#if i crashed it would be into the english countryside which i think is even worse than the wilderness

[wr4thofthelambs]

listening to the yjs soundtrack whilst on a plane is not for the weak… 😭

[sissytobitch10seconds]

A Peculiar Flock of Crows: Leaving the Roost

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone (Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children fusion) Summary: The Blitz and the war have uprooted a lot of people from their homes. Most children were supposed to be sent to the safety of the English countryside, but with all the havoc rushing around them it's a half given that some would slip through the cracks. Warnings: Mentions of parental death, mentions of pedophilia, and attempted child murder Word Count: 7,544 Ship(s): Kaz Brekker & Jesper Fahey & Nina Zenik

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A/N: We have another fusion series! I've done this for Umbrella Academy before but I honestly think that the Crows fit so well into this universe. Let me know what you guys think, I'm very excited to hear it! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

The anger had being forced out of his own city was going to eat Kaz Brekker alive.

He stood on the platform for the train for longer than he should have with his dark coffee eyes trying to bore a hole in the city that he had grown so fond of. London was not the place that he was born, he had never even expected to see somewhere that size. He had found a new family after losing the only person that he had always expected to be by his side. He had built up an empire before he had even hit the legal age of adulthood. 

Now it was all coming crashing down around him because some fascist in another country had been given too much power. The Blitz had already taken out most of the rooftops of the places in the West End, places that Kaz had distinct memories of learning the secrets of. He wasn’t sure what place he was going to be returning to when he finally got the okay from his employer to return to the city that had birthed the new person that he was today.

He had loathed his age many times over, but this was the one time that he actually wanted to bite it out of his being. He was sixteen, which meant that he was too young to fight in the war (regardless of his disability) and instead had to stay back to be shipped off to the countryside with a number of other children because his employer was functionally his new guardian. Kaz was not a child, he wanted a chance to sink his talons into the people that had destroyed the one chance at happiness that he had built up brick by singular brick.

“Come on, boy, we don’t have any more time,” the man that was supposed to be escorting that wave of children growled. Kaz had already had his tag checked so that they knew who he was and that he should have boarded the train so that there was more room for the other kids that were traveling to their new homes. He had wanted just a moment to look at the place that he was being so forcefully removed from and was becoming more irate by the second at the idea of being forced away from it.

He turned so that he could face the man speaking to him before he had the chance to grab at the teenager. He was tall, with a ruddy face and graying red hair neatly combed back to compliment his beard. He was wearing a pair of heavy, dark sunglasses over his eyes despite it being overcast. Kaz hadn’t touched the man with his bare hands, which was usually what it took for him to understand something in and out, but there was a creeping feeling in the back of his spine that told him that something was very, very wrong. It was more than just a superstition or stress from the changes in his life, it was like his very soul was screaming at him to get away.

“Leave me be, why don’t you?” he snarled, his teeth snapping and dangerous as he stalked to the only open train compartment that he could find. The others were full of blubbering children, soldiers, or other adults that Kaz had no intention of striking up a conversation with.

He flopped down onto the seat and then stretched his bad leg out so that it was resting on the seat across from him. He was glad that he had been put on one of the trains with private compartments, even if he wanted to be one of the soldiers or staying in his city instead of a minor ward of the state. He knew that it was unrealistic to think of fighting in the war when he couldn’t even stand on his own, but he was sure that he would make a good spy or even a code breaker like they let girls be when they joined in the effort.

He was only alone for a couple minutes longer before the door opened and the same man that had tried to touch him outside entered. Kaz shoved the leather of his gloves more securely around his wrist so that he wouldn’t accidentally touch anything if the man were to accost him again. It wasn’t like he had a seizure when he touched someone, but knowing the insides of a person sometimes felt so overwhelming that it made him puke. He didn’t feel like doing that in his new train car.

“Can I help you?” he rasped. His voice had been damaged from when he had gotten sick with whatever he and Jordie caught from the docks. He spoke deeper than most kids his age and thought that would have saved him from the very fate that was befalling him now, but he was betrayed by his own gang leader.

“I’m just coming to make sure you’re okay, boy, no need to be so rough,” the man replied. His Scottish accent was about as thick as they came with the words still being clear. It had likely been unintelligible before he had moved to London or worked in England.

“Well I’m fine, so you can leave,” he snarled. He shifted his cane so that it was grasped in one of his gloved hands and his leg was off the seat, despite the pain that was causing him.

“I don’t think that I will, just because you said that,” he replied as he sat down. The train lurched forward as they began to pull out of the city that Kaz had built himself a home in. They were heading to countrysides that would be unknown and yet more known than anything else to Kaz, and that was part of the reason that he was so upset.  He hadn’t been back out to the farm country since he had walked into London for the first time. Jordie had been too sick to bring them back to the little village that they knew and missed by the time that Kaz managed to pull the strength out of himself to ask to go back.

He stayed silent for a while longer before the man spoke again, which forced his attention back to his direction. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Why would I tell you that? I don’t even know who you are,” Kaz snapped in reply. He wasn’t stupid even if he looked like he could still be wet behind the ears. The only reason that he hadn’t scrubbed that appearance from his skin entirely was because he could still use it to his advantage. Tourists passing through the shops along the busiest streets of London paid no attention to a boy that looked like their nephew or sons, and thus didn’t feel the need to keep their wallets and purses as close to themselves when he was passing by.

“My name is Jacob Hertzoon. I work with the social services department, which is why I’m helping all you kids get safely out to the country,” he explained.

Kaz barely believed him. That cool rush of water was still dripping down his spine. It was letting him know that something was wrong, just as it had when Jordie first started coughing. When he glanced back to Jacob, he noticed that the dark sunglasses he had been wearing on the platform were still firmly planted on the bridge of his nose.

“The name is Kaz. You can leave me be now, I promise that I won’t jump out of the moving train window. I’m not stupid,” he spat. If he was rude and abrupt enough he knew that he would be left alone, which was exactly what he wanted. He didn’t want to keep feeling like he was moments away from drowning when he already had to wade through his massively complicated feelings.

“I think that I’ll stay right here, boy,” Jacob replied. The darkness in his voice made Kaz sit up straight and grasp the head of his cane even tighter than he had before. It didn’t sound like something he wanted to deal with, not when he was supposed to be sent away for a mandatory relaxing vacation in the middle of a world war. Whoever that man was, he was dangerous.

He turned his head and stared out of the window for the duration of the journey. He absolutely refused to turn and look back at the man on the other seat. He was half worried that if he did, then it would end with him being consumed like the knights in the fairytales his mother had told him before she had gotten sick. He knew that it was ridiculous, that if he was really in danger then he wouldn’t be hurt until they got to the last stop. There were too many people around them for the man to murder him while they were on the train.

He ignored the questions that were asked of him throughout the journey as well, keeping his head stubbornly turned towards the window. The train slowed to a crawl as they began to approach the station and Kaz rose, “I’m using the bathroom. If you follow me, I’ll tell everyone that you’re a pedophile.”

The man didn’t reply to that, which made Kaz half think that he had learned something about being belligerently quiet to avoid getting information stolen. It worked in his favor, though, because he was able to slip from the train car. He was aware that they had not stopped in the town that he was meant to go to. While he had never been out of London, he did remember the train ride that they had taken from the edge of Wales to the city. The town that they had stopped in was barely even a break on the rolling farmland, nothing like massive web of chaos that he had come from or the tidily bustling town he had been born in.

He had said something about how similar it was to the place that he had grown up when he and Jordie had seen it. He didn’t really want that to be his final landing place until the war had finally ended. A larger part of him refused to go back to the train compartment with Jacob Hertzoon, though. The last time that he had gotten that feeling and then refused to listen to it, his brother had taken the job that had resulted in him dying.

Kaz was going to get off and he was going to find his way to safety. It wasn’t that hard for him to slip his glove off and press his fingers to the door. He understood the lock with a sudden rush of information into his mind and then was able to kneel down to pick it. He was grateful for the sleight of hand that he had learned from the last time that he had purposefully touched someone, it meant that it was possible for him to pick the lock while the train was still slowly rocking to a halt. By the time it had all but stopped, the door swung open and he jumped down with his cane acting as his proper leg onto the gravel next to the tracks.

He righted himself and tugged his leather glove back over his hand as he walked away from the train like he hadn’t just escaped what might have led to his death or even more pain. People didn’t look at him because he knew what he was doing, even though the train picked up and kept moving not long after it had stopped.

Many of the roads in the small town led out to farms that were dotted across the countryside. Kaz wasn’t fond of the memories that were going to crop up because of it, but a hayloft was a better place than none to bed down for the night.

---

Jesper Fahey had been waking up with the sun for as long as he could remember. It came with the territory of being a farm boy, but he also could never stop moving. As soon as his brain began to push away the dreams from the night, his body would begin twitching and he just had to wake up. He remembered that his mother was much the same way, which always made him feel slightly wistful in the mornings.

He rose early that day, but stayed laying in the bed as he adjusted to the warmth of the body next to him. A lot of his life had changed since beginning of the war, the biggest thing being the young girl that they had taken in. A lot of the houses around them were taking in children from the city, but theirs was different.

“Nina, wake up,” he whispered as he rolled over and poked at her side.

Nina Zenik was a beautiful girl, even if Jesper didn’t exactly see her that way. She had a plump body and perfect sun-kissed skin. Freckles dotted over the perfect round shape of her face and brought out the vivid green of her eyes. Her hair was currently haloed around her in a brown spiral, the curls taking over the pillows that they were supposed to be sharing.

She whined and rolled away from the offending digit, holding onto her side. “Jesper, if something bad isn’t happening and you just woke me up for nothing I’m going to kill you,” she groused.

“Nothing bad is happening, but I woke you up so that we could have some time together without Da watching us like we’re going to be kidnapped at any second,” Jesper replied a bit sourly. He loved his father more than most teenagers loved their parents, but he was beginning to feel suffocated by his worries. He understood that they were experiencing unprecedented times because of the war and what was going on in his mother’s world, but it was too much for him to bear.

One of her green eyes peeled open to stare at him. “Do you mean…?” she trailed off, like she was scared that if she said it out loud then it would summon Colm to their little room.

The cabin was small, which meant that it was likely that Colm could hear them talking. They had a dining and living area in the same room, a comfortable space where they could take their evenings quietly. There was an upper half-floor in the attic where Jesper and Nina slept in a bed that was actually two small mattresses pushed together so that they could cuddle. The other things downstairs were the kitchen and the bedroom that Jesper’s parents had slept in.

“I do mean,” he nodded. Despite the cold leaching in from the bitter autumnal morning, Jesper threw the blankets off of his body and then rose to his feet. “You promised when you first showed up that you would help me and today is the day!”

“I thought that we were going to have to do more farmwork,” Nina stretched her arms high above her head and flexed her back.

“Da and I finished getting everything set up for next year yesterday, remember? That’s why you and I got to share the last slice of pie,” he answered as he kicked the bed.

The motion was enough to get his friend to finally rouse from her sleeping position on the floor. She rolled slowly from the bed and then stood at attention next to her friend. They both grinned before they began their daily race to get dressed as quickly as they could.

Jesper dressed as he always did, with a striped white and blue shirt held up by black suspenders and brown cuffed pants. Nina was dressed without trousers that day since she didn’t have to help them in the surrounding fields. Instead, she was wearing a pretty red dress that was form fit to her body. She looked every bit the type of girl that should be going to school in the city instead of hiding from monsters at a farm she had never seen before.

“Are you ready?” he asked when she finished running the brush through her beautiful ringlets.

“Are we going to get breakfast first?” she replied as she began to head for the stairs.

“Of course we are, I’m not a lunatic,” he snorted. They pushed and shoved at each other as quietly as they could while they headed down the stairs. They had to make sure that they didn’t wake Colm so that he wouldn’t walk in on them when they were in the barn doing things that he had expressly forbade them from doing.

When they got to the kitchen, Nina darted for the leftover pastries that they had been slowly biting bits off of from the festival the other night. There was only one serving left, which meant that one of them was going to get it and the other was going to have to eat bread with jam on it. Neither of them were willing to wait while the stove heated or risk Colm hearing the snap of the logs in the fire.

Jesper lurched towards the counter and then snatched the items before Nina’s delicate fingers were able to wrap around it. “Ha!” he leered as he took a bit out of the corner of the scone. His mouth was flooded with the taste of orange and white chocolate. He wished that they could relive the day of the festival over and over if it meant that he got to eat such delicacies until his belly hurt.

“You suck,” Nina groused as she turned towards the breadbox instead. Jesper knew that she didn’t really mean it, she was happy to have become quick friends with him and she loved eating no matter what it was.

They were both eating their breakfasts as they left the house down the back porch, which was less likely to wake Colm because the wall of the kitchen was in between them and his bedroom. Jesper handed Nina about half of the scone and got half her piece of bread in thanks for it. 

He had always been isolated from other people his age, for as long as he could remember. His parents had never conceived another child after him and he had lived too far away from any other families that had children his age to have playmates. He hadn’t minded it when his mother was around because she made sure to include him everything that she did, no matter how boring other adults would assume that he found it. After she had died and his father had to do work that Jesper physically wasn’t old enough to do, he had found the intense loneliness almost drowning him.

Then Nina had come to their home and he finally knew what it was like to be someone’s friend. He was sure that if he had known other people well before her, they wouldn’t have grown as close as they had. He was almost glad for his isolation since it meant that he was more comfortable putting his everything into Nina. He liked sharing sweet things with her, working with her so that their chores were more fun, and sleeping beside her. He couldn’t imagine having anyone else in the place of his best friend.

They walked through the short yard and over to the barn. “Did your da leave the door open last night?” Nina asked around her thumb. She was holding her scone in her other hand so that she could savor it after the less flavorful option had been consumed. 

“I don’t think that he would have,” Jesper shook his head. “He’s never done it before. Maybe it blew open in the wind?”

“It’s not like Colm wasn’t exhausted yesterday, maybe he was just too tired to yank it all the way closed.”

“The doors aren’t that heavy, Nina,” he rolled his eyes. He grabbed the handle of the barn door and then yanked it open with a single, fluid movement. As soon as he and Nina were on the other side of the threshold, he yanked it shut and then swung the little latch into place. The windows had been opened so that they could continue to air out the straw that had recently been cut, which allowed the early morning sun to stream down onto the ground. If they had shut the windows, then they both would have been trapped in oppressive darkness.

“Finish your breakfast and then we can go up into the loft and practice,” Jesper mumbled as he stretched his long arms up above his head so that he could pop his shoulder.

Nina hummed as she took another bite of her breakfast. “What do you think I can practice with today?”

“What did we do last time?” he asked. Jesper could never sit still, to the point where Nina called it his fatal flaw. Even now, he was pacing around the barn while plucking at the bits of the wood that the chickens had peeled away the year before when they had been low on feed.

“We worked with me speeding up your heart, but I don’t really want you having another attack,” she explained.

“Maybe you could calm it down,” he shrugged.

“Or we could just get you to actually bend the metals,” Nina teased. Jesper flushed and then turned back to the wood, only to jump away from it when he noticed that it had taken on the shape of his fingers.

The girl beside him placed a hand on his arm to try and settle the nerves that she knew were rattling around inside of him. She had only spent a couple of months with the Faheys, but she had a natural gift for reading people and telling what was wrong with them. It was different than the Talent that she had, similar to the one that Jesper had and the one that his mother had, but a gift nonetheless. “You don’t have to be scared of it, Jes,” she whispered. The scone was gone, which allowed her to slip her slightly-sticky fingers through is own.

“It’s scary, though,” he shook his head. “I guess this is why we have to practice, right?”

“Right. And everything in the world is scary right now, there’s nothing that we can do to avoid that. But like your da says, there’s no point in worrying when you’re already doing everything that you can to protect yourself,” Nina said. He wondered how she managed to be so steadfast and strong even when their world was pushed into the void of confusion and chaos. It wasn’t that long ago that her entire life had been uprooted and she was forced to live with strangers, relying on luck alone that she didn’t have to conceal her identity.

Jesper leaned in and pecked her on the cheek like he would his mother or a sister he never got to have. He then let go of her hand so that he could yank himself up the ladder. The fear over what his own two hands could do was overwhelmed with the exciting rush that came with connecting to his mother through the gift that she had passed down to him. He wished that she had been able to stay for longer so that he could have learned more from her. He supposed that Nina was a good enough substitute since she had come from the same minor sector of the world that hid their people away.

Nina followed close behind him so that they were both standing on the sun-bleached boards of the hayloft. They walked over to the oldest bale of hay where they had hidden their practice chest. As soon as they got up there, they both paused and turned to look at each other. It was a way for them to confirm that what they were seeing was actually real and wasn’t a trick of the light. They had been through a lot together and seen some very strange things, their own talents included, but this was something that threw them both off.

In front of them, in the big haystack where their chest was hidden, was a boy. He looked to be about the same age as them based on the shape of his face and the height that he was laying down. He had skin that was so pale he could be mistaken for a vampire or a cloud. His dark black hair was sheered close to his head on the sides and left long and slicked back on the top of his head, like he had walked straight from the twenties in the Americas. He was dressed in a thick black winter coat that was covering a black button up shirt and a silver vest, accented by the black straight-legged pants and shined shoes. He had a walking stick clutched in his gloved hands, the head curling down into a crow’s skull.

“Is he dead?” Jesper whispered to Nina. His mind was whirling with a thousand thoughts and suddenly he was wishing that they hadn’t snuck away from his father so that they could get some help from him.

“I don’t think so,” Nina whispered. She held her hands out in front of her with her thumb holding down her pinky and ring finger. Her pointer and middle fingers crossed over each other as she locked her elbows. It was a stance that Jesper had only seen once or twice before, but what happened afterwards was a big enough shock that it wasn’t easy to forget it. 

The boy on the floor jumped and his eyes shot open. He planted the cane down on the planks of the loft and then got to his feet with a single motion. “What do you want?” he snarled, his dark-coffee eyes bitter with something feral and alarming.

Despite the danger that they were facing with a stranger that might be associated to the people that had tried to kill them once before, Jesper couldn’t help but scoff. “What do we want?” he snarked. “You’re the one that decided to take a nap in my da’s barn.”

“You’re the farmer that owns this place?” the boy asked as he eyed them both warrily.

“Technically yes, but my da is the one with the name on the deed. Now what are you doing in here?” Jesper asked. He likely didn’t have to provide the extra bit of information, but he was nervous so his mouth was running on its own. Next to him, Nina slowly lowered her hands so that they were no longer crossed. She kept her fingers flexed, which would help her direct his power if the boy decided that he as going to try something on them. 

“I simply wanted a place to stay for the night. If you would move out of the way of the ladder then I can be on my way,” he said, gesturing with the base of his cane.

Nina and Jesper glanced at each other and then back to the boy. She spoke to him for the first time since she had woken him up, “Did you run away from the train?”

“What train?” he snapped.

“The train that brings all the kids out here to the countryside, away from the bombs,” Jesper supplied. He wasn’t speaking in a way that was demeaning or cruel, he had worked hard to make sure that his tone was level when he brought that up. The farm next to theirs had taken in a boy that had come from a bigger city on the coast that had been evacuated and had some very strong opinions about being removed from his home. 

“I don’t think that it’s any of your business,” the boy answered as he moved to dart around them.

“Hold still!” Nina shouted as her hands flew out in front of her. Jesper knew what she was doing, she had done the same thing to him when he and his father had found her traveling on the road, her face black and blue. She was reaching into the boy so that she could control the blood in his veins and make him stay where he was. “You’re going to have to give us some more proof of who you are so that we know you’re not a wight.”

“A what?” the boy spat. “I don’t know what the Hell you two are talking about or how you managed to stop me from moving, but you would do well to let me go. If you have to know what I’m doing in here then fine, I’ll tell you!”

“That’s quite literally what we wanted,” Nina snarked back at him. 

The boy childishly stuck his tongue out at her, which made him appear even younger than he had before. “I was put on the train by my foster father because he thought that I would do better away from the fighting and didn’t want anything to be too suspicious. However, I was accosted by a man that I didn’t want to be around. So I left. And now I need to leave again to make sure that he doesn’t find me.”

The other two teenagers glanced at each other to try and determine what they were going to do next. The world had become a far more dangerous place when the war had started, but for them it had already been risky to live at home. They were pushing their luck and their chances already, but it sounded like they were about to take the leap that Colm had been silently begging them not to since Nina had come to their farm.

“What did his eyes look like?” Nina asked.

Jesper took a step back towards the ladder so that he could get out and get his father in the off chance that something went wrong. Nina knew more about what she was talking about in this kind of situation anyway, so it was better to let her have the lead. While Jesper had been working with some of he bone buttons on his mother’s clothing, he hadn’t gotten the mastery of it that he would need to be able to wield bone without directly touching it yet. He was virtually unable to do anything to control the boy they had found, while Nina was able to reach into the body of anyone and control them with a single thought.

“I wasn’t able to see his eyes, he was wearing dark glasses. Fucker was looked so stupid that he actually wore them when he came into the train too,” the boy sneered.

Both of the other teenagers went rigid when they heard him say that. Jesper had never seen a wight in person, but Nina had taught him how to spot them when they were last out on the town. “I think that you should come into the house and have some breakfast with us. We have some more things that we need to talk to you about.”

“Only if your friend there stops grabbing at me with her mind,” the boy replied bitterly.

“I make no promises. You could be a wightling,” she snarled at him. Nina dropped the stance that her hands had been in and then climbed over to the ladder. She got down on the base level of the barn and left the two boys alone. Jesper wasn’t prepared to just plunge right into the unknown while leaving a stranger with all the crops from his farm, so motioned for the new member of their little group to go first.

Soon, all three of them were down at the bottom. They filed back to the house in silence and then sat at the little four-person table in the Fahey family’s dining room. Jesper was running his fingers over the little divots in front of his spot where he had first begun to practice his ability to warp wood. “My name is Jesper, by the way. That’s Nina.”

“Why would I care?” the boy asked.

“Figured that if we were going to be chatting with you for a while then you might like to know our names,” he replied with a small shrug.

The boy went quiet for a bit before he finally said, “Kaz.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kaz,” Nina said. She had obviously collected herself in the couple of seconds that she had gotten on her own while they were coming back to the house. Her diplomatically soft voice had returned, though the fire burning in her green eyes was still alight. “Can you do anything strange?”

“What on earth is that supposed to mean?” Kaz asked as he looked at her, though his brows continued to be furrowed even when the surprised look melted from his features.

“You know, things that other people can’t do,” Jesper replied. He picked up the fork that had been left on the table from when they were doing dishes the night before. He pressed his thumb to the space just underneath where the metal widened and then ran it down the entire base. As he went, the metal creaked and bent so that it was out in a perfect half moon. “Something like that,” he explained as he set the temporarily ruined piece down on the table.

“Right,” Kaz frowned.

“It can also be something physically different with you,” Nina suggested.

“Like what?” Kaz asked, his hands tightening on the head of his cane.

“Cloven hooves, a back mouth, extra eyes on your thumbs, another set of fully functional legs,” she rambled them all off at once.

“I don’t understand why you two are asking me this,” Kaz bit out.

Jesper couldn’t help it. He knew that the situation was serious and they could be in danger, they could even be putting his da and the surrounding farms in danger, but he laughed. “Seeing as you didn’t run away screaming when I bent a fork using nothing but my fingers, I think that you have some idea.”

“The metal in the fork could have been tin or some other illusion,” Kaz replied. He reached out and picked up the fork so that he could repeat the motion but in reverse. Nothing happened.

“You can hand me something of yours and I’ll do the exact same thing to it,” Jesper shrugged. “I haven’t met anyone other than my ma who could do that, so I don’t think that they’ve come up with magic tricks catered specifically to people like us.”

Nina had obviously been growing more and more frustrated with the boys arguing so she suddenly snapped, “We’re asking if you’re peculiar. I’ve already been driven from my loop and I don’t fancy having to go on the run again if you’ve managed to bring a wight to our front garden!”

“I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” Kaz snarled. “Of course I’m able to do something that no one else can do. I became the leader of the best gang in London when I was fourteen and I can undo any lock just by touching it to know how it works. I don’t know what a peculiar is, what a loop is, or what a bloody fucking wight is, but I would appreciate it if you let me be on my way!”

The door on the other side of the house slammed closed like someone hadn’t been there to guide it into the frame. It happened a lot, since their house was slowly tilting as the ground underneath it settled. This time, it told the other two occupants that the only adult had risen. They all went dreadfully quiet, like they were waiting for the bombs that plagued the cities and coasts.

Jesper slowly turned his head to the side and saw that his father was standing in the doorway. He was still wearing the clothing that he slept in, a pair of loose linen pants and a paint-stained tanktop. He looked towards Jesper, then to Nina, and then finally settled on Kaz. He was quiet for a while longer before he asked, “What have you children done?”

“Da, I promise that this isn’t as bad as it seems,” Jesper said quickly. He stood up so that he could approach his father on a more level field. He was terrified of what the other man was going to do now that their secret had been discovered in that way. He knew that his father loved him and that he was a very rational person, but there was a good chance that he would send Nina away if he thought that she was too much of a danger to them.

“I think that it actually is, Jes,” Nina replied around her hand. She was covering her elegantly curved lips with the tips of her fingers as her chin rested in her palm. It was what she did and what she had always done when she was stressed.

The other peculiar turned around and shot her a withering glare before he took Colm’s hand and then led him towards the table, “Come and talk to us about this, Da. We can explain everything, I promise.”

“What’s going on, Jes?” Colm asked, his eyes still locked on the new teenager seated at his table. He fell down into the seat that Jesper had been in before, his calloused hands brushing over the mark in the table. 

Jesper tried not to think about all of the other times that he had seen his father brush over that mark. They both used it as a way to connect to Aditi after her death, but neither of them ever said anything about her. He collapsed down into the seat across from his father and then started talking, “I know that you said that Nina and I aren’t supposed to practice, but we thought that it would be a good idea for us to just get a little bit of training in case someone came to hurt us or take us. But when we got up into the hayloft we found him, and now we think that he’s peculiar too.”

He tried not to take the wince that Colm gave upon hearing the name of what his son and wife were to heart. He knew that it was hard for his father to accept that he loved two people that had an opening to a world he could never enter into. It was the one thing that Jesper connected to Aditi with that Colm could never really understand, which had caused a lot of strife between the two of them.

“What were you doing in the hayloft?” Colm asked as he turned to Kaz instead of addressing what his son had just said.

“I was sleeping. I didn’t want to go to the town that I was sent to by my foster father,” Kaz replied. He was giving Colm a slightly different answer than he had given Jesper and Nina, but neither of them could really fault him for it given the situation that they were also currently wading through.

“And why is that?”

“There was a man on the train that had taken a particularly nasty interest in me, I think that my ability was telling me that it was a bad situation to be in,” he answered. He looked uncomfortable at mentioning his ability, but it was a shocking thing to realize about something that had been considered normal in one’s mind. Jesper knew that firsthand.

“Nina?” Colm asked. He was always able to tell when one of his wards was brimming with something that they wouldn’t be quiet about until they got it out of their systems.

The girl in question startled slightly before she looked guiltily down at the fine woodgrain of the table. “I’m not sure that it’s safe for us to stay here. I think that it would be a good idea for us to go out and try to find a loop to stay in, where the wights and hollows can’t go.”

The only adult in the room looked like the weight of the world had just been dropped down onto his shoulders. Jesper knew that they both trusted Nina’s sense about the world of the peculiars since neither of them had been particularly deep in it, and she had, but he wished that she hadn’t said that. They had been fine pushing their luck without finding a loop or a ymbryne for that long, he was sure that a while longer would be fine. He wasn’t ready to force his father to lose him while the war was happening, not after he had already lost his wife. 

Colm closed his eyes and took in several deep breaths to steady himself before he asked, “Do you think that you could find Ms. Eagle again?”

Nina shook her head, brown ringlets bouncing around her freckled face. “Ms. Eagle’s loop was based in Russia. It’s very unlikely that we would be able to get back to there, even through loop jumping. The only reason that I ended up back in the UK was because of the transport scheme that Kirigan was doing to so many of us.”

It surprised Jesper that she was actually talking about that. She had admitted that she was peculiar the second night after she had come to stay with them, but she very rarely spoke about her previous experiences with the peculiar world. She told them what her ymbryne’s name was, what her ability was, and very briefly spoke about some of the others she had known. They knew that she had a loop, but not why she wasn’t in it currently.

“What do you think the best course of action is, then?” Jesper asked. He folded his arms over his chest to try and protect what felt like his bleeding heart from the threat of being separated from his father and the only home that he had ever known. He had always wanted to explore the world at large, but there was something scary about breaching into an unknown land with unknown rules. 

Nina worried her lip between her teeth for a moment before she said, “I don’t think it’s safe for us to stay here anymore. If we were, then we would have to make sure to never use our abilities so that the hollowgasts could never figure out where we are. I don’t think that Kaz’s is something that he can turn off, and I don’t even think about using mine anymore. Jes has too many accidents for us to count on him either.”

“Thanks,” he groused, though it was mostly just to make himself feel better.

“Sorry, love, but you know that I’m right,” Nina shrugged as she gave his hand a comforting squeeze. He did know, though it was kind of shameful to admit that he couldn’t control something that was inherent to his being. “It would be best if we could find another loop or somehow found another way to contact the ymbryne council.”

“I don’t want to hide anywhere when there’s a war going on,” Kaz shook his head. “Those fascist fuckers forced me out of the city that I built and I’m not going to let them tell me what I can do if I can help it in the slightest.”

Nina looked him over for a moment before she gave a nod of understanding. “If we manage to reach out to a loop and get in contact with their ymbryne, then we can get a fighting license from the council. They’ll give us training on our abilities and make even teams so that we can fight back against the wights. They’re the real reason that you were sent from your home, I can promise you that.”

“So we’re really leaving?” Jesper asked, sparing a glance at his father.

Colm nodded in understanding. He had his hands crossed in a very similar way to Jesper and his face was sullen with the gravity of the situation. “One night can’t hurt. You three can bed down here and then in the morning, you can head out before the dawn. That way no one can see you and you’ll have a head start to the wight that was harassing Kaz. I’ll head to town today while you all get to know each other. You don’t want to be traveling and fighting with people that you don’t really know, after all.”

The scraping of the chair against the floor filled the house, and then the steps of the man heading towards the door. Jesper barely even thought about the fact that his father hadn’t had any breakfast before he had left. He was too focused on the fact that he was going to be leaving his home, the only place that he had ever known, the halls that were haunted with images of his mother. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time, somehow.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

a little unconventional (part one)

[foster au]

this is set in America because i don't know how Romania works

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

rapture rising

“Alcina, my beloved sister, are you sure all of this is necessary?”

Alcina shot a glare over her shoulder at her toddling younger brother, who she was making carry in several boxes full of various items into one of the many rooms in her mansion. This one wasn’t one of the bedrooms, but rather a temporary storage room for all the things she had recently bought. She was going to have everything set up for the children to choose from when they eventually arrived. Just thinking about them getting to pick out their bedsheets and paint for their new rooms made a smile come to her lips, excitement rushing through her like dozens of butterflies flying for the first time.

…And then her idiot brother bumped into the doorframe and caused an avalanche of boxes to come down on top of him.

“Be careful!” Alcina barked, whirling around to him. She bent down to start picking the boxes up. “You’re lucky there was nothing fragile in here.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Heisenberg grunted, rubbing his head.

“And to answer your questions, dearest brother, yes, this is all very necessary,” Alcina said. “I need this to be perfect for them. This may be the first time those little girls get a real home.”

“Inflating your ego, aren’t you?”

Alcina stepped on his foot.

“I have the paints.” Moreau, Alcina’s other brother, shuffled inside, holding several cans of paint on his arms. If they were hurting him, he didn’t say anything. He seemed pleased with himself for being so useful.

“Thank you, Sal,” Alcina said. She took the cans from him and placed them against the wall. “Yellow, green, red, blue, pink, purple… Do you think that’s enough? What if they want, like, a mauve room?”

“Mauve?” Heisenberg echoed as he was crow hopping on one foot, still recovering from being stomped on.

“It’s a shade of purple,” Moreau supplied.

“I know what mauve is, asshole,” Heisenberg hissed. “I was just saying.”

“And I’m just saying, what if they want a lighter-colored room?” Alcina said. “This purple is dark. Should I go buy more?”

“You could mix white into the paint?” Moreau suggested.

Alcina thought it over, then nodded. “Yes, I could do that. Good idea.”

“Who wants a mauve bedroom, anyway?” Heisenberg muttered.

“Alcina!” A fourth voice echoed throughout the house, and Alcina’s sister entered the room. Donna looked uncharacteristically bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She was clutching something in her hands. “Alcina, I have finished them!”

“When did you get here?” Heisenberg looked at her.

“Just now,” Donna said. “It doesn’t matter. Look!”

A beautiful doll was presented to Alcina. It was hand-stitched and dressed with great care. All the little details, down to the freckles and shiny eyes, were incredibly-made, and Alcina couldn’t help but pick it up tentatively, as though she were afraid of accidentally destroying it.

“Oh, Donna,” she said. “It’s beautiful! Thank you.”

Donna beamed. “I have also made stuffed animals and toy clothes for them. An entire wardrobe, in fact. Many selections.”

“Damn,” Heisenberg looked impressed. “Toys dress better than I do.”

“We know,” the other three said in sync, eyeing his ratty trenchcoat and old cowboy hat that he insisted on wearing everywhere.

“You weren’t supposed to agree!” Heisenberg barked like one of his dogs.

“Shouldn’t have said anything,” Alcina shrugged daintily. She looked back at Donna and smiled. “Thank you, Donna. I really appreciate your support. I appreciate all of your support. Even yours, Karl.”

“Sure, sure…” Heisenberg said, though Alcina didn’t miss the glint of fondness in his eyes.

“This is so exciting,” Donna said. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, Alcina. Do you remember when we were all adopted by Mother?”

Heisenberg snorted. “I remember being kidnapped as a child and held for ransom, and then being one of the abduction victims to be actually found alive, only to discover that my parents had been killed while trying to get me back, to which I was then thrown into a home with you three.”

Donna winced. “Not…quite what I had in mind.”

“And you say ‘you three’ like we weren’t your best friends growing up,” Moreau pointed out idly, not looking at Heisenberg as he was helping unload some of the boxes. That one in particular held a wide selection of different bed sheets, ranging from leopard print to floral to plain blue.

Heisenberg raised his nose and huffed. “Well. Still.”

Alcina shook her head with a warm smile.

She vividly remembered life with her adoptive mother, Miranda, and her three other siblings. She was reborn from ash and flame after her old family estate burned down to the ground, smoldering the life she used to have and taking her parents with it. Yes, she could still smell the smoke, taste the embers on her tongue, even now, thirty-five years later. She was so small back then, only nine years old when the fire started, and she watched her home crumble to pieces right before her teary eyes. She thought it was over, that she had nothing, that she was going to be alone forever without her mother and father, but then a woman in a black cowl whisked her up into tender arms and took her under her wing as though she were the chicken to a nurturing mother bird.

She was the first of Miranda’s ragtag rascal children with harsh upbringings. For two years, it was just the both of them, reading books and watching movies in a beautiful countryside manor that quickly became her new home. Though the wounds had still been raw, the burns were very fresh, Miranda filled the void in her heart that her parents’ death left behind, extinguishing that eternal fire of survivor guilt and mourning.

And then the others came along.

At the time, Alcina had been rather indignant at the idea of having siblings. She was an only child with her birth family and she preferred to stay an only child with her new one, too, but she never voiced this opinion to Miranda. She grinned and bore it, even if it meant losing the attention of her mother.

Though, they didn’t end up being that bad…

The first of the “intruders” as she used to call them was Salvatore Moreau, a boy her age, though three months younger, and with a story similar to her own. He had been in a car crash after his drunken father got into a pretty nasty collision. The engine caught fire and it wasn’t long until the rest of the car followed. Moreau was trapped in the inferno, but managed to get out, running towards a nearby lake to extinguish the flames that were trying to make him its newest pyre. Unfortunately, the event left him badly burned, the scar still lingering all these years later, and nobody wanted to take in such a “disfigured child.” Miranda, however, stepped up to the challenge and fostered the boy, eventually adopting him fully later on.

Alcina was, admittedly, rather uneased by her new brother’s appearance at first, but she quickly got accustomed to him, even protective. There were several moments in school where she verbally (and sometimes even physically) pummeled any kids who dared to make fun of him, drilling into the bullies that he was not to be messed with while she was around. Some of her best retributions were when she threatened to leak unwarranted dick pics to the entire school, as it wasn’t uncommon for horny teenage boys to try to get into her pants, and that always shut them up quickly, especially when she loudly proclaimed details on their pathetic excuse for a penis, like the size and shape.

She and Moreau grew close rather quickly, much quicker than Miranda had been expecting. They both enjoyed more mellow things, like reading books and going on walks through the forest. Moreau was the sole reason she passed any English assignments done on Shakespearean literature, as he actually knew how to discern the confusing text, while she had to reread the same page over and over again to simply get a loose grasp on the grammar. He enjoyed cheesy romcoms, birdwatching, and swimming, the last of which he had a strong affinity for because of how the lake beside the car wreck very well could have been the only reason he survived. Now, he owned that very lake and made it into a popular fishing and boating destination for locals and tourists alike.

The second to arrive was Donna Beneviento, when Alcina and Moreau were both twelve. She was a full five years younger than the two of them and didn’t talk very often, at least for a good chunk of the first year she was there. She was put into the foster program after her parents commit suicide, leaving her with nothing but anxiety, trauma-induced selective muteness, and a doll named Angie.

It took time, but Donna eventually started opening up. First to Miranda, and then to Alcina and Moreau. Alcina strongly remembered a time when her little sister came to her room during a thunderstorm, lips quivering, tears glistening in her eyes, Angie clutched in a vice from her thin arms. She didn’t say anything, just stared from the doorway, whimpering and shivering.

“Alright,” Alcina had sighed. She flipped open her comforter, welcoming Donna. “Come on.”

Donna had brightened and skittered into the bed, snuggling right up against Alcina’s side. Alcina didn’t mind and resumed the book she had been reading before--Animal Farm, she believed. Donna pointed at the pages and then looked up at her curiously.

“Oh, this?” Alcina had said. “It’s called Animal Farm. It’s about these talking farm animals overthrowing their farmer to gain freedom, only to then be ruled by a communist pig.”

Donna blinked. “What’s a communist?”

“Well, you see…”

Her late-night explanation was certainly aided by the fact that they were in the middle of the Cold War at the time.

Overtime, Donna slowly grew out of her shell. Though she was still soft-spoken and reserved, she was also very kind-hearted and incredibly creative, which she showed through paintings, arts and crafts, and doll making. She would make dolls out of anything she could find--wood, thread, clay--so it made sense when she eventually became a toymaker once she grew up.

Finally, there was Karl Heisenberg when Alcina and Moreau were thirteen and Donna was eight. Right from the start, he was a loud, spitfire ten-year-old that broke the serene silence that used to hang over Miranda’s estate. He caused a great amount of mischief and mayhem, though Alcina would later discover it was to hide the fact that he was deeply traumatized by what exactly had happened to make him a foster child.

Even now, so many years later, Alcina still didn’t know the full story. Miranda said it wasn’t her tale to share and Heisenberg simply didn’t like talking about it very much. But from what she did know, Heisenberg used to belong to an incredibly wealthy business owner that ruled over their company with an iron fist. Due to the harshness his parents inflicted on their employees, it caused the workers to revolt against the abuse. A certain group took this way too far and kidnapped Heisenberg, holding him for ransom so they could get better treatment and pay at their work. Something ended up happening during the time between Heisenberg being held hostage and his parents paying up, and it left his mother and father in a way that he could never bring himself to explain. She only got snippets of the brutality of their deaths through brief moments when he would come to after vicious nightmares, one of which she actually stepped in to stop when she heard him struggling one night.

“Their heads, Alci,” Heisenberg had gasped, clawing manically for a desperate grasp on her arms, his body jerking and spasming in terror as his nightmare was still releasing his small, twelve-year-old body. “Their heads-- their brains were--” And then he stopped and keeled into her chest, sobbing in a way Alcina had never seen him do before in the two years he was living with her before that moment. Despite her occasional vex towards the boy, he was still her little brother and she was still his big sister, so she had wrapped her arms around him and held him close while he trembled and cried.

She never did find out what Heisenberg meant by “their heads,” but she had a hunch. Still, she never asked.

Nowadays, Heisenberg ran his own factory, where he treated his employees the way his parents should have treated theirs, learning from their mistakes. He also fostered all different kinds of dog breeds until they found their forever homes and rescued the more ‘vicious’ ones, like pit bulls and rottweilers, all of which he treated like royalty.

A freakishly tall girl, a burned boy, a selective mute, and a dog lover… They certainly weren’t the epitome of the stereotypical nuclear family, but they were family through and through, if not by blood, then by bloodshed.

“Do you guys remember the time Karl tried to clean the dishwasher with Kool-Aid?” Donna reminisced with a giggle.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Heisenberg said.

“Absolutely not,” Donna grinned at him.

“I still don’t know how you came to the conclusion that that would work,” Alcina shook her head.

Heisenberg threw his arms up into the air. “John said it did!”

“John also tried to steal a school urinal.”

“Also, you’re supposed to take all of the dishes out before you try to clean it with Kool-Aid,” Moreau spoke up. “You left all of the pots and plates and silverware in it.”

“And he didn’t even put it in the right spot!” Alcina joined, cackling. “You’re supposed to put the powder in the detergent dispenser. Karl, you just poured it out all over the dishes!”

“It wasn’t even the right powder,” Donna put in. “You’re supposed to strictly use unsweetened lemonade only. You used tropical punch!”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all burst into laughter, while Heisenberg crossed his arms and glared at them.

“John never specified any of that!” he blustered.

“Never trust John, dear,” Alcina tittered.

“Well, it happened!” Heisenberg said. “It’s over! What other boxes do you need to move!”

More laughter.

“I’m serious! I’ll get the boxes! Also WHAT IS THAT.”

They all turned to see a patchy tortoiseshell cat lazily strolling into the room with them. It looked like it had been run over, dismembered, run over again, and then put back together by a blind surgeon, but it held itself like it was the most pristine lion to ever walk the earth. It glanced over at the four siblings, meowed at them, then continued on its stroll to one of the empty boxes, which it jumped into and made itself comfortable inside.

“It’s a cat,” Donna said as if it should have been obvious, earning a snort from Moreau and then a glare from Heisenberg.

“It’s not funny,” Moreau said quickly after Heisenberg glared at him, too, but it was obvious Heisenberg’s leer was all in good fun.

“No, no. Tom from Tom and Jerry is a cat,” Heisenberg said. “THAT is an overgrown street rat.”

“Well, one could assume the same about you, but you don’t see us pointing it out,” Donna said breezily.

Another bout of laughter, this time with Heisenberg included.

“Okay, okay, you got me there,” Heisenberg said.

“Must you insist on reacting the same way every single time you see Tea Cake?” Alcina finally spoke up through the playful bickering. She crouched down next to the cat and stroked its back, which caused it to purr in content.

“It’s my trademark,” Heisenberg said with a shrug. “That old woman is still alive?”

“And kicking,” Alcina smiled fondly at her pet.

Tea Cake had been with her for a long fourteen years, witnessing more than a few existential crises and drunken concerts put on to chase off her lurking PTSD. That cat came during the worst part of her life, and Alcina owed everything to that little beast. She learned how to laugh and smile and genuinely feel again, not hide behind the facade that she was a strong, powerful woman who could take on everything and come out without a scratch.

And, yes, Alcina had known- still knew, that she had Miranda and her siblings, but sometimes they were not enough, not back then, not when she was filled with so much shame and self-hatred and disgust. Animals were different in a way people couldn’t be. Animals didn’t lie, they didn’t judge or think about how messed up you were in their heads. They didn’t share your secrets or give you false hope. They just--be there. They listened and lent their presence and, sometimes, that was all that was needed, and some people didn’t seem to understand that.

Tea Cake’s fur had dried more of Alcina’s tears than anyone else ever had because she never let them fall in front of others. Tea Cake didn’t get upset when Alcina touched her; she didn’t understand the concept of emotional trauma and sexual harassment and body image issues. She just cared, even if she didn’t quite get it.

Alcina would probably be dead if it weren’t for her.

Yes, she remembered that fateful night… The wind in her shaggy hair she hadn’t washed in days, the moonglow on her ashen skin, the tears burning in her eyes--all of it was so clear, even now. She remembered how horribly, hopelessly depressed she had been and how she drove out to a field with a note on the dashboard and a gun in the passenger seat.

At the time, nothing had helped her. Her antidepressants weren’t working, going out only made her feel unsafe, and her family’s presence no longer brought her comfort and happiness, rather guilt and shame. The only thing that ever helped was when she drowned herself in the alcohol she made for a living, drinking away her despair and trauma until her body tingled and the phantom hands went away. She was surprised her liver never exploded inside of her during those awful few months.

She had sat in her car for a while, leaning her head on the steering wheel and wallowing in silence and darkness. Then, she got out, made sure the note was visible, and grabbed the gun.

She considered calling or texting her mother and siblings, but that would make it hurt worse. It was better to leave them with their last memories of her than to have this sudden news of a goodbye that they wouldn’t be able to stop.

She placed the pistol’s barrel in her mouth and rested her finger on the trigger. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes like some movies or books say it did, and she was quite thankful for it. She didn’t want to relive the agony she had been put through that led her up to that point. She just shut her eyes as tight as possible in preparation for the bullet to pass through her brain…

Then, there was a rustling from the grass nearby.

Alcina hesitated. The metallic taste of the gun left her tongue and she looked in the direction of the noise.

“Hello?” she had called out in her best possible not-about-to-kill-herself voice.

A tiny meow answered her.

“Your roadkill wants you,” Heisenberg’s voice cut through the daze that had momentarily descended upon Alcina’s mind.

Blinking, Alcina realized that Tea Cake was gnawing on her finger and meowing. She smiled.

“It’s probably dinner time,” Alcina said. She stood up straight. “Come on, children. I have news to share.”

Curious, her three younger siblings followed her out of the room and to her kitchen, Tea Cake padding after them eagerly. Her house was a beautiful creation of the finest wood and the most luxurious stonework. Top-of-the-line appliances filled the space and every little detail, down to the hanging droplets on the chandelier and the grooves in the staircase railing, were customized to her preference. 6 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, 17,182 square feet, 14.99 acres filled by lush vineyards, and $5,500,000 later, and you had the Dimitrescu Estate.

And it was a barren prison.

It had always been there, ever since she moved in: that lingering loneliness that seemed to shroud every hallway. She had so much space, but nobody to fill it. Nobody except herself, Tea Cake, and her maids, of course. Lying awake one night, thinking about this issue as she often did, a solution had finally come to her.

After pouring some wet food into Tea Cake’s food bowl, Alcina grabbed a bottle of sweet butter wine out of her wine fridge and poured a glass for herself and each of her siblings, all of which were staring at her curiously. After taking a long sip, she finally began: “As you all know, I have plans to foster a child. And I greatly appreciate all of the support you three have provided me up until now.”

“Is this an award ceremony or something?” Heisenberg joked light-heartedly. “Can I have the award for most boxes carried? I think I deserve that one.”

“You mean most boxes dropped?” Donna giggled, earning her a playful poke in the side.

“No, it is not an award ceremony,” Alcina glared at Heisenberg without any fire in her gaze. She opened up a drawer in the stainless kitchen island they were gathered around. “Though, this may very well be an award…” She pulled out a blue folder packed full of papers and set it on the marble countertop, grinning brightly. “I just wanted to let you all know first that my training is done. I’ve completed all the classes.” Her heart swelled in her heart as she spoke her next words: “I’m a foster mom now.”

All at once, her younger siblings lit up brighter than the sun’s supernova, throwing their arms up into the air and letting out a celebratory shout. Donna and Moreau even raced around the island to hug Alcina, which she returned with a laugh.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, Alcina!” Donna said, squeezing her with surprising strength. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Me too,” Moreau agreed.

“Sal, are you crying?”

“No!” Moreau yelped, then sniffled. “I just have something in my eye, that’s all.”

“You mean tears?” Heisenberg teased. He then looked at Alcina. “That’s amazing, Alcina. I’m really happy for you. You deserve this.���

“Aww,” Alcina crooned. “Is my little brother going soft?”

Heisenberg instantly steeled himself. “Me? No way! I was just saying what you would want to hear.”

Still being embraced on either side by her other brother and sister, Alcina chuckled. “I see.”

“Do you know your placement yet?” Donna asked, looking up at Alcina as though she were a child again.

“Placements,” Alcina corrected. She couldn’t help but grin again as she spoke of her future children. “Two. I’m getting two little girls.”

“Aww!” Donna and Moreau both cooed.

Heisenberg was nodding. “Girls. Yes. I can do girls.” He looked up at Alcina. “I’m getting them a puppy.”

“Oh, you don’t have--”

“I’m getting them a puppy,” Heisenberg said again, and it was clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Alcina chuckled. “Alright. A puppy it is.”

Donna and Moreau began to join in on plans for being the greatest aunt and uncle, with Moreau saying that they needed to come to his lake for a swim and Donna listing off all the toys she would make for them. Alcina listened to them with a fond smile, happy to have such a supportive family. This was exactly what her daughters were going to need.

Daughters.

Just thinking about that word made her heart flutter in her chest. Her grin turned giddy. She was going to be a mother soon.

As she sipped from her wine glass, she thought about her placements. She had gotten the call four days ago and was scheduled to meet the little ones in the next two weeks. She could still hear her caseworker’s words in her ears during the conversation as she recalled it to her siblings.

“The first is named Daniela,” Duke had said. He was a studious, patient man with a warm smile and hands like chipmunk paws, keen on helping Alcina ever since she started her training to become a foster parent six months ago. “She’s a little girl and eleven years old. Her parents have, unfortunately, recently died due to a car crash. Her living relatives are unfit to take care of her, so she’s been placed into the foster system. Right now, she’s staying with her aunt and uncle, but she cannot be kept there much longer because of, ah…jealousy issues with their actual child.

The second is named Cassandra. Another girl, this one twelve years old. She’s been in the foster program ever since she was a baby when she was given up, as she was born from a teenager who couldn’t take care of her. She’s had…quite a few foster homes, all of which had given her up to someone else due to…issues. I understand if you don’t want to take this child. She’s been known to cause problems in her houses and pick fights. There is-- woo, that’s a lot of complaints… There are some notes on her left by her former families and-- Goddamn. They’re writing of her like she’s a monster or something…”

“Of course, I couldn’t turn down either of them,” Alcina concluded her retelling. “Especially the second one. Cassandra. The poor thing sounds like she needs a good home.”

“You’re so sweet, Alci,” Donna said, smiling at her.

“Think you can handle it?” Heisenberg asked. “I’m not doubting your abilities, but from what you said about the kid… Well, she just sounds difficult.”

“You were difficult,” Alcina said, grinning at him. “And everything turned out just fine, didn’t it?”

Her youngest brother’s concern didn’t diminish. “Yes, but… I don’t want anything to happen to you or my niece.”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all cooed. Heisenberg huffed.

“Oh, shut it! I have a heart!”

“You do,” Alcina’s smile lightened slightly. “But don’t worry: everything will be okay. I can do this. I need to do this. Those two little girls need a mother.”

Heisenberg considered her for a moment, then nodded. He smiled at her. “You’ve got a good heart, Alcina,” he said. “If you ever need any help, I’m here.”

“Me too!” Donna joined in.

“Me three!” Moreau piped up.

Alcina laughed. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot to me. Now…” She raised her glass. “Let’s drink before we have to cut back because there will be children around!”

Her siblings laughed and mimicked her gesture.

Alcina couldn’t wait.

[nanatsumu]

📞 RENT A BOYFRIEND

03. a heart to hold

akaashi smiled at your texts before shutting off his phone and softly throwing it onto his mattress, watching as the device lands safely without rebounding onto the ground before continuing to brush his teeth.

you and akaashi went to the same university together: he was a sophmore majoring in english, while you were a freshman majoring in human physiology at the time.

you were still getting used to the campus and how to get to all your classes, and there was also the challenge of adjusting to the bustling city of tokyo since you grew up in the countryside basically your entire life. even before you moved to hyogo during your middle school years, you lived in miyagi which wasn’t too different from hyogo so you were quick to adjust to your new home.

so when you were looking for your seminar class, you didn’t realize you walked into the wrong class until the professor had called you out. you knew he didn’t mean to embarrass you since he was just doing his job, but it didn’t help that the class had over 200 people occupying the room and it seemed like all eyes were on you.

blood rushed to your cheeks as you muttered a quick apology before running out of the classroom as fast as you could.

coincidentally, akaashi had watched this scene unfold from the 10th row of the classroom and it was only when his friend had pointed it out that he realized the corners of his lips formed a smile on his face.

the university you guys attended was fairly populated so he doubted you two would ever run into each other again, but then the universe seemed to have other plans for akaashi because on one fateful day, he saw you sitting by the window at the cafe he had been going to for a while now. with his easygoing personality, akaashi was able to strike up conversation with you when he walked up to you and asked if you were the girl who walked into the wrong classroom a few days ago.

he found your flustered expression cute and from there on out you two grew closer and closer as time passed. akaashi was your rock and the person who stood by your side through thick and thin. slowly, he taught you what it meant to be loved again— but still scarred from your previous relationship with suna you weren’t sure if you could open your heart up to another, so you decided to push these feelings away and you weren’t even sure if your feelings for akaashi would be reciprocated anyways.

but you also remembered that one time (a few weeks after you met akaashi) when he introduced you to his close friend bokuto and when the energetic male had asked if you were his girlfriend, akaashi joked around and said you were but then quickly dismissed it with a wave of his hand. you didn’t think too much about it then, but when his touches on you started to linger for a second longer than it should’ve, you started to have some hope that maybe your friendship could blossom into something more.

but all of that hope suddenly came crashing down one day when you overheard his conversation with bokuto on the phone during one of your friday movie nights.

you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when you heard bokuto asking akaashi what his feelings for you were, you thought that maybe you could spare to be ‘asleep’ for a few more minutes. but you soon regretted your decision because anything could have been better than hearing the words ‘i could’ve never like her like that, she’s like a sister to me’ fall from his lips. and that was the moment you decided that you would never allow anybody else into your heart ever again, because it seems like every time you think that you found the right guy, you’re always left alone to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

you shuffle around a bit which alarms akaashi, but just as he is about to apologize for waking you up, he realizes that you’re still asleep and lets out a sigh of relief before noticing that a piece of hair fell over your face.

he leans in closer and brushes the stray lock out of your eyes, allowing his gaze on you to linger for a bit longer. he knows it’s wrong for him to take advantage of you like this while you’re asleep, but he can’t help but close whatever gap is left in between you two and capture your lips in for a chaste kiss. and unbeknownst to the ravenette, this action only further broke your heart and added confusion into the mix because who would kiss someone who is like a sister to them?

after that day, you took it upon yourself to set an invisible border between you and akaashi because you weren’t sure if you could handle all of these mixed signals he was sending you anymore. akaashi wasn’t blind either, he was the setter of a powerhouse school back in high school which meant he had keen observation skills, so it didn’t take him long before he realized that you were distancing yourself from him a bit more than usual. although there wasn’t a huge change in your behavior, akaashi noticed that whenever he would scoot the tiniest amount closer to you, you would always widen that distance between you two double the amount. and this upset akaashi because you were always so intent on being as close to him as possible, so why were you only drifting farther away from him?

and to this day, you managed to keep your feelings at bay and not act upon them in fear of getting rejected. you would have confronted akaashi about the kiss, but you didn’t have the guts to. you didn’t want to ruin whatever you had going on with akaashi because you read the signals wrong. who knows? maybe he got a little tipsier than usual that night and wasn’t thinking straight— that would explain why he kissed you despite his protests of you being just a friend.

you were content with your friday movie nights night where you two would snuggle up on the couch and watch a rerun of your favorite movie. and you were content with him randomly showing up to your apartment with a bag of take out in his hand because he noticed you were looking a bit more fatigued that day so he wanted to stop by and make sure you were doing okay.

so why should you be greedy and try to ask akaashi for more of him? he was already a good friend and was the one who had helped you to decide whether or not you should switch majors because human physiology had been taking a toll on your mental health.

you figured akaashi would want to focus more on his career rather than hold himself back with a girlfriend, so not wanting to put your friendship with the stoic male at risk, you opted to staying silent about your growing feelings for akaashi until those feelings would fade away into nothing more than a platonic crush.

༄ directory

༄ next: spotted in the ice cream aisle

++ A/N: i feel like there might be a little bit of confusion with this chapter so i will head straight into the explanation:

(P.S THIS IS A CHAPTER SOLELY DEDICATED TO EXPLAINING AKAASHI AND Y/N’S FRIENDSHIP) akaashi and y/n are best friends who met in university after y/n graduated fresh out of high school. they started off as friends but slowly y/n started to harbor romantic feelings towards akaashi since they started spending a lot of time together. it was only until akaashi was on the phone with bokuto that one night that y/n realized that the romantic gestures akaashi had been doing for her were only platonic because “she is like a sister to him.” and this is where things get tricky!! the only reason why akaashi said that was because y/n was sleeping on the couch and akaashi was sitting right next to her so he didn’t want to outright say “oh i have feelings for y/n” since he didn’t want to risk you actually being awake and hearing him confess his feelings to you indirectly. so this is where things also get confusing for y/n because even though she heard akaashi say that she was just a friend with her own ears, he keeps giving her mixed signals by doing stuff a boyfriend would do. time skip to present time: akaashi and y/n are still best friends and y/n is able to act normal around him since her feelings for him finally died down (but she still has some lingering feelings for him) whereas akaashi.... we’ll get to him later because this can serve as a potential catalyst for angst in the future hehehehe....

+ also this whole thing correlates to the first chapter where y/n and her friend group are introduced because she mentioned how she “wasn’t ready for any one other than herself to hold her heart” and that applies to suna and akaashi because first of all: she was heartbroken after finding out that suna cheated on her with her best friend so anyone would be traumatized by that. and second of all: even though akaashi and her aren’t necessarily ‘together’ she still got heartbroken because he was the only other guy she ever liked in her life and she got rejected before she could even confess. so that’s why y/n is so defensive about the ordeal kuroo got her into because she’s just scared of getting hurt again :((

++ and also they are no longer in university since they both graduated already and are very responsible (cough) working adults :)) so most of the scenes in this chapter are things that happened while they were students which explains why y/n is able to not be as cautious around akaashi anymore since a lot of time has passed since then

TAGLIST :

@nerdynstoned • @bokutoichigo • @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa • @kac-chowsballs • @yukae-rin • @starryhyun • @4kaashl • @bnha-meme-sanctuary (msg me or send an ask to be apart of the taglist!)

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XVII — masterlist

concept: you surprise chris for his birthday while he's shooting in italy. the slowest of slow burns. the ever anticipated part eighteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fluff. just prepare to melt.

author's note: everyone can thank @tonystankschild for this one. she was deep in the dm's asking for fluff and i intended to deliver the fluffiest of fluffs.

You liked to consider yourself a rational person at the best of times.

That consideration, however, was entirely negated by the fact that you were now on a flight to Italy to surprise Chris for his birthday. There was nothing rational about it.

But you had saved for this trip, and Chris had done so much for you in the past year or so, that you had wanted to do something for him.

And you had decided that no one should be alone on their birthday, no matter how far away they were.

You had caught a flight from Boston after making the forty-four hour roadtrip to drive Dodger there, not having the funds to fly him to the Evans' household. The fees of bringing an animal on board were astronomical, and you were still balking from how high the number was.

Chris was a wealthy man, however, and those types of costs never quite fazed him as much as they did you.

So you had driven him to Lisa's, a thousand thank yous on your lips as she delivered you to the airport to minimize on the extra cost of leaving your car at the airport parking lots.

Scott – who had still been there from the Patriot's game, "tryin' to get as much family lovin' as he could" as he put it – smiled knowingly at you when you had brought Dodger in.

"You go, baby vamp," he'd whispered to you. It was an outdated saying, but you knew it anyways, and laughed him off.

"We're just friends, Scott."

"Yeah, just like these highlights are from the sun."

He had given you a tight hug, wished you luck on your trip, and – like Lisa would later do at the drop off – made you promise to wish Chris a happy birthday from them.

When you touched down in Italy, it was early morning, that hovering between night and dawn.

You had once again called Chris' agent – Mark – to get details on the shoot, ones which he reluctantly handed over.

You thought that perhaps he was trying to save Chris the PR scandal of being seen with another woman while publicly in a relationship with Lily, but you had pointed out that you had been clearly established as friend of the couple with your global third wheel memes. It didn't take much pressing, because Mark knew how much you both cared about each other and how happy you being there for Chris' birthday would make the actor. So he emailed you the shooting location, with a schedule and call sheet. The tagline was very quick: "Don't interrupt shooting :)"

After a quick shower at the affordable three star you'd rented for the weekend, you got ready in spite of the weariness the plane left you with. Hot water did wonders to waken you, and a touch of makeup never hurt.

You stepped out in the warm breeze, the wind toying softly with the skirt of the summer dress you wore. You easily hailed a cab, and, after failing at the pronunciation of where you were headed, let the cabbie read the location off your phone.

The first person you saw when you got out of the car was Chris.

He was stood off to the side by the craft table, a crewmate quickly doing a last minute adjustment to his hair as he went over his lines. Dressed in an Italian pinstripe suit, you remembered what the film was about.

The indie flick told the tale of an arranged marriage between the son of an Irish mob boss and the daughter of a New York mafia don. Most of the film, however, was set in Italy, where the son, Mickey, had to travel to win the favour of the extended mafia family for the blessing on the union. Briefly, the scene with the strawberries popped into your mind.

You were stopped by security, but Mark – who had been waiting for you – vouched for your admittance.

You stood a little ways away from Chris, within eyesight, but not obvious. It was a surprise, after all.

You called him, watching from where you leaned against his trailer wall. Chris, ringtone blaring for his attention, quickly patted down his suit pockets before finding the device. His glance at the caller I.D. was followed by his whole face lighting up, soft smile on his lips.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," he said into the receiver. "Isn't it a little late in L.A.?"

"It is," you replied. "But it's your birthday tomorrow, and I couldn't resist."

"You know, I've been told I'm irresistible before," he chuckled. "Just never thought I'd hear you say it."

"Well, what can I say? Suits do it for me," you smirked, dropping your first hint.

Scott was right. Chris really could be clueless. "You'd love the one they just put me in then," he murmured, distracted by the food on display at the craft table as he perused the options. "A real classy number."

"What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?"

"They gave me the weekend off to celebrate, but you know me... Probably will go wine tasting by myself and look at some art or something. Oh, man, read a book. Yeah, haven't done that in a while."

You watched as he plucked a strawberry from the table, and your stomach fluttered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" He hummed as he bit in to the sweet fruit.

"Aren't you sick of strawberries by now?"

Chris froze, eyes wide in shock. Running his tongue over his teeth smoothly and swallowing the bite, he began swiveling his head, trying to look out for where you may be hiding. "Where are you?" He grinned.

"Guess."

And then he saw you.

And then he had you wrapped in his arms, the force of the running tackle hug sending your back crashing into the trailer, metal creaking.

You laughed breathlessly, hanging up the call as you hugged him back.

"Chris," you strained against the bone crush of his fierceness. "Oxygen–"

He loosened his grip, but didn't take back his arms. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

His whispery breath in your hair as he deeply inhaled the apple scented shampoo clinging to you had electricity coursing through your veins. "My bones have some idea, I think you might've fractured a rib."

The rumble of the chuckle reverberated through his body and into yours, and heat dusted your ears and cheekbones. "Sorry, I just can't believe you're here. I had to make sure you were real." And then, the question you'd expected: "Where's Dodger?"

"Dodger is in Boston with your mom. And I'm here, I'm real," you reassured him, smoothing your hands over the back of the meticulously woven cotton of his suit. "But you also have a real job to get back to."

"Oh, right," he groaned sheepishly. In his joy, he'd almost forgotten where he was. "Just hang around for a bit, we're only filming a little today before we're off."

So you did. You got given a seat, just off camera, and watched Chris do his thing. His performance was breathtaking, the way he embodied such a dangerous man. It was enough to make you flushed, the square of his shoulders, the confidence in his stride – the danger lurking under Italian silk lined cotton. You'd never quite seen him like this.

And it thrilled you to see a man you usually felt so safe around look so menacing.

It was the love proclamation scene that served to be your undoing, however.

The director kept hounding Chris, demanding retake after retake. He wanted that genuine love to flow through, and it simply just wasn't.

"Think of someone you love," the director suggested. "Put them in your mind's eye. You have a girlfriend, yes? Would it help to bring a picture for you to look at off camera? Tell the picture you love her. Someone get me a picture of this man's lover, please! Imagine you've never told her how you feel. And you've been feeling it for a while, and even though it was very... what is the English word? Uncommon? It was uncommon meeting circumstances you met... You love her. Si?"

Chris grit his teeth and nodded, ready to comply. And once the picture was brought out, the call for quiet on set rang out.

But once the director called action, Chris didn't look at Lily. Your heart clenched, your breath catching in your throat.

No, his eyes found you.

"I love you," he said the words you'd never thought you'd hear him say – at least not to you – and the sincerity in his cracked voice was overwhelming. His eyes were watery, relief dropping his shoulders – as if he'd kept this inside for too long and a weight had been lifted. He sighed it again and again, as if it was the only thing that was going to save him, as if it's the only words he'd ever known.

And when the director called cut, singing Chris' praises, he was still looking at you.

———————

"I still can't believe you're wearing that," Chris chuckled.

You dipped your sunglasses lower on the bridge of your nose to observe him critically. He was leaning against a Vespa, arms folded, the sleeves of his loose white cotton button down rolled up to his elbows, barely containing the bulge of his muscles. Black trousers clad his legs, on his feet a pair of black Italian leather loafers he'd gotten as a gift from his co-star. He wore his own pair of sunglasses, hair swept back, being tousled by the passing breeze.

The statement had been made in reference to the silk scarf you wore, twisted around your neck delicately in a way that was reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. "If I'm going to have a Roman holiday," you giggled, tripping a little on your way to the Vespa – Chris moved to catch you, but you righted yourself, "you best believe I'm going to fucking look like it."

You had gone to a wine tasting in a vineyard on the outskirts of Rome, somewhere far into the countryside. You had both goofed off the entire time, earning yourselves scolding looks from the sophisticated tourists and the locals, who had wanted a peaceful afternoon at the farm.

You sniffed the wines, obnoxiously listing all the strange terminology the haughty wine connoisseurs would throw around casually, before taking your sips.

It became somewhat of an inside joke between the two of you, finding yourselves lagging behind the group because you couldn't stop laughing. And whenever you were shot a dirty look, it would only make you laugh more.

"You're meant to taste it," he'd whispered to you.

"I am tasting it," you shot back.

"No, you're chugging it like a sixteen year old whose parent made the unwise choice of leaving unsupervised."

The tour guide had been eyeing the two of you up, waiting for your silence. The rest of the tour group turned their critical gaze too, and you gave Chris' foot a soft stomp to get his attention.

Both of you shut up, giggling under your breaths as Chris had practically bowed in his gesture for the guide to continue.

But now it was time to go back to the inner city, and Chris had waited patiently for you by the Vespa while you'd gone to freshen up a bit. The cobblestones were hell for your tipsiness, but you were wine and laugh drunk, and hadn't a care in the world.

"You know how they say there's always that one pair of annoying people on wine tastings that ruin the experience for everyone?"

"They do?" Chris' brow creased in question as he grinningly handed you your helmet.

"Of course they do. Well, I couldn't find them, so it must be us."

Chris clicked his own helmet in place as he caught sight of the hostess by the front door giving you both a dirty look. "What finally gave it away?"

He slid easily onto the Vespa seat, heeling up the kickstand and righting the orientation.

"Hop on, princess," he beckoned you with a nod. You regretted wearing a dress for this part, but you were serious about the Roman Holiday aesthetic.

Serious enough to risk flashing someone as you mounted the scooter behind Chris. But luckily you didn't.

"Hold on tight," Chris called over his shoulder. You complied, encircling your arms around his waist, pressing your bodies together.

You could feel his heart rate pick up, but before you could think too much about it, he took off – cobblestone streets and ivy climbed buildings flying past you in your bliss.

————————

Two of the three worst things that could've happened to you while riding a scooter in the countryside did.

The scooter had broken down and it had started to rain. Not only rain, but fucking pour. You were drenched through to your skin, pulled over on the side of the road, Chris trying to kickstart the machine into working again.

After his fifth attempt, he came over to you, squinting in the rain.

"It's not working," he shouted over the droning rainfall. "Let's just find some shelter and come up with a game plan!"

There were nothing but open spans of green fields and wheat as far as your eyes could see. But a little while back, just over the hill, there had been lights in the haze of rain, a little nondescript sign on the side of the road that you'd whipped past suggesting the shelter that you so desperately craved.

"I think there was a house back there," you yelled back. "Maybe they could help out."

He nodded imperceptibly in the shower of droplets, hand on the small of your back, fitting so seamlessly in the curve of your spine, and began guiding you.

You both dashed across the road, and then you were tearing through the long grass in a shortcut to the twinkling beacons of the lights in the windows, looking like eyes peering at you in the darkness.

Somewhere along the way, you'd found out that Chris was a little ticklish at his waist, and after you'd discovered it – he'd flinched away from you and begged you to stop, but you'd continued just to antagonise him – you wouldn't let it go. It took you much longer to get there than would be normal, but soon, you were both stood, shivering and drenched on the porch step.

There was a sign on the door telling you it was a little inn – an underused bed and breakfast, most likely for road weary travelers on their way to Rome.

You didn't bother knocking as you entered the lobby, spilling inside with laughter still on both your lips. Muddied shoes squelched, and your sodden clothes dripped onto the floor.

You immediately moved to the fire while Chris went to go confer with the front desk.

His two months in Rome had taught him a fair amount of Italian, but it was still quite broken, and he found himself floundering with a lot of the words.

The landlady – a portly old woman with an extraordinarily kind smile and crows footed crinkles by her eyes – understood the predicament.

She explained to him in English – loud enough in the silence so you could hear over the crackle of the fire – that the road services would probably only be available to come out so far tomorrow morning, and that it'd be best to stay the night.

She didn't seem like someone who would scam you into staying at her little roadside hostel – even going so far as to give Chris some white fluffy towels for the both of you.

He paid for the last room available with soggy money, and returned to you, fresh towels in his arms.

He draped one over your shoulders first, and when you reached out to cling it to your frame, your fingers brushed.

That same electricity jolted through you both, travelling with lightning quick velocity down both your spines to spark alive the restless butterflies you had well and truly thought you had put to rest. You were the first to withdraw, allowing Chris to put a towel over himself.

He ran it through his hair, the pieces that had been plastered to his skin with water raising into spikes.

You laughed, reaching out a tentative hand – giving him ample time to withdraw should he need to – to smooth it back and away from his face.

But your laughter died down, as it inevitably did whenever he looked down at you like that. Because how the hell were you meant to function when his eyes were on your lips the way they were now?

And you damn near choked when he started leaning down, lips pressing closer to yours...

But before they touched, he broke into a gut-wrenching smirk, moving past your tingling and awaiting mouth to whisper in your ear. "I dibs the shower."

And then he was sprinting up the stairs.

You were so in shock that for a minute you couldn't even register what had happened, and when you did, you cursed at him, following him up, swearing you'll skin him alive.

And all the while, the landlady was watching the two of you, a knowing glimmer in those kind eyes. She muttered something in Italian, one she repeated many a time during your stay, a saying you would come to know as "young love."

And she didn't even care that you had tracked mud into her hotel and soaked the carpets through from your wet clothes.

She just cared that there were still kids in love in this world.

———————

Once you had both taken a shower and were wrapped up in your complimentary hotel bathrobes, you realised that neither of you were tired.

Your clothes were laid out, sprawled over the backs of chairs, drying by a fire Chris had taken the liberty of building.

So you both decided to go downstairs, and see what activities you could engage in with the other guests. It would do well to help you forget the prospect of having to share a bed with Chris.

According to the landlady, this was the last room available. And of course, Chris had offered to sleep on the floor, as gentlemanly as ever.

But you couldn't do that to him on his birthday, so you'd told him it would be fine, as long as a pillow fort was built to prevent any unnecessary contact.

The common area was woefully empty, save for a couple of sleepy looking musicians, poised atop their makeshift stage, on the brink of passing out on their instruments.

When you and Chris entered, however, they livened up, striking up some traditional Italian melody you may have heard before in passing.

It wasn't that late, so the bar was still open, and Chris managed to purchase a bottle of wine.

Most of the seats had been stacked on the tables, and he helped you pull some down before seating yourselves.

He poured you both wine, and you sat there in your robes, listening to the music.

The landlady came by, at some point, to light the tea light candle on your table.

When you thanked her, she said the same thing she had said earlier – in Italian, so you struggled to understand.

Chris, however, who had been taking a hearty sip of wine, nearly choked. "Mille grazie," he winked.

She scoffed, patting his cheek affectionately, much like a grandmother would her grandson. You didn't catch much of what she said, aside from one word. Cacciatore, in reference to a flirtatious man.

"What did she say to you?"

"She said amore giovane. It means young love."

You turned to try and find her – wanting to correct the innocent mistake of having her assume that you and Chris were in love. Fact of the matter was, there was still with Lily, and you couldn't stand to think of the PR nightmare it would be if it were to get out that he was at an admittedly romantic bed and breakfast with you of all people. "Oh, no, we aren't..." You faded out awkwardly. "He has a girlfriend!"

"Actually," Chris said softly, as if he had been wanting to tell you this for a while. "I don't. Not anymore. Not since the last day at the Hamptons."

Relief flooded you, followed by something undetermined – hope, you would later discover – before you were floored with absolute sympathy. "Oh, Chris. Chris, I'm so sorry."

You reached over to link your fingers in a reassuring hand hold, and his focus was pulled to that singular touch, that point of joining.

"If there's anything I can do to help..."

"No, it just..." He swallowed, finally pulling those ocean eyes to you. "It just wasn't meant to be, I guess. She wasn't the one."

His eyes told a story much deeper, hinting to something that you didn't have the strength to uncover. You'd been hurt too many times by these false feelings, you really weren't sure how ready you were to face them once more.

"What happened?"

"She thinks I'm in love with someone else." When you didn't say anything again – too stunned to do so – Chris cleared his throat. "I, uh," he tried for a smile, "I believe you owe me a dance."

It took you a while to recall him asking you to save him the last dance at the charity gala, and when it registered, you grinned, questions of who dissipating. "Let's go dance."

The band saw you and Chris approach the dancefloor, and immediately switched to a slow waltz. Chris took you in his arms, and as you both swayed to the music, you could almost imagine you were back in Vegas, before Lily, before everything, when the biggest problem in your life was that you had kissed your best friend on your birthday.

His body was so warm pressed to yours, that you felt every tense muscle in your body relax. That hand – forever fitted so perfectly to the groove of the small of your back – traced delicate patterns through the flannel of the gown.

Your cheek was on his chest, and your eyes were closed, and you couldn't see the way he was looking at you.

Because in his eyes – those beautiful ocean eyes – was a love. The love that you were incapable of seeing, but one that everyone else had – including Lily.

There was worship in every sapphire fleck, and there was pure adoration in the inky depths of his pupils.

And as he held you, body nestled so perfectly against his, knew that the angels would damn themselves for you. Because he sure as hell would.

———————

When Chris had gone to get more drinks – the bottle you had shared being finished – you had gone to speak to the musicians.

And surprisingly, they had what you had requested.

Chris was uncorking the bottle when you had hopped up on stage.

There was no microphone this time, and the musicians were glad to receive a break, joining the landlady at the back for a drink – leaving you and Chris alone in the room. Their departure caught his attention, and he glanced at you, before doing a double take.

You were sat at the edge of the stage – feet dangling off to graze the floor every now and then – and in your hands was a ukelele.

The memory of the last time you played for him was chased away by the excitement of this next song.

You were tuning it when you finally noticed Chris watching you. He had that look in his eye – one you were so used to seeing, but one you never quite let yourself understand – and he slowly sank into his seat to watch you. He propped his head on a fist, candlelight flickering in his eyes.

And without much of an introduction, you plucked at the strings delicately, beginning a ukelele rendition of "La Vie En Rose."

His smile broadened into a beam when you started singing. Never had he felt absolute peace like this – at least without having you in his arms.

Hold me close and hold me fast

This magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

You looked up at him, your expression earnest. You always found yourself being much more capable of conveying emotion in your actions, rather than with your words. Words made things messy. Music... that was beauty incarnate.

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

Chris breathed in deeply, his heart stuttering, but heavy in his chest. The hold – that spell – you so flawlessly cast on him was rising again, and he knew, with all certainty, that he would not wish to break the enchantment for anything in the world. He was Icarus, and you were the sun – the magnetic pull he felt was that strong.

When you press me to your heart

I am in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

Your eyes found his and you grinned, beguiling him. As you played the interlude, you mouthed to him "happy birthday;" and it was. It was perhaps one of the happiest birthdays he'd had in a while, because it was the one he'd spent with you.

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

His heart was swelling, throat thick with emotion. His eyes burned, but he was almost certain the tears gathering was from a lack of blinking. He didn't want to pull his gaze away from you, not for a single second. He had told you he had loved you earlier that day – and this felt like more of a response than he'd ever receive. He knew how difficult it was for you to say those words. And he was okay with that. He'd take what you gave, and you were giving him this – a song as lovely as the woman who was currently singing it. And he thought he was going to simply die when you looked up at him with those eyes, and that smile, and that voice reaching out to him, singing that final verse.

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

Little did you know, you already owned those things.

You'd owned them since the night you met.

[jawlinedolan]

Sugar Cane Nymph (G.D.)

Sugar cane nymph (G.D.)

disclaimer-> i’m colombian so english is obviously NOT my first language. i’m fluent and generally have non-terrible grammar but I usually just  write academic stuff in english. i have only ever written fiction in my mother language before this so please bare with me while i get used to this.

this took a while to write omg it wasn’t supposed to be this long, anyways enjoy and PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE let me know what you guys think about it?💓💓🎊🎊

TELL ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE A PART TWO

summary: Grayson meets his mom’s new neighbor after an unexpected for legged visitor ivades Lisa’s Garden.

word count: +5k

warnings: some minor swearing, a whole buch of flustered grayson and hopefully a bit of humor? also i did not proof-read this sorry

Poor Grayson. For the millionth time that night something was disturbing his peaceful sleep. First the frogs and now his mom chooses this moment to do laundry.He thought half asleep. His hazy mind couldn’t for the life of him imagine any other reason for the incessant rumbling that was currently penetrating the walls of his tiny bedroom. He was mad. All of that crunching and crashing outside had taking him out of his amazing dream.

Oh, and was it an amazing one. So beautiful, just like her. He didn’t even know her name yet her image had managed to plague his every waking moment and now it seemed his slumber too. Not that he minded though, his dream had brought them closer.

He needed his sleep because he needed to wake up early, otherwise he would miss it, miss her. He had discovered her on his first morning run ever since coming back home. He always thought that Jersey had the prettiest countryside in all of North America and now he was sure of it. How could it not be with such a gorgeous nymph galoping around bareback on top her trusty steed. She was out there every morning at exactly 5:50 a.m.

Dammit. When had he became such a sap? Grayson knew he was attractive and he definitely knew how to use it. He had never encountered trouble wooing the ladies before. But this one, oh this one was different. There was something about her, he didn’t even knew her name but he just felt a certain way when he was around her. Well, more like spying behind a particularly dense bush that surrounded the little clearing where she ended her ride every morning. And that he had found on pure coincidence . If you could count trying to conspicuously keep up with a galloping horse for a quarter of mile as coincidence, that is. In his defense he just couldn’t let her get away, it was like she was pulling him without even knowing.

Each morning she would ride up there and he would be waiting behind the bush to watch the show. He could hear it’s powerful hoves before he could devise the big black stallion. Even her horse was different. It had a beautiful shinny black coat that the women at his mom’s beauty salon would envy. It’s mane and tale cascaded down his body in actual curls. Just like hers. He had never seen a horse that didn’t have straight hair.

It was sort of funny, one of the first things he noticed about the mysterious girl was her long and lucious curly hair. And she looked so in sync with the beast. With the dark curls and big brown eyes they almost looked like family.

She was short thing, as he noticed when he saw her stading next to the horse for the first time. He reckoned she would reach to his chest or his shoulders, at best. Her thick thighs hugged the animal’s torso right before she jumped off its back, squatting on her landing which made her delectable ass stretch her jeans. It all looked pretty profesional and innocent, still, he couldn’t help but imagine those beautiful legs wrapping around his waist while his big hads supported that delicious bottom.

Was he seriously getting exited at a half asleep memory or was it just morning wood?

He ignored that thought and kept his eyes closed, continuing with his hazy recollection.

Their conection was amazing, it was just her and her beast. She didn’t use a saddle or tack. She simply spoke to it, like one would another human being, and then she would scratch it’s neck. After that the thousand poud animal did everything she asked. It reared and bowed at her comand and, sometimes, she would let her hair down and they would spin and jump around almost like they were dancing.

No matter how many times he hid behind that bush to watch them, Grayson was in awe at every single thing she did. To him, she was completely mesmerizing.

So mesmerizing, in fact, that he could never bring himself to step out from behind his reliable bush to say hi. She seemed nice enough, surely she wouldn’t think he was some sort of creepy stalker, right? Except, at this point, he kind of was. But his little nymph didn’t need to know that.

Giving up on sleep he decided that if his mom felt the need to do the laundry two days in a row he better find a way of his own of being productive. But upon opening his eyes he was surprised to be greeted by darkness and those stupid frogs chirping outside. He tapped around until his long fingers got a grasp on his cellphone and squinted when the damned thing nearly blinded him with it’s brightness.

Then suddenly the laundry room was shaking again.

“The fuck” he groaned sleepily.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the light emanating from the screen of his Iphone he let out another groan, silently cursing the digital clock that read 4:25 a.m.. His alarm would be ringing in less than an hour for his morning run and he was super tired because some frogs had decided to serenade him until one in the morning. How come they aren’t sleeping yet?

Then there was that rumbling again. But when he realized that his mechanical roommate would be empty of dirty clothes at such unholy hour he began to worry. It’s not like the house was near the street, whatever or whoever was causing all that ruckus had to be in the property. He crept out of his room barefoot trying to be conspicuous and stealthy, even though the cold floor was torturing his toes.

He reached the front door after a quick stop at the kitchen to grab his mother’s big trusty iron frying pan in case he needed to attack. He made a mentan note to not leave everything that could be a potential weapon inside his building shed next time.

After taking a fortifying breath he grabbed the doorknob and turned it as delicately and silently as man his size could manage.

At first glance nothing on the porch seemed out of the ordinary, but when he turned the lights on he noticed it. An overturned plantpot which used to contain an colorful flower that, according to his mom, was an exotic plant that her friend had brought her from her vacation in the caribbean. His mom couldn’t stop talking about her colorful little flower when they showed her her new garden and how she was going to give it a special place in it. And now some rascal had savagely munched on it leaving only the dying stems amongst the dirt.

Suddenly the early morning was eerily silent again. Grayson tried to slow his breathing while straining to hear anything tha would give away the position of the invader. His heart was just about to beat out of his chest, the house was in the middle of nowhere, anything could be out there.

When he finally heard something he couldn’t believe his ears. High pitched and clearly irritated he barely recognized it.

Was that a neigh?

He followed the sound and finally got his answer upon glancing at Lisa’s Garden. The animal that appeared tu be stuck near one of the flower beds looked like a horse, kind of. It had a mane, a tail, four hooves, pointy ears and it was distinctly neighing, everythig pointed that it was a horse. Except for the fact that it couldn’t be any taller than three feet. It seemed he was in presence of a miniature horse.

Quickly running to his building shed he grabbed his diagonal pliers to cut the wire that had most likely trapped his hoof. But when he came back to help the little guy found him with his head deep into the nearest flower pot casually having a 5 a.m. flowery snack.

“Hey! Stop that!” he yelled trying to separate the little beast from it’s colorful victim. “YOU LITTLE FUCKER” Grayson yelled when the animal actually bit him for trying to take away his meal. Weren’t horses suposed to be vegetarian? Well if it liked flowers so much who’s to say it didn’t have other bizarre tastes... like fucking human flesh.

Waking up from all the noise Lisa walked outside to see her 6ft tall 200lb son wrestling a mini horse for a pot of half munched flowers. And she knew their equine visitor very well.

Grayson looked up from his struggle to see his mom walking out of the house with her phone in hand. He looked at her pleadingly and she just chuckled.

“Don’t worry sweetie I called his owners, Emperor’s mom is coming to pick him up as we speak” She told him.

“Wait you actually know where he came from?!” He let go of the animal and marched up to the woman comfortably clad in whool robe and warm slippers while he was out there shirtless and barefoot, hair stuck in every direction, trying to defend their home.

And of course in that moment his beloved brother decided to join in the fun from his bedroom window. Ethan let put a loud snort at his twin’s dishiveled appearance.

“Dude, what happened to you?” he asked in between laughs.

“Shut the fuck up E!” Grayson yelled looking up to his brother. “It could’ve been a murderer or some shit” At that Lisa couldn’t contain herself anymore and let put a loud laugh. She walked towards him with his coat in her hands that she had retrieved while the boys bantered.

“Oh realx sweetie! I don’t think you can die from cuteness overload” She paused while Grayson snatched his coat and glanced at the small black horse. to speak to it in a baby voice. “Ain’t that right Emperor?”

He put on his coat over his otherwise naked torso and and ran his hands through his unruly hair, exasperated. His mom speaking to the little monster briefly reminded him of his beautiful nymph and how her horse actually seemeyto listen, unlike this urchin that had breakfast on his mom’s flowers. He sneered at the animal before speaking.

“So you know the owners, ma?”

“Yeah, they’re sugarcane farmers. Our neighbors up north.”

“Up north? That’s dairy farm?” Grayson replied maliciously. Of course it would be dairy people that would own this mini horse devil. It just made sense.

Lisa just chuckled again at the grave look on Grayson’s face. Ethan just observed carefully from above how Emperor finished a pot of tiny purple flowers and was stretching his little neck trying to reach the next one containing daisies. Or at least he thought that’s what those were, either way it was simply hilarious.

“That’s north of the road, Gray. I’m talking about north of the property, they grow sugarcane organically. ” She explained exitedly.

“Oh... well whoever they are they better come get their poor animal soon.”

“They are already on the way, I just sent Denisse a text” She replied sternly, her sons could be the biggest men-child sometimes. “And even though they’re not vegan, I can assure you they take real good care of their animals.” Since Grayson didn’t seem all that convinced she continued, “Especially their horses, Denisse’s daughter has wall full of horsemanship thophies and first place ribbons, that girl spends hours everyday tending them.”

“Well apparently not enough” He grumbled brooding. “This one is clearly not that educated”

“Oh, Emperor is just a bit... energetic”

Oh hell no. She was actually gonna deffend it.

“ENERGETIC?!” He snapped. “ He ate your exotic flower and destroyed the garden! He’s a monster in a small package!”

“Gray it’s okay. And you’re exaggerating he didn’t destroy anything he just turned a few flower pots.”

“What about you exotic kayacka or whatever it’s called!” He kept on yelling. “HE ANNIHILATE IT”

Grayson was seething at this point. He loved animals and nature, he had gone vegan for God’s sake. But this was just too much, nature had basically trampled him in the last 12 hours. First the god forsaken frogs screaming their slimy little lungs out kept him up half of the night and now this!

This annoying piece of horse flesh had not only awoken him at the fucking asscrack of down, but it had also destroyed the garden he had busted his back to buid for Ma, who was currently laughing at his missery. And as if that wasn’t enough he was more than likely going to miss his secret appointment with his beautiful nymph.

“It’s called a cayena and he didn’t do it intentionally , Gosh, calm down” She pinned him with a stare “And it’s not that big of a deal, there’s more where that one came from I’m sure Denisse wouldn’t mind. Plus her daughter will more than likely begg to help picking up this mess, like I said she always looks out for the horses” She pursed her lips starting to get a annoyed at his irrational fury. “As mother would, she’s always picking up her childs messes”

“Well if she is such a great horse mom, how come her child is a freakin flower eating tornado” Grayson replied grudgingly, feeling like a scolded child for something he didn’t even do. Was he seriously talking about this horse like it was a person?

In the middle of his ire he looked down. Now that the sun was starting to illuminate the early morning he could see it had a kinda nice chesnut color and his beady ayes were staring eagerly at the daisies, that were just a few centimeters out of reach. If it hadn’t been such a nightmare Grayson could almost see himself looking for his allergy pill after petting the cute tiny thing. But it had messed with his garden and managed to get stuck, now he was going to have to ruin the chicken wire to cut him free. So no, Emeperos wasn’t all that cute anymore and after looking at the redish bite mark on his hand he definitely didn’t want to pet it. Lisa’s voice interrupted his musings.

“Listes, go put on you shoes, get yourself some breakfast and try to calm down. Denisse’s daughter shouldn’t be more than a few minutes away, I’ll look after him in the meantime”

“Oh no no, I’m gonna have a word with this chit and she’s gonna fix this immediately.”

Lisa was about to stop Grayson’s angry rambling until she spotted a rider and horse closing in on the house from the north trail.

“I mean, who the hell does she think she is? Letting her animals trample around and how long tilll-“

“Oh my Gosh! I’m so sorry Mrs Dolan I can’t believe he’s done this again.” A female voice rung melodically behind him accompanied by the resounding thudding of heavy hooves on grass. “Emperooor” the voice groaned “ what was it this time?”

Grayson knew that voice, and even if he had never heard her giving soft commands to her intimidating black stallion he would have recognized the feeling she stirred in him. That fluttering on the left side of his chest, the earthquake of butterflies in his stomach, that familiar sense of calmness that only her could bring him. 

Lisa´s voice brought him back from his momentary day dream.

“Well son it looks like your wish came true” she said so only he could hear and the raised her voice to greet the girl rapidly approaching them on horseback. “(Y/N) , sweetie, hello!”

Grayson turned around utterly speechless. Astounded by her beauty and awed by the mere sight of her as she dismounted  gracefully from the familiar black stud, who was actually saddled this time. 

She stepped away from the huge beast and walked towards where they were standing near the garden. With every step closer that she took Grayson felt his lungs closing up on him. What was I supposed to say to her, again? The mini horse, right. 

“I’m so sorry Mrs. Dolan. I don't know what to do with him anymore, ever since we moved up here he seems to find new ways to scape stalls and squeeze to fences daily” (Y/N) kept babbling out her sincere apologies while she come to hug the older woman whose garden had been vandalized by her favorite Shetland.

“(Y/N) I’ve told you a hundred times it’s Lisa, and don't worry about it I understand you mother is always telling me how hard you try to keep Emperor in check” She replied glaring slightly at Grayson whose jaw had fallen slightly ajar, she elbowed him discreetly bringing him back from whatever dreamland he was in. “Can't speak for the big man here though, he was a little distressed earlier”

As if he wasn't having a hard enough time (Y/N) shiny browns eyes peered up at him shyly stilling his lungs once again, and a lovely blush spread on her chubby cheeks. He followed the rosy trail with his eyes to the top of her round breasts wondering how far down her body would it reach. And when she spoke softly to him, he was a goner.

“Oh... I’m so sorry, I promise I will fix it up right away” When he didn't reply she added “I'm not as great as Lisa but I’m a pretty decent gardener, I swear its gonna look  brand new” Gosh, this was embarrassing. He was so handsome and she has just let her mini-horse ruin his mother's garden. 

Lisa’s elbow once again spooked him out of his catatonic state.

“Oh don’t be modest, I bet it’s gonna look better than before. Right, Gray?” Seeing the look in his eyes, she quickly decided that (Y/N) would have a little help fixing her plants. “Sweetie, I know you've made good friends with Cameron but I don't think you've met my sons before”

“No ma’am, I don't think I've had the pleasure” (Y/L) replied in a low voice very unlike herself.

“Okay this is Grayson and that nosy one with his head stuck out the window is his twin brother Ethan” (Y/N) glanced in the direction Lisa was pointing and sure enough there was buzz cut head sticking out the second floor window with a smirk plastered all over his angular face, ready to yell a greeting to his brother’s dream girls. Gray had described her so many times with so much detail that it was scary but it also allowed him to tell right away when he saw the curly haired girl atop the black horse.

“Why good morning Miss Horsey Neighbor (Y/L) it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance” Ethan yelled with a flirty smirk that he knew was sure to infuriate his twin.

“The pleasure is all mine, good sir” (Y/N) replied with a laugh, following along on his joke. Ethan seemed like a funny guy, she could see them becoming friends. The other brother though, they had the same sharp jawline and handsome features, but Grayson’s intense stare was definitely something else. She felt intimidated yet...exited?

Grayson stuck his hand out dumbly trying to get her attention back from his brother.

“I’m distressed and it’s okay, I wasn't Grayson” he vomited his words while trying to produce a smile that ended up looking like a grimace. (Y/L) offered him a blushy smile back none the less.

“It's a pleasure Distressed”

“Huh? Oh, fuck!” Nice job champ let her think you're fucking retarded “ it’s Grayson! I’m Grayson and  was not  distressed. I was just um...” He trailed off looking to his mom for help bur she merely shrugged “I was uh... worried! For the mini! Poor little guy just wanted a snack and ended up stuck in the chicken wire.” 

He stuttered and stumbled trough his explanation but (Y/N), who was usually very perceptive, was still so embarrassed and flustered that she didn't notice he was lying.

“Okay. So, he shouldn’tbe snacking on flowers, anyways, he knows that” (Y/N) mumbled walking towards Emperor who had stopped  struggling towards the white daisies and was now waiting for attention from his favorite human. “Alrighty pal, what did you get yourself into” She kneeled on the ground and started inspecting Emperor’s little hoof stuck on the wire. She tried to pull it out but it was too tight, the wire had tu be cut.

Meanwhile Grayson stared amazed at how the little horse devil had turned into horse putty in (Y/N)’s hands. His ears pointed towards and he rubbed his furry neck on her arm looking for scratches. No sign of the Shetland that had rudely attacked him earlier. He looked down at his hand and noticed that the bite mark was barely visible now, maybe Emperor wasn't that bad after all. Maybe.

“It’s too tight if we don't cut the wire he could hurt himself” (Y/N) announced looking up towards Lisa but the taught about it and directed her glance towards her son, who already had a cutting plier in his hand. “Do you think I can borrow that?”

“Yeah, sure, here you go” He was about to hand her the tool when Lisa widened her eyes at him at pointed her chin to the girl crouched con her garden. “Actually, let me do it” He corrected, kneeling down right next to her so that his strong shoulder thighs brushed against her blue jeans. He heard vaguely a big impatient snort behind but paid no mind to de large stallion that stood where (Y/N) had tied his reigns to the garden fence. The thing was so big it could probably pull the fence right off the soil, but instead stood patiently waiting for his master.

“I live in farm y’know I think I can manage a pair of pliers” She replied slightly annoyed that he wouldn't hand her the damned thing.

“Oh, don’t mind him honey he just loves playing with his tools” Lisa pitched in from above them. Grayson prayed nobody noticed his flushed face, but his nymph was deliciously close to him for the first time. Never before he had had the chance of perceiving her intoxicating scent, it was sweet almost like melted sugar right before it turns into caramel.

“I don’t play, ma! I build stuff”  He looked up at his mother with a look half annoyed/half pleading. “Besides, I’m sure you're more than capable of cutting some measly chicken wire, I just thought you could keep him calm so that-”

“Oh my God! You're totally right.”

“I am?”

“OF COURSE, he could run around as soon as he's free and continue to dismantle this poor place. Good thinking, Grayson” 

Was that even his name she just pronounce? He didn't remember ever sounding so good.

“Yup, yeah. That's it” Yeah I totally wasn't trying to show off for you, nymph.

(Y/N) resumed scratching Emperor with one hand while the other pushed on his neck  to give Grayson as much room to cut the wire as possible. Since the kids seemed to be getting along quite nicely Lisa decided to make herself scarce.

“Well guys I’m gonna get inside and make some breakfast” She received two distracted hums and with that she left, not without throwing a pointed glance up at Ethan who immediately stuck his head back inside.

A few minutes later Emperor was a free and happy Shetland. Since he had already eaten, clearly, she decided she could get a head start on the mess the mini had made before riding back home for breakfast. She attached a lead-rope she had brought to the his halter, that he was miraculously still wearing, and tied him to the fence. Grayson just watched her, still kneeling by the dirt bed, she moved so naturally between the mess.

“I’m so sorry, really. For the life of me I have no idea how he came to eat flowers  on the first place, I will bring over some seeds later but I’m gonna start cleaning this now, do you have some gardening tools I can borrow?” She was a little breathless after spurting out all of that, she was so nervous now that they were alone. 

He got up and dusted his sweatpants.

“Sure, they are in my building shed” He replied puffing out his already beefy chest, his building shed was his pride and joy. “Just let me grab my boots real quick”

“Oh that’s okay I ca-” but he was already running inside.

A few minutes later after running a hand through his hair numerous times to tame his bedhead in front of the living room mirror, they were walking a bit closer than necessary to the shed.

“So, you like building a lot?” At that Grayson put on full display his million dollar smile.

“You could say that” He said looking around the shed for the gardening toolbox.”I build my mom that garden, I mean me and my brother did it but he was more like an.. assistant” Grayson could have swooned when he heard her laughter but instead focused on grabbing the box from the top shelf. 

“Are you kidding? I could have sworn that was made by a professional?” She replied, seemingly impressed while they walked back. 

“Why thank you, n- (Y/N)” He put the box down next to the first overturned plant pot “I appreciate that” Oh he appreciated it, alright.

“You know, you don't need, it was my horse after all” she sat criss- cross and started rummaging trough the box.

This was it, Grayson needed to pull his shit together if he wanted to make a good first impression on this gorgeous nymph that was eagerly staring up at him, waiting for an answer that his dumbass was unable to produce. With his shaking hands conveniently hidden inside his pockets, he stared confidently into her deep brown eyes and pulled his most charming smile.

And then they got to work. All coquettish smiles, blushing faces and casual hand brushings. They talked about building, horses, video games and even the process of cultivating high quality sugar cane without using pesticides. Grayson was over the moon being the sole focus of her attention, he had waited so long for this. He watched  as she pulled away from her face the rebel curls that scaped from her ponytail wishing he could run his hands through the luscious strands and wondering if her round cheeks would be as soft as they looked if he were to touch them with his rough fingertips. He was so immersed in her that didn't realize that their work was done when they picked up the last of Emperors victims, the cayenne on the porch. 

Standing on the recently clean porch steps they took a minute to admire their hard work. Or at least for Grayson they were to admire her.

“Well, this is it, thank you so much for you help Gray, you didn't have to” Did she just called him by his nickname? He had to be dreaming.

“It’s okay” he murmured observing how she had to crane her neck up to look at him, she was such a shorty yet when she spoke she appeared larger than life. She was simply amazing. “Time flies when you're having fun” He replied while they started walking towards the horses that were snorting impatiently.

“It was kinda fun, wasn't it?” she untied the big black horse and with one hand she held Emperor’s lead rope while the other pulled on the saddle Horne making for a swift effortless mount. Grayson stood a few steps away looking at the stallion curiously. “You can come closer, Spirit is a perfect gentleman, he likes firm pats like this” He smiled at her demonstration and brought his own much larger right  hand to Spirit’s thick neck and let his left one rest cheekily above her knee.

“Spirit” he tested the name on his tongue “Is that his name?” he was looking up at her, for a change, and its was making her breath speed up.

“Well his registered name is actually Indomitable Spirit, my grandma rescued his mom with a poachers arrow on her side” (Y/N) cringed at the memory of the beautiful mare covered in blood “She didn’t have any hoseshoes and her teeth looked like they had never been floated, she was skittish around people... but not as much as the tipycal wild horse. It was like she was scared but she still wanted something from us. Then we realized it was because she was heavily pregnant, it only took us a couple of days to figure out she was close to due date. A month later she gave birth to the most adorable foal with a coat as black as onyx stone” Grayson basked in the glow of her radiant smile remembering how her horse came to this world.  And when her face fell, his did too.“It was a  difficult labor and she wasn't fully healed yet from her old wounds. The blood loss was fatal, she was too weak to even stand but she pushed through until she was done and the she just closed her eyes and never opened them again. Later on we confirmed she was a mustang so we named him in her honor. You know, most pregnant mares are nightmares, but not her, it was like she knew we would take care of her baby.” She paused at the dreamy look on his face ”Sorry, you probably didn't need the whole pony tale story, I blabber a lot sometimes... a lot of times, actually.”

“No its fine its fine,” he replied hurriedly “I love it, I mean, the story- its quite beautiful,”

“Glad you liked it” She blushed again and Grayson could have pulled her down from the saddle right then and there to cover her cute ass face with kisses, but he contained himself and tried to focus on what she was saying. “Again I’m so sorry about the garden”

“Actually, now I’m looking forward to Emperor’s next great scape if that means i get to hang out with you ” There it was, he had laid out the bait, he could only pray she take it.

“That could very well happen, but I would hate to destroy your garden again” She chuckled nervously

“It would be worth it if I can see you again, soon” The hand on her knee squeezed and his eyes stared hopeful into hers. “Or maybe, we could just grab some vegan ice cream sometime”

“That sounds nice” She started turning her horse around to hide her very obvious blush, but he saw it and it had his heart fluttering and a big cheesy smile appearing on his face. 

“Vegan ice-cream it is, then”

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours.

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: non-idol AU, hapkido teacher AU

Word count: 2.8K

Short description: You and Baekhyun are young sweethearts coming from the far countryside. You don't have much money when you move to Seoul but what you have is unlimited amount of love for each other. You both want a family. But falling pregnant as a young woman with little money was not what you planned for. Neither of you.

a/n: Completely unplanned, but found myself enjoying the plotting as I got deeper into it. It's been a heck of a while since I last wrote, sorry if it isn't the best, but I can promise a ride if you give me support!! 💟🤗

Prologue

Living a simple life wasn't that type of a simple life you saw on YouTube, produced with pretty looking human beings that had all it takes to lead a well-off life. Pretty looking faces, or sometimes not shown, were exchanged to the simplicity of the overpriced items purchased through companies who lived off well of few purchases of their customers.

In general, a Korean citizen would watch at least one  “simple life” tagged video on social media and then share it on KakaoTalk mostly to their female friends.

Going to coffee shops? Oh, let me show you the tea.

Going to overpriced coffee shops (doesn't matter how fancy or not), still proved how it was going against the entire idea of a simplistic life that these people so proudly exclaimed they were living.

Unfortunately, you could see the harsh difference. No, you could feel it. Coming from a village, a countryside, made you feel how different you can be in a massive city, and not in a pleasant way. Be it the clothing style, the skin colour, the wildness in the eyes, the accent, the shape of your mouth, the shape of your feet… It could be spotted in the slightest of ways possible, and for sure a city person at heart would notice right away.

Thankfully, the small apartment in the middle of Seoul, just close enough to Konkik University would suffice. You and Baekhyun were still very young. While he was pursuing his PhD in sports management, coming from solid hapkido background, you couldn't continue with your studies and just joined full-time working attire in a law company. Being an assistant wasn't something you dreamed of doing, however you never belonged to people that required a lot in order to be happy.

This way you could manage to survive from month to month, Baekhyun teaching hapkido classes for kids as well as university students, preparing to become a hapkido professor, which would enable you to buy more expensive food, or new clothes from time to time.

Receiving a scholarship from Sungkyungwan University was something you always knew he would get, but he himself didn't believe in himself enough to think that, as much as it is hard to believe, judging from his cheeky personality that you knew so well.

You were extremely happy for him, of course. You both grew up on the countryside, both of you coming from humble backgrounds, and knowing him since high school, you always thought he would be the one who makes it far. 

And he did.

No matter what the problem was, he solved it. He was, what the city ladies called, a “real man”. Be it plumbing, broken heel on your shoe, cutting wood… He knew how to mend it all, how to put it together.

He knew how to love you. Be it passionate, gentle, rough, sensitive, soft, quiet, loud… He could give it all, to you. Without him, the air wasn't as breathable, the food as tasty, the smile as contagious, the human touch as warm, and the light as light.

He could do many things. In a simple world. Where you both came from. You were not the perfect woman from the magazines, yet he was next to you. Fitting into you. Giving you his all. For years. He was Baekhyun.

He could make you feel the earth shake, the water crash on the rocks, the clouds swimming on a baby-blue sky, the hot desert sunset, the avalanche.

And, he did.

And that was your love. In a simple world.

.1.

Waking up to a dark room, you felt slight sweat forming around your neck, the air being too hot under the stuffy blankets and a hot body behind you. The fan was turned on, despite the Koreans being scared of it, as it may kill, but screw it. Villagers were fighting for survival, not for comfort and clean conscience.

Carefully untangling from Baekhyun's body, you quietly slipped out of the bed, your nightgown falling around your thighs that were slightly hurting from the upcoming period. As much as you wished to lie in bed and enjoy Baekhyun's presence, you wanted to make fresh breakfast to start off both of your days well.

Baekhyun grumbled in his sleep, blindly searching with his hand for your warmth, but fruitlessly. Eventually, he always ended up moving his body on your side of the bed, finding your gentle smell so calming, it would lull him back to sleep.

Smiling to yourself, you closed the door behind you, appearing in the kitchen that was combined with a very small living room. They were all in one room, basically. Thankfully, you could do some nice changes to the flat in a cheap manner and you didn't mind tightening your belt for a few weeks. You could walk to many places as well, Seoul transportation was pricey anyway.

Starting with the vegetables, you moved swiftly around the little kitchen, preparing the breakfast into cute bowls that you made yourself when you were attending pottery class during your high school years.

It might sound like it had been a long time, but you graduated from high school only a four years ago. You spent your first year at home, working at your parents farm, helping out Baekhyun's parents, and searching for a good enough job until you received the amazing news about Baekhyun's scholarship at Sungkyungkwan and in your second year after finishing high school, you were in Seoul, living in a tiny flat but a flat that was full of love.

Coffee was done just when you felt a sleepy presence behind you that soon made itself known by giving your exposed neck a gentle, loving kiss. “Good morning.”

His raspy voice and hot breath on your skin sent shivers down your spine. You turned quickly, broad smile on, throwing your arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the lips. “My man, morning.”

Baekhyun chuckled, endearing look on his face as he circled his hands around your waist. His forehead pressed to yours. “I am looking forward to the class today.”

You sighed, satisfied. “I am happy to hear that. You love those kids, I don't know how you do it.”

“They are playful, like my jokes, like to mess.”

You snorted a laugh, opening your eyes. “Well, I also like to do those things and yet…” you trailed off, playing the victim.

“Yet what?” he exclaimed, shocked.

“Yet you don't come and play.”

Baekhyun honestly laughed out loud at your sour face expression.

“After everything I do for you,” you added, sighing heavily, eyeing all the food in plates, neatly placed, probably qualified for a food decorating competition.

“Wah! Hold on, hold on, young lady,” he said, grabbing you tighter, bringing you closer. “What is this supposed to mean?” he asked quietly, staring into your eyes. “Why is my lady not happy?”

Pursing your lips, you pretended to think hard. “Well, I do have a hard time at work, sitting, running around my boss,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes at the mention of your boss, “running errands, yet none of them are for me. A massage and a little pampering wouldn't be bad.”

Baekhyun knew you were teasing him big time.

He knew you in a different way than what you were showing most of the time. You were an extremely tough woman, heart of steel but gentle, soft and completely crazy only for him. He knew it so well. You would never be able to fool him with "this is too hard for me" kind of attitude; you qualified for a man. Thank God he knew hapkido, how else would he protect himself?!

“Exactly, my dear. Those kids don't want pampering from me, don't want massages from me. They want to genuinely play,” he said, whispering the last sentence.

“Then, I want to play, too. Genuinely.”

He kissed you slowly but oh, so sensually right then and there.

You did have a point. Both of you have been stuck in a weird stereotype, running and coming from work, eating, having a cozy evening if you managed to get home on time. Otherwise your boyfriend would be swamped with books, researches, cramming English last minute since his final research had to be written in English (screw village high schools for not giving proper attention to English language and screw Baekhyun for not giving a shit in undergrad and grad school about English classes and missing chances to bond with international students) and you would try to get better at your work by reading various business books from the library or watch some videos about how to become more self-confident and sell yourself.

Gosh, what a competitive world you lived in. It was the exact opposite to the village life where kimchi make-out sessions were a must in autumn, cherry blossom tree picnics with freshly made kimbap a tradition, wild-lake swimming and love-making under the moonlight… The world where only things like those mattered. To have a loved one by your side and deal with difficulties together.

After a full make-out session, you separated, both of you panting for air, both of you panting for much more than what time was allowing you in that moment. “Like this?” he breathed, his focus on your swollen lips that you were now biting.

You giggled quietly and untangled yourself from him to grab his mug from the counter. “Not quite.” Handing him his coffee, you smiled. “I'm sure when the evening comes, you will know what I meant.”

He chuckled. “You should have just told me right away that you want to have sex.”

Your eyes widened at the use of words, not liking to call it like that.

He laughed even more at your expression, taking the bowl with rice in his free hand and sitting down on the floor to the small table. “Always so innocent, my love.”

Tinted red cheeks puffed up, not meeting his eyes, that was your hidden self only he witnessed. How long have you been together? Was it five years? Six? God, you were only 23 now. Baekhyun 27. You only had him. He was your first, and you always wanted him to be your last.

After fast but playful breakfast, you both rushed to get ready, Baekhyun packing his hapkido uniform, you quickly ironing your skirt on the mattress you slept on.

“I have to rush, I am late,” shouted Baekhyun as he was ready to open the door, dressed in his sports clothes, his backpack thrown over one shoulder. “Will you be alright, darling?”

“Sure, sure,” you said loudly, so he could hear you. “Be careful, please! No rush! And drink your water!”

You heard him laugh quietly before shouting one big “I love you” and closing the door behind him.

Taking quickly your lunch, you also rushed to catch the bus. It was crazily crowded and you always ended up groaning inwardly at the sight of queued up people. You rushed only to rush more. Amazing.

Seoul, you pleaded, you better be worth it.

^^

Arriving at your work place, you managed to sit down at your desk just as the clock stroke 9.00am. Perfect. Next time it could be at least 10 minutes earlier, so you could get some time to relax and start your day slowly.

Your colleague, Sukyeong, was handing you your herbal tea you always had in the first hour of the work time. “Even when you are late you still manage to be on time.”

You chuckled, thanking her as you warmed your hands with the hot cup. “I don't like this type of preciseness.”

“God, just like Jongdae,” she snorted, sitting back down on her chair.

Snickering, you commented: “I thought that's why you married him?”

“I adore him,” she exclaimed, laughing quietly. “A perfectionist. Maybe a bit too much.”

You really liked Sukyeong, and thought it was about time to call her a real friend in the big world that was called Seoul. You both already managed to go out together, you getting some proper time with a girlfriend, Baekhyun getting his alone time at home. And the other time you managed to go out together with Baekhyun and Jongdae at the same time and it was even more surprising to find out Jongdae and Baekhyun became good friends.

You were about to reply when the boss's door opened, surprising you momentarily, causing you to spill the scorching tea straight on your skirt. You kept in your hiss, pressing your lips together as you raised to bow to him.

“Good morning, sir.”

Your boss was a not the tallest man, smaller than Baekhyun, but definitely much older and, well, fatter. Even now, his white shirt could barely hold the buttons together, obviously having another jjajangmyeon night with soju yesterday.

“Miss Y/L/N, could you please come to my office?” he asked, his eyes dropping on the wet spot of the herbal tea, just around the middle of the skirt. It was sticking to your thigh.

You bowed your head, wordlessly following. As he turned his back on you, you quickly shot Sukyeong a questioning look, to which she shrugged, not understanding what could his weird mood be about.

The doors behind you closed, and your boss took his seat behind his messy desk. He motioned with his hand for you to do the same, and you did. The couch was a bit too low, causing your knees to be high up, your skirt hiking up. Nonchalantly, you tried to push the silly skirt down before your boss spoke.

“Kang Bina was fired yesterday,” he started without a foreword.

This was surprising. “Really? How come? She was doing so well.”

Your boss snickered, disgusted. “She got pregnant. Why would I keep her?”

Your throat went dry for a second as you processed his words. Your heartbeat went up. “Excuse me, sir, but how-”

“We do not employ you, young ladies, fresh out of university, just for you to get pregnant and then leave your company short on staff. It is ineffective, we don't need such useless workforce.”

Useless workforce? A pregnant woman? Excuse me?

You were barely two minutes in his office and you felt like a bottle of icy cold water was thrown at you.

Before you could speak, he broke the tensed silence. “That is why I called you in, deary.” Pause. Shudder. Deary. “I am pleased to inform you, that you earned yourself a promotion! Your first. Since you started working here,” he added, obviously proud of himself. Then, he smiled grimly at you. “Actually, it is your very first promotion, since you are so young, so beautiful and so inexperienced.” He made himself comfortable in the big office chair, it squeaking from heavy load. “You will take Bina's spot.”

You were just speechless. Bina had a higher position, being a personal assistant to this piece of a fat human flesh sitting in front of you. He even picked her up every morning and drove her home. A “privilege”, he called it at that time.

“You don't have a boyfriend yet, correct?” he asked, more himself than you. You shook your head no. It went unnoticed. “Well, anyhow, you better not get pregnant in the upcoming...hmm...10 years? Nah, make it 20. Looking at you, your qualities would get only better, so you won't miss out. And I can't have such a beautiful employee leave so early.”

“Sir, about this-”

“It is a privilege,” he emphasized, looking directly at you. “Plus, let's not forget the salary raise.”

You shut your mouth.

Money raise.

More money.

You could help Baekhyun out more.

Your stupid salary that couldn't even cover properly the food for one month would now be just enough. If you calculated properly (you did most of the time), you could afford a small trip to spas, a KTX ride back home to the countryside, some new electronics for the apartment. You could apply for mortgage and make a dream home.

It is true it was already a dream home. With Baekhyun anything was ideal.

But becoming pregnant with his child? Making a family like you always wanted? The idea caught you off guard, not like you haven't fantasized about it for years. It was an idea that sent you into immediate shivers, electric shocks running through your veins, it made you want him much more, it made you want him to make love to you right in that instant. You went crazy just at the pure thought of bearing his child. Your secret dream of being a mother. As simple as that.

No massive house, no position of high importance. Just a home full of children's laughter and your husband's love. Baekhyun's love.

“You don't really have a choice, Y/N, but I still have to ask - do you accept?” Your boss raised his left eyebrow at you, challenging.

No pregnancy. For now.

Your unsaid dream broke, but you believed you could build up on it later; prepare a solid financial base for your children in the far future.

You nodded, making your boss laugh.

_____

a/n: If you could leave a comment, I would be grateful And maybe upload much faster the next part. That is if you think this story and me are worth it! 💟

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Black and Blue - One

Pairing: Detective Loki x Reader

Summary: She saw the world in black and blue

Requested: Nope

Chapter Warnings: Some swearing I think??, panic attack

A/N: so guys... there’s been a lot leading up to this yaknow - the first part of my Detective Loki series!! I’m so excited to share this with all of you at last, I’m really looking forward to this series (I say series but I mean miniseries there’s not gonna be that many parts) but please remember to let me know what you think of it!!! Like, reblog, comment, send asks because they really inspire me to write more and I love talking to you guys :)

Two // Three // Four // Five

Y/N Y/L/N saw the world in black and blue.

Purple and yellow.

Bruised and unbruised.

Moving to Conyers had been simultaneously the scariest thing she had ever done and the best thing.

Every step she took in Conyers felt like a triumph. Every time she would turn the key to her apartment it felt like she had accomplished something great.

And yet so much of her believed it was too good to be true.

The bakery was her haven. The bread her safe place, the brownie’s her comfort, the pastries her joy.

She made friends. Regular customers would come in and ask her how she was doing, but not in the way that she was accustomed to. No sympathetic head tilt, no unsure smiles, no tiptoeing around the truth.

Y/N liked that. The unknowing. The blank space she could fill now with baked goods.

The kids loved her. And the teenagers. Mainly because she gave them free food when they came in looking too stressed or too sad - she remembered that that was like.

And that was how she met the Dovers.

///

“Good morning Y/N!” Grace chirped as she ushered her family into the bakery. Y/N turned away from the oven, hot tray still in hand.

“Morning!” She beamed.

“That smells good,” Grace told her as Y/N placed the tray down.

“It’s a new recipe I’m trying out - well, not really a new one, my grandma usd to make it for me but always refused to give me the recipe,” she laughed. Anna’s nose was pressed up against the glass, her eyes searching the Aladdin’s cave o sweet delights.

“It looks good,” Keller confirmed, his hands coming to rest almost protectively on Anna’s shoulders.

“What are they?” Ralph asked curiously.

“Cardamon cookies,” Y/N told him, filling up a box with the Dovers’ usual order.

“So, Thanksgiving tomorrow, any place?” Grace asked, looking through her wallet distractedly. Y/N winked at Anna and Ralph as she snuck four of the still-hot cardamon cookies into the the box, knowing that Grace and Keller would protest and insist upon paying.

“I don’t celebrate it,” Y/N admitted with a laugh.

“Why?” Anna asked, staring at the box in Y/N’s hand.

“It’s not really a thing back home,” Y/N shrugged, her mind wandering back to snapshots of the childhood she had left behind in the wide, green expanse of the English countryside.

She missed home more than she would never allow herself to admit.

“You should spend it with us!” Grace said with a warm smile. Y/N looked up in surprise to see Keller nodding along in agreement.

“We always go to the Birches and spend it there but they wouldn’t mind you joining us,” Keller added.

“That’s a lovely offer but I don’t want to intrude,” Y/N argued, walking over to the coffee machine.

“You wouldn’t be! Nancy always makes too much food anyway,” Grace promised her.

“Please come, Miss Y/N,” Anna added with wide-eyed innocence.

Y/N hesitated, looking around at the Dovers who were watching her expectantly. She let out a long sigh before conceding with a nod of her head.

“Okay.”

Perhaps it was time for her to allow herself to leave her haven for a little while.

///

Nothing in the world could have ever prepared her for this.

The rest of the evening had been bordering on perfect. The Birches had welcomed her with open arms, their enthusiasm only increasing when they realised she had come laden with three pumpkin pies and cream.

She had done her usual trick of skirting around Keller and Franklin as best she could by offering Nancy help in the kitchen, which had been accepted with great appreciation.

When dinnertime conversation had, somewhat inevitably, turned to her she spoke of her plans for turning her little bakery into more of a cafe with tables and chairs and an array of drinks rather than just coffee. She caught herself before it was too late, though, heat crawling up her cheeks as she turned the conversation back around to the subject of the Birches’ home, something which she knew to be safe territory.

Then, instead of heading home as so much of her was screaming to do, she squashed her nerves down into a tiny box, deciding to them them there for the evening and not let them dictate her life for the first time in a while.

Not let him dictate her life.

Instead, she had joined the group  of parents in the living room, talking and laughing over subjects not quite appropriate for conversations with kids present.

And then, so quickly, everything had gone wrong.

She went with Grace back to her home to look for Anna and Joy. She caught her when Grace almost fell on her weak, Bambi-like legs upon not finding the two young girls and allowed the older woman to cry her worry into her for a moment.

Y/N had been the one to call the police.

The families were too distraught, their words too shaky, their voices too close to tears for them to explain the situation to the operator.

When Ralph had begged her to stay she knew there was no way that she could deny him that. Not when his parents were in the state that they were.

Y/N made buckets of tea.

That was her solution to everything. A band aid of liquid. For months of her life she had filled herself up on tea, painting her insides pale brown to cover up the bleak darkness that lay underneath. The delicate aromas doing their best to replace the undeniable stench that she would never totally be able to loose.

She was her mother’s daughter in the tea brewing.

It was only once they had gotten the call to say that the police had caught the driver of the RV that Y/N went home.

She had expected that to be the end of it, her part in the whole drama should have been over seeing as though she was just a friend of the families rather than a relation of either girl. But she got a phone call early the next morning from the detective working the case saying that she needed to come in to five a statement and be put through a lie detector test.

Y/N had agreed pretty much immediately, though there was no denying how her palms instantly became sweaty, recalling the last time that she had been taken to a police station.

The last time she had been put through a lie detector.

Back home.

Her knee bounced insistently up and down as she sat in the waiting room of the police station. Her eyes darted sporadically around the room, seeing everything but taking in nothing.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m Detective Loki, we spoke on the phone?” Y/N stood as the tall man addressed her, taking his offered hand with a quick, nervous shake before dropping it back to the other, tangling her fingers together. Her eyes fixed on his lips as they moved to form words, not daring to raise them higher than that.

“Yes, of course. Just Y/N is fine, though,” she responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Right. Follow me,” Y/N did as instructed, her mind wandering as they walked seemingly endlessly down the hallways of the police station, only rarely crossing anyone else.

She wanted to ask how long it would take - she had a shipment arriving of tables, chairs and another coffee machine that she had placed weeks ago but had been continually delayed. She needed to be there when it arrived but she didn’t want to ask the detective anything.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Loki said, gesturing for her to take the seat on the opposite side of the table to him, next to the man operating the lie detector.

Y/N didn’t need a lit detector to hear the untruth in his voice. 

“Not as all,” she promised softly, her eyes fixing now on the grimy table between them.

“I just have a few questions for you about last night,” he opened his notepad and Y/N nodded.

“Anything to help,” she tried to hide how her breath quickened.

Her eyes moved from their placed locked on the table to search the room for an escape.

Just in case, she told herself.

Old habits die hard.

The first few questions were standard, simple answered that Y/N was used to having to answer by now. She pushed down the memories that tried to come to the surface as best she could, squeezing her eyes closed desperately.

“Is there something wrong, Miss Y/L/N?” Loki broke off from questioning to ask the woman. Y/N swallowed thickly and shook her head.

“No,” her voice was hoarse. “I arrived late to the meal because I had to close up shop,” she answered the previously asked question, wishing herself as far away from the police station as possible. There was a pause from the detective and Y/N hated herself for her panic causing a break in questioning.

He had to find the girls as quickly as possible and she didn’t want to be the reason for the investigation to be slowed down even just a little bit.

“Right.” Loki said unsurely and from the corner of her eye, Y/N saw the lie detector operator shrug his shoulders. “And where is it that you work?”

“The bakery up the road.”

The remainder of the interview passed in a blur with Y/N answering questions almost on autopilot.

She stumbled out of the confined room as soon as she was unhooked from the machine and crashed against the wall of the hallway, pressing her back to it and desperately gasping for breath. She slid down the wall to the floor, her eyes squeezed tight shut as she desperately attempted to gain control of her breathing. She pressed her forehead to her knees, willing herself to calm down, wishing herself away from the police station and from all the memories it forced to the surface.

She wasn’t trapped anymore.

[shochmonster]

84 Questions

original: https://fuckyeahsurveys.tumblr.com/post/61049002526/84-questions

Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs Guns of Brixton - The Clash Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys  Chainsaw - Nick Jonas California - Joni Mitchell Make It Wit Chu - Queens of the Stone Age This Woman’s Work - Kate Bush The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys Between the Bars - Eliot Smith Drown - The Smashing Pumpkins Different People - No Doubt

If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Would you take anyone with you? I’d take @duoloopo to the UK. I’d like to see places other than London.

What is your preferred writing implement? (eg. Blue pen, pencil, green pen)  I use my iPad stylus the most, but I have this heavy mechanical pencil I really like for drawing. 

Favourite month and why? October. I just love the fall vibe. 

Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)? List them. I went to undergraduate school with Rebecca Sugar. We used to ride the bus between NYC and DC together on holidays. 

Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are. Can of seltzer, pencil case, stack of bills

What brand logo is closest to you currently? REAL Skateboards

Do you ever play board games or other non-computer games? Got any favourites? I love Small World and Munchkin. 

A musical artist you love that isn’t well known Laura Stevenson and the Cans

A musical artist you love that is well known Red Hot Chili Peppers

What is your desktop background currently? Thomas Barrow on the beach in the Season 4 Christmas Special

Last person you talked to, and through what you talked to them @duomaxwell02 with my face :O 

First colour name you can think of that isn’t in the rainbow White

What timekeeping devices are in the room you are currently in? Two wall clocks, though one is very old and doesn’t wind anymore. I also have a clock @duoloopo ‘s dad made for me. It’s on the piano. 

What kind of headphones do you use? JBL Bluetooth, noise canceling 

What musical artists have you seen perform live? Foo Fighters (3x), Incubus (3x), Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, Audioslave, Justin Timberlake, Troy Sivan, Arctic Monkeys, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Queen (but with Roger Daughtry, not Freddy... for obvious reasons.). Probably a whole bunch of others I’m blanking on. 

Does virginity matter to you? Not really. 

What gaming consoles do you or your family own? PS4, PS2, PS1, XBox 360, N64, Gamecube, Wii, NES, SNES, various Gameboys, Nintendo DS, PSP

What pets do you have? What are their names? Two cats, Hemingway and Renji

What’s the best job you’ve ever had? I like freelance art gigs the best. As for ‘normal people jobs’, I once was a sign painter for Whole Foods. That was pretty fun, minus the work drama. 

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? Food service. 

What magazines do you read, if any? I’ll pick up Time once in a while

Inspiration behind your URL? My classic original URL was LinkWorshiper and had been since AIM first existed. I picked it because Zelda was the first fandom I ever joined. Now I’ve changed all my handles (except on AO3) to reflect my actual name, as my literary agent thinks it’s more professional. 

Inspiration behind your blog title? Mean Girls. I always chuckle imagining Thomas and Jimmy as some Edwardian version of the Plastics. 

Favourite item of clothing? My Downton livery waistcoat. And the stiff bosomed shirt and collars I have to go with it. 

Are you friends with any exes? Nah. By the time I felt comfortable enough to possibly try, I also didn’t care enough to. 

Name at least one book you loved as a child. His Dark Materials (the trilogy by Philip Pullman). I still love them and am jazzed that he’s writing more these days. 

What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English) US English, mostly a northeastern dialect/accent

What email service do you use? Gmail

Is there anything hanging on the walls of the room you are currently in? So much stuff. I have a mood board full of Downtons stuff over my desk, various DA posters and memorabilia, plus some artwork I’ve done, and some of my JC Leyendecker collection. The aforementioned wall clocks, a San Francisco cable car bell, Sailor Moon and a few other little knickknacks, like my hamsa. To name a few lol. 

What’s your favourite number, and why? 212 because it’s Manhattan’s area code and also because it used to be the notation for one of my favorite ships in an old fandom. 

Earliest moment in your life you can remember? Sitting under the table and looking at my grandma, who was wearing a Cruella Deville dress she’d knit herself. Like, it had the actual Disney character on it. Pretty cool to a little guy, I guess!

What did you have for dinner yesterday? Quesadilla 

How often do you brush your teeth? Whenever they feel gross

What’s your favourite candy/chocolate? Lately, I’ve been into Junior Mints. 

Have you had other blogs on Tumblr? Do you have any other blogs currently? This blog used to have my old handle, linkworshiper. I did a small Whole Foods blog when I worked with them, but it never went anywhere. 

If you were suddenly really hungry, what would you choose to eat? Sushi

What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of? Downton Abbey, though lately I’ve been crazy busy and not as active as I once was. Casually still poking at old fandoms like Zelda and Gundam Wing to name a few. 

If you could study anything, what would it be? More art education can’t hurt. Maybe some formal history education. 

Do you use anything on your lips? (eg. Chapstick, gloss, balm, lipstick) Chapstick 

How would you describe your sense of humour? Seinfeld 

What things annoy you more than anything else? Mouth noises

What kind of position are you in at the moment? Sitting

Do you wear much jewellery? Nope

Who is the leader of your country, currently? Any other levels of government with leaders? (State, region, province, county, district, municipality, etc) Three supposedly equal branches of government, currently being run into the ground by a clown 

Last 3 blogs on your dashboard, not including any of your own @halcyondaze @mab1905 @lavender-hued-melancholy

What do you carry your money in? I try to never carry cash, but I carry a small wallet 

Do you enjoy driving? Why or why not? I like it but sometimes it feels like a chore, especially during a commute. @duoloopo thinks I’m a shit driver so she tries to drive whenever she can, which has pluses and minuses. 

Longest drive you have ever been on? Savannah GA to San Francisco, CA in a UHaul

Furthest away from home you have ever been? Germany 

How many times have you moved house? God, I don’t even know. More than ten. 

What is on the floor of the room you’re currently in, not including furniture? Cat toys, unused canvases

How many devices do you own which can access the internet? Phone, computer, iPad, various game consoles 

Is there is anything that is guaranteed to always make you happy? Thomas and Jimmy <3 <3 

Is there anything that always makes you sad? Thinking too hard about being a failure

What programs do you currently have open? I just rebooted, so only Chrome, Spotify and Photoshop

What do you associate the colour red with? This line in the Kate Bush Song Blue Symphony, which goes, ‘I associate love with red, the color of my heart when she’s dead.’ 

Last strong smell you can remember smelling? The Greek food I ordered in for dinner

Last healthy thing you ate? Roasted veggies

Do you drink tea or coffee, and how much per day? I prefer tea, and I drink coffee for energy, though sometimes I think it just makes me crash harder. 

What do you associate the colour blue with? The sky

How long is the closest ruler you can find? 12 inches

What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing? Dark blue

When was the last time you drank water? About a minute ago

How often do you clear your browser history? Rarely

Do you believe nude photos can be artistic, rather than erotic? Yes

Ever written fanfiction for anything? Oh God, yes. You can still find it under Link Worshiper on AO3, though some of my ‘classics’ have been removed since I turned them into original manuscripts 

Last formal event you attended My cousin’s wedding

If you had to move your birthday to another date, which one would you choose and why? Maybe inch my birth year up just by two so that I’d stop being called a damn millennial. At my age, I really just don’t relate to the generation even though technicalities make me a part of it. 

Would you prefer to be at a beach or in the countryside? Beach

Roughly how many people live in your town? 52,000

Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Leonard Nimoy :D 

Favourite place to shop? Can be a certain store or a place where there are multiple stores I haven’t really gone shopping since the pandemic. Right now, it feels like the only place to buy anything is Amazon XD

Do you have a smartphone? What kind? If you don’t, do you want one? Samsung. It’s not a Galaxy but is a new model and a fraction of the price. 

What is your least favourite colour, and why? I don’t think I dislike any colors honestly. 

How do you spell grey/gray? Grey. I’ve got too many British online associates to ever go back. 

Go to your dashboard and describe the image shown in the radar section (below the “Find blogs” link) It’s Umbrella Academy fanart of Klaus. He’s in black and white with this hands over his eyes and the background is red. It’s very graphic. 

What difference is there between how many followers you have, and the number of blogs you follow? 736

How many posts do you have? 8,859

How many posts have you liked? I can’t find the stat D: 

Do you post mainly reblogs, or your own content? Mainly reblogs but I pepper in my own content when I can. Lately, I haven’t had time to do as much fanart though, and I kind of feel like it’s not worth bothering to post my original stuff. Nobody follows my blog for that. 

Do you track any tags? No. 

What time is it currently? 7:33 PM CMT

Is there anything you should be doing right now? Waking up @duoloopo. TIME TO JUMP ON THE BED. 

tagging, if they feel like it: @abbys-little-whippersnapper​ @bumblebarrow​ @irrationalgame​ @downtoncat​ @mab1905​ @duoloopo​

and everyone who I’ve forgotten

[maaaddiexo]

Chapter Three | Peter Pevensie

[Red Series Book One: Roses]

Synopsis: With World War Two ravaging the world, no one is safe and no one is happy.

Despite their protests, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie are evacuated from London and sent to live in the English countryside with an old professor. Scared and unhappy, only the youngest Pevensie child remains optimistic and ends up sharing her hope with her siblings in the form of a wardrobe that takes them to Narnia, a different world where they are the only form of hope to bring an end to an evil witch's reign of terror.

Rosemary Bennett has no more hope left in her heart. Her brother and father are off fighting for their country, the former having gone missing months ago, and her mother ignores her, preferring the company of a bottle over her own daughter. Giving up seems the only logical plan of action. But when it finally comes to carrying it out, she's transported to a different world, with talking animals and a prophecy that doesn't involve her. Unsure as to why she is there, she must navigate a new world and ponder the possibility that maybe - just maybe - she doesn't actually want to die.

*Warning: this book deals with depression and suicide. Though mental illness isn't what this story revolves around, the act of suicide and depressive thoughts are intertwined with the plot and act as 'backseat drivers' to the novel.

*mentions of mental illness, depression and (attempted) suicide

[Chapter Four] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Red sky at night, sailor's delight.

Red sky at morn, sailors take warn.

It was a small rhyme that Rosemary could remember her father telling her when he first took her out fishing with him and Daniel. As she had watched the sun rise earlier that morning, she watched as red bled into the sky and knew what was coming.

After lacing up her tall boots, Rosemary slipped into her green peacoat and pulled out her braided hair from underneath the collar. Once she was sure she was set, she placed the folded letter on the kitchen counter next to an unopened bottle of scotch. She wanted her mother to find her letter but not until she was far enough away where she couldn't be found and stopped in time.

Quietly, slipping out the door, Rosemary walked away from her home and into the rain. The walk to the cliffside was no more than twenty minutes, and the storm had yet to hit. It was simply windy and rainy, neither of which bothered Rosemary - especially now. Her tears blended in with the rain and the wind quickly dried them up only to be replaced by more tears and raindrops.

When she finally arrived at the cliffside, she paused. If the weather were better, it would look like her dream. If the sky was clearer, would the water be as blue as the sea in her dreams? For a moment, Rosemary faltered, doubting herself.

Was she really about to do this?

But Rosemary knew the answer. She couldn't go back to an empty house where her mother purposely ignored her and she was faced every day with the possibility that her brother and father may not be returning. So yes, she was about to do this.

Walking forward until she was at the edge of the cliffside, Rosemary looked up to the heavens and let the sobs loose. She'd been holding them back for so long and now with the wind and rain and no one around, she was free to yell and cry and scream. No one would hear her. Thunder rumbled above her and the rain pelted harder against her skin. The storm was above her and she didn't have a care in the world.

She was ready.

Lost in the roar of the storm and the crashing waves below, Rosemary looked up to the sky one last time and whispered, "I love you". And then she stepped forward.

•

The water was ice cold, knocking the breath out of Rosemary immediately. Her coat and shoes weighed her down, pulling her to the bottom faster. It would've made things a lot more difficult for her had she been trying to get to the surface but she wasn't. And even if she wanted to, she couldn't swim. Which was why drowning seemed the best way to go - she couldn't turn back.

Rosemary let herself sink further and further and the little light that still reached her diminished slowly. Her ears and lungs felt like they could pop at any moment, but Rosemary knew that it would soon be peaceful, and she would be gone.

When Rosemary could no longer take the pressure and felt like a balloon about to pop, she closed her eyes and took a breath.

•

"Oh come on! Breathe!"

Rosemary sat up sputtering. Water dripped from her nose and mouth as she fought to get oxygen into her waterlogged lungs. A small hand alternated between patting and rubbing her back until she calmed down.

"Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were dead!" The voice was loving and high-pitched. It had that distinctive motherly note to it - one Rosemary's mother used to use on her.

"Wait, I'm not dead?" And why is it so bloody cold?

"Of course not. Although, you would have been had I pulled you out of the river any later. Silly girl," the voice patronized, though there was no harshness in her voice. "What were you thinking?"

Tears welled in Rosemary's eyes. She was thinking about dying. She wanted to die. She tried to die. And yet she had failed and someone had somehow pulled her out of the river. Wait - river? Rosemary had jumped into the English Channel which was attached to the sea. It surely wasn't a river.

For the first time, Rosemary looked up and gasped at the sight in front of her. She had no clue where she was, but it definitely wasn't England. Everywhere she looked was white. Every surface in sight was covered in an untouched blanket of snow.

"Where am I?" Her voice was quiet, and broke as she spoke.

"Why, you're in Narnia, my dear. Are you alright?" The body the voice belonged to came around to face to Rosemary and she screeched at what she saw. It was a beaver. "Deary? Are you alright?"

"You...you're a beaver."

"Well, obviously," the female beaver chuckled. "I don't really look like anything else, do I?"

In her shocked state, Rosemary managed to backtrack. "I mean - you're a beaver who is talking."

"We all do," the beaver said simply.

Rosemary shook her head for a moment, her frozen hair knocking against her cheeks. "I'm sorry - 'we'?"

The beaver smiled again and cocked her head to the side. "Tell you what. It's cold and you're soaking wet, so why don't we head back to the dam and you can warm up and I'll answer any and all questions you have as best as I can."

That sounded like a fair deal so Rosemary nodded and slowly stood up on wobbly legs. Standing straight, she was more exposed to the elements and could feel the wind and cold air on her skin and wet clothes. Her hair and clothes had already begub to freeze. The last thing that Rosemary wanted was to catch pneumonia with only a beaver to treat her. Did they even have doctors or nurses here? In...Narnia?

Rosemary's feet felt sluggish as she trudged behind the lady beaver. "I know we haven't been walking long but how much further? I can't really feel my body," she smiled sheepishly, though the lady beaver didn't turn around to see it.

"Just around the corner, dear. And then we'll get you all warmed up and fed."

Seeing the bend in the river not too far ahead, Rosemary was motivated to move a little faster and reach their warm destination sooner. Her lips were probably purple and her fingers could have fallen off twenty steps ago and she wouldn't have noticed. Both hands were clamped under her armpits, but seeing as her clothes were sopping wet, not much warmth was provided.

"Here we are!" Looking up, Rosemary stared a large dam built in the ice and light coming from within. Was anybody else home? "Beaver is out right now but he should be back for dinner. I hope you like fish and chips."

Rosemary actually hated fish but she didn't have the heart to tell the lady beaver that. She would force the disgusting meal down if she had to. She wouldn't turn anything away that was given to her by someone who had saved her life - even though she had tried to end it no more than thirty minutes ago.

Rosemary had to get on her hands and knees to crawl through the doorway, but once she was inside, she could stand to her full height of five-foot-five. Looking around the room while the lady beaver went down on all fours and shook herself dry, Rosemary saw a bed in the far right corner, a makeshift kitchen, a dining room table, and a sitting area.

"This is incredible," Rosemary whispers in awe. Who knew beavers lived so lavishly.

"Thank you. But the credit really goes to Beaver - my husband. He's the builder and the designer. I just feed the fat lump. You can call me Mrs. Beaver."

Rosemary looked down at the friendly creature who was smiling up at her with warm eyes and an outstretched hand - well, paw. Grabbing it as nonchalantly as she could (seeing as she's never actually shook hands with a beaver or any creature for that matter), Rosemary shook hands with Mrs. Beaver. "I'm Rosemary. It's lovely to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine, Rosemary," Mrs. Beaver replied. "Now take off some of those layers and lay them out by the fire to dry. Beaver and I have found some clothes over the years that we keep in a trunk by the bed. We use them mostly as blankets, but you're welcome to sort through and see if there's anything that fits you."

Rosemary didn't need to be told twice. She quickly laid out her peacoat by the fire before finding the trunk Mrs. Beaver was talking about. It was wooden, with beautiful and intricate designs carved into it. On the front at the center, the designs all focused on the carving of a lion mid-roar. Rosemary took a moment, tracing her fingers over the designs much like a blind person reading brail.

Inside was even more extraordinary. Both male and female clothing had been folded neatly and placed inside. Rosemary picked out a pair of stockings, a long-sleeved dress close enough to her size, and a belt.

"Is there someplace I can change?" Rosemary asked timidly.

"Not really. Beaver and I don't really wear clothes," Mrs. Beaver mused. "But I won't look and Beaver won't be back for at least another hour. Do you want some tea?"

"Oh, yes please."

In any other situation, Rosemary would be hesitant to change in front of someone else - especially someone she had just met. But she was freezing and didn't really care anymore. Part of her was convinced she was dead and this was her hallucinating before she fully drowned. Turning her back to Mrs. Beaver, Rosemary changed as quickly as she could. Though the dress and stockings were thin - definitely not ones made for winter - they were dry and already she felt a little bit warmer.

Letting Mrs. Beaver know that it was okay to turn back around, Rosemary moved to lay her wet clothes out by the fire. "So, you said you would answer some of my questions?"

[Chapter Four] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

[wanna-b-poet31]

A (expect a part 5) 4-Part Good Omens Meta Part 4: Crowley’s 5 Harmful Coping Skills + 1 That Heals

So Expect a part 5 maybe tomorrow maybe the next day, and perhaps a part 6. Honestly, the Ineffable Duo has a lot of trauma and abuse issues that deserve more time and energy than my metas, but I hope this helps unpack some??? of their experiences and helps explain their recovery journies. Obligatory apology for somehow turning into a Good Omens blog overnight

So what you missed on these outrageously long metas

Part 1 TLDR:  Crowley’s love for Aziraphale helps heal him from the abuses of Heaven 

Part 2 TLDR:  Aziraphale’s love helps Crowley cope with his trauma and their no-strings-attached relationship enables him to begin healthier healing processes despite the abuses of Heaven and Hell.  

Part 3 TLDR:  Aziraphale’s abuse doesn’t allow him to cope with the fact his bosses and his instincts are telling him to do 2 very different things. He manages to cope but only by using denial and repression...which is hella unhealthy. It is only when he finally puts down his defenses and being honest with himself that he is not in a good place in Heaven, but he is in a good place with Crowley, that he can start working toward recovery.

The Road So Far:

So Where Aziraphale is badly abused and Traumatized by Heaven and the fear of falling,  Crowley lived it, he fell, he lost his sense of self, and he struggles with isolation. In short, it’s much, much worse. While I’ll be arguing his coping mechanisms are not AS toxic as Aziraphale’s (which, let’s be honest that’s a low bar considering how deep in denial Aziraphale is), he still doesn’t cope with his loss in a healthy manner. 

This being said, Crowley IS further along his recovery path than Aziraphale, it is their relationship with the angel that allows him to finally come to terms with his issues and start forming healthy strategies for overcoming, or coping with, his considerable loss.  

CROWLEY (please someone >Aziraphale< give him a hug)

So whereas Aziraphale is drinking some top-shelf quality Repression and Denial, Crowley is not allowed such a luxury. Unlike his angel who will not/ cannot touch his trauma with a 10 and a half meter pole, Crowley is intimately aware that he is fallen, and that that kind of loss (abandonment) does not heal easily.

First, he is shown to believe that he is responsible for all of the bad things that have happened in the world. For example, he takes responsibility for things “humans beat him to”. but we can see (in the book at least) that many of the horrific terrors (like the Spanish Inquisition) caused him so much pain he drank for a week. Also, he frequently says things to the effect of “I am bad” (i.e. I’m not nice), “I am undeserving of love” (i.e. I’m unforgivable), and “no one can be trusted (i.e. the trees have ears). 

Ultimately, this trauma manifests in low self-esteem for the demon, and enforces his reckless, and often destructive, behavior. All of this negative perspective stems from losing supposedly unconditional love, and Hell’s expectations for him as an “evil” demon.  

You can see some of this at work when Aziraphale says “I hope you are forgiven” and Crowley responds “I’m unforgivable”. As noted in Part 2, this interaction demonstrates Crowley’s low approximation of himself. Worse, it also indicates that he has internalized the idea that he, by mere providence of his being a demon, is unworthy of love, forgiveness, and unconditional care. Since Heaven tossed him out, and his genius is unappreciated in Hell, he is isolated from the rest of the divine creatures for his humanity, as he is isolated from humanity by his divinity. He does not see himself as worth forgiveness, attention, or any “positive” emotion. 

Because his self-esteem has been thoroughly broken by God, he fails to properly assign blame. Meaning, when he should be pointing to the key abuser (in this case God) as the reason for his abandonment, he instead blames himself and other demons for falling. 

Let me reiterate again, Crowley is not at fault for being cast out. It was God who, in her abusive “wisdom” chose to cast him out and banish him from his home. In reality, he didn’t “saunter vaguely downwards” or “hung around the wrong crowd” or “simply asked questions”, he was tossed out. Each of his “reasons” for being a demon is not an act of reclaiming his identity. He is not saying “I left because you are an abusive power hungry parent and this needs to stop”. Instead, he’s saying “I’m looking for a reason to justify why I was abandoned”. Each of his responses places the blame on him for his lack of etherial-ness do not directly address the cast-outer as the one at fault.   

Consequently, he constantly has outbursts of anger (see: screaming at plants),  guilt (see: apologizing to Aziraphale for “whatever I said, I didn’t mean it, Look at me I’m apologizing, now get into the car”), and shame (see: his response whenever he talks about falling, because it’s not pride or joy, but fear and sadness producing shame).  He also has a significant about of fear that he won’t be successful, that the earth will end, and that motivates his desires to Run. The. Fuck. Away. 

Although I can not and will not diagnose Crowley with PTSD, according to the Anxiety and Depression Association of America Crowley demonstrates many worrisome behaviors that come with untreated or poorly treated trauma, causing negative effects to recovery from abuse.    

By and large, Crowley responds to the trauma of falling not by denying and avoiding, but by internalizing all of the negative stereotypes placed onto him. Where many of the other demons revel in their designation, truly trying to kill and undo humanity, Crowley doesn’t do that.  Instead, he finds other, unhealthy outlets for his trauma. 

This is also followed emphasized by his aggressive behavior and irritability towards practically everyone, sentient or not (his plants count).  Along with his reckless and often self-destructive behavior (like speeding, drinking, yelling, saving Aziraphale, and running away to Alpha Centauri).

Like Speeding:

While Crowley’s Bentley is practically his child, and he does love it, he drives recklessly in it. There is something to be said about the miracles he presumably places around it to avoid disaster, Aziraphale’s correct in pointing out that it is, without a doubt, DANGEROUS behavior. 

We see 3 different instances where Crowley is straight out a reckless driver. First, while delivering the anti-christ he is so consumed with his fear for the end of the world that he almost crashes into oncoming traffic. Second, he HITS Anathema on her bike (which under normal circumstances could have resulted in his, Aziraphale’s or Anathema’s death). Third, he drives THROUGH hellfire, and across the English countryside with a car on fire. Yes, I know that he survives because “damn it he’d started in the Bentley, he’d end in the Bentley”. But, as we see with Hathur, the fire is normally deadly (inconveniently discorporated-ly) even to Demons. His desperation is noted, but also dangerous and reckless. 

Each of these reckless instances is in direct response to traumatic triggers. Namely: the fall, rejection, and death. 

Almost hit by a semi-truck? It is likely that the end of the world, the end of humanity, and the celestial war to follow is reminiscent of the first rebellion. I mean, the first war that would have resulted in Crowley’s fall. Being tasked with delivering the very thing what will make the “end times” realized is a hard reminder of the “beginning times”. 

Actually hitting a girl on a bike? He’s talking to Aziraphale about love and as someone who has been rejected (several times at this point) by the said angel, and we can tell based on the 1970′s rejection, that it’s not a healed wound. His relationship with Aziraphale is one of the healthiest in the whole series, as well as, I wager, the most healing ones. But, it doesn’t work if/when Crowley is afraid of rejection or reminded of the 7(ish) times he’d been rejected previously. 

Your car’s on fire?  What’s the “perfect” response to being stuck on the M25 while something that could “kill” you surrounds all of London? Why not drive right through it? No! We, the audience, can tell that’s a terrible idea, but, because Crowley’s self-preservation skills are 0 and Hathur just threatened to kill him (and alluded to the death of Aziraphale again which, we will be getting to) it’s the only response to the threat he can figure out.  It is only by a miracle (perhaps many) that he doesn’t die in the car fire. 

Like Drinking

Although both Aziraphale and Crowley indulge in drinking, with an assumed frequency, Crowley uses it as a coping mechanism when faced with his traumatic triggers. He drinks because it’s the end of the world and needs to not be rejected by Aziraphale. He drinks because he’s scared about what the end of the world means and having nowhere to go. He drinks because Harthur mentions his fall. He drinks because Aziraphale’s bookshop burned down and likely died. 

Yes, you could say that because he’s demonic, and alcohol doesn’t have the “same” impact on him as it might someone else, he uses it as a crutch to process a lot of his fears and trauma. And, regardless of the effect, getting drunk/drinking heavily is not a healthy coping mechanism. We can see this fantastically displayed when he has hit rock bottom and his only support system (all of 1 angel, Aziraphale) up and dies on him. He has no other place to process his trauma except at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.  This is not healthy and does not allow him to process the grief and retraumatization he’s experiencing with the loss of his best friend. It is only Aziraphale who can pull Crowley out of the stupor he’s in, because Aziraphale is the only reliable thing in Crowley’s life, and even he comes with a few triggers. 

Like Yelling

Although I like to think he doesn’t actually destroy his plants for “disappointing him. We can’t know that. We can only know that, with little prompting, he can and does fly off the handle and yell, scream, and yell abuse at his plants. Now, while it sorta seems like his plants are semi-sentient, in general, this coping mechanism isn’t the worst. However, it too does not get at the root of his problem, being cast out of Eden. He needs to address the elephant in the room which is, that he, in this scenario, is taking his anger out on plants which did nothing wrong JUST LIKE God treated him. It can be therapeutic, to enact and confront the issues he's’ dealing with, but without the confrontation part, reenacting his cast-out moment only serves to reinforce that he, not God, is at fault for his fall. Which is decidedly unhealthy. 

Like Saving his angel

I love in Episode 3 we see just how head over heels in love Crowley is for Aziraphale. However, this often comes at >surprise surprise< great personal pain or danger. He cannot walk on consecrated ground without causing himself a great personal injury. However, he can’t stand the death of Aziraphale more. It is clear that when faced with the loss of his one friend/lover/partner, he would walk 500 miles of consecrated ground, and then walk 500 more just to be the one to see Aziraphale happy at his door. 

Normally, Demons are specifically unable to enter holy sites, or else be burned or otherwise injured. Despite this! He does into the church anyway for no other reason than to save Aziraphale. 

Now, I love this. This moment makes me happy and we get to see Aziraphale also recognize how in love Crowley is with him. BUT doing so is reckless and dangerous, and there was a non-zero chance he may have been harmed in a similar manner to Holy Water.  Continuously placing himself in these kinds of dangerous places (like in the 1970′s) is destructive and could even constitute a form of self-harm. Aziraphale certainly thinks so (at least the dangerous part) when he tries to talk Crowley out of the heist. Azi goes out of his way to ensure Crowley won’t go into a church and harm himself again and knows only giving him Holy water will ensure there won’t be another (maybe) self-harm repeat. 

Like Running Away

Crowley doesn’t avoid things like Aziraphale does. But, he does, as a last-ditch effort, use it as his only tool for coping with the prospective loss of Aziraphale from his life. But like with yelling at his plants, it doesn’t cope with the trauma of loss, or rejection, or death. It only puts off the stress and distracts from the events he needs to focus on. He, at this moment, NEEDS to focus on the end of the world, no matter how painful it is. He needs to focus and get Aziraphale out of the pit of denial and repression. He needs to be on his own side, creating a plan to save humanity. But he wants so badly to run away, and live, happily ever after with Aziraphale. Unfortunately, he can’t without working through some of his underlying issues first.

Plus The Like One Healthy Coping Mechanism

Which brings me to my whole reason for this meta. A brief look at the one healthy coping mechanism he has developed in his life. It is only his relationship with Aziraphale that Crowley can healthily begin his recovery journey.  He works so damn hard for his relationship with Aziraphale, and using it to confront his fears and triggers is a healthy approach to an otherwise traumatic life. 

Aziraphale is his support system. He is the person he relies on the most to be honest, true, loving, and appreciative of humanity. Together, they both work to lift each other up, validate their concerns and worries, and ensure that they can focus and tackle the underlying trauma they otherwise can’t cope with. 

When Cowley does not have a support system (read: Aziraphale) he is unable to channel his trauma into a productive way (see part 2 for more details). Moreover, each of his other coping mechanisms does not deal with his significant trust issues which results from the fall. God certainly doesn’t love him, the angels don’t trust him, and many of the demons think he’s “gone native”. But Aziraphale? Aziraphale trusts and loves him like an equal. He talks to him with more care and reverence than anyone else who has ever existed. Together, the two of them work as equals, trying to make sure the world breaks even.  

Which makes his frequent rejections and repressed feeling for Crowley all the more painful. It’s also not that Aziraphale means to hurt Crowley, but where he is in his recovery journey, he simply doesn’t have enough tools to confront his heavenly abuse. And, to be fair, for the most part, Crowley is understanding and patient. Crowley is more than willing to find the speed he needs to go to make Aziraphale comfortable so they can be on the same page.

Crowley already sees the writing on the wall. He knows that he needs someone to love, and that’s his best friend. He knows that through developing healthy, consistent communication and telling the truth (being vulnerable to that rejection and not isolating himself)  is he able to begin overcoming the memory of his fall. However, they both need to see the that they’re their own side for it to go from “a celestial security blanket” to “a healthy and healing relationship”. To get through their trauma, they need both of them are on board and seeing each other as equals.  And Crowley knows that. 

The shift to 100% “healthy coping system” is most easily seen at the end of the series where, after being tortured (I see you, Gabriel, you abusive asshole). While he knows the hellfire won’t kill him, there’s still a trauma inherent in knowing his <lover> would not have. Moreover, there’s trauma inherent in not getting a trial from the supposed “good guys”. While Crowley takes glee in scaring the angels, it’s not an easy space to be in. However, once both Aziraphale-as-Crowley and Crowley-as-Aziraphale make it back to the park, they are able to cope with their joint traumatic experiences together. No secrets. No lies. No “my side won’t like it”. Just the two of them, working through their issues together.

TLDR: The 5 harmful coping mechanism of Anthony J. Crowley, and the 1 that helps him (so long as they’re both aware they’re in this together).

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[heartbreak-of-a-marauder]

Forever and Always My Little One (3)

Title: Katarina

Pairing: Kol x OC

Summary: Parties and bloodlust rarely go well together in Fayne’s experience.

Words: 2,736

Note: Lil’ bit of NSFW action in this part!! Previous parts linked below:

 <- 3 ->    

~*~*~*~*~

1492 – English Countryside  

The Mikaelson Manor was an imposing structure that stood out against its green English background. The opulence could rival King Henry the sevenths stately homes but I doubted anyone would be foolish enough to openly insult the king. We were surprisingly isolated from the lives of our neighbours, although, when Niklaus held a ball they would descend in droves with women hoping to catch the fancy of one or all of the brothers.

The next gathering was to take place tomorrow evening and the guests who had managed to procure special invitations had already arrived making it increasingly difficult to wander the grounds without comments of how a lady should not be unchaperoned should she value her worth.

The quiet of my secluded section was soon disturbed as a women's laughter floated on the breeze. “The gardens are as beautiful as you promised Trevor.” I smiled to myself at the compliment knowing that if Niklaus ever heard it his ego would inflate.

As they rounded the corner Trevor's adoring demeanour was clear, he was a pace behind the woman as they walked allowing him to gaze lovingly at her without her realising. But the scene was short-lived as the expression melted away when he realised another was watching. Leaving the secluded perch, I wandered to greet the pair.

He stretched out an arm before us in a sweeping motion. “Katarina, may I introduce Lady Fayne, she is Kol’s ward and a family friend of the Mikaelsons.”  

“Hello.” Katarina greeted politely while dipping slightly. Waves of dark curls cascaded down over her shoulders while the deep purple of her gown complimented the slightly olive tone of her complexion. Her face was disarmingly innocent, but there was something worldly behind her eyes. Oh yes, the brothers would certainly like this one.  

I hooked my arm around Katarina’s and smiled sweetly at her. “Don’t worry Trevor, I shall return her to you unharmed.” He looked uncertainly at me for one moment before bowing.

We walked at a leisurely pace around the gardens for most of the afternoon, the sunshine gently warmed our skin. It wasn’t long before we had dropped the honorifics and were speaking as though we had been friends since we were girls.  

“Fayne, I think we should retire indoors, your fingers are freezing.” She stated staring at my hand in concern. Smiling politely, I nodded.

_ _ _ _ _

I had retired to my rooms after returning to the house, and now sat in front of a warm fire nursing a goblet of warmed wine in my lap. It had been a while since my last feed and the effects were beginning to show, but with the grounds soon to be crawling with guests my window was closing quickly. I was thinking through my available options when the sound of footfall stopped slightly behind my chair.

“I hear you have been making friends, little one.” I could almost picture the obnoxious grin on Kols’ face.

“Yes, an acquaintance with Trevors’ special guest, a young girl by the name of Katarina Petrova.”  

“I take it she is a pretty little thing.”

“And you will end up with your hands cut off. Trevor intends to present her to Niklaus.”  

“You know how much I like a challenge.” He teased.

Pivoting in my seat, I cast a glance at Kol to see him staring back at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was always creating trouble and normally I would have happily joined in on his hell-raising antics but not tonight. Tonight was Niklaus’s birthday celebration. I hoped that I would not need to act as a conscience for Kol and keep him out of trouble.

“Must I accompany you this evening Kol?”  

He fixed me with a deeply curious look that had me itching to move. Getting up I paced the room to the furthest point away from him. Since my earliest days as a vampire, hunger had been my adversary, able to sour my mood quite easily.

“Of course, you must, we are celebrating Niklaus’ birth.”  

“Yes, I simply do not see why I must attend also... Surely my absence would not be noted.” I bargained.

“Do you forget that you owe him your life little one? Surely you would not wish to offend him by rejecting his invitation.” I narrowed my eyes at the smug look resting on Kol’s face. He knew of my discomfort and was revelling in it.

“His actions were very generous indeed Kol, but you must understand my need to not be present.”  

“You have my sympathy for your frustrations little one, perhaps this shall serve as a lesson.” He grinned like the cat who’d caught the canary before sauntering towards the door, pausing on its threshold. “I expect you to be presentable by sundown Fayne, no slipping away.”

“Kol,” I whined as he made his exit.  

We had unfortunately been through this before, the importance of regular feeds had been a heated topic on many occasions for us. A way to keep us a cut above the rest is how he phrased it once. I myself had never been particularly good at remembering, and much like now, my ignorance would cost me.

I need more wine.

_ _ _ _ _

Irritatingly true to his word, Kol rapped his knuckles against my door just as the sun had begun its descent below the horizon casting a warm orange light through the window which created long-reaching shadows. I sat in the high-backed chair facing the door, raising the goblet to my lips I took one final deep swig of wine, draining the cup, before placing it next to the empty pitcher on the table to my right. Without warning the door swung open with great force causing it to crash against the stone wall. Still, I was resolute and did not move from my chair. I’d stewed in discomfort and copious amounts of wine since our meeting earlier that day. I was agitated and soon Kol would know it. He’d flit across the room and was dragging me to stand by my elbows before I could blink.

“Come now little one, or we shall be late.” Kol did not release his hold and jerked me roughly when I made no attempt to move. “Behave.” He said icily before pulling me along with him.

The great hall was lit by candlelight casting its occupants in a soft glow. Their wealth highlighted by the occasional glitter of jewellery. As we descended the stairs, guests turned to look at us, there weren't many familiar sights in the sea of faces before us.  

“Heavens above, did he invite all the gentry across the land?” I whispered to Kol while offering a small yet polite smile to any guests I made eye contact with as we skirted the edge of the room.

“It would appear so...” He trailed off as he scanned the room before us looking for someone or something, failing to locate them.  

“Dance with me.” He demanded, I glanced incredulously at him.

“No,”  I replied curtly only to have my elbow seized in another stronghold.

“Fayne,” He whispered low, the warning clear.  

“...we agreed you would behave.” Squaring my shoulders, I turned to face him fully, removing my arm from his grasp.

“I am!” I hissed. “If you force me into that throng, I will not be held accountable for my actions.”

“Fayne if you-”  

“Goodnight Kol.” My tone was cold and final as I moved away from him, allowing me to catch a glimpse Katarina blushing at something Niklaus had said.

I made a mental note to seek her out after this evenings celebration when I could be sure my words would not be overheard by the wrong people. She was a sweet yet painfully naive girl. She understood the finer arts of female seductions, this was clear from how Trevor trailed after her but was undoubtedly unaware of her current pursuers' nature. I had known this family long enough to see when something would end in tears.

Grabbing a goblet of wine from a passing servant I hid away in a dimly lit alcove. From here I would not be disturbed and I could peacefully observe the room. When my patience had started to dwindle at the availability of food I wasn’t allowed to touch, I decided to retire.

The sounds of the revelry downstairs grew quieter as I wandered through the manor towards my chambers. Reaching out I dragged my fingertips across the coarse stone wall of the corridor, I was irritated, the wine I'd consumed had dampened my pallet but did nothing to quell my hunger. Sighing deeply, I inhaled again through my nose and nearly choked. There it was, the rich, tangy iron scent of blood. The rough texture of the stone pushed into the palm of my hand as I braced all of my weight onto the wall. It was faint at this distance, but base instincts were difficult to ignore. I resumed my former leisurely pace of walking as I followed the scent, it sent a wave of anticipation through me as though I was nonchalantly stalking unsuspecting prey.  

I arrived just short of the source, staring at the wooden door separating me from it. The bottom of my stomach fell away as I realised who the room belonged to. Gripping the cold handle, I entered the room as quietly as I could, leaning against it once closed.  

Bodices and skirts were strewn about the room, some with ripped seams of fastenings. Three goblets and an empty decanter of wine sat forgotten the side table. Unmistakable puddles and splotches of red were visible on the bedsheets. The three occupants were still unaware of my presence.

Kol sat in the middle of the two young girls, his shirt and coat had also been discarded onto the floor. The brunette on Kol’s left was left in her shift and corset, the cotton sleeves had fallen from her shoulders exposing her breasts to him, he fondled one breast in his left hand, tweaking the nipple occasionally as his right secured her wrist to his mouth. She let out breathy moans as he touched her. The muddy blonde on his right was bare to the waist as her shift pooled about her hips, she pressed herself into his side, paying him her affections by noisily kissing his skin while her hand ventured below the loosened strings of his breeches. Their heavy breathing and soft moans punctuated the air, one may think it a simple overindulgence of the nights' festivities if it were not for the bite marks that marred the girls otherwise blemish-free skin.

“Kol...” I said trying not to breath too deeply.  

His head popped up from the brunette to look at me, a lazy smile spread across his face, remnants of her blood staining his teeth. He shimmied away from his company to sit on the edge of the bed, the girls eagerly followed after him desperate to remain in contact.  

“Little one,” he drawled. “You appeared to be having such fun at the ball that I thought ‘why not have some of my own’?” he gestured to the women still groping at him with a smirk.

“You are breaking his rules Kol,” I warned for his benefit and for my own. If he were to be caught there would be hell to pay and the smell of their blood would linger for days. With my resolve already fraying it would not take much for it to snap.

“Who cares about the rules, it is a party Fayne, enjoy yourself.” He lounged backwards, resting on his elbows still smirking as the ladies ran their fingers over his abdomen.

“Kol please, Niklaus forbade it... Please,”  

He sensed the way my voice strained; I knew it from the way he suddenly sat upright again pushing his company away. I watched as he gave me a once over, noticing how I hadn’t moved an inch since entering and how my hands fisted my skirts behind me.  

“A small taste will not hurt Fayne.” He said gently after a while, he was coaxing me.  

“No.” He stood at my protest, slowly walking towards me. “You do not hunt where you sleep! Especially when the grounds are filled with humans.” I stressed as he stopped an arm's length away.

“A taste is not the end of the world but it will help.” He affirmed taking hold of my hand.

He tugged me softly but I stayed stuck to the door like glue. His expression wasn’t unkind as I shook my head and pulled back. Instead, he snapped his fingers and the girls came to him, flanking the sides. I was enveloped in the scent of their blood, Kol’s bite marks still oozed, my mouth ached as I fought against my fangs descension.  

“Little one,” he cooed bringing the brunette's wrist nearer to me. I could feel my face change as I cast one more look at Kol before giving in to my urges.

I latched onto her wrist with force sucking greedily trying to coax more of the delicious red liquid forth. Deciding her wrist wasn’t yielding enough blood quick enough I moved to the more preferred but volatile spot that was her jugular. Biting down the warn liquid gushed forward into my mouth, with some dribbling down my chin as I was unable to drink fast enough. The brunette never made a noise of protest so I continued until she went limp in my grasp. I let her fall to the floor with a dull thud as I focused my sight on the blonde, my arm snapped out and seized her by her neck pulling her hair as I dragged her towards me. Once she too was drained of her usefulness I turned to face Kol again.  

“What are you thinking about little one?” His forehead creased in confusion.

“You,” I reply with a coy smile.

“Me?” He cocked an eyebrow flashing me another roguish grin.

My smile quickly dissipates as I shove Kol backwards with renewed strength, having caught him unaware we stumble back into the room but age allowed him to quickly regain dominance that sends us sprawling onto the tiled floor, the forgotten clothing providing us with some cushioning. I am instantly overpowered when Kol gained the high ground allowing him to pin my hands on either side of my head.  

“Stop it... stop it,” Kol commands as I wriggle, eager for my freedom. “Enough!” I stare breathlessly up at him, surprised that he had raised his voice.

“You are proving to be quite the nuisance tonight Fayne,”

I scoff. A quiet, hassle-free evening is all I had wished for. I had been content in not attending the evenings gathering knowing from experience that they never go smoothly with something almost always going pear-shaped. Now here I lay, trapped against my will being called a nuisance.  

“It is times like these that I understand my brothers’ disapproval of you...” He continued unaware of my deepening frown.

“I have never been more insulted-”

“Simply look at the mess your recklessness has gotten us into, I was quite content with a sip,” he nodded gesturing to the state of the room and the two deceased women.  

“Me?!” I cry incredulously at his smirking face. “You good-for-nothing, low life cad! You knew the consequences, you knew...” My train of thought stops as I feel Kol begin to laugh, his frame vibrating in mirth.

“You son of a-”  

“Oh, come now Fayne, at least hold on to some semblance of dignity,” He cuts me off again, rising from the floor finally freeing me.  

“You baited me,” I look disbelievingly at him, still seated like a sulking child.  

“We should get this disaster cleaned up before dear old Niklaus discovers us,” He extends a hand down to me, offering to help me up.

Slapping his hand away, I stand on my own. “Clean your own mess, you wretched man.”

I don’t look back at Kol as I stalk towards the door, as I leave I can hear him chuckling softly to himself.

‘Damn you Kol Mikaelson’ I think to myself with a small sardonic smile on my face as I realise my hunger has been fully sated. ‘Damn you’.

TAGLIST: @xceafh

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Mary!

You have been accepted for the role of MARLENE MCKINNON with the faceclaim change of Zoe Kravitz! We really enjoyed how you incorporated Marlene’s background with her large family and the farm into her personality, her strengths, and her weaknesses. We are so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Mary

AGE: 26

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: The most fortunate thing about the world’s given circumstances right now is that I’m working from home as self-quarantine, which opens up A LOT of time for me. This is my reality for the next month and a half or so, and even if (God-willing) we return back, I’ll still have at least a couple hours every other day to spare for replies and such.

ANYTHING ELSE: Triggers: self-harm, eating disorders, suicide.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Marlene McKinnon

AGE: 24

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Female, She/Her, Bisexual

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Ravenclaw

ANY CHANGES: FC change to Zoe Kravitz! Also not sure if she should be younger like 21 to match Lily’s age? If not, I don’t mind keeping her at 24.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY: 

Marlene is always the first to volunteer to help. She’s fearless, loyal, and holds so much integrity in doing the right, fair thing for all - even if it’s not exactly her first choice. She might not have the friendliest face, but she’s incredibly compassionate to the lives’ of others. She holds a balance of head and heart, just as any true Ravenclaw would. Speaking of her head, Marlene is one of the most resourceful witches in the Order. She has a great mind to come up with a creative solution, in order to quickly problem solve. She’s also a natural leader. Growing up as one of the older siblings in her family, she had to manage many personalities working together. So she naturally excels in having to facilitate teamwork, which made her an obvious contender as both Quidditch Team Captain and Order of the Phoenix member. Marlene has a deep hero complex - so naturally, she struggles when something goes unexpected. It isn’t like she’s surprised and made to look foolish if she fails. Marlene is smart enough to deduct the possible outcomes within a situation, but her pride gets the best of her. In these moments, she is the perfectionist, competing with herself to always perform at her best. So when she slips, it’s truly personal. Marlene is also quite impatient. Over the years, she’s been able to control herself so she doesn’t come off as hotheaded or anything. However, there are those moments where you might question if Marlene is being sarcastic or if she’s perfected the dry delivery of her inner aggression.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: 

Marlene loved growing up on the McKinnon Farm. Her family was huge - not only did she have five siblings (three brothers and two sisters), but having her vast number of relatives visit the farm on a weekly basis for Sunday dinner was the norm. Everyone was close and dependent to another for companionship, growth, and love. She learned the most from her family - the kind of witch you should be, the definition of success, what love truly meant - and she knew how lucky she was to have this great sense of home to fall back on. Her favorite memories were after dinner on a family holiday, where her siblings, cousins, and herself would run through the meadows and play Marco Polo. Life on the farm always felt so easy. Up until the age of eleven, she had known nothing else, and yet knew that the farm was her own little oasis in the world. As much as she loved Hogwarts, living there only proved her ideology of her childhood home even more so.

OCCUPATION: 

Well, if you are to ask Marlene, she will tell you her first job is being part of the Dissendium Task Force. It’s a role she takes very seriously and puts every ounce of passion in. Her hero complex really compliments this position, since she has this sense of duty to save people from the evils of the war and help them find some peace in their given circumstances. However, her job to the public eye is Head Ranch Handler of the McKinnon Farm. Marlene is not the only hired hand on the farm, but she is the one who manages those that work for the McKinnon family business. She oversees herding of the winged horses, supervises financial planning, and continuously looks for new opportunities to expand the business on the farm, such as harvesting or humane breeding of magical creatures. The farm is a beloved part of the McKinnon family name and Marlene takes her job very seriously, feeling the heaviness of this important job on her shoulders.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER: 

Her purpose is to be the central point of the Dissendium Task Force. Even though she isn’t the only witch and wizard assigned to this team, she understands that her position and connection to the farm is fundamental to the Task Force, therefore, integral to the Order. With Marlene’s balance between emotion and logic, she understands that technically the actions of the Order are illegal. However, Marlene has a greater sense of justice, the greater good, and understands that in the world there are shades of grey - including this. And she will be honest and say she doesn’t agree with the Order’s decisions half the time. Something she will never admit it is the way she feels about the “inner circle”. Some people would find her thoughts as jealousy, but truly, Marlene feels that this idea of a select group of people making the decisions for a whole organization is equal to the same cause we are trying to fight against. There are few witches and wizards she questions to being in the inner circle in the first place, and wants to challenge if it’s really even fair for someone who has no knowledge of her life to make the decisions for her.

SURVIVAL: 

On the outside, Marlene would suggest that she has thrived this long because of her great wit. In passing, she has had to interact with a handful of dark wizards and keep a cool composure, so they weren’t to suspect her involvement and just simply choose to ignore the McKinnon family and their home. But on the inside, the probable main reason she has survived this long has been the family’s assets. Even with being considered “new money”, Marlene is still part of a large, wealthy Pureblood family, with a significant, ever-growing business that effects both sides of the war in some benefit. The farm is just secluded enough in the English countryside that it hasn’t peaked the Death Eaters interest, so living there and continuing to centralize the Task Force refugee efforts has remained to be safe during these times. Whether that has been brought by ignorance or by a bribe, that we currently don’t know - at least not yet.

RELATIONSHIPS: 

For Marlene, seeing as she grew up in a family that has given her everything, it’s hard for her to not set these high expectations when it comes to her friends. She would consider her two closest friends at the moment as Remus Lupin and Lily Evans. However, things lately have been tense between her and Lily. Marlene is trying to be the better person and be patient with Lily insisting to save every Muggleborn. However, Marlene knows that even her farm’s resources have their limits - and to save everyone simply because they might be targeted could crash their resources, blow their cover, and create mass hysteria. They have had a couple discussions back and forth on the subject, and anytime Marlene has felt herself about to blow over, she’s chosen to walk away. Marlene isn’t the type of person to do that, but Lily has been one of her closest friends since she can remember. This makes her friendship with Remus only more important when it comes to keeping her head cool. The more she talks to other members of the Order, such as Edgar Bones, the more she has begun to open up. However, there are equal amount of Order members Marlene has still found difficulty in trusting, such as Alice Longbottom or Mary MacDonald.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: 

Wow, difficult. VERY difficult. I’m not sure what ships are currently sailing so I’m truly going blind here. Off the bat, I would say Remus Lupin since there’s already a current connection there and foundation of trust. It would be definitely interesting to see something happen between Lily and Marlene maybe - they might have been good friends for a long time. So now, with Marlene being really disappointed at the way Lily is acting in regards to the Task Force, maybe it’s a deeper issue than just ‘focusing too much on muggleborns’. I could also see some kind of hookup between her and Dorcas. Also, Sirius Black. But that’s purely because I’ve seen the ship before and any chance to love down any version of a Sirius Black, I would be 1000% down for. Fabian Prewett might be a cool option too if the character is really into getting himself into danger. I don’t know, Mary ships all things so this is hard!!! lol

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE? 

She’s DEFINITELY got blood/financial privilege. She’s Pureblood and her family is new money. Some Pureblood families probably wouldn’t thrive in the farm setting, but even as rural as her upbringing was, it wasn’t simple, nor was it common. The farm could get confused with a plantation with how much land there was and how grand the main house is. It was luxurious without being goudy and despite the war around them, they have never experienced a hit in their business. Marlene has definitely lived comfortably, and that’s possibly part of the reason why she’s probably so fearless when jumping into situations - because she’s never felt true hardship on a fundamental level. She basically grew up with the perfect life. As for her biases, I don’t think she would cast out anyone for being a werewolf or Muggleborn or half-breed, but I think she would have a harder time in understanding their extraordinary circumstances. It could be done - but it would just be more difficult, as she would at first try to use logic from her own life - when clearly that wouldn’t work because she has never lived in that person’s shoes.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 

Harry Potter role-plays have always been home for me. Since the very beginning of my rp time here on Tumblr. The circumstances going on in the world right now somehow guided me back here, as I was yearning to do something again that I really enjoyed - and as I was searching for a new Harry Potter role-play to apply to, I stumbled onto yours. It had everything I searched for in a good HP RPG, including really warm and patient admins who dealed with all my constant messages! It really got me excited to write up this application and it brought back the magic that I had missed so so much. I’m looking forward to being able to fangirl over relationships I can plot and create for my character, but mostly looking forward to the relationships I might possibly make OOC. I have found family in past HP RPG’s and in the end, that’s what I always yearn for in the end.

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

Well, who would I be if I didn’t recommend at some point to go canon and kill off Marlene and her whole family??? Maybe loosing her family’s farm beforehand?? I mean half of me is like how can I say that my poor bb I haven’t gotten the CHANCE, but also, I love conflict and I feel like that would be such a gut-wrencher. However, OUTSIDE of that, something maybe a little more plausible and in the immediate future, would be a raid of the Potter Estate. It could even get tricky and messy, because Marlene could offer up the McKinnon Farm to use as HQ for the time being and maybe some members are on her side - like Dorcas or Remus - and others are not - like Lily or James - and the creates a rift of tension. Idk?? lol

ANYTHING ELSE? Not really!! I’m ready to go chief if you’ll have me :’)

[catsworldlytravels]

Gooooooood morning Vietnam

It’s actually over 3 years since I went to Vietnam, better late than never in writing up about it! This trip was March 2017.

I had a direct flight from London to Hanoi with Vietnam Airlines, an extremely reasonable flight price of around £450 return if I remember rightly. After a 12+ hour flight, I landed at 4.30am local time, and after swiftly clearing immigration (British citizens didn’t – at time of travel – require a visa for stays under 15 days) I had quite a long wait for my bag as it was basically the last one round the carousel – always a slightly worrying time! I’d arranged a transfer to my hotel in central Hanoi, and after arriving at the hotel at around 6.30am I took myself off to bed. Top tip, especially when travelling somewhere where accommodation is cheap by western standards – if you are arriving somewhere first thing in the morning, book a hotel room for the previous night so you can check in and either get some kip for a few hours, or freshen up before you start exploring. The hotel I was staying in was approx £30 per night which was worth every penny to be able to crash for a few hours.

As it turned out, I was absolutely knackered, the product of being in a job I didn’t enjoy (part of the reason I’d gone on sabbatical the year before), and at the time I’d actually just been successful in interviewing for another job in the same company which I would start shortly after returning from this trip. Much less stress and a better work/life balance, but that isn’t the topic of this blog, and as such I pretty much slept through the entire day. Fortunately I’d arrived a day early to join the trip so I didn’t miss out on that much, and it gave my body clock a chance to adjust.

After a long sleep, I awoke refreshed on the second day and after breakfasting in the hotel, I set off exploring Hanoi. One thing I had been warned about prior to this trip was that attempting to cross the street in Hanoi would be an interesting experience, certainly if you waited as you would in the U.K. for a break in the traffic, I’d still be stuck on the wrong side of the street now! It is a little unnerving basically having to walk out into traffic but, unbelievably, it works. Most people in Vietnam ride scooters as the taxes on (usually imported) cars are prohibitively expensive, and they are used to adjusting their speeds for pedestrians. After building up confidence to cross the street, I made my way to Hoan Kiam Lake and walked around it, enjoying the early morning sights including the locals enjoying some early morning yoga/meditation along the shores.

Hoan Kiam Lake, Hanoi

After some more wandering to a temple and to the market, I headed back to my hotel for some much needed air-con. After a short break from the heat, I ventured back outside and grabbed lunch – a delicious Bánh Mì from Banh Mi 25, one of the top-rated places for Bánh Mì in Hanoi. Bánh Mì are a delicious fusion sandwich, a baguette-style bread roll filled with pate, grilled meat, cucumber and pickled veg, and an absolute bargain with a Bánh Mì and bottle of water costing the equivalent of 75p!

In the afternoon I walked to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum complex and around the botanical gardens before retreating back to the hotel. In the evening I met the rest of the group (a G Adventures trip) and we headed out for dinner.

An early start the next morning as we headed to Halong Bay. It was a 4 hour drive punctuated by a stop at a project which creates employment for disabled people by teaching them crafts and needlework which is then sold. A very interesting idea.

We arrived at Halong Bay and boarded our overnight junk boat in time for lunch. As we set sail through the bay, the limestone karsts that we passed through reminded me a little bit of Milford Sound. I’ve since also been to Khao Sok in Thailand which was very reminiscent of Halong Bay. We sailed through the bay in the afternoon, stopping off in a couple of places including Ti Top Island where we climbed up 400 steps to take in the views.

Halong Bay

We had dinner on the boat, all freshly made on board and plate after plate of delicious food was served up. After enjoying the stars with a couple of drinks, I retreated to bed. Another early start the following morning with breakfast at 7am before we visited a Sung Sot Cave, the largest cave in Halong Bay, which had this amazing, wave-like ceiling.

Sung Sot Cave, Halong Bay

We then headed back to land and late morning got off the boat and headed on the 4 hour journey back to Hanoi. We were taking the overnight train south to Hue but had a few hours spare before then, so I went on a street food tour. If you haven’t already gathered, I absolutely loved the food in Vietnam. I think it’s the best food I’ve had anywhere, and certainly the cheapest. We wandered the streets of Hanoi, sampling lots of delicious food before ending up in Hanoi Food Culture where we had the Vietnamese speciality of egg coffee (or egg chocolate in my case as I’m not a coffee drinker)

Egg chocolate – an alternate version of the Vietnamese speciality egg coffee

We boarded the train in the evening, around 9pm. We were travelling in first class which comprised of 4-berth bunks with shared toilets/squats at the ends of the carriages. Second class was 6-berth bunks, followed by soft seats and hard seats (as you might recall from the Top Gear Vietnam special). I took a top bunk. The journey itself was very loud and the train was very shaky, and I don’t remember sleeping too much. The overnight train I’ve since been on in Thailand was a much more comfortable ride.

We arrived in Hue at 10.30am the next morning. It was noticeably hotter and more humid. Despite arriving early, we were able to check in to our hotel where I promptly showered before heading out for a quick wander before we went on our included trips in the afternoon. I ventured for a walk along the Perfume River before retreating to the air con ahead of our afternoon tours. Firstly we went to the Tien Mu Pagoda:

Tien Mu Pagoda, Hue

We then went to the main attraction in Hue, the Imperial Citadel. An imposing collection of buildings, and much, much larger than I imagined. The citadel was built in the early 1800s and was targeted during the Vietnam War. You can see the bullet holes from the Vietnam War in some of the walls.

Imperial citadel, Hue

We also squeezed in a visit to the Royal Tombs on an busy sightseeing afternoon.

At the Royal Tombs, Hue

The next morning I did a motorbike tour (as backseat passenger!) – an absolute must-do in a country where motorbikes/scooters are the primary form of transport. We were taken out to the countryside outside of Hue, seeing rice fields, monasteries and a colosseum where elephants and tigers once fought. We had an included vegetarian lunch at the monastery which was, once again, absolutely delicious.

Colosseum; Biker pose; River views

We arrived back in Hue after lunch and then headed south over the Hai Van Pass towards Hoi An. Unfortunately it was a bit cloudier than ideal which didn’t make for the best photos, but we still saw some great views.

Views on the drive to Hoi An.

We arrived in Hoi An in the late afternoon. Our guide took us on a brief orientation tour as we had 3 nights here to explore. We bumped into Jack Whitehall and his dad filming their Netflix travel series whilst we were wandering down tailors row – an unexpected sight! Hoi An is famous for getting cheap tailoring which can be ready in as little as 24 hours, but I didn’t partake on this occasion.

The following day we had an included excursion in the morning to Planeterra’s project here, Oodles of Noodles. This project taught local kids both the skills of cooking in a professional environment, as well as some English language. We learned to make rice pancakes, and then enjoyed a delicious bowl of noodles for lunch:

Lunch at Oodles of Noodles, Hoi An

We had a free afternoon where I enjoyed walking around Hoi An old town. Sincerely the prettiest place I’ve ever been.

Sights of Hoi An, the prettiest place I’ve ever been

The next day was a free day. The weather was a bit dodgy, grey with the occasionally downpour but still very warm, so after a relaxing morning at the hotel, I went for a hot stone massage in the afternoon. £20 for a 90 minute massage was an absolute bargain, even if I was a bit sore the following day! In the evening we enjoyed a walk (and some bargains) in the night markets.

The next morning was an early start for a flight from nearby Danang to Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), formerly Saigon. Even hotter and more sticky than Hue. After checking in to the hotel mid morning, and then going for lunch to have pho (finally!), we then had a free afternoon. Ho Chi Minh City has some pretty spectacular architecture, including many remnants of the French colonial era:

Notre Dame Cathedral, HCMC; City Hall; The Post Office, HCMC

The following day we had an included trip out to the Cu Chi Tunnels, a network of tunnels built by the Viet Cong outside of Saigon during the Vietnam War. It was fascinating to learn about the guerilla tactics used by the Viet Cong, and amazing to see the size of the tunnels, which were utterly minuscule.

Cu Chi Tunnels, barely big enough for a body to fit through

We came back to HCMC for lunch and then had a free afternoon. I decided to go to the War Remnants museum which is is a sobering affair. Be warned – there are some very graphic pictures of the effects of the chemical warfare. It was also horrifying to learn that people still live with the effects having been exposed at the time, but also because some of the effects can be passed on to offspring. A sobering reminder of the legacy of war, and well worth a visit.

That evening was our final group dinner before I left the following day. More delicious food, this time Vietnamese barbecue.

Vietnamese BBQ – cook your own dinner!

I had most of the next day free before an evening flight back to London via Hanoi. It was extremely hot and sticky again, and after a walk in the morning to the Reunification Palace and a failed attempt to find the Jade Emperor Pagoda, I retreated back to the hotel and air con and a shower before heading to the airport in the late afternoon.

So, what were my impressions of Vietnam? Genuinely part of the reason I went was after I’d seen the Top Gear Vietnam show, it looked a beautiful and fascinating country. A few people I’d met on my previous travels had also been and talked about what a wonderful country it is. And it certainly was. Everyone was friendly, I didn’t feel afraid walking around by myself, a solo female traveller (albeit on a group tour). It was very cheap – obviously I’d paid for the trip and accommodation/transport beforehand, and so all I had to buy whilst there was food, drinks, excursions and souvenirs. I was there for 10 days and spent less than £150 – and that included a $40 motorbike trip and a £20 massage. The absolute best food I’ve had anywhere I’ve been either before or since (with Peru close behind). And a fascinating, and devastating, recent history. Would absolutely recommend, and when I do go back again to South East Asia, I wouldn’t think twice about going back.

from WordPress https://catsgreatadventure.wordpress.com/2020/07/25/gooooooood-morning-vietnam/

[scarofthewind]

Brahms Heelshire x Reader

A/N: I have been wanting to write this for a while now. I will start back on requests after this has been posted. (REQUESTS ARE OPEN). Female Reader! This is ‘A’ for the masterlist under Brahms Warnings: Foul language. (This is really long btw)

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart , and all they can do is stare blankly.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby. 

You had prepared for everything except rain. Cold, hard rain that beat down on you mercilessly as you slammed the broken down car’s door shut; suitcase by your feet and bag on your arm. “This can’t be happening.” You sighed, looking around for a sign of civilization anywhere near the English countryside you were located at. 

There was no bother in even checking your phone because it died while giving directions to the hotel you were supposed to be arriving at soon. Biting back tears of frustration, you pulled your suitcase behind you, walking the path made by cars, trying to find your way through the heavily wooded area before it gets dark outside. “Of all places to get stranded!” You mumbled angrily, your shoes getting stuck in the mud as you walked quickly.

Taking time away from home to have a fresher mind was one thing, but having your publishing company tell you that you needed a new start was another. The pages in your bag were no doubt ruined, and that only made you want to give up your hike to shelter. However, you weren’t someone who quit easily. Not when it came to making money to pay for your rent, that is. 

After what seemed liked hours, you came across a metal gate, the latch was rusted and the front mail slot had a name you could barely make out. Your eyes looked up at the huge house that stood past the gate and you continued inside, managing to break the latch in the process. 

Practically running to the front door, you knocked hard, hoping whoever was inside, could hear you despite the rain. “Hello! Please help me! My car broke down and I have no where else to stay!” You shivered from the soaked clothes you had on, your eyes stinging with warm tears as you feared for the worst. “Please! Hello?! Anybody?” You tried to open the door but it was locked.

The sound of cries where what made Brahms’ heart beat fast in his chest. Ever since Greta had left, he’d felt no reason to hide in the walls anymore, so he sat up off the couch and looked out the window; careful to not be seen. His eyes wandered over your dripping and shaking frame. “I don’t have much, but I’ll give you anything I can. Please just let me in.” You sniffled, wiping at your eyes and letting your bag fall off your shoulder.

Cursing under his breath, Brahms quickly unlocked the door for you before running and going to hide in the walls. As soon as you heard the door unlock, you turned the knob and went inside, dragging your suitcase and bag behind you. When the door closed, an echo went through the house. “Hello?” You asked, looking around but not seeing anyone. “Thank you for letting me in. My name is (Y/N) and I’m...” you bit your lip, running a hand through your dripping hair. “I’m lost.” 

Brahms watched you from a mirror across the hall, his gaze following you every step you took. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say this place was empty.” You said aloud, looking at the dust that collected on the dark wood linings of the house. 

Silently, you took your suitcase upstairs, finding a room that had a bed and bathroom. You grew excited when the shower’s hot water turned on and undressed, stepping inside the warm water and letting the cold be taken away. Not taking too long, you finished your shower and left the bathroom, changing into warmer clothes and pulling out your wet pages. “What am I supposed to do?” Your heart hurt thinking of worse thoughts like getting fired. 

However, your thoughts were interrupted by a soft thud in the room across from yours. “Hello?” You asked, getting up and going to the door and opening it slowly. Your eyes widened for a second when they met a pair of glass ones, sitting on a small bed. 

It was a doll. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you pushed the door open and looked around. This was, or used to be a child’s room, you thought, moving around and looking at all the toys. Turning around, you looked to the bed, the doll staring into space, cracks all over it’s face. 

“Who broke you?” You asked, gently touching the cracks and smoothing the hair out of its eyes. With a sad smile, you stood straight, trying to find a sign of a name. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to tell me your name, would you?” 

In the silence you frowned to yourself, “I’m talking to a doll.” You turned and walked back to your room, taking the ruined book pages and throwing them into the trash. You jumped when thunder rolled loudly outside, your nerves getting the best of you. 

“It’s fine. Everything is fine.” You told yourself, going to the kitchen and trying to find any source of food, which you found nothing. “Great. My work was ruined by the rain and now I’m going to starve.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands and stomping back up to your room. 

Turing the corner to enter the doorway of your room, you froze and gasped, seeing the doll sitting on your bed, a piece of paper laying next to him. You stayed where you were for a moment, slowly walking over to the object. “Are you...alive?” You asked, staring the doll in the eyes as you took the paper in your hands. 

In somewhat neat handwriting was a name, bold in black ink. “Brahms.” Lighting flashed and you felt your heart stop as the name left your lips. Your mind flashed to the article you’d written a few years back, about a woman who was a nanny to a ‘possessed doll’. You tried to remember the rest but you couldn’t focus on anything but the name and the connection the lady. 

Your skin crawled when a bump sounded from in the wall next to you, your heart raced faster than you thought possible. “That’s right.” You stood up, the paper in your hands shaking as you were. “Brahms...damnit what was the last name?” You bit your lip, pacing a bit. “It wasn’t the doll, someone was actually living...” You stopped mid sentence, remembering the woman’s face as she’d told you what happened when you had interviewed her. “He’s in the walls.” You said as you thought of her saying it. 

“Brahms-” 

“Heelshire.” The paper in your hand floated to the ground and you didn’t dare move a muscle, the deep voice came from near you but you couldn’t move. You just stared at the doll and hoped that if you blinked it would all be over with. 

“She left. I didn’t want her to go.” The voice was dangerously quiet as it moved around you. “Greta...she was mine!” A sudden crash made you jump in your place and you watched as a figure moved behind you, reflecting in the doll’s polished eyes. 

“Brahms.” You mumbled, causing the figure to stop. 

“What?” He snapped, he was right behind you. You could feel his towering presence and you cursed yourself for feeling his warmth comforting. 

“None of that should’ve ever happened to you.” Your voice was quiet and for a moment Brahms was at a loss for words. No one had ever remotely said anything like that to him, not even Greta, who faked the whole thing just to survive. 

“I don’t want your pity.” He growled, watching as you shook your head. 

“I’m not. I mean, I do feel sad that you’ve been so alone for all this time. But I don’t pity you entirely. What Greta did was something rude yet understandable.” You said, feeling your nerves start to calm down. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned around to face a broad chest, clad in a stained tank top and the exposed skin covered with black chest hair. 

You took a step back and looked up at the man who wore half of a mask that you were confused by. Brahms stared down at you with the same confusion in his eyes. “Who are you?” He asked.

“My name is (Y/N). I’m a writer and I wrote an article about this case a while back. I didn’t know I’d ever actually come across this place. I’m sorry if I bothered you and I will leave-”

“No.” Brahms frowned, his eyes darkening.

“I have to otherwise-”

“NO!” He slammed his fists against the wall next to you and you nodded quickly. 

“Fine. That’s fine, I’ll stay.” You stared at him, wondering what he went through to be this hurt. 

“What did you mean when you said that stuff about Greta? That it was understandable?” 

“I just meant that no woman likes it when a man goes to extreme lengths to keep them in a place they don’t want to be. You were kind of rude as well- at least that’s what she told me.” You stared at each other for a few moments, your mind finally working normally again. “Phantom of the Opera.”

“What are you talking about?” He glared at you, not feeling comfortable underneath your stares. 

“Your mask. In Phantom of the Opera, his mask covered the part of him he never wanted the girl he loved to see. However,” You started, your writer’s mind thinking of a new way to start a book, a fresher way. “Brahms you don’t mind your scars do you?” Your hand slowly reached up to touch his face but was grabbed roughly by his. 

“You truly are afraid of being left alone. Not by your scars or not by the idea of never finding love. Loneliness.” Your eyes didn't break away from his until he let your wrist go. 

“You asked earlier who broke me? Gret- that woman, did. She was supposed to be mine forever, but she ran away!” Brahms hated himself for talking to you so casually, but for some reason, he felt that you understood him. 

“Brahms let’s make a deal. If I am to stay here with you, will you be my muse?” His tired eyes glanced over your frame.

“How do I know you won’t leave?” 

“I won’t. I have nothing back at home that can’t be worked it’s way over here. There’s nothing for me there.” You tensed, noticing his eyes flash in a way that made him grin. Brahms knew there was a reason you didn’t run. Your faced captivated him the moment his eyes landed on you. Maybe his parents didn’t mean Greta was his- maybe you were meant to be the one for him instead.

“Deal.” 

Learn how to be alone, without being lonely. Learn to admire beauty without finding fault. Learn to love yourself without the love of others. -h.r.d.

-Author’s note: If any of you are ever feeling upset or just want to talk, I am here for you guys. I’ve been through the darkest of my demons for now and I am finding ways to smile. Please message me if you need anything. 

[selfdulgent-selfinsert]

Will of the Wisp (Will o wisp Tracer X Female Reader)

So I got a little distracted by my Waifu for Liafus Halloween 2019 skin and really the Overwatch Halloween event as a whole. Tracer is so valid I would die for her and every time she gets a new skin it only reinforces that fact.

Image source: https://www.dbltap.com/posts/will-o-wisp-tracer-skin-images-price-rarity-overwatch-halloween-terror-2019-01dq8eq6c4mh

The English countryside was stunning. You had been backpacking around England for the past week, taking any escape you could get during summer break; not exactly able to travel home for break due to the high cost for international students and your own housing. Most of your friends had left and returned home, leaving you bored and overworked.

 So when your manager approached you and said you had to take your vacation time, you opted to just grab your backpack and spend your days hiking out across the areas you could afford to explore. So far you’d gained a new appreciation for the country after the stuffy large cities had worn you out. Leaving early and staying often later then you should have; a growing Uber bill nagging at your inability to force yourself from your travels. Just like now. The sun had long fallen from its perch in the sky and the woods around you were bathed in fog. The growing chill seeping into your bones as you had only dressed for the fair heat of the afternoon. The small hand crank flashlight barely parting the shadows as you carefully tread back down the trail you came in on. Thankful for the sparse benches and light posts guiding your way back. The atmosphere felt strange, hollow and foreboding as the fog kissed at your feet while the faint kisses of light were few and far between. The trees seemed to bend around you, seeming to swallow your lonesome self; you felt small.

 Mind-wandering, drifting into Halloween and recent horror movies.  How Junkenstein’s Revenge had opened on a foggy moor and how you felt the same in the theater as you did now. Uneasy. Like something was following you and it could be getting closer; picking up your pace you checked behind you. Nothing but darkness and the last lamp you passed.

The silence was deafening; your ears straining for the snap of a twig or some other cliché horror trope. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck standing in attention as a cold breeze swept past you. You swore you could hear a faint laugh on the wind. Shaking your head, was probably some stupid teenagers hiding out just inside the park entrance. Rolling your eyes; must have been closer to the entrance than you thought. The dark probably made your walk seem much faster. After all, you weren’t stopping to gawk at everything you passed this time. Slowing your walking, careful not to stumble on the stairs you remember were along your path but the stairs never came. Another streetlight growing in your vision, yet the entrance was nowhere. Cursing yourself for being out so late; this was surely becoming a growing issue. How the hell were you going to get back to your car? Checking your holo-pad, there was barely any battery left but you were able to check you’re GPS. You were still a ways away from the entrance. The chill was back now. There were no kids were there. Back to walking you swore you could hear the voice again. Starting to pick up your pace again, checking behind you more frequently. You could hear your heartbeat speed up, the unease you felt before coming back as fear. Stumbling over your own feet a bit as you walk in panic; cursing as you drop your flashlight, the cheap contraption giving up as it hit the dirt and leaving you in almost total darkness. Dropping to where you watched it fall and groping in the darkness as your eyes dilated. Spinning the crank handle in an effort to get the device working again.

 Another breeze though it was against your back, leaving a cold presence behind you though nothing was there as you spun around. Able to see a bit in the dark you decided to get back on your way and you’d figure your flashlight out as you went. The bulb sputtering back to life after a few extra cranks, however, it was much dimmer thanks to a couple bulbs not lighting up but it was better than nothing. If anything it would hopefully make you harder to spot, or at least the sentiment helps calm you down somewhat. Leaning on what light you had left you pressed on. Unwilling to let this become an all-night event.

 Light blew past you, it was teal and smoky. Magical almost. It didn’t quite disappear either, instead fluttering about in front of you like a flame. It was so enticing, feeling drawn to the supernatural flame yet your feeling of dread and fear had not gone away. Your body begging to go past and straight home but there was something you just couldn’t put your finger on. Drawing closer slowly, hand outstretched for the licking flames just centimeters from your flesh before it vanished. Leaving you once again in darkness. A familiar laugh drawing your head to the right. The flame dancing in the distance as if it was beckoning you over. Heeding its call you left the path, checking behind you for any followers. Your ankles tickled by the tall cold grass as you tread, a shiver running up your spine which left your bones frigid. Wrapping your arms around yourself in an effort to retain some body heat. The flame dancing in your vision, seemingly whimsical in nature as it giggled. The closer you came the more the flame seemed to expand. As if the light it shone was taking the vague shape of a person: dancing around and waving to you. Moving back into the trees the closer you came.

“Come on, Love!”

The voice spooked you; making you stop and turn on a dime looking for anyone around you. It was just you and the flame. It couldn’t have spoken, could it? What fucking was this? It waved again at you, its arms gesturing for you to follow again. “This way!” you were frozen in place, it did just speak to you. You couldn’t back up, it felt like you were tethered to the entity in front of you; the distance between you being pulled shorter and shorter as it forces you to move your legs in order to remain upright. So deeper into the forest, you went, the shape growing as it seemed to flush out arms and legs, a head and something bulky where the chest should be. It pulled you through the forest, forcing you over logs and stones. At some point you had lost your flashlight, leaving the specter as your way.

 Eventually pulling you through a line of brush and trees; you could feel your stomach flip as if you were falling while you crashed into an open clearing. The light was gone but the moon overhead afforded you some light. You appeared to have fallen into a forgotten graveyard, thick vines encased the scarce few headstones which stood cracked and crumbling in their fight against time. Standing you looked behind you, the forest dark and immense behind you. With no idea where you were, it was certain you’d only make it worse trying to find your way back from here. You couldn’t hear anything but the forest around you; starting to panic you’d neglected to notice the few pumpkins adorning the graves, Backing over one you toppled to the ground once more, hitting your back against a grave.

 A carved pumpkin in the middle of nowhere stared back at you. Beginning to sob, your frame shook as you tried to remain quiet; the pumpkin roared to life at your feet with a familiar blue flame. The specter which dragged you here sprouting from the vegetation. “Oh Love, look at you!” Through your watery eyes, you could see her now. She was stunning. Her pale blue skin was glowing and appeared to almost evaporate into the air the farther from the pumpkin her extremities were. She looked ethereal. Her cheeks round as her soft lips curved up into a smile. She had no pupils, instead, they were glowing sclera in the same hue of everything else. The flame which lured you sat in a pumpkin cage upon her chest. Strapped to her tiny frame, the expression of the pumpkin taunted you with a grin of malice. Her clothing was old, something you’d see in a history textbook.

 “A cute little thing like you should be careful out here.”

 Floating she began to crawl up your legs. “They say the Witch of the Wilds lives around these parts… She wouldn’t be above cursing a pretty thing like you…” Gripping your chin with her hand; surprisingly having weight behind her touch.  Her touch felt like silk, the warmth of fire seeping through into your skin. “Please, please don’t hurt me…” Your lips trembling in fear as you spoke. She laughed again, her nose scrunching as the sound flooded your ears. She blew a stray chunk of hair from her face. “Oh, I won’t hurt you. Something as pretty as you should be preserved, Love.” She was now hovering over you completely. “Which is exactly what I plan to do.”

 “What do you mean? Please let me go!”

 “Oh, I’m not going to do that. Don’t want ol’ Reapy picking you up now; I’m thinking that old witch has been owing me for a while now but you came by. I guess we have to wait sometimes for something we really want. Wouldn’t cha say, Love?”

 She had floated herself over you like a cage but her free hand traveled to force your legs open. Trying to weasel herself between them and cage you in further. Instinct kicking in you laid an open palm smack against the ghoulish woman. Her head remaining to the side as you squirmed trying to get free. Her expression growing dark as she turned back to you.

 “Cheeky.”

 The grip on your chin hard and bruising. Her face drawing closer and closer; once her lips touched yours it burnt. A warmth you never felt was consuming your body, eating away your strength as you fell weaker and weaker. Just like her skin, her lips were soft as silk; it was getting harder to keep your eyes open. Unable to even lift your arms anymore as she pulled away, a trail of yellow light trailing between you, mixing into her own flesh.

“Don’t worry Love, I’ll get you your own pumpkin. I’m going to keep you forever~”

Her voice taking a sing-song tone as your vision started to fade to black. Her hand rubbing your cheek as you faded into oblivion.

 People searched for the missing hiker; your friends and family searched day and night along the park trail. It took months but they found you. Beyond a line of brush and trees which lay on the edge of a cliff; your bones lay bare at the bottom in an abandoned graveyard. A pumpkin growing from what remained of your rotting flesh.

Local kids then spread rumors of the ‘Will-o-the-wisps’ haunting the trail. Two ghostly women bound together by chin serving the Witch of the Wilds; luring passersby and late-night hikers deep into the woods, never to be seen again. Surely fiction derived from the Halloween classic; an old story written to keep people from going into the forest. There’s no way any of it was real.