#it’s her nightly ritual and she seems very happy about it

[chasteblowjay]

Wish I had a dog that purred or made other cute, low volume noises.

Amelia just kinda opens her mouth and goes “OHHHhhhhhhhAAAAAAAAAH AH AH OHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” while trying to stick her head in between couch cushions like she’s digging for change.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (ii) - pt 1 here!!

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : matt is still a grumpy ass but y/n can't seem to get him off of her mind.

warnings : idk uhhh matt’s rude but in a love hate kinda way 😋! also alcohol/drinking (i headcannon everyone 21+!)

mickey speaks : shes finally hereeeee and shes kinda long. im hoping to post more consistently!! luv u guys enjoy <3 ignore the fact that the pic above has a yt girl in it this story is for everyone i promise !!!! i just liked the little green vibe ok? ok.

THIS IS PART TWO GO READ PART ONE FIRST DUH!!!!

AND of course you see matt again.

only a month ago, you were introduced and forced to spend an hour of your time in close proximity to him, no matter his disinterest. yet, also, only a month ago, were you gifted with the cutest tiny tattoo that continues to surprise you a little whenever you lift your shirt before a warm shower.

it hasn’t bothered you nearly as much as you'd assumed - only disrupting your life with the caution you now take to avoid irritating the skin at your lower stomach. though some nights you grow lazy, you’ve maintained a very disciplined attitude of incorporating time in your morning and nightly rituals to ensure the tiny hello kitty inked on you is properly cared for.

contrary, your interactions with matt bothered you far more than you assumed. your sub-concious must've held onto your attempts to break past his careless attitude (that greatly opposed your own people-pleasing nature) just to pettily haunt you. but you've you forced yourself to get over it at this point. you just had to after one night, the week following your tattoo appointment (and after a long day of rude professors and pretentious customers blaming you for their own mistakes), you broke down to andrea:

you sniffle before your voice breaks again, "everyone's just mean. and- and i was so fucking annoying last saturday. it keeps playing over in my head. i'm so embarrassed and i just know he hated me, but i dont know why?! i thought i was nice enough. he could've just smiled or maybe just- i-"

andrea pauses from petting your head, "honey, you're not still talking about the guy who tatted you, right?" you look up at her from your head's soft spot in her lap with glossy eyes and a quivering lip.

"dre-" you choke.

"oh my god! no! y/n, you can't take shit like that personal. not everyone enjoys talking or happiness for that matter, you can't hold on to something like that. i promise he's not too hung up on it himself." she wipes away one of your pitiful tears.

and here he is, standing across the room from you at a party.

you definitely did not expect to see matt (who’s mild attitude was clearly fueled by socializing) in this scene but you guess that la parties are just like that. as long as you know someone who knows someone you’re easily in, that's how you tend to get into these events at least. though an insta stalk would tell you matt has enough clout to get himself in, he and his brothers have built quite the brand for themselves among la socialites.

once your eyes spot him over the shoulder of some guy who just introduced himself to you, they can’t seem to move. you watch as matt smiles for a photo with a few others. matt. smiles. okay, so maybe it was a you problem. he doesn’t hate everyone maybe just you.

though, your thoughts are denied as quickly as his face drops. he doesn’t even care to look at how the image may have turned out like the rest of the group. instead, his eyes opt to watching the people around him as he sips his weak drink.

great, now you’ve become the weirdo watching him watch other people.

until his eyes catch your cautious yet curious stare from across the room. your cheeks heat and you’re immediately shifting your eyes back to the man in front of you.

matt almost smirks at his luck. no fucking way the scared sweetheart he’d tattooed just a few weeks ago is here. he looks away when someone lays a hand on his shoulder to bring him back into the conversation. you're surprised that he continues to look back over to you after adding his input.

the guy finally acknowledges your disengagement with the story about his new motorcycle and turns to see what exactly you’re staring at. he sees matt and turns back to you, “you know him?”

“yeah. well not like know-know we only met once, he gave me a tattoo.”

“oh, cool,” he looks back over to matt and turns back to you once again, “is he bothering you?”

your face scrunches initially, “no, it’s fine.” you smile at him, not wanting to give him the impression that matt did anything but exist (which apparently is enough to capture your attention).

“good. wanna go grab another drink and tell me more about this tattoo?” a charming smile morphs on face and you nod your head easily, taking his hand and leading him towards the bar outside of this large home. and away from matt.

“two-” you look over to the man beside you, “wait is this an open bar?” you ask him genuinely and he laughs a little at your aloofness.

“yeah,” he nods.

“perfect, we’ll take two kamikaze shots pretty please!” you smile at the bartender who seems to be enjoying her night quite a bit and squeeze his hand when you realize it’s still in your own. he looks down at your attached hands then back to you.

you turn your body to face him more directly and lean up to his ear, cupping your hand and whispering, “i’m so sorry, i think i forgot your name.” you were starting to feel bad and just had to confess.

you lean back and bite your lip to hide an awkward smile, and he somehow smiles harder than he already was, “it’s-”

“ashton!” you hear a voice yell hurriedly and now some dark haired guy is pulling him away from you and repeatedly saying “code red!” in his face. and suddenly, without any indication he’d enjoyed your short lived time together, he’s gone.

you try not to sulk but he was an attractive guy with easy conversation, so you at least hoped to get his number by the end of the night.

instead, you’re left leaning against the bar hoping those shots come around soon. you decide to update your friends on your night:

Y/N

cute guy lefttttt :(

REMI

noooooo he was so cute 😫

Y/N

don’t remind me

ANDREA

where r you now???

Y/N

outside bar, im waiting on shots

Y/N

come find me💔💔

your head shoots up from your phone when three guys practically ram themselves into the bar near you, a few people around them laughing obnoxiously.

"god damnit, chris! we said we were going slowly!"

"shhhh. you are so loud, matt!"

“excuse me, can we get some water? none of the sparkles or bubbles and shit, just water, please.”

“next time i'm speaking for myself! what if i wanted the bubbles?”

you lean your head a little to get a full view of the three recognizable faces. chris, with his arms dangled over his two brothers’ shoulders clearly obliterated and slurring his words (but excited to be there nonetheless). a blonde one, you haven’t gotten the chance to meet yet, with two nose piercings and a commanding voice. and matt, with his signature pout, even poutier now that chris’ weight is causing him to hunch over slightly. you guess you were bound to run into them.

you wonder if andrea was right in saying matt hadn’t held onto your exchange. you wonder if when he saw you earlier he remembered you for your friendly smile rather than your annoying nagging. or did he even remember you at all? did he only look at you because you were staring him down first? okay, where the fuck are those shots?!

“no way!" you hear chris’ voice screech upon recognizing you from across the bar, "y/n!?”

you look over and see him shockingly excited to see your face again. you smile in an attempt to not allow your nerves about matt get to you. you are never one to deny a conversation after all.

“oh my god! hi!” you reply as chris unwraps himself from his brothers and moves closer to you.

“how’s your tat treatin’ you?” his eyes express so much excitement he reminds you of a little kid. you’re very flattered to see someone feel so much emotion due to your mere presence.

“oh, it’s still so cute, no regrets so far. i love it.” you smile and he nods while you’re speaking.

he turns around and sees his brothers and a few friends remaining in the other side of the bar talking amongst themselves. “yo, get the fuck over here! why are you guys so far?” he encourages them with a hand wave.

you wave as well, trying not to be a total stranger- even if you are.

the blonde guy leads them over and hands chris a glass of water that must’ve been waiting on him.

“cheers,” chris smirks and takes a sip before a disgusted look takes over his face, “gross. my god! why do they make this shit so bland?”

the blonde boy rolls his eyes in amusement, mumbling, "just drink it," before approaching you kindly. "hey, i’m nick by the way."

“y/n, nice to meet you! i met chris and matt when i got my tattoo done at your shop a while ago.” you explain kindly.

before nick can get another word in a female voice is squealing, “you’re y/n?! hi, i’m asha, i don't know if your remember but we talked on the phone that one time!” a tanned girl with soft cheeks and dark loose curls moves herself in front of the boys.

“of course i remember, how could i forget that insane frog story? it's so nice seeing you in person finally!” you gush.

suddenly chris is beaming, “aww wait guys this is so cute! i’m feeling like we should all hug!” he nods to his brothers who are quick to shake their heads no.

“i don’t think..” nick starts.

“nooo! let’s hug!” chris argues and opens his arms wide gesturing for everyone to hug him.

౨ৎ

after sharing a very drunk and messy group hug you all continue to talk until chris finally blurts, "i gotta go pee so bad guys, " he laughs, "but i need people with me because if i walk in on someone puking, then what? i'll die from my severe" (its not severe at all) "emetophobia and no one will ever know?"

you and asha (who you've found is actually so similar to you) both laugh at his crisis.

matt just breathes a laugh.

"chris, there’s no reason to go further with the fear factor when no one said they wouldn't come with you. i’m coming, so you're not gonna die, let's go." nick shakes his head.

“you don’t understand, nick i would be dead and covered in- i can’t even say it, dude,” chris’ voice fades as they walk away.

"wait, i'll walk with you guys inside! 'm... getting cold out here!" asha suddenly says removing herself from your side and waving goodbye with a drunk smile.

"it's not cold at all, she's trippin'" matt speaks watching her run and practically jump onto nick, causing the three laugh while leaving the crowded yard.

you just shrug and lean onto the bar again, making eye contact with the bartender who looks as if she only just remembered your existence but also seems to mentally question where the other guy went and how you managed to replace him that quickly.

"are you always so nice about everything?" matt questions, leaning his forearms on the bar, still looking at you.

"what?" you look over to him now, feeling almost sick at his proximity.

he mocks you with a high tone in his voice, "'it's soooo nice to meet you! it's soooo nice seeing you!' it sounds exhausting, to be honest."

"didn't realize having manners got you jail time," you breathe.

"and i never said it did."

"well, i don't have to be nice to you if it bothers you so much," you shrug.

"aw, sunshine, you'd do that for me? you're too sweet." he almost laughs at his own sarcastic comment.

you lick your bottom lip out of habit, "why are you still here? don't you have friends you should be ignoring?" you hope he can't tell just how frustrated he's making you.

“you must think you know me.”

“i know you don’t like me.”

“wrong, again.” he smiles and points his finger at you.

“oh, you just don’t like anyone then?”

he glances away before responding, “what's the fun in telling you?”

you huff in defeat, wanting nothing more than those shots right now. though your subconcious hopes the bartender continues to prioritize her flirting customers over you just so you can continue this addicting back and forth with matt.

"you know, that’s the thing with people like you. you think everyone owes you everything." he shakes his head.

"people like me?” you scoff under your breath, “matt, why are you still here?"

he can pick out the offense in your tone, "oh shit, that was true? i was fucking with you, sunny!"

"you don't know anything about me," you laugh and shake your head.

"alright there are those kamikaze shots for you! so sorry about that major delay, honey!" the bartender sets the shots in front of the both of you and smiles at you apologetically.

"don't worry about it, thank you!" you hand her a spare five dollar bill from your back pocket.

when she's gone you finally notice matt's widened eyes.

"what's up with your face, now?"

"you gave her a tip for pouring you some rankydank, fuckin' low level shots after you've waited long enough for her to apologize?" he seems genuinely shocked.

"she only makes money off of tips," you roll your eyes, picking the shot up and gesturing towards the second shot for him to take.

"that's all you," he raises his hands towards his chest.

"oh my god, do it, matt."

he shakes his head and points to you, "you take your shot, sweetheart."

"i knew you wouldn't, pussy," you say under your breath before smirking as you down the alcohol you've been craving since you first saw his face.

upon your insult matt is immediately taking the shot along side you. and just as both of your faces adjust to the taste, matt's phone begins to vibrate.

he grabs it and you attempt to hide your own curiosity by asking the bartender for a lime to suck on (not daring to ask for alcohol again because you simply don't want to be hung up at this bar for any longer).

"yeah, yeah still here," matt plays with his bottom lip and looks down at you with your mouth full of lime. he thinks you look pretty adorable, especially under the blush pink fairy lights hanging above the bar. "'kay, i'll be quick. alright, nick. i will. bye."

he puts his phone away and wipes his mouth, "that shit was fucking vile, by the way."

"okay, drama queen."

"mhm," his face falters back into his usual pout, "well i gotta go, but, um, nick wanted me to invite you to this get together thing we host at the warehouse, it's in like a month but, you know, come if you want." he shrugs.

"tell him of course i will, but only because he asked." you smile sarcastically.

౨ৎ

ANDREA - 12:39 AM

y/n where are you we are both so confused rn help

ANDREA - 12:45 AM

hellooo????

ANDREA - 12:47 AM

GIRL WE'RE OUTSIDE AND WE DONT SEE YOU TF

Y/N - 1:06 AM

WHERE ARE U GUYS RN I JSUT SAW TATTOO GUY AGASSN IM LOSUNG MY MIND JUST A LUTTLE BIT

Y/N - 1:06 AM

I WAS AT THE OTHER OITSIDE BAR IN THE FRONT(?) YARD!!!!! but its ok im gonba find u guys

౨ৎ

a few days later matt comes across your instagram story, forgetting he had followed you in the first place. it was a picture of you and your friends from the same night he had seen you again. it's a simple mirror photo where you're all smiling but besides your soft skin and cute outfit, matt's attention focuses on frank ocean's pyramids playing over the story.

you see the notification later that day when you finally get time on your phone:

matthew.sturniolo liked your story

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

[lemonxdaisybby]

First ‘I Love You’ - Ichigang/Y7

Tried to keep these a bit shorter this time. Also I am halfway through Infinite Wealth so happy to start taking requests for IW characters too, although I might not get to some of them straight away depending on the character, with me not having finished the game yet. 

Not too bothered about spoilers, but would prefer to avoid them if possible when receiving asks 💕

Ichiban:

Ichi would be the one to say it first, and also he’d say it fairly early on in the relationship too. Man falls hard and quick. He wouldn’t just say it either, he’d more shout it, partly because he’s so eager to tell you, and also because he’s so nervous. His proclamation of love would accidentally come out louder than intended.

He’d likely have planned a date around it, intending to make it a special day by taking you out, and declaring his love for you then. He would have a clear scenario in his head of how he would want it to go. He’d picture himself being all cool and smooth as he drops the first ‘I love you’. Of course, as mentioned, he would be neither cool nor smooth.

He would be so happy if you said it back to him. He would be grinning so widely, and would scoop you up in to the biggest hug ever. Wholesome, happy Ichi.

Nanba:

You would be the first to say it, as Nanba would probably be too nervous to do so himself. He would almost be afraid of being rejected, despite already being in a relationship with you. Some days, he probably still can’t quite believe that you’re with him. He often has thoughts of low self-worth.

He would be so surprised when you say ‘I love you’ for the first time. His eyebrows would just shoot up, and he’d look so taken aback. He would recover quickly though, and say it right back, whilst wearing a happy little smile, and his cheeks holding the faintest of blushes. He’d feel so warm and content inside.

It wouldn’t be said very often going forward. Maybe if one of you were going away for a while on a trip, or if he’s about to pull off some dangerous stuff with the Ichigang, then you’d probably swap an ‘I love you’.

Adachi:

Adachi would say it first, although he’d wait quite a while into the relationship before telling you. He’s had a few longer-term relationships in the past that never worked out, so he would want to avoid laying his feelings out, only for it to come crashing down in the end.

He’d probably tell you over a few drinks at a bar. He wouldn’t be drunk, but the relaxed setting and the slight alcoholic buzz would loosen him up a little. He would just come out and say it, and he’d seem pretty confident and chilled in saying it too. He adores you and wants you to know it.

When you say it back, Adachi would just grin widely, his face lighting up almost. He’s never been one for long-term relationships, they just never seemed to work out for him. It’s different with you though, and he can just picture himself growing old (older…) with you.

Saeko:

Saeko would say it first, and she would be very drunk. She would mean every word though. At first, you may brush it aside and think she’s just saying it in a drunken way, but the next morning she would bring it up again.

She’d start by telling you that you don’t have to say it back if you’re not feeling the same way yet, and would then tell you that she loves you, and that she meant it when she said it the previous night. She wouldn’t be particularly nervous telling you, but she’d secretly be hoping you’ll say it back, hoping that you’re both on the same page in the relationship.

She’d give you a tight hug once you say it back, a small smile on her face. She wouldn’t treat it as a huge deal, but is very happy that you feel the same way.

It would become a nightly ritual, telling each other that you love each other every night, before heading to bed. If you two don’t live together just yet, you would exchange ‘I love you’s’ by text every night instead.

Joon-Gi:

You would say it first.

This man is clueless. Though he’d be a bit more accustomed to dating after being with you for a while, he’s likely never had anyone tell him they love him romantically. He’d straight up just say ‘thank you’, and that would be that.

Well, until he tells Seonhee. She’d think the whole thing was rather sweet at first, until she asks how he responded, and he tells her that he just thanked you. She would just be staring at him with fire in her eyes, and would ask Joon-Gi if he feels the same way. He’d probably think first, before confirming that yes, he does love you. Seonhee would 100% scold him for not saying it back despite feeling the same way, and for essentially leaving you hanging. She would send him straight back out to go and fix his blunder.

Cue a rather flustered Joon-Gi turning up on your doorstep, blurting out a ‘I love you too’ as you open the door. He would apologise profusely for his error, to which you’d just brush it off casually, telling him he’s not obliged to say it back. He does mean it though, he really does love you, he’s just an oblivious fool at times.

Zhao:

Again, you’d be the one to say it first. You’d probably blurt it out without thinking, just a casual passing comment like ‘this is why I love you’, or ‘you’re lucky I love you’, if he’s being a little shit.

He is gonna smirk as soon as he hears you say it, his eyes glinting mischievously, and so begins the teasing. He wouldn’t tease you in a mean way, but he would have some fun with it, more so to save face, as he’d be a bit taken aback and flustered, but still pleased. It’s probably not something he’s been told often. He’d be like ‘what was that? You love me?’, nudging into your arm gently and calling you cute, as you get more and more flustered.

He wouldn’t tease you for too long, and would save you from becoming too embarrassed by telling you he loves you too. He’d say it so casually, as if he hasn’t just teased the fuck out of you for saying it a few moments earlier.

He’d say it pretty frequently going forward, not seeing it as a huge deal. He would just pop up randomly and say it, before going back to whatever it is he’s doing.

[morganadpl]

Another heir - Chapter 4

« Are you spying on me ? »

Draco Malfoy story

Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw

Warnings : Spoilers Harry Potter saga

—————————

Helena shifted her weight, feeling the cool night breeze against her skin. She turned to Draco, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "So, what's on your mind? What's keeping you up at night?"

Draco hesitated before replying, his voice quiet. "My father."

Helena nodded, understanding that he wouldn't say more. She decided to share a piece of her own story instead. "I lost my father two years ago. He was very sick. Ever since then, I've had a hard time sleeping, but walking around at night helps me clear my head."

Draco glanced at her, his expression hardening slightly. "I suppose you're happy my father's in prison. After all, he was at the Ministry at the end of last year."

Helena shook her head slowly. "I'm not happy, Draco. I understand that it's not easy for you. But I know that just because your father is where he is, it doesn't mean you're the same person. We are not carbon copies of our parents. You are your own person, Draco. I understand that you miss him, but you shouldn't let others—or yourself—define you by his actions."

Draco looked at her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He seemed to be processing her words, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "You really believe that?"

"Yes, I do," Helena said softly. "We all have our own paths to walk. You can choose to be different."

For a moment, the two stood in silence, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the wind. Helena could feel a shift in the air, a tentative bridge forming between them.

"Thanks," Draco finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll keep that in mind."

Helena smiled gently. "Anytime, Draco."

They stood together, gazing at the stars, finding a shared solace in the quiet of the night.

And so these late-night meetings became a ritual. Each evening, they found solace in the Astronomy Tower, gazing at the stars and engaging in quiet conversations. Draco remained distant in his responses, but he couldn't deny that he appreciated Helena for not judging him as the selfish, arrogant son of a Death Eater. He valued her presence, even if he couldn't fully express it.

Draco found himself questioning many things. Helena's acceptance and understanding were a stark contrast to the expectations placed upon him. Yet, he couldn't forget the mission he had been given. The internal battle of his emotions was intense, tearing him between loyalty to his family and the glimmer of a different path.

For Helena, these nightly talks were a rare opportunity to open up about her own struggles, especially about her father. Draco, in his own reserved way, understood her pain without showing pity, which made her feel less alone. His empathy was subtle, but it was there, and it meant the world to her.

As weeks went by, their connection grew stronger. They exchanged discreet smiles in the corridors and at the dining tables, a silent acknowledgment of their shared secret. Their friendship, if it could be called that, remained hidden from prying eyes. Helena appreciated these moments of vulnerability and camaraderie, and Draco found a small respite from his burdens.

Their bond was a delicate balance of unspoken understanding and mutual respect, blossoming quietly in the shadows of their nightly rendezvous.

One evening, Helena arrived at the Astronomy Tower earlier than usual. She needed a moment alone. The previous night, she had been haunted by a dream of her father, watching him take his last breath while her mother pleaded with him to fight and stay. Helena stood powerless at the foot of the bed, the scene replaying over and over in her mind. She had woken up with a start, disoriented and sorrowful. The day had seemed interminable.

Desperate to distract herself, Helena attempted to work on her astronomy homework, but she couldn't focus. She was trying to locate the Gemini constellation when she heard footsteps behind her. Draco had arrived.

He quietly sat down beside her, observing her for a moment before asking, "What are you reading?"

Helena sighed, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I'm trying to do this stupid assignment, but I just can't focus."

Draco took her assignment from her hands, glancing at it. "You're already looking at the best constellation."

Helena looked at him curiously. "Why do you say that?"

Draco smirked slightly. "Because it's my sign."

Helena laughed, the tension easing a bit. "Mine too."

Draco's smirk softened into a genuine smile. "Well, let's see if we can make some sense of it together." He started pointing out different constellations in the night sky, using the telescope and charts from the tower. He explained the positioning of the constellations in relation to one another, his voice calm and steady.

"Look, here's Gemini," Draco said, adjusting the telescope for her. "And if you move just a bit to the left, you can see Taurus."

Helena leaned in, following his directions. "Wow, I see it. That's incredible."

Draco nodded, then pointed towards another part of the sky. "And over there, that's Orion. It's one of the easiest to find because of the belt stars."

As they continued, Draco's knowledge and passion for astronomy became apparent. Helena found herself not just learning, but genuinely enjoying the process.

At the end of their impromptu lesson, Helena looked at Draco with newfound appreciation. "I didn't know you were so good at astronomy."

Draco shrugged modestly. "My mother taught me a lot when I was younger. It's always been something I enjoy."

Helena hesitated for a moment before asking, "Did your mother choose your name because of a constellation?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, she did. She always loved the stars and the stories behind them."

Helena's curiosity piqued. "Can you show me where it is?"

Draco smiled, pleased by her interest. "Of course." He adjusted the telescope and pointed it towards a specific part of the sky. "There it is, Draco. It's part of the constellation of the dragon, Draco."

Helena peered through the telescope, marveling at the sight. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "I can see why your mother chose it."

Draco nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "She always said it was a strong name, fitting for a Malfoy."

Helena looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "It suits you," she said softly. "You're strong, Draco. Even if you don't always feel it."

Draco looked back at her, his usual guarded expression softening. "Thank you, Helena. That means a lot."

Draco, sensing that they were on a night where the conversation could be deeper, asked, "Helena, why couldn't you concentrate earlier? You excel in all your subjects."

Helena looked at the sky before responding. "I had a nightmare about my father, about his last day. I've never told anyone the reasons for his illness. It's something that gives me a feeling of sadness and also of revenge."

"Revenge? Why?" Draco asked, genuinely curious.

Helena looked at him and, after a few moments, decided that Draco might be one of the few who could understand, even if what she was about to say might make him feel bad about his family. She took a deep breath and began to explain.

"During the first war against Voldemort, my parents were part of the Order of the Phoenix. One night, during a battle against two Death Eaters, one of them, Evan Rosier, cast a curse at my father that he couldn't dodge. It was an infection that grew slowly. At first, everything seemed fine, but no treatment was found. About three years ago, my father was admitted to the hospital. He stayed there for a year, but no cure was found. My nightmare was about the day the infection finally took over."

Draco listened intently, his expression serious. He could sense the weight of her words and the pain behind them. "I'm sorry, Helena," he said softly, genuinely feeling her pain.

Helena nodded, appreciating his sympathy. "It's been hard. I guess that's why I find comfort in the stars. They remind me of him, of the times we spent together before everything changed."

Draco looked up at the night sky, his thoughts conflicted. He understood the burden of legacy and the pain of losing a parent, even if their circumstances were different. "Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it can't be easy."

Helena gave a small, sad smile. "Thank you for listening. It's been a long time since I talked about it."

Draco and Helena said their goodbyes, sensing that their conversation had reached a natural pause. Helena knew she needed rest; tomorrow would be her first class with her ancestor.

Returning to the Ravenclaw Tower, she paused before the imposing door that led to the common room. The bronze eagle knocker seemed almost to watch her as she approached. It posed its riddle, and Helena, accustomed to the practice, quickly solved it, allowing her entry.

The Ravenclaw common room was a circular, airy space filled with the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. The walls were lined with tall, arched windows that offered a breathtaking view of the night sky and the surrounding grounds of Hogwarts. Bookshelves brimming with ancient tomes and modern texts alike stood against the walls, while cozy armchairs and elegant tables were scattered about, inviting students to study or converse.

In the center of the room stood a grand marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, her serene gaze and regal bearing inspiring wisdom and calm. Helena walked over to the statue and gazed up at it, feeling a familiar pang of longing and pride. Her father's words echoed in her mind: "You are the rightful heir of a proud family legacy. Your strength comes from your family and your convictions. Always fight for what you believe is right."

Helena took a deep breath, drawing strength from the statue's presence and her father's encouragement. The weight of her heritage felt lighter, more manageable. With a renewed sense of purpose, she turned away from the statue and made her way up the spiral staircase to the girls' dormitory.

Entering the dormitory, she found the room quiet and peaceful, her fellow Ravenclaws already asleep or quietly reading in their beds. She slipped into her own bed, pulling the curtains closed around her. The soft, familiar surroundings of her dormitory brought a sense of comfort, and she allowed herself to relax.

As she settled under the covers, her thoughts drifted back to her upcoming meeting with her ancestor. She knew it would be challenging, but she felt ready to face it. With a final glance at the night sky through the window, she closed her eyes and let sleep claim her, the words of her father lingering in her mind like a protective charm.

The next morning unfolded normally. Helena arrived at the breakfast hall with a smile, accompanied by her best friend Lena. She nodded to her friends from Gryffindor and offered a barely noticeable smile to a certain Slytherin.

At noon, as she was about to enter the Great Hall for lunch, Harry stopped her. "Can we talk outside, just the two of us?" he asked quietly.

Helena raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Sure, Harry. What's on your mind?"

Harry took her by the arm and led them both outside the main entrance, making sure that nobody was in sight. They sat down on a bench near the side of the Great Hall's walls. From there, they had a beautiful view of the mountains, the Black Lake, and, of course, the boathouse—the place where every first-year student first discovers the castle.

After they sat down, Helena turned to Harry, encouraging him to continue with his questions.

Harry glanced around before replying, "How's the start of the year been for you?"

Helena shrugged, trying to keep the conversation light. "Everything's fine. Classes are going well, and it's good to be back." Helena stopped, and looked at Harry who had a strange look on his face, so she continued "But I feel like there's something else you want to ask."

Harry hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I've seen you on the Marauder's Map a few times in the evenings, wandering around the castle. It got me a bit worried."

Helena's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. "Are you spying on me, Harry?"

[glorywrites]

Before the Abyss

Pairing: Marian Hawke x Fenris

Just a little one shot I wrote for a contest between friends last year. I found it again and realized I never posted it. Figured I’d share since I wanna start posting here more! We’ll see though.

_____________________

The sound of the even, measured, breaths beside her were hard to ignore. The rhythmic inhale and exhale somehow sweeter than any melody. Perhaps it was because it was rare for Fenris to be the first to fall asleep, and even rarer for him to look so at peace. It was a mesmerizing sight, something she was doing her very best to commit to memory.

Moonlight poured in from their inn room window, bathing him in an almost ethereal glow. His white hair shined, a messy halo that framed his narrow face and pointed ears. His usually furrowed, brooding visage was unusually relaxed, making him look more his age. With his armor removed, and only his lower half covered by the sheets of their shared bed, her eyes could follow many of the pale lyrium markings that covered every inch of his tanned skin. She had kissed the swirling pattern mere hours before, her lips tracing every inch of his scarred flesh. A part of her craved to do so again, but Hawke dared not move, not wanting to risk him stirring and pulling him from a rare sweet dream.

Though his magic markings often gave him pain, he claimed to find relief in her touch… and though it baffled her how it could be so, it made her happy to help in some way. How he had gotten them still haunted him, the pain creeping up when he dreamt. In this way, she slowly replaced it with new memories, sweeter touches, and kinder words. As blunt and straightforward as they both tended to be, it was a wonder at the tenderness exhibited in their almost nightly ritual. A rarity that they shared with only each other.

Her want, however, could not be considered completely altruistic. The wish to touch the handsome elven man before her was something instinctual, a primal urge whenever she looked at him. There was something about committing oneself to another that felt intoxicating, and each hour that passed by without participating was another that left the heart aching.

Though, to be clear, Hawke felt no ownership over Fenris. She would not touch him unless he allowed her to first. He had suffered enough lifetimes as someone else's pet, his body not being his own. She would never, could never, claim to own it like other wonton lovers often claim one another. He was hers, just as much as she was his… but their body and will would always be their own.

She was humbled by the trust he put in her... Honored that she could be his solstice… and perhaps, where it any other night, this notion would have lulled her into a contented slumber.

But not tonight.

Tonight she struggled, because it made what she had to do that much harder.

“It’s rather rude to stare.”

Though eyes still closed, the deep gravel in the voice was unmistakably his, the breath of his words accompanied by the sweet smell of the wine they had shared that evening.

So lost in thought, she had uncharacteristically missed the change in his breath, a telltale sign that signaled he was awake. Even so, she could not help but smile, unashamed of being caught in her trance. “Did I wake you?”

Fenris’ eyes fluttered open, mesmerizing green eyes meeting her pale blue. His lips pulled into a smile that caught her breath, giving her the kind of sultry look that only good wine seemed capable of setting free from him. “And here I thought I was still dreaming.”

Hawke wasn’t the type to blush from pretty words, and it was clear that her beloved was feeling the effects of the alcohol in his system. However, even tispy, Fenris did not say things he did not mean… and so her heart leapt in response to his sweet nothings. Even more so as one of his hands moved from her waist to her face, his thumb rubbing against her cheek.

“Shall we test it?” she smiled back, mischievous in nature, before leaning in to kiss him, her body melting into his as it often did when he touched her.

The kiss was rough, but tender, a paradox that reflected their personalities. After a moment, he pulled back, regarding her through lidded eyes. Even still affected by sleep, and half intoxicated, he looked at her in a way that felt like he could see through her. She shivered in response.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You.”

It wasn’t a lie… not completely.

The truth was more complicated, more polarizing. It was one that she had been unable to tell him the moment she’d hid away the letter she had received from Varric a few days before, the contents asking for her help.

There was a sense of foreboding that came with it, a realization that was hard to bear. A part of her, somehow, knew what would come of such an undertaking, knew what risks came from pursuing what her dear old friend had explained in his hurried letter.

She also knew the choice that she was taking from Fenris by not showing him, knew the trust that she was breaking by not telling him. She had thought of doing it, if only because it was the right thing to do. He had followed her through more troubles than she could count, had stood by her against his own beliefs, and she knew she owned him that much.

Yet old words spoken to her had come back, ones she had nearly forgotten.

"We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment... and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly. You have my thanks... and my sympathy."

For such a message to come back to her, she knew what it meant. The danger that was coming toward her.

“I’ve caused you so much trouble, I’m surprised I haven’t scared you off yet,” she masked her words in tired jest, a light and airy facade a little too easy to pull off. If he caught on, he didn’t show it, and she knew that if he was sober he would have noticed the undertext hidden in her words. Even so, not wanting her expression to give it away, she pulled close and burned her face into his chest.

“So much… but I would follow you into the fade itself,” he half mumbled drowsily, amused in tone, into her hair, his arms encircling her.

That was the problem wasn’t it?

It took everything in her to hold back the sting that prickled at her eyes, tears threatening to spill out but she couldn’t allow it. The moment they did, he would know, and she could not let her resolution be broken. Fenris would rather die than let her put herself into harm's way, but Hawke would rather die than allow that to happen.

Marian Hawke was not afraid of death. However, she refused to watch anyone else she loved die in front of her. Her parents… Carver… She would not let Fenris be added to that list. Even if the choice to do so was purely his own.

“I love you,” she whispered, wondering if he would think her cruel in the morning for saying it.

When he woke up, she would not be there.

Even though he had not been so cruel when he had left her their first night together, she knew him too well to offer the same courtesy. Any conversation would end with him coming anyway. In this way, he would try to look for her, but she knew better than to make it easy on him. By the time he realized where she had gone, her business with Varric and his Inquisitor would be done.

If she survived he could chastise her then. She would happily face his ire.

If she didn’t…

Well, at least he’d be alive.

But for a few more hours she focused on the present, listening to his breath slow as he fell back to sleep, and committing to memory the feeling of being in his arms.

Whatever tomorrow may bring, she would ignore for now.

The abyss could wait.

[mypsychoticmoodboard]

July 22, 2024:

I think that there is something to be said about the unique bond that we as humans share with other humans. It is the unique, defining characteristic of the human experience. To love, to hate, to mourn, and everything in between. And amongst those relationships, I have found the most interesting to be the ones shared between immediate family: father & daughter, mother & son; siblings. And this takes me to when I remember when my mother-in-law lay dying in hospice, and my husband, her only son, said to her, “I am going to find the one piece.” And that sentence will enchant and haunt me for the rest of my life. It brings me to happy yet bitter tears almost every time I think about it.

From what he has shared with me, he talks about how it was his mother who introduced him to anime. Since he was such a high strung child, his mom found it difficult to settle him down to sleep, so she would often make them both peanut butter and jellies (skippys as we call them in our house), and they would sit there long into the night watching the Toonami lineup which included the anime show, One Piece. My husband likes to mention that they would eat doritos with the skippys as well. His mother would go on to tell me such stories when my husband was not around, or they would often mention it to each other when we went to visit his parents as we visited her in her bed. It is known to me now how this nightly ritual had become their favorite pastime together and their fondest memory.

My husband tells me that one of the things he wants to see in his lifetime is the One Piece series completed, so that he may fulfill that promise of ‘finding the one piece’ that he promised to his mom as she was on the precipice of the end. I find this so heart wrenching because everyone has a story with someone such as this with someone in their life. For me, I am reminded of the smell of pancakes and bacon that my dad would make every Sunday when we were a kid. That is why for so long, Sundays were my favorite day of the week.

And with all of this to say, my husband and his mom did not have a very good relationship further into his teen years. They were estranged for a time. And yet, he clings to those memories and relishes in them. He does not harp on her shortcomings like so many of us, me included, do to other people. He has accepted them at face value and realized that she is only a person, and then chooses to remember the good times that were spent instead of the tumultuous times that came later in life. And I know that it is a fine line to walk, because some actions are hard to come back from, and no amount of blissful compartmentalism can help, but in his case, I think it is an incredible thing, and I idolize him for that notion, and I hope to embody that one day.

I know that I seem to talk about death a lot, but it is something that I have been surrounded by all of my life. It has been a hard truth that I have been faced with time and time again, and I find that reflecting upon it really helps me come to terms with it. I also find that if there is something to learn from a person’s life, I try to do so, to take it in, as many things are learning lessons if you let them be.

In unrelated news, I have a job interview tomorrow, and I am trying not to be worried sick about it. I am nervous because I care, and that is something that I will really never be able to shake. But I can try to calm myself as much as possible. I have a job already, albeit one that I hate, so if I do not get this job, there is nothing that I am really losing out on? But to me, it will feel like there is. I would be missing out on something that I really wanted, and I truthfully, am a pretty sore loser. I often revert to feelings of personal inadequacy if I am not selected for such things. I am nervous because I care.

And I often take the stance that everything feels like the end of the world to me. And then I rebuild again. I am fairly melodramatic, and I own it. But I am as persistent as I am melodramatic.

I also overthink things to death. I just need to let it be. It’s my anticipatory anxiety—I swear to God.

But all I can do is what I have always done—take it in stride.

(Reader, please wish me luck; I really want this job!)

In addition, it feels like I am on the precipice of this cliff. I see a castle in the distance, but I have to figure out how to cross this canyon first to get there. I have a home, but I am wanting something more.

[justradical]

Jack be nimble nursery rhyme

You can choose both or the one that suits you the best. There are two versions of this printable pack, one in colour and one in black and white. Handwriting practice of words used in the nursery rhyme.Follow the Directions (Ordinal Numbers).Included in this printable pack are many math activities such as: This 80+ page printable pack helps enhance learning while reading the nursery rhyme, Jack be Nimble. Mostly practiced in the markets or fairs, it was believed that it was a good-luck sign if you were able to successfully clear the candle and not damp down the flame. Jumping over candlestick was a traditional activity in England. This pirate lived in the late 16th century and was very good at escaping from the authorities. This entry was posted in Children, Rhymes, Song, Verbal Lore on Maby f00314m.The origin of Jack Be Nimble is more than likely related to the famous English pirate Black Jack. This is considered a tradition because it was passed from mother to daughter and brother. Also, as she grew older and didn’t need a story before bed she grew out of this tradition and forgot about it until I asked about her childhood nightly rituals. I think that this since this was part of her nightly traditions it was hard for her to let go. She kept saying how she loved this nursery rhyme and how it brought great memories to her. Molly seemed to get happy when sharing this story. “Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, jack jump over the candle stick” She hopes to bring this nursery rhyme and the tradition of jumping over the candle to her family in the future. This nursery rhyme made Mollie think of her home and the traditions that she used to be a part of as a child and that have stopped over the years. Baa, Baa, Black Sheep Four and twenty tailors went to ki. Well go a-shooting There was an old woman, as Ive he. Who Stole the Birds Nest Pease-pudding hot Simple Simon Rain, Rain, go to Spain Little Tommy Tucker A diller, a dollar, a ten oclock. All in all, Mollie’s nursery rhyme, Jack be Nimble, reminded her of her childhood and the relationship between her mom and her brothers. Some more entertaining nursery rhymes from our collection.When Mollie grew up it was her turn to teach this action to her younger brother and when he grows up it is his duty to tell this nursery rhyme to his younger cousins. Instead of just singing it to her, her mom would set up a candle and Mollie would jump over the candle and into bed Mollie jumped over the candle stick multiple time before going to bed and the final jump would land her in bed and her mom would tuck her into sleep. Every week or so her mom would read her this nursery rhyme before bed. She “loves sharing this tradition with other people because it gives joy to bring people into her life.” When Mollie performs this nursery rhyme it is not just sung, but it is acted out. Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over The candlestick. Absolute-Study ApNursery Rhymes No Comments. When Mollie was telling me this story she became happy and sad at the same time. Nursery Rhyme Jack Be Nimble Poem lyrics, Best Poem for Students, Rhyme for Kids of Nursery Classes. Her parents taught her the nursery rhyme Jack be Nimble. It was passed down from generation to generation. For her, this nursery rhyme was a tradition. When Mollie was recalling her story, she started to think of home and all the great traditions that she did as a child.She is interested in majoring in engineering and physics. She currently attends Dartmouth College and is in the class of 2020. She likes the stay active and get involved with art. She has played soccer her entire life and has been actively involved in other sports teams like basketball. She has one older brother and one younger brother and lives with her parents. She attended a large public school that was a part of the Detroit public school program. Mollie McGorisk was born on Main Detroit Michigan.

[hissterical-nyaan]

The Promise

Pairing - Bucky Barnes/Desi! Female reader

Warning - Angst, sad ending, more angst

Summary - Bucky Barnes broke one promise that meant the most to Y/N

Word count - 1.5K

A/N - This is my first ever fanfic, I am very anxious so please be gentle with me :) This was created purely to make y'all cry lol. This is a songfic of "Lag ja gale" of Lata Mangeshkar ji. I absolutely adore that song and found it quite fit for this story!!! Also English isn't my first language and there might be grammatical mistakes. Thanks to @soradragon for beta reading this and helping me complete it, you are a blessing. Love you 💙 happy reading folks!

It was  peaceful in Wakanda, a cool night had taken its place from the hot humid air of the day, the stars were shining bright and serenity hung in the air.  It was impossible to imagine what the next day would have in store for everyone. No one had a clue that tomorrow was the day that would change everyone's lives forever.

There was the sound of soft humming coming from the modest hut which housed the one and only the White Wolf and his lover.

Inside was you, singing songs softly in your mother’s tongue before the two would go to bed for the night. It was a nightly ritual the two of you shared. For Bucky had found your voice so soothing it would chase away the recurring nightmares that would haunt his sleep every night. Bucky Barnes was unable to sleep without his love in his arms, without her angelic voice singing for him, and without her soft hand weaving through his hair. 

You had an awful day today, throughout the day you felt anxious and restless. As if your mind has been screaming at you that something bad was about to transpire. You had no idea what, but it was bad. if there is one thing you hated most, it would be not knowing what will happen next.

You liked being prepared for everything! Your distressed state made you itch for your ma's presence and her wise words. So the next best thing to feel like she was there was to sing your ma's favourite song. It was a song you had  beautiful emotional memories attached to.

Lata ji's masterpiece ‘Lag ja gale’. The song that always left you peaceful.

"What's on your mind, chaand? No cheesy love songs today?" Bucky teased lightly, slightly puzzled by the song choice. Normally, you would sing more happy, sweet love songs when you were in a good mood, not to forget how out of character you acted the entire day. 

"Acha? You said you don't like my cheesy songs na, so I thought today I will comply with your wish and not sing my ‘overly romantic, Shona Babu songs.’”  You shot back, poking your tongue out as not to worry him. Bucky pouted slightly.

"Arre baba okay now don't pout, I was just joking. I will sing the cheesy songs again tomorrow, right now this song just feels right to me.” Hearing that, Bucky mumbled a quiet yes and snuggled deeper into you, holding you tightly and moving his head ever so slightly to listen to your voice.  

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hasin Raat Ho Na Ho

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Jaa Gale Ae Ae… (Embrace me, dear, who knows whether or not this beautiful night will ever come again. Maybe in this life we may or may not meet again)

You remember the first time you met Bucky, in Shuri's lab. You were a   good friend of Shuri. You were a researcher staying in Wakanda with T'challa's permission and eventually befriended the Princess. The two of you loved to talk about anything and nothing. One day Shuri told you about the Winter soldier staying here in Wakanda. You had heard many things about him, but never had you seen him in the flesh. Till you saw him come into the lab, bruised and eyes swiming full of emotions, but the distraught was the most clear in those blue piercing eyes.

It was at that moment that you had decided you would help him, and try to soothe the aches and scars that had been covering his fragile heart. He was put in the cryo soon after your first encounter, but you couldn't help but think about him often.

Ham Ko Mili Hain Aaj Ye, Ghadiyaan Nasib Se

Ji Bhar Ke Dekh Lijiye, Ham Ko Qarib Se

Phir Aap Ke Nasib Men, Ye Baat Ho Na Ho (I have been given today, this time by destiny. To your hearts content see me closely, who knows, if your destiny, may present this situation again.)

Six months later, Bucky came out of the cryo and on his request, was given a small hut away from the palace in the fields. You often saw him, with his tiny herd of goats. You remember how one tiny goat - which Bucky had endearingly called Steve -  was the one who caused you to talk to Bucky. Maybe that's why he was still your favourite goat, afterall he was responsible for giving you the love of your life.

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hasin Raat Ho Na Ho (Maybe, in this life, we may or may not meet again. Embrace me dear for this beautiful night may not come again)

Your phone rang suddenly. Bucky moved his head from your lap as you moved to get the phone, it was your brother who was calling you. It puzzled you, it was nearly midnight in India. "Y/N….jaldi aaja yaha… ma aur papa ki car crash ho gayi...I am so sorry, hum unhe bacha nahi paye." You went numb...The words didn’t make sense, you couldn’t make sense of them... Ma papa? No, no this can't be happening. You...you just talked to your mom a few hours ago! Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, holding you so close. He whispered some words into your ear trying to soothe you. But you couldn’t hear them, your mind just kept repeating your brother’s words inside your head like a mantra. That’s when the tears fell, soaking Bucky’s shirt. You didn’t remember you screamed. 

Paas Aaiye Ki Ham Nahin Aaenge Baar-Baar

Baahen Gale Men Daal Ke Ham Ro Le Zaar-Zaar

Aankhon Se Phir Ye Pyaar Ki Barsaat Ho Na Ho (Come closer to me, as I will not be able to come to you every time. Put your arms around me and let us cry our hearts out. Who knows, if our eyes will ever see these tears of love again.)

You couldn’t imagine what you would be without Bucky, your Bucky. He was your rock, You couldn't live a day without him. From the day you confessed your love for each other till today, not a day has gone where he wasn't showering you with love. Even through all his trauma and pain, he did his absolute best to be there for you, his sweet, sweet Y/N.

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hassin Raat Ho Na Ho

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hassin Raat Ho Na Ho (Maybe, in this life, we may or may not meet again. Embrace me dear for this beautiful night may not come again)

Remembering the past left you in an emotional mess, you didn't even realise when the waterworks started.

"Chaand? Hey, no shhh why are you crying? Is everything okay? Talk to me."

"Bucky?"

"Haan chaand?"

"Promise me that you will never leave me." You uttered in a broken whisper

"I promise."

He broke that promise. Bucky Barnes broke his promise and left his chaand. It happened so fast, the Avengers fighting Thanos, and suddenly everyone turning into dust.

You felt helpless and scared, numb and cold. what was happening? Bucky had told you to not come out of the palace unless told. He didn't want you to be in harm's way. No, his Y/N was too precious, he can't risk it. You reluctantly agreed, but you weren't of much use on the battlefield anyway. You just hoped your love would return to you very soon.

Steve broke the news, and your whole world collapsed in front of your eyes.

"Steve, no..no it can't be... please tell me you are lying. This isn't the time to joke around! Where is he!?" you couldn't help but scream at him. All your dreams, hopes and future with Bucky shattered. He was gone, in just a snap.  It couldn’t be real, this was a sick joke. that had to be it. A sick joke…

But deep inside, you knew it was real. All of it was real. The world around you seemed to crumble, all of it came down, it was as if someone let a glass cup fall and it shattered in a million pieces. Unable to be put back together again…

Now you had no one, no mom and dad, no Bucky...He was your rock wasn't he? He wasn't supposed to go...

After a few days, Steve offered to take you to America with him. The least he could do for his pal was to make sure the girl who had his heart was taken care of. But you couldn't go, it was too painful. Brooklyn will always remind you of Bucky, and you promised him when the time came to go back to his home, you will go together. No, unlike him Y/N L/N knew how to keep her promise.

You went back to India, to start a new life. A miserable one. If only you would have known that the last song you’ve sung to him would come true. 

You never sang your mother's favourite song again

Tagging - @spiderrpcrker @a-dragon-under-the-stars @lil-stark @jacquessouvenier @soradragon (I hope you won't mind me tagging you!) And I also hope you liked it :))

Translations (please let me know if I forgot to translate something) -

Chaand - Moon (an affectionate term in this context)

Acha - Really (in this context, it can mean many things otherwise)

"Y/N….jaldi aaja yaha… ma aur papa ki car crash ho gayi...I am so sorry, hum unhe bacha nahi paye." - "Y/N please come fast here, mom and dad were in an car crash, I am so sorry but we couldn't save them" (ma = mom, papa = dad)

Haan - yes

[couvers]

i keep rereading all the dialogue prompt fics you’ve posted and i need.. more .... pls🥺

maybe number 6 for percabeth if you’re up for it?❤️

6.  “Do you want to get out of here?”

It was getting late. Estelle had already been put to bed – read two stories each by Percy and Annabeth – and, after that little hellion had fallen asleep, Sally had suggested they watch a movie. The movie had been watched and enjoyed. Paul, having school to think of in the morning, had said his goodnights as soon as the credits started rolling. With class also ahead of them first thing in the morning, Percy had figured that was a good time for him and Annabeth to think about heading home themselves. His mother, however, had refilled mugs of tea and settled in to chat a little longer.

That had been an hour ago. Now, Sally was doing a little late night tidying up. Percy figured it was time for him and Annabeth to think about heading home, since they also had class to think about first thing in the morning, but it seemed like Annabeth had other plans. She had curled up against Percy’s side on the couch and showed no signs she intended to move any time soon. If Percy was a betting man, he would’ve said she was a good ten seconds away from beginning to snore.

(Annabeth denied, adamantly, that she snored, but Percy had witnessed it himself on countless occasions and knew the truth.)

Even though he didn’t want to disturb Annabeth when she seemed so at peace, and when they were so close to his mother being able to back him up about her snoring, Percy decided to five her a gentle nudge. “Hey, Beth? It’s getting late. Do you want to get out of here?”

“No,” Annabeth replied, only stirring enough to nuzzle a little closer to him. “Let’s stay a little bit longer.”

“You’re just going to fall asleep,” he argued, though it was hard to fight her when she was acting so cute about it. “It’s only going to be harder to leave if we wait.”

“But I like it here,” she said, practically whining. If she got any cuter, Percy was going to be entirely useless at denying her whatever she wanted.

He attempted to have a semblance of a backbone though, gently rubbing her arm in an attempt at coaxing her further awake. “You’ll like it better at home in your own bed.”

Unconvinced, she shook her head. “I like it here.”

“Why?” Percy asked, all curiosity and no annoyance. He had to admit, he enjoyed hearing that she liked being at his parents’ place. It made him feel good about the fact they’d made standing plans to spend every other Sunday afternoon there, plans that would cut into his and Annabeth’s already limited alone time. Apparently she didn’t mind sharing.

“It feels like you here,” Annabeth explained, the words slow, quiet and lazy, evidence of how tired she’d become. “Being here makes me happy. Must’ve been a nice place to grow up.”

Percy hadn’t really grown up in that apartment. He’d moved there in high school, after his mom and Paul had gotten engaged. In reality, Percy had grown up in a series of apartments, many of which had been little more than closets, and falling apart on top of that. He still understood what Annabeth meant. Even though he hadn’t lived in particularly nice apartments, they had still been pretty great places to grow up, in the grand scheme of things, if only because his mom had been there, making the best of their circumstances.

“It wasn’t too bad,” Percy agreed, turning his head to get a better look at the woman beside him now. “It’s still a pretty nice place to be, too, you’re right.”

“Let’s stay like ten more minutes,” Annabeth suggested, shifting slightly against him to get more comfortable.

Sally appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the wall and observing them with a tiny smile. It never failed to make Percy’s heart break into a sprint when his mom looked at Annabeth that way – like Annabeth had always been hers to shower with love, and she intended to make up for all the years she hadn’t been able to do it as quickly as possible. Annabeth looked at Sally in much the same way, if not with a few more, very understandable, reservations. All of it confirmed what Percy himself had felt from the very beginning of his relationship with Annabeth – they were meant for this, to be together, to share their lives and their families, and build a future of their own one little block at a time.

“Why don’t I just make up the couch for you two so you can spend the night?” Sally offered, that fond smile on her lips only growing. “It’s late and you both look like you’d be better off just getting to sleep now.”

Annabeth lifted her head, blinking sleepily at Percy. “Can we?”

So rarely did Annabeth defer to Percy’s judgment with such entirety, Percy almost didn’t know what to do with himself. It did make sense, though. This was his family, so it was his choice, not that he had much of one when his mother was so clearly happy to have them and the woman he loved so completely content to be there.

“Yeah, it sounds like a good idea,” Percy agreed, reaching over to tuck a rogue ringlet behind Annabeth’s ear. Her sleepy, responding smile only made him that much more confident in his decision.

They managed to get themselves up just long enough to clean up a little in the bathroom. Percy had his own toothbrush at his parents’ place, but that night Annabeth got one of her own, too. When they returned to the living room, Sally had finished dressing the couch with blankets and pillows. It didn’t pull out, but Percy had no doubts they would be comfortable enough. He and Annabeth were disgustingly cuddly sleepers, anyway.

Both Percy and Annabeth were given hugs and forehead kisses goodnight before Sally finally turned in. Percy didn’t miss the way Annabeth’s cheeks flooded with pink when she got hers. If he hadn’t valued his life so much, he might have grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of her that way. Since he wished to live past the night, he had to settle for the mental image.

It didn’t take them long to get settled on the couch after that. Annabeth’s body, half on top of him and half wedged between him and the couch, was a comfortable and welcome weight. His fingers instinctively found their way into her hair, twirling strands around them in what had become a soothing nightly habit. Percy didn’t think he’d ever loved anything quite the way he loved falling asleep each night with Annabeth.

“Thanks for letting us stay,” Annabeth mumbled into the stillness of the night.

Staying would mean an even more rushed than usual Monday morning, but Percy thought it was worth it. “I’m just glad you like here so much.”

“I really do,” she confirmed, the reverence in her voice making it sound a little like a confession.

“I like being here with you, too,” he told her, thinking it just as much as a confession. Percy always liked being with his family, of course, but being there with her was a different kind of special. It made him feel complete.

She hummed softly, tilting her head to press a kiss against his jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoed.

Percy wasn’t sure exactly when that had become their nightly ritual, saying I love you instead of a standard goodnight, but it was always one of his favorite parts of the day. If the world ended while they slept, he would have no regrets about those being his last words. He never failed to sleep a little more soundly having said them.

Dialogue Prompts!

[yellowocaballero]

Desolation Destroyed My P****: Web!Jon, Gertrude/Agnes Repressed Homoeroticism, and Gerry faking his own death

Another installment in the slowly complicating Web!Jon AU based off The Convention on Chronographer Lane/The Monster at the End of This Book. You don’t need to know anything about the other two installments, the main story, or the actual Web!Jon story that will get WRITTEN once I’m done with Space Cadet. Full story under the cut. GERTRUDE POV BABY LET’S GO DON’T BE A COWARD AND EMBRACE THE GERIATRIC LESBIANS. 

CW for body horror

2002

People did not call Gertrude for favors. 

Somehow most of the community had fallen under the impression that it was a bad idea to owe a favor to Gertrude Robinson, because she always came to collect. Gertrude had worked hard to enforce this. Most of those in her...field knew better than to ask an enemy for favors, and Gertrude made a habit of collecting enemies. She was not in the habit of collecting friends. 

Allies, maybe. She could count her allies on one aging hand and have fingers left over. Unfortunately, Agnes Montague was one of them. 

Also unfortunately, Agnes disliked and distrusted the Institute so severely she only ever called when she knew Gertrude would be in her own home - so, at one am, on a Saturday. The shrill blaring of Gertrude’s almost unused home phone startled her from her nightly reading, and she was forced to bookmark her place before picking up the phone. 

She never spoke first on the phone, and old precaution, but Agnes knew that. “Don’t worry. I’m only calling for business reasons. I need another favor.”

Gertrude’s lips thinned. “Agnes. It’s been a while.”

Six months and a week, not that Gertrude was counting. The last time Agnes had called her up asking for a favor was the first time they had ever spoken: a request for help escaping her cult. It had been a long, messy business. The burn scar had only just healed. 

They had a moment of sentimentality, then. A moment of sentimentality that had begun so many years ago as their lives were tied together in that forest, and stretched forward in time and space to culminate in a single mistake. It was a mistake Gertrude was afraid she was still making now. 

“I would have called, but it was still dangerous,” Agnes said cheerfully. She had been a morose and sulky woman, when Gertrude first met her. She had brightened considerably since they had won her freedom: like the turn of winter into spring. “It’s settled down quite a bit, which is why I need the favor.”

“You still haven’t paid me back for last time,” Gertrude said mildly. 

But Agnes just laughed, warm and soft, despite the cold welcome. “I feel like we both got something out of that arrangement, don’t you?”

They did. Gertrude wasn’t sure which arrangement Agnes was referring to. “Fine. What is it you need? Within reason, Agnes. I’m not sure I have another great escape in me.”

“I need three false identities,” Agnes said, shocking Gertrude deeply. People only tended to call Gertrude when they need something murdered or blown up. Not that she minded. “You know everybody, and I’ve been a bit cloistered these past few years. I have a source who knows some people, but the person that we’ve been avoiding also knows those resources, so they’re right out.”

“Running an underground railroad, are we, Agnes?” Gertrude asked archly. 

Agnes laughed again, and despite herself the sound still rang something buried and cold in Gertrude’s heart. “I figured I’d try my hand at the good guy thing. What can I say, Gertrude? You were a good influence on me.”

“Don’t mock me.” But Gertrude sighed anyway, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll get you in touch with who I use. If you give me your email I can connect you.”

“...what’s -”

“Never mind. I’ll pass your phone number along. Goodnight, Agnes.”

But the line crackled and fuzzed, and Agnes didn’t hang up. Neither did Gertrude. When Agnes spoke again it was soft - not hesitant, Agnes was never hesitant, but gentle. Agnes, Gertrude had found, could be more gentle than anybody else. “We never visited that lake.”

“Those are just dreams, Agnes,” Gertrude said - harshly, maybe unkindly. She didn’t know how to be anything else. 

“Not to me. I - no, John, don’t eat that, you don’t know where it’s been!” Agnes sighed, sending a crackle of static over the line and catching Gertrude’s attention severely. “I have to go. Goodbye, Gertrude. Thank you for your help. Call me sometimes, will you? For personal reasons. I gave you my number for a reason.”

Gertrude hung up on her, deciding not to dignify any of that with a response. She hardly had the time to make - personal phone calls. 

 What foolishness. Agnes had infected her with such foolishness. 

Gertrude went back to her book, mind working furiously, trying to remember if she had ever read of a ‘John’. 

*****

Unfortunately, ‘John’ was about as common a name as they came. 

Gertrude herself scarcely had any time to follow-up. Judging from Agnes’ words and tone, John was a child of some sort - had Agnes kidnapped somebody else’s child? Her child? (Gertrude had a very ridiculous thought for a moment before dismissing it, before grudgingly accepting that Agnes was made out of wax and that nothing was technically impossible). She gave Agnes her guy’s phone number and wished she could wash her hands of the matter. What Agnes did from now on would hopefully be none of her business. 

Gertrude wished she could delude herself into believing that. 

But Gertrude’s work was picking up, the rituals coming in faster and faster, and she found herself running about much more than she should at her age. Emma was invaluable, Fiona worked hard in research, and Michael was...sweet, but she trusted them with little information and trusted them less to watch her back. She couldn’t dedicate the amount of time she wanted to a hunch.

To make matters worse, Mary Keay had seemed to misplace her child. She was torn up about it, in her...own way. Gertrude wasn’t concerned. The boy was seventeen. He’d be back in three months with another two piercings, a Grateful Dead shirt, and no money. Goodness knows Gertrude had done it enough at his age. Did kids still trail along at Grateful Dead concerts? What was Gerry always listening to these days, Green Day? Green Day concert. 

As such, it was two weeks before Gertrude even had time to follow up with her contact. It only took minimal application of her blackmail before he spilled what Agnes had him make, and the full details therein. Most importantly, her new listed address. That, at least, ought to be real. 

As Gertrude rode the Underground to the humble London neighborhood where Agnes had apparently escaped her followers, sneering at young men who tried to give her their seats, she flipped through the paperwork. Agnes Montague, twenty seven - my, wasn’t she vain - born in London, England. All of her details seemed fairly legitimate. New NIN, credit score, false history, the usual. So it wasn’t her she was trying to hide. 

The second file was more interesting. There was her mystery John. Jonathan, apparently. Jonathan Montague. 

Gertrude’s eyebrows crawled up. What was her game?

The announcement of her stop echoed smoothly through the train, and she quickly folded up the papers and stuffed them back in her purse. It was a short walk from the station to the flat complex where Agnes was now staying, and she found herself ridiculously wondering what Agnes would look like. 

Would her hair be the same color, the color of licks of fire straining into the night sky? Her eyes the same forest green, a rainforest any woman could drown in? Her skin rosy and soft, with full appearance of youth and longevity, never to age or decay? Gertrude was only barely sixty, but she was feeling her age with every year. Her living had been hard, and it was finally catching up with her.

What else would catch up with her, once she knocked on Agnes Montague’s door?

Apartment number 426,  1446 Frederick Street. The strange thing about it was the welcome mat set outside the door. There was a little smiley face. It was so incongruous with Agnes, yet so oddly fitting, that Gertrude found herself smiling. 

She knocked once, twice. Her lockpicks were up her sleeve. Hopefully Agnes wasn’t home and she could snoop, but - 

The door opened to reveal Gerard Keay, looking down at a loose crumple of bills in his hand. He was so busy counting them out that he didn’t see who was standing at his doorstep.

“Thanks, mate, we -” Gerard finally looked up, and his face whitened. “You aren’t pizza.”

“So I’ve been told,” Gertrude said dryly. “Are you going to let me in?”

He let her in. 

******

So that was where Gerard had gotten to. 

Agnes, who had been pulling soda out of the fridge in their small kitchenette, was much happier to see her than Gerard was. It was the first time anybody had been happy to see Gertrude suddenly turning up at their doorstep in a very long time, and it made Gertrude almost uncomfortable. 

“I’m here for business reasons,” Gertrude felt the need to tell her, as she glared Gerard into sulking miserably on the couch. He had dyed his beautiful hair some nasty black color, which was either for disguise purposes or for...what was the word...goth? Goth purposes? Gertrude was very thankful she did not have children. 

But Agnes just smiled at her, as if she saw straight through. Which was ridiculous. There was nothing to see straight through. “It would be pretty strange if you stalked me until you found my address and showed up at my home in the middle of the day holding lockpicks for business reasons, Gertrude!”

“It’s for personal reasons.”

“There we go. I would offer you some pizza, but it seems that it’s not here yet.”

“So it seems.” Gertrude turned her eyes on Gerard, who wilted. “I hope this is a valuable lesson in checking to see who is at the door before you answer it, young man.”

Gerard mumbled something. 

“I know for a fact your mother did not raise you to be this careless.”

“My mother barely raised me at all,” Gerard grumbled. 

“Fine. Then I did not teach you to be that careless.” That got an actual flinch out of him, and Gertrude sighed. “What is going on here, you two?”

“It’s a very long story,” Agnes said. 

“Containing very many events I am under pain of death not to tell you about,” Gerard added. “Are you going to tell Mum I’m here?”

Gertrude sighed. 

The flat was small, clearly newly rented. They had very little furniture, and what they did have was clearly liberated from charity shops and kerbs. Their living room held a battered television, one of those gaming consoles Gerard liked so much, a scuffed and thoroughly singed coffee table to match an equally singed couch, and a pair of overstuffed bookshelves. A cutaway wall revealed a small kitchen, with a nook that held a rickety kitchen table.  None of it seemed particularly out of the ordinary for two young people, strongly resembling Gertrude’s own first flat. 

She cautiously sniffed the air. No smell of candles. Hm. 

She was just about to push the matter of how exactly the Messiah of the Eternal Flame and a bookseller’s son met and became flatmates when a crash and a thump echoed from the hallway. Gerard jumped off the couch, and Agnes bit her lip. Another rattle echoed from the hallway, and something deep in Gertrude’s mind recognized the sounds as those of a caged animal. 

“What is that,” Gertrude said flatly. 

“I’ll check on him,” Gerard said quickly, fleeing into the hallway. He knocked on one of the doors - Gertrude noticed that there were two on each side, three bedrooms and a bathroom - and said something quietly against the door, before cracking the door open a few inches. Gertrude couldn’t see what was inside, and she couldn’t maneuver herself closer without alerting Agnes. 

There was another crash, and Gerard slammed the door shut quickly. He grinned broadly yet anxiously at Gertrude, tittering a laugh. “It’s nothing! Nothing to see here. Would you like a cuppa, Gertrude!”

“Hm,” Gertrude said. 

They gave her a cuppa. She sat on the couch, Agnes and Gerard anxiously standing in front of her wringing their hands, and pretended to sip the cuppa. 

“Promise there’s no human flesh in it,” Gerard said. Gertrude arched an eyebrow at him until he sighed, took it, took a small and exaggerated sip, and then passed it back. 

It was only then that Gertrude tried some. She couldn’t help but smile. Agnes’ tea was always perfect. 

“Can one of you tell me why, according to the government, you are now legally siblings?” Gertrude asked archly. She put one hand down on the cracks between the sofa cushions beside her, pretending it was for balance. “Without lying, please.”

Agnes shrugged helplessly. “Gerard didn’t want to live with his mother anymore and I wasn’t doing anything important.”

“We thought about faking a corpse but was afraid that would just excite her,” Gerard said, depressed. “Hopefully when I don’t turn up she’ll just assume I was eaten by a book.” He affected a faux-nasally tone that did, admittedly, sound a lot like Mary. “ ‘If he’s too incompetent to survive he’s no good to me as a son. Good riddance to bad rubbish, his whole line’.”

“Gerry won’t let me immolate her,” Agnes said seriously. 

“She’s my mum, Agnes!”

“Immolating parental figures is very therapeutic.” Agnes patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “When I set everybody who ever loved me on fire, I felt great about it.”

“It seemed very cathartic,” Gertrude said dryly. She dug her fingers deeper into the crack between the cushions until something soft and thread-like rubbed between her fingers. Bingo. “Why the false identities? Why not simply let Gerard live with you until he turned 18?”

“We want him declared dead,” Agnes said simply. “And we want him to have an actual identity for when that happens. This is the best way to keep him away from his mum. Besides, Gerard Montague has his A Levels and a diploma for uni. ” She shrugged. “And hopefully he’ll be staying with me for quite a bit longer than a year.”

Interesting. They really did know each other. Maybe they were even really friends - although Gertrude was forced to wonder what a woman in her sixties and a teenager had in common. Gerard had mentioned wanting to go to university, but they had all known it was a pipe dream. Dreams like that often were. Gertrude neatly withdrew her hand from the cushion, folding her hands over each other in her lap. She rubbed the thread between her hands, satisfied when she felt its loose, sticky elasticity. 

 How interesting. 

“And Jonathan?”

Both of them froze. 

Gerard broke first, laughing nervously and high pitched. “Who’s that?”

Gertrude lifted her hand, showing both of them the thin strand of spider-silk pinched between two bony fingers. Both Agnes and Gerard whitened. “I imagine it’s whatever Avatar of the Web you have locked in the back room that is responsible for these.”

They winced simultaneously, glancing at each other. Doubtlessly trying to come up with a cover story. Gertrude sighed, standing up from the couch and straightening her skirts. Nothing for it then. Her Glock was still strapped to her thigh, and a hunting knife at her other. 

Gertrude knew very little about the Web. Just, she suspected, as it liked. It had no rituals, and held no explicit threat to the safety of the world. It was a threat, for sure. Even worse, a threat that Gertrude knew infuriatingly little about. But it was not the most immediate threat, and as Gertrude spent every day drowning under more and more immediate threats she held very little time for those which weren’t promising to end the world anytime soon.

Maybe that was why Gertrude was fully planning to leave this flat and never mention its inhabitants again - not to Mary, not to Dekker, and not to whatever scattered remnants of her cult that Agnes had left alive. Whatever Agnes wanted, it seemed to be closer to a normal life living with her friend than anything world-destroying. And whatever Gerard wanted...well, he was a good boy. He wouldn’t do anything dangerous to anybody other than himself. Mary didn’t have to know. Perhaps it was even for the best.

“You really don’t want to go in -”

“Gertrude, please, he’s in a rather delicate stage right now -”

Another thump against the door. As Gertrude left the living room, crisply walking down the thin and crowded hallway until she stood in front of a thin and battered-looking door, she could slowly begin to hear the faint but distinct sounds of...chittering. Skittering. It was a sound she had heard only once before, during a brush with the corruption.

Gertrude raised a hand to knock at the door. 

A hand shot out, pale and thin, and clasped Gertrude’s wrist in its grip firmly. Despite herself, Gertrude’s breath caught. Agnes’ touch still did that to her, it seemed. When she glanced to the side, she saw Agnes standing next to her, mouth stubbornly set firm. Her long and silky orange hair tumbled over her shoulder, glimmering under the soft lights.

“The world’s a cruel place, Gertrude,” Agnes said. “We’re just trying to look out for each other.”

“We all chose this life,” Gertrude said, voice tinged with reproach. 

But Agnes just set her jaw stubbornly. “We didn’t.”

It was a we that didn’t include Gertrude - but, of course, so little of Agnes’ life did. 

Gertrude let her hand drop to the doorknob, and she didn’t meet Agnes’ eyes as she twisted the knob and let herself in. 

Some part of her felt it very idiotic, to walk into what she knew was a spider’s lair. A ridiculous part of her mind couldn’t help but hum the little nursery rhyme she had learned as a girl. But if it was truly dangerous Agnes would have prevented her from going in, instead of asked her to. Some part of Gertrude trusted that, a part of Gertrude that somehow still survived despite everything. 

It wasn’t that Agnes appealed to the softer side of Gertrude. It was more that Agnes appealed to the hardest and cruellest parts of her, her tough outer shell, that ached for a reassurance that even a woman raised in utmost cruelty could make the choice to be kind. That there was still goodness in the world. If even a Messiah of the Eternal Flame could smile like that, could look at Gertrude with those deep and unfathomable eyes, then maybe all of Gertrude’s efforts weren’t for nothing. 

The room was white. No, not white - just covered in long, ropy strands of spider-web. Different shapes and sizes, different lengths and thicknesses. Some of it was wispy and gentle, like cotton fluff, while some of it was closer to rope. It wasn’t arranged in a spider’s beautiful pattern, an elegant nest: it was more like an explosion, as if it was thrown anywhere and everywhere without regard. 

The webs didn’t cover everything in the room. A bed was clearly visible, draped with webs as it was. There was a closet, and several boxes stacked in the corner with loose clothing draped over them. That was every piece of furniture and personal item in the room. It was a minor miracle that the living and dining rooms didn’t have more spidersilk in them - a testament to Agnes and Gerry’s tidiness, or a sign that the inhabitant rarely left the room. 

The inhabitant of the room was curled on the bed. It - he, perhaps? - was sitting upright against the wall, knees curled up against a chest, forehead resting on the knees. He was half-obscured by webs, but Gertrude could immediately tell that the figure wasn’t very old. Gerard’s age, or perhaps a bit younger. 

The webs did little to obscure the four arms - two flesh, two hinged and black and hairy - curled around the boy’s body. 

The boy didn’t look up when he saw her. Gertrude wondered if he even noticed. She was only just beginning to wonder what the thumps were when one of the spider arms lashed out and crashed against the wall, shaking the room. 

Hm. This was Gertrude’s first Web Avatar, but if they all looked and acted like this then she could only assume that they would be much more obvious than they are. New, then. Maybe as new as those identities Agnes had applied for. 

Normally she’d torch it and go home, but with both Agnes and Gerard in residence that option was out of the question. Her curiosity had been satisfied: she could turn around now and leave the room, knowing what it was Agnes and Gerard were protecting. She could let the inhabitants of this flat fade into obscurity, secure in the knowledge that none of them wished to harm her or the world. 

But Gertrude was a bit too curious for her own good, or perhaps a bit too soft, because she found herself stepping forward.

Her low-heeled boots didn’t slide on the web, but it did stick. When she lifted her feet they tracked up thin spiderweb, and she resolved to burn this outfit once she made her way back to the Archives. After a few breathless moments, Gertrude found herself standing in front of the boy, who hadn’t seemed to notice her yet. Poor situational awareness. He’d fit in well with Gerard. 

“Jonathan.”

The boy looked up at her, and anybody else would have bit back a scream. 

He had eight eyes - black, glistening, unreal. Bulbous and unsettling, they skittered and twitched in strange directions, as if uncertain how to work or how to see. New, brand-new. Uncontrolled. The boy’s mouth parted in slight surprise, but it was obviously difficult to read any sort of expression. 

He didn’t say anything. Gertrude found herself absently wondering if spiders had tongues. 

“Do you know what is happening to you?” 

The boy stared at her, long enough that Gertrude found herself wondering if he still clung to sentience, before slowly nodding his head. Good. 

“Then you know how to stop it,” Gertrude said sharply, and the boy sat up straighter. “Stop moping about, now. Look around. You’ve destroyed your room.” She gave the boy a moment to look around, expression still inscrutable, before she went back on the attack. “You’ve sulked long enough. Put away those arms, now. Go on.”

The boy stared at her, coarse black spider arms twitching and curling. 

“You know what’s happening,” Gertrude said firmly. “It’s your body. Not theirs. It’s your body, Jonathan. Bend it to your will. Not theirs.”

Slowly, disgustingly, the arms began to recede. They slid back inside his torso, sucking into his ribcage, shifting and clicking and chittering, until there was nothing left but an ordinary chest. Gertrude was even now able to recognize his shirt. It was one of Gerard’s. Green Day. 

“Your eyes now. Come on, hurry up. I haven’t got all day.”

The eyes pulsed and twitched, bubbling strangely. One of them whirred, glistening with a thousand fractals. 

The boy opened his mouth, and garbled speech came out. “I can’t...I can’t…”

“You have no choice. You must, so you will. Come on, Jonathan. Listen to me. It’s your body. It’s not theirs.”

The eyes melted back into Jonathan’s face, and that was so disgusting Gertrude politely looked up. She had seen worse, but no point in subjecting herself to it. When she looked back down she was shocked to see, for all appearances, a teenage boy. 

He had a thin, severe face, and large cloudy grey eyes. His hair was curly and matted, and despite his posture Gertrude could tell that he was the kind of short and built that was straining up against an imminent growth spurt. His skin was a light brown, with thin lips and features that suggested mixed ancestry. He looked very much like a regular, if somewhat striking, teenage boy. 

“There you go,” Gertrude said, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Who the fuck are you,” the rude child said. 

“Jon!”

She had been so focused on Jonathan, that she hadn’t noticed when Gerard and Agnes entered. Gerard practically jumped onto Jonathan’s bed, mindless of the spiderwebs, and folded him into a tight hug. Jonathan clung back desperately. 

“Don’t worry us like that,” Agnes said. She had appeared at Gertrude’s elbow, and moved forward to sit on Jon’s other side and give him a tight hug too that he returned just as fiercely. She looked up at Gertrude over Jon’s shoulder and mouthed ‘thank you’ to her, which she waved away. It had hardly been anything. 

“I think I’m rather owed a full explanation now,” Gertrude said pointedly. “And I think young Jonathan needs a bath.”

“What? No, I -” Jonathan separated from Gerard, and sniffed his shirt. He pulled a disgusted face. “Ew. Yeah, okay.”

******

They did not give her the full story. Gertrude wasn’t sure what she was expecting.

Oh, they gave her the broad strokes of it. All three of them were ‘old friends’, despite one of them being sixty and the other two being actual teeangers. Gerard and Agnes, especially, gave off the air of having known each other for years. They both seemed less familiar with Jon, though no less affectionate. Gertrude felt like she was trying to put together a puzzle with mittens and no idea what the final image would be. 

“I’ve been keeping an eye on Jon for a while,” Agnes said apologetically. They were all sitting around the rickety kitchen table now. Gertrude passed her teacup to reheat, which she did with a smile, and Gerard was at the door accepting the pizza from a confused deliveryman. Judging from the amount of takeaway containers, these two hadn’t been doing a lot of cooking. “He ran away from his grandmother’s a month ago. He made it to London and lived on the streets for a few weeks until I finally tracked him down. He’s been staying with us ever since.”

“When Agnes got in contact with me and told me that she found Jon, I figured it was time to bounce.” Gerard put some plates on the table and slid the pizza box into the center. Agnes eagerly grabbed the pizza and put a slice on her own plate. At Gerard’s look, Gertrude held up a hand in a ‘no thank you’ motion, and he shrugged. “Agnes has been trying to get me to stay with her since she lost her cult, but I figured I would just ditch Mum once I hit eighteen. Then...stuff happened...and I don’t really trust Agnes alone with a teenager anyway, so I left. Easy.”

“Thank goodness she’s only left alone with two teenagers now,” Gertrude said. She glanced at Agnes, who seemed unrepentant. “Is anybody looking for Jonathan?”

She shook her head. “Parents long dead. His Gran...she won’t look for him. Nobody will. I doubt any of them remember he exists. ”

“Did Jonathan make sure of that?”

Abruptly, Gerard looked very uncomfortable, but Agnes just nodded calmly. “Yes, likely.” At Gertrude’s ticked eyebrow, she continued, “She’s alive. But Jon...he’s convincing. We think. So far as we can tell. Nobody’s going to be looking for him, even the police.”

“Did we tell you how he was getting money while he was on the streets?” Gerard asked gleefully. “Apparently he can walk up to Canary Wharf bankers and convince them he’s their cousin visiting from out of state and ask them for spending money. They just believe him! Isn’t that wicked?”

“It’s easy. All you gotta do is make them feel guilty for forgetting you were coming.”

Jonathan, dripping wet from the shower and dressed in some cleaner hand-me-downs, appeared in the doorway. He walked forward until he was leaning against the kitchenette wall, accepting the pizza Gerard quickly passed to him. Clean and human, he looked like any other teenager. The only thing that revealed him for what he was were his eyes: empty, lifeless, and dull. 

“Hey, you’re still human!” Gerard said, perking up. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, tons.” Jonathan masticated his pizza, grease dripping down his chin. He locked eyes with Gertrude, who was careful not to blink as she stared back at him. “Who’re you?”

“The Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute,” Gertrude said crisply. “Gertrude Robinson.”

Jonathan’s mouth slowly fell open, revealing the primordial mass of globby cheese. Gerard was nearly bouncing in his seat, mouthing ‘It’s her!’ over and over again. 

“I told him about you,” Agnes said quickly - so quickly that it could have only been a lie. “Only good things, believe me!”

“I’m sure.”

“Wait,” Jonathan said, eyes darting back and forth between Agnes and Gertrude - who, Gertrude was somewhat embarrassed to find, were sitting somewhat close. “She’s the girl -”

“Girl who helped me get those new IDs for you guys,” Agnes said desperately. “Although she’s more of a woman. Say thank you, boys.”

Both boys mumbled thank-yous through mouthfuls of pizza. 

“How did it happen?” Gertrude asked Jonathan carefully. She was careful to keep that - pressure off her words. Very few reacted well to it, and she didn’t want to deal with a rampaging spider teenager again. “Your transformation. And don’t speak with your mouth full.”

Jonathan sassily made a show of swallowing the whole mouthful of pizza before he spoke. “I trapped my entire secondary school in a nightmare web where they all got turned into flies and eaten by spiders,” he drawled. “Oh, wait. I got bitten by a radioactive spider and ran away to London to fight crime.”

Gertrude gave him a very, very unimpressed stare. Jonathan smashed more pizza in his face. For a boy that must have been raised by his grandmother, he had no manners. 

A grandmother that he had likely done something to, to guarantee that she wouldn’t look for him. To ensure that an entire town wouldn’t search for him. Wiping a life off the map like that - what kind of teenager would do that without a second thought? 

A boy who found himself turning into a monster, fleeing the people he could hurt so he could reconvene with friends that understood?

Or a newly born monster that shed its old skin the minute it could?

Gertrude, as a younger woman, would have tended towards the latter. As an even younger woman, a child, she would have said the former. Now, she knew better than anyone how it could be both: a boy’s motivations propelled by a monster’s impulses, until even limbs of flesh were puppeted by silken threads. 

The Web was the fear of manipulation and being controlled, Gertrude repeated to herself, a mantra so familiar that it had worn grooves in her mind long ago. Jonathan had already proved adept at the art: swindling money to survive, erasing the imprints that a life left behind. 

Was she being controlled now? Was it any coincidence, that Jonathan ran into the arms of the one supernatural force in England that Gertrude wouldn’t shoot on sight? That he was lying in wait with the disappeared son of two people who had once been prominent in Gertrude’s life, a little boy she had seen grown up into a kind man despite all odds? 

Jonathan had inserted himself neatly, cleanly, and absolutely into Gertrude’s life. And he had done it almost even without her noticing. 

Of course, it was also the nature of the Web to make one ask these questions. It wasn’t just controlling - it was the fear of being controlled. By even thinking about this, Gertrude was playing straight into his hands -

“Gertrude.”

It was Agnes, sitting by her, looking at her with a softly sad expression. Her hands were in her lap, but they were twitching as if she wanted to reach out and take Gertrude’s hands in her own. They would be so different - they had always been different - but occasionally it felt as if whatever warmth they carried was the only heat that warmed Gertrude at all anymore. 

“If you don’t trust him, trust me.” Something flickered deep in Agnes’ eyes, like a hearth. Maybe that was Agnes: a hearth, house and home. “You can trust me.”

“Can I?” Gertrude asked, mouth unexpectedly dry. “How can someone like me trust someone like you, Agnes?”

Agnes smiled, baring teeth white and perfect as wax. “There’s nobody on Earth like you, Gertrude. You know that just as well as I do.”

Both boys had their hands slapped over their eyes, horrified. 

Maybe that was what convinced Gertrude: not Agnes’ promise of a safe place to rest in a tumultuous and dangerous world, but the fact that both these boys found that promise horrendously yucky. It wasn’t human - Gertrude had the feeling that no emotion from Jonathan could truly be human - but at least it was benign. In this world, sometimes that was the best you could ask for. 

“Fine. I put them in your charge, then, Agnes.” Gertrude drained the rest of her tea, eyeing the leaves critically in her cup as the boys whooped and Agnes exhaled heavily. Her tea leaves read a bad omen. That was comforting: she liked to know what was ahead of her. “If I hear any statements about a strange boy swindling businessmen out of their salaries then I’ll know exactly who is responsible. Am I understood?”

“They weren’t missing it,” Jonathan grumbled, before Gerard elbowed him in the side. “Fine! Fine, you won’t hear anything about it.”

Not what she had said, but she’d take it. The supernatural was at its least dangerous when it felt scared and hidden. Nothing was more dangerous than an Avatar who felt themself above human laws and rules. Or, at best, Gertrude. 

They never tended to live long. 

“Uh. Ms. Gertrude.” Gerard awkwardly creased his greasy napkin, expression tight. “Are you going to tell Mum?”

“Tell her what?” Gertrude asked archly. “I hardly think what Gerard Montague does is any of Mary Keay’s business.” As Gerard broke out into a relieved smile, Gertrude added, “Don’t give me any reason to charge after you, Gerard. You’re impulsive and reckless. Your mother’s kept you safe from yourself so far, but you’ve decided that you no longer need that protection. Don’t make me regret keeping my mouth shut.”

Jonathan snickered, ignoring Gerard’s flush. “Whipped.”

“I’ll speak to you outside, Jonathan.”

This time it was Gerard’s turn to snicker as Jonathan flushed and straightened away from the wall. “You’re in trou-ble!”

Good lord. This was why she hadn’t had children. 

But he followed her out the flat anyway. The flat complex was smaller, just a few buildings connected by sidewalks and catwalks, and the flats opened into the fresh air. As they emerged onto the first story, Gertrude let Jon lean against the railing and turn his head towards the sun. The wind blew softly, and Jon exhaled softly as he closed his eyes. Issues controlling a human form meant that he likely hadn’t been outside very often lately. 

“Tastes weird,” Jonathan decided finally, as if they had both been waiting solely for his judgement. “Air back home always tasted like salt. Everything was fresh and clean. It wasn’t anything like dirty, smoggy London.”

“Go back home, then.”

Jonathan snorted bitterly. He had turned his back to Gertrude, leaning on the railing to stick his head out. As if she wasn’t a threat. “Can’t. Gran doesn’t know I exist anymore. Trust me, nobody’s missing me back home.”

“How can that be? There must be school records, any kind of documentation. You must have known dozens of people.”

“Ah, that’s the genius of it.” Jon turned around, grinning lazily at her. He leaned against the railing, elbows back and resting on top of the metal frame. “All I needed to do was implant a few strategic suggestions. Just on the people who interacted with me the most, or the people most responsible for me. Gran, Mr. Heathcliff, Ms. Robbins, Dr. Yung.” He wriggled his fingers experimentally - like a magician doing a magic trick, or a puppeteer pulling strings. “Every time someone asks them where I am, they tell them that I never existed. And, you, know, wouldn’t they know? Jon’s Gran would know if Jon existed or not. So they doubt themselves too. Maybe Jon was never here, not really. Maybe he was just...a faint dream. The kind you forget the moment you wake up.”

“And the papers?”

Jon shrugged. “A person’s in charge of those papers. Ms. Hastings, school secretary. When she sees my student file, she’s going to ask my headmaster about it. And he’s going to say - who? And she’ll remember that I was nobody to remember at all. And those papers will become just so much garbage. When the cop, the government clerk, whoever, remembers that there’s no Jonathan to remember, that’s it.” Jon grinned at her, a proud kid showing her a perfect score on a report card.  “Anything is beatable, Ms. Gertrude, if there’s human error involved. You can build the most perfect machine in the world, but so long as a human’s involved in any step of that process then it can go wrong.”

 “Did the Web tell you that?”

“My Mother trades in lots of secrets, Ms. Gertrude,” Jonathan said, and in the turn of a second his eyes hardened into beetle-black shells, black and inhuman, before he forcibly pulled them back in again. Jonathan grimaced, gritting his teeth as he kept the transformation at bay. “Sorry. Sorry. I - I don’t want to hurt anyone. I won’t. Agnes and Gerry are going to help me. I’m going to choose what kind of mo - person I am. I’m going to choose right.”

“See to it that you do.” Gertrude stepped closer, and she knew that her face was stony and cold. Revealing nothing, with no weaknesses or cracks to exploit. She had lost every weakness long ago, save one. “I know where you live, Jonathan. I know what you’re capable of - even more, I suspect, than you yourself do. Mind yourself, and I won’t have to find a solution to your problem.” She let her eyes glint, just once. “I’m very good at finding solutions, Jonathan.”

Jonathan looked away first, of course. He swallowed heavily. “Mother told me about you.”

“All good things, I’m sure,” Gertrude said dryly. 

“She says I’m not ready yet. She said we have someone else for you, but I’m not ready yet. She says I’ll be the King one day, maybe, but not today. I’m...still hatching. It’s uncomfortable. It’s so -” Something haunted flashed through Jonathan’s lifeless grey eyes, and he shivered. “It hurts. So much.”

“So I hear,” Gertrude said, no trace of sympathy in her voice. “Good day, Jonathan.”

She left Jonathan there: shivering, alone, and human for now. 

She would see him again, she knew. A frightened teenage boy who promised her that he’d be king of the Web one day was a warning sign if she’d ever heard one. But if it was a warning sign, then it was one Gertrude was meant to hear. A shake of a rattlesnake’s tail: a creature that wants to go through the energy of biting you as little as you want to be bit, so save us both the trouble. 

And maybe Jonathan’s comment, so offhand he may not even have realized that he was making it, was a warning of its own: a spider in her own camp. Who?

Agnes was waiting for her, by the Underground station. She didn’t know she got there before her. Young people moved so fast these days. She smiled and waved when she saw Gertrude, as if they both had arranged to meet there. 

“What is it now?” Gertrude asked, exhausted. “Another favor?”

“Just a thank you for helping me keep the boys safe,” Agnes said cheekily. She stepped up, carefully, brushed a kiss to Gertrude’s cheek. Gertrude, idiotically, let her. “Call me, okay? For personal reasons.”

“Maybe,” Gertrude said, to the hearth that burned low in her heart, “if it’s for personal reasons.”

It wasn’t until she was halfway home on the Underground, thinking about noting down the address of Agnes’ apartment, that she found herself wondering what the address even was. Thomas Street...No, Jackson? 144...5?

What was she trying to remember?

No matter. Getting old again. Gertrude continued making notes in her notebook, reminding herself to search for a spider’s web, as the train rattled on for home, and the warmth of a kiss lingered on her cheek. 

[amalthea9]

Wulfhere x Friga drabble: Solv the silver fox

 A special thanks to my dear @ariel-seagull-wings !

I remember creating Solv with her help!

Hope this drabble brings many smiles!!

=========================

One night, Wulfhere awakes in the middle of the night to the sound of Friga's voice, but the tone is sad. His wounds have healed well enough for slow movement at this point. He makes his way slowly out of the cottage to the back of it.

There He sees Friga's form, surrounded by candles, hunched over something. He makes his way over to her slowly, not wanting to startle her.

He now sees an animal is what she is hovering over as she sings. A grey fox, who's leg is broken.

Friga's cheeks are soaked with tears, eliminated by the candle light, and she is mournfully chanting prayers.

Wulfhere can see that she is struggling to keep the fox still enough to try to splint his leg. So as quietly as he can, he comes up to her and slowly kneels down opposite of her. Friga startles to see Wulfhere in front of her, but realizes he is there to help her.

"Here," Wulfhere begins, his tone low and gentle. "Let me. Just keep him as calm as you can."

Friga nods and continues to pet the fox and sing to it.

Wulfhere splints the fox's leg with skill, as if he's done it before. When he's done, he leans back and watches Friga as she bundles the fox up into her arms. Friga places the grey fox into a basket. But as she tends to the fox, she scolds Wulfhere.

"You should be in bed and healing!" Friga say sternly. "You're wounds are-"

"We had a hound once that broke his leg…"

Friga looked at Wulfhere with surprise at his cutting her off. But she remained quiet as their eyes met. Wulfhere begins again, looking back down at the fox.

"My favorite hound broke his leg on a hunt. My father told me to slit his throat because he wasn't going to mend. I knew that hound, called him 'Wolf'. I knew Wolf would heal if he was given the chance. So I splinted his leg...and he mended."

Wulfhere looks up to Friga then, a gentleness in his eyes she hadn't seen before. "He mended just fine."

Friga's heartbeat quickened for a moment to see this kindness in Wulfhere's eyes. She knows now that Wulfhere is trying to reassure her that the fox will live. She smiles a warm smile at him as she picks up the basket.

Wulfhere remains on his knees, not wanting to worry Friga at his sudden movements. He watches her take the grey fox into the cottage first, then he tries to rise from the ground himself.

Friga is at his side as quickly as she can be, putting his arm over her shoulders. With her help, Wulfhere manages to get to his feet. Without a word, Friga helps Wulfhere back onto his bed.

Then she puts the fox's basket next to Wulfhere's cot so that she can watch them both. With the fox and Wulfhere now asleep,  Friga can get some rest herself. She looks at Wulfhere for a moment. Her heart is full of gratitude towards Wulfhere for helping her with the fox, something he didn't have to do. With a smile on her lips, she leans over him and tenderly kisses his forehead, before returning to her own cot.

Wulfhere, having not been entirely asleep, smiles a soft smile to himself. And wishes he might earn more kisses from Friga in the future.

"I'm trying to get him calm enough to take food," Friga explains. "I've even put some tonic on this jerky for the pain."

In the morning, Wulfhere wakes to sounds whimpering. He opens his eyes and turns to see that Friga is bent over the basket and is trying to get the fox to take some food. But the fox is panicking about it's splinted leg. Despite Friga's soothing voice, she can't seem to get the little one to calm down.

Friga looks up to see that Wulfhere is awake and sighs in frustration.

Friga knows Wulfhere is trying to cheer her up so she cracks a small smile. But it's gone just as fast as it came, as she is still unsuccessful with the fox.

"The tonic you give me?" Wulfhere asks. "Well no wonder he's crying and refusing it."

Wulfhere jokes, smirking at Friga.

With a grunt, Wulfhere turns to his side, resting on his elbow, and proceeds to scratch behind the fox's ear. This calms the fox down instantly, and Friga is able to feed him. She smiles at Wulfhere, who is still watching the fox.

"Tried something I did with Wolf when he was restless during healing," Wulfhere said. "Seems to work on this fox too."

Friga smiles with relief as the fox finally takes the jerky.

"There we go, little one," she whispers, then she looks up to Wulfhere. "Thank you, once again."

"Thank you nonetheless, Wulfhere," Friga says again, and she smiles softly at him.

Wulfhere shakes his head dismissively as he continues to rub the fox's ear.

"I'm just doing what I did with Wolf."

Wulfhere smiles back at Friga. And Friga thinks his green eyes are softer than usual.

The fox barks in complaint, and both Friga and Wulfhere look down at him. Wulfhere had stopped rubbing behind his ear and he is upset about Wulfhere stopping.

"Oh, sorry," Wulfhere mutters, and begins again.

Friga chuckles as the fox barks again in gratitude, and Wulfhere chuckles too.

"You need a name," Friga says, as she pets the fox.

"Give him a name and you're as good as keeping him as a pet," Wulfhere warns her with a smirk.

"Well, you already came with a name and I'm considering keeping you around," Friga replies jokingly.

But she doesn't look up at Wulfhere as she says this, so she can't see the expression of confusion mixed with hope from Wulfhere.

Does...Friga want him to stay? Because he was beginning to wish that he could...

"Besides, he's going to be here for some time, I'd rather not keep calling him 'fox'. Seems rude, doesn't it?" Friga asks, saying nothing further about Wulfhere staying with her.

"Though I was content to continue calling you 'stupid man' had you not decided to introduce yourself," Friga grins, now looking up at Wulfhere.

"Yes I imagine you would have," Wulfhere retorts with a smirk.

Which makes Friga chuckle again, making Wulfhere wish he could hear that playful chuckle more often. He looks down at the fox as he asks.

"What word do Danes use for 'silver'?"

"Sølv," Friga replies and she smiles at the fox. "How does Sølv sound?"

The fox barks happily and Friga nods.

Friga rises to her feet, a concerned expression on her face.

"Sølv it is then," Wulfhere chuckles.

But he winces after this and takes a sharp inhale.

"Lay back down," she says firmly. "And I will check your stitches."

Wulfhere nods in reply and obeys, hearing Sølv whimper as if concerned.

"Don't fret over Wulfhere, Sølv," Friga says calmly. "He's going to be fine, if he's more careful, that is."

Sølv is very playful and talkative, especially to Wulfhere. One morning shortly after Sølv's rescue, Friga is in the garden and she can hear Wulfhere talking to Sølv. It makes her smile to herself to hear Wulfhere's responses to the fox's barks.

Friga gives Wulfhere a stern look, and Wulfhere nods with a small smile. He had come to enjoy Friga's sternness with him, because he knew that she really did care for him.

And he found himself hoping that she might care for him a great deal more in the future. As he had come to care for her a great deal.

"Look," she hears Wulfhere begin. "I know the medicine is awful, believe me. But it really works! I'm actually feeling better than I would have under a physician's care."

Sølv yips again and the conversation continues, and when she hears Wulfhere tell Sølv that he isn't going to sneak him some food, she smiles all the more.

"Do you have any idea how pissed Friga would be at me? Not only for sneaking you food but for getting up and walking around! She's a force to be reckoned with when pissed and I'd rather avoid that!"

Friga laughs aloud at this, and Wulfhere hears her. It's that laugh that makes his heart quicken, and he wants to make her laugh like that every chance he can get.

Sølv yips again, and Wulfhere, hoping Friga is still listening, decides to be bold and say.

"Flattery isn't going to get either of you out of taking your tonic!" Friga states firmly.

"Though she is beautiful when she's pissed."

Wulfhere hears the sound of Friga stopping her gardening and is wondering if he over stepped.

"Beautiful when pissy, eh?" She muses to herself as she resumes her work.

But Wulfhere smiles because he can hear the smile on her face.

Which she is indeed smiling, and she shakes her head with a chuckle.

"You want a kiss good night, don't know?" Friga asks the fox.

Sølv brings a happy change of energy to the cottage. The grey fox begins to sleep with Wulfhere, as if guarding him since he is injured. Friga loves watching the nightly ritual of Sølv whining for Friga to pick him up and place him next to Wulfhere. And Wulfhere finds himself enjoying the fox's warmth and company.

But it's the smile Friga gives Sølv every night as she places him on the cot that Wulfhete enjoys the most. It's a warm and loving smile, and Wulfhere longs to be another recipient of that smile. There is one night as Friga places Sølv down, her gaze lifts from Sølv to Wulfhere. And the loving warmth in her eyes remain as her eyes meet Wulfhere's.

Wulfhere's heart quickens as he smiles softly in return, and it is now Friga's turn to feel her heart skip.

Sølv whimpers just then and breaks the eye contact between them. They both look down at Sølv and Friga chuckles.

She bends down once and places a kiss on Wulfhere's forehead as she whispers.

Sølv barks in reply, and Friga bends down and kisses Sølv's head softly, while he chirps in contentment.

Wulfhere can't deny he would like to receive a good night kiss from Friga too. Just as he had many nights when Friga thought he was asleep. But for her to know he's awake and kiss his forehead…

As Friga rises up from her bent position, her eyes meet Wulfhere's. She pauses for a second, her expression blank. Then Wulfhere sees her smile and the warmth in her eyes returns.

"Good night, Wulfhere."

"Good night, Friga," Wulfhere replies, smiling up at her.

Friga then rises up and makes her way over to her own cot across the room. She lays on her side, facing away from Wulfhere and Sølv, her head full of confusing thoughts.

"Have I really fallen for a Saxon?" She thinks to herself. "Is this what love feels like?"

Wulfhere, with his eyes on Friga, has already come to terms with what he feels.

But...how could he ever manage to tell her. He would be well enough to leave soon...

@professorlehnsherr-almashy @fyeahmeninroyalnavy

[bakubabes-tatakae]

The Demon’s Keeper

Author’s Note: If anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this feel free to let me know! Happy to add anyone!

(Rin Okumara x Reader)

Summary: Rin Okumura is a hot headed demon who is hard to keep under control, only one person seems to be able to do it better than anyone, Y/N. For that, she’ll be known as the Demon’s Keeper, but what exactly does that entail for them?

A03 Link

Part One:

Word Count: 2169

Our nightly ritual of sitting on the swings at the nearest park was rudely interrupted when a certain black haired hot head caught sight of some kids preying on some birds. His eyes filled with anger and I grabbed onto his hand, trying to get him to stay back. “Rin, come on, don’t do this. Can we just have one night where we don’t have to pick a fight with someone? Please?”

Rin pulled his hand from mine. “Do what you want, but I have to help those animals. Look at them, they’re helpless.” 

One of the boys, the one who looked like the leader, was pointing an arrow straight at the group of what seemed like pigeons by the jungle gym. The boy pulled the trigger and an arrow shot straight through the bird. I turned my head and hid my face. How could someone do that to a helpless little animal?

Rin looked from me to the bird, growing more angry at the situation as he saw my discomfort. Another arrow was put into the bow and that’s when he took action. Rin hollered to them. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!”

The boy turned to face us and aimed the bow and arrow toward us instead. Before we could move he shot the arrow. I gasped loudly as the arrow landed an inch from Rin’s face, sticking into the tree that the swings hung on. Rin growled and the boy provoked him. “Get out of my face. I’m just getting rid of these useless pests that just swarm, eat, and crap everywhere. So just shut the hell up.” The boy next to him loaded another arrow for him. 

I never had a chance to grab the sleeve of his jacket before Rin was barreling toward the kid, fist in the air. I tried to snap him out of it before something went wrong. “Rin, stop! Don’t do it!” His fist connected with the kid's face and he hit the ground. 

The kid backed away from Rin and I ran toward them. I grabbed onto Rin’s arm and hid slightly behind him. The two boys beside the leader grabbed his arms and helped him to his feet. The boy looked at Rin both in terror and in anger. “What kind of demon are you?”

They started to walk away and Rin looked at them. “Who are you calling a demon? You assholes are way more demonic than me.”

Rin wiped his nose on his sleeve of his free arm and looked down. Blood tinged the end of his jacket and there was some drying on his nose. He looked toward me. “Oh crap, I did it again.”

I grabbed his face in my hand and took a tissue out of my pocket with the other, wiping his nose and kissing the end of it. 

“What am I doing Y/N? ...Damnit.” He sighed and looked up as the birds he saved flew away. 

“You’re speaking up for what you believe in… even though I tried to stop you.” I smiled at him and giggled. 

He put his hands on my waist, turned me around, and started walking forward. “Let’s head back to the Monastery before the old man wonders where we are.”

* * * * * * 

When we got back to the Monastery we were greeted at the front doors by none other than Shiro Fujimoto. When he spotted the cut on Rin’s face he didn’t look pleased. “What happened to you?” He pulled his glasses down his nose some to take a closer look. 

Rin turned his head so he couldn’t see it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Shiro looked at him with intent. “Into the chapel, now.” I started to turn to walk to our bedroom when he spoke again. “Both of you.” I sighed and the both of us followed him in, sitting in the pews near the front. Shiro looked over at Rin. “Into the confessions booth, no if, ands, or buts.”

Rin groaned and went into one side of it, Shiro sitting in the other. I watched from the pew across from the booth. Rin looked more annoyed than I had seen him in a long time. Rin rested his face on his chin and stared at me as shiro spoke to him. “Oh straying lamb, confess thy sins with true sorrow and pray for forgiveness.”

Rin blew out a breath. “Yeah? Why should I? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Where did you get that cut on your face?”

And this is the point where the stories started. “I tripped going down stairs.”

“Your clothes are a mess.”

“It was a mother of a fall.”

“And that trace of a nose bleed?”

“Yeah, well, when I fell, I bumped smack into this super hot chick, and I-”

Rin didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Shiro came running out of the booth, standing in front of me, frantic. He turned back to his son. “What? Let’s go after her! Show me where she is, Rin!

Rin gulped. “Crap.” 

Shiro reached into the booth and dragged Rin out in a headlock. “You moron!” Rin wiggled in his arms. “You got into another fight. Admit it.”

I stood up from the pew and started toward them. “Shiro, you’re choking him.” I bit my lip nervously. It wouldn’t be the first time that Shiro had done this and Rin had passed out.

“Why must you always brawl?” Shiro squeezed a little harder. 

Rin fought back. “Let go of me you old fart!”

Shiro let go and turned around. “I just received a disturbing phone call from you employers. They told me they have no need for a delivery boy who doesn’t bother to return”

Rin stood up and stepped next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “So what? Big deal. There was no way I could cut it anyway. As if a guy like me could ever hold down a job.”

I looked over at him and smacked him in the back of the head. “Don’t be a baby Rin!”

Shiro chuckled at me. “I knew I liked this girl for a reason.” He got serious again as he spoke to Rin. “Y/N is right. A day will soon come when you must leave this monastery and strike out on your own. And as your guardian it’s my duty to see that you do so. You can’t rely on Y/N for everything when you leave here. Or do you just want to become a priest and run this monastery?”

Rin looked offended. “Take over this crappy church. Dream on.”

We all jumped when Yukio, Rin’s twin brother, walked into the room and spoke. “Dad? I’m all done getting myself ready to move out. All that’s left for me to do is carry out my luggage.”

Shiro smiled at him. “Well done, son.”

Yukio smiled at us. “Welcome home you guys!” He looked over at Rin. “Get into another fight.”

Rin looked away from him in anger. “Shut the hell up.” I smacked him in the back of the head again. He shot a glare at me. “Ow! Would you quit doing that?!”

“Would you be nice to your brother for once?”

Rin said nothing and the monks behind us spoke as they cleaned the windows. “I swear, for a couple of twins, those guys couldn’t be more different.”

They struck up a conversation without realizing we were listening. “Yukio might be the younger one, but he doesn’t act like it. He’s great at sports, always gets straight A’s, and he’s about to start his freshman year at True Cross Academy.”

“Meanwhile his big brother’s only accomplishment is causing trouble.” They looked over at us. “Rin,” Rin tried his best to ignore them. “You should really try being a little bit more like Yukio and start straightening out your life.”

My eyes grew wide as the other one spoke again. “And you should probably start taking better care of that girl you have on your arm, if you don’t, a good guy like Yukio is going to take her away.”

Rin shot around to stare at him. “I said just shut up!” The furnace next to the two cleaning the windows shot out blue flames, almost like it had been activated by Rin’s anger. 

I jumped and looked at Shiro and Yukio. Shiro ran toward the furnace, spouting things about it being junk and needing to be replaced, but I was skeptical. I looked up at Rin who was still staring at the two men and then looked toward Yukio.

Shiro left the room a second later when another monk came in to tell him that someone was here to see him. He turned before exiting the door. “Yukio, Y/N, please tend to Rin’s wounds.”

We both looked over at him and spoke together. “Yes sir.”

* * * * * * 

As Yukio put rubbing alcohol on Rin’s cuts on his hand he whined like a baby. I chuckled at him. “That stings!” 

Yukio continued without faltering. “I’m almost finished. Suck it up Rin.”

Rin looked toward Yukio’s boxes that were packed near the dining room table. “So you’re moving into the dorm, huh?”

“Yeah, well, since school starts next week and all. I’ll be saying goodbye to sixteen years in this place.” 

I looked over at him. “We’re gonna miss you Yuki.” 

“Don’t make me sound like a baby Y/N.” Rin spat.

“Don’t try to sound so tough you big baby.”

Yukio chuckled at us. “I’ll miss you guys too.”

Rin changed the subject some. “So I guess that makes this the last time you’ll be treating my injuries”

Yukio laughed. “What I become a doctor I’ll give you all the treatment you want… for a fee of course.”

Yuiko amazed me. He had everything together, he knew exactly what he wanted in life. I loved Rin, but he didn’t know what he wanted in life and tended to just go with the flow. “Being a doctor’s always been your dream, hasn’t it Yuki?”

“It has.” He smiled at me. 

Rin held up his bandaged hand and showed it to me, praising his brother. “Then go for it, I’m sure you’re gonna make it.”

“Listen, you guys are gonna be alright without me, aren’t you?” He looked concerned. “You’re going to be able to keep this guy in line right Y/N.”

I gave him a weak smile. Goodbyes sucked. “Probably about as well as I do now. But we’ll be okay Yuki, don’t worry about us.”

Rin didn’t take it the same way as I. “What’s up with that? Are you gonna lecture me too?”

“I’m just worried, that’s all, and not just me. Dad’s worried too, and so is everyone else here. I mean, you’re getting into fights every day. And you can’t seem to hold down a part time job for very long. You can’t even see how worried your own girlfriend is about you, Rin.”

Rin looked over at me with an apologetic look. “I’m really stressed about all that too. I know I’ve got to pull it together, and fast, but I…”

Yukio sensed the tension as Rin fell silent. “I’m sure you’re just being tested in a way, Rin.”

“By who?”

“God, of course.”

Rin’s face dropped some. “You know, you’re starting to sound just like the old man.” 

A couple of apprentices came into the room and spoke. “There you are Rin, we heard that the Southern Cross Shopping Mall is hiring part timers!”

“Yea?” Rin seemed confused. 

“We called and they want you there right now for an interview!” 

“What?” Rin was getting angry again. “How dare you call them without telling me!”

“You better hurry, you can borrow one of my old suits for the interview!” The monk threw a box at him. 

Rin caught the box over his head. “I need a suit to interview for a part time job?”

Yukio cheered up some. “What do you say?”

Rin scratched his head. “Looks like there’s no way out. 

* * * * * * 

As we sat in our bedroom Rin struggled with the tie on the suit. I stood up and walked toward him as he squirmed with anxiety and annoyance. “Rin, let me see it.” I reached for him. 

“No. I can do it. I’ll figure it out. I don’t need your help with everything. I have to be someone you can rely on as well. I have to take care of you.”

I sighed. “Don’t let what that guy said in the chapel get to you. I’m not going anywhere Rin. As unorganized as you are in your life I couldn’t see us any other way. I wouldn’t want you any other way Rin Okumara.” I smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

He smiled back at me and put his hand under my chin, lifting my head up to him. He put his lips on mine and spoke. “I love you too Y/N L/N.”

Part Two: *NSFW Ahead!*, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Updated: 5/12/2020

[sdvvillagers]

How would the different villagers spend their time in self-isolation/social distancing/lockdown?

I’ve placed the answer below a cut, not only because it’s a bit long, but also to make it easily skippable.  For some, this is a subject that brings about anxiety and discomfort, whereas for others, talking about it and thinking about it in terms of a fantasy world is soothing and reassuring.  That being said, I hope you all are happy, healthy, and safe right now.

Mayor Lewis is a bit overwhelmed by all of this, he’s never really had to deal with anything of this scope before and he’s not entirely certain how to handle it.  He relies on Doctor Harvey’s help a lot for guidance on what is recommended in terms of social distancing, emergency measures, etc.  Whatever Doctor Harvey recommends is what he goes with and he tries to help as much as possible to carry out the orders.  He works closely with local business-owners to provide assistance for merchants who aren’t receiving business (such as Clint, Robin, Marnie, etc.) or to provide resources to those who ARE receiving business and are in need of a flow of supplies (Gus, Pierre, Doctor Harvey).

Doctor Harvey, of course, is the most affected.  He’s placed strict social distancing measures in place with the help of Mayor Lewis and has taken every precautionary measure necessary to keep everyone safe.  He’s worked round the clock to prepare himself, his clinic, and his patients and to ensure that there is enough supplies at his disposal to keep everyone healthy.  He is especially mindful of Vincent, Jas, Evelyn, and George and helps them all maintain social distancing as much as possible.  He speaks with Alex, Marnie, and Shane about the importance of keeping them safe and secluded, the importance of proper hand-washing, the importance of following the social distance orders, and the important tasks they face as caregivers to Vincent, Jas, Evelyn, and George as younger/older members of the community.  To further maintain social distancing and to keep her safe, Harvey puts Maru on temporary leave from the clinic and he runs it all himself.  It’s incredible amounts of work and stress to run the clinic alone during all of this, but he feels it’s for the best.  No sense in putting Maru in jeopardy when he’s capable of taking care of everything himself.

Gus is busy, busy, busy!  He had offered delivery of his food to villagers stuck at home and WOW have the villagers been taking him up on his offer.  Gus stays behind in the kitchen to cook basically non-stop while Emily runs around town making food deliveries.  Both Emily and Gus are happy to do it, though, it brings them joy to know that they can provide hot meals to the community in this time of crisis.

With Emily gone so much working in the saloon, Haley mostly has full reign of the house.  She misses taking shopping trips into the city or walking around town just to people-watch.  Being stuck at home is incredibly boring and every so often, she’ll sneak out into the forest with her camera just to take some pictures and get some fresh air.

At Pierre’s store, business is booming.  As villagers stock up on essentials and grocery items, Pierre is very busy to keep up with demand and keep the shelves stocked for the community.  Caroline is quick to help with the extra work, mostly to cope with her boredom.  She’s very social and desperately misses time spent gossiping with her friends in town square so at least working in the shop helps pass the time.  In her free time, she’s primarily on the phone, usually with either Jodi or Marnie.  Abigail is placed in charge of grocery delivery, a new service Pierre has offered in light of the current situation.  Abigail basically spends her day running back and forth to the homes in town to deliver the orders while Pierre and Caroline stock the shelves and fill the orders.  When Abigail DOES find herself with downtime, she locks herself in her room to play video games to escape.

George and Evelyn were given strict instructions from Doctor Harvey to maintain social distancing and have been receiving grocery deliveries and food deliveries to their door to keep them safe.  Evelyn desperately misses her gardening and she hates to think of what the community gardens will look like when this is all over, but she understands the importance of staying safe.  George isn’t all that affected by it, most days are spent in social isolation anyway by choice, so now he’s at least glad that community events are all cancelled until further notice.  Alex goes a bit stir crazy, he misses going up to the spa in the mountains to work out or to the beach to hang out with Haley.  He occupies his time by keeping his grandmother company, he knows how hard this is on her.  They spend their days cooking together, playing card games, and he helps Evelyn care for George as much as possible.

Pam can tolerate it pretty well until nighttime.  Nighttime is when she would go to the saloon every night to drink and socialize and now that’s all over.  She doesn’t have too terribly many friends, but she did enjoy chit-chatting with Gus every night over a beer.  She purchased bottled beer to keep at home to at least not lose out on her nightly ritual, but it’s just not the same.  She receives judgmental stares from Penny and finds herself drinking less as a result, whether she likes it or not.  Penny busies herself by coming up with video lessons for the children and although she misses them terribly, she knows she has to be strong and keep a happy face on for them.  When she’s not teaching the children, she takes advantage of her spare time to read as much as possible.  She doesn’t have too terribly many books at home, she usually relies on the library which is now closed, but she makes do.

In the mountains, most of the household actually survives quite well.  This isn’t too terribly different for Sebastian, he usually locks himself in his room to work on his computer so that doesn’t change all that much.  The biggest issue is that Friday night pool at the saloon is no more and although it’s usually a high point of his week, he’s able to work something out with Abigail and Sam.  Instead, they play Friday night Solarian Chronicles over video chat, so he still gets to keep his Friday night ritual of hanging out with his friends.  Maru finds herself with more time than normal with Harvey placing her on leave, she’s okay with locking herself in her room to work on her robotics projects or to help her dad in the lab.  Demetrius is able to continue life as normal, his work in the lab continues and his outdoor research in the mountains is unaffected.  Robin, on the other hand, is very affected.  She’s a very social creature and misses her weekly workout group, misses visiting with people in town, and misses her work.  Mayor Lewis has assisted her financially due to lack of work, but she gets very stir-crazy stuck at home.

Jodi, Sam, and Vincent’s life gets difficult.  What little escape Jodi had while Sam was working and while Vincent was at school is now gone and she returns to full-time motherhood.  Vincent is very easily bored and in-need of stimulation and she has to get creative to come up with ways to keep him busy.  He misses Jas and Penny and needs lots of reassurance.  Sam helps out as much as he can, but even Sam is bouncing off the walls a bit being confined to the house.  He locks himself in his room a lot to play his guitar or talk to his friends on the phone.  If he’s still working at JojaMart, he’s out of the house a lot picking up extra shifts at Joja to keep up with demand.  If Kent is home, his main goal is just to make himself useful.  If Jodi needs dishes done, the rug vacuumed, or the groceries put away, he’s happy to help.  Anything to distract from the feeling of being cooped up and confined, it’s incredibly unsettling for him and he needs to keep himself occupied and useful or else he starts to feel uneasy.

Life at Marnie’s ranch isn’t too terribly different.  Of course the ranch isn’t receiving any business, but they are able to survive with assistance from the mayor.  Marnie pours all of her time and effort into her animals, having Jas assist her in the barns and coops to make sure the animals are cared for.  If Shane is working at Joja, he’s gone quite a bit with working.  If not, he’s incredibly miserable stuck at home.  He helps out in the coop when he can, but Marnie seems to have everything under control and doesn’t need him all that much.  He sulks in his room, unable to plaster a smile onto his face for morale.  He doesn’t want Jas to see him like this, so he stays locked away to sulk.

Life for Linus actually becomes a bit more serene.  It wasn’t often he would run into people but when he did, it was never usually a welcome interaction.  Now, with everyone remaining in their homes, he can finally enjoy the peace and quiet of the mountains all to himself.

Villagers who live alone like Clint, Willy, Elliot, and Leah, are very much affected.  They feel incredibly alone and feel the weight of the isolation.  Willy turns to fishing, Elliot turns to writing, Leah turns to her artwork, and Clint finds himself working on large projects that he’s always wanted to do, but never had the time.  Still, even all these projects and busywork isn’t quite enough to help pass the time and these four take the isolation period incredibly hard.

[themanicmagician]

Shipwrecked [4/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd’s boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

“Welcome!” Mabel chirped, ever a font of enthusiasm. She clasped her paws together. “How can I help you two?”

Redd, looking decidedly uncomfortable, did not speak up. It fell upon Tom to explain.

“He needs a wardrobe.” Tom said. “He lost most of his things in the shipwreck, so we’re replacing what we can.”

Tom could admit, to himself alone, that he would miss the sight of Redd in his shirts. But Redd really should wear more fitting, comfortable clothes instead of baggy tees. And besides, Tom didn’t have that many spares.

“Oh, of course! How many outfits were you thinking?”

“Let’s do five, to start with. And two sets of sleepwear.”

Mabel nodded, then beckoned Redd over to the fitting platform. “Right this way, Mr. Redd.”

“It’s just Redd.” He did not follow the porcupine’s instructions right away, instead murmuring to Tom: “I’ll pay you back for all of it when I can.”

Redd was embarrassed—embarrassed to be unable to provide for himself, to be forced to rely upon Tom’s charity.  

“Don’t worry about it.”

This didn’t reassure Redd; his mouth twisted in discomfort.

“But…”

“Everything alright?” Mabel circled back to them, tape measure in hand.

“Yes, just give us a moment, please.”

When Mabel returned to the platform, Tom tried a different approach. “You’ve been a great help with the boys lately.” Indeed, story time with Redd was now a nightly ritual in the Nook household. They were steadily making their way through Flurry’s entire library. “Just think of it as repayment for that, alright?”

Redd mumbled something unintelligible, but finally nodded his acceptance. They joined Mabel. Redd stepped up on the platform, and Mabel began taking his measurements, jotting them down in a little spiral notebook.

Sable watched them shrewdly from her sewing station. Redd and Sable had never met in person before, but both knew of each other thanks to stories from Tom. Redd saw Sable observing him, and he offered a sheepish smile.

“I suppose we can’t do a complete wingspan measurement for now.” Mable mused. Redd turned away from Sable to look at the younger hedgehog, grateful for the plausible excuse to break away. “I’ll just have to use the measurement of one arm for the other as well. Oh! We can fix you up with a new sling, too. Wouldn’t be hard at all.”

“It’s fine, really,” Redd demurred. “It’s not necessary.”

“Oh pish. It’ll just be a bit of fabric, won’t it?” Mabel trotted over to her sister. “Sable, surely you’ve got something lying around that we could use.”

Redd threw a helpless look to Tom. Tom only shrugged. Once Mabel got started on something, there was no stopping her.

“Here.” Sable offered up a stripe of black fabric. Mable seized it with a happy “Thanks sis!” and then spent a good ten minutes between the front of the store and the back storage room, putting together an ensemble for Redd.

“Okay, you can try these on to start with.” Mabel set a bundle of clothes down in the changing room. “Do you need any help getting dressed?”

Redd colored. “No, I can handle it myself.”

As they waited for Redd to get changed, Tom chatted lightly with Mabel. The young hedgehog was overjoyed that their middle sibling, Label, was making frequent trips into Bastion. By the time Redd emerged from the dressing room, Tom had learned more than he ever needed to know about how Label’s hot pink clothing line was revolutionizing the fashion industry.

“Well?” Redd asked, scuffing his foot on the carpet.

Tom gave him a once-over. Mabel had selected comfortable clothes, suited for island living. Redd wore tan corduroy shorts, and a light pastel color block t-shirt. He didn’t look like a sleazy businessman, but like a true islander. Like he’d fit in well here.

Tom shoved the thought aside. He and Redd had made amends, but Redd was still going to leave in a few short weeks. Best not to dwell on things like that.

“It suits you,” Tom told him.

Redd muttered a thanks before Mabel dragged him off to try on something else.

~*~

Tom chopped apples into slices in his kitchenette for today’s lunch. He was fond of pears, but was infinitely grateful to Alex for bringing other fruits to the island, thereby expanding their cuisine possibilities. He was preparing fruit salad, made of the island’s entire available assortment, and included generous scoops of orange sherbet as well.

He stopped by the Cranny to drop off the boys’ lunches before he headed outside. He found Redd exactly where he thought he would: by the sea, an easel and canvas in front of him. He was working with acrylics today. Redd was painting the shoreline before him, capturing a wave mid-crash. Even partly-done, his work was impressive. It was a bit of luck that the shipwreck had spared the fox’s dominant hand.

A little ways in front of Redd was Julian. The unicorn must have assumed Redd was here to paint him, because he was currently splayed out on sand in a very dramatic pose.

“Make sure you get my best side, glitter!”

Redd, focused on painting a collection of wispy clouds, didn’t pay Julian any mind. Unperturbed, Julian remained in his chosen pose.

Tom nudged Redd’s shoulder with the bowl of fruit salad.

“Lunch.”

“Mmm.” Redd’s gaze didn’t lift from his canvas.

There was a splotch of blue paint on one of his ears. How on earth had he managed that?

Tom set the fruit salad down on the sand beside Redd. The fox’s tail swished lazily back and forth as he worked.

“It looks very good.” Tom complimented.

“Flatterer. I’m out of practice. Been a while since I’ve done something like this.” A while since he’d patined original art instead of copying classical pieces.

Redd added layers to the wavers. They began to look like wild, angry things.

Tom frowned.

“I spoke with Orville. He has spare life jackets he can donate for your boat. And he’s happy to go over basic sailing techniques with you. It won’t be like that again.”

“It was so sudden.” Redd explained, at length. His brush paused on the canvas as his gaze became distant. “One moment the waves were calm, and the next, they were roiling. I’m lucky I got away with just this.” He gestured to his splinted arm.

“Maybe someone can go back with you.” Tom suggested. “One of the dodos at the airline could sail with you and then fly back at port.”

The light in Redd’s eyes dimmed slightly. “Oh, yeah. The dodos. Maybe.”

The air between them felt thick with awkwardness. Tom kicked at the sand, begging someone up there for a distraction.

His prayer was answered in the form of Julian.

“My goodness!” Julian gasped, clutching a hoof to his chest as he ogled Redd’s work. “What a painting! You have captured my beautiful essence! Sublime! Magnifique!”

Redd leveled him a flat look.

“Yes, that’s exactly what he was going for. You truly have a mind for art, Julian.” Tom said.

Julian gave a bow before he pranced off with a self-satisfied smirk.

Redd snickered. Tom chuckled. They seemed to set each other off. Once they started, they couldn’t stop, until they were both letting loose full belly laughs.

~*~

June was a welcome reprieve from the previous month of cold rain. The air was mostly pleasant, occasionally humid. Rain came in short bursts and cleared up just as quickly.

Tonight was mildly warm, and they’d constructed a decent-sized bonfire in the town square. Residents mingled around the area. Flurry and Diana sipped drinks and chatted. Lucky was showing Del the proper marshmallow roasting technique. Julian and Elvis were arguing over whose turn it was to sing at the microphone. Fang grumbled about “kids and their wild parties” and yet mingled with the group anyway.

Tom sat on the swell of a grassy hill, overlooking the plaza. Sable was at his right. She could never sit entirely still, so she’d brought a half-finished scarf along with her to work on.

He watched the impromptu party for several moments, until a thought occurred to him. He straightened up from his casual slouch. Where were the boys? They knew the island, but it was still scorpion season.

“Sable, have you seen—?”

She pointed before he finished his sentence. Tom squinting in the dim lighting to see what she was gesturing towards.

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Mhm.”

Celeste had dragged her brother over to her telescope. Blathers was peering through it as Celeste chattered at his side. The siblings were utterly preoccupied with their occupation, completely oblivious to the three forms sidling up behind them. Timmy, Tommy, and Redd were inching closer and closer. Each of them was holding a fake rubber tarantula. Tom had raised an eyebrow when the boys ordered a box of them a week ago, but hadn’t thought to question why they wanted them. He’d just assumed they were for the Cranny’s stock.

Timmy giggled visibly, his tiny shoulders shaking with laughter. Redd shushed him.

“Shouldn’t we stop them?” Tom asked.

“Better Blathers than me.” Sable said simply, needles clicking lightly as she knit. There was a gleam of mischief in her brown eyes.

“Sable!” She startled a laugh from him.

The boys rose up on their tip-toes to place their fake bugs on Blathers’ shoulders; Redd deposited his rubber tarantula atop the owl’s head.

Blathers, feeling the touch, lifted his wing in confusion. He squawked at the bugs on his wings, and flapped them in panic. In his fright, the tarantula on his head slipped down, landing right between his eyes. Blathers’ resultant squeal turned everyone’s heads.

Timmy and Tommy leaned on each other, bodies wracked with laughter. Redd snickered.

Blathers, having now realized he’d been played, stomped over to the perpetrators. He pointed an accusatory wing at Redd.

“You! You—You—!”

“Hey, hey, calm down, Babbles. Don’t get your feathers in a twist.”

Blathers sputtered indignantly.

“You wouldn’t hurt an invalid, would you?”

“I... well...no…but still!”

Redd sobered. “Sorry, I guess we went too far. I apologize. Put ‘er there.” Redd held out his hand for a shake, to make amends.

Blathers took it—then shrieked again. Redd had palmed him another fake spider. The boys started giggling again.

Tom facepalmed.

~*~

Tom deposited the splint and sling on the coffee table. The fur on Redd’s now-freed arm was a bit matted, unwashed for seven weeks. But the arm itself appeared sound.

“Well?” Tom asked, a touch anxiously. “How does it feel?”

Redd flexed his arm carefully. Drew his fingers into a loose fist before he extended them again.

“A bit tender. Stiff. But better.”

Redd’s ship had been fully patched up about a week ago. Now that the fox’s arm was finally healed, there was no real reason for Redd to stick around. He had confessed to coming here to see Tom. But Tom couldn’t give his heart away so easily a second time. And Redd had never promised to stay, only to visit.

Tom busied himself by picking at some fuzz on the arm of the couch. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to get on your way then.”

“...Actually, I figured I should stick around for a bit.”

“Oh?” Tom was grateful his tone came off at just the right level of interested, not too eager.

“Sure. Should probably hang around another week. Maybe more. You know, just to make sure my arm is strong enough. It’ll be a problem if I get out there and can’t really grasp the wheel.”

“Uncle Redd!”

“...Redd!”

Timmy and Tommy burst into the room, a whirlwind of excitement. Tommy was clutching a new book to his chest.

“Can you read this one to us tonight?”

“...night?”

“Of course.”

The twins noticed Redd’s discarded splint, and squeezed themselves on either side of Redd to cuddle.

“Careful, boys.” Tom warned. He didn’t want them to accidentally hurt Redd in their enthusiasm.

“They’re fine,” Redd said, softly. He gently ruffled the fur on both the boys’ heads.

“K.K. is in town today. Can we all go see him?”

“...him?”

“Who?” Redd asked.

“He’s Uncle Tom’s favorite.”

“...favorite.”

Redd raised an eyebrow at Tom. “Favorite?” He repeated, dryly.

“Favorite  musician.” Tom corrected.

“Can we go? Please?”

“...please?”

“Why not.” Tom said. The boys cheered and scampered off to get ready.

~*~

Lightning bugs blinked in the air as the quartet meandered from the Cranny over to the town plaza. K.K. sat on his customary stool, giving his guitar a quick tuning before his performance. A few villagers were already milling around the area, waiting for the evening concert to begin.

“Right, my dudes and lady dudes, any request?” The musician asked the crowd.

Suggestions were hollered out, and K.K. inevitably went with a jaunty fairground melody. Diana and Julian clapped along to the melody. Isabelle coaxed the twins into dancing with her, and the trio jumped and swayed merrily in the center of the plaza. One song melted into the next, and more villagers joined in. Muffy twirled in elegant pirouettes. Del performed a shambling robot. Neither of them really matched the tone of the music, but they were having fun.

Redd nudged Tom. “You should be out there too.”

“Me?” Tom laughed. “Hardly.”

“What, are you shy?” Redd teased, before he offered his hand. “C’mon. I’ll go with you.”

After a beat, Tom placed his paw in Redd’s. It was warm.

Redd didn’t bring them to the center, instead lingering on the fringe of the group. Neither of them tried to keep up with the frantic beat of the music, instead swaying with each other, from side to side. They were close like this, closer than they had been in some time. Redd smelled like the sea, like his acrylics, like the lemon-scented soap Tom owned. Their noses brushed by accident.

“Sorry.” Redd murmured.

“No, no—it’s fine.” Tom had one hand splayed across Redd’s back. For support.

The music shifted to something slower. Tom groaned inwardly as he recognized the melody. K.K. Love Song. He glanced over to K.K. Timmy and Tommy were next to him, looking rather smug. Had they been the ones to request the song? After all he’d done for them…

At least Redd was unfamiliar with the music. The one saving grace.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Never a good sign.” Tom quipped, weakly.

“I’m grateful for everything you all did to rebuild my ship.” It was still shocking to hear Redd speak so plainly, so honestly. “But, if it was alright with you, I thought. That maybe instead of going, I could...stay?”

Tom froze. It was what he’d wanted, and now that it was being offered to him, he could scarcely believe it.

Redd mistook his silence for a denial. He began to draw away.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll go. I can go tomorrow.”

Tom clutched his arm so he wouldn’t slip away. “No! No, I mean—yes. If you wanted to stay I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Redd’s smile was like the sun.

“Good. Great. Yeah.” He let out a breathless laugh of relief.

“We’ll have to pick a plot of land for you. Alex can help coordinate that.”

“We’ll be neighbors. Neighbors,” Redd tested the word out, and seemed to like it. “I’ll badger you for a cup of sugar. You’ll yell at me for mowing my lawn too early in the morning.”

“The boys will lose their baseball in your yard. You’ll have to return it. Over and over again.”

“Will I? Maybe I’ll be a crotchety neighbor. Who wants those darned whippersnappers messing about my perfectly-trimmed lawn?”

Tom laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

Tom did.

It was a good idea for them to live separately, for now. They would wade into it slowly this time, not plummet into the deep end right off. They’d see what happened, how it played out. But even though they were taking their relationship slow, that didn’t mean he couldn’t…

Tom ducked down to press a chaste kiss to Redd’s cheek.

“Welcome home, Redd.”

[inorganicone2230]

Aos Sí (Part 1) Yandere!Erasermic x Fem!Reader

TBC in Part 2

Summary: You've just moved to a small, quiet town to with hope of getting some peace and quiet, unbeknownst to you, you've attracted the attention of two individuals who have no intention of letting their newest interest go unaware of them for too long. It’s been so long since they found someone they can agree on and they are willing to do what ever it takes to keep it.

Warnings: Not meany for this chapter, just some light stalking/chasing, and some suggestive implications.

As always, a huge thank you to @talpup for all the brainstorming and for just being an awesome friend in general! I know how much you've been looking forward to this one. lol

Grams shop sat wedged between a cheap liquor store and a small rundown café. Chipped red brick and stain glass windows in colors of blue, green and purple gave the place a warm glow on the inside, the colors reflected off the shelves and made anyone who entered the shop believe as if there was real magic being woven into all the items showcased inside. The store was small and dimly lit, it’s shelves and walls lined with items that were purchased online or special ordered from people Grams had met during her early years traveling the world. Sometimes she would even put out items that she had handmade herself, though that was a rare occurrence. These days, if someone wanted one of her personal items, they had to know to ask her and pay a little more for the extra care and work that went into them.

Working in a novelty shop was a rather interesting experience and like with all jobs, it has it’s pros and cons. There were days when it took every ounce of your willpower not to roll your eyes at the love struck schoolgirls that came in asking about charms to get their crushes attention and other days where you were happy to talk to a customer about the interesting myths surrounding the use of tarot cards. It was all about attitude with you and how your mood affected your work ethic for the day.

Grams was under the firm belief that one need only believe in magic to make it real, which, while a perfectly charming notion, was not one you yourself held. Grams had every excuse in the book to believe in all that hocus-pocus nonsense, she was the one who owned the shop after all, it would be strange if she didn’t believe in it at least a little bit. You on the other hand, you had no such tendencies. As much as you loved her, you only worked here because of how well she paid you and if the pay wasn’t good, then family or no family, you would have been employed elsewhere.

You still had your own expenses to pay after all, even if they were relatively small ones.

Today was a Sunday though, which meant that the shop was as quiet as a graveyard, it also meant that with the lack of traffic in the place today, you were free to close up a bit early and head home. Grams insisting that you take the next few days off.

“Are you sure Grams? I can come back tomorrow and help you with inventory, I really don’t mind.” You said, shrugging on your jacket and grabbing your purse while Grams went around checking the windows and locking the doors.

“Nonsense! I may be old (Y/N), but I’m still capable of running my own business without help. I live here, but there’s no reason for you to spend all your free time in this place. Enjoy your youth while you still have it, lord knows you’ll wish you had when you get to be my age.”

Your shoulders shook as you let out a hearty laugh. The old bat was barely into her 50’s, as far as you were concerned, she was still young and spry. “Alright, alright. I know when I’m not wanted.” You said, waving as you walked out the door. “Have a good night, love you!”

“I Love you too Sweetheart, be safe on your way home.”

—————

The walk home was a quiet one for you tonight in the small tourist town you now called home and you took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air while you bask in the peaceful silence. It was quiet now, but in just a few weeks, the streets would be packed with city goers wanting to escape the hustle and bustle of their busy lives in exchange for a taste of the peaceful countryside. Winter was only just now ending, the snow had only just finished melting and the evening air still had a bite to it, but you didn’t mind, it was just another reason why you were so happy about your decision to move out here.

When Grams had called you, explaining that she would like to have some help around her shop for pretty decent pay, you had jumped at the opportunity, especially when you were told that there was already a place available for you to move into, a small cabin that a friend of hers owned. It only took a few short days to pack up your worldly possessions and before you knew it, you were sitting in the passenger seat of a moving truck and on your way to the next chapter of your life.

Three weeks later and you were feeling pretty good about this spur of the moment decision.

But if you had to be honest, it did all seem to be too good to be true, you kept looking over your shoulder half expecting someone to jump out and yell “Psych!” at any given moment. But so far everything had been fine, the only thing you were expecting to cause you any kind of inconvenience wasn’t even due to start until the weather warmed up.

The owner of the cabin let you live there rent free on the condition that you keep an eye on the high fence that surrounded a small patch of privately owned forest, it was a habitat for a few rare species of bird and apparently there was a rather large pond out there that the local kids liked to try and sneak off to party at. All you we’re supposed to do is call the cops if you noticed anything suspicious going on.

Easy peezy lemon squeezy, right?!

The cabin was on the edge of town and surrounded by a grove of maple trees, away from any neighbors and the owner was getting up there in age, so being closer to town was better for him, which is why he was now letting you live there. You had tried to offer him some payment regardless but he refused to take it, said that any family of Grams was family to him and family never pays.

“I really need to buy a bike. This trek will be much easier with a bike.” You mumbled to yourself as you approached the front door, glancing around the quiet area nervously, half expecting a serial killer to jump out and start waving a knife at you. “Note to self, include a flashlight and pepper spray with that bike.” You said as you quickly slipped inside and promptly locked the door.

You breathed a sigh of relief now that you were in the safe confines of your new home and proceeded to go about your nightly ritual of slipping into some soft spandex and a tank top before making yourself a quick dinner. You still had a bit of unpacking to do, but since Grams had given you the next few days off, you figured you could procrastinate for one more night and relax with a cheesy horror movie.

—————

Sometime later, you awoke to a strange sound in the otherwise silent room. At first, you thought it might be the TV, but the room was dark, indicating that the device had automatically shut off on it’s own.

Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you realized that the sound was coming from outside. It was faint, but it almost sounded like a flute. Stumbling towards the door, you cracked it open just a bit to try and make out the sound a bit better.

But…

As soon as you open the door, the sound was louder than before, almost like it was right next to your ear. Your mind goes blank and you can’t think or feel anything, all you know is that this melody is so sweet and so entrancing, that you could listen to it forever and never tire of it.

Before you knew it, your feet are carrying you through the gate and into the forest. You didn’t feel the cold, nor the branches that left the occasional bloody scratches on your exposed skin, all you could do was follow that wondrous sound straight to its source.

On and on you walked, further and further into the dense trees until at last you came to a clearing. The same clearing that held the aforementioned pond, a body of smooth, crystal clear water that perfectly reflected the full moon in all its glory, surrounded by lush green grass and patches of wildflowers with scattered petals fluttering in the warm breeze.

It was only when the lovely sound faded away into silence that your mind suddenly snapped back into reality and you felt a sudden onslaught of terror despite your picturesque, and very out of season, surroundings.

Your mind swam with so many questions and the sheer force of emotions overtaking you at that moment threatened to make you pass out at any moment.

How had you gotten here?!

When had you gotten here?!

What was going on?!

Fear seized hold of you as you realized that you couldn’t remember how you had reached this place or how long you had been walking. You couldn’t even remember what direction you had come from when you entered the glade.

Snap!

The sharp sound of a snapping branch and two deep chuckles immediately snapped you back to the present and you spun around, a frightened yelp slipping past your lips, only to come face to face with two men. At least, they looked like men, they were still relatively hidden by the dark shadows, having not stepped into the bright moonlight just yet.

“W-Who are y-you? This is p-private property, you need to l-leave now before I-I call the cops.” You wished that your voice sounded stronger, but you were still so confused and scared, that weak threat was all you could muster.

The two men chuckled again and looked at each other before turning back to you and, was it your imagination or were their eyes glowing? That had to be your imagination or a strange trick of the light… right…

The one on the left spoke first.

“I think you’re mistaken Little Dove, we’re not the ones trespassing here, you are.”

Before you could speak, the one on the right spoke next.

“You’re the one that’s wandered into our territory Kitten. If anything, I think you should be the one getting punished. What do you think Zashi?”

Something about his tone unnerved you and you weren’t sure if it was a conscious decision or some primal muscle memory, but you turned to run. You didn’t care what direction you were going or where it would lead you, all you cared about was getting away. Something in the back of your mind and in your gut was telling you that you had to get away from these two. No matter what.

You had made it maybe 10ft away from them when you felt yourself collide with what felt like a wall made of solid flesh, the force of your collision sending you flying back and when you opened your eyes to see what it was, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

Somehow, they had managed to get in front of you without making a sound and now that they were standing in the moons light, you were able to get your first real look at them.

And what you saw both horrified and fascinated you all at once.

Both were absolutely gorgeous and dressed in normal clothes, jeans and t-shirts, but it was the rest of their appearance that had truly caught your eye.

One had long blond hair that fell down to the middle of his back, and swirling green eyes that glowed eerily in the dark and his ears, his ears were tall and pointed, like an elf in some fantasy movie. His smile was large and twisted, sharp canines were clearly visible and they flashed dangerously when he tilted his head to the side as he regarded you thoughtfully.

The second was as dark as the other was light. His black hair fell in messy waves around his shoulders and neck, a face full of stubble and the same pointed ears. His eyes glowed as well but red, like the color of fresh blood and whereas his partner could pass for human if not for the ears, he could not, not with the dark, spiraling ram horns that jutted out on either side of his head.

“What are you?” You managed to squeak out as you began to crawl backwards, only to be halted as vines slithered out of the grass like snakes and constricted around your wrists and ankles. No matter how much you struggled and pulled though, they would not break.

“That’s a very good question Little Dove. But before we answer that, I think we should introduce ourselves first. You can call me Hizashi.” The blond says, his voice is soft and melodic and you feel yourself relax just a little bit before catching yourself and putting up your guard again.

The dark haired one gives you a different feeling all together when he flashes you a sultry smile and introduces himself as Shouta. His voice is deep and echoes in your ears and you are ashamed when you let out the tiniest of whimpers as you clench your thighs together.

They both smirk at that, as if they know exactly how your body is reacting.

“Now, what’s your name? We gave you ours, I think it’s only fair we receive yours in return.” One of them says, their voice dripping with honeyed words.

But when you go to open your mouth, the only sound to escape is an ear piercing scream as the fear you’d been feeling finally bubbles over and and consumes you.

The sound rings out for a split second before more vines erupt from the ground and wrap around your face, covering your mouth muffling anymore sounds you tried to make as you thrashed and struggled and cried for release.

“That certainly wasn’t very nice. And here we were being so cordial with you.” Shouta says as both he and Hizashi tower over you, their eyes racking up and down your form in a way that does nothing to hide what they are thinking about.

“I mean, we already know who you are and what your name is, but you still could have been polite enough to introduce yourself before you screamed like a banshee.” Hizashi says, his words doing little to soothe your already racing heart.

“But,” Shouta continues, his red eyes locking with yours. “if you can avoid screaming again and speak like a good girl, we’ll uncover your mouth. Can you do that for us? If not, then we’ll just leave you like this for however long we want.”

You nod your head frantically, you’re willing to do anything at this point to get out of this situation and you feel the vines immediately retract. You steel your nerves and do your best to control your voice when you speak next.

“P-Please l-let me go. I won’t come b-back, I s-swear, I d-don’t even know h-how I got here.” You sobbed quietly.

Your plea went completely ignored,

“Oh, my apologies.” Says Hizashi and you look up to see him holding a set of pan pipes. “That was my doing. We were eager to finally meet you so I just decided to get your attention with this. Did you enjoy the song (Y/N)? I composed it just special, just for you.”

“How do you know my n-name?”

Shouta knelt down and reached out to stroke your face, uncaring for how you turned your head and fought to get away from his touch.

“We’ve been watching you since you first moved here, it’s been so long since anyone interesting has lived in that cabin and we have been waiting for a chance to finally talk to you.” He smiled and again, you felt your libido spike as you clench your thighs together when a sudden wave of arousal clouded your senses.

“Ease up on the compulsion Shou, Save that shit for later.”

“Says the one that couldn’t wait to get her out here.”

They went back and forth like this for a bit before your fearful crying brought their attention back on you and they regarded you with more gentle expressions.

“It’s been a rather long night, so why don’t we just cut to the chase.” Hizashi said as he to, knelt down on your other side to join his counterpart. “We’re willing to let you go back to the cabin safe and sound Little Dove, but only if you’re willing to give us something in return.”

Something about his voice calms you down and you find yourself speaking before your brain has a chance to register what your mouth is saying, you’re so sleepy and all you want is to go back to bed and forget this craziness.

“Anything. Say it and it’s yours, just let me go.” Your tired eyes are wide and look back and forth between the two smirking creatures as you try and figure out what just happened, even as your mind becomes cloudy with sleep and you feel yourself drifting off against your will.

“Perfect.” They all but purr as both reach out, each taking a lock of your hair from the nape of your neck to braid and cut off with a knife that each passes to the other so they can retrieve their prize.

You don’t even have the energy anymore to feel frightened by the weapon or to ask why they took your hair of all things. All you can do is close your eyes and let their voices carry you deeper into a dreamless slumber.

“We’ll see you again very soon Kitten, there’s no getting away from us now.”

“We’re going to have so much fun, just you wait and see. We’ll take such good care of you.”

First chapter is done and out of the way! Hopefully the rest will come to me a bit easier. lol

I hope you all enjoy this newest story!

[davidcxrenswet]

“ i just want to hear your voice until i fall asleep … ”

He wasn’t present for most of the removal, and for good reason. If Mariana so much as shrieked or cried out once, he’d fight tooth and nail to stop the whole thing. Sure they had Bryce, a rugged brute, and Kaz the golden boy jock around, but Harvey was taller and quicker, and none of them would be able to hold him down. He’d stop the whole thing and drag Mariana away from there if she cried out for him to do so. So it was imperative he stayed away. He just didn’t get very far with that plan. Harvey had been pacing outside the house where they conducted the exorcism or whatever it was they were doing. He didn’t really know, and frankly he didn’t really care to know. The more details he had, the harder it would have been for him to be away. At the time he had only really understood a couple scattered facts: there was some shard inside Mariana which changed her genetic make up to the point that she needed to literally eat men in order to survive, the longer it was there the more feral she’d get, and that only the Murder Club could get it out of her. He didn’t like that last bit. No matter what, Harvey just didn’t trust that group of delinquents. And at that time he had to trust them with the most important person in his life.

It had nearly driven him mad, to the point where he just couldn’t stay away and finally gave into the urge to run to her. When he barreled down the stairs into the cellar where things were happening, he could only remember a handful of things. Mariana was chained down in the center of the room, her jaw unhinged in an inhuman way revealing rows of deadly sharp fangs. She didn’t look anything like the girl he cuddled up to almost nightly. It was hard to believe the flesh curling above those teeth were the lips he kissed so often. There was nothing recognizable in her frenzied eyes or shrieking voice. It was an image out of his worst nightmares, created from the girl of his dreams. He remembered the way his stomach flopped uncomfortably, the whirl of nausea that gripped him while his heart shattered at the sight. It was horrid and it was frightening and it gutted him to hear her scream like she did. Surely they were failing, there’s no way they could hold back that demonic thing. That’s what he thought, and it was probably true, but then there was a voice calling over the screaming and shouting — a voice Harvey thought may have been Violet Matthews but it had seemed unlikely. After all, none of them really cared if the former junior deputy didn’t survive this B-movie horror show they’d been dragged into — so whoever called out that staying this way could lead to his untimely demise was likely seeking the only trump card they could have against her in the situation.

The next events blurred together to the point where Harvey wasn’t sure exactly when they happened or how long it all took place, but eventually Mariana stopped fighting, and the whole weird ritual thing went on and a shard of glass was ripped out of her abdomen by some invisible force. It all happened so fast that whenever he tried to imagine it, he no longer felt scared of the memory. He was practically numb to it. What he recalled more clearly was Mariana passing out afterwards and everyone huddling close to her, until he’d shouldered past them, making his presence known, and carried her out of there. If any of them tried to protest, he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving her with them after all that — somehow he knew deep down she didn’t want to wake up surrounded by their concerned expressions and probing questions. So he took her away, back to the loft apartment he’d kept above the old church. She was out cold the entire time, and he’d worried momentarily when he’d deposited her on the bed that maybe he shouldn’t have moved her. It was too late, though.

She was there, tucked gently under the covers of his bed after he’d put her in clean clothes, snoozing silently against the pillow. He hadn't fully registered what was going on until Sassy had placed his head on the edge of the bed and whimpered at the girl. “Ssh, quiet buddy,” he hummed to the dog, scratching behind his ears. “She needs some rest.” And boy did she rest. Harvey thought she’d be asleep for maybe five to eight hours, at least the length of a regular sleep. Surely once the sunlight flooded through the skylight she’d be roused awake. He didn’t feel bothered when Sasquatch jumped onto the empty space beside Mariana and curled up to sleep, occasionally poking his head up to observe her in hopes she’d wake. When Harvey pulled a chair next to the bed, popping in one AirPod and pulling up an audiobook to keep himself occupied while he waited, he’d expected to only be sitting there for a few hours.

So when nearly sixteen hours had passed and Mariana was still asleep and he’d had the worst ache in his joints from leaning forward on his elbows and watching her with deeply worried eyes… Harvey just wasn’t sure what was going on. He was beginning to fear the worst: that somehow the exorcism or ritual those stupid kids did put his girlfriend in a coma. He wondered if he should rush her to the hospital but then what would he tell them? “My girlfriend was a man eating demon because someone literally shoved a piece of glass into her stomach but it’s okay some hooligans from school read some Latin out loud and got it out of her but then she passed out and hasn’t woken up in like more than half a day, so I’m not sure what’s wrong but I think she’s at least human again.” Her mother, the hospital nurse, would surely love to hear that ridiculous story about her daughter from a coworker. Before Mariana even woke up, they’d send Harvey to the loony bin and toss out the key.

He was beginning to fear the worst but then it had finally happened — she woke. He imagined that moment a lot when he’d been sitting there, alternating in between listening to Stephen Fry narrating Harry Potter or Weezer crooning alt rock. He imagined the sharp inhale when she woke, the way her eyes would slowly and hazily open, looking around the room and trying to piece together where she was until her gaze landed on her dutiful boyfriend brooding in the chair next to her bed. And he wouldn’t notice her until she’d speak up, her voice soft and tired. And then he would jolt awake and jump to the bed where he’d shower her in soft kisses and practically weep over how happy he was she was okay… the thought went hazy there but he assumed he’d go make her breakfast and she’d walk around feeling totally normal and okay, like a healthy and happy teenage girl just waking up on a lazy Saturday morning. Maybe they’d go for a drive, or head to Marie’s because certainly she’d be ravenous. Normal. He’d suspected she’d wake up normal. What he got was a little different. She definitely seemed tired, and a little disoriented, and when Sassy leaned his massive head over and gently licked her hand and curled into her side, well he suspected she must have been happy to see her two boys first thing waking up after that horrific night. He hoped she was happy. But there was this edge in the air, something that told him that something was off.

This only became apparent in the way Mariana had acted since waking up. She was fatigued, understandably, but she was also quiet and distant. While she seemed mostly physically okay, there was definitely something going on with her, mentally or emotionally, that didn’t seem okay. Harvey tried to figure out how to change whatever was amiss, but as usual Mariana didn’t open up right away to him. She kept herself a bit closed off, kept her feelings mostly concealed. So he’d focused on taking care of her in other more obvious ways. He cooked nutritious meals for her, foods to help her get her strength back, and monitored her hydration, urging her to drink often. He’d hovered by her whenever she got up to move, making sure she didn’t stumble. He’d made sure she was always comfortable, put on her favorite programs to give her something to occupy herself with. He’d even made sure a whole load of his t-shirts was washed and folded, ready for her to swap out since he knew she liked wearing his clothes while lounging about. He’d offered to take her on drives to get some fresh air, let Sassy occupy Harvey’s usual spot on the bed in case she wanted puppy cuddles — just about anything he could think of that would make her happy. But she barely responded to his actions. The only times he thought she really reached out to him were when she wanted to curl up against him. He’d caught her doing that when they slept side by side, Sasquatch banished to his own doggy bed so Harvey didn’t spend another extended period sleeping upright in a chair. They usually spooned when she’d slept over before but when they’d slept next to each other during her recovery Harvey had made it a point to give her space in case she was in any physical pain. But he’d wake up in the middle of the night to her curled up against his side and he’d shift over to wrap his arm around her. He knew when he was being asked to hold her, and he knew it was best to comply.

After a couple days, Harvey began to feel a little useless. Eventually she was tending to her own needs, taking care of feeding herself etc. He still felt that she was distant, and he’d yet to try and broach the topic of what happened. He wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk, and given that she didn’t bring up what happened herself he figured it was going to be some time before she gave any indication she wanted to speak about it. So he bit back the questions, the lingering concern of the after effects. They weren’t back to a normal routine yet, which made him think she wasn’t exactly back to normal herself. And given she didn’t give him any ideas as far as what she needed from him, he was beginning to worry. He recalled that moment she gave in to the shard removal, the suggestion that had been made by one of the Murder Club kids. You’ll hurt Harvey. If that was the thought that clicked with her, that led her to give up her demonic powers… He was beginning to think that maybe the reason she wasn’t opening up to him about what had happened was because deep down she blamed him for it. What if she didn’t want to give it up? She did give them a fight at the end there… What if she regretted giving it up? And if he was the reason she did do that… Did she resent him for it? He hated admitting he was an insecure man, but late at night when he was alone to his thoughts and she felt like she was pulling even further away from him… It was all he could think about. What if she hates me now? Deep down he knew it was a stupid thought, but she wasn’t giving him a reason to think otherwise.

When they laid down the next evening, Harvey carefully moving in closer to her while still maintaining space between them, he’d found he had enough tip toeing around her and to point blank ask her what she wanted from him. So as Mariana settled into her pillow, he turned to look straight at her and abruptly asked, “Do you want me to spoon you?” He watched her brows knit in response to his random outburst and so he continued speaking. “I mean… Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re sleeping against me and I realize when we go to bed I don’t, like, try to hold you or anything. I guess I’m asking if you want me to cuddle with you when we go to bed?” It felt so weird asking for clarification on something that was typically second nature for them. Dragging a hand through his curls, he slid his palm over his face and sighed deeply.

“I just… I don’t know what you need from me right now. Things have been kinda weird and I feel pretty nervous around you and I just… I’m worried I’m not giving you what you need right now. So I need you to tell me what it is that you need me to do, or want me to do to help you through whatever is going on in your head lately. I won’t push or ask you to open up to me if you’re not ready to do so. Even if you’re never ready… it’s fine, I’ll understand but I need you to tell me what I can do for you now to help make things okay again. I feel kinda useless which is fine most of the time but in the case of the girl I love, I - I just want to be able to do something for her. So please just… help me out a little. Give me something.” When she finally said something, Harvey was a bit surprised at what she said. He blinked a couple times before his gaze softened. He’d been an idiot. All this time he’d been working himself up feeling useless and he forgot one very simple fact about their relationship. Companionship. In its simplest form Mariana really just enjoyed his companionship. It took him a bit of time to realize that, pushing himself to the brink of insanity creating overly romantic moments filled with grand gestures when really all he needed to do was just be there and she seemed content.

Cheeks a bit pink with a slight blush, Harvey moved closer to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his chest, tangling his legs with hers under the covers as he weaved his fingers through her blonde hair. “You want to listen to me?” He asked quietly, awaiting her confirmation. “What should I do? Just say whatever? Tell a story or…?” His nerves were getting the better of him but he swallowed them back and cuddled her closer. She wasn’t asking for much, there was no sense complicating things. She probably just wanted to be held by her boyfriend and listen to his soft voice while she dozed off. How hard could that be? He pressed his lips to her forehead, and smiled when he swore she moved in closer. He could do this for her. He was pretty sure he’d do just about anything for her.

“Okay, I can talk. If that’s what you want, then I’ll just keep talking until you’re fast asleep. I, uh… I was looking at the calendar while cleaning the dishes earlier and I realized something. Prom is coming up. Yeah I started thinking about it, trying to remember where I packed my tux. You know, from things like debut. ‘A gentleman should always have a tuxedo in case the situation calls for it.’ That’s what Margaret used to say. Anyway, I started mentally tallying up the cost of everything. Limo, corsage… Thought that instead of taking you to the motel afterwards like a total cheapskate that we could ditch town and drive to the city and stay at a fancier place for a long weekend. Make a whole trip out of it. Didn’t you tell me that after prom it wasn’t a requirement to go to classes? I think you said that once. Like a year ago… Whoa, we’ve been dating for almost a year now. That’s pretty wild. I think after everything we’ve been through this year, we deserve to run off and ignore everyone for a few days.” He chuckled, “Not that I’m suggesting I should be your date to your Senior Prom. I mean I figured some of the football players and other guys in town will attempt to ask you, and I should at least give them the chance to try. We both know I can do a kickass promposal, but I’m kinda curious what the other kids in town may come up with. Who knows — Maybe one of them will woo you better than me. Then I can spend another prom night in my boxers watching Lord of the Rings. Just know it’d be your loss because I’m a great awkward slow dance partner. And I look good in a tux.”

Smiling, he pulled Mariana practically on top of him, curling both his arms around her and pressing kisses into her hair and onto her face. He wanted to give her some sense of normalcy, something that was a bit more like their usual routine. And cuddles and chaste kisses while he joked about prom and her many suitors seemed like a good start. A reminder that there was still so much to look forward to and that, shard or no shard, she was a gorgeous girl that boys tripped themselves over. She was still that girl that took his, and likely everyone’s, breath away.

“Whatever happens, just promise me this — no truth or dare with random kids you don’t recognize, okay?”

@karolinadeanwrites