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ifeelhuman · 3 days ago

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after another rewatch, that was arcane episode 12, season 2 episode 3 the end of the 1st act of the season and 4th act overall. with this show… things just keep getting more and more involved. this episode a prime example of that. let’s get into it.

we’re shown a bit more of the info with the Kiramann family legacy and how Caitlyn has access to all that now. in specifics, it’s in regard to the Grey—smog from the mining in the early days of Piltover that needed to be contained lest it affect all citizens in both topside and the undercity. the Kiramann’s took it upon themselves (and either they were architects or they hired architects) to devise a ventilation and containment system for the Grey. unfortunately, it looks like Caitlyn and her team are effectively letting loose small bouts of the dirty air in pockets to more securely search the underground to complete their three main objectives. while seemingly useful in their endeavor, that doesn’t take away from the fact that they’re exposed random citizens to filthy air and thereby making them sick. they’re hurting many people in the crusade for one particular individual. it’s sad and dark and whose to tell them this isn’t a good plan or worthwhile when it almost worked anyway (now, they don’t know that but we as the audience know just how close they were to at lease seeing Jinx and she was meer moments from having a rather heavy coughing fit herself [which, i think, we didn’t see because while running away last episode crying and coughing she got the wind knocked out of her—that could’ve expelled the majority or a chunk of the Grey out of her lungs])? and, of course, there is a poetic justice to the fact that at the end Jinx—and by extension Zaun—releases it back into the city of which it was to be rid of. and i want to think that once Cait and her team saw the dolls Jinx made that perhaps if they changed their strategy and waited to go after Jinx (because she was anticipating them as a result of her seeing them) they likely wouldn’t caught Jinx off-guard for a second time. just a thought

Mel’s mother, Ambessa, is running from something (or is at least very good at making it seem like that is the case) in connection to what happened either Mel’s brother, Kino. she takes out Amara, a seemingly minor character with nothing beyond the surface who actually turns out to be in Ambessa’s words, an “insolent witch.” i’m not sure if the Black Rose power and the faction that has that are actually witches (if i’m meant to read into that word) or if she used that word to describe how lowly these people are in regards to their evil/etc. this was and so far is the only time we see Ambessa caught off guard by another character in such a way that threatens her own life. so, of course, she’s going to be all the more resolute in starting the war and she takes advantage of the assassination attempt and blames it on no-name Zaunites at the end of the episode the further her agenda in starting a war to, as Mel put it, “cover [her] ass.” speaking of, Mel was well on her way to figuring this out.

Elora is a really loyal and dedicated personal assistant, i like her and i’m actually loving her VA as well—so much emotion and emphasis to show that Elora genuinely cares about Mel, Piltover, and takes pride in doing a good job with her work. on her own figured out that there is discrepancies in regard to Kino’s death, confirmed that Salo met with the other houses, and takes serious the things that Mel says. for instance, in season 1 Mel introduces Amara to Jayce before their talk about reinstating trading privileges as someone with “little to no threat” and that “she’s harmless.” Mel said this in the presence of Elora which means she takes heed of that. so for Elora to hear that Mel wants Amara to be checked on—she doesn’t throw Mel’s words back at her—she takes it with sincerity and plans to follow thru. however, both of which are kidnapped/taken by the Black Rose and therefore are coincidentally absent for Ambessa’s public outcry for martial law. a little too coincidental—saw a theory that because Ambessa is so protective and willing to do the extreme thing to protect Mel and her personal interests that in pursuit of these actions she overlooked Mel’s location (because Ambessa is keeping her distance) and isn’t present or aware when her daughter’s life (another councilor !!) is in danger. what will happen with this dynamic i do not know but someone is going to pay, i believe. i didn’t really talk about the new feline character Lest but i like her design and hope this wasn’t her character’s only appearance.

between episode 3 and 4 of season 1 we got a timeskip (i’ve heard that it’s been confirmed to be 7 years so that’s what i’m running with) and in these years harpooned-over Jayce and Viktor constructed the HexGates and the entire structure is a vertical shaft. Ekko, Heimerdinger, and Jayce upon analysis of the tree leaves from the shelter in the undercity move their conversation to the topic of the Arcane, magic itself. Jayce brings up Viktor’s theory of wild runes and because wild runes are a response that is not exactly favored when called for, they are starting to affect things in unexpected ways. to explore this phenomena further, they go to the place where the failsafe for the HexGates are located—at the bottom of a shaft more than a couple hundred feet below ground level. upon Heimerdinger’s discovery of the same pattern on the floor of the failsafe’s room, the Arcane reacts again. the physical/tangible devices operating with HexTech gemstones and that alike literally glitch through several forms in real-time. we don’t actually see the end of this sequence but as the audience we see Jayce slam his HexTech hammer onto the wild rune itself and it seemingly stops it (?) but we don’t see the three characters after the fact. very curious to see what’s become of them now.

finally… the last scene. Caitlyn and Vi agree to cut loose Maddie and the other two officers with them to save their lives but we later are able to infer (imo) that keeping them all together (or at the least having them arrive slightly later after Cait and Vi) would’ve been probably beneficial to their goal of taking down Jinx—at the end there Sevika was knocked out (kinda) and it was only Isha (little girl we were introduced to last episode) in the way to Jinx. Maddie and the other two could’ve secured Sevika so she wouldn’t get involved (and therefore wouldn’t set off the reversal of the Grey), and Vi or Vi and one of the other officers could take Isha off Jinx and had the other hold Jinx down. but that isn’t what happened… because they were trying to save lives. another thing. if Vi had let Caitlyn take the shot EVEN IF it did hit Isha (which is terrible thing and i want to emphasize that), let’s say (a) it hit Isha then a second shot took out Jinx or (b) one shot hit Jinx AND Isha but still killing one or both of them—it’s worth it to realize that killing Jinx and one child would save thousands. that doesn’t make it okay to kill a child but because Cait couldn’t take the shot we’ll never know for certain. and that fight scene. fuck !! i don’t like knowing that these were really closer sisters and now they’re fighting (to the death—let’s be real) without any mercy (until the end) but at least the fighting choreo is some of/if not the best in this show so far. Powder/Jinx has come such a long way from the “i’m not a fighter” and “they never work” to her being a deceptively capable fighter with incredible gadgets and bombs at her disposal. if Caitlyn didn’t take out Jinx’s finger whose to say who would’ve won between the two sisters. Vi was only able to pin her down like she did because of this act. and she likely won’t be able to again

seeing Jinx accept death at the hands of her sister, Mel getting snatched, Jinx having her first real physical consequence (finger lost), the Arcane reacting like a element of nature, and Cait and Vi finally kissing getting-into-but-not-a-relationship just so they can part at the end because Vi wasn’t going to risk a child’s life. it’s so very sad and tragic. i just want these characters to be happy. hope we see more of Maddie, Viktor/Sky, and Mel next episode. Cait’s descent into rage is going to have more consequences. will see soon. quite soon, i imagine.

#arcane #arcane review #arcane episode 12 #arcane episode 12 review #arcane season 2 episode 3 #arcane season 2 episode 3 review #my reviews

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honey-tongued-devil · 2 years ago

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↞[arcane preference] with s/o wet due to rain↠

▶[Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Marcus, Silco, Vander, Singed, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika] with s/o wet due to rain (and a bit sad)

I know you missed me <3 I’ve almost finished the exams of this session, so I can write more! I’ve seen some authors join challenges where they write one scenario a day and I’d like to do something similar, in case you have prompt you can dm it to me!

(While I was writing it took a particular meaning, so I specify that in some points is the reader is a little sad/ melancholy)

↠No use of "y/n", gender neutral reader (no pronouns for the reader) ↠TW: fluff?, Sfw ↠Character/s: gn reader, Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Marcus, Silco, Vander, Singed, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika

↠If you have any requests, ask the devil.↞

【Jayce】

The rain doesn’t bother Jayce too much, at least when he’s the one getting soak to the bone.

But when you knock on the door of his dorm room, he casts his eyes in disbelief.

He pulls you into the room quickly, raising the temperature of the thermostat.

makes you sit and offers something warm as he goes to prepare the bath, putting clean towels and his clothes on hand.

If they’re too wide, it’s not a problem, he’ll just look away and shrug, his ears flushing. Clearly, his neurons stopped working on that view.

When you come back from the bathroom you find him busy preparing the bed by putting extra pillows and plaids.

will make you find food, no matter if it is junk food or vegetable broth arranged in that little time, the important thing is that you completely recover

"I thought if you’ve been out in the rain so long it’s because something didn’t go right and... uhm..."

obviously worried, but he won’t force you to talk about it. If you’ve actually just caught the downpour, he’ll give you a lecture about bringing always an umbrella and how health is important

If you actually have something upsetting you, he will just caress the back of your neck

will hold you close if you do not want to talk about it, so that you feel that you are not alone.

【Viktor】

You probably don’t even have to reach him.

Both in the courtyard of the academy soaked to the bone, hair stuck to the face.

on the one hand you are two idiots, on the other the feeling of loneliness, the smell of petrichor, the rain that seems to wash away the problems relaxes you

You go back to the dorm together, arm in arm because of the slippery ground

I can’t really tell what’s the reason, but taken by an unjustified euphoria, mixed with the fact that no one sees you, you would even sing off-key some notes of "Loverboy" to Viktor, who would barely hold a giggle.

It is said that not all evils come to harm, and showering together is proof of this.

It doesn’t have to result in something more, it’s a simple way to replicate the feeling of raindrops on the skin without getting sick.

You enjoy a bit the feeling, a bit the intimacy that is created by gently passing your fingers in each other’s hair.

After the ritual shower you are together wrapped in blankets, talking about more and less with your eyes closed: the exams, the hextech, some embarrassing scene of Jayce happened in the day, up to fall asleep in that position

lulled by the sound of the storm, muffled by the closed glass

【Ekko】

He doesn’t love the rain, but in his defense it is both an obstacle when you move with the hoverboard, both the rain of zaun is so acidic to be almost corrosive.

The first instinct to see you come back to the firelights soaking wet would be to scold you: he is worried, he didn’t see you return to base, he had feared the worst.

Once he gets past the initial reaction, he’ll make fun of you. Look at you, you look like a drowned rat.

he would bring you a warm clothes change and approach you, rubbing the back of your head with a towel partly to remove water from your hair, partly to get a smile out of you.

a quick check to see if you got hurt, ready to medicate you in case, before getting told in detail what you were doing out there, if you saw or did something and how it went.

He would not be too apprehensive, the rain is annoying but it is the least.

But he’s empathetic enough to know if you’ve been taken aback by the sudden rain or if you needed to be alone with yourself.

"Ya know… if something goes wrong you can tell me ‘bout it, if not as a partner at least as a member of this community. We solve problems together. There is no "stupid" or "not serious" problem, if something hurts you"

He’s not one to talk too sentimental, but in these cases he prefers to put aside his character and remind you that you’re not alone

and that if you do not have an umbrella you can stand in two under the same

【Silco】

When you enter his office dripping wet, he looks up from the documents only to raise his brows, before looking back at the pieces of paper, waiting for an explanation.

He is not indifferent to the fact that you are shaking like a leaf, but in his gaze it’s implied a scolding: you should have repaired yourself or should not have gone out at all.

If you don’t feel like explaining yourself, Silco’d just sigh and put the documents in a desk drawer, getting up to go get a plaid hot enough to make you stop shaking.

But he doesn’t wrap you in it or give it to you directly, he walks instead to return sitting on his throne

He places the blanket in such a way that he wrap you when you go to sit on his lap, holding you. It is about respecting the spaces, if you want physical comfort you can hide in his arms, otherwise you can only take the blanket.

Plus, you can take your time.

he would turn on the gramophone, letting the low volume music fill the room.

He doesn’t talk, you already know everything you need to know. He gently runs his fingers through your wet hair until you fall asleep, wrapping you up better.

"Sometimes it’s good for us to carve out a corner of the world for ourselves, to be alone with our thoughts. But don’t overdo it, health is a precious gift."

his lips whisper these words softly against your temple.

He does not mind the rain, the noise relaxes him, so would take advantage of it to stay for a while in intimacy tight in that position, lulled by the notes that fill the air and by the drops of water on the green window

【Marcus】

He wouldn’t really know how to act, he wouldn’t spontaneously do anything other than ask you explicitly if everything’s okay and what he can do.

He’s a simple man: if you tell him to get the tub ready, he does. If you tell him to make a seat for you at the table, he is already in the kitchen.

he’s not stupid, he just doesn’t know what you feel do to and what you don’t, so he shows his concern in helping you the exact way you need help.

If he has already eaten, he will still sit at the table with you, perhaps peeling a fruit while you are busy eating a hot meal.

And he is going to tell you about his day, about the child, about how the Kirammans are giving him white hair.

"You know Marcus, they kinda suit you well. White hair I mean"

He looks up at you before spreading his lips in an idiot smile that never fails to put you in a good mood

"Then I’ll be working overtime for that family. Double shift tomorrow, definitely."

Maybe he doesn’t have loud reactions or exaggerations, but that normality that permeates the room when you’re alone with him makes you feel safe.

When you start eating the fruit, he stands up and disappears into the bedroom.

You are going to find extra pillows and candles, just to create a small corner for you two

【Vander】

The sigh that comes out of his lips is worth more than a hundred words.

He makes you sit at the counter and prepares you a hot drink, something to warm you up with before he crosses his arms.

"So? You don’t have to tell me anything?" can be a little intimidating, but you know he’s just worried. You imagine that he waited for you with anxiety, that he is worried about you and how you feel.

He knows you’re grown and independent, but he still feels responsible for everything that happens in the lanes, and you also know for sure he was ready to blame himself if anything happened to you.

In case it was just a shower, a second sigh would follow, this time to lighten the chest.

he smiles at you tired but full of love. "One day you’ll scare me to death like this"

If you want to talk instead Vander is a great listener, would remain silent and would take some time to answer you, so that he actually looks for a solution or an adequate answer and not just being polite.

very apprehensive, he is the father of four children after all. Once he’s done cleaning the inn, he’ll carry you in his room, cuddling and covering you in attention.

Being in bed together, covered, while he hugs you from behind is the closest thing you can get to heaven

【Singed】

He wouldn’t be too worried, but you can’t blame him, he’s used to things worse than two drops of water.

He’d look up at you, moving his gaze away from his bakers and test tubes to make sure everything is okay, making room for you next to him.

"Something wrong?" the voice is hoarse and low, almost relaxing in its uniqueness.

he puts his vest on your back to cover you as much as possible to warm you up a bit and take off with his thumb a few drops of rain caught between your eyelashes

You know he’s working and he’s busy, and that attention he gives you while his hands are extracting the drug is enough to make you smile.

From time to time he caresses your cheek, while your head rests leaning against the work surface, with the back of his hand, as if to tell you that he is not ignoring you.

You take the opportunity to close your eyes and rest a bit, trying to focus on the noise of glass and the metal that gently clinks.

"Will you tell me about it?"

After a while he stops and looks at you, devoting all his attention to you.

He’s not a talkative man, but he’s a man of science. And when he puts everything on the table, leaning his back against the wall to be able to look at you better you know that he is expressing how important you are.

【Jinx】

perplexed, but amused

"awww, did you go for a walk in the rain?"

It is not a problem if you make the floor wet, but she gives you a signal to not to approach the stationary shovels that act as a bridge to avoid unpleasant accidents.

A lot of questions about why you were out, what the rain was like today, what it tasted like.

She feels enthusiastic even though her fingers are busy tightening bolts and attaching cables.

When you crouch on the sofa next to the creepy dummy, she turns to look at you, you can’t tell the expression, but she throws the device into the void, letting it explode as she approaches.

She doesn’t ask questions, she’s the first one who doesn’t know how to express what’s going on. Jinx just bends over so her face is lower than you, hands on her knees, and tilts her head as she looks into your eyes.

And she is so tender in that moment that you wish you could take a picture of it.

She takes old clothes or rags and sits on your lap, wiping your hair with a playful act, similar to what her sister did with her when they came back from a mission drenched to the bone.

You can’t help but smile as you see her concentrated expression, her incisors exposed by her lips and her tongue between her teeth

She is not good at words, her comfort is physical contact. She would remain embraced by you playing carelessly with your clothes

【Vi】

If it’s her standing in the rain, there’s no problem. She also enjoys the feeling of the rain on her skin as if it could wash away all the guilt she has taken.

But the moment you’re soaking wet, the situation changes.

Vi takes off her leather jacket to put it on your head while you run for shelter, and j

keeps an eye on you, ready to support you if you lose your balance because of the wet roads.

found a shelter keeps you to herself, makes you lean with the head on her shoulder and carelessly stokes your waist

from time to time she takes your hands between of hers and blows on them to warm them up, waiting for the rain to diminish before going home.

holds you closer to herself when she hears thunder or the light of lightning fills the shelter, an instinct that has not lost and probably will never lose.

Once you’re home, she’ll make you undress immediately to wash your clothes, no matter how much you try to reassure her that you’re okay or that you don’t need to, she’ll just give you a scolding look before continuing.

She’s a hundred percent quiet type to cuddle in bed while the storm is raging outside.

If you’re afraid she holds you, falling asleep holding your hand

【Sevika】

She is the first to come home always wet or dirty, so she probably wouldn’t even notice

but as soon as he sees the clothes sticking to your skin she frowns perplexed

"Did you want to take a shower?"

She throws you a towel or something with which you can take the damp off you while she carries an ashtray, two glasses and a bottle of liquor on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

She comes from an environment where you cannot be weak in any way, and everything that is not about something concrete is out of her reach

Sevika sits down and makes room for you on the sofa.

If you’ve just been caught unprepared by the bad weather you drink and talk about more and less, while a hand on your thigh rubs it loosely.

But if something bothers you, she won’t force you to talk about it. Silence isn’t awkward, it’s just an intimate way of communicating.

And if the alcohol makes you want to tell her what’s wrong she will listen to you in religious silence staring at the amber liquid in the glass; she does not touch neither cigarettes nor liquor until you are finished

bonus: if you tell her that someone has wronged you, don’t worry that the rain will not stop her from getting up immediately to go and... “talk to them”.

【Mel】

As soon as you show up wet as a drowned rat, she call off the servants, telling them to prepare a hot bath, dinner and the bedroom.

You see her thinning her eyes and crossing her arms to her chest, looking like she’s waiting for an explanation.

It’s not as hard as it may seem, in her work she learned that you have to first assess the situation well and then act accordingly,

for this reason she wants to understand if it was just carelessness (and turn a homicidal look that will make you burst out laughing because you know that she behaves like this because she loves you)

or if there was a problem.

You see her play imperceptibly with her ring, she knows she can always be little present and the fear of making you feel neglected or not enough consumes her, but she cannot show it or say it explicitly.

It must be said that he is not a person who accepts not receiving answers, if Mel understands that you do not want to talk about what happened she softens the tone approaching, a hand on your cheek precedes her lips, her warm breath on your skin.

She’d find a way to get you to talk, more than out of curiosity because she needs to know if it’s a problem she can solve it.

she would feel guilty anyway, because she did not notice before the fact that you were having troubles, regardless of whether the problem concerns her or not

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thewickedmerman · 2 years ago

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Winx Club Headmasters

I finally got around to doing some of the teachers from the three magic schools.

Faragonda

Lets address the elephant in the room here. YES, I racebent Faragonda. Why? Mostly because of how my fan-cast to voice Faragonda in an ultimate dub of the series is Toks Olagundoye, who you will recognize as the voice of Mrs. Beakley from the 2017 reboot of Ducktales and the voice of Mel Medarda from Arcane. I basically just took the rich old lady from The Aristocats, Madame Adelaide and racebent her. Plus, nothing wrong with a black fairy-godmother figure, as Whitney Houston has proven in Cinderella lol. I REALLY love how she turned out. Her hair was a MAJOR pain to do but I love it. I especially love her fairy form. In my version, once a fairy gets to a certain age, they leave behind their Enchantix and get a form called Ethearix. Besides, we ALL want some older fairies. I did take inspiration from Morgana's fairy form (Since Morgana and all the characters introduced in season 4 onward don't exist in my version). What's Faragonda the fairy of? Quintessence! She basically has power over life-force, lightning, and being able to give life to inanimate objects. Pretty much what it is in W.I.T.C.H. I actually got the idea of her being the fairy of quintessence from my pal @tiredcloudd (Whose stuff you should check out because it's amazing and they are really talented) when we were discussing our own Winx canon on the private Union of War Discord server. So I have them to thank for this. Also, her and Griffin are a couple in my version.

Griffin

I had A LOT of fun with editing for Griffin because I feel like darker characters a lot more fun design-wise. YES, I did use Maleficent for her face but I also gave her the eyes of The Evil Queen from Snow White. I made her the witch of oracle magic. She doesn't really see the figure but can summon vectors of magic and do some powerful magic. I thought of that because of The Owl House and how Griffin was able to play mind games with the Winx Club back in season 1. I took inspiration for her witch form from @taiyoooh.

Griselda

Out of all three of the professors I've redesigned so far, Griselda was definitely the biggest pain in the ass to design, at least for her fairy form. I mean, Griselda seems like someone who wouldn't actually be a fairy. She seems more like she'd be a witch or a sorceress. I made her a mind fairy, because that's one of the few interesting things that Fate: The Winx Saga did. However, she can do offensive attacks as well. I also love the idea of that being her way of knowing whenever someone is up to something. She's the queen of detention for a reason. For her fairy form, I got rid of her glasses and replaces them with glowing eyes. Her hair is full of barrette thingies that look like brains because she is a mind fairy. For her outfit, I took inspiration from Nebula from season 4 but made it more conservative looking. I had to make sure the colors were more subdued compared to other fairy forms because it's Griselda and that also meant NO SPARKLES. Hell, the only makeup I gave her was purple lipstick because she's not the type to wear makeup at all. I love the way she turned out. Also, pants suit her better than a dress. Her fairy form was an absolute NIGHTMARE to work on. You have absolutely NO IDEA! Also, just imagine the voice of Mindy Sterling (Who played Ms. Briggs from iCarly and was the voice of Lin Beifong from The Legend of Korra) coming out of this character. PERFECTION!

Saladin

Well, I finally got around to posting my redesign of the last head of the three major magic school, Headmaster Saladin. He is also the grandfather of Helia (Even though the original show NEVER actually does anything with that) and in my version, I would actually do something with that. Considering in my version of season 2, part of Helia's story arc was gaining his Believix by learning to stop holding back his true potential anymore. Helia was sent to Red Fountain instead of a fairy school like Alfea so that his grandfather could help him. This also means that Saladin is also East Asian, which I wanted to show with his attire, which includes his Sorcerer form. While his regular form is in more Earth-tone colors, his sorcerer outfit does have more color too it with the white, gold, and purple.

Credit for the character base for Griffin goes to SelenaEde of DeviantArt

Credit for the character base for Griselda goes to Lady-Angelia-13 of DeviantArt

Credit for the wings goes to Feeleam and WinxClubRus both from DeviantArt

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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

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Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…

@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!

Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈

He doesn’t look like a demon.

Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.

He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.

Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.

He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.

“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”

You nod.

“And you don’t want to be.”

You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.

“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.

Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.

“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.

Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.

Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.

‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?

You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.

“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”

You swallow. “How long do I have left?”

“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“

“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”

“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”

Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”

“Simple enough. What else?”

‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”

Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”

“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.

Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.

Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.

“Ow?” You wince.

The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”

He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—

“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”

Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.

“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.

“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.

…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”

“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”

The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”

“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”

Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”

This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.

Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”

Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.

You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”

“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.

Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.

“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.

Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”

“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”

“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”

You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”

At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.

He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.

“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.

Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!

“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.

Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”

You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.

“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.

“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.

This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.

You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).

“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.

“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—

you stop breathing.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.

No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.

“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”

“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.

You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”

Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.

“Not here.”

“What—?”

You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…

Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.

Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.

Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.

You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?

You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”

“You should know this place.”

And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“

“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.

The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.

“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”

“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.

“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”

The…promise?

A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”

“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”

A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.

“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.

///

Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.

Of course it wasn’t just a ring.

Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.

“Look at me.”

And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.

“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.

“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.

He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”

Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.

A good girl wouldn’t like this.

Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…

“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”

Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…

But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.

You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.

“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…

And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?

It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.

“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”

“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“

“Then look at me.”

It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.

Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.

Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.

“Does it hurt?”

A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“

“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.

And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”

This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—

and it doesn’t hurt anymore?

You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“

The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”

“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”

“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.

You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.

“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”

“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”

“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”

“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.

“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!

And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.

You didn’t know it was like this.

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:

because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?

///

It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.

What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.

Overhaul’s still here.

He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.

You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”

“Yes—”

At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.

“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”

“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.

Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.

So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.

It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”

He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.

When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.

“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #tw dubcon #tw sacrilege #tw christianity #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero imagines #boku no hero fanfic #smut

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melonlthawne · 3 years ago

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baby thad needed to be pulled off of wallys face and he'd continue to fight whoever held him until meloni held him and he just. stops moving and blankly stares like stunned kitten

Wally wasn’t a very superstitious man. However, after being tasked with babysitting probably the most feral baby known to man, he was starting to have some challenging thoughts. Wally was sitting across from Thaddeus, who was giving him the dirtiest stink eye a baby was capable of. How could a creature weighing 16 pounds contain so much evil? Furthermore, what kind of magic was Meloni capable of to keep this little monster in check?

Anytime Meloni went off to do an errand or was preoccupied with something, someone else had to watch over Thad. Which would be fine if he was your run of the mill kid. But he wasn’t. Especially if you had to hold or physically touch the kid for more than 5 seconds. He would thrash, kick, and bite anyone who had to touch him, including Iris, which was crazy since Bart was Thad’s identical twin and Bart melted like butter in the presence of Iris. But even his heavenly aunt couldn’t handle the demon that was Thad.

Wally was lucky enough to be the person Thad was bestowed upon. He had been staring at the baby for maybe an hour now, contemplating if he should do something or not. He decided to test his luck and came closer, poking Thad in the tummy to see his response.

The baby glared at Wally and as Wally’s hand made contact with Thad’s stomach, Thad batted the man’s hand away, swatting at it viciously until Wally gave in and retracted his hand away.

“You are so feisty. Do you even realize how small you are ? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried. Which, by the way, why do you hate me so much? I mean there’s gotta be a reason.” Wally narrated. Thad just stared back at him with a huge pout and angry eyes.

“Alright, don’t believe me? Let’s see something.” Wally reached over and plucked Thad up from his spot to hold him. Thad frantically looked around like a scared animal but the fear was quickly replaced with rage as Thad began squirming in Wally’s grip, kicking and punching at the man’s face repeatedly whether or not it was actually doing anything.

“Hey! Knock it off!” Wally yelped, trying to pull him away but Thad managed to get a grip of the man’s curly hair and continued his frenzy of beating Wally up. This went on for at least 3 minutes until the door opened up behind them both revealing Meloni who had just gotten back and quickly caught wind of what was happening.

The moment Mel closed the door and looked towards Wally, she sprung into action and pulled Thad off Wally’s face, holding him tightly so he couldn’t reattach himself to the speedster.

“Thaddeus! You cannot do that!” Mel exclaimed, repositioning Thad so that he could look at her. Now relinquished from Wally, Thad hung there limp with big eyes, looking like a stunned kitten.

“How come he doesn’t attack you..?” Wally sighed, feeling his face for new scratches that Thad had given him.

“Still trying to figure that out.” Meloni chuckled, sighing afterwards. Thad was clearly over his bad mood, pacified by being held by Mel and just slumped against her shoulder, staring blankly at them both.

#thaddeus thawne #meloni allen #meloni thawne #wally west #the flash #inertia #flash fam #flash family #au #I had fun writing this dudjdjdj #baby tag #my writing

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ilovebeing-weird · 4 years ago

Text

Have a Coffee

Chapter-3

Chapter-1 Chapter-2

So, people who like angst. There won't be much angst here. I hate it! There would be hurt/comfort at best. This is going to be a fluffy story. And if I get anything wrong in the airport scenes, it's because idk how they work. Never been to an airport.

"Flight 204, to New York, from Air France will leave soon. Passengers please board the plane. Flight 204....." The voice was heard from the speakers

"Queenie, it's our flight. Let's go." Marinette called Chloe, who was busy fighting with a person, because he didn't recognise her and it's 'ridiculous, utterly ridiculous'

"Hmph, you better keep up with the celebrities. I am the Chloe Bourgeois. The only daughter of Style Queen, Audrey Bourgeois. The person who has her own amazing business. The best friend of cocci-"

"Chlo!" Mari put her hand to prevent her from speaking more than necessary. "Our flight, let's go."

"Oh"

"Je suis désolée Monsieur." (I am sorry sir)

"C'est bon." (It's okay)

"Let's go Chloe."

"I can't wait to go to New York! It's gonna be sooo much fun! I am so excited" Adrien squealed heading towards his seat

"When are you not excited?" Kagami asked rolling her eyes at her boyfriend's behavior

"Don't put your cloudy shade over my sunlight." Adrien said dramatically, in response Kagami again rolled her eyes.

"If you think I am such a rain cloud, why are you dating me?"

"Because I love you, Duh!"

Kagami's face went as red as a tomato.

"Aww, you're blushing!"

"No, I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I am not."

"Yes-"

"Guys as cute as you are, can we just please move." Luka said moving to his seat

"Sorry Lukes."

"Luka-bear, window seat is mine."

"I know Bee."

"Mari, you get the aisle seat. And Lu you'll have to sit in the middle." Chloe pointed to everyone's seat

"Yes Queenie!" Marinette saluted

"Perfect, now I will sleep for hours, I need my beauty sleep after all. If I will get dark circles it will be ridi-"

"RIDICULOUS, UTTERLY RIDICULOUS" All of them yelled

"Melody, your soul mark is in English, right. Maybe you'll find your soulmate here."

"Oooooh"

"Yeah, probably. My luck is not that good though."

"Don't lose hope yet Marinette, who knows maybe something good will happen."

"Maybe"

"The flight is ready to take off, passengers please wear their seatbelts. The flight is ready to…"

"I think we should get seated." Kagami took her seat "And Mars, don't worry, you will find your soulmate soon. It's destiny."

"You're right. It's destiny."

They all got seated, and Marinette was dying from lack of her coffee.

"I need my coooooffeeeee."

"No, sleep."

"Coffeeeee."

"Mel, for the last time, Sleeeeep!! Please."

"But I don't wanna. I have work-"

"That can wait. I am sure your clients will understand. And even if they won't I am sure you're ahead of your schedule." Marinette opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, it happened for a good three minutes before she gave in.

"......fine."

"Good"

"but you are working as my mannequin later."

"If it gets you to sleep."

"Why are you obsessed with making me sleep?"

"Because I care." Came his soft reply.

~After 5 hours~

"Marinette~ Where are you?~" A maniacal voice was heard

"Marinette! Answer me before I come there! Guess I will have to teach you another lesson!"

"Why don't you just die, you stupid piece of shit?" A punch

"Why are you even alive?" A kick

"You're nothing more than a waste of space." A push and marinette fell to the ground

"Nobody ever loved you, and nobody ever will! You don't even have a soulmate!" Marinette tried to say something, deny it, tell them that she had one, but she couldn't "And your "friends" they just hang out with you for pity!"

"I can't even believe I was friends with you!"

"You're nothing more than a jealous bully!"

She tried to do something, anything! But she wasn't able to, it was almost like she was bound by an invisible force.

"I hate you! I can't believe I was besties with you! You are just a liar and a bully!" Another kick, it didn't hurt. Not more than their betrayal.

"Asshole!"

"Bitch!"

"Slut"

"Waste of time!"

She sat there, listening to them. All of their insults, she didn't care. Not anymore.

"Guess I will have to put an end to it all, huh? I feel sad, you were a good playtoy." Her da-, no Mr.Dupain said, and the knife came down, she was screaming but no sound came out

"Marinette!" Huh? She didn't die?

"Marinette!" Adrien, she recognized the voice

"Marinette!" Marinette woke up with a shock

"What happened?"

"You were screaming and thrashing in your sleep."

"Oh, I had a nightmare." Adrien wiped her tears, she'd been crying? She didn't know.

"Wanna talk about it?" No she didn't, it will make it all real. It would bring flashbacks and she would have a panic attack.

"Not really." It was good that Adrien respected her wishes and didn't push it. "How long till we reach?"

"Uh, it's been five hours, so I am guessing three hours more. You wanna eat something?"

"N-" Adrien cut her off

"You know what? You do want to. You will obviously deny it, but I am not gonna let you starve."

"Why are you all like this?"

"Like what? So caring and such good friends? You deserve it."

"I hate you, each one of you."

"Aww, you know you love us! You looove us"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Mari rolled her eyes. She knew she loved them, they knew she loved them. They all loved each other, platonically obviously. But, there was a part of her which always wondered if they hung out with her just because they pitied her. They wouldn't do that, right?

Would they?

Finally almost eight hours passed, she had eaten and now she was working on some new designs while her friends slept peacefully.

"There has been a technical issue, the flight would land right here, in Gotham. Passengers are required to please wear their seatbelts and not panic."

WHAT!? The flight had to make an abrupt stop at Gotham at all of places, the fucking CRIME CAPITAL!! Oh no, oh no, OH HELL NO! This is a disaster, this is a disaster, a disaster. Wasn't luck supposed to be on her side? Did the miraculous mean nothing?

She quickly wore her seatbelt and checked all of her friends' too before waking them up.

"Umm, guys, there has been a technical issue, the flight's gonna land now, so you may wanna wake up." It didn't work, the formal and polite option didn't work "GUYS WAKE UP! THE FLIGHT'S GONNA LAND RIGHT NOW IN GOTHAM!" That worked! It jolted awake all of them.

"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!!"

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"In the fucking crime capital?!"

"Maybe it is destiny." Marinette gave Luka a weird look that said 'are you crazy or something?'

"Maybe you will find your soulmate here."

"Of fucking course. In the crime capital. Maybe my soulmate is a criminal too, huh?"

"Don't be such a pessimist Mari, there are good people too in Gotham."

"So any idea what we wanna do?" Marinette asked once they were out of the plane.

"Let's order a cab to New York?"

"Yeah, let's do that. Let me check the cabs… There's no cab available for where you wanna go….. " Blood drained from Adrien's face as he read that.

"So, we are forced to stay in Gotham?"

"Kinda"

"Well what should we do now?" Luka gained their attention

"Let's go shopping!!" Chloe, obviously, cheered "Before either of you deny, Kags, you need new clothes, no offense, but you really have a bad fashion sense. Luka-bae, I need you to carry my bags. Adri-kins, Kags need you. And Mari-bear, you have a good fashion choice." Luka and Adrien sighed, guess they have to carry their bags forever.

"I don't know Chlo, I really need some coffee and have to do some work. I guess I will go to a café instead." Marinette said sheepishly

"Hmm, if you say so." Marinette was genuinely surprised that she let her off the hook. Usually she would be dragged with them. "You can send us your location and we'll meet you there in two hours?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Okay, bye, don't have a overdose~"

"Bye queenie!"

"Now let's find a café with an internet connection and quiet environment." She quickly searched all the café near her, fortunately the nearest café was within walking distance.

She walked for ten minutes before she reached the café "coffee and joy" apparently this café has amazing coffee and the batfam, mostly Red Robin, always comes here. The atmosphere was good, not too crowded but enough for it to be good.

She walked inside, it was good. As soon as she walked in she was greeted by the fragrance of coffee. The circular tables had plants on the side, couples were talking and chattering. There were families enjoying themselves, and a person who was typing away on his computer, huh, he almost looks dead. Well, who was she to judge, she was sure she looked the same while she was working.

She went to order. The workers there were happy and cheery. Weird, this is Gotham. Aren't people supposed to be gloomy and annoyed here? Well, Paris, the supposedly city of love, the people there are--the ones she knows the rest she is sure are good--are evil. She is not even exaggerating.

"Hi! How can I help you today?" The worker, she learnt the name was Sam, asked her.

"Hey can I get a black coffee with…..eight espresso shots? thank you!" The worker looked shocked, obviously anyone would be shocked if someone ordered this much caffeine. She muttered something that she couldn't quite make out but it sounded like 'there's three of them' . What did she mean by three of them? Eh, whatever.

"What name should I write on the cup?"

"Marinette." Marinette, the only reminder of her fam- the people she lived with. The name that was given to her by her grandma that she loves dearly. At Least her grandparents are good people.

"Okay, why don't you wait and I will call you?"

"Sure" She went to the table in the corner. So she would not grab any attention but will be able to go to the counter easily when called.

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

Tim was having a sucky day. Firstly, he was almost late to the meeting because Bruce thought it was good to let him sleep in. Fuck you Bruce! I don't need to sleep. Then Alfred banned coffee. Why? Because apparently he had a little too much coffee. Thirdly, his brothers were still obsessed with making him sleep, he already slept last night!

"Ughhh" Tim groaned, luckily his favourite café was just around the corner. He would go and grab some coffee there and work in peace.

Upon entering the café he was greeted by the sweet fragrance of coffee. Oh, how much he loved it. If he didn't find his soulmate he would marry coffee. Bruce wouldn't have a problem, right?

"Hey Sam!" Tim greeted the always cheerful barista

"Hey Mr. Drake. Your usual?"

"Yep."

"It will be ready soon!"

Thanking her Tim made his way to his usual table and took out his laptop to go over the meeting details. After a minute or so grabbing his coffee and feeling alive again Tim started working on the documents. He was so lost in his world that he didn't realise someone coming in. Only when her name was called did he realise that.

Out of curiosity, Tim looked at her, and what he saw was something he would remember forever. That woman was beautiful. He knew that it was wrong, he knew that he had a soulmate, he knew he should wait for them wherever they are, but he also knew that he felt a connection with her, he also knew that he had to take his chance. So that's what he'll do.

Waiting for a while to gather some courage and thinking about what to say. He started to make his way to her. Only to be stopped by her sad expression, she was angry, mostly sad looking at her laptop. Huh, looks like she's not having a great day. He decided that he will go to her with coffee, after all what was something that coffee couldn't solve. He ordered two coffees for them, he knew that her order was the same as his.

He took a deep breath and made his way across the café to her and offered her the beverage in his hand. "Having a rough day?"

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

Marinette was relieved that she got her coffee. She hasn't had any since morning. Why does the world have to be sooo unfair to her!? Opening her laptop she found some new commissions…..and some emails from her old class. Can they just suck it and move on? How childish can anyone be.

She knows that she shouldn't be but she was sad looking at it. She was just about to delete them when a voice startled her.

"Having a rough day? Have a coffee, It will make it better." Marinette being Marinette jumped at the voice.

"Ahh! You scared me! Wait a second….. You are my soulmate! Thanks for the coffee by the way." As soon as their hands touched there was a golden glow around them, a welcoming glow.

"Hey, soulmate. I am Timothy Drake-Wayne please call me Tim."

"Hey Tim, I am Marinette. Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Marinette." Tim kissed her knuckles to which she responded by blushing.

@legodetectivemalsblog

#have a coffee #timinette #timari #soulmate au #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #tim drake #weird writings

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scathecraw · 3 years ago

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BBRae Week 2021 - Day 3: Into The Woods

“Summer camp has been so much fun, Rachel. Teether hasn’t cried once since the day after you dropped us off, and Tommy got first place in the obstacle course. You were right, we should have done a camp last year, too.” Melvin chattered excitedly on the office phone while Rachel listened patiently. “They’ve made a bunch of arts and crafts, and the woods here are so cool. They’re really old, and Gar knows so muchabout all the trees and animals and bugs.”

“And who is this Gar, Melvin? A new friendof yours?” Rachel’s emphasis was obvious, and Melvin’s blush was practically audible.

“NO! He’s a counselor. He’s really nice, but he’s really old. Like, 50 or something. You’ll meet him on parent’s day next week.”

Rachel didn’t remember anyone older than the director, a middle aged woman she had spoken to when getting them enrolled and again during drop-off. She suspected Melvin was fibbing to cover her embarrassment, but she brought it on herself by teasing the preteen. “I’m sure I will. Does this mean that you’re going to drag me out into the forest when I come? I thought it was going to be an afternoon of arts and crafts and then some campfire songs, not a forced march.”

“Duh. Arts and crafts are lame. Gar said that next year he’d show us how to whittle, which sounds better than making lanyards.” There was muffled adolescent shouting, and Melvin covered the receiver and yelled back. “I gotta go. We’re going swimming. I’ll call you on Friday. Love you, bye.” She hung up before anything could be said back, and Rachel was left with dead air while Melvin sprinted after her friends, untied shoelaces flailing behind her.

Arriving at the aforementioned “Parent’s Day”, Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The camp had at first seemed like a good way to get the three adopted children outside instead of rotting their brains, but the sheer noise of a few dozen milling, clamoring kids and groups of socializing parents made her wonder what she had subjected them, and by extension, herself, to. She was late, which probably didn’t help the situation, but she looked around the chaos in an effort to find her own three chaos engines. Instead, she was spotted.

A wild, dirty missile made a high-volume impact with her legs, nearly toppling her and babblingso fast that even Rachel’s practiced ear couldn’t discern what he was saying. She was wobbling and about to fall over when a firm hand caught her upper back and helped her regain her balance. “Teether, dude! I said you could go get her, not try to body slam her.”

Rachel finally planted her feet, acknowledged Teether with a gentle hand on his head, and looked up. And up. They both froze for an instant, but the tanned, blond man recovered first. His slack jaw snapped into a smile, and he said “Hi. You must be Rachel. I’m Gar, one of the counselors here.”

His hand was still on her back and heat radiated from it like afternoon sun. Her face had never fallen into the silly expression his had, but unconscious thought raced before she could regain her composure. ‘Definitely not fifty,’ she thought. “Hello. Yes, I’m Rachel, Teether’s mother.” She peeled Teether from her leg with practiced ease, and he sprang off of her and ran.

Gar realized that his hand still rested behind her, almost possessively, and retreated to a more respectable distance. He chuckled, nervously. “Heh. Um, Melvin and Tommy are with their friends, still, but we should probably get them. Ms. Waller asked me to show you around – she said you had just moved to the area?” It wasn’t a question, but he phrased it like it was. They began walking back towards the milling crowd of parents, children, and quite possibly enough noise to drown out a jet engine.

“Yes, it’s our first summer here. She mentioned that most of the kids made this an annual activity, but I didn’t think we’d be so strange as to warrant a personal detail.”

“Oh it’s nothing like that, it’s just that there’s not really many other summer camps around, and ‘cause we go from K-12, we get pretty much everyone. A lot of the other parents already know everybody. You’re not strange, just… new.” His eyes never left her, even as they began walking.

Back with the crowds, Melvin and a gaggle of similarly aged girls watch the two of them. One of them nodded decisively and turned to Melvin. “Okay. They’re too cute together. Look at how awkward they’re being.”

Anotherhuffed a little. “They’re just staring at each other. They should be holding hands or something, right?”

Melvin’s eyes narrowed critically. “It’s been like 10 minutes and they aren’t kissing yet. Gar’s probably too much of a nerd to do anything. We need to do something to make sure they know how perfect for each other they are.”

“Like what? They aren’t going to start making out in the middle of the crowd.”

An evil smirk crept across Melvin’s face. “Maybe not in the middle of the crowd, but what if they were all alone in the woods? Then they’d have no excuse not to!”

A look of awe crossed her companions’ faces. “That’s evil. I love it.”

But the smirk fell, half-formed plot evaporating. “But how could we get them out there alone? It can’t be anything serious, or else Rachel will ground me forever, and I bet she won’t even go unless we can trick her into it.”

“Could you just tell her you feel sick?”

“No.” Melvin shook her head slowly. “Then she’d either stay with me or just take me home early.”

One, heretofore silent, chimed in. “I think I know what we can do. But Mel, you’re going to have to make a lanyard.” She giggled at the disgusted look, and said “C’mon, we only have like 15 minutes before they start wondering where we are.”

Across the crowd and a million miles away, Garfield and Rachel were, in fact, being tremendously awkward as they watched the kids run and play. Gar fumbled his words and couldn’t decide to stare at her eyes, the curve of her neck, or decidedly anywhere except her. Rachel was the opposite. She answered in short, monosyllabic whispers and swallowed, trying to ease her desperately dry throat.

“So, uh, you said you just moved here! Do you have a job, er, of course you do, unless you don’t! That’s fine, too! Nothing wrong with… that. Yeah.” He trailed off, before gamely trying again. “So what do you do when you’re not, y’know, coming to summer camps?”

Rachel took a deep breath and centered herself. Gar started. “I’m not, like, annoying you, am I? I’m sorry, I tend to blabber -”

“No. I’m just… a little off-kilter. I’m a curator of antiquities at the museum.”

“That is so cool. Gar’s eyes were like dinner plates. “I love the museum! I always wanted to volunteer there, but I never feel like I have time between summers here and planning classes during the year.”

“Oh, you’re a teacher? Grade school or high school?”

“High school and occasionally some classes at the community college. I figured I was already teaching AP and college bio isn’t much different. I’m sure the kids get tired of me after the sixth year, though, heh.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, uncomfortably warm even for a summer afternoon.

“I suppose they wouldn’t let you teach so many years if you weren’t good at the job. Not that biology is my area of expertise.” She clarified, hearing his unspoken question. “I studied history and preservation, so a natural history museum is certainly a big change.”

“Wow, I bet. Still, nobody does what they expected to when they were in college. I got a bachelor’s in Environmental Science, but it turns out most of those jobs are just telling corporations what they want to hear.”

Rachel leveled him with a newly assessing gaze. “Believe it or not, so are quite a few jobs in archaeology. It’s what put me off of the field.”

“But hey, teaching led me to Jump and to Lake Titan Camp, so I can’t complain.”

While the two nominal adults conversed, a far more intricate conversation was happening in the craft cabin. Kole, a pink haired co-conspirator of Melvin’s, was creating a half finished lanyard in pink and purple while the rest strategized. “Okay, so I need to throw her off so she’ll agree. The pink and purple color scheme is good – pink for me, purple for her, but I need something to knock her off her game.”

“You could tell her something that surprised her, maybe. But what?”

Realization dawned. “Okay. This is a little mean, maybe, but I was planning on talking to her about it anyway. I know just what to say. Kole, how’s the lanyard coming?”

“I’ve got it to the perfect length. Just long enough that you might ‘Need a little while to finish it, pretty please.’” She held up the dangling lengths of string. “Everything ready? We’re running out of time.”

“Now or never. Let’s go.” Melvin took a deep breath and led them to the doorway.

Garfield and Rachel were deep in conversation. The initial awkwardness had faded, and while there were still sparks flying whenever they made eye contact, it was more a static buzz than the almost painful live wire sensation of their first glances. At some point they had migrated closer to where Teether and Tommy’s two groups had merged into a supercrowd of children all making noise, forcing them to stand closer to one another to be heard. They were in this huddle, all focus on each other except for both of their frequent check-in glances to the children. Rachel had dipped her toe into a hint of vulnerability to test the waters, quietly and without fanfare explaining that she had adopted all three of them from the same orphanage she had found herself aging out of.

Gar reciprocated. “That’s really incredible. I was adopted pretty young by some family friends. I know how complicated that sort of relationship can be, but it’s doing something amazing for all three of them.”

Melvin, seeing their closeness, hesitated, just a bit. She was messing with fate, a little. But she was certain it was for a good cause. And it was now or never, they were already cutting it close to “Shared Activity Time” for her age group. “Umm. Rachel.”

“Yes, Melvin?” Rachel saw that Mel was nervous. Melvin was never nervous.

“I want to finish a project for you, but won’t have time later. So, uh, I need you to find something else to do. During the Activity Time, I mean. I just want to finish making this. Please, M-mom?”

Time stopped for Rachel. She had adopted them six years ago, and there had never been a time when Melvin had consciously called her “Mom”. Forms asking for “Mother’s Name”, sure. Mother’s day celebrations, absolutely. Even a few mostly-asleep, teary pleas, but never, never while Melvin was in control of her faculties.

But while time had stopped for Rachel, it marched onward for everyone else. Melvin held her breath and waited for long, tense seconds, but Rachel didn’t seem to be coming back to her senses, so she hurriedly spat out “Okayloveyouseeyousoon,” and fled back to the safety of her friends.

Gar, too, was frozen. Not to the same degree, nor for the same reasons, but he felt like he had intruded on something intimate that he had no business being a part of. He looked around, helplessly as Rachel gaped. After several seconds of silence, he couldn’t not do something. “Uhh. Rachel? You… okay?” More frozen immobility. He waved a hand in front of her face. “Rae? You there? Do I need to get a doctor?”

She seized his hand. “Did… did she just call me “Mom”? Or did I have a stroke?”

“Yeah, ouch. She did. I’m guessing this was new?”

“I… Yes. She’s never… What… what do I do? Was she angry I didn’t answer? Where did she go?” Rachel began looking around for her.

“Whoa, slow down. She’s with her friends. She wasn’t mad, it seemed like she was nervous, but not scared. And what you do is let her come to you and talk to her like you always do, and just make sure she knows you’re okay with it. As long as you are okay with it, right?”

“Of course. I just thought...” Rachel trailed off.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about! She loves you and just told you how she feels. That’s a good thing. Let’s give her a chance to do whatever she’s doing. The rest of the kids are about to go do an activity, so we have time.”

“I think I need to get away from the crowd for a minute. I can’t believe I’m asking this, but is it alright if we just go for a walk?”

“Of course.” Gar’s grip had at some point shifted to be holding her hand back, and he led her down a dirt path towards a grove of trees. “This path is quiet and not too hard.” Her sudden harsh look had him follow up. “You’re not really wearing the shoes for hiking, Rae.”

“Hmf. And since when did I say you could call me Rae, Garfield?”

He looked stricken. “I am so sorry. I dunno what I was thinking, Ra-chel. Rachel.”

She narrowed an eye. “Rae is… acceptable, as far as diminutives go. Just don’t make a habit of it in public.”

“Cross my heart. Hey, at least being a little mad at me put your mind off of Melvin, right?”

“And now it’s right back. So very helpful,” she deadpanned.

“Easy come, easy go, right?” His smile grew a little. “I don’t wanna pry or anything, but is it really that surprising? She said you were her mom like, a dozen times during camp.”

“I suppose not. It caught me very off-guard, though. Teether and Tommy sort of switch between Rachel and Mom, but Melvin’s never really seemed like she even wanted that sort of, I don’t know, ‘Official’ title for me.”

“Listen, the whole ‘mom’ thing isn’t as scary as you’re making it out to be. You’re already giving her the kind of love a mom is supposed to, and she loves you. She talks about all the time with stars in her eyes. Being adopted doesn’t make her less your daughter. Rita Farr isn’t any less my mom for taking me in when I was eight, and Marie Logan isn’t any more or less important to me just because she’s not around.”

Rachel took a breath and sighed it out. “Thank you. That does make it easier.” They walked in silence for a short time. “Wait, Rita Farr, as in the movie star? As in, the philanthropist and art collector, married to Steve Dayton?”

He blushed a little. “Whoops, probably shouldn’ta dropped that so casually, I guess. Yeah. Steve and Rita adopted me when my parents died. It’s not always easy, but I love ‘em.” He watched her reaction carefully, hoping she wouldn’t suddenly start treating him differently for having such well-known parents.

Rachel schooled her face after having that bombshell dropped on her. “Well, if we ever meet we’ll be able to talk about some historic pieces she has that I wrote papers on.”

A beat passed, then Gar’s loud laugh broke relative silence of the forest. “Aw man, she is gonna love you.”

And just like that, the tension was broken. All the concern, the lack of balance, everything fell away, and the static buzz of easy conversation punctuated by something just a little too close to intimate for an average friendship was back.

They wandered together down the shady paths, miles away and only a few trees distant from the campground. Rachel didn’t notice the distance she had walked on the formerly dreaded forest hike, and Garfield forgot to try quite so hard with his jokes and wise cracks. They walked, hand in hand and only somewhat realizing how close they were to one another, shoulders nearly touching.

The spell was eventually broken, as they always are. They rounded a final bend, seeing in the distance the campground they had left, what, less than an hour ago? And the reality that they had left behind when they entered the sun-shafted canopies woke them up, and they found that really, their hands were quite slick. Had they been clasped together the whole time? And Rachel, especially, was starting to sweat from the heat and the walk. Garfield was suddenly nervous, after all, he never talked this much, not without making a fool of himself.

But even after emerging from that hazy dream, they held on, gently rising out of the fog and into the real world so no sudden movements could disrupt the memory, the closeness that two almost strangers that fit together like complementary puzzle pieces had shared.

It wasn’t even fully dispelled when their hands slipped apart to be wiped on cargo shorts or dark jeans, though the almost hidden flight from behind a few low-branched trees of blonde hair and untied shoelaces and quiet giggle quickly sobered them.

Garfield turned. “Was that -?”

“Melvin. Oh, that little brat, she is too damn smart for her own good. I would put money on her scheming to get us alone.” Rachel fumed and her face tightened into a mask of cold anger. “I can’t believe that she would manipulate me like this! How could she – How could she finally call me -” and the mask broke, shifting from anger to near tears in seconds.

Gar panicked. “Whoa, hold on, no. She’s not that cruel, I know it and so do you. We’re probably missing something. You just said you can’t believe she would do this – she probably didn’t. Rae I promise you, there’s got to be an explanation that makes sense.”

Rachel took a deep breath, followed by another, centering herself. “I am going to get to the bottom of this. Where would she be doing this “project” she made up?”

“The craft cabin. I’ll take you there, but I guarantee you it’s not as bad as it might sound.”

It was like the crowd parted for them without even reacting. No one looked at the worried counselor or at the steely featured parent, but nonetheless they found their path almost unimpeded. Gar held up a hand just outside the door. “Let me get you two some privacy. Please.”

“Fine. Do it.” Terse and unhappy, Rachel’s displeasure was apparent in her voice, and it made Garfield wince.

He opened the door to see five preteen girls, huddled and tittering. At least until they saw him and his serious frown. Then their eyes went wide, and they looked to Melvin in a panic. “Out, girls. Clear the room. Not you, Melvin.” He stopped her when she tried to take shelter in the middle of the pack. He turned to follow them, and glanced back almost pityingly, then shook his head and exited.

The girls all ducked their heads when they saw Rachel just outside the cabin and hurried off, racing to be the first around the corner and away from the ticking time bomb.

Garfield simply nodded, and left her to it. Rachel entered the cabin and saw Melvin almost trembling, and it broke her heart. She had worked up a head of steam on the walk and the wait, but seeing her precious daughter actually afraid stopped any real anger and left only a bitter emptiness.

Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands. She settled on a vague, open armed shrug gesture. “Why, Mel? Was it just a prank? Just a way to manipulate me?”

Tears brimmed in Melvin’s eyes. “No, I just wanted to give you guys a chance to talk alone. I’m sorry I lied, I really did try on the lanyard, but I’m just bad at them so I had Kole do it. I’m sorry, I am.”

“What? What lanyard? Melvin, I don’t care if you had a friend help with a lanyard! I just can’t believe that you would call me your mom, just to trick me into talking to someone. I can’t tell you how badly that hurts me. I… I love you too much for that.”

“What!No, nononono, Mom, I promise that wasn’t a trick. I promise. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I just – I thought that if I – I thought that maybe if I just did it you’d just let me and maybe you’d talk to him and then it everything would be perfect. I promise. I love you, Mom. I do. And I was just trying to maybe make you not spend all your time watching me and talk to him. He’s really cool, and I could tell you like him, and he’s completely in love with you, and you’re perfect for each other. I was just trying to help you be happy!” She sobbed, breathless.

Rachel froze, then instinctively wrapped her daughter in her arms and let her cry. “Mel, you don’t need to worry about me. I am happy, I promise. I don’t need you to try to trick me into being happy. Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to say I’m not mad, but I get it. You don’t have to trick me into talking to, what did you call him, “really old, like 50 years old” guys? If we talk, we talk. That’s how adults work.”

“No, it’s not! I’ve never seen you go on a date, and you just ignore people when they try to talk to you. I know it was dumb, but I had to try something ‘cause otherwise you’d just give him that serious face until he ran away, and he’s perfect for you if you’d just give him a chance!”

“Mel. Mel, okay. I promise. I will give him a chance. But you don’t need to be worried about me. I don’t need a twelve year old playing matchmaker. You should be doing kid things, not bad romcom plots.”

“*SNRK*. They’re not bad. They’re sweet. And you like them, otherwise you wouldn’t have so many of them.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and glowered.

Rachel internally cursed Kori. “If you say so. Now let’s sit here for a minute, then we can go wash your face and you can go hand out with your friends. And I will have a talk with Garfield, and you will not stick your nose into my dating life. Understand?”

“Yes, mom.”

It still startled Rachel to hear that coming from Melvin, but it also warmed her heart. She hadn’t even known she wanted it until it happened, but it was like a spoken guarantee that she really was doing things right, and her little family really was working.

They sat together and Melvin showed her the lanyard that she had made via Kole. Rachel put it on the silver chain she wore around her neck and let it rest beside her heart promising mostly to herself that it would be kept safe at home. Then, when Mel had calmed down, they headed to the bathroom where Mel cleaned the tear tracks from her dirt-smudged face and rinsed her red rimmed eyes. Rachel gave her a final kiss on the forehead, and sent her off.

Gar found her standing there, staring off into space against the wall of the concrete shack. He leaned against it and slid down to sit around the corner and next to her. “So.”

“So,” she said back.

“Not saying it just to confuse you?” He glanced at her, gauging her reaction.

“No. But she wasn’t against confusing me.”

His eyebrow cocked. “Not mad?”

“Still mad. Still going to be grounded, probably. But she did it out of love.”

“Y’know, I don’t want to say I told you so, but...”

“But you totally want to say ‘I told you so,’” she finished for him.

“Yep. So what now?”

“Now, I guess I do what I was going to do before we had all this to deal with,” she said, the soul of nonchalance.

“What’s that?” he said, and when she didn’t respond, he stood up and looked around the corner. “Rae?”

“This.” with only his head around the corner, she turned and kissed him, gentle and sweet, and far too short for either of them. “I’d like to go out sometime. I want to take you to a behind the scenes at the museum, and I’ll let you choose the restaurant.”

His head spun and his eyes were out of focus. His thoughts were like molasses and he could barely get out the word “Okay.” before she was gone, a little bounce in her step.

AO3 FF.net

#bbraeweek21 #bbrae #fic

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laceymorganwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The story of the sad chapter 17

Word count: 1,792

Pairing: Ban x goddess!reader

Warnings: uuuuh swearing, maybe a teeny tiny bit of blood and gore?

A/N: eheheehhe we´re back~ I´ll try to update this at least once a month but I can´t promise anything. thanks for your support

Grabbing your sword, you dashed forward and slashed Hendrickson´s shoulder, though the wound you inflicted didn´t last very long, soon you were followed by your friends, each of you getting a few good hits in.

Though nothing seemed to work, in this state he was invincible and it enraged you.

How dare he use magic as dark as this? Wasn´t he aware of what happened all those millennia ago? Wasn´t he aware of the consequences? What goal could be so great as to forget all about that?

Resurrecting the demon clan to him meant power, but he didn´t think about the source of it, he didn´t think about the fact that they would betray him as soon as they could walk the earth again.

“Leave the rest to us…” Meliodas announced to Elizabeth before joining the fight.

The princess now rested next to Hawk, trying to protect his dead body.

You tried to regain your composure and focus on the fight, trying to make out Hendrickson´s weak points, but he kept attacking you and your friends so that it was almost impossible.

In a flurry of magical blows, Gowther lost his head and glasses, you almost stepped on them, but quickly picked them up to hand them over to him.

Meliodas told all of you to get ready for your big attack.

A smile formed on your lips, finally.

It was time.

All of you got ready to use your strongest attack on Meliodas, so that he could in turn counter them on Hendrickson.

You made it your mission to distract the demon while Meliodas gathered as much magic as he could, using your wings to take him off his feet and slashing your sword at him with full force.

“Tell me, what did you gain from all this? You know, demonic magic might be strong on its own, but you underestimated us! This is the end for you” you called out to Hendrickson, letting him know that he has lost.

It was impossible to dodge or stop Meliodas´ attack at this point.

The shockwave from the attack was so great that it shook the ground, you had trouble staying on your feet and fell against Ban, who caught you.

He smiled at you, even through the chaos and was more than relieved and happy to see you mostly unharmed.

All eyes were on the exhausted Meliodas as Merlin returned with the king, he was better now since she treated him.

You looked around the battlefield, holding Ban´s hand tightly and took in the damage and loss, but also a bitter sense of victory. At least for now.

For now you allowed yourself to smile, to exhale the breath you didn´t realize you were holding, to revel in your boyfriend´s presence and feel the happiness of him being there with you.

In a fit of guilt the holy knights knelt down before the king, apologizing for their sins and asking for his punishment.

You had to chuckle a bit, they were good souls after all. But that was just how the demons liked it, they took the good souls and made them rotten, good souls were easier to corrupt, to bend to their will.

It wasn´t their fault, they simply were taken in by a greater power than them. A power they simply couldn´t defeat by themselves.

The king announced that there would be no punishment and that the knights should repent for their sins in rebuilding the kingdom and working hard.

Then the king faced you and your friends, expressing his gratitude.

“I guess that´s just what we do” you chuckled.

“We can´t help but aid those in need” you stated, smiling at him.

No matter how evil they painted you as, your group were always after helping people.

Elizabeth also got praised for being brave and making this all possible, if she hadn´t searched for your group and wouldn´t have stumbled into your bar, you wouldn´t have been reunited with all the others.

Well, most of them anyway.

The princess started crying, blaming herself for Hawk´s death, while you and Ban went over to his dead body to pay your respects.

He had been with you in those years when you were almost happy, always being there for you and everyone else.

As if by some sort of miracle, the little pig revived, making everyone around you smile in shock and happiness.

You only smiled to yourself and looked over to Elizabeth, she probably didn´t even realize what she just did.

A part of you was glad she didn´t, that meant she didn´t remember anything heartbreaking and utterly sad, but even so… not remembering your one true love was still the worst curse in your opinion.

Everyone cheered and for a moment it felt as if everything was back to normal, whatever that strange state might be.

Elizabeth hugged Meliodas and healed his wounds, once again not comprehending it was her doing.

She reunited with her sister, overwhelmed by everything happening, her cheerfulness knew no bounds.

You leaned against Ban a bit and he laid an arm around you, pulling you closer to him and gently tracing his fingers over your shoulder.

Exhausted you all made your way back to the Boar Hat to rest a bit.

“I just want to sleep… for a week” you groaned as you threw yourself onto the bed.

Elaine giggled.

“But then you´d just miss everything! And we´d miss you” she joined you on bed, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Hm, okay you got a point” you thought out loud, shifting a bit so you were more comfortable to which Elaine jokingly complained.

“You can´t even sit still even when you´re supposed to rest, can you?” she giggled.

“I guess not….it used to be so easy back then. After every battle I´d just sleep the whole day” you reminisced.

It was a nice memory, the bed always felt the softest after a long and hard battle. Returning home meant feeling each and every one of your muscles ache, sneaking out to meet Estarossa for a bit only to have to hurry up the rest of the way so you wouldn´t cause any suspicions.

And nobody would bother you in the day after the battle, it was a peace and quiet you didn´t know anymore.

But it was also one you never wanted to have again.

You much preferred the chaos of your friends, talking with Ban until you both fell asleep in each other´s arms.

“Now you have something to fight for” Elaine smiled and you nodded.

You never gave it much thought back then. Sure, you always thought you did it for your friends, but you didn´t have friends. It was simply your duty you had to fulfill, the expectations that came from leading the army rested heavy on your shoulders, making you more exhausted than ever.

But now you had your friends and love lifting you up, cheering for you, truly. It made you feel so alive, more vibrant than the brightest colors imaginable.

You would always give it your all when it came to protecting your loved ones.

With that thought and a smile on your face you and Elaine slowly fell asleep.

Within the next few days the rebuilding of the capital and everything else that got destroyed was of the utmost importance.

Everyone helped and of course so did you.

It was nice having a routine again, it felt going back to your normal every day life even though you never had anything of the sort.

Though lately you seemed to crave normality.

It wasn´t like your life was bad at any means, it was just that you were sick of fighting.

Elaine and you were on lookout and helped rebuild the roofs and other things in high places, handing the others the things they needed.

Together you worked quite quickly, after all you unfortunately had a lot of experience.

After a while you came down to the ground again and stretched your tired muscles.

“I´ll go see what the others are up to, keep an eye on everything for me, will you?” you smiled and Elaine nodded.

“I hope they´re almost done! The festival is about to start” she reminded you to which you nodded and made your way to the Boar Hat.

As soon as you stepped through the door you could smell Ban´s cooking, making you even hungrier than before.

You exchanged loving smiles and you joined him behind the counter, checking your inventory.

“Mel, we need to stock up soon” you remarked and he nodded.

“Yeah don´t worry about that!” he said.

Gilthunder visited you a bit after you arrived and sat down to talk with Meliodas.

Meanwhile you and Ban sneaked into the kitchen, cleaning up together.

Well, you were cleaning until Ban grinned at you and gently pushed you against the wall, a dreamy smile on his lips and his eyes full of adoration as he closed the distance between you and kissed you passionately.

His one hand gently cupping your cheek, tracing his fingers over your beautiful skin, his other placed on your waist to be even closer to you.

Heaven wasn´t a place, no. It was right here, right now in this moment. With you.

Your lips against his, this feeling of needing air but not wanting it, craving more and more of your touch.

This was truly heaven to him.

You eagerly kissed back and hooked your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss and just enjoying his presence.

If you could you would stay like this forever.

Ban still had the same look in his eyes as he broke the kiss, so focused on you, getting lost in this moment. Nothing else counted right now. It was like the outside world didn´t exist.

“Fuck, I really love you, you know that?” he whispered, his smile never leaving his lips.

Time stopped, your heart jumped out of your chest and stopped at the same time.

Those were the words you both dreaded and wished for at the same time.

And now that he uttered them, you didn´t know what to say.

“You don´t have to say it back right now, I just wanted you to know. Now was the right moment for me and I will wait for yours to come. And if it doesn´t that´s alright too. I would never pressure you into anything. You´re too precious to me” he said and it was in this moment that you knew, though something held you back.

You didn´t like it in the first place, this queasy feeling in your stomach.

Ban laid an arm around you as you two exited the kitchen, celebrating Elizabeth officially joining your party.

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calypsoff2 · 3 years ago

Text

Eleven.

I posted a picture of Chris and I on the beach, it was more of a selfie, and I’m just laid on my front in the sand, I was just generally taking a selfie and Chris horny ass was in the back biting my butt cheek, I took the picture and posted it, it’s kind of funny well. It turned out to be the most liked picture in a day, it’s funny to me and my mother said I need to keep that to myself, no way in hell I’m going to do that, the picture was too good not too, but we are having fun. I am just happy to be child free “Herbert messaged me” Chris said as he came out of the bathroom “saying” turning to Chris “tie it for me” I asked “oh he said my parents are nasty, I goes now who the hell are your parents, he said you two” I shivered as Chris came up behind me to tie the straps on my bikini “yeah I noticed that he calls us parents. He’s stupid, I like this. You look nice” he complimented me “thank you poppa, did I tell you Mel called. I said don’t call, I am busy, I am away with Chris, and I just want to spend time with him, just having fun. She does oh it will be quick, so she called, and she just apologised. She is upset that I am upset with her, like how does that even work, I am upset with her because she never told me shit, I find that to be sly and it is. Now she’s stuck with a baby, he’s a deadbeat” turning to Chris “mhmm he is a deadbeat, Camron commented on my Instagram post, yes he has a page. He put I miss you, I blocked him” Chris is stubborn now “that is up to you but it ain’t his fault his dad is a snake” I know Rylee is going to be asking because he won’t be coming to the house “mark my words Robyn, TJ will propose to Mel” I frowned “you think?” Chris nodded his head “I promise you now he will, he’s going to do it to please her. He says that Mel is lonely, because you have your life in order and she doesn’t, I think he knows she is vulnerable, and he is playing on that. Don’t be shocked if we go home and they are already, only way to stay in the circle. I am being deadass” this is worrying “I don’t want it” I whined out “I know but that’s on Mel, you know that” this is a shit situation, I don’t want my friend hurt either.

I fancy Chris so much; he is so fine. I like it, he is so daddy “so where we going?” Chris asked “well” I dragged out; I mean he doesn’t know we are seeing captain “we are meeting captain” Chris groaned out “why?” He questioned “it bugs me Chris, I still want to know what he meant by vague, he never clarifies, and I want know. I am not going to drop it until he confirms, I can’t get pregnant again to go through a loss again. I can’t do it, you don’t understand Chris how hard it is for me, how draining it is for me to lose babies. Not like it’s early on either, you don’t get it. Yes I have three beautiful girls but losing babies is really getting to me, it’s not easy to just keep trying and it not happening. I refuse to try” I am not even letting it happen either “but he doesn’t know shit, he’s assuming” I shushed him “he knows ok, trust me. My people know shit, my island people do and they are always right. I can’t take it, give me this” Chris is not happy, but I know Chris, he will do it for me and go “it’s just I don’t know, you believe in the evil eye and shit. Just life, take it as it is” here he goes with his mouth “Chris” crossing my arms across my chest as I sat on the bed “tuh! Fine, ok whatever” see I knew he would pull through, he would listen to me of course “you married a Caribbean girl, now you go to deal with it. Acting all brand new with me, boy” Chris rolled his eyes and walked off, he knew damn well I would be seeing captain, I need be relieved of this burden. I feel like shit to be honest; I can always put on a facade but deep down I feel awful. Losing these babies and going back to work and then Chris just acting like it’s nothing, but nobody will understand and especially a man for that matter, he can shrug it off all he wants and act like it’s fine but it’s not for me, he doesn’t get it at all because he is a man.

He’s been a little annoyed that I am making him go to this thing, he didn’t want to go but he is for me. I’ve always kept in contact with him, he doesn’t work there anymore so he’s meeting us at his favourite food place, he’s a lovely man with a heart of gold “this ain’t the usual place” Chris said pointing at the car window, Chris remembers the whole journey there I see “you are right, he doesn’t work there anymore” Chris’ eyes bulged out, like I am crazy “how do you know this?” He asked, I think Chris feels I am crazy, but I am far from crazy. I just feel fed up for the most part, there is a lot going on “because he gave me his phone number and I call him every so often to ask if he is ok, nothing else. He doesn’t actually tell you anything over the phone, he only does it in person and I just want to ask ok” Chris is so moody for what though “why are you mad? It makes no sense” he’s being extra weird about it “because if you don’t hear something you like you’re going to be upset, it will ruin the whole vibe. That is all” taking in a deep breath, Chris isn’t wrong “I am prepared to hear that I can’t give you what you want, I know what you want Chris. But I feel not prepared, I feel I can’t give you it. He said vague and it’s because I can’t, if it is then so it!” I spat “there is always surrogate, that way we know the sex too” waving him off “just be quiet” he never has any sense, he just speaks without thinking “nigga” now he’s annoyed me, forget captain “mhmmm sorry if I offended you, I am just showing you ways, well telling you there is other ways” this husband of mine, nobody else in the world will upset me or annoy me more than he does. But here I am, I adore him, but I won’t let him ruin my mood.

Arriving at the Marguerites restaurant, I said I would meet Captain here. I did say I wouldn’t mind meeting him at his home, but he said no, and for us to come here “thank you” getting out of the car, Captain reminds me of Bravo so much, every time I see him I just get choked up. He is such a good man; I love him for always checking in on me too “Robyn!” I gasped, he is waiting for us outside the restaurant “awww Captain, look at you” I clapped my hands shrieking “you look beautiful, look at you” hugging him close “awww thank you so much, you are the best” Captain hugged me tight “it is so good to see you, so so good princess” I swear I am cheesing so hard right now, moving back from the hug smiling “I love your shirt, look at you” Captain chuckled “Christopher, hello” stepping to the side laughing at my grumpy husband “you not happy to be here, it’s ok I got you” Chris laughed shaking his hand “I am always happy” he is such a liar “come, I have got us a beautiful spot. We can watch the sunset and we can eat lovely food, come follow me” he walked ahead of us, the customers here in the building just stared all wide eyed, I mean I don’t blame them. As soon as they noticed their phones are out, it was quick as we made our way out to the back. Feeling Chris’ hand on my butt, he is close to me as always.

Taking a sip of my wine, I mean it’s wine time of course “how are you Captain, are you well?” Chris asked him “I am blessed Chris; I am here with you both. I am getting old, look at you both” he pointed between me and Chris laughing “are we getting old?” I added “no, you are both getting more beautiful, Robyn more then anything but I am blessed” he is so sweet, he reminds me of what my dad should be. Captain has taken that part from him; he is just the best “how come you not working now, I was shocked when we come here. Retired already?” Captain chuckled putting his head “I am not well, I just want to rest and spend time with my kids” I wish I could meet his kids “I will be honest with you because Robyn to me, she is like my daughter. The sweetest angel, I got cancer and by the grace of god I am still here” my heart skipped a beat “no” I said “it’s all love, you don’t need to worry. We are here” shaking my head feeling the emotions hit me “no, that is so unfair” my voice broke putting my head down, Chris placed his hand on my back “please don’t cry Robyn, it’s ok. I am still here” this is the worst news ever “why the good people” I said through my sobs, this has actually hurt me a lot.

I am a mess now, it had to be this and it’s so unfair. Every good person that I attach myself too I just lose, how unfair is this “you are making me cry” Captain pointed at his heart “you’re a good woman Robyn” he said, shaking my head “by the grace of god I am going to get you to the best hospital, the best. I don’t care, you will have to accept it. You are too good, this is unfair” Captain is so relaxed “no, this is not about me. I have not told you this for you to start paying for my life, to start feeling sorry for me. This is my journey and I see the good in you both, stop being upset. I have lived a good life, I can’t be mad” Captain is smiling so much, him smiling is making me smile “you are always so positive, I wish I was like you” I said “because I take life as it comes and I am sure you were the same Robyn, Barbados. Your happy place” smiling lightly “see, if you lived and breathed in Barbados everyday you would be like me. America is stress, who wants to be there. I am happy so don’t feel sad for me, be happy. Yes, that beautiful smile. How is your friend? Is she pregnant yet?” I groaned out “that is a yes, I saw family for her. Alone though” my eyes widened “we shouldn’t be shocked now” oh Captain is good “she is a good woman too, she deserves better. She is lonely without you; she is at a part of her life where she is behind you. You have moved full steam ahead; she misses her friend. You don’t spend time with her unless she is tagging along, spend time with her as a friend” I breathed out “she has felt lonely since you got married, never mentioned it because she is happy for you but she is wanting your time, stop being busy” I am always busy “how can I stop being busy when I am trying to conquer the world” I chuckled “and you are by being yourself, you need to have time for loved ones. I feel you have a lot of unanswered questions for me, and you sharing that” Captain pointed at Chris’ blunt “you want one?” Chris said in shock “you in Jamaica son, of course” I am still sad to hear about his cancer “we eat and we can discuss” Captain is staring at Chris so hard, it was a little odd “Chris, you are the young man here. And the real Captain, you order for us. I eat anything” I am still judging Captain looking at Chris, he is testing something, it looks like he is “sure, here” Chris passed him the blunt, what is he thinking about my husband.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Chrianna Fanfic #Chrianna Fanfiction

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

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Written In The Stars CXXXI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Right now Val’s fic and mine are screaming ‘Fuck Harry Potter!’ But in entirely different contexts and I love it jsdjsdj -Danny P.S. the Twins’ leaving always makes me cry when I read that.

Words: 4,428

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Fine Line’ -by Harry Styles

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Twins' Farewell.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I need a moment."

"You've been quiet for five minutes."

"Well, I found out my mother used to be a bully," She snapped. "I kind of have a lot to think about!"

Their parents had treated Snape the same way Dudley used to treat her and Harry when they were younger. Not only that, but Harry's mother appeared to hate James with a burning passion. As if that weren't enough, Emily had actively taken part in attacking Snape and threatened Lily with hexing her if she interfered. Harry was holding back information though, and she needed to know what it was.

"What is it?"

"Hmm?" Harry said nervously.

"You have that look on your face. You haven't finished the story.”

"I have."

"Don't lie to me."

She took advantage of his inexperience and forced the memory out.

Mel looked at the fifteen-year-old version of her mother and saw herself reflected on her. She had her eyes, hair (exactly as long as her mother's when she was her age, and it fell in the same elegant fashion). She also had her lovesick gaze, which caused her to realize Emily was head over heels for none other than James Potter.

It was uncomfortable to watch, not only because Matt and Sirius would glance from time to time with a grumpy expression, but also because they were so similar to their parents that it was like looking at a very odd mirror. James was utterly oblivious, he would look at Emily like she was an adorable toddler.

Emily, on the other side, was a lost cause. James would constantly look back at the group of girls that were hanging out by the lake, where Lily Evans was chatting happily. His eyes would light up the same way Harry's used to.

Then she had to witness the look of pleased evilness when they attacked Snape, the way Emily pointed her wand at Lily, ready to attack...

She pulled back abruptly.

"I told you not to do it!" Harry groaned, closing his eyes tightly and pressing his palm on his temple.

"I can't believe she never told me!" Mel exclaimed.

"What were you expecting? 'Hey, you know that boy you're friends with? I used to have a crush on his dad!"

"I don't know!" Mel blushed. "I... Sirius told me my mum had the longest crush on this boy before dating my dad... I never thought it'd be James!"

"I never thought my dad was an arrogant twat," Harry said miserably. "I can't believe Snape was telling the truth..."

"What if..." Mel pushed her hair back, and she grimaced at the thought of doing it in the exact same way her mother used to. "What if Snape tricked you into believing he's telling the truth?"

"How?"

"Well... we can't trust our brains, let alone someone else's! I mean, we treat Malfoy rather badly but we're not bad people, are we? If you were to look at us through his eyes we would look like monsters..."

Harry considered the idea, then shook his head miserably.

"Snape didn't want me to look at the memory, he'd hidden the Pensieve and I was the one who snooped around."

Mel thought back on all those years uncle Lupin never talked about his relation to his mother, how they said she was too young... They had been right, but Mel was old enough now.

"I think," Mel said, standing up and indicating Harry to do the same. "We deserve an explanation."

"But why haven't you got Occlumency lessons anymore?"

"I've told you, Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I've got the basics... He says that if I need help, I can ask Mel," Harry shrugged, avoiding looking up from his parchment.

"Is it true?" Hermione raised her brows in polite surprise.

"Yeah," Mel lied. "We got this under control."

"So you've stopped having funny dreams, Harry?"

"Pretty much," He replied, his face almost completely hidden.

"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you're absolutely sure you can control them!" Hermione frowned. "Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask —"

"No. Just drop it, Hermione, okay?"

"Are you done with the schedules, 'Mione?" Mel asked, trying to change the subject.

"Why are you making studying schedules, exams are ages away," Ron yawned.

"Exams are only six weeks away, Ron," Hermione sentenced.

"They're what, now?" He straightened up on his chair.

"How can that come as a shock?"

"I dunno..." said Ron, "there's been a lot going on..."

"Well, there you are," Hermione handed three identical schedules to Harry, Ron and Mel, "if you follow that you should do fine."

"You've given me an evening off every week!"

"That's for Quidditch practice," said Hermione.

"Yay," Mel said without excitement. Next game she was playing seeker against none other than Cho Chang, so she was starting to feel nervous.

"What's the point?" Ron pouted. "We've got about as much chance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad's got of becoming Minister of Magic..."

"All you need to do is stop the Quaffle from entering the bloody goal posts, how hard can that be?" Mel huffed. "I have to find the smallest little thing against a well-trained seeker!"

"You're well-trained," Ron argued.

"I'm not even close to being at her level—"

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione interrupted.

"What?" Harry gave a start. "Nothing..."

He picked up his Defensive Magical Theory book and Grey jumped onto his lap, Harry barely acknowledged him.

"I saw Cho earlier," Hermione started tentatively, "and she looked really miserable too... Have you two had a row again?"

"Wha — oh yeah, we have," Harry nodded.

"What about?"

"That sneak friend of hers, Marietta," He said.

"Yeah, well, I don't blame you!" said Ron. "If it hadn't been for her..."

The boy went off for several minutes about what an awful girl Marietta was, looking back on it, it was a bit unfair not to warn her about the risks...

Marietta was scared for her family, it was obvious she'd try to do the best for them. People are allowed to change their minds!

Mel was hoping her parents had done the same, otherwise she would have to live with the fact that they were... not the best of people.

‘CAREER ADVICE

All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below...’

The four of them were going through a bunch of pamphlets of different wizarding careers, trying to decide what thing suited them better. Mel was quietly reading the pamphlet on Magizoology when Fred and George sat down between her and Harry.

"Ginny's had a word with us about you," said Fred, putting his legs on the table and kicking pamphlets in the process. "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" Hermione spat.

"Yeah..." said Harry, "yeah, I thought I'd like —"

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?"

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

Hermione looked at him as if she could not believe him to be so thoughtful.

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued, putting an arm around Mel casually. "And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry and the lady can have their chat with Sirius?"

"I never said I wanted to talk with Sirius," Mel raised a brow, giving her wand a light flicker and making the pamphlets go back to the table neatly.

"But you do though," George replied. "You wouldn't miss the opportunity to check on your mum, would you?"

Mel pondered. "I guess not..."

"Yes, but still," said Hermione, "even if you do cause a diversion, how are Harry and Mel supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office," Harry replied matter of factly.

"Erick said that's the only floo line that isn't being watched," Mel nodded.

"Are — you — insane?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Yeah, people keep telling me that," She smiled.

"And how are you going to get in there in the first place?"

"Sirius's knife," Harry said.

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock. So even if she's bewitched the door so Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has —"

"What do you think about this?" Hermione hissed at Ron.

"I dunno," Ron blushed. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"

"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," said Fred. "Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors — We'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office — I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?"

"Easy," George nodded.

"What sort of diversion is it?" Ron frowned.

"You'll see, little bro," said Fred, getting up at the same time as his twin. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow."

"Okay then," Mel sighed. "We'll do it."

"Hey," Harry whispered once everyone was back in their business. "Don't you get uncomfortable with the way Fred treats you?"

"Huh?" She blushed. "Oh! I don't even notice, you know? Yeah, no big deal..."

She hid her face behind the pamphlet, fearful that Harry would insist on asking questions.

"I'm sorry," McGonagall blinked. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'd like to pursue the careers of Auror, Magizoologist," She smiled, "and Unspeakable."

Umbridge (who had been supervising the interviews that day) let out the faintest little chuckled, but they ignored it.

"Miss Dumbledore, are you aware of the work—"

"Yes. I require a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' for the Auror position. They ask for a character and aptitude test as well. I'm aware that they haven't taken any new blood for the last three years, but fortunately, that's the same time I have to finish my studies, so maybe by then, they'll have a spot — As for my character and aptitude test, well, I'll work on that. Moving onto Magizoology: I need to pass Care of magical creatures, Defense against the dark arts, Potions, Herbology and Charms. My weak spot is Herbology, but I'm sure I can catch up. As for the Unspeakable position, well, it's all of the above."

She knew it was ambitious, but Dumbledore had told her she could achieve it with hard work and the proper schedule, and she wanted to believe he was right.

"For two of those you'll need to have a respect for authority," McGonagall stared at her. "Something which I've noticed doesn't come easily for you."

"It's not that I don't respect authority," Mel replied. "I respect you and the other teachers, I respect most of the Aurors I've met, I respect my mother... I just have zero patience with idiots."

"You'll have to accept that some people will know better than you, even if you find them idiotic."

"Well, I respect Snape don't I? I have a solid 'Outstanding' in his class."

She might have been wrong, but she saw the faintest hint of a smile on the woman's face.

"Very well, Miss Dumbledore," She drew out a parchment from Mel's folder and started to write down subjects. "I won't deny it'll be a long time before you get everything you want, but I've seen your abilities and I trust you'll get there—"

"Excuse me," Umbridge spoke. "It's blatantly clear that a Dumbledore, one that's proven to be mentally unstable, has no place in the Ministry."

"Good thing the Unspeakables aren't obliged to respond to the Minister, then," McGonagall replied with disinterest.

"What?" asked Mel and Umbridge.

"Miss Dumbledore, I thought you'd done your research," McGonagall then did show a polite smile. "The Department of Mysteries is a closed ward, they don't talk about their work outside office hours and most certainly they don't talk about it with people who do not belong in their area."

"No one is above the Minister," Umbridge replied with outrage.

"You're quite right about that," McGonagall finished whatever she was writing and folded it. "The Unspeakables work in the basement. You're free to go, Miss Dumbledore."

Mel took the parchment McGonagall was offering to her, but the professor held onto it for a moment.

"Best of lucks," She said, gazing up at Mel through her glasses.

As she slowly made her way to Divination, Fred ran into her, looking more energized than ever.

"All right, Lady?" He smiled.

"Yeah," She said brightly. "McGonagall just approved my future careers, she says I have a good chance to do them all!"

"Nice! Are you ready for what's coming?"

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" She asked.

Fred had told her this was it for him and George, they wouldn't stay to get detention or being officially expelled. They were planning to run away, and Mel was dead worried.

"I'm brilliant," He smiled. "Everything's okay. Especially between us — I promised, didn't I? I'm keeping my word, and I promise to write as soon as I'm safe —"

"No!" Mel said. "Umbridge goes through our mail..."

"Don't worry, just leave it to us."

He started to walk away and Mel did too.

"Mel?" The boy called right before she left the hall, the girl stopped and turned to look at him. "Don't waste your chances."

Harry and Mel made their way to Umbridge's office as soon as they heard explosions at the far end of the school. They crouched in front of the fireplace and threw floo powder in the centre, the flames surrounded their heads.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Harry said out loud.

She closed her eyes until the feeling of being pulled forward came to a stop.

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

However, when Mel opened her eyes she saw her uncle.

"Mel! Harry! What are you — what's happened, is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just wondered — I mean, I just fancied a — a chat with Sirius."

"I just want to know how my mum's doing," Mel replied clumsily.

"I'll call them," said Lupin. "He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again. Emily's having a nap, she takes lots of those lately..."

"Is this really a good idea?" Mel asked the boy next to her.

"We're already here..."

Lupin returned with a short-haired Sirius (apparently he'd given in to Emily's desires) and Mel's mum, who was now six months into her pregnancy.

"What is it?" Sirius and Remus knelt, leaving Emily on a chair facing them so she could look at the kids. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No, it's nothing like that... I just wanted to talk... about my dad..." Harry started. "About something I saw in one of Snape's memories."

Lupin and Sirius exchanged a look of surprise, Emily's frown deepened. When Harry finished his story, Lupin was the first to speak.

"I wouldn't like you to judge your parents on what you saw there. They were only fifteen —"

"We're fifteen!"

"Look, Harry," said Sirius, "James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be — he was popular, he was good at Quidditch, good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts and James — whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry — always hated the Dark Arts."

"Yeah, but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because — well, just because you said you were bored."

"And Mum helped him," Mel said, pouting. "You threatened to hurt Lily if she tried to help Snape!"

"I'm not proud of it," said Sirius.

"Neither am I," Emily stated. "As you've heard countless times before, I want you to grow having better morals than the ones I had when I was your age. I can't erase what I did, but I've learned to live with it."

"What you've got to understand is that your fathers and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did — everyone thought they were the height of cool — if they sometimes got a bit carried away —"

"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean," said Sirius. "Matthew was the only one who knew how to keep his feet on the ground. He was a flirt, yes, but he was never a total prat."

"He kept messing up his hair," Harry said quietly, referring to James.

"I'd forgotten he used to do that," said Sirius, laughing.

"Was he playing with the Snitch?" asked Remus.

"Yeah," said Harry.

Mel felt tempted to mention her mother's crush; but what was the point, really? It'd been years since that, and in the end, Emily had stopped liking him, it was long over. Bringing that up would only make things awkward, and Mel knew there was no use in reliving things of the past.

"Well..." Harry started, "I thought he was a bit of an idiot."

"So that's where you got it from, then?" Mel teased.

"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" said Sirius. "We were all idiots! Well — Ruddy and Moony not so much..."

"Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape? Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?" Lupin grimaced.

"Yeah, well, you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes... That was something..."

"Matthew wasn't afraid to be brutally honest, though. He would say the truth no matter what," Emily tilted her head. "Perhaps that's what made me liked him. I had an awful temper and he would always stop me from doing stupid things."

"That explains your temper," The boy whispered to Mel teasingly as well. "Oh! And... he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!"

"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said Sirius. "He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."

"How come she married him? She hated him!"

"Nah, she didn't," Sirius smirked.

"She started going out with him in seventh year," Lupin explained.

"Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.

"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it," said Lupin.

"Even Snape?"

"Well, Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?"

"And my mum was okay with that?"

"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth. I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?"

"I was already friends with Lily by the end of our fifth year," Emily said, "actually, right after that day when we finished our O.W.L.'s we had a talk... yeah, I reckon that's when we decided to call a truce. I made sure she never got anywhere near Snape after that day, for her own sake, really. Snape was always awful to her."

"Look," Sirius said, "your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it. So did Emily, but they never did anything that could be considered a crime."

"Yeah, okay... I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

"Now you mention it," said Lupin, "how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"

"He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again," Harry shrugged, "like that's a big disappoint — Ouch!"

Mel had pinched his arm to stop him from talking, but it was too late.

"He WHAT?" Sirius yelled.

"Are you serious, Harry?" said Lupin. "He's stopped giving you lessons?"

"Yeah— But it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the truth, and Mel said she can teach —"

"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" said Sirius, trying to step into the fire but stopping when Lupin grabbed his arm.

"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!" Lupin said firmly. "Emily needs you here. But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons — when Dumbledore hears —"

"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me! You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve —"

"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency! Do you understand me? Nothing!"

"It's true, kid," Emily said, a look of sympathy on her face. "We need you safe."

"Okay, okay," Harry responded. "I'll... I'll try and say something to him... But it won't be..."

Mel raised a hand to quiet him down, they both heard footsteps.

"Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?"

"No," said Sirius, looking over his shoulder. "It must be somebody your end..."

"We'd better go!"

"Thank you for the talk!" Mel said quickly. "See you!"

They both pulled back from the flames, falling on their butts.

"Quickly, quickly!" Filch wheezed outside the room. "Ah, she's left it open..."

Harry pulled her close abruptly and Mel put the cloak above their heads just in time. Filch rushed over to the desk without paying attention to his surroundings.

"Approval for Whipping... Approval for Whipping... I can do it at last... They've had it coming to them for years..." He ran out holding a piece of parchment.

Harry and Mel left the room in a hurry, one floor down they took off the cloak and followed the noises. They ran to the marble staircase and found the entire school there.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd.

Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down upon Fred and George, who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

"No..." Mel tried to enter the crowd but someone held her arm before she could get in.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Erick whispered. "Let them handle it. They're about to leave anyway."

"How do you know?" Mel asked in surprise.

"I helped them buy half of the things they needed for this. Umbridge doesn't check my mail."

"So!" The woman exclaimed. "So... you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred unbothered.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," Filch exclaimed in joy. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... Oh, let me do it now..."

"Very good, Argus. You two are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what? I don't think we are. George," He turned to his twin. "I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," The boy responded.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"

"Definitely."

"Accio Brooms!" They yelled in unison.

Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left he ducked just in time — Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

Mel clapped along with her classmates, she'd promised not to cry over silly boys, but this was a different kind of crying. No more afternoons with Fred and George around to make her laugh, to tease her about her height or her temper. It hurt, but she also felt proud to call them friends.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I don't know."

"You'll be okay," He assured her. "I'm sorry Fred and you broke up, though."

"You and Fred broke up?" Erick asked in a strange voice.

"Have you been living under a rock?" Harry grinned.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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