#judging from the credits and summary placed at the beginning of it (spoken in very fast esperanto)-

[mios-axe]

i love setting goals for myself im so good at reaching goals

[asphyxiateher]

Only Monsters Come Out At Night

Chapter Four: The Ties that Bind

Summary: Desdemona receives a warning from Lady Dimitrescu before she sets off to spend time with Cassandra. Veronica is alive but just barely. 

A/N: This chapter is longer than anticipated, I tried to be descriptive without being too wordy but alas, I hope you enjoy anyway. 

Desdemona Hawthorne wishes she could convince herself that she does not believe in luck because it’s a flimsy excuse that most people fall back on to justify the unfavorable circumstances they may find themselves in. Growing up in the suburbs, she had heard all kinds of non-sense about how putting enough positive thoughts and energy out in the universe would grant you the gift of receiving everything you have ever wanted in return. Desdemona isn’t quite sure how to describe her current predicament, but she is certain that even vomiting rainbows and shitting out sunshine would not be enough to get her out of Castle Dimitrescu. No, this is the rotten luck she’s grown accustomed to having follow her around and it had tainted this vacation from the beginning. She just wanted to see the castle that inspired Dracula and learn about its history so she could say she went out there to pursue a seemingly impossible dream and made it come true.

Desdemona did not come out here to be imprisoned by three monstrous vampires who either wanted to kill her or fuck her, she couldn’t tell which they wanted to do more of at this point, so this whole unnerving, unpleasant experience warranted a refund. She had been expecting a tour guide and a group of fellow tourists when her group made it up here but instead, here she was stuck in a foul-smelling, subterranean cellar that was currently occupied by her and the three vampiric sisters she mentioned earlier. The eldest sister, Bela, stood in front of Desdemona protectively as she attempted to swat away at her sisters that were now slowly approaching them with raised sickles. “She’s mine, you delusional twit! She gave me something that was clearly important to her, that means she has declared herself to me!” Bela hollered, hissing when Daniela swung her sickle at her. “Bela, you selfish brat, you’re always sucking up to Mother and trying to be better than us at everything, but she told you to share! I am sick and tired of being given the leftovers; sometimes I want the first bite, you know!” Cassandra whines, transforming into a massive ball of insects only to instantly appear by Desdemona’s side.   “Cassandra, you know how it is with Bela; we do all the work, and she takes all the credit! Let us humble our dear sister and take what is rightfully ours.” Daniela snarls, a dangerous glint in her eyes as she flicks her gaze over to Desdemona. She licks her lips and moans when she takes in her prey’s scent, her fear sweetening her blood.

Desdemona was at a loss for words the moment Daniela expressed her clear distaste for her sister’s arrogance. It was not only what came out of her mouth that perplexed the human, but it was in the manner of how she complained to Cassandra about Bela. The whole unsettling conversation between the siblings made Desdemona feel like they were ready to tear her apart so they could divide her evenly between the three of them. In hindsight, she probably should not have given any of the sisters a gift if this was going to be the reaction, but had they all been here the other day, maybe she could have given them all a little something to remember her by at the same time. However, this little opportunity could prove to be beneficial should the women begin tearing and clawing at each other rather than her. Maybe this is where they shred each other apart and Desdemona might have a fighting chance at making it out of here after all. She needed to find out where this was going fast and if she was going to need to take cover.

“Daughters, what is the meaning of this? I have bestowed each of you a gift that the three of you were supposed to share and take responsibility for only to have you throw back the kindness I’ve shown you back in my face!” Alcina’s booming voice in dungeon startled everyone in the room. The chamber door clicked open, exposing the rather imposing figure that belonged to Lady Dimitrescu. She scanned the room and glared at her three cowering daughters, carelessly throwing in another body into the room that she had been hauling behind her. Desdemona’s eyes widened in surprise when she recognized Veronica’s limp body curled on the ground.

“You know you’re supposed to take care of your pets and not let them rot in the cellar! Have I not taught you girls any manners or did I overestimate your ability to take care of this human you are all so fond of? Ugh, no matter, I have another task for you girls. You are to assist Karl with a project; he found an abandoned van not too far from the village and was able to tow it back to the castle. We found some of Desdemona’s belongings that I’m sure you all would be interested in.” Alcina said sweetly, smirking when her daughters expressed their delight at embarking on such a quest. Desdemona carefully approached Veronica’s resting form and knelt on the ground beside her, gently lifting her head and placing it on her lap. She gasped aloud when she saw how bruised and broken Veronica appeared, her hair disheveled as her skin was marred with darkened bruises and scars that indicated severe physical trauma. Veronica shifted in place and lifted a shaky hand in the air, her breathing slow and calm when she feels Desdemona’s fingers clasp together with hers.

 “What…what happened to you, V? You look like shit.” Desdemona teases, hoping to brighten her best friend’s mood somehow. Veronica smiles at Dezzy’s playful tone and lightly squeezes her hand. Veronica suddenly grimaces and turns her head to her side, her tongue rolling around against her cheek before she spits something out.

‘Wait, did she just spit out a tooth? What did Lady Dimitrescu do to you, Veronica?’ Desdemona sadly thinks to herself as she pulls Veronica closer until she’s settled comfortably on her lap.

“You know me, Dezzy, I don’t know when to shut the fuck up. She wants to break me and I want to irritate her until my very last breath; this relationship is in absolutely no way toxic.” Veronica says, coughing out blood when she tries to laugh through the pain.

“Mother, that loud-mouth with the gross blood is touching our plaything. May we slit her throat and hang her upside down until she bleeds out?” Cassandra asks with a sneer. Daniela is scowling at Veronica and she looks ready to pounce but she somehow manages to refrain from doing so after looking to her mother for any signs of approval. Thankfully, Alcina manages to look annoyed with the request more than anything.

“No, no, you girls will not touch what belongs to me. She was starting to bore me so throwing her in here for a day will allow me to recharge. I will, however, remind you that your new task needs to be done immediately so I suggest you find your dear Uncle Karl and help him with whatever he needs. I will tend to your pet and give her a bath. She and I need to have an important talk regarding your needs.” Alcina states as she glances over to Desdemona cradling her best friend in her arms.

“Mother, if Desdemona needs a bath, I would be more than happy to assist you in all matters that concern my beloved.” Bela offers, beaming when she gazes into Desdemona’s eyes.

The crestfallen expression on Bela’s face after Alcina politely rejects her offer has the other two sisters snickering in the back. Disheartened at the idea of Desdemona being handled in the bath by her mother, Bela disintegrates into a million insects and leaves the space. Her two sisters soon follow when their mother shoots them a knowing look.

Alcina’s attention now falls on Desdemona and the surviving Hawthorne twin feels her heart begin to race. She doesn’t quite know how to act around Lady Dimitrescu and judging by how broken Veronica looked, Desdemona figures she must continue to act submissive and demonstrate manners when she’s spoken to. Until she can come up with a formidable plan to escape the castle with her best friend in tow, Desdemona must continue to get to know Lady Dimitrescu and her three daughters better. She’ll eventually figure out what their weaknesses are by playing the long game.

“I guess I better get going, V. Please feel better soon and you know, try not to die.” Desdemona says as she places a gentle kiss on her friend’s forehead.

 Veronica scoffs and bats away at her in response.

“I can’t make any promises I can’t keep. You just do you until you know, find something worth finding out about and tell me all about it. Oh, and Dezzy,” Veronica says quietly as she watches her best friend cautiously approach Lady Dimitrescu, who had been observing their interaction with curiosity. “let it be known that you have the worst fucking luck in the world with women. Take care of yourself, yeah?”

Desdemona sighs at that and offers her friend a knowing smile. She’d spent most of her life being attracted to heterosexual women or women who were emotionally unavailable to her; she didn’t think she’d ever cross the line of the usual types she’s typically drawn to but here she was fighting for survival as a trio of dangerous vampires decided to lay their claim on her.

Des dares to look up at Alcina, who unfortunately had already been staring at her, and she gulps, picking up the pace to keep up with Lady Dimitrescu’s rather large strides. For the most part, Alcina does not engage in much conversation unless she felt the need to point something out about the mansion.

When they enter one of the guest bathrooms, Desdemona can’t help but be a little impressed at Lady Dimitrescu’s design choices. The exquisitely polished gold marble flooring stood out the most as two sinks lined up on both sides of the room, the cherry wood cabinets complimenting both the granite countertops and the glossy tile backsplash. Desdemona had to begrudgingly admit that Lady Dimitrescu had impeccable taste, her jaw dropping at the sight of a large bathtub sitting upon a platform in the center of the room.

Alcina wasted no time in stripping Desdemona of her ratty clothes after she had run enough hot water for her in the tub. The steam and warmth of the water was nearly enough to send Desdemona into a state of relaxation but then she remembered Alcina wanted to have an important discussion with her in private.

  “You know as well as I do that I do not care for humans. Your life has no meaning to me and should I wish to, I could cut you open at any given moment and offer any remaining part of you to the pigs after my daughters and I are through feasting on your corpse. The only reason you are being kept alive is because my daughters are growing fond of you. They’ve ever only known the company of family and the maidens they occasionally feed on so to see a blossoming…relationship between one of my daughters and her plaything is quite remarkable.”

Desdemona doesn’t dare say a thing as Alcina gently lifts her arms to scrub them. The word “relationship” is being tossed around so casually that it makes her wonder if any of these women knew what love was or if any of them were capable of forming attachments to other people.

When the smaller woman doesn’t reply, Alcina grips the back of Desdemona’s head and yanks it back so she could growl in her ear.

“You shall treat all my daughters as equals, pet. You will not favor one over the other two and you will do whatever it takes to keep them happy if you know what’s good for you. I care about my daughters and their happiness and if that means keeping you alive, you better damn well appreciate the gift I’m giving you by allowing you serve them. You shall spoil them, love them and show them affection because if word gets out that you’ve been a naughty little human that’s broken any of their hearts, I will gut you alive.”  

Desdemona feels her fists clench and unclench underneath the bath water at the mention of being gutted alive. A tear runs down her cheek at the disturbing memory of her twin brother’s bowels piling on the floor as Veronica’s screams echoed in the back of her mind. It was horrifying having to relive that particular memory over and over again.

‘You should tell her how much you hate her for killing Desmond. Stop being a pussy and stand up for yourself! Who cares if she beats you!? She murdered Desmond, you should be fighting tooth and nail for your freedom the way Veronica has been doing.’

With a shaky voice, Desdemona swallows her pride and nods in acquiescence to Lady Dimitrescu’s requests.

“I understand, my Lady. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that their needs are fulfilled and that they remain happy under my care.” Desdemona says after a tense moment.

Alcina smiles and releases the grip she had on the smaller girl’s head.

“Good, I’m glad we were able to clear that up like reasonable adults. After I’m done tidying you up, you will spend the night with Cassandra in her room. She has been upset ever since Bela told my other girls how you’d given her a phone full of pictures of you. For your sake, I sure do hope you plan on making it up to both Cassandra and Daniela; they’re starting to feel neglected.” Alcina tells her with a wicked smile on her face and Desdemona has to stop herself from groaning out loud.

She doesn’t necessarily have a plan to appease both Cassandra and Daniela but spending the night with Cassandra was a great starting point. It didn’t help matters that she was absolutely terrified of the sadistic vampire but perhaps it wouldn’t take much to charm her.

After the somewhat relaxing bath, Desdemona was left to her own devices to explore the mansion under the watchful eyes of Alcina. Cassandra’s bedroom wasn’t too far off from the hallway she was currently wandering through but the silence that followed her throughout the castle was still quite eerie. Desdemona’s hand reached for the golden doorknob in front of her when her ears are filled with uncontrollable giggling. She squeezes the knob and slightly turns it only to swat away at a few insects buzzing around her. Desdemona looks to her left and then to her right; there’s nothing on either side of her and so she takes a deep breath, wondering if she was slowly losing her mind the longer she stayed in the castle.

Opening the door, the next thing she sees is a black shadow with glistening white teeth lunging at her. “Rawr!”

Desdemona shouts and jumps back until she hits the wall behind her, her hand clutching at her chest as she tries to steady her heavy breathing. She’s not sure if she should be relieved to see that it was just Cassandra laughing at her reaction to the stupid jump scare but at least she wasn’t in immediate danger…maybe.

“Oh, you should see the look on your face – it’s priceless! Mmm, and just listening to the sound of your heart rapidly beating in your chest is lovely music to my ears. Fear thickens your blood and the thicker the blood, the sweeter it is.” Cassandra tells her, laughter now subsiding as she stands awkwardly in the doorway.

 “Is there a reason you came to visit little ol’ me or did you get lost on your way to find Bela?” Cassandra spits out Bela’s name with disdain and Desdemona knew she had to convince Alcina’s daughters that they all meant something to her, but she had to treat them all as equals as well.

 “I came to see you, actually. I wanted to spend some time with you and get to know you better since we got off the wrong foot at the beginning of all this.” Desdemona says uncertainly, peering over Cassandra’s shoulders to see if there was something she could work with if she managed to convince her to let her in.

Cassandra gives her a once over, her eyes lingering on certain parts of Desdemona longer than most and relents.

 “I do have a few questions about some of your belongings my dear Uncle Karl found in that hideous vehicle of yours. Now, I do occasionally dabble in the arts myself but these palettes you brought with you are utterly useless and too shiny for my liking! Explain this to me!” Cassandra exclaims as she leads a befuddled Desdemona into her room which was surprisingly ordinary considering the woman’s personality.

Desdemona was about to ask what she meant by shiny when her mouth suddenly hangs open at the sight of several expensive makeup palettes thrown and scattered about. Cassandra picks up a broken Pat McGrath eyeshadow palette and attempts to dip one of her makeup brushes in one of the colors and draws a sloppy line against the canvas she had set up on an easel in front of her.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, she’s trying to paint using your one hundred-and twenty-five-dollar eyeshadow palette.’ Desdemona thinks, desperately trying hard not to cry at the loss of something so precious to her.

Desdemona rolls her lips as she recognizes one of her favorite Morphe makeup brushes lying broken in half across the other side of the room. Cassandra had gone through her makeup bag and successfully destroyed at least a few hundred dollars worth of product. If survival wasn’t a big priority right now, Desdemona would have a mental breakdown over this. For now, she’ll be happy to take a rain check.

“So, I love your enthusiasm, Cassandra, and your idea to paint on a canvas using my makeup is really…creative. How about I show you how to do your makeup with what’s left?” Desdemona asks as she picks up a relatively intact kit that Cassandra paid no mind to.

Cassandra tilts her head in confusion.

“Why would I need makeup? You’re disgusted by the sight of me, aren’t you? I know I’m not as pretty or as smart as Bela, but you don’t need to go around telling me what I don’t already know!” Cassandra screeches, her hands wrapping around Desdemona’s neck and slamming her to the nearest wall. When Cassandra begins to apply a deadly amount of pressure, Desdemona had to act quickly.

“I-I just wanted to spend time with you, Cassandra! You’re beautiful without makeup, but seeing how much you like art, I thought you’d appreciate it a different way!” Desdemona manages to say, nearly coughing up a lung when Cassandra releases her.

The dark-haired woman eyes Desdemona suspiciously but she motions for the smaller girl to continue.

“I just thought maybe you’d want to partake in an activity we both would enjoy. It’s intimate and it would just be our thing, something that no one would take away from us. You’re already gorgeous, Cassandra, but this is a thing we could do for fun. Just you and me doing each other’s makeup...and maybe after we’ve gotten to know each other better, maybe we can just do each other.” Desdemona continues as she tries to double down on her flirtatiousness. She bats her eyelashes at Cassandra and her fingers begin to twirl the ends of her long, wavy dark brown hair.

Cassandra inhales Desdemona’s scent and rolls her eyes to the back of her head as if her blood were truly intoxicating in that moment. “Okay, I’ll let you do my makeup, Little One. Just…hurry up and let’s get to the part where we get to know each other better. I can’t wait to eat you all up once you let me, my pretty little plaything.” Cassandra whispers into Desdemona’s ear, her tongue leaving a wet trail from the nape of her neck to her collarbone. She enjoys the way the smaller girl shudders against her.

“R-right, let’s sit on your bed for a minute. I have some ideas and I’ll need your input. Your opinion is extremely important to me.” Des tells Cassandra, emphasizing how much she valued Cassandra’s contributions to their playdate activity, and it seemed to boost Cassandra’s ego.

Twenty minutes later after Desdemona had helped Cassandra clean her face, Desdemona straddled Cassandra and set herself to work on Lady Dimitrescu’s most insecure daughter. The smaller brunette was leaning closely over Cassandra and it was nearly too much for Cassandra’s senses. She was steadily growing impatient but there was something fascinating in the way Desdemona looked as she began doing her makeup. She looked focused, determined and when she fixed her brilliant gray eyes into Cassandra’s, there was a playfulness in the way she smiled at her. Cassandra felt her heart squeeze at the beautiful sight of her human sitting so peacefully atop of her. She did not want to ruin this moment but Cassandra hates holding back, whether its her feelings on something or when she’s out in the wilderness hunting, she needed to voice her thoughts.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met and I’m glad you got lost in our village. I’ve met all sorts of pretty maidens but they were all so boring and rude, always screaming at the sight of us and running away from us when we wanted to play hide and seek. Your blood is so tempting, I want to bite into your neck and rip out your throat but…this, spending time like this with anyone outside of my family is nice. You’re so sweet it makes me want to taste you, but you also make me want to be around you more in a way that doesn’t involve killing, maiming, or torture, if that makes sense.” Cassandra blurts out in a rush, her cheeks glowing pink underneath the dim light of the torches in her room.

 Desdemona pauses and takes a moment to let all that sink in. Cassandra is adorably awkward, or that’s how she would describe her if she weren’t also an intimidating immortal vampire that could snap her neck at the drop of a hat. Cassandra didn’t like the long awkward pause that formed between them, so she begins digging her sharp nails into Desdemona’s thighs and the smaller girl reacts.

‘Des, you need to stab her in the eye while she’s vulnerable or if she’s really a vampire, try stabbing her in the heart! Kill her, kill her the way they so ruthlessly killed your brother and be done with it. Fight your way out of here, goddamn it!’ Desdemona’s thoughts were overwhelming her and as much as she wanted to fight the creatures that were responsible for her brother’s death and Veronica’s misery, she knew she had to discourage such thoughts from frequently forming in her mind. This game couldn’t be won if she gave in to her baser desires.

“Is your tongue coated in honey, Cassandra? I’m a little embarrassed to admit this but no one has said such lovely things to me before. It makes me want to kiss you.” Desdemona flirts as she brings her hips down against Cassandra, causing the other woman to moan aloud at the intense contact she felt between them. “So…what’s holding you back? Kiss me!” Cassandra demanded, her hands snaking underneath Desdemona’s blouse as her hands explored every inch of skin that she had access to. Desdemona accidentally lets out a moan of her own and freezes, her hands finding Cassandra’s and pinning them above her head. Cassandra liked this darker side of Desdemona, it meant that they could play rough in the bedroom and her plaything would like it. This would be the last and only time Desdemona would top her though.

“I told you, you need to let me finish your makeup and then we’ll get to the fun stuff. Patience is a virtue.” Desdemona says, laughing when Cassandra huffs and crosses her arms in displeasure. The smaller girl bites her lip when she thinks to herself how cute Cassandra seemed but the thought quickly vanishes when images of Desmond’s bloodied corpse enters her mind again.

This was going to be a long game indeed.

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Fourteen: Friends

A/N: This is the fourteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2779

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

To the other professors, breakfast came and went just as it did every other day. But Aria could sense the difference in tone from the students. To the other professors the students chatter was just as excitable as it always was. But Aria could tell it was more hushed and secretive. To the other professors, today was just a normal day, they would have gone about their day blissfully unaware of the situation that had occurred at the Three Broomsticks. Had it not been for the huge elephant in the room.

As he entered the hall that morning for breakfast not a soul in the room missed the swollen black and blue lump in place of where Snape's eye should be. Not a soul in the room missed the way he stormed in, in a fit of rage, knowing that the whole school would be talking about him. And not a soul missed the glares he sent their way daring them to confront him on the matter. But only Aria Dumbledore could see the hurt in his eyes, the embarrassment he was feeling and the pain he buried deep down for the way he had treated his friend last night.

Of course, she was angry at him. All of this was his fault. But the sadness she felt for him overcame her own dignity and she wanted to find out what it was all for. What hurt him so badly, that he felt the need to make her feel as low as he did. Aria knew this was yet another mystery of the great Severus Snape which would remain unanswered. The man was an enigma.

*

As expected, the potions master and his apprentice were curtly invited to Headmaster Dumbledore's office after breakfast to explain themselves. It had not taken long for the rumours to spread from the students all the way to the top, and it was clear Aria's grandfather was less than pleased to hear them.

"You will both be well aware of why I called you here this morning, I am sure." Dumbledore begun when the pair entered the Headmasters office. The two merely nodded, letting the old wizard speak.

"Firstly, I must begin by saying how utterly disappointed I am in the two of you. Not only in the events that transpired last night, but moreover the fact that neither of you were professional enough to come to speak to me about this first, before it got out of hand." The headmaster started, taking a seat behind his large oak desk.

Both Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape bowed their heads in shame, as they stood side by side awkwardly, neither of them daring to look at the other.

"Grandfather I-"

"Miss Dumbledore, in this current professional capacity, I would appreciate if you addressed me as your rightful superior."

"I'm sorry." She replied sheepishly. "Headmaster Dumbledore, I want to apologise for not informing you of what had happened at the Three Broomsticks but as you can see Sever-, Professor Snape did have some injuries that needing tending to and in the state that he was, I didn't think him fit enough to be left unattended to."

As she spoke Severus let out a grunt of disagreement in an attempt to mask his embarrassment.

"Whether that may be the case, Miss Dumbledore, if you are being harassed by another member of staff, your priority should be to inform me, not assist your harasser." Albus scorned.

Snape remained silent, waiting to be spoken too before opening his mouth. He was mortified by his actions in the Three Broomsticks, but even more so by what happened later that night.

"Now, which one of you would like to explain to me what happened, so I can distinguish the truth from some of the student's wild imaginations."

Aria turned her attention to the Potions master who continued to keep his head down, not willing to recall his cruel words.

"I think Professor Snape is best for that job, headmaster." Aria confessed, unwilling to let the man get off so easily.

"Very well. Aria, you may leave us." Dumbledore announced.

"What? But why?" She objected.

"As you so graciously volunteered Severus for the job, I no longer have a reason to keep you back from your duties as a professor." Dumbledore informed her calmly. "Speaking of which, you will be taking all of the potions classes alone for the time being. Professor Snape will be taking a short sabbatical."

Snape's face turned grey at the thought. Not only did he not want this young witch teaching his students, but the mention of a sabbatical made his stomach drop. He knew how he had acted was wrong, but never had it crossed his mind that he could possibly lose his job for what he had done.

"What!?" Aria gasped. "But you can't do that, he-"

"Relax, Aria dear." Dumbledore interrupted. "It is only until I get this business cleared up. With his eye looking as it does the excitement will never settle, you know how students like to gossip. Besides he can take some time to reflect on his actions while it heals." Dumbledore shot Snape a disapproving look.

Aria made to object once again, but this time Severus took the opportunity to shut her up.

"Go, Miss Dumbledore. Do not keep my students waiting." He commanded sourly.

Finally, Aria obeyed, leaving with an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach as she left the two men to talk.

Dumbledore clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and waited patiently for Severus to confess his wrong doings.

"I will not insult you, headmaster, by downplaying my actions from last night. I stupidly let my emotions get the better of me and I thought I could find a solution at the bottom of a bottle of Fire Whiskey, I was wrong. I said disgusting things to your granddaughter and believe me no one can judge me more than I am judging myself right now." Snape could not bring himself to meet the old wizards disappointed gaze.

"And your eye, how did that situation occur." Albus questioned, feeling slightly sorry for the professor, despite the trouble he has caused.

"It was well deserved." Snape admitted. "A 'friend' of your granddaughter's rightfully put a stop to my embarrassing display. I apologise whole heartedly for every mistake I made last night."

"That is all very good and well, Severus. But have you said this to her?"

Severus hung his head.

"I see. May I suggest that be your first port of call." Albus advised.

"Of course."

The Professors sat in dead silence. It was clear both of them were in their own heads more than the conversation.

"Is there something more I should know, Severus?" Dumbledore eyed the man skeptically.

Severus paused for a moment, debating whether to confide in his friend.

"No, sir." He lied. His voice remained void of all emotion.

"Aria could be a great friend to you, Severus. Do not throw that chance away, again. Learn from your past mistakes." The Headmaster warned.

Albus Dumbledore's words resonated with Severus all day. The old man was right. He had once lost his only friend due to a small moment of emotional vulnerability paired with the harshness of his words, he could not re-live that experience. There was only one way to avoid losing Aria from his life completely, any feelings he may have had for her now had to be buried entirely.

*

Storming into her first lesson of the day, the room fell silent upon Aria's entry. The students waited a minute or two, expecting the presence of their most feared professor, which never came.

Aria begun the lessons as Severus always did; silently writing out paragraphs of information for the students to copy. It didn't take long for the fifth years to realise Snape would not be joining them this morning and so they set about asking their more relaxed potions professor all of the questions they were just dying to know the answers to, regarding the events of the previous night.

"Professor Dumbledore, where's Professor Snape, isn't he going to teach us?" It began.

"Unfortunately, today I will be solely be teaching Professor Snape's classes." Aria answered, turning her back on the classroom of students and continued to scribble on the chalk board.

"I heard he shouted at you in front of everyone in the Three Broomsticks yesterday Miss, is that true?" One of the Ravenclaw girls dared to ask.

"You should have seen him." Another laughed. "He was absolutely wrecked, knocked back almost a full bottle of Fire Whiskey apparently."

Aria chose not to respond.

"You were there? What did he say?" A curious Gryffindor inquired, wanting to hear the full story for himself. The two started quietly conversing up the back of the class, letting some more students get their accusations in.

"Is it true you are Karkaroff were caught going at it in the potions cupboard, Miss." Another boy bravely chuckled. "Is that where Snape found you?"

"That's can't be true." Someone else defended, shaking their head in disbelief.

"It is so, didn't you see the two of them at dinner yesterday? He could barely keep his hands off of her." Another whispered.

A few gasps and giggles broke out among the students as they continued to speculate.

"I heard she's the one who punched Snape, did you see his eye today?

"To be fair I don't blame her, he is a bit of a wanker, he probably deserved it."

"Don't be so stupid. It wasn't her; it was her boyfriend, I saw it myself."

"Did Snape actually call you a Slut, Miss?"

The room went quiet anticipating their teacher's response.

"Enough!" She yelled, slamming her hand on the desk as she turned to face them. The class stared at her, stunned.

"I don't want to hear any more of this." She started, putting down her chalk. "I am well aware that some of you may have witnessed the incident that occurred in the Three Broomsticks last night and while Professor Snape's little outburst may have happened extremely publicly, this gives none of you the right to make things worse by making up these stupid stories. I am going to settle this once and for all and I want to hear no more of it, do you understand?" The class nodded silently.

"First off; no, Professor Snape has not been fired, nor would I want him to be. He will resume his position as your potion's professor in a few days' time, and I warn all of you that this nonsense better be done with by then. He will not let you off as lightly as I have done." Aria walked around her desk, resting on the edge as she spoke.

"Secondly, any rumours you have heard regarding me and Headmaster Karkaroff are completely false. Professor Snape got the wrong impression and has now been informed of his mistake. In addition to this, anything you may have heard surrounding me and any other member of staff, or indeed students..." She said through gritted teeth. "... is also false. This includes Professor Snape."

A moment of chatter bubbled among the students, before once again falling silent.

"As for the man I was with, he was nothing more than a friend. And after the way he treated Professor Snape, he is no longer even that. Violence in any form will not be tolerated, no matter the circumstances. I will personally deal with any student supporting the actions of this man or the harming of Professor Snape, regardless of anything he may or may not have said." Aria finished.

"Is all of this abundantly clear?" She asked the class, receiving a chorus of agreement in response.

Aria let the students know to spread this information throughout the school to combat the rumours surrounding her and Severus Snape's altercation, and they graciously obliged. She received very little harassment or questions for the rest of the day, although she knew it was almost impossible to put an end to all of the speculations this early on.

*

Whilst packing up her papers to return to her quarters for an early night, Aria was startled by a sharp knock on the door.

"Come in." She called, not bothering to stop what she was doing. It wasn't until he was standing right in front of her did Aria even recognise who it was. "Severus." The professor said in shock. "Knocking to get into your own class room now?"

"As it were, this appears to be your classroom for the time being, Miss Dumbledore." He droned, watching her intently as she went about her business.

"For a few days at least, it seems." She shrugged. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I came for an update on my classes' progression. While I might not be teaching them, this does not mean I am willing to relinquish all of my responsibilities quite yet. I don't imagine you have anything prepared." He sneered, continuing to analyse the desk.

"Actually, Professor Snape, I have." She retorted, handing him a small binder. "There you will find every class organised by year and then by level of difficulty; I have written a small summary of what we covered in the classes and how far we hope to progress. All students are listed individually and sorted by house, each detailing how well they coped with the lesson and what they need to work on. I shall give you another update tomorrow, and each day after until you are back. Happy?" She smirked.

"Very impressive." He hummed, unamused, snatching the binder from her and making to leave.

As Snape reached the exit, one hand holding the door ajar, he let his fingers tap on the wood indecisively. Letting out a small huff of breath Severus turned on his heel, re-entering the classroom as he remembered his promise to the headmaster.

"There is one more thing, Miss Dumbledore." The potions master announced, bringing her back to his attention.

"Mmhmm." Aria hummed, continued to flick through her papers, making sure she had what she needed.

"If you could actually pay attention, Miss Dumbledore, I would be able to get out of your hair much faster." Severus hissed through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"What do you want, Severus." His apprentice huffed. "I do have things to be getting on with. Spit it out."

Snape clenched his jaw and pursed his lips, trying his damn best not to insult the girl.

Couldn't she just listen for five seconds when he was actually trying to be nice to her? He thought.

"I... I want you to know." Snape stuttered, coughing to clear his throat. "I need you to know. Everything I said last night, I didn't mean any of it. I was drunk, and sometimes emotions that we would all like to keep hidden show themselves, do you understand?"

"I get it, Severus. I know you wouldn't have said those things under normal circumstances. You were stressed." Aria accepted, immediately going back to her piles of parchment.

"Look at me." Snape snapped. "You do not understand. I am apologising for my actions in the Three Broomsticks, of course I am. But the point I would most like to stress is... Can we just forget yesterday never happened? All of it."

Aria stared deep into the Professor's eyes knowing he was desperate for her attention. Ignoring the fact he was battered and bruised, she could see the pain in his eyes. The desperateness for her to agree with him, to forget that anything ever happened between them, or rather could have happened.

"Don't worry about it, Severus. Nothing happened as far as I am concerned." She reached out to him, resting a hand on his bicep and flashing a comforting smile.

A hint of a smile threatened on Severus' lips. But as soon as it came it was gone once again. Snape stepped away from the woman, letting her get on with her work.

"Can we agree on one thing, Severus?" Aria asked, keeping her attention on him finally. Snape nodded, allowing her to continue. "The students are having a field day with all of this. I think it would be in everyone's interest for us to try and get along. Hopefully it will dull down a lot of the rumours if they see us acting civil. What do you think? Friends?" She proposed.

Snape let out a small huff of amusement, letting the sides of his lips curl up, contently.

"Friends." He agreed, stepping out of the room quietly.

Taglist: 

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

[hqprotectionsquad]

Notice Me (Kenma x Reader)

Title: Notice Me Pairing: Kenma x F!Reader Summary: If you move in with Kenma, you save money and you get to go to your dream school in Tokyo. Just one thing: you start developing a crush on your roommate who you barely know. Word Count: 2441 A/N: This is the original fic I had planned before I lost it for a few bits. I wrote a whole HC set for this, which is very similar because I wrote down everything I could remember. This would be an extension of a sort in that case.

A few months ago, it was never like this. You were just about ready to attend a junior college because your top choice university waitlisted you for your program. You were okay with it, considering the price was significantly less than what you expected to pay at university. What are two years working on transferrable credits anyway? In the grand scheme of things, you were making the right choice.

And then you got off of the waitlist. You jumped for joy and your parents baked you a cake for your achievements. Everything was dandy, up until you remembered the tuition. It wasn’t like you’d be in crippling debt if you attended, just debt that isn’t as crippling.

Luckily, your neighbor, Kenma is also moving to Tokyo, to study something like business or management or something like that? You don’t do much of exploring his personality until you hear a plan that your mom proposes to you.

“Mom, are you serious?” You can’t believe what your ears are hearing.

“Of course! We don’t have much money to send you, let alone boarding. So while you’re in Tokyo, you can stay with Kenma! Kenma will have a large enough apartment, according to his parents when I spoke to them about this.”

“You already spoke to them about it?!”

“Yes! And you both move in two weeks.”

It’s weird, packing up your entire life is weird. Waves of nostalgia crash every time you notice an old toy you used to play with or old photos you forgot existed. Soon enough, you’ve got everything you need in boxes that will meet you in Tokyo.

Tokyo. It still feels like a fever dream. Something that is, but you aren’t sure how it happened. A few months ago, you were days away from enrolling in junior college, and now, you’re going to Tokyo.

Today, your family packs the car with all of your clothing and things that can be easily carried. Later on, you’re in the apartment, settling your items. Soon enough, your family’s back in the emptier car on their way home. Everything goes too quickly.

The process of getting to know Kenma goes too slowly. Sure, you’ve been his neighbor for your entire life, but you’ve never really spoken to him, even though you’ve gone to the same high school and boarded the train together in the mornings.

Now, if you have classes in the morning, you take the train with him to the university. Still, after a few weeks of moving in together, you haven’t spoken much to him. It’s like ebb and flow, except he’s flowing at his own pace.

On the train to classes one day, you ask, “Kenma, do you want to have dinner together? I can pick up something after my last class.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m streaming something tonight.” So that’s all the noise he makes at two in the morning, not that you could assume anything based on the yelling.

“Oh. I didn’t know you streamed. Um, what do you stream?” You don’t want this conversation to stop. From all the years you’ve known him, you were actually jealous of Kuroo for being able to know Kenma so well. This could be your chance to see what’s going on behind that pretty face of his.

“Mostly games.” He digs into his messenger bag and you assume that the conversation is over. This is it, he probably just wants to be roommates without being friends. “You forgot this earlier, by the way. On the counter.” He puts a book into your hand.

“Thank you.” And thus begins your habit of forgetting things and him retrieving them for you. For the most part, it’s not on purpose; you’re just a forgetful human being. However, one time, you checked to see if he’d actually notice if you left something. It was a bit of a gamble, but you just wanted to see. Sure enough, Kenma came right before your class began to hand off a notebook.

These drop-offs are simple, yet his attention to detail is what draws you to him. His perspective means everything when you’re asking him for his opinion on assignments or life events.

You wish there was something more, though. He’s so reserved. It’s not like he’s actively trying to hide something, but maybe, he just wants to be by himself.

That’s such a lonely life.

He has his friend Kuroo, as far as you know, who is a year older than you two. You’re at the extremes of your mind, weighing the pros and cons between your two halves. If you try to befriend Kuroo, that could be your way to knowing Kenma, but Kenma might also be confused by your friendship with his friend. If you don’t try to befriend Kuroo, then you’re essentially stuck in the same place without a stimulant to move forward.

So you do what any college student would do; decide your fate on a coin flip. Heads is get to know Kuroo, and tails is to stay stagnant and find a way through. You flick the coin off of your thumb and it sails into the air until it finds solace in your hand. You slap the coin onto your opposite hand, and what do you know, it lands on—

“Heads.”

Huh. You’re going to have quite a time. You even begin laughing to yourself because you have no idea how to start.

“You know, Kuroo’s a chemistry tutor.” Your friend informs you after she sees your brain unfolding when you go out for a literature study session. She seemed very concerned, but you reassure her that you simply had a crush on your roommate and you aren’t sure how to go about it.

“I’m taking introductory chemistry, and I’m not near failing, Mika.”

“Exactly, it could just be supplemental and you use the studying so you can get a better grade.”

“You know what, I think you’re right. I’m going to do that.” A smile graces your lips and it’s something in between a smirk and a genuine grin, but you’ll take it.

The next time you visit the library, you stop by the corkboard by the entrance. You trace your fingers to find the chemistry tutoring sign-ups and you find Kuroo’s name at the top of a page in bold font. Lines are filled left and right, and you find an opening for two days from now. Now that you’re looking at it, there aren’t too many girls who have signed up for him, just mostly boys. You suppose you’ll find out why soon.

When you approach a table on the day you’ll be tutored, your mouth gapes when you see the face of this guy. How are there more boys who sign up for him than girls? If you weren’t faithful to your mission, you’d probably be reconsidering everything.

“Hey, I’m (Y/N), you’re Kuroo, right? You’re tutoring me in intro chemistry,” you say as you take a seat and unload your notebook and textbook from your backpack. You place your items onto the table, including your trusty highlighters and pencil case.

“Hey.” He offers you a smile. “Glad you could make it.” He does one look over you before asking, “Haven’t we met before? This isn’t an attempt to pick you up, but I mean if you wanted me to, I wouldn’t object.”

You roll your eyes and grin. This guy has no shame from the get-go. “Maybe in passing. I’m Kenma’s roommate.”

“Right, right, that’s where I’ve seen you.” Kuroo nods. “So did you want to get into the parts you have trouble with or do you want to do a brief overview first?”

“Brief overview would be good.” You start to get into all of the general basics of chemistry, like the formulas and diagrams you’ll need for tests. The way Kuroo explains all of this makes so much sense, even the things you thought you knew before.

“Alright! Water break.” It’s been about an hour, but judging by Kuroo’s expression, you might be here a little longer. Even though the world has passed by around you, it feels like you just arrived and introduced yourself.

“Have you considered being a teacher? You’re really good at explaining.”

After chugging down half of his bottle, he runs some fingers through his hair and you’re surprised he can even get them out based on the messy appearance. “I’ve thought about it, but I kind of want to go into forensics or research. Something like that. But something tells me you’re not here because you want to do better on your tests.”

“Red-handed,” you say with your hands up. “What makes you think that though?”

“You’ve kind of got everything down, but I wouldn’t expect anything else from a pretty and smart girl like you.”

Your mouth hangs open just the slightest bit and you have to force yourself to press your lips into a smile. You try to look anywhere else except meet his eyes. “I,” you stop to breathe. “I’m flattered, but um, I guess I did come here with a different intention than just studying.”

“And that would be?” Kuroo clasps his hands together and leans forward. By the looks of it, he’s even tilting his head so his ear faces towards you.

Your breath can’t make a silver barrier between Kuroo and your flushed cheeks. “I, um, kind of have developed a crush on Kenma, and since you’re his friend—”

“Damn. I really thought I could get a girl from tutoring, but it looks like she’s only interested in my best friend.” He then does this thing where it looks like he’s smirking and fake crying at the same time and you can’t really tell what he’s trying to accomplish from this. Still, he bites his lip and you’re led to believe he’s actually a little upset that he’s being passed over.

“I’m sorry, Kuroo.”

“Why are you sorry?” He laughs through his question.

“I don’t know.” With your smile on your face, you peer down at your chemistry notes, the ones you’ve just written. “I’m really thankful for all your help with this. I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve taken advantage of you.”

“Believe me, it’s no big deal. You’re one of the first girls I’ve tutored and you’re pretty cool. I still don’t know why I keep getting guys to tutor, don’t know what witch cursed me with that.” Kuroo clicks his tongue before continuing, “But you’re his roommate. Shouldn’t you at least know him up to a certain extent? I just don’t get it when you could just try to seduce him.” He pauses. “Don’t actually do that, it probably won’t work, it’s Kenma.”

“Exactly. He’s been my neighbor for basically all of my life, but I don’t know him enough to try to start something. I can’t tell if he enjoys my company or not.”

“You know what, I know you’re Kenma’s roommate and you barely know him, which is understandable, because it’s Kenma. Come check out the intramural games and you’ll get to meet the team.”

You tilt your head at his statement. “Intramural games? For what?”

“For volleyball. Kenma’s the setter, I’m the captain for our team.” Kuroo nods. “Saturday at 4. I’ll invite you out for ice cream and it’ll be all cool.” He starts packing up his stuff and shoving it into his backpack.

“Alright, I’ll see you then,” you confirm while you mirror his actions. You bid him goodbye and the last thing you hear from him is mumbling that you had to, of course, like his best friend.

Saturday comes and you wish you could say it wasn’t a blur, but with all of the volleyball lingo—still unsure what some of the positions are, but at least you know Kenma’s—and the men just talking amongst themselves, it’s not hard to get stuck in the whirlwind.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

You give your head a little shake before looking to see who was speaking to you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for asking, Kenma.”

“If you don’t want to be here, I can take us back to the apartment. I’m sure Lev’s loud voice is hurting your ears.” He casts a strained glance to the man leaning back on the counter, slurping his ice cream like it’s a soup. The rest of the lot is in the circle, speaking to teammates, and whoever happened to respond to Kuroo’s invitation. Turns out you weren’t the only one that wanted to share in the company of the team.

With your unfinished ice cream cup still in your hand, you bid goodbye to Kuroo and the other team members. Turns out there really is a whole world outside of your small circle at the university. Without them, you wouldn’t have realized how interesting life could be if you continued to hang out with them all.

You wondered if you kept this up, maybe you’d have a chance with Kenma, and so you did. They were all kind enough to allow you to tag onto their plans, even if you’ve stuck onto them like unwanted glue residue. They never grumbled when you walked into cafes with Kuroo, nor did they whisper underneath their breath when you joined them for movie nights at Tora’s apartment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were becoming very good friends with all of them, including your roommate.

Nowadays, he’ll subtly expect to have dinner together when you are both free and you’ll commute to school with him on the days that your classes start around the same time. All the while, you’re still trying to talk to him. Ask him about the weather, what can he recommend as far as video games go — anything that will get him to move his mouth. He really enjoys talking about the games he plays and it seems like that’s his life. Behind his nonchalant expression, fiery eyes dance.

One day on the train, he sits next to you. Everything takes you back to earlier in the year when you barely knew him. All it took was volleyball and the intervention of a very important person in Kenma’s life. He’s no longer just a roommate. He’s a friend, someone to talk to, someone who listens to you.

He turns his head and looks you up and down, from your eyes to your shoes. His gaze is sure but slow, and you aren’t certain of his intentions.

Finally, he asks, “(Y/N), are you flirting with me?”

Hearing this come from his lips tugs your own into a smile. “You finally noticed?”

navi! | master list | tag list form

[buckygirl-fanfiction]

Sparks Chapter 34

Pairing: Bucky POV X Reader POV 

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: drug use? Angst...

Summary: Best friends who fall in love.

July 21, 2017

y/n’s POV

“Will you just chill…” I say, “Shhhhhhhh hush” I say holding my index finger to my lips. Effy sits across from me on the sofa on her phone yelling at whoever is on the other side of the line.

“Fucking fix it or you’re fired!” She hangs up. She does have a flare for the dramatic.

I hear a knock at my door and sigh with annoyance at the intrusion. “Can you get that?” I say refusing to get up from my relaxed position on the sofa.

“No it’s your apartment,” she says, “where’s the grinder?”

I toss her the little pink cylinder and push myself off the couch and stumble over to the door. I look through the peephole and to my surprise I find Cho standing in the hallway. Crap.

I take a deep breath and open the door, “hey,” I say trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Hey,” she says with a smile that rapidly fades away when she gets a whiff of my apartment. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” She says anger filling her usually soft features.

“What… you honestly can not be mad at me right now… it’s like the vegan drug.” I say trying to defend my current situation. “You’re acting like you’ve never smoked!”

“In college! You’re a full blown adult now! I can’t believe--” She continues what I expect is going to be a long winded rant that I cut off.

“Will you just come inside!” I say grabbing her arm and pulling her in. I shut the door behind her and make my way back into the living room where Effy sits watching tv.

“Cho! Long time no see!” She says briefly pulling her attention away from the screen. “Hey do you want a hit? You should! I’m telling you watching Game of Thrones when you’re stoned is a spiritual experience!”

“Effy shut up…” I say sitting down on the arm chair. “Alright,” I say turning my attention back to Cho. “Continue your rant.”

“You know what. I’m not going to. You know what you’re doing. You are mature enough to make your own choices,” Cho says crossing her arms. Her stance screams disapproval. But, I know better. I’ve know her long enough to know under everything she’s all concern.

“You’re acting like you’ve never been a pothead,” I say rolling my eyes.

“You��re doing it for the wrong reasons.”

“And what reasons are you referring to?” I retort.

“Bucky.”

“Helen Cho I am too stoned right now to think about that and you will not bring me down right now!” I yell quite loudly and startle Effy on the sofa.

“You really think avoiding your problems will solve them?”

“He isn’t a problem.” I reply adamantly.

“Fine. I’m leaving.”

“Goodnight.” I say regrettably in an icy tone and she walks towards the door. I hear a slam and lie back and close my eyes. I hate when my friends are disappointed in me and Cho is everything to me. I can already physically feel myself going down and sad high is something I do not want to be right now.

Music. Some loud music. That’s what I need right now. To drown everything out.

Bucky’s POV

11pm

I’m sitting next to Steve in Cho’s apartment when I hear the front door open. I turn quite hopefully towards the noise and to my disappointment I find Cho walk in alone, closing the door behind her.

“y/n’s busy,” she says and walks over to Steve taking her seat next to him. “She said she’d join us next time though. For sure,” Cho says smiling at me with pity. I’ve been alive long enough to know the truth of the situation.

We watch the rest of the movie in silence and I take my leave around 1am. Steve pats me on the shoulder in a sort of all knowing way that I find extremely annoying. He takes his leave to the kitchen to tidy up while Cho loiters around the living room.

“Hey wait,” she says as I reach the door. “You should go talk to her.”

“What?”

“y/n you should go talk to her. Not now though because shes--”

“Busy…” I say cutting her off.

“Yeah, but you should go talk to her.” Cho says with something in her eyes that I can’t quite read.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I reply. Then turn back towards the door.

“You’re an idiot you know that,” I hear impatience in her tone.

“What?” I say taken quite aback.

“She’s scared and if you don’t reassure her. If you give up. You’re never going to get her back.”

“I never even had her in the first place. So there isn’t anything to get back.” I say opening the door. This is the most frank i’ve been with Cho about my feelings for y/n in… well years. I walk out and hear her footsteps behind me.

“You had a friend. You had a really amazing friend in her and you owe it to her… or you weren’t the friend I thought you were to begin with.” With those parting words she shuts the door and I stand speechless.

They resonate with me, her words. They echo in my brain hours after they’d been spoken. Haunting me. Stealing my peace, my sanity; just like y/n.

y/n’s POV

3am

“You’re leaving?” I ask still lying motionless on the sofa.

“Yeah,” Effy says tossing her things into her bag. “I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow with some potential clients.”

“Wait, give me one more hit,” I say pushing myself up on wobbly legs.

I blow out the smoke and fall back on my sofa and watch the white haired woman on the screen as I feel myself slowly slip away.

“Call me tomorrow night yeah? We can go out.” I hear Effy call from a distance.

“You’re cancerous Effy. But I will.” I say tilting my head back and listening to the dialogue.

After the credits play I walk over to the kitchen and open my freezer looking for something cold. “Fuck.” I mutter when all I see is mango ice cream. I want mint. Mint chocolate chip.

I shut the door and walk over to the living room and dig out my wallet from my purse, grab my jacket, slip on a pair of flats, and head out. The great thing about New York, even if it’s 3am there is always a bodega open somewhere. I stumble down the stairs and regret living in a building without an elevator. On the last flight I bump into a solid figure and say, “Crap! Sorry.”

“y/n?” I hear my name and even before I look up I know who it is.

“Bucky?” Fuck my entire life. No fuck my entire existence. “Fuck me.” I say before I can stop myself.

“Are you okay?” he says grabbing my shoulders and steadying me.

“Yeah. I’m great!” I say trying to snap myself out of my high and back into reality.

“You’re eyes are really red.” He says holding up my face. “Fuck y/n,” he says when he realizes.

“No sir! You do not get to judge me!” I say shoving him. I walk past him but before I can continue my journey to mint chocolate chip he grabs my wrist bringing me to a halt.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my ice cream,” I say annoyed trying to pull free from his hold. But it’s futile and even stoned me knows that.

“What? No--” he tugs my arm and I cut him off.

“I want mint chocolate chip ice cream right now. Because that is literally the only happiness in my life so shhhhhhhhhhh!” I say still tugging trying to free myself from his grasp. When I realize my current plan of action is failing I resort to a colder measure. I take a step up so i’m level with his face and we are nose to nose now. “So, unless you taste like mint, and i’m sure you do, I suggest you let go of my arm,” I say lightly brushing my lips against his. He closes his eyes a takes a sharp breath and I smile as I feel the grip on my wrist loosen.

I take my freedom and strut away down the stairs.

“That was cruel,” I hear him say in his deep voice. I can hear his footsteps close behind me.

“Was it?” I say feeling my spirit rise already. This is bad. His proximity should not be affecting me this much.

Bucky’s POV

It’s still dark outside although the summer brings with it early sunrises. I’m sitting on y/n’s arm chair as she lounges across the sofa picking at the pint of ice cream. She never breaks eye contact and the dialogue of some medieval themed show plays in the background.

“You’re ruining my high,” she says narrowing her eyes at me.

“What?” I ask.

She gets up from her spot on the sofa and pads over towards me and I can feel my ancient heart beat a little faster. She sits beside me on one of the arms of the chair and continues to stare.

“What?”

“Why did you come here?” She asks.

“To talk,” I reply. It’s true Cho’s words had kept me up half the night and I had to make things right.

“At 4am?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“Okay then let’s talk.” I’m rendered silent by her words. “Well then talk!” She says a little louder.

“y/n…”

“y/n what?” She says angrily.

“What are we doing?”

“Well I’m trying to be happy and you’re harshing my buzz,” she says laughing.

“Is it because… me?” I ask. Did I really break her that badly?

“Oh don’t flatter yourself Barnes. I have a lot of other ghosts i’m trying to escape from. You’re just one of many.” At the moment I catch a glint in her eyes. The same glint I saw in her tear stained face when she said goodbye to Ben. Then I realize. It is because of me. I’ve brought nothing but hurt into her life.

“Why am I even one? How can I fix it?” I say heartbroken, torn, by the very thought that I could cause her pain.

“I don’t know. You don’t mean to. It’s just me.”

“Classic line. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’…” I say trailing off.

She slips off the arm of the chair and into my lap. I feel her cool hands against my cheeks and she raises my face to meet hers.

“Cliches are cliche for a reason. Trust me when I say it’s not you.” I can feel her light breath against my skin and smell her intoxicating scent. “I’m sorry i’ve been an asshole,” she says.

“I’m sorry i’ve been a dick.”

“You haven’t. You’re sweet. You’re all sweetness.” She says inching closer to my face. She hesitates for a second then kisses me. Slowly, softly, and I melt into her. I’m frozen by her touch. It’s brief, the kiss. Too brief. She pulls me into a hug after and I find my limbs again and wrap my arms around her. I inhale and hear her softly whisper. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I reply.

A/N: So yeah. idk what do you guys think. I need some reader feedback, like always.

[written-s0ul]

Finding Home (3)

Summary: Avengers High School AU. Gender neutral reader-insert. You, the new kid, just want to be left alone. But instead, you get the Avengers gang – and maybe, a new home too.

Warnings: Cursing. Family drama. :( A bit of angst.

Author’s Note: Hello there! I’m sorry this took a while too. Had trouble who was gonna show up here, but I think I like how it came out. (: Enjoy! Lemme hear your thoughts. ❤️

Finding Home: Part #1: beginning. Part #2: accusation. Part #3: restless. Part #4: coin. Part #5: haze.

3: restless

adj. uneasy / nervous

You will not go to Tony’s party. Nope, nope, nope. That’s what you’ve decided on the moment you slept, and the moment you woke up, and the moment you left the house, and the moment you entered school. Because if you did go, you know where it will lead to, and where it will end. How it will end. And it won’t be good.

Wait by my locker. Just gotta finish something, Natasha said in her text. You clicked it, saw the time when it arrived: 12:23PM.

Leaning against her locker, you shoved one hand deep inside the pockets of your jacket, fingers pulling on its fabric, and glanced over to the wall clock above the heads of the rushing students. 12:32PM. What’s taking her so long?

You looked down, frowned as your gaze landed on an approaching Tony, his gait confident and indifferent to whoever ended up in his way. He gestured to your jacket, eyes squinting. “What brand is that? I can’t identify it.”

That’s because it came from a thrift store. Your brows furrowed. “I have a name.”

“I’m sure.” He looked around, spinning in this empty corner of the hallway by the lockers. “Where’s Nat?” he asked, facing you now.

You shrugged a shoulder. “She said she has something to finish first,” you said, then gestured to a nearby stairwell. “I was actually considering looking for her. You want to–”

“Nope,” he said. “I’m not here for her.”

The corners of your lips fell. Huh? “But you just asked–”

“We have to talk.” His eyes gleamed, like smooth, brown stones glinting beneath the gaze of the sun. Graver than you’ve ever seen him. Leaning against the locker beside you, he wasn’t inches-from-your-nose close, but close enough to feel the gravity of his presence, without entirely invading your personal space. You swallowed.

He glanced down, must have seen the movement in your throat, as he raised his palms up, as if that would make him appear any more innocent and harmless. “Relax. I’m not here to play bad cop. Unless you’re into that kind of thing?” he asked, one brow cocked. “I won’t judge.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, like what the fuck is point of this conversation. “Did you want something, Tony?”

He pressed his lips together and crossed his arms underneath his chest. His AC/DC shirt hugged his muscles tight, leaner than Steve’s but thicker than Bruce’s. “You weren’t there at lunch today.”

Oh. You didn’t realize anyone would notice. It’s not like your presence was anything remarkable. You’ve barely made any effort to. Mostly, you were contented with sitting back and watching them go and do their thing, speaking only when necessary. You weren’t a part of them, after all. And you shouldn’t be. “Right, sorry, I, uh,” you said, glancing down to the smudges of dirt on the linoleum floor, a hand rubbing the back of your neck. “Had to run some errands first, go by the library and stuff.”

Earlier, when you had told Natasha this, she didn’t look at all convinced. But she smiled and nodded, then reminded you to eat and wait for her before heading to your next class. Then, you ate your homemade lunch by the stairwell in the empty fourth floor, where no one ever passes by during breaks.

Now, Tony was looking at you, expression blank except for the grim and frowning lines drawn across it. Your chest squeezed all around your throbbing heart, as it pulsed louder and louder and louder in your ears. Don’t call me out, you thought. Just accept it and move on. Don’t call me out, don’t call me out, don’t –

He looked away, humming out some noncommittal and dismissive sound. Your entire body relaxed, but you held back a relieved sigh, lest he notice that too. “Sure, okay,” he said, returning his gaze on you. “How ‘bout the party later? You going?”

Oh. Well, he could just gone first with that. You already have answer. Don’t you? “Uh … well, um,” you said, forehead wrinkling. Wow, this was harder to say out loud than you thought. “I, uh–”

He let out a low groan. “Give me your phone,” he said, stretching out an open palm. But you only stared at it, brows knitted together, glancing at him with a mixture of distrust and puzzlement. He heaved out an exasperated sigh. “Not a bad cop, remember?”

You stared at him for a few more beats, before finally relenting, though not without unlocking the phone beforehand. He then eased it out of your hand, almost as a display of his harmless intentions, and began to type, fingers dashing across the screen in lightning speed. Soon, he was handing it back to you. Your gaze stayed on him, frowning, then fell on the screen. It was a phone number, now saved in your contacts under the name The Futurist. Your frown deepened. “Is this yours?” you asked.

His brows rose, like who else? “It’s for when you finally decide – whether you’re going or not,” he said. “Just call that. I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, I don’t think that’s necessary–”

“Look,” he said, a breath of significant weight and length blowing out of his nose. “Nat told me everything. To be honest, it astounds me that you don’t even want to go to one of my parties. I don’t just invite anyone, you know. But I shouldn’t have forced it onto you like that. Wasn’t right. So – let me make it up to you.”

You blinked, stunned.

“For the record, I also don’t just give my number to anyone. Or give them a free ride anywhere.”

The corners of your lips fell, brows furrowing. “Doesn’t everyone already know where you live?”

One edge of his lips perked up. “Who said the party was gonna be at my place?” Turning around, he began to walk away, with some level of swagger in his stride. “See you around, Newbie!”

You watched until he blended among the mass of students, then looked back down at the new contact in your phone. Huh. What could have provoked him – the egotistical Tony Stark – to extend such generosity? Then, you wondered: what the hell did Natasha say?

The sound of your name brought you out of your thoughts, as you lifted your head to find Natasha in front of you, along with – T’Challa! Right, one of your classmates in your English Lit. Both of them were looking at you with their brows knitted together, puzzled but concerned.

“What you got there, dreamy eyes?” Natasha said, nodding at your phone as she stepped forward towards her locker and began unlocking it.

You immediately shook your head, giving each of them a tight but reassuring smile, as you locked your phone and shoved it inside one of the pockets of your jeans, and subsequently, your hands in those of your jacket.

She gave you another look, but said no more word about it. “Sorry for making you wait. We were working on something–” She nodded in T’Challa’s direction, who gave you a polite smile.

You waved it off, just as T’Challa cleared his throat, and shifted his gaze to look at her. “I’ll be expecting your half of the report this weekend, Natasha?”

“You have my permission to take all the credit if I don’t,” she said, grabbing a few textbooks from the locker.

The edges of his lips perked up, smooth and light; the way men of elegance and high class would. “Let’s hope it doesn’t lead to that.”

Once the locker was locked, Natasha glanced at her wristwatch. “Okay, so,” she said, looking up at you. “You have Physics next, right?” When you nodded, the corners of her lips fell. “Damn. My next one’s on the other side of the building–”

You shook your head, huffing out a sheepish chuckle. “You don’t always have to walk me to my classes, Nat–”

“I’ll be very much willing to,” T’Challa said, hands folded behind his back. “I believe the chemistry laboratory is across the physics classroom?”

Your jaw unhinged. “Well, yes – but, god, it’s really –”

He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m afraid we will have to walk together. Our destinations are too close not to.”

Damn, he makes a good point. Natasha beamed at you, teasing and brows arching with suggestion. You only frowned at her, unamused. “I’ll see you around, then?” she said, expression softening to something a bit more sad.

Exasperation aside, you returned the smile, much more tender than usual. “See you, Nat.”

She pressed her lips together, but nodded, and after bidding T’Challa farewell as well, she turned and strode ahead, through the maze of several students still scattered around, waiting for the bell to ring, until she disappeared once turning into another hallway. Your gaze shifted to the wall clock. 12:41PM.

“Four more minutes,” T’Challa said, just as you met his gaze. He adjusted the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder, then gestured to a nearby stairwell. “Shall we?”

Silence was so deadly. It itched your throat, scratched your skin, poked your mind unceasingly; persistent even when you shoved it aside and paid it no heed – and it won’t stop until you finally cracked and sliced it through and through. And you wished you could. But what the hell were you going to say? It wasn’t like you were friends with T’Challa, even with a class and a few projects done together. Not that you should be friends –

“You didn’t join us at lunch today,” he said, meeting your hurried pace with much commendable grace.

Oh. You would have been grateful he’d spoken up first, but surprise took most of your attention. He noticed too? Was your presence that notable? You didn’t even talk eighty percent of the time! “Some stuff to do,” you said, shrugging a shoulder.

“Ah.” He bobbed his head, gaze shifting to the windows on the other side of the hall. Silence then settled, as your mind went back to your encounter with Tony earlier, and his blatant disbelief in the reason of your absence. And then you remembered: who said the party will be at my place?

You wondered if T’Challa knew. Worth a shot, you thought, considering his quick acceptance of your vague response. Clearing your throat, you didn’t even look at him, as you threw the question out there with as much nonchalance as you can. “You going to Tony’s party later?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “I won’t be able to. We’ll be celebrating my uncle’s birthday with a gala in the city tonight, and as tedious as it is, I cannot let him down.” He looked at you, just as you allowed yourself to look at him, brows furrowed with understanding – but mostly with wonder at the realization of his wealth. “Will you be attending?” he asked.

You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t even know where it will be.”

“Stark has given you his number, is that correct?” Your eyes widened. How could he have –

With a small, smug smile, he gestured to the pocket of your jeans, where your phone was jutting out. “You were staring at it earlier, when Natasha and I had arrived,” he said. “They’ve decided a while ago it will not be at Stark’s residence anymore. But if you go, you will find out where.”

Huh. Where could they possibly be doing it? This town didn’t exactly have that much event venues for a party. Not that you knew of, anyway. You haven’t even been here for six months.

“But that isn’t really what’s stopping you, is it?” he said. You perked up, caught his gaze with wide eyes. Seeing this only stretched the corners of his lips, however, and confirmed whatever he was thinking. “I wasn’t far from where you are now two years ago, when I had just arrived in this country.”

Reaching two flight of stairs, you slowed your ascent to keep your focus on him, as he climbed up beside you with great ease. “It is difficult to be foreign. To be different. Barnes and I had even gone the wrong foot at that time,” he said. Your brows shot up, and he waved a dismissive hand, wincing at the memory. “That is another story. But it was why Mr. Coulson put me under Natasha’s care, which then led me to the rest of the group.”

Now on the third floor, you wiped the sweat off your forehead and gulped the air a few times, but tried to keep it under control while walking forward. T’Challa looked like he hadn’t even climbed those stairs. “Did it help?” you asked. “Made you feel less … out there?”

He pressed his lips together, eyes looking out the windows you were passing. “You’ve seen how I am. I can very much handle being alone and doing things alone,” he said. “But our lunch periods together – it grew to be one of my most awaited parts of the day.”

You looked at him, one edge of your lips tilted up. “And you’re sure it’s not because of the food?”

His laughter resounded in the hallway dotted with dawdling students, but he shook his head. “My homeland is more than thousands of miles away,” he said, stopping in his tracks to face you. “They are the closest I have ever felt to it.”

You blinked. Wow.

Riiiiiing!

The bell sliced through the dawning reflection of your moment, as students rushed up the stairs, dashed into their classrooms. You looked around, found an open door behind you. Physics, it said on its front. Oh, that was fast.

“All you have to do is give them a chance,” he said. You looked back up to him, and he gave you a soft smile. “Let’s hope to see you more often.” He bowed his head as a farewell, before spinning around and disappearing behind the classroom door across yours. For a few beats, you stared at where his figure once was, shell-shocked, but upon the clearing of throat of your teacher behind you, you turned around and stepped inside.

This was going to kill you. You stared at the numbers in your textbook, the equations and the blank spaces where your solutions were supposed to be, then glanced over to the notes you wrote from your teacher’s lecture earlier on. The numbers and letters were jumbling in your head, bouncing in it like several cents in an otherwise empty coin bank. You pressed two fingers on your temple, felt it throb like a drum ready to split apart. Ugh.

Throwing your pen down, your leg bounced and fingers rapped against your knee as you spun your chair to face your bed, gaze falling on the alarm clock on the table beside it. 7:28PM. You grabbed your phone from the desk, unlocked it. No messages from Natasha. The party must be halfway through already.

But you shouldn’t be thinking about that. No, no, no. Focus on something else, something more productive – you glanced at your textbook, groaned, nope – or something fun, for you, at least. Your gaze swept across the room, on the bookshelf at the corner or the laptop set aside on your desk. Read something, watch something –

Something growled, low and painful. You looked down at your stomach, placed a comforting hand on it. Eat something, you supposed. Shoving your phone in your pocket and pushing yourself off your seat, you made your way towards the door and once out in the hall, shut it behind you with a soft click.

“–a break?”

“I forgot my laptop here. Have to work on some files …”

Your stomach dropped. They’re in the same room.

“C’mon, love,” your father said. Clang, clang, ceramic plates hitting smooth wood. They’re in the kitchen. “It wouldn’t hurt to eat with your family, for once.”

A digital clock hung above the bathroom door, with bright, neon numbers blinking in the dim end of the hall. 7:31PM. Why was your mother here this early?

“The files need to be done by tomorrow,” your mother said. “My boss’s going to check on our sales this month–”

“I’m sure your boss wouldn’t mind if you ate with us–”

“My family wouldn’t be eating if I wasn’t working.”

Snap. Like wood in cackling fire, licking its bark and swallowing it up without chewing. It burst, ablaze in the sky – crack, cackle, crack. You could feel the heat from here, and knew nothing can extinguish this flame, once ignited. Not even if you stepped in with the hose of a firefighter. You’ve done it before. It only got worse.

“Love …” You could hear it; your father’s patience reigned in tight in his tone.

Click, click, click. Impatient heels on floorboards. “Do you not know how important this is?” your mother said.

“It’s just dinner with–”

“Who? Us?” she said, mentioning that you were probably studying upstairs. “We’re not even complete.”

“Does that matter?”

The silence was taut. Like a thin string wrapped around you neck, choking the air out of you. You knew you weren’t the only one feeling it.

“You don’t want to eat with me,” your father said. It was weak, a few breaths escaping the grip of the string around his neck.

Her sigh was soft, almost shaky. “I have to work.”

“Am I–” he gasped, like taking in air after swallowing. “Am I doing something wrong, or–?”

“I have a job to do.”

Go. You have to go. The air was too thick, like smoke was being stuffed into your lungs. You don’t need to hear this. You shouldn’t –

“I’ll be in my study.” Bam.

The sound bounced, reverberated in the entire house. Trembling walls, and maybe piercing hearts. All of your insides felt deflated, and your lungs were still expanding from all the smoke, and why was it so hard to breathe –

You have to get out of here.

Bounding down the stairs, you paused at the landing, and stared at your father. Shoulders slumped and knuckles white, he gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and stared down the sink. Red-rimmed eyes widened at your entry into the room – smelling smoky and salty from the grilled fish and buttered peas and beans – like a bubble’s been popped in his head.

“Hey,” he said, the corner of his lips twitching up. His eyes darted to the right, to the hall behind the staircase, to the study room. Clearing his throat, he straightened himself, running a hand through his hair. “So, uh–” he looked around, remembered the fish on the counter. “Dinner’s ready. Just grab some forks and knives, and–”

You knew it. He wasn’t even going to acknowledge that you may have heard all of that. Again. More smoke stuffed in your chest, as you shook her head and turned away. Zipping on your boots and throwing on a coat, you made sure to keep your eyes away from him. “Gotta meet a friend,” you said over your shoulder.

“Call me–” your father called out, but you were already past the door.

Outside, the freezing night air was a huge relief, compared to the stifling one in your house. You made sure to not look back at it, lest your father was watching you go and suspected you were only out to avoid them again. Your heart squeezed at the thought of your parents. And they said the new environment will help. Yeah, right. It was helping nobody, as usual. When were they ever going to see that moving around the country, looking for the perfect town to live in, was going to solve not a single problem, but your mother’s enslaving job?

You breathed out a sigh, then shivered as a breeze blew by. Looking up, you scanned your surroundings, and found yourself in the middle of – well, nowhere. Standing by the side of a silent road, towering trees reached out to the night sky, dark as a blue bruise, blocking any view of the world out there. You looked ahead; knew that way would lead to the main town, while behind you led back to the residence area – and you’d rather go to hell than go back to your house.

So, where were you going now?

Gotta meet a friend, you had told your father. You groaned. Really? you thought to yourself, as you brought out your phone, and scanned your list of contacts – which wasn’t much, after you had deleted the numbers of your past “friends.” Your gaze fell on Natasha’s number.

You really gonna do this? you thought, pressing it. Pacing by the sidewalk, you waited with the ringing phone on your ear. Maybe she didn’t go after all, maybe she’s just at home, working on her report with T’Challa. Maybe –

“I’m sorry, the number you dialed is currently not available –” You ended the call, jaw clenched. Well, she can’t be at home with a dead phone. Your gaze fell on the next contact. The Futurist.

Your grip on the phone tightened. Had there been another choice, you wouldn’t be doing this – and with no cash and nowhere else to go to, there was none indeed. One hour, you thought. You’ll stay there for an hour – without talking or drinking much – just until the storm passed. Nothing more.

You pressed call.

Part #4: coin.

A/N: Sorry, no party yet, bc it was getting too long, lol. I dunno if you guys noticed, but on average, each part has around 3k words. I know, I’m wordy, HAHAHA. I like T’Challa so much omg, he is such a cool guy. Made him less stoic here, bc he’s already warmed up to the Avengers gang, ehehe. Anyway, next part will really be the party, I promise!

Let me know your thoughts once again, especially about that family, whoa. No wonder you’re so closed up, huh? Thanks so much!

Tagging: (If you want to be tagged in the next part, let me know!) @addictivewriter @do-you-mind-if-i-slytherin1 @hairdye-enthusiast @taxesareallthatsurroundus

[plainofshinarquotes]

John Parker Lawson, A Cyclopedia of Biblical Geography, 1866

Page 327: It appears that this colony, when they reached the plain of Shinar, or Sennaar, invited by its beauty and fertility, intended to settle there, which was in actual disobedience of the Divine command to replenish the earth. Josephus affirms that Nimrod, the "mighty hunter," was the leader of this migration, which is certainly sanctioned by the inspired historian, who says that the beginning of his kingdom was Babel, or more properly Babylon, "in the land of Shinar," Genesis 10:10, implying that he founded the city of Babylon. The inspired historian thus narrates the beginning of this remarkable enterprise: —After they resolved to settle in the plain of Shinar, they said one to another, "Go to, let us make brick, and burn them throughly; and they had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar." In the low and fertile plain of Shinar no stone could be found, and hence Herodotus, Justin, and other ancient writers, describe the walls of Babylon as built of burnt bricks. Assyria abounds with the cement or slime which they used for mortar, probably bitumen, both in a liquid and solid state. Having thus prepared themselves, they soon developed their intention, which was to build an immense and lofty tower. "And they said, Go to, let us build us a city, and a tower whose top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth," Genesis 11:4.

Page 332: The inspired historian informs us, that the beginning of Nimrod's kingdom was "Babel and Erech and Accad and Calneh, in the land of Shinar." These were certainly Nimrod's principal towns. As the greatest kingdoms in those times seldom consisted of more than a single town and the surrounding district, we may reasonably conclude that Nimrod's kingdom was comprehended within very narrow limits at its commencement, and that those most ancient cities must have been at no great distance from each other. Babel, no doubt, was the original of Babylon; and Accad is generally admitted to be the Sittace of the Greeks, and the Akkerkoof of modern times. It is situated about nine miles west from the Tigris, at a place where that river makes its nearest approach to the Euphrates; and its subsequent names of Sittace and Akkerkoof, both of which contain elements of the name Accad, seem to identify it with its original. Here stands the monument called by the Arabs, Tel Nimrood, and by the Turks Nimrood-Tepassé, both of which appellations signify the hill of Nimrod. It consists of a large mound surmounted by a mass of building which resembles a tower at a distance, or an irregular pyramid, according to the point from which it is viewed. This mass is three hundred feet in circumference at the bottom, and rises upwards of one hundred and twenty-five feet above the elevated mound on which it stands; and the mound which constitutes the foundation of this structure, is, like most of the ruins of Babylon, supposed to be rubbish formed by the decay of the superstructure. The different layers of sun-dried bricks, of which this tower is composed, can be distinctly traced, cemented together by lime or bitumen, and divided into courses varying from twelve to twenty feet in height. The solid and lofty appearance of this pile renders it probable that it was one of those immense edifices erected for the worship of the heavenly bodies, built more or less after the model of the great tower of Babel. The worship of the heavenly bodies originated in the country in which this pile exists, and buildings of this description appear to have been common in the primitive cities of the plain of Shinar. The Tel Nimrood, therefore, probably indicates the site of Accad, or some other ancient town; but it has no pretensions to be considered, as some travellers allege it to be, the tower of Babel, or the temple of Belus. The following is a view of the Tel Nimrood.

Page 479: CALNEH, kal'nee. a city built by Nimrod in the plain of Shinar, and the last mentioned as belonging to his kingdom, Gen. 10:10. It is supposed to be the Calno of Isaiah 10:9, and the Canneh of Ezekiel 27:23. These prophets join it with Haran, Eden, Assyria, and Chilmad, which traded with Tyre; and hence it is inferred that it was situated in Mesopotamia. The site of this city, it is now generally admitted, was that afterwards occupied by the great city of Ctesiphon, the winter residence of the Persian and Parthian monarchs, situated upon the eastern bank of the Tigris, and about eighteen miles below Bagdad. Opposite to and distant three miles from it stood Seleucia, built by Seleucus, who ruined Babylon by this undertaking. After the lapse of some centuries, Ctesiphon, which had been previously in existence as a small town, began to assume importance as a rival to Seleucia, and it latterly became a magnificent city. Seleucia at length fell before the ascendency of Ctesiphon and the Parthians, the implacable enemies of the Greeks, and became a sort of suburb to its rival under the name of Coche. Both were identified by the Arabs under the name of Al-Modain, or the Cities. Ctesiphon was taken by the Arabs, A.D. 637, and from that period it rapidly declined, its ruins furnishing materials for the city of Bagdad.

Page 527: CHALDEA, kal-de'-a, a country often spoken of as identical with Babylonia or the plain of Shinar; but tbe country of Chaldea in its limited extent lay south of Babylonia, the whole of which is described under that head. Its right name is not Chaldea, as it was called by the Greeks and Romans and is translated in our Bibles, Jeremiah 1:10, 51:24, 35, Ezek. 16:29, 23:16, but Chasdia and Chusdia, as it is written in the Hebrew text; and the inhabitants were termed Chasdim and Chusdim or the children of Cush, the son of Ham and grandson of Noah. Various opinions, however, have been maintained by the learned respecting the origin of the Chaldeans. Michaelis considers them to have been a foreign race in Assyria, and is inclined to derive them from the Chalybes of the Greek geographers, who are called Chaldi by Stephen Byzantium. His chief reason for this opinion is founded on the names of the Chaldean or Babylonian kings, preserved in Scripture, and also mentioned by Ptolemy, which differ from the Assyrian names, and bear an apparent resemblance to those of some northern nations of Slavonic origin. On the other hand, Adelung contends that all these names are resolvable Into the Hebrew or its cognate dialects, and he considers the Chaldeans or Chasdim as a mountaineer people from the north of Mesopotamia, but belonging to the Assyrian or Semitic race. One thing at least is certain, that the Chaldeans and Babylonians are generally mentioned as the same people, from which we may infer that they were of the same origin; and when they came to reside in the same country there could be no difference between them. There were nevertheless some tribes who were eminently distinguished by the name of Chaldeans. These were celebrated for philosophy and divination, from whom emanated the magi, the aruspices, and the soothsayers, from whom and from the Egyptians, according to Strabo, the learning of Greece was derived; but how the term Chaldeans, which originally belonged to a people, became limited to a priesthood, can never be satisfactorily ascertained.

Page 528: Yet all these, according to Strabo and other ancient writers, were applied to establish the credit of judicial astrology, by which those called the Chaldeans, of whom we read in the book of Daniel, or the college of the magi, maintained their authority and influence in the state. They employed their pretended skill in calculating nativities, in foretelling the weather, predicting good and bad fortune, and other practices of a similar nature. The Chaldean priesthood was not strictly hereditary, for we find, in the case of the prophet Daniel and his companions, that even foreigners might be admitted into it, if fitted for it by early education. At their head was the master of the magicians, whose influence was considerable, if the statement of Josephus is correct, that upon the death of the father of Nebuchadnezzar, which took place when that prince was absent on a military expedition, the high magician administered the affairs of the kingdom until his arrival. They were divided into the several classes of interpreters of dreams, astronomers, and soothsayers. If they had any sacred writings they would be the expounders of them to the initiated. They did not confine their residence to Babylon, but resided in various places throughout the plain of Shinar. Their character was similar to that of the Persian magi, with whom they are often confounded by the Greek historians. The influence they possessed was undoubtedly founded on their pretensions to knowledge; yet their power appears never to have been so great at Babylon as it was in the Persian court, if we are to judge of the manner in which they were treated by Nebuchadnezzar, who threatened them with the most summary vengeance if they did not recall to his recollection the dream which he had forgotten, and explain it to his satisfaction.

[dailybiblelessons]

Saturday: Preparation for the Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

This week's blog post is here. It has information about apocalypses and summaries and links for the week ahead.

More information about the complementary and semi-continuous series is here: Which Series?

Complementary Hebrew Scripture from The Writings: Daniel 4:28-37

All this came upon King Nebuchadnezzar. At the end of twelve months he was walking on the roof of the royal palace of Babylon, and the king said, “Is this not magnificent Babylon, which I have built as a royal capital by my mighty power and for my glorious majesty?” While the words were still in the king's mouth, a voice came from heaven: “O King Nebuchadnezzar, to you it is declared: The kingdom has departed from you! You shall be driven away from human society, and your dwelling shall be with the animals of the field. You shall be made to eat grass like oxen, and seven times shall pass over you, until you have learned that the Most High has sovereignty over the kingdom of mortals and gives it to whom he will.” Immediately the sentence was fulfilled against Nebuchadnezzar. He was driven away from human society, ate grass like oxen, and his body was bathed with the dew of heaven, until his hair grew as long as eagles' feathers and his nails became like birds' claws.

When that period was over, I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me.

I blessed the Most High,  and praised and honored the one who lives forever. For his sovereignty is an everlasting sovereignty,  and his kingdom endures from generation to generation. All the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing,  and he does what he wills with the host of heaven  and the inhabitants of the earth. There is no one who can stay his hand  or say to him, “What are you doing?”

At that time my reason returned to me; and my majesty and splendor were restored to me for the glory of my kingdom. My counselors and my lords sought me out, I was reestablished over my kingdom, and still more greatness was added to me. Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and honor the King of heaven,

for all his works are truth,  and his ways are justice; and he is able to bring low  those who walk in pride.

Semi-continuous Hebrew Scripture from The Former Prophets: 1 Samuel 3:1-18

Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down. The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. For I have told him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them. Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli's house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering forever.”

Samuel lay there until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” He said, “Here I am.” Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.” So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. Then he said, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

Complementary Psalm 16

Protect me, O God, for in you I take refuge. I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;  I have no good apart from you.”

As for the holy ones in the land, they are the noble,  in whom is all my delight.

Those who choose another god multiply their sorrows;  their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out  or take their names upon my lips.

The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;  you hold my lot. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;  I have a goodly heritage.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;  in the night also my heart instructs me.

I keep the Lord always before me;  because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices;  my body also rests secure. For you do not give me up to Sheol,  or let your faithful one see the Pit. You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy;  in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.¹

¹Peter uses these verses in his address on the Day of Pentecost, in Acts 2:25-38. Beginning with “For you do not” Paul uses these verses when he preaches at Pisidian Antioch in Acts 13:13-43.

Semi-continuous Canticle: 1 Samuel 2:1-10

Hannah prayed and said,

“My heart exults in the Lord;  my strength is exalted in my God.¹ My mouth derides my enemies,  because I rejoice in my victory.

“There is no Holy One like the Lord,  no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God. Talk no more so very proudly,  let not arrogance come from your mouth; for the Lord is a God of knowledge,  and by him actions are weighed. The bows of the mighty are broken,  but the feeble gird on strength.

Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,  but those who were hungry are fat with spoil. The barren has borne seven,  but she who has many children is forlorn. The Lord kills and brings to life;  he brings down to Sheol and raises up. The Lord makes poor and makes rich;  he brings low, he also exalts. He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap,  to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's,  and on them he has set the world.

“He will guard the feet of his faithful ones,  but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness; for not by might does one prevail. The Lord! His adversaries shall be shattered;  the Most High will thunder in heaven. The Lord will judge the ends of the earth;  he will give strength to his king, and exalt the power of his anointed.”

¹Mary uses the same idea in her song of praise, which we call The Magnificat, recorded at Luke 1:46-55.

New Testament Gospel Lesson: Mark 12:1-12

There are parallel passages at Matthew 21:33-46 and Luke 20:9-19.

Then he began to speak to them [the chief priests, the elders, and the scribes] in parables. “A man planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a pit for the wine press, and built a watchtower; then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the season came, he sent a slave to the tenants to collect from them his share of the produce of the vineyard. But they seized him, and beat him, and sent him away empty-handed. And again he sent another slave to them; this one they beat over the head and insulted. Then he sent another, and that one they killed. And so it was with many others; some they beat, and others they killed. He had still one other, a beloved son. Finally he sent him to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But those tenants said to one another, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours.’ So they seized him, killed him, and threw him out of the vineyard. What then will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others. Have you not read this scripture:

‘The stone that the builders rejected  has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord's doing,  and it is amazing in our eyes’?”¹

When they realized that he had told this parable against them, they wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowd. So they left him and went away.

¹Psalm 118:22-23

Year B Ordinary 33 Saturday

Selections from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings copyright © 1995 by the Consultation on Common Texts. Unless otherwise indicated, Bible text is from Holy Bible New Revised Standard Version with the Apocryphal / Deuterocanonical Books (NRSV) copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All right reserved. Parallel passages are as indicated in Modern English Version (MEV), copyright © 2014 by Military Bible Association. Used by permission. All rights reserved. When text is taken from the MEV, the passage ends with (MEV) and the foregoing copyright notice applies. Footnotes in the Christian Scriptures that show where a passage from the Hebrew Scripture is used are from The The Holy Bible: New International Version ® (NIV®), copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. When text is taken from the NIV, the passage ends with (NIV) and the foregoing copyright notice applies.

Note: The links in the titles above take you to Amazon, where you can purchase them and benefit The Lectionary Company. Image credit: Parable of the husbandmen. Book miniature. 11th c., via Iconography of Passion Week. This is a public domain image.