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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 63]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Let’s do some of this tonight.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since they’d discussed making menus for him him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil would mark the little box on the card corresponding to his opinion. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day. Yet, putting toppings on it like cinnamon and sugar and different fruits had increased its rating easily.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though. What do you want to do?”

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught the language to myself in order to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said when they entered. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.”

Virgil could tell just by listening closely for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile. “Now, I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down below with his eyes trained on the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures, it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walked directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed briefly before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

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Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

“Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

“It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

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“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

#proofread stories #not writing

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

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The Pretender Next Door Part 2 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Warning: Swearing. Summary: Lying is despicable, but nothing beats the humiliation of pretending you have a lovely boyfriend when, in fact, you have none. Could your handsome neighbor help you, though? Words: 2138. Part 1 _____________________________________ It went better you thought it would. Your colleagues were mostly friendly and open, your work environment seemed both interesting and challenging enough, and living in the new apartment was comfortable and pretty peaceful. Well, that man from the 5th floor was singing songs from Bridget Jones Diary on Friday mornings really loudly, but you were an early bird, so you didn’t care, truly. You hadn’t seen Steve much, though it was more an advantage rather than not. He wasn’t bringing any girls into his apartment, and it really bothered you. Worse, he wasn’t bringing any boys either. Your last hope was that Steve belonged to some kind of swingers club or something and had orgies in a different place.

Swingers club? Damn, girl. This man was making you crazy.

You did your best to forget about that perfection of a man living next door. You needed to build your life from scratch in this mad city of New York, and having relationships now was not on your list. In fact, it had never been.

One busy month had already passed when you got a chance to talk to Steve again. You were stepping inside the elevator, tired after work. Next week you were organizing a big holiday party for employees, and things were going more and more stressful with each day. It turned out that way more people had allergies they didn’t state previously, most of them new employees like you, and you had to adjust the menu; then that band your VP of Marketing wanted to have suddenly asked more money than you discussed before, and…

Well, event planning was always like that. Why complaining now when you spend all those years in college and then decided to move to NY? It was predictable. What was unpredictable was you lying to your married colleagues that you had a boyfriend. Why on Earth did you say that? Yes, it was a bit embarrassing to be the only woman who wasn’t in a relationship, but did you ultimately have to lie about it? It was so stupid and childish. Surely, there were more than one single woman in New York.

Anyway, you had a bottle of white wine and Netflix movies waiting for you at home. You would deal with everything else later, including your imaginary boyfriend.

“Wait, please!”

You snapped out of your thoughts and immediately pressed a button to leave the doors open, and the next second Steve almost flew inside the elevator. Oh, was he just in front of you and you hadn’t seen him again? Seriously, you needed to put yourself together.

“Hello.” You smiled a bit shyly and pressed another button to get the elevator moving.

He looked as handsome as always in his dark blue jacket and… oh God, he could wear nothing at all and still looked like a prince. No clothes at all would be far more preferable…

“Hello.” His glowing smile made it hard to keep your eyes off his face.

Nonono, just stop staring and keep your eyes down. You had enough things on your plate already, there was no place left for a giant sun named Steve Rogers who would indeed burn you to ashes the same second you decide to come closer.

“So, are we going the same floor?” He suddenly asked. Wait, did he forget you literally lived next door?

“Um, yes.”

Steve scratched the back of his head; for a few seconds he seemed lost in thought. You decided to drop it. Maybe he had a bad memory or something.

“Oh, I get it, you probably visiting my new neighbor.” He just grinned through those perfectly white teeth.

What? Did he already forget he spent at least half an hour in your hallway repairing your bookshelf? Just how bad was his memory if he didn’t recognize your face, for God’s sake? Well, anyway, if you wanted him to have a flaw, you had to be happy he got one. Better than being a secret swinger, wasn’t it?

“Actually, I am your new neighbor.” You let out an awkward laugh and stared at your pretty kitten heels shoes you bought before leaving Key West. Why were you upset? You just thought about not getting into relationship with anyone. Besides, you doubted you had a chance to date Steve Rogers even if New York’s female population would be five times smaller its actual size.

Lost in your thoughts again, you missed his immediate change of expression, his face completely red with embarrassment and shame.

“God, I’m an idiot with a fish’s memory span.” He groaned and looked somewhere up, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. “I’m so sorry! I mean, of course I remember you, Y/N, it just, ugh, you know… you just look a bit different and… Jesus Christ, I’m gonna say something stupid again, aren’t I?.. Just, ugh, sorry.”

With the guilt all over his pretty face he reminded you of a puppy who ate someone’s shoe, and you chuckled. It wasn’t as bad as you though, he still remembered your name. It was true you were different comparing to the day he met you – you were wearing way more makeup, including bright lipstick, to look older for your colleagues who were in their 40s and 50s. You also had a nice New Look black dress, and your hair were curled. Although you did not expect to look so different to others, maybe Steve simply didn’t take a closer look at your face that time?

And you could still take it as his flaw. Not bad enough, but still something!

“Don’t worry, you only saw me two times in your life.” You laughed it off and stepped out of the elevator once the doors were open. “Now if you see here a grumpy old woman with Ikea bags please remember the way I looked today.”

Steve followed you into a narrow corridor and burst out laughing, his face slowly losing its funny redness. You suspected he still felt kind of guilty, but he tried to keep it cool when you bid him goodbye and entered your apartment.

Thinking of any other possible flaws he might have, you took off your shoes and threw you bag on the comfy grey sofa in the middle of the room. You were finally home. Now you could change into your favorite blue pyjamas and fluffy slippers, take off your makeup and have some good time watching your favorite romcoms. Although you didn’t have anything for dinner, you could easily order something like a nice pizza or lasagna from that family-owned pizzeria around the corner.

The next hour you spent in a tub, washing away your worries. One was still there though: what were you supposed to do with your imaginary boyfriend? Your biggest issue was that your colleagues asked you to bring him to the party. Of course, they thought it was a nice gesture since they often brought their own husbands and boyfriends, but now they just made your life way more difficult. Even if you could say your boyfriend got sick or something at the day of the event, what then? Thankfully, no one demanded to see your photos yet, but they could. And they might ask you to bring him to dinners they had altogether sometimes, and God knows what else.

You were stupid enough to make up some super romantic story about a perfect guy any girl would like to date. It was embarrassing to think of it now, but you definitely got affected by the marriage stories of your colleagues who spent the whole lunch hour talking about their lovely husbands. Your problem was you tried to fit in too much.

Well, you probably had to come up with something about breaking up once you moved to NY. Funny, because your “boyfriend” was living here and waiting for you for a year to come over and transform your long-distance relationships into something bigger. Hell, you even said you might marry him. Why were you so careless? Why did your colleagues’ opinions matter so much?

You sighed, putting on an old black hoodie. You were hopeless.

Then you heard the doorbell rang and frowned. You were not expecting anyone since you didn’t order your pizza yet.

You hurried to the door in your slippers and put your hair into a ponytail on the way. It was around 8 pm. Who could it be? Did someone just mistake your apartment for someone’s else? You knew your aunt wasn’t coming without telling you first, and no one else knew where you moved to.

But you opened the door, and you found glowing Steve there with a plate in his hands. You were so stunned you just kept standing there until you heard him snicker. Wait, what? Steve? Did he need to borrow anything? Why was he here?

“H-hi Steve. Please, come in.” You stepped back awkwardly to let him go inside and saw him smiling even wider once he spotted your fluffy blue slippers. Could it get even more humiliating than that?

“Hi there. I’ve actually come to apologize properly for the… well, you know.” He almost looked like he was blushing a bit. “And I brought you a lemon pie. Although I baked it myself, I swear it’s not poisonous!”

Great, your absolutely perfect blue-eyed neighbor with blond hair and a winning smile was so nice he brought you a homemade pie. Girl, you were losing it. Maybe he was a serial killer instead of a swinger? It would make sense, indeed. Maybe it wasn’t wise touching this pie? Damn, you hoped he tried to kill you instead of just being nice, because Steve was clearly out of this world.

“I mean… not like baked it the way my mother did… more like googling an easy recipe online and putting everything I found into an instant pot…”

You were ready to slap yourself when you saw Steve fidgeting nervously in the hallway. You had to keep your lovely neighbor out of your mind.

“Thank you so much.” Taking the plate from his huge warm hands you felt your body temperature rising. “But you didn’t have to do that. There’s nothing to be sorry about!”

“No, I was being stupid and…”

“Well, whatever. Just come here and share this pie with me so I can check if it’s poisonous or not.” You tried your best to make a joke out of it and laughed, nodding towards the kitchen. “I can make either tea or coffee. What would you prefer? Um, if you’d like to stay, of course.”

“Only if you don’t mind the guy who couldn’t recognise his own neighbor.”

You spent the next hour chatting about anything and everything. Even though you had never been talkative with people you barely knew, Steve had seemed so trustworthy and friendly you were not able to stop. He talked a lot too, telling you more about himself, claiming he was “just a kid from Brooklyn.” He didn’t finish his university degree because of some financial issues and was now working in an auto repair shop. He still wanted to return to engineering, though, but the only jobs he was offered were some unpaid internships and things like that. And he also played guitar. And he had just finished renovating his own apartment.

The only flaw you found was his issue with keeping the rooms clean as he was overly impressed with your place and how tidy it was. Well, it was something.

Then you had somehow told him about your work, new company, colleagues, the event, and… and that imaginary boyfriend of yours. When you realized you complained about your silly lies, it was already late. Steve was biting his lips not to laugh. Oh, great. Now he was thinking how pitiful you were, pretending to have someone in order to gain some respect from your new coworkers. What kind of girl would say these things to a man like him? You were clearly out of your mind. The only good thing about it was that Steve would probably walk out of your apartment and never come back again.

“Please don’t think I’m laughing at you. It’s… a bit funny, I mean, that you think there’s nothing you could do with your issue.” He grinned at you, almost pouting like a little baby. “Think of it, you just need to ask some guy you know to pretend he’s your boyfriend. Ask him to come with you to this holiday event, and then some time later you can say you broke up with him.”

For a minute you fell silent, staring at the guy in front of you with wide eyes.

“Wait, but I don’t know anyone here. I can’t merely go to anyone on the street and ask him to do this for me, right?”

“Well, for starters, you know me.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve x reader #romcom au #captain america

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thechampagnelovers · 4 years ago

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First of all: YOU DID A HEADTSAND!!! Congrats I am so excited actually!

I can‘t picture them with red white and blue, I need to google that asgjdkfld.

Okay that actually sounds so cool! I think you explained it quite well actually. I need to try to find the translation for my country and then look into that. It also seems like you have so many different courses condensed under your study? Like writing courses and anthropoly? That is actually so sick! I get why you love studying that. And I am sure you‘ll be right back on track as soon as you can attend uni again.

Okay I am a little tired of saying this but same haha. I am trying everything at this point. I do have to admit I can shy away from very heavy romance because it tires me out sometimes but I am open to everything. Right now I am reading Red, White and Royal Blue, which is also romantic but it seems to be so much more. The reviews were good and I liked the blurb so I bought and I like it so far. Have you read that? But before I read a thriller so the scale is very very broad. What was your favourite book of 2020? And I would LOVE for you to reccomend some latinamerican literature. Hm, well maybe I‘d struggle with the language? Didn‘t think of that obstacle, but I am always interested in finding new stuff and I have definitely not read anything like that before... Did you go and buy books? I think I take fanfiction very lightly. I don‘t think there is anything I wouldn‘t read just because it is a certain ship. So I am really bad at giving boundaries there. I‘ll snoop through your tags if you ever tagged some fics you liked but you can always drop your favourites for me!

Thank you for your kind words. I‘ll need to copy and save those for when I get overwhelmed and need a reminder!

And lastly that comment about the timezones made me laugh so hard. It doesn’t really make sense to me either. I have to google them always and I always forget what they mean and have to re-google. But I think I can remember that. Or I can just guess and see when you answer haha. I hope you had a good breakfast (and lunch and dinner since it‘s already like 7 or 8, correct?) and a good day! x

P.s oh my god I just all the stuff around the number and Zayn too before I decided to compose this ask and pleeease how cute is he and how good do the snippets sound?? Already claiming 4 and 5 haha

thank you jsdfjdshkj i’m so happy i did it! it always feels sooooo good, feeling the energy flowing from your body, it’s so cool.

bro crocs looks so ugly in pics jdjks i swear they’re cuter irl, with a nice pair of jean shorts and a cute shirt or a hoodie

ohhh i want to read red white and royal blue for soooo long now, but books are stupid expensive here, so i always go for second hand books and it’s probably going to be a while until i find it in the second hand book store :/ but i’ve been meaning to read it for so long. my taste is so broad too lmao. i struggled reading so much in 2020 :/ i only read a few books before the pandemic began and just now i’m getting back to it. but one of my faves of 2020 is When God Was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman. and for latinamerican, i am a big Gabriel García Márquez fan, my fav is love in the time of the cholera, but they’re all amazing. i also really like Cortázar <3 Rayuela is just a masterpiece. and you have to read books by Isabel Allende, her most popular book is la casa de los espiritus but i haven’t had time to read it yet (although it’s on my bookshelf) but i recommend it anyways. ughh i know there are more, i wish i could remember rn, and there are many great latinamerican authors who i haven’t had the chance to read yet, but here you have a few to start. some from Colombia, Argentina and Chile <3

and yes, i got one book. i had to contain myself to not go back to my house and grab more money, so i only bought one: los invitados de la princesa by Fernando Savater, who’s another great author i recommend. i read Ética para Amador a few times in high school for literature and philosophy classes, so i’m intrigued to read more of him.

in my fic rec tag there’s mostly fics tagged in the tracksintheam tag, but i have to recommend all the works of my lovely friends @quelsentiment @chrysopon @harrystinyshorts and @rosesau! and i know there are more mutuals i’m forgetting sjkjskd sorry (you can also read my fics if you’re interested) there are mostly larry fics but emmanuelle and i have some of zouis, ziam and ziall too (becuase zayn is our muse). and my all time favourite fic is atlas at last ! i wish i had more but i’m so unorganize with my fics

lol you’re correct, its 8pm rn! it must be so late for you!! we haven’t had dinner yet, in argentina and generally in latam we had dinner around 9-10 pm, my grandma and stepdad are making chicken and it smells amazing

i haven’t heard the snippets yet bc i couldn’t call :( some people send me links but i havent had time to hear them yet, but i trust your taste and if you claim 4 and 5 then i’m claiming them too!

good night love <3

#beer nony #ask #personal

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angelofrainfrogs · 4 years ago

Text

A Recollection

Fandoms: The Bartimaeus Trilogy

Description: Upon finding a book about unexplained events in human history, Bartimaeus recalls one of the many times he and Faquarl were forced to work together towards a common goal.

Rating: K+

Genre: General/Humor

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28322109

Note: This fic is dedicated to rat man and was written for the 2020 Holiday Secret Santa in the Bartimaeus discord server. The request was to write something including Faquarl and as I was thinking of historical events to write about, the one included in this fic came to mind and wouldn't leave and, well... here's the result! Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

A Recollection

“So, Nat… any pressing tasks I need to take care of?” I asked, leaning on the corner of the boy’s desk and resting my chin on my palms, staring up at him with wide, imploring eyes. “Would you like a cup of tea? A shoulder massage, perhaps?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only response I got, Nathaniel’s eyes glued to the stack of papers in front of him.

“Maybe you’d like me to go fetch some fresh water from the Thames? I’m sure it only has a few hundred toxins that could kill you.”

Another grunt, this time accompanied with a vague hand gesture to go away. I sighed, annoyed.

“Or maybe, you’d like a kick in the—”

“Bartimaeus, will you shut up?!” Nathaniel snapped, finally acknowledging my existence for the first time that afternoon. “I don’t need anything right now; just go read a book or something and stop bothering me. I have a lot of paperwork to review about these recent Resistance attacks.”

“You know, you could always dismiss me if you have no need of me…,” I suggested, a hint of false hopefulness in my tone. I knew full well the boy would do no such thing, and the withering look he gave me proved as such.

“Ugh, just…” He paused, then pointed to a bookcase on the other side of his fairly large office. “I charge you to go read a book from that shelf over there.”

“Doesn’t work if I’m not in a pentacle,” I said smartly, but he merely rolled his eyes and went back to his work.

I sighed again, deciding to it not worth the effort of my waning essence to harass him anymore[1]. Instead, I walked to the other side of the room and looked at the decently-sized bookshelf, wondering what sort of texts a young member of the British government read in his nonexistent free time.

I pulled one out at random; the title read “Unexplained Phenomenon of the Americas” and had a grainy black and white picture of a forest with some unidentifiable, luminescent creature on the front cover. I opened it to a random page, curious to see what sort of things were in here that could easily be explained by magic. My eyes widened as they scanned the page.

“Unbelievable,” I murmured, reading the heading and date of the event. Instantly, my mind drifted back a few decades, remembering a time I’d been working with an all-too-familiar djinni…

***

“So… where exactly are we meant to be dropping this stuff off?” I asked, one beady vulture’s eye trained on my companion.

“We weren’t given a specific place; it’s up to us to make sure that whatever we do with this, it’s ‘untraceable.’” The other, slightly bulkier vulture[2] said, metaphorically rolling his black eyes. “Weren’t you listening to the instructions?”

“Eh… not really.” I attempted a shrug, a difficult gesture to do with wings, let alone ones that were currently being used to fly. “I was more interested in trying to figure out what in the world this stuff is…”

“It’s none of our concern, is it?” My cohort let out annoyed sigh. “Let’s just find a place to dump this and get back; the sooner we can be rid of this charge, the better. My essence is starting to ache.”

I hummed in affirmation and focused forward, scouring the ground for a perfect spot to release our mysterious packages.

As most would surely have guessed, we only appeared as vultures on the first plane. The packages we were carrying were a bit too bulky to conceal with magic without some complex maneuvers that, frankly, neither of us had the strength for.

Faquarl and I had been summoned together a few months ago, an unexpected surprise[3]. The magician was some shady man living in rural America during the 1870’s. He seemed a bit mad, honestly, but to our dismay had at least enough wits about him to perform a summons with all the correct seals to keep us from escaping our bonds. Thus, we were once again forced into servitude by the will of a human.

He had some sort of nasty hobby that I tried not to speculate about, but I never actually got to learn what it was[4]. Our main assignment was to constantly transfer mysterious packages to and from the man’s farmhouse in rural Kentucky. I hadn’t spent much time in the Americas and was curious to explore, but the constant travel was exhausting… not to mention the company I was forced to keep.

Faquarl and I had never gotten along at the best of times, but being the only two spirits around for miles and connected by the same magician forced us to spend much more time together than either of us would like.

“Can’t we just drop this and be done with it?” I asked, debating whether to just go ahead and let the mysterious package fall to the ground. I didn’t need Faquarl’s permission to do anything, of course, but our mutual charge meant it was best to be on at least somewhat of the same page[5].

“Just wait, Bartimaeus,” Faquarl snapped, and I could hear the snarl in his voice. I glared at him as best I could.

“I’m trying to suggest an easy solution, but you just don’t care what I think, do you?”

“No, not really.”

I gasped dramatically, affronted. “Well! Excuse me for trying to make our lives a little less difficult. You’ve always been so stubborn.”

“I’m stubborn?!” Faquarl barked a laugh. “Remember that time in Indonesia when you had to-”

“Hey, hey, we agreed never to bring that up again!”

“You agreed with yourself; I made no such promise.” The vulture’s face remained passive as stone, but I caught a glimpse of Faquarl’s snide grin on the 7th plane[6]. I grumbled something under my breath, and then a brilliant idea occurred to me. If Faquarl wouldn’t go along with my plan willingly, maybe there was a way to make him follow along unintentionally.

Still keeping partial focus on my wings to assure I stayed in flight, I skillfully reached into the sack hanging from my claws with a talon, took out a chunk of undistinguishable meat, and hurled it directly at the djinni beside me. It missed him by a mile[7], but the gesture had certainly been noticed.

“Oh, really? Now you’re going to throw a fit?” Again, Faquarl rolled his eyes on a higher plane. “How childish.”

“I’m not ‘throwing a fit,’” I retorted. “I’m trying to add some entertainment to this incredibly dull task.” I quickly grabbed another piece of meat and threw it, this time hitting Faquarl in the side. He squawked indignantly as I let out a gleeful laugh.

“Alright, two can play at this game!” he responded, and I managed to dodge as Faquarl lobbed a chunk of meat at me. It broke into two pieces as it fell to earth, and I jerked my beak towards them in a huff.

“No fair!” I exclaimed. “You can’t throw two at once!”

“I don’t recall there being any rules to this challenge.” I could hear the grin in his voice and suddenly a soft, wet sensation hit my right wing. I nearly lost my balance in the sky but managed to right myself just in time.

“Alright, that’s it!” I yelled, and thus the battle commenced.

I’d like to say it was a brilliant affair, full of wild tricks and subterfuge, but it was hard to do much when your only weapon was various chunks of mystery meat[8]. The fight lasted only a few minutes, stopping when we both realized that our sacks were empty. We glanced at the ground far below to see it littered with pinkish-grey dots. Some pieces had landed on and around a little house, outside of which a woman was currently standing with her husband and looking quite frazzled.

“Oh, now look what you’ve done…,” Faquarl groaned, surveying the damage. “Now we have to go clean all this up!”

“Do we?” I asked, and he trained a questioning beady eye upon me. “I mean, our charge was to dispose of the contents in the sacks, correct?”

“In an untraceable way, yes.”

“We’re miles away from our master; I doubt the humans would be able to trace this back to him. Besides-” Faquarl looked about to speak again, but I continued. “Have you been able to tell what this stuff actually is?”

“Well… no,” the djinni admitted reluctantly. I knew he always hated when I was right[9].

“Then do you really think mere humans will be able to distinguish it?”

“…Probably not.”

“Exactly!” I did a summersault in the air, one of the only flashy gestures I could make in my avian form. “So, technically, our charge has been complete.”

Faquarl remained silent for a few moments, desperately trying to think of how to prove me wrong. I did realize that my logic regarding the situation wasn’t rock-solid; I knew a particularly clever human could probably figure out the type of meat, and maybe enough investigation would eventually trace it back to the magician. Faquarl could easily bring these things up, but I knew he was just as tired as I was and presumably wanted go back to the Other Place equally as bad.

“…Fine,” he relented with a sigh. “We’ll go back and tell our master that our charge is complete. But if this comes back to bite us, you’re taking all the blame.”

I made an astonished noise as we simultaneously turned around and began flying back towards the magician’s house. “Now, now, you were a big part of that fight; you can’t go blaming me! I thought we were in an equal partnership here!”

“Only in your dreams are you in any way equivalent to me, Bartimaeus.” I heard the sneer in Faquarl’s voice and wished I’d saved one last piece of mystery meat for a surprise attack. As it was, I merely grumbled back something that I shall not be repeating here, then quickly sped up as my fellow djinni let out a screech of rage and dashed towards me.

A few days after we returned to our master’s house, we were dismissed. I bid Faquarl a not-so-friendly farewell and blissfully returned to the Other Place, not knowing when I’d see my unwilling compatriot again.

***

“What in the world are you smirking at over there?!” Nathaniel’s shrill voice cut violently into my reminiscing. I glanced at the boy to see him staring at me with a pinched expression on his face.

“Oh, just remembering the old days,” I said, sighing wistfully. “The days when I had masters who knew how to buy clothes that fit properly, and to wash their hair more than twice a year—you really ought to take a shower, though, Nat—and who—”

“Be silent, demon!” the boy hissed at me, and I placed a hand to my heart in mock horror.

“Goodness, someone’s in a bad mood today!”

“I’m trying to work and you’re over in the corner giggling and grinning like a maniac. If you can’t be silent, I’ll send you out on your rounds earlier than usual tonight.”

“Alright, alright,” I grumbled, not in the mood to go out into the dreary streets of London any sooner than was necessary. “For the next few hours, you won’t even know I’m here.”

“See to it that I don’t.”

I rolled my eyes as Nathaniel focused back on his papers. I closed the book in my hands, lingering over the cover for a few seconds before slipping it neatly back into its place on the shelf. Then, I flopped down on the rather uncomfortable couch and waited for night to fall, casting my mind back to my most recent encounter with Faquarl a few years prior and wondering what, if anything, the djinni was up to now.

***

[1] At the current moment, that is. I’d be back at it again by suppertime.[Return to text]

[2] Though he would never admit it, I knew the slightly more formidable appearance was an unnecessary but very deliberate attempt to ruffle my feathers. It didn’t work, of course.[Return to text]

[3] Yet surprisingly not unwelcome. Though we considered each other nemeses by this point in time, it had been so long since I’d seen a familiar face during a summons that it was a welcome relief to be around someone I knew, even if we did hate each other’s guts.[Return to text]

[4] I was quite happy about this, mind you; most humans are weird, but some are just plain depraved. I had a feeling this man fell squarely into the latter category.[Return to text]

[5] I don’t need permission from anyone to do as I please, but the threat of a magician’s crippling fire can be quite convincing at times.[Return to text]

[6] Though it was hard to tell exactly what expression his true form was wearing, what with all the writhing tentacles and other assorted bits.[Return to text]

[7] What can I say, I was out of practice. I hadn’t tried to physically fight Faquarl for decades, since the last time nearly ended with my ear being sliced off by a wayward kitchen knife.[Return to text]

[8] Although I did perform some particularly stellar acrobatics in midair in my attempts to dodge.[Return to text]

[9] I, however, rather enjoyed watching Faquarl fume when he was proven wrong.[Return to text]

Notes: The Kentucky meat shower was a real event that happened in on March 3, 1876. For a few minutes between the hours of 11 and 12 in the morning, what appeared to be chunks of red meat fell from the sky in a 100x50 yard (91x46 m) area near the settlement of Rankin in Bath County, Kentucky. There are several explanations as to how this occurred and what the "meat" was, the most popular being the vulture theory, in which a group of vultures regurgitated their meals; and the pieces fell to earth from a reasonable height. The exact type of meat was never identified, although various reports suggested it was beef, lamb, deer, bear, horse, or even human.

#fanfic #fanfiction #bartimaeus #the bartimaeus trilogy #the bartimaeus sequence #faquarl #nathaniel #the golemn's eye #flashbacks #based on real events #ao3 #phantomhivemast3r

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akkeyagentofhelheim · 4 years ago

Text

Before I Fall, Fall

It was quiet in the Library.

A clock ticked rhythmically in the lazy light of the morning. The constant whir of cog and wheel filled the air, punctuated by a hum and bend, phasing between Aidorinian styled bannisters, past crane carvings on the side of a bookshelf, and above a sandy blonde head hunched in front of a small shrine, tucked away in the corner. A single incense stick smoked from where it stood in its base as Juro sat in silence, his eyes closed and hands held together in prayer, glowing softly between blue and gold as he paid his respects to the Bookkeepers that disappeared several hours ago.

Virion gave a single croon as it landed on his good shoulder in worry. He opened his eyes to give the golem a scratch on the head, “I’m fine…” he assured it softly, carefully getting to his feet. He was still sore all over, accompanied by lethargy in his limbs from the massive output of magic he made. He carefully thumbed the torn fabric of his kimono on his shoulder, lamenting the loss of the garments, the blood already dried a while ago. He had yet to change.

"I was careless. I forgot she saw everything," he murmured as Akkey's interrogation replayed in his head. "You're attached to Yun Milae." He placed a slender gloved hand on the edge of a table, leaning his full weight against it, the other covering part of his face as he struggled, "I know that. That's the problem…"

One thought led to another as he spiraled through his memories, ones he wished to forget but couldn’t. Virion could only watch and extend its magic around its master in protection.

“You are nothing but a tool. A vessel for infinite power, destined to be alone. You can’t leave this place. There’s nothing, nobody out there for you. Don’t let her stories get into your head.” There was a scream of pain as a whip was brought down onto his handler. He saw nothing but white.

“Well… this was Jurou’s idea, but I can’t fault him for it, I understand where he’s coming from. We’re your family now. Our law is no help, no harm, and record what you see...” The Elder’s lopsided grin shone down on him. He smiled back in the same way, “But between you and me, I break that rule a bit. I like helping people even just a little, makes me feel more myself, more human. But don’t tell the others.” They laughed together.

He fought with his Mentor, “She’s bad news, I can feel it! Why won’t you listen? She’s nothing like you!” He didn’t see him for years after as the Mentor stubbornly searched for where the suspicious girl came from.

“This is all my fault,” His Mentor was crying, “I’m the one who dug around and set off their radar. You need to run, Jin. I won’t have you pay for what I did!” The Elder laid in his lap, dead. He had lost control again. Everyone was gone, it was just him and his Mentor left, cowering away from the Weapon as she pressed on with her duty to bring him back to Chuugo.

A flash of light on blade. A protecting arm flung over him. The sickening sound of sword through body, streaking blood over his face. The tip of the weapon nicking him along the jaw in the process. The Mentor heaving against the pain to keep her away from him, the blade slicing him again as bodies collided. Blood trailing in two lines down his neck as he was pushed towards nix portals, whose captured users were also escaping themselves.

“Don’t forget who you are, Little Crane.”

He ran.

A bell-like sound pinged from the flat device with the multiple buttons that he used frequently to read entries from the Modern timelines, interrupting his light speed thoughts, bringing him back to the present, “It’s like Jii-jii and Jurou-san decided to reincarnate in one goat body…” Juro couldn’t help but laugh. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Juro shook his head, stretching his long arms up and growling softly at the back of his throat as he returned his focus to the rest of his intended tasks, "Right. Catch up on entries…" He pulled scrolls and devices towards him, supporting his weight against the table, and got to work.

The minutes passed, slowly turning into hours, daylight sliding across books and dust and inkwells as it filtered through the windows of the Library, only the workings of machinery and the scratch of pen heard for a long time. It was a picture of peace, just like the old days.

Juro reached for another black, flat box, fingers flying over the buttons all over its surface. The face of the box lit up brightly, its blue-white glow shining softly on his cheekbones. Text appeared from the light, and his amber eyes swept across quickly as he read them.

"Nothing out of place for Dario. Out for the weekend with friends as always. He has a show next week."

Juro's lashes lowered. Jin's entry was right on time. They've been very regular as of late, particularly revolving around a certain seidkonur's partner, worrying and keeping an eye on him. The Worst Bookkeeper truly… he grinned to himself in reproach at the Modern Bookkeeper’s unabashed display of his affinity towards Yun and his life, but it wasn't a serious issue any longer, and more in amused surrender. After all, their neutrality was a choice--it was his that wasn’t. And it was exactly how he was reprimanded in his early Bookkeeper days as well.

His brow furrowed at the intrusive memory, gritting his teeth as he balled it up and threw it in the darkest corners of his mind as he always did. His fingers clicked away again on the buttons, and the light shifted into a different set of words.

Binate World. A fairly new thread that appeared only a month ago. It wouldn’t have garnered such attention from Juro if it weren’t for two things: the timing, and the nature of the timeline. And he might have an idea of why.

He didn’t have as deep an understanding of other universes as either Yun or Milae, but he could still tell what generally happened. Two threads twisted into one, spawning two bookkeepers housing the same soul. Juro skimmed the entries from the timeline, a small laugh escaping him. The bookkeepers were young, and the way they wrote reflected it, wonder and awe seeping into their words as they learned how to string their sentences together in neutrality. They were growing fast, their world a mix of magic and mundane. They were already 8.

But there was still the question of when it happened that metaphorically raised a brow more. First, the Battle of the Jaw kicked off way earlier than it was supposed to, bringing a seidkonur all the way to the opposite side of the multiverse. Then, within days, the unnatural thread was created, seemingly out of nowhere. There's outside forces affecting these, I'm certain… His eyes lowered even further as he stared blankly at the entries, thoughts turning in his head. Immense power surges. Twisting threads. Disappearing marionettes and souls of the Court. Weaving of time and stories.

Golden eyes and a creeping darkness.

"I can't think of anyone else but her. It must be Frigga…" Juro’s lips barely moved when he commented, his eyes going out of focus.

The sounds of the Library became muted, like a veil was hung in the dimension where it existed within the Golden thread. Light and shadows began to melt together through his vision, becoming more hazy and indecipherable. The pen in his hand was still. Stringy shadows streaked across his line of vision. The Library disappeared.

Juro found himself in a bottomless abyss peppered with stars, standing on nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. Across from him was a large, arch shaped shadow that hung from an unseen ceiling. He could barely make out the chains that wrapped around it, then shot outwards in millions of directions in a horrible scrape of metal sounds.

A small lonely figure stood in between him and the shadow, faced away from him, yet he knew who she was, with her light locks and bare feet.

“You’re a fucking mess, aren’t ya…”

Her voice bounced around in echoes, filling up the entire space, doubling, cycling, amplifying. Chains began straining against the dome, moving and pulling across space. She spoke again.

“All this power you sealed, uncontrolled, creating problems that you can just solve on your own if you would just accept it and learn… but you don’t want that, do ya?”

Several of the chains began to glow blue then gold, and his mouth opened in a voiceless scream at the sight, crying desperately for the light to stop, to keep the lines intact.

“You’re ashamed of who you were, and you want to erase yourself by locking it all up. You detach from anything that could cause you pain, and disguise it under neutrality. You’re addicted to this solitude. You want it. You need it.”

The child turned to face him finally, but her face was void of any features, a creepy mask of smooth skin and porcelain. Her movements were choppy, unarticulated, inhuman. Her cadence was different.

“You’re trapped, yet you have the key.”

It burst into a chaotic twist of dark lines and threads from behind her, tensing and pulling to its most extreme without snapping. The space around Juro flickered violently, the space phasing in and out of reach in two, three, four, five waves, threatening to rip at the seams, streaking past the girl and heading straight for him, wrapping itself around his limbs and torso and body and face in that familiar, terrifying way. His right side pulsed.

“So many new lines to trace, new stories to collect... and their words…. words are so important,” a different voice whispered in his ear, and his body seized, the sound crawling everywhere on his skin, the dialogue sounding familiar but incorrect, like they were spoken by the wrong lips. Light left his eyes as he stared blankly before him, unseeing. Another chain glowed with his colours.

“...fā vald ađ rifa örlagaröđina,” he replied to seemingly nobody, his voice a hollow sound.

”That’s right, darling,” the voice remained soft, “You know the importance of words and stories. Then maybe…”

It was inside his head now, “...maybe you can rewrite yours.”

The echoes of metal links and soft voices came to an abrupt stop.

Complete silence.

Darkness faded back into the Library as cog, wheel, and hum returned. The second hand of a clock ticked once more. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows again. Everything was still in place.

Juro was staring wordlessly before him, unaware, like there was no alarming bend of space that glimmered around him. With an accompanying sigh, his eyes slowly, finally came to a full close, lashes slipping over amber in one smooth motion. He fell sideways, his knees buckling and collapsing towards the ground until he hit something soft and feathery. His golem caught him in its wings with a worried caw, as his arm dropped to the side, pen rolling out of his fingers onto the wooden floor as he laid within his golem, unmoving.

Virion crooned again in concern, but relaxed when it realized that his breath was steady, “Sorry Vir… I’m… suddenly… really tired…” Juro could only mumble under his breath, sinking into the sea of blue and white.

He had fallen fast asleep.

It was quiet once more in the Library.

#before i fall fall #one shot #juro #eir #frigga

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

Text

Mount Everest Ain’t Got Shit On Us (Fezco x fem!reader, Part 14.)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like a scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: This is the last proper chapter before we move on to the ending, which should be separated into three to five chapters.

Warnings: Illegal actions, drug smuggling.

Word count: 3.7 K

Read the rest here, babe: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9 PART 10 PART 11 PART 12 PART 13

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Tagging: @charmed-asylum, @jeyramarie, @pantherxrogers, @analia-analia-analia

Since you are a small kid, they tell you that you will have to find work when you will grow up. You are prepared for that ’work’ since you’re a little kid. What had you thought? That they are making you visit the kindergarten because they want you to have fun? Only to find some friends that you can have all-life-lasting memories and friendships with? For you to have cute photos in costumes on your fridge?

If you did, then think again - the system prepares you to go to that work since you’re a small kid. Then, there’s an elementary school, high school, and college. Just to make you prepared. Just to make you work for the system.

Maybe you want to be a lawyer? No, you have to be smart for that - you’ll be a cashier for that. You want to be a police officer? Dear, you’re too fat for that - you can work as a cook, maybe? Yeah. That’s the fucked up society and system we are all a part of.

That’s how it works.

But soon, you learn that there are one or two ways how to fuck the system up, so you could bring some chaos to it. Black marketing, for example. White meat trafficking and prostitution. And, of course, the one we all know really well about - drug dealing.

And since your boyfriend and his small best friend were the biggest distributors for your small American suburb, you naturally came across that. You started to notice how it usually goes - they come on a party or onto the gas station and the hand each other the things so fast, that you don't even have the time to notice if you’re not paying attention.

Usually, it looks like a handshake between two people who haven’t seen each other in a long time - but one had the small package of, most likely, weed, coke or something like LSD and the second person has cash rolled in their hands. They shake hands - dealer handles the drug, takes the cash. Not a big deal.

Sometimes you even see small iron boxes around the city - Fezco took the money and left the material there. And to be honest, there was a shit load of them. Or just leave it on places which would never appeal to anyone as suspicious while the money was waiting for Fezco out there - dull books in a full bookshelf, an empty tube of pills, under a specified stone... These tactics were previously agreed by both sides and usually performed at parties when the two couldn’t meet from eyes to eyes.

But to be honest, the funniest for you was the pocket change, as Ash called it. It sounded less suspicious then. That was when the dealer and the other party met, but tried to be less suspicious - like on a street or something. The dealer came next to the buyer, shoved his hand up the buyer’s pants into one of the pockets which are previously specified to be ’the ONE’ and leaves the drug there while taking the money out.

Let’s just say that you were able to learn a lot of Fezco’s tactics. As time passed and you saw them more and more times, you were pretty sure that you could perform at least one of them on your own. And that how Ashtray thought as well.

"Hey, baby girl." - He grinned when you enter the shop and put his Snickers bar away to perform a handshake ended up with a fistbump with you. You just ended at school and immediately went to the shop to show Fezco an exam you totally nailed. He was excited for you because he never was as good in exams as you were and he was fucking proud of his baby girl. You were definitely a genius in your boyfriend's eyes.

"Baby girl? That's a new level for us, little kid." - You jumped onto the counter, so you sat there and wiggled your legs from side to side while chewing on gum.

"Heard it from his bedroom while ya weren't here. Bet his hands were occupied at that moment." - Ashtray grinned and snored while talking of that and this thought made you cringe like hell. Jerking off while thinking about you? Definitely hot and cute. Making Ash aware? Pure idiocy.

"How you even are? I haven't talked to you in days." - You looked at him as he sipped some Gatorade or what.

"Ya know da drill, the business somehow rolls, we survivin'." - He nodded, but his face got more serious than before. - "Havin' a problem with a package lately. Kinda thought ya might be willin' to help us?"

"How could I help you with package delivery? Ashtray, that's dumb even for you." - You bickered back, but your smile faded away as none showed up on his serious face.

"Simply. Snuggling into the school's toilettes." - He shook his head as if you were completely dumb. You. You smuggling drugs. You smuggling drugs into school. Holy shit, that boy went officially crazy.

"Ash." - Fez's voice could be heard before you he entered the shop with the back entrance. He was looking tired as hell... Your poor baby boy. Such a cuddly kitten he was when he was tired like that. - "I told ya dat we ain't discussin' dat shit. Hi, babe." - Fezco came in to hug you and kiss your cheek. He stayed like that for a fairly long time before kissing your neck.

"And I told ya that Mouse will kick ma motherfuckin' ass if that package doesn't disappear. It a load and it's fuckin' huge. Expansive. It costs at least 200, maybe 300. It depends on how I'll be feelin'." - Ashtray answered seriously.

"Slow down. Both of you. First off, who the fuck is Mouse?" - You asked and made Fezco back up a bit. He would make you less concentrated with his nuzzling and neck kisses. Ashtray got up and took three different packs of gum.

There was a menthol flavor on the top, melon under it and the bubblegum flavor on the bottom. You looked at him with raised eyebrows and Ash just held a hand in front of him to tell you that you have to wait a bit until he'll tell you the conclusion.

"Look at it like dat, honey." - He told nonchalantly and you nodded, still keeping Fezco one feet away from you. - "The menthol ones are da best, so they on the top. Then there are the melon ones because of their good but not da best. And she bubblegum are just not dat good. Ya with me?" - Ashtray looked at you and you nodded.

"So. Mouse is da menthol flavor because he keeps deliverin' da shit to deal. We da melon ones. We sell to people. Which are da bubblegum flavor? This is sort of an analogy." - You leaned into the counter and smiled at you. You exhaled loudly as you finally understood.

"So, when I put into normal language." - You rose your finger while you looked at his gum analogy and hierarchy. - "Mouse is producing your material, whoever it is. You buy if from him and you sell it to other people. Am I right?"

"Honey lemme tell ya that ya a smart gal." - Ashtray smile got even wider and he went to put the gums back.

"And you two have a package which is huge and expansive and you need only a delivery service, right?" - You rose your eyebrows and Fezco broke the distance for the first time and held your hand firmly.

"Babe, I don't want to get ya involved into dis shit." - Fezco whispered into your ear and gave you a look from his fucking long lashes. His baby blue eyes were worried.

"Dat's right. Fez and I only need a delivery service. Ya up? We'll give you a little somethin' for takin' the risk." - Ashtray smiled at you. Something was tempting you to do it.

It was wrong, definitely. But it had to be adrenaline. It would be risky and you would go to rehab or straight to jail if somebody would catch you. It was on the borderline of crazy. You were putting your dignity and your sane mind into the stakes.

But also, your boyfriend and his little friend were in trouble. And it sounded like serious trouble if someone would ask you. Some guy, probably a gangster, would kick their asses if they didn't sell it.

"I can ask Rue if ya can't do it." - Ashtray smiled and smoothed your hand gently. - "I would get it."

"Don't be stupid, Ash. Rue is having her backpack searched through and they keep an eye on her since her OD. Jules is watched as well." - You exhaled loudly and you could feel Fezco's look directly on you. He didn't agree with your forming decision. You could feel the tension between the two of you. There will be an argument afterward between you, you were one hundred percent sure of it.

"Yeah. I told myself da same thing." - Ashtray nodded.

"How... How would that go?" - You turned more to look into Ashtray's face. - "I mean... No fucking way that they wouldn't notice drugs in my fucking backpack."

"Oh, I see, gal." - Astray went away for a minute.

"Y/N... I tell ya that I don't want ya to even come close to ma or Ashe's business. Back off." - Fezco begged for quietly and you took his face into yours, so you kissed him.

"You can't tell me what should I do and what shouldn't I do. I can decide on my own because I have a brain. Don't be afraid, okay?" - You smiled at Fezco.

Oh, how did he loved that you're your own girl? That you have your own brain and that you never let him dictate you anything - but sometimes, it was the serious pain in his arse.

Than Ash came back with a big package. It wasn't like... Extremely huge, but it was slightly bigger than your own palm. It was impossible for you to just snuggle it into school without someone noticing it.

"I see ya scared face. But lemme explain how it works." - Ash put the package in front of you. It was pretty full and heavy - someone needed a fucking load. You looked at Ash while Fezco was still looking at you with his disapproving look. - "I'll be waitin' under a window in da bio lab. You'll go through da checkpoint. They will believe ya dat yo backpack is clean. Ya will take it from me. After dat, ya will snuggle it onto da toilettes. The last one with broken top and with 'Maddy Perez bites cocks'. Ya leave it there. Take da money. Dat all."

"And I will bring you the money after school?" - You rose your eyebrows. It sounded pretty simple to you. It could be fast in and out.

"Exactly." - Ashtray looked at Fezco. - "Ya ladybug is not only pretty but smart too."

"And she won't be doin' dis shit. Leave her fuckin' out." - Fezco almost broke his teeth from gripping it together as hard as he did.

"I can help you, baby. This sounds easy." - You smiled at both of them.

So were in and opened for business. You joined their little gang, you were part of the drug cartel. And it felt badass.

When you rode into the school that morning, you were as paranoid as ever. Almost like the first day at school. You felt like everyone was watching you, talking about you. That morning's check out for guns or drugs in your bag felt itchy. Almost funny. They knew you're one of the good kids, so they just quickly checked your bag and gave it back, wishing you a good day.

Rue was watching her with a furrow. She knew that you're about to do something. But you didn't want to tell her what. She had a feeling that it is something almost extremely stupid, but you just didn't talk to her.

Ashtray was on the spot on time which was determined the very morning before when Fezco was taking you to school because Fran had to leave early. you only opened up the window and shoved the things inside your bag. But then your stomach almost made you throw up because the classroom opened up. Your hand was still in the bag, holding the package and you almost shit yourself on the spot.

You needed to calm down as soon as you could to think of some good reason why you were in an empty class before school even started.

"Oh, miss Y/L/N." - Mrs. Garner walked into the class with her folder pressed to her boobs in her typical black jeans. She was a bio teacher and she was a great one. She was sensitive, nice to her students, positive and just overall nice. Every time a problem, you could come to her and tell her. - "Nice to see you here. Looking out of the window, watching photosynthesis? Nice."

Mrs. Garner liked you and she wasn't suspecting a single shitty thing about you in an empty classroom next to an opened window. You were a good student, you always answered in her classes. You were smart as well, giving her some good questions. She liked you.

But you thought that you're fucked. You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself down, but you couldn't. Your cheeks reddened and you almost threw up her new Nike sneakers. Did she see anything? Did she see the drugs? Had she seen Ash running away from the window? Holy fuck. God may help you.

"I had just... Forgave something here. Sorry for not telling you, miss. Also, the air was kinda stuck in here, so I thought I will let in some fresh air in here before your first class." - You closed up your backpack and shoved your fists into your hoodie so she couldn't see how you nervously played with your fingers and how sweaty your palms were. You tried to smile at her, but it felt fake.

Miss Garner didn't seem to notice as she smiled at you and slowly smoothed your shoulder.

"I swear to God that you're one of the best students I ever had." - She looked at her watch before smiling at you again. - "You should go before the class starts."

And how gladly did you run off all sweaty? You were about to faint when you reached your English class. Rue was furrowing her look at you, asking you what's up silently. You weren't looking good at all. You waved her off and sat on your seat. There you rapping your feet at a fast pace.

What now? What's the next move? What should you do? You sat through half of the class as a body without a soul. But then it hit you. Toilettes. You throwing up. Pretend to be sick.

"Sir!" - You yelled through the whole class and stood up. You looked like a mess with a really bad fl, sweaty and pale as the classroom’s wall. - "I think I'm gonna puke." - And with that, he basically let you run out of class without a question; your throat made a similar sound to when you were puking and your teacher did not really want to be puked on. That was easy. So now, you had to find the fucking toilette, leave it there, take the money and leave.

Finding a cab which had 'Maddy Perez bites cocks' all over it, sprayed in green color, wasn't that hard - everyone knew that toilette. But you couldn't get in whatever the fuck was with it. You tried everything; your own hands, power, kicking it off, nothing helped. You almost cried. You didn't want to be caught with a shit ton of drugs in your backpack.

But at the moment, you didn't know what else outside a breakdown you should do.

"Hey, shithead." - Rue's voice echoed through the empty toilettes. She was walking slowly and her footsteps were louder and louder. You tried to stop crying, but you were too fucked up to even take the mucus off with a Cleanex. - "Hey. What's up?" - Rue asked, opening the cab door slowly and walking into the cab to kneel beside you.

She wanted to ask you if you're ok, but she only smoothed your shoulder and then she stopped herself. Oh, so that was why you were so weird since the very morning. Then she looked at the toilette, at you and almost slapped herself on the spot.

Of course, Rue knew what is happening in the very cab. She started with that cache when she was in the freshman year and she couldn't meet with Fez face to face. A lot of people in the eleventh grade took it as a good opportunity to get some cash.

"Fuckin' Ash. Keeps forget to tell ’em about the lock on the back of da tank." - She rolled her eyes and leaned behind the toilette, opening the tank up with skilled hands. She giggled and showed you her slim palm. You just watched it with a frightened face.

"Gimme da package." - She ordered and so you did. She laughed when she saw how many materials were in there and how much it weighed in her hand. Then she gave you the money in a waterproof sack, stuffed the drugs inside and closed the toilette again, locking it on the other side.

She sat there on the other side of the cab, there was barely space for that, your legs were entwined and you just quickly and silently shoved the bag with money into the depths of your backpack.

“Yo first time doin’ dat?” - Rue smiled a bit at you and she looked pretty relaxed. She wasn't even a bit upset about you smuggling drugs or your cab breakdown - she was just happy. - “Mine secret cache. A lot of da older kids know about it, but I had started it here when times were bad.” - She smiled and smoothed your leg.

“My first time doing this and certainly the last doing it. I could have been fucked if not for you.” - You finally calmed down a bit, since you had only money in your bag now, cleaning up your face with a tissue.

“Yeah. But da better thin’?” - Rue stood up and offered you her hand. - “Ya look so terribly that Mr. Smith told me to take ya home when I find you. He doesn't want a student with flu in his class, he's too afraid that he might catch it too.”

“So I can give Ash the money ASAP and finally take a deep breath in.” - You stood up and she hugged you, smoothing your hair quietly.

“Tell me ya won’t fall into da trap me and Fez are in.” - She took your face into her palms. Oh dear lord, she was about to cry, her lips curling down. - “Promise me that yo gonna stay the fuck out, baby.”

“Yeah. I can fucking you promise that.” - You mumbled and shoved your face into her neck as you both stood there and cried. You were holding her tightly; even if nothing happened basically, your nerves were on the top of stress. This... Everything was biting your ass and all you wanted was to really go home, lay in bed and forget about all that day.

Rue and you decided to really go out of the school. You didn't want to be there because you knew that nothing that would the professors say would catch your attention. So you visited your friend in the reception room who wrote you and Rue the permits to leave school and then, you rode down on her bike, you sitting on the spot for the bags.

For a small moment, you felt free. Completely free and careless. You were glad for this experience - at least, you were able to determine that you'll never do any of it again. It was just not worth it for a person like you.

Since the day you've been born, everyone saw as the good girl. As the nice one who helps people, who are there to listen when they got a problem, to help them with their ailments. Stuff like this, stuff in which was Fezco and Ash lived in was not a world for you to live in.

You weren't as strong as they were. Your nerves could barely handle the stress of being caught. You almost fucked up two times - even if you only had to deliver the package in a radius of thirty meters.

You gave Ash the money, firmly put it onto the wood and gazed on him with a dead look in your eyes.

"Don't you ever dare to make me do it one more time. I almost puked, I almost shitted myself and no amount of money is worth to end up in jail. No, thank you." - You shook your head and Ash smiled quietly at you as Rue put her bottle next to the counter.

"Got it. I know dat dis isn't da work for everyone, but you saved my and Fezzy's ass." - He gave you fifty dollars from the package payment. - "For risking yo ass. And you can get somethin' for free today." - He left the shop and Rue made her puppy eyes on you.

She wanted the cherry soda you took there on your first visit to the shop. So you nodded and left. You wanted to be as far from Ash as you could.

#rue bennett #rue euphoria #fezco euphoria #fezco #fez euphoria #fezco x reader #fezco hno #fezco imagine #euphoria hbo #euphoria #fez #mount everest ain't got shit on us

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liw-the-melancholic-apple · 4 years ago

Text

How it may have gone - Humble beginnings

If you're into Harry Potter maybe give this a read. Let me know what you think. It is a marauders fic with tons of original characters.

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are a bunch of things. But mainly they're teenagers. In their 6th year the political climate in the magical community gets colder and conflict is near inevitable. At hogwarts that leads to more animosity between some of the students. But it also bands some together.

Another prefect in the group doesn't seem like a good idea on paper, but it turns out that the soap opera aspects of high school as well as the downsides of wizardry are better faced with Friends. The more the merrier.

Masterlist

One: Skip the step

Six old-timey claw footed armchairs with purple upholstery. Two little side tables, dark wood, also claw footed with visible glass marks on the shiny tabletop. No windows. Thick velvet curtains to both sides of the door. Their colour was somewhere between magenta and burgundy. They should have clashed with the armchairs but didn’t. The floor was dark graphite or something like it. No rug.

Three gigantic bookshelves with glass cabinets to my left. One of them held the same book over and over and over again. I had checked. I had double checked. I actually was the very same book, same edition, same author, exact same title. First I had thought that it was the biggest encyclopaedia I’d ever seen. But it was just copies over copies of one book. “How to survive wizardkind” by Agathe Lieberschenk. Sounded German.

The door of the second cupboard was covered with inky black fabric, so I couldn’t see if it held the same book again. Though, I was pretty sure it didn’t. There wouldn’t be any need to keep people from prying if it was just the same book again.

the case closest to me buzzed quietly. In the middle a large contraption was stored. I had no idea what the thing was but it caused the buzzing. A large triangle made out of what seemed to be white gold pipes spinning on its tip in mid-air over a silver tray engraved with runes that I couldn’t decipher. The buzzing got on my nerves. I was absolutely sure that it got several octaves higher since I first entered the small and stuffy room.

I forced my eyes away from the décor and found myself staring at the top of the doorframe again, although I knew that the clock which hung there was not showing the actual time but the centuries that had passed since the it was hung. Currently, the big hand sat at 8. Old clock. Old room. Old castle.

Frustrated that I had no idea how long I’d been sitting in my stupid purple chair I huffed audibly. Blue-ish grey eyes darted at me curiously. I didn’t need to check. I knew. They had done so every single time I had moved or even breathed loudly. They were nervous.

The boy they belonged to sat across from he in his very own stupid purple chair. Feet tapping an uneven rhythm on the stone floor, fingers clawing into his knees. As I looked up to his face I expected his face to express his anxiety just as much as his body did. But it was calm, statuesque. Breathing was quiet en deep, eyes, still looking in mine, were expressionless and the skin was the usual pale, instead of the flustered red I had expected.

After a while the slightly narrow-set eyes looked to the top of the door. The brows furrowed in annoyance but quickly returned to their original position, helping the face try to convey calmness again. His fingers gripped his trousers even faster, though.

I didn’t like to admit it but the way in which Black was capable of controlling his expression was impressive. My emotions were always readable for anyone and everyone, his face was nearly always as made of stone. It must have driven him insane that is body betrayed his efforts of hiding his anxiety.

“God, how long can it take to tell them off!” I jumped a little at the exclamation and heard the tall boy next to me chuckle.

“Well, maybe he finally kicks them out of school and goes through the paperwork with them”, I couldn’t see the boy that voice belonged to, as he sat next to tall chuckler but he was clearly amused.

The tapping of the feet across from me got louder as the four other boys started fantasising about the conversation behind the closed door that held us in the stuffy purple buzzing chamber. As I wondered whether Black maybe tap-danced in his spare time a slightly bigger foot stepped on his. “Relax Reggie”, the boy belonging to the foot said softly. Black scoffed at his brother and kept tapping. “Why are you so nervous, mate?”, Potter pushed his glasses back up his nose as he leaned forward to inspect the state the younger Black was in. Another scoff but no actual answer.

“Look at the goodie-two-shoes over there, they seem perfectly fine”, Potter continued vaguely gesturing toward Remus and me.

“I doubt she’s fine”, Remus chuckled again, looking down to me. I refused to take part in the conversation so I remained silent and stoic, inspecting the ornaments on the side tables for the eightieth time.

But Remus was right. I was not fine. I was fuming. Fuming because we would definitely be late for dinner and I was starving. Fuming because I was sitting next to that goddamn buzzing triangle that had just gone another octave higher and threatened to explode my drums. Fuming because I had let them get the better of me. Fuming because of what had been said. Yeah, mainly because of what had been said. But my feelings were none of their bloody business.

“She looks fine”, the voice behind Remus had leaned forward just like Potter, round face looking at me perfectly innocent. Now, it was my turn to doubt. I was no Regulus Black. I was annoyed and I bet that that was very visible.

“Meh”, Remus said turning towards me. “Pretty sure she’s never been here before and doesn’t like it.” I turned my attention to the curtains again, doing my best to ignore them.

“Does she talk?”, older Black chuckled.

“Yeah, she usually does. A lot even. Which is why I doubt she’s fine.” I could hear him grin. He had a way of looking like a hyena when he felt mischievous. Which was often. Prefect or not, he was just as involved in the pranks, schemes and fights as the other three Gryffindors.

“Proof it!”, Potter demanded, leaving me puzzled as to who needed to proof what.

“Proof what?”, Remus asked.

“That she talks.”

“She’s not a parrot, Prongs. And I’m most definitely not her keeper or her tamer. And I’d like it to be understood that I know that”, with those last words he turned completely to me. I knew that he was looking at me and I also knew that it was childish to pretend he didn’t exist or that I had not heard the conversation. So, I looked at him and gave him a quick nod.

My acknowledging Remus’ existence was interpreted as an invitation to talk to me directly by his friends. “ Come on De Witt, just say hello or something”, Potter whined. He pronounced my name wrong. Most people did. They all pronounced it Do-it. Not Deh-vitte. Very annoying.

“That’s not how you pronounce that”, younger Black said to not only my surprise. “It’s deh-vitte. German name.”

“Dutch”, I couldn’t help myself and instantly bit my tongue.

“Aha!”, Black the elder shouted pointing at me frantically as if he had just seen my spew fire.

“I told you she could talk”, Remus commented, grinning again.

“They already knew she could talk, Lupin, they’re trying to wind her up.” Younger Black seemed to have decided that just tap-dancing and clawing open wounds into his knees wasn’t enough to combat his uneasiness.

“How do you know how to pronounce her name”, Pettigrew asked confused, neglecting that they had long passed my surname.

“She’s in my year. Corrects the teachers all the time. You’d think they’d remember how to pronounce her name but they don’t.”

“Why would they?”, Potter pushed his glasses back again.

“She’s been here for nearly five years now and she’s rivalling Remus in classes. You’d think a teacher would know how she’s called, wouldn’t ya?”

Against my will I shot Black a surprised look. How on earth did he know about my marks? Then again, I knew about Remus’ and I only ever spoke to him if I had to.

“So, you’re a goodie-to-shoes and a know-it-all, huh?”, the older Black looked me up and down. I sighed and faced him.

“So it seems.” The triangle skipped an octave and practically screamed at me. Irritated I turned to the cupboard.

“It only does that for as long as you pay attention to the sound”, Pettigrew informed me. I looked at him blank-faced. “What?”

“That thing, if you ignore the buzzing, it will actually stop.”

I looked at him, then back at the annoying triangle and let out a “huh”.

“How do you know?”, I asked after a quick moment, forgetting that I was fuming and didn’t want to talk to those boys, because I was too curious about the infuriating contraption in the cupboard.

Older Black started pointing at me again dramatically and reminded me of toddlers at the zoo. Potter and Remus started laughing a bit and Pettigrew turned red. “Well, eh, uhm”, he began when Remus rescued him: “Not our first time, here. We figured that out” he pointed toward my bookshelf, “in second year. Maybe third.” I nodded. Of course they knew every little detail of Dumbledore’s waiting room. The practically lived in his office.

I was contemplating whether I should ask if they knew what was up with the endless copies of that one book, when the door opened and Professor McGonnagal came in. She did not look amused. Her eyes met mine, her head darted toward the door she had just come through and then she turned around again.

As I got up Potter shouted after her: “Oh, come on Minnie, we’ll miss dinner if she’ll take just as long!”

McGonnagal turned back around. “Well, Mr Potter, so will I. But do you hear me whine?”, she shot him a cold look, then graced every single one of the boys with it, while I stood stupidly waiting for instructions. I felt awkward. The professors look lingered on Remus, then she waved him to also follow her.

We walked behind her, crossing the small corridor from the waiting room to the big oak French door to Dumbledore’s office.

We were guided toward two new old-timey claw footed armchairs with purple upholstery and sat down. No sign of the six Slytherins who had been called in before us. I looked at my headmaster on the other side of the heavy antique desk and waited.

He took his time saying something. Looking at Remus first, then me, then back to Remus, ever so slightly shaking his head. In disappointment?

“I would have expected much more from two prefects than to end that situation by hexing classmates. If there is anybody who knows this is against the rules, it is the pair of you.” I wanted to correct him but he lifted his hand effectively shutting me up.

“Both of you are very skilled when it comes to communication and you have been chosen to be the prefects for your respective houses because you can keep a level head and remain objective in situations such as the one that landed you here. Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

I waited about one heartbeat to give Remus a chance to defend himself. When he didn’t I addressed the bearded man with the silly hat myself: “Remus shouldn’t be here. Professor Dumbledore. He didn’t hex anybody. If you want to scold someone for not being a proper prefect, it should be me. Remus has not broken any rules and if you let him leave now, he might still have full choice at dinner.” I looked at the headmaster in anticipation. He turned is his halfmoon glasses toward Remus and raised both eyebrows.

“Well, Sir, she isn’t wrong. But I don’t think she’s right either.” Dumbledore’s eyebrows jumped up even higher on his forehead.

“I might not have hexed anybody myself, but I also didn’t keep anybody from doing so. And if I’m honest I would have if Jette hadn’t disarmed me.” He paused for a second, glancing at me, then continuing:” And while we’re defending each other: Jette didn’t hex her classmates, she disarmed them – in pretty badass move by the way –“, he notched me in the side and I couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. “And she only disarmed them – us – because we were about to hex each other. And it also wasn’t her first attempt of keeping us from doing it.”

“It wasn’t?”, Dumbledore interrupted, redirecting his attention to me. “No, Sir, it wasn’t. When I stumbled across them, wand at the ready to curse each other I first conjured protection. But as soon as I let that go, they were at it again. So, in order to prevent any actual harm, I disarmed them.”

“In a pretty badass move!”, Remus said again.

“Why are you so hung up on that?”, I asked, momentarily forgetting that I was here to try and not get punished, rather than discussing Lupins enthusiasm over my Defence-against-the-dark-Arts-techniques.

“’cause it was a clean sweep in one move. Very elegant. Never seen anybody do that.”

“Why thanks, Remus.” I was honestly flattered.

“What you are telling me is that Mr Lupin did only make himself guilty of wishing to hex somebody and that Miss De Witt’s only crime was to prevent any hexing?” We stupidly looked at each other, then nodded in unison. That was pretty much what happened.

I thought that he was satisfied with that answer and would maybe let us of the hook and into the Great Hall with a warning but he wasn’t done with us yet.

“Do either of you know why there were a total of twelve students trying to assault each other in the transfiguration corridor?”

If I were to answer that question my still searing anger would get the better of me, so I hoped Remus would just say no.

“I don’t know who started it Sir, we rounded the corner when Jette yelled at them to stop. As soon as Sirius realised that Mulciber and his friends were hexing Regulus he got in on it. And so did the rest of us.”

“Not you, though?”

“Well, technically only Black got to actually cast a spell, Sir”, I interrupted. “The rest of them were going to but couldn’t because of the Protego. Including Remus.”

“You were there before Mr Lupin, I understand?”

The old man’s eyes were far too bright, lively and inquisitive for someone his age, and they looked directly into mine.

“Yes, Sir. A bit.”

“Do you know how the rowl started?” Yes, yes, I did. But I didn’t know whether I could tell him while keeping a level head and staying objective. Those damn elitist Slytherins!

“They had words, Professor.”

“Who did?”

“Mulciber and Black, Sir.”

“They had words?”

“They argued.”

“About what?” His eyes bore in mine as if he already knew what they had fought about and he just wanted me to tell him.

“Ehm…” I started trying to win time to calm down a bit and find the right words. I realised I wiggled my lips from left to right as I was thinking.

“About the company Black was keeping during lunch”, I finally said, forcing myself to sound calm. Remus’ head twitched towards me.

“He had lunch with us.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just shut up.

“Why would Mr Mulciber be interested in or upset about who Mr Black spends his lunch with?” Dumbledore’s eyes wouldn’t let me go.

“I… think that’s a question for him, Sir.”

“You heard the argument, didn’t you, Miss De Witt?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t know what Mulciber is thinking…”

“Would you recount the argument for me?” No. No, I really wouldn’t. I’m not one to use those terms!

“I’d rather not, Sir. It was…unpleasant.” Remus sighed next to me in understanding. But Dumbledore wouldn’t let me off the hook.

“Humour me, Miss De Witt. Please.”

My teeth clenched I breathed in and out a couple of times, begging myself to not fly into pure rage.

“Mulciber – and his friends – are apparently … proud of… their heritage.” I managed to say slowly through my teeth. I hoped the headmaster would just take the hint. He had whatever Mulciber told him – I assumed he would have no problem repeating the insults he had used – and he could also ask Black the younger about the argument. It was his after all.

“You meant to say they are proud to be pureblood wizards?”, the old man’s eyes softened. A bit.

“Yes, Sir. That.”

“What does that have to do with Mr Black’s lunch?”, he asked very innocently and as if he had no idea, although Remus had already said that Black the younger had sat with him and his friends. Couldn’t the grandmaster of the Wizarding gamot just use his abnormally large brain to figure that out?

“With all due respect, Sir, I think you know”, I answered vaguely.

“Please, Miss De Witt, just give me your account of events.” I groaned involuntarily.

“Really, Sir, I’m just gonna get angry.”

“Feel free to”, he smiled at me in encouragement. I quickly glanced at Remus and he shrugged.

Again I took a moment to collect myself before I started talking.

“Well. Mulciber and his goons had seen that Black had been lunching with his brother and Remus, Pettigrew, Potter and Evans at the Gryffindor table”, I started feeling heat rising all over my body as I remembered the scene in the transfiguration corridor right after lunch.

“They weren’t happy about that because of their being proud pure bloods”, I spat the word like it was poisonous. “In their mind a fine pure blood Slytherin boy like Black should never, under any circumstance, fraternise with people who aren’t purebloods – or Merlin forbid those people who defend halfbloods and muggleborns.” I got really worked up now.

“So, when they met Black in the corridor they yelled at him that he was a disgrace to Slytherin House and his family, just like...”, I interrupted myself and glanced at Remus again. He looked at me scarred face all serious and nodded slightly.

“Just like his blood traitor brother.” Now that I said it, there was no going back and I knew I was going to yell in just a couple of seconds letting out all my frustration and fury.

“His blood traitor brother who does not only eat lunch with the filthy halfbreeds and unworthy muggleborns but who has the audacity to be friends with them and publically defend them and their rights.

Mulciber called Black – the younger Black – a bloodtraitor himself threw around some great insults for Remus and Pettigrew and then – in front of the whole goddamn year!!! – he shouted that Black should stop hanging out with a – and I quote – filthy mudblood like Evans who should be hunted like the vermin she is.

Then Mulciber pulled his wand and gave Black the Lion tattoo in his neck. Only then did Black take up his own wand and tried to protect himself. That lot”, I gestured at Remus, nearly poking his eye out, “had come ‘round the corner just before the hex and probably heard the last few sentences Mulciber had said. Naturally, other Black and Potter were up in arms immediately and that’s when I cast the Protego. Mind you for all of them. Including Mulciber and his racist friends, Professor. I cast a Protego for them. And don’t think that any of that stopped them from yelling and insulting and throwing words around that I have learned to never use however angry I am.

And what happens after I disarm the lot of them? We all get dragged to your office. We all get the same speech from McGonnagal. And we”, again I gestured at Remus, who had to duck away as I had risen from my chair standing up in all my anger. “get to wait for hours and miss dinner, while that elitist, racist snob gets to have some pudding. Tell you what, Professor Dumbledore if I had known that acting my age and remaining reasonable would have landed me here in the exact same spot as that piece of shit I would have never even bothered to protect them. I would have loved to help Black jinx Them into the next century and back!

How dare you punish Black when he only acted against a useless and unwarranted prejudice by standing up for his brother and his friends in public. Him having to go back to his dorm and common room should be punishment enough. They’ll rip him to shreds and you don’t even let him have a last dinner before that? He’s done the right goddamn thing!

How dare you punish Remus, Potter and Black when they only helped the clear underdog and stood up for not only themselves but also every single student in this school who happens to not be a Sacred 28? With the current political climate you should award every single student who speaks for mixed heritage a medal or 500 housepoints, not make them go crazy in that maddening buzzing room!

You should’ve thanked them for speaking some sense, for showing that those elitists aren’t scary, that you can easily get the better of them. That it’s your right to defend yourself when somebody calls you unworthy of even existing! But would do you do? You haul them in here to punish them. How’s that fair, huh? How’s that fair?

And don’t get me started on the fact that I fought the urge of just bashing Mulciber’s head into the wall and instead made sure that nobody got harmed! Not that bottomfeeder of a Slytherin, not his very justified attackers, not the innocent bystanders, of which there were a lot in that corridor. No one harmed.

You should just thank us all and let us go for trying to fight discrimination. Because that’s a noble thing to do. And you should thank Black twice because I honestly think that he mostly agrees with Mulciber’s twisted opinions but still stuck up for his brother and the lot.

And while we’re at it: I think you should also expel that wanker Mulciber for openly attacking others, physically and verbally, with terms that are as unforgivable as the curses!”

I huffed and puffed and figured I had nothing more to say. So, I stood, breathing heavily for a while, then sat back down. I quickly looked at Remus to figure out how he saw my chances of staying at the school after that outburst, but had to find that he looked at me like I had just introduced him to the horsemen of the apocalypse and announced the end of the world. No help there.

A little weary I turned back to Dumbledore, whose mouth was somewhat stuck between a smile and a smirk. He took a deep breath, keeping his freakishly youthful eyes on me, then he spoke: ”Thank you for coming in and clearing the whole thing up. Seeing that the pair of you are prefects and supposed to make sure that he rules of this school are followed, you’ll understand that you have to be disciplined for breaking them. Please report to Madam Pince every day after your last class for the next week to serve detention.” He was calm, not the least bit shaken, confused, angered or shocked by my fit of rage and pointed to the door. “That’s all”.

Confused out of my mind I slowly got up again and followed Remus out of the office. As we opened the door we nearly collided with Professor McGonnagal who stood right behind it, back to us, gesturing vividly as if she was guarding a hoard of three year olds. As the door closed I heard different voices shouting and finally McGonnagal stepped away.

“That was bloody brilliant!”, Pettigrew stared at me as if I was some kind of apparition. Potter slammed his hand against my back several times, while the older Black wiped away a non-existing tear from his eye. Younger Black just smiled at me a little crooked and mouthed a thank you. Before I even got a chance to process the last couple of minutes, let alone react to my newly founded fan club Dumbledore appeared in the door to his office and ushered the four boys in. Remus and I remained in the hall.

“You’re free to go”, McGonnagal informed us with her usual stone cold, strict face but her voice sounded a lot warmer than usual.

I didn’t waste one second and basically ran down the stairs to get away from that whole mess of a situation and to my well-deserved dinner.

I did not get very far. I had just left the griffin gargoyle behind me and turned left to get back down to the ground floor and the Great Hall when I heard some sniffles. Then sobbing. Oh, great! I really wanted to ignore the sounds of despair and just leave whoever it was to fix their own misery but I knew that that wasn’t me and that I didn’t lose my prefect badge in the headmaster’s office, so it was basically my job to investigate the crying.

♠♠♠

For the I-don’t-know-how-many-th time that day I took some stabilising and calming breaths, then walked backwards to the little alcove I had just passed. Bingo!

There she sat, no older than 12 dressed in black robes with blue and bronze accessories balling her eyes out. I took in my surroundings again before I approached her. This was upper-classmen territory. I had only just started coming here myself, so surely the little Ravenclaw was really lost.

I kept my distance, standing just before the alcove’s entrance and crouched down. “Hey, you alright there?” Despite my efforts not to seem threatening and the use of my I-can-help-you-find-your-mummy-face and voice I startled her. She hick-upped as she lifted her head and stared at me with the biggest and wettest eyes.

“You seem a little out of place”, I tried again sitting down putting my arms around my knees with a smile.

She sniffled. Her eyes fluttered to my face, then my yellow badge with the cursive “Prefect” on it and back to my face. “Uhm…” She started. “I… am…lost?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Huh”, I answered. “How’d you get here?”

“Stupid stairs”, she said more to herself than me.

“Oh, yeah those will mess up your day”, I chuckled. “And they will forever. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been here and how well you think you know your way around the castle, those stairs will have you wandering around for hours without the foggiest idea whether you’re even still in Scotland. Happened to me just last week.” It hadn’t. I hadn’t gotten lost in this school since my third week of first year, but I figured she could use the reassurance. And I was right. She gave me a shy smile.

“It did?”

“Sure thing”, I lied getting up and reaching out my hand to help her do the same. She only hesitated a short moment before taking my hand and standing up.

“So, where were you headed?”

“Dinn…”

“Oi, de Witt!”, she was interrupted by the voice of Remus Lupin and some heavy footsteps. Pained expression on my face I turned to see that he and his posse ran toward me and my insecure second year.

I considered ignoring them and just taking the girl to the Great Hall but they already were too close for me to pretend that I didn’t hear them.

“Yeeeeeees?”, I stretched out the word as much as I could to stress my unwillingness to talk to them. Remus came to an abrupt stop just few feet away from me catching his breath. He opened his mouth to say something, realised I wasn’t alone, closed it again and started anew: “New friend?”

“Uhm… we just met actually. And we were going to dinner”, I responded. “If that’s still happening that is…” While Remus tried again to say what he originally intended, Potter crouched down in front of the girl and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m James. Did the stairs get you?”

The second year carefully shook his hand. “Jill. And yes.” Jill didn’t look up at him she stared at her feet, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh well, don’t sweat that!”, laughed Black the elder. “Happens all the time to everybody.” Liar.

“Why don’t you just jump on and let Peter here explain to you how you best avoid those tossers’ tricks?”, Potter suggested while turned around, still crouched, to let her climb on his back. She looked up at me as to get my permission and because I didn’t really know what was going on I just shrugged and she smiled.

Potter stood back up looking very happy with himself and introduced Jill to Pettigrew. Pettigrew threw himself in a story of how he was trapped in the prank step for hours in his third year and gave Jill a long list of helpful and not so helpful tips. I followed the trio with both Blacks and Remus.

“Her entire year will be jealous of that piggy back ride”, chuckled Remus knowing very well how popular Potter was with the girls.

“Not just her year”, I corrected knowing very well how popular Potter was with the girls.

“If you give her a high-five in the Great Hall she will be a legend at least for the rest of the year”, I said to Black the elder and earned a surprised but satisfied grin.

The whole Jill-thing had calmed me down quite a bit I realised and I didn’t mind the boys’ company.

“I had no idea you could blow up like that”, younger Black said, smirking at the sight of Jill laughing and squealing in joy as James went into Rodeo-mode.

“Well, I usually don’t in front of headmasters… or people I don’t know that well.”

“Thanks, anyways.”, I looked at younger Black crunching up my face.

“For defending me. Us, really. You didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I had to! And meant every word. Mulciber, I swear to god…”, I cut myself of because I was getting angry again.

“There were quite some compliments in there, Jette”, Remus broke his silence and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he finally said what he wanted to say when called out for me a couple minutes earlier.

“So?” What’s wrong with that?

“I didn’t know you thought so highly of us”, he grinned that mischievous grin of his.

“Highly?”

“If I recall correctly you called us noble”, Black the elder answered for Remus with that crooked halfsmile that had become his signature thing.

“I think I called your actions noble. Your actions in that very specific situation. Let’s not get too carried away”, I corrected but laughed at the same time. Black rolled his eyes.

“So you’re on library duty with him”, younger Black asked with a side look to Remus.

“Yes, a week’s worth of detention with the ever so chatty Madam Pince.” I sighed. She and I didn’t really get along. Not that I visited the library more than absolutely necessary anyways.

“What about you?” While I asked that question I realised that I was having a pretty civil conversation with two of the school’s most well-known troublemakers and younger Black who had silently agreed with me to just ignore each other’s existence for most of our school career.

“Reporting to Hagrid for a week every night”, younger Black said non-chalantly. “That can’t be too bad, right? I always wanted a good reason to go into the forest.”

“For someone who shit his pants in fear of punishment just about an hour ago you speak with a lot of confidence, Reggie”, his brother teased and earned a fist to the shoulder.

We caught up with Pettigrew, Potter and Jill just in time to hear Pettigrew hammer home the point that one should always skip the trick step. He had Jill repeat it several times and nodded heavily. I giggled. Pettigrew then mentioned some actually interesting bits of information about how she should always look out the window if the stairs messed with her to figure out on which floor and in which wing she was, before reminding her that it was most important to skip the step. This time I giggled in unison with Jill who seemed to thoroughly enjoy her evening now.

As we rounded the last corner to the foyer Pettigrew had Jill repeat the Top Five Tips he had given her starting with five. As she got to one Pettigrew dramatically winked at her and said it with her:” Always skip the step!” Jill broke into laughter at the doors of the Great Hall, which Pettigrew threw open dramatically to let Potter gallop in there, Black the elder right beside him. When all eyes were on them Potter let Jill dismount, smiled at her widely and wished her a great evening. Black the elder raised his hand for a high five and told her – louder than necessary – to just ask them for help if ever she needed it. I simultaneously rolled my eyes at their exaggeration and smiled at their effort to make her feel better once and for all.

She had just turned to go to the Ravenclaw table when Peter yelled after her: “Skip the step!” which had her smile from ear to ear.

Black the younger scoffed a little, lifted a hand as greeting farewell and was already on his way to the Slytherin table when his brother shouted: “Hey Reggie, don’t forget to…

“Skip the step, I know”, Black interrupted in turning half around grinning and waving dismissively.

“Well that was…an unexpected turn of events.” I said as I walked to the two left tables with the boys. Halfway down my table I stopped having found my friends and I was going to just sit down and breathe in my dinner but I couldn’t help it.

“Oi. Pettigrew”, he looked at me surprised. “Remember to skip the step, yeah?” I giggled at his expression somewhere between extreme confusion and extreme delight, as Black the elder laughed a barky laugh, Remus gave me a double thumbs-up and Potter ruffled through Pettigrews hair.

I sat down fully between Chloe and Milla who looked me up and down as if I was ill, just like Crick on the other side of the table. I considered telling them the entire story, but looking at the scarce rests of the dinner buffet, I decided to first eat. I deserved some pork chops

#marauders textpost #harry potter #marauders era #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #fanfiction

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timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic · 5 years ago

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Chapter 8 - The Future In An Instant Seattle Washington, February 13 1988

(Andi is 18, Chris is 23)

ANDI: A couple of hours later, everyone had decided to move the party back to Andy’s place. I found the perfect spot on Andy’s couch, right in the corner where I felt the most comfortable, While Chris sat next to me sipping on his Jack Daniels. Everyone else was pretty much everywhere laughing and drinking, bringing out their guitars and what not and playing random cover tunes.

“I had no idea you lived with Andy, I’ve never seen you any time I’ve been over here with Xana,” I say taking a sip of my Jack and Coke.

“I just got back from touring with the band so you wouldn’t have… it’s actually the first time I’d been home since August,” Chris says leaning back on the couch and resting his leg across his knee.

“Oh, well… welcome home,” I smile, feeling awkward. I’m so nervous and Chris is so amazingly gorgeous that I just end up freezing up and can’t think of anything to say.

“Fuck, I can’t believe that… this is happening, I mean I remember you saying where we would meet and when but when it actually happens it’s just…wow,” Chris says flipping his curls out of his face and turning towards me more, his gorgeous blue eyes flicking over my body and then landing at mine.

“Chris?”

“I mean, it’s been so long since I saw you last. We were in my room and just hanging out and you obviously ended up, you know leaving and - ”

“Chris?”

“I just want to tell you everything - ”

“-Chris?” I interrupt, trying to get him to focus.

“Yea?” He asks, slightly worried.

“Can we just… maybe back it up a little bit and pretend that you don’t know me? Like, this is our actual first meeting… maybe?” I ask, shifting a little and pushing my curls behind my ear, feeling bad but I’m so overwhelmed that I’m doing everything that I can to not stress out and suddenly have a time slip episode with everyone around.

“Yea… yea sure, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Chris furrows his brow and looks down at himself then back to me.

“No, no it’s not that I’m uncomfortable, I mean… it’s you. What girl wouldn’t be excited that Chris Cornell is talking to her? It’s just… no one knows that I -”

“Time slip?” he takes a sip of his drink

“Yea… well you apparently know already which is seriously messing with my head a little bit but… you’re not making me uncomfortable at all,” I re-assure him as I move a little closer and a coy smile spreads across those amazing pouty lips of his.

“I actually feel quite comfortable with you… which is weird, because I’m the queen of shyness,” I giggle and he chuckles with me.

“Yea, normally I’m pretty shy myself, but with you I don’t feel that way at all,” He says with that coy smile again.

“You? Shy? I kind of don’t believe that… I mean have you seen yourself on stage?” I say and he chuckles again.

“Yea, but that’s different. Performing is a totally different experience than just being yourself in a room full of people, and I usually can’t see too far in front of the stage because of all the bright lights, so it pretty much feels like it’s just me with the guys anyways,” He explains.

“Yea, I get that… performing is kinda like that for me too, but I was never really good at getting up in front of people. When I had to audition for Seattle University to get into their music program, holy fuck, I thought I was going to throw up everywhere. But in a larger group of people I’m not as bad… it’s weird,” I say and take a sip of my drink.

“Nah it isn’t weird… it’s just how us musicians work, I guess,” He says and takes a sip of his drink. I never really thought of myself as a musician before so it almost struck me a little weird to hear that from him.

“So, you’ve seen us play before?” He asks.

“Well yes and no… I haven’t ever seen you live live, I just saw like a clip on T.V from the local station or something, they were doing a local band segment… and it was just a quick clip of you, but I picked up your EP downtown at Easy Street Records though…” I explain and take another sip.

“Really? Well… what d'ya think?” He asks a little slyly, moving just a little closer, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“I like it. It’s got um… it’s really Sabbath sounding which I fucking love. ‘Little Joe’ is a little… um… different…” I hesitate, not quite sure how to explain it.

“It’s weird, I know,” Chris says taking the last sip of his drink and setting the empty glass on the small side table. “We were just fucking around with that song. We just wanted to break up the EP a little bit,” I take a sip. I actually like the song, it’s just that it’s so out of place on the album, but I get what he means about breaking up the album a bit.

“You um… you wanna see my room?” He asks cutely suddenly shy, looking at his Doc Marten boot, playing with the laces. I take the last sip of my drink and lean forward to set it down on the table in front of us while everyone around us continues to laugh and play.

“Sure,” I say sweetly, feeling the alcohol give me some sort of confidence that I wouldn’t otherwise have.

Man, Xana was right.

I follow behind him out of the living room and down the long hallway, his curls swaying with his movements, his boots thudding against the hardwood floor as his gorgeous 6 foot 2 frame leads the way. I glance back for a moment to see Xana giving me a wink and a smile from the chair she was sitting in with Andy. I then turn back and watch Chris as we make our way down to the end of the hallway.

Chris opens the door on the left and gestures for me to go inside first. I give him a cute smile and head inside finding on the left side of the room, his bed and a dresser, a bookshelf filled with books and a T.V and stereo combo on the opposite side. A crate of all his records on the floor beside the stereo, a chair that had a few of his clothes strewn all over, some posters of The Beatles, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd and Aerosmith and a stack of amps on the right side of the room, with his guitars - 3 to be exact - a Marten acoustic, a black Fender Strat with a white pick guard and a beautiful dark cherry burst Gibson Les Paul Standard. As you know I was immediately drawn to the guitars of course.

“Wow… Is that the 1960 model?” I ask excitedly as I walk right over to the dark cherry burst Gibson.

“Uh huh…” He says with a smile as he watches me admire it.

“I can tell just by the color… they went from that golden sun look the year before to more of a redish finish,” I explain, feeling my nerdiness for guitars coming out. I squat down as best I could in my short little mini dress, flipping my curls out of my face to get a closer look.

“I think the pickups are different too… um… can I?” I glance back at Chris who hasn’t left the door frame with the sweetest smile spread across his lips.

“Sure,” He gestures for me to go ahead. I bite my bottom lip in excitement as I situate myself on the floor - still being mindful of my dress of course - I slide off my leather jacket, setting it down beside me and carefully take his guitar off the stand and let it rest on my lap.

“Um, wait,” He says and quickly moves over to plug in the patch cord for me and flips on the amp adjusting the levels a bit. I close my eyes for a moment and then I just start to play. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was playing but I was just playing around with the E scale, improvising and just letting the sound take over. He set the gain perfectly. Just the right amount of distortion. It’s not as warm sounding as mine but it sounds amazing. After a few moments I open my eyes and see Chris sitting in front of me, still with that same sweet smile across his lips.

“Holy, what string gauge do you use?” I giggle when I stop and shake my left hand a little.

“12’s… why does it hurt?” He chuckles.

“Just a little,” I giggle and he laughs.

“Here, let me…” He says reaching out for his guitar and I pass it over to him, pushing my curls out of my eyes. He rests it across his lap, getting into the perfect position, as his curls fall down around him, he starts to play. At first it was just some random playing much like I was doing, and then it started to change.

“Oh, darling, please believe me, I’ll never do you no harm Believe me when I tell you I’ll never do you no harm… Oh, darling, if you leave me I’ll never make it alone Believe me when I beg you Don’t ever leave me alone…”

His voice immediately made everything inside my body flutter like butterflies. So bluesy and full of emotion that I had never heard before. I had never felt before.

“When you told me you didn’t need me anymore Well you know I nearly broke down and cried When you told me you didn’t need me anymore Well you know I nearly fell down and died Oh, darling, please believe me I’ll never let you down Believe me when I tell you I’ll never… do you… no harm…”

He hangs on to the last note and then stops, a for a moment. He doesn’t look at me, though I’m completely focused on him. A few seconds tick by and he flips those beautiful curls out of his face, his silver hoop earring sparkling in the soft bedroom light and flicks his eyes to me while we could hear everyone still laughing and carrying on out in the living room. He moves his Gibson off his lap and leans to set it back on the stand and just as he did so, I couldn’t resist shifting up on my knees and moving closer while he flick his eyes back to mine, cupping his clean shaven face in both my palms and placing my lips on his.

For a moment, I could tell I caught him off guard but then he slowly started to respond, placing his hands on my hips as I slowly began to suck on his full pouty bottom lip, his tongue swiping across my bottom lip and by then I needed to deepen the kiss just a little, my tongue playing with his as my heart began to race like I never thought it could. His kiss is so new and yet so familiar, like the sort of passion between 2 people that has been building up over years of knowing each other but both afraid to make the first move. I this case I was the one to make the move because I couldn’t hold back any longer. It was incredible.

Chris then shifted a little, pulling me in closer for me to straddle him as he leans back against his bed, his hands moving down my thighs and lifting up the bottom of my already short dress even higher. As nervous as I began to feel, somehow he was able to make me feel comfortable as if we had done this before. I find myself threading my fingers through his soft thick curls as his lips move hungrily with mine.

“Chris?” I breathe when I part my lips from his for a moment and he touches his forehead to mine.

“Yea,” He exhales as he closes his eyes for a moment.

“I know I said I wanted to pretend that this is our actual first meeting but, I just want to know… are we together… In your time I mean, are we together?”He lifts his forehead from mine and looks into my eyes, a gentle smile spreading across his beautiful lips as he brushes a few curls from my face.

“Yea… well we never made anything official though. You always told me that we were together in your time, but you wouldn’t really tell me too much about us. No matter how many times I tried to get you to tell me more you wouldn’t because you didn’t want to mess up any sort of timeline by telling me the future,” He explains so sweetly. In actuality, I never really believed that, I only just tried to let things happen as they did as to lead a normal life. The only time I ever felt the need to tell someone the future was if it was a life or death situation for obvious reasons.

“So um… we know each other pretty well then?” I ask closing my eyes and touching my forehead to his.

“Uh huh… You’re my best friend. I’ve been in love with you since I was 15 years old,”

“You’re in love… with me?”

He gives me that coy smile of his and I find myself pressing my lips to his once more, intensifying the kiss. It wasn’t long before he figured out the mechanics of my dress and I realize just how long he has waited for me. *****************************************************************************************

#time travel #Time After Time #soundgarden #soundgarden fanfiction #chris cornell #chris cornell fanfiction #alternate universe #spinoff #mother love bone #andrew wood #fantasy #also on wattpad #also on ao3 #my story

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kitsune-og · 4 years ago

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5, 8, 25, 26, 34, 57, 58, 74, 89, 95, 111, 117, 141 - connor, maxy, preston (lol enjoy)

Ye Olde Muse asks

OC: Connor Walsh

5. Tell me about your first kiss? Back when I was in Junior High, some girl was trying to steal the last chocolate milk. I knew she had a crush on me, so I went up to her, grabbed and kissed her, then stole the milk and pushed her over.

8. Do you think you’re attractive? Bitch please, of course I am. Have you seen me?

25. What do you like most about yourself? Apart from my impressive metabolism, I like my drive. I work hard towards the things that I want and I always get them.

26. What do you like least about yourself? It’s a bit of a stretch, but I hate the way I was raised. I don’t want to go into details, but my parents are shit.

34. Do you love or hate being alone? I prefer being alone, but I still like company. Having a sibling in my house has actually turned out to be pleasant.

57. What’s your morning or nightly routine? Hmm, my morning routine is getting up at 6am, having coffee and breakfast, hitting the gym by 7 and then heading to university. I don’t really have a night routine.

58. What’s your favorite genre of music? If you were to make someone a playlist that just gets you, name of songs that would be on it. I don’t have a favourite genre, but upbeat songs over 130bpm are good. My playlist would be full of workout jams and some old school rock; How You Like That - Blackpink, Stupid Love - Lady Gaga, Helena - MCR, Cherry Pie - Warrant, Poison - Alice Cooper.

74. Any kinks? Plenty. You could say I’m well versed in the kink scene.

89. What does your room look like? Pretty standard, I guess? King sized bed, guitar in the corner, overflowing drawers, TV, bookshelves stuffed with random crap. Need to get a new rug though, and more pillows.

95. What’s your strangest hobby, if you have one? That’s for me and Lissa to know.

111. What is your favorite childhood story of yourself? The time I tried to jump of my friend’s roof is pretty hilarious. His bedroom was on the second floor and you could climb out the window and chill on the roof, right above the pool. One night, hyped up on sugar and Coke, we decided to jump off the roof into the pool. I went first, landed perfectly in the deep end, managed not to break anything. He pussied out and I got my revenge by shoving him off the roof. He broke his arm.

117. What is your favorite form of self expression? I love tattoos. I have several and plans for many more.

141. Describe yourself in 6 words? Chaotic, handsome, rich, ripped, sex god.

OC: Maxy Sanchez

5. Tell me about your first kiss? Uh, my ex girlfriend Misa was my first kiss. It was really nice.

8. Do you think you’re attractive? Not really, but I’m not ugly. I’m like average.

25. What do you like most about yourself? I dunno, I guess I’m funny? My partners seem to think so.

26. What do you like least about yourself? My stupid, depressed brain.

34. Do you love or hate being alone? I hate being alone, but I don’t really have to worry about that any more, due to living with Cora.

57. What’s your morning or nightly routine? I don’t really have a routine, I just roll out of bed, have breakfast, live my life and then flop into bed at night.

58. What’s your favorite genre of music? If you were to make someone a playlist that just gets you, name of songs that would be on it. I love chill music! My playlist would be full of like Radiohead, Muse, BTS, Conan Gray, Dodie and Niall Horan.

74. Any kinks? Um, haha, yeah? I have some... Nate and Cora know them. I’m a bottom.

89. What does your room look like? It’s full of yellow and white furniture. Cora helped me add a chalkboard wall and we drew some sunflowers in one corner. Nate says my room is soft like me. I have some of his and Cora’s artwork on the walls and a bookshelf crammed full of books to read. My bed is really soft and I have piles of fluffy blankets and cushions and stuffed animals.

95. What’s your strangest hobby, if you have one? I dunno if it’s a hobby, but I kinda collect sunflower things. Anything cute with sunflowers I always wanna buy. I have a cushion, a bunch of fake sunflowers, artwork, some yellow makeup that Cora got for me that has sunflowers on it, tops, hoodies, all sorts.

111. What is your favorite childhood story of yourself? It was kind of funny when I found out that I was really badly allergic to bees. My mom took me to this flower park when I was ten and I was running around the flowers, and then all of a sudden I saw this bee hive. So I go up to it and this bee comes flying right at me, but I thought bees were cool so I just held out a flower and tried to get it to land on me. The bee comes over to my flower and then suddenly a bunch of bees are surrounding me and rubbing on me and I started getting really itchy. And then when I dropped the flower to itch my hand, I must have upset a bee because it stung me. And immediately, I just started having this really bad reaction and I was covered in hives and my face got really swollen and I couldn’t breathe properly. Luckily, my mom carries epipens because she’s allergic to almonds so I didn’t die. But since then, I’ve hated bees.

117. What is your favorite form of self expression? I love singing! I sing in the shower, when I’m tidying the house, when I’m working on uni work and I drag Cora and Nate to karaoke all the time. Cora likes to sing BTS with me and she showed me the DRR machines that have kpop.

141. Describe yourself in 6 words? Depressapuff! It’s the word I came up with for myself because I’m a depressed Hufflepuff. (I know it’s not 6 words but idk what else).

OC: Preston Haynes

5. Tell me about your first kiss? God, I hardly remember it. It was with some girl way back when, she was a terrible kisser and her lips were covered in sticky gloss.

8. Do you think you’re attractive? Yes, why wouldn’t I? I own a mirror.

25. What do you like most about yourself? I like the body I was given. It’s very well toned, attractive, slim without being too lanky.

26. What do you like least about yourself? Hm. Nothing.

34. Do you love or hate being alone? I like being alone, but I also crave affection and sex. Honestly, I’m happy either way.

57. What’s your morning or nightly routine? I don’t really have any. In the morning, I get up and have coffee, go work out, shower, come home for breakfast, have more coffee and then continue with my day. At night, I wash my face, occasionally get in a second work out and shower, and go to bed.

58. What’s your favorite genre of music? If you were to make someone a playlist that just gets you, name of songs that would be on it. Classic rock and songs to have sex to. My playlist would have songs like Back In Black - AC/DC, Under the Graveyard - Ozzy Osbourne, Enter Sandman - Metallica, Walk This Way - Aerosmith, Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon, Side to Side - Ariana Grande, Freak - Doja Cat, S&M - Rihanna.

74. Any kinks? Almost all of them. I’m a very well rounded kinkster.

89. What does your room look like? It’s currently a bit of a mess as I’ve just moved. But it has some artwork on the walls, black matching furniture, 45″ TV, a display of my favourite whips and crops, and a floor length mirror.

95. What’s your strangest hobby, if you have one? A lot of my hobbies are considered strange. But perhaps the strangest one is collecting sex toys to display.

111. What is your favorite childhood story of yourself? I don’t remember much of my childhood.

117. What is your favorite form of self expression? Tattoos and/or piercings.

141. Describe yourself in 6 words? Attractive, deathly and better than you.

#ic asks #oc: connor walsh #oc: max sanchez #oc: preston haynes #connor: headcanons #maxy: headcanons #preston: headcanons #lunakit #lunamoons #I hate connor sm lol #but i also love him

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just-a-spark · 4 years ago

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The Before, and The After Part 8

A Knives Out Story

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (18+ to be safe)

Summery: A wealthy classmate of Meg’s becomes close to the family, a little too close to the playboy grandson of Harlan Thrombey. The events leading up to, and following, Harlan Thrombey’s death.

The man with the southern drawl approached Elizabeth and Phil curiously, taking them in with a new sort of interest, “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting, “I am Detective Benoit Blanc, and you two are?”

“I’m Phillip Stevens, my father,” he gestured toward the house, “has been the family’s attorney for years. This is my wife Elizabeth. We came over because Elizabeth had some insight on the case, which she reported to-”

“Lieutenant Elliott.” Elizabeth supplied weakly, ducking her head to avoid Blanc’s gaze.

“She told him everything she knew regarding the case and then... some indiscretions on her part were found out by the family.” Blanc raised his eyebrow and Phil continued, “Her and Harlan were writing letters back and forth, some of... interesting nature.”

“Oh, well, now I’m very intrigued. You must have known Harlan very well then? If you don’t mind, Mrs. Stevens, I would love to ask you a few questions myself. Probably a lot of what you already told Lt. Elliott, but if you’d be so kind as to oblige it would be of great help to the investigation.”

“Uh huh.” Lizzie said quietly, looking from her husband to Blanc, “I’ll talk to you, but you alone. I don’t want the rest of the family anywhere around.”

“We can arrange for us to have a private meeting of the minds, I can assure you.” Blanc promised, guiding Elizabeth back into the house, “We can meet in Harlan’s study-”

“Could we speak in the library? If it’s just the two of us.” Elizabeth asked, seeing her opportunity to get her book back. “The office is so stuffy and I’m feeling a little faint.”

“I didn’t realize you were so familiar with the house, but that’ll do. Lieutenant Elliott, if you don’t mind, please clear out the library and make sure the Thrombeys give us a wide berth. Mrs. Stevens and I may discuss some things of...a delicate nature.”

“You got it, Benny.” Elliott said, leading the way back into the house to clear a path as Benoit walked slowly beside Elizabeth.

As they walked up the steps, he noticed her holding her stomach with a pained look on her face, “Are you not feeling well, ma’am?”

“I’m pregnant. Morning sickness is lasting all day.” She eeked out and the man’s face brightened.

“Congratulations! I’m sorry you’ve been sucked into such a whirlpool of misery during this happy time.” Blanc told her as they passed by Linda and Walter being corralled by Elliott. Blanc took note of Linda’s sharp expression and the way Elizabeth reacted to it with an open face of shame. Once they were in the library, Blanc directed her toward Harlan’s ring of knives, but she plopped herself down in the back left corner by a chess board. “Alright, you play?”

“A little. I don’t need to now.” Elizabeth answered, suddenly less nervous and more calculated. She looked over her shoulder thoughtfully, studying the books beside her and plucked one out, then handed it to Blanc, “In case you’d like to see what all the fuss is about.”

Blanc flipped through the pages until he noticed handwriting scribbled in the bottom right corner, then squinted to read the cursive as Elizabeth subtly pulled her white bound book from the second shelf from the bottom. When Blanc looked up at her in surprise, she let go of the book and coughed loudly to cover the thunk. “I’m sorry. Could I- maybe get some water?”

Blanc stared at her, as if to size her up, but nodded slowly, “I shall grab you a glass. Wait here.” As he stood, she watched him clear the rounded entryway and quickly scooped up the book and placed it into her large bag. When Blanc returned, she felt more relaxed and ready to talk.

“The family thinks I was sleeping with Harlan, which I wasn’t...” She trailed off as Blanc leaned far to the side to study the bookshelf, “What are you doing?”

“There’s a most suspicious looking gap in the bookshelf that wasn’t there before.” He raised his steely eyes to meet hers, “This will be a lot easier if you just hand it over now.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but reached into her bag, producing the white book for the detective. He took it graciously and she leaned back, folding her arms and closing herself off again, which caused him to smirk, “So this is why you wanted to have this conversation in the library, you knew exactly what you needed to take. But why?”

“I don’t want the family to read any more.” She said quietly as Blanc flipped through the book, finding the center full of handwritten notes framed by printed words. “Those are private.”

Blanc’s eyes scanned the pages and widened slightly before his expression changed to one of understanding, “I see why.”

“Harlan was my mentor, and my friend. It was a writing exercise, it helped me a lot.” Elizabeth paused, her cheeks heating as he continued to read, “I’m sure you can see why I didn’t want the family to find out.”

“You know, something I have found over the years, is people often put both their initials when they sign things, yet not a single one of these letters is signed HT. I wonder why?” Blanc questioned and Elizabeth shrugged nonchalantly.

“I don’t know. He wrote first and I followed his lead. It became a game.”

“Linda said Harlan loved to play games, so that fits his character, but I have such a hard time believing these stories are fiction. Often H talks about characters who sound terribly similar to some of the members of the Thrombey household.” Blanc challenged and Elizabeth leaned forward, resting her elbows on the chess table so her hair hung over the book.

“People write about what they know-”

“It’s a very specific viewpoint, and coming back to my initial observation, it becomes very apparent that Eliza’s beau isn’t Harlan Thrombey at all. The reason he never signed his last initial is because it’s different from the man he was trying to imitate.” Blanc leaned in so they were close and Elizabeth didn’t ease up, so Blanc added, “The H isn’t for Harlan, it’s for Hugh.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, trying to think of a suitable lie to cover her tracks, but the detective wouldn’t think less of her for her secret affair, so she took a chance and trusted him, “My parents didn’t approve of him. He didn’t want to appear off the market. We kept it a secret from everyone except Harlan. I’m sure his family never considered it could be Hugh... we’ve gone to great lengths to make them believe I hate him. He makes it very easy.”

Blanc leaned back and crossed his leg, closing the book and picking up the queen piece, “So, his family doesn’t know?”

“No. Nobody knows. My parents pushed for me to marry Phillip, so I did. I broke things off with Ransom after the engagement.”

Blanc nodded at her explanation, “So you wanted to steal the book back so his family and your husband would never know.”

“I was afraid he’d written something about the last time we were together. I... didn’t want my husband reading it.” Elizabeth admitted, running her fingers through her red hair. “Hugh and I had a very passionate relationship, but it was never meant to last. He’s not very driven.”

“Oh, I have gathered that.” Blanc replied with wide eyes and Lizzie chuckled a little, surprised by how light she felt after sharing her secret, but Blanc wasn’t done questioning her yet, “When was the last time you saw Mr. Hugh Drysdale?”

September 30th- The Night Before the Wedding

Lizzie locked herself in the extra bedroom of Phil’s country home. He decided to spend the evening at his parents house so as not to see his bride before the wedding, allowing her one final night alone.

This was to be her home. It was warm and bright and it felt like a prison. Panic began rising in her chest as she leaned her back against the door, willing herself not to cry but losing.

Tomorrow she’d arrive at the Stevens’ home, and marry Phil in a small backyard ceremony. Something small and intimate, so there’d be no excuse to invite any acquaintances. At the time it made the marriage easier, but now as it approached, it was suffocating. Nobody would be around to save her, to object and sweep her away. If she wanted to run, she’d have to do it herself.

Lizzie pulled a purple button up over her grey tank top and pulled on her tennis shoes, then went sprinting down the stairs of her home. When she reached the last step, she paused, realizing that if she took her car, they’d be able to track her. Even if she brought her phone, they’d be able to figure out where she went. If Lizzie wanted to run, she had to leave it all behind.

She casually looked at the security camera in the corner and turned around to go back upstairs. The foyer, living room, kitchen, and Phil’s office all had motion activated security cameras installed. She’d tested their boundaries since moving in, knowing exactly where the blind spots were.

She pulled open a drawer and her old college yearbook, opening to the Freshman page and pulling out a folded piece of paper. Opening it, she read the familiar messy writing, Just in Case, followed by an address. In a private tab on her phone, she typed in the address, and wrote the directions down on the paper so she could leave her phone, disappearing without a trace.

She locked the bedroom door, then cracked open the window, surveying the climb down. If she kept close to the building and made her way toward the trees, she should be able to stay out of sight. So she carefully climbed out, closing the window behind her as she slowly began to scale the side of the white house. She suddenly felt very guilty for all those days Ransom had climbed up the side for her, because doing it herself was absolutely terrifying.

When she finally reached the ground, she sat by the house for a moment, hearing a car driving down the driveway toward the front of the house. “Shit.” She mumbled, knowing she couldn’t get away without being seen, so she lifted her head toward the faint whinny from the barn.

Darting away from the house to the barn, but carefully staying out of the cameras views until she was inside the stable. The horse Phil had gotten for her, a young black Arabian with an even temper and a beautiful coat, snorted when he saw her, and she put her finger to her lips to hush him. Lizzie was thankful Phil cared more about his house than his creatures, because if there had been a camera leading to and inside the stable, Lizzie wouldn’t be able to get away.

“We’re going to go, Beauty.” She whispered to the horse as she scratched the length of his long face, “We’re not coming back.” She quickly grabbed the saddle and cinched him up, then, once his bridle was in place, she led him toward the back door of the stable. As she reached the doors, she looked to the left and saw Phillip’s case of hunting supplies, then slid open the door to see what he had inside. With a hard swallow, she reached in and grabbed a handgun, realizing she didn’t even know how to use it if she needed to. But with no money, no identification, and nothing to her name but this horse, even having it might be enough.

She pushed open the stable door and led her horse out, then closed it quietly, peaking around to see lights on in the kitchen. Phil came home after all, even after promising he wouldn’t.

Lizzie quickly mounted the horse and clicked, giving him slack in an effort to push him on into the night.

Lizzie followed the directions she’d laid out for herself, thankful she’d gone on horseback instead of trying to walk through the woods. They broke through the trees to see a remote white house with massive windows all around. She had no way of telling if this was the right house, seeing as she’s never been there, but the Beamer out front promised she’d find the man she was looking for.

The Cadillac parked next to it warned she may not be welcome.

Lizzie quickly dismounted and tied her horse to a tree at the edge of the treeline near a fresh spot of grass so he could eat while she was away, then continued on foot to the front door of the house.

When she arrived, she knocked loudly, holding her breath. She fluffed out her shirt so it covered the weapon in her pants, but nobody came to the door anyway. She knocked loudly, pounding her fist and finishing with a good kick. Lizzie’s watch told her it was eleven fifteen, but there were lights on downstairs, meaning they were most likely awake, albeit too busy to let her in.

After a while, a blonde woman trotted down the stairs wearing a massive shirt that clearly belonged to Ransom and not her. She came to the door and glared at Lizzie when she opened it, “Can I help you?”

“I need to see Ransom.” Lizzie told her evenly, but the girl just scoffed and rolled her eyes, so Lizzie pushed harder, “Please, it’s an emergency.”

“Yeah, I doubt that. We’re a little busy, so-”

Lizzie slowly reached behind her back and swiftly brandished the gun at the woman’s head, cutting her off mid sentence as she backed into the foyer with her hands up. “I need to see Ransom. And you’re going to leave right now.”

The girl didn’t respond, she just grabbed a phone and some keys on a nearby table and ran out the door, leaving Lizzie to do whatever she intended with Ransom Drysdale and that gun.

As the car sped off, Ransom came barreling down the stairs in sweatpants before stopping in front of the red head, “Eliza?” He looked her up and down, then saw what she was holding, “What are you doing with that?”

She began to quake and Ransom carefully pried the weapon from her hand and leaned over to set it on his table. Once it was gone, Eliza collapsed into his arms and he rubbed her back as she wept openly against his bare chest, “I don’t wanna do this! Please take me away from here, I can’t do this!” She cried as her tears flowed from her eyes and dripped down his torso. Ransom leaned them closer to the door, where he locked it, then shifted to scoop her up and carry her back upstairs.

#knives out #knives out fanfic #knives out fanfiction

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jellybeanbeing · 5 years ago

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History of My Bookshelf Challenge

Created by the amazing Emmmabooks!

1. The oldest book on your shelf - An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir

This is the first physical book I’ve ever gotten and still have. Yes, I only purchased it in 2018 but it’s been about two years so it counts because the other books I have, I got after.

2. A book you read in 2013 (adjust for however many years you like!) - Divergent by Veronica Roth

I’m like, 85% sure I read this in 2013. I think I read it because the movie was coming out and I wanted to read the book first so I could judge the movie, but it’s been like five years and I still haven’t seen it.

3. A book you read in 2014 - Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

I only remember reading this book during this year because I was sitting at a teacher’s desk when someone came up to me and asked me why I was reading the book when it was going to be required reading in the near future. Other than that, I remember liking the book, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t today.

4. A book you read in 2015 - Side Effects May Vary by Julie Murphy

Again, this is one I’m 85% sure I read in 2015. This whole book was a fever dream to me and I kind of want to read it again.

5. A book you read in 2016 - The Fill-In Boyfriend by Kasie West

The one thing that makes me sure I read this in 2016 was because I had made a new friend that year and the characters in the book had the same names as her brothers and I messaged her about it.

6. A book you read in 2017 - A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

2017 was a good reading year for me. Before 2017, I read a lot of YA romantic contemporaries and I wasn’t going to change that until my friend lent me ACOTAR. I was reluctant at first because fantasy isn’t my favorite genre but I gave it a try and I really liked it. I ended up finishing the series and moving to other popular fantasy and otherworldly books.

7. A book you read in 2018 - The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White

This is the year I finally started tracking the books I read. I read about 52 books this year and I’m choosing this one because my experience with it is a semi-interesting one. So I read Frankenstein in class that year and hated it. Found out this book was coming out and showed it to my English teacher who preceded to buy the book, read it, and lent it to me. Said I would probably like it better than the original (because I was open about my feelings of hatred towards the book in class) and turns out, I did! I loved what Kiersten White did with the story and the characters. I was engaged and actually really cared about the characters.

8. A book you read in 2019 - On the Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta

I’m obviously going to talk about this one so here it goes: I honestly don’t know what made me put this book on my TBR but it ended up there somehow (I think Goodreads recommended it to me???? But I’m not too sure). Anyways, I was watching a video from Jessethereader where he deciphers emojis into book titles and one of them was “On the Jellicoe Road” so I took that as a sign to read the book. I read it, was confused for a bit, but then fell head over heels for the story and the characters and everything about it. It’s one of my all-time favorite books now and I’m going to reread it again soon. I’ll try to make a review for it.

9. A book you’ve read more than once - The Raven Boys by Maggie Stievater

Is this a surprise? No. Well, kind of. I’ve only read this book (and series) twice but I’m already planning on rereading it soon and every year after that. It’s my all-time favorite book series and that’s not gonna change for a while. I love the books, I love the characters, I love the story, I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT. And it’s funny because it took me so long just to read The Raven Boys because I kept DNFing it. I picked it up in 2016, read the first three chapters, put it down, and forgot about it. A couple months after that, I picked it up again, read the first three chapters, and decided this book wasn’t for me. Around 2018, I got the sudden urge to read the books and thought “fuck it, I’m reading it and I’m gonna finish the book.” I finished the series and mildly liked it. I got another sudden urge to read the series again this 2019 year and IT BLEW MY FREAKING MIND WITH HOW GOOD IT WAS. I just have so much appreciation for this book and Maggie Stiefvater now, and I love it.

10. A book you waited over a year to be published - A Reaper at the Gates by Sabaa Tahir

This is honestly the only book I’ve waited over a year to come out. I finished Torch in 2016 and I had to wait until 2018 to read Reaper. It was torture. And it’s still torture because we’re all waiting for Ember 4.

11. A book you read on vacation/away from home - Nectar in a Sieve by Kamala Markandaya

I read this for school and I remember going to California for a dance competition and not having a phone or something to entertain me so I took the book with me. For about a week, I read bits and pieces of it before going to bed. One moment I remember so vividly is reading the book on the plane ride back and it being dark and someone telling me to turn off my light because they were trying to sleep. I then proceeded to turn off my light and stare into the darkness because I wasn’t tired and I couldn't read my book. And if you’re wondering, it was one of those planes that didn’t have a TV at every seat.

12. A book you got from someplace special (anything that’s not your local bookstore/online retailer) - Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

My English teacher was retiring and giving away some of his books, and so I decided to rummage through his book and found a special edition of Madame Bovary with gold spray painted edges. It was gorgeous, but I gave it away.

13. A book that made you cry - Mosquitoland by David Arnold

I didn’t cry while reading this book at first, but I went back to read a few passages before giving it away and I don’t know what struck a chord in me but I was crying my eyes out over the book. The passage I had read just resonated with me in that moment and I couldn't help but cry. I read the book before some problems in my life occurred so I guess when I went to read the few parts of the book again, it all hit me real hard.

14. A book you read in one sitting - My Heart and Other Black Holes by Jasmine Warga

This one is a fun one (my experience with the book, not the book itself). So, I was, I think 12 or 13 or 14 years old when I read this. At this particular age, I was a firecracker when reading books. I would finish a book, A FULL 300 PAGE BOOK, in one night. I did this a lot. I’m not exaggerating. I think it’s about more than 20 books that this “finishing in one night” happened. This one though, was crazy. I started this book one night at around 7/8pm and finished it around maybe 12am? I then proceeded to pick up another 300 page book right after AND FINISH IT THAT VERY NIGHT, or morning, whatever you think. My reading energy was off the fucking charts at that age. I can’t do this anymore, by the way. It will literally take me a whole month to finish a 200 page book.

15. A book that was a gift - A Conjuring of Light by V.E Schwab

I had already gotten the book for myself but a friend of mine bought me the book and I couldn’t say no so I took the book and now I have two paperback copies of ACOL, and I’m not mad about it.

16. A book you read before owning (library, borrowed from a friend) - Sula by Toni Morrison

I read for school, and let me tell you, it’s the only book I’ve read for school that I liked and was memorable for a good reason. Right from the first page, it captured my attention and kept it through out the book. I’m planning on rereading it and hopefully I’ll still like it as much as I first did.

17. A book you lent to someone else - Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Six of Crows is a popular YA series but do you know how hard it was to make one of my friends read this and actually finish it? I gave it to like three of my friends and they all ended up telling me they couldn't get past the first couple of chapters. But I finally got one of my friends to read the duology and finish it and love it as much as I did. I finally have a friend I can talk to about the books.

18. A book that has been damaged - The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater

I tend to keep my books in pretty good condition, but I also have butter fingers, so that’s something. Anyways, the amount of times that I have dropped this book and bent the covers is truly astonishing. And it’s bizarre, because whenever I dropped TRB or TDT or BLLB, the covers didn’t bend but when I drop TRK, the cover ALWAYS bends and it’s a whole mess but I still love it. I almost forgot to mention that I got it already fucked up so maybe it’s meant to be.

19. A book you got on sale/discounted - An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir

Yes, I’m using this book again because, why not? Anyways, I got this at a thrift store and I was so psyched. I saw this book on the shelf and was so appalled because who would thrift such a good book? (If you didn’t like the book, great. That’s your opinion.) So I decided that this was my chance to finally own a book after years of not owning one, and have it be one of my favorite books.

20. A book you read with someone else (buddy read/read with a book club) - The Refugees by Viet Thanh Nguyen

I take this question to also include books I have read as required reading in class because technically, I did read it with my class. I had such a fun time picking at this book. It was not my favorite book, though I really liked the first story. My English teacher had us write commentary and I loved it. There was no literary analysis whatsoever in my notes, and I think that’s what I loved the most. I reread my notes for that book recently and they are gems.

21. A book you associate with a song - A Study in Charlotte by Brittany Cavallaro

When the Party’s Over by Billie Eilish is just a song that I associated with Charlotte Holmes, and that’s never gonna change.

22. A book you associate with a food - Queen of Air and Darkness by Cassandra Clare

It’s not a specific food but more of school lunch for me. I just remember that QOAAD had come out and I was carrying that hunk of a book around and it didn’t fit in my backpack so I carried it in my arms. I was reading the book while my friend was eating her lunch beside me. After she finished eating, I had told her that there were pictures in the book and I wanted to be surprise but she wasn’t gonna read it so she flipped through the book and looked at the pictures.

23. A book you got years ago that you probably wouldn’t buy now - The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

I got this book in Chicago this 2019 year around May only so it’ s not years ago, but I was a different person in May 2019, alright? I honestly wouldn’t get this book now because I’ve learned that I’m not a big history fan.

24. A book you associate with a specific time in your life - Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson

I was first introduced to this book a long time ago, around the age of 9, I think? My sister had a stack of books from school and I decided to look through it. I read a book called Hushi(?) and I literally, for the life of me, cannot remember who the author was but I really liked that book. Anyways, after reading that, I read bits and pieces of Speak and I vividly remember the day being a bright and sunny day, and reading the attack scene and being so shocked by it. I didn’t really understand it at the time, but every time I read that book or see it, it brings me back to when I was nine.

25. A book you used to like, but don’t anymore - The First Time She Drowned by Kerry Kletter

I talked about this book in another post of mine but it reiterate what I said: this book was a favorite of mine in 2018 but then I reread it again and didn't love it as much. It wasn’t a book that fully captured my attention or kept me intrigued.

26. The newest book on your shelf - Call Down the Hawk by Maggie Stiefvater

LAST QUESTION! Call Down the Hawk came out recently and you know I had to buy it. I’m currently reading it right now, and I’m already loving it. I’m so excited for what’s in store for the characters. I am, however, feeling a little bit sad because we won’t get to see the whole Gangsey together again (or for a while). Reading CDTH is also making me realize that those who haven’t read The Raven Cycle aren’t going to know the Ronan and Adam and Gansey and Blue that those who have read TRC know them. I don’t say this to be offensive or “you’re not a true fan because you didn’t read TRC”. No, I’m not trying to say that. It’s just like you meeting someone when you’re both 30 as opposed to 14. People are different people at different ages, and Ronan and Adam are different characters in CDTH than TRC and so some people who haven't read TRC series won’t know that version of them. And also, I mean different as in they’ve grown and certain aspects of them have changed.

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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 61]

Pls story. I just want to get out of the sidequest. I’m just going to go until I finish up the sidequest. It’s been too long.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

“Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.