising. Or good. Should he have asked before kissing him? He should have asked. Although the redness that Reiner suddenly had on his face was not there a second ago. And Bertholdt could feel his own cheeks blazing—

Oh.

“I’m going now!” He declared and zipped off to his car. He left Reiner standing on the doorstep, but the laughter that followed after him told him that he had done something good. Or at least he thought.

(He did—when he returned to his apartment, he found a text from Reiner saying how eager he was to return the kiss at their next date. There couldn’t be a sign greater than that.)

x-x-x

“Barnaby, no!”

The eager pooch stole a giant lick from his glass, and Bertholdt resigned himself with a sigh and let Barnaby lap up the rest of it. Reiner only gave him a teasing smirk. “You shouldn’t have insulted him earlier.”

“I did not insult him,” Bertholdt frowned. “He was going to jump over the puddle, and I knew he wasn’t going to make it.”

“You didn’t believe in him. That’s insulting.”

Bertholdt rolled his eyes and shoved Reiner’s shoulder, who only scooted closer, resting his head on his shoulder. Bertholdt returned the gesture, pressing a small kiss atop Reiner’s head. He hummed in response. “He’s a terrible third wheel.”

“I see him more of a wingman than a third wheel.”

“That’s because you’re biased.”

In protest, Reiner moved into Bertholdt’s lap despite the resigned protests of the taller. “I’m biased about a lot of things. Want me to list them?”

“Mm, start with Indiana Jones, and we’ll see where you land.”

“That was cold.”

Among kisses and soft laughs shared, surrounded by reminders of how different they were, it was nice to be with a like-minded companion—who just so happened to give great kisses. Reiner liked to add the last part, and Bertholdt, though confused as to how it fit, was not one to protest its truth.

[olivia-lovecraft]

Tea with Barnaby Pt. 1

[The following is an rp scene between Olivia and @draenei-barnaby. They spend the afternoon catching up until an infamous black envelope interrupts.]

Olivia was starting to spend a lot of time thinking on the subjects of love, family, and friends since the beginning of the year, and in doing so, she found herself thinking of friends with whom she had grown distant. It was never her intention to drift away from people, but life always seemed tumultuous so very suddenly, and things like social commitments fell through the cracks.

Tea with Barnaby, the man who had once saved her from bandits, was Olivia’s best attempt to make amends for the time that passed between them.

With respect to the Draenei’s enormous presence, Olivia spent the entire morning moving all unnecessary furniture out of her parlor. A few end tables, two chairs, and a pair of crates filled with research were all stashed in her spare room in preparation. Moving the sofa back a couple of feet, to give her guest more room to sit comfortably, took all the strength Olivia possessed, as well as more than a few attempts. In the end, though, the living room looked spacious enough to accommodate the man and his tail.

With an hour to spare, Olivia quickly freshened up, doing her hair and makeup before slipping into a casual green and ivory gown with an empress waist. She wore house shoes instead of her typical heeled footwear and whispered around the house to get everything out and just so. With a half hour before his intended arrival, Olivia put on a kettle and prepped the tea pot, choosing the pot meant to serve a large crowd, as she assumed Barnaby would drink more than a single small cup.

Finally, when there were no preparations left, Olivia retired to the sitting room to put on music and resume reading a book about the customs of ancient Troll tribes.

Barnaby was delighted at being invited to take tea at Olivia’s home in Stormwind. He rode his stocky horse, Dumpling, from his cabin in Redridge, through Elwynn Forest and into the bustling human city. Although Draenei were an uncommon sight, enough time had passed since they’d arrived on Azeroth that most of the city-going folk were acclimated to their presence. Still, the small children that pointed and gawked at his unusual appearance pleased him, his tail curling in pride.

When he knocked at Olivia’s door, she found him wearing a red flannel shirt and trousers and carrying a basket of covered food on one arm. He looked pleased to be there, his face radiating happiness. “Ah, Olivia! How good it is to see you again, you’re looking beautiful as ever!”

The draenei squeezed himself through the doorway and managed to get himself situated at Olivia’s table with a minimum of bumping into furniture. He set the large basket on the tabletop and uncovered it, taking out a savory-looking homemade meat pie and a loaf of flavorful homemade seed bread. “I thought I’d bring a few things for us to share over lunch.”

“I am so glad you could make it darling,” Olivia greeted with an equally radiant smile.

As Barnaby entered and made himself at home, the small woman went back to the icebox to take out a spring salad with small edible blooms sprinkled in it for color. With her free hand she took out a rustic looking plain cheesecake and balanced it on the top of the salad bowl so she could grab a bowl of mixed berries as well.

“I did not make the cheesecake, so it is not burnt in the slightest,” she assured her guest as she brought the cool items to the table. “I did make the salad and arranged the cheese board.”

Once those items were arranged, she went to see to the teapot.

“How are you? I hope the winter treated you well.”

With the addition of the spring salad, cheesecake, and berries, between them Olivia and Barny had assembled quite a delicious spread of food on the table. Barnaby started cutting the hot meat pie into sections.

He reflected on the past winter. “We had one or two large snowfalls... I had to do some repair work on the shed, and remove a couple trees that were felled by a windstorm. That’s nothing too unusual, though. The biggest news, was that I had a houseguest for a time.”

The draenei fell quiet for a moment. “It was an unusual case. A woman, the likes of which I’d never seen before. Calling herself a ‘roegadyn’... She said she’d gotten lost, and I had to help her find her way home, after a fashion.”

Barnaby looked as if he was daydreaming fondly for a moment, then shook his head and began to slice the loaf of bread. “Thankfully, it all worked out in the end. And yourself? I imagine snowfall is quite picturesque in the city.”

With her back turned to Barnaby, he wouldn’t see her furrowed brow nor her silent attempt at saying the word ‘roegadyn’. There was no way she could know what the woman was, but she also believed it would be rude to pry, so instead the word was stored away with minimal context.

“Oh, the city is lovely with fresh snow. It quickly turns grey with the traffic and smoke, but it is lovely while it falls,” Olivia replied wistfully as she returned to the table with the tray of tea, cream, and sugar. “However, I spent this past winter in Drustvar. It is equally beautiful in the snow, more so, perhaps, because there are these great ribbons of light in the sky at night. It was a breathtaking sight, as I wasn’t exactly enjoying a vacation. I was conscripted by the military to help with research into the witches there. It turned into quite the eventful winter and I am relieved to be back in Stormwind.”

Olivia poured tea for them both and smiled at the large man. He was a lovely, comforting presence and she hadn’t realized how much she missed having purely social engagements with kind souls.

“That pie smells amazing. Is it game or livestock?” She transitioned upon realizing she was starting to stare.

Barnaby looked up at the mention of Drustvar. “The Kul Tiran island, then?” He listened to the rest of Olivia’s story with interest. He’d heard of the island, but never gone to see it himself. He recognized her description of the aurora, but only because he’d seen them before in Northrend. That had been a nightmarish place. He wondered if Olivia’s experience with these Kul Tiran “witches” had been similarly haunting… and dangerous.

The thought of Olivia being in even the remotest danger caused his brows to furrow. He chose that moment to take tea, reminding himself that Olivia had surely taken adequate precautions.

“Were they hospitable to you - The Kul Tirans, I mean?” he asked, curiously. At the question about his pie, Barnaby sat back in his seat and smiled with pride. He hadn’t been certain Olivia would like meat pie. “It’s venison, I hunted it.”

“Yes, actually. The people I met were generally very friendly. They have their prejudices against mainlanders, but it surfaces more as a sort of superiority rather than blatant hostility,” Olivia replied, smiling with odd fondness. “I met a few rude individuals, but you’ll have that anywhere, I imagine.”

She put a few things on her plate after accepting a piece of the meat pie and settled in with her napkin on her lap.

“Venison is my favorite. I wanted to be a huntsman when I was little so that I could eat as much venison as I wanted. I just always liked it,” she commented with a grin.

Olivia cut a bit from the pie and chewed thoughtfully. The hum of approval was immediate, and she nodded as she finished chewing and swallowing the bite.

“This is delicious, darling. Truly. It reminds me of meals I had when I was younger.”

She reached out and grasped at the air subtly, as if she were reaching for a stemmed glass rather than her teacup. The gesture was corrected, hopefully before he noticed, and she took a sip of tea wishing it was wine.

If Barnaby noticed Olivia making a curious hand gesture as she grasped for a wine glass that wasn’t there, he didn’t show it. Rather, he only seemed to grow more pleased at being praised for his cooking. His grin became smug, his sideburns fluffed out extra fluffily, and he made a pleased sound low in his throat. “You are too kind, Miss Olivia. I’ll remember to make it more often, now that I know you enjoy it.”

His smile took on a decidedly roguish bent when Olivia answered that she’d met a few rude Kul Tirans, despite an overall pleasant experience. “Perhaps I should accompany you next time. Then they will think twice about being anything less than perfect gentlemen.”

A peal of delighted laughter overtook Olivia, and she quickly nodded along with his suggestion.

"I have no doubt in my mind that you would inspire manners in your very wake," she beamed.

However, the expression wavered and was replace with something a bit more pensive. She considered the makeup of the Alliance military and those travelers she saw. There were so few Draenei in Boralus, but there were Lightforged Bulwarks outside of Arom’s Stand, erected to hold back the attacks from the Horde.

“You know, my cousin, a native Kul Tiran, he still hasn’t met a Draenei. There were some of the Lightforged in Arom’s Stand, so he has seen your kind, but has never met you. I do not know what reception your people received in Kul Tiras, but I do hope they remembered their manners. Isolationism can warp the way people see outsiders of any kind.”

It was a somber thought, and one she wouldn’t dwell upon. She would let Barnaby have his say before renewing her smile and moving onto something lighter.

“But, if you like seafood, I have found no other place with such variety as Boralus city.”

Barnaby paused his enjoyment of their delicious lunch to listen to what Olivia was saying. A cousin! This was the first time he could recall her mentioning her family, and as such, he paid close attention. “You have a cousin who is Kul Tiran? I take it you met him when you journeyed there with the army?” He took a big bite of the buttered bread. “...How did it go?” It was possible she had never met him in person before, or if she had, it could have been a long time ago.

At the mention of Boralus’s variety of seafood, his smile became huge. “It’s settled, I’ll have to make a trip out.”

"It was a little tenuous, at first,” Olivia admitted. “Only because I was raised to believe my mother’s side of the family suffered great losses in a conflict. That my mother had only a sister, my Aunt Marian. However, by fate, I discovered some of my mother’s siblings survived the conflict and went on to marry into a strong family that kept them safe. So, I have met a few cousins actually. Some of them are twice removed, but no matter the case, it is a strange thing to have family when I thought I had none.”

She dipped a piece of the bread into some of the gravy that was escaping the meat pie and ate quietly a moment, smiling at the thought of her found family.

“I highly recommend it. The people of Kul Tiras are larger folk, on average, so their accommodations will likely be more comfortable than a human or elven inn,” she grinned. “I know my own room, the one I rent there while visiting family and friends, has a bed that at last five more of me could sleep in.”

Barnaby listened to Olivia’s story about her family as he ate. He found he could imagine the way she was feeling. He’d lost his own family during the tumults on Draenor, when he had been a boy. He’d been young enough that he didn’t remember much of his parents - only flitting visions that came to him during moments of subconscious, such as in dreams. Now and again, he found himself wondering if any of his biological family had survived. How would he, now an adult, connect with possible siblings, or other family members, he might not have seen since he was a child?

“It’s a blessing, I think... Even if we cannot immediately see it as such,” he murmured. “To learn of family we didn’t know about.”

Barnaby blinked in surprise to learn that the Kul Tirans were “larger” folk. That was something that had escaped his notice until now. He wondered how tall they were. Were they draenei-sized? The thought both unsettled and intrigued him. Would that mean he wouldn’t automatically be able to intimidate a Kil Tiran? He’d gotten rather used to being the tallest man in his circle of acquaintances and friends. “Are they, now. How… interesting.”

“They are indeed,” Olivia nodded with a soft giggle. “Of course, I am not the greatest judge of height when almost everyone short of gnomes are taller than me. I can’t imagine they are as tall as you, but perhaps their furniture and doorways will be more comfortable.”

She shrugged a bit and laughed, still amused at her own realization. Everyone was larger than her.

“If you visit, let me know. I could act as your guide, and perhaps we could just get lost together. Oh! Actually, you’d be a brilliant help with the hedge maze, I imagine. You could probably see right over the hedges. There is a tavern at the end of the maze that I have yet to find.”

Barnaby seemed somewhat settled by Olivia’s reassurance that the Kul Tirans were not, in fact, likely to be taller than he was, but the doorways and chairs would be more comfortable for him. He nodded and returned to the important business of putting meat pie and salad into his mouth.

He looked delighted at the idea of visiting Kul Tiras casually with Olivia. At least, until she mentioned the tavern at the end of a hedge maze. “Who would be so cruel as to put a tavern at the end of a hedge maze?” he questioned, brows furrowed. He apparently thought this a serious question. “But yes, I think I would enjoy visiting Kul Tiras with you sometime, Olivia.”

"It is rather cruel, isn't it?" Olivia tittered. "Especially if one were to imbibe too heavily and find themselves lost in the maze. I imagine--"

Her sentence was interrupted when the mail slot opened, and a black envelope dropped into the catch basket.

[ To be continued...here. ]