#it’s more I don’t like how any of the ex trial bows look from like stormblood and on

[impossible-rat-babies]

i am standing by how there hasn’t been a good looking bow in ffxiv in years

[kittystargen3]

Summary: Alternate Universe- What if Anakin's mother survived and Anakin never went dark side. Padme has the twins on Tatooine and survives. Anakin tries to help the surviving Jedi, while still keeping his family secret. Meanwhile Darth Sidious has been crowned emperor and is going after the remaining Jedi. Rumors have it he's looking for a new apprentice. Anakin gets to be a daddy.

Today I published another chapter of Return of the Survivors. Below is a small selection. Go to a link above to read more.

Chapter 94 - How to Kill a Sith

Anakin looked up from his desk and pressed a few buttons to dial a comm.  “Youlao here.  Greetings Master Skywalker, how is your family?”  

“They are well, Master Youlao, and yours?” Anakin bowed his head towards the holo in greeting.  In the old days it would have been very unusual to greet a Jedi in this way, but lately it was becoming almost taboo not to.  

“All are well, Master Skywalker.  My youngest is taking the trials in a few months.”  Master Youlao responded.

“She will do well, I’m sure.” Anakin nodded.  “And how is your task going?”

“It’s go-ing,” she said.  “Look, at this point we have had very minor breakthroughs.  She said two words to me today.  ‘Get stuffed.’ Which normally doesn’t sound like a breakthrough, but when the alternative is complete silence.” She shrugged.

“Would it help if I sent Ahsoka to you?  I understand she was a bit more talkative in her initial interrogation.”  Anakin offered.

“No, I’m afraid she would be just as stubborn, no matter who was asking her the questions.  If you could, ask Master Tano if she knows what methods they used to precipitate Barris Offee’s fall.”

“Methods, does that matter?” Anakin scribbled a note to himself.  

“Oh, it matters quite a lot,” Youlao responded.  

Anakin looked surprised at her.  He was used to the Jedi treating everything as either Dark or Light, and Yoda’s philosophy of how a foot in the dark side is a foot lost to you.  He was expecting the healers he brought in to share that mindset. 

“It matters how we treat the patient.  If it was torture, for instance, there will be triggers we’ll need to avoid.  And if the Force was used, we’d need to replicate the opposite technique if  there is any hope to bring her back…”

“Wait.  Bring her back.  You really think it might be possible?”  

Youlao winced.  “Probably not in any way you are thinking.  We might be able to get her to stabilize briefly to allow for the healing.  Usually such methods are used when the Jedi wanted to interrogate a subject.  Otherwise we’ll have to use an intense flood of light, and it’s rather like a drug at that level.”  

Anakin nodded.  “At the end of the war, Ex Knight Offee was being held in a republic prison for her deeds.  The bombing-”  Anakin looked up and saw the Master nod.  He didn’t want to go into what had happened, and when she recognized it he moved on.  “I don’t believe she had fallen completely at that point.  I mean, she was teetering, but she didn’t actively use the dark side.  She said a lot about the War being un-jedi like and how we were all becoming killers.  She was angry and unstable, I don’t think it would take a lot to push her over the edge.”  Anakin summarized.  He himself never saw any but the first interrogations.  Obi-Wan had been worried Anakin was too unstable to witness it, after Ahsoka left.  And the Master was probably right.  But that didn’t stop him from getting summaries from those knights who did talk to her.

Youlao tapped the sides of her datapad.  “I think it probably took more effort than you’d assume.  Reading the Rebellion’s records,  initially inquisitors were less trained and more sloppy.  It took nearly four years for them to get to the terrors they are now.”  

“Four years of torture, you mean?”  

“It’s certainly possible.”

Anakin nodded serenely.  

“I’ll keep you updated on our progress.”  Master Youlao bowed again.  

“Yes, please do.”  Anakin returned.  “I’ll ask Ahsoka about Barris and tell you if she has any ideas.”  He hoped they did have some luck.  It would be great to be able to shut up a couple of Force Ghosts with some good news for once, but he didn’t say so out loud...    

[forthehpfanboys]

Hi can you do a can a hc of Victor Krum x Hufflepuff male reader

Ok, ok, yes. Yes please. Yup. Please ignore me pretending I know anything about his character. I just got the fourth book and I'm trying-

Part 2

§×§×§ §×§×§ §×§×§

Let's be honest, you two met at Hogwarts during the TriWizard Tournament.

Well, not during it. You guys officially met before the games even started, but his school was there for it.

So, you'd probably bumped into bum in the halls or something and he brushed off the small butterfly in his gut and said it was no big deal.

But like there was a moment when he developed a little crush for you.

It was one of those moments where like you were sitting on a rock by the Black Lake and he was pacing and he was doin' his work out thingy and his eyes land on you when he's walking by and he's like

"OOP, a CUTIE-" and he walks over to the rock and his fangirls are like "NONONONO-"

But it's too late, he's already next to you.

And of course your nervous, he's a fAMOUS QUIDDITCH PLAYER AND HE'S NEXT TO YOU

And he's tall, dark and handsome, so 👀

Ok, but when he makes you blush, he's feeling gitty inside. Probably starts speaking Bulgarian souly out of excitement.

We all know the fangirls end up shipping you two.

And it doesn't take long for Krum to realize you sat on that rock every time you wanted to study.

So he stops by almost every day just to chat with you.

Adventually, you start opening up to him slowly and getting to know him and he gets to know you.

Viktor realizes your so smart and he's just like "He's cute AND a genius?!!"

You literally blow him away.

He wants to be able to give you his address or letter thingy so you guys can write all the time because he needs it in his life.

But first he has to get to know you.

So he does that. He notices the little things, too.

He sits beside you on the rock, and helps you study, when he knows how to help you in that particular subject.

You guys play like twenty questions.

He asks about your hobbies, you ask about what classes he takes, he asks about your favorite color, you ask about his favorite broom trick.

It's honestly so cute though because when you guys realize you have common favorites, you forget about studying and just talk about those favorites.

And somehow it comes to your favorite subject and your just like going off and your smiling, talking with your hands, your loud and he's just looking at you like "W O W"

Viktor probably doesn't understand much about the subject, but he loves seeing you like this.

And you're like "I HATE THIS ONE THING. IT'S DUMB, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN??" and he's like "yES. IT'S DUMB AND STUPID."

But in reality, he's just staring at your sparkling eyes and thinking "Ah, yes, I am clueless........................... He's adorable, tho."

Other than that? His head is empty while you talk.

You're voice is like music to him, especially because of your accent. He just can not get enough.

Viktor tries to get you to tell him stories just so you ramble and get off topic.

He's smitten over you, it's quiet simple.

He can and will show off during the TriWizard Tournament tho.

He dedicates his win against the dragon to you.

HIM ASKING YOU TO HELP HIM FIGURE OUT TOURNAMENT TWO-

He gives you the egg as a gift after you figure it out. He honestly doesn't care if he's even allowed to take it home or not, it's yours now and you will have to go through him to get it from you.

Like he'll wink at you from whatever he's doing and maybe do a little flex, especially during the second trial.

Honestly, he probably looked for you during the second trial to find you but you were in the Black Lake.

He DEFINITELY kisses your head while wrapping the towel around your shoulders. He spends his time gently drying your hair while everyone is excited and screaming around you.

Like yeah, he's happy he did it, but he's relieved your safe. He probably officially falls in love with you when you look at him with like big, innocent eyes and say thank you.

And that's when be tries to ask you on a date but you can't hear him over the screaming crowds.

Naturally though, he's very, very careful and protective of you after the whole lake thing.

I feel like he gives some of the best hugs.

I don't know why. He gives the best hugs and head pats.

HE'S THE TYPE OF HUGGER THAT GIVES YOU A LITTLE SQUEEZE THEN LETS GO.

He probably asks you to the dance and then asks you out at said dance.

Take him to Hogsmead. I feel like he'd enjoy it. Take him to the Quidditch shop. Do it. Watch him brag about his broom and then fluster himself by knocking over a stack of books or something.

Please. You guys'll be walking down the halls together and like bump shoulders and your hands will brush against each other and you'll blush and he'll smile and you guys act like nothing happened.

But he will ask you out to the ball.

And it's probably sudden, too.

Like you guys are eating breakfast together and he just blurts it out and you almost choke and die on pumpkin juice and he just smiles and chuckles while patting your back.

"Please don't die, I'd love an answer to my question." "I-I'm sorry, what was the question again?" "Would you like be my date to the dance?" "S-.. Sure! Yes."

He bows to you at the dance and asks for your hand. Definitely kisses your knuckles too.

He IMMEDIATELY compliments your suit/tux fuck it, dress, whatever you wore, dude. You do you. He loved it though and he thinks you look amazing.

Thinks your outfit is adorable and will not stop repeating it.

The color of your suit? His new favorite color.

But his new favorite colors are also: your eye color, your hair color, your skin color, your favorite color-

It's a whole list.

You're just his favorite.

He tries to spend like every day with you until he has to leave.

He writes to you first and it's something so sickeningly sweet you hang it up in your dorm room.

He can and will give you tickets to his games. Shows you off to his team mates.

STOPS BY HOGWARTS TO SEE YOUR QUIDDITCH GAMES IF YOU PLAY-

YOU GUYS PLAYING TOGETHER ON THE FIELD.

Him giving you pointers on your broom so you guys are sharing one and his chest is against your back and his hands are over yours like in those muggle movies with the couples clay classes or whatever-

Just you two playing quidditch.

Please.

He let's you win, if you arne't used to playing. But if your on the Hogwarts team, you better be ready to fucking go.

And if your totally uncomfortable on a broom, he will teach you (once again, sitting behind you on the broom, hands over yours blah blah clay), and it's like 2 feet off the ground and he's holding you close to you don't fall or go any higher.

I didn't know I needed this until now-

Just kinda realized I didn't focus too much on the Hufflepuff aspect of the request, so I'm gonna add some more so here we go.

People joking about how every Hufflepuff has a Slytherin and how you definitely have one and he's like "... Who are they? I'll fight them. Give me their names-"

Krum losing it when you give him a special gift from your collection (ex: rocks, flower petals, stuffed animals).

If you make him a friendship bracelet, he will NOT take it off.

Give him a flower crown and he's making you one. Fight me.

This man lacks any toxic masculinity. He can and will wear jewelry you make him.

Him relaxing in the Hufflepuff Common Room and just enjoying the softness and everything. Just everything. He loves it all.

He loves messing up your tie and laughs when you smack his hands away and frantically try to fix it.

He loves pulling you into a kiss by your tie or your rob's and, once again, messing them up so your shaky hands have to do it.

He loves flustering you.

CALLS YOU "PUFFIE" WHEN YOU GET ANGRY

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 10

*Author’s note*

And here we are with the next chapter of Robin and Gale Hood guys. Now I’m thinking after I post up chap. 11 it’s either gonna be 2-3 more chapters after that idk I haven’t quite figured that part out yet, but hopefully soon I’ll have the next chapter up :) Also for King Richard I’m imagining a late 80′s early 90′s Roger Taylor look. 

Warnings: extreme swearing C word is used here (and no I’m not meaning the other word for balls or a rooster), attempted murder, severe injury.

Chapter 10,

Return of the King

Taglist:

@simonedk​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@queendeakyy​

@wormzteef​

@sparkleslightlyy​

@geek-and-proud​

_________________________________________________________

“It can’t be……” Robin muttered.

“But it is.” Little John said as a smile spread across his face.

“Uncle Richard!” Marian proclaimed.  All went quiet as the people cleared a path and slowly riding on top of his magnificent dark brown armored covered shire horse was King Richard himself.

Much like his son Prince James, king Richard was a handsome man. Piercing blue eyes that resembled the great ocean, hair still having a tint of blonde (but not as much as it did when he was younger), he wore a golden suit of armor with a lion crest at the center piece of his uniform, and a large sword sat at his side.

Looking at this middle aged man you could see that he was a true king.  There was just this regalness about him, like a true lion.

As he walked forward towards the gallows, the people of Nottingham all bowed before him, even the Sheriff’s guards bowed before him. When he reached the gallows, the Sheriff, Sir Heston and Prince John all stared at him in shock.

“Richard, I—I did not expect you to…….” Prince John started but Richard snarled as he pointed at him.

“I’ll deal with you later.”  Immediately Prince John coward to his knees as Richard’s eyes now turned to the Sheriff. “Now I ask again Sheriff, what is the meaning of all this?”

“A witch trial, your majesty.” He looked up towards his son who was protecting the so called ‘witch’ by shielding her with his own body.

“Were you willing to take my son along with her?”

“That was never my intention your majesty. I would never harm the future King.” The Sheriff tried to save his own hide by acting innocent.

King Richard spoke not a word as he dismounted from his horse onto the stage.  He walked past the Sheriff and stood before his son.  The two look-alikes stared at each other as Richard told his son.

“James, stand aside.”

“I won’t!”

“I know how you feel about these trials, but it is the law son.”

“I don’t care! She’s not a witch.”

“And how do you know that exactly?”

“Because this is the girl I fell in love with six years ago. The girl who’s always been on my mind even as you sent me away to London with Marian.” Richard’s eyes softly widened and he said.

“This is the girl? The one that broke your heart?”

“Yes. But that’s in the past now. Because I love her father.” All was silent in the village square.

“Your majesty. It’s clear that for six years your son has been under this witch’s spell, and…….” The Sheriff spoke into the King’s ear.

“Another word out of you and I’ll cut off your forked tongue!” Prince James threatened.

“How dare you speak to me……”

“And how dare you treat my son that way! Remember your place Sheriff!” The Sheriff backed off glaring at the young prince.

“Look around at what these two have done. They’ve oppressed the people and nearly killed an innocent woman without a proper trial. And she’s not just any ordinary woman. Her name is Gale Hood, sister of Robin Hood.”

James turned back towards Gale and pressed his forehead to hers as he wrapped his hand around the back of her head cradling it away from the stake.

“Together along with their friends, they’ve kept Nottingham from falling to ruins. Father would you willingly kill a hero of the people?” King Richard looked down at his people.

All of them looking up to their king, pleading for this execution to not happen.  He then turned to see his niece locked up in a cage along with Robin Hood and his band giving him the same look.  Finally he turned back to his son who held a fire in his eyes.  A fire that was passionate about his beliefs and words.

Much like his late wife Queen Dominque.

King Richard withdrew his sword.  Everyone waiting on bated breath on what would happen next, but to everyone’s surprise he held his sword in a surrender position.

“My son speaks with the wisdom beyond his years. When I returned to my kingdom I’ve seen anger and prejudice in my staff’s hearts. But he comes with courage and understanding. From this day forward; if there is to anymore killing, it will not start with my rein.” He placed his sword back into its saber.

He then turned to one of the guards down below and ordered him to release Gale and her friends as well as his niece.

The guard raced up and cut Gale from the stake and as soon as she was freed, James took her in his arms, spun her around and the two embraced each other tightly.  The people of Nottingham all cheered for the renouncing claim of Gale’s blood.

Prince John couldn’t believe this and neither could the Sheriff.

“Do something you fool!” whispered Prince John harshly. The Sheriff glared at the prince and said to one of his loyal guards.

“Shoot them all down.”

“No.” the man said.

“What?”

“With King Richard back, we no longer follow you.”

“You’re insane. I gave you this position! You follow and obey me!” but none of his guards obeyed him.  Only gathered around and dropped their bows at his feet.

Twitching his eye in anger he grabbed one of the crossbows and notched an arrow as he snarled.

“Fine. You won’t serve me so long as Richard is alive will you?” he aimed the crossbow right for King Richard’s head.

Gale looked towards the Sheriff and saw him getting ready to shoot at the King.  She immediately got out of James’ embrace and cried out.

“NOOO!!!” she pushed King Richard out of the way, taking the arrow just above her right breast.

“GALE!!!!” Robin called from the ground.  As Gale collapsed to the ground with the arrow in her chest, James knelt down beside her and held her in his arms.

The Sheriff’s eyes widened as one of his ex-guards snarled out.

“You shot the Prince’s love.”

“She-she stepped right…right into it. It was her own fault! Prince John! Heston! Tell them it wasn’t my fault!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I begged you not to kill her.” John shrugged nonchalantly.

“Prince James and Maid Marian were right all along!”

“We never should’ve believed either of you!”

“GET THEM!!” the three then tried to make a quick get away from the guards but all too quickly the people of Nottingham got to them and began to tear right through them angrily.

“UNHAND ME YOU FILTHY PEASANTS!!” the Sheriff exclaimed. He soon had the crossbow taken from him as Maid Marian stood over him and she proclaimed.

“Put them all in chains!”

“I’ll see you hanged for this you cunt!” the Sheriff growled.

“And sew this one’s mouth shut!” Marian said as amongst the people of Nottingham, the guards pulled the Sheriff away from Marian’s face.

Her pride soon turned back to fear as she raced up to join Robin, his friends, Arthur, James, Friar Tuck and her uncle up on the gallows to check on Gale.

Both James and Robin knelt down at Gale’s side each of them holding her hand.  Friar Tuck and King Richard knelt down beside her head.  Friar Tuck wiping her forehead as she kept hissing and groaning in pain.

“Sister, please just hold on. We’re going to get you help. Oh Friar Tuck please tell me she’ll be okay!” pleaded Robin.

“She’s a fighter, but I am no doctor Robin. All I can do is pray to the good Father that he’ll spare our beloved Gale.”

“Isn’t there any medical supplies your staff can use?” Little John asked.

“We have some but nothing that Gale needs. If we are to save her, she needs to go to London. There we might have a chance to save her.” Arthur said.

“Then prepare the royal carriages. Make sure we hook up the fastest horses we’ve got. There will be no stopping till we reach London.” King Richard said.

Within minutes the royal carriage was prepped and ready. Gale now lying on a small portable bedspread.  The blanket covering up her bare body so that the arrow was the only thing being shown.

James came up and knelt down beside his love and took her hand in his.  He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and he told her.

“You’re gonna be alright my love. I promise. Just stay awake for me.”

“I’ve had worse than this.” Gale told him before hissing in pain.

“Try not to speak so much my love.” Robin soon came up and walked towards them.  James kissed her hand before gently placing it down and walked away giving the two siblings some alone time.  Robin knelt down beside his sister and stroked her cheek.

“You are either the single bravest woman I’ve ever seen. Or the craziest.”

“I learned from the best, brother.” Gale grinned weakly. “Will—will you come with me?” at that point Robin’s face grew solemn.  He felt his sister’s hand touch his cheek and he said.

“Someone has to stay here and help rebuild Nottingham. Marian and I have elected to do just that.”

“Then……so will I.”

“No sister. You have to go to London.”

“But—but we promised each other we wouldn’t leave one another.” Gale said with tears in her eyes.

“And we never will. No matter what happens, I’ll always be with you. Just like you will with me. And—just like our mother always has.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his sister’s forehead.

He lingered on the kiss till he finally separated from her. The two siblings looking at each other teary eyed, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time they ever see each other again.  As two of King Richard’s guards picked up the bed, Robin and Gale’s hands kept hold of each other till the distance finally forced them apart.

She was placed in the royal carriage with King Richard and Prince James.

“Godspeed Gale Hood.” Friar Tuck said as he gave his final prayer to Gale.  The curtains closed around the royal coach and the coachman urged the horses onward and in a cloud of dust, the royal coach rode out of Nottingham straight to London.

The royal escorts rode up front to show that this was a dire emergency and that anyone on the path ahead needed to clear the way for the King.

Inside the coach, James kept his hand intwined with Gale’s, stroking the back of it and giving it a kiss every now and then.  King Richard, who had been observing his son’s affections for the young female rouge, finally spoke to Gale.

“Answer me this child. Why did you take that arrow for me? Knowing you could die.”

“Father, Gale can’t……”

“I can speak James, just—not in so many words.” She then turned to the great King and replied. “People always do crazy things—when they’re in love.” Her eyes then shifted towards James who looked down at her with sad but loving eyes.  Tears pooling behind his green orbs as he pressed her hand against his cheek. Richard reached his hand out and gently placed it on top of Gale’s head, softly stroking through her raven black hair.

“You’ll get the finest medical treatment London has to offer. I swear to you. England, my son, and I owe you a great debt Gale Hood.” Gale smiled tiredly before feeling the fever starting to take affect on her as she soon passed out.

James’ heart suddenly stopped as he looked down at his beloved in fear.  He felt her forehead and winced at the sudden heat that radiated from her.

“She’s burning up father!” Richard reached for a bowl of water and a towel.

“Dab her lightly around her forehead and collarbone. It’ll have to do for now till we get to London.” James took the rag and wrung it out first before placing it onto her face.

“I can’t lose her. Not when I just got her back. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her again.” he wept as he continued to dab his beloved’s face with the damp cloth.  Richard stared at his son with empathy.

He knew what his son was going through because he once went through that when he lost his beloved Queen years ago.  That familiar feeling of heartbreak fearing that your soulmate will leave this world leaving you alone in this dark hell that was the living realm.  Leaving nothing but pain and heartbreak in the wake of their death.

“Step on it will yah! Gale’s fever is spiking and we don’t have much time! Double time!” Richard banged on the roof of the royal coach, crying out to the coachman.  He then turned to his son and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I can promise you this my son. We will do all that we can to save your beloved. But you have to be strong for not only yourself, but for her.”

“Yes father.” Richard pressed his forehead against his son’s and the two of them stayed in that position for a moment before turning their attention back to Gale.

It took almost an entire day but just a few hours before dawn, the royal escort finally arrived at the heart of London.  The horses charged through the gates of the castle that stood at the heart of the city and with no time to waste, Gale was brought in and taken to the medical wing.

She was now awake for a brief moment as a doctor was prepping to first remove the arrow from her chest before proceeding to heal the actual wound itself.

James was forced to wait outside because he vowed that he wouldn’t leave his love’s side for even a second.  Even if he was forbidden to enter the room, he still wanted to be there for Gale.

Inside the room, the doctor had candles lite all over the room so that he could have the perfect lighting for what he needed to do.  He first numbed the area with some oils and turned to Gale and said to her.

“The area’s sterilized. Now comes the hard and most agonizing part. Are you ready?” Gale nodded then the doctor took out a towel and Gale opened her mouth so that he could place the towel in her mouth to prevent her from getting lockjaw.  Gale’s chest anxiously rose and fell at a heavy pace as the doctor reached out for the arrow and took hold of it.

Soon all that could be heard was a muffled but agonizing scream.

James covered his mouth with his hand, feeling his love’s pain almost as if it were his own.  All he could hear was her agonizing screams and groans coming from the other side of the door.

As the sun began to rise, Gale’s screams and groans went silent.

[hitsuackerman]

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.2

Here is part 2 of WINTW? :D Enjoy!

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi​ @oikawalmart-hq​ @extrasugafree​ @bbykiyoomi​ @apricotjihyo​ @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk 

links: part 1

It had been a week since you found yourself stranded in practically another dimension. The research bore very little fruit and you were sure that you were stuck in this situation. But, the feeling of not having to be cautious of the League of Villains or Yakuza was something you loved. Heck, you even decided to buy a house plant to make sure you could still practice your quirk.

It had been a few days since you agreed to become a trial manager to the volleyball club. Everything was going smoothly till a faulty chance ball was now aiming towards you. With no option to use your quirk, your mind went blank as your feet turned to stone. Yet the ball never made contact.

How did you end up here in the first place?

Oh right. Now you remember.

During the weekend, you told your other-mother that you would be taking a trip down memory lane. When asked where you planned on going, she was not expecting your answer to be your supposed previous school. Still, she simply nodded and prayed for your safety.

The teacher wasn’t kidding when she said it was far. It practically took 2 hours to reach Musutafu. Even then, things were still different. There were no high rise buildings with fancy floating signages, no agencies, and no sign of small time criminals wasting their time. Your heart sunk even more when the sight of the UA building was different. The four connected buildings were replaced with a modern looking academy. Similar to Fukurodani.

Showing your old ID, the guard let you enter.

In theory, your classroom should be on the 2nd floor. Luckily, it was the weekend so only those with supplementary classes were present. When you saw the small 2-A, you carefully peaked through the crack on the door to see if anybody was present. Judging by how the students were seated on their desks, it was safe to fully open the doors.

“(y/n)?!” The face ever present in your social media posts. Akiko. That was definitely her. Black hair, chubby, and a smile that could rival Deku’s, it pained how you knew nothing of her. “Oh my gosh! You’re actually here!”

“Couldn’t resist not visiting you two~” Safe response.

“How are things at your new academy?” Asami. Light brown hair, small voice, but definitely pretty was the one who spoke next. “Fukurodani right?”

Sitting on the desk beside Akiko, you huffed and wondered if the way you were acting was similar to how they were used to. Judging by their eager faces, it was safe to assume that you were doing things right. Maybe being yourself wasn’t too scary. Opting not to let your guard down, you merely shrugged.

“The week’s been unique.” It really was. “The subjects aren’t too far off from what we have here. And I got a flier from a 3rd year. Said something about being a manager for some club. Volleyball, I think.”

If there was one thing your dimension didn’t have, it was quirkless sports. Of course normal sports existed but living in a world where the majority possessed quirks, it would be a lie if you said you remembered the last time you played a sport for real.

“Never knew you were into sports, (y/n)...” Akiko commented as she rested her chin on her palm.

“She’s probably in it for the guys.” Asami teased and nudged your elbow. “The Owls are rather strong in the Japanese volleyball world. Have you seen their captain? I heard he’s a wild one.”

“In the sheets or on the court?” You clapped back.

“Oooh now we’re going somewhere!” The light brown hair girl seemed to enjoy gossip about boys. “Do tell us when you see him! I heard he’s as beefy as wagyu can get.”

“Ew.” If there was a beefy person in your mind, it would have to be All Might. Yet the mere thought of adoring his muscles made you want to gag. Still, being with these two women was quite fun despite only knowing them for a couple of minutes. “I’ll video call. After class.”

“So how’s you and Toshi?”

Toshi? Who the hell is Toshi? This person was not in any of your accessible socials or even messages. Not sure what to do, you looked away.

“Mimi.” Akiko quietly scolded your new friend. “Don’t remind her.”

Oh gods was this… It would definitely make sense. Whoever this Toshi was only meant that he was an ex. Damn it all for making things more complicated. Thinking that you should play dumb, you huffed and pouted.

“I have no idea who that Toshi is.”

“Can’t blame you though. It was almost as if he adored the sport more than you.” Asami nodded as she thought out loud. “Plus it was quite a bit of a shocker that you two were seeing each other. Damn those men at Shiratorizawa.”

Shira-what? Why were school names so complicated in this prefecture?

“Damn them indeed.” Standing up, you glanced at your watch and decided it was time for the long trip back home. “Anyway, I’ll call you two tomorrow since it’ll be my first day as a trial manager.”

“Always go for the setter, (y/n).” Akiko teased before you closed the door on her.

And that’s where you found yourself now. Arms crossed out in front of you in a lame attempt to shield yourself from a chance ball they failed to get inside the court. Yet the game must continue and the player whose jersey number was 5 seemingly protected you.

Sure you found Todoroki Shoto hot. Katsuki was definitely high up there too. Kirishima and his manliness? Plus points. But the sight of a quirkless volleyball athlete, whose toned stomach peaked through his shirt as he floated in air to toss the ball back to his spiker was something else. The way he landed smoothly and ran back to the battle field made your jaw drop.

“You’ll have to get used to that.” Yukie whispered as she watched you gawking at the setter. “These boys just love the sport.”

Her words flowed in and out of your ears. That was Akaashi. No doubt. There was no mistaking the same gunmetal blue eyes that met yours during  the first day of your class.

“HEY! HEY! HEY!” The salt and pepper player exclaimed. His fists pumping the air as he radiated happiness. “D’yu see that spike Aghaashi?! Pretty cool right? Right?”

“It was amazing, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi replied with a deadpan face.

Aghaashi? If he was allowing that hyper 18 year old to call him that, they must be close. Your thoughts were cut when the group of men approached you and Yukie. Even in this world you were surrounded by freakishly tall men.

“So whatcha think, (y/n)-chan?” Bokuto asked as he wiped his forehead. His chest still heaving from the game. Asami wasn’t kidding when she said beefy. If anything, he really was a meal. But, your eyes lingered more on the person beside him.

“That was pretty intense~” You had to admit. Seeing a sport without the usage of quirks was rather thrilling. “I might take up the offer, Bokuto-senpai~”

“YOSHH!!” It looked as if he was about to tackle you into a hug but once again, no.5 was there to the rescue.

“Don’t forget that you’re still sweating, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi scolded the captain whose face contorted into one with sadness. Bowing as an apology, you shrugged it off. Being hugged by sweaty men was nothing new. You would have to blame Kiri and Denki for that. “Are you alright? The ball almost hit you awhile ago.”

‘With the view you gave me? Hell yeah.’ Shaking the thoughts away, you simply shrugged and smirked.

“It’s all part of the game. My reflexes were off so, it’s all fair.”

“In that case, I look forward to your decision, (l/n)-san.” He bowed and tailed the rest of the group towards the locker room. His features showing nothing as his senpai teased him about how the both of you knew each other.

“No need to worry about the captain.” Kaori assured you. A gentle smile resting on her freckled face. “He’s like a 10 year old, honestly. But, Akaashi-san is there to tame him so, it’s all balanced.”

‘I’ve handled an exploding pomeranian. An owl would be much easier.’ Smirking at your thoughts, the two girls ushered you towards the bench where you were to sign some club papers. Once your signature was printed, the two of them formally welcomed you to the small nest.

Now that practice was over, the team had just finished mopping the floors while a few of them still kept tossing on the other court. Picking up the balls, you wondered how exact their estimations had to be to score. Picturing how Bokuto managed to hit the ball just inches away from the line showed his control over physics.

“(y/n)-chan!” You turned around to be met by golden eyes and an inviting hand. “Why not show us what you got!”

“You don’t really have to, (l/n)-san.” Akaashi spoke up as well. In his hands rested a ball. His eyebrows jerked when he saw a playful smirk on your face.

“I may be small but I ain’t that weak, Akaashi-san~” It was not intended but your tone was rather flirty and you were not sure how you felt about that. In some strange way, Mineta was rubbing off on you. Damn. You needed to spend more time with Yaomomo. “I’m not really good at it though.”

“D’yu know the basics?” Bokuto asked with such a giddy expression. When you nodded, he stole a teasing look at his childhood friend. “You think you can spike baby owl?”

“I guess if you show me, I can attempt.” Replaying the amount of times you used your quirk, there was probably enough juice for you to manipulate matter around you to land a spike. If this was a chance to practice whatever was left of your quirk, so be it.

“ALRIGHT!” Bokuto jumped as he readied himself. “Akashi! Toss to me!”

“It’s ‘Akaashi’ Bokuto-san.” He met your eyes. “Would you mind throwing the ball up for me?”

“Not at all~” Because he was beside you, he handed you the ball. The moment your fingertips touched his, your breath hitched. It must have been your hormones but you felt an electrical spark. You could feel the heat traveling to your cheeks as well. “Just, uh, give me a sign.”

When Bokuto gave him the go signal, he faced you and nodded. Tossing the ball in his direction, you watched as his eyes followed the floating ball. Almost delicately, the ball landed on his fingertips and immediately tossed it back to his captain. It was quick but the next thing you heard was the sound of the ball hitting the floor.

“That’s how it’s done, baby owl!” Bokuto gave you a thumbs up. “Your turn!”

Heading to his starting point, you focused all of your quirk to your arms and feet. Regulating your quirk was nothing new so the faint glow was nothing to be too worried about. Besides, the gym’s hideous lighting was enough to cover it up. Was this considered cheating? Probably. Not like they knew about quirks anyway~

Giving Akaashi the signal, he waited for Bokuto to toss him the ball. For half a second, he stared as to where you were heading and just how high were you willing to jump. Upon realizing that you were attempting to jump as high as his senpai, he obliged and tossed it with the same amount of strength and precision he usually gives for Bokuto.

With the help of your quirk, the people in the gym felt as if you were floating on air before hitting the ball. The form you held was outstanding and the way the ball bounced off the ground till it hit the school’s logo was impressive.

“WAAAH?!!!” Bokuto practically grabbed Akaashi by his arm and dragged him all the way to you. “DO YOU PLAY? WAS THAT YOUR FIRST TIME? THAT WAS HELLA AWESOME BABY OWL!”

“He’s right.” Akaashi finally pulled himself free from his friend and fixed his shirt. “Who taught you?”

Knowing the perfect reason, you smiled. If Shiratorizawa was as famous as they were, it would be quite interesting to see their reaction.

“My ex taught me.” Gods that sounded weird, even for you.

“Ehhh? Your ex must be good if he managed to teach you that spike~” Bokuto thought out loud. “What school does he go to, (y/n)-chan?”

“Shiratorizawa.” This was getting all too funny. You were never an actress but the way you handled the situation was something you would never forget. The audible gasps of everyone in the room was fun and worth it. “I don’t talk to him anymore, though.”

“Who?” One of the third years asked.

“Ushijima.” You were more than thankful you took the time to painstakingly research all about this unknown ex.

“USHIWAKA?!” The two managers exclaimed in unison.

“Yeah. But it didn’t really last long.” And you had no idea why. “Differences were too much, I guess.”

“Why weren’t there any pictures of the both of you?” Koari asked. Her eyes wide with curiosity and cheeks tainted pink at the new found information.

“Ya’ll know how he is. He wasn’t the type to just take selfies or shit.” Was this really the reason though? You didn’t even have his number anymore. If you had known you dated a volleyball celebrity, you never would’ve took the managerial offer. Still, you would have to give credit where credit was somewhat due. “He was sweet though. I’ll have to admit.”

“How long were you guys an item, (y/n)-chan?” Bokuto asked, his arm now draped on Akaashi’s shoulder.

“Probably a few weeks at most.” That was the safest answer you could go for. Curse your ‘emotions’ for having to delete every single information you had on this Ushijima guy. Still, you were thankful for the break up otherwise things would have been a bit more awkward. “But, ey, the past is past.”

“Who would’ve known baby owl’s type was the likes of Ushiwaka~”

Stoic guys were no big deal knowing Todoroki was there to train you. And it’s not like the people in this world had severe background issues. In a way, it made you happy knowing none of these people experienced what heroes go through.

When the gym was now closed, you were now walking the streets. It still did not sink in. The reality of being in a different dimension with no one knowing who you were. You had already made a few friends and acquaintances here and there but the feeling of emptiness still lingered.

Staring at your palm, you activated your quirk just to see if the amount you used had been milked dry. Surprisingly, a small tug was still there along with a barely visible glow. Placing your hand in your pocket, you let your thoughts wander once more.

Passing by a convenience store, you decided it was time for you to build a deeper foundation with your other-mother. Entering, you searched for the chocolates aisle. The selection was nothing like you’ve seen before. Different labels with unheard of brands littered the shelves. You recalled your other-mother eating a piece but the wrapper had already been discarded.

“Great. Not even the fucking chocolates are the same here.” You complained to yourself.

“You have different chocolates in Musutafu?”

Oh shit.

Looking at the source of the familiar voice, your fingers felt numb and you could feel the heat traveling to your cheeks again. Putting your hand in your pocket, you activated your quirk and felt relaxed once more.

“Uh, somewhat?” Why did this man who smelled a bit of sweat and deodorant have to be so beautiful? He could definitely rival Tododorky in your opinion. But, you digress. Both Todoroki and Akaashi were beautiful in their own way. “Just some unfamiliar brands.”

“Do you need help in choosing, (l/n)-san?” Akaashi asked as he took one bar and read the ingredients.

“What chocolates do mother’s like?”

“If she isn’t fond of overly sweet ones,” He placed the bar back and took another one. “This’ll do it.”

Walking towards the counter, you eyed his purchase. It was an onigiri. Probably for his dinner. Once you were handed your change, he opened the door for you. Him and his gestures were something you were slowly liking.

“So where are you heading?”

Looking at the same direction, your silent invitation to walk home together was accepted. Getting to know him more was somewhat similar to Shinso back in your dimension. Both of them preferred silence and though Shinso was rather edgy during the first few days in the hero course, you were happy when his shell slowly broke down. Though Akaashi was taller by a few inches, you guessed.

When you finally arrived at your house, you bowed and said farewell. For a moment, you saw how he stared at you. Almost as if he were reading you like a limited edition book he had been saving for. Realizing that he was staring a bit too long, he finally returned your act and bid farewell.

Though it wasn’t too long. After a few steps, he turned and went towards the door.

“Holy quirks…”

How did you miss it? Why did this dimension allow you to be neighbors with such a pretty setter? You could feel it. Things were only going to get much worse.

And it did.

Just when you opened the doors to your room, you went to the window and peaked through the curtains. Just a few inches to the right, you saw another window, one with the lights on. Pointing your finger, you slowly pushed the curtain and saw a bed.

As if on cue, a familiar ball of raven hair landed on the bed. The same jacket you saw just a few minutes ago clear as the crack could offer.

“Ah shit…”

Shit indeed.

- - - - -

a/n: so hows chapter 2 :) ? feel free to message me your thoughts and comment if you’d want to be added to Akaashi’s lineup! :) take care and see ya’ll in the next upload <3

[smolbeandrabbles]

Illicit Affairs - Harold x Reader (Adore)

Cruel Summer / Magnets / The Next Best Australian Record

GIF CREDIT: X

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

 Author’s Note: I know I said I was kinda finished with these two as far as I thought safe to take them.  Oh, but this song I haaaaaaad to...

So here’s another one on the list of ‘how long does it take you to write a fic’. I decided I was writing this on 8th October (when I wrote my plot notes. at like 11pm) then I wrote and finished it on 10th/11th.  Whereas sooooome stuff gets stuck in my drafts for like 6 months. And honestly I really don’t know how I do it. There’s a fic on my side blog that I turned around in 24 hours, which is another thing entirely but I am the most inconsistent writer! 😅🙈😬 I don’t know how you all put up with it, to be honest, but I’m glad you’re all here!

Ah shit we being and ‘end’ with Taylor again?! Ah well, can’t be helped!

Disclaimer: Adore/Adoration not mine / gif not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: With Harold now divorced things get a little easier for a while, but you shouldn’t expect things to remain so un-convoluted for long, especially when you receive an invite to Tom’s wedding...

Words: 6418

Warnings: Sexual connotations / Sexual Pre-Amble / Swearing

_______ Make sure nobody sees you leave Keep your eyes down Tell your friends you're out for a run You'll be flushed when you return Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings And longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

Take the words for what they are A dwindling, mercurial high A drug that only worked The first few hundred times

And you wanna scream Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well For you I would ruin myself A million little times ---

Life all seemed a little easier after his divorce. You still had to be careful, that much was certain, but it didn’t feel like a full affair. The only attachment either of you had was each other. For you it felt like a weight was lifted - a worry. If you only had to worry about what your friends and the University would think if they found out, all that really mattered was being careful on campus. Surprisingly easy; longing glances in class could have meant anything (didn’t they all already know you had a massive crush?), but that ‘catch you later’ smile on his face was the best new thing. Not every night, but a few of them you would spend back at his place. It felt like a real relationship now, you’d found something meaningful. Now you could spend time with him off campus, you seemed to get even more careful on it. It wasn’t the only place you could touch him, hold him, kiss him anymore. You’d been concerned about him leaving you. The age gap in itself would give him more than enough reasons. But he didn’t; Harold stayed. And eventually it wasn’t just belief that he wouldn’t leave you, you knew he wouldn’t. So another year at university ended, and this summer was the first you’d spent between Sydney and home. Obviously, Harold wasn’t going to be coming back. And far be it from your parents to stop you from going back to see your friends. They were just glad to see you happy, and having your own adventures. And you did get to have adventures, even if you never left his house. Summer bled into another year of university, important as your final one, strange in every social context you could possibly think of. Unusually tough to balance – and it made you only too glad to immerse yourself in your class work rather than your relationship. One of the blessings of Harold being that much older than you and having been there before (and heck as if he didn’t know about stressed and struggling university students), was that he understood and let you get on with what you thought was important. You still saw him, just not as often, and it affected nothing between you. Tom wanted to see more of his father, again that was understandable to you, but it was weird to see him kicking around Sydney and occasionally in your classes. On the instances you did bump into each other – and none of them very compromising, that you made sure of – you were civil. But there was never anything more to it than that, until Mary. Your first thought should obviously have been ‘I guess his girl back home didn’t work out’. Instead it was more about things becoming even more convoluted. Harold had come to you with the great idea that, as a final year and preparing to take that leap into the world of acting, you could mentor the lower years on your experience. Your mentee met your ex-boyfriend, and the next thing you knew they were dating. Harold thought it was hilarious, you weren’t so sure – but were at least prepared to see the ironically funny side. You certainly neglected to mention it any time you talked with her though. You weren’t sure you could get through a conversation without ‘Oh yeah and by the way he’s a cheater…’ Highly inappropriate! As you did start to consider your future seriously, the path you found yourself on came from an unexpected place. A new friend – a guy in class who you knew of, but had never really worked with. Stuck together for one of your many final projects, this wasn’t just about developing a few scenes – but a whole two-person stage play. It was like a light bulb moment, how well your energy and creative process and thinking matched. On the same page from the first moment, you weren’t sure which one of you had suggested doing this past your final year, but it seemed like the most logical thing in the world. As expected, Harold was nothing but supportive. Even joking that you’d get your work finished and produced before any of his. Before you hushed him with kisses and let him know how much you believed in him. Adding to your mad year, Harold also moved house – still beach front, modern and pretty. But it maintained a nice rustic aesthetic. Polished wood and steel. He whisked you up to see it before he’d even bought it – because apparently you got a say in things like this now. ‘Why? You’re the one living here.’ ‘I want you to still want to visit me.’ ‘I’d visit you if you were in a 1 bedroom flat with peeling paint and a leaky kitchen sink, you know that.’ ‘Yeah but, maybe it won’t always just be my house.’ You hoped he didn’t expect to be met with anything but joyful screaming at that. The very last thing – as if everything else wasn’t enough - was the final year production. Gruelling auditions were worth it once you got the main part, opposite your future business partner. It was nice, it was going to give you a taste of the future, a trial run. Harold unfortunately was in charge of the second years instead, but he brought Tom over to help manage it – no prizes for how he met Mary. Still, you went along to watch and support. Wondering how exactly you could make him a piece of the puzzle… proud of him and his vision. It made you nothing but excited for that original work of his to be complete – it would be nothing but an honour for you to star in it. Yet it also meant that he didn’t get to see yours until it debuted, and somehow having him on the front row provided you with a confidence boost. And that little wink he gave you as you took your bows gave you all the hints you needed about where your night was going… You wouldn’t lie to yourself anymore, Harold was everything you had always wanted. *** You gave it almost exactly a year after you had finished studying before you ‘came clean’ to your friends. Oh, you were never going to tell them the full details, and you certainly weren’t about to tell your parents everything: just that you were with someone, and you were happy… really happy. In your opinion that was all that should have mattered to them. Your friends were all incredibly shocked at first, but then supportive, and they instantly brought back some of their old favourite jokes ‘Holy shit! Good marks eventually DID get you in his pants after all!’ The truth was not the official line: You had met in a café like total coincidence just to catch up, once… twice… turning into a fair few times… turning into chemistry. Still totally weird, still with that age gap that made everyone (and you meant everyone) caution you, still this ‘he was your teacher once-!?’ that hung around. But not the truth, not that this had been going on so much longer than that. A story that you were both happy with – because no one ever needed to know the full story. And Harold was right about his house; although you had a small apartment across town you hardly stayed there – you spent all your time with him at his. You didn’t want to call it yours, didn’t dare speak the word ours until he did it first. But it always hung there, unspoken… Soon enough your friends grew to love him. How different things were out of the classroom, the conversations and interactions between them. Them all telling you that they finally got it – and then understood why, upon you meeting up again, why you’d hooked up. Which only had you pitying them for not seeing how gorgeous and amazing he was in the first place. There were a lot of shared evenings that happened around his house, where he’d let you invite your friends over but stayed well out of the way. Harold also let you invite them to his birthday though, and after the initial celebrations he and his friends stayed inside, whilst your friends stayed out on the porch. There was a chill in the air, but the fire was still going and you were all huddled together under blankets. As one by one his friends left and you were still sitting out giggling and sipping wine and beer, Harold came out to check you were all okay. Because he cared about them as much as you did. It made you love him even more, if that was at all possible. They probably loved that they could wind you up over this more than anything else, but that was fine for you, you knew it would take time for them to get used to the idea, although the tide was already turning; it was weird but they were also loving it. No one had left, somehow in all this madness you’d kept everything. It all seemed a little too good to be true sometimes, so you made sure to count all your blessings.

 Harold’s play still wasn’t finished; he always said he was almost there, but seemed to be taking an age to edit it all – he’d let you read nearly everything but the conclusion. “Why? Won’t I like it?” “I just want it to be the final-final version before you read that. I guess it’s more… thought provoking than satisfying.” So he kept you guessing. You’d become more of a stage actor than you’d ever expected… perhaps eventually you’d commit yourself to film and TV too. You’d done a few here-and-there episodes but nothing concrete. But it was the dynamic between you and your writing partner – who, if you were honest, was quickly turning out to be your best friend – that kept you in stage work. You’d started a small production company to write and produce these plays and they were pretty successful. But you’d also been included in other, sometimes large scale, productions. And, yes, as ever, Harold was front row for as many of these as he could be. You spent your spare time as you had before, tangled up with him, reading or writing together. With always the promise of: ‘Once I finish I’m casting you in this!’ and any time the school did a production, well… it was your turn to be front row for him.

*** Your joint influence on the people in your lives became more apparent, and also came as a surprise. To you at least. And your question was tentative even if you knew the answer already. “Harry… did you… get an invite to Tom’s wedding?” He pointed up to the fridge upon which was stuck the invite; very pretty, clearly there had been a lot of thought put into this and you would think a lot of effort would be put into such a wedding. You crossed the kitchen to look at it: Plus One, interesting. “Does he know?” “He knows I have somebody but not who, why?” By now he’d caught the piece of card you were holding in your hands, and you held it up. “I didn’t expect to get one myself, but here we are. I mean if I was going to be included at all, maybe I’d be on my parents one, but-” “Oh! Mary’s influence?” “Perhaps. I haven’t told her anything either, but why me? I’m his ex and I’m friends with her… but not very good friends.” “Family friends, maybe that’s it.” “A courtesy invite? I suppose it could be. But it’s not like my parents knew you and Roz that long, I didn’t grow up there like Tom and Ian-” You thought better of it and held that thought. You scored the invite with your nails, “Do you… want me to go?” Harold tilted himself back slightly, folding his arms, “Why? Are you thinking of not going?” “It’s not that, it’s that my parents are going. They’ve already discussed it with me, I’m certainly not ready to out this. And I don’t want you to spend your son’s wedding worrying about that. It’s a big day for him and you!” “Would you go anyway?” “Harry-” “It shouldn’t be about me.” “No, it should only be about you! Yes, I would like to go, but not if it makes more sense for me to stay away.” “Then accept and come.” You blushed gently, “Is that what you want?” “Of course I do. We can play it safe, geez, the last time we were around your family was when this started and was at its most dangerous. It’s not an affair anymore, you’re not my student anymore. If something happens then it happens, but look at you. You’re a star in your own right now, you’re an adult and your life is your life!” “It’s the family friends thing, they will go crazy. Even with the story line we made up, I doubt they’ll speak to me ever again.” “Do they know you’re seeing anyone?” “They’re vaguely aware.” Vaguely was certainly the operative word – more because you certainly expected for talk to get back to them that you had a relationship. You’d never made it sound serious to them, but you told them a little to sate their curiosity. “Well then,” He walked forward, cupping your face, “we’re on the same page and we’ll be fine.” “If you say so.” “I do, don’t you trust me?” You giggled, before leaning forward and grazing your lips to his, “No offense, but that’s a stupid question!” *** You were right, there was a lot of effort put into the wedding. There were less guests for the ceremony, but from what you’d been hearing there’d be quite the after party. As you were on your own invite, you also got the perks of a separate room to your parents. You didn’t hang around the wedding party when you arrived – you weren’t about to turn up here and make yourself a nuance - and it gave you time to relax and prepare yourself for tomorrow. You’d have to try to be on your very best behaviour, no matter what Harold had said, you didn’t want there to be any incidents. Your dress was in a colour that flattered you, covered in little appliques of your favourite flowers, sensible heels in the same colour. The opportunity to do your own make-up and hair; though you kinda missed having backstage stylists… The idea was simply to follow Harold’s lead, considering this was Tom’s wedding. He greeted you with familiarity; his ex-student who he’d seen in many a production since you’d graduated. He even seemed to indicate that you had in fact met up a few times just for general interest catch ups. To which Harold also added ‘maybe I’ll get you in to talk to my students sometime.’ Your parents did ask how exactly it was that you’d leave this detail out. ‘It’s just day to day stuff! You don’t tell me every time you see your friends-!’ Now, ‘friends’ wasn’t a word they questioned. You knew you weren’t going to get to sit next to him, but your family was sitting behind him and that was adequate, he might have only glanced back a couple of times, but they were enough to have you beaming. The ceremony was sweet, smooth sailing; they really did look in love. It gave you pause for thought – was that how you looked at Harold? Still? You’d been together a while now, but then you supposed so had Tom and Mary. Maybe that was just a wedding effect – after all, was there a more romantic day for two people? You also smiled a lot, it was such a lovely occasion to behold, even the atmosphere – like everyone was finally in the place they were meant to be. Which, considering the convoluted way this had all started that fateful summer, was fairly incredible. Harold placed his hand delicately on the small of your back, as you both left the chapel. “Don’t want you to think I don’t think you look beautiful…” You nudged him gently, “If you’ll let me return the compliment.” He chuckled, “No.” “Yes! I mean that’s got to be one of the main reasons I’m here!” His cheeks turned pink and he looked a little bashful, removing his hand from you, far enough away from everyone else to sneakily lace your fingers behind your back instead, “But I mean it.” “Thank you, that’s very sweet… Yet I’m hardly the main spectacle. It’s all stunning and her dress is flawless.” “I don’t disagree, it’s very lovely. We have the rest of the day and the party yet.” “Well alright, I know you’re privy to everything.” You smiled, “I’m just happy you’re involved.” “Hmm. It’s humbling.” “You’re his father!” “He’s spent more time with Roz. Tom didn’t have to ask me.” “Well, I suppose you can’t change my opinion… As long as you know my opinions of you!” “Oh.” He let you go as you approached the drinks reception and winked, “Yes, I would think I did!” The drinks reception and dinner afterwards had exactly the same set of increasingly hilarious conversations. You weren’t always in ear shot of each other, or in the same social circles, but everyone wanted to know about the people you were respectively dating. You were a couple of drinks in, and became much more willing to open up – to the point where you were positively gushing about him. You gave your partner no name, age, or any of the questions they were asking that would be more revealing, but were more than willing to tell the rest of the story. And when you heard him being asked roughly the same questions - and sometimes you were standing together at these points - he was doing exactly the same thing. You were surprised one of you hadn’t broke out in a beaming smile or had glowed in sweet embarrassment yet. And yet it did make you feel so happy that Harold was happy to talk about you in the same way, and every so often you’d catch each other’s eyes and you would smile just like that. There was something about both being in on such a secret; you were happy you’d decided to come and be here – even if you weren’t with him, you were most definitely with him. You didn’t approach Tom and Mary until a little later but they were both so happy to see you. And you congratulated them with about as much enthusiasm. “First up you both look gorgeous! And this wedding is so beautiful… oh my gosh, you guys!” You hugged them both tight. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both!” “Hey,” Tom nudged you, “What’s this I’ve been hearing about you, though!? Get him married.” “AHaha-” You excused yourself from your laugh, “I mean I dunno I… maybe.” You quickly turned the conversation back on them, “You both look so joyful, and so great together. Enjoy it, alright.” You pointed to Tom, “Extra enjoy it for me, I’ll see where I go.” “Oh, I will!” He grinned, hugging you again. You wondered if he ever had told Mary that you’d dated. You supposed it wasn’t the relationship with him you needed to worry about so much. Mary pulled you back to her, “Thank you, so much!” “Oh, you were always star material…” you squeezed her tight, “But you’re welcome. Maybe we’ll get to be in a production together soon!” “I’ll hold you to that!” She giggled, wishing you well as you let her go. You breathed a sigh of relief as you made your way back to your parents, all’s well that ends well…

 ***

It was a little later, after the first dance, and when everyone was moving around the party freely: everything now in full swing and at least a few of them having already having had too much alcohol, that you realised your assumption was wrong. Some people here weren’t having a good time. You were alright to sit alone and observe for now. You’d known what you were getting into. Ian, best man and from what you’d been told by Harold the one to start this whole ball rolling, was sitting around rather dejectedly. You’d watched him intently for a little while, and he seemed to be getting confrontational with just about everyone – including your man. Now he just appeared to be sulking. So much for us all being more grown up now… Eventually you’d clearly stared at him long enough to have caught his eye, and you offered somewhere between a sympathetic and fed-up smile. Attempting to give an air of ‘yeah man, I know the feeling!’ considering you were also sitting here alone, but his face just scrunched into an even bigger frown as he huffed, crossing his arms before looking away. Okay then, sorry I tried! You weren’t left alone for much longer than that, as Harold wandered over. “Hey, you doing alright over here?” “Yeah, fine.” You waved off Ian, just in case he’d seen any of that brief exchange, “Just taking some quiet time.” “Well, that’s an awful lot of quiet time…” He held his hand out for yours, “Come on, come dance.” Your eyes immediately widened, and you looked from his hand to his face, “With you!?” “No, with someone else – yes, me!” “Harry, I don’t think that we should-” “I want you to enjoy yourself… c’mon.” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and praying this wasn’t the worst idea you’d ever had, as you placed your hand in his and he pulled you up.  “Think of it as like… a father daughter dance.” “Oh no, you just made it worse.” His laugh was embarrassed, “Oh, yeah I guess I did, didn’t I – sorry!” Harold didn’t try to make it romantic, although clearly because it was between you it was, and you supposed it was something a little reminiscent of ‘father of the bride’. Well, no one else – not even your family – was dancing with you, so why the hell not? Still you voiced the question. “Should we be doing this?” To which you were only presented with your own question: “Shouldn’t we really be beyond caring?” You couldn’t help but laugh, “You been drinkin’?!” “Not that much, give me some credit!” Oh, the want to pull him closer, your wish to lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes as he swayed you gently on this dancefloor. To look into his eyes like you really wanted to, and were using all your self-control to make sure you weren’t. For him to just wrap you in his embrace right now. It didn’t happen, and you didn’t expect it to, but it hurt a little. Still, here you were and he was ‘holding’ you – it was as close as you were going to get, and you savoured every single second of his skin on yours. Eventually you did actually get to dance with your father and then some younger ‘gentlemen’ (though, whether you’d call them that…) cut in and you let them dance with you the way you wished that Harold could. At least you were enjoying yourself, to you that was the most important thing. But, you ended up back over by the drinks table with your actual other half, observing the party once more, and you broached the subject of the catalyst. “What did Ian say to you?” “Huh?” He turned, bottle half way to his lips. “I mean it looked like he was getting a little irate.” Harold just looked confused, so you sighed with an eyeroll, “Earlier!” “Oh.” Then he laughed, “Well clearly he’s the least happy person at this entire wedding, and he ironically said this was all my fault.” Your eyebrows raised, “Sorry!?” “Well I did take Mary to Tom’s 21st. So, I guess… that’s where they became a little more serious.” You snorted, “Holy shit. The wedding is your fault!? But what’s wrong with the-” you looked back out to the guests and then it clicked, “Everyone was growing up… You think they ended all the affairs at home?” He gave you a face to say he agreed with your deduction, “I’m glad we didn’t get the memo.” You only laughed, “I don’t think I would have agreed to the memo!” “Now we’re on the same page-!” **

You were standing outside on the patio, admiring the stars and lit scenery, when Tom caught up with you again. “Can I ask you something?” “Yes. And you just did.” That had him laughing, and you only slipped into chuckles too, he still liked how fast you were at quipping. Suddenly you were transported back – what would this have been if it didn’t become such a mess. “Your boyfriend…” “Mhm.” You straightened to the edge in his voice, and although Tom was looking at you seriously there was a hint of playfulness to his voice. “How long have you been together?” You couldn’t tell if he’d figured you out yet. “What if I said, it’s the same guy that I first mentioned to you in that massive argument we had?” He leant back against the railing, breathing out heavily. “I feel like I should have… figured it out before now.” “Considering I don’t know what you’ve figured out – you want me to help?” “It’s my dad, isn’t it.” It wasn’t even a question. You were a little affronted by his tone: “You don’t have to make it sound so creepy. In fact, if you want me to bring up glass houses…” He was a little taken aback that you’d just admit it, “Shit, you knew about-!?” “I told you I did. Yeah, that’s how this all started, you and Ian and…” you waved your hand and then pointed at yourself, “Only I stayed with mine… Geez, I’m sorry.” “Sorry?” He laughed, “Why?” “He’s… your dad. That’s not why I dated you, it’s just how it happened.” “You don’t have to explain!” He waved his hands around, “He’s happy, you’re happy, you’ve spent a lot of time together today, I have observed, and it just… I dunno, I guess it clicked. Everything he’s said about – well you – but his other half, and everything you’ve said.” “Oh, damn, is it obvious?!” “No. I just have all the pieces, don’t I?” “You’re… a little too cool with this.” “I told you we were cool before.” Tom’s look was significant, “We’re still cool. And I’m not gonna go telling everyone, until you’re ready to go do that yourselves. Besides,” he nudged you with a smile, “you seem to have enough dirt on me!” “Uh, I would never. You go off and enjoy your married life to an amazing woman, you idiot!” “I’ll do my best – but I’m never gonna call you mom!” “I’m just glad I’m older than you!” You folded your arms with a grin as he left you, with a wave, before turning back, “Why’s that!?” “The likely inevitability of grandbabies. I’m just gonna have to be the cool aunt or something!” You didn’t think you’d heard anyone laugh so loud in a long time. ***

It continued to get later, although the party was still going on and you could hardly take it anymore. You’d watched him move around in it all day, and now all you wanted was that suit on your hotel room floor, or his. That single button he’d undone and the slacked nature of his tie was nowhere near enough for you. But it was hard to let him know that when you couldn’t just go over and grab his hand; you had to just rely on glances and hope that he got it. And clearly he did, as he crossed the room back to you. Although instead of telling you that he was ready to go, he came with a cautionary tale. “We need to be careful about this.” “And your suggestion is?” “Well, we have to stagger when we leave, but you might want to say goodbye to people. Because your parents will notice you’re gone.” “Oh, your son isn’t gonna notice you’re gone, huh?” It was then Harold decided to tell you he’d seen your conversation with Tom, “Well he knows, doesn’t he.” It wasn’t a question, and you were stuck on how to respond, “I didn’t hear, but I saw you two. Is there anything you want me to say to him?” “…Well, that’s between you…” You lowered your eyes, “I didn’t tell him, he guessed.” “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Harold couldn’t touch you, so his nickname made you look up. “I’ll talk to him, maybe not tonight… You go, I’ll watch you, wait for me.” You nodded and he gave you a gentle wink before you both headed in different directions. You had one more drink before you started to play the tired card – although really you were far from it – and said goodbye to your parents, a few of the others you knew here, and finally bride and groom before you headed off. Outside of the reception room the hotel was cool and quiet (you supposed it was pretty late) and you could take a breather, sliding out of your heels on the steps it felt so good to be back on the floor. You wandered slowly up the corridor and across hotel reception, you weren’t exactly sure whose room you were heading to, but nearly everyone was on the same floor and you were all certainly on the same wing. You were just finding your way up the steps on the other side of reception when you heard the footfall of smart dress shoes behind you, and turned to Harold saying a goodnight to the receptionist who had pulled night shift. He continued his pace as he caught you, turning up the corridor but not before turning back and wishing you a goodnight. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow: who were you keeping up appearances for now? Hotel staff? You shook your head and turned, finding him back at his room, apparently having trouble with his key.

“Would you like some help?” You slipped yourself between him and his room door. “If you would be so kind.” “Not sure I was talking about your room key…” You smirked, prising it from his hand, waiting for the beep to pull him to your lips by his tie, you stumbled backwards into the room as he pushed the door. Harold waited until it had closed to pull you into him, hands into your hair. It felt so good to have him touch you again, and you realised how much you’d yearned for it all day, as his hands moved down your neck and shoulders to your back, he continued to pull you closer. “God, I love you.” You almost whimpered it – kisses leaving you breathless, and you weren’t sure if that was because of the whole wedding atmosphere, or that you hadn’t had even a single chance to tell him face to face in nearly two days. But he needed to know, urgently. He chuckled, nuzzling your face with his own, “I love you too.” Your breath still caught every time he said it, even now. After having to wait so long for his first, there wasn’t anything any less special about it a hundred, a thousand, a million times later. He was still nothing ever but delicate with you, guiding you across his room to the bed before his hands collected on your shoulders again. Harold took a step back, the low level lighting set the perfect mood, but he moved his body so the moonlight could shine on you through the still open curtains. “You are so beautiful.” His fingers gathered under your chin, to keep you from shying away from his eyes as your own hands collected on his chest, ready to push his jacket down his arms. “You truly are.” As if he didn’t already affirm this nearly every day of his life, and Harold kissed you again. “Me?” Your instinctive reaction to flirting was always to nervously joke, “You look in a mirror, lately?” Harold shook his head before his lips traced yours again and he let you relieve him of his jacket, you were quick to unfurl his tie too. You stilled at the buttons of his shirt because his hands were back on your shoulders again and you relaxed your stance, releasing his lips to watch him push the straps of your dress down, guiding his hands across to the slight zip, he ghosted you a kiss in thanks before he let your dress fall to the floor. This time as you caught his collar to run through the buttons you kissed him harder, pushing your body into his – encouraging him to touch you and moaning into his kiss as you did so. His shirt was off quick and joined your dress as he deepened the kiss and you wound yourself around him, enjoying the taste on his tongue. Your kiss continued to get hot and heavy as your hands shot to his belt; he was no longer of the persuasion to stop you on bedroom thresholds, opening his body up for you to relieve him of it and undo his suit pants. Relenting as his hands caressed your back, finding your bra clasp; you always felt so fragile under those large hands of his, but all Harold ever did was take care of you. He lifted you gently from the floor and laid you both back in the sheets, kicking off his pants as he did so. You remained locked in your kiss as he caught you in an embrace, pulling your panties slowly down your legs, your breathing was a little shallower, at the friction of his hips against yours. You could hardly wait for him now, eagerly reliving him of his own underwear. “Shh shhh…” Harold gathered your hands in his, breaking the kiss and you whined, making him chuckle, “Darling, we have all night…” “…Harry…” The way you whined his name was delightful and that flicker across his eyes that he couldn’t control had you craving more of him, “please.” And you knew he wouldn’t deny you if you asked politely. “All night.” He repeated, and all you hoped was you weren’t going to be too loud when the other guests retired to their rooms for the evening. Hooking your leg over his hips he made sure you were completely comfortable before he entered you. You held him tighter, trying to stifle your moans in his skin. But he groaned gently too, and it was an exquisite little sound. In the comfortable quiet before you moved together, you kissed him gently again, reaffirming what you’d said before, “I love you.” Free to tell him all night now, you weren’t about to waste any opportunity. He rubbed his hands over your skin, sweet and delicate, “Darling I know… I’ve known that for a very long time.” He caught your lips once more, “I only hope I remain deserving of such love.” You weren’t sure why he occasionally said things like that to you, maybe sometimes he felt guilty about the whole thing, but you would only ever reassure him. He was deserving, and you knew he would always remain that way.

*** It was very early morning when you awoke, too much excitement in the air – even in the aftermath of the wedding - for you to sleep. You stood out on the balcony, watching the watery sky as the sun began to break through.  Harold was content to watch you from the bed as you were draped in his shirt and the bed sheet, looking out towards the ocean. There was always something about all these ocean views… He stood and half-dressed himself before joining you, he almost didn’t want to break the silence and how serene everything was. Harold opted instead to simply stand with you, caressing your exposed skin, stroking the small of your back delicately. You wore a soft smile, and although you weren’t looking at him, he knew that he was where all your focus stayed. Eventually you tilted yourself, so your head rested against him – and the noise you made was of content. The silence remained for a long time, because there was nothing for either of you to say. Why say ‘I love you’ when you’d spent your night showing each other how in love you were, and how much you appreciated the opportunity to be with each other… There was something even more beautiful about you in the afterglow, but Harold wasn’t sure he could handle just telling you that yet. There was something about the time of day, about the time you’d just spent with him, all the joy that surrounded the wedding that made you speak honestly. Something had weighed on you for a long time; it wasn’t a bad weight, just a muse you were almost too scared to voice. But after everything, right now felt like the best and only time to say it. So you did. “Is it crazy to want this... for me to wish this could be us one day?” You couldn’t look at him for fear of becoming so embarrassed that you’d stammer ‘forget it’ and run from the room. That perhaps all you would see in Harold was hesitation, and it might break your heart in two right then and there. You assumed his answer; that he would chuckle at you, and be as lovely with you as ever but tell you not to be so stupid – this wasn’t to be your fate. That wasn’t what Harold said, and the silence didn’t hang because he didn’t know what to say, but because what you’d voice demanded the gravitas and respect of a real answer, a thought out answer. He took a breath, looking out to the sky as you were, before smiling and taking your hand, pulling your body into his embrace and kissing the crown of your head. He kept his voice low and gentle, as delicate with you as ever. Why had you expected anything less? “No. I don’t think it’s that crazy at all.”

---

Thanks so much for reading 😘🤗

[heyyylittlemo]

Ask game

1. Where did you hide the body??

Me: *pause* No, where did you hide the body—

*police stare at me with disbelief*

Me: there’s no—there’s not a single body here—well stop looking at me like that, you’re the cop! You should know! Why are you asking me for! Body? Whaaaaaat. Ahaha.

*cops shake head*

*whispers to my friend* Guys I think I pulled that one off

Police: you know we can hear everything you’re saying

me: 👁👄👁

2. Favorite rock? The 1975. Dominic Fike. Arctic Monkeys. Bad Suns. The killers. Pale Waves. Etc. That good good shit 👌

3. Most aesthetic season? Fall. Love them orange colors. The leaves falling. Though spring is also neat if you have a bunch of flowers bloomin in shit and winter is only aesthetic when it’s snowing. Boring ass summer tho just be heating me up.

4. When texting do u shorten words or spell out? I used to write stuff out all the time mostly but now it’s like half and half bcuz its just faster and nobody got time for it 🤣🤣

5. Vintage stuff? Hell yeah, but maybe not anything too expensive since some old stuff IS hyper expensive.

6. Colors that pop or blend? Not sure I understand what u mean abt them blending ahaha u mean like when they’re so similar to another?? Well I think it’s nice but honestly I prefer a pop and a bang, y’Know?

- At this moment I realized I was answering the last few questions from a completely different ask and felt like a dumbass 😂 anyways the actual number we’re on is three so imma just kickback

3. Worst dream u have ever had? I had sleep paralysis but was imbetween that and a lucid dream. At first I was paralyzed and could see my bed but my eyes felt closed and open at the same time?? A giant dark demon looking dog had towered over me and began to tear at my neck. It looked and felt very real I started to try to scream and it felt like a scream was coming out but no sound exited. Then I went into a lucid dream where I was being chased by this dog and running for my life I was running by and nobody could save me nobody in the dream when it caught up to me I was back in my bed and it was trying to eat me again. I was so terrified I couldn’t sleep for a whole week.

4. Lyric that comes to your mind? “And I don’t think I can be there. I’m paralyzed,I’m terrified of being alone. When you said I deserved what had happened.”

5. Blood make u uncomfortable? Yes, I passed out once when getting my finger pricked and a VERY small blood sample and another when dissecting a fish.

6. Even or odd numbers? Well I like the number 5,7,9, 3 so odd. (Like me 🤣🤣)

7. Something I hate that I love? Anything I’ve ever loved becuz love can be frustrating. Bruh.

8. 1st initial of someone I hate? Hmm...do I hate someone tho? Not that I can think of...

9. *Skipping down the lane* NOPE

10. Corn dogs? It’s funny cuz when I think of corn dogs my mind will always go to when we first moved to our current house because at our initial town we never had Sonic and while we were getting the house fixed up and moving stuff we use to always get Sonic since it was the closest to us most times to eat and that was a bunch of corn dogs and hotdog days 🤣 so thnk u corn dogs for ur service

11. I’m not a huge movie person so...I looked up movies from 2005 and movies Inlike from this time are Brokeback mountain bcuz it’s gay af, Shark Boy and Lava Girl damn I rewatched the shot out of it when I was younger, Narnia and the Chocolate Factory(although it low key creeped me out as a kid, and idk why).

12. Least fav music genre? Most country, most EDM, dubstep, screaming/really hard rock, some pop music, mumble raping.

13. As someone who waits on tables, my job is my least favorite restaurant experience 🤣🤣 just dealing with ppl...like ok, I’m half Hispanic right?? But I look white. Well, I work at a Mexican restaurant and so sometimes racist costumers will say shady shit just bcuz I guess they think it’s appropriate to say it to me just bcuz I’m not Hispanic in their eyes?? But it pisses me off and I feel like I can’t say anything without causing a drama which I hate and when the “costumers always right” it can be hard to budge and stand up and say “bitch wtf did u just say??” And there’s just folks who take things the wrong ways or ask too much at once or give u a hard time or just say something that sticks onto you for the whole day. One bad move can turn my whole day upside down.

14. 3 things never come near me? Cockroaches, Needles, and close mind ppl

15. Worst way to die? With regrets. Something really brutual, random, or where something just happened to go wrong (accident). Being killed by someone u love.

16. Unusual habits? Doing a Michael Jackson esque “hee-hee” after every sneeze I make, being extremely clumsy and making every task 100% more difficult, having the ability to talk as if I have an accent that comes from nowhere in particular just stupidity also I can’t speak my own language half the time 🙃getting words confused or misusing them in a sentence so I sound dumb having a very weird imagination and thoughts, I swear it like I never went to school and don’t know how the world works, plus many many more

17. Clothing style u want? I want to dress in a way that screams who I am and is a blend of both femininity and masculinity. A little vintage. Grunge. Urban maybe?? What do I know abt fashion 🤣🤣

18. Song or artist that deserves more? Dijon, hands down. I love his stuff. He’s like Frank Ocean meets light-singing beautiful lyricist with a more rock vibe?? Hidden gem. I also think Durand Jones & the Indications needs more love along with BadBadNotGood they sound like old-times but are new!! Oh, and Pale Waves is like a female The 1975 and kicks it. Bad Suns is a good alt rock band that no one seems to recognize :,D Toro y Moi too! His song with Flume “The difference “ is a banger!! Kid Cudi is my man when I want a blend of rock and rap. Also Dominic Fike,King Krule, and Roy Blair, who are all amazing!! Ok I need to stop 🛑

Duck I answered the past questions from a different post I’m sorry 😐

17. Emoji never used? There’s a bunch since I reuse the same over and over again. Lmao

18. 3 sentence Gatorade horror story? A faint quiver overtook the small freezer the Gatorade lay in; no one had come by in days, hours, weeks; when was the last time he met the lips of a thirsty body? They’d forgotten about him, as his last sips remained glued to his hollowing entrance. ‘Help, ‘it wanted to say, but it’s frozen lips could not be moved; It’d stay here, die here...just like the rest.” What am I doing with my life 🤣🙏

19. Do u know what an old bay is? A bay that is old? And old ocean? Idk!!!

20. Can u dance? Sometimes I dance when I’m alone but nothing spectral lol

21. What first comes to ur mind when u see ropes? 2 extremes. Sex and death. Hm. Ok. Moving on.

22. Make an obscure reference. “Even a bra couldn’t hold these nipples” *Holds a water gun to chest*

23. Fav balloon color? Pink or yellow.

24. If u were in court would u be innocent or guilty? Depends, what am I in court for 🤣 lmao jk honestly idk bcuz I don’t think I’d wind up in there

25. Are u hungry ? Nope

26. Unlucky number? Hm I don’t think so but I have a lucky number “123”

27. What’s “JMD”stand for? I’m guessing...Jamming my d—- 💀lol jk ahaha why am so dirt

28. Random inside joke? *chirpy squeak* I’m making a double batch of cookies

29. What sends chills up ur spine? Seeing disgust food or smell disgust or talking abt disgust things like gore

30. How many questions are in ur inbox? A pathetic zero ahaha no one want to ask me anything 😂

31. Someone real who scares u. 2 of my ex friends. One when I was 10 said disturbing things and I was kinda forced onto the friendship and everything they said make me fear for others lives...and then a different ex friend who seemed normal at 1st but became both low key psychopath cult leader type stuff and I booed out of there—-.

32. Run or hide? Uhh probably hide because I’d say even if ppl say “u can run but u can’t hide” u CAN just hide! that’s the point of hiding they not find u xD also why not combine them? Hide then run somewhere far away once I got them off the trial.

33. Last person who made u angry? A frickin beetle that flew at me and pinched me in the middle of singing in the shed xD also my autocorrect

34. What’s going on in ur head? I should probably pee soon—

35. Little thing that makes u Smile? A lot of little things bruh.

36. Are u a descisive person?

Not sure.

*pAuse *

Ok, I guess I’m not then 🤣

37. Would ppl say I’m paranoid? Hm maybe about certain things social situations, singing in front of others what ppl think abt me etc etc

38. Store least likely in? Any southern clothes shop, Abercrombie & Finch types shit, lol

39. Do I like hats fave type? Hm not wear many hats but I think they’re cool any type is cool for different ppl and their aesthetici just can’t rock a hat.

40. Bow ties or ties? Don’t really care but now want to see more bow ties

41. Who? You.

42. What? Reading this shit

43. Where? In ur ass

44. When? Now.

45. Why? Not even u know why.

46. How? We all want to know

47. Do u collect anything? Vinyl records.

48. What tome is it? Time to get a watch

49. Fav transportation? My car or walk is possible

50. Would u ever kill someone to save someone? Don’t want to think about that

51. Make a joke. Yo, it’s time to make a joke—so the other day I was working. And I was practicing my Spanish, yes? Anyone whose trying to learn anew language k n o w s that sometimes words can be so close to another u just confuse then! So apparently churros in Spanish is a desert but if u say it more harshly (it literally sounds almost the same) it makes a whole different meaning—diharrea, but like I didn’t know that so I legit just walked up to this person and asked if they would like some shit to eat. So yeah, that was great. Let’s not forget that I mixed up blood, watermelon, and sangria which is a wine. I legit once said I had mixed wine in my vines and another time watermelon 🤣

52. I’m really confused so I skip

53. Would ur dash be confiscated SFW? By dash do u mean this account? Um not 😬

54. Do I like to cuddle? Hell yeah and manhandle ppl all the time it’s my affection

55. What makes u angry? Close minded ppl or ppl who jump too fast to conclusions, strict schedules just dumb stuff that people try to force when I just want to be carefree 😭✌️

56. How many voices are in ur head? 😐

57. Do U consider urself mentally stable? 😐

58. Are u easily offended? Well U just called me mentally unstable and asked it there was voices in my head!!

59. What’s wrong with taking the backstreets? Uhm...

60. Any questions u want ppl to ask u? Nothing in particular but it’s be nice if someone care to ask me something abt me from personal question to my opinions on shit to 19 days fandom related junk 😌

Woooo I’ve finished this game! Thanks to @seiji-amasawa for introducing me to this ^^

[animeniacss]

6 Years - Hoseok x Reader - Chapter 25 - No Contact Allowed

Synopsis: 6 years. That’s all it can take to take another look at someone and see that they have completely changed. You were once an eager 20-year-old, with your dreams all in view, and Jung Hoseok at your side to view them with you. However, after a break up the end of your junior year of college, everything seemed different. Now, you’re a recently divorced single mother of two, and your life is nowhere near what you thought it would be. However, after reuniting with Jung Hoseok, you may just be able to capture a little bit of that exciting youth you once knew so long ago.

Feat. BTS Members, Nayeon (TWICE), and Yuna (itzy) 

Genre: Romance, SingleMother!AU, Past Relationship, Drama, Some Depictions of Violence/Domestic Abuse

Length: approx. 4.1k words 

Disclaimer: This chapter does include some intimidating scenes that some may find triggering. Please be warned. 

Chapter 25 - No Contact Allowed

           Weong-Bin had good connections. He was able to get out on bail just as noon was starting to poke its head around the corner. The next day, thanks to his parents and a few of his coworkers. He didn’t expect anything different, and he was glad he could finally relax in his home until his trial. His lawyer was beside him as they exited the prison, making sure to remind him that he was to have no contact with his family before the trial and to spend his time following the rules and creating a good defense to make sure that he was only able to be found innocent. As he walked out the door, descending down the steps of the jail, he saw a car with his parents waiting on the street. He also saw Myung-Dae, standing at the bottom with his arms crossed. Weong-Bin let out a frustrated groan as he saw Myung-Dae approach him.

           “Don’t forget you aren’t allowed to contact anyone-.”

           “I already told him. Relax.” Weong-Bin’s lawyer said quickly. “Just keep your distance, will you? Mr. Cho does not need to be harassed right now.”

           “Yeah well, neither did his ex-wife but look at where we are.” Weong-Bin couldn’t help but laugh.

           “Okay, that was funny. It’d be funnier if it was true, but good job. Maybe you should be a comedian, Officer.” With that, he walked past Myung-Dae and headed towards his car, giving his mother a tight hug. He took one more glance at Myung-Dae and his lawyer, waving them both off as he slid into his car, and his parents followed, before pulling out of their spot and driving off. Myung-Dae watched the car drive off, then glanced at the lawyer, who checked his watch and turned to him.

           “You heard him, become a comedian.” The lawyer joked, chuckling as he headed down the street. Myung-Dae sighed, pulling out his phone and being quick to dial your phone number.

           It was lunchtime, and you were at work typing away on your computer. A father had brought in his young son who was throwing up and had to be taken out of school, the poor young boy hysterical as he buried his head in his father’s shoulder.

           “The doctor will see you as soon as he can.” You motioned to the little garbage that was placed in front of the counter. “Feel free to take that to your seat, just in case.” The man offered a quick thank you, and you smiled as you watched him walk with his son and the garbage can, trying to isolate themselves from the other small group of patients throughout the waiting room. You leaned back in your seat, looking at Jungkook, who was scrolling through his phone. “Any interesting news?”

           “No, not really.” He said. “Just typical stuff; scandals, idol news, stuff like that.” He said. “How’s everything with uhhhh-.” He saw your eyes cast down. “Eh, sorry. We don’t have to talk about it.”

           “There’s really nothing crazy to talk about. He’s not supposed to contact anyone, and this weekend I start working with the prosecutor to prepare for the trial.” You chuckled. “My parents are staying close by until this all blows over, with Taehyung and we’re working on moving Hoseok in…” you sighed. “There’s a lot of stuff going through my mind, but it’ll be okay once all this stuff is over.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your hands as you let your mind start to drift off.

           I want to tell my parents and Taehyung about the baby from the college. I haven’t yet. With everything going on right now, it’s been a real weight on my shoulders.

           I can only imagine.

           Will you…help me?

           “I’m here if you need anything, Noona~.” Jungkook said happily, offering you a kind smile as you were pulled out of your own thoughts. You chuckled.

           “I know you are.” You said simply. “Don’t worry, though. I went through similar stuff in the divorce. Nothing I can’t handle.” Jungkook chuckled a bit. Both of you were then interrupted by your phone vibrating. “Hm?” Glancing down, you saw Myung-Dae’s phone number flash on your screen. “Oh no…” Jungkook blinked as you stood up. “I’ll be right back.” You stood up, excusing yourself to one of the break rooms before you answered. “Hello?”

           “Miss. Cho? It’s Myung-Dae.” He said. “How are you?”

           “Well, and yourself?”

           “I’m fine. I was just calling to tell you that Weong-Bin posted his bail and will be under close watch until his trial.” You blinked. Even though you kind of knew this would happen, you were still absolutely terrified. “Don’t worry, he’s still under orders not to contact anyone in your family. If he does, you call me right away and I’ll handle it.”

           “…Okay, thank you.” You said softly.

           “Don’t worry.” She said gently. “We have a lot of stuff to do at the office, but we’re here for you if you need anything.”

           “Thank you. I appreciate it.” You smiled happily. “But, Uhm, I’m at work. I need to go now.” Myung-Dae chuckled a bit, agreeing as the both of you said your goodbyes and hung up. Putting your phone in your pocket, you sighed as you headed back to your seat, sinking down and groaning. Jungkook could sense you were now done talking about the situation, and he left it at that, looking over as the doctor stepped out and called another patient into his office.

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

           While you were at work, Hoseok was making sure to be hard at work himself. Sang-Chol, Ji-Tae and the rest of their dance team were hard and work as well. After their last contest went pretty well, the group began to gain a pretty decent following on social media. It was making them even more excited to try and perfect their skills, hoping for even more fans. Currently, they were working on recording a dance cover for a new song released by a popular idol group. It was a tough dance, and Hoseok had offered to help them get down the routine and even help them record it.

           “Alright, that was much better!” Hoseok said, setting down his water bottle as he watched the group of boys collapse onto the floor.

           “Can’t we take a break? You’ve made us run through it 3 times in a row!” Sang-Chol begged.

           “And look how much you’ve improved since the first time. You said you wanted to get the video up soon, didn’t you? While the video is still a hot topic?”

           “Yeah…”

           “Then get up and go again!”

           “Mr. Hoseok pleeeeeease-.” Sang-Chol whined, sprawling out on the floor. Hoseok laughed a bit, grinning.

           “Fine. One drink break, then we’ll run it a few more times.” He watched the boys scramble to their bags, pulling out their drinks and practically guzzling down every last drop that they could as if they had been deprived of water for weeks. Hoseok couldn’t help but be amused by them, as he reached over to his phone and scooped it up to check his messages. He saw one was from Yoongi, in the group chat that had both him and Namjoon in it.

           Wanna meet for lunch in like half an hour? (Sent 12:30 p.m.)

           Hoseok hummed, looking at the little stopwatch that was ticking down how much time they had left. 35 minutes. He glanced back over to the boys, who were already getting reenergized and put back into position. Hoseok glanced down at his phone, seeing Namjoon had also sent a text to confirm.

           Sure. I finish my lesson in 35 minutes. Text me the place and I’ll meet you there. (Sent 12:32 p.m.)

           With lunch plans settled, Hoseok stood up. “Alright. Let’s get to work boys. Five, six, seven-.”

           35 minutes later, the alarm began to ring, signaling the end of the lesson. The boys sighed as they once again collapsed after another 30 minutes of rigorous practice. On the plus side though, they were finally confident enough to shoot the video and upload it. Hoseok took the drink from his bag and took a sip as the boys began to pack up.

           “You guys did great.” He said. “Are you going to record next time?”

           “I think so. I’m really excited man, that dance break is so difficult!” Ji-Tae said happily.

           “I know, and your part, Ji-Tae, with the huge kick right in the middle? Ah! I think I’m in love!”

           “Shut up.” Ji-Tae sighed as the boys began to laugh. They all turned to Hoseok as he finished packing up and gave polite bows, thanking him for his help. He smiled.

           “No trouble. Here, I’ll walk you guys out.” He said. The group headed outside of the studio, saying goodbye to Jin-Young, who was actually signing up a new little girl for Jimin’s ballet classes. “Be safe getting home.” He said, waving off the boys as they headed down the street, chatting and cheering about their excitement for the upload of the dance cover. He watched them for a moment, before turning around and heading to the café to meet his friends.

           Namjoon and Yoongi were already there, sitting at one of the booths. They had waited to order food until Hoseok arrived, and when they saw him bust through the door of the care, Yoongi stood up.

           “It’s about time!” He teased as his friend hurried up to him. “Your dance studio is like 5 blocks. We had to take a train.”

           “I know.” Hoseok laughed. “Sorry, the boys were so eager to keep practicing I had to practically force them out.” Saying his hellos, he sat down in the booth and sighed. “God, I’m so tired.”

           “I can only imagine.” Namjoon chuckled, taking a sip of his water. “You’re really being put through the wringer now. How’s moving going?”

           “Fine. I’m pretty much settled in. But everything else-.” He chuckled as the waitress brought him over water. “Everything else just sucks really bad. I don’t know what to do. Anxiety and tension are really high in the apartment right now.” Lifting the glass up to his lips, he took a sip and sighed. “I don’t know what I can do to ease her nerves a bit. The trial is coming up soon, she’s been preparing for everything, and she texted me that Weong-Bin made bail this afternoon.”

           “Well he can’t contact you guys, right?” Namjoon asked.

           “Yeah, like that’ll stop him.” Yoongi said. “That guy was always a scumbag.”

           “…You never met him.” Namjoon pointed out.

           “But I knew. I’m just observant like that.” Hoseok smiled a bit at his friends. “But don’t stress about it. If he tries to call, just call the cops and get his ass tossed back in jail, it’s not that serious.”

           “Yeah, try telling her that. I’m sure every possible phone call she’s gotten since she heard he made his bail is making her even more paranoid.” Hoseok scratched his head, feeling himself getting frustrated just thinking of how paranoid you were. “I wish I could do more.”

           “…Marry her.” Yoongi said simply. Hoseok looked up, his ears turning red. “If you marry her, then it’ll make her feel better.” Namjoon glanced over at him.

           “Hyung, stop that, now is not the time for them to worry about marriage.”

           “Yeah, well not right now, obviously. But maybe if you bring it up to her, the idea will make her feel better or something. Just knowing you’ll be there.”

           “But she already knows that I will.” Hoseok pointed out.

           “Well, once you tell her you want to get married, then you’re truly trapped, so maybe that’s not a good idea.” Yoongi teased, and Namjoon chuckled. “Aaah, look how red you are, Hobi.” He chuckled a bit, and that only made Hobi’s cheeks turn redder. “I’m only teasing. Namjoon is right, this isn’t the time to be adding another layer of stress with wedding planning.” Hoseok sighed as the waitress finally returned to take their orders. They all put something in that they saw on the menu, and the woman left with a kind smile and assurance that the food would be out soon. Yoongi glanced over to Hoseok, to see him playing with the straw he was given that he didn’t use. He had pulled the wrapping off and was twisting it between his fingers. “I’m sure if you keep assuring her that you’ll be there for her, it’ll help calm her down. Just do that, and I think everything will be fine.”

           “…Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Hoseok said simply.

           “Aren’t I always?” He grinned, and he watched both of the other boys snickered. Hoseok leaned back in his seat, glancing down at his phone to see a picture that you had sent him. You were sitting beside Jungkook, who was throwing up a peace sign. Both of you had lunchboxes in front of you and were eating happily.

           No patients right now. Time to snack >.< (Sent 1:15 p.m.)

           Hoseok smiled a bit, setting his phone face down on the table. While you were at work, he felt at ease. Your mind was somewhat occupied with Jungkook being there, so he could take this time to relax and enjoy the time he had with his friends. However, as his lunch meeting with the others went on, his mind kept wandering about what Yoongi said.

           Marriage, huh?

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

           “See you tomorrow, Noona~.” Jungkook called happily, waving to you as the both of you exited the doctor’s office. Your shift had finished a few hours later, and it was time to go pick up the girls. Jungkook had offered to lend a hand, but you assured that you would be fine and that Hoseok would be coming home soon anyway. As you waved goodbye, you headed down the street and towards the train station. Pulling out your phone, you saw that Hoseok had sent you a text-only a few minutes prior.

           You might make it home before me. I’ve been hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi-Hyung since lunch and we’ve been doing a lot of catching up. I won’t be too much longer, but I’m a phone call away if you need me. Love you <3 (Sent 3:04 p.m.)

           As you continued down towards the train station, you put your phone back in your pocket. You weren’t sure how much longer Hoseok would be out, but you knew that you would most likely be able to get the girls and be home before him. So, your mind began wandering towards what you would make for dinner as you paid the train fee and hopped onto it. The train ride was quiet, as usual. You were never one to strike up a conversation with people on the train, and nobody else seemed to be any different. You just all kind of kept to yourself for about 45 minutes, until people started getting off and on, and the train continued moving down the tracks. It was usually never peaceful because you were constantly frantic about the girls and staying on schedule. However, right now, you felt pretty peaceful. It was nice.

           After picking up the girls, you made your way back home. Min Ja had some homework to get started on, so you sent her to her room to begin that, while Hyo Bin was exhausted from her fun day in daycare, so you set her down for a nap.

           “Good, they’re occupied for a bit. Hobi should be home soon.” You checked the time. It was just about 5 p.m. “Let’s see…” You began to peruse the cabinets and fridge for ingredients, hoping something would help give you inspiration for that night’s dinner. You were so busy cooking, that it took you a moment to hear your phone was ringing. “Hm?” You glanced over, walking towards it. On the screen was a number you didn’t recognize. “Who the hell is this?” You mumbled, picking it up. “Probably the wrong number.” Despite this thought process, you did decide to answer it, hoping that it would stop the person from calling this number with the false hope it was someone they knew. “Hello?”

           “Don’t hang up.” You heard a voice quickly say. As the words entered your ears, your blood ran cold and your heart began to do flips into your throat.

           “W-Weong-Bin?” you mumbled, your voice trembling. “What-.”

           “I need to speak with you.” He said. “Please.”

           “You’re not supposed to contact me. They said they’ll put you in jail if they find out.”

           “They won’t find out, then. Please, I need to talk to you.”

           “I can’t. I need to hang up.” You pulled the phone from your ear, looking down at the screen. The red “END” button sat there, waiting patiently to be pressed. Just as you were about to do so, you heard Weong-Bin clearly on the other line, despite not being on speakerphone.

           “DON’T!” He shouted. You slammed the phone back to your ear, in hopes that the girls wouldn’t hear even though it wasn’t really loud enough. “If you hang up, I swear I’ll keep calling. Just hear me out.” He said sternly. You let out a shaky breath, pressing your back against the counter and looking up at the clock. When the hell was Hoseok coming home?

           “Why should I do that?” you asked curiously. “After everything you’ve put me through.”

           “Me? Oh, please, you’re such a drama queen. I never would’ve gotten as angry as I did those times if you were such a bitch.” Quickly realizing what he said, he let out a shaky breath. “Okay, forget that. I’m sorry. Seriously, hear me out.”

           “…I don’t want to. Please, let me hang up. Leave me alone.” Weong-Bin now wasn’t even bothering to argue with you.

           “Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Don’t you love me?”

           “…I used to.” You said softly. “Until you started beating me up and tearing me down. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

           “You know I never meant any of that.”

           “I thought you didn’t at first. But I caught you sleeping with someone else and you still act like all our problems were my fault.”

           “They were.”

           “N-no they weren’t.”

           “Well if I’m taking the blame for my actions then you better take the blame for yours too.”

           “But you’re not taking any blame. You’re pleading not guilty.” You snapped. “I’m seriously going to hang up.”

           “You won’t. Stop lying.” Weong-Bin snapped. “Just stop playing these stupid games. If you want to be with Hoseok so badly, whatever, be a slut. Don’t drag me through the mud.”

           “…I’m not dragging you through the mud. You’ve made your choices.”

           “I’ve only reacted to how you treat me.”

           “Weong-Bin, please-.”

           “I love you so much. I’m sorry I’ve put you through so much pain, but are you seriously going to drag your family, our kids, through a trial? What if they say Min Ja has to go up and talk about what happened? She’ll be terrified and scared and you’re going to do it because what? I raised my voice a few times? My hand? I’m not the only guy in Korea to do that.”

           “…I know…” you said softly.

           “Please.” He begged. “Please. I just don’t want things to end this way…” You sank down onto the floor, running a hand through your hair. “I still love you, regardless of what’s been happening. You know that, right?” You felt a huge lump in your throat as you tried to think of what you could possibly say to that. However, before you could give a response, you heard the door unlock. You glanced over, seeing Hoseok hum happily as he stepped in.

           “I’m home.” He cooed, sliding his shoes off as the door closed behind him.

“Don’t tell him who you’re talking to.” Weong-Bin said softly on the phone when he heard the faint sound of Hoseok’s voice. When Hoseok got no response, he tilted his head. “Hello?” As he walked farther into the apartment, he saw you crouched down on the floor. “Hey…” He made his way over to you and knelt down. “You okay?” When he reached out to touch you, he saw you flinch back. He saw how terrified you looked. “What’s wrong?” When he still didn’t get a response, he glanced at the phone. “Hm?” Reaching out, he took the phone from you.

“Hobi, no-.” you tried to take the phone back, but Hoseok quickly stood up.

“Who is this?” he asked.

“…How rude, taking the phone away from someone in the middle of the conversation.” You immediately saw Hoseok’s eyes cast down to you. You couldn’t really read them that well, which was a first for Hoseok.

“Why on earth are you calling?” Hoseok asked, putting a hand in his pocket as he turned away from you. “Did prison make you forget your rules if you made bail?”

“I needed to speak with her.”

“That’s not something you just get to do.”

“Hoseok, stay out of this.”

“I’m not going to. I really don’t understand what is going through your mind right now, are you trying to get yourself arrested? Be my guest, if you are.”

“Don’t play smart with me. It doesn’t suit you.” Weong-Bin scoffed. Hoseok glanced over to you, seeing that you were still crouched down on the floor, no longer looking up at him. Hoseok sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t want me to talk to her? Fine. Let me talk to you.”

“Last time I did that, you tried to knock my lights out at my job. No thank you, I’m not interested in listening.” Hoseok let out another aggravated sigh. Once he did, he could hear you did the same, though instead of aggravation in your voice, it sounded like absolute terror was pouring out of your mouth. “I’ll be nice this time. If you call this place again from now until this whole thing is done, I won’t hesitate to get you thrown back in jail. Got it?”

“Why don’t you just go back home and leave her alone, Hoseok? This didn’t even involve you.”

“This is my house now too, so it does. And not only are you bothering my girlfriend but both of her kids. Don’t call her anymore.” Before Weong-Bin could say anything else, Hoseok hung up the phone. Weong-Bin glanced down at the burner phone he had bought just for this, then to his own phone. The background was exposed to show Min Ja and Hyo Bin, the last time he had them, holding up two pictures that they made together, with a big smile on each of their faces. Though he loved the picture, looking at it only made him angrier as he thought about what Hoseok had just said.

“…His girlfriend? Her kids?” he grumbled to himself. “Really, Jung Hoseok? Is that how you feel, you son of a bitch.” He felt the grip he had on his phone tighten, Weong-Bin let out a frustrated scream of absolute rage, flinging the phone against the wall and shattering it into pieces. Leaning back in his seat, Weong-Bin glanced back down at his phone. He was sick and tired of Hoseok, he hated that boy since they first crossed paths in college. Watching as Hoseok strolled through campus hand in hand with you, smiling as he pulled you into a sea of butterfly kisses and back hugs. The huge grin on your face every time you saw Hoseok across the hall, diverting your attention from the conversation you were having with Weong-Bin, or the project you two were working on, to hurry over and fling yourself into his arms. How students who knew of your relationship always spoke about it as if it were the relationship of two famous idols, or even of royals. How when you finally broke up with Hoseok, you were so depressed about everything. Weong-Bin tried so hard to see that smile again, to make you just as happy – no – happier than you could have ever been with Hoseok, but to no avail. And that baby. That stupid fucking baby that you wanted to keep, to use as an excuse to run back to him when Weong-Bin was bending over backward to provide you with the best of the best.

It pissed him off how you never once looked at him with the same love in your eyes as you had with Hoseok. Not then, and not now. Probably not ever.

Weong-Bin didn’t like that. And if that was going to be the case, then he never wanted you to look at Jung Hoseok ever again. If that meant taking serious measures, then god damn it, he was going to make sure those measures were taken.

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[harrypotterfanfictionwriter]

Tree house

Since the end of the war Harry had started to run in the mornings and evenings. It helped him to stay calm and ease his mind, he would also be better prepared for the day after his daily round. 

Also now he lived in a small wooden cabin, close to the forest, he still ran.

At the moment he was running too, going slightly further than normal since it was his free day. 

His feet thumped on the ground, his breathing steady. Eventually he stopped to cast an argumanti at his mouth, eagerly drinking the water. 

A shuffling sound, made him look around. He frowned slightly when he saw nothing. 

However he heard the sounds again and so he looked up. And there hidden between the tree branches, was a tree house. 

"Hello is somebody there?", he called out and okay even he had to admit that wasn't his smartest move. 

When he got no reaction, he grabbed his wand in one hand and started to search for the ladder so he could take a look inside. 

He only needed to focus slightly or he saw the ladder hidden between the other trees. 

Quickly he made way to it and started to climb up, wand raised if someone dangerous would be inside. If it's a muggle child he would just have to say that he took the stick with him as defense. 

Once on top of the ladder he climbed inside the tree house and was slightly disgusted. 

The inside of the tree house was a mess; papers lying around, clothes thrown in a corner and a bundle of blankets in the corner. 

Upon looking closer he saw the papers were actually copies of the daily prophet. 

He frowned, so it was a wizard or witch living here. But why would anyone live in such mess? 

The movement of the bundle of blankets made him look up. Carefully he moved closer, holding his wand up. 

Finally a head popped out of the bundle of blankets, the rest of the person's body soon following. 

"Lumos", he cast as he walked right to the person. 

The man's once blond hair was cluttered with dust and dirt. His face not much better, but slightly cleaner nonetheless. The clothes he wore wear thin and torn, desperately needing fixing. 

"Fuck Malfoy, what happened to you" he swore. 

Draco who stood still the whole time he examined him, now raised his wand too. 

"Nothing of your business Potter. Just go on with your perfect life just like the rest of your friends who were on the right side of the war", the words didn't hold any bite and apparently took too much energy from the other as he fainted. 

Harry frowned slightly at the words, before making his decision. He picked Draco up and apparated them to his house. 

Here he called for Kreacher, who still served him after the war. He asked the house elf to clean Draco and dress him in pajamas, thinking it would be awkward if he did it himself. 

The elf agreed of course, delighted to be able to take care of the young Malfoy heir. 

While Kreacher took care of Draco, he prepared tea for two, taking the cups to the living room. Adding some sandwiches as afterthought. 

He didn't have to wait long or Kreacher reappeared with Draco, who was awake again. 

"Thank you Kreacher", Harry said before the elf was gone again with a light bow. 

"Go ahead and sit. I prepared us lunch" he gestured Draco to the couch. 

After throwing him a suspicious look, Draco sat down. Apparently too hungry and thirsty to stand the temptation of tea and sandwiches. 

Harry looked as Draco ate. The male looked skinny, and not the skinny he always has been, but abnormal, I'm starving skinny. Draco's eyes also had lost their shine. 

Once Draco stopped eating and all the sandwiches were gone he noticed, he spoke up. 

"What happened to you? You looked alright at the end of 8th year" 

During the 8th year of Hogwarts both Ron, Hermione, him and Pansy, Blaise and Draco agreed on a truce. However after 8th year they lost all contact. 

At his question, Draco glared at him like he had asked the stupidest question in the whole world. 

"I'm not welcome to come work anywhere. In Britain they all know I used to be on his side. In other countries they don't know it but as soon as they see the dark mark they throw me out. The only place I would have a chance at work would be in America, but the ministry refuses to give an ex death eater a permit to travel there."

Harry sat, mouth open. It was supposed to be better for everyone once they won the war. He spoke up at Draco's trial, and he was spoken free from all charges thanks to the golden boy speaking up for him. 

"But but what about Malfoy Manor and the fortune?" he sputtered. 

"Taken by the Ministry. Everything once Mother passed away because of the diseases she got from the war. They were as kind that I could keep my wand and some robes" at this Draco looked away. 

Harry could feel his magic starting to get out of control, filling the room. How dare the ministry to act like this? How dare Kingsley to allow it all to happen right under his nose? 

"Potter stop. You're destroying the room" Draco's scared voice, broke his focus on his anger and sadness for Draco and what happened to him. 

"Sorry. That happens sometimes." with a wave of his wand he fixed his mess that the burst of magic had done. 

Draco only nodded, apparently understanding. 

"Alright you stay here till I get the mess with the ministry fixed. I have a guest room so you can stay there. Kreacher will help you recover when I'm gone", Harry rambled on, "we can get your some clothes tomorrow and shoes. Oh and a proper cleaning for your wand." 

"Wait what no! I'm not some charity" Draco protested. 

"No you're not, but you deserve a normal life with a job and maybe eventually a partner too so they can convince you you're worthy of someone's care again instead of thinking you're a charity case". 

At this Draco shut up. That did actually sound nice and wasn't that what he wanted all along?

"But I don't deserve that. Everyone made that more than clear" he mumbled. 

"Yes but I'm not everyone. Come on I will show you the guest room"

And with that the discussion was over, the two of them slowly moving up the stairs. 

The coming days would be filled with Harry being at the ministry fighting for the rights of ex death eaters until a law would be passed which stated that all ex death eater were not to be treated different and had every right on a basic life including work, shelter and food. 

They called it the dragon law, in honor of Harry Potters husband. 

[svustories]

Learning to Love You p2.

     To start with the two of them just remain quiet with their thoughts before Olivia finally asks "So, you and Y/N how did that happen?"

       He answered “We met when I was covering for Davis that time at major crimes, I know that I was only there for a short time, but somehow she just seemed to get under my skin, and I didn’t honestly think that we’d see each other again, then she got the promotion and moved squads, meaning that when she came to see their DA we would see each other sometimes and on occasion I’d see her around the court as well. One night as I was coming out of court from doing a prep, she was arguing with a man on the court steps, even though I guessed that she could most probably stand up for herself, I still sort of ended up stepping in."

        Olivia smiles and says "So you were her knight in shining armor?"

       He chuckles and carries "I suppose I was. Anyway, it turned out that the person she'd been arguing with was her ex, as we ended up going to Forlini's for a drink, and they had split up last year when she had caught him cheating on her, to cut a slightly long story short seeing as you do know the details, but you remember the Mathew's case?”

       “The one where he set up the burglary and then caught the alleged burglar about to rape the girlfriend and beat the perp up?”

       He replies "Yes, that one. Even though she didn't work with you her ex was thinking that he could use her to find out if you had got him on the suspect list or alert him if he was about to be arrested, which is what they were arguing about on the court steps. He had originally approached her a couple of days or so before that, and had since then refused to take any of his calls, texts, and emails, so he'd found out that she'd be in court that day and had turned up to try and catch her."

       “It was lucky that you were there to rescue her, so what happened over him, before we finally got him of course?”

       He says "In the end, I put Y/N in touch with Rita, because he just wouldn't stop hounding her, and of course, I couldn't help her with things because otherwise I would have had to recuse myself from the case if I'd have seen any contents of the things that he had sent to her. As it was we did come close to losing him on the day before he began on his evidence because he turned up at the precinct and was waiting for her, and of course got caught straight away with the way that her captain made sure that every time she left the building someone was always with her, so he was in court for that.”

       “But the good thing was that the judge on her case did revoke his bail after talking to the judge on our case, so how did the two of you end up dating?”

       He smiles and answers “Well, after the guilty verdict on him, I went to the precinct to give her the news, as I thought that it might be better to do that rather than letting her know via the phone or something. That night we both went for a drink to celebrate and came out of it just as friends. After that we just met up every so often for a drink, dinner or a show to get together and just catch up, then after a while, I began to realize that I was falling for her. For a while, I wasn't sure if she felt the same or not, especially as I did have to play things carefully because of what had happened with her ex, and I don't just mean with the cheating, as he had treated her pretty badly mentally wise too, especially with the things that he did to her to try not to let her find out about the cheating and then after that as he tried to win her back again, and of course, just when she thought that it was all over again with him, back he came with the case stuff. So, in the end, I invited her to be my plus one at one of those stuffy DA's dinners, she accepted and boy did she look stunning all dressed up. I'd sent a car to get her and we met in my office as I was finishing getting ready, as she straightened my bow tie for me, I couldn't resist not kissing her and it began from there."

       “So what about the engagement, when did that happen and what did they need to see you for?”

       He sighs and then with a small smile answers "Well, since that night we got together we did take things slowly, most of it because of her ex, but at Christmas, we were going to be doing this big family do, as Mami and Abuela were going to be coming with us as well, her father is a priest and is fairly strict with all of his children, so if we were going to be under his roof and because we weren't married or engaged we weren't going to be allowed to sleep together. Don't get me wrong I did already know that I wanted to marry her and had already asked her father for her hand in marriage but wasn't sure how I wanted to do it. Anyway, when we went away to St Bart's just before the last big trial that we did before Christmas, things just felt like it was the right time. On the second night there we went out to dinner and she ended up wearing the same dress that she'd worn the night we got together, and it felt even more right, so on the way back to our room, as we walked back on the beach I just got down on one knee and proposed. She had also been trying to work out what she wanted to do for a little while now, but had said that if we were going to have a family, then she didn't want to be a cop anymore, especially as we didn't know if we would be lucky to have a child or if we would end up having to look at other ways of having a family, which is a problem that she’s known about for years. So on advice from the doctors she came off the pill a few months back, then as this case came up she told her bosses that this would be her last case and she handed in her notice, never thinking or knowing that we’d already been lucky.”

       “You mean that she’s already pregnant?”

       He nods and continues "That's why they needed to see me because with the surgery there is a risk to the baby with the anesthetic, but she wanted me to know. Before they took her to the theater they ran tests to check things out and she’s close to three months, so please don’t tell anyone yet, as we want to get safely through all of this first, but I think she’ll want to tell the family first.”

       He then pauses and says “Speaking of which I should let them know what’s going on, as I shouldn’t think that anyone has got in touch with them.”

       “Look if you want I can go and call them if you’d like me too, I can also tell your mom if you’d like me too? You know you don’t have to do this all on your own Rafa, and I promise that I won’t tell anyone about her being pregnant until the both of you are ready to announce it.”

       As he says “I know and thank you.” Olivia gets up, as he then continues “I’ll call my mom and if you do her parents, I’m sure that they will then go and tell the others what has happened, but please assure them that I’m here and that if they need to know anything they can just give me a call.”

       As she goes to leave the room she just lightly pats him on the shoulder and tells him that she’ll go back to him once again after she has made the call, leaving him alone to make the call that he wants to make.

      A/N: So here’s part two of this story & I hope that you enjoy it! 

      Tags: @scarletsoldierrr  If you would also like to be tagged in the stories, then please don’t hesitate to ask me!

[gwiiyeoweo]

What Regis believes to be Noctis speaking for his imaginary friend, turns out to not be so imaginary after all.

Pairing: Noctis & Ardyn, Noctis & Regis, Regis & Ardyn Rating: G

"Daddy, can my friend sleep over?" 

Noctis peeks out from under the cover, eyes threatening to resort to his infamous puppy dog look. The boy already has his fingers toying with the top edge of his blanket, like they're little paws instead of hands, and his lower lip is ready for that little soft quiver. Even under the dim glow of his carbuncle-shaped night light, Regis can easily see the wet glassy look of his baby boy’s blue eyes. 

Cor really needs to stop teaching his son these tricks. Horrible influence. 

"Hm," Regis starts, rubbing a hand at his beard. "They can stay as long as they want, so long as they pay the rent. A prince's room does not come cheap, after all."

Immediately Noctis turns that woeful look into a bright pearly smile, his shining eyes no longer threatening tears but radiating genuine joy. He also scoots to the far end of his bed to turn half his body upside down, torso hanging over the edge as he peers into the darkness beneath. 

"Dad says you can stay!" Noctis excitedly whispers to the dust and crumbs under his bed. Or maybe to a stuffed toy. He hefts himself back up and returns to position, wiggling into a comfortable spot smack dab in the middle of bed. 

Regis should make it illegal for any child to be that adorable; it makes him want to clutch his heart and keel over, and Insomnia really can’t afford to have their king die from such unfortunate circumstances at the moment. 

But then Noctis hits him with some fancy wording. "He said he accepts your conditions and will provide proper compensation."

Regis lifts his brows a little at that. Has Noctis secretly been hanging outside his office, or did his governess decide on an accelerated vocabulary curriculum? Regis isn't sure if he should be impressed or concerned. 

Well, kids do tend to say the darndest things anyway. But Noctis doesn’t give him anymore surprises after that, just the usual demand for a goodnight kiss before getting tucked into bed. And Regis can’t quite say no to any of that.

“Hey, dad.”

“Yes?”

“My friend wants to know when he has to pay the rent. For staying in my room.”

Regis was putting away the last of Noctis’ toys into a chest when he looks up to see his boy clearing off the scraps of colored paper and crayons from the floor. With how brazen Niflheim’s become, the war just requires all the more attention and effort from the king; before long, he fears it may soon end up being days before he can even have a little short lunch with his own son. So now, whatever scant time he has, he pours it all upon Noctis, even if that means playing make-believe and acting along to a child’s nonsensical imagination and getting crayon shavings in his beard. 

It’s still adorable though. Especially how Noctis remembers the little “deal” they made with his imaginary friend. 

“Ah, let’s see…” Regis lifts his head up and stares at the ceiling, tapping a finger to his chin as he feigns deep thought trying to remember the week’s schedule. “I do believe I have a nine o’clock opening in my office. Would your friend like to drop off payment then?”

He’s only half serious, curious to see what form of payment Noctis will conjure up, if any. Another drawing to add to Regis’ precious collection, a snack or cookie baked up with the help of their many capable chefs, or maybe a shiny beetle found in their gardens. Hopefully nothing poisonous. Though Regis would accept it with all the same gratitude. 

“Umm, okay, I’ll tell him later,” Noctis answers back, eyes still drawn to his clean-up duty. 

Ah, probably “later” when Regis tucks him into bed. He wonders, briefly, what shape or form this friend comes in — probably Carbuncle-shaped, given his son’s affection for it.

“Noctis!”

“Hi, daddy!” Noctis swivels around, immediately dropping the soccer ball he’s been kicking against a tree and running up to his father. “Did you get the rent?”

Regis has his hands turning Noctis this way and that, searching for any and all signs of damage or wear or blood. His boy just giggles, thinking it’s a game of sorts with the way his father has him spinning around, but Regis is silently screaming inside with panic. 

“Ardyn said he left it on your desk.” Noctis says it with such a chip in his voice, that it’s almost comical.

When Regis had walked into his office this morning with his faithful cup of Joe — in a lumpy ceramic mug crafted by his dear son — it was with the innocent assumption of completing some paperwork and chatting with Clarus over a few pedantic details regarding a couple new bills. 

And not, say, approaching his desk to find a polished platter and cloche waiting for him. Regis had smiled into his mug at that, figuring it was the promised “rent” Noctis — rather, his imaginary friend, of course — mentioned. A little cake, or perhaps breakfast, he had thought.

Not the decapitated head of Iedolas Aldercapt, emperor of Niflheim who’s hellbent on conquering all of Lucis. 

Ex-emperor, now, actually. 

(The head had been surprisingly lacking the mess of blood, he’d later realize.)

But right now, he needs to make sure his son was safe. Granted, there had been no screams of panic or trails of blood, no emergency calls or messengers to rush secrets to him. Even Clarus or Cor, often the first and foremost to report anything awry to him, had been off doing whatever their regular Shield and Marshall duties entailed. Clarus would, of course, naturally gravitate toward Regis’s side once he discovered where his King actually went. And Cor would hunt him down to update him on the list of new Crownsguard recruits and who had actually passed the trials. 

As far as they both know, Regis is supposed to be finishing his cup of coffee in his office but! Strangely clean-cut head of Lucis’ enemy on his desk!

‘On my desk,’ Regis remembers, as he’s done patting down Noctis and the boy looks sick of his prodding now. It clicks, but he’s almost determined not to believe it. He gently places his hands on Noctis' shoulders, trying his best to not appear too grave as he looks into innocent eyes. ‘Where his friend’s rent is supposed to be.’

Well, shit.

“Noctis,” Regis barely manages without choking, “you said your… friend? Left his, ah, rent? On my desk. Do you know what it is?”

Noctis only shakes his head. “No, Ardyn just said it should help with all the fighting outside. He wouldn’t tell me.”

At least that’s something to feel relieved about. Despite knowing his son would have to one day take up the crown and all the world’s burdens surrounding it, he would like to shield his son from it all until he could no longer; a child at Noctis’ age had no business handling, let alone knowing about, a corpse’s head.

Regis sighs and lets his hands go slack, finally releasing Noctis to pinch at the bridge of his nose. There's a hundred and one questions swirling in his head, and each one just adds to the aching pressure in his skull. 

"Ardyn!" 

Regis whips his head up and around, eyes trailing after Noctis sprinting to some particularly shady trees where a tall man emerges. His boy wraps his arms around the stranger's waist, essentially latching onto him like a (freakin' adorable) leech, and the man humors him with a few gentle pats to the head. 

Regis almost mistakes him for a homeless man, mistaking his ornate clothing for rags. His attire is… Unique, to put it in kind terms. Still, odd fashion or not, Regis keeps his guard up, ready to strike at any moment should he feel any threat, magic thrumming just underneath his skin in anticipation. 

"Why, hullo there, Your Majesty." The fellow — Ardyn, according to Noctis — takes his hat off with a flourish and a deep bow at the waist, but the smirk he wears lacks the sincerity and reverence he pretends to hold. "Will my payment be sufficient for the month's rent?" 

Regis has so many questions he doesn't even know where to start. 

So naturally, the first thing that comes out of his mouth isn’t a question at all, though his tone could almost mistake it as one. “You’re not imaginary.”

Ardyn, with his ever-widening (and shit-eating) smile, knows. “I am very much real, Your Majesty.”

Noctis was sent off with hardly a fight, thanks to Ardyn’s bribery. 

“Alright, you little rascal, scamper off to your room now. I’ve left a shiny little present on your bed,” he had said. Noctis didn’t need to be told twice, dashing off and nearly running into a manservant. 

It earned Regis and Ardyn an hour to sit in the office, the silver platter hiding a lifeless head all that separated the two. And it’s a riveting hour: ninety percent of it being Ardyn fluttering his hands and speaking in a fanciful tongue about who he is, what he’s done, and what he will do; ten percent of it being Regis doubting all that he’s believed so far, including what his father and his father’s father has told him and what outlandish claims the Ardyn fellow spieled. 

Ardyn, as in Ardyn Lucis Caelum, by the way. Which only served to throw Regis into another absurd loop.

This great ancestor — the Scourge, Adagium, the Fellstar, whatever — reaches over the desk and helps himself to Regis’ cold mug of coffee, twisting his face into a grimace after a sip. “For a King, one would think he’d care for better beans.”

“One would think the King would not be sharing coffee with someone as you.”

“Ah, touché.” 

“You can’t truly entertain the idea that my trust is to be had so easily.”

“I don’t.” Ardyn shrugs his shoulders, the mug nearly sploshing cold coffee with how carelessly he holds it. “There’s really nothing, aside from myself, stopping you from trying to imprison me back in Angelgard. Or wondering if this is all some scheme of me attempting to worm my way into your good graces, to earn your faith only to trod upon it at the end, delivering darkness everlasting upon this good Star. And I really would prefer you to kindly not try to stick me back into that dusty old crypt.”

Regis only eyes him with suspicion, lips straightened into an unamused line. But despite Ardyn’s terrible personality and ill-timed humor, his gut tells him that Ardyn speaks at least some truth, that this dangerous embodiment of darkness and plague may very well prove to be an invaluable ally. Regis is loathe to admit it, but… he’s already trying to come up with some cover-up story to throw to the council on who Ardyn is and why some strangely-dressed fellow is suddenly leisurely strolling around the Citadel, inevitably with Noctis glued to his heels.

Ugh, that’s a strange image: Noctis clinging to his destined enemy like a curious puppy.  

But Ardyn continues his babbling, setting down Regis’ prized mug back on the desk so he has both hands free to do his dramatic gestures, flitting them in the air and making exaggerated motions. “You see, I’m a stubborn man of sorts. Very stubborn. When a god decrees I abide by his will, to make myself the world’s villain only to let myself die in the end, well — I must say, that sort of thing simply does not sound like a jolly good time. This is me, as the young ones like to say, sticking it to the man.”

Regis glances at the platter, the closed cloche hiding the ashen face of Aldercapt, when he shoots back a dry retort. "Or sticking it to the man's neck." 

"O-ho! So you do have a little humor. Glad to see some of Somnus' drab qualities were bred out." Ardyn claps his hands in joy before reaching his hand out, over the desk and above the platter. "I think we'll get along splendidly, dear nephew. "

Hm. Yeah. Ardyn is definitely not gonna call him nephew around these parts, or the best case scenario is a scandal regarding an ancestor’s infidelity. 

Regis eyes him warily, as if the hand could strike him as does a viper. "Upon your word, you will do no harm to my son or my kingdom. And you would wait upon Noctis' final days, when his hair grows white and his eyes weary, to take your last breath upon this world."

"Oh, must I have everything in writing for you? Shall I sign my name in blood while I'm at it? I'm sure there's some old magicks we can find to swear this oath on, if you're feeling so insistent." Ardyn gives a heavy eye roll. "Yes, Your Majesty, I do so swear. Besides, while I look forward to my day of rest, there is just much to do! Being locked up in a prison for so many centuries then becoming trapped in a perpetual winter steals so much of one's life pleasures. I really would like to visit that famous chocobo ranch Lucis speaks so fondly of. I once had a bird myself, a rare black beauty; and Niflheim, unfortunately, has no such feathery creatures."

Regis extends his hand, albeit just a tad begrudgingly, to shake on their agreement, but he hears a familiar pitter patter outside his door that only grows louder and heavier. 

Noctis bursts through the door, glimmering with a faint blue and smelling of magic; he must have warped his way to Regis' office, running in between each shot to save on stamina. 

The father in him wants to feel pride at how quickly his son has picked up their family tricks, but the other father in him zeroes in on the very large, very sharp thing in Noctis' hands. It's nearly as tall as the boy himself. 

It takes Regis a second too long to realize Noctis holds no ordinary sword. 

It's the Sword of the Mystic. The fucking Mystic. 

"Dad! Dad, look at the sword Ardyn got me!" Noctis nearly topples over trying to lug the thing around, barely avoiding chopping his little leg off. 

Sword who? Ardyn what? 

"How many does that make now?" Ardyn asks, looking as if everything is right as rain. He smiles — something like amusement, something like fondness — when Noctis screws his face up in concentration and a dim shimmer spreads from his hands to the entirety of the sword. 

And poof, the blade disappears in sparks of white and blue. 

"Uhhh. I have a bow, a shield, and a stick." Noctis counts them off on his hand, pulling one finger up for each weapon he lists.

"Scepter, little Noctis."

"Okay."

“Stop right there.” Regis butts in, standing from his seat and circling around the desk to Ardyn. It’s not much, but at least some of his anxiety disappeared when the sword did, the threat of his son slicing off a finger or a hand no longer an immediate threat. But he pauses to look at Noctis, breathing out a weary sigh, and shakes his head. “No, Noctis, not you. Not literally. You may move.”

Noctis unfreezes, who stood ramrod still with his arms in the air when Regis gave the order to ‘stop,’ and lets his hands fall back to his side. He looks ready to vibrate with excitement, no doubt ready to chuck out his newly-acquired sword and start swinging it around. And probably chase Gladiolus down with it, if his past week’s grumblings of “Gladio’s always picking on me!” and “One day I’m gonna beat him up!” are anything to go by. 

‘Oh Six, ’ Regis thinks, ‘how do I begin to explain this. ’

But before he thinks of a cover-up story, Regis has some very choice words to share with Ardyn, none of which are meant for little young ears. So he picks his old, forgotten mug of coffee and hands it off to Noctis, tasking him with a simple enough errand while he picks some bones with Ardyn. “Noctis dear, could you get your father a new warm cup of coffee?”

“Oh! Do bring me one too, little scamp,” Ardyn butts in, despite having complaints of the coffee earlier. 

Noctis totters off, kindly closing the door behind him before gunning it to the kitchens, and Regis hears the tell-tale stomping and the crackling chimes of their family magic.  

Regis hopes the chefs would do him the favor of distracting his son with some freshly baked cookies, because he’s going to crack open the book of scathing tongues and dip Ardyn in boiling words by the time that coffee is brewed.

It occurs to him after he tucks his son into bed, after Noctis asks if Ardyn can stay in his room again. 

“Please tell me that you have, in fact, not been living under my son’s bed this entire time.” Regis asks, though he almost doesn’t want to hear the answer to that. 

“Oh heavens no!” Ardyn looks aghast, splaying his hand across his chest like he’s been affronted. 

Regis wants to believe him, as the idea of a middle-aged man hiding underneath his boy’s bed makes for an uncomfortable image indeed. 

So of course, Ardyn has to ruin it when he opens his mouth again. “Not the entire time. Though your servants could put a little more care into tidying up his room; it is a bit dusty under there.”

[rosalind-of-arden]

Sword and Pen Reread, chapter 2

You all know how this goes. Morgan, Wolfe, and Santi, worldbuilding, loose plot threads, let’s see what we find.

Here we have the ex-Archivist trying to ally with the Burners. We don’t see the Burners again after this, do we? Am I forgetting something? So for some reason, they reject his offer. Lots of reasons: plain old lack of trust of an offer that’s obviously too good to be true, Philadelphia, awareness of the printing press and how it will change things, Philadelphia...

This letter is available in the Codex “as a copy from later collection.” So at some point, someone from the Library got their hands on a copy of this letter. Post-canon collaboration between the Library and the Burners to preserve history? More underhanded methods? Obtained while investigating former Curia for post-canon trials?

Oh, look, it’s Wolfe burying himself in work to avoid showing/having feelings. If he focuses on the papers, he can pretend Jess is going to be ok.

But not all that well. He’s pale, sweaty, speaking in short sentences, and looking at the documents very intensely (literally, the word “intensity” is used twice in one paragraph to describe his expression). Those sound like panic attack symptoms.

But also, looking pale and sweaty could be poisoning symptoms. Wolfe breathed some poison too.

I know most of y’all are shipping Jess and Dario, and I like some Jess/Dario myself, but seeing them interact here makes me want to see some friendship development with these boys post-canon. 

Dad Wolfe went back into the room full of poisonous gas to rescue his son. Pretend you don’t care all you want, Wolfe, you’re not fooling anyone.

Wolfe is calling Santi “Nic” when talking to the boys. Little signs of intimacy.

High Garda salute: ”a fist over his heart combined with a bow”

Wolfe/Santi hugs! In a crowded public place in broad daylight, no less. Is this a sign that with the Library’s oppressive old leadership gone, they both feel more comfortable showing affection? A response to the stress they’re both under, the need for comfort overcoming their usual reservations?

Wolfe: “I’ll get him to a Medica.” Santi: “I’ll have a Medica look him over.” Wolfe and Santi, arguing over parenting duties.

Wolfe looks unwell enough that Santi notices it and points out that he’s looking pale. Wolfe says he “only got a mild dose of the poison.” Who, me, looking for post-canon health problems for Wolfe? Never!

Field promotion for Santi! He gets the job because he’s so damn good at it, and really, are any of us surprised when we find out that he’s keeping it? He’s in his element here.

Jess observes that Dario is “fragile” here. A lot going on, potentially. The shock of seeing Jess almost die would be enough on its own. There’s also his extremely recent capture (they only had him one night, but he was badly beaten when they threw him in the arena). And the looming choice of loyalties.

“I’ll leave you in your commander’s capable hands. Rest. You’ve done well. And, Nic? Try not to get knifed in the back.” Translation: “I love both of you so fucking much.”

And how does Santi say “I love you” back? With a lengthy description of his defense strategies. Translation: “I love you too, and I will protect you.” 

And then he flat out calls Wolfe “love”, and I am fucking melting.

Wolfe and Santi are planning to go home after this. The last time they were home was when the Mesmer came to retrieve Wolfe’s memories; Santi was sent to Rome the next day, and Wolfe followed shortly after. Whatever trauma the Mesmer stirred up, it’s not enough to keep them from wanting to go home again. (But is there angst potential when they do? Oh fuck yes. I may just have to add a chapter to “Here, in this House”.)

It’s not explicitly stated when Wolfe and Dario leave and whether it’s together or separately. Jess isn’t paying attention. But both are then unaccounted for, at least for a little while. Canon gap potential?

Who does Santi trust Jess with? Glain. Who has been field promoted, too. Like Santi, she says she’s expecting it to be temporary.

High Garda compound is on a hill overlooking the city. Almost as high as the Serapeum, the Lighthouse, and the Iron Tower. 

Scholars rarely go to the docks. High Garda go there only for work.

There are “bars, taverns, and brothels.” Confirmed legal sex work, for all our smut-writing needs.

List of smuggling organizations: The Helsinki coalition, the Li Chang tong, the Tartikoffs.

[kmelanin]

Life After Murder- JJK

idol visuals-

AN- Okay, so ive finally decided to post this. I know I know, i was suppose to post the Prince J, but guess what! idgaf lol, plus this is ready and that isnt because ive decided to changed a few things. I hope you love.

Warning: Some of the things they will be doing is highly illegal. SEx? 

Summary: You have entered a release program after complelting ten years of prison. Will you make it out into to the real world? Or will some officers put you back?

_____________________

One

Out of the window you were watching as trees go by. You sat on the boring tan bus with three other girls. You couldn't believe that you were actually out, finally.

Ten years ago, when you were 15 years old you found your best friend on her bed with a knife in her side. You freaked out because no one was home, you were meant to come over and hang out until your dad got home later that night, your mom never coming home. She had fell while trying to cut something. You remembered her words, ‘no, don't call my mother, she will never let me stay home by myself again.’ So you didn't. What you didn't know was that she was dying, the knife had punctured an important organ. You knew that the knife should come out and that you should call something. Her eyes were closed when you decided to reach for the knife and grab it, and in that moment her parents opened the door.

You didn't know she was already dead before you tried to reach it, you didn't know that the system would do you so wrong. They had no other evidence other than your finger prints on the knife.

They tried you as a adult, and you were sent away. You parents refused to visit you or talk to you. The only person that was there for you while you were locked up was your sister, she always sent you money, and made sure to visit you. But that stopped when she moved away with her boyfriend leaving you alone.

But now, you were out after ten years, you were ecstatic since you were suppose to serve fifteen. But since you accepted the offer to enter a three month program, you would be able to officially free.

You stood in front of the bus, in front of the building you will be in for the next three months. You stood in the middle of the two other girls. In front of you three were four officers.

“Good Morning. I am Officer Hyuna. I am the main officer here. You three have been chosen to be eligible for this program so don't abuse this chance. Including you three, there are four other groups of three from four other prisons making you one of fifteen.” She then pulls out some index cards from her pocket. “You will be assigned to your own officer, it's for your own protection and they will be a guide so you don't ruin your chance here. But they can only help you so much.” She passes them out to us, in no particular order. “Don't look yet. On the back of these cards you will see a name, which belongs to one of these officers.” She points to the cops next to her that barely moved the whole time. “Please introduce yourselves.”

In sync, they walk forward standing in front of you three. Then the first one goes.

“Hello,” He bows slightly. “I am Park Jimin, Officer Park to you, or just Park. I am 28 years old and Korean, and I'm here to make sure that you are ready to go out into the real world. I hope we don't have any problems. Good Luck.” He bows again. You had to admit, as you look at him, he was practically glowing, as his talked his blonde hair stayed perfectly styled and his teeth were blinding. You hoped his name was on the back of your card. You will admit, being in prison for ten years means no sex, or kissing, no touching. And so badly you wanted to be.

“Hi, I am Kim Taehyung. There are many Kims here. So you can call me anything, but I expect respect. I am 27 years old and Korean. Good luck in this program, I don't want to see you behind bars again.” He bows and nods his head. He was a different type of beautiful. Almost the opposite of Jimin, his hair was loose and ruffled. It was also a dark brown almost black. You couldn't understand how pretty he was. And when you looked down at the last officer, you knew that the next three months were going to be hard.

“I am Jeon Jeongguk, officer Jeon. I am the youngest officer here at the age of 26, and i’m also Korean. I am here to help and guide you through this program.” He nods a little and his eyes meet yours. You frowned a looked away. Just one glance and your heart was beating ten times faster. His hair was like Taehyung's but a little more put together, faded out all around leading up to the dark locks.

“Great, now Inmates. Introduce yourself, and don't forget to include your charges. Then flip your card over and say who you have” Officer Hyuna says.

You were interested in who the other girls where and what they were in for. The girl to your left, and in front of Park, begins.

        “My name is Zhang Pomo, but you can Po. I’m chinese and black since we are telling each other what our race is. I’m 24, and I robbed a grandmother's home, which caused her to have a heart attack, so I was charged with Robbery and Murder.” Then she flips her card over. You and the other girl looked over, you were thrown off when you seen some symbols that you didn’t recognize.

          “I might be asian, but I can't read Korean.” Pomo sasses.

          “When those cuffs are on, you are to talk when allowed.” Hyuna says sternly. You almost forgot about the cuffs holding your wrists together in front of yourself. You were so used to them. “Yes its Korean, it’s their names. They didn’t want you to know who you got until the very end. Next”

         When she was done explaining she looked at you.

          “Inmate 56190, or YN. I’m 25 years old, my mother is Hispanic and my father was Black, and I was charged with Murder.” You kept it simple and bland. Being in a prison for ten years has taught you not to trust anyone or let your guard down. You couldn’t afford to get more time. You’ve already missed so much, as a convicted Murder,you could only do so much in life now. You then held up your card for the Guards to see.You looked at each of them to see which one you got. But they all kept straight faces. When they nodded, you put it down. When you looked back up you seen Jeon looking at you, but quickly look away.

           “My name is Faye Winters, I am 29 years old and i’m cuban and white. I’m here for Kidnaping my daughter and for killing my ex husband.” She then hold up her card and pulls it back down.

            “Okay and close your eyes.” Hyuna demands and you do. “Hold your hands out.” She says. “Guards, go to your inmate and take her cuffs off. When you feel them, you may open your eyes and find out who you have. After that. you may enter the building, he will show you your room, give you clothes to change into since you were suppose to take a shower before you came. Then you will eat and we will move on from there.”

              You hear their footsteps move forward, you held your hands out and instantly a pair of hands grabs them and started to unhook your cuffs with a key. You slowly open your eyes and you had to use all of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Of course you got Jeon Jungkook.

               “Congratulations, You are no longer inmates.” Hyuna says and walks away. You looked over and seen that Faye got Jimin and Pomo got Taehyung. When you looked up at Jungkook he once again was looking at you.

             “What?” You ask irritated. He just laughs a little and shake his head a little.

              “Oh nothing, let’s get you out of these stripes, yea?” He then turns around and enters starts to walk towards the building, you follow leaving the others behind.

“YN?” He asks confused. He was wearing black sweats and a red pull over, and his hair was all wild and had that ‘just had sex’ effect. Which made your jealousy boil.

“So we are going to right to your room. In this program, we don’t want to treat you like a prisoner, because you are no longer one. So don’t act like one. We do have cells in the basement to hold you if you act out.” You two walked down a long hallway until you turned on corner which lead to a area that was shaped like a square with one door on each wall. And a desk in the middle.

“This is where I or another Guard on a different shift will be.” He then walks to the first door. “This is your room.” He opens the door and you were smiling like crazy. Not only was it almost three times bigger then the cells you were in. There was a actual fucking bed instead of a metal bed. There was also a closed in bathroom.

“Since you were 15 when you were arrested. We were put in this unit, because in the other two door is a kitchen and a washer and dryer so you will be in there a bit and the other room is like a rec room where you do your indoor activities.”

“And where will you be?” You ask as your face settles into a frown. You’ve been told you had one of the worst resting bitch faces they’ve seen in the last 10 years. Just your face alone has started fights and gotten you put in the hole.

“I’m going to be right there most of the time. And the rest right next to you.” He smirks pointing back at the desk in the middle. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought of him being next to you most of the time. It's not that he smells or his annoying, in fact he smells fucking delicious. And that's the problem.

Since you were in prison at the age of 15, you were immediately thrown into the scary adult world, since you were trialed as a adult. You were in the juvenile section until you were 19, then they put you in the adult quarters. You had a rude awakening, especially when your bunk mates would touch you or try to seduce you at night. As time went on, sometimes you let them do stuff because you wanted it. But you knew that you liked guys as well. Your 8th year in, one of the guards gave you a special gift. You weren't sure if you wanted it or not, but the next time you did. You would play games with them throughout the day, it would take your mind off of it.

Your tenth year, they were caught and sentences to twenty years each, and you were put into this fucking program.

Now, Jeon Jungkook was dangerous. All three of the guards were only because they were attractive and much younger then the guards inside the walls. You couldn't help it, you could easily seduce someone, and you so desperately wanted to find out how Jungkook worked, so you could figure him out. But, then you knew that if you wanted to get out, you had to be good.

“So, clothes?” You ask.

“Right, if you look in the closet their should be some shirts hanging up and some khakis folded. I'm not sure what color shirts you wanted so I got black and white.” He points toward the standing closet in the corner of the room, across from the bed. You nod.

“Anything is better than these stripes.” You walk over to the closet, and find exactly what he said. You were excited to see some sweatpants as well, and some bigger black tees. “I can wear anything in here?” You ask looking over to him standing in the doorway.

“I mean the sweats are your pajamas, but there isn't a rule saying you can't.” He smiles softly and nods, giving you the go that you could wear anything. “I'm going to let you get dressed, let me know when you are done then we can go get some food.” He nods and he shuts the door. You quickly changed, and you through the suit in the trash.

There were some simple black off brand converses. You slip them on with the socks they gave you and fixed your hair a little in the mirror. You thanked the universe that you got the black thick straight hair from your mom. Some of the colored girls end up getting dreads or cutting it off because they can’t give it the proper care. And you wouldn’t want that. But you could use a hair cut and deep condition.

When you opened the door again you seen Jeon sitting at the desk on the phone. When he sees you walk out he hold up one finger, telling you to wait. You shut your door and stood in front of it, like you were used to. He was on the phone for another two minutes, then he hung up.

“Okay, so this program is to teach you how to live a normal everyday life. The Basics. Since you were locked up at a young age, you were taught most normal way of life, only a prisoners way. So I just got off of the phone with Officer Hyuna and in the mall cafeteria, they are serving rice and pork belly.

Your family had moved to Korea when you were five years old. Your father was placed there. He served in the army, and he was at a really high ranking in combat until he got injured. He’s home now because of it, and he loved the Korean culture so we didn’t move. They made you go to a Korean school so you could learn the language. It was a requirement, to even try to survive, and have a normal life.

You’ve learned that when some look at you, they instantly think you don’t know Korean. So you try to play with everyone as much as possible. That has also got you in a few fights behind the walls. You were surprised when the guards spoke english. Did Jeon know you knew Korean?

( when you see “( )” that is korean. There will be english words in it, but just like imagine that person speaking Korean. Okay? Okay. )

“Can we bring it back here?” You ask frowning slightly. You’ve loved the fact that you could eat by yourself in your cell. You hated being around people who actually killed someone, or robbed or kidnapped. It didn’t help your anger any.

“No. if you want to eat then you have to eat with everyone else. Make friends Yn.” He frowns, confused to why you want to bring it back.

“Fine, then I won’t eat.” You almost wanted to cry at your own words. You haven’t have Pork Belly in forever. And they most likely have Kimchi as well. But you didn’t mind really. Most of the days locked up, the meals were disgusting. They had you Fucked up if they thought you were going to eat it. You got by with the food you could buy from the little store they have and when your mother bought food during visits that were approved, you could have it in your cell.

“What? Why won’t you eat?”

“I won’t and I don’t like eating with others. I’m supposedly somewhat free, why can’t i eat here? There’s literally a kitchen behind that door.” You cross your arms. You weren’t whining or anything, you were dead serious.

But he had a smile on his face, and he shook his head

“They told me that you skipped meals. And they made it one of my jobs to make sure you get three meals a day, everyday. So, Let’s go.” he says the last part a little more sternly. But you just scoff. Did they really? But then a thought came to mind.

“Will Officer Park And Taehyung be there?” You ask walking towards him. That caused him to frown a little bit nod. “Oh, I want to talk to them first. Then fine.”

You both walked toward the middle of the whole building, and enter a cafeteria, it almost reminded you of middle school.  You see Park and Taehyung standing at the entrance welcoming people in. More like just guarding the door.

“Jeon, Yn.” Park says nodding.

“Hi Jimin.” You say stopping in front of him. “How is Faye? And How’s Pomo?” You ask looking over to Taehyung as well. “I really wish i got one of you, instead of him.” You pout a little. Of course half joking, but before they could say anything you walk in and going to the food line. You happily got a tray and got your food and utensils.  You quickly find a seat, away from everyone else. More like a seat on the floor near the back wall.

As you ate, you watched the three of them talk and Park was laughing hitting Jeon on the arm. You were too far away to see what they were saying, but you watched at Jeon walked in. He looked toward the food line, then were the drinks were. You could tell he was frowning from where you sat. He then scanned the whole room, you realized he was probably looking for you. You continued to eat and people watch, looking over at Jeon walking around the tables looking at everyone.

You seen Pomo walk up to you and squat down.

“Jeon is looking for you.” She says smiling. “Is he as dull as Taehyung is? His voice is so emotionless and annoying” She huffs. You just smile and shake your head.

“No, I’m most likely the annoying one.” She laughs at your words and looks up.

“Good luck Hun, he’s on his way over.” She gets up and walks away.  You quickly look up and see him walking up to your holding a cold water bottle.

“Stand up YN.” He sighs, you assumed it was of relief since he has been looking for you. You sighed yourself and stand up. You through your trash away in the nearest garbage and grab the water bottle he was holding out. “There are plenty of seats you know.”

“I'm not a friendly person Jeon, know that. If you ever see me smile at someone, it's because I'm getting something out of it. I might look nice and innocent, but I'm not. Now, can I take a nap?” You ask crossing your arms. He looks at you for a second, he had a slight frown in his brows, and you give him a second to understand and say something.

“We have to stock the kitchen and your bathroom before curfew, which is 8pm. So…” He looks down at his watch on his wrist. “It's 5, ill give you a hour.” He nods and you just walk past him towards your room, and he follows behind. You went into your room and shut your door, you take off your shoes and pants then climb into your new and much more comfortable bed.

Right outside of your room, Correction Officer Jeon Jungkook sat happily writing your grocery list. He wondered why your sassy attitude made him smile. He wondered why his heart jumped when Jimin said that he had a interesting three months ahead. He was also nervous, you were dangerous, and not criminally, but physically. He was definitely attracted to you, and that scared him.

Eventually you had to get up. Jeon sent you on the path the the neighboring grocery store. They had cameras in there that connected to the building, so he could watch you. He gave you the list and the money and sent you off. You quickly got everything you supposedly needed, from packaged Kimchi, to Ramen, to veggies and fruits. You of course got some things that weren’t on the list and Jeon laughed at that, only because the extra money you spend comes out of his paycheck.

Soon it was curfew and Jeon was getting ready to leave.

“I’ll be back around 6 am, wake up is 9. Officer Park will be doing a double shift, so he's taking over your unit until I come back. Behave please, I don't want to come back and see you in a cell.” He nods and walks off. He only says that because, it might be curfew, but you don't have a bedtime or ‘lights out’.

On the wall of your room, you seen a couple sheets of paper taped the wall. You looked at it, and noticed that it was a schedule. It was set up for a month, then towards the bottom of the last page, it says it repeats two more times. Tomorrow it says that you make breakfast, welcome meeting, and recreation.

It was suddenly like a weight was lifted off. You didn't have to stay in a cell for twenty three hours a day. You got to make your breakfast instead of eating cow shit. You got ready for bed and you climb in. You cried yourself to sleep, you were so happy, you felt like you could wake up at any moment and you would be back behind the bars.

The ringing of a phone pulled you out of your dreamless sleep. You were confused for a moment, wondering where the hell you were at. But once everything came to you, you sighed and sat up. You grabbed your sweats and slipped them back on and you made sure you didn't look crazy. You remembered that Park was working the desk, and when you looked at the clock you seen that it was only two a.m.

You went to the door and opened it slowly. You peaked out and you instantly thought this was a dream.

There sat Park at the desk. The desk went up so you could only see his shoulders and up, but with the one light that was on above just to light up the desk, it made his hair look golden and his face was shadowed, you were able to see his face clearly, but you didn't care, he looked beautiful. It made you mouth water.

“Mhmm, are you going to come out YN?” His voice threw you off a bit. It was different from Jeons. Much more softer, but still just as dangerous. You froze, of course he caught you. But did he know you were checking him out? His head turns toward you, looking up from whatever he was doing.

“Is everything okay?” He asks looking a little concerned. You were too stuck at looking at him to say anything, causing his frown to deepen.

He pushes himself away from the desk and he stands up. He moves away from the desk letting you get a full view of him. You throat went dry when you see a simple crew neck t-shirt version of his uniform tucked into his pants showing off his small waist. His arms were exposed more, letting you see the veins running up his arms.

“No. I’m not okay.” You pout a little.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks. You quickly nod and walk back into your room hopping on the bed and covering your legs up since you were only in a t-shirt and underwear. He comes in and shuts the door. You turn on the bedside lamp so he could see you a little better on your bed. He walks over to you. “What’s up?”

You pat the bed wanting him to sit down. His raises one of his eyebrows but instead of saying anything, he sits.

“Now, don't take anything I say the wrong way. But as you know, i’ve been locked up since i was 15. I had my first kiss at the age of 14. What i didn’t expect is to go into prison straight as a dry noodle, then come out as a wet one. I was forced at first. But then i just accepted it and learned to love women. But the thing is, i know I love men. But i’m deprived, i’ve never had the chance to be with a guy.” You couldn't keep eye contact with him the whole time. So toward the end when you looked back at him, he was looking down at his hands and he played with his fingers.

“You and I both know that nothing between us can happen.” He mumbles. He looks up at you, but he didn't look as bright eyes and cheery as before, instead, dark and concerned.

“Are there cameras in here?” You ask looking around. Maybe you shouldn’t walk around in your underwear.

“No, this whole area are your private quarter for the next three months. There are cameras, but only in the public areas.”

“Okay, so no one will know.” You push the covers back a little.

“Of course no one will, because nothing will happen.” He frowns and stands up. You follow easily and frown a little too.

“Please, just a little kiss.” You pout a little.

“YN, what? We can't…”

“Am I ugly or something?” You cut him off. You looked down and made your pout a little more dramatic. Jimin would be lying if he said his heart was beating like crazy.

“Of course not, you're actually-” He stopped unsure of what to say. “(you're dangerously beautiful.)”

What came out of his mouth really confused you at first, until your mind worked and you understood.

“(Then kiss me)” You say, a little butchered but it was still clear enough to make his head snap towards you. His face was hard and unsure still, he looked away towards the door, then back towards you. You could tell he was hesitant. You look down at his lips and you almost drooled at the thought of kiss his lips. You wanted to feel the softness and to feel his hands grab you.

You walk in front of him and grab his arms. You pulls them around your waist and you look up to him. “(Little one.)” You lean in towards his face. You knew you had him when he didn't move away, his chest was moving faster than usual. You reached your hand up and touched under his chin a little and that seemed to do the trick.

He jumped forward and smashed his lips into yours and he hands come up higher. He kissed you. It stunned you at first, at how quick he was to capture you, but once you start to kiss back he pulls you closer kissing you deeper. You opened your eyes slightly, watching his eyes as they were squeezed shut. Your eyes clamped shut when you heard a slight moan come from him as you raked your fingers in the back of his head. Your hands then trailed down and around his neck and down his chest. You grabbed onto his shirt, before pulling away.

He tries to chase you a little, and you look at his smirking lips. You looked further down at his wrinkled shirt, you smirked as well and you wiped away his wrinkles, straightening his shirt out.

Then a sudden sharp knock came behind you. It was like Jimin was set on fire, and he pushed you away, taking like three steps back. The door opens and Jimin looks at you worried.

“So, if you just put a hot towel on your forehead, it should get rid of your headache.” Jimin nods. He then looks over to who was at the door and then you finally looked. You were surprised to see Jeon standing there with a handful of blankets.

“Oh, what are you doing here?” Park says running his fingers through his hair.

“I forgot some paperwork and I thought of bringing some of my old blankets for Yn.” He looks down at the navy blue blanket. You walk over and grab at the blanket.

“Oh shit, this is so much better then the itchy ass ones you gave me.” You take it out of his hands and set it on your bed.

“Okay, well I have to piss.” He says walking out and leaving you and Jeon alone.

“You have a headache?” Jeon asks.

“Oh, Jimin and I were talking a bit, so it feels a lot better now.” You smile, then you remembered that you were only in a tshirt and underwear. Jeon walks over to you a little, you were confused to why he walked right up to you, you froze when his hand raised up and touched your lips.

“Yea, and whatcha talk about?” He mumbles frowning a little bit.

“Oh, just how annoying you are.” You swat his hand away. He scoffs and drops his hand.

“I have done nothing wrong, I even just gave you a blanket. You have no reason to think that.” He smiles and takes a half of a step back. You rolled yours eyes.

“Exactly that, you are too soft. You are a correctional officer. I don't understand why you are here at three in the morning giving me a blanket.” You jab at his chest with your fingers.

“You don't know me.” His voice suddenly a bit deeper and you felt the room tense up.

“No, but I do know that I have this sissy ass CO, while Pomo and Faye has some sexy ass-” He raised his arm up and he pushes you down by your shoulder. You were shocked at first at his sudden aggressiveness. You had to look up at him, as he stood in front of you looking down. You felt so little and you loved you. His facial expression was hard, and you could tell he was clenching his jaw. Your eyes trailed down, you see that he was wearing a big navy blue tshirt and some black sweats. You were lined up directly to his waist, and you couldn't help but to bit your bottom lip. You sneaked a look back up to him, and his eyes were lower, and darker, which made your body tingle.

Before you could do anything, he moves away from you and grabs your blanket, he starts to spread it out. You watch as his arms moves so easily as he lays the blanket on half of your bed like it was nothing. You look up at his face. His jawline catches your eyes first. You could tell he was still clenching his jaw, making it seem a bit sharper. His lips were just there, sitting on his face so pretty and pink. You became a little frustrated when you think about how much you wanted to touch him, you knew he wasn't going to be as easy at Park was. Or was he?

“Goodnight. Keep those lips to yourself.” He then turns around a leaves.

_________________________

If you have enjoyed what you read, make sure to show some love. Xx

[aj-artjunkyard]

Trials Of Apollo Oneshot Series CHAPTER SIX

Takes place after the burning maze. Spoilers!

Meg propped her red high-tops up on the wooden table, engorging herself in a greasy chicken wing. I myself reclined on the sofa next to her, chewing on the best tasting fish I’d come across in a long time. The aurae brought whatever food the demigod, legacy or ex-god would like best. In my case, it was a typical ancient greek dinner - grilled fish with a small side dish of olives and olive oil. It reminded me of the old days, the heavenly smell wafting from my mother’s kitchen (minus the olives of course, as they had not yet been invented) while young Artemis and I played with nymphs, climbed trees and held archery competitions. Granted, my mother usually added a garnish of ground ambrosia, but that was slightly too impossible for me in my current state. Still, the thought brought tears to my eyes. I missed my sister and mother, more than words could describe. I managed to blink back the moisture welling up, but I was still glad we dined alone.

Our table looked pathetically desolate compared to the tables around us, which held fifteen demigods each. No one really wanted to talk to those who had pulled their respected leader into a quest which had gotten him killed. So, with our backs to the crowd, we ate in thoughtful silence (at least on my part) until Meg stirred me from my nostalgic reverie.

“You think Ella will finish the book thing in time?” Meg asked, pulling a chicken bone from her mouth and flicking it across the table.

“The Sibylline Books.” I corrected.

“Same difference.” 

“That’s my line.”

“Will they be ready or not?”

I sighed with exasperation at the impatience of my master. 

“I do not know.”

Meg rolled her eyes. 

“You never know anything.”

“Hey! I know as much as my father has left intact in my memories, and that is not my fault.”

Meg ignored my defence, and leaned over to my plate to prod my fish in the eye. 

“That’s gross,” she said, screwing up her face.

“Yes,” I agreed. “It is in fact disgusting to poke someone else’s food when they know you haven’t washed your hands.”

“Not that, dummy.” She pointed at my forkful of fish, which was halfway to my mouth. “That.”

I rolled my eyes and took another bite. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s hardly cooked.”

“It’s grilled.” 

Meg stuffed her face with another few bites. Her mouth was so full I was surprised she could still breathe. “Aren’t you supposed to put batter on it or something?” She asked, spraying my face with spit and bits of chicken. I grudgingly wiped it off. 

“Is there anything you Americans don’t deep fry?” 

In response, Meg lifted her feet off the low table, swivelled around and dropped them heavily onto my legs. She was now lying the length of the sofa while half-draped over me, pinning me to the soft cushioning. “Ow.”

She snorted at my discomfort, then continued to inhale her meat. 

My mind wandered around the possibilities of ever seeing my family again. My uncle Poseidon, who had always been my favourite uncle (although my only other uncles are either titans or Hades, so I guess that doesn’t come across as much of a compliment, but it is). My good friends, Hermes and Dionysus, who were always up for a good prank on Ares or ready with a bottle of wine after an awful day (but remember, alcohol is bad, kids. We only drink it because we are each over 3000 years old. Do not attempt until you are the same age, no matter what Dionysus tells you). My sister, the sharp huntress whom I would defend to the death. My mother. Sacred Sibyl, I missed my mother. I missed her warm hugs, her sweet honeysuckle scent, her soft, caring voice. I couldn’t stand the thought of never feeling her comforting presence again. I had to get home.

…

I woke, drenched in cold sweat and gasping for breath. ‘Blasted nightmares,’ I thought, desperately trying to rip the sheets off myself with shaking hands. My legs were still partially entangled when I attempted to stand, resulting in me thumping loudly to the floor. I grasped around in the dark for the small bedside table to help me stand. When I found the edge, I began to pull myself up, but the table tipped, sending me back to the hard floor and spilling its contents onto my head. The digital clock that clattered beside me read 01:38. I growled at it and stood, despite my quaking limbs. My nightmares had wildly unsettled me in ways I wouldn’t tolerate. ‘You’ll never hang onto those memories’, they taunted. ‘Give it a week and you won’t even remember their names’. 

“Shut up, shut up!” I hissed to myself. I began wondering, stumbling towards to bookshelf at the end of the long room. ‘What kind of brother forgets a sibling?’ “Stop.” ‘What kind of son?’ “Stop it!”

I began to yank old, dusty, leather bound books from the shelf, looking for anything with my name on the front. I needed to remember me. Anything. Anything at all. Finally, a large black book with the emboldened golden letters ‘APOLLŌ’ printed on the spine caught my attention. It was a few inches thick and the cover was almost as wide as my chest. Eyes widening, I harshly ripped the book out from its place, the sudden weight bearing down on my weak arms almost causing me to drop it. I did not wish to make any more noise than I already had. I wrapped it in my gangly human arms and lugged it out the door. 

I cannot say I knew where I was headed. I simply needed to get somewhere, to feel the crisp night wind sting my skin into feeling anything but numbness. I found myself marching up a hill. The extra muscle exertion distracted me from my troubles, so I kept climbing. A good way up the hill, I started to feel the pull of the familiar. Temple Hill. I scanned the assorted statues and . There was no particular order, other than ‘most important at the top’. Further on, a massive red crypt loomed, decorated with flames and human skulls. The name Mars Ultor came to me, but I overlooked it. My mind was so busy with rushing thoughts and doubts that I feared any more information might make my brain explode.

My fingers fidgeted with the tears and rough leather texture of the book in my grasp. I felt as if a band composed of nothing but timpani were performing a drumroll in my mind, getting more and more intense with each passing second. Unable to stand still for much longer, I bolted to my right, keeping my head down and following whatever path was under my feet. 

Maybe the last scraps of my godly essence guided me to the place it felt most at home. My mind was caught in such a flurry of panic that I barely noticed I was climbing marble steps until the steely cold shocked my unprotected soles. I was in an circular, open room held up by bronze pillars that were rimmed with gold. A golden dome sat over my head, and an array of my favourite items littered the right side of the room - a golden bow, a quiver stocked with arrows, an elegant grand piano. In the middle of the temple, an altar sat, waiting for sacrifices. I padded to the back of the room, my bare feet echoing on the smooth marble. Sliding my back down a pillar, I sat and heaved the book open. I was too flustered  to have possibly read a word, but the pictures soothed me. There were a few century-old ink sketches of the 'Apollo Belvedere’ in Rome, next to a modern Polaroid marked ‘Latona and Her Children, Apollo and Diana, carved 1874’ I smiled at the tranquil scene. Mother rarely appeared as such now, certainly not after the invention of many modern braid styles (she got me to teach her how to use Instagram so she can ‘see the videos all those pretty young ladies post’ and learn new hairstyles. She’s admittedly very talented. We tied on our self-held Let’s See Who Can Braid Their Hair The Fastest completion). A tear dripped onto the picture. I turned the page.

This one showed the ‘Diana as Huntress’  statue in Berlin. Artie always huffed about her statues, said they were ‘Too dramatic’. She questioned why she, a seasoned hunter, would ever stand around and wait around for the wind to blow the right direction just so she could look cool to the monsters charging at her and her girls. She can say what she likes, but I know that she prefers it when sculptors include her dogs. Just a thought for any artists out there, looking to gain Diana’s favour *wink*. I grinned at the thought of her thirteen year old form pouting up at me. The memory was fuzzy, but still clearer than usual. I turned the page again.

Again and again I flicked through photos of my relatives, skimming over the paragraphs just enough that it reminded me of their names and their relationships with me. Hermes/Mercury was my impish best friend, who I’d vowed to love for eternity. Hera/Juno was my stepmother who caused my mother and siblings nothing but pain, but somehow we respected each other enough to eat cabbage together and compliment each other’s hair. Dionysus/Bacchus was the ultimate party-man, often inviting me to play for his revelries. 

I turned the page once more. This time, I was met with an image that spanned the length of the two pages. At the top of the page, black threatening letters spelled out ‘JUPITER, FATHER OF APOLLO’ and in smaller writing ‘St Petersburg, Hermitage Museum’. Even from glancing into those blank, marble eyes, my anger spiked. ‘There he is’, I thought, ‘sitting all smug on his little stupid throne-’ I admit, my thoughts turned to bitter toddler-like insults. But looking at the god responsible for my misery made me want to throw the book across the temple and storm away. So I did just that. The book smacked into the alter (which tipped) and thumped open onto the floor cover side up, the crusty pages wrinkling under the force. I left the hook where the golden bow had hung empty as I went.

…

Twang!

The arrow just inside the red circle of the target, and I mentally awarded myself seven points. Not that it mattered. Judging by the moon’s position in the inky sky, it was now 3am - I had been at Camp Jupiter’s open-air archery range for almost two hours. No one else had been here when I arrived, and I was glad it had stayed that way. I needed time alone. To stew. I had first come out with the intention to ‘practice’ (still an alien concept to ex-flawless archers such as myself), but now, this long into the session, I was only blowing off steam. Channeling my frustration into every loose of an arrow, imagining the target as everyone who had wronged me over the course of this forsaken punishment. My knuckles tightened. My eyes narrowed. My shoulders tensed. 

Twang! An arrow buried itself deep in the flesh of Commodus’ shoulder.

Twang! A wooden shaft protruded from Caligula’s throat.

Twang! Blood seeped through the mauve suit surrounding Nero’s manipulating, insensitive heart.

Twang! Zeus howled in pain at the arrow embedded in his sternum.

Twang! Python writhed in agony, agony he deserved-

“Apollo!”

I yelped and my shot went wildly off course, flying high with no power or distance, and landing in the grass in front of the target with a thud. Whipping around, I was about to tell whoever it was to GO AWAY when I was met with an equally startled young man, dressed in pyjama bottoms and the signature purple Camp Jupiter t-shirt, with the gold letters SPQR emblazoned boldly on the front. He quickly raised his hands in a placid manner, showing that he meant no harm. Nevertheless, I remained on guard. There had been a few who had not exactly welcomed the bearers of Jason’s coffin warmly, and this had been a close friend of the son of Jupiter. I feared I could not take this particular demigod in a fight. Even though he looked to be not much older than myself, he towered above me - perhaps a few inches beyond six foot tall, which made my lanky 5”6 feel minuscule. He had handsome asian features and soft brown eyes that I wagered could shift from kindness to anger in moments. He wore jet black hair in a military cut, making him seem like the world’s youngest army general.

“Frank Zhang.” I nodded to him once before turning back to my anger outlet. I was in no mood to talk. Not after loosing any way to contact my family. Not after loosing my memories to oblivion. Not after loosing Jason. Not when I knew he could react violently, as some already had. And if his heritage and blessing from Mars went against my mortal pathetic self, I doubted I would last more than ten seconds. Thankfully, he did not look like he came to pick a fight. He came forward and stood beside me silently, watching as I drew back the bowstring. I felt his eyes bore into me, assessing my posture, my strength, my balance. It was off-putting. That, dear readers, is why my arrow went rogue. It wasn’t my fault. It thunked into the wooden leg that held up the target. I felt my cheeks redden. I glared at the stupid arrow, willing it to pick itself up and hover over to the bullseye. Unsurprisingly, this did not happen. It stubbornly stayed where it was, planted in the wood. 

I really hated having an audience for my failures, especially if the audience was a child who had once hoped and prayed for me, the Great Golden Archer, to be his father. I doubted Frank felt such a longing anymore. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was smiling sympathetically at me, having witnessed my disgraceful excuse for a shot for the first time. I decided that Gaia coming back and swallowing me whole at that exact moment would not have been protested against.

“Here,” Frank said calmly, reaching towards me and adjusting my grip on the bowstring. “You’re gripping the string too far up your fingers. You don’t want to make a fist around it.” He peered down at my feet. “And you’re too tense. Relax your stance a little.” I obliged, already seeing my stupid mistakes. My cheeks seemed to heat up even more, and I found myself resisting the urge to bury my acne-ridden face in my hoodie. Frank seemed to notice, and backed off, instead ambling over to a small supply shed where he scooped up a bow and a fistful of arrows. I kept myself occupied from the daunting future that would have Frank humiliating me by nocking another arrow. This time, I tried to take on board what advice I’d been given.

I angled my left foot closer to the direction of the target, so I took on a more open stance, then checked my fingering was correct. Taking a deep breath, I used my back muscles to push my shoulder blades together as to take the strain off my arm and shoulder muscles - an unforgotten golden rule of archery. I drew back the bowstring until I reached my anchor point (the index finger touching the corner of my mouth), and fired. Twang! Not a bullseye, but well within the first yellow circle. I grinned in delight. Success was a rare feeling nowadays.

“Good job.” He congratulated quietly, grinning and turning to his own target. We both drew our bows.

After about ten more shots, and four bullseyes on my part (how many frank got is not relevant, moving on), Frank suggested we go back inside.

“It’s early,” he said, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn. He started walking down towards the fifth cohort’s barracks, so I followed. “We should get back. Jason’s funeral is later, and you’ve barely been to sleep.”

“How did you know?”

Frank scratched the back of his neck and smiled awkwardly.

“Well, you made a bit of a racket when you were leaving the barracks. What with the whole…falling and throwing books and stuff…”

Yup. The ground was more than welcome to swallow me now. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I felt my acne-riddled face turn tomato coloured for the umpteenth time that morning, and glared at the grass.

“Apologies.” I muttered. “I panicked.”

“Yeah, you seemed upset so I told the others to leave you alone. I thought maybe you wanted some peace and quiet. But you were gone for ages, so I came to find you.”

I shot him a questioning look. ‘Why?’ He read my mind. 

“It’s my job as Praetor to make sure everyone’s safe,” he explained, his chest puffing out slightly at the little self-reminder of his recently increased status. “And, it sucks. To loose people, I mean.”

I looked up at the Roman. His eyes were shimmering with tears, but he looked me in the eye anyway. He wasn’t afraid to show emotion, which was a rare trait, especially in the legion, but one I had always admired. 

“I only knew him for a few hours. Why do I feel so awful?”

“Because Jason was a great demigod. The greatest. He made an impact on everyone he talked to.” -Frank gestured around the camp- “He really made an impact here. Especially with the loser fifth cohort.”

“He-he told me to fulfil his promise. To build temples for every god in the pantheon.”

“Yeah. He could be like that. Noble, even at the worst of times. But that’s not the reason you’ve been drilling holes into the archery equipment for an a few hours straight.”

I answered with all the intelligence of someone who hadn’t slept since 1am. 

“Huh?”

“I didn’t think to check here first,” he said. “I went up to your temple.”

I got flashbacks to my toddler-esque temper tantrum.

“Ooh. Yeah…”

“Yeah.” He responded in a tone that said ‘been there, done that, got the t-shirt’. “Families are messy.” 

“I miss them.”

“That’s normal. Bitterness is normal. You aren’t being overdramatic.” 

I smiled at the confirmation. 

“Thanks. It means a lot.”

We were back at the barracks. Frank smiled at me one last time and patted me on the back, before lumbering in. I followed. 

I slept soundly the rest of the night.

…

I walked, lead-legged, up Temple Hill. The whole camp was eerily quiet. Jason’s body had been given proper honours, and the legion had been given the day off from duties. I couldn’t stand the prying eyes of 200 kids for much longer, so, even while I had only gotten four hours of sleep and was weighed down with grief, I travelled to the only place in the camp that was truly ‘mine’. 

Tired and weary, I plopped down on the seat of the sleek, white grand piano. I ran my fingers across the smooth fallboard for a solid minute of distracted silence, before lifting it to reveal the ivory keys. They were chipped and yellowed and seemingly out of place compared to the stark white of the piano itself, were inevitably out of tune. I played a short scale, opened up the lid and tightened the loose turning pins I had hit, then continued with my scales. I repeated until I was positive that every key was in perfect harmony, which took all of ten minutes.

Satisfied with the tuning, I took a deep breath and splayed my fingers out on the keyboard, and played a tune that inspired grace and felt to me like a ballerina daintily dancing on water. After a second, the fingering flowed into my memory, allowing my hands to glide elegantly across the piano while I stared over the rim and through the gaps between the temple’s pillars, and into the distance. The sky was clear and perfect blue, and the warm breeze swept gently through my hair. I remembered sitting with my mother on Delos, our shoulders touching as together, we played two parts of the same harmony. Like two streams running down a mountain, weaving around each other and sometimes intersecting to make one stronger melody. My heartbeat calmed from the stress of what was now everyday life to me. Peril, danger and death.

A jarring dissonance of notes jolted me back to unwelcome reality. I rolled my eyes glared at the pudgy young demigod beside me.

“You know, there are ways to make your presence known without scaring flocks of birds away.”

“Yeah I know,” Meg replied shrugging. “But it’s not as fun as watching you jump ten feet in the air.”

“I wasn’t scared! I knew you were beside me!”

“Uh huh,” she grunted, turning her attention to the keys and banging a few more notes without mercy.

“I just tuned those, you monster.”

Meg smirked. Then she ordered me to shift over on the bench, and practically bounced down in the middle, leaving me with one leg hanging off the side.

“Teach me that one. The one you were playing.”

I was too taken aback to argue it’s difficulty, especially for a beginner. I thought we had long since given up on the piano lessons (Meg was not very good), and even if we hadn’t, this tune was graceful and elegant - not words commonly used to describe Meg McCaffrey. But I admit, I missed playing with someone. And so we began.

“Why don’t you watch me first, try to absorb as much of the tune as possible before I teach you the left hand.”

Meg tried to hide her smile.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Bit of a shorter chapter this time. Sorry for the long wait, I started writing out several completely different chapters and never finished them because they just weren’t good enough. Also, the point about ‘No romance’ in these chapters still stand. Frank and Apollo were written as a kid and an adult becoming good friends, NOT BOYFRIENDS. 

[letterstolegion]

May I get a scenario for Dwight with a charismatic and friendly female s/o who’s an ex con-artist??

let’s see what we can do~!

DWIGHT FAIRFIELD + EX CON-ARTIST S/O

To get to lay back and relax by the campfire in the Entity’s Realm was as good a luxury as any for a survivor such as yourself. Trials would come and go like clockwork, so it was nice to have the benevolent being that controlled this place allow you a little time off. Not to mention, if you were too spent on energy to partake in a trial, it made the matches unfair on one end. Apparently the Entity was evil enough to force you into death over and over, but not evil enough to make the matches one-sided.

Only when you heard shuffling behind you did you snap from your daze, noticing the familiar, anxious stance of one nervous leader standing behind you. The look on his face said he wanted to talk with you, but once you had caught him striding up to you, worry hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t until your started chuckling that he lost some of his concern and continued on his way towards you, one hand fiddling with his tie.

“Hey,” you greeted, patting the spot on the ground beside you as a signal for him to sit down. He took it, and made himself comfortable quickly. “Someone got out of a trial quickly.”

“A-Actually, I got out of my trial a while ago. I was just fixing up all my stuff back in my tent,” he clarified, watching as you nodded and brought your stare back to the fire. He pushed up his glasses as they slipped down his nose before speaking up once again. “What’re you doing out of trials..?”

With a shrug, you replied lightly. “Beats me. Entity said, ‘Trial machine broken,’ for me and I just said, ‘Understandable, have a nice day.’”

Your little joke got a laugh out of Dwight as he began to break out of his shell, becoming more conscious of the thoughts going through his head. Though it didn’t really help that he had to be so close to you; the proximity was beginning to make his heart race faster than it should. He tried to keep his mind off it as best he could, though, and instead returned his focus to his tie, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Quiet moved to sit beside the two of you as you remained in comfortable silence, your eyes focused on the everlasting flames that splintered into embers of the campfire. Meanwhile, Dwight kept to himself and smiled, noticing how you made him feel safe despite how anxious he would’ve normally gotten. It gave him time to think of something he could say to drum up conversation, without having to worry about needing to impress you or anything like that. Though, after a brief moment, he found himself a topic to bring to the table.

“So, what was your past like? Y’know, before you got here?”

Amusement played on your lips as you moved your arms to rest behind your head, sprawling your legs out against the grass to stretch. 

“I was a con-artist,” you replied, turning to look as his eyes went wide for a moment. “Don’t worry, I never hurt anyone. Just tricked people into things.”

Curiosity running through his head, Dwight leaned over and asked, “How would you do it?”

From there, you moved to stand, going off to your tent before coming back with what appeared to be a normal sport flashlight. He could tell from the dust along the side of it’s handle that it had yet to be used, though when you held it out towards him, he wasn’t sure what there was to notice about it. Then, you went on to explain.

“You see this? It’s just a normal flashlight, right?”

Giving it a little shake, the glasses-clad male beside you nodded. “Yeah..? I don’t see what’s so different about it.”

A smirk played upon your lips as you moved to undo the back of the flashlight, revealing it only had one battery in it, a long-life one, if Dwight could tell correctly. He tilted his head and paid very close attention to how you held the battery between your fingers.

“Now, this? Long-Life battery, which adds six seconds of use to a normal flashlight like this.” You held the flashlight in your other hand before putting the battery back, then moved to unscrew the top and show the male beside you the inside. “But, what I’ve got in here is a low amp filament, which reduces battery consumption on this here flashlight. And, with that filament, you get more use out of your flashlight rather than combining two batteries. Instead of just ten seconds—when used correctly—this bad boy can last up to fifteen.”

Glancing up, you noticed the shock reflected in his brown eyes as you put the item away to the side and continued.

“I conned that off Ash in exchange for a flashlight with two batteries, and he was none the wiser~”

Surprised laughter left Dwight as he was able to put two and two together, followed by gentle applause. Giving a mock-bow, you smiled back at him as he took to note the information you told him, running a hand through his slicked black hair. You really where more incredible than he had considered before, and it made him want to impress you that much more.

“The thing is,” your voice caught him out of his trance as he looked at you, noticing how much closer you had gotten while he was lost in his thoughts. “I just conned you as well.”

“Wh-What?”

A mischievous gleam shimmered in your eyes as you placed a hand against his cheek, watching as his face went red. “That information is really valuable in a place like this. I can’t just be giving it away for free. So in exchange for what I told you, I’m going to trade for something better.”

Before Dwight could question your methods of business, he was cut off by the gentle touch of your lips pressed sweetly against his own. The male went completely still as you worked your magic on him, only to leave him breathless after you had your fun. It wasn’t until a while later that he had noticed you left the flashlight with him, a Cinderella-like invitation to come visit him again for a little more love and affection.

[cupofsorrows]

Howard Lovecraft 5: Yes, This Is The Last One

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Alright chums, let’s do this, home stretch!

- Alright everybody, welcome back to Eldritch Wipeout!

- We’ve had a pretty uneventful day so far, but that might turn around with our next contestant! Standing three feet tall and hailing from Rhode Island, let’s give it up for Howard “Hard R” Lovecraft! *air horns*

- He’s gonna need to keep a level head for this, Tim.

- That’s for sure, Jack. Always keep your wits about you!

- That is, if you haven’t already lost your mind from revelations no man should bear!

- Looks like he’s already running into some trouble with the first trial- And they’re past it already!

- But let’s see how well they do in the second trial!

- We pulled out all the stops on this one...

...and by “all the stops”, I mean ‘ripped the hell off of Indiana Jones’!

Don’t forget Howard...in the Aklo alphabet, ‘Jehovah’ begins with an ‘I’!

- Pretty straightforward, Bob, just gotta find the right tiles to step on --

- Ooh! Do you think he realizes that the words “my father” in that inscription DON’T refer to his father?

- I’m sure he does, John. If the inscription had meant that, it would have said “your father”!

- Appears he does NOT understand this, Rick.

- You know kids these days, Bill, they just don’t got the grammar too good.

- Wait, looks like he’s got another idea...could it be?

- I think it is!

- Looks like he’s spelling out ‘Azathoth’ which IS the correct answer!

- Terrible animation as always, of course.

- No argument there, Dick.

- Just the worst.

- Anyway, it’s on to the third and final trial! This one’s gonna require a lot of creative thinking...

- Looks like he’s planning on reflecting the light from his glowy blue friend, definitely an unconventional solution!

- I’m not sure that’s how physics works, Fred...

- Well, it’s working, Don!

- Well, fuck me in the ass with a Honda, Paul, so it is!

- Just goes to show you can’t trust physics in a place like this.

- No you can’t, Ron.

- I think our boy Howard might just be home free - OH! LOOK at that! A mob of Deep Ones!

- Copy-pasted, by the looks of it!

- Earl, this might be a pickle they’re in now.

waaait a minute...Deep Ones don’t blink!

- Actually, Mark, it seems like they’re cool! They’re just letting him walk out of there.

- Come to think of it, Ted, I think those might just be some set technicians. They’ve been waiting to start disassembling the course, I think.

- Well then, that’s our cue! We have a winner, ladies gents and assorted entities! Thanks for tuning in!

whew, doing those voices was murder on my throat. Now back to the hostage situation:

Nothing much to say here, badguy seemingly wins, activates the ritual, yadda yadda.

oola ooh couchez avec moi, c’est soi?

You can’t really tell from the screencap, but at the crucial moment the book stops working because...

...yeah. I’m not sure ‘deus ex machina’ is the right term for a situation involving actual elder gods, but it sure is a convenient development that in no way hinged on the protagonist’s actions, isn’t it? (also wow. They...just did not bother to give that book any texture here, did they?) Anyhoo, the evil plan fails, miserably,

(I think this was Pepsi’s slogan back in the ‘90s.)

Abdul has finally Outlived His Usefulness™, although he manages a few more lines after being set on fire so I wonder whether that dorky outfit was actually flame retardant.

And there’s Dagon, just standing there awkwardly because this is his place and he actually has people coming over tomorrow so if you all would please hurry up?

The goodguys actually left before Nyarlahotep had even begun soliloquizing back there, and now they’re back safe and sound (except for Ma Lovecraft who is still dying).

Oh, look who it is! Yeah, they’re safe, no thanks to you. Hope you had a nice cup of tea while everyone else was almost dying.

He binds the three journals together into The Necronomicon, which is the only thing that can save Howard’s mother (apparently that requires a higher level of magic than awakening freaking Cthulhu).

Speaking of Mark Hamill, that new Dark Crystal show has been pretty good so far (he’s one of the skeksis in that). Anyways sorry I called you useless, Doc.

lol that bitch is FADED!

*ding* Turkey’s done!

Howard reads from the book to save her. BUT WILL HE BE IN TIME?

My God, she looks like she’s made of vinyl! SHE’S BACK TO NORMAL, EVERYBODY!

There it is, the ONE GOOD BIT in this whole sordid affair. And I’ve capped and posted it, so now you can safely not watch the movie without missing anything.

So Spot (...is he Cthulhu for real now? I don’t think so but...) Must Go Back To His Home Planet Now, His People Need Him. By the way, I am increasingly sure that this is supposed to be R’lyeh:

(sorry, Ruh-LAY)

So the baddies didn’t kill these guys. Ah, too bad, I guess.

Howard shares some meaningful last words with Armitage:

- And they return (via portal) to their home. Yes, their quiet, peaceful home, with its cozy beds and its tranquil garden and their little cat, Ni-

...why, who could THAT be?

I will say this about the animation: it stayed shitty right up to the end.

...

So...not Nick Fury, then.

Right now, I feel, the joke is very specifically on me.

Roll credits, including this bit here about how this was actually adapted from a graphic novel:

Notice that director/producer/voice of Spot/father or husband of half the cast Sean O’Reilly is there, but notice how many other people there are who seem to have had little or nothing to do with this movie. Wonder what that’s about?

If it’s one of those guys that did this credit art - orders of magnitude better than the animation for most of the actual film - it’s nothing short of a travesty that not only were they not involved with the main project but also that we get to see their stuff now just to taunt us with what might have been.

I mean, LOOK at all that! Damn!

“Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental”, says the movie with the child version of a famous horror author as the main character. SURE, WHY NOT.

WELP THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE - well, all she wrote, maybe, but I still have a bit more to add. So yeah, this was on the whole pretty dismal. Not quite as bad as it could have been, I’ll grant, but it missed most of its major cues. I DID like some things - Doug Bradley played a decent Nyarlahotep, the stuff with Azathoth was neat, and Winfield Lovecraft’s character was actually kind of engaging - even funny - at times. AT TIMES. And I will say that, perversely, Abdul Alhazred’s lackluster character design actually kind of stood out - I don’t think you’ll find very many other depictions of him where he’s Just Some Guy (who happens to be a powerful sorcerer). If nothing else, they pretty diligently avoided racializing him (not even a turban!) - yeah, it’s still true that the one evil human is also the only one with any nonwhite identifiers whatsoever (really just the name, in this case) but considering the source material if that’s the most problematic it gets then we got off SUPER easy.

Bad news is, basically everything else about this blows. The animation only hurts if you have eyes, but even the blind can hold O’Reilly accountable for the decision to cast all his kids. Then there’s the fact that the movie tries to bait us with big names, even though two of the top-billed stars (Plummer and Perlman) have probably less than a minute’s worth of lines between them (and ‘lines’ is a bit charitable in Perlman’s case [no disrespect to Ron, you’ll always be my Hellboy]). Seriously, did you even remember Dr. West until I brought him up just now? Wait, no, don’t actually try to recallAAUGH

AAAAAAAHH!

And now the Nyquil’s kickin’ in so I’m gonna have to bow out - but fortunately I’ve said pretty much everything I could think of to say anyway. Perhaps one day, when the stars are right, I might recap the other movies, including Howard’s Mother Eats A Whole Chicken. The future is full of mysteries!

...OK, bye.