#it was so funny being at a house party and seeing someone having the misfortune of stating their stupid opinion on kosovo or nato to her
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#it's kind of true#one of my best friends in uni was this liberal serbian girl#she followed a pretty standard run of the mill turbo urban liberal thought you would find in like london or amsterdam but#she was a hardcore serb nationalist at the same time#it was so funny being at a house party and seeing someone having the misfortune of stating their stupid opinion on kosovo or nato to her#she was merciless with it#most liberal metropolitan serb#meeting her brother was funny though as he had a chetnik tattoo and he was vibing well with my azovite ukrop friend#vid
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do you have any merlin fic recs?
So I actually just gave several recs to someone last night asking from them in a comment thread on one of my fics. I'm just going to copy and paste that here since it's got all the links. These are all Merthur, M or E-rated.
The (Not So) Misfortunate Adventures of Merlin's Dick...Pic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448158 (Merlin accidentally sends a dick pic to Arthur. Short, but funny and cute.)
lady_ragnell has lots of good Merthur fics; two of my favourites are The Future Soon https://archiveofourown.org/works/317838 (While scrying at one of Morgana's dinner parties, Arthur and Merlin see themselves married five years in the future and do everything they can to prevent it. Spoiler alert: they fail.)
No Matter How Far Away You Roam: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069420 (Arthur asks Merlin to be his fake husband for Christmas with his family.)
But really if you haven't read any of their work, I'd go through their (very large) backlog of fics and pick whatever strikes your fancy. There's another one where they work at a publishing house together and Arthur founds a new imprint of gay romance which he wants Merlin to write for; somehow he manages to miss that he's been living in a gay romance for years: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366393
Gibraltar May Tumble by shes_gone (Reincarnation fic; Merlin moves into a house on the coast which is being haunted by Arthur, a Victorian-era sea captain stuck between life and death.) https://archiveofourown.org/works/562861
Also Can't Buy Me Love by the same author: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372276 (It's a Mad Men AU set in the 60s where they all work at an advertising agency, but you don't have to have watched the show to make sense of it; I've never seen it and still really enjoyed the fic.)
All Bets Are Off by Magnolia822: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523143/chapters/925441 (Arthur bets he can stay in a relationship longer than Merlin can stay single. Of course the bet backfires.)
Where I'm Meant To Be by WhiteRoseCottage: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911394/chapters/29498163 (Sweet Arthur Returns fic that's just a nice, soft little story about Arthur learning to live in the modern world and these two idiots realising their feelings for one another.)
Fools of Us All by adelagia: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746374 (Merlin accidentally spills a love potion on himself and makes everyone in Camelot fall in love with him. Except Arthur.)
Neither fish nor fowl by the same author: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746395
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P&P Chapters 17 and 18
(Chapter 16)
At last, a little movement on the scoreboard!
Lizzy gets knocked down a peg to +20
Mr. Darcy holds completely still at -10.
~~~
Chapter 17
(Jane) and yet, it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham.
I think it's time to learn a new life skill.
I can't help but wonder how long this Significant Misunderstanding about things is going to last. Long misunderstanding? Short one? Middling? (No spoilers, please, just wondering aloud to myself.)
Lizzy: "...Besides, there was truth in his looks.”
OMG, stop relying on that as proof of honesty! I'm taking another 5 points off for frustrating me.
“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough—I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody.”
Marytron 2000 strikes again.
Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply.
After tripping herself up multiple times, finally she sees a battle she doesn't want to pick. Of course it's with her mother.
the very shoe-roses for Netherfield were got by proxy.
...the heck is a shoe-rose? Anyone care to share a footnote?
~~~
Chapter 18
(Lizzy) She had dressed with more than usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than might be won in the course of the evening.
I'm too demisexual for this nonsense. Child, you've spoken with him once before, and now you want him in love with you on the second meeting. *eyeroll* Moves as fast as a Disney princess, this one.
Lizzy: “Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.”
Stubborn lil' thing. But funny.
He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.
Oh SOMEBODY finally remembered to take a modicum of charm with him when he left his house. Paltry, though cute, so no points given.
Is it just me or does Sir William Lucas ship Lizzy and Darcy? He absolutely ships it.
“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”
I'm giving him 5 points for bringing up a topic of mutual interest, even though Lizzy is not interested in playing along right now.
Meanwhile, Lizzy needs to be shaken. Well, I can kind of understand not wanting to take advice from someone she dislikes (Miss Bingley), but at the same time, girl, get some curiosity and find some facts, dammit.
Gossip gossip gossip, buncha gossip.
“I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley’s sincerity,” said Elizabeth warmly; “but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only...."
HAVE SOME OF THAT SUSPICION TOWARD WICKY. OMG, Lizzy, you're killing me. You do this one more time, and I'm taking more points off.
Mr. Collins: “My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world in your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of your understanding;..."
Oh just fry this guy in oil already. Drop kick him to the continent, please.
...was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken.
I want to be left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken at every party.
(Lizzy) She looked at her father to entreat his interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint, and when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud, “That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”
Oh thank goodness. Finally, you've made a good contribution, Mr. Bennet.
She owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins’s conversation to herself.
Charlotte is the true MVP of this book. Favorite. New blorbo unlocked.
(Chapters 19 and 20)
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Snoring
Pairing: Camilo x fem!Oc (Lorena Moreno) both 15 years old
Summary: Camilo and Lorena don't have the best of relationships...but will the sound of snoring spark something more?
Warnings: none
Notes: Fluff i guess
Lorena Moreno is short, skinny, pale, with hair as blonde as Rapunzel's (before they cut her poor hair) and bright green eyes, she is stubborn and loves food.
Lorena and Camilo have always had a bizarre relationship. They never got along very well, but they always loved to pick on or irritate the other.
Much to poor Camilo's misfortune, it seemed he could never get rid of her for 24 hours, as Lorena Moreno, was also Mirabel's best friend, who spent much of the day and night at the Madrigal home.
Today, for a change there was going to be a slumber party scheduled between the two best friends...Camilo knowing about such an event already started to come up with a scheme to annoy the green-eyed blonde.
Lorena, already seeing the Madrigal's house, runs to the door which opens immediately when she sees the girl.
- "Hi casita!"
She enters and walks up to Mirabel's room, until she is interrupted by a voice:
- "Hola, hermosa. Why don't you move in here? Since you spend more than half your annoying life in the casita." - mumbled Camilo
Lorena sighed deeply and sketched a fake smile, turning to Camilo.
- "Cállate feo" -she said sweetly, walking to Mirabel's room to help her get everything ready.
Camilo rolled his eyes
Already as they get ready for bed, they decided to play an imitation game between the two of them.
-"Okok who am I? 'Seven foot frame, rats along his back...'"
Lorena began to do Camilo's famous pose and dance
Mirabel burst out laughing, but someone who was listening didn't find it very funny.
-"You have really captured my essence... let me reveal yours" -said Camilla sarcastically changing his appearance to look like Lorena.
- "MIRABEL!!!! I can't reach the last shelf of the fridge!" - Camilo dramatizes - "Because I'm a dwarf" - he completes laughing
Lorena looks furious at Camilo and he looks smugly at her for 5 minutes.
- "I hate you!" - they both say
Mirabel coughs feeling uncomfortable
- "Uhm... do you want to stay with us Camilo?" - Mirabel asked, realising he wouldn't leave them alone
- "MIRABEL. NO!" - shouted angrily Lorraine
Camilo smiled devilishly.
- "Of course cousin, since you insist so much."
After a while and already tired, they decide to go to bed. Camilo ends up staying in Mirabel's room.
- "Good night!" - says Mirabel
- "Good night" -they both say.
And finally they try to sleep. But something terrifyingly loud and deep draws them away from their beauty sleep.
Snoring sound
Mirabel tries to put a pillow her ears, but nothing seems to work. She tries to shake Camilo, but nothing works and decides to ask Lorena for help.
- "Lorena!" - Mirabel whispers and was about to call out again until she noticed the look on the blonde's face
She was looking with deep curiosity at Camilo, as if she was studying every freckle.
- "Lorena what are you doing?" - Mirabel asked worriedly.
Lorena makes a sound for her to shut up and just answers
-It's the only chance to see him as an angel" -she whispers with a smile
Mirabel looks at her in shock and just says:
- "If he knew what you said I think you would suffer more for the teasing"
- "Then it's a good thing he'll never know." - she says sighing thinking - "For now I prefer to admire his cuteness without him being aware." and she smiles starting to sleep to the sound of Camilo Madrigal's lovely snores that she so loved listening to
What she didn't know is that a certain Madrigal, just pretended to fall asleep within seconds to listen to the private conversations of the two, but upon hearing such a statement just continued to pretend, but now with rosy cheeks, a heart beating fast and an involuntary smile on his lips.
A.N: It's not very good. Sorry
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Make my messes matter
Word count: 2090
Pairing: Steve x Tony
Warning: Hurt/Comfort.
Summary: Tony has a bad day at home and Steve comforts him.
Tony rests his head against the cold metal, holding tightly his bag against his chest. He closes his eyes while the music fills his surroundings. It’s almost midnight and he has nowhere to go. Nowhere to sleep. Tony feels the tears prick his eyes, biting his lower lip to not allow a sob to come out. He’ll not cry. Not anymore.
He didn’t do anything wrong, but Howard never believes him. Not surprising, though. Yet, being kicked out of the house wasn’t something he was expecting. Of course, he had plans to move out from his parents long ago, but he’d never put them in order. He hoped that he would have more time. More time to build and secure life for himself. A life where he wouldn’t need Howard’s money to survive. But at 18, life isn’t what anyone expects it to be.
It’s a funny and ironic story that he wanted to grow up when he was a kid, and now he wishes he was a kid again. He wishes he didn’t have to worry so much or feel so overwhelmed at such a young age. But he’s Tony Stark and people expect better of him. They expect too much when all Tony wants is to work on his own projects. He wasn’t ready to assume a high post in his father’s company. Not yet. There was so much he wanted to do.
So many places to go. So many things to see, to listen to, to touch, to know. He didn’t want to spend his life in an office, barking orders around, filing paperwork. He wanted so much more to himself. Of course, Howard couldn’t see it that way. He said he was tired of Tony’s excuses to assume his place in the world, he was tired of having supported him his entire life, just for Tony to refuse when he’s offered the post of director in the R&D department. In fact, he’s tired of Tony. He’s been tired of his son long ago. And Tony was tired of living from crumbs. Crumbs of love. That’s not what life is supposed to be.
After Maria’s death, things just got worse. Howard became a constant burden on his shoulders, always asking and demanding more of him. As if he could never be enough. As if Howard had fed him his entire life just to reap the fruits of his work now. As if Tony owes him an entire life and that he should be paying back now. Tony couldn’t see an exit to himself. He couldn’t see a light out of that. He felt like a bird constantly locked in a cage. Unable to sing his beauty. To become what he was born to: fly freely. Spreading beauty in the world.
But Howard could never understand the meaning of such simple words as no, or I’m not ready or give me more time. He crushed Tony into expectations that he may never be capable of achieving. It hurts. So after being hit, insulted, mocked, he was done, then Howard screamed for him to get the hell out of his house. His house, he emphasized. After all, Tony couldn’t be more than a mere tenant living under his father’s roof while he worked out his life.
Fuck.
He’s so fucked up.
The automatic voice sounds inside the train, letting him know that he will descend in the next station. Tony sighs, looking at the empty wagon. There is some freedom in it, to be able to walk away and don’t look back. To be able to follow his own path. But for an eighteen-year-old, unemployed, and who just had graduated, freedom is always frightening. There isn’t any expectation of life. What could he do? He’d had to work his way out of this. To start job-hunting, and conciliate it with his master’s degree, which he just had been admitted to. Scary. Terrifying. So lost.
No prospect of life. No home. Just a few banknotes and his credit cards in his wallet. A couple of clothes in his bag. Nothing to offer. Why would someone take pity on him? Why would someone take him in?
Tony tucks his headphones inside his bag, holding on a post as the rails brakes, the sound is almost comforting for the fact that tonight he has a destination in mind. Tomorrow, he will think about somewhere else. But for tonight, he prays that he can count on Steve.
For his misfortune, Howard chose to kick him out at the moment that his closest friends were far away. He didn’t know Rhodey’s location since he was on a mission for the Air Force, and Pepper was in Vancouver for the next three months. He had nowhere to go, but Steve’s.
Tony was afraid of how Steve would react when he knocked on his door at… Tony glances down at his phone, 12:41 a.m. He had hung out with Steve before, he could say that they were friends. Steve is a good friend, actually, but Tony feels more for him than he’s able to voice and since he had embarrassed Steve at a party weeks ago, when he vomited on his shoes after drinking too much, then told him he loved him in front of everyone since then Tony hasn’t answered his calls or texts until he finally stopped receiving them.
Fate is a bitch, though, and here he is asking for shelter for the very same man.
Tony strides through the streets of Brooklyn, he doesn’t know the neighborhood very well, but he knows where Steve’s building is. Tony gasps, rubbing his hands together to warm them up a little bit. It’s November, but the weather gets especially cold at night. He can see his breath whenever he exhales. Tony hurries up the stairs, getting breathless easily due to his heart condition. At least, he’d remembered to pack his medication, only enough for the next two months, though.
Because being homeless and unemployed is not enough in his list of failures, he also had to have a chronic illness.
Tony stops before the door with the number 13. He raises a fist, taking a deep breath. Steve must be sleeping, and he hates the fact that he is about to disturb him. Tony looks at the stairs again, thinking that he could wait there until morning, but Steve would be mad if he knew that Tony didn’t call him. Tony knocks hard. Harder than he should. Maybe, he should call Steve’s phone, although, after weeks without any news from him, it would look weird. It was already weird standing here in the middle of the night after confessing. Tony raises a fist again, wondering if Steve would really get up and check the door but before he could knock again, the door opens.
“Tony?” Steve frowns, staring at him. He rubs his beautiful eyes. Tony feels helpless, unable to acknowledge the emotions in his features, he can’t tell what Steve might be thinking just looking at his face.
“Steve, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, I-” Tony starts to say.
“You didn’t. I was watching a movie,” Steve says, looking at both sides of the corridor before stepping aside. “Come in.”
Tony does. Steve locks the door behind him, throwing the keys on the kitchen counter. His apartment is small, but it’s cozy and it serves Steve well. It feels warm inside here.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Steve takes Tony's bag from his shoulder, putting it on the couch. Tony sees a movie he doesn’t know playing on the TV and a blanket and cushions on the couch. “Are you hurt?” Steve’s blue eyes scan him from top to bottom.
“No. I-I am fine,” Tony assures him.
“C’mon here. You must be cold,” Steve goes to the kitchen, and Tony follows him timidly. “It’s still hot, I made it minutes ago.” Steve hands him a mug filled with hot chocolate. It smells so good and tastes incredible when Tony takes a sip. “Nothing better than hot chocolate to warm you up,” Steve smiles.
Tony agrees, adding in his mind that there’s nothing better than hot chocolate to push away the distress in his chest. Tony rubs his eyes, feeling them dry for the fact that he had cried earlier, and Steve must’ve noticed how red and swollen they are because he asks again:
“What happened, Tony?”
Tony ponders if he should tell the truth or just invent an excuse. He ends up with the truth because it’s Steve, and he hates lying to Steve.
“My father kicked me out. I have nowhere to go.”
Steve looks… He doesn’t know how Steve looks. Pitiful? Sad? Relieved? It’s hard to know. Steve is only three years older than him; they met in an art exposition months ago in the National Academy School of Fine Arts. Pepper is passionate about Arts, and she dragged Tony along that day. It was his lucky day that Steve was exposing his work there, they ended up talking and exchanging phone numbers. After that, Tony asked him out to a few parties, one of which embarrassed Steve in front of everyone. He couldn't forget about that. But nothing really happened between the two of them, except for some stares and slight brushing of hands.
“I’m sorry, Tony.”
“I don’t wanna bother you, but--”
“Of course you can stay, Tony,” Steve cuts him off, walking in his direction.
“Oh,” Tony lets out when Steve's big arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug. “It feels nice.” Well, Tony didn’t have the intention to say it out loud. He steps back, breaking the hug. “I-I-” what?
“Yes, it felt nice, too,” Steve looks almost fond of him, but… Tony didn’t want to get attached. He couldn’t, what if Steve didn’t love him? Tony feels already loveless. He couldn’t bear the thought of being fed with crumbs again.
“Thanks,” Tony says, he passes through Steve to wash his now empty mug. “I really appreciate it. I didn’t think you would take me in after that party.”
Steve comes to his side, a frown on his face.
“What? Why?”
“I-I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I literally threw up on your shoes, then I--” Tony stutters nervously because he always feels nervous next to Steve. The blond always gives him butterflies in the stomach, he just can’t help it.
“Oh, no. Why,” Steve shakes his head, looking confused. “Why would you think that, Tony? You almost passed out. You leaned on me all the way back. Why would you think I was mad at you?”
“Why would you not?” Tony blurted out. “You took me to my house, and I--” Tony breathes deeply. “I thought I had embarrassed you in front of your friends, I made a scene, and I told you--” he stutters. “I-I didn’t want to make it weird to you. I understand if you--” Tony shakes his head, gulping. He couldn't help but frown when Steve laughed.
“I was more worried about you than embarrassed. Trust me, Tony. You didn’t call me to tell me you were okay the next morning. I was worried. You didn’t answer my calls either. I thought you had changed your mind about what you said,” Steve sounds… sorrowful.
Tony blinks. He really thought Steve was mad at him, he really thought… Did he really misunderstand it all? It wasn’t possible, right? Steve was just being his usual self, kind and nice. He couldn’t really...
“Wait, you…” Tony points to Steve.
“You didn’t embarrass me,” Steve shrugs. “I love you, too. I called to tell you that but you didn’t answer me.”
“I--”
Tony wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, tiptoeing to reach his lips, aware of Steve’s hands sliding to his waist to support him. Tony tastes the hot chocolate in Steve’s mouth, and it somehow suits him because Steve smells like home. Everything about Steve is cozy, lovely, and adorable. Tony feels a warmth flowing through his body, the feeling of safety invades him. He knows he can trust Steve, somehow, he knows, he wants to believe that Steve will not abandon him. Perhaps, that’s a love that he can let himself get attached to.
Steve breaks the kiss, still keeping Tony in his tight embrace.
Tony rests his head against Steve’s chest. “You can stay for as long as you need, Tony,” Steve kisses the top of his head. “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
#steve rogers#tony stark#stony#stony fic#stevetony#steve x tony#steve rogers x tony stark#marvel#marvel fic#mcu fanfiction#hurt/comfort
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Haunted – Student Spirits Kiyomi Haunterly Diary
30/04
I had one of those dreams last night where I was running like I was a solid. It was so liberating to feel the grass on my toes and the hard surface of the ground with each step I took. The clouds were so far above me that I could not touch them, and I had to go around obstacles instead of over or through them. Then the dream changed, and I was standing in a big room with many other solids, and there was music and dancing and beautiful party dresses, and I woke up. I must have been dream flying, because I was hovering above our house. I floated back down to my bedroom and tried to go back to sleep in hopes of rejoining the party in my dream, but I could not. I just floated there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember every detail. I liked the feeling of being in the middle of the party instead of quietly watching from the sidelines. I suppose I must have been trying harder than I realized to reconnect to the dream world, because something unexpected and remarkable happened. A tiny hole opened above me – not in the roof – but in the air. Light from another world poured into my room like reality had sprung a leak. Had I just opened a portal into the dream world? I gasped, lost concentration, and it was gone. I do not know what happened or how, but I must find out.
01/05
Today as I was passing through the halls and trying to avoid breaking one of Principal Revenant’s many rules, I heard a voice above me say, “Hey Kiyomi, why so blue?” I looked up to see Porter floating on his back, balancing a spray can of ghost paint on one finger. I can never tell if Porter is teasing or being serious, but I glanced down at my hands, and they were indeed the color of a blue funk; although they were quickly taking on a purplish tinge as scarlet embarrassment washed over me. Porter floated down and passed down the hall next to me. “You’ve really been stuck on cerulean lately – what’s up with that?” How could I tell him that I was sad because of a dream? So instead I told him that I was surprised he even noticed me at all. He laughed and said, “I’m an artist and you have colorful personalities – why wouldn’t I notice you?” I am afraid I blushed again, but Porter pretended not to notice as he turned and painted a mustache on a poster of Principal Revenant. I asked if he was afraid of getting in trouble. “Nah, it’ll disappear before she sees it, although boo knows – she might like it.” I cannot tell why I felt at that moment that I could trust him – but I did – so I asked if he ever wanted to be something other than what he was. I thought he might laugh at me, but he got a serious look on his face instead. “Sometimes I think unlife would be easier if I was just a regular ghost, if there really is such a thing. But if I was just a regular ghost I wouldn’t be able to do this.” Then Porter rose to the ceiling, and using a can of paint in each hand, wrote:
A quiet presence
Kiyomi Haunterly ghost
In colors beauty speaks
It was the nicest thing any ghost has ever done for me, and I stood there looking up at it until the ghost paint faded away. I could hear Porter laughing as he disappeared through a wall. “That’s a lovely shade of blush you have on.” Well, at least there wasn’t enough blue left to turn it purple.
03/05
Tonight I successfully opened another portal. This time I was able to hold it open a little longer, but instead of light shining through I heard the sound of laughter. It was not the mocking laughter of someone who is happy at your misfortune, but the genuine laughter of friends. I wanted to look through to see who was making such a joyful noise. Unfortunately, my kaiju woke up and roared like he needed to go out, so I lost concentration and the portal closed again. I must learn more about this ability, though I dare not tell or risk asking any ghost. I shall go tomorrow to the library and find out what there is to know, if there is something to know.
04/05
Oh my ghost. I copied this page on portals from a reference book in the library:
There are only three known ways to travel between the ghost world and the world of solids. The first – and it all practicality, only way – available to the majority of ghosts is to secure passage on one of the reaper vessels that navigate the currents of light, which in certain places link the two worlds. This is by far the most reliable method, although final reservations must be made at least a day in advance, as float-up passengers are always turned away.
The second way is also via reaper, as their scythes have the power to slice through the unseen barrier that separates the two worlds. Reapers do not, however, make outward-bound trips with passengers.
The third and final way is a power seemingly unique to the infamous “Red Lady.” Although she never elaborated how her powers work, it is theorized that she had the ability to open a portal to any place in the solid world by simply willing it. This theory remains unproven mainly because, when asked how she did it, the Red Lady’s reply was, “Wouldn’t boo like to know?”
I haven’t been opening portals to the dream world – I’ve been opening them to the solid world. What do I do now? Will I become the next Red Lady?
06/05
It has not taken long for curiosity to sweep aside any haunting worries of becoming the next Red Lady. I am not her, I am me. So now, after many hours of practice, I can open a portal large enough to see through, and can keep it open even if I become distracted. I have been watching a group of monster ghouls who seem to be very close, and for whom friendship plays a large role in their unlives. I am most fascinated by a vampire ghoul called Draculaura. I think her fashion sense is… totes adorbs… and her vocabulary, while strange to my ears, is simply put… fun. I have even started using little bits of it in my everyday speech, and I have made several of my school mates genuinely laugh out loud. This is strange to me, and I believe to them as well, as they have remarked, “Kiyomi, we had no idea you were so funny – where do you come up with this stuff?” I simply tell them that I have a good teacher, and then leave them wondering who that might be.
08/05
I opened a portal today and what – or rather who – I saw caused me to break out in ghost bumps. It happened like this: Draculaura was showing off a new pair of shoes. I was fascinated by their design, so much so that I did not pay attention to anyone or anything else around me. That is when I heard Draculaura say, “Spectra! Check out my new purchase. Aren’t they just to un-die for?” Spectra Vondergeist! She and I had been beast friends before she left the ghost world for the solid. I quickly closed the portal hoping she had not seen me. Perhaps I am being selfish, but I do not wish any ghost or solid to know about my newfound ability. It is my secret alone, at least for now.
10/05
I have taken much courage from haunting out with my “friend” Draculaura. I have already begun to use some of her words, and now I think I should like to imitate her style. That is why I journeyed to the phantom island of Hy Brasil today in order to shop at the fashion markets there, which are… totes off the chain. My family is friends with the captain of a ghost yacht, and since he was taking his own family over, I asked if I might go along. The island was already scary busy by the time we arrived, and I was orange with expectation. I promised to meet everyone back at the yacht by sundown and then faded into the crowd. The first thing I did was head straight to where the fashion vendors were selling their wares. There were fabrics in more colors than even I could feel! I felt unalive in a way that I never had before, and for the first time in my unlife, being anonymous didn’t make me shy. It made me bold. I even bargained with some of the sellers to get a better price. Before I would buy anything, though, I would duck into a dressing room and haunt in on Draculaura and the ghouls to try and match the fashions they were wearing. I only saw one other ghost that I knew, and that was River Styxx, but I saw her on the other side of a crowded square, and I was able to vanish from sight before she saw me again. I like River, she has always been very kind to me, but I wanted this to be my day. Maybe that was selfish of me, but it was how I felt at that moment. The day ended too soon, and before I knew it we were casting off and motoring out of the harbor. On the way to Hy Brasil I stayed in my cabin. On the way back I stood on the bow. As the wind blew through my hair, I knew I was going to do something bold with my unlife. I cannot wait to begin.
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I’m so tired today but I was able to finish this quick fic I’ve been meaning to write, so please enjoy some Ilie lore in which a 4 year old gets traumatized pretty much.
Roughly 1500~ words.
Rated T for use of strong language and minor implications of potential violence.
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Ignorant
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Weiss’s doubts about how long she can keep up this facade finally fade. The facade is over for him.
, , , , ,
Ilie had never enjoyed yelling. He didn’t hear it much, aside from the few occasions his parents would squabble, but his moms would make up, the yelling wouldn’t go too far.
Whoever it was yelling with his Mother downstairs though, was starting to genuinely scare him. He didn’t know what was going on, and if Ilie wasn’t terrified of the masculine voice that was yelling, he’d go and see for himself who was even here.
Ilie hugged his stuffed bear, a present he’d gotten at his birthday party when he turned one. He only knew this though, because that’d been what he was told.
When the door to his room opened he flinched, but calmed when he saw his Mom had walked in.
“Ilie? Are you okay?” She asked, the green haired woman walking to where he was sitting in bed.
“Who’s Mother arguing with?” He asked.
“I… Someone I don’t think you want to meet, he really hates me,” She said, picking Ilie up, “Unfortunately what’s going on is adult business and this argument has to happen for anything to get done. You want to hide in my room and watch a movie?”
“Yeah!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms out.
“Alright, we’ve got to go across the hall though, I need you to be quiet, it’s so your Mother doesn’t get worried, alright?” His Mom explained to him.
“Okie!” He said. When she stood up and opened the door he covered his mouth with his hands to keep silent. The arguing grew louder, and he grew closer to his Mom as she grew swifter in her feet. They passed the railing as his Mother was screaming. He got a glimpse of the man yelling with her. He was incredibly tall, had dark blue hair, and looked like someone he’d see at a fancy party.
“YOU KNOW WHAT I DON’T UNDERSTAND IS HOW YOU CONTINUE TO SHOW UP AND DEMAND T-“ They’d been passing along the top railing, Ilie made eye contact with his Mother and she stopped yelling instantly.
“THAT I CAN’T SEE HIM? NO SHIT! YOU PEOPLE ARE ALL THE SAME!” He screamed back, “WHAT ARE YOU EVEN LOOKING AT? ARE YOU FINALLY REALIZING I MAY BE RIGHT?” He grabbed her chin as his Mom let out a gasp.
“LET GO OF ME!” His Mother screamed, grabbing his hand and shoving it away. He growled and turned around to follow Ilie’s Mother’s eyes. When the eyes landed on him he dropped his hands.
“LOOK WHAT YOU DID YOU IGNORANT LOUSY EXCUSE FOR A MOTHER! HE HEARD YOU SCREAM AND YOU SCARED HIM, WHAT’S HE THINK OF YOU N-“
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” She exploded into full out rage, “I DRAW THE LINE AT INSULTING HOW I MOTHER MY SON!”
“AND HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW YOU’VE LIED TO HIM? YOU KNOW WHAT, I’M OUT!” He shouted, stomping past the white haired woman and exiting the home, slamming the front door behind him.
Ilie’s breathing had elevated as he stared at the enraged figure of his Mother. A few moments passed and the rage turned to sadness as she broke into tears. He felt himself being put on the floor as his Mom rushed downstairs to comfort her.
“Weiss! Are you okay?” She asked, the white haired woman continued to cry.
“I-I need to g-get a restraining or-order on him…” She sobbed out.
“Shh… You need to calm down, this kind of stress is bad for the girls…” Oh yeah. Ilie sometimes forgot about the fact he was going to be an older brother to his baby twin sisters when they were born.
He turned to the stairs and headed down them.
The words of the man rang in Ilie’s head.
‘He doesn’t even know you’ve lied to him.’
Was it him he was talking about?
Ilie sat down beside his moms who were now sitting against the wall.
“Mother…” He began, before he even asked the question he saw her face pale, “What did he mean when he… Yelled that you’d been lying to ‘him’? Who’s him?”
“Ilie…” His Mother began, pulling Ilie in to hug him, “Ilie I…” She sniffled, “I need to tell you something…”
“You’re telling him?” His Mom said.
“What choice do I have? Henry was right anyways…” So Henry was the man’s name. Where had he heard that before? His Mother continued, “Ilie I… Want to tell you that before I explain this, I love you so so much and no matter how I phrase anything I’m about to say there’s nothing about you to change and you are so perfect just the way you are…”
“Ok..?” Ilie scooted to look his Mother directly in the eyes.
“That man was your… He’s your…” She tried to begin, “Alright how about a story instead.”
“Five years ago, I was at a dinner party. It was in relation to the Company, so your Mom wasn’t there with me,” His Mother explained, “I… Grew to be in a funny state due to the drinks I was having then, and that man and I had an exchange. A particular exchange that is equivalent to ‘when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much’ sort of situation…”
“And then you came into the world, Ilie.” The sudden end confused the four year old. His blue eyes pierced the similar color blue of his Mother’s eyes.
“Why did I come after that?” He asked.
“Ilie… I… Well… You know how they are here? Because Uncle Neptune was willing to help in the process of their existence?” She said, placing a hand on her belly.
“Yeah… Sort of… Isn’t that like how he’s kind of their…” He trailed off, looking for a word.
“Biologically he’s the man who created them,” She completed the thought.
“Weiss, just tell him or don’t tell him, this is going on for too long,” His Mom interrupted, to which his Mother scowled.
“Ilie, that man is the man who partially created… You…”
He… Didn’t really understand? Why did that matter in this case? It could be-
Oh…
Reality hit.
His eyes welled up in tears as he began to cry. His Mother placed her hands on his cheeks and placed her forehead on his.
“Listen… No one is going to ever know, because that’s not what I told the public, I… It is true that you definitely weren’t planned from the beginning but I want you to know I regret nothing about having you. You’re my everything, and I would do anything for you. I-I love you, sweetie… Your Mom loves you too… S-So so so much…” She was breaking down into even heavier tears, “I don’t want you to ever get to properly meet him, he’s horrible, he hates your Mom just because she was misguided and manipulated into the wrong side of a war, he doesn’t like that me and your Mom are together because we’re two women.”
“Basically she’s telling you he doesn’t like that I’m a former thief and war criminal that’s a girl who’s with your mother, you don’t need to be around someone like that,” His Mom better explained, “I… Never have talked to him, I’ve been involved in one of… Those… Before… And that was just before you were born…”
“In fact it was the reason your birthday is October 20th, that…”
“Rude man.”
“F-Found out you were his quote on quote son and we argued for hours as to why you weren’t,” She said, “You realize you almost died because of that, right?” Ilie nodded his head.
“I’m so sorry by the way… About all of this…” His Mom said to his Mother, “I tried to get him to watch a movie but… He grabbed you I… I almost was about to jump down there and fight…”
“Do not ever apologize for anything related to that man,” She chuckled through her tears pulling the two in for a hug, “I love you both, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for either of you.”
“I love you too Mother,” Ilie squeezed his eyes shut as he buried his face into her chest.
“You know I love you,” His Mom said.
“I may be a bit ignorant but hey… I have a great family right here,” His Mother said.
“Ignorant? No. This satiation is… Not ignorance, it’s… Misfortune. Something we both learned from, and something Ilie can learn from,” She said.
“What’s that?” The white haired woman tilted her head.
“He knows that we’ve made sacrifices, and that those sacrifices were made because we love him this much,” She said, kissing Ilie’s head.
“Mommy!” Ilie said, thrusting his hands to her face while laughing.
“Hey, I’m just letting you know we love you!” The green haired laughed with him. His Mother was soon to join the laughing.
And yet.
That yelling still rang in his ears.
Ringing.
Loud.
And scary.
#rwby#rwbabies#rwbaby#ilie schnee#weiss schnee#rwby weiss#emerald sustrai#rwby emerald#rwby family jewels#henry marigold#rwby fanfic#rwby fanfiction#soni timeline
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I Hate That I... (pt. 4 - Y/N)
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 5 |
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2088
It’s the night of the party and you wish you’d brought gloves or something. You stick your hands into the pockets of your jacket, hiding them from the crisp air outside. If there was one thing you hated, it was having cold hands.
Sammi tugs you by the arm toward the house, and you notice the few people talking outside rather than inside. One of them catch your eye as you pass by; it’s Sanghyuk, and he’s talking to a girl who had the misfortune of being roped into conversation with him. She looks like she was enjoying the momentary attention, but just the thought of having to talk to any of Taeyang’s friends made you frown. Sanghyuk notices your stare, and returns it with a quizzical lift of his eyebrow. You don’t stop to acknowledge him, and it didn’t look like he was going to pause mid conversation, either, so you break the eye contact. You haven’t even been here for five minutes and you were already thinking of leaving.
“He’s kind of cute,” Sammi ushers you into the house, nudging past a few absent-minded people. “Isn’t he?”
You shake your head, pulling yourself away from Sammi and taking your hands out of your pockets. “You literally think everyone’s cute.”
“You’re right,” Sammi replies matter-of-factly, adjusting the straps on her top. You weren’t sure why she’d only gone for a sweater over her shirt; it was pretty cold for fall tonight, and you’d worn a layered jacket. Your friend wasn’t too happy with the less than stylish choice, but she let it slide, saying something about how you’d make it up to her later. You didn’t mind dressing up on occasion, but if you had to spend a cold night at this party, you’d rather be comfortable and warm than fashion forward.
“So,” you sweep your eyes around the room, taking in the casual setting. “What’s your plan, O wise one?”
“Well, it’s not really a great scheme like you may have thought. It’s very simple, very easy to follow through with.”
You waited, but you had an inkling of what she was suggesting.
“Let’s just say, I know two people who may be waiting for you,” your friend continues, looking over your shoulder as if searching for someone. “And don’t look now, but there’s one right over there. All you have to do is walk past him once, maybe twice, and let him come to you.”
You fight the urge to spin around, but you knew without even having to. It was probably Taeyang, canoodling with some poor unsuspecting person who thought they had all his attention. Not that it bothered you; the demon could do whatever he wanted, it wasn’t your business.
“Why would I do that?” you hiss, not liking the idea of being paraded back and forth. “Why can’t we just stay away and enjoy the party?”
Sammi sighs. “Y/N, you may be dense, but I’m not. Inseong didn’t just give you that invitation for no reason. He also didn’t give you his phone number for you to waste this opportunity. I bet you didn’t even text him once since the other day, did you?”
“Just to tell him we’d be coming.”
“Right, well, obviously Inseong didn’t just want an RSVP,” she sets a hand on your shoulder, giving you an almost pleading stare. “I’m willing to bet that he wanted to actually make conversation with you. Look at it this way- he stands up for you when Taeyang’s being a jerk. He makes sure you’re okay. If nothing else, I’d settle for believing that he wants to be friends. And, he gave you all the right conditions to make a move yourself, but you can’t just let it all go to waste. If you can be friends with Inseong, I don’t think you’d have to worry about Taeyang anymore.”
You weren’t sure why Sammi wanted to set you up with Inseong so badly, but it honestly wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk to him at all. To be fair, you wanted to be around Inseong; his whole aura was just so strangely calming for you, and it made you feel silly to think that since you barely knew the guy, but he somehow managed to make you feel both nervous and comfortable around him. Of course you wanted to get to know him better, you just didn’t know if he wanted the same.
“Okay, tell you what,” you sigh at last, setting a hand atop Sammi’s arm. “I’ll go parade myself around the house for a bit, and whoever comes to me first gets the honor of my company.”
A grin stretches across your friend’s face, replacing the serious expression she wore just a moment ago with excitement for you. “Great! While you do that, I’ll be looking around for some entertainment myself. If you need me, my phone’s on.”
With a final encouraging pat to your shoulder and a wink, Sammi slips past you and seemed to immediately disappear into the growing crowd. Already starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, you took a deep breath and turned, ready to catch a glimpse of whoever it was that she said was waiting for you. To your surprise, however, there was no one familiar anywhere around you; no Taeyang, no Inseong. Not even their friends.
“So much for the easy way out,” you muttered to yourself, pushing past people to head for the kitchen. Hopefully, they had some water or something else you could drink and pretend it was taking the edge off.
As you squeezed your way into the kitchen, you half expected to run into either of the boys. You weren’t sure why, but the anticipation had you on edge; you really wanted Inseong to find you first, but on the other hand, would you really mind if it was Taeyang instead? But right as that thought entered your mind, you kicked it back out. You weren’t going to let Taeyang get any kind of leverage over you, even if he didn’t know about it. Letting your guard down around Taeyang, like you did at the library just two days ago would mean losing. And you weren’t going to lose to Taeyang, of all people.
Inseong, however, you’d be willing to give a chance. Not that you even thought it would work out, since he was older and way out of your league. Embarrassed, you shake those thoughts out of your head, too. You weren’t making a decision on either of them yet.
Somehow in all of your wandering, you found yourself back at the front door. The porch seemed to be vacant for the moment, so you took the opportunity to catch some fresh air. You hadn’t run into anyone tonight, hadn’t even caught a glimpse of Sammi.
It was almost as if the universe was edging you on into chasing after one of the two. Quite frankly, you weren’t a very big fan of any kind of running, so you tried your best to ignore the universe’s persistent tugging. If you were meant to meet Taeyang or Inseong here tonight, then they’d come find you.
“What’s someone like you doing out here all alone?”
Seems like the universe can get impatient, too.
You turn around, expecting the cheesy line to have come from some loser looking for an easy lay. Instead, you see Inseong leaning against the doorframe, slight grin on his face. You feel yourself relax, smiling back before you could stop yourself.
“Someone like me?” you raise an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Inseong just smiles wider and joins you by the railing, leaning his elbows next to yours. “Got bored inside?”
“I don’t really know anyone else here,” you shrug. “And my friend left me with a quest.”
“Quest?” Inseong looks at you with a quizzical lift of his eyebrows. Your cheeks heat and you realize explaining Sammi’s plan for the night was not a good move unless you wanted to scare Inseong away. Which you definitely did not want to do.
“Nothing important,” you brush it off. “I don’t mind standing out here anyway. There’s something aesthetically pleasing about disconnecting yourself from a raging party and staring at a lawn, I guess.”
At that, Inseong chuckles, a warm sound you felt in your chest. In the dim light, you saw the sharp dimple at the corner of his lip. “It does sound like a nice aesthetic, if also a little lonely.”
You bite back a response quickly, suddenly too embarrassed to start flirting with him. Instead you nod and tip your head up to get a better view of the dark sky.
“You know, Taeyang isn’t such a terrible guy.”
You wished you’d just gone ahead and flirted, because now the conversation had taken a sour turn. Why couldn’t he have said something funny and cute? Why did he want to jump right into talking about Taeyang? You stay silent for a moment, hoping Inseong didn’t press you to reply.
“Well,” he continues. “He can come off like a bit of a jerk, but I promise that’s not all there is to him. You probably don’t know this but, we go way back. I’ve known Taeyang since he was barely a teenager.”
You weren’t sure why Inseong was giving you a history of Taeyang’s life, something you didn’t really care about hearing, but you didn’t think it was polite to interrupt him and say so. So you watch the grey clouds drift past as he talked.
“He’s never been good at expressing his emotions outright. You might not believe me, but Taeyang used to be very shy. He’d just sit so quietly and observe a conversation unless you asked him a question directly. Sometimes, you’d even forget he was there.”
You roll your eyes, something in the pit of your stomach flipping in an odd way that you didn’t quite like. “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”
It didn’t make sense to you that someone like Taeyang, who basked in attention and popularity like a cat does sunlight, could ever have been the quiet type.
Inseong shook his head. “He’s changed a lot, trust me. Maybe not for the better, but it’s a long way from where he used to be. But you know about that, too, don’t you?”
He was talking about your high school years with Taeyang, the way he’d managed to completely ruin your senior year. “I don’t know what he was like before high school, but he was the bane of my existence in senior year.”
When you turn your head to face Inseong, you see him focused intently on you. So you sigh and continue your recollection of how exactly Taeyang had turned into your “enemy”.
“I’ll spare you the overly dramatic details. Now you may not believe me, but once upon a time Taeyang and I actually got along.” You pause for dramatic effect, allowing Inseong to react. “We weren’t close or anything, but we also didn’t hate each other. And then he started getting on my nerves. I wish I knew the reason for it, but I don’t. It’s like he was purposely trying to make my life a living hell.”
You stopped to take a breath as the memories of his constant teasing and pointless bickering came back to you. Thinking back on it, both of you were immature and petty; it was childish. But Taeyang had started it, so that automatically made him the bigger child.
“And you think he does it because he hates you?” the older boy tilts his head, resting his chin on a palm.
“He wouldn’t try so hard if he didn’t,” you shrug, casting a sideways glance at the party.
Inseong was silent for a moment, as if considering both sides of a complicated story. “And you think he’d keep kissing you even if he hated you?”
You weren’t surprised that Inseong knew about how Taeyang held the kisses over you like some kind of award, but for some reason hearing it from him directly felt like a slap. “He’s trying to get under my skin. He’s using me, and I’m just letting him.”
You hoped your voice didn’t sound as unsure to Inseong as it did to you. But if he noticed the hesitation, Inseong ignored it and just offered you an understanding smile.
“You know you could stop it anytime you want, right?” Inseong fully turned to you, and you noticed how he was much closer to you than you thought. You shifted your gaze to the floor, staring hard at your feet. “You don’t have to keep playing along.”
You weren’t sure what to say, and a slightly breathless voice broke the heavy silence, saving you from having to answer at all.
“You can’t be thinking to quit so soon,” Taeyang said, the set of his shoulders and raise of his eyebrows reflecting the challenge in his voice.
“Things are just starting to get interesting.”
#fantasylibrary#sf9#sf9 fluff#sf9 scenarios#sf9 au#sf9 x reader#sf9 taeyang#sf9 inseong#sf9 youngbin#sf9 jaeyoon#sf9 dawon#sf9 sanghyuk#sf9 rowoon#sf9 seokwoo#sf9 juho#sf9 zuho#sf9 hwiyoung#sf9 youngkyun#sf9 chani#sf9 chanhee
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one of each for each otp,,,,, for brilliance/sienna: 3, 10 (prose boy...... ), 19, 31! for raini/ecstasy: 1, 14, 23, 26!
YES now my plan to make you care about my paladin you’ve never met can really come to fruition.....it worked for cog it can work for this gay bitch too.....
Super super minor nsfw for 23 and 26 for Raini, and I guess technically 31 for Brilliance but honestly not really. Enjoy!
Brilliance & Sienna
3. If they complimented each other, what would they say? Not to sound like a lesbian, but Brilliance thinks Sienna hung the moon. She’s so beyond smitten with this woman, and if anyone makes the mistake of asking her about her fiancée (which her party would never do because they’re a) hets who b) don’t care about rp) Brilliance would easily be able to spend hours talking about everything that makes Sienna the absolutely amazing woman she is. Brilliance admires Sienna’s patience, her quiet determination to get things done right, and her easy, calming presence. She’s compassionate and honest, and she makes the people around her want to be better than they are without having to say a word. She’s beautiful, inside and out, and Brilliance thanks Sune every day that fate brought them together. And check this out! Sienna loves Brilliance just as much! They’re in love! Sienna admires how willing Brilliance is to take charge in difficult situations, and that her primary concern when taking charge is making sure the people under her are safe. She’s intentional and unwavering in her resolve and devotion to the people she loves. Sienna loves how Brilliance is able to find beauty in just about anything, and how fiercely she’ll fight to protect the light and beauty she sees in the world. She loves her insistence on giving people second chances, even when they may not deserve it. Brilliance embodies the phrase “get behind me”, and while Sienna often wishes Brilliance would let her share that burden, she understands that Brilliance does what she does to show love. 10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them. It’s been three days since Conviction’s death. Since they found his body at least; he’d been missing longer than that. It was murder, anyone could see that, but no one has any delusions about it being investigated as one, let alone prosecuted. He shouldn’t have been involved with those rebels, people say. It’s his own fault for stirring up trouble where there didn’t need to be any. There’s been multiple times where Sienna’s quiet touch to Brilliance’s arm has been the only thing to keep her from lashing out at someone who implied that and while she’s grateful for the temperance, part of her can’t help feeling that grief hardened by anger might hurt less. It’s been three days since they pulled her brother’s body out of the sewers, and Brilliance knows she needs to go home. Her mother is devastated, her father considers his obligation to help fulfilled by paying for the funeral, and as loathe as she is to return to her childhood home Brilliance knows it’s her duty to be there. Sienna comes back to their tiny (Sienna calls it cozy to make Brilliance laugh), dingy (”lived in!” she insists) apartment to find Brilliance packing, and the pity in her gaze makes Brilliance tugs her arm free when Sienna reaches out for her. “I have to,” Brilliance says, resolutely keeping her focus on the suitcase laid out in front of her. “Sienna, my heart, I have to. My mother--” Sienna reaches out to cup Brilliance’s cheek, to tilt her face toward her. Brilliance, though reluctant, allows it. “Your mother,” Sienna chides gently, “is a grown woman, who is welcome to stay with us. We’ll make room. But starlight, you don’t need to be in that house. Not ever again, and certainly not right now. Stop for a minute, sit down, we can talk about this...” The conversation begins to unravel from there. Sienna is right; her father’s house is the worst place for Brilliance to be to grieve. Brilliance is right; Sienna is an only child, who lost her mother when she was young. She has no context to understand what Brilliance is going through. Neither of them raise their voice, but there’s an edge to their words that normally has no place in their home. Brilliance gets frustrated, feels herself start to get angry, and she makes the decision to walk away and cool down. She comes back to find Sienna asleep or feigning it, back to the door in a way that feels pointed. At that point it’s well after midnight, and Brilliance doesn’t know what to do about the conversation she’d walked out of. Eventually she goes to bed as well, facing the door, sleeping further from Sienna than she has since they moved in together. She knows better than to go to bed angry, but right now Brilliance can’t stomach the thought of reigniting their argument again that night. She closes her eyes, and hopes they can work things out in the morning before Brilliance leaves for home. 19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be? Brilliance: You are my peace, my joy, my steadfast foundation; my world is better for having you in it, and I will work for the rest of my life to make sure you can always say the same. Sienna: Whatever I did to earn it, thank you, starlight, for trusting me with you heart; it is my privilege and my honor to be for you what you are to so many others. 31. What do they love to do after sex? Probably, like. Kiss a bunch? Ew!! But like honestly? Yeah! I think they’re a Big fan of soft, sleepy morning sex, especially on days where Brilliance isn’t needed at the church until the evening and Sienna has the day off. Why not indulge on those days when you can doze off again for a little while, with your beloved asleep on your chest? Brilliance is running her fingers through Sienna’s hair and pressing the occasional kiss to the top of her head, Sienna is tracing absentminded shapes against Brilliance’s collarbone, and they’re just enjoying being warm and sleepy and together with no prospect of that changing anytime soon.
Raini & Ecstasy
1. What are things they both find funny? I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and say. Shitty people’s misfortune? Not necessarily objectively shitty people, just people they’ve decided they don’t like. Ecstasy telling a story about the dumbass fantasy customs agent she “tricked” (because tricked is a strong word, really. It wasn’t all that hard, and that’s what makes it So funny) into marking her ship with its cargo full of stolen goods and also probably like fantasy weed as “clean” to enter some city? Hilarious. Raini talking about casting Mage Hand under the table at some stuffy negotiations and pulling just hard enough on the chair leg of the asshole who’s already leaning back further than he should be and sending him crashing out of his chair? Fucking hysterical. They’re assholes, but they’re assholes together. And, at the end of the day, that’s what matters! 14. What would be a dealbreaker? At risk of sounding too predictable, for Raini it would have to be something along the lines of finding out that Ecstasy is and has been seeing someone else seriously while they’ve been together together. It’s one thing to sleep around a little when you’re still just a booty call, or even to meet someone pretty and check with your partner that they’re okay with you having a one night stand. If you’re communicating, and everyone involved is okay with it, that’s fine! However, it’s another thing entirely to find out that you’ve been playing second fiddle in terms of your long term girlfriend’s affection for god knows how long. Honestly, I’m not sure Ecstasy would survive an argument started by Raini finding something like that out. I won’t speak too much on Ecstasy’s dealbreaker so I don’t overstep or guess Wrong, but I feel like if we hadn’t gotten our memories back things would have eventually fallen apart. I don’t know if I think there would have been some big climactic fight to end things so much as a sort of just... fading away? A heartbreaking parallel to how slowly they’d entangled themselves in each other’s lives before, and really? Who could blame Ecstasy for pulling away from a situation like that. And without the memories and the context to know why it hurts so much now that things are different, I don’t know if Raini would have gone chasing after her. 23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language. They’re supposed to be keeping an eye out for some diplomat, Raini thinks. It’s some trouble about wanting to make sure he hadn’t been intimidated into feeding information or supplies to some foreign power, potentially by doing some intimidating themselves. It seemed important at the time, when they made plans to secure invitations to a ball they’d knew he’d be attending. It had seemed important when she’d stayed up the night before sewing hidden pockets into the folds of the dress she’d be wearing so that she would have some way of smuggling spell components in with her. In fact, it had seemed important up until Raini looked up toward the source of commotion across the ballroom and found herself staring at a tiefling who had absolutely no right to be here. She’s wearing a starch pressed naval uniform -admiral, at least, and almost certainly stolen- that looks like it was made for her, golden buttons and unearned medals gleaming in the candlelight, boots that hug her calves like it’s their damn job, head thrown back as she laughs at something she said-- Raini’s eyes widen then narrow, shocked then indignant that this criminal had the gall to show her face here. They make eye contact seconds later and Raini scoffs at the way the pirate’s eyebrows shoot up at the sight of her. And then she has the audacity to wave? A lazy, two fingered acknowledgement that has Raini glaring daggers in return and setting aside the champagne she’d picked up so that she can stalk across the room to give the pirate a piece of her mind. The pirate seems to have the same thought, and excuses herself from the conversation she’d been having to intercept Raini halfway. Her cocksure grin has only widened by the time their paths collide, and she effortless cuts off the scathing diatribe Raini had at the ready by extending her hand as an invitation to dance, and raising an eyebrow as a challenge to refuse. Raini, at a loss for words for one of the first times in her life, huffs and crosses her arms, turning up her nose in disdain. The audacity! The gall! The sheer impudence, it’s- It’s staggering. ...still. Raini’s eyes cut back to the fit of the pirate’s stolen uniform, to the shine of its gilding and her buffed leather boots, to the way she holds herself with the confidence that she has every right to be here and every expectation Raini will agree to dance. It’s absolutely infuriating; it’s the hottest thing Raini’s ever seen in her life. The pirate’s hand is warm when Raini takes it, and the hand that settles low on her waist is even more so. The hand that slips around to the small of her back when the song finishes, turning her toward the open glass doors that lead out to a well-manicured, dimly lit garden sets a similar heat burning across her cheeks, and the hands that lay her out in a dark corner of the garden and creep up her thighs under the hem of her dress are a searing, white hot. 26. What are their favorite parts about physical affection/sex? Raini enjoys the chase! The flirting, the banter, the circling around one another and drawing each other in inch by inch until one of you caves and makes the first move. She loves feeling eyes on her back even though she acts like she doesn’t notice, loves feeling her own pulse begin to race and knowing that across from her Ecstasy’s is doing the same. She loves watching the edges of Ecstasy’s grin go sharp, watching her tail lash against the floor, while all the while she’s carrying on their conversation like nothing has changed. She loves the way her robes start to feel too hot, too heavy, and the way Ecstasy’s gaze tracks her movements as she reaches up to pull the collar open just a bit wider. The brush of a hand on her waist when the tension becomes too much, a silent order to follow to somewhere more private so you can both make good on everything your flirting promised. The sex is good, without question. But the build up? The anticipation? The Showmanship? That’s how you get repeat customers! She also loves getting her pussy ate to the point that her thighs tremble and resent having to hold her up afterward, but really who wouldn’t? Nothing hotter than your sexy pirate girlfriend fucking you senseless then coming up for air, face wet from nose to chin, wearing an absolutely shit eating grin.
#brilliance#dia#rainivere#amnesia campaign#celebreultimaverba#YES I cheated with the semicolons for the vow one idk how I'm supposed to just write 'one line' like wtf even is that#DIDN'T write that brilliance prose in second person and yes i WOULD like a medal for it#also there's a mini epilogue to that bit that undermines the energy of the question so I'm putting it in the tags but#'she wakes up in the middle of the night with a warmth pressed against her back and soft breath against her hair'#she sighs but slowly reaches back to drape an arm over sienna's waist before drifting off again‚ secure knowing they can fix things tomorrow#GAY hours!#answered
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Out of the Blue: Chapter 8
Cover Art: @redheadgleek
Beta extraordinaire: @hkvoyage
Links: AO3, FF.net
Author’s Note:
Another big confrontation... And this time around, Kurt is in the wrong.
Chapter 8: Wedding Snags
“When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; Charlotte tried to console her:
"I dare say you will find him very agreeable."
"Heaven forbid! THAT would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom on is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil."”
(An excerpt from Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen)
The preparations for Sam and Mercedes’ wedding brought Kurt back to Ohio several times. While dress-shopping with Mercedes, Kurt bumped into Chandler, who now worked at a bridal store, apparently.
“That’s great, that’s great,” Kurt babbled, not really knowing what to say to a sort of ex-boyfriend, even if they’d never had that official status.
Chandler’s expression darkened into a scowl. “Not really great. But it will do. For now.”
“Of course, of course. It’s good to see you again!”
That brought a smile to Chandler’s face again, and he kept up a steady stream of prattle while he flitted around fetching all sorts of wedding dresses for Mercedes to try on.
He didn’t seem to have a good eye, though. The dresses he chose were all wrong for Mercedes’ body type, and too small as well.
Kurt decided not to put Mercedes through the ordeal of putting on outfits that wouldn’t fit her anyway, and invented an emergency at his father’s shop to be able to leave the store at once.
“Is your father okay?” Mercedes asked.
“He’s fine,” Kurt assured her. “I just wanted to get out of that store. The clerk didn’t have a clue what would look good on you.”
“It seemed like… Was it someone you knew?”
Kurt sighed. “Yes. We dated when I was still in high school.”
“Ooooh! How come you never told me about this boyfriend of yours?”
“We were never boyfriends. We just went on two dates, and it never went anywhere. We got along, but there was no spark, you know?”
Mercedes nodded. “Funny that you’ve run into him again now. Maybe this time around, it will work?”
Kurt shrugged. “I doubt it. His fashion sense leaves much to be desired, and his compliments are rather stale.”
Chandler kept turning up like a bad penny, though. They didn’t go to the dress store again, Kurt having decided to design and make Mercedes’ dress himself, but Chandler was at the bakery they went to for taste-testing, because apparently his parents were celebrating their 25th anniversary and were turning it into a big party. He was at the flower shop they ordered the arrangement for the church in, choosing flowers for his parents’ anniversary bash. He was at the restaurant Mercedes had chosen to cater the wedding reception and dinner, vacillating between the fish or meat option, because his mother preferred the one and his father the other.
Each time, he turned to Kurt to help him choose, smiling at him and praising his taste. Kurt’s answering smiles were a little stiff, and he always excused himself as fast as he could.
The night of the rehearsal dinner, Kurt ran into Chandler again at the restaurant. He wasn’t alone this time. Blaine Anderson was with him, of all people, and seemed to have a hissy fit.
Kurt knew what it felt to be on the receiving end of that, and came to Chandler’s rescue, though he didn’t enjoy the liberties Chandler took as a result – taking his arm and calling him pet names.
He saw that Blaine had wine stains on his clothes, and took that to be the reason for his foul mood, so he explained how to get the stains out and advised Blaine to get on with it before they dried in.
Blaine took that to heart and disappeared at a run.
“Phew,” said Chandler.
“What was he angry about?” Kurt asked.
“Me bumping into him,” Chandler said. “We used to date, you see, and then he got tired of me, and he didn’t just dump me, he got his brother to fire me as well. Blackened my character and everything.”
Kurt’s mouth fell open in shock. “Really?”
Chandler nodded, his face grim. “Really. Can’t get a decent job anywhere because of him. So promise me you’ll never date him, no matter how much money he throws at you. Because when he gets bored, he’ll get rid of you, and you’ll be the one picking up the pieces.”
“I think I can safely promise you that,” Kurt said, his lips a thin line. “The way he treated you was horrible!”
Chandler shrugged. “Karma will bite him in the ass one day. Well, I’ll let you get back to the rehearsal dinner. See you around, sweetie!”
Kurt was halfway back to his table when it occurred to him that Chandler had no way of knowing he was here for Sam and Mercedes’ rehearsal dinner. Unless he had been eavesdropping. That was a bit unsettling. He’d wanted to share his piece of juicy gossip about Blaine Anderson with Mercedes straight away, but now decided to wait until they were alone together.
Mercedes had been planning to spend her last night as an unmarried woman with her parents, but during dinner, Kurt and Rachel had been able to convince her to come to the Hudmel house instead, for a sleepover.
While Kurt braided Rachel’s hair, he told them Chandler’s story.
Mercedes pursed her lips. “Are you sure he told you the truth? I mean, Sam has worked with Blaine several times now, and he says he’s such a nice guy. Works harder than anyone else, fixes any problem in a jiffy, treats everyone the same from the lowest intern to the big boss. Sam hasn’t heard a bad word about him from anyone who works with him.”
“Maybe they don’t dare criticize him,” Kurt suggested. “He’s the big boss’s brother, remember?”
Mercedes shrugged.
Rachel let out a giggle. “You’ve had it out for him ever since his rant at the Brittana wedding. And he APOLOGISED for that.”
“Still a dick move,” Kurt grumbled, but he let it drop.
The morning of the wedding dawned cool but bright, and Kurt hummed as he made some last-minute adjustments to the dress. A plate of no-drip, no-stain snacks stood next to him, and at regular intervals, he fed Mercedes a snack and took one for himself, too.
When he had pronounced the dress perfect, Mercedes’ cousin Alma took over, to do the bride’s and the bridesmaids’ hair and make-up, and Kurt slipped into the garden for fresh flowers. Mercedes’ mother was paying a florist to decorate the church, but Kurt had offered to do the bouquets and the boutonnières.
When he arrived back in the living room with the flowers, Mercedes sat on the sofa, looking at her phone and worrying her lower lip.
“Not having seconds thoughts, are you?” Kurt teased her, but if anything, her frown deepened.
“I’d silenced my phone so as not to be disturbed. And now I’ve just looked at it and my mom called me. Five times. And left voice-mails telling me to call back asap. Which I did, but I can’t reach her. What on earth is the matter?”
Kurt patted her arm. “You let ME worry about it, okay? Turn that frown upside down and think of nothing but marrying Sam. Your mom’s at the church, I take it? Checking the flower arrangements and such? I’ll go there at once and handle whatever snag your mom has hit. I promise.”
Mercedes nodded and smiled hesitantly.
“I’ll do the bouquets and boutonnières,” Carole offered.
“And if necessary, I can take them all to church,” Burt promised. “We still have lots of time to get there anyway. You go and deal with the problem, Kurt.”
That was all the encouragement Kurt needed to hurry to the church, where he found Sam in an old T-shirt and jeans with holes in it, scrubbing a swastika from one of the pews, and a teary Mrs. Jones being comforted by Cooper, of all people. When she told Kurt what had upset her, he blanched. Somehow, in less than 24 hours, all their careful planning had been torn to shreds. There had been a fire at the restaurant where the reception and dinner was to take place, so now they had no food nor venue. The church had been broken into and vandalized. Mercedes’ family and friends were cleaning everything up as best they could, but the flower arrangements were destroyed beyond repair. Mike, the best man, had disappeared, and with him the rings. And in front of the church, instead of well-wishers, there were two dozen bigoted idiots who were protesting against the wedding about to take place, because it was a white man marrying a black woman, and it didn’t do to mix races and sully one’s blood.
Kurt rolled his eyes at that. “That’s bogus. We’re all humans. The same race. Colour has nothing to do with it.”
“Yes, that’s all very well to say, but how do we get them to leave?” Mrs. Jones wailed.
Just then, two buses arrived. Out of them stepped about a dozen men clad in riot gear and armed to the teeth. They started herding the protesters onto the buses, and left with them after just a few minutes.
“That’s one problem sorted,” Cooper said cheerfully. “We’ll fix the rest too, don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. Jones!”
“Flowers,” Kurt said. “I can do the flowers, no problem. It won’t be as grand as what the florist had planned, but it’ll look great nonetheless, I promise. Sam, Cooper, you’ll help once I get back?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but hurried to his car and headed home, where he assured Mercedes everything was under control, except that there had been a mishap with the flowers, and now they needed more. He stripped the garden of its flowers, put them into a few pails of water and ransacked his sewing supplies for ribbons. He also collected all the vases they had.
When he’d found everything he needed, he raced back to the church, and instructed Sam and Cooper to start tying roses to the pews, which thankfully were too sturdy to have been destroyed. They had been graffitied, but Mercedes’ family and friends had gotten most of it off, and had camouflaged the rest with a shimmery gauzy fabric. Silver. Perfect. Carole’s biggest vase was silver too, and Kurt would be using it to decorate the altar.
He carefully compiled a big bouquet for the altar and a few smaller ones to put in front of the lecterns. Then he inspected the arch at the church entrance. The wooden structure was chipped but still sound. The flowers, however, had been viciously shredded.
“Mrs. Jones, is there any more of that silver fabric? I’d put it over the arch and then pin the rest of my flowers onto it.”
Half an hour later, the church looked splendid again.
“What are we going to do about the best man and the rings, though?” he asked Sam.
“We have a back-up guy,” Sam smiled, “and he found us rings, too.”
Kurt hummed thoughtfully. “That leaves the food and a venue for the reception and the dinner. Where are we going to find that at such short notice?”
Sam clapped Kurt on the back. “No worries, man, the minister offered us the use of his garden, which is huge, apparently, and the whole church community is helping out, bringing chairs and tables and string lights and decorations and food and everything else we need. It’s all going to be all right!”
Kurt let out a deep breath and thanked his lucky stars for close-knit communities saving the day.
When Mercedes entered the church a few hours later, looking beyond gorgeous and glowing with happiness, Kurt wiped away a tear and blew her a kiss as she passed him. As he turned around to face the altar, though, he got a nasty shock. He hadn’t been paying much attention to Sam and his groomsmen, but now he saw that the back-up best man was none other than Blaine Anderson.
What on earth was HE doing here? Yes, Kurt had sent the Anderson brothers an invite, but what on earth did Blaine think he was doing, integrating himself into the wedding party?
Right at that moment, Blaine seemed to feel Kurt’s eyes on him. He looked straight at Kurt, nodded and smiled.
Kurt, still outraged at how Blaine had treated Chandler, shot him a glare and looked away to the minister, boiling inside.
He determinedly did not look Blaine’s way again throughout the ceremony, and hurried out of the church to the minister’s garden as soon as it was over.
As promised, the church community had turned the garden into a festive wonderland, and they’d set up an entire buffet of snacks and salads next to two barbecue grills. The wedding cake had arrived, too, and looked pristine and perfect.
“Dibs on this grill!” said a loud voice behind him, and Kurt shook his head with a grin as he saw Burt accept an apron from one of the women who’d be serving the buffet and inspect the contents of the cooler box.
“No red meat for you, Dad!” Kurt reminded him. “Remember what the doctor said!”
“Spoilsport,” Burt grumbled. “Just a teensy piece? Since this is a festive occasion and all?”
Kurt laughed. “All right, then, a teensy piece. I’ll tell Carole to check if it really is teensy!”
Soon, the party was well on its way. Everyone had enjoyed the impromptu barbecue, and now a band had arrived out of nowhere, and all the invitees were singing along and dancing and having a great time.
At Mercedes’ insistence, Kurt was telling her about all the problems they’d had to solve earlier that day, and she gasped and teared up a little.
Kurt was quick to dab the moisture away, “Your mascara, girl!”, and to comfort her. “Everything has turned out fine, hasn’t it? Thank heavens for your church community. They’ve worked wonders here! And everything else was dealt with satisfactorily. Well, except for Blaine Anderson being Sam’s replacement best man. Really? That rude, obnoxious ass? Don’t know why he’s always in a huff about something and throwing tantrums like a toddler or biting people’s noses off, but I’m far from impressed with his attitude. He needs to GROW UP. And seriously, after all that guy did, couldn’t Sam have chosen someone better?”
Someone cleared their throat behind them. They both turned their heads, and Kurt felt his cheeks heat up when he saw that it was Blaine. Had he heard Kurt bad-mouthing him?
“May I have this dance?” Blaine asked with a little bow, holding out his hand to Kurt expectantly.
Taken off guard, Kurt stammered, “Yeah. Sure.”
It was out before Kurt knew it, and there was no way of taking it back, seeing as Blaine took him firmly by the waist and whirled him away at once, beaming as he did so.
“That was a lovely ceremony, wasn’t it?” Blaine said a little later.
“It was,” Kurt agreed. “I’m not religious, but the minister said a lot of things that resonated with me. Yeah. I liked it.”
Blaine smiled at him again, his expression so disarming and charming that Kurt felt short of breath for a moment and had to remind himself of all the reprehensible things Blaine had done so as not to smile back besottedly.
The song changed, but Blaine showed no intention of letting Kurt go, leading him expertly and catching him any time Kurt stumbled over his own feet.
“Mercedes looks gorgeous in that dress,” Blaine said next. “It suits her so well.”
“Thank you. I made it.”
“Well, you’re an absolute wizard with a needle, then.”
Kurt giggled, and then covered his mouth with his hand in horror. Blaine didn’t seem to have noticed, though. He was looking pensive now.
“Why did you glare at me during the ceremony?”
Kurt’s chin went up. “You don’t deserve to be Sam’s best man.”
Blaine quirked an eyebrow. “Did you want that position?”
“What? No! I just mean, after what you did to Britts and San at their wedding, and after the despicable way you’ve treated Chandler, you don’t deserve to be anywhere near Sam, who is sweetness itself and deserves better than a cold-hearted, mean-spirited guy as his best man.”
Blaine had stopped moving now, and let go of Kurt. “Cold-hearted? Mean-spirited? After how I treated Chandler? Don’t you have that the wrong way round? Don’t you know what he did?”
Kurt scoffed. “What did he do to deserve you destroying his chances of ever finding a job again? Bite your dick while he was sucking it?”
Silence fell. Kurt noticed that people were looking at the both of them, and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.
Blaine’s face was a cold mask now. “I’ve no idea what lies he told you, but you’re wide off the mark. We had good reasons to fire him.”
“Like what?”
“Like that he tried to kill you!”
Blaine turned around and stalked off, leaving behind a gaping Kurt.
What?!!
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After 2 a.m.
by Ronan Bloomfield
I see him. Everywhere. On the kitchen counter, legs dangling off, talking to our friends. His hands, on her waist. His eyes, searching, curious. His laugh, loud but unoffensive. He makes the whole room focus on him. Vash, in all his curly-haired, dark eyes, wide smile bravado, made his way into our circle without so much as dropping a sweat. I should’ve brought more liquor if I knew he’s the one Michelle brought for a date.
New Year’s at cousin Mark’s town house is a huge deal this year. He announced that he won’t let anyone pass inside without bringing a plus one. I brought Patrick. Mark wasn’t so thrilled about that since Patrick happened to be my cat.
At the countdown, everyone seems pretty wasted. A clear sign of Mark’s year-end objective is people making out in the open with careless nonchalance. My job is to take decent snaps of everything indecent that’s happened.
Vash sweeps in and out of the room, towing Michelle, whose neutral expression always seems to be lying across between bright and blasting; a firecracker never running out of sparks. There was phrase in Latin I always use to describe her, in omnia paratus, ready for anything. Standing by the sideline and noticing everything, I made room for the pulsing life of the party, without being in the party.
After the countdown, Vash, the center of this universe, gave a toast to welcome another decade.
“May misfortune follow us all the way through,” he raised his cup. We booed.
“And may it never catch up,” he continued. We drank to that.
Unless they’re Irish, who else makes up stuff like that when they’re only 16% sober?
Mark’s house eventually got quiet as people slumped into couches and the available rooms. Some couple mysteriously disappeared halfway through eating the 2020 cake.
It’s 2:15 a.m. and after drinking booze more than both my fingers can count, I am officially tipsy. It sucks. I just can’t get drunk enough to not mind the empty cups and bottles lying around the living room, the wine spilled on the kitchen floor, throw pillows askew on the couches; every mess I spot seems to loom in on me and vacuum what’s left of my sobriety.
I grabbed the trash bag and made my way through every spot that we partied on. The room is spinning too fast for me so I slowed down and played a soft music from Spotify. I let it travel from the living room to my last destination, the kitchen.
“I didn’t know they invited a Monica Geller!” a voice behind me said a little too loud. I turned around only to find Vash, still standing straight and slightly red in the face.
I continued my work, scrubbing the sink immaculately clean while he sat there, by the kitchen isle, watching. I looked at him once, no twice, yeah alright, 14 times to make sure he wasn’t about to fall off from the high stool he was sitting on.
“Seriously,” he belched, “how can you be cleaning after drinking that much alcohol?”
I ignored him. I am not known to be famous with small talk. Or any talk, for that matter. I’m the silent twin, fluent in the quiet, overshadowed by the loud personality of my other half. I spoke only once, when he asked what my cat’s name is and since then it’s been Vash and his surprisingly loquacious alter-ego. He took it as his job to fill the gap in the air and talked about, yep, SpongeBob.
“He taught me how to handle my autistic younger brother. Man, he’s the best.” I’m not sure if he’s aware that he’s still talking while petting Patrick.
He went on, still talking, and followed me to the front porch where I deposited three bags of trash. I sat down by the stairs because it has been unbelievably exhausting as much as it was satisfying.
“By the way,” he sat right next to me with Patrick on his lap. “I believe we haven’t been officially introduced. Michelle said she would... but you know Michelle.”
I nodded. Of course, I had to share a womb with her.
“Anyway, I’m Vash.” He extended his hand, which is strangely old-fashioned for a guy just two years behind our age.
“Michael,” I said in reply.
We shook hands. And I wished it felt as simple as flesh touching flesh. Instead, it was a Stupefy spell which backfired. I withdrew my hand quickly, not eager to do anymore self-damage.
I believe in deep talks. But most of all, I believe in the deep talks held in the dark. That’s why sitting there by the stairs, the cool air on my face and the stars carefully mapped out above us, it felt easier to say something rash.
“I knew you from college.”
His eyebrows arched upwards. “Oh?”
My throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Yes,” I looked down. “You once slept… on my books at the library.”
His face broke into a grin. “For a minute, I thought you were going to say I slept with someone and you knew about her.”
I laughed with him too enthusiastically.
“Hey, I’m so sorry about your books. I can’t even remember that since I made passing out in the library a habit.”
“Don’t worry,” I said dismissively, “I was just using it for props, anyway.”
He laughed. It was gentle this time, syncing with the soft music still playing. We stayed like that for five minutes during which Patrick transferred to my lap, purred and fell asleep.
“I think I’ve noticed you somewhere around campus, too.” He glanced sideways at me, a smile overstaying its welcome is on his face.
My heart doesn’t know chill. It’s threatening to leap out of my chest.
“Did you give any speech back then?”
I wiped a hand on my face and cursed. At that, he let loose a provocative snicker.
I have been roasted all my adult life because of the drunk speech I gave to all scholars in our university on our senior year, and I still can’t get out of the hot seat fast enough and unscathed.
“Can there be one person, just one person in this world, who doesn’t know that story?”
“Hey,” he said, arms gesticulating, “just fulfilling my character flaw.”
I shrugged, not having anything to say anymore. This isn’t the deep talk I had in mind. The heat on my face is still subsiding when he continued.
“Were you…” he paused as if he’s actually traveling down his memory lane.
“Were you in theatre?”
I nodded.
“You didn’t play any character.”
“Oui.”
“You just directed it.”
“Careful on the ‘just’.”
“You’re right, you’re right. You were THE director.”
“Better.”
“You were the platoon leader first and second year in ROTC.”
I looked at him because now, I just realized he’s reciting things about me from his memory and I thought he just met me tonight.
He bit the inside of his lower lip and thought some more. His eyebrows are knit together in complete focus. I can’t believe this. Michelle, you tattletale.
“You almost drowned in swimming class.”
“You got excellent academic credentials.”
“You’re a good impersonator; your piece of Tyrion Lannister could land Oscars.”
“You’re funny enough and you notice everything it’s almost freaky.”
I want him to stop. This is not helping me get a grip. But he continues, unaware; his face getting sharper in the background as I was starting to get out of the haze that clouded my better judgement. This was a stupid, bad idea. Nothing good happens after 2 a.m., I knew that.
“You think sunsets are overrated.”
“You think feelings are, also.”
“You don’t like coffee or girls. Or—”
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He stops talking. I continued.
“I might have already, way, way, way before we met.” I feel really close to vomiting at this moment, but what the hell.
“Seeing you tonight is weird and I know what you are. You’re the boyfriend of this month or this season, depending on what my sister decides later.” My breath isn’t catching up the right way but that didn’t matter.
“I know what I’m not. I’m not really a stranger to you, am I?” I finally had the nerve to look at him. He looked like he hasn’t breathed in since I interrupted him.
“Please say something so I don’t let my cat scratch my face willingly.”
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Many ways to say I love you: Day Twenty-Nine.
Kidge-a-palooza 2019 Prompt: Elegance. Pairing: Kidge (VLD) Universe: Victorian!AU. Status: Part 4/4
She tightened his tie more tightly so that the knot was perfect enough and the collar of his shirt didn't get messy, earning a small claim from her son for pulling him while ordering the last details of his outfit made for that afternoon, where important figures and renowned people would visit the estate of her dear friend Allura that afternoon. Katie gave him a brief warning look to keep his still for a few more seconds as soon as she heard a refusal about the outfit that Katie chose so carefully while removing wrinkles from his suit with her hands to finish her job.
''Daddy, mom is squeezing a lot.'' The boy complained as soon as he saw his father enter the room looking for something in the furniture that decorated it. Katie raised an inquiring eyebrow.
''You are very wrong if you think that your dear father will help you escape, I still have to brush your hair.''
''Pope!'' The fearful boy groaned at his mother's words, but Keith just shrugged with a funny laugh as he continued searching through the drawers of the room.
''I'm sorry buddy, mom is ordering you properly so that all of our friends see how big you've grown since last summer.'' Keith said approaching his wife, drawing her attention with one hand on her shoulder. ''Pidge, do you know where I left the silver shirt cufflinks?''
''They broke up at Lance's house during your last friendly competition.'' Answered sardonic Pidge, hitting both hands in allusion to the fight they had months ago for drinking too much. Keith walked away ashamed of his wife. ''You can use the wolf shirt cufflinks, they will look good with your jacket.''
''Yes, I think you are right.''
She snorted in response listening to her husband head towards the bathroom with the ornaments on his hands while doing her best to battle with the hair of her beloved son. The knots that were created while sleeping could only be thanks to the genetic inheritance of the Holt family. So she would be lucky if she made Steven look presentable after playing around her dear friend's farm. Her son had the bad habit of jumping and jumping into the grass as soon as she lost sight of him for a few minutes, something he had categorically not inherited from her at all.
Katie had to make sure that her image looked impeccable at least until they arrived at Allura's house in a few more hours, or all her work during the morning would have been useless. Usually, they were the employees who had to take care of her son's attire, but Katie couldn't allow anyone to take care of Steven from birth, just as her mother did with her and her older brother, even giving him of breastfeeding during the first months. Something unthinkable for a woman in her class and strongly criticizing her social circle, but when Katie had given her son to a nurse the first days of his birth reluctantly, something inside her heart was removed from possession and jealousy.
She wanted to be the one to feed her son, take care of him, dress him and educate him in the sciences that her family loved so much. Having it only for her and that nobody dared to interfere in her upbringing. Keith on the other way, didn't turn mostly against when he learned that Katie dismissed the nurses he hired for the care of his firstborn, even thinking that it was much better for someone close to be in the care of his beloved son.
But Katie would never have thought that raising a child was such an exhausting task. Even at just four years old, Steven seemed to have a personal record of making his parents lose their temper before they could send him to military school. Keith used to have a little more patience with him, letting Katie know that during his childhood he also mediates his parents' patience with almost vandalism. Katie almost admired her mother daily when she had to deal with her son's attitudes in which she often saw her attitude and temper reflected in him.
In spite of everything, she loved her firstborn deeply.
''Keith, did you remember to lock the wolves before leaving?'' Katie asked when she saw her husband get in the car. He nodded securely indicating to leave.
''Yeah, Beezer will release them during the afternoon.''
''Mom, let's stay at home, Kosmo will miss us.'' Steven asked with a hint of affliction in his eyes. Katie stroked his head affectionately.
''Don't worry about him, you heard dad, they will be fine without us. Don't you want to see Uncle Matt and Uncle Shiro, honey? They have missed you all this time.''
''... Yes?'' Katie gave him a big hug at her innocent tone.
''Speaking of uncles...'' Keith said with a serious countenance. ''How long do you think it takes for Lance and Allura to get out of the shadows?''
''Who knows, sometimes I asked me which of the two is blinder to the interests of the other.'' Katie smiled wistfully. ''I remember that when I was waiting for Steven, they behaved quite collaboratively with each other... I thought they would finally realize their feelings, but I guess it wasn't enough.''
''This is ridiculous, at this rate they will die ignorant about what they feel for the other. Those cowards''
''Since when are you so engaged in the interests of others, dear?'' Katie asked somewhat surprised about Keith's recent interest, he removed himself uncomfortably from his seat, without connecting his gaze to her.
''How strange is my concern for a dear friend?''
''Yes, especially if it's Lance. You usually enjoy his misfortune.''
''... Okay.'' He answered resigned, he knew that lying to Katie was a useless task. ''I may have benefited economically from his indecision.''
''Have you been betting with Hunk again?''
-''With Shiro. And honestly, the game lost the fun for years.''
''Oh my god, you are terrible people.''
''That's what Matt said when he found out and started betting on Allura's favor three months ago.''
Katie was perplexed to learn that her brother had also lent himself to entertain the situation of her friends, preferring to change the topic of conversation before the new projects that her husband's company was starting and prevent her son from knowing the bad practices of his father. It was impressive how much Keith had changed since he began spending time with Hunk and Lance, but even for her to bet on her friends' private life was to cross the boundaries, she didn't want to deal with Allura's wrath as soon as she found out.
Steven just watched with disinterest through the window as if nothing they talked about had to do with him, which Katie thanked.
So neither of them realized that on their son's face there was a countenance highly concerned about the situation of his dear uncles, seriously thinking that that afternoon he had to prevent his uncle Lance from continuing to be ''sad''.
...
''Pidge, nice to see you again!''
''Hi Allura.'' She was greeted by a big hug from her dear friend who almost made her lose her breath. ''I see that my mother's plants have grown quite a lot in your garden.''
''Colleen was very kind in giving me the juneberries that remind me so much of my childhood, I couldn't help planting them as fast as I got home.'' She said looking towards the area where flowers were seen through the crowd. ''Romelle and Coran say they are the most beautiful and well-groomed flowers they have been fortunate to know.''
''That wasn't because of my mother, you have taken care of them with great care.''
Katie answered with fun; it was nice to see Allura smile when she talked about her past. After a terrible illness that took her father's life a few years ago, Allura's smile was difficult to appreciate for several months. But her mother's gift was certainly right.
Now her friend looked much livelier. As she remembered the first years.
''Steven, don't run around people!'' They heard Keith from the other side of the garden. Katie hoped her son wouldn't get in trouble just when they arrived.
''It seems that your son is still as energetic as I remember.'' Allura smiled, Katie growled slightly.
''Yes, I just hope that energy doesn't end by breaking a leg.''
''Come on Pidge, I remember that one of your biggest fears was to become a copy of your own mother. Let your child make his own mistakes while enjoying a good afternoon. I asked my pastry chefs to prepare peanut butter cookies.''
Katie nodded after a few seconds and wanted to taste the cookies that Allura ordered for her delight. She could enjoy a quiet afternoon at a party of great elegance without thinking that her child would get into trouble for a couple of hours, isn't it?
...
He took his son's neck before he dared to get away more than allowed and escaped again as he did fifteen minutes ago while talking with Hunk about his new recipes at his restaurant.
''You know you shouldn't walk away, Steven.'' He scolded him severely by approaching him, but his son just writhed on his grip trying to break free.
''I need to find uncle Lance.''
''Well, you found uncle Lance just the way you wanted!'' A jovial voice called the attention of both as soon as they saw Lance approaching his direction. ''I didn't know your son preferred me over you, mullet. I must tell you that it feels like a small triumph.''
''I don't think that's the case.'' Keith said irritably. ''He has been obsessed with you all day.''
''Oh yeah?'' He approached Steven to stroke his partially messy hair. His appearance was a vivid image of his father, with a malicious look very similar to his mother.
''Uncle Lance, I want you to stop being sad!''
''Ohh! Seriously?'' Asked surprised, Keith didn't seem to understand very well what his son was saying. But he preferred to follow the game. ''Very well, I listen to you.''
''Let's go to the garden.'' Steven answered determinedly while taking the sleeve of his suit with one of his hands.
''Do you know what he plans?'' Keith shrugged as he followed.
''My experience has concluded that it is better to follow the game. He won't tell you even if you ask him.''
Once they reached the garden where the meeting was on course, they saw how Allura was surrounded by many of her closest friends who enjoyed a pleasant chat under an awning, including his wife who was holding a tray full of peanut butter cookies just for her.
Steven started running towards Allura as soon as he located her among so many people around, taking him in her arms. Keith knew she was his favorite aunt and had a childhood crush on her since last winter.
''Aunt Allura, can you pass me your hand?'' Steven asked as soon as Allura left him on the floor. She nodded interestedly.
''Do you want to hold my hand during the afternoon?''
Allura said amused, Steven nevertheless effusively shook his head, placing it on top of Lance's hand without warning. A loud gasp came out of the mouth of everyone present who surrounded him. Allura, who kept her face from blushing when she felt Lance's warmth on her palm, watched her nephew confused.
''Do you want me to take Uncle Lance's hand?''
''Yes! Uncle Lance is sad, so if you take his hand as mom and dad do it when they are sad, Uncle Lance will stop being.'' Everyone's heart was tender at the innocent request of the child.
''But buddy, I'm not sad.'' Lance tried to talk with some fun in his eyes.
''No, you are. Mama said in the car that dad and the others were having fun with your misfortune because you like Aunt Allura and you are too coward to confess.''
A sepulchral silence traveled all over the place as soon as Steven's words came out without any bad intentions, causing both Lance and Allura's countenance to change from happiness to a stoic, almost contemplative face.
The next thing Steven saw was both his uncle Hunk and his father fleeing from his uncle Lance, and he didn't see Matt or Shiro again for the rest of the afternoon, listening to his mother who probably ran away from the party for fear of his aunt Allura. What seemed funny, since his mother didn't stop laughing for the rest of the day.
Steven remembered returning home early that day, his father seemed to have been irritated as his eye looked extremely swollen and his face bruised. His mother told him that he had fallen off a horse and didn't have to worry because he had earned it, nor the sadness of his uncle Lance.
A few months later, he learned that they were preparing for a long-awaited marriage. Steven was depressed for a moment knowing that his aunt Allura would marry a man other than him, but he knew that his uncle Lance would make her very happy.
#peith#kidge#kidgefanfic#monthofkidge#kidgeapalooza#kidgeapalooza 2019#keith kogane#keith (voltron)#pidge gunderson#pidge holt#voltron#voltronship#victorian au
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We the Drowned
So many perspectives. @clownsgobeepbeep @grotesquegabby
There was a circus.
It is not a circus like you think.
It has secrets.
It’s workers are not human.
It’s ringmaster is most definitely not human.
But they are definitely a proud parent.
As the show goes on and the ringmaster performs their beloved is curled up asleep with two small beings.
There is a twinge, a shudder runs through her as well as the feeling that something terrible has happened.
Calliope sat up with a hand over her heart.
Magpie was dead.
She was, wasn’t she? She felt it but… at the same time she didn’t. What did that mean?
But the ache was there, regardless something terrible had indeed happened.
Calliope laid down and curled up under her blankets. Did Maggie or Vespers know?
Calliope could discern what had happened, the thing Blackwood had foreshadowed to her no doubt. Poor Magpie, Calliope could only hope she was at peace.
There was a rush of something. Two forces in combat. Moving through the atmosphere above with rapid speed.
Oh no.
Calliope jumped up. She could feel the waves of chaos echoing from one point on the edge of the city. Waves of bad luck.
She moved to get dressed only stopped short, looking at her sleeping children. So unaware of what misfortune was taking place. Calliope could not leave them, would not leave them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vespers was snuggled close to Cosmos and Phoebe. They had both felt it, a shudder that ran through them like something awful had happened. Outside the sky had grown frightfully dark and it seemed like everything was trying to go wrong.
Lighting struck the house, plates shattered, Cosmos at one point tripped and opened his eyes nearly making eye contact with a startled Vespers. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.
“Aunt Pie must be upset, it’s the only explanation I got.” Vespers concluded with a nod. Cosmos turned to him in surprise. “Your Aunt is doing this? She’s not even here!”
Vespers shrugged, “It doesn’t matter, she can affect anything in a couple miles. She must be having one hell of a bad day.”
Vespers pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, preparing to call his aunt when his phone started to ring.
It was Juno.
“Have you seen Auntie?”
Vespers frowned, “n-no what’s going on?”
“This town is going to shut that’s what!” Juno shouted from the other end of the line. “I just watched all the lampposts on our street rust to ruins in ten second flat! And we keep getting hail.”
Vespers started to panic, “hail? Geeze Juno where the heck did she go?”
“I don’t know! Help me dammit!”
Vespers hung up and turned to Cosmos, “I have to go find my aunt. I’m going to fix things ok?”
Cosmos frowned and took his hand, “Are you sure it’s her? Vesp I just have this crazy bad feeling.”
“I know me too,” Vespers answered with a nod. “But yes I know it’s her, Juno thinks so too. Stay with Phoebe and keep her safe. I promise it’s going to be ok and this time I’ll tell you one hundred percent everything when I get back.”
Cosmos clearly didn’t like it but gave Vespers a kiss on the cheek nonetheless, “please be careful.”
“I will, love you spaceman.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Billy was having a bad day to say the least.
Maggie was gone, no warning no anything.
He stormed through the streets following her scent. Ignoring the chaos that happened around him.
He knew, he just knew this had something to do with whatever the plan she had mentioned was.
“Why must she be so damn reckless?!” He shouted to know one. Not that anyone could pay attention, the streets were filled with panic. Car wrecks, accidents, thefts, breakups, a woman nearby broke her stiletto heel. What the hell was going on?
Billy was glad he had left Amaranthus with her grandfather, on this night, everything seemed to be going to hell in a handbasket. He was absolutely positive a certain redhead was somehow involved. What if she was hurt? How could she just leave without saying anything?
Granted, had he not done the same just some weeks prior?
“But I wasn’t pregnant!” Billy shouted to himself in response.
“You weren’t what?”
Billy turned. Vespers and Juno looked at him in confusion. Then, both parties started questioning at once.
“Have you seen our aunt?”
“Have you seen Maggie?”
Juno scowled, “so their both gone? Fan-fucking-tastic.”
Billy rolled his eyes, “must you be so vulg-“
Crash!
Above them a window shattered, glass raining down.
Billy moved to duck out of the way when a shadow crossed over him.
Juno stood with a massive set of butterfly wings unfolded, shielding both her brother and Billy. She winced in pain as glass pierced her delicate wings and exposed back. But not the smallest shard touched the boys.
She gave Billy a smirk, “You’re welcome ya damn Ken Doll.”
Billy scowled But said nothing. Now was not the time. “I take it your we’re following your aunt’s trail?”
Vespers antennae twitched, “Yeah she went this way.” He answered, pointing down the sidewalk.
Billy gave a sigh, “funny that’s were Maggie’s scent leads.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was falling, for how long she had no idea, she was drowning in nothing. It was so dark, the feeling of some deep and primal fear coursing through her.
Where was she?
Who was she?
What was a “she?”
Had it asked that question before?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They found the collapsed remains of a warehouse. The smell of both human and deadlight blood was strong. Billy noticed the neck fluff of both Juno and Vespers had puffed up, but then again his own nails had started to sharpen to a razor tip.
Inside was an odd mix of damage. Human remains, thorn bushes, piano strings. Why such a combination?
Juno gasped, “what the fuck?”
Billy and vespers rushed to join her. Taken back by the same sight.
There was an open door. It lead to a swirling collision of light and color, and absence of anything dust and small debris was being pulled inside. At the door stood of all things an old woman.
Billy growled, her aura was ancient and powerful. She was not human, but there was a familiarity to her. Why?
The old woman turned to the trio. She was blindfolded.
Billy gave a shout, recognizing her from description.
The old woman gave a small smile and stepped through the door. Slamming it shut behind her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Why is this familiar?” The thing asked itself. There was something important, what was it? There was something so, so important the thing was supposed to do.
“Protect,” answered The Void.
Protect, the thing mused. Protect something, something, something, what something?
The thing noted it’s… hand on its… stomach. Wha-
The baby!
The thing gave a shout. A bay! It’s baby, hers!
Her name was Maggie.
There was a deep sigh from within The Void, as if to say “at last”. Maggie felt her wings grow within the darkness as she few up. She thought it was up.
“Where can I go?”
“Go?” Asked The Void.
“Help me!”
“Help yourself. You are after all ready.”
“Ready for what?!”
Maggie screamed in frustration, clawing at the surrounding darkness.
A hand grabbed hers.
“Well this is what happens when you lean towards a self-taught method.”
Maggie knew that voice.
She was pulled up through the darkness.
It was so unnerving to stand before Bridgette in person.
She was incredibly tall, something Maggie had never noticed when they conversed in her dreams. She had a scent that Maggie could not pin down. Sulfur, sugar, raspberry, seared steak-
Mmm, steak.
Bridgette frowned, “I just hauled you up for being trapped in the void that lies bet dimensions and you have the gal to have pregnancy cravings?”
Maggie blushed, how did she ... never mind. Of course she knew.
Bridgette huffed and wrapped an arm around Maggie to pull her away from the edge of the void. Shielding her from the howling winds as some force tried to drag Maggie away.
She looked up.
A black hole was surprisingly bright, you would not think it had light but it really did. And it swallowed everything. How Bridgette could withstand the force Maggie didn’t know, but she was grateful for an anchor.
Around them thousands of Time strings were sucked up. Soon there would be nothing left.
Bridgette looked so tired.
“I’m sorry,” Maggie sobbed, “I tried I really did. I just wasn’t fast enough.”
Bridgette shook her head, “you did exactly what I knew you would do. Excellent job child.”
Maggie froze, “what?”
Bridgette turned to her with a small but sad smile. “When I said you getting rid of the fixed point would help I did not mean it would stop my death. On the contrary it ensured it.”
Maggie felt her stomach drop. “What?! W-why would you do that? Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Because it had to happen,” Bridgette insisted. “Jack is being ripped apart molecule by molecule every time his body tried to reassemble. Soon this whole dimension will succumb to Magpie’s destructive force and his timeline will fall apart, and soon so shall I.”
Maggie shook her head. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Bridgette continued, “don’t worry they flow of time will continue, this place is just a viewing platform. You should still be able to see the future though it will be much more difficult. But you are as ready as you could be child. You have grown and will continue to grow into your new roll. You will be fine. As will he,” she finished with a pole at Maggie’s stomach.
She could not process what she was being told. She had caused Bridgette’s death, Magpie was gone, the strings would be gone, all of it gone.
…. it’s a boy?!
Bridgette reaches over Maggie’s shoulder, opening a door. “Good bye.”
Bridgette shoved Maggie through the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Billy had been closing and kicking the door ever since that damn elder had slammed it in his face. He was not ready for when it slammed back open again, this time Maggie falling through.
He shouted in alarm as he caught her. Maggie was covered in bruises and cuts. Her skin ice-cold.
“Maggie? Maggie!” Billy screamed as he wrapped her up in his arms.
The door was starting to slip close.
Vespers moved to keep it from closing when someone shoved him aside. Maggie was ripped from Billy’s arms as the stranger and carried her back through the door which once again slammed shut.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bridgette could honestly say she felt relieved. She was dying, her body starting to break up under the force of the black hole and destruction of a dimension that had been her everything.
It had been a mistake to turn the boy into a fixed point. Her desire to find a loophole around the one thing she could not observe had gotten the better of her and all she had created was a gluttonous monster. One that had wrecked the timelines of The Creator’s descendants and changed that of her own. Now it was above her trapped in an endless cycle of life and death. Just barely pulling together a handful of molecule last before being ripped apart again. A bittersweet end to her lifetime indeed.
“Hope you don’t mind the party crashing darling, but look I brought a guest!”
Bridgette whipped around, there stood Blackwood with Maggie in his arms. He grinned, “hello Madam Seer!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were in Blackwood’s “office.” The top of the highest wall in his castle. They were surrounded by stars and twilight.
Maggie had zero desire to be alone with the elder bit she needed to speak with him. Away from the others, away from Magpie.
“So up till recently she’s been trapped in a pocket dimension,” Maggie finished in her long explanation of what had happened to her guardian. “How did you not know?”
Blackwood stood up and screamed to the sky above.
The world in the space of a second bent and warped. Magpie trembled in fear as stars fell around them and stone crumbled.
As quick as it started it ended.
Blackwood stood shaking in silence. He glanced towards a terrified Maggie and gave a smile.
“I’m done little Seer, just needed to… get that out of my system.”
“What will you do? Knowing. What you now know?”
Blackwood looked away, “I’m not certain I’ll need time to think. But more pressing is the event of Bridgette’s demise.”
“Magpie will do it. She’s going to-“
Blackwood held a hand up, “Do you have a plan?”
Maggie nodded, “it’s really stupid.”
Blackwood turned to her with a grin. “So much like your elder. “Always needing a plan, always needed to know what the future holds.”
Maggie rolled her eyes, “I’m. It like Bridgette-“
“Are you certain?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the end Blackwood became Plan B, should Magpie become a black hole as Maggie had foreseen.
The elder of creation set Maggie down with surprising care before looking at Bridgette. “You tried to use one of my own to clean up your mess. How sloppy of you Madam Seer, I thought you knew better.”
Bridgette backed away, the winds of the Black hole tearing at her clothes and hair, ripping off her blindfold to reveal a large crack that ran across her face, within one could see the emptiness of the void itself.
Blackwood charged at her, the two clashing in a force that gave the sound of thunder. They tore and clawed at each other. Anything Blackwood summoned Bridgette would doge. Two ancient Beings that were equal in strength.
Maggie made herself as small as possible, the force of the black hole above lifting her up.
She screamed.
The winds suddenly shifted, Maggie was set back down.
She looked up in surprise, how?
Maggie looked towards the battling elders. Blackwood was struggling to get ahead of Bridgette’s sight but the old woman was slowin down. Her body starting to fall apart along with the world around them.
Maggie looked up. The winds had such a peculiar sound to them. Like, like-
Screams.
Maggie gasped in surprise. Magpie’s death had not created a back hole. She was the black hole.
“Stop!” Maggie screamed. “Stop, stop! Please!”
The winds howled but did not change.
Maggie felt tears of desperation in her eyes. “Magpie please stop. You can let go now, it’s ok!”
The winds slowed.
Bridgette gave a gasp, Maggie turned to see the elder was still falling to pieces and had fallen to the ground. She watched Maggie with a look of… pride.
Blackwood snapped his fingers.
The black hole began to fold in on itself. Releasing the atoms that made up the strings of time which inturn began to reform.
“You’re fixing it,” Bridgette whispered.
Black shook his head, “I’m ending the black hole. It’s Magpie that’s fixing everything. Using the last of herself to do so I suspect.”
Bridgette shuddered, her own end looming. “I- I don’t know what is going to happen next.”
Blackwood smiled and took her hand, “it will be alright, I promise.”
As Bridgette faded away Blackwood scooped up her lights. As he stood up-
Maggie slapped him in the face.
Blackwood stumbled back, her nails had scratched into his skin, no doubt leaving a scar. Blackwood rubbed the injured spot, they were going to have an interesting working relationship no doubt.
He sighed and handed Maggie one of Bridgette’s lights. “She would have wanted you to have it.”
Maggie looked at the powerful light uncertain, did she actually want it?
As humid sensing her hesitant the light floated up from Maggie’s hand before ramming itself into her forehead.
Maggie screamed and fell to the ground, her mind feeling as if it was melting and reshaping itself. She was drowning and yet so alive at once. She was drowning, she could see so much now.
Blackwood watched as the girl thrashed about in pain. Her feathers fall out of her head and resprouting at the sides of her eyes.
Ah, new hairstyle then.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door opened, The trio watching in anticipation as Blackwood climbed out with an overwhelmed Maggie in tow.
There was something in Blackwood’s arms, a strange glowing mass shaped like-
Shaped like a body.
Maggie fell into Billy’s arms sobbing uncontrollably. Billy himself trying his hardest to keep together at the sight of seeing Maggie in such a state.
Juno observed the thing in Blackwood’s arms, at last catching the sighs of the deadlights that floated around in the glowing mass.
Juno screamed.
Realization flooded through Vespers as he fell to his knees. “Is- is that? Please no.”
Blackwood nodded solemnly. “It’s a bit of an explanation and one I don’t have time for as I need to get this one stable. This mass of Stardust is what is left of Magpie, now her lights are still present and seemingly aware even. I- I’ve never done this before… don’t know if I truly can… but I will put her back together. I just… I just need time. He turned to Maggie who was still in hysterics as Billy struggled to calm her down. Blackwood gave a sigh. “Tell Lady Life that the new Madam Seer will explain everything when she is able to. She’ll want an explanation as will all of you.
Vespers looked to Maggie in confusion, “Madam Seer?”
Blackwood chuckled, “oh yes. Personally I think she’s ready.”
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Like the Dawn - Chapter 5
chapter 5 - waste years with you notes - this chapter is barely edited. also you wont believe it, but i’ve had this mostly written since july !!!! sorry about that LOL Archive Link
Ryan woke for work at 5:30 am after a blissfully dreamless sleep. It hadn't been very long, but it was more replenishing than when he was having nightmares about drowning and fever dreams about the Gods.
He left for work, preparing himself for another busy day. He was new to the company where he worked and didn't know many people there. For the most part, he didn't do much of anything, as it was a starter job. He ran around, got people coffee, filed paperwork, the likes. There were a few people there who he enjoyed, though. A designer named Steven, a chef and video editor named Andrew, and a photographer named Adam. Out of those three Andrew was his favorite. Funny, full of stories, great cook. Adam was cool, too. Soft spoken, but when he did say something it was worth listening to. Steven was the most argumentative of the group, but intriguing. He could talk or debate with the man for quite a while on the right subject. Steven also always offered to help him look his best. Ryan was always tempted to take him up on that.
After his daily work duties were done he found himself some nice corner to work on editing his film into a nice video for his channel. He wrote out in a journal what he was planning to say in his voice over later as he edited. In this segment he would point out some interesting species of plants. And in this part he would talk about a childhood memory of a different forest.
Editing videos like this really put him in a different mindset. He was born and raised in the city, but he had family that lived in the wilderness. As soon as he was ten he was being carted off into the uncharted lands of Oregon every summer to spend some quality time with his grandparents. He remembers those times with the clarity of muddy water. When his dysphoria was at its peak he could run off into the thicket of trees behind his grandparents house and disappear for hours, his only company the dew damp trees and the skittish rabbits.
In those woods he met many creatures and critters. His favorite, by far, were the fauns. There were plenty of deer all over the country, but in the deep woods, where all you can see are giant, looming trees and long, untamed grass, they were almost like an entirely new animal. They were gentle, making soft, curious noises whenever he came around. They would bow their heads to sniff around his feet and push their snouts into his palm like dogs begging for a treat.
Nature had always been a huge part of his personality. He cared for stray cats, nursed injured birds back to health, helped foxes get free from hunting traps. He cared for animals like snakes and rats as much as he cared for more enjoyable animals. He respected nature, and it respected him in return.
He didn't know why it was like that, but it was as normal as anything else. At the best of times it was a cool party trick. At the worst it was a minor inconvenience.
As he looked through more content, he eventually came to the footage of him running into Shane. He went to delete it, because that was the obvious thing to do, but something made him pause. He had kept his camera running when he'd run face first into the man, and he happened to catch a full shot of his face. It was blurry, but it was there. And there was something strange about it. He played the video back and saw it again. For a moment, not even a full second, Shane's eyes were gold.
He remembered that moment very clearly. The heat of Shane's body and the crunch of the leaves and the rush of air being knocked from his lungs. The sun was out, but from where Shane was standing, he had been cast in shadow. Ryan knew that in certain types of brown eyes, the sunlight could make them look gold, but that wasn't what was happening. Through the whole shot, the area was dark. How could his eyes be gold?
Unless his dreams were real. And he was the reincarnation of Persephone. And Shane was Hades, come from the Underworld in search of his queen.
Except that, that… was crazy. Gods weren't real. The gold must've been a lens flare or something. Although, he couldn't shake the feeling that something more was going on here. He cut the footage from his video, but saved it in a separate folder anyways.
Maybe the sleep deprivation was finally getting to him. Maybe he needed a drink. He wondered if any of his old college buddies wanted to go out tonight.
Or-- he could meet Shane at the Seashell.
It was Friday, he would be there, right? This could be his chance to meet him for real, have a friendly conversation with him, and maybe even figure this all out. But maybe, there wasn't anything to figure out. What if he just had an overactive imagination lately? Maybe he shouldn't have stopped seeing that therapist.
Either way, he was going to go to the Seashell. He would talk to Shane, have a good time, and get his number. He jotted down some final notes for his video and tucked his journal away before his manager came over and scolded him again.
You can do this, Ryan, he thought. It's just some fun. He’s just a guy.
After Shane had gotten the gang all set up in a hotel room with human identities, he couldn't go back to sleep. He was too jittery to try, so he cooked up some oatmeal and brewed a pot of coffee and brought out a notepad.
He jotted down some things for his staff to do for the day and brought out his sage burning bowl from the cupboard. Sara had gotten it for him when she noticed that he tended to get stressed out easily. He didn't really use it often, except to send notes to the underworld. He brought out a set of matches and struck one against the box. It lit up and he used it to burn the note, whispering the names of his servants as he did so. Maybe it was lazy, but it was faster than going back down. It helped him stay above the memories in his home.
After the paper was completely ash, Shane tossed the remains in the trash and put the bowl in the sink. Then he lit two candles and grabbed the cinnamon for his oatmeal. Once he was finally settled, he looked out the window to see that the sun was just starting to break the dark horizon. It was dawn. Dawn, something he never got to see in the underworld. Down below the horizon was a constant white to black gradient. Ominous and cold over the dark waters of Styx.
Overworld sunrises were completely different. When the sun is still settled behind the trees, you can see the sky start to lighten. From navy blue, to purple, to pink. Breaking the treeline brings more intense colors. Orange, red, and gold. It was gorgeous. He wondered how many humans truly appreciated how wonderful their world was. Although, it wasn't as if he were pure of that misfortune.
Shane sighed, turning his oatmeal in the bowl, suddenly feeling a bit too forlorn. His appetite vanished. He shook his head. He couldn't think like that now. Couldn't fall back into pointless misery.
He needed to come up with a plan before the other God's come back around. That group would be the death of him, he knew it. He didn't have any leads right now, though. However, something that Eugene said stuck to him. A thorn in his side, digging under his skin.
‘Or prince’.
Shane hadn't even considered that at all. Because of this oversight, he could have overlooked Persephone a thousand times over. In fact, as his mind started to wander back, he could recall some men in past generations that seemed to call to him- but at the time he'd ignored them. As ignorant as that sounded, he was simply too blinded by grief to think straight.
With this new information, Shane filed through all the possible men who could be Persephone. He wondered if any physical characteristics would carry over? Like her dark hair, or the dusting of freckles over her nose, or the petal-soft curve of her lips.
He didn't care too much about her body, but it would help him find her if she looked the same- or similar.
He racked his brain for some list of men he's met since coming to the overworld this time. It was dramatically shorter than the list of women, but maybe there was something to that. Maybe there was someone who would stand out from the rest…
Then it clicked.
Ryan .
Shane was on the edge of panic. He had missed a huge component of searching just because he was too stupid to think about it at all. The worst part was being reminded of this essential element via a God he didn’t like or want to associate with. He couldn’t deny, however, that if Eugene had never come up and suggested that, he would still be searching endlessly for women alone. To say he felt embarrassed was an understatement. He was supposed to be part of the big three. He was supposed to be… perceptive at the least.
But now he found himself right where he wanted to be the least. Last night he’d found the gang a hotel to stay at since it was too late to properly purchase any apartment. It was one of the cheaper chains, but still nice because of the area. He had just wanted to get them out his hair for the moment. They probably already knew he was there. He took a sharp breath in and walked into the hotel.
As he entered the lobby, he was distracted by the savory food smell. Oh yes, this hotel served breakfast until 11am. Although the Gods didn't need to eat to survive for the first few weeks in their human form, they greatly enjoyed doing so. Humans have always made food preparation into an art somehow. Using delicate balances of spices and techniques, they could create whatever craving they desired.
Shane was interested as well, but he knew that Eugene was behind the decision to stay at the hotel that had a bar and free breakfast. Eugene was the party God, after all. Enjoying indulgences and bodily pleasures since the dawn of mankind. The thought made Shane blush, but he shook it off as he rounded the corner into the hotels cafe.
He spotted them instantly. Although, it wasn't hard considering Eugene was the only one holding what was very obviously some vodka in a paper bag, Keith was arranging his food into some kind of art piece, Ned was talking avidly about his wife, and Zach was trying not to look like he'd desperately like to leave.
Shane approached cautiously, but his casual display was quickly shattered when he was spotted. Zach immediately stood and walked over, beaming.
“Hades!” he said, and Shane shot him a look.
“No,” he frowned, looking to see if any other patrons were listening. They all seemed pretty dead tired. “Call me Shane.”
Zach apologized, “oh, right, sorry!”
Shane shrugged it off and they went to sit with the rest of the group. The rest of the God's paused in what they were doing to look up at Shane. He sat down and everything was quiet for a painful second. He swallowed nervously.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “I've done a lot of thinking and,” he paused. The group looked like they were on the edge of their seats. “I think I know a lead for who Persephone is.”
The God's all had various positive reactions to the news. Eugene had a smirk on his face, leaning forward.
“What changed?” He asked. “You've been going in circles for millennia.”
Shane grit his teeth. He hated admitting that someone helped him. He hated even more to admit someone he kind of hated helped him. Well, he guessed he didn't hate Eugene. The guy was just kind of unpleasant sometimes.
“It was your comment yesterday.” He murmured. “You said ' or prince ’ and… I didn't even consider that until you said something.”
Eugene grinned. “Wow, pretty closed minded for a God to never think about that.”
Ned scoffed. “I think he was just too heartbroken to think straight.”
“Or to think anyway other than straight.” Keith joked. Shane looked unamused at the banter.
“Well who do you think it is?” Zach butt in. “Do you know his name?”
Shane nodded, wringing his hands, feeling suddenly nervous. “Yeah.” He couldn't take meeting their eyes so he stared down at the table. “His name is Ryan. I ran into him in the woods. I don't know anything about him.”
There was silence around him. He finally looked back up and the rest of the Gods were looking between themselves. It was almost like they were communicating silently somehow. Eventually, Keith looked back at Shane and smiled.
“So, you don't know anything about him?” He asked.
Shane was about to shake his head when he remembered a few things. “Well, he was shooting some video so he might have a channel. Um, he lives on my street I think… and I told him I go to the Seashell sometimes if he ever wanted to hang out.”
“Oh, well that's something.” Ned said, looking a little less stressed about the situation. “Why do you think he's the one?”
Shane stilled. He pursed his lips. Why did he think Ryan was the one? Because of that pulling feeling in the woods? Because of his deep brown eyes? Was it the feel of his body pressing into him and his small, soft hands?
“I was in the forest,” he said, scratching his chin. “There was this pulling in my chest. Like I was attached to a string. I felt drawn away. And then-- I met him.”
The other Gods looked a little in awe. It really did sound like it was meant to be when he said it like that. But he wasn't exaggerating. He didn't make that kind of thing up.
“Wow, that sounds magical.” Ned said after a breathless pause. “Did the feeling go away after you met him?”
Shane nodded. He felt so stupid now, after he got the chance to really think about it. The fates weren't so cruel. They were trying to bring them together and he ignored them. It made his head hurt thinking about it.
“Well, how do we find him?” Shane heard one of them say. He shook his head.
“I- I didn't get his number or anything. I didn't think I was gonna see him again. I told him about the bar though.” He explained. “He might go there tonight. Should I go?”
Zach piped up, “I think it's your best chance at seeing him again.” He said. “Do you really think you found him so easily?”
Shane looked at Zach for a moment before casting his eyes down. He studied the table and took a short breath in.
“I may have found him, but it's never so easy.” Shane said softly. The rest of the Gods fell silent. After a moment, Shane awkwardly laughed. “So, wanna get set up with a new apartment?”
When Ryan got home from work, he was nervous. He was going to go to the Seashell tonight, meet up with Shane, and clear everything up. Honestly, his nerves were on fire, his thoughts running a mile a minute. He was considering every outcome as he went through some daily routines.What if Shane didn't show? What if he didn't recognize him? What if he couldn't find the bar? What if the bar was unexpectedly closed? What if Shane wasn't even a nice guy, what if he was a serial killer?
There were a lot of things to consider when you went out on a limb like he was doing. He wanted to make a good impression, but he didn't want to seem like he was trying too hard. He also wanted to know what he was going to say to the man. What information is too much? What is too little? He didn't want to appear mysterious, because he was actually quite boring. Although, part of him also reminded him that the way they met was already like some meet-cute romance novel, so maybe it wouldn't end up being that bad after all.
Ryan managed to set aside his worry long enough to look at his clothes. He needed to pick an outfit, but he wasn't sure what look he was going for. His wardrobe mostly consisted of jerseys and basketball shorts, since he was lazy at best. He had some nicer outfits, mostly for work, but some for formal occasions.
After rummaging through his closet for thirty minutes he managed to muster up an outfit for the night. It was dark grey jeans, almost black, paired with a light grey button up. The button up had a tiny red rose pattern, giving the look some color back. Ryan debated wearing a bow tie, but ditched the idea last minute. It was a bar for Christ sake! He was already going to be overdressed. He just hoped Shane didn't dress like a hobo for this specific occasion- or just didn't show at all.
He checked all of his belongings three times. He had his wallet, with his ID, some cash, and card. He had his fully charged cell phone. He itched to bring his camera, but it would undoubtedly get damaged so he left it alone. Was that everything? He took one last look at his place before turning towards the door. His hand on the doorknob, he took a long breath in and then let it out slowly. He opened the door and went out.
Everything was going to be fine .
“Guys please, I need to go.” Shane said, although his voice didn't sound urgent. He was too tired to sound urgent.
After breakfast, Shane and the group had scoped out new apartments. Despite his best efforts, they ended up landing a place right next door to Shane's apartment complex that was slightly higher quality and also much larger than his own. He kinda hoped the group would be drawn to the more lavish apartments… the ones that were further away from him. But now they were involved with him. Zach, especially, wanted to help Shane. Ned thought the whole thing was romantic, which Shane would have to pass a hard disagree on.
After they sorted out the paperwork, they booked the hotel for a few more nights until move in. Then the group decided that they wanted to pick out Shane's outfit for tonight.
Cue four extra people in Shane's little apartment bedroom, throwing about clothing and arguing amongst themselves for a few hours.
Shane needed a drink. Lots of drinks. And fast. Very fast.
Currently, Ned and Eugene were both holding up shirts to Shane's torso and shouting over which one looked nicer. It was a close tie between a disco patterned button up and a soft, charcoal grey sweater.
“Well I think this sweater gives a welcoming, homey vibe. You know, imagine coming home from work to your husband wearing a cozy looking sweater. Wouldn't you want to snuggle up?” Ned defended his choice well. Shane liked the particular sweater he was holding. It was well worn and comfortable, something he wore on lazy days.
Eugene scoffed. “He's going to a bar, not your grandmother's Christmas party! This shirt has more pop, it catches the eye. And ugly patterns are in now! It perfectly matches his personality. Modern, but cool.”
Shane had to admit, they both had good arguments. Although, he wasn't sure how ‘ modern, but cool ’ he was. He did like the disco patterned shirt. It was mostly a joke, but he was also pretty fond of how it fit.
Zach butted in. “I say disco pattern.” In the background, Keith nodded in agreement. Ned stomped his foot, not unlike a child being told 'no’ . Shane swallowed down a laugh.
“You guys have no sense!” He tossed the sweater onto Shane's bed and crossed his arms in a huff.
“Disco pattern it is then?” Shane said, sounding relieved. He was itching to leave. He didn't care what he was wearing at this point.
“I hope this Ryan guy likes losers,” Ned muttered under his breath.
The rest of them chuckled at the comment, and left Shane to get changed. After the outfit was situated, he simply looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, even after many attempts at combing his fingers through it. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and he looked plain tired. He wondered what Ryan would think about him.
Was he even going to show up? Was this a good idea?
He sighed. There was only one way to find out.
He left his bedroom to find the boys in the kitchen. There were five shot glasses all in a line down the counter. They had some sort of clear liquid in it. Shane paled.
Eugene was holding a bottle of vanilla vodka, and he laughed at the other God's expression.
“Don't worry, it's not poison!” He joked. “We thought one shot to give you a little confidence boost?”
The rest of them nodded enthusiastically and picked up their own glasses. Eugene put the bottle down and picked up two glasses, handing one off to Shane.
“To Hades’ love life!” Eugene cheered. The rest of them laughed. Shane pretended to gag.
“To Hades’ love life!”
The bar was crowded. Well, to be fair it was the weekend, of course people would be excited to go out. The seashell was one of his favorite places to hang out and observe people.
Humans were curious creatures. Like the God's, they had complex emotions and intricate bonds. They had desires and needs that weren't always so easy to understand. Unlike the God's, however, they were inhibited by their mortality. For example, if two people were brawling in this bar, it wouldn't normally get too out of hand, lest someone get mortally wounded.
Besides the laws in their society, humans naturally feared things they couldn't understand. Death, afterlife, religion, mental illness, the list goes on. To watch humans interact in such a vulnerable place. A bar, where morals are loosened, where bars are lowered. It was interesting.
Though today, he wasn't people watching. He was here for a reason.
He leaned against an open bar stool and ordered a simple beer. The shot from earlier wasn't enough to buzz him, but it did make him feel warm- and a little less anxious.
“Would you like the start a tab, sir?” the bartender asked him.
“Yes, thank you,” he said and handed her his credit card. A few patrons mingled around the bar. The Seashell wasn't the largest bar every, but it was a fairly good sized building. It had an upper floor that was a sit down restaurant, and this lower level was the bar. It wasn't dingy-- clean enough to make you feel okay about sticking around.
After a few moments, he checked his phone.
Sara : what are you doing this weekend?
Shane gave a soft hum at the text. He'd been so busy carting around that gaggle of Gods that he completely forgot about Sara. He hoped she wasn't too upset about it. She undoubtedly knew he was a busy guy.
Shane : I dunno yet. I met someone. I'm at the bar right now waiting for him.
Just then the bartender passed him his beer. He smiled as he thanked her. He took a sip, and a moment later a woman leaned on the stool next to him.
“Hey,” she said to him. Shane had to do a double take to realize that it was actually him she was talking to. “You here all by yourself?”
Shane swallowed nervously. It wasn't that he'd never been flirted with before, it was more like-- he really didn't need to be dealing with such a situation right now. What if Ryan saw him and got angry? Although, it wasn't as if the two were dating. Even if that might be in their future.
He would have to see if his theory was correct first, before he thought about that.
“N-no, I'm waiting for someone.” He said, thankfully only stuttering a little bit. The girl looked on mischievously.
“Who is it, your girlfriend? Your wife?” She leaned into his space. He pulled back, but she was still uncomfortably close. He felt a nervous sweat on the back of his neck.
His phone buzzed.
Sara : Met someone? Ohmygod you have to tell me all the deets! He's a dude? What's his name? Is he pretty?
Shane gave a short huff of laughter at the text. Then he smiled slyly and looked back at the woman.
“Yeah, I'm waiting for my boyfriend.” He said, sternly. The women's face fell and she backed off.
“Ahh, okay then.” With that, she left. Shane grimaced, even though he felt better with her gone. He took a long drink of his beer.
Shane : His name is Ryan. He's short. Cute. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He makes videos. Might have a YouTube channel. Don't know yet though.
When he looked up from his phone this time, he felt a soft tugging in his heart. He glanced towards the door and instantly saw him.
Ryan was dressed casually, but still nice. He looked nervous, but determined. In fact, Shane wasn't sure how he didn't see the similarities before. The boy really did look like a modern, male Persephone.
Then Ryan looked his way and smiled. It was blinding. Shane waved him over.
“Hey, you're here.” Ryan said. He blushed then, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “W-well, of course you are. You said you'd be here…”
Shane stifled a laugh at Ryan's little stumble. He knew what the boy meant. You couldn't always be sure when you're making plans with strangers.
“No worries, I wouldn't ditch you.” He smiled. “I'm a little surprised you came, too. I was worried you might've thought I was some kind of creep.”
Ryan laughed at that. “No, no! You're not creepy, well-- as far as I can tell. Although, we did meet each other in the woods.” He looked away for a moment, and noticed Shane's beer. “Already started, huh?”
“Of course. Hey, drinks on me, yeah?” He offered. Ryan blushed again.
“On you? Oh, no, I--” Ryan started, but cut himself off. He seemed to ponder it for a moment before sighing. “Oh- okay. As long as you let me pay the next time.”
“Next time? You must like me.” Shane couldn't help but laugh. Ryan lightly punched him in the arm.
Shane ordered two more drinks for them and they chatted away. Ryan barely spoke a word or two about his job, but went off about his YouTube channel. He loved film and vlogging helped him a lot with practicing different filming and editing styles. It also helped him build his portfolio so that he could break into a career in it. Shane gave some vague description of an accountant as his job, and mostly steered the conversation towards his hobbies. Gardening, reading, and watching movies were his top three. He mostly liked movies for the popcorn, though, if he was being honest.
“Oh yeah, same. Popcorn is my favorite food!" Ryan said, grinning. “I like it classic, though. Just a spritz of butter and a dash of salt and you're good to go!”
“One time I walked into a theater and bought a large popcorn even though I wasn't seeing a movie.” Shane said. Ryan laughed. “The employees eyed me strangely, but otherwise it was a liberating experience.”
“What kinds of things do you garden?” Ryan asked. He was on his fifth or sixth beer, Shane noticed. He had switched to water after his third beer. He hoped Ryan wasn't drinking too much. Though he was curious about how he would act, drunk.
“Well, I can't do much with my current apartment. But I do grow lots of flowers. I set them up on all my windows and try my hardest to keep them alive.” He paused, suddenly feeling a bit forlorn. “Gardening reminds me of someone I used to know. They were really special to me.”
“Who?” Ryan asked, though he bit his lip and quickly said, “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want.”
Shane shook his head. His heart hurt to talk about Persephone, but he'd been hurting for so long that it was natural for him. He smiled.
“Her name was Persie.” He said, leaning against the bar. Ryan moved in closer, interest written on his face. “She was really one of a kind. Plants in her care thrived effortlessly, any kind, no matter the weather. She had such a way with animals, too. Even the most savage beasts would roll over for a rub when she was around.” He paused, letting out a sigh. “I have this dog. He's quite a vicious dog, trained in guarding territory. The first time she met him, he whined and licked her hand. He hasn't even done that with me. It was amazing.”
Ryan smiled, “wow, she sounds wonderful. What happened to her?”
Shane let his face fall a bit at the question. “I-- uh,” he hesitated, taking a sip of his water. His voice was nothing but a whisper. “She… she went away.”
Ryan frowned empathetically. “I'm so sorry.”
Shane was quiet for a moment, before peeking back up. “It's alright. That was a long, long time ago.”
Ryan downed the rest of his beer. There was a constant pink tinge in his face from drinking, Shane could tell. It was rather cute.
“Hey, this may or may not be too much info, but speaking of more serious things, I keep having these weird dreams.” Ryan started. He inched closer to Shane, enough so that he could lean against him. Shane blushed, but didn't pull away. “Sometimes i'm on a long, white sand beach somewhere I've never seen before. Sometimes I'm drowning in dark water. Once, I was in a magnificent castle. But I'm always someone else.” He paused. “Well. I'm still me, but people call me another name. I have even seen myself in my dream. I look the same, but also-- different. A different version of myself.”
“What do they call you in these dreams?” Shane asked. His heart pounded. What Ryan was about to say might change everything.
Ryan opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, he winced and brought up a hand to his head like he was hurt. Shane put an arm around his shoulders, but Ryan was quick to push him away.
“I should go,” he said. Shane was kind of stunned. He wasn’t sure what to say. As Ryan got up to leave, he grabbed the man’s arm.
“Wait--” he started. Ryan looked back at him then, and Shane could’ve sworn his eyes flashed gold.
He let go.
Ryan left the bar quickly and disappeared from sight. Shane still had his hand open, the lingering feeling of pressing skin to skin still on his fingers. Those eyes. Shane’s heart pounded away. His phone buzzed.
Sara : He sounds cute! Don’t mess it up!
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Diary of Kiyomi Haunterly
Reading my diary without permission would not be honorable.
30/04
I had one of those dreams last night where I was running like I was a solid. It was so liberating to feel the grass on my toes and the hard surface of the ground with each step I took. The clouds were so far above me that I could not touch them, and I had to go around obstacles instead of over or through them. Then the dream changed, and I was standing in a big room with many other solids, and there was music and dancing and beautiful party dresses, and I woke up. I must have been dream flying, because I was hovering above our house. I floated back down to my bedroom and tried to go back to sleep in hopes of rejoining the party in my dream, but I could not. I just floated there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember every detail. I liked the feeling of being in the middle of the party instead of quietly watching from the sidelines. I suppose I must have been trying harder than I realized to reconnect to the dream world, because something unexpected and remarkable happened. A tiny hole opened above me – not in the roof – but in the air. Light from another world poured into my room like reality had sprung a leak. Had I just opened a portal into the dream world? I gasped, lost concentration, and it was gone. I do not know what happened or how, but I must find out.
01/05
Today as I was passing through the halls and trying to avoid breaking one of Principal Revenant’s many rules, I heard a voice above me say, “Hey Kiyomi, why so blue?” I looked up to see Porter floating on his back, balancing a spray can of ghost paint on one finger. I can never tell if Porter is teasing or being serious, but I glanced down at my hands, and they were indeed the color of a blue funk; although they were quickly taking on a purplish tinge as scarlet embarrassment washed over me. Porter floated down and passed down the hall next to me. “You’ve really been stuck on cerulean lately – what’s up with that?” How could I tell him that I was sad because of a dream? So instead I told him that I was surprised he even noticed me at all. He laughed and said, “I’m an artist and you have colorful personalities – why wouldn’t I notice you?” I am afraid I blushed again, but Porter pretended not to notice as he turned and painted a mustache on a poster of Principal Revenant. I asked if he was afraid of getting in trouble. “Nah, it’ll disappear before she sees it, although boo knows – she might like it.” I cannot tell why I felt at that moment that I could trust him – but I did – so I asked if he ever wanted to be something other than what he was. I thought he might laugh at me, but he got a serious look on his face instead. “Sometimes I think unlife would be easier if I was just a regular ghost, if there really is such a thing. But if I was just a regular ghost I wouldn’t be able to do this.” Then Porter rose to the ceiling, and using a can of paint in each hand, wrote:
A quiet presence
Kiyomi Haunterly ghost
In colors beauty speaks
It was the nicest thing any ghost has ever done for me, and I stood there looking up at it until the ghost paint faded away. I could hear Porter laughing as he disappeared through a wall. “That’s a lovely shade of blush you have on.” Well, at least there wasn’t enough blue left to turn it purple.
03/05
Tonight I successfully opened another portal. This time I was able to hold it open a little longer, but instead of light shining through I heard the sound of laughter. It was not the mocking laughter of someone who is happy at your misfortune, but the genuine laughter of friends. I wanted to look through to see who was making such a joyful noise. Unfortunately, my kaiju woke up and roared like he needed to go out, so I lost concentration and the portal closed again. I must learn more about this ability, though I dare not tell or risk asking any ghost. I shall go tomorrow to the library and find out what there is to know, if there is something to know.
04/05
Oh my ghost. I copied this page on portals from a reference book in the library:
There are only three known ways to travel between the ghost world and the world of solids. The first – and it all practicality, only way – available to the majority of ghosts is to secure passage on one of the reaper vessels that navigate the currents of light, which in certain places link the two worlds. This is by far the most reliable method, although final reservations must be made at least a day in advance, as float-up passengers are always turned away.
The second way is also via reaper, as their scythes have the power to slice through the unseen barrier that separates the two worlds. Reapers do not, however, make outward-bound trips with passengers.
The third and final way is a power seemingly unique to the infamous “Red Lady.” Although she never elaborated how her powers work, it is theorized that she had the ability to open a portal to any place in the solid world by simply willing it. This theory remains unproven mainly because, when asked how she did it, the Red Lady’s reply was, “Wouldn’t boo like to know?”
I haven’t been opening portals to the dream world – I’ve been opening them to the solid world. What do I do now? Will I become the next Red Lady?
06/05
It has not taken long for curiosity to sweep aside any haunting worries of becoming the next Red Lady. I am not her, I am me. So now, after many hours of practice, I can open a portal large enough to see through, and can keep it open even if I become distracted. I have been watching a group of monster ghouls who seem to be very close, and for whom friendship plays a large role in their unlives. I am most fascinated by a vampire ghoul called Draculaura. I think her fashion sense is… totes adorbs… and her vocabulary, while strange to my ears, is simply put… fun. I have even started using little bits of it in my everyday speech, and I have made several of my school mates genuinely laugh out loud. This is strange to me, and I believe to them as well, as they have remarked, “Kiyomi, we had no idea you were so funny – where do you come up with this stuff?” I simply tell them that I have a good teacher, and then leave them wondering who that might be.
08/05
I opened a portal today and what – or rather who – I saw caused me to break out in ghost bumps. It happened like this: Draculaura was showing off a new pair of shoes. I was fascinated by their design, so much so that I did not pay attention to anyone or anything else around me. That is when I heard Draculaura say, “Spectra! Check out my new purchase. Aren’t they just to un-die for?” Spectra Vondergeist! She and I had been beast friends before she left the ghost world for the solid. I quickly closed the portal hoping she had not seen me. Perhaps I am being selfish, but I do not wish any ghost or solid to know about my newfound ability. It is my secret alone, at least for now.
10/05
I have taken much courage from haunting out with my “friend” Draculaura. I have already begun to use some of her words, and now I think I should like to imitate her style. That is why I journeyed to the phantom island of Hy Brasil today in order to shop at the fashion markets there, which are… totes off the chain. My family is friends with the captain of a ghost yacht, and since he was taking his own family over, I asked if I might go along. The island was already scary busy by the time we arrived, and I was orange with expectation. I promised to meet everyone back at the yacht by sundown and then faded into the crowd. The first thing I did was head straight to where the fashion vendors were selling their wares. There were fabrics in more colors than even I could feel! I felt unalive in a way that I never had before, and for the first time in my unlife, being anonymous didn’t make me shy. It made me bold. I even bargained with some of the sellers to get a better price. Before I would buy anything, though, I would duck into a dressing room and haunt in on Draculaura and the ghouls to try and match the fashions they were wearing. I only saw one other ghost that I knew, and that was River Styxx, but I saw her on the other side of a crowded square, and I was able to vanish from sight before she saw me again. I like River, she has always been very kind to me, but I wanted this to be my day. Maybe that was selfish of me, but it was how I felt at that moment. The day ended too soon, and before I knew it we were casting off and motoring out of the harbor. On the way to Hy Brasil I stayed in my cabin. On the way back I stood on the bow. As the wind blew through my hair, I knew I was going to do something bold with my unlife. I cannot wait to begin.
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The Bermuda Triangle
The Bermuda Triangle is easily one of the most paranormal places on Earth. More than the singing glacier. More than the pit of vampires which is just an infinitely deep pit full of vampires. Even more than Hyperboa, the floating island that moves with the Earth so that it is always sunny. Yet, we have found in our travels and studies that the Bermuda Triangle is rarely weird for the same reason in every universe. Sure, it’s always the place where planes and ships and subs go missing, but the source of it is hardly the same across dimensions. It is as though there is a multiversal rule that the Bermuda Triangle must be a hive for Weird Factor activity but it was like a really vague rule that was open to interpretation so everyone has there own way of following the rule. Like for example, when I was in lower school we had a rule that you couldn’t cheer with noise. If you wanted to congratulate someone you could only do silent cheers, so as not to take up so much time. But there are a lot of things you can do to cheer someone on without making noise. Including, as my teacher soon learned, a twenty minute multi-step interpretive dance. The Bermuda Triangle is like that. Fortunately for you we’ve spent some time traversing the multiverse (and outright guessing) and so we’ve be able to compile this here list of...
Things that might explain the Bermuda Triangle in your universe:
A giant invisible monster that loves eating vehicles.
A portal to another universe.
A giant magnet at the bottom of the ocean that pulls in boats and planes.
Shrinking energy that causes any vehicle to pass through it to shrink down so people think they’ve gone missing when in reality they’ve just set off to have a series of exciting and death-defying micro-adventures!
The Bermuda Triangle is actually home to the sickest party scene in the entire world. Boats enter it, realize that a dope time is being had by all, and decide to just stick around. Forever.
Dr. Brainwave’s lair filled with unstable machinery that keeps going off without his supervision. <Yeah, that’s why I moved. That plus the free rent.> Wait we’re not even charging you rent?!
A whirlpool that’s also a time vortex whaaaaaat?
Mystical blue lightning that grants sentience to vehicles who all decide that they’re done being slaves to humans and strike out on their own after ditching their passengers on a random island (if they’re lucky).
Nuclear sea life.
Angry Atlantians who are trying to get some sleep.
Demons disguised as water.
Its actually a transdimensional city.
Lizard Mafia headquarters.
The Safest Place On Earth™ a resort which advertised itself as being the safest place on Earth before it went completely off the rails. You see, in pursuit of this goal, the staff developed an AI that automatically removes potential dangers from the island. Obviously the very first thing it did was murder the staff so good luck trying to get a frikkin airplane anywhere near it.
Giants who need bath toys.
People who hate birds and will do whatever it takes to knock them out of the sky but don’t actually know what birds look like.
Greek monsters.
A large contingency of “funny uncles”.
This is an interesting one. You ever wonder where light houses go when they fall out of use? You’d be surprised to learn that only about 43% of them become occupied by bearded men in yellow rain slickers who then live there for all eternity. The rest of them all get inexplicably warped away to one dimension’s Bermuda Triangle. Once there they serve to confuse any ships who have the misfortune of passing through, often causing them to crash into other light houses.
That’s where they put all the dinosaurs.
Aliens.
Aliens but not ^those ones. Different ones. They’re just trying to abduct the water, you know, for drinking, and all these stupid ships keep floating into the tractor beams. You can’t drink a ship. It’s just a huge waste of everybody’s time.
Ship-in-a-bottle enthusiasts who don’t entirely get the hobby and just trap full size ships inside giant bottles and then shrink them.
The United States government is just wholesale stealing people.
IRL pop-up ads. (Ironically most of these are for compasses.)
In one universe the Bermuda Triangle is sort of like a one stop witness protection shop. Ships go in, magically get entirely new paint jobs and everyone on board gets an entirely new identity aaaaaaaand memory wipe. Wacky stuff wacky stuff.
A big ol trap door. (This is only in universes where the world is literally a stage.)
Heavily armed cannibals.
In some universes the eponymous triangle is actually a ramp that leads all the way up into space where the ships just kind of float around forever. (The people inside all die.)
“The notion that the Bermuda Triangle is a supernatural or paranormal location where a disproportionate amount of ships and planes have been lost has been dismissed by most reputable sources. In reality the vicinity of the Bermuda Triangle is amongst the world’s most heavily trafficed shipping lanes. The overwhelming majority of ships and aircraft that pass through it do so completely unscathed.” So a government coverup I guess.
As a superhero, you’ll no doubt be called upon to investigate many a disappearing ship or plane in the Bermuda Triangle. So study up. It’s going to get weird out there, so it’s best to be prepared.
#Superhero#superheroes#comics#comedy#humor#funny#hilarious#creative writing#The Bermuda Triangle#Bermuda#Dr. Brainwave#witness protection#government coverups#aliens#demons#monsters#Lizard mafia
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