#i have many thoughts on how he and ellise differ

[nightingaletrash]

more Alain. I changed him over to being a mage for funsies <3

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist

⟡ featuring: suna, oikawa, tsukishima, atsumu

⟡ cw: angst, idk still bad at these

⟡ an: i found my old breakup playlist from three years ago and took inspiration from that so these songs are old lol. writing this was silly because im in a loving relationship but it was like i felt all the pain of a breakup again </3

⟡ part two, part three

⟡ suna rintarou: you broke me first - tate mcrae

suna would be the one to break things off with you. when you first started dating he genuinely thought he loved you but as time went on and he became more distant, you started to feel like he was losing feelings for you so you asked him about it. in his words, "i think you were just the first girl to give me attention after my last relationship" and "im not ready for a relationship". a week later, he starts talking about all the girls that have come to him after the breakup and started talking about his hookups to you. this bothered you and hurt you deeply so you decided to cut things off with him completely and he was not a fan of this. so he tried everything to try to get you to talk to him again saying that he misses you and that he wants to get back together. you couldn't care less though, he's already broken your heart too many times for you not to notice his pattern of wanting your attention just to make you jealous or upset. in the end, it actually did end up hurting him and made him realize what he lost. he knew he fucked up but there's no going back anymore.

⟡ oikawa tooru: over breakfast - ellise

it's been a few months since oikawa left for argentina. it's been hard for the both of to be apart for so long and in completely different timezones. you could feel the connection fading but neither of you wanted to admit it because you both loved each other so much. but the longer you guys try to keep the relationship afloat, the more frequent you end up arguing over text or facetime. but you both decided that it could be something to figure out when oikawa visits for the holidays. well, the holidays come around and you finally have time to see each other and talk in person. from the moment oikawa entered your apartment, you both knew it was over. you could tell so many things have changed over the course of the last few months but instead of facing it, you just decide to spend one more night together just to have one final time to say that you tried. it was bittersweet and it hurt a lot but you didn't want the night to end. maybe you could fix this over night? in the morning everything will be better and you can set aside your differences! unfortunately, that morning, nothing had changed and you and oikawa finally came to terms with the fact that maybe you two just maybe weren't meant to be.

⟡ tsukishima kei: high definition - waterparks

when tsukishima was still part of the sendai frogs, he traveled a lot. it's not like he was off in another country like some of his old teammates and rivals, no, you lived with him. even though you two had been dating for quite some time by this point, tsukishima still had trouble expressing his love for you. he tended to push you away whenever he was stressed even though the one thing he wanted the most was your comfort and loving. he was just worried he would end up snapping at you and making you hate him. he didn't know that you'd end up upset with him regardless. you loved him so much but you don't know how long you could going on like this. i mean come on! tsukishima was always away for volleyball matches and even when he's home...it's like he's still not even there. tsukishima knew that you were starting to slip away from him so one day he sat you down and explained how he was feeling and it was finally then that you understood why he acted the way he did. you tried protesting his decision to break up with you but he kept insisting it was for the better. by the next week tsukishima had moved out leaving you alone in the once shared apartment, wishing and hoping he'd come back one day.

⟡ miya atsumu: better off - ariana grande

everyone knew that atsumu could be hot headed most of the time when it came to volleyball but what they didn't know is that it would sometimes affect your relationship with him. much like tsukishima, he would close himself off from you whenever he was mad at the world or whatever else there is that could make him upset. it was starting to get tiring for you. you felt like you had to walk on egg shells around him just so he wouldn't snap at you (wether he meant to or not- his mind would always fog up). towards the end of your relationship, you could feel yourself start to get numb in regards to your feelings towards atsumu. atsumu couldn't really tell at this point that you were losing hope for the relationship. if anything he thought everything was normal but that was only because half of the time he was too much into his own thoughts to notice any flaws between the two of you. it wasn't until he came home one day after an away game on the other side of japan and found that all of your stuff was gone along with you, that he realized nothing is what it used to be. he found a note from you that explained that you weren't happy in the relationship anymore and that you felt trapped. you also stated that you hope he figures out his issues and that you'll always be there for him if he needs but that right now you just needed space. atsumu spent that night crying and angry at himself for letting your relationship get to this point.

[starlitangels]

The Person I Was (The Person I Am)

I’ve been wanting to write some Gavin, recently. Just didn’t know what until this morning. 1.8k words

—

“Gavin is a name that I chose for myself. When I first coalesced, in the Ellision Well, I bore the name... Vindemiator,” Gavin said. He wasn’t looking at me as he said it. He was staring at his reflection in the screen of my small, turned-off TV. He fidgeted a little.

It occurred to me, right in that moment, that he’d probably never told anyone that before. Not anyone human, anyway. I imagined the daemons and demons he’d known before who knew him as Vindemiator would probably have been told. But the humans—the ones he had flings with over who-knew-how-many years to survive? I doubted he ever would have told them. He’d told me before, the morning after that first night we slept together, that he didn’t stay. So why bother opening up to people he’d bed and then leave?

He probably didn’t even want to tell me. Not when we first met, anyway. But now, I’d asked. I’d asked about his home—the magical plane. And we’d been seeing more of each other than he probably ever saw of any one human before. So he’d opened up a little.

I wanted to show him that I respected and appreciated his willingness to do that. We’d started off... rocky. An aggressively forward flirt with too many innuendos and... me. The little loner, as he’d called me that second time we met. He’d apologized for the condescension, but he wasn’t wrong. I’d been alone for a long time. After my powers manifested, I slowly withdrew from my normal life.

Then I met Caelum. And three years later, he convinced me to move to Dahlia after I told my parents about my powers and they flipped their lids.

So I moved to an unfamiliar city, alone. Searching for some academy from Caelum’s delightfully vague directions.

And met Gavin, in that 7/11. The first person I’d run into whose magic I could feel. It had been awkward, to say the least, but at the time I’d been sick of wandering the city trying to figure out where the damn academy was. Before I even knew its acronym. And I’d shoved down my discomfort at what I was interrupting and went to ask for directions.

I never would have imagined I’d be here now. I never imagined we would be here now. Or that there even would be a we. I’d hoped to make friends, but did not expect a lover—or that lover to be a demon.

A demon who was, despite all evidence suggesting he never would, opening up to me.

And, despite the rocky start, I found myself lowering my walls to him, too.

Gavin met my eyes again. “But he’s... someone else,” he said. “Gavin is who I am, now.”

I knew that feeling. Probably too well. I felt like I’d been three different people over the course of my life. The normal unempowered child, blissfully ignorant of the wide world of magic, hiding just around the corner. The terrified adolescent, who spent years suppressing and hiding powers I couldn’t control or harness, wishing I could go back to the life I’d had—the child I’d been. And, now, the Freelancer. An adult with a promising future and a new lease on life. Powers I never could have imagined. Friends who made me happy. A little daemon who warmed my heart. And... a lover, that I could feel myself falling for. We were toying with each other right now, but there was genuine feeling behind our interactions.

I’d spent so many years wanting to be the person I was as an unempowered child that I never even considered the idea that life would be so much better when I accepted who I was—and what I could do.

I held Gavin’s gaze. We were more alike than I’d initially thought.

—

One Year Later...

—

Gavin’s fingers tracing gentle patterns on my bare shoulder roused me from sleep. I took a deep breath and snuggled closer against him, barely even aware I was doing it. He was warm in the cool morning air and my subconscious clung to the comforting heat. “Nice to see you’re awake, deviant,” Gavin said.

“You been up for long?” I mumbled sleepily.

He chuckled. “A few minutes,” he replied. “Long enough to take in this... pretty face of yours...” He stroked the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “And this... incredible body...” His fingertips on my shoulder dug in a little deeper.

“I love you,” I said.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you too, Freelancer.” He traced a circle around the curve of my shoulder. “Are you alright, after last night?”

I smiled. “I’m fine. I’m tougher than I look. Little achy, but otherwise fine.”

His fingertips slid up the back of my neck. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “I never want to hurt you.”

“I know, Gavin. And I trust you not to.” I knew he could feel my emotions. I knew he could tell I was being sincere when I said it. He reached around with his other arm and held me closer to him. Our skin was slightly sweaty, so we were kind of stuck together. It was not going to be pleasant to unstick ourselves when it was time to get up.

“Never.”

From somewhere in the room, I heard my phone go off. A text tone, but not my usual one. Gavin and I both scrunched our eyebrows.

Gavin waved his hand and my jeans floated off the floor, my phone sliding out of the pocket and shooting toward us. He caught it and handed it to me. I scrambled to try and get the screen to turn on—because it was just my luck that it didn’t want to light up on its own and my fingers kept slipping off the buttons. I swore as I tried to unlock it.

I swore louder as the screen finally lit up.

“What is it, deviant? Why was the tone different.”

“I forgot that I personalized the ring and text tones for my... blood relatives,” I said. Not my family. Not anymore. My family was here in Dahlia. A trio of quirky Elementals, a daemon, and a demon. “To warn me it was any of them before I even saw.”

“What are they saying, if I may ask?”

I read the long text again. “They... my relatives are inviting me home.” It wasn’t the first time I got texts like this. Around some of the major holidays, I got one. Usually I turned them down or ignored the texts.

“Do you want to go?” Gavin asked. His grip around my shoulders tightened protectively as my breathing sped up.

“No! Maybe? I don’t know,” I admitted. “Usually I get a text asking if I’m coming home for a holiday. This... this is a wedding. Some cousin I barely remember.” I shook my head. “This text isn’t from my parents. It’s from that cousin’s mom. Asking if I’m planning on coming home for the wedding so they know to account for me. Apparently, I can bring a plus-one.”

Gavin lowered his eyebrows. “A what?”

“A plus-one. It means my invitation is accounting for two people, instead of just me. I can bring a date.”

An absolutely wicked smirk danced on Gavin’s face. He started to laugh. “Oh—oh that’s delicious,” he said.

“Gavin,” I warned, “what are you thinking?”

“Your parents didn’t accept you for your magic, right?” he said, the levity gone but something still amusing him. I nodded tightly. He shrugged. “How hilarious will it be to stick it to them by introducing them to your boyfriend whose every cell is made of magic.”

“You’re saying I should go home to spite them. Show them that despite everything they said about me, I’m happy.”

“Your words, not mine, deviant.”

Gavin was right. The thought was delicious. There was something satisfying in the spite.

“I don’t know, Gavin,” I muttered, shaking my head.

All the amusement vanished from Gavin’s expression like candle smoke in front of a high-powered fan. “What’s the matter, deviant.”

“It’s not just the magic,” I said, “I’m not the same person, anymore.” I cleared my throat and met his gaze. “Remember when you told me that Vindemiator is someone else?”

It was his turn to nod tightly.

“Well, the person I was back then is not the person I am now. My personality has always been... empathetic. Caring. Driven. But... after my powers manifested, I retreated into myself. Tried to hide so no one would notice the weird things happening around me. I’ve been three different people over the course of my life. The child, the scared teenager, and the Freelancer. The adult. I’m not going to walk into that wedding as the person any of them remember if I go. With you, or not.”

“All the more reason to go. Let everyone who hurt you see that nothing they did had any hold on you.”

I sighed.

Gavin pinched my chin and raised it so our eyes met. “But,” he added in that slow, relaxed way of his, “if you say you don’t want to go, I won’t push it. Just because they’re relatives doesn’t mean they get a free pass to forgiveness.” I had a feeling there was some personal experience behind those words. He’d told me before that he didn’t get along with his kin—the other incubi and succubi. I wondered for a brief second what they’d done to him. If that was why he was such a good fighter—I’d seen him face off against Vega, and he’d held his own with confidence. I hoped that was from training, not necessity.

“I know,” I said.

“But let me ask you one thing, if you never saw them again, would you be satisfied? Or do you want one last shot to speak your piece and get some decent closure? Whichever you choose, my love, I’ll stand behind you.” He put gentle emphasis on love. Reminding me, as he was wont to do, that I was his and he was mine. That we’d found each other and loved each other.

I took a deep breath. “I’ll go to the damn wedding. But you’re coming with me.”

That wicked smile returned. “Delightful,” he said, savoring the word on his tongue as certainly as he savored the thought of spiting my parents. “Well, I guess this means we should find something appropriate to wear to a wedding.”

“Guess so. I’ll text my relatives back.”

Gavin’s fingers on the back of my neck tensed, bringing me closer. We shared a kiss. He smelled so good. Felt so good.

It was going to be great to let him meet my parents.

[edie-baby]

mr & mrs | liam lawson x reader

Summary: You and Liam were teammates at Hitech for 2021. You had the biggest crush on him, but you were sure he didn't see you as anything more than a little sister. But oh, how a few basic questions could uncover the truth between you.

Warnings: swearing, and I think that's it?

When you walked into work in the Hitech Grand Prix building this morning, you didn’t expect to be playing the fucking newlywed game with your crush. And if you’re being honest with yourself, crush is a light way to put it. You were head over heels for your F2 teammate and best friend, Liam Lawson. There was just something about the New Zealander that always had your heart racing, your legs buckling, and your stomach dropping.

So when you were directed into the garage for a ‘different background’ from other videos you had done with Liam, your stomach lurched. Here this gorgeous man was, in all his Kiwi glory, hair waxed back but falling out of place, jeans hugging the toned curves of his legs and ass and giving you a glorious view of his bulge, and the fucking blue sweater. The same blue sweater he had worn the last time the two of you did a video that had reduced you to a stuttering mess when you first saw him.

But now it is worse. So, so much worse. He was standing in a garage. Around cars, and tyres, and grease, and all of the inanimate objects you found so sinfully appealing, and he was just right in the middle of it looking like that. You just about turned around and walked right back out.

“Mighty Mouse! There you are. I was starting to think I’d have to be the brains and beauty of the operation.” Liam called once he spotted you, and suddenly you remembered why you had never tried making a move on him. He treated you like a little sister. Nicknames like ‘kiddo’ and ‘mighty mouse’ were a regular occurrence, and they never failed to make you squirm.

“Well, you struggle to be anything but the brawn, and I think I’m even starting to overtake you there.” You teased, pushing yourself to stay casual, platonic, familial. There was so much opportunity to flirt with him, but the few times you had tried were brushed off, so you had given up many moons ago.

“Ouch Princess, that hurts.” Liam mocked, his hand cradling his chest and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would be to fall asleep against his chest, curled up after a rough night of-

“Who’re you calling princess, princess?” You shot back, cutting your thoughts off before they continued developing and became an issue. Liam laughed, his arm slung around your shoulder while the two of you walked over to the team that were in charge of running your activity for the afternoon.

“Ok, I don’t know if you guys have heard of it, but this game is called Mr and Mrs, one of you will have a whiteboard and wear headphones while the other tries to guess what the answers to the questions you’re writing down are. Make sense? Ok, great, let’s do an intro and go from there.” One of the guys explained quickly, and you began having flashbacks to an awful 80s game show called The Newlywed Game, and blushed profusely. Having you and Liam in a video titled ‘Mr & Mrs’ was sure to get the fans going, and you couldn’t blame Hitech’s PR plan.

You and Liam settled into the wheely chairs from the office next door, Liam positioning himself in frame of the camera and fixing his stupidly perfect hair when you came barreling toward him with your chair, legs tucked up high so you didn’t cop a chair arm to the knee. Liam screeched when you finally hit him, almost toppling off the chair in surprise while you spun slowly, laughing freely as you did so.

Liam looked over at you, your head thrown back in carefree laughter, the yellow sundress that covered your body made you look radiant, and he was sure he had never seen a sight so beautiful before. Your laughter calmed down, and as you looked over at him, he couldn’t help but send you a lovestruck smile, his eyes dopey with admiration. You blushed slightly, laughing as the team asked if you could do the intro again, but actually introduce what you were doing.

Liam slid out of the frame, and you followed his movements as you could tell a fierce battle was about to commence. Kicking off the ground with force, you tucked your legs up onto the chair again, spinning into Liam so fast, you couldn’t actually see his face before you crashed into him. The two of you exploded in laughter again, laughter and smiles were common between you, and Hitech’s Instagram was full of photos and videos of you and Liam smiling at each other, or doubled over in laughter, clutching onto each other.

“Hi, I’m Liam Lawson, and this is Y/N, we drive for Hitech in Formula 2.” Liam began once you had slowed down your laughter. He kept a firm grip on the arm of your chair, holding you close and still, as your chair really liked spinning around.

“And we’re here to play Mr & Mrs, another game in our long series championship to see who the better teammate is.” You finished, gesturing to yourself subtly, but Liam caught it and pushed your chair away jokingly. As much as you loved the man and wished you could be more, you wouldn’t give up this relationship you have with him for something that might work.

MR & MRS | EDIE-BABY

“Liam, what is Y/N’s favourite colour?” The same guy from before asked, one who Liam still didn’t recognise due to the facemask and hat he was wearing. Nevertheless, he held up a whiteboard where the question was scribbled in messy writing, three multiple choice answers written waiting for not only Liam’s, but also your answer. You had airpods in your ears, connected to the blaring music playing from one of the Hitech employees’ laptops, a whiteboard in your hand that you quickly scribbled out an answer to.

Liam looked over at you, holding the whiteboard to your chest protectively so he wouldn’t cheat, but there was really no way that he could.

“It’s not an answer listed here, but her favourite colour is a light brown. She always says it calms her down because it reminds her of a cafe she went to once back home.” Liam spoke, watching you as he answered. You didn’t hear a word he was saying, bopping your head along to the 2000s hits pumping through the earphones. Liam pulled one of them out, his head nodding over to the camera while you proudly turned the board around, thinking you had gotten one over on Liam.

“My favourite colour is light brown, because it reminds me of the Brew Cafe in my hometown, and it brings a really nostalgic and calm feeling.” You stated, watching the faces of the employees morph from business to shock. You looked over at Liam, who had a smug smile on his face while he listened to your answer.

“There’s no way you could have known that!” You protested, glaring accusingly at the dirty blonde. He laughed in response, and you couldn’t have felt happier in any given moment. Not even the top step of the podium could compare to the warmth spreading in your chest. Little did you know, Liam was feeling the exact same way.

“Y/N earphones back in, Liam your next question. What is Y/N’s favourite song at the moment?” The same guy asked, yet this time there were no multiple choice answers. Liam’s eyes widened, turning to look at you to think of any songs he had heard blasting from your speakers or earphones recently, or something that you had ranted excitedly to him about. He spoke to himself, mumbling about artists and songs he could remember falling from your lips. You twirled a piece of hair around your finger, thinking about the answer to the question, when suddenly it hit him.

He had to wait a few moments as you were slowly writing down your answer, still not 100% sure of yourself. It was only after you had taken an earphone out that you jumped, furiously rubbing out the answer on the whiteboard and writing a new one, looking much more satisfied with the new answer. The team counted down, and as Liam spoke, you almost dropped the whiteboard.

“Feeling Something Bad by Ellise. She’ll start singing it randomly when she concentrates, which is usually a giveaway to what songs she's been listening to recently.” Liam said his answer so confidently that it made you feel as though you were inferior because he knew your favourite song and it took you a decent minute to think of it. Liam got another point as he had gotten two of your answers right, and you were starting to feel competitive.

“Alright Liam, who does Y/N get along with best in the F2 paddock? Oscar Piastri, Dan Ticktum, or you?”

“Oh, oh. Well, she hangs out with Oscar a lot, but I don’t know if she would say they get along better than we do? Like, she’s closer with Oscar but we get along best, if that makes sense? I don’t think it does. I’m gonna say Oscar because I don’t want to be rejected, but I really hope I’m wrong and that she says me.” Liam rambled, finally deciding on Oscar, and when you were told to turn your board around, Liam’s heart sank a little. You had written Oscar, and as you began trying to defend yourself, Liam waved it off and laughed to hide the disappointment in his eyes, but you could see it clear as day. You tried to move on like he did, to keep playing the game like you didn’t hurt her best friend and crush.

You began trying to cheer the Kiwi up, dancing along to the songs playing, and occasionally belting out the chorus. He was laughing along, finally joining you to sing when you were screaming the lyrics to Promiscuous, dancing all around the garage and trying to pull him up around with you. While you were dancing with some of the employees off camera, being recorded for Instagram, Liam was still in frame of the main camera, a fond smile on his face, and anyone who had looked at him could see that he was completely and utterly whipped for you, but you were too caught up in Nelly Furtado to see it yourself.

It was your turn to answer questions now, passing Liam the whiteboard that had a little love note written on it.

I’m going to crush you.

You wrote, and Liam thought it was adorable how competitive you got in trivial games like this, but it always made him try even harder just to give you some semblance of a battle.

“Y/N! How old was Liam when he started karting?” The guy you had begun to think was not an actual Hitech employee asked. The three ages to choose from scribbled on the whiteboard. You studied them for a moment, and could see Liam in the corner of your eye writing out his own answer.

“He was seven, because I remember him telling me that there’s regulations in New Zealand that you can’t race go-karts competitively until you’re seven and then won the race.” You explained, remembering the story he had told you easily, it was one of your favourites, purely because of the joy on Liam’s face when he recounted it.

He turned the board around, showing the exact answer you had given, and he gave you a cheeky smile in response to your silent gloating about getting a point. There was nothing cuter in his eyes than you getting so worked up about a game.

“What is Liam’s pre-race superstition?” Before the board with the question and possible answers came up, your mouth blurted out the answer you already knew all too well.

“He gets in the car from the left.” You practically yelled, and Liam looked at you with wide eyes, not hearing your words but seeing the excitement at knowing the answer.

“How did you know that?” One of the Hitech PR asked as her main priority was to stir up more rumours about the two of you, as it was always good for the team’s press.

“Because I’m just as superstitious about getting in from the right side, so when he found out, he asked the team if we could switch around how our cars are placed in the garage so that we could meet in the middle, do our little ritual, and then get in the car from there.” You explained, watching as Liam wrote down his answer with no idea of the words you were saying.

When Liam turned the board around, he explained the exact same story you had, and you giggled when he finished, showing off a proud smile before putting the pieces together that you had already run the same spiel.

“It’s quite cute that the two of you explain things using basically the same words.” That same PR lady stated. And you almost rolled your eyes, almost. But you caught Liam blushing slightly, and a small, stupid part of you began jumping up and down, because not only did someone think your relationship with Liam was cute, but he blushed at that.

“It happens when you spend so much time with someone. I’ve started picking up Kiwi slang, and he’s learning some of my slang. You don’t realise it until you say something to someone when he’s not there and they’ve got no idea what I mean. It’s so normal for Liam to always be by my side, and me by his that when I’m with other people it feels weird.” You started on a ramble, something you were known for. And then just would… not… fucking… stop. The press officer looked satisfied, but as you had finally gotten your mouth to stop moving, you were scared to look over at Liam.

“Whenever she’s not within arm’s reach, I feel like I’m missing something.” Liam spoke quietly, and you gulped as you heard his words. The man was going to kill you, surely. This little production crew didn’t give a shit about your blossoming romance though, as they hurried you through to the next questions. You and Liam barely looked at eachother, your answers shorter and much more vague than they were before. You just wanted to get out of this chair and go freak out in an empty office somewhere.

“Well, the winner of this round is Liam, which means he has officially overtaken Y/N in the Hitech championship. How do you guys feel about this one?” The producers asked. You would usually have felt a bit of a blow to your chest finding out you had been beaten in two ways, but you truly couldn’t think of anything except your proximity to Liam.

“I think we found out a lot, and I’m glad to finally be ahead in the championship. I think it’s the only time I’ll ever be able to beat Mighty Mouse in anything.” Liam chuckled, reverting back to your ‘little sister’ nickname because he felt like the distance would help him process his emotions.

“Hey, you already beat me in height, age, and supercar experience, you gotta let me have something.” You whined, you looked over at Liam with a pout and puppy eyes, unintentionally making his heart pound out of his chest.

“Well you’re the cuter one of the team, and you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me, so I’d say you’re winning enough. Plus you’re higher up in the drivers standings than me.” Liam replied, leaning closer to stare into your eyes, barely two inches between your faces, you blinked slowly, afraid that any sudden movements would scare him away.

His large hand reached up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, then coming to rest at the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your jaw.

“I don’t think you realise what you do to me.” You mumbled, leaning forward very slightly to nudge your nose against Liam’s. His breath hitched, eyes boring into your soul in a way that made you freeze.

“It can’t be any worse than what you do to me. Looking as beautiful as you do, all I want to do is hold you, keep you close, show you off to the world, and I want to call you mine. I want to take you home and show you around my hometown, I want to introduce you to my parents, to take you to parties with my friends, I want to curl up in your apartment watching Harry Potter movies, and I want to dance around the kitchen with you at 2 in the morning making pancakes. I want to live my life with you.” Liam confessed, and for a few moments, you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

You lurched forward, balling your fists up in that stupid blue sweater and pulling him closer. Liam’s eyes closed instinctively as your lips met, the coconut lip balm you applied before you came into the office was shared on your tongues, Liam’s exploring your mouth with vigor. You had never imagined him to be this passionate, this intense. But you had no complaints, his hands tugging you forward until you fell onto his lap, legs slotting in beside his own to straddle him on the wheely chair.

You broke away for a moment to catch your breath, eyes surveying every square inch of Liam’s face to commit it to memory. He truly was a gorgeous man, and you hoped you would get to see him like this many more times to come. He caught the look in your eyes and dove back into your lips, his teeth capturing your bottom lip in a bruising grip, a whimper escaping your lips before someone clearing their throat interrupted you.

“I guess we have everything we need for the video. Thanks you two.”

[kinghoranshit]

Just Another Normal Story (HS) - PT 5 (Finale)

I pulled the trigger and knocked down another zombie. I laughed watching her just fall to the ground. It’d become way too easy. 

“Harmony won’t go down,” Harry huffed. 

I looked up at Harry from a kneeled down position on the porch. Harry, dad, and I each have patrols during the day to keep them somewhat under control; we let my mom watch Harmony, she had a gun if she needed to shoot any that happened to make it inside. Sometimes we didn’t have any at all. But we definitely never go out at night. It was hard to see them. I wouldn’t say my fear was completely gone. I still couldn't handle them in the dark. 

“Okay, I’ll get her. Here, keep watch.” I handed him the crossbow.

“But I don’t like the crossbow,” Harry muttered. 

I rolled my eyes. “Well it’s the only weapon out here. Use it if needed.” I ran out onto the lawn. I hadn’t been watching my back completely. 

As I yanked the metal arrow out of some little girl’s head, I felt strong teeth bite into my shoulder. They did little damage because of the heavy army jacket. It still hurt though; it was like a large boulder crushing your bones.

“You bitch!” I turned around to punch the athletic looking girl. It was after I fought with her, snapping her neck, and then punctured her head with one of my arrows that I realized it was Ellise. Then I gasped, looking back at the little girl. Lela, Ellise and John’s daughter. 

Fuck me. I had never killed any zombie that I knew. Let alone my own niece. I had been blinded. If I had known, I probably wouldn’t have pulled the trigger in the first place. 

My heart thumped in my chest as I looked around. Oh God. No. Not John. Please no. The cat-like call sounded and I looked over to see John-- paled, eyes glossy grey, brown hair faded, and veins blue as the sea.

How’d they even get here? It was a far trek to make when human. I couldn’t imagine the painfully slow steps. 

“Home,” I heard a voice rasp.

It wasn’t me. And I knew it wasn’t Harry. Wait. 

“John?” I asked. 

He advanced towards me but I couldn’t do anything. Not my own brother. I already felt sick to my stomach about Ellise and Lela. 

An arrow shot into his arm and he looked at it, then pulled it out. Not fazed at all. He was different than the others; possibly in a good way. And man Harry was a terrible shot with the crossbow. 

“Nik-...ki,” John rasped and reached out to touch my face.

“Get away from her!” Harry ordered, storming out onto the grass with a reloaded crossbow. 

“Harry, no! He’s not going to hurt me. He’s talking… Well only two words, but I understood him. Something’s different.” 

John grunted, looking down at Ellise and Lela. “S-Sorry… Lov-e you.” 

“Whoa,” Harry breathed, halting a foot away. Yet, he still held up the crossbow.

“John?” I asked. 

He grunted with a small nod. 

“Why aren’t you attacking? Ellise sure did.” 

“Tried… Tried to st-s-stop… her,” he replied. “K-killed… Le.”

This was so bizarre. 

“Inside?” I pointed to the house. I noticed two other zombies across the street in the neighbor's yard. They were smelling the air. It would only be two seconds for them to come running over here. I took some of Ellise’s brain matter to put on my face, then wiped a little on Harry’s.

That felt wrong on so many levels. I couldn’t stop myself from hurling to the side despite the lack of food today. My stomach clenched while my head felt like it would explode; the burning tears built up to the point two streams ran down my cheeks. The smell wasn’t that bad, had the time been pre-apocalypose, I definitely would’ve been gagging at it. 

“I’ll take care of them,” Harry informed, rubbing circles on my back with his free hand.

I wiped my mouth and cheeks as I straightened and made a small nod. The two of us stood there and watched Harry shoot them down, grab the arrows, and come back. Then I guided slightl wobbly John inside and locked the door behind us.

“Before you freak, he’s talking. Small phrases. He won’t attack,” I explained as I guided John into the living room. Even though I stated the last words, I rubbed some zombie blood on Harmony’s tiny forehead. It caused a small cry to leave her. I only picked her up and rocked her back and forth. 

“Talking?” My dad walked up to John to assess. He held his shotgun close to his side, clearly ready to do what was needed; regardless if it was John. 

“Dad,” John grunted, making a nod movement. An actual smirk crossed his face. “P-Packers… better-r.”

“How come he’s not attacking?” My mom furrowed her brows. 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because we’re family?” 

“Zombies don’t care about that. They only want to eat,” my dad remarked, still obviously suspicious.

John’s eyes went wide as he continued to look around. He looked a bit funny. Harry and I couldn’t stop the chuckles under our breaths. 

I shrugged once again. “I really don’t know. It’s a bit strange. Never thought we’d have like a Warm Bodies thing come in.” 

“You did with putting the zombie matter on yourself,” my mom corrected. 

I lightly rolled my eyes. “Sure. The weird thing is... Ellise did attack me. And it might have been because I killed Lela. I didn’t know it was her. I was just doing patrol.” 

“Fo-Forgive,” John breathed out, making us all gasp in surprise. 

“What the fuck?” Harry asked, pointing to him. 

“F-Fuck you man,” John retorted, which caused my mom to laugh hysterically. 

As weird as this was, it was kind of nice to have John around. Sort of. We still didn’t know where Leo was or how anyone else in the extended family was doing. We assumed the worst, which wasn’t that far off with John. 

I laid Harmony down for a nap. Her, more like Harry’s, green eyes looked up at me expectantly; that became apparent as she got older over the past months. 

“C’mon, Harm. Sleep. You need to,” I caressed. 

She still looked up at me as if I was an idiot. I sighed and began to think of a story I could tell to lull her asleep. I started it off with a girl in the land of happily ever after. Then she stumbled upon a cottage in the enchanted forest and found a magical rock that granted any wish desired. Eventually, she wished to marry a prince. At this point, a deep voice joined me and I looked back to smile at Harry. I happily let him finish the story with the girl marrying the dashing prince of her dreams; he was still a commoner of course. 

Her eyes got heavy and eventually closed. 

Harry wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my head. “I love you so much.” 

The smile was unstoppable. “I love you so much.”

These were the moments to look out for at any time; apocalypse or not. 

***

Zombies have been curing themselves… Finding loved ones… Small talk… and not attacking… Humans and cured zombies work together to kill those who cannot turn back. 

I gasped at what I heard the man said on the radio. Slowly, all of our defenses were coming back. And our zombie patrolling had been cut down. It looked like a ghost town outside with random carcasses disintegrating into the ground though. It would take more than us under this roof to get them all removed. The smell seemed like it would be permanent.  

“Hey John.” I looked over at a mostly human brother now. His skin and eyes reverted back to normal; other things like his hair or nails would take a lot more time, if they would regrow at all. His speech was still slow. 

He grunted in place of asking ‘yeah?’ 

I rolled my eyes. “Did you ever see Leo?” I hoped every day since we came across John that Leo would somehow show up. If it happened to be the same way, we would make it work. 

“No.” He shook his head. It made my heart drop. 

“Okay.” I gave him a small smile.   

A rapping noise filled my ears and everyone in the living room shot each other questioning looks. Harry stood, picking up his shotgun on his way to the front door. I stood up myself and went to go stand by the stairway. He peeked out the peephole, then he looked back at me in pure shock. “It’s Leo.” 

My eyes went wide. I ran to jump onto Harry’s back so I could look out the peephole. There Leo was. He finally got to us. I slid down Harry’s back and unlocked the front door. As I finally got it open, I saw a zombie coming up behind Leo. 

Harry was quick to fire, cutting it close; the bullet zipped past Leo’s ear and went into the zombie’s forehead. It was a one and two count fall. 

“Holy shit!” Leo exclaimed. 

I smirked. “Bye bye zombie.”

I pulled Leo into the house, then into a hug. I let Harry take care of the door as I ushered Leo into the living room. 

“Look who finally decided to show up,” I announced. 

Everyone erupted into cheers and Leo was greeted with hugs. 

I looked back at Harry as he joined us. He walked over to me and encased me in his arms.

“Thanks.” I kissed his bicep. I watched as the other four caught up. Leo was making dramatic motions, which meant he was most likely telling his story of how he got here. I overheard the fact he’d traveled with a few other strangers and there was no way he would’ve made it without them. They didn’t have a lot of weapons at first so they had to risk raiding stores.

“Hey,” Harry whispered into my ear. “How about we go join them?”

A small smile crossed my face as I turned around to pull him into the living room.

Honestly, I was fairly content right now. As far as we knew, this whole zombie apocalypse could be over soon. And everything could go back to somewhat normal. Harry and I could change our full focus to Harmony. We would have to deal with Lela and Ellise’s rotting corpses on the front once offically safe though. It only felt morally right to give them a proper burial.

It would definitely be another new normal to get accustomed to. 

That therapy was going to really come in handy. And as soon as possible. 

[Masterlist]

[Other Masterlist]

[lit--bitch]

Current-Reads (13/04/20 - 18/04/20) 🎺🐝

(Disclosure: I know one of the writers (Annie Dobson) I’m featuring in the current-reads this week through Writing Squad. I also know Tom Bland who runs Spontaneous Poetics but I don’t personally know the two writers whose work I’ve enjoyed on the zine. And I don’t know anybody else sadly, probably because I’m a loner and a loser). 

Here’s the standard preface: every Sunday without fail I throw up the freshest literature and photography I’ve read over the week, sometimes it’s a book, sometimes it’s a piece I saw in a magazine or an online zine, sometimes it’s something I saw on social media, etc. Sometimes I add ‘RECOMMEND’ next to a few of the titles, but that’s not to say I don’t recommend all of them, I just love some pieces more than others. C’est la vie. And any titles that you see in bold are hyperlinked so if you click or tap them they’ll direct you straight to the source... or shopping basket. 

Anyway I’m just gonna get right into it. 

So this week I’ve been reading C.C. Hannett / kmwgh’s Lockdown Life and Charles Theonia’s Two Poems on Queen Mob’s Teahouse, I’ve read Haibun/Uncertainty/A Promise To Your Clothes from Jane Burns on Spontaneous Poetics and I flipped right back to September 2019 and re-read E.A.B’s have a wank because it’s fitting advice for our current predicament. I’ve returned to Patrick Süskind’s Perfume and I’ve been falling in love with Ariana Reines’s The Cow all over again, (whose new collection, A Sand Book, I’ll be reviewing in a few weeks time). Also been reading Annie Dobson’s Before The Ghost Town on the Writing Squad’s Staying Home series which boasts brilliant work. I can never get over how many amazing writers there are in the world. I’ve also discovered a new photographer with a brand new book out from Palm* Studios, Molly Matalon’s When a Man Loves a Woman. 

***

E.A.B’s have a wank, Spontaneous Poetics (21/09/2019): I keep going back to this specific piece because this poem makes you feel like you’re stood outside the John Snow in Soho, completely wasted, having a cig with a friend who’s also pissed up too. That’s the feeling I get from E.A.B’s work. She’s memorable and familiar and probably has a decent right hook. This poem is short, succinct, and means exactly what it means. I love work that is entitled quite plainly, in a way doesn’t subvert expectation—it’s tongue-in-cheek and funny. It’s also pretty good advice for when you’re in the midst of a global pandemic... or a personal crisis, I’m not sure what the difference is anymore. She also has another one up on Spontaneous Poetics, which is equally brilliant, blue balls at the end of humanity. 

Jane Burn’s Haibun/Uncertainty/A Promise To Your Clothes, Spontaneous Poetics (17/04/2020): This is a deeply sad poem eclipsed by grief and time’s relentless push and pull. It also has some absolutely beautiful personification, and it’s in the description of these vernacular objects that you really feel the subject’s hurting. ‘You’ is so empowering here, because it attempts to universalise the reader’s accessibility to the ardour of experience in this work, but is equally an attempt to sever the writer’s ‘You’ from themselves as ‘I’. This poem tells us that some pain is so painful, we can never fully accept that it has been ours to bear. 

Annie Dobson’s Before The Ghost Town, Staying Home from The Writing Squad (RECOMMEND): I’m not saying this just to be kind, all of the work on Staying Home is absolutely brilliant (discluding my own work, I promise I’m not that full of it) but Annie’s piece happened to be one of the first I read and I still think about it. Annie probably doesn’t know this but I stalk her writing. I’m her big fat secret admirer. Quintessentially British, her work smacks of kitchen-sink realism and cherry chapsticks you get in the chemist’s. I always get a noughties vibe from Annie’s writing, I always know what she’s on about. She doesn’t make the banality of life mystical, she treats the ordinary as well, just ordinary, and that’s magical enough anyway. Before The Ghost Town is a mish-mash of genres, it’s an essay but it’s a thought piece but it reads like a diary-entry and is formatted like poetry in some places. More than anything it’s a document on civilisation in Lewisham during the Covid-19 pandemic, and how full the world is still despite the reductive effects of a worldwide crisis. It’s a political critique on how fucked the UK government is, and how community is still one of the most valuable things we have in a world that is trying to make you fight over the last bag of fucking bread flour. It’s honest and sad and retrospective. It’s also filled with promise. I absolutely loved it. 

Molly Matalon, When a Man Loves a Woman: For a long time I shot pictures of men on 35mm to 120mm. I often felt strange doing it. I was used to the dogma of typical male politics; boys don’t cry, having a tough dad, penis envy, etc. It didn’t interest me anymore; the object of masculinity in its most vulnerable, in its deepest sensitivities was the impetus behind my desire to photograph men. Molly Matalon takes pictures of men I wish I had taken. But I don’t think she reverses the power dynamics, per se, although you can absolutely make the case for this, even argue her work is a case for the female gaze. But for me, she strips away these typical power dynamics, she doesn’t polarise herself as the subject, or the object. I don’t see tensions between sexes in these images. I see vulnerability, I see trust, I see relationships. I see men just as worthy of depiction as flowers, as fruits. I feel softness, I feel curves. The photographs in When a Man Loves a Woman are works of of idealisation of woman is implied by man, man as woman, woman as man, the fragile unity in these two creatures, and their reciprocations. She’s absolutely one to watch. 

Ariana Reines, The Cow (RECOMMEND): Ariana Reines is a writer so dear to me, that I can’t really contain in words just how much impact she’s had on me. I salute Elizabeth Ellen (a wonderful writer, and an editor at HOBART magazine in Los Angeles) who, one day, was moving apartments and very generously sent me a box of books all the way from the USA to my parents’ house in Manchester. In that box amongst many books lay Tiqqun’s Theory of the Young-Girl translated by Ariana Reines, and her debut collection, The Cow. So if it wasn’t for Elizabeth, I wouldn’t have read any Ariana Reines until probably much later on in life. At least, I’d like to think I’d have come across Ariana at some point anyway. 

The Cow was published in 2006 by my all-time fav magazine/publisher, Fence. The Cow isn’t poetry, isn’t prose, it’s not an essay, it’s just not any genre at all. And the fact you can’t categorise it is just really is emblematic of Ariana Reines as a writer, because she doesn’t redefine the dimensions of genres, she fucking blitzes them up in a big genre-food-processor. The Cow is the mythologisation and de-mythologisation of the woman as cow. It is the consumption and defecation of woman as cow. It is a lamentation. It is raw. It is beastly. It is thoughts and statistics and menstruation and abbattoirs. It is a dark work of art, and it’s one of the most beautiful, angry and strong texts I’ve ever read. It’s one of those books I think about often. I’d be engrossed on London tubes re-reading this over and over. It’s absolutely everything. 

Patrick Süskind, Perfume (RECOMMEND): Ah, the mothership. Patrick Süskind is... one of a kind. I borrowed the book from my best friend James and after reading it, I read it again. I still haven’t given back James’s copy (which I really need to), and I recently bought a UK first-edition of Perfume so now I can say it’s on my bookshelf. Reading Perfume is an intoxicating experience... I guess it’s because of the way Süskind writes about smell, and he writes about it so vividly that, for me at least, it can induce olfactory hallucinations. It’s not just about the story of a murderer with a superhuman power for scent, it’s about our relationship with different smells we come across throughout our life, their pungency and their ability to kind of tattoo our memory. You can recall scents in a way that you might not be able to with sounds. I don’t remember fully the way my maternal grandmother sounded, she passed when I was a little girl, but I still know her smell. It’s Youth Dew and sweets. Perfume induces sensations and memories in me. It’s a text I go back to time and time again. 

C.C. Hannett / kmwgh’s Lockdown Life, Queen Mob’s Tea House (03/04/2020): Queen Mob’s Tea House is a new fav of mine and their zine kind of reminds me of the Richmond Tea Rooms in Manchester’s Gay Village. They’re a bit Alice in Wonderland, a bit occult, a bit down-the-rabbit-hole, pink and sparkly, with black lace. If that description of the zine borders on pretension then, sorry. I have zine synaethesia. So these poems from ‘C.C. Hannett / kmwgh’ (I’m not sure I understand the name) were awesome little tidbits on living through a global pandemic. An ellision of pop culture, absurdity and tenderness. A reminder that we will never get this time back, and that if you’ve got the luxury of being with your loved ones right now, cherish it. I also really loved the last line of this guy’s bio, no social media handles or website, just: “You can find him if you want to.” Lol. 

Charles Theonia, Two Poems, Queen Mob’s Tea House (24/05/2017) (RECOMMEND): I loved both of these poems but I mostly wanted to talk about ‘shame’. I enjoyed ‘shame’ for its density—it’s a single block paragraph—the format has a weight to it, like that of feeling shame. I know this was published in 2017, basically I was just surfing the zine’s website and clicked on Queen of Pentacles (I was intrigued bc I read Tarot) and this was the  latest entry on there. I enjoy the bluntness and conversational-ism of these two pieces, but I particularly loved ‘shame’ for the way it unpacks shame as a multi-faceted, festering spawn that drags you under, and under, and under. Its resonance is powerful. 

*** Anyway that is enough from me zis week. Next Friday I’m reviewing Charlotte Geater’s poems for my fbi agent which is again from Bad Betty Press. Stay safe, eat cake. xxxxxx

[sweetdclights]

♔  →  westeros  presents  ROSLIN FREY,  the  LADY  of  HOUSE FREY.  a  raven  sent  word  that she bear(s)  the  resemblance  to  ELLISE CHAPPELL.  the  TWENTY-SEVEN  year  old  FEMALE  was  DEMURE  &  INTELLIGENT  before  the  dawn  of  war,  but  have  now  become  SECLUDED  &  UNSURE.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  EMOTIONAL EMBRACES THAT SPEAK MORE THAN HER VOICE CAN BEGIN TO ARTICULATE, THE TRANSLATOR OF MUSIC TO HUMAN KIND, INVISIBLE BLOOD ONLY SEEN BY THE WEARER STAINED UPON ALL PREVIOUS MEMORIES.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSE  STARK /  THEMSELVES,  but  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones. (  jasmine,  19,  pst,  she/her.  )

AKLHSDFLKJHIAOWSNFD i am so excited to be back here with roslin. though, this time, i have done some renovations on my roslin portrayal just because i have had time to think about her and develop her a little bit more. 

okay, some basic headcanons i put on my app!

roslin is a musician at heart, and has been raised to embrace this side of her while she could. a gift her mother gave her before she had died, roslin made sure to keep music very much present in her life while she grew older and her father demanded that she became as eligible as possible for any suitor that came along.

because her father kept her rather secluded from the world, roslin relied on books and her instruments to fill her voids of boredom. she did try to escape her quarters for the sake of even getting a glimpse of the excitement that was the world outside of her stoned walls, though she was never the best sneaker and was always found by her brothers or sisters and turned in to her father.

her siblings were rather envious of her. at least, those who gave a damn about ol' walder frey's attention and approval. she very much had the spirit of a performer and wanted to express that to the world. to teach the world the gentleness it still possessed and show that it still could be redeemed from it's wretched deeds. something her father thought quite differently about. however, he loved her still. or at least, loved her as much as he could.

roslin is said to be the most beautiful daughters walder has ever beared, and though this may be true, her siblings often had a saying that it was her beautiful personality within that made her a beauty on the outside. how could someone so sweet and so kind be seen as an ugly human being, after all?

roslin very much wanted to get married. after all, it was the only thing her life was leading up to. all ideals of marriage were being feed to the young girl and she would be a liar if she didn't admit that she very much was in love with the idea of marrying robb stark. though, that idea soon left her mind as she realized that robb stark was never meant to be wed to her. not now, perhaps not ever. he was a leader of the stark house, and perhaps the closest thing to being the true king of westeros. she couldn't possibly get in his way, with her remote understanding of the world. she doubted herself being a good wife to him, and in the end, she was happy to see him choose his path and decided not to wed her. she felt deep down, he would have regretted it.

roslin has a self-image about herself that is decent, to say the least. she knows she is beautiful, she knows she is a good person. she knows that she can probably get any man out there. however, she also knows that she is far less capable than those in dorne. she knows that she far more docile than the women who make it in this world. she feels that she wouldn't make a great leader, and she feels as though she should settle for less now instead of excelling and becoming better than she is. she feels that this person she has become is all she can be. deep down, she can be as fierce as any of her siblings. she can be as cunning as the world would require her to be. she can, yet she feels that she can't and won't be able to

basically, in summery, roslin has never understood the purpose of the war, from the very beginning. she has understood the war as a necessity for power, for a family to be higher than the rest and that this was never what the people of westeros needed. because of this, she doesn’t wish to participate in the war. yet, she has been unwilling thrown into the fire pit as a pawn of the game and never to be undone ever again. her actions have caused irreversible consequences and now she must endure what comes at her. roslin hasn’t been prepared for it, and to this day she still feels unprepared. though, with the few companions (like the Starks and the Tullys and anyone she has remotely had a conversation with), she is coming to terms with these matters slowly but surely.

bring her friends! bring her enemies, bring her potential lovers and bring her old flings. she definitely can be intimidated (though perhaps by the wrong people????) so you bet your butt there will plenty of that in a place where she is face to face with all the major players of the game of thrones. admiration? roslin doesn’t know many but she definitely admires people. people who roslin considers family? YOU BET YOUR BUTT SHE NEEDS AND WANTS THAT! 

i can assure you, i will find something for our characters to be like.

just like this post and i will hop into your im’s and we can start plotting! if you have a preference for discord, you can find me @bluepolaris#9579! 

[our-legacy-rp-blog]

MONI has been accepted for the character ISOLDA ARUNDEL

We absolutely love your take on Isolda, she should be an excellent addition to the RP. She is such an interesting character, and you certaintly captured that. Welcome to OL, and be sure you fill out the checklist HERE.

OOC name & pronouns: Moni, she/her Age: 25 Timezone: CST

Character’s name: Isolda Aruden FC choice: Candice Patton Position request: N/A

Birthday: May 10; Taurus.

Earth Sign; Taurus sign is know to be practical, patient, and thinkers. Slow and study wins the race, but once she finds something that catches her eye, there is no stopping her from finding the answer. While her sister is more of the extroverted bull, Izzy is the introverted bull who watches, waits, and then charges. She likes to look at all situations first before she goes forward with her plans.

Wand: 10 ½; Beech; Unicorn Tail Hair.

Patronus: Not everyone can produce a patronus and I’m one of those Harry Potter fans who doesn’t believe everyone should be able to produce one. When I read through Isolda’s Past part, I realized she could be a smart wizard but still not be able to master how to produce a patronus just yet. The problem is that she hasn’t fully maintained a positive memory strong enough for her to fully produce one. Along with her worries and change of heart she is having currently with her mother, it’s still hard for her to fully produce something longer than three seconds. This is something only her sister knows about to a certain extent. 

Boggart: Izzy’s boggart takes the form of her sister and mother being tortured and dying. When she first encountered a boggart at her house, it had been her trapped in small spaces. She was afraid that she would not be able to figure out how to get out of a space like that and that she failed to solve something. Yet when she was in Hogwarts, the form of the Boggart started to change. While encountering one at school, many people thought that it might be a werewolf or another magical monster. However, when it came out to the image of her mother and sister slowly dying, she realized that though she might have her differences with her mother and her ideals, her mother and especially her sister still meant so much to her that if she ever lost them, she was not sure how she would live on.

HEADCANONS:

Izzy has taken a strong interest in history and research during her time at Hogwarts. In her sixth year, she has been granted special permission to explore rare books that Hogwarts would receive along with access to the restricted section even though she is not a seventh year. She keeps multiple notebooks with different topics she is looking into. For those she doesn’t want her mother or sister to know about, she labels them something else to throw them off. 

As a stress reliever, Izzy bakes. Baking is full of precision, patience, and skill. She loves looking up different recipes and techniques to help improve her skill and taste palette. Her favorite thing to bake is bread because you have to pay attention to how much of each ingredient you put into your creation. She had once joked with her mother that if school didn’t work out, she would open a bakery in Diagon Alley. Her mother, with little to no shock to Izzy, was not amused with this comment but deep down she was sure her mother could agree that she could make a mean banana bread. 

As twins, Izzy always felt like the closest person in her life was Lissa. Lissa was her complete opposite but they complimented each other well. Izzy was afraid that once they got into Hogwarts, they wouldn’t have a close bond anymore. Her theory was proven wrong just a few months into their first year. Though their house brought out their best, and sometimes worst, qualities, Izzy felt just as close to her sister than ever before. There are just certain things Izzy feels it’s best to keep to herself rather than tell her sister. Other than that, Lissa is the only person Izzy feels comfortable talking to freely. 

Before going to Hogwarts, Izzy was gifted with a cat to keep her company while her and her sister shared an owl for mail. Izzy had found over the years that she was more of a dog person than a cat person but her tabby cat, Neptune, has grown on her over the years. Neptune has a way of comforting Izzy when she doens’t realize she needs to calm down or concentrate. He doesn’t get in her way or bother her all that much but he will make his presence known when he wants to. According to Izzy, Neptune might be mixed with something else other than 100% cat. He is too smart sometimes she feels but like her sister points out to her, she could be over thinking things.

HISTORY:

The Arundel family wanted for nothing in the wake of the Second Wizarding War. With many families decimated, their lines broken or simply killed off, the Arundels rose to the top of pureblood wizarding society like a predator on its prey. They’d always been an aspiring family, making connections where they could and intermarrying where possible, but there never seemed to get the recognition and status that they desired - they could never reach the highest positions in the Ministry of Magic, they could never secure alliances with the top families. But when many pure families sunk away with shame at the end of the war, the Arundel’s rose to the top: Ellise Arundel was perfectly placed in the Ministry to become Vice Minister of Magic, second only to Lowell Tegus. Securing the spot during his election, Ellise became the one Arundel to succeed where others hadn’t. Their pride kept them from boasting, but the family was happy - and so was Ellise. From then on, they held their heads high at gatherings and parties, but most importantly, they remembered who their friends were now that their fortunes had turned around.

Already married and with two twin daughters, Ellise was a busy woman with strategy on the mind and not a lot of time to spare for others. She tried to be there for her daughters, but the truth was that her job was everything: as Vice Minister, she was working with Minister Tegus in those early days to reform ancient laws, arrest werewolves, and establish calm among a people who were terrified. Ellise hardly saw the twins for several years back then, lost as she was in her work. A strong-headed woman with a vision for the future, Ellise became partners with Tegus to help restore the wizarding world to its original glory: something that they hadn’t experienced for many years. Popular among the members of several Departments for always sparing them the time to talk, listen, or answer questions, Ellise helped to bring support to Tegus’ campaign - as well as to humanise his cold approach to the werewolf issue. In office, Ellise was Tegus’ essential right hand in everything he did: she helped coordinate aurors from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but she also helped to bury those who had died during the London Riot with dignity.

Izzy was always the quieter of the twins - the more likely to be in her sister’s shadow or to follow her lead. Lissa never took advantage of that, nor did she push Izzy to be someone she wasn’t: Lissa was instead loud enough and bold enough for the two of them. Izzy was cautious where her sister was rash; she was contemplative where her sister was talkative. Izzy was a child who thought about what she wanted to say before she said it - and even then, she’d think about the ramifications of those words. It was less about hurting someone’s feelings than protecting her own: Izzy knew the weight of words and the effect they could have. She saw it first hand when she and her sister would spend a few hours in their mother’s office sometimes, playing in the corner while Ellise went about her meetings and planning. Izzy loved her mother, but the force of her determination was both an awe-inspiring and terrifying thing to her. Growing up around such a strong woman who used words to convince the wizarding world that the problem was under control when Izzy, sitting in her mother’s office and hearing of the werewolf attacks and protests, knew those words were lies.

Groomed, trained, and pampered, Izzy and her sister spent their time learning how to be the best pureblood women that they could be. Given theoretical lessons on magical history and magic itself, Izzy found that she enjoyed pouring herself into knowledge more than the social aspect of her world. It was a distraction from what was going on around her, but Izzy enjoyed researching the history behind everything that was happening in the wizarding world, looking for pieces of the puzzle. In her mind, it was as though she could assemble all the separate parts and find the thing that they had in common - the one thing that would undo all of the trouble in the world. Reluctantly, Izzy was pulled out of her world of papers and books to socialise, her sister whispering names and titles in her ear at parties, the two of them smiling nicely.

Hogwarts came with a warning from Ellise: watch what you say and who you say it to. Izzy had never been one to spill secrets, so her mother had nothing to fear from her. The twins were separated into different houses, which became the first time that Izzy had to really fend for herself. Ravenclaw changed Izzy from being a closed off girl into someone interested in collaborative work, researching, and group projects. She was far from being the leader of any of these things, but she enjoyed the feeling of putting minds together to work toward a whole. For so long, the only mind that she’d connected with had been her sister’s, but now Izzy had a whole house full of smart people willing to put their effort toward learning - and she realised that she wasn’t out of place at all.

Izzy is a smart, logical, and problem-solving girl who thrives on filling her mind with dates, facts, and small tidbits. She’s perpetually searching for a bigger picture - something that all her knowledge can build to - and she often gets disheartened because she can’t quite get there. Though Izzy was raised to believe in her mother’s cause, that werewolves are monsters who need to be caged, it’s only within the last few months that Izzy’s faith has begun to waver. For the first time in her life, she has doubts: what if her mother is wrong? What if there is a better way to handle the werewolves? Izzy doesn’t dare speak out to her family and especially not her sister, all of who believe so strongly in what they’re doing. Keeping secrets isn’t hard for Izzy, but it does weigh on her mind a lot, especially when she has to keep up appearances as a hard and fast supporter of her mother’s agenda.

NOW:

After her O.W.L.S, Izzy received an O in History, showing her strength in History of Magic. Research had become one of her strongest skills over the years making her a tutor for those in her year and younger who needed help with their projects or reports. She had been brought in by her head of house and Professor Binns (still mysteriously teaching History of Magic and floating around like he never died in the first place) to talk about her place outside of Hogwarts. They encouraged her to possibly take a research internship during the summer before her last year in America. All she had to do was figure out what area she wanted to concentrate on. Wanting to write to her mother about the opportunity, she knew her mother wouldn’t be the biggest fan of this career choice. Ellise would want her daughters to take respectable jobs and well respected jobs. Izzy knew her sister would want to follow in their mother’s footsteps and it was suppose to be what she wanted too. After all, her mother was the one who was able to accomplish what all the other Arundel’s weren’t able to do: get the recognition and status they deserved. 

With all the events happening during her sixth year, Izzy is starting to realize she wants to do more to look into the laws that her mother helped enforce. Were the supernatural creatures her mother and the Ministry, a now close friend of the family, the monster they claimed them to be? Izzy could be like her sister and believe everything that was told to them. Izzy, however, was all about the facts. And the more she kept looking into the history, documents, and anything she was able to get her hands on, the more she began to realize that maybe what everything her mother and the Minister preached wasn’t 100% true. Now close to the end of her sixth year, Izzy realizes that there are a lot of decisions she has to make and secrets she needs to keep to herself. Even though she is close to her sister, she knows if she voices her opinions about her future and her current opinion, she might lose the ones she loves the most. 

[kinghoranshit]

Just Another Normal Story (HS) - PT 4

I cradled our daughter, Harmony, in my arms. I felt exhausted. It’d been the two days since she came into the world the morning of November sixth. 

A conclusion I came to about all of this was, at least it was happening when the weather's getting colder. Zombies couldn’t handle that, right? And we had the fireplace to keep the house heated if the power went out completely. We had no cable or internet though. 

“Nichole,” My dad’s firm voice filled my head. 

I looked over at him and he was giving me that look. 

“Dad.” I shot him a look.

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “We’re running out of food.” 

I shook my head. “No, not yet.” 

“Come on, Follow me.” My dad tilted his head toward the doorway.

I looked down at sleeping Harmony. I didn’t want to let her go. 

“You need to see what he has. I’ll take her,” my mother stated. 

Finally, I nodded and handed her over to my mom. 

We went down to the basement into his workshop and he handed something to me. The wooden crossbow I used three years in a row for my Halloween costume in high school. I had been a zombie slayer. Ironic, I know. 

I didn’t know why he handed this to me. It didn’t work. It was broken last I knew. But as I glanced at it in my hands, it looked brand new. 

“You fixed it up? Why?” I asked. 

“For you to use,” he remarked. “Become that zombie slayer.” 

I laughed. “Dad, it was just a costume and a joke. We both know I’m too scared of zombies.” 

“I’m scared of zombies too. But killing them takes it away little by little. Here.” He now handed a bag of metal arrows to me. 

“I don’t even know how to use this!” I exclaimed, trying to shove it back into his hands. 

“I’ll teach you. It’s not hard. Just a pull of a trigger and putting the arrow in is a piece of cake. One of the quickest reloading weapons.”

I shook my head. “This is fucking nuts.”

“What’re you going to do when you run out of supplies for Harmony? What if I end up dying?”

I kept my mouth shut. I already knew the answer. I felt this certain feeling surging from deep within my chest. The adrenaline kicked in at the thought of stepping foot out of the barricaded house. I hadn’t seen what it looked like in two days. It could be completely different. Or the same. Probably the same.

“Got anything I can practice on?” I asked. 

***

I wiped the gleam of sweat off my forehead as I panted. I walked over to take the metal arrow out of the bullseye target that had a botchy sketch of a zombie tacked onto it. My goal was to get in the forehead. And if the arrow didn’t go all the way through, I’d have to get up close and personal. 

“Nichole!” Harry called. 

“Yeah?” I yelled back, loading another arrow into the crossbow. She worked well. After a couple hours, I’d gotten pretty decent. Not sure I was good enough to go out yet. Well, mentally anyway. This surely would lead to major therapy in the future if we survived and somehow a cure came about. I already couldn’t sleep much, worried they’d break down the barriers and overtake us. 

“We’re out of diapers.” His figure appeared at the doorway of the garage. I could hear them outside every once and awhile. I was positive they could smell me through the metal door. 

I stared at him a bit blankly. “We can’t be.” 

“But we are,” he remarked. 

I felt my heart lurch into my throat. It wasn’t like I expected us to just hide away in the house forever. I was hopeful of it, but knew we couldn’t. It wasn’t realistic. 

I sighed heavily, grabbing the satchel of arrows, and continued to hold the crossbow in my hands. I walked in past him and into the living room. My mom was on the couch still, holding a giggly Harmony. 

“C’mon, Nikki, we’re going to Target,” my dad ordered, reloading his shotgun. 

“What? Just us two?” I shot.

He nodded. “Yeah. Harry will stay here with mom and Harmony.” 

“No, no, no.” I shook my head. “That’s a bad idea. We should stick together.” 

“We can’t take a baby out there,” my mom argued. “It’s too cold.” 

The thought from earlier popped back into my head.

“If it’s too cold for her, wouldn’t it be too cold for the zombies?” But I knew as soon as the words left my mouth, it was a no. “Nevermind.”

But then the thought of this thing from ‘Warm Bodies’ came into my head. “Do you think putting zombie guts on us would prevent them from smelling us? That way we can get more when we go to Target. We wouldn’t have to watch out as much.”

“That might work.” My dad nodded. “Harry, mom, and Harmony are still staying here.” 

I huffed in annoyance. I just had a bad feeling with them not being in my sight for so long. 

***

I pulled the green army jacket on over my blue plaid shirt. That which I wore with a grey tank underneath, denim skinnies, and brown combats. Why not? I never thought I’d actually wear this outfit again, but it seemed like an essential thing to do under the circumstances. My acting as a zombie slayer days were over. I was going to be one. 

Harry pressed his lips against mine. “Be careful. I’ve got it here.” 

I gave him a weak smile. “Remember, if too many happen to break in, kill the first one you see and put the guts on you. Then mom and Harmony. Mom has a pistol she can use.” 

He nodded and kissed me once more. I rested my hand on the back of his neck, holding him there. I wanted to feel his lips for as long as I could. It could be for the last time.

“I love you,” I whispered. 

He nuzzled his face into my hair. “I love you too.” 

I walked over to my mom and Harmony. I kissed my daughter’s head and looked into her big, very dark blue eyes. “Mommy has to go get you things. See you soon.” I looked at my mom and she had tears brimming her eyes. There was no way she was going to take my place. She didn’t have the agility to sprint or run long distances since her major car accident a few years back; she had to get medical nails in her ankle. 

“Stay safe.” 

I gave her a small smile. “Of course.” 

We left in my dad’s Ford F150 truck. I had my crossbow ready to shoot down any so they wouldn’t get into the garage. Luckily, Harry had the garage shut before any got in. I sat back down and shut my window. 

“How much gas?” I asked. My dad never really kept track of that sort of thing. 

“Three-fourths.”

I nodded. “Okay. Good. That should be good for a couple trips. But remember, we want to get as much as we can in this one trip.”

“I know,” he replied. 

I didn’t say anything else. I looked out the window. It seemed especially gloomy today. The sky was full of grey clouds, casting a white hue over everything. I could see a few moving figures as he drove. It wasn’t a long drive to Target. Only fifteen minutes. But every minute I was preparing myself. 

“Here’s the plan.” My dad turned the truck off. “You go ahead and get everything for Harmony. I’ll get the food. Remember to use the crossbow, and test your theory if possible. Got it?”

I let out a deep breath. “Yeah.” I reached back for the two duffels. I strapped one across my chest. This should be fun. 

It was dead silent as we walked into the dim lighted Target; must be barely powered by a generator. The glass of the doors had been shattered, so our boots crunched on the pieces. I mentally cursed. Here’s hoping that sound wouldn’t provoke any zombies that could be nearby. 

I wish the baby supplies weren’t set in the back part of the entire store. If I do run into a zombie, testing my theory would be the first thing I do. I made sure the walkie-talkie was still harnessed onto one of the loops.

“See you soon,” he whispered, splitting off, and left me alone. Nichole, don’t let your fear take over. You can protect yourself. Doing this for Harmony and Harry. 

I went for the smaller stuff first-- onesies, socks, shoes, blankets, pacifiers, baby wipes, toys. I wasn’t entirely positive what she all needs right now. I was just glad we didn’t need to get a crib; my parents had one for when John and Ellise visited. Oh God. I hope they’re okay. And Leo! He was no longer in Iowa as well. I didn’t want to think the worst but I already was considering we hadn’t heard from them at all. The satellite towers went out yesterday. It wouldn’t be long until our power was out I assumed, so we should grab extra batteries and candles. 

I zipped the duffel shut to make sure everything was secured. Next, I grabbed my last item, which would be the biggest and wouldn’t fit in the duffel. I held my crossbow up, ready to aim and shoot. I made fast and quiet movements to where the diapers were. My blood stopped cold hearing a shuffling sound. 

I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. I turned around to see a guy who couldn’t be much older than me standing there. He was eyeing me good. His icy blue veins popped out all over the place. He growled at me. 

Despite my previous fear towards zombies, I couldn’t help a smirk. “Want me?” 

His eyes grew even more wide as he overlooked me more. I held my crossbow up and aimed for the middle of his head. Closing one eye to get better radar. There was another screeching sound.

Fuck. 

I pulled the trigger, watching the arrow fly and sink into the guy’s head. I tripped my way over to him, pierced it in even more just to be sure before yanking it out. I reloaded the crossbow with the same arrow and frantically rolled onto my back to aim. She was right above me. I could see the brain matter still attached to the cold metal and without a second though, I glided my fingers over it. The gooey sensation was not pleasant when it hit me. The smell wasn’t either as I wiped it onto my face; it was like expired dairy and throw up all in one. Gross as hell but worth it as I saw the skinny lady sniff the air, confused. She looked displeased when she couldn’t smell what she did before.

Slowly, I sidestepped around her and then bolted to find my dad. I grabbed the walkie-talkie. 

“Dad? Do you copy?” 

I didn’t get an answer then I could hear some cries and yells. Oh no. 

I sprinted the fastest I had ever in my life, looking down every aisle of food. Finally, I found him in the bread. Four or five zombies were going at him. It didn’t matter how it happened, I needed to do something. 

I held my crossbow up, aiming for one as I stalked towards them. I pulled the trigger and didn’t wait. I reloaded with another and aimed once again. I took down another. Now, just two were left. My dad still fought with the one holding onto his coat. So, I took down the other trying to help her boyfriend on their date. 

My dad smashed the zombie’s head into the shelf a couple times and his body fell limp. I reached my hand out and he gladly took it.

“The guts thing works?” he panted. I noted the scratch on his face and hoped that the virus didn’t transfer that way.

I nodded. “Yeah. Killed one over by the baby stuff.”

“I told you could get good with the bow.” He cheesed, picking up his shotgun and duffle. 

I rolled my eyes. “You got everything?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, I still need diapers. We should also get candles and toilet paper if there’s any left. Let’s grab em and get out of here.” 

“Don’t forget Gander.” 

Right…

***

I used a different walkie-talkie to contact Harry when we were back in the driveway. “Hey, we’re back. Open the garage.” 

“Okay,” he replied briefly.

The garage door opened and my dad pulled in. Harry was quick to get it closing. Once it was shut and we were in the clear, we carried everything inside. We grabbed like ten boxes of diapers. Each carried five out. Didn’t have to worry about zombies attacking us since we didn’t smell like food.

I went to kiss Harry, but he stepped back. “Please clean up first.” 

I smiled slyly before I grabbed his face and rubbed his cheek against mine. Nothing was going to transfer since it was dry. 

“Thank you so much, Nikki,” Harry retorted, dramatically wiping his face. He was definitely pleased to see no crud on his fingers. 

“You’re welcome.”

Next and final: 5

[Masterlist]