#oh to have visible proof of my severe anxiety | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smallrainclouds · 3 years ago

Text

Tangled starlights

(working title)

Also hc that Hypnos is also working when he sleeping, he does his job as God of sleep. He can also do a normal sleep so he can get rest. But he doesn't get nearly as much he needs.

Part four of marriage AU

No beta.

🌙💤💤🌙

You stood in the dusty room as Hypnos floated around, lighting the candles on the walls.

You didn't think you would return to this room. Not after what happened a few days ago. Your stomach twisted in anxiety. You weren't upset exactly but you didn't expect such a strong response.

"And no one has kept up with the library?" You asked. You didn't want to think about *it* right now.

You walked along the shelfs, the scrolls seemed to be calling for you.

"Mother made this place before Hades took over the house for her and he didn't deem any of this stuff important." He replied, and pointed to a door at the far end of the room.

Hypnos waved a hand around. "There are more in that room also. When she was younger, she used to collect as many stories and knowledge as she could. But she never took the time to actually organize it."

Hypnos lit the last candle and floated down to stand. He kept some distance between You and him. Only his bright eyes followed you around the room as you wondered.

"If you don't want to, it's totally fine. This is a lot-"

"N-no. I want to!" You shook your head. "I helped Athens with her library the few times she needed to update it."

You stopped and turned with a smile. "Also I like a good story and I don't doubt that your mother has some great ones in here."

Hypnos returned your smile and you tried not to think about how close he was last night.

"Great! I'll get Dusa to help you clean up the dust in here." He glanced around the room, "And maybe some chairs and tables."

"Yes. Might be helpful." You teased him. And felt a little warm at his laugh.

🌙💤💤🌙

Several hours in and you were bone tired and dusty.

So.Very.Dusty.

"Hey Dusa! How is it looking up there?" You called out. Dusa quickly floated to You. Her green, shiny skin was now dark gray with dust but that didn't stop the beaming smile.

You smiled back, already so fond of Dusa. It felt like You had spent a day with one of your sisters.

"I think we got all the dust! I'm just sorry we had to remove all the scrolls out of their place." She glanced at the piles of scrolls in the corner, carefully stacked together.

You shook your head, "It's okay. I've been told it was already a bit of a mess so no harm done."

"O-oh good!" She bobbed in the air. " I think-"

"Oh wow, I didn't realize we had so many scrolls." An male voice drifted through the door.

You and Dusa both turned toward the door, surprised at the visitor.

Zagreus stood, hands on hips as he looked at the pile that loomed over him.

"O-oh Prince! Be careful!" Dusa rushed over to him. You followed, of course he will show up when you and Dusa were both a mess.

"Don't worry, I won't touch it." Zagreus smiled at You. " Sorry for coming at a bad time. I heard from Mother Nyx that Hypnos' wife was taking over the library. And I realized I haven't induced myself yet. I'm Zagreus.

"My name is Y/N and I would shake your hand but…" You held up your hands, covered in dust and grime.

"Of course. If you ever need anything, just let me know." Zagreus' mismatched eyes studied your face as he said it.

"Thank you, Prince Zagreus. Dusa has been an amazing help already." You tilted your head to Dusa who blushed.

"O-oh it is not a problem! I'm happy to help!" Dusa murmured.

"Dusa is amazing isn't she? Our hardest worker for sure." Zagreus praised, he sounded so proud of her.

"Oh oh my, excuse me! I- I need to get cleaned up." Dusa rushed out, her blush visible even with the dust

"Oh dear." Zagreus said. "We might have been a bit much. But it is good that she hears it. Goodness knows Father doesn't understand how hard she works for this house."

You weren't quite sure what to say. You didn't want to take sides yet or ever if it can be avoided. You have seen too many times what happens when two gods get into a fight with each other.

"You'll have to forgive me but Dusa is right. A hot bath sounds like a dream right now." You smiled at him, glad for the excuse.

"Of course! I will leave you to it, Y/N!" Zagreus nodded and waved goodbye as he left.

You sighed. Hopefully this room will be worth the trouble.

🌙💤💤🌙

You couldn't remember the last time you felt so relaxed. There was nothing like a hot bath, you mused.

You tore off a part of the warm bread and popped it into your mouth. You eyed the pomegranate but went for the olive. Save the best for last you thought.

You laid on top of the covers, feeling like the most spoiled being alive. You went for another olive.

What a day. But at least you were moving forward and now there was a job for you to do.

inevitably, you thought about Hypnos. He was still at work, you last heard. You knew he slept on the job but that wasn't a rest. Not really.

You thought about what he said before. How being more powerful than your sisters. No one ever said that, why would they? It is clear what the gods liked.

Hermes may have the only exception (at least until Hypnos) that enjoyed her powers but even then he never said what Hypnos did.

Hermes had always pushed a little more, made her try harder to be a little more quick and clever. Your older brother in everything but blood. Hermes had been one of the few people You missed other than your sisters.

He did travel to the underworld sometimes. Maybe you could see him again. Give him letters for your sisters.

Your eyes drifted closed, the dark red

canopy were the last thing you saw before sleep overtook You.

🌙💤💤🌙

There were sounds outside your door. You blinked at the candles by your bedside. They were much lower than before you went to sleep. The only sign that any time had passed at all.

You frowned at your door. It sounded like an argument. You stood and quietly walked to the door. You pressed your ear against it.

But the bloody thing was so thick, you weren't sure what was being said.

But you weren't going to just stand there especially after being woken up so rudely. You looked around your chambers for a weapon. Just in case.

You frowned when you realized there was nothing. You would just have to be ready to slam the doors.

With a deep breath, you pushed your bedchambers open.

The two men outside went quiet. Hypnos and another man You didn't know stood before you.

"Great, just great. Now look at what you did." Hypnos snapped at the other man.

"Me?" The man snapped back. He was about the same height as Hypnos but unlike Hypnos he wore only dark colors. His scythe loomed over all three as it gleamed even the candlelight.

"Yes you!" Hypnos grumbled. He turned to You, his normal smile gone. And you couldn't help but notice how much deeper the black circles have gotten.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. You will have to forgive us for our lack of manners. You can go back to sleep now." Hypnos turned back to the man. "Brother, I think our 'little talk' is done for now. You should be getting back to work right?" Hypnos' tone was sharp.

You didn't realize he could sound like that. Also brother?

The man frowned, and looked at You then at Hypnos.

"Fine, but you have a duty to the house. You need to grow up at some point."

Then he turned on his foot and walked away.

Once he was out of sight, Hypnos sighed as he looked at you. He was floating, the candles highlighted his face.

"I didn't know you had a brother." You stepped out of your bedchambers. You were only in a draped linen gown, a little inappropriate but you were too curious not to know.

"Two brothers, Thanatos and Charon. You just 'met' my twin, Thanatos." Hypnos said.

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice and your heart twisted. You will ask more about his brothers later.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" You felt silly asking the god of sleep if he got any rest. But those dark circles were all the proof you needed.

"Sure, I fall asleep on all time especially on the job!" Hypnos' smiled meanly, his hands spread out in a mock shrug.

"I mean real sleep." You crossed your arms. "Surely, the naps you take aren't enough."

Almost out of nowhere, a thought came.

"Wait, what exactly are you doing when you napping?" You asked.

Hypnos raised an eyebrow and silent took over.

"Does it matter?" He finally responded.

"It matters. At least to me." You didn't know what to make of this whole argument. There was something you were missing but you don't know what.

Hypnos was silent as he stopped floating. He walked closer, his light golden eyes not leaving your own eyes. You resisted stepping back, staying in place with your arms crossed. You cursed how warm you felt when Hypnos stopped in front of you.

"My brother is the God of Death. He gets those last few minutes of a human's life. Unbelievably terrifying for those poor humans I imagine." Hypnos leaned forward, his hand pressed against the wall, next to your waist.

You could feel a blush crawl up your neck and cheeks. "And what do you get?" You asked, hating the small tremble in your voice.

"One third. Sometimes more than that. Slowly over the years. When I sleep, I can go to humans and give them sleep or take away any sleep they want."

Hypnos' eyes were beautiful and you felt so exposed.

"So you haven't been getting much real sleep at all." You said, tearing your eyes away. On impulse, you reached up to touch the obol. You heard his breath hitched.

You had to put a stop to this. Or you would do something very foolish.

"Right then come along." You grabbed his wrist and pulled him into your bedchamber.

"Ah…" Hypnos sounded unsure.

"You need some sleep. I can't trust that you will if I leave you alone in your bedroom." Your blush was getting worse. "Also I doubt I will be able to get any more sleep. So I'm just going to keep an eye on you while I finish up some letters."

You cleared off the bed and gestured towards your bed.

Hypnos just stood there. "You don't-"

You waved his words away. "No one will bother you in here, so just try to get a nap in."

You sat down at your desk, feeling very foolish. You grabbed a blank paper and started writing down tasks for the library.

You heard Hypnos moved around and settled in your bed. You thought you heard him murmured something but didn't turned around to look.

Eventually you heard his soft breathing. This time you did look. He didn't get under the cover but did take one of the pillows and was on the opposite side you slept on.

If anyone asked why you allowed this, you just say you were helping your husband as a wife should.

Nothing more, nothing less.

You nodded, and tried not to think how your heart fluttered earlier.

🌙💤💤🌙

Your eyes blinked open. Frowning in confusion, you looked down at your papers. A blanket slipped off your shoulders and pooled around your feet.

Last night ( or day) memories flooded back. You had fell asleep at your desk.

You turned to look at your bed but Hypnos was gone. You didn't like how disappointed you felt. No need for that for that, you scolded yourself. You grapped the blanket to return it.

Only when you got closer, did you see what Hypnos left behind.

On the bed, a bottle of nectar and a note was tucked under the bottle.

'Thanks.' No name or anything, not that You needed one.

There was however a picture of an smiling face next to it.

"Oh Hypnos." You laughed.

Oh...

Oh dear what have You gotten yourself into to?

🌙💤💤🌙

#hypnos x reader #hades game #hades hypnos #this fic had taken over my life #the brothers love each other #they just having a rough patch rn #Hypnos could be bit of a jerk though #i love him

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brawltogethernow · 4 years ago

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So, I don't think I've ever asked you this... what IS the whole point of the Spider-Sense? It really seems like something that only exists for writers to ignore or work around when they want to inject Legit Tension into a story.

I’ve thought about this power so much, but never with an eye to defend its right to exist, so I needed to think about this. The results could be more concise.

Ironically, given the question, I have to say its main purpose is to ramp up tension. But it’s also a highly variable multitool that a skilled creative team can use for...pretty much anything. It does everything the writer wants it to, while for its wielder always falls just short of doing enough.

I went looking through my photos for a really generic, classic-looking example to use as an image to head this topic, but then I ran into the time Peter absolutely did not reimburse this man for his stolen McDonald’s, so have that instead.

A Scare Chord, But You Can Draw It

That one post that says the spider-sense is just super-anxiety isn’t, like, wrong. It’s a very anxious, dramatic storytelling tool originally designed for a very anxious, dramatic protagonist. I find it speaks to the overall tone of the franchise that some characters are functionally psychics, but with a psychic ability that only points out problems.

Spidey sense pinging? There’s danger, be stressed! Broken? Now the lead won’t even KNOW when there’s a problem, scary! Single character is immune to it? That’s an invisible knife in the dark oh my god what the fuck what the fU--

Like its counterpart in garden variety anxiety, the only time the spider-sense reduces tension is in the middle of a crisis. But in the wish fulfillmenty way that you want in an adventure story to justify exaggerated action sequences, the same way enhanced strength or durability does. Also like those, it would theoretically make someone much safer to have it, but it exists in the story to let your character navigate into and weather more dangerous situations.

For its basic role in a story, a danger sense is a snappy way to rile up both the reader and the protagonist that doesn’t offer much information beyond that it’s time to sit smart because shit is about to go down.

Spidey comic canon is all over the board in quality and genre, and it started needing to subvert its formulas before the creators got a handle on what those formulas even were, and basically no one has read anything approaching most of it at this point, so for consistent examples of a really bare bones use of this power in storytelling, I’d point to the property that’s done the best job yet of boiling down the mechanics of Spider-Man to their absolute most basic essentials for adaptation to a compelling monster of the week TV series.

Or as you probably know it, Danny Phantom. DON’T BOO, I’M RIGHT.

DP is Spider-Man with about 2/3 of the serial numbers filed off and no death (ironically), and Danny’s ghost sense is the most proof in the formula example of what the spidey sense is for: It’s a big sign held up for the viewer that says, “Something is wrong! Pay attention!” Effectively a visual scare chord. It’s about That Drama. And it works, which won it a consistent place in the show’s formula. We’re talking several times an episode here.

So why does it work?

It’s a little counterintuitive, but it’s strong storytelling to tell your audience that something bad is going to happen before it does. A vague, punchy spoiler transforms the ignorant calm before a conflict into a tense moment of anticipation. ...And it makes sure people don’t fail to absorb the beginning of said conflict because they weren’t prepared to shift gears when the scene did. Shock is a valuable tool, too, but treating it like a staple is how you burn out your audience instead of keeping them engaged. Not to go after an easy target, but you need to know how to manage your audience’s alarm if you don’t want to end up like Game of Thrones.

The limits of the spider-sense also keep you on your toes when handled by a smart writer. It tells Peter (everyone’s is a little different, so I’m going to cite the og) about threats to his person, but it doesn’t elaborate with any details when it’s not already obvious why, what kind, and from what. And it doesn’t warn him about anything else-- Which is a pretty critical gap when you zoom out and look at his hero career’s successes and failures and conclude that it’s definitely why he’s lived as long as he has acting the way he does, but was useless as he failed to save a string of people he’d have much rather had live on than him.

(Any long-running superhero mythos has these incidents, but with Peter they’re important to the core themes.)

And since this power is by plot for plot (or because it’s roughly agreed it only really blares about threats that check at least two boxes of being major, immediate, or physical), it always kicks in enough to register when the danger is bearing down...when it’s too late to actually do anything about it if “anything” is a more complex action than “dodge”.

Really? Not until the elevator doors started to open?

That Distinctive, Crunchy Spider Flavor

The spider-sense and its little pen squiggles go hand in hand with wallcrawling (and its unique and instantly identifiable associated body language) to make the Spider-Person powerset enduringly iconic and elevate characters with it from being generic mid-level super-bricks. Visually, but also in how it shapes the story.

I said it can share a narrative role with super strength. But when you end a fight and go home, super strength continues to make your character feel powerful, probably safer than they’d be otherwise, maybe dangerous.

The spider-sense just keeps blaring, “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! God, why aren’t you doing something about this!?”

Pretty morose thing to live with, for a safety net! Kind of a double edged sword you have there! Could be constantly being hyperattuned to problems would prime you for a negative outlook on life. Kind of seems like a power that would make it impossible for a moral person to take a day off, leading them into a beleaguered and resentful yet dutiful attitude about the whole superhero gig! Might build up to some of the core traits of this mythos, maybe! Might lead to a lot of fifteen minute retirement stories, or something. Might even be a built in ‘great responsibility’ alarm that gets you a main character who as a rule is not going to stop fighting until he physically cannot fight anymore.

Certainly not apropos of anything, just throwing this short lived barely-a-joke tagline up for fun.

One of my personal favorite things about stories with superpowers is keeping in mind how they cause the people who have them to act in unusual ways outside of fights, so when you tell me that these people have an entire extra sense that tells them when the gas in their house is leaking through a barely useful hot/cold warning system that never turns off, I’m like, eyes emojis, popcorn out, notebook open, listening intently, spectacles on, the whole deal.

It also contributes to Peter Parker’s personality in a way I really enjoy: It allows him to act like an irrational maniac. When you know exactly when a situation becomes dangerous and how much, normal levels of caution go out the window and absolutely nothing you do makes sense from an exterior standpoint anymore. That’s the good shit. I would like to see more exploration of how the non-Parker characters experiencing the world in this incredibly altered way bounce in response.

It’s also one of many tools in this franchise hauling the reader into relating more closely with the main character. The backbone of classic Spidey is probably being in on secrets only Peter and the reader know which completely reframe how one views the situation on the page. It’s just a big irony mine for the whole first decade. A convenient way to inform the reader and the lead that something is bad news that’s not perceivable to any other characters is youth-with-a-big-exciting-secret catnip.

Another point for tension, there, in that being aware of danger is not synonymous with being able to act on it. If there’s no visible reason for you to be acting strange, well...you’re just going to have to sit tight and sweat, aren’t you? Some gratuitous head wiggles never hurt when setting up that type of conflict.

Have I mentioned that they look cool? Simultaneously punchy and distinctive, with a respectable amount of leeway for artists to get creative with and still coming up with something easily recognizable? And pretty easy to intuit the meaning of even without the long-winded explanations common in the days when people wrote comics with the intent that someone could come in cold on any random issue and follow along okay, I think, although the mechanic has been deeply ingrained in popular culture for so long that I can’t really say for sure.

It was also useful back in the day when no artists drew the eyes on the Spider-Man mask as emoting and were conveying the lead’s expressions entirely through body language and panel composition. If you wiggle enough squiggles, you don’t need eyebrows.

Take This Handwave and Never Ask Me a Logistical Question Again

This ability patches plot holes faster than people can pick them open AND it can act as an excuse to get any plot rolling you can think of if paired with one meddling protagonist who doesn’t know how to mind their own business. Buy it now for only $19.99 (in four installments; that’s four installments of $19.99).

Why can a teenager win a six on one fight against other superhumans? Well, the spider-sense is the ultimate edge in combat, duh.

Why can Peter websling? Why doesn’t everyone websling? Well, the spider-sense is keeping him from eating flagpole when he violently flings himself across New York in a way neither man nor spider was ever meant to move.

How are we supposed to get him involved with the plot this week???? Well, that crate FELT dangerous, so he’s going to investigate it. Oh, dip, it was full of guns and radioactive snakes! Probably shouldn’t have opened that!

Yeah, okay, but why isn’t it fixing everything, then? Isn’t it supposed to be why Peter has never accidentally unmasked in front of somebody? ('Nother entry for this section, take a shot.) That’s crazy sensitive! How does he still have any problems!? Is everything bad that’s ever happened to characters with this powerset bad writing!? --Listen, I think as people with uncanny senses that can tell us whether we are in danger with accuracy that varies from incredible to approximate (I am talking about the five senses that most people have), we should all know better than to underestimate our ability to tune them out or interpret them wrong and fuck ourselves up anyway. I honestly find this part completely realistic.

*SLAPS ROOF OF SPIDER-SENSE* YOU CAN FIT SO MANY STORIES IN THIS THING

The spider-sense is a clean branch into...whatever. There is the exact right balance of structure and wishy-washiness to build off of. A sample selection of whatevers that have been built:

It’s sci-fi and spy gadgets when Peter builds technology that can interface with it.

It’s quasi-mystical when Kaine and Annie-May get stronger versions of it that give them literal psychic visions, or when you want to get mythological and start talking about all the spider-characters being part of a grand web of fate.

Kaine loses his and it becomes symbolic of a future newly unbound by constraints, entangled thematically with the improved physical health he picked up at the same time -- a loss presented as a gain.

Peter loses his and almost dies 782 times in one afternoon because that didn’t make the people he provoked when he had it stop trying to kill him, and also because he isn’t about to start “””taking the subway’’””’ “‘’“”to work”””’’” like some kind of loser who doesn’t get a heads up when he’s about to hit a pigeon at 50mph.

Peter’s starts tuning into his wife’s anxiety and it’s a tool in a relationship study.

It starts pinging whenever Peter’s near his boss who’s secretly been replaced by a shapeshifter and he IGNORES IT because his boss is enough of an asshole that that doesn’t strike him as weird; now it’s a comedy/irony tool.

Into the Spider-Verse made it this beautiful poetic thing connecting all the spider-heroes in the multiverse and stacked up a story on it about instant connection, loss, and incredibly unlikely strangers becoming a found family. It was also aesthetic as FUCK. Remember the scene where Miles just hears barely intelligible whispering that’s all lines people say later in the film and then his own voice very clearly says “look out” and then the room explodes?? Fuck!!!!

Venom becomes immune to it after hitchhiking to Earth in Peter’s bone juice and it makes him a unique threat while telling a more-homoerotic-than-I-assume-was-originally-intended story about violation and how close relationships can be dangerous when they go sour.

It doesn’t work on people you trust for maximum soap opera energy. Love the innate tragedy of this feature coming up.

IN CONCLUSION I don’t have much patience for writers who don’t take advantage of it, never mind feel they need to write around it.

#spiderman #peter parker #spiderverse #spidey #marvel #danny phantom #one day you'll see what i'm doing with it in the project i'm collabing on w/ my brother and then you'll all be sorry and hopefully impresse #mirrorfalls #asks answered #essays

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nyxicnymph · 4 years ago

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Another Time and Date???

Chasulia Oneshot.

@disfordevineaux

@oqxy

@of-scars-and-roses

@sleepymochasloth

@redcxackles-backup

@catintheback

@justanotherpsych00

All Julia Argent knew about her soulmate was that they appeared to be forgetful, or had no access to pen and paper. Scrawled addresses and dates had appeared on her hand nearly daily from her sixteenth birthday. The handwriting had evolved, but it was still a scrawl across her tiny palms.

So Julia wore gloves.

It wasn't like she was embarrassed by her soulmate, far from it. They'd never tried to communicate, but that didn't bother her. Julia believed one should not force destiny.

When the addresses started matching up with certain historical treasures and museums, Julia had a bit of a panic. The same targets that Carmen Sandiego were hitting were only showing up on her hand only hours before the raids.

Sure, Carmen Sandiego was hot, but... she was an international superthief, for God's sake. And Julia just wasn't that attracted to her, no matter what outsiders may think.

But then Carmen started leaving her handwritten notes, after they'd partnered up a few times, to Chief's bemusement. And Julia sighed in relief. Carmen wrote in elegant cursive, not an untidy scrawl.

That didn't solve the mystery, but it knocked one suspect off the list.

"Eh, Miss Argent, you appear to be lost in your thoughts?" Devineaux asked her as he tapped her shoulder.

Julia flinched in surprise. "Oh, just a personal mystery. It has nothing to do with our work."

Devineaux frowned. "But if it is occupying your thoughts, you will not be in the right mindset to work, no?" He grabbed a chair from nowhere and sat in it, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped under his chin. "Is it a mystery you are willing to share?"

Julia smiled slightly at the sight before her. Devineaux had grown from an arrogant, dismissive coworker to a steady and reliable friend for her. She sat down as well and took a deep breath.

As close as Devineaux was to her, you don't just talk about soulmates with anyone. Soulmates were a sensitive topic.

"It is my soulmate. Specifically the way our mark works. My soulmate mark is the ink mark, and my soulmate, they must be forgetful or in a habit of writing on themselves. As of the last several months, or year, several of the addresses..." Julia sighed, and removed her glasses to wipe them off in a nervous tic. As she replaces her glasses, she continues, "Several of the addresses lined up with places we have gone in our attempts to capture or work with Carmen Sandiego. At first I thought maybe my soulmate was her, but her handwriting is completely different. Yet the addresses continue to show up."

Devineaux's eyes had steadily grown wider and wider during Julia's small monologue. He cleared his throat. "So, is it maybe one of her comrades? Or someone here at ACME?"

Julia shook her head. "I don't know. But I have a plan. I've never communicated with them, through the connection, but with all these coincidences, I'm about to. I have to. I have to know who they are, Devineaux."

Devineaux nodded and stood. "I hope you find them, Miss Argent." He exited her work area, and made his way outside.

Having exited the building, he leaned against the wall, shaking slightly. He raised his left hand to eye level, and slowly, finger by finger, removed the glove that had been covering it.

He had just written down the address this morning, due to a tip from some of Carmen's contacts.

Devineaux never thought about soulmates, since he didn't have a visible soulmark. But suddenly, after Julia's words, Devineaux was anxious.

What if he had offended, oppressed, and hurt his soulmate?

But you've also learned from your mistakes, apologized, and stepped away from those hurtful behaviors, another part of his mind whispered.

Devineaux clutched his head in confusion and anxiety. He allowed himself two minutes of agonizing, then he stood up tall, replaced his glove, smoothed his hair, straightened his jacket, and returned to his work.

<Timeskip: Next Day>

Julia lowered the pen, only to pull it back. She had been so determined to do this, so ready to finally meet this person, only for her nerve to fail her now? She shook her head and pressed her lips together in determination. She raised the pen again, and placed it firmly on the back of her hand.

I believe it is time for us to meet.

She then gave the address of the café where Chief liked to go in the mornings, and set a time for their meeting, and set the pen down. She stared at her hand for a few minutes, breathless. Finally, the scrawl appears.

I will be there.

Julia released the breath she'd been holding. They were coming. She'd finally meet her soulmate and find out about the addresses and mysteries.

She might even feel less stressed.

She pulled her glove back on and pulled out her laptop, satisfied. They'd meet around noon, if all went well.

Devineaux looked at the back of his hand, shocked, and scared. He didn't have any proof, but if this was just a coincidence, it was an uncanny one.

He pulled the glove back on and resumed his work, though his eyebrows were closer knit than usual. He looked up at a gentle knock, however, less then two minutes later. Julia was standing there nervously.

"Ah, Miss Argent, come in!" He said, putting on his regular Chase facade.

"Devineaux," she began, "I did it! I'm meeting my soulmate for lunch today!"

Devineaux's head swirled, and a lump grew in his throat. He should tell her, but he couldn't get the words out. All he could manage was a weak, "That sounds lovely."

Julia was normally an observant woman, but she was in a daze, and couldn't quite see the tempest in Devineaux. She couldn't see his internal conflict with himself, a conflict that was growing stronger by the second. She just couldn't.

Julia walked around Devineaux's desk, and gave him a hug. "Thank you for being so supportive of me. Not just with this, but with everything. Ever since Egypt, you've become one of my best friends. No, you are my best friend now. And I couldn't be more grateful."

Devineaux returned her hug, his knowledge pressing on his tear ducts, but he swore not to cry. Not then.

"You showed me my errors, Miss Argent. You, and your perspective, changed me for the better." Oh, how he wanted to call her Julia, then. But he couldn't. That wasn't his place. Not yet.

Julia stepped away. "Now, I must go. I have some things to finish up before I leave. Thank you, Devineaux."

He nodded as she turned and left, a slight spring in her step. Devineaux looked down at his desk, noting a drop. The tears weren't tears of sadness, nor joy. They were tears of conflict, and tears of shame that he had been unable to tell her then and there.

He wiped the teardrop of the desk, and returned to his papers. Like Julia, he had several things to accomplish before their lunch. He would not be working through his lunch break today.

Julia tapped the last of her papers together, and looked at the clock. She swept the papers into her desk, and stood up. She was about to leave her area when she looked at a vase on her desk. There was a small flower on the edge of the arrangement she had placed in it, and she pulled it out. Her hair had grown out a bit, but she thought the primrose might still be a nice touch. She placed it gently behind her hair, and smiled, pleased by the effect.

Devineaux waited for Julia to exit the building before hurriedly shoving all his stuff in a briefcase and shoving it into the desk. He stopped by a mirror in the hall and tried to fix his hair, but stopped. It wouldn't change how Julia viewed him. She already knew almost everything about him, or at least his personality.

And his messy grooming habits.

Devineaux internally flinched. If today went well, if she accepted him, he resolved to improve his hygiene and grooming. And double check the toothpaste tubes.

He still hated VILE for that one.

He made his way to the cafe, and stopped just outside. His breath caught in his throat.

She was there. A primrose in her hair, and a radiance around her that just made her shine. He backed away for a moment.

He just realized that he was in love with Julia Argent.

He straightened his coat, hoping she wouldn't be disappointed in him. He walked in with a group of other people. Even from a distance, he could tell that, despite her glow, Julia was anxious. After a glance at his watch, Chase knew why.

He was seven minutes late.

Chase felt his heartrate go up drastically, and he wasn't sure if he'd make it to Julia. He pulled a pen out of his pocket, and placed it on his hand.

Try not to be disappointed.

Julia raised an eyebrow at the message, but also understood. She gasped in surprise when a hand was gently placed on the table in front of her. She looked down at the messages, which mirrored hers exactly, then followed the limb up, past a familiar jacket, to a very familiar face.

Chase Devineaux smiled weakly. "Surprise?"

He sat down heavily and placed his forehead on the table, the anxiety from earlier leaving him exhausted. Julia stared at him, her brain whirling.

"Wait, you're my soulmate?!" She mumbled, still in shock.

Chase lifted his head up. "I wanted to tell you earlier, when you walked in, but I just could not! I give you my deepest apologies, Miss Argent."

Julia looked at him, still processing, but the pieces are starting to click. "No, no, I don't think you should apologize. Something about fate. It's strange like this." She looked at her delicate hand, then placed it on Devineaux's rougher and larger one. "And fate didn't want me to know then, I'm sure."

Devineaux looked away. "But, Miss Argent, how can you trust me now?"

Julia looked at him quizzically. "You've saved my life, and grown into someone I can trust with anyone. Devi-" She stopped, swallowed, and continued. "Chase, how could I not trust you?"

Chase looked at her again, wonder on his face. Hardly anyone called him Chase. "I thought you would hate me, or even worse, ignore me."

Julia sighed. "I could never. We're partners, remember?" She held up her hand. "Forever, I suppose."

Chase cracked a grin, and leaned back, running a hand over his face. "It's like a weight has been lifted from my chest, thanks to you, Miss Argent."

"Julia," she corrected, and he nodded.

"Of course. Julia."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Julia's eyes widened and she covered her mouth. Chase glanced over in concern.

"Julia?"

"I friendzoned you!"

Chase just leaned back and laughed.

<End>

#chasulia #chase x julia #chase devineaux #julia argent #carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego 2019 #oneshot #soulmate au

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bisluthq · 4 years ago

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I know this is preaching to the converted here but I genuinely don't understand Ks who think they broke up in 2019 while Lover was being recorded/ME! being filmed. Cause they say about the relationship breaking down around the 'fake wedding' but the wedding wasn't fake. I can sort of believe it if they broke up in 2018 with K choosing Josh for good but tbh given how they didn't interact from nov 2016 onwards + social media stuff I can't see it from then

I think I can actually understand it, it’s just not true. But I really am not here for dunking on people getting this wrong historically and in fact figuring out what happened here and why it went on for so long on main can teach us some valuable lessons so let’s go through this.

I think several things happened that lead fandom into making this kritical error (over and over): 1) Taylor went dark in November 2016. Kar didn’t. People who thought they were together found it comforting to believe that they were together because Karlie was offering Tay’s fans a window into “their” life together. Which was... not a window into Tay’s life, obviously, because that makes no sense, but I think it was a nice fantasy that was actively being reinforced by a number of influential Kays. But like yeah a lesson here is private couples are... about an equal amount of private usually unless one is much more famous and therefore seen more. But the less famous half of a celeb couple isn’t going to be posting lifestyle content from the home of their famous spouse who only poses with blank walls. That’s silly.

2) Taylor produced Reputation and said she is going to keep her private life private (for that era - idk why hard Kays keep dredging that prologue out as gospel for the rest of time when it does seem like it was part of the whole snake era vibes) and let the music do the talking. She also then went and said all of the album was for one muse. The latter makes no sense at all, as I’ve explained before there are.... pretty visibly three separate romantic relationships being discussed on the album. We have something messy in SIG, DBM, DWOHT and Dress except for the bridge (like the latter is not just in terms of gay/straight readings but it goes from “pining and anticipation” anxiety to “one and only my lifeline” - it literally is about two people and two different points in her life). We have something good and new in CIWYW, Delicate, KOMH and NYD. We then have Getaway Car. And we also have the diss tracks some of which do seem to reference messy muse in some ways. But Tay said to fans “this is all about my angel boyfriend Joe” and instead of being like “oh okay so that’s an exaggeration obviously but Joe can still be real you wouldn’t want to formally talk about exes when you’re happy in something new” Kays decided what she meant was “this is all about my angel girlfriend Kar”. Both are stupid things to believe due to the actual lyrical evidence and the fact that there are, as I yelled into the void for the first three years of thinking this, at least three relationships discussed in the lyrics but both opinions are kinda rooted in evidence of some sort.

3) Swiftwyn were extremely private for the first few years of their relationship and whenever they appeared formally in the media it was to stunt for her promo (which is often the case, like this is why pap walks aren’t great confirmation of a relationship) which made it possible to sell it as a PR relationship even though it made no sense as one. “Proving” it’s real in some capacity required deep diving for the multitude of receipts that they’re regularly spotted together as @youareinlovees so legendarily did. And nobody wanted to do that because they liked the idea that he’s not really around and that Kaylor are still on because lbr it’s a hotter idea. Like it’s that simple. Also, given Joe wasn’t a household name prior to dating Tay (but let me just stress again that his biggest role was before he dated her and he consciously took a step back when they got together), nobody knew anything about him and so they could call him boring and shit and therefore dispute her attraction to him while pulling up a stunty and kinda cringey Vogue interview lmao as proof of Kaylor’s deep love for one another.

4) big blogs spread lies and nobody bothered to verify the veracity of things that were being said. Which is probably our biggest lesson to take away from them. Fact check shit, kids. Y’all kept repeating the Kissgate thing - that they went dark straight after - when that was literally a lie. Like I love being fact checked and I think my regular readers know that because y’all relish fact checking me (as you should 😌). And you all should like being fact checked too. Being wrong isn’t a crime. We all get stuff wrong and we all say dumb shit. What’s bad is refusing to admit it, ya know, and ignoring evidence in order to prove something or twisting evidence of one thing into something else. And both sides are regularly guilty of this. Like hets spent ages going on about how Kar wasn’t important to Tay and was just the “situationship” lesson from the Elle essay (when I think it’s pretty clear she was all that glitters is not gold). And Kays spent ages saying Kar is her soulmate other half type. And both sets of people were being silly and not being objective.

5) Finally, there is a lesson about inductive versus deductive reasoning at play here. If you’re going from a conclusion - Karlie and Taylor are together and are soulmates - it becomes possible to twist anything into supporting that. If you think Karlie and Taylor never had anything at all it becomes possible to twist anything into supporting that. If you think inductively and try put together actual evidence that you find into a picture that makes sense you’re more likely to be on the right track. Like you can still fuck up because you’re not those people but at least you’ll make sense.

Anyway I think the point is we should learn from this situation and not bash people who believed it for a long time because I can see how it happened and I’m happy many are seeing the light now.

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rigginsstreet · 4 years ago

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Tell me about the symptoms of ptsd that fp shows

wish i had the gifset i was looking at earlier that brought all this up lmao but anyway google is free SO

agitation, irritability, hostility, self destructive behavior.... self explanatory we have visual canon proof of all those things. self isolation... like sending your son to go live with your best friend bc you dont think youre good enough to raise him (which to be fair he is not but also his sons shitty so idk whos winning that battle for rightness but whatever) ALSO im willing to bet if we saw the actual downfall of his and gladys’ marriage we wouldve seen his attempts at pushing her away much like how he was with fred in 107 at the jailhouse (not saying hed be physical with her but like... idk the mind wanders sometimes i cannot lie but mentally hed be in the same space) ALSO theres the alleged matter of the flashback where we see fp (along with everyone else but sh we’re focusing on fp right now) isolating himself from the group which i mean really him cutting ties with everyone who is not fred makes sense cuz they werent friends to begin with but (and idc what r*s wanted us to believe) he and fred were absolutely friends prior so THAT particular relationship is what needs to be focused on because fp pushing himself away from fred actually means something in this context.

emotional detachment is another could-be symptom... as i have also discussed via is reactions to freds death + his alcoholism which always either goes one of two ways: we see him drinking to numb the emotions or we see the drinking enhancing them (and of course all this ties back into self destructive behavior)

now for this part... i want to make it VERY clear that i absolutely do not condone riverdales writing.... i think we’re all aware of that here but lest this post get in the hands of outsiders lmao... just wanna make it clear. and they absolutely are not thinking this deeply... about anything.... but especially about fp... but like if i were the one taking charge of this storyline with whats already been written... this is how i would explain things:

so lost of interest or pleasure in activities can also be a symptom of ptsd and at first i was like eh i dont know if i really see anything in canon that backs this up BUT then i remembered fps constant flip flopping about the serpents and how he was all set up to have this cushy life on the north side only to later go back to the serpents (i guess? i still dont know whats hes doing) and particularly that stupid ass scene with archie at pops talking about how he missed ... street fighting... i guess.... anyway i say all this to say that it doesnt directly fit into “loss of interests” but i think its worth noting how he never seems to be satisfied (which... i know is 100% just inconsistent writing. i get that yes we know but i also think theres some truth to be dug out from that bc uhhhh i can do whatever i want thank you) but once again this also ties back into self destructive behavior because of course fp cannot just leave things alone when hes got it good he has this raging boner to fuck everything up at all times

ALSOOOOOO

why was it so easy for clifford to get fp on board with dumping jasons body ??? jughead wasnt threatened until fp was already arrested like WHAT fucking hold did clifford have over him ?? other than the fact that he was a man with much more power than fp and im not saying that couldve possibly triggered some twisted need to go along with him to like... appease him but... i dont know. im not a psychiatrist. (also again i know lazy writing but shhhh im on a roll)

heightened reactions... his fucking temper tantrums and outbursts... yea so theres that

fear/severe anxiety all i can think about is how in 302 when they were all confronted about g&g he had such an intense look on his face compared to everyone else WHICH I STILL WANT ANSWERS FOR but also i just gave myself one. youre welcome me (also ties in to heightened reactions)

did i mention depression? that bitch is clearly depressed and anyone who says he isnt is a liar or has never seen a depressed person

OH AND WE CAN ALSO TALK ABOUT THE SCENE WHERE HE ACTUALLY TELLS JUGHEAD WHAT AN ABUSIVE PRICK SENIOR WAS AND HOW HE LOOKED STILL VISIBLY SHAKEN WHILST THINKING BACK ON THAT TIME

insomnia/nightmares are also symptoms and while we have no canon proof he suffers either of those.... has that man ever looked well rested in his life? no. i rest my case.

#and thats what you missed on glee #fp jones #the gifset i was looking at earlier also mentioned guilt #but that wasnt on the list i just pulled up on google #and i dont think canonically fp really suffers with that #i mean...#maybe but not in the right context pertaining to this #BUT #the fp that lives in my head does lmao #briana answers things #fredheads

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ko-fanatic · 4 years ago

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Paint on the Wall, Black in Our Minds (part three)

Rating: Teen and up, but dark themes present

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Trigger Warnings: Suicide attempt, self harm, eating disorders (anorexia), depression

Summary: It seems he’s willing to sacrifice a little for the sake of being seen as normal, but that’s normal... Right?

Other parts in this series: Part one | Part two

Kyoya swallowed thickly, feeling too tall and awkward as he stood at the front of his new classroom beside the teacher. He never liked being so... prominent. Stared at. Part of the reason he hadn't done a face reveal on the blog, despite the literal years of asks and curiosity from his followers.

He forced himself to ignore his sleeves. Constant tugging would only draw attention, after all, and Fuyumi had helped him secure his shirt to his fresh bandages with a couple of white stitches. He had no clue what to do when they had to come off and he would have to consciously make sure the gnarled wounds were fully covered at all times, without something to anchor his cuffs to. Still, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it; when he wasn't fighting back the churning of his stomach.

The nutritional shakes sat heavy in his gut, anxiety only making it worse - like usual. Honestly, vomiting in front of this entire class of strangers would be like the crowning turd on the flaming garbage pile that was his life right now.

"Alright, everyone," The teacher began, chatter stilling and far too many eyes burning into his thin frame like a brand - NOT NORMAL.

Logically, they were simply looking, but he couldn't help but try to dig for "proof" that they hated him on-sight. Learned behaviour was a bitch, but he really needed to stop making this worse for himself. His father and brothers' lives were completely uprooted and changed for him and his recovery, after all; he needed to try and not screw it up...

"This is Kyoya Ootori, transferring from the Tokyo area," The teacher introduced, clapping Kyoya on the shoulder and nearly making him fall over - both from shock and the fact that he could be taken away by a strong breeze, at least if Akito was to be believed, "Why don't you introduce yourself, Kyoya?"

Fuck, this was the worst part. He had to talk, but not too much or too little, and make himself seem like a well-rounded and well-adjusted person who definitely isn't a cutter or suicidal. The emo hair didn't really help...

"Well, as sensei said, I used to live in Tokyo, but my family decided that a change of pace was needed. We've been living here about a week now, and I hope you all take care of me," He bowed, not looking anyone in the face, not wanting to know if he'd already made a misstep. He simply straightened and took his seat in an empty chair in the middle row. Not too near the front - teacher's pet - or too near the back - weird loner.

He let himself release the breath he was holding, getting out his books and pen from his satchel, allowing the teacher’s lesson just wash over him. He could do this. He could get through two years in this place, middling through, as long as he didn't give anyone a reason to dislike him. Be so plain that it was impossible to actively hate, even if no one liked him.

It helped that the lesson seemed to be something he'd actually been taught by the tutor at the hospital and was told he was competent at. He didn't have to worry about making himself seem like an idiot if he were called upon, but still decided to note down questions and answers in his notebook so he could have an answer on hand immediately, rather than fumbling and stuttering. He couldn't stand the thought of being seen as unintelligent, to the point that the suggestion at all sent an army of fire ants under his skin.

It was something contradictory, he supposed; the wish to be invisible juxtaposed with the want to be recognised as special for his intellect. He felt eternally annoyed by himself, honestly, but this wasn’t exactly the most irritating of his traits, and so he brushed the internal monologue to the side.

Papers were handed out by the teacher, saying that they could talk amongst themselves as they completed the work, albeit quietly. Usually, Kyoya would just sit in silence and get through the work, every so often interrupted by snickering behind him and the odd physical annoyances; balled up paper, pinches, the usual adolescent mischief.

Not here, though.

People chatted in their little groups, paying no mind to him. Well, an occasional glance, but no snorts of derision, as far as he could tell.

“Hey, I love your hair!”

The exclamation startled him, shoulders tensing on instinct and his pen falling to the floor. Eyes snapping from his work to the person before him, he was met with a bright smile quickly turning bashful, blonde hair, and a pair of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Oops, sorry!” The boy apologised, “I’m not great with volume control. I just thought you looked really cool, y’know?”

Kyoya didn’t respond, wracking his brain for a normal response to the compliment, the simple two words “thank you” seeming so far from his grasp. He wouldn’t call it “cool”, too edgy for his own good, even if he preferred to keep the shaggy fringe because he could hide under it, and it wasn’t like the hospital had a hairdresser’s on site, and with moving and all –

And now he’d been quiet for too long, so he forced his mouth to actually move.

“Th-thanks,” He stammered, gaze instantly fleeing from the pretty boy in front of him, hair falling into his eyes as he stared down at his desk, biting at the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t meant to stammer, but fuck! He really wasn’t expecting such a direct approach to starting a conversation. In fact, he hadn’t really expected anyone to interact with him at all, even if he was fresh meat, “It’s rather overgrown, though…”

“Ah, but you look just like an anime character! So awesome!” The other enthused once more, earning a reminder to keep quiet from the teacher, and Kyoya kind of wanted to die of embarrassment then and there, “You said your name was Ootori, right?”

“I… don’t know about that,” He muttered, which was true, “Yes, you’re correct.”

“So, Ootori-kun, considering you’re new in town, I guess you haven’t had much of a chance to meet the locals yet?” The blonde grinned, “You can join me and my friends at lunch if you like! I know that being the new kid sucks.”

“Oh.”

He couldn’t use his words today, apparently. Well, few words were probably best; an idiot who didn’t speak was much more tolerable than one that did, even if his aversion to be labelled as such send a near-visible shiver up his spine.

Still, the blond seemed undeterred.

“My name’s Tamaki, by the way. Tamaki Suoh.”

He smiled, and it was warm, yet left him feeling unbearably cold. Lunch meant a meal, and he needed those, but for him that included a couple of bottles in his bag. The name was emblazoned in red across the front, several groups of kanji pronouncing the drink’s high vitamin content and other such things – including the weight gain effects. That wasn’t normal, at all. So, between classes, he simply got rid of the problem.

He dumped them in the bin.

#ouran high school host club #OHSHC #Kyoya Ootori #tamaki suoh #paint on the wall series #my fanfiction

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murkycran · 4 years ago

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Rainboots

Summary: "First, there was never any proof that was even me, and secondly, I have a hatchback, Virgil, obviously any hypothetical opossums in cages would be stored in the back rather than on my leather seats."

"I was literally sitting beside you when Remus asked you to help and you said yes-" --- It's pouring when they leave the movies, Remus does his best to get them all banned from the theatre, Virgil's ride canceled on him, and only three of them are wearing rain boots.

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Gen

Tags: Friendship, Teenagers, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, Remus' brand of humor, Anxiety, Angst, very small angst where Virgil is having negative thoughts, But Nothing Too Bad

Words: 3410

Read on AO3!

---

As the end credits rolled and the lights of the theater brightened to allow guests to leave, the sudden lack of theatrical music revealed another sound.

"Is that rain?" Virgil asked, leaning forward in his seat to look at the others.

Remus was already out of his seat and hurriedly making his way...up? the theatre steps, rather than heading for the exit. Roman didn't appear to be paying attention at all, seemingly trying to reach down the back of his shirt for something while Logan checked his phone for missed notifications. Janus gave Virgil a dry look. "No, that's not rain at all. It totally sounded like that before the movie started."

As if punctuating his words, a rumble of thunder shook the building.

Patton hopped to his feet and dug around in his drawstring bag for a bit before emerging with a collapsible, lime-green umbrella clasped in his hand. "I hope everyone came prepared! I wouldn't want the weather to dampen the mood!"

Virgil completely missed the pun, because he, in fact, did not come prepared and was already dreading getting his clothes soaked. Janus at least remarked, "I'm not sharing my umbrella."

"Nor am I," Logan agreed, standing up as he put his phone away. "I told everyone in the group text earlier today to bring adequate rain gear, so no one is going to be able to use the excuse that they 'didn't know'."

Virgil sighed as he stood with the others and they began shimmying down the aisle towards the stairs. "Yeah, well, I kinda ducked out of the group text after Remus started threatening spoilers for the movie."

Speaking of. "HEY! Hey, guys, look!"

Virgil already felt a wave of mortification sweeping over him as not only their group but everyone else still in the theatre turned towards the projection booth at the top of the stairs. Remus was using his hands to make shadow puppets of dicks in front of the light coming from the projector.

"Oh my god," Virgil choked out, suddenly wishing the ground would swallow him up. Janus and Logan both wore unimpressed looks as Patton chuckled nervously and called back up to Remus. "Hey kiddo, maybe come back down? We don't want the movie theatre employees to ban you again."

"Patton, stop acting like we know him!" Virgil hissed. "Everyone's looking at us!"

"Normally I'd relish the attention," Roman spoke up as he finally stood, still shifting his shirt and jacket in an odd fashion, "but I have to agree with the Dark Knight on this one, padre. I'd rather we all not get banned because of my brother."

"Glad to see the everlasting, unbreakable bond of blood between brothers is still as strong as ever," Janus said.

Logan pushed his glasses up on his nose, raising an eyebrow at the tamer twin. "Roman, what are you doing?"

Roman's reply was cut off as Remus made a mad, cackling dash back down the stairs through the last of the people leaving the theatre as employees appeared from behind the projection booth door.

"We should leave quickly," Logan said. He was checking his phone again. "I'm getting flash flood warnings for our area."

Virgil groaned. "As if Remy's driving wasn't bad enough."

They all shared a wince. No one carpooled with Virgil twice after riding with Remy in the driver seat.

The remaining five - since Remus was no longer in sight - began making their way down the stairs. Roman lagged behind after every few steps, still tugging at his shirt behind his back. After reaching the bottom and glancing back to see the twin still struggling on the stairs halfway up, Patton finally asked, "Do you need help, bud?"

Roman huffed frustratedly. "Remus kept putting candy down the back of my shirt during the movie. I got the Twizzlers out, but I'm pretty sure he also dropped some Reese's Pieces down my collar. I think they're stuck to my back from sitting between me and the seat cushion."

"Oh, so that's what he was doing," Janus said. "I was wondering why he was moving around so much."

"Aw, what a waste of candy," Patton pouted.

"Dude, just go in the bathroom and take your shirt off to check," Virgil said.

"Yes, please do that," Janus agreed, eyeing Roman warily all of a sudden. "If you're going to be riding in my car there will be no melted candy left behind in the seats."

Roman sighed but finally stopped pulling at his shirt and jacket to follow them the rest of the way out. As they neared the bathrooms, Logan asked, "Why didn't you just stop him from doing it?"

The twin scoffed. "Uh, have you met my brother? It's Remus, you can't tell him to do anything, and it would've been exactly what he wanted: me making a scene in a dark theater. Besides, I got some revenge by shoving SourPatch Kids down his shirt, too." The last bit was said with a bit of pride.

Janus groaned dramatically as Roman left them outside the bathrooms. "Great, two people littering candy in my car." He sighed as he made his way to the benches against the wall opposite of the bathrooms and sat down, pulling his yellow, faux snake skin-patterned backpack into his lap and opening it.

Patton took a seat beside Janus and Virgil sat on Patton's other side, slouching down with his hands shoved in his pockets. Virgil said, "I know for a fact that you helped Remus smuggle possums into the guys gym at school two months ago using your car to back up to the back entrance. Yet you're worried about a few pieces of candy?"

Janus rolled his eyes as he pulled off his left shoe. "First, there was never any proof that was even me, and secondly, I have a hatchback, Virgil, obviously any hypothetical opossums in cages would be stored in the back rather than on my leather seats."

"I was literally sitting beside you when Remus asked you to help and you said yes-" Virgil started to argue, but Patton cut him off quickly, desperate to avoid the argument that was sure to start. "Janus, you brought rainboots, too?"

The teen in question had pulled two shiny yellow rainboots out of his backpack and already had one on. "Of course I did. My regular shoes are too nice to get wet. Plus, these keep water from getting on the cuff of my pants."

Logan was looking at the garishly yellow backpack somewhat dubiously. "How did you even fit those in there? You snuck in all the drinks in that bag."

"Please, I'm a very efficient packer. Carrying five bottles of soda in just because you all are too cheap to buy from the concession here was child's play, even with my boots."

"I wore my boots, too!" Patton excitedly stuck his feet out, proudly showing off his cat-patterned rainboots. "Why didn't you wear yours in? They're so cute!"

"What if it hadn't rained?" Janus asked as he packed away the shoes he'd originally been wearing, now sporting his yellow rainboots. "I would've looked like a fool."

Logan said, "There was a ninety percent chance of rain."

"Still didn't want to risk it."

"Risk what?" Roman interrupted, finally leaving the bathroom.

Virgil stood up, looking at his phone. "Janus ruining his hypothetical reputation."

The hoodie-clad teen missed the impressive glare Janus shot his way. "Excuse you-"

"Guys, where's Remus?" Roman once again interrupted (to the relief of Patton and Logan).

"I think he's outside," Logan said, pulling out his collapsible, navy blue umbrella. "He's probably waiting on us."

He was right. Sort of. Outside the rain was pouring down hard enough that a mist was being swept under the overhang of the theatre by the wind. The parking lot was visibly flooded with only a few cars left in sight. They found Remus using a sharpie to draw on one of the encased movie posters placed outside the building. "You guys are slower than corpses. I've already drawn on Shia LaBeouf's movie poster over there and remade it into a masterpiece. Want to see?"

Everyone was thankfully saved from answering by Virgil's strangled noise of frustration. "Guys, I have a problem."

As Patton held a hand out for the sharpie (which Remus turned over with only a slight pout), he asked, "What's wrong, kiddo?"

"Remy just said he can't pick me up. He thinks the tread on his tires wouldn't stand up against this much rain and he's worried we'd hydroplane."

Well, what Remy actually said was this:

Sleepy bastard: hey V, sorry but I can't pick u up tonite. it's raining 2 hard *sad face emoji*

Virgil: seriously? how am I supposed to get home?

Sleepy bastard: gee, idk, ask ur friends? call an uber? hey, I'll even pay for it bc this is kinda my fault

Virgil: what

Sleepy bastard: I keep forgetting 2 go get new tires and I'm afraid the tread wouldn't get any good traction with it raining this bad. can you imagine getting out in this like that, with MY driving? *horrified face emoji* one of ur friends is some rich kid, right? i bet he can afford tires, probably the BEST tires *several dollar sign emojis*

Virgil: oh my god

Virgil: youre my cousin and youre literally leaving me out in the cold

Sleepy bastard: gee, babe, it's almost like that driver's test u refuse 2 take might actually be worth taking now, huh?

Sleepy bastard: ok srry that was a low blow. but rlly i think u should try 2 get a ride with ur friend. not kidding about my tires being shit. college is sucking my bank account dry and i don't want 2 add a car repair bill, or worse, a hospital bill

Virgil: ...fine

Sleepy bastard: cool cool, I'll leave the lights on for u. lmk if u decide to spend the night at a friends house instead

Virgil almost would've laughed at that if he wasn't currently wondering how he was going to get home, because spending the night at one of his friends' houses, unexpected and uninvited? Yeah, right, like he'd do that. He needed at least two days' notice in order to psych himself up into talking to anyone else's parents, let alone inviting himself to their house unexpectedly.

Thankfully, he didn't have any reservations about asking his friends for a ride. "I need a ride. Can I go with one of you guys?"

The rest of the group shared a glance. Janus spoke up. "Well, technically I was driving everyone home... Roman and Remus were dropped off and Logan rode with me here from school since we had a debate team meeting after school. Patton had a GSA club meeting after school so he rode with me, too. My car only holds five people."

Virgil felt the first stirrings of panic winding up in his chest - he's such an inconvenience, if only he could make himself take the stupid driving test without freezing up - only for the fear to die as Remus suddenly scoffed. "Of course you can fit more than five people in that fancy car of yours, Dee, you're just not trying hard enough."

"Remus, you're not riding on the roof of the car again. We saw what happened last time," Logan said in a somewhat exasperated tone.

Patton paled. "Again?"

Roman waved off the cat-loving teen, unfazed. "Trust me, you didn't miss much. They were going so fast I didn't even get a good video out of it."

Patton made a choking noise, looking increasingly more worried. "Guys-"

Remus giggled, slapping a hand down on Patton's shoulder. "Don't worry, Dad, I was so pumped full of adrenaline I didn't even feel anything when I landed."

"You're going to give him a stroke," Virgil muttered, eyeing the increasingly paler Patton warily.

"The point is..." Remus cut in, "if the back cargo space is good enough for my opossum friends, then it's good enough for me. Problem solved."

"Hypothetical opossum friends," Janus hurriedly corrected. "But sure, we can try it."

"Cool, great, quick question though-" Roman said, staring out at the flooding parking lot. "Why the hell did you park so far away?"

All eyes turned to squint out through the virtual monsoon that was coming down. At the farthest end of the darkened lot sat golden Chevy Bolt, illuminated by the weak beam of a parking lot light pole.

"So people wouldn't park near me and risk scratching my car, obviously," Janus said, completely unbothered by the fact that his car was at least a good fifty yards away. "Unlike some people, I brought an umbrella and appropriate footwear. I can just pull back around and pick you all up so you don't drip in my car."

Completely disregarding his words, Remus suddenly shouted, "First loser to the car gets shotgun!", before taking off headlong into the pouring rain. Not to be outdone by his brother, Roman cursed before running after him, yelling, "NOT FAIR!"

The remaining four watched with varying reactions of dismay, amusement, and confusion.

"...Wouldn't the loser be the last one to the car? And I thought Remus was going to ride in the back...?" Logan asked.

Janus hummed. "He is. I'm pretty sure he just wanted to get wet."

Virgil once again regretted his life choices, looking down at his worn-out converses and tattered jeans. "This is gonna suck so bad. I'm going to be soaked the second I step out there."

"I don't know," Patton said with a smile, still watching Remus and Roman chase each other in the rain. "It looks kinda fun to me."

"Oh, please," Janus started, shooting a wide-eyed look at Patton, "don't tell me you're actually thinking about-"

The glasses-wearing teen shot Janus a bright smile. "Pleeeeease?"

The blonde teen stared hard at Patton, trying to resist. After a few moments, Janus finally crumbled with a put-out sigh and roll of his mismatched eyes. "Fine, go for it. Seems like everyone is out to ruin my car's interior tonight, you might as well join in."

With a gasp of delight, Patton leaped forward and put his arms around the shorter teen, exclaiming, "Thanks, Janus!"

Looking a bit like an indignant cat that didn't want to be held, Janus awkwardly patted his back. "Sure. Whatever."

Virgil was snickering to himself at the look on Janus' face, only to be startled out of it by Patton shoving his collapsible umbrella into his hands. "Here, Virge, you can have my umbrella since I won't be using it now!"

Then the cat-loving teen was laughing as he dashed out into the rain, ignoring Logan's call of, "Be careful!"

The last three friends watched as the others gleefully ran about the parking lot. Roman reached the car before his brother, but Remus just jumped on his twins' back and held on, making Roman shriek indignantly and stagger as he tried to adjust to the new weight. Patton was finding the deepest puddles of the parking lot and jumping in each one with giant splashes, his laughter echoing across the parking lot even in the rain.

Janus sighed once again and pulled out his umbrella. "Well, I suppose it was about time I had my car detailed anyways."

As Logan opened his own navy umbrella, he said, "I suggest we walk at a slower pace than the others to the car. Not only could we slip if we ran, but running in the rain causes you to get even wetter than if you walk because more droplets are hitting you as you increase speed."

Virgil hummed, taking note for the next time he had to go between classes when it was raining and opened the bright green umbrella Patton had lent to him. It popped open to reveal two eyes and a mouth resembling a frog's face on the green fabric. Cute, he thought to himself (but didn't dare say out loud; he had an aesthetic to maintain). Mumbling, he shot a "thanksforlettingmeridewithyou" in Janus' direction.

The blonde teen's mismatched eyes lit up and he grinned. "What was that, Virgil? I don't think I heard you. Speak up a little bit."

The hoodie-clad teen huffed. "You heard me, I'm not saying it again."

"Hm, rude."

All three of them stepped out into the downpour and began making their way through the flooded areas of the parking lot. Virgil's shoes were soaked in virtually seconds, but at least his hair and eyeshadow was dry. Patton had nearly made it to the car at this point as Remus chased Roman around the vehicle, going in circles while shouting at each other.

Janus twirled the keys in his hand but made no move to unlock the doors until he was standing at the driver's side door. Patton moved to get in the door behind the driver's seat. He was soaked to the bone and grinning as Virgil came to stand next to him and shared the umbrella with him (even though it wouldn't do much good at that point). Roman, thinking Janus was about to unlock the door, stopped running to stand and wait at the passenger seat door. "HA! I call shotgun."

Stopping turned out to be a mistake. Remus, still thoroughly engrossed in the chase, tackled his brother right into the wet asphalt with a triumphant cry. Logan deftly stepped in to take Roman's former spot and it was only then that Janus unlocked the car.

Everyone sans Roman and Remus quickly piled into the luxury hatchback that no high schooler had any right to be driving. As Janus cranked up the heat to full blast, a soaking wet Roman swung open the door to the backseat and dove into the last open spot behind Logan, grumbling. "Seriously, Remus, why? You just succeeded in getting us both completely wet. This jacket is probably ruined now, thanks to you."

Remus, who was already crawling into the cargo space behind the back seats via the back hatch, blew a raspberry. "Just get it dry-cleaned, you baby. Besides, some of us like getting wet, if you know what I mean." The comment was collectively ignored.

"I can already tell there's going to be scuff marks from the pavement," Roman said as he examined the fabric. "I hope those Sour Patch Kids I put down your shirt melted to your clothes when you got us both wet."

"Oh, I already ate those."

There were more than a few disgusted faces in the car at that particular statement. Roman looked horrified. "That's so disgusting- How are we even related?"

A question everyone had heard numerous times...

"The car isn't moving till everyone is wearing their seatbelt," Janus stated, sternly eyeing the backseat passengers in the rearview mirror. He and Logan were both already buckled.

Virgil scooted over a bit for Patton, who had taken the middle seat between Virgil and Roman, to reach his buckle. "But Remus doesn't have a seatbelt."

"Remus doesn't count," Janus said.

"Yeah, emo," Remus leaned forward to poke Virgil in the neck. "God herself couldn't kill me."

Virgil gave a full-body shudder at the poke - Remus' fingers were freezing - and leaned forward to get away from the offending hand. "I swear to god, Rem, if you keep that up-"

Patton paused in trying to wipe away at the water obscuring his glasses and turned in his seat, squinting. "Now kiddos, play nice-"

Roman snorted. "I don't think my brother even knows how to 'play nice'."

Remus jabbed freezing fingers into Roman's unprotected neck in gleeful retaliation.

Tuning out the less mature back seat passengers and setting the windshield wipers at full blast, Janus shifted into drive and began to slowly pull out of the nearly empty parking lot. Logan studied him out of the corner of his eye for a few moments before saying, "I would think you'd be more upset at the amount of water we tracked into your car, Remus and Roman especially."

Janus shot Logan a mischievous grin as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Oh, I'm sure I'll find a way to collect on this favor with each of you at a later date."

"Of course you would," Logan sighed, already dreading the implications.

The blonde teen simply snickered, finally pulling out onto the road to begin the ordeal of dropping everyone off at their respective homes.

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #ts remus #ts janus #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #my writing #my first attempt writing in the sanders sides fandom yay

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foodcourtdetective · 5 years ago

Text

i’ll be yours in any way you’ll have me

summary: y/n waits for her soulmate to return from visiting Gene in the hospital, but there’s good news and bad news when Barry finally gets home.

tags: tw gun violence, tw anxiety attack, soulmate au, love at first sight, nods to canon but obvious twists on it, stressful plot with a happy ending

A/N: thank you for all of your lovely support! this is the end of the soulmark!au but I have another fic half-written if anyone is interested!

word count 1.7k

part 1 x // Part 2 x // AO3 x

Y/N was lounging on the couch, reading her psychology of personal adjustment textbook while mindlessly writing important terms in the notebook precariously balanced on her bent left leg. Barry was visiting Gene in the hospital; the couple had planned on finally celebrating the success of the scenes showcase after the pandemonium that had occurred opening night. Sure enough, Sally upstaging Barry in the scene and getting all the acclaim on the same night as Fuches escaping had been a bit of a dark cloud looming over her boyfriend. Y/N closed her books, her grad work forgotten as her eye caught the Catalina Breeze bottle displayed proudly on her mantle. She sighed happily before turning her glance over to Barry’s phone on the kitchen counter nearby. He had insisted on leaving his phone which her at all times so if Fuches was tracking their devices, the older man would think that Barry was always watching over his girlfriend. NoHank had given him a burner phone for when he had to leave her, even offering to stay nearby if Y/N needed backup.

She chuckled to herself, remembering the instant shine NoHank had taken to her. Any girl of Barry’s is a girl of mine. Despite the contention between the two criminals, Y/N could tell that Barry and NoHank really did have a strong connection. She could only imagine how excited NoHank would be for Barry when he finds out that he got the part in the Jay Roach movie after all. The leading man himself had yet to receive the news and Y/N hoped that the combination of Gene getting better and the huge career score would cheer up her soulmate when he got back. The rattling of the doorknob pulled her out of her happy thoughts, forcing her to confront the idea that someone was breaking into her apartment. Her heart jumped up her throat as she stood up, her books falling silently on the carpet as Y/N reached for the Glock 43 stored underneath the couch. Carefully tip-toeing to hide behind the kitchen island by the door, Y/N pointed the gun at the door with her dominant hand and speed-dialed the burner phone with her other hand. Despite herself, she thought back to how Barry had shown her these safety precautions and how goofy his long legs had looked as he crouched down behind their counter, how he had hindered her giggles with a hard kiss that somehow conveyed the severity of all of his emotions.

The phone was shaking as she raised it to her ear. “C’mon Bear, please pick u—“ her voice betrayed her fear as it cracked on her pet name for him, the one she had coined after comparing him to the teddy bear she used to cuddle as a child. Y/N’s prayers were cut off by the door swinging open, the lock successfully tampered with. She took a shaky breath and mentally prepared herself to jump for the intruder’s legs, to shoot— Her thoughts were interrupted as the intruder fell to his knees, revealing himself to be none other than Barry Berkman. She lowered the gun and put it down slowly, a choked sob of relief betraying her presence to him. He didn’t acknowledge her, staring at the floor with a hopeless look on his face as silent, angry tears streamed down his face. Y/N crawled over to his side, tilting her head downward to try to look into his big eyes.

“Bear-“

“Gene knows. Fuches told him I.. I…” Barry started hyperventilating, the raw emotions of guilt and hurt overwhelming him as his hands flapped like an actor trying to “shake it out.” Y/N intercepted his hands before he could punch something, her warm thumbs stroking his knuckles soothingly. Their soulmarks burned like they always did when they got closer to each other, still visible as his hands were surprisingly clean of any blood. He looked up at her, trying to read her face, trying to see how badly he had messed things up.

“How can he believe the man that framed him for murder? Besides, there’s proof that it was the Chechens…” she tried to reassure him.

“He told me to leave town, to never step into his class again,” he choked on his words, wheezing on the large gulps of air he was sucking in. Y/N shushed him kindly, pulling his long arms around her waist as she pressed her lips to his forehead. Her own hands left his so she could wrap her arms around his neck and stroke his hair, trying to envelop Barry in warm love as he cried into her CSUN sweatshirt. They sat there for a while until he pulled away, in awe of how she supported him unconditionally, without the same self interest everyone else valued in his relationship with them. Taking his observation as a victory, Y/N helped the assassin to his feet and walked him to the couch, kicking the books out of the way. As Barry hesitantly sat on the couch, Y/N pressed her hands atop his thighs and pressed her forehead to his.

“You sit here. Tomorrow morning, I’m going to call Leo and tell him that a con artist named Kenneth Goulet has been manipulating Gene and feeding him lies to isolate him from his loved ones. Then I’ll try to get him to let you go to class next week. You might have to pay extra the first couple sessions or lay low in participating but once he’s off his sedatives, it will be like it never happened. Okay?” She gave him a chaste but sweet kiss as he sat there, stunned by her calculated solution. Not paying his shock too much mind, Y/N headed over to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“I don’t know if you’re hungry, I know hospital food is terrible. I’m going to heat up my Mediterranean food if you want some. Just promise me you’ll take me to that new hipster cafe next weekend to make it up to me, m’kay?” Pulling the plastic container out and placing it in the microwave, Y/N tapped a few buttons before turning back to him to tell him about the part he had gotten. Barry was looking right at her, a look of epiphany painting his face as he asked her a question that stopped her pleasantries in their tracks.

“Marry me?”

“What!?” She asked, bewildered by his simple request out of nowhere. Suddenly aware of what he asked, Barry sheepishly stood up and scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, we can’t actually get married on paper because of my whole fake identity thing and I know you’re still working on grad school, but you’re my soulmate, literally and emotionally, and I want to prove that I’m gonna spend the rest of my ugly life with you in it and oh god, this was too soon is it—“ mid-rant he noticed that Y/N had closed the distance between them, her face glowing with happiness and her eyes glistening with tears.

“Yes! Of course yes! I’ll be yours in any way you’ll have me!” Emboldened by her response, Barry picked Y/N up into a hug, spinning her around with the same strength that broke a man’s windpipe to share his love for her. As Barry set her down, he placed both hands on her beaming cheeks and laughed in disbelief.

“Wow, I’m sorry I had plans! I don’t even have a ring yet…”

“I do!” Barry pulled a pistol out of the back waistband of his pants, roughly pushing his fiancé behind him as he faced the doorway to the bedroom, the source of the strange voice. NoHank had emerged from Y/N’s walk-in closet with tears in his eyes and his hands in the air, a twinkling ring in one hand.

“What the hell, Hank??”

“I told you I would stay nearby your zuda!” NoHank lowered his hands as Barry stored the gun back in its original spot. The bald Chechen handed him the ring, a bright smile on his face.

“Thank you, Hank,” Y/N smiled at her friend, gesturing for Barry to put the blood diamond on her finger. He simply obeyed, his muttering under his breath about getting her a clean ring later quieted by her soft eyes.

“Oh this is SO beautiful!!! I have shipped you ever since you guys went to the shooting range together!”

“GET OUT HANK!”

“But-“ a flurry of movement and a warning shot cut short whatever NoHank was about to say, the bullet hitting the wall next to the memorial bottle. NoHank yelped, scampering out the bedroom window behind him. Y/N shook her head, a wry smile on her face as Barry made a show of putting his gun away.

“That was a little dramatic, Bear.” He shrugged in response, kissing her earnestly with a joy he had never known. This commitment wasn’t going to be easy with Fuches still at large and Gene still unstable, but the radiance of affection that swelled through his once empty heart told him it would be worth it. After a long, beautiful kiss, Y/N broke it with a smile and tilted her head up at him.

“So am I ever going to know your real name?” He looked down at her, a gentle flush across his features as he pretended to consider her request. Suddenly, Y/N found his lips tickling her ear as he whispered faintly. She laughed, twisting away to get a good look at her fiancé.

“Bartholomew! That is SUCH an actor’s name,” she laughed, ruffling his hair as he just gave her a lovesick look. Heading back to the kitchen to get their food, Y/N failed to notice Barry following her into the kitchen and yelped when he encircled her waist with both arms, kissing her on the cheek.

“You know, you should change your actor’s name to Bartholomew Block for the Roach movie so it’s half real, half fake,” she added, the accidental reveal of the big news not dawning on her until Barry turned her to face him, the complete and blissful shock vibrant on his face.

“I GOT THE PART!” Y/N’s shy little nod prompted Barry to tackle her onto the floor playfully, his fingers brushing against her side accidentally and drawing a laugh from her lips. Kissing right under her ear, he smiled brighter than the sun.

“That is the second best news I’ve heard today!”

#ah what a journey #thanks for the support!#also fun fact #this part was written first and was originally 300 words #I close at the open?#barry berkman x reader #barry #barry hbo #barry block x reader #soulmate au #barry berkman imagine #barry block imagine #barry block #bill hader #hbo #bill hader x reader #my words #engagement fic #proposal fic

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adorajoon · 5 years ago

Text

no use crying over spilled milk

→ yg x reader / platonic ot7

→ 3.8k

→ this is part 29 of my sm au spilled milk, but it could be read as a stand alone if you choose :) also not proof read well so i’ll fix that jnfsk

you clasped your hands together, violently shaking your legs up and down. the soft hum of music from your earbuds drowned out the commotion of the airport. despite the mellow acoustics of the song you couldn’t help but feel a bundle anxiety nipping at your insides.

you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. and believe me you tried several times to stop shaking your legs after the lady next to you sent you a dirty look.

to say that you were a nervous wreck would be the understatement of the year. just ask your two friends jiwoo and chittaphon who had dropped you off at the crack ass of dawn to take you to the airport.

“wow this is a lot of trouble for some guys you met online.” chittaphon had said while looking at the dark road ahead. you raised an eyebrow and gave him a small shove from the passenger’s seat. he had always given you a hard time about the boys, but you knew it was from concern more than actual animosity.

jiwoo giggled and put her chin up to your seat to peer at the both of you. “ooo~ she looks mad.” she teased him with a big grin while poking your chin.

“ok, that was warranted…” chittaphon paused with an unreadable expression before cracking into a worried expression, “but seriously y/n if they end up being human traffickers jiwoo and i won’t hesitate to bail you out.”

jiwoo pulled away from the seat and slapped her flexing forearm, “i didn’t take taekwondo for nothing...they’ll never see me coming!”

their comments struck you as odd but you then realized it was their weird way of being sincere and it warmed your heart. and like you were going to a foreign country to meet some internet friends— so it was understandable that they were apprehensive.

“i don’t think they’re going to be human traffickers but thanks guys.” you shook your head quietly. “i know this is all crazy.”

the car went silent momentarily before chittaphon and jiwoo exchanged glances to each other. your usually talkative friends both said nothing as they looked back to you. suddenly a small feeling of doubt settled in your stomach.

your male friend knitted his eyebrows together earnestly, “i’m actually worried y/n, i mean you don’t really know them y’know?”

a twang of hostility hit your heart. you wanted to deny his words but part of you knew that his words were completely warranted. he and jiwoo were just looking out for your best interest but it still felt as though you were being scolded.

jiwoo however interjected before you could muster up a response, “but at the same time we understand how much this means to you, and if you feel truly up for it, then by all means we can’t stop you.”

your hands fiddled with the zipper of your jean jacket unconsciously. “it may sound odd but...” you paused trying to articulate your thoughts, “some of my happiest moments in a long time happened because of them. i’m an adult and i know what i’m getting into, so please have some faith in me. i’m just a nervous as you.”

“we aren’t saying that we don’t trust you it’s just that we care a lot about you.” his words held an edge to them but his tone was laced with some vulnerability. chittaphon wasn’t one for verbal displays of affection or words. the car continued forward as he spoke to you, “i’m actually really excited for you...i just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

now back to the present— a deep breath exited your mouth as the song got to the chorus. your head found its way leaned back onto the wall and your eyes closed. the soft rhythms perfectly contrasted with the abnormal beating in your chest.

it had been a little over five months since you’d met your seven friends in an app you decided to join on a whim. that night it didn’t even cross your mind that these seven men would reveal themselves as some of the best people you’ve met.

since that january night you’d grown closer to them than any other people, save for your two aforementioned friends. you wouldn’t be able to put the amount to fondness you had for them into words. texting them was comparable to a breath of fresh air. with all their eccentricities and personalities meshing, you finally found people you could lose yourself to, a group of weirdos if you will. which is what consequently led you to having an e-boyfriend and pseudo family— but that’s besides the point.

you had a certain warm feeling associated with everyone and the fact that you were meeting them this soon sent butterflies for sure...but since your conversation with your two friends you couldn’t help but hang onto that vine of worry and anxiety.

suddenly the song ended.

before you could get more into your head the intercom indicating that your flight was starting its boarding broke you out of thought.

you finally opened your eyes and instinctively looked down. you hadn’t realized that your phone had been going off the entire time. with a small frown you opened it and quickly skimmed through the conversation that was taking place.

you snickered at the last text you sent and shoved the phone into your pocket. you then briskly got up from your seat and made your way to your place in line.

—

jin stood in the middle of the airport with a handful of balloons and flowers. he looked visibly nervous to any passersby it would have seemed that he was welcoming his significant other home, i mean apart from the fact that he was surrounding by 6 other equally nervous men. each of them were equipped with various gifts and balloons.

jungkook stood in front with a sizeable piece of paper that ‘y/n!!’ written on the front with shaky sharpie. he had been biting his lip in anticipation since they had gotten there.

but the standout guy was of course mr min himself: dawned in a beanie and plain t-shirt yet still managing to sweat up a storm. he stood a little ways from the others with a small teddy bear and a few flowers. he hadn’t said anything from the moment everyone had stuffed into the van, so they thought it was best just to leave him be.

“dude you look like that alien in the doorway meme, lighten up.” taehyung approached him and put his hand on the other’s shoulder.

yoongi scrunched up his face and shot him a look, not saying anything. some of the others gave a weak chuckle in acknowledgment at the two of them.

“why are you so nervous for?” taehyung pried with a smug smile, and leaned up against his friend. “is min yoongi feeling a little bit shy?”

yoongi scoffed and smacked taehyung in the crotch, effectively getting him off his body. if he was being completely honest yes, he was feeling shy but also a flurry of multiple emotions. he also felt like throwing up because of it. however he wasn’t going to barf his guts out just because his girlfriend was coming for the first time.

“pipe down simpletons i think that group of people is from her flight.” jin declared loudly, getting the group’s attention again. the side conversations ceased and all eyes were forward. jungkook immediately put his arms above his head with the sign and waved it around.

“jungkook calm down…” namjoon turned to him in a soft tone, “she might not see it.”

a sizeable crowd from the entrance poured out into the area making it a little bit hard to decipher who was who. that is until hoseok spoke up.

“i think she sees it because she’s speed walking right towards us.” hoseok chimed in almost laughing upon seeing you speed walk with your oversized backpack and luggage.

suddenly, the sound of 7 man children screaming rang out through the entire place. it startled a few people but you didn’t mind and neither did they. you could just see their varying amounts of excitement as they raced towards you at full speed.

forgetting all traces of your doubt and worry your legs carried you until you went face first into jungkook’s chest. you didn’t have time to look up because suddenly you were smothered by multiple arms and hands. they closed in on you effectively wrapping you in a big human burrito that smelled like cologne and sweat.

even if you hadn’t technically met these men before something felt familiar. their presence was warm and welcoming. in their arms you felt like you were home. it felt right.

eventually, they all parted from you letting you finally catch a glimpse of everyone, “damn i didn’t expect you guys to be so good looking in real life.” you whistled in awe putting your hands on your hips. “i knew you were all—oh shit are those things for me?”

“that’s definitely y/n,” namjoon shook his head and looked around “i know these are all last minute gifts but they’re all for you.”

“you guys really didn’t have to…” you nervously laughed, it didn’t matter to you. you were just happy you able to meet the face behinds the texts finally. “but thanks guys i really appreciate it.”

you awkwardly looked at the items in the hands in their hands and then looked at them. their faces were filled with various expressions. but one looming question reigned superior: were you supposed to hold all the gifts or what?

—

and just like that you all had piled into a van with jungkook as the driver and jin in the passenger’s side staring at you. you sat squished between yoongi and taehyung in the 2nd row.

“how was the flight?” taehyung asked turning his head to you.

“i haven’t slept in 24 hours and i feel like i'm in the next dimension.” you said holding the teddy bear and flowers yoongi had gotten you. “but otherwise it was pretty cool.”

“y/n that’s really bad!” jimin pouted and wrapped his arms around you from the seat behind you. his chin rested on your shoulder while you shrugged dramatically.

“why didn’t you sleep?” yoongi asked quietly. you were pretty sure it was the first sentence he had said to you other than ‘here’ when he handed you your gifts. yet it still made your heart beat at inhuman levels. in a good way of course.

“i was just nervous.” you sheepishly admit. “i was really excited to see you guys.”

you heard hoseok laugh from the back, “you nerd!” unbeknownst to you namjoon shot him a look while jimin giggled absentmindedly at your and hoseok’s words.

“you must be really tired?” jungkook looked back momentarily to what was going on. the rowdiness was starting to distract him from driving so jin slapped his forearm and told him to focus.

you let out a loud laugh at the scene before you. much to your relief there was no weird initial awkwardness, it was just like hanging out with old friends for the first time in years. there was a sense of comfortability and familiarity which you supposed was probably the best thing to feel.

“so um do you want me to set up a hotel room or are you and yoongi going back to his place to do adult activities…” jin asked looking over his shoulder at you guys. the question had seemed innocent enough until he had gotten to the latter part. you almost choked on your spit while you could feel yoongi physically tense up beside you.

“jin...” namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. his obvious disappointment could be heard from the back.

you already felt the eyes trained on the two of you before you even opened your mouth. you had forgotten for a second that that was even an option. your face heated up at the thought yet you dismissed it quickly, you had a greasy reputation to uphold. ”i mean if yoongi doesn’t mind then i’d prefer staying with him.”

he shrugged, “whatever you want.”

god having conversations about nsfw topics wasn’t this awkward in the chat. you couldn’t keyboard smash your way out of the embarrassment that came with the topic.

“jin that was very intense…” jimin partially whispered. it was almost as though he was thinking the same thing as you, “so vulgar.”

“thanks for the second hand embarrassment.” hoseok mused while scrolling through his phone, “i could’ve gone my whole life not hearing that come out of your mouth.”

“i just said what you were all thinking.” jin crossed his arms and leaned back into seat, “plus it seems more practical from them to spend time together considering the limited time they have.”

“yeah,” before you could dwell on the fact that you had to go back some time, taehyung nudged you playfully, “i agree with namjoon, you guys need all the time you can get.”

“have you considered shutting up?” yoongi leaned forward to call out his friend though he couldn’t ignore the heat rising in his face and ears. taehyung knew all the buttons to press and yoongi was not having it.

“oh am i making you flustered?” taehyung asked coyly, as if he wasn’t instigating in the first place.

jungkook intervened suddenly, “jimin why were you bent all out of shape if you and taehyung sext in the groupchat—“

namjoon let out a frustrated sigh with apparent annoyance, “ok this conversation is rotting my brain, let’s change the subject.”

so you guys did change the subject, several times actually. they told you about the sheer panic each of them had gone through when jin had dropped the bomb that you were going to make an appearance. they also told you how much trouble it was rounding everyone’s ass up. jin was the most vocal about how they had almost gotten into multiple crashes because of everyone being too rowdy. but i digress.

they droned on until the subject led itself onto food. “so um are we eating or what because i didn’t eat breakfast.” jungkook asked glancing back at everyone. “or do you want to sleep y/n…? you said something about being tired didn’t you.”

“sleep is for the weak jungkook.” you said with a deadpan expression, “and i’m starving so let’s go.”

“i know a place around here but i think you missed the turn.” hoseok mentioned loudly from the back. he proceeded to say somethings in korean which from your duolingo knowledge sounded like directions. you also noted that his voice was much more loud than you thought it would be.

“bet.” jungkook muttered to himself before he took an abrupt u-turn effectively making the entire car swerve and everyone scream profanities.

—

thanks to your big party the manager of the restaurant stuffed all 8 of you into a small separate room. which was probably the best considering that everyone was as chaotic as they were in the groupchat.

it felt a little weird considering each ‘dinner’ you had with them had been through a phone or computer screen. you guessed all those night being secretly envious of them being together all led up to this moment.

that same warm feeling from the airport seemed to encompass the entire room making it impossible for you not to smile.

the conversation was filled with callbacks to things said in the chat from your first encounters to when jungkook found out yeri was a lesbian (he still claimed that he never saw it coming but everyone just knew).

“i hate to say it but i think we should thank jin.” namjoon announced in the midst of the appetizer making everyone quiet down. “without him y/n wouldn’t be here with us right now—“

“you make it sound like he saved her life.” hoseok laughed, “it’s not that serious.”

namjoon raised both his eyebrows, “i’m just saying that because of his financial circumstances y/n would still be in america.”

“you’re absolutely right, but my love for y/n was to powerful for me not bring her.” jin beamed and then stuffed his face with some rice.

“disgusting.” you heard someone mumble making the entire table erupt with laughter. the conversation then went back and forth among everyone mimicking the groupchat closely.

in the middle of everything though, you remembered that your boyfriend was currently sitting next to you quietly observing everyone with a fond look.

his hand closest to yours was at his side while his other was busy stuffing his mouth.

your hand met his free one under the table, immediately you intertwined your fingers with his long ones. his face showed no sign of obvious emotion as he continued to eat. but you didn’t miss the way his eyes sparkle when he finally looked your way.

chittaphon was fucking wrong. how could you be disappointed?

“damn i have to drive all of you home later don’t i?” jungkook made a face of exasperation and shook his head dramatically.

“you’re the one who almost killed us earlier!” jin yelled loudly, obviously offended.

—

the ride up the elevator to yoongi’s apartment is more quiet than the ride to his actual apartment complex. and that was saying something because almost everyone had fallen into an alcohol induced sleep. anyway, he fumbles with the keys to his door as you stand there awkwardly holding your many gifts. a few people pass you by giving you odd looks before he finally manages to open the door.

you can tell that he’s nervous just from how damn long it had taken him. but it was endearing mostly. ‘too cute’, you think to yourself suddenly smiling.

he looks back at you and beacons you in, holding the door open.

his place wasn’t the most upscale, but you expected that given what he had mentioned in the groupchat. you didn’t live in the best conditions either due to your student loans but fuck capitalism am i right?

“so” he begins a little stiffly and puts your luggage next to a nearby lamp, “welcome to my place. i know it’s a little bit shitty...but it’s home.”

“it’s not shitty…” you plop your gifts on his couch haphazardly and offer him a genuine smile. you start walk up to him with your arms spread out. just by the fact that he was squinting you realize that he doesn’t know what you were doing.

“bring it in yoon.” you’re suddenly face first in his chest and now wrapping your arms around his small frame. he lets out a little sigh and shakes his head before wrapping you in his own arms. the two of you stand in the middle of the room for awhile before he pulls away.

“wow you’re really whipped for me.” he smirks to himself and pats your back, “i didn’t expect it this.”

“i didn’t expect you pat me on the back after our first hug either.” you stick your tongue out and pull away from him.

suddenly it hits you how tired you actually are, so you immediately sit down. your body sprawls out onto his couch cushions and you lie down. “bro i’m actually so tired.”

“you look tired,” he stuffs his hands into his pockets, “uh...wait here.”

he walks out of his living room and into his hallway. you can see his shadow from the dim light and vaguely rummage through what you think is a closet

“what are you doing?” you shout, boredly checking your phone and then throwing it to the side.

“i’m getting some stuff hold on.” he says back to you peeping his head out the corner.

you huff and decide to take the time to look at your surroundings. his apartment was pretty much on character, it was definitely minimalistic, but had some pictures of friends scattered here and there.

the thing that caught your attention the most though was a picture of a couple and two boys on his coffee table. it makes you sit up and lean to look at it. he never did talk about his family, if that’s who you thought they were.

he comes waddling back with a bundle of blankets in his arms. but then pauses the moment he sees you looking at the photo. for a split second it looks like he’s going to say something but then decides not to.

“what are those?” you ask confused at both the blankets and his reaction.

“well i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so i thought that i could sleep on the couch.”

“did you forget that we are dating or…?” you raise an eyebrow.

he stood there like a sim character with low autonomy levels. silence filled the room before he just dropped everything and walked over to the couch.

“i didn’t forget i just thought you would feel weird. i mean we’ve never exactly done this before.” his hands cover his face and he takes a seat next to you. he leans back into the cushion and lets out a big huff of breath.

“yeah i get you, but this is a little weird. i’m so used to texting you guys that i wanted to keyboard smash everytime someone said something funny.” you scratched your arm casually, “i’m happy though—that we’re together y'know?”

he agrees and a lull in the conversation finally arrives.

being the nosy imbecile you were, you looked at the picture of the couple and boys again. you guess he noticed this because he speaks up.

“that’s my family.” he mentions plainly, figuring that he better fill you in than leave you in dark, “i don’t really talk much with them anymore.”

“oh...don’t you miss them?” you knew you were potentially treading through dangerous territory.

“no use crying over spilled milk.” he yawns and wraps his arm around your body. his voice is deep and groggy. he says nothing for awhile before quietly saying “you guys are more like my family now to be honest.”

soon after this, almost hesitantly, his hand gently pushes your head near his, and he kisses your forehead gently. just that little gesture makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. you beam and retaliate with a small peck on his lips.

he seems taken aback by your actions which makes you snicker and lay your head down onto his chest.

you can basically feel his heart beating outside of his chest. yet his face looks nonchalant save for the little blush on his cheeks.

“wow do you like me that much?” you tease him in almost a whisper tone. your pointer finger raises to meet his face and poke it.

he frowns and shakes his head, “sorry i like your dumbass self.”

“hey!”

“i’m kidding!”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts #bts au #bts x reader #bts x you #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts fake chats

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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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jae-canikeepyou · 5 years ago

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| untold | j.jh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader genre: angst + fluff a/n: idk but i just feel like breaking your hearts. badly written bc ur girl doesn’t proof read at all hahaha :p fluffy ending since angst endings hits the heart hard. anyway enjoy reading~

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

a sigh from your boyfriend made the atmosphere more tense than before. you both had arrived to his apartment. even at the car earlier, he did not say a word. however the silence was enough for you know what was on his mind.

your friends and acquaintances did say lucky you, for you to hung out with the campus’ star and he didn’t seem to dislike your presence. it hasn’t been a year since you’ve said yes and gotten together with him. he was on every girl’s head and the man of their dreams. it wasn’t all luck and good times though. there’ve been fights with jaehyun, so often that you both had on each other’s nerves. it was normal to fight.

but to jaehyun? not so much.

especially when your relationship was a secret to everyone.

jaehyun sat tiredly on the sofa, no energy to even change his clothes. he looked at you where your heavy eyebags became more visible each day. you wanted to speak but you did know what you were getting yourself into when you did.

you huddled yourself beside him, in hopes he would talk to you. he had his arms wrapped around your waist. “y/n, why are we still doing this in secret?”

“do i have to explain myself again, jae?” you asked. “my parents.. they’re kind but they’re also strict and it’s hard to get my words to them.”

“i know but it’s hard on me too. as a man it kinda hurts my pride when my girlfriend’s.. afraid of what people might think and-”

“it’s not that i’m afraid..” you sighed as you rubbed circles on his palms.

“look, i’m fine if you wanted to keep us a secret at school, but i’m not gonna spend time pretending when i’m off-school too.”

ouch. you didn’t know how much the wound had hurt him, his honey voice turned bad. it was hard for him to endure months of hiding your relationship from everyone, his and your parents included.

you didn’t utter a word after he said that, even if you had a lot of things to say. he might view them as excuses. on the other hand, jaehyun understood the results of dating the daughter of the dean. yes, which explained why you were hard to get, closed off from dating and to focus on academics. your parents had eyes on you 24/7, but you knew they were doing it for your own good.

but he saw it differently and probably took it as a challenge. you were shackled from your parents’ discipline and orders. he knew you were kindhearted and loved them a lot so in one time during lecture, he befriended you and thought you were fun to be with despite not having friends who were ladies. and in the process of getting to know you, he fell in love.

“just a little longer i promise i’ll tell them.” you said softly.

“really? they’ll probably be cross if you tell them now. we should’ve told them when we were still new.” he slid his body to sit on the carpeted floor. his voice colder than usual. “might’ve changed their minds.”

“do you think i got a choice? i’m at a hard place right now.” you furrowed your brows.

he scoffed a laugh, a bitter one. “you got a choice to either break their rules or break my heart.” he spat in a higher tone. “choice, right?”

your quarrels with him were always about this certain topic. nothing else. your eyes stung with thin air, forming tears that you didn’t want them to fall. they did and there was no helping to it. a sniff from you made jaehyun turn around.

he never saw you cry, and it broke his heart seeing your weak self coping with the situation. his mind thought of a lot things that maybe he was too harsh on you. maybe he had put more pressure than it did before you both dated. but who knew? for now he just wanted to stop the innocent tears that were damping his clothes.

you felt constant rubs on your knees, probably his way of comfort as this was a first for him. he was facing you but you chose not to look at him in the eyes. “why does it sound like you think you’re not worth for me?”

jaehyun shot up at your words. “y/n i didn’t mean-”

“or am i not worth it to be yours? you got my heart but it seemed like you didn’t take it fully.” you said between hiccups. “ever since i told you about my parents.”

“nonono babe.” he pulled you to his embrace where you were wrapped by his frame. “you are worth it. i’m just frustrated at the fact that i’m not seeing things in a bigger picture. please don’t think that i don’t love you enough.”

you just sobbed and to him this was new. jaehyun nuzzled himself onto your neck. “oh y/n, i just think saying out loud means it’s real.”

“and hiding us does not make us real?” you sniffed, only to be stopped when your phone buzzed. “i gotta take this.”

jaehyun hit himself internally. stupid. he heard tiny voices telling him he has a handsome face but a fire tongue— qualities of a turn-off.

“hi mom.” your hoarse voice echoed the living area. “no no i’m not crying. i’m not feeling well that’s all. mhm..”

your soft voice and the growing anxiety made jaehyun shuffle in the sofa several times. he only saw your parents from afar and truly they seemed to be people of hard approach, let alone to last a good conversation with them.

“what?”

jaehyun’s heart couldn’t stop from feeling anxious. any word from your parents have always caused him to flinch or to cross his arms.

“you saw me earlier?”

busted..

“y-you want to meet him?”

oh man..

jaehyun practically nudged you, panicking like he did something wrong. however your mother’s tone seemed eager, open and kindhearted than most days. you pressed the call on mute as your eyes shot daggers to your boyfriend, well at least to him that was how it looked like.

“what did she say?” jaehyun bit his lips.

you sighed heavily, but a smile from you was not noticeable for jaehyun to see. “my parents wants have dinner with us tomorrow.”

his expression was as if his soul had left him. “ah r-really?”

you decided to unmute the call. “mom, i think- oh.. i see..” you covered your mouth.

jaehyun had a lot of things in his mind. whatever the outcome, he thought he would be ready for it. his body couldn’t take the silence as he saw you listening to your mother, staring into space.

“okay. we’ll be there. love you too. bye.” you ended the call.

jaehyun has his arms all over the place, plopped down onto the sofa while hitting his head onto a pillow. a bit dramatic but that was because he doesn’t know, yet. “babe! i didn’t agree on this!” he complained, later scoffed at the thought of meeting your parents sooner than expected.

“you didn’t. but your parents agreed.” you said.

“of course i did not- wait what?” his brows knotted. “what did you say?”

“it’s your parents who agreed for the dinner tomorrow.” you shrugged as you tapped his shoulders for him to sit with you on the sofa.

he was still dumbfounded. you waved your hands in front of him. “babe, my mom just told me she’s best friends with your mom.”

“ha?” he asked, looking more dumbfounded. “if that’s the case what’s the point of us doing this in secret?” he groaned, his body slowly laying down.

“i’m sorry..?” you singsonged. “jae, we didn’t know they’re best friends.” you wiggled his sloppy body, a laugh escaping from your lips as he pulled you to his chest.

you got up to where your hands rested on his, admiring him when his smile shocked you. “you’re not angry anymore?”

he pecked your lips, his hands instinctively cupping your neck. “i’m not.”

“isn’t this good for the both of us? i mean we could-”

“i’m very angry at you for making me think the call was gonna be the end of us!” he lifted you in a bridal style, spinning you around. “the short silence was too scary!”

“like the heck i know it’s gonna be a dinner!” you laughed. you felt your body being put down.

jaehyun caressed your cheeks again, kissing you like he did earlier. “did your mother say anything else?”

“if i tell you, will you not freak out? or melt?” you asked with your hands gesturing in the air.

“if that’s what my girl wants, i’ll try not to.” his chuckled.

“you know my parents didn’t want me to date, right?” you bit your lips. jaehyun stared into your eyes, waiting for an answer. “well, my mom met your mom to discuss about me because she had a hunch i was dating. so when she saw us earlier, she took a picture and showed it your mom.”

“and?” he trailed his word.

“your mom was like ‘that’s my son!’ and basically my mom felt giddy because she wanted her best friend’s son for.. me.” you said in one breath, deciding not to repeat it again.

you looked to jaehyun, who was now holding in a smile. he wanted to be a man of his word, but couldn’t anyway because it was about you. “isn’t this kind of an arranged marriage?” he asked.

“i wouldn’t say it’s arranged..” you trailed off. “more like.. destined?”

jaehyun had reached his limit, his body collapsing onto the carpeted floor. you laughed as his ears reddened than before. “i don’t like this! i’m too happy to even look at you right now!” he grabbed and hugged onto a nearby stuffed animal he got from ikea.

“i guess everything’s okay now.” you stood there as you looked down at jaehyun.

“help me up babe.” he acted cute but you weren’t buying it. “please?”

“fine.” you brought forth your hands, only to be pulled down to the floor with jaehyun.

“i love you so much.”

#jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #nct 127 #nct #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun oneshot

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artboitrash · 5 years ago

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His Bloody Rose (Stefano Valentini fanfiction) Chapter 13 - The Gallery

-Stefano's P.O.V.-

I drove my car down the road, off to the college that was hosting my work. Rose sat next to me in the passenger seat, and a small smile crossed my face. The sun was beginning to set, so the golden soft light caused a halo to seemingly appear around her. We will both knock them out tonight. My art will entrance them, and the audience will become completely taken by my newest muse and myself.

A small impulsive flicker crossed my mind. With how close she had felt with me, a strange feeling began to make me want to draw closer to her as well. For now, she is my Calliope, but she is not someone I should let my guard down with.

And yet, I could feel that impulse, itching under my skin. I glanced over at her frozen form, not a simple task given she was to my right, hands placed on her knees and folded into fists. She was breathing deeply, and her eyelids fluttered as she blinked from time to time. I couldn't keep my gaze towards her for too long as I had to watch the road.

A part of me desired her, to have another night in bed with her. Our first night occurred very quickly, and since then I have had a small ache to try it again. However, I know better than to think that's the reason I'm keeping her around.

I slammed my hand against the steering wheel. "Glamorous!"

Rose jumped in her seat, turning to look at me.

"Excuse me, the word I was struggling with earlier was 'glamorous.' I just remembered it now."

A smile branched across her face, and she giggled, sitting back in her seat.

I felt my eye flicker back to her. It traced down her throat and over the folds of her dress, and back up to her styled hair and painted face. I bit my lip slightly, a small amount of anxiety beginning to set in, the same type I feel before going to the opening of all my galleries.

A flicker of wanting to touch her came over me again. While watching the road, I slid my hand off the steering wheel and over the center console. I reached into her lap and grabbed onto one of her hands. I felt her shift in her seat and turn towards me.

"Stefano--...?" She began. Then she silenced herself and sat back.

Her fingers threaded through mine, grasping onto my hand. I pulled it back over the console so my arm wasn't stretched too much. I didn't feel much of anything, mentally, the anxious feeling dampening. Strangely, feeling the warmth of her hand radiate through the leather of my gloves was rather comforting. I slid my thumb against her hand, trying to send a silent thank you message to her.

Something strange about this woman was that she makes me feel rather... happy. Perhaps it's because she is the first person to verbally praise my work, or because she did not try to run from me when she found out my techniques. A part of me wants to praise her, to keep her around me to continue hearing her worship my art.

But praise her for what? I haven't seen much from her, or learned much about her aside from what she's studying in school.

If I believed I could fall in love, I'd say she was a woman after my heart. She's studying the arts in college and has explained how she wants to go on to a formal arts college. She showed me some of her portfolios when she was comfortable enough over this past weekend.

She still needed a trained eye, but her starting photography portfolio wasn't the worst I had seen. She understood the basics, and especially knew enough to appreciate the work of traditional darkroom photography. Her face had turned red when I went through it and found the pile of rejects in the back of the folder.

She had a passion for the 2D arts. She had tried her hand at sculpture and ceramics, but explained she didn't believe she was gifted in that. Even I had to admit her attention to detail was inspiring. She had a love for surrealism, not unlike mine. She voiced her frustrations that she just wanted to make what she believed to be beautiful, and that all everyone asks is just about the message her work is about.

When she told me that, in the moment I was sure I had never mentally understood anyone before then. Before I knew it, I grabbed her by her shoulders and kissed her, giving into an impulse I never expected I'd want from her. I didn't realize I hadn't kissed her first because I wanted to until after I pulled away. In the moment, it felt like I had found someone that truly understood. She wasn't like me, but she understood what it was like to be rejected simply for a vision of beauty, and the portrayal rather than the message being missed entirely.

"What do you want me to refer to you as?" Rose spoke up, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Like... It's the first time we'll be out in public as, well, a couple... So I was wondering if you want me to call you my boyfriend, my significant other, something like that?"

I pulled down a side road, passing the sign declaring we were entering the college campus. I thought to myself for a moment, keeping my mind on the road in front of us, seeing the lights of the arts building still illuminated.

"Hmm..." I mused, coaxing the idea from my head. "I hadn't given that enough thought. I suppose, for now, you can refer to me as your boyfriend."

She nodded slightly, releasing my hand as we pulled into a parking spot. The car shut off, silent, and a light flicked on above us as I opened my door. I let myself out of the car, quickly walking around to help her out of her seat.

I opened her door and offered her my hand. She slung a small handbag I had loaned her over her shoulder, taking my hand and lifted herself out of the seat. She looked properly elegant, as though going to an evening party. She was only missing a small champagne glass and the low lighting.

She leaned into me, holding onto my hand as we began walking towards the arts building. "You know, it is usually a lot more casual than this." she tried explaining for the eighth time.

"So you've said, but I never take chances with my galleries. I always present myself in a more-than-casual manner."

She leaned her head against my shoulder briefly. The heels I had chosen for her made her the same height as me, making her crane her head to complete the gesture.

"I almost wish you did not work in the gallery, so you could be surprised by the work being presented." I feigned a sigh. "But I suppose if you did not, we would have never met."

She laughed quietly. "I know. I'm sure it'll look lovely once we go inside. I wasn't able to really look at them when installing it. I'm sure I can take in all of the pictures in detail when we get in there, since I've only studied them as proofs."

I allowed a small smile to cross my face again. The word "only" hung in my head, she only saw the proofs, and sounded excited to see them in a larger format. This was something different than what I had been receiving. I was excited to finally be receiving the recognition I deserve.

I squeezed her hand. "If you must know, I am ecstatic to see what you think of your own image, and what others think of your beauty along side your photo."

We enter the building as the sky was turning a vibrant orange and red hue. I guided her into the hallway with a small hand placed on her back. We started walking to the gallery, seeing a small amount of people already in the room. There was a buffet table right outside the door, lined mostly with pizza boxes and potato chips. I internally groaned, but kept a stoic smile on my face as we walked down the hallway.

Carolinn walked out of the gallery as we neared the door. "Oh, you're here!" she said with a relieved smile. I watched her glance to Rose and a flicker of confusion cross her face. I saw her mouth shift as though to say something else, but she didn't speak again.

"I hope we are not too late." I said with my usual polite tone.

"Oh, no, of course not!" She said, moving to the side to let us in. "You're just in time! We opened the doors less than thirty minutes ago."

I chuckled quietly. "Thank you for having me. I'm quite ecstatic to be shown here."

Carolinn moved out of our way and continued on her way passed us. Rose walked forward into the gallery, now transformed with only the studios lights illuminating my work. I followed her in as she turned and and began to focus on the framed work hanging from the ceiling. I bit back a stronger smile as I watched her face make an impressed expression. It was several smaller, gray scale images of dead bodies, the frames hanging from the ceiling attached to each other.

Rose glanced back at me with a smile and continued on to the next piece. It was my creation "Innocent Gift" in a larger frame than what she had seen. She looked at each picture carefully as though she had never seen them before. She kept her hands together, crossed over her lap respectfully.

We finally got to the back of the room, where the pieces were intentionally funneling the audience. This piece was directly across the room and perfectly visible from the attendant's desk. Rose was still focusing on my photo "Bouquet" as she turned to the piece in the back of the room.

As we were the only people facing this piece I let my mask slip as I watched her face. She stopped and stared, her face immediately shifted and her impressed gaze shifted. Her eyes widened slightly, and I could only imagine what her heartbeat would feel like against me as her face flushed as it did only when it began to pound roughly.

Rose turned to me with her face fixed with a surprised expression. I stared at her, watching her face shift, showing she wanted to say something.

I smiled, shifting closer as she turned back to the largest framed photo in the gallery. My gift to her that I was sure would be put up when she wasn't around. It was her image; my best work yet - despite missing the death every other piece held. I had added the clock this time, and worked hard over the week to perfect this image and show her as I had seen it that night.

"'Midnight Dance...'" I said lowly, quoting the plaque beneath it. "A new model approached me a few weeks ago and asked to be portrayed in my newest series. I think I did wonderfully in capturing her essence and beauty."

"I... I didn't know this was going to be shown tonight." She murmured, turning to me. Her face was flushed and I could tell she was almost completely embarrassed.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned away from Rose to face whomever was trying to get my attention. It was Carolinn again.

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but I wanted to ask when you wanted to speak." She said hurriedly.

I politely smiled. "I'm free for the evening, so I'm able to speak when you feel it's time."

She glanced around briefly, judging the amount of people that were there. "Maybe about in hour, to an hour and a half?"

I nodded to her. "That works. Find me when you think it's time for me to speak to the attendants."

"Thank you." She turned on her heel and hurried off through the gallery doors again.

My eye flickered across the nearly empty room as someone walked in. The man was in casual clothes and had ruffled short blonde hair. I twitched my left hand slightly towards Rose as I recognized him. I turned away and focused on Rose's image, the subject herself still looking at it. Because of my head movement she turned her head and smiled at me. I glanced towards her and kept my smile on my face.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight." A woman's voice floated towards me.

I glanced to my left as a smartly dressed woman approached us, wearing a tan dress suit. I recognized her and instantly felt anger boil in my stomach.

"Ah, nor did I expect to see you, Miss." I said in an even tone. "But I attend every gallery opening I am in, as I see it as polite to be present to answer any questions."

Susan Phi laughed dryly. "I've only attended one of your galleries, so I thought attending another might give me insight to your... 'vision...'"

She glanced around and feigned disgust. I could already tell she was intentionally trying to get a rise out of me, so she could continue her slander against me. Instead I moved closer to Rose, pretending I was shifting my weight, partially to anchor myself to reality and not allow myself to be enraged.

"Grand. I'm always eager to educate those that don't understand my work."

She smiled with a crooked, thin line pronouncing some lines on her face. "I'm afraid I have seen enough already. You seem to have some issues learning how to cater to the art world."

"Miss Phi, I'm afraid I have no interest in catering or pandering to people who do not enjoy my work."

"Well, you should." She sneered at me as she seemed to become a little upset that I wasn't giving her what she wanted. "If you want to receive any recognition, maybe you should think about taking constructive criticism seriously."

"Maybe you should turn off the recorder in your pocket." Rose spoke up.

I glanced at Rose as she stared pointedly at the reporter.

"Sorry, I thought this was a two-person conversation." Susan said in response. "Excuse us we were bothering you from viewing this... Art."

"It's not a conversation, ma'am. If you want to record someone I think you need permission first. You're treating it like an interrogation so you can get something to gossip about Mr. Valentini. You should learn the definition of art before confronting someone."

Susan initially tried to spout a witty response, but her mouth opened and the air caught in her throat. Her eyebrows raised up, surprised.

"Both the bottom of your phone poking out of your pocket and the mic on your jacket aren't very well hidden." Rose continued. "Going around to art galleries in hopes of catching the artist to stir up drama in the art world isn't a good idea for progression or even as a good business. Just because it puts money in your pocket doesn't mean you won't make enemies or make people angry with you."

Susan Phi stared at her. Finally her face turned frustrated, and she reached into the jacket of her ensemble. She yanked at something attached to a black wire and pulled it out with a rough snap. She threw it down at her feet, and rushed passed us. I turned and watched as she began to walk out of the building.

"Mark my words, your photos will never be accepted in the art world, especially after this!" she said, turning and shouting at us.

"And good riddance..." mumbled Rose.

She turned to me and saw me staring at her. My public mask must have faltered because she covered her mouth with her fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean--" she muttered. "I didn't mean to jump in on your conversation with her. She shouldn't treat you like that; I read her article on you a few weeks ago, and I couldn't help but feel she only did it to--."

She gasped slightly as my left hand grasped her right wrist. I didn't realize at first that it was so tight around her, and I loosened my grip. I leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"Follow me upstairs."

I released her arm and left her stunned. I walked out of the gallery and down the hall as I listened for her heels to begin walking after me.

#Stefano Valentini #the evil within 2 #the evil within stefano #stefano #stefano valentini fanfiction #tew #tew2 #tew2 stefano #His Bloody Rose #Chapter 13 #The Gallery

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vesperlionheart · 5 years ago

Text

Pompeii 53

Sakura woke and realized it was too early to be awake, only to jump out of bed and run for the toilet as the pounding behind her head made the rest of her come undone. She threw up into the toilet, thankful for small mercies. After the first lurch there was a moment when she thought she was done before nausea hit her again. Her head was ringing and she had to shut her eyes to it.

There were footsteps coming up behind her and she heard her door creaking back shut. Then there were hands combing through her hair, pulling it back. Sakura glanced up and relaxed when she recognized Sai.

He didn’t say anything, but watched with a worried expression as she emptied the last of her stomach with what was left of her dignity. She moved off her knees and rolled against the wall and Sai followed, hovering like a shadow.

“Sakura?”

“It’s fine, just...something I ate,” she whispered, feeling the sore parts of her throat rub raw. She needed to wash her mouth out and brush her teeth, but she was too tired to stand just yet.

“No one else was getting sick,” Sai helpfully supplied. “Are you sure?”

Sakura cracked one eye open and pouted. Sai stood up and leaned over her to turn on the sink and fill a cup with water. He crouched down a moment later and urged her to have a sip. Sakura forced herself to stand first, but accepted the cup to use in washing out her mouth.

Sai reached behind her and turned on the lights, flooding the dark room with color. Sakura flinched and shut her eyes to it, but not before she noticed the irritation of her scars.

“Your marks!”

Sakura spit out the water and bent over the sink, hiding them from view with her loose hair. “It’s fine.”

Sai pawed at her hair, pulling it back enough to see the scars on her neck, standing out darker and meaner than before. “What are they doing to you?”

The memory came back a moment too late. The proof was in her hands, under her fingernails. “It was me.”

“Wh-what?” Sai’s face showed his confusion well. He had come a long way from the emotionless boy who had to learn how to smile. “What do you mean it was you?”

His eyes were as open and clear as they were beautiful, making Sakura uneasy to show herself to him when she looked anything less than her best, though she knew better. She knew Sai didn't care about superficial appearances and it was only her anxieties that whispered such cruel things in her head.

Sakura took a deep breath and found the words.

“I did this to myself, in my sleep. I’ve done it a few times...when I have nightmares. I can feel her hands on my neck and I’m back there.” Sakura raised her head and stared at her face in the mirror. She touched one of the marks on her neck. “I’m back there and she’s killing me all over again. I just wanted to get her hands off. I just wanted...I…”

Sai’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind and she watched him in the mirror press himself close to her. His head was bowed into her back, shivering. Sakura reached down and rubbed her hands over his cold fingers.

“I’m better now,” Sakura whispered. “Thank you for coming to check up on me.”

“I don’t want to see you like this. Why is it still hurting you? You’re healing I thought.”

“I am,” she sighed. “My wounds are sealing up and one day not even these marks on my neck will be around, but not all wounds are visible, honey.”

“Why is it still bothering you so bad?” Sai lifted his head enough to press his lips to her spine and kiss the rise of her bones there. “I want you to be better. Isn't there something I can do, or some way I can take this from you?”

She thought her words over carefully before responding. Trauma was hard to understand for most people, even after experiencing it first hand. She understood where her nightmares were coming from, and she knew they were irrational, but the fear still ate at her, gnawing and nibbling on different days.

“It was a serious moment in my life where I nearly died. I’ve never experienced fear like that before. When someone gets hurt, even after they heal or hear an apology, the matters aren’t always fixed so easily.”

She thought of Sasuke in the streets of Pompeii, looking to her for an easy forgiveness. She could forgive him, but nothing would really change. Her pain still existed. Her trauma still haunted her into the night. He didn’t want forgiveness. He wanted her to make him feel better.

“What do I do?” Sai whispered into her neck.

Her hearing wasn’t what it once was, even with Tsunade’s magic and medicine, but Sakura still heard Sai’s confusion loud and clear. Even without sound, she felt the vibration of his plea on her skin.

Sakura turned around and reached for his face. Sai let her do as she pleased, but kept his arms around her waist. “You’ve done more than you know. I dream about you, ya know?”

Sai blinked, surprised. “Me?”

“Yeah, I have lots of different dreams, but you’re a hero in the one’s I’m lucid enough to control. I see you save me and I wake up knowing you’re in this house, close to me. You are my hero. I’m comforted by your presence more than you know.”

“My presence brings you peace?”

“Of course.”

Sai paused to consider this and then nodded. “Would me staying closer to you at night bring you even more peace?”

Sakura snickered before she could stop herself. “Wa-was that your way of trying to sleep with me?” she asked on a laugh, knowing well enough that his desire to sleep with her was nothing more nefarious than cuddling.

He had asked several times in the past and had tried to wheedle his way under her covers more than once. Maybe it had something to do with being so emotionally stunted, but Sai was handsy when left unchecked. Sai loved to trace lines up and down her bare arms, or draw invisible designs into the skin of her wrist with nothing more than the pads of his fingers. His desire to fall asleep next to her was just another example of how touch starved he really was.

“Why is it bad? Does it scare you?”

“No, I trust you Sai, I just…” Sakura couldn’t help but smile. Her fear washed away by his antics. “Are you teasing me right now?”

“No, I honestly want to sleep with you.” He jiggled his shoulders for emphasis.

Sakura rolled her eyes. “If the others could hear you now.”

“They also want to sleep with you. It’s been a topic of conversation on more than one occasion and Indra has threatened to fight several people because of it. Apparently he’s ‘old fashioned’ according to his brother.”

Sakura ducked her head into Sai’s chest to muffle her giggles. “Oh no, don’t tell me that,” she breathed. “I’ll not be able to look any of my friends in the face tomorrow without thinking about it.”

“Then you can just face me?”

Sakura flicked at his nose and laughed when she saw his smirk. He was a bit dense at times, but it seemed she was underestimating him more and more. He laughed back and tugged her back to rock between his arms, like one would with a baby.

“Hang on,” Sakura broke free from her sway and crossed the room to her bed. She pulled off the sheets and comforter before tossing a couple of pillow over her shoulder to Sai, who caught them with ease. “You can carry those down for me.”

“Down where?”

“Just follow and be quiet. Everyone else is asleep.”

Sai did as he was bid and tip toed behind her, as silent as a shadow down the stairs and into the main living room. Sakura dropped her blankets and started to tug two of the couches around before throwing her blankets over them. She pinned the blankets down on the backs of the couches with a few well placed books and then took her pillow to throw underneath the blanket fort.

“What are you doing?” Sai asked, kneeling down to where several couch pillows had fallen.

Sakura felt giddy as she joined him on the floor. “I would do this all the time as a child. It’s a pillow fort.”

“Don’t you mean a blanket fort?”

“Same difference, come on in.”

Sakura tugged on his wrist and then crawled in under the sheets only to turn around and pull her comforter in after her. There were a handful of fluffy throws she tugged off the couch that were useful enough to cushion the floor under them. Even with a plush carpet, the floor was the floor.

“What are we to do here?” Sai asked. He crawled in after her and turned around.

Sakura tugged him down to lay atop a pillow like her and then she threw her comforter over him as well. “Just take a nap, that’s what pillow forts are meant for.”

Sai’s eyes lit up as the comforter settled over his shoulders. “You mean...we get to sleep together?”

“Something like that,” Sakura admitted around a yawn. “Just...go to sleep.”

Sai nodded and then settled in, scooting closer to Sakura’s side of the fort. She didn’t move but she didn’t open her eyes either. Hesitantly, he reached for her hand under the comforter and held it in his, content to fall asleep at last.

This time, there weren't any nightmares.

Sakura knew the upcoming emergency elections were a big deal, but she didn’t know how big of a deal they would be in her own house. Kin, Dosu, and Zaku especially seemed hyper invested in everything said by the candidates and the pollers who were featured on the news.

Debates were in the evening, after everyone had a chance to come home from work and watch TV, but before the debates each candidate had an opportunity to sit down and answer questions on the local news station.

“Transparency! That’s really not too much to ask. We live in Pompeii for that reason. We’re sick and tired of lies and hiding things. We want to know the truth and for our leaders to be honest with us,” a younger woman entered to the camera before moving off down the sidewalk to carry on with her day’s errands.

“Amen sister,” Zaku cheered, raising a fist and nodding along. Kin made a face at him but it was Dosu who kicked at Zaku’s back, sending the boy tumbling off his pillow seat.

“Hey! Don’t be like that. I’m allowed to have emotions.”

Kin sneered. “You’re not allowed to be annoying.”

“Says who?”

“Says the world, so sit down and shut up,” she snapped back.

Sakura grinned from her place in the kitchen where she helped Indra with the desserts. Cooking was fun, but she really enjoyed unwinding with a good pastry of cake to bake. She doubted she would ever grow out of her sweet tooth and that was just fine considering how many others in the house loved her desserts.

“They’ve been interviewing people all day. Pretty soon they’re going to have talked to every last person in town. How many people have you recognized?” Ashura asked, leaning over to watch Sakura’s hands fold the dough. He seemed oddly fascinated with the process in a way his brother disapproved of.

“A couple,” Sakura answered honestly. She hadn’t bothered to watch every personal interview, but she recognized the voices of a couple of people.

“Is it weird to see them on TV?” Ashura asked.

“Nah. Hang on, can you move these to the side, I need to spread the extra flour so this doesn’t stick.”

Ashura moved the items off the counter for her and watched as she continued to work the dough until she was satisfied.

“And what are your opinions on the candidates, both official and otherwise?” the news anchor asked.

Sakura slipped and ended up running her hand off the dough. She scowled and looked up to watch the segment feature a number of campaign posters. In addition to Itama Senju and Tsunade Senju, Mai Terumi was also running, but the fourth poster was the same home made one she had seen during her walk through town. The candid photo of her was still the same.

Indra stopped his work to watch her as well.

“I think we’re better off without a mayor to be fucking honest,” Hidan sneered before moving away from the camera shoved in his face. He walked behind a tower of tools and then shouted “Anarchy for the people!” somewhere off screen. The camera turned away just in time to avoid the flash of something exploding in his shop.

“I still don’t trust the doctor. She’s not been around since that incident. Pretty suspicious if you ask me. What does she have to hide?” another random citizen answered.

“Bullshit!” both Kin and Zaku screamed at the same time while Dosu threw a pillow. Their reactions made her grin.

“I don’t think it’s fair to put someone who doesn’t want to be in the public eye on a pedestal to criticize or worship,” Hinata Hyuga said, standing in front of a store with her sister at her side. Her eyes were hard and narrowed. “Sakura Haruno has not entered herself into this race and should not be made into a talking point for cheap news. After everything she’s gone through, can’t you understand her desire for privacy? Give her that at least.”

Then, of all people, it cut to Ino who was openly glaring into the camera. She was wearing her apron from work and the salon was in the background. “Itama Senju, are you kidding me? The child is a joke? He’s even more of a puppet than Sasori,” she sneered. Someone off to the side shouted ‘hey!’ to her Sasori comment but Ino flipped them off outside the camera’s edge.

“Hey, you asked. The Senju kid is just a puppet for his brothers and you’ll see that. It’s about time we moved away from the old families who make these messes and cover them up. Tsunade has always been honest about stuff like this, even when it wasn’t popular. She has my vote.”

“What about Mei Terumī?”

Ino shrugged. “Don’t know her as well. She seems decent, but she’s not my first pick.”

“I need to send Ino a gift basket or something,” Sakura sighed. “The girl is too good for me. Hinata too. Why is it so hard for other people to be that smart?”

Kin laughed from the living room. “Because they’re not women!”

Zaku whined in complaint but Dosu just shrugged. “That’s fair.”

The news program cycled through a couple more people before a commercial break that ended in an update on city maintenance story that sounded dry and rehashed. There really wasn’t any new news worth covering that wasn’t the election. It was all anyone seemed to care about.

Sakura finished putting her cookies into the oven and set the timer before taking off her apron and joining Dosu on the couch. She heard the front door open and close while the television cut to an exclusive interview clip the reporter had from a time she met with Itama Senju.

“Pompeii has been my home since forever. Yes it is important to me because of my family, but it’s also super important to me personally. This is the place I’ve made my best memories.”

Itama Senju

The adult on the screen smiled more like a child and less like the man posing in suits and promising tremendous things in fancy, rhyming campaign slogans.

“Don’t trust that smile,” Yamato said, sliding up behind Sakura and hugging her around the waist. He leaned down and placed a kiss into her scalp before mumbling a tired ‘I’m home’ into her hair.

“Welcome home,” Sakura greeted.

She reached up with her free hand to run her fingers through his hair. He didn’t pull away but she felt the way his shoulders sagged at her touch. She scratched lightly, catching her fingers in the loop of his bun, but he just groaned in quiet appreciation when his hair came undone around his ears. It was getting almost as long as hers.

“You sound tired,” Sai commented. He was hugging a pillow to his chest and scooting closer to where Sakura sat on the couch. “Was it long?”

“The hours were the same, but the day felt like it lasted forever,” Yamato admitted, face still buried in Sakura’s hair. He seemed reluctant to let her go.

Sai glanced from Sakura to Yamato and hummed in understanding. “I think that time can feel as if it is moving slower when there is something positive you anticipate in the future. I’ve experienced this myself and I can relate.” He paused a moment before nodding and adding, “But welcome back.”

Yamato lifted his head from Sakura’s hair to watch the television flash with different shots of Itama. Sakura remembered then that Yamato had a complicated history with the whole of the Senju family, not just Tobirama and Hashirama. Itama had to be a part of his dark upbringing too, right?

“Is he really so terrible?” Sakura asked, pulling her hand away.

“Not terrible, but untrustworthy. He’s about as flimsy as a jellyfish, with a spine to match. He’ll talk a good story about doing the right thing and standing up to his brothers, but he folds easy.” Yamato’s eyes flashed dangerous. “He can’t be counted on to do anything good if its hard or against his brother’s wishes.”

“So he’s a puppet then?” Zaku guessed.

Kin snorted. “I could have told you that. Isn’t that what I said last night, Dosu? I told you he looked like an oven mitt. Ha.”

“That’s what you meant?” Dosu whispered, looking dazed.

“He’s a puppet, of course that’s what I meant!”

Zaku and Dosu both shrugged.

“Debates are starting,” Sakura said, leaning forward. Yamato pulled his hands away only to move around the couch and sit himself down on the floor at her feet. He leaned back and played with her knees until she returned her hands to his hair, brushing her fingers through in soothing patterns.

In the kitchen Indra took out her cookies and replaced the finished tray with the next batch to be baked so she wouldn’t have to get up from her spot and deprive Yamato of his simple pleasure.

The debate rolled on and the first few questions asked of the three candidates were soft balls that had nothing of real merit. No one was going to cast their vote based on what the candidates thought of public education (pay the teachers more!)or road maintenance.

But eventually the subjects evolved and changed. There was an upturn in immigration to Pompeii as more and more visitors were coming in to stay. The hotels and airbnbs were all filling up at an unprecedented rate. Was this an issue of concern?

“The more the merrier, Pompeii is a safe and desirable haven for all. We welcome new friends gladly.” Itama laughed and threw open his arms in a gesture to drive home his point while both Mei and Tsunade frowned.

“That’s an interesting stance since the candidate has expressed concern with other, pre existing members of Pompeii’s community not being desirable neighbors. I’m not sure where his racism ends.”

Kin shot up and screamed, punching the air while Zaku and Dosu both cheered in their own way for Tsunade’s defense of their position.

It was Mei who spoke next, even though it looked like Itama wanted to defend himself as soon as possible. Mei leaned over her podium, close to the mike and stared out into the studio audience as she spoke. “It’s idealistic to think we are safe after enduring a great scare, but are we really? Is Pompeii truly as safe as can be when Orochimaru is still unaccounted for?”

“Orochimaru hasn’t been an issue the police can’t deal with. As for my racism that is slander and uncalled for malarkey of the worst kind. I’ve only shown concern for the safety of our people. Our peace was hard won we should do all we can to preserve it,” the Senju boy complained.

“Candidate Itama Senju,” the moderator interrupted. “Does that mean you would condone investigating Orochimaru sightings?”

“There haven't been any such sightings to investigate,” he said. “If there were it would be different but the only sightings we have are of rogue agents within our borders.”

“Then you’re as blind as your brothers,” Mei interrupted, cutting in out of turn. The moderator tried to cut her off but Mei ignored him and spoke passionately into her mike. “If you’re not seeing the snake it's because you don’t want to see him, but he’s there and the citizens from the Kiri district of Pompeii can attest to that if you bother to hear their voice. Orochimaru is still out there and he’s just as much of a threat as the Kaguya kami was.”

#mild self harm mentioned #Pompeii #Weird Wednesday #our fic #writing #fanfiction

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rosaliamorais · 5 years ago

Photo

a guide to eventually getting framed for murder by the police, probably, as told by rosa.

mentioned: @ivyleagves, @holdenwoodz, @figurchead

Part One ( You. )

Do you have any criminal history? Anything big or small that you want to make us aware of?

“No.” The answer is a little too quick, a little too panicked to seem entirely true. Her nerves are shot, her blood is laced with caffeine. She can’t stop shaking; hopefully they chalk it up to her anxiety. That is, after all, a major part of why she can’t seem to sit still, her usual decorum is lost-- forgotten and left to rot on the forest floor, just as she had been. Just as she’d learned Nathaniel had been. That thought churns her stomach, brings a welling of tears to her eyes. She squeezes them shut for just long enough to clear her vision and not a second more. Closing them for too long is a mistake. Trying to force herself into falling asleep for the past two nights was enough proof of that. Even still, her quick answer boiled down to mostly being about the fact that the other twenty-nine students involved in this case now knew her deepest, darkest secret. Unfortunately for some of the police officers in this very precinct, they knew it too. They just hadn’t needed the blog to tell them. “I have no criminal record. I’d be pretty stupid to pursue law, if that were the case.”

How have you spent the few weeks back at college? What have they been like?

An incredulous gaze lifts from the place her hands are fidgeting on the table, brows furrowing as she tilts her head. “Are you kidding me?” A breathy laugh, cold and unamused. “I’ve spent them in total fear, Elaine.” She says the name with the venomous taste of condescension on her tongue, only to turn to the younger officer immediately after, her expression puzzled. “You’re sure you want to work here, Mikey? I’m pretty sure you’d be better off training under Starsky and Hutch.” The girl who would’ve come into this interview all of a week ago was nowhere to be found amidst her foul temperament and biting remarks today. In spite of the current state of affairs surrounding her reputation, Rosa had always been respectful to the right authorities, even if she felt they were undeserving.

The person answering these questions retained nothing of that polite, well-mannered mask. “They’ve been horrifying. One day I’m celebrating making it to my senior year, the next I’m worrying about whether or not any of the people who knew Daisey were going to see graduation.” A faux-thoughtful expression crosses her face before she speaks again. “Oh, and then the local police force decided to keep us all on lock-down, like we’re kindergartners on a field trip. And would you believe that it didn’t help anything at all, because four of us went missing under their oh-so watchful eyes? One of us were even murdered? The second one in a month? I don’t know. Maybe, if you ignore all of that crap, it’s been a great last year before for law school.”

Part Two ( Daisey. )

How did you know Miss. Rutherford? What was the nature of your relationship?

“We barely associated. We had a few petty arguments now and then; academic rivals, I suppose.” You guys aren’t asking the right questions. This won’t help anything. The thoughts nearly tumble from her careless lips, only kept back by Rosa’s tightly clenched jaw. “She was a cruel and vindictive sociopath, but I’m sure you’ve gathered that much. Even with your way of investigating. Point is, I didn’t care about her until she went missing. I was just focused on getting into Harvard. I don’t have the time to spare on actively hating someone. Other than being a snarky annoyance, Daisey wasn’t on my radar. Everyone was on hers, though. Girl had no life aside from getting off to the sound of people crying.”

Do you remember where you were the night Daisey went missing? If so, where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with?

“I was at Oz Lamar’s party, same as basically everyone else at St. E’s. I spent part of the night with my gi-- my friend, Ivy Westbrook. We did shots together, I got super drunk, and then I met Holden Woods and we became besties in the bathroom.” She produced her phone in order to scroll through several of their blurry, intoxicated pictures together. “These span over an hour. So, clearly I was having the time of my life, I guess.” At least the change of subject subdued her sudden temper, her demeanor visibly simmering down.

Did you notice anything strange about Daisey’s behavior the night she went missing? Did you notice anything suspicious about anyone else you ran into that night?

“All I remember of Daisey that night is seeing her dry humping someone who was definitely not her fiance.” That’s all she plans to say, before she decides to tell them more before they can demand it. “I saw her making out with someone else. I don’t know who it was, because I’d assumed it was the guy-- is his name Octopus? No, that’s stupid. I don’t know.” She takes a second to collect her thoughts, lips pursed in her concentration. “Anyway, I thought it was him. Clearly, I didn’t want to be privy to a peep show, so I ran through the hall. That’s when I ran into the poor guy. Completely unaware Daisey was hooking up with someone else.”

Where were you the night Daisey’s body was recovered?

“I heard while I was in the grocery store. Everyone around me started talking about it, and someone turned on the TV. Everyone in the store just stopped and stared, horrified. No one wanted to believe it. Regardless of what kind of person she was, she didn’t deserve to die.” Rosa can still recall the look on every single stranger’s face that day. “It was so... quiet in there after the broadcast went off. Not another word was spoken, like an infinite moment of silence.”

How familiar are you with the Ashmont woods? Have you been there often? Have you recently ventured out here? If so, why?

“Fuck you.” She pushes her chair back with a deafening screech of the legs against the floor, poised to get up and leave. An empty gesture, apparently, since she stays in her seat. The room is blending together now, her eyes trying to find something to anchor her to the room, to remind her of where she is. Each of her hands find the lining of her seat, her white-knuckled grip doing nothing to help. She finds herself breathing in uneven patterns, heart palpitating as she tries to distract herself. This is pathetic: one mention of the woods and she’s unraveling, spiraling into a panic attack faster than she’s ever done so before. She’s avoiding either officer’s gaze out of humiliation, unwilling to ask for help. The sound of her own voice calling out that night, begging for a savoir, is an echo in her mind. The concrete floor of the police station suddenly looks a lot like the blood-riddled leaves coating the ground in the Ashmont woods.

You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re here. The voice reminding her of her safety isn’t her own. It’s Ivy’s, gentle and careful and warm, the same words she’d woken up to, after being pulled from a nightmare on the night they spent together. The memory slowly overtakes the one Rosa’s trapped in, the rough edges of the treeline enveloping her smoothing out, fading back into the recesses of her mind as she concentrates on breathing. Her relief is palpable as the comfort of home brings her back to her senses slowly, allowing her to melt into the chair once again. A hand covers her eyes as Rosa motions for the questions to continue and clears her throat. “I’m intimately familiar with the depths of that forest, considering how you and your incompetent officers nearly let me die there, thanks for reminding me.” She broke her words in order to pull in a deep sigh, the only thing keeping her from crying being her adamant desire not to deal with these people for a second time. “I don’t want a break, I’m fine. Keep asking your stupid fucking questions, because I’m not coming back for another one of these.”

Part Three ( the Investigation. )

Do you have feelings towards the investigation? Any comments?

“Just one,” Rosa takes a moment to steady herself before she looks the lead detective in the eye once again, defiance scribbled across her features, jaw set. “Do better before someone finds dead student number three in some storage building.”

Do you have any people you feel the police should look into? Please, let us know who and why.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to answer these inane inquiries, and her expression shows it. “I guess the fiance. I wouldn’t be happy if I found out the girl I was engaged to was sleeping with other people. I don’t know if he knew, so I’d break that to him gently. Daisey was a good liar.”

Part Four ( Weekly Events. )

Where were you kidnapped from? What do you remember of your abduction?

She’s moving uneasily in her chair once again, the only thing holding her facade together the mantra she’s still repeating in her head. Nerves make it hard for her to be angry, the rage from a few moments ago swapped out with unease, her hands back to wringing together, her foot beginning to tap against the floor. “I don’t remember any of that. Doctors said I could’ve blocked it out, or something, but I can’t even remember waking up that morning. As far as I’m concerned, that entire day is gone.”

What details do you recall from the time you were captured to the time you were released?

“Details?” Rosa’s disapproving scoff is half-hearted now, as she fights to recall the fuzzy memories in as calculating a way as possible. She couldn’t-- wouldn’t-- freak out again. “There aren’t details. At least, not for me. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak. I was awake for all of it, and I couldn’t even get the blindfold off.” The tears that’d made such a fuss trying to escape her eyes are finally streaming freely down her face, but she’s too preoccupied to notice. “My arms were tied down to a chair,” her hands instinctively gravitated to the burns on her wrists, “and my legs were tied together. My mouth, um, was duct taped… and… there were these headphones on me. Noise cancelling, I guess, unless whoever took me was a monk.” She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat, eyes searching the table in front of her as she went on. “They fed me this disgusting-- I guess soup? And gave me water twice a day. They were always wearing gloves, so I don’t even know if they had long fingernails.”

Did you learn anything about your kidnapper? Any facial details, an accent, any knowledge that you can share to help police in their investigation?

Her irritability resurfaces at lightning speed as she realizes how little she’s being listened to. A spark of recognition lights her face up, jaw dropping as she wiped her cheeks in a fervor. “Wait, no, I remember it. I remember everything.” Shaking hands ushered for the detective to grab her pen and paper. “Write this down, hurry-- before I forget again.” Rosa nods to herself as she begins to recount everything she knows. “It was a man, stocky build. He had white hair, and… it was spiky. A dark goatee, with a little light patch right in the middle. I couldn’t see his eyes, because he was wearing these thin, plastic, black sunglasses.” She clapped once, as if in celebration. “And every time he came to give me food, he pulled my headphones off just enough for me to hear him scream FLAVORTOWN! as he poured it down my throat.”

“Oh, wait, that’s Guy Fieri. I guess I didn’t miraculously remember anything since the last time I answered that, two minutes ago.”

Were you aware of any of the other kidnap victims when you were taken? Do you have any information or insight into the death of Nathaniel Ballantyne?

“I thought I was the only one until I heard people talking about the others. I had no idea there were more of us. I don’t even know if we were in the same place.” She stands up with her shoulders straight, the clothes she’d tried to sleep in still hanging freely off her figure. “As fun as this was, I’m going to go back to bed and do my very best to remember every detail of my excruciating days in hell so you can ultimately waste it on your corkboard and red string investigative approach. See you when the next round of people die, yeah?” With that, she takes her graceful leave.

#tw: anxiety #tw: death mention #tw: panic attack #veritasinterrogation #LET'S GO BAYBE WOO WOO WOO WOO--

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