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heywardsarchive · 4 years ago

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STAR CROSSED LOVERS~ JAMES SIRIUS POTTER

Summary: Harry Potter does not get along with his old Slytherin classmates. He doesn't let his son talk to his either. But what happens when James Sirius Potter falls in love with the Slytherin daughter of Blaise Zabini?

Warnings: fluff, kinda angsty, slightly ooc Harry and a few swear words

This is for @im-a-writer-right writing challenge

Gif not mine

Being the daughter of Blaise Zabini is not always easy. My mother had left us when I was just a child. I was left in the care of my not so motherly grandmother and her troupe of new husbands and my father, who was really trying his best. He wasn't very fatherly by nature but he tried to be there for me whenever he could.

After the war things were better for the wizarding community. They tried to be mom judgemental based on blood status or house, but old habits die hard. My father and his Slytherin friends especially uncle Draco were shunned and looked down upon. All for the mistakes made by their parents. People would glare at them whenever they passed by. Finding jobs wasn't that easy for us. Not that we needed it but dad wanted to find a way to redeem himself. So he and uncle Draco joined auror training where obviously they were most disliked. Seeing all this around me made me determined to grow up and fight this prejudice. I told my father what I thought and he smiled and patted my head saying that he believed in me. That was all eight year old me wanted to hear and she believed it thoroughly.

But things are not as easy as it seems. I started Hogwarts soon after. I sat in a carriage all alone for a while for no one wanted to sit with a Zabini. Then came in a boy with messy black hair and brown eyes. "Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full." I was delighted! "Yes ofcourse!" "James Potter." He said extending his hand. Oh. A Potter. He'd get up and leave the moment I told him my name. "Y/n Zabini." I said preparing myself for him to walk away disgustedly. I looked up at him after a few moments. "Why didn't you run away screaming?" "Why should I have?" "Because your dad hates mine. My father is Blaise Zabini. Draco Malfoy's best friend." My words sunk in. "So you're the girl my dad told me to stay away from." I felt crestfallen. Why had some old mistakes caused me this? I blinked away tears that threatened to fall. He made no move to leave and continued to stare at me. "Why are you still here then?" "You seem like a nice girl and I think we'll be good friends." "What about your dad?" "He'll get over it and besides rules are meant to be broken." Hd said winking. I laughed. Maybe things would not be so bad.

An hour into the train ride, a boy with tan skin and red hair came to our compartment. "James! There you are. Ive been looking everywhere for you." "This Fred. He's my cousin." James told me. "Now who might this pretty girl be?" He said looking at me. I introduced myself to him, waiting for a reaction. "So this is the girl your dad warned you about?" "Yep." "Nice." "As he already told you, I'm Fred, Fred Weasley. My parents warned me too, but you seem nice and I love breaking rules so, let's be best friends." He said with a genuine smile. I nodded. My biggest fears were wiped! I hadn't reached Hogwarts and I already had two friends!

"Anything from the trolley dears?" Said the trolley witch. "Just jelly slugs thanks." I smiled. She handed it to me. I opened it and shared it with the boys. "So which house are you going to be in?" James asked me. "We're certainly gryffindors." Fred finished with a smirk. "I, uh, I think I'll be in um Slytherin." They had a shocked expression but wiped it off quickly. "Well, Slytherin would have gained a brilliant witch then."

The rest of the journey was quite uneventful. We were nearing the castle and I was quite excited! I had heard so many stories of the castle from my dad. We exited the train and walked up to this giant man who was calling all first years to him. I started walking toward him with Fred and James behind me. We reached a large lake with lots of boats. The boys ran ahead and sat on a boat. They beckoned me to them. Honestly, I was still shocked they actually wanted to be my friend! I climbed on with them and we looked at the castle in awe. The ride was relatively silent as we were all mesmerized by the view. The boat ride was over and we were at the entrance to the great hall.

A tiny profesor who introduced himself as professor Flitwick gave us an introductory speech. I listened intently getting more nervous as the time passed. Seeing my face James squeezed my hand and Fred (who was half a foot taller than me) patted my shoulder reassuringly. The large door opened and we walked in. The great hall was everything I imagined. I looked at the celing it was enchanted with the night sky and floating candles. It was beautiful! The sorting ceremony was about to begin. There was a wierd hat that burst into a song. I got quite the shock.

Professor Flitwick called out names. Some girl names Jessica Greene was sorted into Slytherin. Daniel Walker was sorted into Hufflepuff and so on.

"Potter, James." I squeezed his hand and he gave me a small smile and sat on the stool. The hall started murmuring at his name. The hat had barely been placed on his head when it called "gryffindor!" James jumped up in glee and ran to the gryffindor table. "Weasley, Fred." I smiled at him as he sat on the stool. "Gryffindor!" The hat called after a few seconds. Eventually only I was left. "Zabini, y/n." I breathed in trying to calm myself. Dad would love me no matter what house I was in. Grandmother was a different story, but still. Calm yourself y/n. I climbed onto the stool and the hat was on my head. "You are different." The hat told me. "You've got great ambition and thirst to prove yourself and to change the world. But you're also very brave and chivalrous. Where to put you? Better be Slytherin!" I smiled to myself and walked to the Slytherin table. James and Fred smiled at me and threw me a thumbs up.

"Jessica Greene." Said the blonde girl I had seen earlier. "y/n Zabini." I smiled and shook her hand. She smiled. "I think we're going to be great friends." I felt so happy! I had made 3 friends when I thought I'd make none. Headmistress McGonagall gave us a welcome speech and gave a list of forbidden places and objects; which by the look James and Fred shared and then gave me; they intended to break all of them. i giggled to myself. Hogwarts truly was a magical place. After the speech was over, the tables magically filled up with the most delicious smelling food ever! I immediately piled my plate with a variety of dishes. " You look like you've never seen food before." snorted Jessica. "I have seen food before, just not as good!" I proceeded to finish up my food while conversing with Jessica and the rest of my housemates. They were all very nice, none of them having pureblood only ideas. the feast ended and we were led to the common rooms. The Slytherin common room was in the dungeons. It was green and very cozy. i liked the vibe of the place. i shared my dorm with only 3 other girls since there were only 4 slytherin girls in first year. My bed was beside the window and i loved it!

Jessica decided that since there were so few of us, we needed to bond and stick together. So after all of had got dressed we sat down in a circle and introduced ourselves. "I'm Abigail Larson." said the girl with long brown hair and green eyes. The other girl introduced herself as Anika Smith." she had tan skin and deep brown eyes with dark brown hair. The four of spoke till late that night. I woke up a bit early the next morning, excited for our first day. I got dressed into my school robes and then went to wake up the others. Anika and Abigail woke up easily while Jessica was a whole different story. "Five more minutes." she groaned. "Ok sleepy head, but if we miss our first day of classes i doubt the teachers will be happy. She groaned again but woke up anyway. While i waited i wrote a letter to my father. I told him about my house, the sorting and my new friends." I had just finished the letter when Jess was ready. "Ready to go?" i nodded and the four of us head out to the great hall.

I split from the group so i could owl the letter. I was on my way to the owlery when i felt an arm wrap around my waist and another around my shoulder. "Well, look who it is Fred! Our little snakey friend." " Why yes it is james, say y/n already forgotten about us have you?" I giggled at the comment. "Ofcourse not! I was just about to send this letter before you two slowed me down." "Our sincerest apologies." said James not looking sincere in the slightest. They continued to follow me to the owelery talking among themself. i quickly tied the letter around my owl's leg and gave him a few treats before he took off. " Lets head to breakfast before we get late yeah?" "oh little Zabini, ever the punctual girl." Said Fred snickering slightly. I hit him in the arm and walked toward the great hall. I bid they boys goodbye and sat at the slytherin table with my friends.

First year passed by relatively fast. I topped most of my classes and was the favourite student of most of the professors. Potions was my favourite class, closely followed by charms. The year was at it's end and Fred, James and I were walking by the black lake. I kicked at a pebble before turning to the boys. "Did you tell your parents that you were friends with me?" i asked hesitantly. "Not exactly, no." they said. "Our parents would not be too happy about that." "I understand." i said sadly. I should have known,their family wouldn't welcome me with open arms would they now. "Don't be sad little snake. We'll figure it out. I promise." i smiled.

I sat in the train carriage with the girls, excited to be home. I was top of the class, a slytherin and the teachers loved me. Grandmother would be pleased. Dad, well he is proud of everything i achieve and i love him for it. During the ride James and Fred walked in. "Hello ladies, mind if we borrow our little friend here for a minute?" They nodded and I walked out of the cabin with the boys. "So we have come up with a plan for you to meet us during break without our parents getting to know." I looked at Fred and motioned him to go on. "Our close friend and fellow gryffindor, Alec Thomas lives near diagon alley. We have made a plan to meet him during the break at his house. We spoke to him and he agreed to let us stay over at his place during break. If you could come to diagon alley around the 13th of july (thats my birthday lol) we could meet up for ice cream!" "That seems like a good plan." I said thoughtfully. I was planning on telling dad about the boys anyway, this could work. They grinned. The train sounded as we drew nearer to the station. I grabbed my bag and got ready to get off at the station. I hugged the girls who had grown to become my best friends although i was closest to Jessica.

I walked around the station looking for my father. "Y/N!" His voice came. I dragged my trunk and ran to him. He pulled me in for a hug. "I missed you so much!" "I missed you too dad and i have some great news!" I told him about all my achievements and my new friends. "Your grandmother will certainly be proud. She missed you although she won't admit it." I giggled at that. We apparated home where grandmother was waiting for us. A there was a man behind her whom i did not recognize. He must be her new husband! Yeah, grandmother changed husbands like she changed clothes. I went and hugged her. "How was school?" "It was great!" I told her too of all my achievements and dad was right, she was proud of me.

The days flew by quickly. I received an owl from James asking me how I was and reminding me of our meeting in a few days. Right. I had yet to tell my dad about them. I would do it now. As i was preparing to tell him the door opened and there he was. "Hey darling." "Dad I need to tell you something." "Okay." he said cautiously. "I am friends with James Potter and Fred Weasley. Please don't be mad." He smiled at me. "I am not mad dear. In fact i am happy for you. You have made so many friends! And besides I am not going to control who you are friends with. It isn't fair. But darling, be careful. James and Fred may be nice but their family won't accept you easily." "I know that. And i will be careful. Besides, they have asked me to meet with them this week at diagon alley, Can I go daddy?" He thought about it and and sighed. "Alright. You can go." "Thankyou so much!" I hugged him.

On the morning of the day I had to meet the boys I woke up early out of sheer excitement. I ran down and ate breakfast quickly. Grandmother looked shocked to see me up early but didn't comment. I ran up to my bedroom and got dressed. "Ready to go?" Dad asked coming into my bedroom. "Yep!" We were going to get my school stuff before I met the boys. We apparated to diagon alley. Dad said he had some work to do and told me to go and buy some quills and ink in the mean time. As I left the shop my father walked toward me grinning, holding something behind his back. "As a reward for doing so well, I decided to get you this." It was a broom! Oh I loved quidditch. I used to play with dad and uncle Draco sometimes. Scorpius never liked the sport. "Thankyou so much!" It was one of the best brooms out there. Oh I'm definitely trying out for quidditch this year. He patted my back. "Looks at the time! You'll get late to meet your friends. I'll get the rest of your stuff. You go ahead." I bid him goodbye and ran to the ice cream parlour.

There on a small table were James Potter and Fred Weasley. "Hello boys." I said as I walked up to them. They greeted me cheerfully. We ordered our ice cream and sat down. "Shit!" Said James loudly. He frantically pointed at the window. I looked to see what on earth was bothering him when lo and behold the famous Harry Potter was walking toward the shop. "What do we do?" Mr Potter had already seen us so I couldn't exactly run away. "Don't mention your last name no matter what ok." Fred told me. "Hey kids." Said Mr Potter. "What brings you here dad?" James asked a bit nervously. "Oh I was just in a meeting near by and thought I'd come say hi to you both. I called Dean up and he said the two of you had come here to meet a friend who I'm assuming is this young lady here." He said pointing at me. I shot him a nervous smile, not quite knowing how to react. "Yes. Dad that is y/n. She's in our year. Top of the class." "It's great to meet you." "You too sir." I started to get nervous and I think James noticed because he said. "Dad it's getting late we better get going. Good bye!" Mr Potter looked confused but left anyway. "I'd better leave too boys. See you at school." They hugged me goodbye and I went to find my dad.

***

Fourth year

The whole incident was long forgotten. The boys and I became very close. We decided not to meet such a way ever again. The stress was too much for me.

The boys had decided that it would be fun for them to join me and the girls on our train journeys and while eating dinner ever since Albus and Scorpius had been sorted into slytherin in our third year. My friends gave me suggestive looks but eventually got bored of it and accepted the boys joining us. The train journey wasn't that different this year. "Hello ladies." Said Fred sliding into the compartment. We greeted them with a chorus of hellos. Fred sat down opposite me beside Abi. Although there was a ton of space next to him, James squeezed himself next to me almost pushing Anika off her seat. She glared at him and stood up muttering coulourful words while setting herself next to Abi. "How was you guys' summer?" He asked. "It was terrible!" I cried. It truly was. "Hey! you spent half of your summer with me." Said Jessica in mock offense. "Jess, you know what i mean." She simply smirked. "What happened?" James asked. "Well, for starters I had to help set up this stupid wizarding gala with my grandmother. She wanted to show off and sell her jewelry to other folk while at the same time hosting a ball like thing, whih mind you was boring as hell. The only people who showed up were stuck up old ladies. They had brought along their reluctant grandsons who i am sure my grandmother wanted as a potential suitor for me, and had she had her way it would have been so, but my dad would not allow it. Anyway, I spent a week of my break in that way." I finished with a sigh. I could see how badly everyone wanted to laugh or sympathize with me. "Go ahead and laugh." Everyone burst out laughing and i found myself laughing too.

We spent the rest of the journey laughing and having a gala time. We reached hogwarts and watched the sorting. Slytherin had gained 9 new students. We heard the standard starting of the year speech and tucked in. We chatted merrily until bedtime like every year. It had become a tradition to chat all night on the first day of school. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.Hogwarts is truly a magical place.

Today was the first day of classes. I had dropped divination and taken arithmacy instead. I had heard it was a wonderful subject. Professor Howard took arithmacy and he was a brilliant teacher. I truly loved the class. I sat down at my place when in noticed a head of shaggy black hair in front of me. "James?" I asked surprised. "Y/n!" James said. "I didn't know you took this class." "Neither did I. But apparently I do now." He joked. "Only kidding. I never took divination after hearing how boring it was from my dad." 'Why don't we sit together?" He nodded and jumped over his seat and onto the one next to me. "You could have just walked you know that right?" He just grinned and shrugged innocently. I just rolled my eyes.

Fourth year wasn't as bad as i thought it would be. I actually quite enjoyed it. I was sitting by the black lake. "I need your help!" came the voice of Scorpius Malfoy, following behind him was Albus Potter. "Whats up Scorp?" "Well, I like this girl and want to ask her out. But I think she hates me." "Who is this girl?" I asked. "It's my cousin, Rose." Albus cut in. Rose Granger Weasley. Another person who hated people like Scorp and me, it was because her dad doe s not like ours, but unlike the Potter boys, she refused to change her views. "Well Scorp, you should be nice to her, try being her friend, only then ask her out. If she refuses to be your friend, then I guess she is not worth the trouble. No offense Albus." "None taken. I know that Rose is a bit stuck up which can be pretty annoying." Scorpius looked dejected but nodded nonetheless. I felt a bit bad for him. But I can't really help him can I?

Today is the first quidditch game of the season. Our captain has been working out butts off sine a month. "Ready to get your arses beat?" I smirked at Fred and James. "You wish Zabini." They retorted. I walked to the slytherin changing room where our captain, Elena Johnson was waiting. "Alright. We have worked long and hard for this. Use your strategies and no cheating and we can win." We cheered and got to the pitch. I was a chaser on the team and so was James. I mounted my broom and smirked at him. He smirked back. Madam Hooch blew the whistle and the quaffle was in the air. I dived to catch it, but James caught it first. Dang it. I chased after him to try and catch the quaffle. He threw the quaffle to the hoop and just as it was about to score, my fellow chaser, Andrew caught it. He passed the quaffle to me and I scored! James was behind me now, I threw the quaffle to the third chaser, Ben who threw it at the hoop. We scored again. Slytherin was in the lead and I was ecstatic. The gryffindor chasers were trying their best to up their score. The beaters were sending bludgers left right and centre. Fred knocked a bludger in our direction, not intending to hurt anyone, but unfortunately James had come in the way and he got hit. He was a foot away from me when I saw him fall. The crowd gasped. I don't know what came over me and I dived to catch him. He nearly hit the ground when I broke his fall. I set him on the ground gently. "James. James?" I tried to shake him, but he was unconscious. Madam Hooch took him to the hospital wing and the game continued. I hoped the seeker would catch the snitch because I was unable to focus. My wishes were answered because the snitch was caught and Slytherin won the game.

I should have stayed back to celebrate but I was too concerned about James. I changed and rushed to the hospital wing. He was lying there asleep looking so peaceful. I sat by his bed and looked at him. I think I must have been there a long time because I had fallen asleep and for some reason when I woke up I was holding James' hand. I quickly retracted it. "Y/n? Is that you?" James asked. "Yea, it's me. You took a pretty bad fall there you know?" "I know. I did it so it would not hit you." "What?" "Yes." He said and before I could say anything else he fell asleep again. Typical.

What he said that day never left my mind. He obviously did it because he's my best friend. Right? RIGHT? I voiced my thoughts to Jess but she simply have me a knowing look and was no help at all. I eventually decided to let it go and move on with my life. James seemed to have forgotten he said it too. So I pretended he didn't and we were back to being best friends.

Sixth year

Although I pretended that I had forgotten what James said, I never did. His words kept resounding in my head and he never left my mind. All the tiniest things he did made it seem like he liked me. Although, he's been like that since the start. I spent the entirety of fifth year deciding whether I liked him or I was just being paranoid. Eventually I decided that I did like him and I was just lying to myself saying that I didn't. I told my friends about my revelation when they stayed over during the summer and they all responded with a "Finally!" Or something along those lines. Rude.

After I accepted I had a crush on James, I because hyper aware of him whenever he came near me. I would immediately tense and blush. I think I was pretty obvious but James was oblivious as always. Even Fred noticed and asked me about it. I tried to avoid answering his questions but he is a stubborn prat. I made him swear not to tell anyone and told him of my crush. He jumped and screamed. "I KNEW IT!" he was convinced James liked me too, but how could he? He was my best friend and besides, his father would probably kill him.

Fred seemed to take my confession as a challenge to set us up. He even managed to rope in my friends. They made us sit together I'm class, while eating. They left us alone for long periods of time but nothing. I decided that it was worthless waiting for James since he obviously didn't like me back. I would try move on. It was hard, obviously when I so clearly in love with him.

I was sitting in the library finishing my potions homework when Andrew Higgs came up to me. He was a sweet boy and was in the quidditch team with me. "Hey y/n." "Hey Andrew. What's up?" He rubbed his neck. "Do you want to go to hogsmeade with me?" I was about to say no but then I remembered that I wanted to move on. "Sure!" "Great! I'll see you tomorrow then?" I nodded.

I skipped back happily to my common room. "What's got you so happy?" Abi asked. "I got a date with Andrew." "The chaser?" "Yep!" "But what about James?" "He doesn't like me. I may as well move on." I shrugged. The girls didn't look convinced. I ignored it and left the common room for my prefect rounds. Yes I was a prefect. I had rounds alone today so I had plenty of time to think. I spent most of the year pining after him and now I only have three months left of sixth year. I may as well go on a date or two and see how it works out. As I was lost in my thoughts, I bumped into Fred. "Well well well. Look who is out after curfew." I grinned at Fred. "Is it true you have a date?" I nodded. "Don't go! James will be crushed." "I am going and he's made it clear he doesn't like me. And even if he does maybe this is the push he needs to ask me out." Fred sighed in defeat but headed back to his common room.

The weekend was here. I dressed up in a cosy but warm outfit and left for hogsmeade. I met Andrew at the three broomsticks. He hugged me and pulled out the chair for me. He was a perfect gentleman and was so much fun to talk to, but something was missing. He wasn't James. "This was fun-" I started. "But you don't like me that way?" I sighed. "I'm sorry Andrew, you're a really great person and I'd love to this again but as friends. I don't like you that way." "It's fine. I know you like Potter and it's ok. I like this ravenclaw girl but she doesn't seem to notice me so I thought I'd try to move on." I grinned at him. I bid him goodbye and headed to honeydukes to re stock my candy. I was about to pay for my sweets when fred and James came up behind me. "How was your date Zabini?" Fred asked. "It was ok." I shrugged. "You went on a date?" James asked a bit accusingly. "Yep." "Oh um that's nice. I uh I gotta go." He said practically sprinting out of the shop. " I told you he liked you." "No he does not." I was still in denial. I paid and left the shop.

James started to act wierd since that day. He started to avoid me and barely spoke to me. Heck even Albus and Scorpius noticed it. I asked Fred about it but he always just shrugged. I started spending less time with the boys and more time with my friends.

The year was over and we were on our way home. I decided that I would speak to James no matter what. "James!" "Yes?" He asked avoiding my eyes. "We need to talk." He shuffled nervously and looked at his feet. "Why have you been avoiding me?" "Avoiding you? I have not!" I gave him a look and he gave me a nervous smile. "Look i-" the train stopped and all the students came rushing out. "We'll talk about this later ok?" He said walking away. I sighed. I'll never get anything out of him.

Seventh year

James ignored all my owls that summer. He didn't even respond to the one about me becoming head girl! I told my dad of it and he sighed and patted my back. Fred still spoke to me though. He told me that James wasn't doing so well. He was always moping. That is very unlike him. Summer before my last year was pretty uneventful. Scorpius and his dad spent a lot of time in our house, not that I minded ofcourse. I wrote letters to the girls who were all travelling to different countries. Since it was my last year, I wanted to try interning with a lawyer of the wizengamot just to get a feel of what my life would be like. It was quite fun to be honest. Summer passed quickly and soon I was walking through the platform for the last time as a student. It was a bitter sweet feeling.

I dropped off my stuff in my compartment and chatted with my friends for a while. Since I had become head girl, anika was the replacement prefect. We headed the the prefect compartment where I had to give out duties. I still didn't know who the head boy was but I guess I'd find out. "James? What are you doing here?" He turned around with a guilty look. "I'm head boy." He said. "But you weren't even a prefect!" "I know, it's odd." I glared at him. He ignored me all summer and now I have to share a dorm with him?! What a life.

I ignored his presence and instructed the prefects of their duties and responsibilities. I have them the schedule and sent them off. As I was about to leave James called out my name. "I don't want to hear it Potter." I threw him an icy glare and walked out. My heart hurt. After all this time I still liked him.

After the feast we all headed back to our respective dorms. It was the first time I'd be away from my friends in school since first year. Usually I would have been happy with James as head boy but at the moment I was very angry.

I set my things in my side of the dorm and head downstairs to the common area where James seemed to be waiting for me. "Y/n! Please just listen to me." "No James. I listened to you last year during school, in the train, I sent you letters but you never responded to them. I think you've lost your chance." I said turning around. He grabbed my wrist and kissed me. I found myself kissing him back.

Realising what I did I pulled away. "No you can't do that! You can't just ignore me and then kiss me!" "I'm sorry I did that to you. When you went on that date with Andrew I got jealous. I was going to tell you I liked you that day but then you went on a date with him and I just snapped I guess. I thought if I distance myself from you my feelings would go away but they didn't. They just became stronger. That's why I didn't answer your letters and I'm sorry." He said looking genuinely sorry. "Why didn't you just talk to me?" I asked making him look at me. "I don't know, I just felt guilty after a point I guess." I wrapped him in a hug. "I forgive you but please never do that again." "You mean that?" I nodded. He immediately kissed me again. My heart fluttered excitedly in my chest. I pulled away for air. "But James, your dad!" "He'll get over it. For now, I just want to be with you."

We didn't plan on telling our friends they way we did. They walked in on us kissing and boy were they pissed. They got over it though. James and I spent most of our time together. It was quite nice actually. Our NEWTS were coming up and I decided to stay back at Hogwarts for Christmas to study. James stayed back too. We occasionally tried to study together but it always failed.

The NEWTS weren't as hard as they were made to be. I think I did quite well honestly. On our last week of school, James and i called our close friends to the head dorm where they would stay the night and we would have fun. We stayed up for most of the night and i cuddled into James' side. "You two are sickeningly sweet." Fred fake gagged. "It's not like you and Audrey are any better." I stuck my tongue out at him. Audrey was Fred's girlfriend. She was nice. "I will really miss this place." Ani sighed. "Me too." "We made so many memories here!" "Let us all promise to stay friends after hogwarts and for the rest of our lives." Said Fred. "Deal" We all said together.

Our graduation ceremony was everything I imagined and better. We sat in the Hogwarts Express for the last time ever as students. I walked onto the platform and sighed. "There's my dad." I pointed in the crowd. "Can I meet him?" James asked me. "You want to?" He nodded. "If you can't meet my father yet, atleast i can meet yours." He followed me to my dad. "Dad, this is James. He is the boyfriend I told you about.""So you are the handsome young lad who stole my daughter's heart? It's great to meet you son. I hope you're taking good care of my daughter.""It's actually her who takes care of me, but I try my best." Dad chuckled. "Good answer. You've got a good one." He told me. I moved to kiss James on the cheek but he moved his face so i kissed his lips. "I'll see you soon, hopefully." He grinned and walked away. I followed my dad and we apparated home.

James' POV

Just as I was about to find my parents, dad walked upto me. I was startled to say the least. "Who's the girl?" He asked me. "Oh no one." I shrugged nervously. "So you just go around kissing no one?" I laughed nervously. Thankfully mom came and saved me. "Ready to go?" She asked. I ran up to her and we apparated home. I spent a few days avoiding dad. I didn't want to answer unnecessary questions about my girlfriend. Unfortunately luck wasn't on my side for long. I was sitting in our backyard when he sat down beside me.

"So tell me about your girlfriend." Well, there was no escaping this now. "She's really sweet yeah, cares about me alot. She's smart and great at quidditch. She's perfect in my eyes." "And her father, doesn't happen to be Blaise Zabini does he because I remember her with him." I started to get angry. When would he see past this silly prejudices. "Yes dad she is his daughter." "I want you to stay away from her." "DAD NO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" I yelled at him. "I can do anything I want because I'm your father. That girl is nothing but trouble. Look at his family tree! A whole lot of death eaters they are." "Her father wasn't a death Eater. And nor is she. She's the best thing to happen to me and you can't make me leave her." "Then you leave us. It's either your family or that girl." "THEN I PICK Y/N! Atleast she doesn't make me pick." "Alright then. Leave." "You can't be serious." "I am." "Fine!" I stormed up to my room and whipped out my wand. I packed my belongings and went to Albus' room. I hugged him and then went and hugged lily and walked out the door. But where would I go? I can't go to Fred's house because dad would obviously find me there. So I apparated to the Zabini manor.

I knocked at the door hoping she would be home. "Coming!" Came her sweet voice. "James? What are you doing here?" She asked looking very confused. "I'll tell you everything, but can I come in first?" "Yeah ofcourse." She let me in and I told her everything. I could see the regret and heart break in her eyes when I told her the story. "Oh James! You shouldn't have left!" "What and break up with you?" "If it means you wouldn't lose your family then, yes!" "But what would I do without you? I love you!" "James, my love, you mean everything to me. But family is always more important. You will find someone else to spend your life with. You need to let go." " I can't do that. I need you." "You need your family more. I'll tell you what. Spend a few days here and then go back. Cool your mind. But I'm not going to be with you if it costs you your entire family James. I love you too much for that." I felt years brimming in my eyes but I nodded. She stopped me in a hug and ran her fingers through my hair.

"Y/n? Who is that?" "It's just James dad. Can he stay here for a few days? He got into a fight with his father." "Alright. I'll tell Jenny to fix up a bedroom for him." "Wait dad, is it ok if he sleeps in my bedroom?" "Ok but only for tonight. And no funny buisness you two. I don't need grandchildren this early." She chuckled lightly and shook her head. We went up to her bedroom and got changed. She lied down and pat the space next to her. I joined her in bed and wrapped my arms around her. "I'll love you forever no matter what." I heard her whisper to me before I fell asleep with the love of my life in my arms.

I had stayed with her for a few days and I had to return home that day. I grudgingly packed my things. I kissed her one last time and apparated home. "So you're back I see." Said dad smugly. "Yes. And only because the girl you hate so much forced me to come back." "See. I told you she would ditch you." I started to get angry. "She did not ditch me. She said she'd rather I break up with her than lose you and my family. But clearly she was wrong." Dad looked a bit embarassed after my out burst. I went back to my room and ignored him for the rest of the day. Albus was the only person I talked too because he understood my situation. He was sad too because he liked her in a sisterly way very much. It was a week after I returned and I was looking at career options when dad knocked on my door.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I realise I was wrong in making you break up with that girl who you clearly love. I spoke with hermione and your mother and they too agreed that what I did was wrong. So I am now here to say you have all our blessings." "Really?" I asked unable to believe my ears. "Thanks dad!" I hugged him. "Now go get her tiger. But wait. I want you to give her this." He pulled out a box with the most beautiful ring. "But dad we're so young!" "I know. It was my mom's. I got it back much after I got married so I kept it for you or Albus. You don't have to give it to her right now. But if you do, I wish you all the best." He gave me the box and left. I thought about what he said. Maybe I do want to marry her.

I apparated to Zabini manor and frantically knocked the door. The door opened revealing a disheveled y/n. "James? Why are you back i-" I cut her off and firmly kissed her. "I missed you so much." "I missed you too but what about your dad?" "He's ok with it. He realised his mistake." "That's great James! I'm so happy for you!" "Yeah me too. I also wanted to give you this." I got down on one knee and opened the ring box. "I know we are young, we have so much of our life ahead of us! And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you more than words can say my love. So will you y/n Zabini make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?" Her eyes started to water and she smiled at me. "Ofcourse I will! But not right now. I will stay engaged to you but I want to settle down first you know?" "I understand I do. And I totally agree with you. I'm with you all the way." I got up and spun her around.

I heard a sniffle and we jumped apart. "That was cutest proposal ever!" Said Mr Zabini. "Thank you mr Zabini." I grinned. "Well you might as well start calling me dad." There was a knock on the door. "Oh that must be your father James. I called him when you started your speech." The house elf opened the door and I saw my parents and siblings enter. "I guess it's time to make amends." Dad said to mr Zabini, I mean, other dad. "You must be my future daughter in law." "Yes sir. I am." She smiled at him. Mom came up and hugged her. "It's great to finally meet the girl who is going to marry my oldest little boy!" Mom gushed. "Mom!" I said embarassed. They started to mingle among each other and I sighed happily. Things did get better and I could not be happier.

Four years later

It was finally the day I was going to marry the love of my life. I flattened the non existent creases on my black suit when Fred walked in. "Chill out James you look fine." "How is she?" "She's good too." He was my best man and also one of y/n's best guy friends and so he got to see bith of us but we couldn't see each other since a week which was a bit unfair you know? We were engaged for 4 years which is a long time. In that much time, y/n became a lawyer, I became a professional quidditch player. Time sure flew by.

"Alright James. It's time." Mum said entering my room. "I can't believe you're getting married! It feels like just yesterday you were in diapers." She sniffed. "Mum!" I groaned. "Sorry. Let's go now." I walked to my position on the altar waiting for my beautiful bride to arrive. What felt like hours but was infact only five minutes I saw her. She looked like a godess. Radiance reflected out of her. She looked gorgeous in her white dress. I felt myself tear up as she walked down the aisle with her father. She stood infront of me and grinned.

While the priest spoke I could not take my eyes off her. I was so distracted I didn't realise I had to say my vows. The crowd laughed and I blushed. I recited my vows and so did she.

"I do." "You may now kiss the bride." I was waiting for those words since the start of the week. I kissed her with all the love I held in my heart and the crowd awwd.

At the dinner table fred who was my best man had to give a speech. He spoke of our time in Hogwarts and all the embarassing things I did. Next Jessica who was the maid of honor spoke of y/n's side of things. The guests laughed at our antics. It was time for our first dance. "May I have this dance m'lady" "Yes you may kind sir." She smiled and extended her hand. I pulled her up and we walked to the dance floor. I out my arms around her waist and she on my shoulders. As we swayed to the music I could only think of her.

"I love you Mrs Potter." God I loved saying that. "And I love you Mr Potter."

*********

#riaswritingchallenge #james sirius potter x reader #james sirius potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter next gen

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nosferatvpussy · 4 years ago

Text

distorted lullabies [chapter IV]

Word count: 4,113

Warnings: vulgar language

Pairing: Dracula x reader

AO3 link

Author’s note: Listen... I wrote this chapter this past week and I must say I'm not happy with it. My brain is mush due to work so that's all I could come up with. I wish I could've done better but I know if I delayed posting it I would never do it. Feedback would be greatly appreciated on this one (good or bad).

“Oh my fucking God.”

My day had started out fine. I had woken up in a surprisingly good mood considering it was Monday and then I ruined it.

With the exception of Count Dracula’s visit to my house, my weekend was pretty uneventful. Sunday was spent grocery shopping with Diana and reviewing cases to prepare myself for court sessions during the following week. Occupying myself with work was not only necessary but also served as a good distraction from the deal I had struck with the Count.

Being arrogant had its advantages in my line of work but after proposing a deal to a vampire, I was starting to think how quickly that arrogance could turn into vanity and plain stupidity. A deal from which I had yet to glimpse a way out of? Could I outsmart a centuries old vampire and wiggle out of that deal? On Saturday night I was pretty sure I could. Now… Not so much.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I muttered, receiving ugly looks from people on the tube.

My hand covered my mouth so I would stop cursing and to stop it from falling open.

Reconnaissance was part of any good lawyer’s job and that was what I had decided to do as my first course of action against Count Dracula. As soon as I had found a good spot to sit in the tube, I googled him by his title. All of the pages included the interesting moniker Vlad the Impaler followed by his actual name Vlad Dracula. That in itself was enough for a chill to run down my spine but each line I read managed to make it worse.

He was born in the Middle Ages, more precisely in 1431, which put him somewhere over five hundred years old. So, I had made a deal with someone overly experienced in the matters of life, which wasn’t ideal but could be remedied. But then I was met with medieval drawings depicting him dining amongst a field of impaled people. One particular page had supposed accounts from Ottomans and Saxons describing the atrocities committed by him. Boiling people alive, nailing hats to people’s skulls so they wouldn’t take it off, setting beggars and thieves on fire to “cleanse” Wallachia were just some of his various lovely bedtime stories. Those tales had elicited my first string of curses, which yes evoked the name of God in a blasphemous way but at that point I didn’t care if I offended a higher power or not.

Not only was he abhorrently vile, he was smart. Smart enough to send people infected with the plague to infiltrate enemy camps, using them as biological warfare and weakening enemy numbers. Not many people would have thought of such a tactic in the Middle Ages. Apparently the sight of the impaled people put on display around the city Targoviste was so repulsive that the Ottoman Empire simply retreated. And albeit having half or sometimes a quarter of the army of his opponents, he still managed to win several battles because of his cunning.

That was the part that made me curse several times as some sort of mantra. A ruthless and smart ruler that had been a monster long before he became a vampire, that was who I was up against. And he had five hundred years of practice under his belt. How nice for me.

My body took control as my mind raced and I got off at Canary Wharf station, making my way to the overly modern glass plated building where I worked.

The Middle Ages were a long time ago and it was a notoriously dark and violent time. Desperate times call for desperate measures, one could say. It should serve as a logical explanation to make myself feel better but the cold sweat on the palms of my hands was an obvious sign that it wasn’t working. I resorted to my earbuds and played one of my favourite songs to try calm myself but I was barely paying any attention to it. The noise inside my head was far louder.

I willed my brain to catch up with my body once the elevator doors opened to the 17th floor. Work, now , I told myself. I could think about how to escape the Count’s grip later.

Greeting my colleagues, I made my way to my desk at the far left of the office. We occupied half of the 17th floor while the other half was made up of a café and a small finance firm. Smelling croissants and fresh coffee, I placed my purse and briefcase on my chair and was already making a b-line for the café when Renfield peeked his head out of a meeting room and waved for me to join him.

I threw my earbuds over my shoulders so the string could hang from around my neck and stuck my phone on my trousers' back pocket. Renfield promptly closed the door as soon as I stepped inside. He splayed his arms over the doorway, blocking it. Eyes with dilated pupils watched me from behind thick glasses. Frowning, I looked out through the blurred glass walls that outlined the meeting room we were standing on. If he was about to reprehend me for something I’d done then at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment of the whole office witnessing it.

Renfield had always been composed and taken great pride in his work and looks. For the past few days that stopped being true. Not only was he acting in a disturbing manner, he also appeared unwashed. His hair was greasy and a few strands stuck to his forehead. His suit had a stain on a lapel and he didn’t have a colourful handkerchief peeking out of his front pocket as he usually did. Overworked, I guessed, but never in all the years I knew him had I seen him this way. When I joined the firm as his intern, he let me write most of his opening and closing statements so I could learn and he would rehearse them on his office as I watched and explain why certain phrases should be changed to provide the necessary punch in court. He taught me the basics and all the clever little tricks one could use to dribble a prosecution. He was in the audience when I worked my first case alone in front of a judge. He was there when I won my first case and he took me out for a beer. And he was there when I lost for the first time and he took me out for whiskey. We still went out to celebrate whenever one of us won a case.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he rasped, barely sounding like himself. “Are the Mast-- the Count’s documents in your possession?”

The Master’s, that’s what he almost said. A little too late I remembered that Renfield was Dracula’s servant and automatically took a step back to put distance between us. The Count had arrived at London a week ago, which could explain my boss’ disheveled appearance.

“They’re at my desk.”

He nodded and licked his lips in a way that made me think of a lizard.

“And what did you think of him? Of Count Dracula?”

The lunatic gleam in Renfield’s eyes made my decision before I could think through it very much.

“He’s polite and handsome,” I said in the most neutral tone I could manage. “I’ll get the documents and bring them to you. Excuse me.”

I closed the distance between us with more confidence than I felt. Nudging Renfield’s shoulder to the side so he would make way, I tried to grab the doorknob and then he was on me. He pinned me against a glass wall before I had a chance to push him back and his hand yanked my shirt’s collar down, exposing my neck.

“Ah! Ah!” he exclaimed loudly. “I knew it!”

I tried to fight him off, terrified of the crazed look on his bulging eyes, but he slammed me back on the glass. It trembled under my weight.

“ Why … you ?” Spittle landed on my face as he spoke and I cringed. “Why would he bestow such a gift on you?!”

Understanding dawned on me and for a second I stopped trying to escape. He was infuriated because Count Dracula had bitten me and not him, like some sort of drug addict that had his vice taken away.

“Let me go,” I said, summoning a calm semblance. “Ask him about it. It’s not like I offered him a drink.”

“No, not a drink. If he wanted just a drink he would have killed you. He’ll make you his bride. But I-- I have worked so hard, so so hard. I deserve it, I do, I do,” he was whimpering now and shaking his head to the sides like a child.

“I know, I know,” I cooed but I had tears on my eyes.

His hands wrapped around my neck and squeezed. My eyes instantly bugged out of my head and the tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I struggled. My hands found his face, trying to slap him or scratch him, anything that would get him off of me. I hit the glass wall with the back of my heel repeatedly to try to get someone’s attention outside. Air couldn’t reach my lungs anymore and my windpipe would probably collapse if he pressed harder. The pressure on my head was enormous. I could barely see and my face felt like it would explode at any second.

Several figures burst in the room. Two of them tried to pry Renfield off of me and the other three screamed for him to let me go. The crushing force on my neck ceased all of a sudden and I went down like a sack of potatoes, falling on my side as I gasped for air.

“Master! Master!” Renfield howled, struggling against his captors. “I was good, I was good! MASTER!”

A hacking cough seized me as I tried to will air into my lungs but failed to do so in the speed I needed. Slowly my vision returned and I saw Henry and Mallory kneeling next to me, trying to get me to sit up. Renfield’s deafening screams filled my ears.

“What happened?!” Mallory asked as Matthew, another colleague of mine, and a security guard tried to pin Renfield to the ground as he continued shouting.

“Not h-his fault,” I croaked, covering my neck with my hand. I would have a new bruise to match my bite now.

Mallory and Henry started talking about what they should do while I found myself trapped in Renfield’s demented eyes. He wasn’t in there, not anymore.

“A psychotic episode,” I whispered to Mallory. It hurt to talk. “Call medics, not the police. It’s not his fault.” Mallory and Henry exchanged a look and nodded.

More people filed into the room to gawk at the scene. Several more people gathered around me, trying to be helpful to the point where they started to resemble vultures and not good samaritans. I allowed myself to be coddled by these people while my mind ran amok.

My chest tightened as if the sorrow I felt hurt physically as well. The man I had looked up to as an outstanding lawyer, the man I inherited the poise and the commanding voice… was gone. Reduced to the likes of a mewling baby and a deranged man.

I hardly paid attention when paramedics arrived and took Renfield away but when a paramedic wanted to check my neck, I was pulled back to reality by the bond I had to Count Dracula.

“No,” I told him, one hand securing my shirt’s collar to my neck so it was covered. “I’m fine, really.”

“Miss, please. By what your colleagues described he nearly choked you to death.” His hands hovered on the air around me as a second silent request to let him look at the bruise.

I shook my head vehemently but tears were welling in my eyes again.

I wanted desperately to tell someone just then. To explain about Renfield and the bite on my neck that marked me as his . But I couldn’t. My voice wouldn’t leave my throat because that too had become his . Even if I was able to tell someone, I knew it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. Bitten by a vampire? Surely I would be thrown in the psychiatric ward as Renfield would.

“I can’t,” I said weakly before pushing him out of my way and running to the restroom.

London’s night lights kept me company as I worked overtime on the firm. After spending the rest of my day warding off preoccupied people, I decided that I would need to add extra hours of work. At home I would succumb to my bed’s embrace and wouldn’t get any work done.

My desk lamp was the only source of light coming from inside the office and it illuminated the papers spread haphazardly in front of me. I had attended court earlier that day only to request an adjournment to Judge Llewellyn, who scowled and immediately demanded I explain myself. Matthew, my colleague, accompanied me to speak on my behalf since my voice box wasn’t strong enough yet to project my words to a courtroom. When Matthew explained the ordeal to Llewellyn I had the satisfaction of seeing the judge’s face dismantle in embarrassment for questioning me so harshly. It didn’t matter how much satisfaction it brought me because at the end of the day my case was delayed which impacted the life of a very dedicated mother who was disputing custody of her children with her ex. Catching up on cases and preparing future statements was my way of rectifying it.

I scribbled on a post-it and stuck it to a page before putting that pile to the side. I still had three more cases to review, draw up a plea bargain and think of a way to escape Count Dracula. I was procrastinating the latter.

The elevator opened with a ding on the other side of the floor and I raised my head to see who could it be at this time of night. A silhouette stepped out, standing in the darkness for only a moment before the hall’s motion activated lights came on. At once I sunk in my chair.

“Renfield... Where are you?” Count Dracula pitched his velvet voice in a mock song as he strolled in the office.

My heartbeat shot up in response and I shrunk further, trusting the darkness to conceal me. He swiveled his head directly at me as if my fear had drawn him. The lights from the buildings outside only illuminated half of his face.

“Y/N,” he said. My name on his lips sent a shiver through my body. “Working in the dark, are we?” When no answer came from me, he clicked his tongue. “I can’t seem to get ahold of Renfield but I suppose you’ll do. My assets were supposed to have been released today. The bank said I need-” He had been strolling my way as he talked but he stopped abruptly, whiffing the air. “You’re scared. Of me?”

He resumed his pace slowly, almost dragging his steps. Just then, I truly understood the feeling of being stalked by a predator.

“Why… are you... scared?”

He quickened his pace suddenly and covered over half the distance between us in seconds. I jumped from my seat and backed up as I searched frantically for a way out. The back of my knees hit a desk and I had to reach my hands back to stop me from toppling over it. I let out a squeak as I tried to regain my footing but it was too late. Dracula towered over me, so close I could smell his cologne. My face was turned away from him so I wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. I had a feeling that if I did he would devour me whole.

“Tell me why,” a whisper. His breath smelled like copper. “I will not have you of all people cowering from me.”

“Renfield was committed to a psychiatric ward this morning,” I blurted.

“Your voice,” he said.

Another squeak escaped my mouth as he grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. I expected to be met with a monstrous face but it was just him. Familiar dark eyes and lush lips. His stare fell from mine to my neck and he furrowed his eyebrows. His bite was well concealed under my shirt but the ligature mark was just beneath my jaw and in plain sight.

“He attacked me,” I provided in my frail voice. “Because you bit me.”

He pulled his lips down. Anger or disapproval, I wasn’t sure.

“I see,” he muttered.

“Is that what will become of me?” I asked.

“I told you-- I would never make you a servant.”

“No. Will I become a monster like you? Will I be uncaring? Will I enslave people? Kill them, torture them?”

He squished my cheeks between his fingers with every word I spoke. Perhaps provoking him wasn't a smart choice but I wouldn't simply lower my head and accept my fate.

“Only if you wish," he replied.

“You won’t even try denying it?”

“If I did I would be a hypocrite. And you think you are without blame.”

“Me?! How am I to blame for anything?"

He loosened his grip on my face until he finally allowed his hand to rest on the side of my neck.

“Yes, you. You the lawyer that defends robbers, murderers and rapists. And you know what’s interesting? I haven’t found much guilt about it in your blood. And now you accuse me of such things with disgust in your face? That, my dear, is a hypocrite.”

I swallowed his vitriol and it burned on the way down. Suddenly I didn’t like being provoked as much as I liked doing so.

“You ruined Frank!” I blinked at using Renfield’s first name. “He went mental today! Never in his life--”

“He’s weak , always has been but you never saw it. One look. One look was what it took for him to practically kneel before me. You shouldn’t hold people like him in such high standards.”

“Doesn’t bloody matter, he’s my friend!" The threat of tears made my voice tremble and I caught hold of myself before they spilled. “I don’t suppose you understand what that means.”

The snarl on his face made me think he would kill me right there.

“I should kill Renfield for what he did,” he murmured, stare searing into me. “But you wouldn’t like that.”

“Why does it matter what I like, Impaler?”

His brows softened as comprehension crossed his face and his lips parted in a grin.

“That is why you’re afraid, isn’t it? My darling, that was my human life, you have no need to worry.”

“And you’ve been an angel since then?”

“Oh never.”

I shifted uncomfortably. I was still supporting myself with my hands on the table behind me, slightly tipping backwards so the Count didn’t crawl on top of me.

Did I see a monster when I looked at him? Quite honestly no, yet I knew I should. He had done horrible things and I only knew about the things history had kept record of. I had learnt over the years that people are complicated. I had never met one person that was fully good or bad. If I had to classify myself, I wouldn’t know. My entire job was one big gray area. I swiveled around the lines of good and bad, never fully committing to any of them because I was paid for it. That wasn’t to say I didn’t have my own moral compass outside of the law. Count Dracula however… I had yet to find out if he had any moral compass at all.

“Will Renfield get better?” I questioned.

“He might. It’s difficult to predict how my power can affect some individuals, but he will remain my servant, that much I know. And he won’t attack you again, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Let him go.”

“I will not. He's quite good at being a servant.”

Renfield’s shouting replayed on my head.

“Let him go and I’ll let you feed from me whenever you want,” I said, shocking myself with my words. “But know this, I will never be yours.”

“Another deal? Tempting.” He licked his lips and my stomach coiled. “So very tempting.”

He reached to my waist, digging his fingers in my skin and I held back a gasp.

“Take the deal,” I urged.

Excitement grew within me. I preferred to believe that that was due to the possibility of tricking the Count into another deal but the tingling scar on my neck told a different story. I closed my eyes trying to concentrate and take full control of my body but it wasn’t responsive to rational thought. If he took the deal then it meant freedom for Renfield. That’s where my mind should be, not the rush of pleasure I had felt three nights ago when Count Dracula had bitten me. But by God, that’s what I wanted. I wanted to feel it again, feel his teeth sinking into my flesh and the dreamlike daze that followed.

Dracula’s arm circled me and smashed my body to his in a single motion, causing the gasp I had been holding to escape my lips. His thumb caressed my jawline while his fingers teased the back of my neck. In the little light between us I saw his black eyes swimming in carmine red. My heartbeat quickened lower in me when his tongue snaked out once again to lick his lips. Suddenly his fingers found my scar and massaged it lightly, evoking a moan from me. I rose my hands to hold his shoulders as an attempt to balance myself.

I felt more than heard his laughter.

“Look at you," he said. As he spoke I caught a flash of long and jagged teeth before it was gone. “‘I’ll never be yours .’ Liar, liar.”

I collected myself and pushed him away when I realised he was mocking me. He didn't move at fist but when I pushed him again he stepped back of his own volition, still laughing.

“Are you taking the fucking deal or not?”

“No,” he enunciated the word slowly. “I like this game we’re playing and I don’t want it to be over just yet. As powerful as you think you are, you don’t have the power to control me with your blood. I’ve granted you enough as it is.”

“I wasn’t trying-”

“Don’t lie.”

I closed my hands in fists.

“Fine. Can you at least say you’re sorry?”

“For what?” He raised his eyebrows.

“For Renfield,” I snapped, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“Do you want me to lie to make you feel better?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“I wish Renfield hadn’t attacked you,” he said, sticking his hands on his pockets.

“That wasn’t the apology I was looking for.”

“I know.”

Why did I even want an apology? Was I desperate to find some semblance of regret on him? Desperate to find anything remotely good in him to justify my desire for him? I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep the tears away, hating myself for letting him affect me like that. My whole body desired him while I knew I should hate him for what he did to Renfield, for what he was doing to me. It made me feel like his plaything.

“Can you please leave? I have work to do.”

He nodded.

“I assume you’ll take over as my lawyer to assort my affairs.”

“Not like I have an option, is it?”

“Quite. I’ll leave you to it. See you Wednesday!"

He had already turned away, walking back to the elevator when I fully registered what he said.

“What happens on Wednesday?” I rose my voice to get his attention.

"I take you on a date," he answered over his shoulder.

I marched after him and stopped when I realised what I was doing. What could I possibly do or say to threaten a creature like him? I probably bothered him as much as soft wind did.

"I'm not going on a date with you after what happened today."

He slowly turned to face me again, a big grin on his face. A victorious grin. If he was winning, then I was on the losing side - of what, though?

“Oh but you are. Your deal clearly stated that I am to convince you that immortality is worth it. You didn’t express how I should do it. Therefore that end of the deal is mine to fulfill however I wish. ”

I groaned. Had I removed my brain at some point when I made that deal? I was used to being the winner inside courtrooms, and I had stupidly condemned myself by binding a contract between Count Dracula and I. As much as I would like to withdraw it, I didn't think he would be open to the idea. He had made it clear that he would make me a vampire whether I liked it or not. I had no choice but to abide by my own rules until I came up with a way out.

“I’d rather meet you," I said at last. "Where are we going?”

He smiled widely as he walked backwards, facing me.

“I’ll text you on Wednesday. Goodnight, darling.”

“Night, Dracula.”

Taglist: @festering-queen @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @thorin-smokin-shield @hoefordarkness @dreamer2381 @girlonfireice

#dracula fanfic #dracula 2020 #dracula netflix #dracula bbc fanfic #claes bang #claes bang fanfic #c #dracula bbc #dracula x reader #vampire fanfic #bbc dracula #distorted lullabies

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smooshjames · 5 years ago

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forget you not (iv)

you knock on my door and tell me you don’t wanna fight (or: inside jokes and invitations)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: part four of forget you not! this is the second to last part as it stands right now, but i am toying with the idea of writing an epilogue. i haven’t made up my mind on that front quite yet, it’ll probably depend on if there’s any demand for an epilogue once the parts i’ve got written are all finished up. anyway, the usual disclaimers: i didn’t write any of the songs mentioned, they all belong to little mix, this chapter’s songs are here and here (no new ones this time, but i figure i’ll link them anyway for the sake of easy access). here is a link to my ko-fi, which, as usual, is never an obligation. thank you for taking the time to read this, and i hope you enjoy!

warnings: more angst (surprising, right?), an author who is very bad at sketch comedy trying to write characters who are very good at sketch comedy

previous parts: one, two, three

With the red dot on the cameras blinking, you knew it was even more important now that you kept up that positive facade. You did your best to think about good things, hoping your smile wouldn’t look too forced.

To your right, Shayne launched into an energetic intro where he explained the rules of the game and introduced you guys as guests. Once he had given his little speech, he turned to you, though his eyes were fixed on the partition over your shoulder. Still, his smile didn’t waver for even a second. “So, are you guys ready to play?”

You nodded enthusiastically and laughed in easy agreement as you were elected to be the first person in the stool. You filled your mouth with water and flashed a thumbs-up, and out came Alexis. She used an inside joke, which was probably cheating, but it made you spit your water out anyway.

The game went on like this for a while, until finally, the only person yet to try to make you laugh was Shayne. You braced yourself as he asked if you were ready, humming an affirmative and doing your best to keep your breathing even.

He came out holding a red telephone, which he set on top of the bongos.

“Watch this,” he said, flashing you a shit-eating grin. For a second, you felt yourself tilting forward into that grin, into those eyes. Your heart jackhammered in your chest. It was the first genuine smile he’d given you all day, and God it was beautiful. “Hi, Dominos? You’re my favorite pizza place.”

You knitted your eyebrows in confusion.

“Watch this though,” he said. He mashed his finger against the phone buttons and lifted it again. “Hi, Pizza Hut? You’re my favorite pizza place.”

And then he nodded at you a little, smiling expectantly. When you didn’t laugh, he held up one finger. “Watch this though.”

With his free hand, he made a sort of waving motion in the direction of the partition, and out came Damien holding an identical red phone. He handed it to you and then went back to where all the props were. Shayne dialed his phone and made a little ringing sound effect for emphasis. You picked up your phone.

“Hi, Y/N?” he asked. You hummed something vaguely resembling “hello” into the receiver, figuring you might as well play along with the bit. In the same voice, with that same shit-eating grin, he said, “you’re my favorite singer.”

You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the strange vocal inflection or the mirth in his eyes as he said it, but sure enough, you sprayed water all over the soundstage. Shayne laughed gleefully as you did so, and the sound of it made you forget to breathe for just a second; you hadn’t heard that laugh in years. It made your chest ache to hear it again. In a sort of daze, you handed him your prop and he took it backstage.

Everyone came back out and you had to choose who made you laugh the hardest. You picked Damien, who had pranced out in an insanely tangled red wig with a stuffed flamingo in one hand, partially because he had made you laugh really hard and partially because you were trying to procrastinate Shayne's turn as much as possible.

Damien’s round passed quickly, and you managed to make him laugh after a few seconds. He chose Piper to go next, so she took her place on the stool. You went backstage with everyone else and started sifting through props to think of a bit.

And then Shayne fully took his shirt off.

You froze halfway through picking up a cowboy hat. You were pretty sure that anyone listening closely enough could’ve heard the gears in your brain grinding to a halt.

You wondered, if you started running now, how far into the ocean you could get before anyone noticed you were gone.

Carly nudged you with her elbow and asked you to help her with a bit, forcing you to turn away from Shayne, which was probably for the best. You took the opportunity to remind yourself that not only did he have a new girlfriend, but that the two of you didn’t work. You never had and you never would.

And before you knew it, Piper’s round was over, and Shayne was up next. You felt a bolt of panic. You knew you could make him laugh, but you weren’t sure how to go about doing it and you were rapidly running out of time to figure it out. Finally, you decided against every bit of logic you had. You decided to just go with an inside joke.

He probably wouldn’t remember it, anyway. It didn’t really matter. If you didn’t make him laugh it wasn’t the end of the world. At the end of that day, you were just here to promote the band.

At least, this is what you told yourself as you stood behind the partition waiting for your turn. But your hands were trembling anyway.

Your turn came up. Alexis gave you a little high five on your way out. You walked up to Shayne’s right side and leaned in close to him, careful not to touch him. You looked at him through your eyelashes and shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Hey,” you said, voice low and sultry. Shayne’s brows knitted in confusion, and you feared for a moment that he had forgotten. You were probably only half-audible to the mics, but you didn’t care. You were focused single-mindedly on making Shayne laugh. “I was just wondering… do you like tacos?” You were careful to drag out the vowels on the word ‘tacos.’ You heard Damien start giggling behind the partition.

At least he remembered.

And then Shayne’s eyes widened and he surged forward as he tried to keep the water in. Your heart skipped a beat, though you couldn’t quite pin down why.

“Do you like tacos, Shayne? Do you?” you asked, leaning a little closer. You felt more confident now that you knew he remembered the joke. “Tell me how much you like tacos, Shayne.”

That did the trick. He sprayed water everywhere, shrieking with laughter as he did so.

Once the water was cleaned up, everyone else came back out from behind the partition and Shayne chose Alexis to go next.

After Alexis, it was Carly’s turn, and then you were all done. You had even finished a little bit ahead of schedule.

Ian came over once the cameras were cut, smiling brightly. “That was really good, you guys! Thanks so much for coming in today.”

“Thanks for having us!” Alexis said. “It was a ton of fun.”

You nodded in agreement but you were only half-listening. Shayne had somehow ended up right next to you during the outro of the video, and he hadn't made an effort to move away after the cameras stopped rolling. He was close to you, maybe a little closer than necessary, and that fact was all you could focus on.

As you were listening to Ian talk about when the video would be released, you felt Shayne wrap his hand around your forearm, squeezing lightly to get your attention. That one simple touch set your entire right side on fire. You felt like he’d lit off a fireworks display under your skin. You turned to face him, and you couldn’t help noticing that he looked more than a little bit like a kicked puppy.

“Can we talk?” he asked. His voice was soft, a stark contrast to how loud he’d been just minutes before as you were filming the video outro. “Just for a few minutes, please?”

At these questions, a knot of mixed emotion -- fear, anger, a little misguided hope -- gathered in a knot at the base of your spine and squeezed so hard you went lightheaded with it.

You glanced around for Michelle, who was watching you like a hawk. You tilted your head toward Shayne and shrugged. She nodded.

“Okay,” you replied. In all honesty, you weren’t sure why you said yes. You didn’t know what he could possibly have to say to you. Your mind raced with all the worst-case scenarios; that he would rub his new girlfriend in your face, that he would say something mean or insulting, that he would tear down what little you had managed to build yourself up. You wrestled those ideas into submission, though. Shayne had made his mistakes, but he had never been intentionally cruel.

He led you back through the office until he found an empty conference room. You closed the door behind you as you entered.

“What’s up?” you asked. You cringed as it was coming out of your mouth. Really? What’s up?

Now that you were alone, some of his forced Funny Man bravado seemed to crumble away. His shoulders slumped and the shine went out of his eyes, and the look he gave you was sad, exhausted.

You felt like the earth was rotating the wrong way, like God had vacuum sealed the room shut, like Saturn was crashing into Jupiter and imploding on impact.

“I, um…” he mumbled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and chuckled nervously. For a moment, you were reminded of the first time he’d asked you out. You’d both been so young then, and he had been all nerves and goofy smiles. You knew even from that first conversation that you were a goner. “I should’ve planned out what I was gonna say, huh? I had all weekend to think about it.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said. “This weekend has been… a series of really fucking weird, awful coincidences. You don’t have to, like, apologize. We’ll just chalk it up to being a series of unfortunate events.”

His brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly, which really intensified the whole kicked puppy vibe he had going. Your heart ached, and there was a moment where the muscles in your legs twitched, where your body tried to move itself over to him without your brain’s consent.

You stayed rooted to your place.

“What?” he asked, voice small, barely even audible over the hum of the air conditioning.

You shrugged. “It’s okay, Shayne. I’m not, like, upset that you moved on --”

Bold-faced lie number one.

“Wait,” he said, but you couldn’t hear him over the blood roaring through your ears.

“-- and Courtney seems really nice, so I’m happy that you’re happy --”

Bold-faced lie number two.

“No, just --” he tried to interrupt you again, but you kept going.

“-- and I’m sorry that we had to see each other again in this context, it’s been… really fucking weird. But that doesn’t mean you need to try to make it better, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

Bold-faced lie number three.

Before you could conjure up more ways to end the conversation and escape the room, Shayne took a halting step forward.

“Courtney and I aren’t dating,” he said. Your mouth snapped shut as your brain slammed on the brakes. “We’re just friends. I went to the concert with her because the person she was supposed to go with canceled last minute and she couldn’t find anybody else.”

Oh.

“And I’m sorry we had to see each other again in this context, too, but not because I want to patronize you by telling you that I’m sorry things didn’t work out. I mean I am sorry things didn’t work out, but not in like a My Life Is Better Now, Sorry About That kinda way --” he stopped, faltering, obviously unsure of how to put his thoughts into words.

Oh.

“I mean, if anything, you’re the one who’s better now; --” wait, what? “-- you’re successful, doing what you love, surrounded by your friends, and you’ve clearly moved on. --” wait, what? “-- But I just wanted to talk to you because… I don’t really know why, honestly. Because a part of me is still twenty-one and in love with you, I guess.”

So that was what it was like to have every organ in your body simultaneously crushed under a hydraulic press. Interesting.

You couldn’t think of anything poetic to say, so you settled for what seemed the most pressing. “You think I cried on stage singing Towers, a song I wrote about you, because I’m over you? You think I’m the one who’s moved on?”

He shrugged meekly. “I don’t know. That was just one song. You sang a hell of a lot of other songs about how you don’t need a man, about how your life is great. And those aren’t bad things! They were really good songs, but I just assumed --”

“Carly and Alexis wrote all those songs,” you said flatly. He fell silent. “I just sing them.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed to last an eternity, and then there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Shayne said, his eyes still locked on yours.

A tall brunet man with a thick beard opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Hey,” he said. “There’s a meeting in here in five minutes.” And then he looked between the two of you, and his eyes narrowed. You figured the tension in the room was so palpable, even a stranger could pick up on it. “Everything okay, Shayne?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Shayne replied. “We’ll be out of here in a minute. Sorry, Matt.”

“No problem,” the man, Matt, said. He nodded at you in acknowledgment, seeming more than a little confused at your presence. The door closed softly as he left.

“It’s probably for the best,” you said. “Michelle will have a coronary if I’m gone for too long. Places to be, people to see, insanely specific and personal questions to answer.”

He laughed a little bit, nodding, and for a moment the heavy awkwardness that had settled in the room seemed to lift just slightly. “Is your number still the same?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why?”

“I’ll text you my new address. Um, if you can, if you want to, it would probably be good for you to come over tonight to talk a little more. I can order some dinner for us. Only if you want to. I just don’t think… I don’t want to leave things this way.”

A sudden bolt of anger streaked through you, fiery hot. You clenched your jaw. He didn’t want to leave things this way? He had no qualms with leaving things this way when he’d let your entire relationship go down the drain all those years ago. And now he just got to waltz back in and invite you over for dinner and pretend he didn’t cause you the worst heartbreak you’d ever felt? After you had finally gotten yourself close to okay again, he got to come back in and ruin everything, knock you right back down to where you started? That wasn’t fucking fair.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” you said, and it wasn’t a lie. You still had one more interview after leaving the Smosh offices. You’d be completely worn out by the time that was done, especially on top of the exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster that you’d boarded against your will.

“I’ll send the address anyway,” Shayne said. “Don’t feel pressured to come. If you don’t, I completely get it. You can delete the text and block my number if you want. I swear that after this I’ll never bother you again. But just in case.”

“Okay,” you replied. You really didn’t want to argue with him. You just wanted to track down Michelle and the band and go on your way to the next interview and try to forget about everything that had happened in the last three days. “Fine.”

He nodded and pulled out his phone, and after a moment you felt your own vibrate in your back pocket. You wondered briefly if he had your number memorized, which would have been kind of weird, or if he’d just never deleted your contact information. The notion that the latter might be true made your heart skip a beat.

Once he had repocketed his phone, he looked up at you. There was a moment of lingering silence where it was clear that neither of you knew what to say.

Finally, you lifted your hand in farewell. “It’s been, um… it was good to see you again, Shayne.” Bold-faced lie number four. “Bye.”

“Bye, Y/N,” he said.

Doing your best to ignore the tightness in his voice, you walked past him out of the room and scurried off to meet up with the band. You found them talking to Courtney, Damien, and another girl that you didn’t recognize. She was about Courtney’s height, Chinese, with brown hair and eyes.

“Ready to go, Y/N?” Piper asked.

“I think so,” you said. You turned to Damien and nodded your head over your shoulder. “Got a minute for goodbye?”

He nodded and the two of you retreated away from the rest of the group, not leaving their view but definitely out of earshot. “I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you,” he said.

“It’s okay, Damien, really,” you replied. You reached out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “This weekend was wild for everybody involved. At least we got to see each other again, right? This has been really nice.”

He grinned and pulled you into another bear hug. “Yeah, it has been,” he said, and you felt it as a rumble in his chest more than you actually heard it. When you parted, he left one hand lingering on your arm and squeezed lightly before it dropped to his side. “Call sometime, okay? I’ve missed you.”

“Will do, Dames.” You glanced over your shoulder and saw Michelle looking at you expectantly. She tapped her wristwatch. You sighed. “I gotta run. I’ll see you around.”

He nodded and said a final goodbye before you turned to make your way back to the band. You noted on your way that Shayne had returned from the conference room. He was talking to Courtney and the brunette now.

You ignored the feeling of his eyes on you as you walked out of the offices and into the LA sunlight beyond.

***

Shayne came back from the conference room a few seconds after you did. He did his best not to watch you and Damien saying goodbye, did his best to push down the surge of jealousy as you hugged him. You were smiling up at him and it seemed easy, carefree. It was like you’d just seen each other yesterday. He wished he could be like that with you, even though he knew why he couldn’t. He was doomed to sad smiles and airless rooms and awkward tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

If time travel was real, he’d go back to that final night with you and kick his own ass.

Damien’s hand on his shoulder startled him out of his self-loathing. He turned to face his best friend and didn’t bother concealing the hurt on his face; Damien would see right past it even if he tried.

“You okay?” Damien asked. Shayne let out a strangled laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay.

“I feel like somebody tried to wring all the water out of my body,” he replied.

“What’s up with you today?” Courtney asked, and Shayne startled. He’d sort of forgotten she was there.

Shayne sighed. He figured he might as well tell her; she’d probably find out at some point anyway. That or she’d piece it together herself.

“Y/N and I used to be a couple, way back when,” he said. Courtney’s eyes went almost comically wide. “And it… didn’t end very well. Seeing each other again has been really fucking weird for both of us.”

“That’s why she cried when she sang Towers,” Courtney said, more to herself than to anyone in the room. She looked at Damien. “Is that why you know her? ‘Cause of her and Shayne?”

Damien shook his head. “Me and her were friends first. I introduced them.”

Courtney nodded slowly, obviously trying to process this new information. “Oh,” she said. Shayne couldn’t tell where her brain was (he rarely could). If he had to guess, he’d say she was probably combing over her every memory of the past weekend and looking for any indications of the history between you and Shayne. Sure enough, she continued after a moment: “that’s why she looked so constipated when we were at the photo op, and why you ‘needed some air’ halfway through the concert, and why you got all weird when I put my arm around your shoulders before, and why you disappeared after --” she stopped, her brows furrowing for a moment and then raising suddenly. She smirked. “Where’d you go after you finished filming, Shayne? You both came back pretty much at the same time.”

“Courtney --” Shayne said, voice scolding, trying to get her to stop whatever hellish train of thought she was getting onto.

“You’re still in love with her, huh?” Olivia said. She’d been silent for most of the conversation, but she was looking at him like she could see into his soul. Shayne froze. Was he that fucking obvious?

“Still in love with who?” Ian’s voice to his left startled him.

Courtney and Olivia stopped talking now, which Shayne was grateful for. They at least had the decency to let Shayne tell Ian on his own. Everyone looked from Ian to Shayne and back.

“Uh --” Shayne said. “I, um…”

“Is this about whatever weird shit is between you and the girl from the band?” Ian asked. Shayne threw his hands in the air, frustrated. Did the whole world know? Was he that easy to read?

“How did you…?”

“I’ve known you for almost five years, Shayne,” Ian replied. “You looked like you wanted to die during that entire shoot. There were a couple of moments it was so bad that I almost asked Courtney to come in and take your place. But the crew people said it didn’t come through on camera, so I just chalked it up to the fact that I know you so well. You also left with her right after we were done filming. Putting two and two together here doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientist.”

Shayne sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, which made it look even more insane than it usually did. “We dated years ago. The way it ended was my fault. I shouldn’t have broken up with her. I shouldn’t have let her go. She was… she is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. This weekend has rubbed everything I did wrong right into my face.”

“Is that it, then?” Courtney asked. “She walks out of here and you let her? After the universe, fate, whatever you wanna call it put in all the effort to bring you together again… you let her go? You repeat your biggest mistake?”

Shayne had to force down an anguished sound at that. He knew Courtney was trying to get him to chase after you, but in reality, she was probably right. You wouldn’t want to come to his apartment to talk things out. You wouldn’t want to see him after everything. You wouldn’t forgive him. And he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, anyway. You were absolutely right to ignore the invitation.

“I asked if she would come over,” he said. He was trying to be hopeful. But he’d seen the way your eyes narrowed when he invited you to his place. Your jaw had dropped and then tightened in that way it did when you were torn between anger and disbelief. “If she does, maybe we can talk things out. But it’s been years. I don’t know if she’ll… I don’t know, you guys.”

He was breathing, that much he knew, but he was sort of starting to wonder if someone had poked a hole in his trachea because he was pretty sure the air wasn’t making it to his lungs. He looked around at his friends, all staring at him like he should know the answer, like he should be able to just whip a magical solution out of his ass and call it a day, a happy ending with a neat little bow.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” he said, a little louder than necessary, because the room was suddenly way too fucking small. Before anyone could object, he walked quickly away from the group and down the hall until he found an empty soundstage. He slumped against the wall and slid down onto the ground. The events of the last three days were piling onto his shoulders like bricks. Memories of you were branded onto his brain and he couldn’t stop replaying them, a highlight reel of what he’d had and what he’d lost. You, years ago, laughing and looking at him like he was the only person in the room. You, years ago, standing in the living room, looking at him like he’d just driven a knife through your heart.

In an instant, he felt like Atlas, holding the weight of his own mistakes. Holding memories both good and bad; your first date, your first kiss, your first fight. You had said ‘I love you’ first because he wasn't brave enough, and you’d looked terrified as you did it, like you were afraid he’d laugh at you and push you away. You’d always looked half-scared, he realized; scared of rejection and pain and heartbreak. And he’d gone and thrown those fears right back in your face.

It took about three seconds for Shayne to collapse in on himself. He barely made it to the couch before his knees gave out on him. He stared up at the ceiling for a long while, desperately trying to process whatever the hell had just happened.

You were gone, and the apartment felt empty without you. It was a new type of loneliness, one he’d never experienced before. He felt a little like his chest was caving in and little like he was astral projecting, like he wasn’t quite contained within the walls of his body. He reached for his phone and sent you a barely-coherent text, apologizing and asking you to come home. And then he texted Damien and asked if he was home. He needed someone’s company.

He stared up at his ceiling while he awaited a response, considering all the things that had led him to this newest, most monumental fuck-up. Suddenly, the time he’d forgotten your birthday made him look like Boyfriend of the Year.

And then he reached into his pocket and he produced the little blue box he’d gotten just yesterday, and he opened it and looked at the ring inside. Not too flashy -- he didn’t have the money for any big diamonds, and you’d once joked that you didn’t want your engagement ring to weigh five tons. He smiled at the memory and traced his finger over the small diamond at the center of the ring.

God, what the fuck had he just done?

Shayne’s head thumped against the wall behind him, and he cried.

#shayne topp x reader #shayne topp #eliza.txt #forget you not

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peckin-pat-marlow · 4 years ago

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Tagged by @captain-teddy-reese

50 Questions: OC Interview

1. What’s your name?

“Howdy. I’m Patricia Marlow.”

2. Give us your full name

“...Ah fine! My middle name’s Winifred... Patricia...Winifred...Marlow.

3. Do you have a nickname? If yes, what is it and how did you come to have it?

“I’ve been called shorter of my names: Pat, Patsy, Patty Cake (don’t bother askin’ why.) But folks way out south west know me as “Peckin’ Pat Marlow. I shot my town’s sheriff the day after...his obstruction of justice. Gave him that kiss he wanted afterwards. And it became a habit with anyone I killed as leader of the Marlow Marauders.”

4. What species are you? (Human, werewolf, etc? Or are you an alien?)

“Last I checked...I’m still human.”

5. Where were you born?

“I was born in a town the south west of texas. It was famous for its large lake and gold mine a few miles out. Just make sure you have ginseng and special vegetation for the snakes and lizards...I wouldn’t head there if I were you. Hasn’t rained for 13 years.”

6. I see. And that would make your age...?

“That would make me...36 years old.”

7. Okay, now...are you a good guy, or a bad guy?

“What I’ve done doesn’t make me a saint, but it don’t mean I have bad morals.”

Part II: Tell Us More About Yourself...

8. How would you describe your personality?

“Back before I was soft, sweet and kind..had to be for the kids, but I still held myself firm for the adults as well. When the town reared it’s ugly head...I became a different person; ruthless, vengeful, hard hearted, didn’t take shit from no person when it came to me and my gang. It take no responsibility for indirect harm because they didn’t handle circumstances better! I was willing to do whatever it takes to get vengeance not with death, but with nothin’ for ‘em left! But I couldn’t my gang be taken with me in my final moments.

But after that last score, when I suddenly found myself alive and rescued. I began to mellow out...I still had my temper and was satisfied with what I’ve accomplished, but I became more aware of how the world was changing. So I just wander the lands to keep an eye on this changing world and hope it’s for the better.”

9. Would you say you're someone who can handle pressure?

“I’ve had moments where I was frustrated...but I’ve managed to maintain my composure around misbehaving kids and disrespectful adults.”

10. Do you like to read?

“Well, yeah. What kind of teacher doesn’t like to read?”

11. Favourite Colour

“I’ve grown fond of the colour black.”

12. Do you get along with others?

“Just because I get along with people doesn’t mean I like them. I do so to get the job done, and if they don’t cross me I choose them to stick close and see how things turn out.”

13. Do you have any enemies?

“Many could call me their enemy, but the one I call my nemesis won’t bother me anymore...”

14. How about friends?

“I became friends with my gang through the trust and teamwork we had for over 13 years. I’m sure they’re all fine and free. I have met other folks but I can’t call them friends just yet.”

15. Are you patient?

“I can be...When your a teacher you have to be patient to know more about situations.”

Part lll: Hypothetically...

16. Suppose that you could become any creature you know of. What would you pick, and why?

“I’ll say a cougar. They’re just as vicious, independent, dexterous, with some self indulgence. They can still purr, y’know?”

17. One of your enemies in question 13 just complimented you. Response?

“Which one? If it’s Gill then he’s complimenting me with sarcasm and rage since he’s still not found the loot. His generation’s gonna be diggin’ for years and won’t be the ones to find it.”

18. One of your friends in Question 14 just insulted you. Response?

“I prefer their insults as criticism. But at least their words won’t mean they betray me straight away.”

19. If you could change anything about yourself...

“I can’t see me changin’ anytime soon...but I guess I gotta find somethin’ else to do without second guessin’.”

20. About your home...

“It ain’t like a manor, but It had enough space for my parents and my things...But it was so damn expensive thanks to Gill’s daddy...it got burnt down by an angry mob, along with my school, Miles’s stand and his donkey, Sally-Ann...

Part IV: Now We Get Personal

21. What're your parents like?

“They were geniuses compared to the other folk in town. Both of em met in the city where they got their degree. I don’t think their families approved though, as I haven’t heard a thing about my grandparents. But they were good people using their money to buy two properties, for my home and school.

But I can’t give em that. Their last wish was to make sure I improved the head on my soldiers before they slowly died together from Diphtheria...I didn’t know they passed until Miles came to check on me.”

22. Do you have any siblings?

“None. I was an only child, thank goodness. If I had a younger baby sister, Gill would target her more than me...”

23. What's your occupation?

“I used to be a teacher in my hometown. Since I was the only women with the knowledge thanks to my parents education, I took up the role. Taught both kids and adults to read and write.”

24. I see, that's a good job to have. Do you like it?

“I enjoyed my job when it came to the kids. Nothin made me feel better than givin’ them somewhere to be while adults did their own thing, though I wished I could have give them more subjects, but reading and writing was more tolerable to teach than the other things that adults couldn’t make sense of. As for the adults...I won’t lie there are some worse than the children. Way worse.”

25. Are you seeing/dating anyone?

“No...”

26. Married/Engaged/Other?

“I wished for that with someone once.”

27. If yes, how did you meet?

“...I met Miles Wiley when I first came to town after my parents moved. He was a vegetable farmer with a donkey he claimed was over a century old from the vegetables he ate. Many folks who can’t afford the doctor’s fee often came to him for tonics, ointments, all sorts of ailments that were reliable, especially for the gold miners who came for the juice as repellent for the lizards. Before me he was the only stranger in that town...He made me welcome even after I took over the town’s teacher and helped repair my school, only askin’ for the spiced apricots I made.

But the town found out how close we really was from our first...and last kiss. He only wanted to fix me after being broken down for so long...We tried to escape by boat, but of course Gill had his ferry and me and Miles weren’t much of a shot...He wasn’t even armed but he shot him...he shot him even as I held him.

28. Tell us your biggest secret.

“Aside from people thinkin’ I’m dead? Everyone knew about me and Miles so I got no big secret to hide.”

29. Your worst fear? You don't have to answer this one if you don't want to.

“After what the Sheriff did, I fear being put into that situation again where I was taken advantage of right under others noses...Then there’s being in the middle of a ring of fire.”

30. Favorite food?

“I may had made spiced apricots once upon a time but it ain’t my favourite food. I don’t have it as much as I like to...but I do miss that Pecan pie.”

30. Favorite drink?

“Spiced Island Moonshine. I just discovered this recipe and it tastes like the goods of home and warm escape. I could kiss Marcel for makin’ this but... then I’d have have to kill him.”

31. Tell us one thing you're the most proud of.

“I would have said getting revenge on Gill for killing Miles was the best thing that happened...But I never imagined letting the group go free after our last score would take that. Some graduation, huh?”

32. Something embarrassing? You don't have to answer this one, either.

“Whatever is embarrassing is what happens when I’m drunk...”

33. If you didn't answer Questions 29 and/or 33, tell me why.

“I may have mellowed out from my recovery, but I have my damn pride still.”

34. Is that a good reason?

“Just take it as you will...”

Part V: Closing

35. Are you satisfied with your life?

“I felt like my life was nearly wasted than satisfied. I loved Miles but I wasted my life in that town. I remembered my gang more fondly than the town. But I’m still young to do somethin’.”

36. Anything you feel like you have to do? It can be something long-term, like a bucket list, or something you need to do right now.

“Well my vengeance has been achieved and leading a gang is something to tick off. I’m gonna start looking for things as Patricia Marlow and not Peckin’ Pat.”

37. Any hobbies?

“I have developed a thing for watching shows in the theatre, and I used to play the banjo to sing songs with kids. I’m sure I haven’t gone too rusty.”

38. Quick, you get one wish! What did you just wish for? It's alright, you can tell me...

“I wish Miles was alive....That’s the one thing I can’t have back.”

39. How would you describe that wish? Good? Bad? Selfish? Selfless? Other?

“I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of us...Folk wouldn’t have approved of us, but...we’d be more free if we got out together.”

40. Have you been honest with these questions?

“That I have...Now that you know me it’s all about what u gonna do?”

41. Your personal quote?

“The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

42. Do you like change?

“It’s what I fought for when things didn’t change enough...”

43. What's your most valued possession?

“Since they burned Miles’s body, I wasn’t left with much to remember him. It was a good thing I found his hat after I left town, but I haven’t taken it out of my satchel since.”

44. Anything else you feel like sharing?

“Not right now, I ain’t.”

50. Last question!...yup, that's it! How do you feel?

“Like a few pounds has been lifted off my shoulders. Or it might just be one of my firearms...Haha! Don’t worry, I just gotta reload.”

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead online #red dead oc #rdr2 oc #red dead roleplay #red dead rp #oc questions #patricia marlow #peckin’ pat marlow #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #oc interview

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smallerinfinities · 6 years ago

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Eleanor: Nine Years

a/n: Hello! I decided that with my time off from my series I’d write something I’d been thinking about for a really long time. An update of sorts but one that’s not ever really requested. I quite love Dad!Shawn and I hope you like this one too.

Previous parts linked in my masterlist!

warnings: just a whole lot of fucking softness and dad!Shawn feelings

“We need some help!”

Shawn crashed through the emergency room doors, cradling his half-conscious daughter in his arms. Her braided hair was matted with blood that ran down her cheek and mixed with the dirt still covering her face. He rushed to the registration counter, eyes wild, and met the doleful gaze of the ER triage nurse.

“Sir, what’s your emergency?” She asked in a flat, bored tone, like he wasn’t holding his nine-year-old daughter, who went limp a few minutes ago. He stared at her unblinkingly, barely straddling the line between calm crisis and blind rage. The bundle in his arms, more child-like than she’d felt in years, moaned in pain. Pleading with the nurse, he tried to summarize what happened the quickest way possible.

“M-my daughter, Eleanor,” he spewed out impatiently, “she was playing softball and collided with another girl. Her head has been bleeding for the last hour and I think her arm is broken.” He leaned over and showed the nurse the arm couched against his chest, bruised and at an unnatural angle. Her eyes widened and she picked up the nearest phone.

“Yes, I’m going to need an ortho consult in the ER, please. Yeah, neuro too.” She hung up and ushered him behind the automatic doors and into the ER bay. People seem to move with efficiency once the emergency one claims to have is deemed an actual emergency. The nurse led them into a private room and he deposited Eleanor onto the gurney.

“Okay, sir,” a different nurse came in with a rolling computer cart and stopped dead when she saw him, “I-I need to take some b-basic information from you so we can get things going with...her paperwork.” She looked at her shoes and then back to him three times over the course of her short statement. He knew she recognized him, but he was too laser-focused on the nine-year-old in the bed to notice her fierce blush. He shook his head to clear the anxiety, taking a few slow breaths. The nurse still hadn’t asked him anything so he stood up and started to pace.

“Are they going to bring her anything for the pain?” He ripped his fingers through his already disheveled and dust-caked hair. His eyes turned to her. She was still staring and blushing with her mouth open, unable to make anything come out. He closed his eyes and focused on the calm light blue color of the room. Deep breaths.

“Yes, I’m Shawn Mendes,” he says, tightening his jaw at the unprofessionalism, but maintaining the cool candor he’d always used with fans, “what information do you need from me to start caring for my daughter?”

That seemed to snap her out of it.

“Oh! Uhm, I just have a few forms for you to sign. I’ll send in the doctor right away.” She handed him a tablet and he started filling out information while she headed to the nurses’ station to page a doctor. He heard various acronyms like “VIP” and “ASAP” that made things move a little faster than normal.

Twenty minutes later, Eleanor had an IV pumping her full of pain meds and was happily humming one of Shawn’s old songs when they came and got her for x-ray. She swung her head around, lagging like her neck was devoid of bones, and looked at the radiology tech with glassy, drug-fogged eyes.

“He wrote that one for me,” she whispered, bringing her index finger on her good arm to her lips like it was a secret. Never mind the fact that the song was titled, “Eleanor.” He smiled wide as they wheeled her out, sliding his phone out of his back pocket. You picked up on the first ring.

“How is she?!” The panic was evident in your voice. You were at a conference across the country and had been eating lunch with an old graduate school friend when he’d called to tell you he was taking Elly to the hospital.

“She’s...” he chuckled, “well, she’s high as fuck right now. They just wheeled her into x-ray.”

“Oh good,” you exhaled the breath that had been festering in your chest since this afternoon. “What did they say about her head?”

“They’re keeping her overnight for observation, but she hasn’t shown any signs of concussion. She needed some stitches on her forehead though. I’m sure she’ll love showing that to her friends.” Shawn rolled his eyes at his tomboy daughter. Elly kept a detailed history of her scrapes and bruises like they were trophies. These stitches and the cast she was likely to get were going to go down in the hall of fame. He’d have to get Josiah to take a picture of her and immortalize it forever.

“Okay, baby, keep me updated,” you picked up your bag to leave your hotel room, “I have a networking drinks thing tonight...should I skip it?” He smiled against his phone pressed up against his face while he paced to diffuse his nervous energy, his dad hat sitting backward on his head.

“Honey, there’s nothing you can do three thousand miles away,” he looked up when he heard a bed rolling down the hallway toward the room, “go get drinks. Network. Be a badass. It’s what Elly would want you to do.” He heard your audible sigh.

“I’ll go...but I swear to God, Mendes,” you stood up and made sure your hotel key was in your pocket, “if anything happens you call me. She’s our baby girl.” The emotion in your voice was evident as you dropped a hand to your growing belly. You worried all the time what it would be like with the two of them so far apart.

“Loud and clear, Mendes,” he made a mock salute even though she couldn’t see him, “and hey?”

“What?”

“She’ll always be our baby girl.” You grinned at the way he always knew exactly how to put you at ease, exactly what to say when the anxiety started to build, “we’ll just have a baby boy to look after too.”

Hours later, Eleanor was fast asleep, her new sky blue cast reaching above her elbow and immobilized against her chest. Shawn couldn’t sleep with her little hand sitting limp in his. He needed her to be out of this hospital bed, awake and laughing at his dad jokes. The stillness scared him, even though he knew she was going to be fine. She hadn’t show any signs of concussion, just a few bumps and bruises on top of the arm and stitches.

He pulled out his phone to snap a photo to send you as an update, knowing you’d be just as sleepless as he was. Forgetting to turn off the flash, the room lit up momentarily and he cursed when she stirred.

“Daddy?”

His head shot up. She rarely called him that anymore, usually opting for the older and more distant “Dad,” which he kind of hated but would never tell her. Her face was scrunched and a light sheen covered her forehead. He knew she’d rather die than admit that she was hurting, so he took the liberty of calling the nurse in to administer some more pain medication. He was her dad after all, and dad’s really did know best. When the nurse left, she settled back into the pillows, waiting for it to pull her under again.

“Did you tell Mom?” she asked, a little bit of panic in her voice.

“Shhh, yes, sweetie. She knows everything,” he cooed, running his fingers through her hair. Eleanor hummed in quiet contentment, the meds making their way to her brain. Her eyes were already starting to close and he could tell she was struggling to stay with him.

“Daaaaaddy?” she stretched out the first syllable, her tongue slow to catch up.

“Yes, honey?”

“Turn off your flash.”

It was the last thing she said before a soft snore left her lips. He grinned, turning off his flash and taking another photo of her. Opening up his text with you, he sent it, an ellipses popping up almost immediately.

You looked at Elly in the photo, fast asleep with all the machines and her new cast and what seemed like half a world away from you. It was the most acute pain you’d felt since childbirth. The only thing keeping you from rushing to the airport was that Shawn was with her, keeping her safe.

The reply dinged just as he was closing his eyes. He peeked at the screen to read her message, his cheek pressed against Eleanor’s warm hand.

You: Our baby girl 💙

Love you guys!

permanent tag list: @justanotherfangurl272 @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @rodneywaber @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @the-claire-bitch-project @mendesromano @fromthicctosticc @esoltis280

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfic #dad!shawn #shawn peter raul mendes #my writing #eleanor

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littlebitwolfstar · 6 years ago

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It’s Not All Roses and Chocolates - a Drarry fanfiction

Hey everyone! Ive been working on this fiction that I’m not sure if I should keep going with it so I decided I would post the introduction to it here and see what everyone thinks. Id love some feedback if you have the time! Let me know your thoughts and perhaps I’ll make it a full length fiction.

Returning to Hogwarts was a surreal feeling for Harry. He never thought he would be going back to finish school after everything that had happened during what should have been his seventh year. The Great Battle left the whole castle in ruin. It took them two years to finish renovating the school to its former glory and staring up at the castle now, it looked as if nothing had happened.

They had started referring to it as their eighth year. There were only about twenty of them in total who returned, so they had “added” an extra dorm for all of them, all houses rooming together. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that it was just the Room of Requirement giving them what they need, but he only brought that up with Ron.

Harry hadn’t even planned to go back at first. There were too many terrible memories here that he didn’t wish to relive. But Hermione and Ron were both going back, as were Dean and Seamus and Luna and Neville.

Ginny left England to go and research new healing spells in Egypt. She had decided it was for the best if they went their separate ways. It hurt but Harry understood why she said it. He would have waited forever for her, or even followed her to Egypt, but there would be nothing there for him. Everything that mattered in his life was in England, and he had to make sure he could be around when Teddy started to get older He was just beginning to talk when Harry saw him last, right before he left for school. He had started to take after his mother very early on, often taking on a pig’s tail or a set of fluffy wolf ears. Harry hated leaving him, but it was only one more year.

“Harry, come on mate. The sorting will be starting in a moment” Ron waved his hand in front of Harry’s face breaking him out of his daydream.

“Sorry Ron, it’s just so odd being back here.”

“I know what you mean. It looks like nothing happened here at all” He wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gave him a tight squeeze. “We are in this together. Just like the old times”

“Yeah. Together”

Walking into the Great Hall, Harry noticed the walls were now lined in individual candles, each with a name floating in the flames. Most of them he recognized, some he didn’t and that made his sad. They had all died for him, because of him.

Ron leaded Harry over to a fifth table, much smaller than the others at the far end of the hall where the rest of their friends sat. Hermione smiled and kissed Ron’s cheek as he sat down next to her. Luna smiled and waved at Harry from down the way with Neville by her side. Dean and Seamus laughed in hushed tones across the table. Everyone looked much older than the nineteen years they should be. Harry let his eyes wander to each face at the table. One by one, taking in every inch of his friends as if afraid it would be the last time he saw them.

And then, at the opposite end of the table, hair as blonde as ever and a deep green scarf wrapped around his neck, sat Draco Malfoy. He wasn’t look towards Harry. He was looking up at the candles, taking in each name as Harry had done only minutes before. He looked sad.

Harry tapped Ron’s arm, “I didn’t know Malfoy was coming back” He gestured to the other end towards Draco and Ron followed his gaze.

“Me neither mate. Must be weirder for him to be back than it is for us. I heard Dad say that they arrested Mr. Malfoy but Draco and his mum got off. Said they were forced into it. Also heard that they sold Malfoy Manor and moved into a small apartment in the city.”

Harry watched Draco for a long time. He wanted to know what he was thinking. He wanted to talk to him about everything that happened, from the astronomy tower to the room of requirement and everything that happened since them.

“Good Evening students and welcome back to Hogwarts” Minerva McGonagall’s voice soared over the head of hundreds of chattering students and brought a complete silence to the room. “It has been a long two years and I’m sure many of you are excited to be back to our wonderful school. I would like to start with a few announcements before we get into the sorting of our new first and second years. As always, please refrain from wandering into the forest on the edge of the grounds...”

McGonagall finished her announcements and called in the new students for the sorting. As usual the Sorting Hat began the sorting with a song.

For many years, this valiant school

Taught students ways of magic

But darkness came and broke our home

An evening very tragic.

Now two years past and we return

To start anew in friendship

As our founders long since past

Intend for their kinship.

No matter house or blood or kind

We work here close together

To make the world of magic great

And a future for the better.

In Gryffindor the brave reside

The true of heart and courage

In friendship they will always try

To care for and encourage.

In Hufflepuff you find true friends

Their loyalty is known

With a Hufflepuff by one’s side

Their value will be shown

In Ravenclaw their minds are strong

Their wit is quite unmatched

Take your time to know them well

A true connection will be hatched

And finally, in Slytherin

Ambition takes control

These cunning snakes make truest friends

With them one will feel whole

Now place me up upon your head

And be sorted to your house

Just remember only together can

Real magic come about

Applause filled the room and the Sorting hat took a small bow before McGonagall began calling names. One by one, each student sat on the bench and had the hat placed upon their heads. For some, a house came almost instantly, for others, Harry could tell, they were having a long chat with the Sorting Hat just the way he had nine years previous.

After the sorting concluded and the chatter from the tables settled, McGonagall stepped back up to the podium. “Before we feast, I would like to take a moment to recognize all those we lost two years ago. These candles will remain in the hall as a memorial to their memories and everything they meant to us.”

The room was quite for a long time. Everyone sat very still only moving their heads to read the names on the candles.

After a moment, McGonagall gave a clap that rang through the hall and a huge feast appeared in front of the excited students.

~~~

Once the food was gone, the other students began to make their way out of the hall and to their respective common rooms. The eighth-years remained seated, quietly talking amongst themselves while the Great Hall emptied, and the house elves cleared the tables (Hermione tried to help. Ron had to remind her that it was their job and that they were being paid for their work). Shortly after the last plate was removed, McGonagall moved over to the table to lead them to their dorm.

The new dorm was placed up on the 7th floor, as Harry had suspected. The door was a small dark wood with a rounded top, very unassuming and easily passed over if you didn’t know it was there. It almost looked like a broom closet. Stepping though however, it opened into a large sitting room. A huge fire place roared from one corner of the room surrounded by some of the coziest chairs and couches Harry had ever seen. A split stairwell towards the far wall expanded up to what harry could only guess were the dorms.

“As usual, the boys and girls dorms are separated, however, seeing as there are so few of you, everyone will be provided their own bedroom connected to a shared living space and bathroom for the boys and girls respectively” McGonagall finished explaining the layout and then, saying her good-nights, retired to her room leaving them to explore on their own.

“This place is incredible” Seamus was almost bouncing off the walls. “Dean! Room neighbors?”

“Absolutely” The two of them raced up the stairs towards the dorm rooms. Slowly, everyone else followed them up to the rooms, picking their place and settling in. Harry left his things on the floor of his room and made his way back down stairs.

The common room was mostly empty, save for Hermione, already studying for classes at a table by the windows and Hannah Abbot, who had fallen asleep with a book in her lap. Harry sat down on the couch across from the fire and let his mind wander with his eyes focused on the flames. He simply sat there for quite some time. Hermione had woken Hannah and the two of them went off to bed close to an hour ago. The grandfather clock on the far wall chimed two bells before Harry looked up from the fireplace. Only then did he notice Draco sitting in a chair to his right.

Harry almost jumped out of his seat. “Malfoy? Wh-hat are you doing here? It’s almost morning.”

Draco smirked. “I was wondering how long you would be spacing out like that, Potter” but then his smile disappeared, and he turned his attention from Harry to the flames. “I don’t sleep a whole lot much anymore. Haven’t for quite some time now.”

Harry watched him for a moment. He looked like he was shaking, and he was constantly wringing his hands. “Me neither, actually. Not since, you know.” The two of them sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, neither looking up from the fire licking the edges of the brick alcove. “I don’t hate you, Draco. I just want you to know that. And I don’t blame you for anything. It’s not your fault.” Draco looked up then, a new look in his eyes. Something hopeful maybe. He didn’t say anything, just nodded slightly.

After a few more minutes, Draco got up and quietly made his way back to the dorms, leaving Harry alone in the empty common room, the sun slowly beginning to peak through the large stained-glass windows, lighting up the room with a brilliance of colors marking the new day and the start of Harry’s eighth and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

END OF INTRODUCTION

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paladin-andric · 6 years ago

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Blackheart, Chapter 31: A Final Respite

It had been quite some time. Deep in the heart of the Citadel, things had changed considerably.

A while ago, the survivors had evacuated to the countryside. Before they did so, Basilrin was sent to bring word of the situation to the surrounding lands, in hopes of summoning the forces needed to push to the Blackheart.

The portal was said to be in the very center of the city. To get there, all they needed to do was take the main road. Only problem was the demons. Their corrupted thralls swarmed the main streets en-masse. It was why they had spent their time creeping down alleyways and side streets.

Soon...soon, the time for skulking would come to an end. Soon, the army would begin their assault.

Alexander ran the blade of his sword over a whetstone, looking it over carefully. He had forgone wearing his armor, seeing as it had been a few days since Basilrin’s return.

It was quite the wonder, seeing not only his return, but the arrival of the Lady Protector herself, Gira. The Black Dragon, as she was called, arguably the most important figure in all of Geralthin. She had been there for the entirety of its history, after all.

She and Basilrin had assured them that the army was indeed on its way. Already a few of those towns and villages nearby had arrived, a few guards and citizens armed with the bare essentials now joining them in the Citadel.

It was a good start, but they had to await the mass of royal forces before they could dare start their push.

Gira was another one. Now they had three dragons. That was three beasts of legend to rain destruction on their foes. Alexander could only imagine how marvelous that kind of support would be for the army.

All in all, things were looking quite hopeful. With a force like this assembled, pushing through the city really seemed more than a mere pipe dream.

All they had to do was cause a gap, if only for a moment, in the demons’ defenses. Then Alexander could slip through, enter the Blackheart, and destroy whatever artifact was anchoring the portal to their world.

“Hey.”

The knight turned to see Wurie walking up to him. The wolfman took a seat on the ground beside the knight, flashing him a nervous smile.

“Hey captain. What’s the matter?”

Wurie looked off into the distance as Alexander continued sharpening his blade. “I just...can hardly believe it, you know? That we’re so close.”

“It won’t be long now,” the knight answered.

“It’s been quite the journey.”

Alexander smiled. “Yeah. I think we’ve all learned things from this.”

“Really? I feel like you’ve been the one teaching ME here, sir knight!”

The man shook his head and sighed. “You should know better than that, Wurie.”

The wolfman frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Captain, when I first came here...I must admit that I didn’t feel the same way about you and the others then I do now.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well...I was raised surrounded by other humans. Not once had I even laid eyes upon another species, aside from Stilich, the doctor.”

“Stilich?”

“One of the shellbacks,” Alexander admitted, “Father hired him to take care of us...but that was the extent of my knowledge. He was one of a kind as far as I was concerned. When I joined the army, I was deployed at the northern border. There, was my first experience with the wolves...with your people, Wurie.”

The captain grimaced. “Not, uh...not a good impression,” he whispered, his voice reflecting pain.

“That’s an understatement. I thought your people were animals, barbarians, monsters...I had a similar view for many of the peoples of Geralthin. In truth, the edict didn’t rattle me as much as it probably should have...it meeting Sigvin to change my mind about a “universal evil”. Even then I thought he was the exception, but now...I see I was quite mistaken.”

“Sigvin?” Wurie’s brows furrowed. “Alexander, you said...Sigvin?”

“Yeah. We commissioned him as pathfinder, during one of our expeditions into tribal territory. We chatted at the camp. Told me all sorts of stories about him and his people. Really helped me understand the wolfmen more than I did.”

Wurie’s eyes were a near sliver now.

“What? What’s with that funny look?”

“Alexander...was...was Sigvin a bard?”

The knight was caught off guard by that one. “He...mentioned he wanted to become one...how on earth did you know that? Wurie, have you met him?”

The captain gave Alexander a serious look. “...follow me.”

He paused only to put his whetstone away and sheathe his sword before he hurried after Wurie. The implications behind this left only one possibility…

Turning past another group of tents, Wurie called out to a figure facing a firepit. “Sigvin!”

The person turned around, sitting on a small wooden stump. In a rather puffy, fanciful striped and dyed suit, was a familiar face. Sure, the clothes, quilled hat, and lute was a far cry to the rags he was wearing all those years ago, but Alexander recognized him all the same.

“Sigvin...you’ve got a friend here.”

The unarmored knight stepped forward, eyes widening. It wasn’t just a shared name. It was him. It was really him.

“Sigvin…?”

The wolfman bard frowned. “Err, I’m sorry. You might be…?”

“It’s me, remember?! It’s Alexander! From the war up north? The Pureclaws!”

The bard’s face scrunched up as he tried to recall those memories. In a moment, his eyes shot open. “A-Alexander?!”

“Yeah! It’s me!”

The wolfman jumped up excitedly and put his lute down. “Hoo boy...Alexander! How have you been, friend?!”

The knight laughed as Sigvin grabbed and shook his hand wildly. “Ah, you know! Pretty busy. How the hell did you end up all the way down here?!”

“I TOLD you I was gonna move to Geralthin! I even went to college! All was going according to plan when, uh...this all happened.”

“Right...you were kicked off with the rest of the exiled.”

“Mmhm. I must say, I saw you here before, but I never imagined the man under the armor would be you!”

Alexander shrugged. “Well, here I am regardless! God I can’t believe we’ve been so close all this time!”

“I’ve been...unable to be of much help,” Sigvin admitted with a sheepish smile. “I, uh...I’ve been hiding back here. Thinking, mostly.”

“Well, why didn’t you leave with the other citizens?”

“Because he wants to help!” Wurie said with a grin, “Isn’t that right, Sigvin?”

“Yessir!”

The knight tapped his foot, looking worried. “Ah, but...what are you planning on doing, than? Not joining the front line, I’d hope!”

“Oh goodness no. I’ve never been a warrior, you know that! I AM a bard, though. My music does more than you might expect. I hope to rally and inspire the real warriors when we attack!”

“You really have become what you’ve always wanted, huh?”

“That’s right!” Sigvin said with a grin, “My dreams are...well, they WERE coming true...but hopefully! Hopefully, after all this, I can finally get back on track!”

Wurie nodded. “You will. We’ll see to that, won’t we, Alexander!”

“Yes...we will. I must say Wurie, it’s good to see you looking up like this. You, uh...weren’t in high spirits, the last few times we spoke.”

“What can you do?” the captain asked with a shrug. “I’ve been seeing and hearing some awful things. It takes its toll, but...it’s almost over. We’re so close. If there’s a time to believe, it’s right now.”

Alexander smiled. Despite everything, even the most mournful seemed full of hope now.

“Hope is a powerful thing to have. We’ll see this through Wurie, I swear.”

The trio sat around the firepit, Alexander looking back at Sigvin. “So...got any songs planned for all of this?”

The bard smiled. “Ah, well I’ve got a few popular tunes, but generally I let the music take me where it goes.” His smile quickly turned into a frown. “I do have...one song in the works though. An...ode to your friend, Alexander. The red dragon. Hopefully, my song will travel across the land once this is over, and all will sing of his sacrifice. I figured such an individual deserves nothing less.”

Alexander’s face scrunched up. “Ah. I see...I’m sure he’d be proud.”

Sigvin nodded sadly. “Yeah. I think he would.”

…

“Hey…”

The holy man didn’t look up as he continued reflecting over the words of the scripture. “Yes?”

“I, uh...I’m going to go with them, you know!”

Andric frowned. The paladin opened his eyes and turned his gaze to Senci, visage firm.

“I would strongly advise against that.”

The kobold looked hurt by that. “Oh, come on, master! They’re counting on me to help them!”

“And I’m counting on you to make it through this in one piece.”

“I’ll make it through just fine! I can do it, you know I can! I was trained by the best, after all.”

“Senci…”

“I’ve make it this far, haven’t I?!”

Andric turned around, shifting from kneeling into a sitting position. The pair were inside a tent, taking stock of their inventory and preparing for the final battle.

“I just don’t want anything to happen. I heard about your little stint in the medical tent, you know.”

“But master-”

“What if that happens again?”

“Master Andric…”

“You nearly died, Senci! I cannot abide by this! If I were to let you leave my sight, you could-”

Something snapped inside of Senci, if only for a moment. For the first time since he could remember, he snapped at his mentor.

“I’m not a damned child anymore!”

Andric’s brows raised at the kobold’s shrill yell. He couldn’t remember the man ever being stricken silent like this, but these were exceptional circumstances.

The young warrior felt immense shame and regret almost immediately. He could feel the heat well up in his face and fear creep over him as he looked at his stunned father figure.

“I...I’m sorry…”

The paladin grimaced as he looked the other warrior over. The small lizard shifted uncomfortably, head lowered and eyes full of guilt. Like he was about to be lectured.

Andric sighed. “It’s...fine. I understand. I know this is important to you. I just...I came all this way to make sure you were alright, you know? If something happened, I…”

The man’s lips pursed. “...I don’t know what I’d do. Over a decade, Senci. For twelve years, I’ve been making sure you were okay. For twelve years, schooling and training you...”

“I...I know,” Senci said quietly, “B-but, master...you...you have to let me try! I’m a grown up now!”

Andric shot the kobold a guilty grin and scratched his beard. “Well, actually, you’re still a year away from being an adult at the moment…”

“T-that’s close enough!” Senci insisted. “Listen...I...I’m thankful for everything, really, I am. I’m so lucky I have you to train me...but eventually, you have to put that training to the test! Master...you must let me loose on our enemies! You’ve prepared me for this moment, and I must follow through now! I can’t be useless in this battle, I can’t let everyone down! I HAVE to help!”

Andric frowned and closed his eyes, reflecting on the kobold’s words. Eventually, he opened his eyes and moved forward, wrapping his arms around the young warrior.

“Senci...I know. I know I can’t stop you from doing this...and I understand how much this means to you. You can go.”

Smiling with wide eyes, Senci returned the hug, Andric patting him on the shoulder.

“I won’t let you down. I promise.”

“The only way you could do that, Senci, is if you didn’t come back...so make sure you do, alright?”

Senci grinned wide. “Yes sir!”

…

Razorwing pulled back on his bow, getting a feel for the tension. He sat on the ground beside the tent he had been staying in, his supplies laid out around him.

After this brief test of his bowstring, it seemed like all was in order. He had brought a few extra with him just in case it snapped, but there didn’t seem to be many issues. He’d been using this one for about a year, but he was very fussy about maintenance, so everything still worked as intended.

“Is that the great hero Razorwing, playing around with an unloaded bow?”

The bird turned his head towards the source. Of course, there was no mistaking that voice, despite the additional cheer it seemed to be carrying today.

“You work with crossbows. You know full well the need to test and maintain.”

The human sat down beside him. Despite the mask, his eyes made his amusement clear.

“Obviously. I’m messing with you, dope.”

The koutu shot him a cocky grin. “You sure? You know, if you don’t know about weapon upkeep, I could teach you.”

“Yeah yeah, alright, ya dumb bird.” A light punch to the shoulder made the hero chuckle.

Paul took out one of his own crossbows and looked it over. It was a fair bit smaller than the ones the armies used, seeing as this was made with the ability to hold and fire with one hand. Still, it had enough force behind it, and the bolts were large enough to still be deadly. The downside was that without the heft of the larger models, punching through armor proved...problematic.

Not that this was generally a problem for Paul. As a bounty hunter, he generally worked to end combat before it began. He’d become a good enough shot and a quiet enough sneak to hit targets in their weak spots, while they were unexpecting.

“Hard to believe it’s almost over huh?” the human mused.

“Yes...quite remarkable. We’ve come quite a far way, we have.” Razorwing put his bow down and grabbed his quiver, beginning to examine his arrows.

“It’s been rough. The close scrapes, the demons...listening to you blabber on about nonsense,” Paul said with a laugh.

“Oh? You got pretty mad when I stopped ‘blabbering’ though, didn’t you?”

The bounty hunter looked away as the koutu grinned like mad. “Well...you know how it is...the silence in this hellhole is maddening. Any voice is a relief...no matter how dumb what they’re saying is.”

The archer raised a brow. “Oh ho! I see! So what you’re saying is I’m just a voice to you, huh? Just a distraction? Just something any other person could have been?”

“T-that’s not what I meant!”

The hero put a winged arm around the human’s shoulders. Shooting him a grin, he leaned in. “Don’t worry! I’m just...what was it you said? ‘Messing with you, dope’?”

Paul groaned, which drew another laugh from Razorwing.

“Seriously, though. You and I, friend...we’ll go far, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean by that?” with the birdman’s wing still wrapped around him, he looked over questioningly.

“You remember how well we worked in the streets. How long we spent without the luxury of a team, or any support. Just the two of us, against the demons. The scouting we did for each other...we make a perfect duo, don’t you think?”

Paul looked away, sighing. “We, uh...you’re right, but...I don’t know.”

“Aw, come on, pal! No one can beat a team like us!”

“I know,” Paul admitted, “We make an excellent team. Still...I don’t know if I’ll...be doing this in the future.”

Razorwing frowned. “Huh? What’s...what’s that mean?”

“Look. You’re a famous hero. You fight monsters, and lead parades, and have songs sung of you...and I’m a shadow. No one besides you knows my identity. I stalk the shadows. I slit the throats of thieves and killers. I hide from the fame that comes with the work I do. I’ve built a reputation as an ender of lives...despite no one knowing who I am.”

The hero gave him a funny look. “You’re saying we’re incompatible?”

“Well, that’s one part of it-”

He was cut short by Razorwing squeezing him, tightening his arm’s grip around the man.

“Come on, Crux! We’ve been through enough to know that’s nonsense!”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Argh. You wanna let me breathe, bird?”

“Very well.” Razorwing let go of him, the pair sitting beside one another once more.

“Hah. Well, besides that...I have an identity to keep concealed. We were able to do that AND work together because, well...we’re in a fog-covered city cut off from the outside world. If we started working together once this is over...I fear your renown, and the attention you draw would...make my secret impossible to keep.”

It seemed to finally dawn on the hero, now. His gaze softened, turning into a saddened, wincing visage.

“Ah. I...I see. You...we can’t...be friends anymore.”

There was a lengthy, uncomfortable pause. Both of them had their heads down, unable to look the other in the eye.

Paul’s voice caught Razorwing off guard.

“You know...you’re the only friend I’ve ever had.”

The archer blinked, eye widening. “Paul…?”

“I, uh...I made an effort to keep my distance from everyone...just so something like this wouldn’t happen.”

The human looked over at Razorwing. The koutu’s head hung low, looking defeated.

“I...there must be something we can do…”

Paul crossed his arms, his weapons checking long forgotten. “Is there...some place you go to all the time? I don’t know if I could leave a paper trail to keep in touch, but if we happened to be around the same places…”

Razorwing smirked. “I’m all over the place. The parades and plays and, well, you know.”

“Of course.”

“Well, my estate’s always open to you. Hey, maybe you could come over sometime and meet Eignach!” “Eignach…?”

The koutu looked surprised. “Oh, I didn’t tell you? We’re...together.” There was a short pause before Razorwing continued hurriedly. “Err, that’s uh, why I wanted to tell you, by the way, that I’m spoken for. I didn’t mean to...hit on you. I-I don’t drink, so, uhh...I wasn’t thinking clearly. My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it...lightweight.” Paul was grinning. The way the fabric around his mouth was stretching gave it away.

“Well EXCUSE me for practicing a bit of clean living!” the hero laughed and shook his head. “Well, at any rate, we’ve been together for...not too long. We were just friends at first. Poor fellow was expelled from the kingdom during the exile. He grew up in Geralthin. He may be one of my people in body, but culturally, he was a human. Our homeland was alien and frightening to him. I took him in, seeing as he lost his home and...the rest is history.”

“A bird frightened of his own flock…” Paul pulled out his dagger and inspected it for any nicks and scratches.

“I suppose! He’s adapted well, though. You know he was a fan of mine? He was absolutely starstruck when we met. Even fainted and everything!”

“Everyone has a hero to look up to, I guess. You happened to be his.”

“That’s right.”

Razorwing turned to look at the human, still running his hand along his dagger.

“Hey, Paul?”

“Yeah?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation. “Whatever happens out there...we’re a team, alright? I’ve got your back.”

Paul lowered his dagger, turning to look at the archer. His eyes ran over the other man, taking him in.

“And I’ve got yours.” He held a gloved hand out to the koutu, who took it without hesitation. The pair shook.

“Domnall...it’s been a pleasure. Let’s cast these beasts back to the deepest pits of hell.”

Razorwing radiated confidence as he sat up straight. “Hah! The armies of hell themselves will learn to fear our names!”

Paul nodded, a smirk etched in his mask. “That’s what I like to hear. Let’s you and I give em’ something to call hell...bird.”

…

“Looks like everything’s ready.”

“Just about.”

The man and woman were sitting inside a small tent, just the two of them and their supplies. The man was sitting idle, while the woman was chewing on a piece of jerky. He looked at her with a near unreadable expression.

“Hungry?” she asked in between bites. He shook his head.

“Not a fan of jerky?”

He shook his head again. “I don’t care what I eat, Leianna. I’m just not hungry right now.”

The cleric shrugged, still chewing. “Suit yourself.” Taking another bite, she looked off to the side in thought. “Man, all they’ve got left around here is cheese and jerky.”

“Not much else can last months without spoiling,” Lexius noted.

“Hey, I’m not complaining. Food’s food, and cheese and jerky are damn fine.”

Lexius sighed. The priest looked sullen and out of it. Leianna noticed this, and gave him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just...I wish I could have...been of more use.”

“How so?”

The man held his hands out. “I...I was poor support on the field. I’m an awful combatant. I spent half my time here bedridden. I failed to come prepared. I...I even...Leianna, if I had been with you when we split into two groups...perhaps Basilrin’s brother and Tourthun would be-”

“Hey. Monk boy.” Leianna gave him a firm glare, as if chastising him. “Listen to me, you fool. You came here of your own volition. You waltzed into a hellhole full of the darkest beings the world can offer with scrappy armor, a chipped iron blade and a tiny wooden shield. You never trained for combat. You healed a goddamned DRAGON, Lexius.”

He was about to respond, but Leianna put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “You kicked ass out here. No one expected some guy from a church to make it this far, but here you are.”

The priest lowered his head and laughed. Leianna raised a brow. “Err...Lexius?”

“Heh...yeah, I guess you’re right. No use in feeling sorry for myself. I did what I could. That’s...all you can really do.”

“Hey, that’s the spirit!” Leianna grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Look, I’ve got plenty of things I wish I’d done differently too, but there’s no turning back the clock. You live with what you do, and you do the best you can.”

Lexius looked up at the cleric hopefully. “Sister Leianna...could you join me in prayer?”

The woman shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” She shoved the rest of the jerky in her mouth, chewing loudly as she rushed to finish her meal.

Lexius took out his cross, from under his armor. The small, wooden symbol appeared hand-carved by him, if its quality was any indication.

Leianna wiped her mouth and took out her own, pulling it from a pouch. The handheld crosses were more good luck charms than anything, not blessed or magical in any way. It was a simple reminder of God, carried on each church member’s person to serve as a constant source of hope and faith.

Lexius bowed his head, cross clutched underneath his hand and held onto by both hands. Leianna followed the gesture.

“Through God and the intercession of Saint Martin, we stand firm against the work of the enemy,” Lexius said, his voice low and clear.

“We thought we may have died and been sent to the underworld for our transgressions, for we are surrounded by grinning faces of demons,” Leianna continued. The pair continued to alternate between each line.

“Even in death, even in the underworld, despite our true odds, we will never waver. Such is the burden of the faithful.”

Lexius’ eyes were squeezed tight as he brought the prayer to a close. “Guide us now, for we do the bidding of the Lord, our God. Allow us to fulfill our duty, no matter the cost. No matter the cost…”

“Amen.”

Despite having reached the end, Lexius did not rise as Leianna had.

“No matter the cost…”

The cleric looked at the priest with a notable degree of concern. “Lexius…?”

“No matter the cost…”

…

“This catastrophe was man-made! I’ve seen it for myself!” Charles stood among a group of humans, the first few militiamen who had answered the call. Several of them, in their light uniforms of cloth and wielding simple weapons, leered at him in disdain.

Though Alexander and the others had been through enough with the magician to trust him, but as he had always been told, the common folk saw him as little more than a monstrous chimera.

“What the hell do you know?!” one of the levies shouted, eliciting cries of agreement throughout the crowd.

“I recovered documents from the college! One of the wizards said himself that he did it!”

“Oh yeah?! Where’s your proof?”

Charles frowned. “I gave them to my friend, the professor. He left with the rest of the citizens in the evacuation.”

“How awfully convenient,” one of the men mused. A few voice called out in agreement once more.

“Whatever!” the dragonoid cried, throwing his hands up, “I don’t care if you believe me or not! The truth will come out on its own!”

“Yeah right. I bet YOU did it!”

“M-me?!” Charles reeled back, “Why would I do that?!”

“It’s in your blood!” Cheers erupted through the crowd at those words, the magician clutching at his shoulders defensively.

“T-that’s not true. I make my own path...my origins do not determine my future…”

“Yeah, right! Say, if you’re one of them...I wonder if you’ve got any secrets you’re hiding…?”

A few men stepped forward, their stances clearly hostile. Their eyes glinted with malicious intent, and their grin were anything but friendly.

“W-what’s this?!” Charles shouted, shaken. He backed up, nervous about where this was going.

“Why are you wearing that?” one of the men asked, reaching out for his wizard hat. Though he grabbed it, Charles threw his arm away, clutching onto the hat possessively.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch my things! They aren’t yours!”

The man smirked. “Are you hiding something under there, beast?”

Their approach quickened, even as the dragonoid began backpedaling.

“L-leave me alone! Stop it!”

“Show us what you’re hiding!” Several shouts rang out through the Citadel. Some from the mob of soldiers, some from citizens around the camp that saw what was happening.

Charles, focused on the approaching men, failed to notice a rock behind him. His foot slipped as he tripped over it, falling to the ground on his back. He sat up, and just as it looked like the mob was about to descend on him…

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Blinking, the fallen dragonoid looked over to the source of the bellowing voice. Sure enough, the knight was stomping over, though not in his armor. Still, he had his sword on his hip, and looked suitably authoritative enough anyway. Behind him, a few others followed, most notably Wurie.

“Causing trouble, are we?”

The knight’s demeanor seemed to shake the mob of levies out of it, many quickly backing away from Charles.

��W-we were just-”

“Harassing the people you were sent to help? Yeah, I noticed. What’s next? Gonna mug a few of the wolves? Attack the birds?”

“No,” a single voice answered meekly. The knight scowled at the group.

“Which one of you imbeciles is in command here?” He demanded. A lone soldier answered.

“Captain Howard, sir. He’s outside.”

Alexander stepped forward and grabbed the man by the neck, pulling him close. The others gasped, but didn’t interfere.

“Tell your captain to get his men under control,” he growled, voice dripping with venomous hostility, “NOW.”

“Y-yessir,” he squeaked, stumbling backwards as Alexander released him.

“Crawl on out of here, all of you. You’re not welcome.”

As the group turned to leave back through the sewers, the knight called out one last time.

“If I catch you attacking any more citizens, you’ll be hanging from his majesty’s gallows for treason!”

As the group fled, Alexander turned to Charles, still sitting on the ground. He quickly extended a hand. “You all right?”

“I-I think so.” the magician grabbed the man’s hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet with a grunt.

“Ah...thank you, Alexander.”

“Don’t worry about it. The nerve…!”

Charles smiled as he dusted himself off. “I’m thankful to have friends in such affluent stations…”

The knight grimaced. “I don’t like throwing my weight around, but in these situations I hardly have a choice.”

“What in the world was that?” Wurie asked, “They were like...common rabble! Like the thugs whose fights I had to break up back in the day!”

“That’s what happens with the army,” Alexander noted. He frowned as he looked over to the exit, hands on his hips.

“These aren’t elite soldiers of the king. These aren’t contractors or professionals. These are levies, militia and common folk. They don’t have the discipline a lifer has. Force them to stay on duty without an enemy to fight, and eventually they’ll starting picking their own fights.”

Wurie tilted his head. “Sounds like you’ve dealt with this before.”

“Comes with the territory. Command enough armies and you know the best and worst of it inside and out.”

“Still...unacceptable,” muttered Wurie. He looked deeply wounded by the proceedings.

“Captain? You okay?”

The wolfman shook his head. “It’s...nothing. Just remembering the exile.”

“Similar treatment?”

“Very.”

Alexander crossed his arms. “Things are going to change around here. I don’t know how, but they will.”

Wurie smiled despite himself. “I...appreciate the optimism. I would say I don’t believe it but...I already said that about you saving our people. I fear I’d be eating my words yet again if I said such a thing!”

The knight shrugged, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Guess we’ll just have to see, huh? So how about…”

A shadow taking up the entire middle of the camp cause him to trail off. While the twilight wasn’t much, it was noticeable now that it was gone.

He barely had a moment to look up before a green dragon dropped down the hole and into the Citadel. Basilrin.

“They are here! The king’s men are here!”

There was a lengthy silence as the crowd looked at one another. A few citizens walked over at the dragon’s call, including the others that had been journeying together with Alexander all this time.

Looking back, the knight gave them a nod. At last, the end was here. Alexander closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“It’s time.”

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grownups-are-the-real-monsters · 6 years ago

Text

Heartache Tonight - The Kids Are Alright

Summary: “Somebody's gonna hurt someone before the night is through...”

Another one shot in the ‘Kids Are Alright’ Series

Words: 2,144

{Derry, Maine. June 28th, 1976. 12:47 P.M. Beverly’s room}

“Just squint your eyes and focus between your fingers…”

Beverly did as she was instructed, she focused on the white wall of space between her fingers on her outstretched hand. The world became fuzzy and blurred but outlining her hand was a thin line of color. She blinked, eyes back to normal as she hunched her shoulders to laugh. Her red ponytail falling loosely onto her shoulder. “Purple. My aura is purple.” She grinned.

Stan grinned at her from his seat on her bean bag chair. Richie held out his own hand and shrugged. “Mine’s still red.” He frowned with a look of suspicion. However Beverly grinned, reaching out to shake his thigh.

“What does purple mean?” She asked, eager to hear the answer. Richie shrugged, pushing up his glasses.

“Dunno.” He smiled and Beverly scoffed.

“You mean to tell me that I did that for nothing?” She rolled her eyes and Stan crossed his legs to bring them up on the bean bag chair. The blob of green melded to his body shape and allowed perfect comfort. He wiggled a little in the new spot and tilted his head.

There was an unspoken sort of tension in the room they were all separately aware of. Beverly frowned deeply and played with a loose thread on her jeans. “You wanna know about the date I had the other day, huh?” her voice, accusatory, carried loudly throughout the room. “I assume Richie blabbed to you, Stan?”

The man in question shrunk back and picked at the rubber of his shoes. “Oh I dunno. I knew something was up without him having to tell me, I’m intuitive like that, y’know? I like to think I’m psychic too-”

“Shut-up, Stanley.” Beverly laughed lightly to let him know not to take offense. But she had to stop his rambling before it went on forever like they all knew it would. “I wanna let you know right off the bat that it sucked. I sucked. And I would not like to discuss it further, ok? I’m gonna go make some popcorn and we’re gonna move on from there.”

Beverly, uncharacteristically, shut them down completely and rushed out of her own room. When the door lightly tapped the doorway behind her, Richie and Stan shared the same guilty look. They let themselves sit in silence until they could her the girl moving around downstairs. Instead of breaking it with words, Richie came over and sat near Stan’s feet and tapped lightly on his leg like a child.

“Hmm?” Stan raised his brow though he knew this little routine. He gave the guy a kind smile and shrugged. “I’m sure she isn’t all that mad about you telling me, Rich. Don’t let that bother you.”

He advised his friend knowing full well Richie could not handle his friends being mad at him very well. Terribly, actually. He sure did hope this wouldn’t be one of the worst. He scooted off the bean bag and sat in front of his best friend with a smile. “Want me to read your palm?”

“Yes please!” Richie happily held out his hand with a giddy look on his face.

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

“Is everyone having s-s-sex but me?” Bill asked abruptly, cutting the silence that had been going on for the past twenty minutes. He laid in the back of the Vista Cruiser that was parked in front of his house while Eddie shuffled through the radio for a good station.

The question sent Eddie into fits of laughter for what seemed like five whole minutes. Bill rolled his eyes and sat up to face the back of his head. “Why are you laughing?”

Eddie wiped at his eyes and turned back to face him, elbow resting on the next seat. “Partly because of how dumb that question is and partly because it’s funnier when you stutter it.”

Bill lightly chuckled and punched the kid in the arm, who recoiled and rubbed the hurt area. “I’m serious, Eddie.”

The other boy sighed and decided to take his best friend seriously. “First of all, really think about that question, huh?”

Bill looked at him blankly in thought before shrugging, deciding it to be a valid question for some reason.

“Sure, Stan’s got a girlfriend but there’s no way that’s happened for them yet.” Eddie began his long answer that he hadn’t been prepared to have to explain. “Mike and Beverly barely talk to anyone besides us and last I checked neither of them have had sex with any of us.” He paused at his own little joke and chuckled. Bill did not seem even lightly amused with that comment.

"And do you remember who Ben and I are? We haven’t gotten anywhere with anyone which sucks but we’re pretty awkward Bill.” He laughed.

“What about Richie?” Bill asked. Eddie frowned.

“What about him?” He sneered and Bill put a pin in that to make sure to bring it up the attitude he’d answered with again. “He’s not had sex yet or he’d be bragging up and down the street. Don’t you know him?”

Bill realized how silly he’d been to ask but he was still annoyed.

“S’not that big of a deal anyway.” Eddie spoke as he turned back and pulled his aspirator from the glove-box for safe keeping. “Sex is just sex. It’ll happen when it happens.” He put the car in drive and moved to pull out of the driveway.

“Spoken like a true v-v-virgin, Eddie.” Bill joked and Eddie even had to laugh at that. Truthfully, none of them cared all that much about ‘doing it’ except maybe Richie. But even that was just some jokes here and there. But insecurity had risen in Bill ever since Disco night when Beverly rejected him. He had briefly wondered if he’d ruined their friendship. He’d also wondered if he just...’didn’t have any game’ in him.

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

{Mike, Bill, Stan, Eddie & Richie sat in Stan’s basement. The room is lacking smoke.}

“I hate to be a party pooper, though it is what I’m best at, but the smoke really is bad for my asthma.” Eddie paced behind the couch in Stan’s basement with a slight grin on his face.

“Hey, I could fight you on that, I think I’m a champion at that too.” Stan cocked his head, resting it on the back of his couch as Eddie stood above him. He wagged his finger like a much older gentleman and Eddie giggled.

“I’d be careful if I were you. Eddie’s real scrappy. Once, we were play f-f-f-fighting over the remote and he nearly kicked me in the eye.” Bill laughed and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Please. Don’t exaggerate.”

Richie perked up and smirked. “Eddie, one time you punched me so hard I fell on the floor and had a bruise for like....ever.” Richie did not look too mad about it. He actually found it rather funny and possibly adorable.

“It’s not like it came from nowhere. You were sitting on me.”

Richie blushed slightly at the memory. Boy, had he regretted that move many times when they play-fought. But he always went for it without even thinking about it. He was actually glad Eddie had knocked him off that day.

Mike hummed and looked through Stan’s record collection for some background tunes. “Violence does seem to be the way with you guys.” He pretended to scold them, although he truly didn’t quite enjoy violence himself.

Stan allowed Eddie to playfully flick at his forehead and grinned. They were all silent for a few minutes before Mike finally decided on a record. More specifically, ‘Led Zeppelin IV’.

Everyone rolled their shoulders back with the same pleasure as the first song kicked in. A natural reaction, of course.

They were quiet again, absorbing that special sound.

“You know what would make this better?” Richie asked.

“Hmmm?” Mike replied.

“Weed.”

Mike slapped his shoulder while Eddie playfully gave him the finger. Richie smirked at him. Things had been awkward for them ever since Disco night. Neither of them willing to bring up what happened ever since. Suddenly Richie found himself wishing Ben were there because at least he’d understand his sudden mood drop.

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

{Derry, Maine. 4:50 P.M.}

Beverly sat on the curb in front of the local pharmacy, smoking a cigarette and hoping her dull headache would not get any worse. The day was dragging on and she felt a little guilty for blowing Stan and Richie off earlier but she also wished she’d done it sooner.

“Loitering is a crime, young lady.” A distant voice made her jump but as she turned her head, it was just Ben putting on her on as he nervously approached.

“Sorry I thought that’d be funny but ummm- I don’t know why I did that, sorry.” Ben tried to mumble through an apology and she had to reluctantly smile at that.

“It was funny, Ben.” She rolled her lips together and gestured for him to sit next to her. “Listen, I’m glad you’re here actually.”

The comment itself made Ben want to smile but her tone and expression made him want to crumble right there in front of the store. She bent one of her knees and sat in a way to face him entirely. The golden sun dusted upon her freckled shoulders and warmed her hair. He could tell she was about to speak but he beat her to it.

“You know about my feelings, huh?” He guessed because he was just too curious and worried to wait. The girl blinked, lashes kissing her face, and licked her lips in thought.

“I know.” She nodded and Ben felt like he could throw-up in the sewer grate just to their side. They looked at each other for a few painful seconds.

“So if I was to ask you-...” Ben couldn’t even finish. I’d be pitiful if he even tried so he let it hang in the air. By the way Beverly put her hand to her lips and turned to look away, he knew it was bad. “Yeah...that’s-that’s fine.” Ben scratched the back of his head and tried to shrug it off.

“Look Ben, I’m not saying no forever.” She turned back with renewed energy that he wondered how she’d managed to pull. “But for now...”

“It’d be a no?” Ben asked. She nodded and he found himself wondering if it had anything to do with Bill. He would have asked but he was not that insensitive. It wasn’t any of his business.

“Please... don’t hate me.” Beverly reached out to pat his knee with genuine fear before pulling away like she was burned.

“Hate you?” Ben found the room to laugh. Beverly raised a frightened brow. “Never, Bev. Never in my life could I hate you. You’re one of my best friends.” He nodded and she felt fine again. Happy, even.

They surrendered the conversation and picked up a new one. Though, both felt a little restrained. How long would that last...?

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

{Stan’s Basement. 5:00 P.M.}

Mike, Bill, Richie, Eddie and Stan had gotten side-tracked by a Gilligan’s Island marathon on TV like almost every-time they hung out. As another plan to get off the island failed, Richie took a small chance and put his arm around Eddie but rested it on the back of the couch casually.

Mike and Bill didn’t notice but Stan put all his attention on the two of them as if they were just as entertaining. He could tell Eddie had obviously noticed by the way he blinked and swallowed. He seemed to allow it before abruptly announcing he wanted a pop and stood to leave.

Poor Richie looked as if he was punched in the gut as he lowered his hand back into his lap. Stan bit into his cheek and made to follow his short friend.

He met him at the shockingly white fridge with a look of sympathy. He leaned his chin on the open fridge door and sighed. “Judging by the way you sprang out of there, you two haven’t talked about anything, huh?”

Eddie jumped. Stan always loved his habit of entering a room mysteriously. It was truly a gift....a really fun gift too. Eddie slammed the fridge and shrugged.

“We have not said a word about anything.” He paused and leaned back on the kitchen counter. “I just...I don’t want things to be weird.”

Stan thought about the way Richie had looked like a kicked puppy earlier and shuddered. “I don’t know if you can avoid that, Eddie.”

“I can try.” Eddie gave him a sarcastic and upset grin before completely brushing him off to head back for the basement.

Stan shook his head. Life was going to get real complicated real fast.

#the kids are alright #the losers club #it's been a hot minute #stephen king #Stephen kings IT #IT by stephen king #reddie #benverly #source: that 70s show #that 70s show #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stan uris #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #my fanfiction

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ladywolfmd · 7 years ago

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Ships that Pass in the Night

Part I & II | Part III & IV | Part V & VI | Part VII & VIII | Part IX & X

Part III: The Bus

He yawned as he rubbed the back of his neck while he waited for the bus. It was a long flight and it’s been months since he actually flew North.

Finally, his bus pulled up and as per usual, he let everyone go up before he entered, not minding where he sat on the bus.

It was a good thing that he changed out of his uniform and into something more comfortable, he thought as memories of the time he didn’t made him flush with embarrassment from the attention he got. He just wanted to go home, maybe catch some sleep on the way, peacefully and incognito.

Once he got inside, he saw only one seat was unoccupied, right next to an elderly woman who smiled at him and nodded for him to take the seat.

He smiled back and took a seat, already feeling his eyelids growing heavy.

His nose wrinkled when he met with a feminine scent and something soft brushed over his nose, waking him up. He squinted an eye open and saw that holding the rail in the middle aisle was a woman. And not just any woman, but a beautiful one with red hair, creamy skin, and if he didn’t move she was going to fall over---

He placed a tentative hand on her back to steady her and tried to wake her. She jumped then and looked at him with apologetic eyes and a pretty blush but before he could offer her his seat, she got called in the back and got offered there instead, leaving him to watch as she hurried over there.

Continue reading on AO3 or here.

A giggle made him turn back to look at the woman beside him.

“Nice save, but too slow on the follow up,” she whispered with an arch of her brow, making his ears turn pink.

“I’m not--“

She raised her brows. “Oh, sorry. The way your looked lingered, I didn’t think you were already taken. Unless you’re actually—“

He shook his head frantically. “I’m single! And I would never—“

The woman looked at him with a satisfied smile. “Didn’t peg you to be the type. So why is a handsome lad like you not snatched up yet?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “Many things. Work, mostly.”

She raised a brow again and hummed. “If you say so, Captain.”

His eyes bulged in shock. “How?”

The old woman chuckled and pointed to his leather briefcase his mother got him for his promotion. There on his black leather bag was his name monogrammed.

Captain Jon Snow

He grinned sheepishly at the woman. “Oh.”

But to Jon’s horror, the woman stood up and glanced at the back before grinning up at him when she sat back with a twinkle in her eyes.

“The darling girl is very lovely but poor dear is knocked out. No ring…alone…is she a tourist or a local? You should make sure she gets home safe, or at least get off the bus alright.”

Without meaning to, Jon found himself glancing behind him only to glare right back at the woman just as fast. “You told me she was asleep!” he hissed, his face reddening when just a second ago, he was staring directly into the surprised eyes of the beautiful redhead.

The woman was chuckling and completely unapologetic. “Ah? Did I? Chalk it up to old age then.”

Jon rubbed his face and fought from shaking his head, knowing she could see him. Wait. She was already staring when he looked…

“Epiphany there?”

He ran a hand through his hair, forgetting that he had to cut it short. He sighed and rubbed his beard instead—the one concession they let him keep with his appearance.

“Come on, smile at her. Who knows? Aren’t pilots supposed to be brave?”

Jon swallowed. Maybe this was a sign. Val and Satin wanted him to meet with a redheaded passenger before, and here was an old woman pushing him to do the same.

Maybe it was time.

Especially with how his dreams were going…

He took a deep breath then and mustered the courage to glance back and just give a smile. It was a smile, damn it. He could do it.

But just as he was about to face her, the bus lurched to a stop and people were already fast out of their seats.

The old woman sighed. “Time’s up, I suppose,” she muttered low enough that Jon was barely able to get it.

Jon sighed as well and shook his head as he started helping the woman with her luggage.

But just as he was about to turn around, he felt his body shiver as he smelled the same floral scent from before waft from behind him. He whirled around quickly but frowned when he only managed to see the back of her head, a few wisps of her red hair escaping from a large hat that wasn’t there before as people weaved in between them on the aisle, and then she was out.

“Oh for the love of the old gods and the new, go,” he felt a shove and turned to look at the woman roll her eyes before shooing him away. “I’ll be fine, cap. Go. Before it’s too late!”

Jon didn’t know why but with a nod, he started pushing his way past the people, down and out the bus, looking around to catch her.

And do what exactly?

Jon didn’t get a chance to think on his answer when the moment he saw her at last, a car pulled up in front of her, and she was enveloped in the arms of a tall, blonde man who kissed the top of her head, opening the passenger door for her where she slid inside, grinning happily.

Part IV: The Hotel

“So how are you Sans?”

Sansa blinked and looked at her brother’s closest friend, Theon who was looking at her funny while he waited for the greenlight.

“Sorry, Theon, what was the question?”

Theon chuckled and gave an amused smile as he pushed the car forward. “Nothing. Just trying to make small talk.”

Sansa frowned making him laugh some more.

“Seriously, Sans. What got your head in the clouds? A new boyfriend, Robb doesn’t know about yet?” He waggled his brows.

Sansa rolled her eyes and leant against the window. She wasn’t in the mood for that kind of talk right now. But then a memory of earlier events made her blush.

“Oh! So there is a boy. Come on Sans. We’re family, right? Spill!”

Sansa sighed and shook her head. “There’s no one, Theon. Not since…”

Theon snorted then. “Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that fucker. He was a wanker from the beginning, Sans.”

That made her smile a little. Harry cheated on her multiple times and it was nice to know that everyone – even Theon wanted to defend her honor or something.

“I’m not, I promise,” she grinned at him, earning a nod of approval. “Good.”

Then he gave his sly smile again. “You were blushing a minute ago. What was that about?”

Like a traitor, her face felt warm again. “Nothing.”

He huffed. “Come on Sans. Something interesting must’ve happened earlier.”

She pursed her lips. No. She was too embarrassed. Honestly! She almost fell on her face on the bus if the handsome stranger didn’t—

A groan.

“Wow. You’re as red your hair! Come on, confess to brother Theon.”

“No. You’ll just make fun of me,” she crossed her arms and held her chin up.

“If I promise not to laugh out loud, would you tell me?”

She looked at him warily. “Promise?”

He grinned his crooked grin. “Yes.”

“Fine. At the bus, I was on the standing zone and I sort of fell asleep…”

“Sans…”

She huffed, “I know, it was reckless of me but I’m really exhausted and you try dancing—

“Alright, alright, I get it. So, what happened? You fell flat on your ass?”

She bit her lip. “I almost did but a stranger caught me,” she blushed again. A very handsome stranger.

“Ah.”

“And that’s it. The End,” she tried to play some music but Theon swatted her hand.

“Uh uh. There’s more to it. That was a handsome stranger, wasn’t it?” He smirked.

“Fine! He was gorgeous,” dark hair, grey eyes, and a pouty lip that looked soft.

“So what did you do? Did you bat your lashes at him, gave him those baby blues and a thank you?”

She shut her eyes and covered them with her hands. “I panicked and someone offered me a seat at the back so I took it. And now I feel bad because I never thanked him. Gods!”

“Wow.”

Sansa peeked from behind her fingers. “Wow? That’s all you have to say?”

Theon shook his head in disbelief. “Sansa Stark, panicking over a boy nonetheless. I must be in an alternate universe,” he chuckled.

“It’s not funny! And you promised not to laugh!” She poked him.

“I said I wouldn’t laugh out loud,” he winked.

“Thanks,” she spat and turned away to face the window. Remembering that he caught her staring at him and still she didn’t thank him. Not even waited for him to exit the bus.

“Sorry, but this is unusual. The old Sansa I knew would’ve politely thanked him in the least,” he shrugged.

“I know. But somehow… I felt nervous, okay?” And he gave me butterflies. Just one look and she was nervous. She never felt this way before.

Well she did, but not in reality.

Only in her dreams.

But no one needs to know that but her.

“Well, it was probably the best not to flirt with a random passenger,” he shrugged again before smirking.

“Sure, Theon.” She poked him again earning another chuckle. Theon was a notorious flirt in any place.

“Trust me, there are better ways to meet the love of your life,” he sing-songed annoyingly.

“Just drive, Theon,” she muttered.

“Sorry baby girl. Anyway, that guy, your glorious knight of the bus, he was that good looking to make Princess Sansa panic? Was he tall, blonde, and charming?”

“For your information he had nice dark hair—wait, ugh!” Sansa couldn’t believe she walked into that one. Theon and her siblings loved to tease her about dating ‘princely blondes’ who turned out to be troglodytes in their true form.

Theon was trying hard to contain his laughter. “I’m just dicking around San. Blondes. Brunettes. We’d all castrate them for you if they make the wrong move, you know that, right?”

She smiled at him then. “Yes. Thanks by the way, for picking me up last minute. I could’ve hailed a cab from the stop you know.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal, Sans. And your brother feels like shit over your car arrangement. Anyway, here we are.”

Theon dropped her off the Wolf’s Den. One of her family’s hotel chain where she was immediately given the key to her favorite suite for this branch, which was the Mermaid Room. She offered to treat Theon to dinner but he had to drive back to Moat Cailin to pick up Rickon next before they head back to Winterfell for the Holidays.

Sansa wanted to go with them but she already promised to be Wylla Manderly’s special guest for their annual ball.

Her luggage was brought up ahead to her room when she decided to grab a coffee and pastry from the hotel’s bakery. Once she had them, she stepped inside the elevator, smiling politely at the other passengers as they entered.

But just before the doors closed, someone yelled “Wait!”

And Sansa was shocked to see that it was the handsome stranger from the bus.

Her heart sped up and she was about to hold the door open for him when the man in front of her blocked her view and pressed the door close.

“Sorry, I’m in a hurry,” the man muttered half-heartedly. “He should’ve gone faster.”

Sansa wanted to throw a fit at how rude the man was but she was too busy thinking if she should get off the next floor and go down and thank the man finally and maybe… but as soon as the thought formed, she shooed them away, knowing that the man probably didn’t recognize her or see her at all and was likely on a different elevator by now.

With a resolved sigh, she pressed the button to her floor and tried not to dwell too much on the thought that the mysterious stranger was in the same hotel with her.

#gotsecretsanta #weasleyrose #jonsa fic #jonsa #ladywolfmdfic

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blueberryspacemagic · 8 years ago

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Tagged by @becksterres long time ago, sorry for that ;;;

i. how old?

I turned eighteen (18) in November ;;

ii. current job?

I’m in my high school and I don’t have any job yet!

iii. dream job?

Animator? Writer?

I’m still thinking about being voice actor or and actor ;;;

iv. what are you talented at?

Honestly? My only talent is being multitasker. I like to try out new things. I’m practising drawing, singing, playing the piano. I like acting, a lot! I’m also trying to write a little (altough this one is the worst from all of these). I don’t think these are talents but I’m not the worst at them ;;;

v. what is a big goal you are working towards/achieved already?

I got more organised and responsible. Seriously, a few years ago I was SO CHILDISH and reckless. But now? I’m taking care of myself. Heck, it doesn’t always work but I’m trying.

vi. what’s your aesthetic?

Hoodies/jumpers and jeans? Formal clothing, like shirts, fancy trousers, black hats, gloves and coats? Some kind of french-revolution clothes with golden buttons? Funny hats? DJ-ish look? T-shirts with cool signs on it? Combat trousers and dirty jacket? Capes? I have so many of them, idk ;;

vii. do you collect anything?

Only my old drawings, lol. And old, not working headphones |D

vii. what is a topic you always bring up in conversation?

POLISH OBLIGATORY BOOKS

I don’t even know why. But they’re always there.

Also my family and psychology facts.

ix. what’s a pet peeve of yours?

Clock’s ticking, rain kitting my roof hard (it’s right next to me, guys, you don’t understand), talking when I need focus, touching me... almost in every part of my body, when the books are not sorted by the size, language mistakes in my native language, too many swears. I think that’s all/

x. good advice to give?

I think the one (1) thing people should have in their lives is harmony. Most of us and the world itself is usually forcing black-and-white mindset which is not right. It’s easier (and sometimes not even dependant of us) to go on extremes. And I know it’s so hard to change it sometimes. It’s okay. I’m not blaming anyone for this. However, working on the balanced thinking is really important and might help a lot. It helped me, at least ;;;

xi. recommend three songs or more

Caravan Palace - Long Digger

Sia - Angel By The Wings

Les Friction - Who Will Save You Now

Not tagging anyone ;;;

Thank you!!

#well actually it was an unexpected tag #it was so lovely of you thank yoU!!#tag #Koral has a voice #becksterres #hello~ it's me #about me

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allofbeercom · 6 years ago

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The brave new world of the xx, pop’s brooding perfectionists

Solo success, confronting grief, sobering up the feted London trio talk frankly about how the events of the past four years informed their new album, I See You

The three members of the xx cross from Poland into Lithuania overnight, trying to sleep inside a bus that judders and lurches along an uneven border road. It is December, an unforgiving time to be touring eastern Europe, and snow that was coming in committedly when they left Warsaw still falls when they arrive in Vilnius, the Lithuanian capital. Its cold here, beer-jacket weather, hot-toddy weather, get-messed-up-after-the-gig-to-distract-from-the-bite weather. But the band Oliver Sim, Romy Madley Croft, Jamie Smith travel in good, sober order. They toured their first album, in 2010, blinkingly, greenly, through a fog of personal tragedy. Two years later they got through a second-album tour mostly by partying wherever they went. (Moving from encore to after-show chasing the night, as the band phrase it in a new song, Replica.) When we meet, the release of album number three, I See You, is looming. For various reasons they expect to take this one around the world in steadier, less emotionally hectic fashion.

Arriving in central Vilnius at 10am, the trio alight from the tour bus and teeter over icy pavement, straight to their hotel rooms for some extra sleep. Im in the lobby waiting for them when they emerge, one by one, at midday. Sim (27 years old, bassist and co-vocalist) appears in a splendid fur-lapelled coat. His enormous green eyes lend him at once a striking handsomeness as well as the perpetual suggestion of worry. More so than Sim, Madley Croft (27, lead guitar and vocals) is dressed for her terrain: leather boots, hoodie, black-camo raincoat, a hat over her dark shoulder-length hair. A stitched image on the hat is faded and hard to distinguish and when I ask her what it is she answers in a soft, whistling voice: Three babies dancing. She says she found the hat in a skate shop somewhere. Smith (28, percussion and production) might have found his entire outfit in a Sports Direct somewhere. He comes down in Nike T-shirt, Adidas trackies, his copper curls sprouting over the strap of a backwards-turned cap.

Theres something drastic and strange about Smiths appearance that takes a moment for me to identify. Hes smiling. I find this hard to reconcile with our last encounter.

In the hotel lobby, the band and I reminisce about meeting last time, more than four years ago, when I shadowed them for a couple of days as they toured through Los Angeles. They were about to debut Coexist, their second album, high in the British and American charts. Their first album, xx, had won the Mercury prize in the UK and gone gold in the US. Its sound sexily gnomic lyrics sung huskily over precise and chilly synths was exerting a blatant influence on the music industry, imitators of the xx springing up all over the place. Now Baz Luhrmann was courting them for one of his soundtracks, and he showed up one night in Hollywood to buy rounds of drinks. The band went to after-parties backstage at the Ford theatre, by the pool at the Chateau Marmont, on the roof of a downtown hotel.

Watch the video for the xxs single On Hold.

I remember the experience for the hilarious difficulty of interviewing Smith, who was then emerging as the silent genius of the group, an unfeasibly talented engine-room operator who was responsible for so much of their musics distinctive and influential texture. At the time he betrayed none of the weight or assurance of someone with great and growing industry clout. Instead he seemed to trust that if he stayed quiet enough during our encounters I might forget he was there.

These days Smith tells stories, tells jokes. While he speaks he taps his fingers in time to some imagined and apparently buoyant interior music. If theres a reticence to him, still, it transmits as a cooler and more grown-up nonchalance. Life, is his deadpan explanation for the transformation. I went from being 23 to 28. It happens to everyone. Perhaps theres a little more to say. Under his solo stage name, Jamie xx has long tended a fertile sideline as a DJ and a producer of other artists work. In summer 2015 he released an album of his own, In Colour, that was enough of a hit to fuel a substantial world tour. He was nominated for the Mercury and Grammy awards. Its easy to see how much Jamies changed, says Madley Croft. Its obvious, because of his personal career hes more confident.

Sim and Madley Croft made guest appearances on their friends solo record. But this was very much Smiths project, one that had been building up for quite a while, and its gestation contributed directly to the years-long wait between the xxs second and third albums. The band started writing material for I See You as long ago as 2014. But the finish line, as Sim describes it, kept getting pushed further away into the future. He is diplomatic about the difficulty of Jamie just not being available. Even though he was really pushing himself, and not giving himself time off, getting face-time with him was tricky. Smith is apologetic. I was busy doing my thing. It was going well. I was happy in that way. But I was also anxious about finishing our [group] record. I definitely felt bad, coming and going. And I did understand that Romy and Oliver were really anxious to finish it. Because they didnt have They obviously had things going on. But they didnt have a creative outlet.

The band get ready to leave the hotel for an afternoon of rehearsals. Before we spill out into taxis I take Sim out of earshot of the other two, and ask: What about jealousy? We cant always rely on ourselves, as humans, to be perfectly delighted by our friends achievements. What did you and Romy really feel while Jamie was flying solo?

There were moments when I felt jealous of his time, Sim says.

And of his success?

Sim speaks carefully. I think of jealousy as: I dont want you to have this. And I felt proud of Jamie. I felt pleased for him that he had all of this going on. But, at the same time, I wanted this. Me and Romy wanted this. We wanted to be back up there, on stage, with a fire lit underneath us.

The trio strongly believe the hiatus has been beneficial to their music. I agree. After his secondment in a more dancefloor-orientated world, Smith has brought back with him to the xx a sense of pace and playfulness, obvious from the very first hands-in-the-air bars of the new record. Across its length the album has a brewed, stewy, experience-enriched quality, subtly but importantly different from the older stuff, which always had terrific clarity but which could lack human warmth.

From a bald commercial perspective the bands absence does not seem to have unduly alienated the fanbase. All tickets for seven nights at Londons Brixton Academy in March recently sold out. Still, there have been some surreal moments for Sim and Madley Croft during their semi-enforced sabbatical. They describe to me how bizarre it felt, trotting along to watch Smith play alone at Brixton, a spiritual home of sorts for the xx and a place they had played many times together. Only now two-thirds of the band were stood among the audience craning like everyone else to see over the next head.

Rehearsals are taking place at the venue for tonights show, a mid-sized arena on the outskirts of Vilnius. I ride there in a cab with Madley Croft, who has a digital camera and takes occasional pictures of the bleak winter landscape. Touring, she says, means seeing countries through the windows of cars. Tomorrow the band will fly to Japan. After that Australia, then Scandinavia, and eventually back for those Brixton dates and four other UK shows. They were on a killer tour the last time we met too. Then, they spoke to me about how strange an existence it was, their every need taken care of while they moseyed from encore to after-party. They made it sound cloying but also comforting, cocoon-ing, in Madley Crofts phrase. At the time I wondered what the effects might be, of the long tour finishing and all the machinery of the band falling away, leaving them to their own devices again.

It took an adjustment, Madley Croft says, of varying degrees for the three of them. She thinks Sim probably found it the hardest. Oliver, to me, is the natural performer of the band. I know he gets a lot of confidence from performing. And I sensed he might not be quite sure what his place was, for a while, when we were off stage. For herself, Madley Croft used the time away to address private matters shed ignored for some time. Stuff from the past. Losses Ive had. It all kind of hit me.

Smith, AKA Jamie xx, playing Londons Hyde Park last summer. Because of his personal career, hes more confident, says bandmate Photograph: RMV/Rex/Shutterstock

Wed touched lightly on this in Los Angeles her difficult backstory, intimately and pretty cruelly interwoven with the backstory of her band. She was only 11, in 2001, when her mother died. (This was a few years before she started writing music with Sim a friend from school in Putney, London as a form of escapism.) Her father died in early 2010 when she was 20. (By now, with Smith, another schoolfriend, the three were established as the xx. They were performing an early show in Paris when the news about Madley Crofts father reached them.) Towards the end of 2010 a close friend of hers, a cousin, died too. (The band had just won the Mercury and were becoming quite famous.) By the time I met them all in Los Angeles, Madley Croft was 22. Shed barely stopped touring or recording since her double bereavement in 2010, and I got the sense of a young woman putting a lot on hold.

The last few years have been, for me, about facing all of it, she explains. At the time I just went for it. Encore, after-party, encore, after-party. Its only on reflection I think how intense everything must have been, and how I just pushed it down. But everything comes up. Ive learned that everything comes up.

When we met before she was in the first months of a relationship with a designer, Hannah Marshall, who was then travelling with the band. They were sweet together, newly and sorely inked with matching tattoos patently in deep, even though Madley Croft seemed a little awkward in a public setting, as if she was getting used to her band-life and love-life intermingling. When we first got together Hannah was always so much better in social situations than me. I felt so shy. But through being with her I feel so much more at ease. Ive noticed thats happened in a different way with me than it has with the boys. And I know its because Ive been with someone.

The couple recently got engaged. It was the stability of the relationship, Madley Croft says, that gave her the grounding she needed to look squarely at her past. She went from pushing down thoughts about her parents to actually kind of craving going to therapy and dealing with it… Its an ongoing thing, she says. I feel like Ive dealt with a chunk. With a hell of a lot more than I ever did before. And the self-examination has borne creative fruit. Right in the middle of the xxs new album comes its tenderest and most nakedly spiritual track, Brave for You, a song that Madley Croft wrote about drawing strength from the memory of her parents.

We pull into the car park of the venue, sure weve got the right place because we can see the steaming figure of Sim, shivering in his coat, smoking a cigarette. Together he and Madley Croft clomp inside, shed their layers, and walk to the stage. She takes up her Les Paul guitar, he his Fender, and behind them on an elevated platform Smith finds his place among an array of mixers and synthesisers. Performing for an empty arena, they play a few old songs and a couple of newer ones, including Brave for You. Smith taps out a high rhythmic pulse. Sim waits for his moment to apply some bass. Madley Croft closes her eyes and sings: When Im scared/ I imagine you there/ Telling me to be brave

Madley Croft with her fiancee, designer Hannah Marshall. Photograph: David M Benett/Getty Images for Equipment

The rehearsal lasts a long time: hours. I perch with Smith in his mixing station and watch over his shoulder as the trio pick through 20-odd songs. Sometimes the noise, ringing off the exposed concrete of the arena, is tremendous. During uptempo songs Smith starts dancing, big-stepping in time like a cowboy at a line dance, thrashing his head like a metalhead in a mosh pit. Impossible to imagine, Madley Croft says, the old Jamie doing this.

Sim, frowning, the least at ease on stage today, unsticks a printed set list from the floor. He thinks back to the previous gig in Poland and says: Oh. I spoke in the wrong place last night. After a lifetime trying to maintain belief in the spontaneity of artist-to-audience banter, its a little shattering for me to learn that the xx arrange their chatty interludes in advance. But these guys are precision workers, broody perfectionists; and theyre rusty in their stagecraft after so long apart. When they rehearse a mid-gig spectacular of mashed-up songs, the music builds and builds, smoke machines gushing, some glorious climax imminent until at the clinching moment Smith slaps a button on his mixer and a deafening error-sound hums around the arena.

Everyone flinches. Argggh, shouts Smith. The mixer is unplugged and hauled away in machine-disgrace. The band take a break. Smith consults a roadie about a replacement. Sim drifts off stage. Madley Croft picks up her phone and taps out a message to someone.

Im starting to see that these three took very different paths away from their last album. Madley Croft into domestic stability and a worked-for interior peace. Smith into self-affirming solo work. Sims route took him where? He has always been the xxs most elliptical member, a charming if skittish, ambiguous interviewee. Unlike Madley Croft he has resisted overt statements about his sexuality. And the particulars of his family background, apparently as troubled as hers, remain much more opaque. When the New Yorker published a deep-digging profile of the band in 2014, the reporter was obliged to include a vague line about Sims early life, which was scarred by family dysfunction that he declines to discuss. Madley Croft has grown over time into openness, Smith into sureness. Sim seems still on his way somewhere.

Maybe theres a clue in the new music. I See You has a couple of tracks that come over as more direct and less cryptic than anything else in the bands back catalogue. A Violent Noise, for example, seems to be about partying too much, overdoing it (Youve been staying out late/ Trying your best to escape). In a subsequent track, Replica, chiefly written and sung by Sim, it sounds as if an unnamed parent is being addressed: Ive turned out just like you They all say I will become a replica/ [That] your mistakes were only chemical 25 and youre just like me Is it in my nature to be stuck on repeat?

Photograph: Suki Dhanda for the Observer

Away from the rehearsal I sit down with Sim and tell him the lyrics to Replica register, to me at least, as a kind of confession. A child of addiction, growing up to worry he has become an addict himself, wondering if the problem is unavoidable and hereditary or whether he can go down a different path. Does that sound accurate?

Sim, his large eyes open to their fullest extent, stares over my head for a while. Then he clears his throat and says: Um. Well. Thats kind of bang on, your reading.

He takes a breath. Yeah. Just kind of That was a big thing to deal with, over the past couple of years. Just kind of dealing with my relationship with using [drugs]. With drinking. And, um. And also my parents. Yeah. He says its a shock to realise that the private matters underlying this song have come over so plainly. This conversation is a bit of an eye-opener.

He started writing Replica, he says, a couple of years ago. Before I was taking any action. Or saying anything out loud. The bands 2012 tour had finished. The pace we were moving at stopped, suddenly. It was a pretty flaky existence Yknow, I left school thinking I wanted to live my life like a nomad, free-floating. Turns out I absolutely need some kind of structure. Living back in London again, structure-less, he thought of his drinking and drug-taking as blowing off steam. Later, I started to wonder if it was still charming to be the drunkest person in a room.

His decision to seek help took a while. A long, drawn-out decision. Smith was away gigging. Madley Croft was travelling the US with her girlfriend. I felt a bit lost. The schoolfriends all describe this period end of 2014, start of 2015 as the farthest apart theyd been from one another, geographically but emotionally too. As Madley Croft puts it: We werent in tune. Jamie was on tour. Oliver wasnt being entirely truthful with me about what he was going through. Walls were up.

When they did regather, Sim brought them the lyrics to Replica. Madley Croft recalls the moment. I thought: This is very real. Even though everything we do is real, this felt more transparent? It felt brave. And I loved that he let me in, to discuss it.

Sim makes it sound inevitable it should be writing, rather than talking, that helped bring down the walls between the band. Im a lot better and braver in songwriting than I am in conversation.

He says he has noticed, of course, how much his two friends have evolved in recent years. Theyve come on in leaps and bounds. He says he feels more sluggish in his own progress, a bit stunted People are like, So Jamies done his record and toured the world. What have you done? To be honest, Ive just been at home, figuring stuff out. He doesnt seem to realise that hes made the most progress of everyone. I ask him how long hes been sober.

Watch the video for the xxs Say Something Loving.

Eleven months, he says.

And?

And lifes been transitional, he says, smiling shyly. Quite a shift. Tonights show in Vilnius, for instance, the fifth of the current tour, will be the fifth show hes done in his career without drink. Its why I dont maybe feel so confident here. I dont have that support. I dont have my booze blanket. Everything feels more raw.

Are you happier?

Im. He stops and considers. Im Yes, I am happy. Im sort of adjusting to a different pace of life. But yeah, Im good. I feel anxious. About the next year [of touring], and being away from home. I wonder how its going to play out. But Im excited too. He might be about to experience the beginnings of a music career for a second time. I realise I was never entirely present before. Booze took away the nerves. But it also, like, definitely capped the highs. If hes sacrificed some self-confidence, he says, at least hes gained some self-understanding. Madley Croft agrees. I think hes getting to know himself. Who he is, as a 27-year-old, not as a performer on stage, but in life. Im really proud of him.

Soon enough their rehearsal resumes. Theres not long to go until the show now, and fans are beginning to appear in the snow outside. The band practise what will be the nights final run of songs. They try Intro, one of the first things they ever wrote together, as well as a new track, a happy-sad doozy called On Hold, which explores the ways in which life can seem to move at different speeds for different people. Transitioning from the old song to the new, Smith turns a dial on his mixer. Madley Croft steps forward and sings her half of the shared lyrics, Sim his. Then they sway, gently, by their mic stands.

At the end of the song the two guitarists lay down their instruments. Smith tidies his things. Madley Croft walks around taking a few photographs of the arena before it fills with people. Sim, before he leaves the stage, attaches a small light to his microphone stand. So that hell be able to find his way back to it, later, in the dark.

I See You is out now on Young Turks. The xx play UK shows from 4-17 March

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-brave-new-world-of-the-xx-pops-brooding-perfectionists/

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grapsandclaps · 7 years ago

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PROGRESS LA DANSE MACABRE - THE GRAPS AND CLAPS REVIEW

Hello again everyone and welcome to Part 3 in the ever continuing story of the #100showyear which took me to a cold but sunny London Borough of Camden to the Electric Ballroom for the return of Progress Wrestling after a 7 week break from their huge Ally Pally show which ended with Travis Banks raising the title and Pete Dunne with one foot on the plane to Orlando to the WWE. So it was fascinating to see what would happen on this show to set up further storylines to entice the increasing mass of people to their shows.

Before the show it was time to meet up with some of the graps gang in The Ice Wharf Wetherspoons for breakfast and a couple of drinks. The lack of change from a £20 nite was noticeable after ordering 2 drinks and 2 lots of breakfast, all I can think about is that the price of Lager Shandy is expensive. Also had here was 2 pints of Pepsi Max at a cost of £1.99 each, breakfast was a bit on the lukewarm side of things but was passable.

We end up leaving here at about 2pm and moved on to the queue at the Ballroom, since the new barcoding ticketing system has come in, the queue has moved along much faster and has improved this aspect of visiting.

Arriving in the venue we saw what was some hot sauces on sale (to charity) made by resident screamer on the commentary - Glen Joseph and having tried this sauce Ive got to say it has a kick to it - strange but good touch for a great cause like MIND. I didn't happen to see Dahlia Blacks candles on sale though, certainly could do with a bit more art and crafts stuff from wrestlers on sale as there are quiet a lot of arty people in the fraternity.

Anyways lets get on to the wrestling, watched from my usual spot in Ogden Corner with the dodgy cold air con unit and I was joined by former Graps and Claps coloumnist Matthew who apart from a couple of shows is taking a hiatus from going to shows and instead he is off visiting the many football grounds around the UK and Europe. Having visited plenty of grounds in my time, i can understand why he is doing it - I just think he is a bit burnt out fron wrestling. It was also good for a change to chat to Stephen who flew over from Ireland and Simon (The Granville on Twitter).

Pre show action began at 330pm on the dot and out came the tag team of Delaney and Carter to a good reception for 2 unknown wrestlers but it was nothing compared to the earth shattering cheer that was to come. Their opponents - The O.J.M.O who had the look of a Ryan Smile and look like he had a lit of charisma just in his entrance but who was his tag team partner - the hush and tension descended and out stepped a 7 ft shadow of NA NA NA NA NA BIG T!!. The Northern section of the crowd were in raptures with this. The actual match was a good warm up match with it revolving around O.J.M.O failing to hit his moves and BIG T just tagging in and cleaning house and I liked their team dynamic. The finish came when BIG T hit the "Justice is Served" only for O.J.M.O to tag in to get the win, this was a great introduction for them to a new audience.

After the obligatory Jim Smallman opening, it was time to bring out British Strong Style who were dressed in their finest Burtons Menswear with Tyler Bate especially doing his best Val Doonican impression.

Anyways Dunne apologised for his actions as Progress Champion and was sort of saying its not goodbye yet but it might be soon. But they were interrupted by ITVs New Sunday Night Drama - The Grizzled Young Vets who distracted Moustache Mountain long enough to send them to the back leaving Pete Dunne on his own in the ring, but racing through from the fire exit near me was Joseph Connors to attack Dunne to leave him laying which has set up a potential Dunne vs Connors match very soon.

Opinion here rated from this was a good segment to turn BSS face to Bloody hell another WWE UK Guy 🙄. My opinion was a bit of the latter, but I dont mind Joseph Connors unlike others, his Southside Comedy belt has been a highlight when I have been to see them this year.

First main show match was Never Say Die & Connor Mills vs OMARI & Aussie Open in a great opener and for me it was the best match of the first half with all 6 lads looking fantastic especially the debuting OMARI who came out to a nice jazzy theme tune which even though it was no 'Down with the trumpets' it was a toe tapper. Also Mark Davis who is a proper hard man and I for one would like to see him vs WALTER one day for the Atlas title. The finish came after about 15 minutes when after a couple of combo moves from The Aussies and OMARI, Davis hit the pull up piledriver for the devastating 3 count - good stuff.

Next up was a more submission based between Strangler Davis vs Timothy Thatcher. Now this was just ok in parts but generally I dont think it worked with the crowd, playing out to large spots of silence which I did feel was a recurring theme at many times on the night. Finish came when Strangler low blowed Thatcher and choked him out for the win in 14 minutes - OK but very missable.

Next match was a Non-Title Tag Team Match with The G.Y.Vs vs Chris Brookes and Jimmy Havoc who was replacing a still injured Kid Lykos. A decent tag match but I did feel it went a little bit long near the ends with many false finishes with The Vets getting the win with the raised lung blower to Jimmy Havoc for the win.

Half Time Main Event was the big ATLAS Title Match with Wolfgang vs WALTER (Champion). This lasted around 10 minutes with what I thought 7 minutes of that was WALTER smashing Wolfgang all over the shop with chops that could make any crowd wince, if this is of things that are to come WALTER is going to make a great champion. Finish came after a dive from Wolfgang to the outside ended in a splat, the effects of that made him groggy enough to get waffled with a huge powerbomb to Wolfgang for the win - good match and hopefully this is built and built till no one is left for WALTER and then the chimes of The Flumps is heard and Rampage Brown makes his return 😉.

Tag Team action next with the newly turned Moustache Mountain vs David Starr (sadly without Joan Jetts dulcet tones due to the Casio Keyboard glitch in the Progress sound system) and Jack Sexsmith. Even with two teams of good guys this was a really good 15 minute tag team match with the finish of Tyler Bate hitting the big Tyler Driver 97 to everyones favourite Canvasback David Starr for the win.

After the match Jack Sexsmith got on the mic to thank everyone because of the year he has had only to be interrupted by the pop classic MASH POTATO ELEVATOR!!! And out popped Vicky Haskins distracting Sexsmith enough with a GIANT HAIRBRUSH for Mark Haskins to attack him from behind. Out then came Jimny Havoc for the save (what we thought) only to join in on the beatdown on both Starr and Sexsmith to the boos of the crowd.

A much needed heel turn in my opinion for both Jimmy and Mark who were treading water as whining faces over who should be champion. But the only thing I couldnt get my head around was the NO DQ match at Ally Pally and basically both of the Haskins willing to hit Jimmy with a baseball bat a few times and now they are mates?? But im sure we will find out.

Semi Main Event with Womens Champion Toni Storm vs Charli Evans. A distinct lack of knowledge of 80s hit Toms Diner was apparent here with not many of the crowd knowing that Charli's name fits into the ditty of said song. The match itself was a really good womens match but suffered a little from the quiet crowd, after a valiant effort from Evans she ended up falling to Storm in just over 10 minutes to the Strong Zero Piledriver.

Main Event time with ITS GOT TO BEEEEEEE KEITH LEE vs Travis Banks in a fantastic 20 minute match that I guess Travis will be feeling even now after being constantly chopped by the huge "Man of the Hour". After many attempts to chop down Big Keith, Travis finally hit a ring shaking Kiwi Crusher on Keith for the win to steal the Match of the Night honours.

Drinks prices - £4.90 for Camden Pale Ale.

Show done and overall a good starter to the next volume of shows for Progress with the Havoc/Haskins team coming together, Connors debuting and the Grizzled Young Vets throwing their hat in the ring for a tag title shot.

As a standalone show it was alright but WXW was far better from an atmosphere and wrestling standpoint, but do check out Lee vs Banks and the opening 6 Man for things off this show.

So thats Show 82 finished and now its on to Show 83 in Manchester for Lucha Forever - See you next time.

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junker-town · 7 years ago

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Letter to a younger me about catfish and hockey in Nashville

You don’t think your hometown can truly turn up about anything but you will be proven wrong.

You were wrong about a few things. First; You were born here in Nashville, and it’s never exactly felt warm to you, has it? It’s not a warm place, emotionally speaking. It’s fine if you like church, country music, or ham, and you only like one of those. You can take ham home; The rest, you can live without, and that’s your relationship with Nashville, a place you were born but never really from, exactly.

That part is still true. You’re not really for this place, and that’s fine for both of you. Nashville works really well at a low boil. That lukewarm feeling is sort of by design: It’s a hub for the health care industry and banking and a lot of other businesses that spend most of the day figuring out how to hedge bets against mortality. It is a city that makes most of its bank trying to be something like Las Vegas without the sin, and with a nice sideline on figuring out the optimal way to overcharge patients for IV bags. It’s a place that turned country music into an office job with regular hours. That’s about as Nashville as it gets, historically speaking.

For instance, I parked at the Frist Center for the Arts — paid for by a lot of that drudgery turned into profit— and then walked down Demonbreun Street to Bridgestone Arena to listen to Faith Hill sing the national anthem at an event. That all makes sense. You wouldn’t be surprised by that, or that eventually someone would figure out a way to take all those lovely brick buildings downtown and gentrify them into something profitable and shiny.

This is not a typo: A hockey game will be the biggest thing in town, and Nashville will show the hell out for it like nothing you’ve ever seen there.

You’ll be wrong and surprised about why. You’ll be surprised to hear that the anthem was happening for an NHL game, and that Nashville would mark out for it like it was an SEC tailgate. This is not a typo: A hockey game will be the biggest thing in town, and Nashville will show the hell out for it like nothing you’ve ever seen there.

Oh, by the way, Nashville has a hockey team. Should have led with that. They do, and Atlanta doesn’t, and if you’ll give it a minute only one of these is really surprising to either of us.

You’ll be surprised because Nashville doesn’t really mark out for much that isn’t country music. The Titans won’t really inspire much passion. They shouldn’t, because they are an NFL team, and NFL teams have an allergy to fun, anyway. There’s an SEC team in town, but for the most part that passion will be housed safely and securely several hours away. Most Nashvillians’ sporting embarrassments will be kept in Knoxville, Oxford, Athens, or in other nice sheds visited on fall weekends. You and the team can both fall on your face and say hateful, insane things — and on Monday, it will all be a distant, well-contained mess.

You’ll be surprised that all those Michiganders and Ohioans who come down for the auto industry’s big move south are contagious. Nashville hasn’t ever exactly been deep, deep South — it’s landlocked, there’s a kind of Ohioan blah to the winters here, there’s a permacloud that never moves much in February. Boating under the influence arrests only happen on lakes here, and that feels like an important distinction from places with a coastal option like Alabama, Mississippi, and Georgia. The superstation in Nashville for you isn’t TBS — it’s WGN out of Chicago. Listen to Johnny Cash’s “One Piece at a Time” and you’ll remember that people from here have followed the auto industry back and forth. There’s a lot of country in Middle Tennessee, but squint when you’re downtown and you’ll see a little bit of Cincinnati, too.

It will be Midwestern-compatible in another sense: For some reason, hockey catches fire here. This will happen long before the Predators make the Stanley Cup Finals, and pretty much on arrival in 1998 when they play their first season here. The backbone of the fanbase will have a core of Detroit Red Wings fans. That’s good DNA to start with, you’ll note, a really useful cheat code to have when trying to anchor a winter sport on the northern fringe of the Sun Belt in a medium-sized market where football rules over all. All those kids you go to high school with who miss Michigan, and winter, and hockey? They adapt with a quickness, and start throwing catfish instead of octopi on the ice.

You’ll see people in camp chairs posted up on Broadway on a humid, warm summer night and realize how ripe this place was for this. Along with Birmingham, Nashville is one of the two places in the South where people would watch two drops of rain race down a windowpane if you put it on television. You’ll also see how the Predators’ dedication to making everything as unserious as possible worked in a college sports town with a healthy respect for stagecraft. The mascot will jump from the rafters; The crowd will theatrically thank arena announcer Paul McCann when he notifies them that there is one minute left in each period. For the playoffs the big surprise will be running out a different country singer for each national anthem, saving the pocket ace of Faith Hill for the last home game of the year.

You’ll note that, in its own very country music kind of way, that was a flex. Hell, they even just had an extra Luke Bryan hanging around, and put him on top of Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge to play a pregame concert. You’ll probably think that took some intense planning, but it didn’t: The idea was hatched on Thursday by the Predators, approved on Friday by the city, and on Sunday night big ol’ doofy Luke Bryan was standing three stories over a packed Broadway and singing.

By the way, a Luke Bryan is a country singer. It’s a confusing thing, but in 2017 most male country singers now look like scholarship golfers. The future is terrifying in many ways, and this is one of them.

You’ll also have no idea what he was singing about, because this isn’t for you, and never has been. You’ll also pay zero attention because every Luke Bryan song is the same pop-country mad-lib about trucks, cold ones, that girl, etc. You’ll be okay with this, both because there are way more harmful things in this world than redneck fantasy music that really doesn’t hurt anyone, and also because you’ll have long since realized there are other places where you’re supposed to be. That’s how adulthood works. Pieces are sorted randomly and settle largely where they are supposed to be, and you’re a piece that sorted its way into a place you belong.

You’ll also see all the pieces that are supposed to be here: Guys in realtree camo hats. Guys in bad fedoras. Guys in fishing shirts and Under Armour gear, and especially the guy in the shirt that says “I’ll have what the guy on the floor had” who bumps drunkenly into you sideways on Broadway, listing with a vape pen in his hand. (Vaping is just smoking with expensive accessories. People LOVE it.) You’ll see the guys in Predators shirts with twin hockey sticks and women in boots and Preds jerseys and flimsy rompers, and the dads in Dri-FIT shirts desperately trying to remember where their car is while holding the hands of overwhelmed kids who’ve never wandered through a crowd this big.

You’ll see them throw the catfish, and think how it’s something beyond a joke. A catfish is a bottom-feeding trash fish, the countriest of all country-ass fishes. A catfish is the opposite of glamour, the accident you catch while fishing for other things. You’ll see them throw it and think about the Cumberland river, and how your grandfather would show you the sign he took off a building in downtown showing the high-water mark from a flood there. He kept it propped up against something in his garden, and it said the water got up to 34 feet over First Avenue. A catfish could have swam through the second floor of an office. You’ll like to think one did.

You’ll see Nashville at full flood over a hockey team and think about how in all that not-belonging you’ll see a catfish and feel your own rush of belonging. It won’t last long, but it’ll be there, swimming through the undercurrent, an ugly, amiable fish with ancient DNA that can come through the window at any moment. You’ll see Nashville turn out 50,000 people on Broadway for a hockey team. Even if it isn’t for you, there won’t be anything lukewarm about it. You’d think otherwise, but you would be wrong about that, too.

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