#self satisfying his need for her to be alone and split from her family at the end

[reiverreturns]

do you ever just think about how eivor’s whole personal arc is set in the context of her believing varin was a coward and weak for sacrificing himself to kjotve for his clan. not understanding that love doesn’t exist stagnant and immutable. learning, in time, that it’s in action and choices. choosing others, your family, your clan, over yourself. forgiving others, your family, your clan, in spite of yourself. how sad it is that she always sees what her father did (and also what styrbjorn did) as a passivity when she herself is so unwilling to be subject to her own fate. she’s constantly in company but so fucking alone because she all she understands love to be is empty words and sentiment. She can act on it but can’t recognise the act from others, until she can, looking into the faces of the people of ravensthorpe that choose to follow her, to love her. and she chooses them right back. 

and ubisoft... ubisoft thinks eivor just decides to up and leave them all. in the middle of the night. to wander alone for the rest of her life. because odin said so.

i just.

[emotionallydrainedtrash]

Can I request a Joe Mazzello x reader oneshot where reader and their toddler daughter come surprise visit Joe on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody?

A/N It's about damn time that I get to this, it's been sitting in my inbox for I don't know how long. My sincerest apologies my darling, I live in shame. Hopefully, this makes up for the wait!

My Best Girls

Masterlist

Joe Mazzello x fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluffy as s h i t. Slightly suggestive content at the end.

Joe turned off his phone, wishing he could jump right through it.

The boys were just over halfway through filming and he missed you more than ever. He'd just gotten off of a Facetime call with you and your daughter Lila, who had learned how to say Bohemian Rhapsody just for her dad. Watching you slowly coach her through it made his heart heavy and he turned away to blink back tears.

Homesickness sucked and right now Joseph Mazzello was painfully homesick and wallowed in it for the next 30 minutes. Rami knocked on the door to his trailer to let him know he was needed on set. Joe nodded, unable to conceal the look of upset on his face. Rami was privy to his best mate's struggles and gave him a hug. He was also privy, however, to the surprise that would be awaiting him outside.

Joe squared his shoulders and walked onto the set of Freddie's house and faltered when he saw someone who looked a lot like his wife wearing what looked a lot like his polo shirt chatting to Gwilym. Suddenly a tiny child with springy red hair sprinted up to you and leapt into your arms and Joe realised that that was his child with his wife and his polo shirt.

"Baby?"

You turned your head and saw your beloved husband standing there in Deacy attire and complete and utter shock.

"Daddy!"

Lila launched herself out of your arms and into Joe's where he buried his face in her curls and you knew he was crying. You speed over to your family and stood on tip-toe to kiss your husband's head as he cradled your daughter tightly.

Joe put Lila down and kissed you hard. You drowned out the wolf-whistles, the cheers, and the "Oi get a room!" from Ben. The only thing on your mind was the fact that you were in your man's arms again and you could kiss him properly and not through a cheesy kiss via facetime. You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, Cheshire grins on both of your faces.

Your friends were screaming in joy and even your daughter was clapping in her Auntie Lucy's arms. Rami had a self-satisfied, ear-to-ear smile on his face. You watched the pieces shift and click into place in Joe's brain.

"You brought them out here didn't you?"

Rami shrugged and mischief laced his words as he spoke.

"No idea what you're talking about man."

Joe rolled his eyes, albeit gratefully, and kissed you once again. Picking Lila up, your little family of three hugged tighter than ever before.

"My best girls are back. My best girls are back."

He rolled off of you, both of you panting slightly, only to pull you close to him again.

On the way back to the hotel, Joe listened with rapt attention to Lila as she droned on in scrambled English about her new teddy bear and he looked up and was smiling so big you thought his face would split. That night, while Gwil and Ben babysat her, you and Joe had some much-needed time alone.

"God I missed you."

"I would never have guessed."

- Sarah💛

[bakulova]

Resident Evil Characters w/ a chubby S/o

Alcina Dimitrescu: 

I think because of her chest size and her thickness she herself would be a little chubby. She’d probably have a belly love pouch . So she would definitely  understand you if you were insecure about your body. But I also think she would help you love your body like she love on yours. When you are feeling very insecure about your body she will make sure to comfort you by kissing you everywhere and I mean everywhere stomach, legs, anywhere your stretch marks reach. Also when you try to go on a diet she will support you all the way but when she starts to notice its taking a toll on you, she stops you. she doesn’t want you to get hurt. She panics anytime you do that, she can’t help it. She definitely scolds you and shows her vulnerability after scolding you. Tearing up and holding you in her arms is a must. After that you kinda use that as a motivation to love yourself more. 

She walks into you guys bedroom to which she finds you crying. Tissues spread all over the bed. You mid blow. She takes off her hat and her gloves. She sits in the side of the bed and worriedly holds your hand. “My dear? What’s wrong” Your head held down “Nothing” She moves closer and holds you face with her hands. “Clearly something is wrong” you try to move away, feeling ashamed. “No don’t move away from me love. Please tell me what is wrong?” you sigh and look her dead in the eye “Some maidens were talking about my eating habits and... my looks, wondering how I could be with someone so beautiful like you...” her heart almost burst with rage. Eyes in flames wanting find this maiden and kill them. “Who was it my dear?” she caresses your face with her thumbs. You weakly say “the one with a big birthmark under her left eye” Alcina immediately knew. Her daughters were always telling her about this maid doing something stupid but she was her favorite maid because she got the work done. I guess the praise got to her head. Time to take care of the problem but for now comforting you is the top priority. She climbs all the way in bed and tucks you in, getting comfortable. she sighs and smells in your scent. She kisses the top of your head and runs her hands through your hair. “Don’t worry love she’ll be taken care of by tonight. Pay no mind to what any maids in this castle have to say. You are the most beautiful person in the whole world, don’t let worthless beings make you think otherwise.” You smile and look up at her and nod becoming more comfortable and less sad. Alcina now feels successful in the comfort part now she needs to finish the rest. 

Bela Dimitrescu:

Now with Bela, seeing as she is calm/quiet and the sister with the brains. She would see your struggles and silently observe. She secretly follows where you go seeing how you act by yourself. When she sees you crying to yourself in front of the mirror is when she’s had enough observing and more action. she dissipates into flies and appears next’s to you in a flash. She holds you from behind and puts her head on your shoulder, staring at you intensely.

“What?” you whisper weakly while sniffling. “Why must you do this to yourself? you’re perfect my love.” “You think so but I don’t” you snap back. She sighs and turns you chubby cute face towards her. Looking at your cheeks pushing your lips up reminds her of a fish, a cute one at that. She softly grins and kisses your soft lips. “Don’t cry my love. All that matters is that I find you delicious and hopefully nobody else or they’re gone.” she widens her smile. You nod and notice the blood on her face and quickly look back at the mirror and gasp “Bela this is disgusting” you say while wiping it off frantically, she starts giggling.You turn around and wet the rag you were using and start cleaning her to rid of the blood. She backs you to the sink (btw your in the bathroom and the door was open prob should’ve mentioned that before but oh well) her arms on either side of you, towering over you, licking her lips. You gulp at her sudden change. She leans in and kisses you deeply to which takes you by surprise by the passion in it. She pulls away leaving you wanting more and says “Please don’t tear yourself down my love, you’re beautiful as is...” you nod “as long as you keep kissing me like that forever” you both laugh and she takes hold of your waist and takes you to her bedroom for proper cuddling. 

Cassandra Dimitrescu:

OK with Cassandra she’s kinda in the middle yk. She can be a sadist but also caring but in a ‘I don’t show you I like you but trust me I do’ . She keeps tabs in you during the day. Checking up on you to see what you’re doing before going back to doing her thing. Whenever catching you feeling insecure she makes sure to try her best at showing her affection for you. Feeding you extra, kissing you, forcing you to cuddle with her. She just wants you to go back to normal. She doesn’t like to see you vulnerable. I’d also say she struggles to comfort you considering she likes to just kill, torture and mock her victims everyday so comforting is a change.  

You were just simply sitting in the library reading while having hot chocolate considering how cold it was outside. Some maidens were cleaning the dust near you. You took a split look in case you were in the way and you couldn’t help but see how skinny and beautiful they were compare to yourself. You look back at your book trying not to tear up. You shake your head and close the book, leaving the hot chocolate not feeling confident to continue the day. Walking in the halls trying to keep yourself from crying. You suddenly hear flies buzzing, knowing already who it was you paused trying to stop the tears from getting ready to overflow. “Hello my prey~~” Cassandra hooks her left arm around you shoulders and whispers into your ear “whatcha doin?” You shake her off and run off hiccuping crying. It didn’t help because she just followed you all the way to the shared room. You collapsed onto the bed, face buried into the pillows. The fly buzzing returns as disappears just as quick  as it came. You continue crying for some time, so long you thought she was gone. You sit up and look around seeing that she was standing there frozen. You stare in confusion. She then makes eye contact and moves forward and takes her cloak off for more comfort and climbs on top of your legs and kisses you deeply it shocked you. She pushes you back onto the pillows and continues kissing you. Once she’s satisfied with the make-out session she pulls away to admire her work. “So hot seeing you under me all flustered like that” you look away “No I’m not” she tilts her head “I’m not hot” you say annoyed. She gives you a stank face “You ARE HOT” emphasis on hot. You roll your eyes and try to cover your face but she caught your hands right before. “Don’t I wanna see your sexy face” “ugh Cassandra enough” she pauses for a second still holding your hands. she squints her eyes at you then just plop on you with her 6′4 self. “shut up YOU ARE SEXY and HOT. YOU ARE ALL OF THE ABOVE DEAR” it was so amusing to you that you started laughing and trying to push her off but to no avail. she stayed until she felt like you were feeling better. she sits up and grins down at you. “feeling better?” she raises an eyebrow. she admires you out of breath and stares to thing on 18+ things and grins widely. “if not I have an idea” her hands start creeping up under your shirt and that’s where we move on folks.

Daniela Dimitrescu:

Now Daniela is delusional right? so I don’t think she would notice until a maiden or someone said something bad about you. she wouldn’t even notice when your in a bad mood. She kinda clings to you wherever you go so nobody says anything to your face. but you can feel the judgey gazes. They look at you in disgust but daniela doesn’t see them blinded by you and your beauty. After a while of you pushing her away constantly you blow up. 

“DANIELA STOP LEAVE ME ALONE” she stops trying to cuddle you and her attitude changes. “w-what?” your eyes widened “I’m so sorry” you back away from her and run away while she stays still frozen staring at where you once stood. Her sisters gather behind her “Dani what’s going on? what was that?” Bela asked. She shrugs and starts to tear up not expecting that. she swallows the lump growing in her throat and excuses herself following fast after you. she finds you sitting outside under the gazebo in the courtyard... in the cold . she wants to run after you she can’t. she tries banging on the window careful not to break it but you ignore it. She curses and looks around and sees a nearby maiden and tells her to go out there a tell your ass to come back in but to bring a blanket. The maid instantly complies grabbing the needed blanket and bravely walks out into the freezing cold to you. she wraps the blanket around you and persuades you to come inside. You come in and immediately gets swooped up and brought into a room. A very familiar room in fact. You try to disappear into the blanket but nonetheless its torn from you and there is Daniela looking like a kicked puppy. It makes you feel so guilty. She pulls you in and sighs turning into a sob. one hand cups your head and the other your back. You both just sit on the ground holding each other. It felt like eternity before either of you spoke. “I’m sorry” you both say at the same time. You both giggle. She continues “I’m sorry for pushing your buttons my dear” she pulls away and caresses the hair out of your face considering it was windy and gross outside. You tiredly smile “no no this was my fault I was insecure and then blew up on you and worried you like crazy.” she purses her lips “no I’m pretty sure this was my fault for not noticing” she makes a funny face which makes you smile “I love you so much Dani” she blushes “I love you too s/o”

Karl Heisenberg:

This man now was taken away from his family when he was a child so he never grew up with affection. I think he would struggle with comforting you at first but he definitely gets better because he doesn’t like when the only thing good in this shit hole is depressed.  So expect him to just glomp on you and stay there no matter what. With this he would be patient no matter what, you getting annoyed for him just staying there but you soon realize it’s just to make you feel better. Kisses and sweet nothings are a must. He encourages you and makes sure you know you are everything and more. 

You were out and about at the village collecting necessities for you both. A group of men started whispering amongst each other. You didn’t mind it at first and continued shopping until you noticed that they were everywhere you were. Following you with judging looks. You shiver feeling the daggers stabbing your back. You sigh just wanting to get this over. The men started to get more bold and getting up close and acting like they were looking at the items. In reality they were giving you side looks. You continued to ignore until a burly musty man growled and shouted “I don’t know why were taking so long to get to the point!” You stop and look at him afraid now really wishing that Karl was here. You start to shake by how nervous you were. I mean imagine a group of men circling you and shouting at you. The men start getting too close and grabbing you and yelling in your face. Profanities are thrown around, degrading you for being who you are, manhandling but it all stops when 3 lycans come from nowhere and start attacking the men. The big burly man who started it tried to fight but figured out he didn’t have the proper tool to kill the lycan so he dropped the stick and ran for his life only to be stopped by Karl himself with more lycans behind him waiting to kill. The man bows before Karl. Begging for his useless life. This man was far over the edge to be given mercy. You hurriedly run to Karl tears falling. “K-Karl” he signals for you to go behind him. You quickly comply lycans coming up to you and rubbing their heads under your hand to which you pet them to calm your shaking self. Karl makes some sort of signal to which the lycans stopped attacking the men and leaving. Other villagers stopped breathing and watch this all go down. A woman comes up “Please please please forgive my foolish husband please!” she starts begging like her pathetic husband.  Karl snorts looking at her “Your husband and his fuck buddies need to pay for starting shit my sweetheart.” the wife starts to cry and looks at you “please please stop him. PLEASE” she starts to rush towards you only for Karl push her back so she falls next to her husband. Karl starts sucking his teeth “see now you shouldn’t have done that” he turns and hold your shoulder and starts walking away lycans making a path for the both of you. Hammer on one shoulder you on the other. He lifts his hammer into the air and lycans starting howling?? and rush towards to villagers who screamed and run. You get one look back to see the man being mauled to death. “Keep looking forward darlin. You don’t need to see that” You nod and lean you head against him sniffling. Once back at the factory he throws the hammer somewhere and the basket of stuff you bought on a table. He picks you up with ease and rushes off to relax with you. You spent the rest of that night being loved on and speaking about anything other than that. “I will always protect you buttercup” he whispers are you slip into sleep. 

Donna Beneviento:

Ok so I don’t know much about Donna but I know she is a quiet, shy and seems to be pretty insecure about herself specifically her face hence the face cover. So you too are struggling to support each other. But also trying to the best of your abilities. Like making sure the other is not lacking in an everyday things. I see Angie also trying to keep the spirits up by joking around and pushing you guys to do more. Also I think Donna craves for touch but to shy to ask. When she’s feeling insecure Angie will make sure to tell you so then you can go and hug her and love you. When its you who’s feeling insecure she and Angie will put a little something together with the help from other dolls. She surprises you by shyly giving it to you and waiting for your reaction. 

Donna hands you a box, gift wrapped any everything. Lately you haven’t been feeling thee best but you continued living. You had looked in the mirror recently and just watched. The way you looked. Moving your stomach around to how you wished it looked and smiling when doing so but when you let go you stop smiling. That kind of feeling. You look at her confused to which she gestures for you to open it. You start unwrapping the gift and open the box to see 2 puppets. Cloth ones. They looked familiar? Then you turned them over and realized it was you too. A little Donna and Y/N. You giggle at how cute it was and also realized that they were holding hands and the puppets looked so peaceful and so happy. You looked up at Donna who was playing with her hands. You put down the dolls and giver her a big hug to which Angie and the other dolls start cheering because they had work so hard thinking and putting this gift together. You carefully lift Donna’s face cover and warmly smile. “Thank you my dear. I love them” she blushes and slowly works up the confidence to make eye contact with you. When she finally does she gives you a nervous but happy smile back. You cup her cute face and give her a kiss on the lips to which she returns quickly loving the affection. Once you pull away she hold onto your wrist not wanting to stop holding her face. “I’m glad you liked it love” and for the rest of the day was spent cuddling and doing things together with the puppets sitting on the middle of the bed. 

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

Note: This was not edited yet so excuse me if there are any words missing in a sentence I tend to think faster than I can type. Also I hope you liked this and more coming soon!!

[dramaqueeenamby]

Waves: Quarantine

A/N: It's been way too long since I've done something for the Wavesverse, and I apologize deeply. I have a few requests related to this series to complete, but I couldn't knock this idea.

Words: 4K

Warnings: None

Tags: @babe-im-bi @notacamelthatsmywife @missyperle @queenoftheworldisdead @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @hello-therree @mani-lifes @liquorlaughslove @toni9 @koko-michelle @theequeenofcurses @taylortheeshowpony

Waves

Summer placed her phone inside of the mount and made sure that it was secured before she sat back in her bed, getting comfortable with the mass of pillows supporting her back, and smiling tentatively. “Hi, guys.”

Summer!

Someone tell me this isn’t a joke???? Please???

She lives!

Sis, blink twice if you need help.

Summer rolled her eyes. “Ya’ll better stop. I know it’s been a minute since I’ve hopped on live, but it hasn’t been that damn long.”

Summer continued to read the comments where more than a few people pointed out she hadn’t gone live on Instagram in over three months. Her mouth dropped. “Ya’ll lying. It has not been almost six months, has it?” She placed her hand over her mouth when people started dropping dates in the comments. “Okay, I stand corrected. Damn, I’m sorry, guys.”

Don’t be sorry, bestie. Do better!

Damn, ya’ll are so entitled. Celebrities have lives too.

What life? We all been in quarantine.

Rich people quarantine be different from us poor folks, I guess.

“So that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about.” Summer cleared her throat. “And I’m going to try really hard to make sure I word what I want to say as clear and as effective as I can, but I know this is still going to end up as a salacious headline. So, it is what it is.”

Oooh, Summer about to drop some tea.

I don’t see her wedding ring, ya’ll…..

I’m scared omg.

Watch this be nothing but a role announcement.

She shrugged and took a deep breath. “Okay, so a few days ago, I did the Buss It challenge, after being harassed by Sanda. And can I just say that filming was a challenge in and of itself? Not necessarily the movements but preparing? I’ve got two kids, twins, who are like the Tasmanian devil. I was literally up at 3 something in the morning trying to record it because my wild children won’t let me be great.” She chuckled. “Kids are something else.”

Summer truly jumped through hoops and was a damn near acrobat trying to figure out when she could not only get herself done up but actually record the challenge. Being the perfectionist that she was didn’t help, but the fact that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d put on makeup and dressed up was a whole other fiasco.

Quarantine definitely brought out her bum side.

“All of that aside, I truly was satisfied and happy with the final product when I posted it. In hindsight, I should have just left it that, but I wake up every day and choose chaos, so I decided to read the comments.” She blew out a breath. “One of the most frequent comments and really, insults, I’ve received my whole career. Primarily, since I was cast as Storm, revolves around how I look. I.e., my weight. I’ve been called fat, obese, out of shape, and so many other things.”

It was 100% true. The minute Marvel announced that she’d been chosen to play Storm, the racists came all out of the woodworks. She was too short, too chubby, too dark, too black. And Summer didn’t care, not a bit.

“Even,—and I’ll tell you guys this, when I first started my SS training, that’s what I call it, SS for Storm Shape, there was a—person who worked for Marvel at the time who came to visit me while I was training.” She smiled thinking back on that day. She could still recall it so clearly. “He basically was pissed because to him, I still looked the same, fat and out of shape.” She adjusted her top and shifted in her bed. “That same day, I deadlifted and bench-pressed over 200lbs” She paused for effect. “What I need for people to stop doing is stop fucking projecting—and I’m going to cuss in this, so if you don’t like it, oh well. I work for Disney, but I’m a grown ass woman, and I’m going to say what I want.”

I am screaming. Summer said we getting alll the tea today!

So, it’s wrong to point out that someone is physically unhealthy now, cool?

The problem is that no one wants to see a fat superhero. It’s not realistic.

^^^^ Tell me you have a small dick without actually telling me you have a small dick.

“I saw Lizzo, whom I adore, post a Tik Tok where she basically said that she workouts to have the body she wants not what ya’ll want, and honestly? Same. She said that her body type is no one’s fucking business, and that’s so true. Ya’ll love to hop on this internet and pick apart people you don’t even know and criticize bodies you don’t even have to live in and move around with. And for what?” She shook her head, slamming her fist into her open palm as she spoke. She was fully invested now. “I know we in quarantine, but damn, pick another hobby cause being a bully is not it, sweetie.”

I really needed to hear this today.

Using Lizzo as a point of reference makes everything you’re saying null and void. Lizzo is clearly overweight and at risk for diabetes, heart disease, just to name a few…..

I been saying this! You can’t look at a person and say they’re unhealthy.

Bodies come in so many forms, and all are beautiful.

“Now, I bring all this up because a lot of people were commenting on my Buss It challenge and pointing out the fact that I’ve gained weight, and guess fucking what? I have, and you know what else?” She leaned over to whisper while covering her mouth with her hands for focused effect. “I don’t care.”

Summer laughed and shook her head. “As others have pointed out as well, yes, we have a gym in our house. I 1000% acknowledge the fact that having the resources that I do as a celebrity and someone who has money puts me in a different category. Hell, my husband has a whole fitness app. I recognize that. If I wanted to keep up with my workouts, emphasis on wanted, I could have. I own up to that, but I just didn’t feel like it, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is to send and leave mean messages calling me all kinds of names.”

Summer had thick skin. She always had. Growing up with her family, who always ensured to feed her self esteem and make sure she knew that she was beautiful, definitely paid off. It was just a combination of quarantine and not having a lot of opportunities to keep herself busy with work that had her feeling some type of way.

“And that’s something else I wanted to bring up.” She blew out another breath and tried to gather her emotions. This was the subject she was almost certain she’d grow teary eyed discussing. “I love my husband to death. My children are everything. Christopher’s family is like my own, but— I haven’t seen my family, like my mom, grandma, brothers, etc in almost a year.” She paused, dwelling on that. Almost an entire year since she’d been able to physically hug and interact with the people who made her who she was. “And I’ve always made it clear how much I fucking love my family. I live in Australia. I can’t do a drive by with grandma so I and my kids can at least see her on the doorstep.” She quieted again, eyes darting off as she quietly cursed. “I’m trying really hard not to cry right now.”

Please don’t cry, bestie.

This is the side of quarantine that people don’t talk about enough.

Has this woman never heard of FaceTime????

I feel her pain. I live in Europe, and my family is in the states. This quarantine has been brutal.

My grandma died from COVID, and I couldn’t even go to the funeral. Summer is bringing up a good point.

“Damn,” Summer chuckled bitterly and wiped at the tears that fell. “I’m okay, I promise. I just bring this up because quarantine has also been very hard for me in that aspect. At certain points, I’ve been down, I’ve been in my head a lot, and I just was not, for the most part, in a space where I felt like I had to keep up my fitness regimen. And that’s okay. I put my mental wellbeing ahead of making sure my body is socially acceptable. Sue me.”

I really appreciate her honesty.

Summer never goes beyond surface level in interviews, so seeing her this vulnerable is really surprising.

Are we supposed to feel bad for her? She’s rich. She can afford whatever help she needed.

These comments are not passing the vibe check.

Ya’ll are all mental health advocates, but when a black woman is opening up about her struggle, it’s discarded?

“And let me make this clear too, I have an amazing husband who is so patient and so kind. He’s one of the best people I can go to when my anxiety hits, so I don’t want this to come across as me complaining that I’ve been alone. I have him and our children. I just miss the rest of my family. That’s all.” She dried her eyes and started to read the comments, unsurprised by the mixed reaction. She expected as such and was unaffected. At least until she saw one comment.

@ChrisEvans: ❤️❤️❤️

“Evans!” Summer wasn’t expecting to see his name pop up. It’d been such a task convincing him to join IG, let alone teaching him how to operate it. “Let’s go live.”

Not my husband and wife in my head about to go live!!!!

Imagine being able to call Chris Evans your best friend

I still say they smashed idc

It’s Christopher Jamal Evans hopping on this live for me.

^^^ I’m so sick of y’all with that shit.

“Let me try to add him,” Summer spoke to herself, scrolling through the comments to find his so she could request him. “Alright, I requested him. Let’s see if he answers.”

She wondered if she should have sent him a text asking if he was available when he appeared on her screen, effectively splitting it with her on the top and him on the bottom.

“Punk.”

“Kid.”

Summer smiled and greeted, “Hi, best friend.”

He chuckled. “How you doing, Summer?”

“Clearly not as good as the people watching,” she chimed. Summer saw nothing but heart eyes and hearts in the comments. “These people really love you. You truly are a manipulative bastard. He’s an asshole, guys.”

“Don’t be jealous, Summer. It’s so unbecoming of you.”

“You can go to hell.”

“Language,” he playfully reprimanded. “Where are the kids?”

“At preschool. Things are finally starting to open back up over here. Thank God.” She clasped her hands together. “Y’all, please wear masks. Don’t be Karen’s.”

Chris laughed, grabbing his chest. “We’re getting there, Summer.”

“The lies you tell,” she countered. “Don’t A Starting Point, me. Ya’ll are far from getting there, and I’m tired of it. I wanna see my family.”

He sighed. “I know, but how are you feeling today?”

“I got rid of the kids, so that’s definitely a weight lifted,” she answered honestly, laughing when she saw judgmental comments in the chat. “Listen, if you’re a parent, you know where I’m coming from. You love your kids, but my god, sometimes you just need some space.”

“As soon as this all blows over, I told you to send em’ by me for a couple of weeks.”

“Best friend, I already purchased their tickets.” He laughed. “As soon as I get the green light, they are all yours. Feel free to keep them.”

“You guys see how she is?” He pointed to Summer, leaning and squinting to read what was being said. “I do love kids, especially the twins, they’re amazing.”

“He is really really great with them, guys,” Summer added. “One thing about Evans, he’s patient as hell and really, just a big kid. Why do you think him and Christopher get along so well? 40 going on 4.”

“I resent that.”

“Is it a lie though?”

He hesitated. “No.” They both laughed.

I’m loving the dynamic between these two so much.

Is it just me or are they flirting with each other…..

Ain’t nothing inappropriate about this conversation. Ya’ll are reaching…

Ya’ll remember that blind item that came out years ago alleging Chris (Evans) was the biological father of the twins? Hmm…..

^^^^^This kind of bullshit is the reason we’re in a global pandemic.

As always, Summer and Evans ignored any foolery that was being dropped in the comments when she caught a comment that didn’t contain some ridiculous rumor.

“Yes, it is true that Evans and Christopher weren’t allowed to do press together anymore. Ya’ll, they literally could not stay serious for more than a minute. I felt so bad for the poor interviewers.”

“Hey, we were not that bad,” Evans protested, his Boston accent more prominent.

She gasped. “You guys were terrible, Evans, and you know it. I was so mad when they put me with ya’ll those few times. I could barely hear the interviewers over your laughing and stupid commentary that literally no one asked for.”

“We did not.”

“There’s deadass video proof, Evans.”

“Fake news.”

She opened her mouth but caught herself. “I was about to say something.”

He laughed and asked, “Do you remember how we all got drunk before the Infinity War premiere?”

“No, ya’ll got drunk. I was big and pregnant, remember?”

“No,” he dismissed. “You were drinking with us.”

“Evans, how was I drinking when I was pregnant?” She challenged and reminded. “I got drunk with ya’ll for the Endgame premiere, not Infinity War.”

“That’s right,” he remembered and chuckled. “You think we’ll get in trouble for saying this?”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “You’re dead, Christopher never gets in trouble for anything, and I do what I want. I think we’re good.”

Kevin Feige watching this live right now like 🥴🥴🥴��

I never realized how arrogant she is……

LMAO. Not the whole cast showing up drunk to the biggest premiere of their lives.

Chris Evans is too damn fine to be approaching 40 and still single.

Their friendship is so goals omg

@ChrisHemsworth: Snitches

Summer’s jaw dropped as she caught the last comment, swiping up to click the name and make sure that she was reading correctly. “Christopher, what the hell are you doing on my live?”

Evans brows furrowed. “Hemmy is here? Shouldn’t he be working?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Summer supplied. “And how long have you been watching?”

@ChrisHemsworth: Long enough.

She smiled nervously and looked off to the side. “I feel weird now. I don’t like when he watches my lives.”

“Aren’t you guys married?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up?”

Evans lifted his hands in a defensive manner. “Touchy subject, I see.” They shared another laugh as he cleared his throat. “Why don’t you add him now? I’m supposed to be helping Scott cook.”

“My favorite Evans,” she gushed and furrowed her brows. “You, cooking? Since when?”

“Get out of here.” He waved her off and reminded. “I’m not the one who constantly causes near fires when in the kitchen.”

“So, you really just putting all my business out there like that?”

“Summer, it’s not secret to anyone that you can’t cook for shit.”

“Wow, it really be your own best friends.”

He chuckled. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, punk,” she blew a kiss. “I’ll text ya’ later.”

“Alright.” He smiled for the camera. “Thanks for having me everyone.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said jokingly. Evans and Summer said goodbye one last time before he left the live. She blew out a breath and ran her hand through her hair. “Baby, comment something so I can add you. It’s too many comments to wade through.”

Summer adjusted her phone and checked the time on the clock on the wall. It’d been a while since the kids were away at school, and she didn’t want to get so caught up that she was late picking them up.

@ChrisHemsworth: I can’t. I’m too drunk.

Summer released a mixture of a laugh and a snort reading his comment. “You are so damn petty.” She clicked his name and adjusted her outfit while waiting for him to answer. She almost cursed when it seemed like he wasn’t going to join, only for her to smile when his face appeared on her screen.

“Hi,” she greeted in a soft voice with a small smile.

“Hello, Sandcastle.”

“Did you just—I swear to god, it’s always something with you.” Summer rubbed her temples and shook her head. Christopher smiled in response. “Why aren’t you working?”

“I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re working, how are you talking to me?” She asked, sassily.

“Umm, a little thing called multitasking, ever heard of it?”

“Wow. You are an asshole.”

“That’s mean.”

“You’re mean.”

“Christopher, you are literally a child.”

“Does a child have muscles like this?” He flexed, and Summer stilled. Christopher stayed in ridiculous shape, but this was another level. He’d never been this massive, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that. Just not aloud.

She faked a yawn. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

They really just be roasting each other all the time, and I’m here for it.

Summer must be legally blind because this man is stupid fine tf

It’s gotta be steroids. That’s not natural.

^^^^^He’s the god of thunder.

Summer rolled her eyes at the typical nature of the comments. These were the reasons she limited her time on social media and especially stayed away from reading the comments. Her attention was redirected to the top of her phone. It was a text from Christopher asking her to call him.

“But we’re—oh, I get it.” She realized he wanted to talk to her, not her and her tens of millions of followers. “Alright, guys, I’m gonna get off here so I can talk to my husband, alone.”

“She just doesn’t want to share me with you all, that’s all.”

“Don’t even start, Christopher,” she lectured while he laughed and got serious, for a minute tops.

“Hope you all are taking care and staying safe,” he spoke honestly. “And we’ll talk to you soon.”

Summer waved and smile. “Bye, guys. Remember to be kind.” Summer offered a final smile before ending the live. Closing up the app, she moved to open FaceTime and called up Christopher. He answered almost immediately. “You know I hate when you watch my Lives. Now, how much did you see?”

“Enough to know you’re coming to see me tonight.”

She laughed aloud. “Funny.”

“I’m serious, Summer.” Focusing on him, she realized that there was no humor in his voice nor his expression. Summer also noticed that he didn’t have the Thor wig on yet, which was probably why he was able to go live with her. He was waiting to get into hair and makeup. “Leave the kids with Liam. It’s not like he’s doing anything.”

“Christopher!”

“What? Is he not a professional unemployed bastard.”

Summer’s smile remained as she shook her head. “You are so mean.”

“I’ll handle the flight arrangements. You, my beautiful wife, just make sure you get on the jet so I can handle you.”

“Christopher, you’re working. People with everyday jobs don’t just up and show up to their spouses workplace because they miss them or need a break from the kids. That’s how folks get fired.”

Christopher started to move around, walking somewhere, she realized. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, Tike.”

Summer’s eyes widened slightly. “Christoper!”

“Sup, man?” Taika asked casually, as Summer laughed again. Taika Waititi was such a character.

“You mind if Summer comes up for a few days?”

“Sure, man,” he replied almost right away. “Bring the kids and chickens too.”

“I am not bringing those damn chickens,” she immediately protested.

Christopher made a sound. “Ha, so you are coming!”

“I didn’t say that.”

Taika joined Christopher so that he was in camera. “Hey, Summer, why don’t you come on join? You can have a cameo. Chickens, too.”

She rubbed her temples. Taika’s and Chris’s friendship would never not make sense to her. They were cut from the same cloth. “One, hey. Two, I was already in Ragnarok. I’m good on the cameos. Three, what is with ya’ll and those creepy looking chickens?”

“Whoa, creepy? What did the chickens ever do?”

“Exist,” Summer answered dryly. She still hadn’t forgiven Evans and Christopher for convincing her to let the kids keep those damn things. Her home was becoming more and more of a farm with each animal that joined the household.

“Tough crowd, that one, ehh?”

“Always,” Christopher agreed.

“I can hear you both,” she reminded and groaned loudly. Summer would love to spend a few days away from the kids. Chris would be working, yes, but she’d at least get some time for herself. Even better, alone adult time with her husband. That had also been a bit tricky during quarantine because of her rambunctious twins. Still, she disliked using her status as a celebrity to gain things, and this would definitely be a case of using status for pull. “I don’t know….”

Deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that Chris had walked away and returned to wherever he was prior to finding Taika, most likely his trailer.

“What if you only stayed a night?” Chris tried to bargain. “The flight is only an hour and a half. That will give you more than enough time to come here, let me fix you dinner, run you a nice bath, maybe get in the good ole’ horizontal tango—”

“You know I hate when you call it that,” she reminded quietly, admitting. “That does sound nice, though.”

“Or, I can come to you—“

“Absolutely not. Christopher, you’re already doing so much back and forth as it is.” One of the good things to come out of quarantine, to Summer at least, was that it forced many people to take a much needed break. Her husband was one of those people. Christopher had been working nonstop since she met him. Project after project, film after film, many of them Marvel films, which put a whole other layer of difficulty what with the strenuous physical requirements. Even now as he shot Thor 4, he was in the best shape he’d ever been, muscles nearly tearing the cotton of his clothes. He looked amazing, but it was what they couldn’t see that she was starting to grow a little concerned over. Christopher wasn’t as young as he once was. He had to slow down, eventually.

Summer realized this would be a perfect chance to have a conversation about just that with him, which all but led her to her final decision.

“Alright,” she conceded, finger up as she made her demands. “Three days, and I stay at the house while you shoot. We may be returning to normal, but we’re still in a pandemic. I won’t go around anyone except you.”

“So I get you all to myself? Hardly consider that a stipulation.”

“And…we talk.”

“After the horizontal tango—“

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop calling it that—“

“What was that, sweetheart? I wasn’t listening.” She saw that he had paused the screen, causing Summer to remember that she hadn’t even consulted with the babysitter. “Making flight arrangements for you.”

“Shit, let me text Liam and make sure he’s available.”

“He gets reception in the box?”

“Christopher! For the last time, your brother is not living in a box.”

“Do you know that for certain?”

“Goodbye, Christopher,” she prepared to end the call before smiling softly. “I love you, Christopher, and thank you.”

He winked. “I’ll always do anything for you, Summer. Anything.” A beat. “Don’t forget to leave the clothes. You won’t need them.”

“Christopher!”

[mianavs]

coming to conclusions

part 9 of Cathexis

a/n: hiiii i’ve been working on this update and haven’t done much else lol. it’s a long update but i didn’t want to split it. after this ill work on the stuff in my inbox :)

wc: 4.1k+

Cathexis

Expecting the unexpected was a concept that had been engrained into your psyche at a young age. It saved you countless of times during missions and only improved over time—at least until that fateful meeting with Illumi. Since then, your actions grew erratic and the precautions you once took when dealing with the unknown were forgotten. When it came to Illumi, you were a reckless mess and it was that recklessness that led to your current situation—Illumi’s lips pressed against yours.

Maybe it was the adrenaline that coursed through your veins whenever Illumi was nearby. Or perhaps it was your inexperience in all things carnal. Whatever the reason, you didn’t reject his kiss and instead tilted your head to give him ease of access to your mouth.

Illumi’s kiss was paradoxical.

Unlike his cold cut-throat self, Illumi’s lips were gentle and almost hesitant against yours. He took his time caressing, nipping, and sucking on your lips until they tingled with numbness. It wasn’t until you let out a whimper that Illumi’s warm tongue delved into your mouth and languidly tasted every crevice, clouding your mind with desire.

The low groan that erupted from his throat and reverberated in your conjoined mouths was what snapped you out of your hazy state of mind to reality. Your hands traveled up Illumi’s chest and gently pushed him away until the clear strand of saliva connecting the two of you broke.

“We can’t,” you panted and you couldn’t help but notice his parted swollen lips, labored breathing, and the dust of pink on his cheeks. Illumi looked beautiful and that realization alone frightened you enough to tear your gaze away from him.

“Is it because of Hisoka?” The accusatory tone threw you off.

“Wha- no!” You blurted out in disbelief. “Why are you even bringing him up?”

Illumi’s hand took you by the chin and forced you to face him. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling as he scrutinized your face and you tore away from his grasp as soon as you could.

“Forget it. I’ll let you rest.” He stated, any remnant of emotion stripped from his voice.

As Illumi stood up and sauntered to the door, your mouth opened with a protest on the tip of your tongue but your sense of judgement returned, effectively killing the words on the spot.

If Illumi resented you for rejecting him, he didn’t show it when he visited the next morning with Canary in tow. As the young butler fed you your medicine and helped you with your physical therapy, the weight of Illumi’s eyes made you wish he’d been upset enough to avoid you.

But that wasn’t Illumi and the assassin escorted you to a greenhouse in a corner of the Zoldyck mansion where a breakfast for two was set up. Breathing in the fresh air and admiring the beautiful flora around you was enough to take your mind off the previous night’s events. So when Illumi helped you take a seat on the wrought iron chair before taking his seat opposite you, any lingering awkwardness dissipated and all of your attention was on the plate of food in front of you.

After taking a couple bites, you turned your attention to the assassin in front of you and broke the comfortable silence to get any information you could about the world outside the mansion’s walls.

“How was your mission?”

“It went well. The target was eliminated.”

“Where was the job?” You asked, pushing the subject to see if it would take you where you wanted.

“York New,” Illumi then paused, narrowing his coal eyes slightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just curious,” you took a sip of juice. “I’m just not used to being holed up in one place for too long.”

“Then just tell me.” He leaned forward and uncrossed his arms. “What do you want to know.”

You sighed knowing there would be no beating around the bush with Illumi. “The aftermath…of Saul’s death.”

Illumi quirked his head and furrowed his brow slightly as he thought over your words for a moment before the metaphorical light bulb went off in his head. “Ah- you want to know if your reputation is still in ruins.”

You winced at his harsh words but nodded, nonetheless. “I just want to know what awaits me when I go back.”

“It’s not what it used to be but his death definitely helped.” He paused for a second. “That mafia boss also did some damage control in your stead.”

“Who? Ruo Wen?” Illumi nodded before finishing the last bit of his breakfast.

The last time you’d been in contact with your last client, he’d merely confirmed your payment and wished you a speedy recovery but didn’t say anything beyond that. Ruo Wen wasn’t the type of person to go around doing favors for others without something in return, so you anticipated that the next time he contacted you for a job there would be no denying him.

“I suppose it’s better than nothing,” you admitted, stabbing a piece of fruit with your fork. “I’ll be able to get some work.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about that if you married me,” he suggested and memories of the night before flooded your mind.

“I-I can’t-” There was an edge to your voice as you scrambled to come up with an excuse.

“But you eventually will so why not get it over with.” Illumi pushed and you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until you gave him an answer

“Because! I-” You took a deep breath to steady yourself. “I’m in no rush to get married. I need to help my parents as much as I can and I’d like to enjoy whatever time I have left being single.”

The assassin remained silent and you decided to get some answers for yourself. “Why did you kiss-”

An unfamiliar presence in the greenhouse caused you and Illumi to turn in the direction where it came from. It was Illumi who recognized the intruder first and called out to them.

“What are you doing here, Kil?”

Silver hair emerged from the greenery and you smiled at the sight of Killua, your preferred Zoldyck. The young boy looked surprised to see Illumi and visibly tensed when Illumi stood up, simultaneously emitting the faintest hint of bloodlust.

“Canary said Y/N was in here…” Killua stopped when Illumi took a couple of steps towards him. Seeing him in action, you were reminded of the type of person Illumi Zoldyck was and your convoluted feelings towards him sorted themselves out.

“That’s enough, Illumi.” You reached out and held his wrist in a vice-like grip.

“He interrupted us,” Illumi deadpanned

“No, we’re done here.” Was your pointed reply before releasing his wrist. “I want to spend time with Killua.”

The slight tensing of his jaw was all you needed to confirm he wasn’t pleased with your declaration but you stood your ground until Illumi finally relented.

“I have a meeting with father so I’ll leave first.” Illumi turned to leave but not before addressing his brother. “Take care of her, Kil.”

Looking down at the forest from the top of Kukuroo mountain reminded you of home. The thin air and cool winds that tickled your face were so familiar you couldn’t believe it. All you had to do was close your eyes to picture the cliff your home sat upon and hear the waves of the sea crashing against it. Most of the memories you held near and dear to your heart involved diving off the cliff into the cool sea water with—

“Y/N!”

Immersed in your memories, you opened your eyes expecting to see your brother but found a worried Killua instead.

“It looked like you wanted to jump off.” He motioned to your hands gripping the balcony’s railing and your body leaning over.

“Ah-sorry! This just reminded me of the cliff back home. My little brother and I like to dive off of it into the sea.”

Stepping away from the balcony, you resumed walking the perimeter of the mansion. After being cooped up inside for so long, your readily accepted Killua’s tour of the Zoldyck family’s grounds and the two of you were just about finished.

“Illumi never mentioned you had a brother.

“Well he’s only eleven plus he hasn’t gotten his license yet.” Was your explanation although you doubted Illumi and the Zoldyck adults didn’t know about your baby brother given their profession and the relationship of your families.

“Is he also getting his when he turns thirteen?” There was a liveliness in his step and big blue eyes that reminded you of your brother. So as Killua matched your slower pace and waited for your reply, you found yourself caring about the middle Zoldyck sibling more than you’d ever anticipated.

“Yes, it’s our family’s tradition. In fact, I haven’t been able to see him lately because he’s been busy training.”

“Is the Hunter Exam that hard?”

You paused, thinking back on your experience, before you formulated your response. “It’s difficult for most adults with years of martial arts training so you can imagine how hard it must be for a kid. That being said, your family, like mine, doesn’t raise children normally so I’m sure if you ever decided to take the exam you would pass.”

The smile that spread across Killua’s face was infectious and you matched it with as much vigor and went so far as to ruffle his soft silver hair affectionately.

For the remainder of your stay at the Zoldyck mansion, you failed to cross paths with Illumi again. Upon returning to your room after spending the entire day with Killua, Canary informed you of Illumi’s departure for a long mission and the news came as a relief to your troubled mind.

You hoped that the time apart would serve to smother the flames of attraction Illumi’s kiss ignited.

Any further interaction with the Zoldycks—excluding Killua—was also avoided as most of them also embarked on missions of their own. The one’s left behind had been Kikyo, Milluki, and Killua which meant you weren’t summoned to any more awkward meals with the former two. For the last few days of your stay, you watched over Killua train for the upcoming Hunter Exam.

On your last day, you bid Killua and Canary farewell and trekked down the mountain debating where to go. York New was always a possibility but with your reputation the jobs would surely be difficult in your weakened state. Heaven’s Arena was also a possibility but the thought of crossing paths with a certain magician changed your mind. In the end, your weakened state and the time spent with Killua contributed to your destination—home.

A quick call to your mother confirmed your brother’s return home from his training trip and you looked forward to the time you’d spend together with him while regaining your strength. On the way to Padokea’s capital airport, you stopped by a souvenir shop to look for a gift for your brother. It was a fun little tradition in your family to bring souvenirs to him after returning home from missions, and as far as you knew, your parents hadn’t stepped foot onto Padokea ever since that event almost nineteen years ago.

A miniature version of Kukuroo Mountain on a shelf caught your eye and, after checking the price, you picked it up and took to the front. As the cashier rang you up, your phone rang with an unknown number lighting up your screen. You answered it immediately thinking it was a potential client but Illumi spoke instead.

“What did you tell him?” It was faint but you could hear the vexation in his voice.

“Tell who?”

“Killua ran away from home after injuring Mother and Milluki and I think you have something to do with it.”

You scoffed in disbelief before shutting down his accusation. “I didn’t tell Killua to attack your mother and brother. He was curious about the Hunter Exam so he probably left to take it.”

A harsh, derisive laugh filled your ear as you took your gift and stormed out of the shop. “Only a few days and you already filled his mind with foolish notions.”

“And what’s so bad about Killua becoming a hunter?”

“He’s not cut out to be a hunter. He was raised to be an assassin and cannot stray from that path.” Illumi answered, as if the reason had been obvious all along.

“He’s just a kid and deserves to have a say in what he wants to do.” You replied firmly, remembering the excited expression on Killua’s face during training. “He can work as a hunter just as well-”

“Of course an outsider like you wouldn’t understand. The Zoldyck name is synonymous with assassins. The heir can’t possibly be hunter instead.”

Illumi spoke to you like a child and if there was one thing you hated most it was being belittled. You’d been plagued by it during your rookie years and refused to go through the same thing again—even if it came from a dangerous man like Illumi.

“You’re right, Illumi, an outsider like me will never understand the inner workings of the Zoldyck family so maybe this engagement shouldn’t take place.”

Ending the call before Illumi could reply, you took a couple deep breaths before making your way to the airport now more eager than ever to return home and escape the madness that was Illumi Zoldyck.

Unlike your previous visit home, you took your time passing through the small town near your home. It was a small town that mostly profited off fishing. Many of the grounds people that worked at your home belonged to families that had lived in town for generations. Such was the case, the people that waved as you passed by were familiar to you and they knew you as well.

“Y/N!”

The distinct raspy voice from behind you sure enough turned out to be Jakob, a fisherman and the son of your family’s cook. He was a couple years older than you but the two of you grew up together and he’d been the one to teach you how to swim.

“Long time no see, Jakob! How’ve you been? How’s Petra?”

“I’m hanging in there,” Jakob grinned and held out a wooden box to you. “Petra’s six months pregnant, you see.”

You took the box and found it to be heavy and smelled like fish. “Oh congratulations! I can’t believe it’s already been a year since your marriage. You better be treating her well, Jakob.”

“I know, I know.” He replied with a roll of his eyes. “By the way, take that to my dad so he can cook it up for you and your brother. It’s from today’s catch.”

A peak into the box confirmed your suspicion and you recognized it as your brother’s favorite.

“Thanks,” you replied and closed the box. “Do you know what it’ll be?”

“The baby? It’s a girl. We found out last week.” He admitted with the biggest-shit eating grin you’d ever seen.

“She will be spoiled rotten by the two of you and your dad!” You laughed imagining old man Olvar playing with his granddaughter. “I don’t know much about kids but I’ll be sure to prepare a gift for her.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” and Jakob paused. “What about you? When are you settling down and having a family of your own?”

Jakob’s words triggered the memory of your first conversation with Illumi and you shuddered remembering his expectations of a wife.

“Not anytime soon,” you replied, shaking your head to rid yourself of the memory. “Well, I should really head up now. Say hi to Petra for me!” And with that, you said goodbye to your childhood friend and continued the trek up to your family’s home.

Passing the last home in the outskirts of town, the paved road ended and the dirt road that led all the way to your home began. The incline was quite steep but after years of climbing, you hardly noticed it. Besides, the scenery that surrounded it served as a distraction. To your left was a thick coniferous forest that stretched for miles inland and supplied the town with plenty of lumber and game. On the right was the cliff’s edge and the crashing waves of the sea below. You could practically taste the salty sea water just from the wind itself as it blew past you, whipping your hair and causing goosebumps to form across the surface of your skin.

You wanted nothing more than to drop everything and jump into the chilling waters below. It was very tempting but you figured it would be more enjoyable with your brother so you picked up the pace.

No matter how many times you visited, the warm tickling sensation in your chest never failed to manifest when you stood on the front lawn and peered up at the imposing centuries-old structure. If there was one thing your grandfather did right, it was refurbishing the old family home. Electricity flowed through every corner of the house giving it the heat and lighting it needed while the new plumbing system gave adequate water supply to all of the bathrooms and kitchens. Therefore, while the outside walls gave off the appearance of an old fortress, the interior was as modernized as any home built in the last fifty years.

Upon entering, you instantly felt a presence following your every move and it only took a moment to realize who it was. Deciding to humor him, you took the wooden box and headed towards the kitchen waiting for your little brother to emerge.

After reaching the annex, a shadow to your right caught your eye but you were faster and avoided the small fist that whizzed past your right arm.

“Ugh, you noticed me didn’t you?” Your little brother pouted, relaxing his shoulders and stance.

“Nice to see you too, ” you grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair. “And of course I did you were way too obvious.”

He slapped your hand away and patted down his hair before his eyes lit up at the sight of the wooden box and the gift bag you brought. “Are those for me?”

“Well I suppose they both technically are but the fish in the box is dinner. The bag is your souvenir from Padokea.”

You handed him the bag before picking up the box. “Now let’s take this to Olvar.”

By the time you settled in, it was dinner time and you joined your brother in the dining room. It was then that the two of you caught up since the last time you seen each other almost a year ago. You told your brother about your missions and the training you did but made sure to leave out any information about Illumi and the Zoldycks. It had been one of the conclusions you and your parents came to when discussing the debt’s repayment; your little brother would have nothing to do with it.

“So how was Padokea? I don’t think our parent’s have ever been there.”

“Lots of forests and mountains and the towns are nice.” Was your short reply and you steered the conversation towards your brother. “So how was training? Where did you go again?”

“Rokario,” He replied, stabbing a piece of fish with his fork but said nothing else to your surprise.

“Hmmm isn’t that near the NGL?” you commented. “I don’t think I’ve been to the Mitene Union.”

That last comment captured your brother’s attention and he stared at you wide-eyed. “Really?! You’ve never been there?”

For the remainder of the evening, your brother went told you everything he knew about Rokario, NGL, and the other neighboring countries. He spent a large amount of time discussing the people, flora, and fauna native only to that area of the known world. He also told you about the medicinal properties of different plants from treating a common cold to serving as a poison antidote. In the end, he didn’t tell you about his training but you figured you’d find out first-hand over the next few days.

Training was to a hunter as sunlight was to plants; it was vital to their growth. That was a fundamental that’d been passed down in your family and was engraved in you. So over the next few days when you observed your little brother’s movements and Nen strength, it became clearer that he’d slacked off in training. He was more than happy to help you out with your training but when it was his turn he’d get tired quickly and would leave to rest.

You debated when to address the issue and in the end decided to do it the day before you were set to leave. The two of you went swimming for hours before heading to shore and eating the food  Olvar had packed you.

“So…what happened,” you began taking a swig of water to wash down your food. “You’ve been slacking off during training.”

Panic flashed on your brother’s face before he looked away. “The thing is…I don’t think I want to be a hunter.”

“Wait, what? Not be a hunter?” You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. “We’re hunters, B/N. That’s just who we are. It’s family tradition!”

“I want to help people. I want to be a doctor. I want to go to school and be a normal kid!” Tears welled up in your brother’s eyes as he looked at you.

“O-okay, we can always just postpone taking the exam so you can go to school but-”

He stood up suddenly and shook his head, tears falling on the floor. “No! You don’t get it, Y/N! I don’t want to take the exam ever! I just want to do what I want to do, not what you, mom, and dad want me to do!”

With that, your brother darted towards the house leaving you dumbfounded and confused. Ever since he first started to talk, he’d always wanted to be a hunter like the rest of you. Your parents even had him start his training early since he’d follow you around anyway. Not to mention, he also had a natural talent when it came to martial arts and was strong—even before finding out he was an Enhancer.

That night, after dining alone, you tried to figure out what had changed your brother’s mind and concluded that something must have happened during his trip. The conversation you had with him regarding the trip came to mind and you remembered the animated way he told you about the people, animals, and plants. Your brother’s face when he told you about the different medicinal properties of plants came to mind. He looked so excited and proud of himself…almost like Killua when he was training with you for the Hunter Exam.

“Hah…”

The bitter realization that you’d acted just like Illumi was like a slap in the face. What right did you have to judge Illumi when here you were telling your brother he had to become a hunter? Once you came to that realization, you thought about Illumi’s reasoning behind not wanting Killua to stray from his path and wondered if it was similar to yours. You fell asleep late that night mulling over what you would tell your brother and whether you should apologize to Illumi.

The next morning, after packing a bag for your trip, you headed to your brother’s room and knocked on his door. You heard shuffling in his room after the first few knocks but he never opened the door, so you decided to talk anyway hoping he wasn’t too upset to ignore you.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. It’s just you caught me off guard and I didn’t know how to react. You deserve to do what makes you happy and if that’s being a doctor then I’ll support you and we can talk to mom and dad about it when you’re ready. I would like for you to at least take the Hunter Exam, though. You don’t have to be hunter but it would be nice if you were licensed at least plus there’s a lot of benefits that come with it.”

You paused to see if he would open the door but you didn’t hear him move. “Well, I’m heading out now. Stay safe, okay?”

In the end, you weren’t able to see you brother again so you asked the grounds people and Olvar to look after him while your parents were away. Leaving home was always a melancholic event but this departure in particular was gloomier than usual. You wanted your brother to be happy but the family’s legacy remained steadfast in your mind.

With a sigh, you pulled out your phone. The number Illumi had called you from had been a payphone and you had no other means of contacting him, so you scrolled through your contacts until a particular name appeared on your glowing screen.

[Hisoka]

[voidfishling]

“You, Taako Taaco, are a liar.”

Taako looks up at the Grand Auditor with all his abject terror frozen into flippant contempt.

The Auditor sneers, leaning forward on his throne. “There isn’t so much as a wisp of necromancy clinging to your being.”

With a wry sort of smile Taako looks the human up and down. “Some of us have hidden depths, my man.” He just needs to buy time. Enough time for Magnus and Lucretia to destroy the lab with the regeneration pod and for Davenport and Merle to hide Barry and Lup somewhere far, far away. Somewhere where the Auditor’s reapers won’t find them. Out of the city, if they can manage to get over the wall.

The Auditor rises from his seat, the raven feathers on his cloak ruffling with the sudden movement. “Your sister died,” he growls. “I have read the reports. She died exactly three months ago and yet-” He taps at the hourglass with Lup’s name on it, still full of glistening sand streaming merrily downward. “Here she is.” His pale eyes spark furiously. “And you’re trying to tell me that you – a little fool of a transmuting cook – singlehandedly brought her back from the dead?”

Taako’s insides twist. No one is getting their hands on his stupid litch sister. No one is laying a finger on his stupid necromancer brother. No one. They can do with him whatever they want. “Ya,” he sneers. “That’s what I’ve been telling you, right? You p—”

“No. He didn’t.”

The blood freezes in Taako’s veins. He knows that voice.

Kravitz is standing to attention in the doorway to the interrogation chamber. He is looking at the Auditor with restrained respect and Taako feels as if someone just stuck a knife between his ribs. Kravitz. The only Reaper that was willing to listen to them. The only Reaper that had responded to their heretic claim that they did not believe the Grand Auditor still operated on the mandate of the Raven Queen with a harrowed “you’re right”. The only Reaper they had trusted enough to tell him that they had not been able to find any devotee of the Goddess of Death that had been able to truly commune with their Queen for years, and who had answered this with a grey-faced “I know.”

And now he’s here, bowing to that two-faced, stupidly dressed, tyrant like none of it ever happened.

The Auditor grins, his shoulders broadening with triumph, until Kravitz suddenly continues:

“I did.”

Taako does not manage to keep a straight face, which is a bloody rookie mistake, but it doesn’t matter. The Auditor isn’t looking at him, he’s gawking at Kravitz.

“You what?”

Kravitz stands in front of him, unflinching. “We all get three passes, he says tensely. “Three opportunities to sow instead of reap.”

Even through his bewilderment Taako feels a stab of fury. Of course. Of course they are allowed to toy with the rules of life and death.

“I have never made use of it,” Kravitz continues, his dark eyes fixed on the Auditor with a strange sort of force. “Bringing back Lup Taaco is my first invocation of the privilege.”

All of the Auditor’s features seem to bulging out at once with anger. “And on what grounds do you expect to justify this invocation?” he spits.

Taako just catches Kravitz’ eyes darting in his direction with a look of frantic, desperate apology.

“Personal gain,” he replies, sounding far calmer than what Taako just saw in him. “I thought bringing back the sister was as good a way as any to court the brother.”

A single split second Taako floats in a void of shock, and then he breaks out his most self-satisfied smile. “And a good thing too, I wouldn’t have settled for anything less.” He smoothly sidles up to Kravitz and links his arm with his. “A handsome face alone is not enough to get a crack at all this, you know.”

The Auditor is spluttering, all but choking on his objections, and Taako knows why. The Auditor doesn’t possess anything even close to the magical prowess that his reapers do. That’s what he employs them for. That’s why they get privileges. He needs them. Kravitz – Taako has to begrudgingly admit – has made a pretty brilliant move here.

Well, no use half-assing things. That’s absolutely not the Taaco way. Unless it’s boring responsibilities, of course, but pretending to be the Grim Reaper’s new flame does not – whatever else it might turn out to be – boring. So Taako deliberately leans his head against Kravitz’ shoulder, idly blowing one of the raven feathers adorning his dreads out of his face. “You could have told me about the ‘reapers get a free pass’ thing, babe. I’ve been behaving like a major doofus in front of your boss there.”

For a horrified moment it feels like Kravitz is actually going to freeze up, but then he suddenly pulls him a little closer and hums:

“My apologies, I really wasn’t expecting you to give yourself up like this.” He glances at the Auditor. “But I’m sure His Honour will forgive you, now we’ve explained the situation.”

Taako doesn’t have a reply to that, mostly because Kravitz just did something weird and purr-like with his voice that he’s never heard before and that’s currently stuck in his chest somewhere. But if he’s going to keep this thing up long enough to get his family out of trouble, he had better get used to that. And as for that furious, helpless look on the Auditor’s face, he could definitely get used to that.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Nice! I'm loving how you write, you write really well! 😍 could you write jiggy as a rogue cultivator? His Nie brother was angry enough that he thought it would be a good idea to bail for a little. And something something 😊

“Of course I’ll recognize him,” Jin Guangshan said when the war was won, and those were the words Meng Yao had been waiting for so long to hear. The validation he’d craved, that he’d demanded, that he’d betrayed and killed and schemed for – his mother’s first and last dream for him, the one he’d sworn to her memory that he would honor no matter what the cost.

The man wasn’t even talking to him.

“He’s my son, isn’t he?” Jin Guangshan said, puffing his chest out as all the cultivators around him oohed and ahhed over his generosity. “He’ll be part of the family, with a proper name and everything – you can call him Jin Guangyao.”

“A good name,” one of the sycophant sect leaders that always hovered by Jin Guangshan’s side said, sickening smile on his lips; it was echoed by those like him.

Guang – that was the name of the prior generation. Properly speaking, given his age, it ought to be Jin Ziyao, but that would be too much, wouldn’t it? It might imply that he had anything to do with the next generation, with the line of succession, and Jin Guangshan clearly didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea, least of all him.

This is what I’ve sacrificed so much for?

“He’d already joined the Jin sect, you know,” Jin Guangshan was telling someone now. “Before we sent him off to be a spy – his merits should be counted in the Jin sect’s favor, when we begin to split up the spoils. And since he was the one who brought down Wen Ruohan, that should get us the most…”

Meng Yao instinctively tensed, waiting for Nie Mingjue to give Jin Guangshan the tongue-lashing a shameless statement like that deserved. When it didn’t come, he turned to look at the man.

Nie Mingjue was sitting down, which he hated to do, his eyes blankly gazing out into the distance. His clothing was clean, and his saber was at his back; there was nothing in his bearing or posture that hinted that he’d been in chains less than a full day earlier, forced to kneel before the man he hated most.

He looked tired.

Meng Yao suddenly wanted to go to his side the way he had when he was the man’s deputy. No one would have questioned it, back then; it would have all been simple and straightforward, the way most things were with the Nie sect. They would have all assumed he had some reason, or even just that Nie Mingjue would be happy to have him there – and he had been, consistently, even if Meng Yao really hadn’t had any reason to be there.

Everyone just accepted that his rightful place was at the Sect Leader’s side.

Even if there’d been whispers implying things between them, and of course there’d been whispers, quite a large number of people had actually sounded admiring about it, of all improbable things – he’d limped once because of a rock in his shoe, and half a dozen cultivators had offered him toasts, quite sincerely, for having had the bravery to scale such an imposing mountain.

Nie Mingjue wouldn’t be happy to have him there now.

There wasn’t any reason for him to go there now, anyway. He’d done just as Nie Mingjue had predicted, the bitter words he’d hissed to Lan Xichen when the latter man had proposed they swear brotherhood when the battle had ended: you know he only wants the glory so that he can buy his way into his father’s sect, why should I let him step on me to get there more than he has already –

He’d agreed to swear brotherhood, in the end. Meng Yao didn’t know if it was for Lan Xichen’s sake, or his own, and Nie Mingjue certainly hadn’t looked happy about it, but he’d agreed.

Maybe he’d just been too tired to keep fighting. Before, Meng Yao would have scoffed at the thought - Nie MIngjue? Not fighting?

But now...

Jin Guangshan would be very happy when he found out about their agreement to swear brotherhood whenever an appropriate place and shrine could be found. A direct connection between his sect and two sect leaders? That was even more valuable than the merits of being a war hero, and more lasting – Meng Yao could leverage it into a better position than the one undoubtedly being planned for him. He could use it to win a place at Jin Guangshan’s side, and from there he could determined where to go next - how best to serve his father’s interests, to win his attention, and climb his way to the top.

It was what he’d planned.

It was…pointless.

He’d only promised his mother he’d get the name, hadn’t he? Jin Guangshan’s recognition. That’s what he’d told her as she’d faded away, her hands in his: he’d promised her that he’d make it to Lanling, and one day his father would call him by the name he deserved to have. 

The promise that one day he’d be the one at the top of those stairs, looking down at those he would be able to crush beneath his feet – that’d only been a promise he’d made to himself.

Those were much easier to break.

“You honor me, Father,” Meng Yao said, suddenly full of recklessness, holding his arms up gracefully to salute. “I gladly accept the name you have chosen to bestow upon me.”

Jin Guangshan looked smugly satisfied by his meek obedience. “Yes, well,” he said. “We’ll have to find a place for you, too – something to keep you busy.”

Something to keep you out of the way.

Just as he’d expected.

“No need,” Meng Yao said, and he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Nie Mingjue had turned his head to look at him. He couldn’t see the man’s expression, but he hoped he was surprised. “Your recognition is enough for me. I will of course come to Lanling to pay my filial respects, but I fear I’ve been outside for too long to feel comfortable anywhere. With your permission, I intend to continue to be a rogue cultivator.”

Jin Guangshan looked surprised, but also pleased; the man truly was a short-sighted idiot, thinking about how much trouble it would save him not to have to bring Meng Yao – to bring Jin Guangyao home, and not at all about what he might be giving up by not doing so.

Meng Yao’s brains clearly all came from his mother.

Jin Guangshan would be kicking himself over it when he heard the news of the swearing ceremony – Meng Yao intended to do that much, at least. Abandoning a position he didn’t actually want was one thing, but he’d earned that oath, the backing of two of the most powerful people in the world. Even if Nie Mingjue hated him forever, he wouldn’t allow anyone to look down on someone who called him brother, and his support, along with Lan Xichen’s, would undoubtedly be very handy in the future, no matter what he eventually chose to do with his life.

“Of course, of course,” Jin Guangshan said, and he was saying it in public, too; it would be too late for him to change his mind, later. Not without a loss of face that he wouldn’t be able to bear. “As you see fit, A-Yao. In fact, I think it’s a good idea - don’t all of you? These young men, war heroes, they’re all so flighty, aren’t they? All they think about is glory…it would be a cruelty to tie them down with responsibilities they don’t need. You can always return to Lanling, of course, whenever you need aid, and call upon our resources, within reason –”

Lanling Jin was wealthy enough that Meng Yao could buy everything he’d ever wanted three times over without them even noticing, but Jin Guangshan just had to add in that little ‘within reason’. A sign of the humiliations Meng Yao would have had to endure, if he’d stubbornly stayed the course.

He’d had his fill of humiliation. A lifetime’s worth. 

“– and of course you have the right to wear sparks amid snow if you wish.”

Meng Yao saluted again, murmured a thank you, and retreated.

“Are you sure?” Lan Xichen asked him, looking worried. “I thought you wanted…”

“I changed my mind,” Meng Yao told him. “Maybe I’ll come visit you in Gusu instead.”

Lan Xichen smiled, and Meng Yao’s heart skipped a beat the way it always did. “You’re always welcome.”

“At Qinghe, too,” an unexpected voice said, and Meng Yao glanced over at Nie Mingjue – standing now, but leaning against a wall. His clothing had gaped open a little when he’d moved, revealing a hint of white bandages beneath his robes. He must have been injured much worse than Meng Yao had realized for it to still be affecting him.

Lan Xichen brightened while Meng Yao was still wondering what had happened to Nie Mingjue during that missing time between his capture at Yangquan and his presentation before the throne at the Nightless City. “Does that mean you’ve..?”

“I’m swearing brotherhood with him, of course he can come visit,” Nie Mingjue cut him off, turning his face away in what might even be embarrassment. “There’s nothing more to it than that.”

There was, of course. Meng Yao had turned down something that suited his self-interest, a move atypical of him, entirely contrary to the shallow and ambitious person Nie Mingjue had judged him to be – he’d gotten Nie Mingjue’s curiosity up. It wasn’t forgiveness, not even close, but it was something.

He could use that.

“Qinghe, too,” Meng Yao said, and smiled. “Maybe I’ll build up a collection of fans as I travel and leave them all there for Huaisang’s amusement.”

Nie Mingjue groaned. “Don’t; it’s already bad enough – do you know he’s filled up an entire closet?”

“An entire closet?” Lan Xichen asked, amused. “Surely not –”

“I swear he got one for every day of the war –”

“Surely not. He can’t even use that many!”

“I’m telling you, Xichen –”

Some time alone would be good, Meng Yao decided. He would use the time to think about what he wanted to do with his life – what he wanted, not his mother’s dreams for him.

And when he was done thinking –

Well.

There was always Gusu and Qinghe waiting for him.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Werewolf: The Apocalypse "Kinfolk: Unsung Heroes" Introduction & Ch.1

"I have normal human fears and frailties, despite my faith."

"I’m terrified I won’t be there when they need me, that I won’t be able to give fully of myself to save them when the time comes. And the price of my failure, for them, would be too high."

"It was like nothing else mattered, nothing else could fill my eyes like the sight of him."

"Now, of course, I realize I was in shock at the time clammy skin, disorientation, that sort of thing."

"That night misted over my senses; even now, it seems more like a vivid dream than anything else."

"I had to watch. I couldn’t turn away."

"That night, I saw I had to protect him. He needed me, and it’s just as simple as that."

"Let’s just say what I know has come in handy."

"The best folks give the most of whatever they can."

"Think about it — would you like to go through childbirth every nine months from age 14 to 50?"

"We’re human beings, dammit!"

"I’ll always do anything I can to help, even if I’m royally pissed; I don’t expect thanks or money, either. But it would be nice to get some respect."

"I'm not alone in saying that I hate being patronized."

"Give an inch, they’ll take a mile" is what some of them think about us."

"The rhetoric a lot of them use sounds like the same crap bigots give when trying to “justify” why women and minorities shouldn’t have equal rights."

"Just once, I’d like to feel like an equal, a partner in all this."

"Ever think about how hard things would be without us?"

"I see by your scowl that doesn’t satisfy you."

"Think of it as normal family responsibilities, magnified a thousand times."

"It’s practically medieval!"

"I mean, it looks like such fun to turn into a wolf."

"There are connections like you wouldn’t believe. Completely outside the law, these people can get dirt on the opposition, perform b&e without leaving a trace and provide muscle no other boss can beat. All they ask is some capital, some boltholes and a little legal cover. Sweetest deal in the world!"

"What do I think about it? Imagine what it’d be like for someone to call you and say you’d missed out on a million dollars because you got one wrong number on the lottery ticket."

"Some are too caught up in the things of humans —chasing after money to have what advertisers insist they can’t do without, living their soap-opera lives and not seeing what the world is really all about. I pity them."

"There is sweeter revenge than death."

"I laugh with joy thinking how your heart will burst should you ever have to face him in battle."

"It’s a great honor to be who I am, who we are. But it’s scary, too."

"Families can quarrel, snarl and cut one another to the quick, but in times of trouble, they’ll stick together."

"God, Allah, Gaia, the Great Spirit or whoever gave us this job, so we have to do the best we can with it."

"Blood also fetters our lives in hatred as well as love, I’m afraid to say."

"I’m not saying this is a fact, but if she was abused, it might explain some things."

"I’m sorry, I can’t quite imagine a moment of sensual passion with someone I don’t love, much less hardly know!"

"In other words, it’s the connections that’re vital, not the money or the mileage."

"Many have wealth, but not all; lineage, not money, is most important."

"That’s a heavy price to pay in a harsh world."

"Self-sacrifice is also important."

"Sacrifice comes in terms of emotional costs, too."

"It’d be pretty stupid for me to become a gun-toting mercenary, for example."

"To put a positive spin on all this, I guess I’d say it’s nice to be needed."

"I admit I don’t really understand what it is or when it’ll be, but many’s the Irish tale where a small oversight wreaked terrible disaster."

"So I got online and made a few phone calls and tried to get the “truth” in as many forms as I could."

"The word “family” has come to mean a lot more things than the 1950s concept of mommy, daddy and two perfect children."

"Raising children is no bed of roses, either."

"Kids love to test their parents and see just how far they can push and still get away with it."

"There’s no way this could be easy."

"Some days, I have to bite my tongue, and that does get old."

"I was just too stupid and blind to see it."

"I always felt like I was split, alone, part of something I couldn’t name."

"Listen, you have no idea what it’s like to watch someone you love slowly lose her mind."

"There are some, well, bimbos."

"You know, the ones that like to control CEOs and topple careers."

"Here, try a piece of this chicken gizzard. I get ’em real cheap down at the butcher shop. No one else seems to want these extra parts. I grill ’em with a little barbecue sauce and honey mustard. Delicious! Thanksgiving’s always the best time, though. Then there’s turkey necks for the takin’!"

"Our families are pretty big, and we figure even the most distant cousin or friend of a friend’s part of the group."

"I’m sure you know, working with people all the time, how far thanks and a friendly smile go when you’re dead on your feet. It’s like the sun’s come out on a cloudy day."

"I mean, some of that stuff is long outdated!"

"It’s more a matter of belief and pureness of spirit, if you ask me."

"The Network also has a lot of splinter groups that organize among youth, educators, environmentalists and so on."

"The Network also has a lot of splinter groups that organize among youth, educators, environmentalists and so on."

"We’re steadfast and steady, yet vibrant and alive, warriors, artists, writers, musicians beyond compare."

"I don’t know if we can save them, but we won’t give up."

"To be tested and accepted by the greatest warriors in the world — no greater honor can we ask for."

"Think of us as the tiny little parts that hold a machine together. Maybe it could function without us, but not without a lot of wear and tear on the system. You get my drift."

"If leader seems weak, I test him. He shows strength, I stop."

"They’re the ones who are causing all the problems by rebelling against the people in charge. They need to settle down and just be content with what they’ve got, if you want my opinion."

"Why should I worry? It’s a clear day. Traffic’s light, but walking’s fine. You get to see where you’re going. I’ll hit a little town ’fore dark and trade a song or story for some food and a piece of floor."

"Revolutions are intolerable and inexcusable."

"The aristocracy attained their positions for a reason, for only the most worthy were chosen to lead, after all. If the

lower classes overthrow the aristocrats, anarchy is the sure result. One need only look at history; Can the Russians truly say their lot improved after they murdered the Romanovs?"

"History has always been a beloved subject to me."

"I pity those souls, displaced by fortune, who are ignorant of their heritage. How can one know who he is without knowing where he comes from? A man — or woman — is the sum of all who came before."

"Money is not the issue; many great families lost their fortunes, yet retain their nobility."

"It’s a poor teacher who doesn’t learn from her student; in this way, the knowledge of both increases."

"Dreams, of course, are the pathways of our souls; here rest our secret desires, fears and hopes."

"You doubt me. You don’t speak against me, but I can see your heart is dubious."

"There’s no greater glory than to serve the destiny of the universe."

"The lacerations looked exactly like the work of sharp teeth, deep into his flesh."

"I won’t go s’far as to say there’s undying loyalty, but we do have a lot of respect for each other."

"Were I as capable as my ancestors, I’d kill you now and never spare a second thought."

"No atonement can replace those lost children."

"Thus far, we have been lucky, but it’s just a matter of time before someone we don’t want sneaks in. It’s not that I want to close ranks by any means; I just wish we paid a little closer attention to who came in from the cold."

"Yeah, yeah, I know you think we’re a dime a dozen. I’d like to believe we’re a little more special than most."

"We’ve built too much for a rotten apple to spoil it all."

"I don’t believe this guy; it seems almost too perfect to be true!"

[asa-sauce]

those forgotten things

❀ haikyuu!! x (ukai’s kid!) reader

flavor: honey mustard  

warnings: none!

a/n: hi, sorry for the long wait! if you're coming from my tiktok, thank you for the continued support! i don’t know who the specific love interest is going to be, so for now it’s basically the entire karasuno team x reader.

note: ukai is your adoptive father. and this takes place at very very end of season 1/very beginning of season 2. you are 16.

+ Your dad, Ukai Keishin, forgets his water bottle at the convenience store before practice. You decide to bring it to him... Big mistake.

The bell on the door announces your presence with a gentle chime, and the cool air coming from the ancient air conditioner hits your face.  It's a heavenly relief from the sizzling heat, and you thank heaven for the store being so close to school.

"Hi dad! I'm home!" You call out, but no answer comes.

"Where is he?" Misaki asks, head bobbing up and out like a buoy. There's a prep in her voice now, like a child at an amusement park.

"He's probably in the back or something, I don't know." There's no one else in the store.

She sets her heavy, multi-key chained school bag next to the chair, and you notice that the normally happy face of the plush bunny keychain is smushed against the table leg, smile distorted into a frown.

She starts her jaunty browsing around the store, weaving in and out of each aisle. You do the same, not knowing what you're in the mood for, and meet her at the candies and gum.

"Seriously, Y/n, how do you not find your dad attractive?" The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself quickly scanning the front of the store for any customer that might have just walked in. Did she really just ask that?

You swivel around in a slow, dramatic way, giving her an incredulous look that just about asks that question. She looks at you with that casual—but all too serious—charm, as if she had simply asked what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.

"'Cause he's my dad." She rolls her eyes, dissatisfied with the answer, then juts her head forward just enough to add more emphasis on her next words.

"But he adopted you. You aren't blood-related."

You stare at her. She can't be completely serious, right?

You and Misaki met last year on the first day of school. Meeting her was like something out of an anime. The rambunctious airhead meets the quiet, down-to-earth girl who just can't say no to people.

She literally proclaimed your friendship to the world on that first day of school.

So this: her apparent infatuation for your dad, is very far out there, yes. Yet in retrospect, it's nothing beyond her character.

"Jeez, you're weird," you say, deciding to smile it off. You turn to grab a neon blue bag of chips from the shelf beside you. Misaki laughs, head thrown back, in a maniacal way, and disappears behind the aisle end. "Did you get your food yet?"

"Yeah." She's chosen a popsicle today, already unwrapping it while she continues to peruse the aisles more, just for fun. Her fingers drag along the underside of each plastic price tag, making a clackclackclackclackclak sound that's almost ominous.

"How much is it?" You ask, to which she tells you. You go over to the cash register and take out the appropriate change from your wallet, placing each bill and coin into the correct spaces. Even though you're a member of the family-owned store, a business is still a business, and the small ones like this especially need anything and everything they can get to thrive.

Misaki sits at the table for a few minutes, and you guess that she's waiting for your dad to come back out. She's slouched over her brightly lit cellphone screen, her thumbs continually pattering as she responds to all her messages.

It's awkward.

Even though you and Misaki have gotten pretty close since meeting each other, those uncomfortable silences still sometimes appear.

But then she begins talking about a boy she's been texting these past few weeks, mostly talking it out with herself then seeking your advice. You give simple reactions, and comment when she expects it. A simple 'he did not!' or 'ugh!' will satisfy her.

Of course it's not all that one-sided. She talks, you listen; you talk, she responds. And quite frankly, you don't mind it.

But then the silence emerges once again, until she lets out a big, audible, intentional sigh and stands up.

"Well, I gotta head home, my mom's getting fussy about something again." She shoves her phone in the side pocket of her bag, short hair whipping around as she hoists her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Misaki." You can feel the breath of relief beginning to grow inside your lungs as she collects her things and heads for the door.

"Yup. Tell your dad I said hello!"

"I will."  

No you won't.

And with a final automated jingle of the door chime, she leaves. You wait until the white bunny keychain on her bag is no longer in view to release that breath of relief.

And then, you smile.

"Alright, dad! You can come out now!" you announce, your head tipped back towards the blue curtains. In a comical way, just the face of your father appears, with tufts of yellow hair sneaking out behind him. With his eyes wide he scans the room, side to side, searching for any trace of your friend.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah, she is."

The rest of him appears then.

Ukai sits himself on the slanting, rickety stool behind the counter that is literally almost on its last legs, with his feet propped up. It's his way of "intimidating" all the "shitheads" that come through after school—is what he says.

You hop onto the counter, splitting open the chip bag. A puff of flavored air travels up into your nose.

"How was that English quiz today?" Ukai asks, catching a whiff as well while you pop the first chip into your mouth.

"Good. I got a 97." you reply after swallowing.

"That's my girl."

You hum in response, munching on another chip. Looking into the bag, you spot a wider, saltier chip that curls at one end. It takes up half the amount of chips, you realize as you take it. It should be a crime, you think, to fill up more than half of the bag with air.

"I'm gonna leave here a little earlier for practice tonight. A few of the boys wanted me to help them with a couple new combinations."

He swings his legs off the counter and sits up, mumbling something about wishing he had taken a nap before walking back into the house to change.

You go through the motions of unpacking your school bag, decideding to work on math first.

You spread your textbooks and papers out on the counter, an organized mess as you like to say, of calculus.

Your pencil moves rapidly across the page, the little flower charm on dangling back and forth with each squiggle.

Your dad leaves around ten minutes later, but not before giving you a quick kiss on the head. The sun is still high and proud, and has no intention to descend until an hour or more later.

It's your favorite time of day. The sun falls through the glass doors in a way that makes the entire world seem just a little more fanciful. It's usually quiet in the store, and after an entire day of constant conversations from you and those around, you can't help but yearn for these peaceful moments. It's entirely why you agreed to take over Ukai's shifts ever since he began coaching Karasuno's male volleyball team.

If anyone comes in at this hour though, they're likely to be a student from Karasuno, but in about five minutes the store's most frequent customer, Etsu, will stop by, and will no doubt be mewling for a meat bun.

You plop down on the seat behind the counter, taking a moment to your self to breathe. You tug at the base of your long ponytail, releasing your unruly hair from the confines of your hair tie. Although you aren't directly related to Ukai, over the years you've inherited parts of his look. One of those being your 'lion's mane' (as your grandmother calls it).

Ukai had adopted you when you were ten, but the six years you've known each other feel like sixteen. You don't remember much about your biological family, and for privacy reasons Ukai doesn't know any more than you do.

You have no harsh feelings towards them--no contempt or ill-wishes for leaving their own daughter. Of course, there are days when you wondered where they are, and what life might be like if they kept you.

Perhaps it is for the best, you always came to. Maybe it is meant to be this way, because at least the life you are living now with just your dad and grandparents is good. It's good—

You hear a dull chip as the lead snaps. It flies off to the side, leaving a small pencil marking etched into your paper. It's minor, but still an annoyance when deep in thought or concentration. Still, it's nothing that can't fixed with two pumps at the end of the pencil. You start over again, scribbling out the final numbers when familiar happy mewl grabs your attention. Before you can even look over, your cheeks lift into a smile.

"Hi, Etsu!"

It's a reaction that happens as soon as the sound reaches your ears. You set your pencil on your paper, math equations and theories slipping from your mind.

Etsu hops onto the counter, his blazing orange fur shimmering in the sunlight. Despite him being a stray, his fur is the softest thing on the planet. You hope he is a stray, because that's how you connected to him in the first place. Sometimes you wonder if he's had those long, quiet nights alone.

"You ready for a meat bun?" You say, sliding a hand back from his head to mid back. He anticipates your touch, always tilting his head up before you caress him again. The mewl he gives, so meek and mild, is what you understand to be a 'yes'.

And so you go over to the pork bun warmer and carefully pluck a bun from the middle shelf, trying your hardest not to touch the metal racks in between. There's still a little splotch of red on your hand from the last time you burned yourself.

The doughy flesh of the bun is warm under your fingertips, and droops slightly, heavy with pork. Steam escapes from every pore, and then, as you slice the bun open, it billows out.

The soft sounds of Estu enjoying his meal brings you a gratification that only comes on—again—during peaceful moments like these.

But as you watch him, you notice your dad's tall, black water bottle and cellphone sitting next to the rotary.

I should probably go and give it to him, you think, watching the bottle now instead of Etsu.

It's about four minutes walking distance from the store.

It wouldn't hurt.

"Nana! Dad left his water here. I'll be right back!"

You wait until you hear the warm, candied voice of your grandmother to leave the store. For a moment, a part of you misses the cool air conditioning.

****

As you enter the breezeway leading to the gym, you realize that you've never been here after school. There's a different vibe, you immediately notice; one that has your steps slowing.

You have never seen the boys your dad coaches. It's not like he forbade you from going to games; and it's not like didn't have any interest in the sport. It's just that you...never.. saw them practice.

You can hear the shoes squeaking and the ball slamming against the waxed floor. It's starts to sound like a horror movie soundtrack, in a weird way.

You peep your head in, carefully clutching the metal door frame.

Five boys, the ones your dad mentioned about earlier, are the first things to catch your eye. One of them, with hair as orange and fiery as Etsu's, is mid-air.

You spot your dad fifteen feet away to the left, arms crossed over one another, head tilted down and eyes wound up--his Focus Face, as you liked to call it. He's deep in his concentration, watching every move of the players on the court. You don't want to interrupt him, so you wait till one of the sides makes a point.

That point comes no sooner after you decide, and after it does, the boisterous cheers of the side closest to you fill the room. You take one step in, more confident, then another, till you're past the metal threshold.

"Dad?"

The man in question turns on instinct. He knows that voice. For fifteen years he's heard the sound of that word, the specific pitch and inflection. So he turns, void of any hesitation or forethought, only wondering why you're here a good few seconds after he sees your face.

Everyone else turns too. The word is so foreign in that environment it feels like slime against skin. The cheers stop. Even the ball stops rolling, and all eyes are on you.

"(Y/n)? What are you--" your father begins, still wide-eyed and surprised. They stay like that for only that moment, however, before returning to their sharp gaze. He turns to the boys, and says, "Excuse me for a second."

You meet him halfway as he walks towards you, neverminding the boys' stares. Haven't they ever seen a girl before? Wasn't that a girl standing right beside your dad?

"You forgot your water bottle," you half-whisper. The stares are getting to you, and you start to feel like you're being cooked alive. "I thought you might need it."

Behind him, a soft murmur lays low in the air. You're hyper-aware of it. What are they saying?

"Thanks, sugarplum." Your dad smiles, something that you know others rarely see, and takes the bottle.

You follow the same path back towards the doors, every now and then peaking glances back at the curious boys. They look kinda goofy, you think, just standing there like they had just witnessed a miracle, like the Lord Jesus Christ himself had come down from the heavens.

But as you turn the corner, a wall that wasn't there before blocks your path. It takes two seconds to register this, but in that first second, you're already colliding into it.

You stumble back, and so does the wall, giving you enough space to look up and see two eyes staring down at you. They're brown and wide with fear, as if had just broken an ancient artifact and was about to be executed.

A squeaky sorry tumbles from your lips at the same time he apologizes.

"Are you okay?" The wall--boy...man?--says. You're still in a daze, but lucid enough to give him a reassuring smile. You've seen him around before. You've never talked to him, but always feel bad that others perceived him as villainous or criminal. Deep down you he know has a kind soul... and a cute face.

"I'm fine! Don't worry about it."

"(Y/n)! You alright?" Your dad calls out from where he is, leaning over to see who you bumped into.

"Yeah! Everything's good!" You pip.

The wall in front of you shifts to the side, clearing the way for you to exit.

You walk with your head down all the way back home, afraid that anyone and everyone could see how red your face was.

God, that was embarrassing.

****

"Coach, was that your daughter?!" Tanaka says, almost teasingly. He's the first to break the silence, and has an apparent death wish.

Soft eyes go razor sharp again. No way was he going to let any one of those hormonal teenage boys near his precious daughter.

"Get back to work, Tanaka!" Ukai barks. All the color drains from Asahi's face, who is still standing by the doors.

"Wait, you mean... I just ran into your daughter?"

"It's okay, Asahi, don't worry about it."

"But...but..."

"Does she go to Karasuno?" Hinata asks over Asahi's blubbering, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes, but don't you dare even think about--

"Is she a first year?"

"SHE'S A SECOND YEAR, FIRST YEAR, NOW GO GET READY FOR PRACTICE."

"Y-yes sir!"

[anauthore]

A Cigarette for Your Thoughts? (Kenny McCormick x Reader) {SERIES | One}

Summary: You run away from home. You hide from rumours. And most importantly, you give second chances.

Pairing: Kenny McCormick x Reader - South Park

NOTE: Every part of this series can be read as stand-alone, or as part of the series itself! If you don’t want to read each part on Tumblr, feel free to check out links to the work on the below websites:

Wattpad | Quotev | AO3

Fic Below the Cut | Next Part

The night was dark, not even the reflection of the thousands of stars making the slightest bit of difference. You sat on the cold ground with your back against a tree, your face tilted toward the blackened sky as you breathed out, calming yourself and trying your hardest not to make much noise while the hot tears rolled down your cheek.

You squeezed your arms, digging what was left of your nails into your windbreaker that did nothing to shield you from the cold. It happened again, as it always does, but even expecting it didn't help you really cope with it; your mom was arguing with whoever she was dating this month, their drunken stupor unfortunately interrupted by your presence as you walked through the front door.

That was all it took- one slap across the face later and you were gone, cold and alone at a train crossing on the far side of town. You'd been there through sunset, and you were sure you would fall asleep under the canopy to the sound of crickets.

You stretched your legs out in front of you and sighed, eyes closed, before the sound of approaching footsteps put you on alert. You quickly formed an excuse in your head- 'sorry officer, I'm just waiting for my mom to pick me up'- but once the figure got closer you recognized him.

Kenneth McCormick. Kenny, the school's plug for nearly any drug you wanted. Kenny, the kid so poor that South Park had canned food drives for his family. Kenny, the most perverted playboy troublemaker in grade 11.

Had you really ended up that far away from your side of town? You began to scramble to your feet, but the startled gasp emanating from next to you stopped you in your tracks.

"Jesus fuck- Sorry, I didn't see you there."

You apologized quickly, albeit quietly, and mumbled something before starting to stand again.

"No, it's alright," Kenny shook his head, an unlit cigarette appearing in between his right index and middle fingers seemingly out of nowhere. He paused for an uncomfortable amount of time, tilting his head before he speaks once more. "Hey, aren't you- don't you live on the other side of town?"

You nod, confused. "Uh, yeah, how'd you know?" 

He shrugs. "I see you get on the bus from Mr. Mackey's window."

You stare blankly at him. Although it was somewhat creepy... you couldn't help but feel a little flattered. You were average at best; you hung out with a few other people, each equally as unnoticed by everyone else as you. You weren't in any notable clubs, sports, or teams  and you got decent enough grades: nothing to warrant being noticed by anyone, let alone someone that was easily recognizable by the entirety of the school.

He ignores your expression and rummages through his hoodie pocket for something. "So, why did you end up at this end of town?" He pulled out a lighter that looked to be on it's last ends, the paint chipped so much that you couldn't tell what colour it had been.

"What makes you think I 'ended up' here?"

"Sweetheart," the hints of a smile wiggled their way onto his expression before he placed the cigarette between his lips, lighting it and taking a puff in one go; "no one decides they want to come here unless they're looking for drugs, and you don't strike me as the type to throw your life away like that."

He plopped next to you, smoke calmly floating upward as you mulled over his words. What if you did want to throw your life away? It wasn't as if you really had anything left here: South Park was where you had lived your whole life, and although everyone else had mountains of stories to tell, you had nothing but the tales of your mom's iron fist and her many, many boyfriends.

After a moment, you spoke again, softer now that he was right next to you. "What if I wanted to? Buy something, I mean."

He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Then I doubt I would've found you just sitting here."

You looked away, a little embarrassed at your retort. He was right: if you were here to buy, you wouldn't be curled up against a tree, shivering in the cold of the night.

He puffed again on his cigarette, glancing at you only when he was sure you had been eyeing him for a little bit. He flicked ash off onto the ground and offered the smoke your way.

"Do you smoke?"

You hesitated, but decided that you really had nothing else to lose. 

"Now I do."

Kenny puffed air through his nose in a quiet laugh, watching you with a smug smile as you took it and breathed in- and then immediately had a coughing fit.

He chuckled, scooting closer and patting your back to help you catch your breath. You grimaced, repressing a shudder.

"I take it that this isn't your thing."

You shook your head, breathing again to clear the smoke from your lungs while you watched the lit end of the cigarette glow dimly. Once you were satisfied with the air to smoke ratio, you raised the stick up to your mouth again.

"Pull it into your mouth this time, then inhale. You won't cough as much."

You took a mental note and followed what he said, and he was right; you held it in and exhaled when you thought it had been in your system long enough, the back of your skull beginning to tingle as the nicotine worked it's magic.

He must've noticed you relax, because he gave you a thumbs up and fished another Pall Mall from his hood.

It was silent again, neither of you speaking and instead getting lost in the world of tar and probable lung cancer.

When one of you did speak, it was again on the topic you thought you'd managed to avoid, but you guess not. 

"Why all of a sudden?"

"Why what all of a sudden?" You puffed on your cigarette some more, getting a hang of not choking every time you did so.

"Did you choose to," he gestured to your smoke clouds, "start that." 

You shrugged. "Why did you?"

    “One word: Stress. Lots and lots of it.”

You nodded in agreement. “Me too, then.”

He nodded back, and again you both were left to each other’s company and the patterned inhaling and exhaling. Once your cigarette had turned into a nub, you threw the butt under your foot and rubbed it into the asphalt with the toe of your shoe. Kenny hadn’t finished his, yet, you’d noticed, so all you had left to do was to make small talk or lean against the tree again.

The quiet was too much for you, you quickly realized, and so, even though you weren’t much of a talker, you started to talk.

“So, what’s it like? Being popular, I mean.”

He laughed, flicking ash away again. “You think I’m popular?”

“Everyone does.”

He shook his head again, denying it. “Nah, that’s just ‘cause I’ve been lifelong friends with Cartman and his little posse. I’m nothing special- just another McCormick working his ass off to get the bare minimum only to end up addicted to something or other.”

You gave him a look, somewhat concerned. Sure, you knew he wasn’t the best apple in the bunch, but to hear him talk about himself so self-deprecatingly surprised you. He was always somewhat douchey around everyone else, constantly flirting with girls and making fun of anyone else around him- including teachers and parents. He must’ve noticed your sympathy, because he quickly apologized.

“Sorry. That got a little deep.” He stomped on the butt of his cigarette just as you had before. “Nah, it’s okay. Everyone knows my name, everyone knows my game. Nothing else to say about that, really.”

You accepted that he wasn’t going to elaborate any more than that.

“What about you, huh? What’s it like, being invisible? No offense.”

You cracked a smile for a split second. “None taken.” You pulled your legs in to sit indian-style. “It’s alright. No one notices when I slip away- not even my parents. My friends are good, but like- I dunno. They’re like anyone else. More like ‘acquaintances’, I guess.” You shivered, what little heat you’d been keeping trapped under your legs dissipating since you’d changed your sitting position. Kenny noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“So, you came all the way here without a decent coat?” You could sense judgement in his tone.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have time to grab one between my mom’s boyfriend and my mom ganging up on me.”

His eyes widened a little bit and he glanced to the side. “O-kay. Noted.” Then, he began to shed his jacket, offering it to you by the hood. “Here. I’m plenty warm, plus I have a house over there I could go to if I got too cold. You need it more than I do.”

You didn’t accept it at first; you tried to say no, but he insisted, and you weren’t going to refuse twice. You were freezing, and the night was only going to get colder.

You pulled it on, and you could tell he’d worn it constantly- and not just because it was the only thing you’d ever seen him in. The fur it was lined with was short and stiff, and the pockets were ripped on the inside, not to mention the stains that spotted it. It smelled like cigarette smoke and alcohol, and of course, like a high school boy. You zipped it up and pulled on the hood, not as cold as you’d just been.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

And it was left like that for a long time. At least, long enough for you to doze off and get woken by Kenny standing over you, gently shaking your shoulder.

“Hey, you shouldn’t sleep out here.” 

You rubbed your eyes, looking up at his silhouette. “I can’t exactly go home, Kenny.” Your voice was groggy and you sounded annoyed. Still, he didn’t seem to be disturbed by your sudden change of face. Instead, he almost seemed to have empathy towards you. You weren’t sure if you liked that or not.

“I know.” He repeated himself again, trying to word his question so it didn’t seem so out of place on the dark street you sat on. “I know. Do you want to come over? It- I can find a place for you tonight.” He stared at your unwavering expression for a moment before he spoke again. “You really shouldn’t sleep out here.”

And he was right. You shouldn’t- 

So, you stood and followed him back to his house. The one that was falling apart- that smelled like cigarettes and other pungent drugs that made you wrinkle your nose in disgust- that put up a decent fight against the cold beginnings of Winter in South Park.

[flxwinghair]

Cornered - A Harry Potter Fanfiction - [CHAPTER 1]

Summary:  Post-Deathly Hallows. After the War, Lucius Malfoy has to learn to pick up the pieces and push forward to a better tomorrow. ...Hopefully. But he might not like it.

Rating: T [PG-13]

Characters: Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, OCs

[Read underneath the READ MORE to see the fic]

A/N: Welp, here comes a VERY weird idea that sprung forth within my mind. I've been enjoying roleplaying Lucius lately, so I figured why not come up with a weird story too? First time trying this stuff!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Finally.

Things were settling down in the Wizarding World; a couple months after the nightmare that was the huge battle at Hogwarts. Voldemort was dead. It left many wizards very cheerful and thankful to be alive, finally being able to laugh and smile once again. At least most, anyways.

A vast majority of Death Eaters had managed to find themselves locked up in Azkaban—

Only a few select ones were left free to roam due to loopholes, or evading capture.

Lucius Malfoy happened to be one of them, but…. It was too silent hearing about anything from the Ministry of Magic, deciding his fate. He shivered, thinking they might just ship him back to Azkaban. He already knew they had a sharp eye on him; they had even told him before they let him go to properly heal from the Second Wizarding War.

He had almost felt self-hatred about how the Ministry took pity on him-

He did look downright awful for those last few months.

The last couple months he at least got to put some weight again, getting better sleep, and hell even the state of his hair was trucktons better.

It was the day.

Lucius nervously gulped, as he picked up the letter he had received the day before, re-reading it once more.

Dear Lucius Malfoy,

A representative will be visiting you today to observe your physical and mental state to determine whether or not the Ministry of Magic can proceed with specific details to you about further proceedings.

Sincerely, Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt

Sudden anger surged forth, and he tossed it across the room in a fury. Of course, it simply hit right back into his body, and he grumbled.

If it hadn't been for the Ministry tracking him wherever he went, he probably would have gone into hiding for some time until things would have cooled down. Of course, after telling his family.

…At least Voldemort was gone.

A shudder involuntarily went down his spine.

''My Lord!"

Lucius's voice penetrated the thick atmosphere within the crowd of Death Eaters, as Voldemort called to him. His heart jumped up into his throat. Now he could properly thank the Dark Lord for breaking them out—

He took careful steps forward, hopeful, but dreading what Voldemort could possibly want from him. Nevertheless, he still had his cold exterior covering himself as he stopped in front of the strange looking wizard.

"I—"

"Lucius.'' Voldemort's voice sounded full of disgust.

All his excitement from being free of that DREADFUL prison suddenly left him. He frowned. "Yes, my Lord?"

Voldemort didn't respond. He simply flicked his wand, and Lucius instantly knew something bad was going to happen-

"CRUCIO!"

What felt like pure, white, hot fire scorched underneath his skin. He could feel like his body twitch on the ground—by sheer pride he didn't start screaming in pain until a couple minutes into the intense experience. Some of the Death Eaters managed to be impressed—some were uncomfortable as well.

But it hammered the message home as always: Never disappoint the Dark Lord.

Voldemort finally lifted the Curse, laughing for a bit, then just settled for a smile. "Lucius! You've dared to hold on for a little while, didn't you?"

No answer, as Lucius felt shallow breathing going back to normal. Bloody hell... He couldn't even move.

"CRUCIO!"

This time, Lucius did immediately yell.

Voldemort looked triumphant, before cutting it out again. "Now, Lucius, why don't you speak this time?"

It took him a moment. "Y-Yes… my L-Lord…I… did…"

"Always so proud…" The joyful tone soon though shifted south. "Lucius, why did you fail me? You knew how important that mission had been."

"I-I…" He really didn't have a proper answer. "…don't know, my Lord…"

"That's not an answer, Lucius." Once again, Voldemort shot the Cruciatus Curse towards the other.

Once again, what felt like white, hot flame enveloped his body.

Voldemort flicked his wand again, after a longer period of time, casting it off.

Lucius struggled to come to, gasping for air. A few moments went by, and he forced himself to least sit up a bit. Bloody hell…

"Lucius… my Dear Lucius… I think you need more.. This will not do enough." He leaned down towards his follower, megalomania dancing in his eyes. The blonde unfortunately caught his eyes—a shiver went through him. "I think it's time to send you to the Carrows."

Present day, Lucius nearly jumped when he felt Narcissa gentle hand land on his left forearm; she was looking at him with deep concern in her eyes.

"Are you okay, honey?" She quietly asked.

"Y-Yeah…" The blonde said nervously, trying to pull himself together.

"You're sweating dear… The representative is here."

A dark chuckle erupted from him, as he tried to steady his form from shaking. SHIT. "R-Right…Tell them I'll…. I'll be right down." He struggled to say it.

She frowned, giving him a kiss on the cheek, though quickly retracted. Her husband didn't look so good. "Will you be okay to meet them?"

Lucius simply nodded, then brushed past her to get into the master bathroom in their bedroom. Once there, he made sure there was light, before he looked into the mirror.

Jeez.

Not as haunted as before, but… Average, at best.

He slid his eyes shut and let out a sigh. He WILL get through this. With that resolve in mind, the blonde quickly turned on some cold water. Splashing some onto his face, he felt relief.

He… really didn't feel the same way, still, even if Voldemort was dead.

He splashed more onto his face, keeping his hands there longer, before reaching for a fluffy towel off to his right. He wiped his face, feeling much better, just taking some time alone. Taking time to process.

Fucking Ministry.

They were only doing this because he had donated to the Wizarding World several times. That was it. Giving him time to heal, before sentencing him to something potentially worse. They didn't care, truly.

What was he going to do without his family?

What would he do without Narcissa?

The thought brought forth a brief sob—Ugh, he was NOT going to cry, especially right before a Ministry of Magic type of meeting!

He huffed, looking in the mirror, making sure his hair was alright. He smoothed down his robes, making sure they looked okay. He practiced a few smiles, cold looks in the mirror before feeling satisfied enough.

Hopefully his lawyer managed to pull something out of their ass.

He was ready as he ever could be.

With that, he set off to downstairs. His heart started to beat underneath his cool exterior, as his steps came further and further down, closer to his end. He blinked, stopping. Narcissa had been talking to the Representative, and they seemed to stop and look over to Lucius when they heard him nearing them.

The representative split a smile onto her face, looking crisply up towards Lucius. ''Ah… Hello Mr. Malfoy, won't you join us?"

This is it, dreadful thought playing in his mind.

{NEXT CHAPTER] [INDEX]

[irwinkitten]

you can’t stop | a.i

notes: so this was an idea that came up when i first started screaming to @spicycal​ about broadway!ash and then i spiralled because i started listening to the hairspray soundtrack and said the magical words ‘my head has got ashton playing link in hairspray and my mind won't shut!! up!!' and honestly it was one of the first things i started screaming at sarah about and it’s how we became friends because we’re musical nerds (read: clowns) and this idea wouldn’t leave me alone thus this was born. (also there is a part two in the works!) pairing: broadway!ash x plus sized female!reader warnings: a few swears but that’s it? word count: 2.3k

donate to my ko-fi

-

When you stepped into rehearsals on the first day, it took some time to fully register that you were the leading lady of the show and not just a background character. You knew that today was all about breaking the ice, so to speak. 

You knew that over the years, your sense of humour had developed because of the kids you’d grown up with, the people who still made you feel uncomfortable about your weight, and you had turned it back on them.

So when they got to you, you grinned as you gave them your name and who you were playing.

“Don’t know if the extra weight gave it away, but I’m playing Tracey Turnblad. This is my first time as a lead character and the only way I break ice is by jumping on it.” It took a full second before the other actors started laughing, the director wearing a short grin as the atmosphere relaxed.

It was certainly more easier on your nerves than you’d anticipated because everyone had laughed and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as the others introduced themselves.

And then your eyes fell onto the final person.

“My name’s Ashton, feel free to call me Ash. Can you guess who I’m going to be playing? Although, unlike our leading lady, it could be a difficult guess.” And for the first time in your career, you wanted to punch that stupid self satisfied smug look off his face. 

A few people tittered nervously, but you just snorted in response. You’d heard worse from directors.

‘You only have to deal with him for the next two years.’ You told yourself firmly. 

The first ten weeks were rehearsals. Normally it would’ve been six weeks, but since it was an entirely new cast, the producer had opted for the extra time to help the cast bond since this show run was going to be two years to start with. Opening night was far enough away that you could surprise your family, since you’d kept this job quiet from them.

As you began the warm ups, the director—who had introduced himself as Evan—moved you front and centre. 

“Right, I want to start off with your vocal range. We’ll have other duets fall in as we change the songs but keep it to mostly your songs before we move to ensemble. Once we know the ranges of you lot, our lovely composer Brian,” he waved out to the man who was leaning against one of the walled mirrors in the studio, “will be able to figure out if we need to change any songs.”

It wasn’t so much as brutal, but it put you through your paces. You realised quickly that this was certainly going to be a welcome challenge for you.

Ashton remained smug throughout his parts and it took everything in you to not slap the silly smirk off his face when it got to your duets. But you resisted, matching him pace for pace which surprised him.

When the first break hit, you were feeling warm as you took some water and the actress playing Maybelle—Jace—stepped up to you, braids piled up on her head as she lifted her water bottle in a toast to you. 

“So, first time being the leading lady, huh?” And you smiled. 

“I’ve been working as just an ensemble cast member for the last few years. I jumped at the chance for the audition with Evan and when I got the call back, I knew it was gonna be what I needed.” You shared a grin with Jace. 

A few other cast members came up to you. It was when the one who was playing Amber bounced over, her blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail, bouncing with her movements. 

It took you a second to remember her name was Cassie. 

“So you’re going to be my enemy for the foreseeable future.” Her tone was teasing, the grin on her lips disarming you for a second. 

“I mean, I guess?” You felt confused and she grinned. 

“Reckon we can be friends?” This had you relaxing instantly. 

“Don’t see the harm in that. And maybe when you’re in character you can teach Irwin good manners.” Cassie laughed as she slung her arm across your shoulders and looped her other with Jace’s 

“That man might be a good actor but if you get him to learn some good manners I think the gods would bless you.” 

When the day finished, both Cassie and Jace were convincing you to come out with them for drinks. And despite the hesitation, you couldn’t say no to their pleading faces.

“Is your place close by?” Cassie finally asked and you could feel a smile settle on your lips. 

“If you’ve already got stuff to change into, we can get ready at my apartment?” The offer was met with an immediate agreement, both girls split from you and began inviting others to the night out. 

You’d made fast friends with both of them by the time you were dressed up with a splash of makeup on. As the three of you left, it felt nice as you laughed at Cassie’s imitation of Ashton. 

“Hi, I’m Ashton Irwin and I’m a cocky son of a bitch who doesn’t like meeting new people.” Her tone and pitch had the two of you cracking up as you waited for the lift. When Cassie had pitched the invite to him, he’d rolled his eyes and told her that he had better plans. It certainly hadn’t endeared him to her with that.

It took barely ten minutes but by the time you reached the club where a lot of the cast were waiting, excitement began to ooze through your body. 

“First round of shots are on me!” You called out to the group, earning excited yells as you all headed in. 

With Cassie’s help—since she knew how many people there were—you got the order in and toasted to the lot of them. 

“May these runs lead up to incredible shows!” With the shot knocked back, Jace was quick to pull you to the floor, the music loud as the two of you danced the night away with the rest of the cast members.

—

You were furious. Beyond furious with Ashton.

He’d crossed a line. To embarrass you in such a way in front of so many directors, it hurt. 

When you got to rehearsals the following morning, your anger hadn’t abated. Jace wisely kept her own counsel as you changed into what you’d dubbed as your rehearsal outfit. Loose fitted tee-shirt and black leggings. 

“You realise that it’s final scenes today?” Jace had quietly commented, her eyes concerned and you could feel your temper bubble. 

“I can be civil with him when we’re on stage. But off stage? All bets are off.” You snapped, slamming your locker shut and making your way through. She fell silent, casting a worried glance with Cassie before they headed onto the stage.

You hadn’t even made it to the stage when a hand grasped your shoulder, pulling you deeper into the wings of the stage, further away from your castmates. Your fury ignited at the audacity of Ashton.

“Look, about last night-” he started, his voice quiet.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Irwin.” You snapped back, cutting him off as you yanked your arm free from his grip. His shock at your reaction stunned him silent. 

“What? Nothing to say to me? Nothing to say to me after you embarrassed me in front of every big fucking name in the industry? Nothing to say to me after saying that my family shouldn’t bother for opening night since I’m going to mess it up?” You didn’t bother keeping your voice down. The director knew you and Ashton didn’t get along well, but you were able to work with him. 

“I just wanted to say-” He tried again but you cut him off.

“You wanted to say what, exactly? That you’re sorry? I don’t want your fucking apology. It’s worthless. You could be the king of fucking england and I still won’t give you my time or attention anymore, unless it’s directly related to work. Now back off.” You snapped, pulling away completely and leaving him stunned.

“Ooo, do we need to be having words?” Cassie teased and you took in a slow deep breath, pushing down your anger towards him so you wouldn’t snap at Cassie. You knew she meant well she always did, but you were still too angry, too hurt to not take it the wrong way.

Evan gave you a lasting look, tapping his fingers on the script. 

“Dance rehearsal today. We’ll work on the scenes later and tomorrow.” He announced, earning groans from the ensemble. Ashton slipped onto the stage quietly. 

You threw Evan a grateful look and he simply nodded as he clapped his hands.

“Chop chop, we don’t have all day for this. We’ll go from where the girls are fighting to be seen on camera.” As the cast rearranged themselves, you stepped over to the corner from where you’d come down. Cassie winked at you and you offered her a weak grin. 

“From the top!” 

-

After you’d yelled at him, Ashton had done his best to keep out of your way before opening night. But on opening night you knew you had to call a truce. 

Knocking on his dressing room door, you waited quietly before you heard him knock something over in his haste to get to the door.

As he pulled it open, his eyes widened in shock to find you standing there in front of him.

“Can I come in?” Your voice was quiet and it took him a moment before he nodded and stepped back, letting you in before closing the door behind you. You had to try and ignore the fact that he was half dressed, his shirt clearly hanging from the back of the chair.

He offered the small couch that was in the corner of his dressing room, pulling the chair over to sit in front of you and suddenly you felt your courage and words disappear.

“So, did you need something?” His voice was hesitant, and you couldn’t exactly blame him for that. Ever since you’d verbally smacked him down before rehearsal, he’d done his best to avoid pissing you off outside of rehearsal. 

His question pulled you back to that moment and you felt your courage return, taking a slow deep breath.

“I’m calling a truce between us. Or at least, a truce between my attitude and yourself.” Although you’d been well in the right to be so angry with him and continue the treatment, he’d done everything he could to change that before backing off.

His jaw dropped at your words, sucking in a sharp breath as he processed your words.

“I-uh, don’t know what to say to that except, thanks, I guess?” You snorted at that.

“I’ve been so furious with you for what you did. You embarrassed me and made me look like some kind of pity pick. After working Broadway for years, do you know how much that hurt me? Hurt my career? ” His face flushed in shame as his gaze dropped to his hands that were resting in his lap.

“I hadn’t even considered...” He trailed off and you scoffed.

“Of course you didn’t. You’re the popular kid. The one people fight over to have on their team. You don’t need to consider other people’s feelings because everyone tries to cater for you.” You couldn't help the bitterness slip out with your words and his eyes lifted to meet yours.

“I really fucked up.” 

“That’s putting it lightly, Ashton. You single handedly nearly destroyed my entire career with those words. Evan had to tell me that he’d had calls from other casting directors who had other names to replace me if he needed it.” You could see that the message was sinking in for Ashton, the guilt etched into his face mixed with a look of horror.

“I’m so sorry, I- I never even realised-” You cut him off.

“The damage is done. Thankfully Evan managed to put them off from that and invited them to the opening night of the show. If we pull this off we could be working together for a lot longer than the two years we’re scheduled to.” A wry smile crossed your lips. “So don’t fuck this up tonight.” 

Ashton stared at you for a solid ten seconds before he started laughing. 

“You’ve got it, doll. How about we start over?” He held his hand out to you and you took a second before grasping his hand. He surprised you by bringing the back of your hand to his lips and without even realising, you’d rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

“It’s one thing to start over with me, but I think you need to start over with the rest of the cast too. Cassie is still fully prepared to scalp you for doing what you did.” He winced at that before letting your hand go.

“I guess I owe it to you and them to start over, don’t I?” You nodded at his words, watching as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I know that everyone has their families in for the opening night and they’re going to want to celebrate this success with them. How about you start with the rehearsal tomorrow and see how that goes?” He nodded at that.

“I think I might just do that. And for what it’s worth, I truly am sorry for what I did and said.” Your eyes studied his face and you let the corner of your lips tug just a little bit.

“I know.” You leaned forwards and kissed his cheek before heading out, leaving him speechless.

-

taglist:  @sexgodashton​, @goth5sos​, @malumsmermaid​, @empathycth​, @wildflowergrae​, @calpops​, @rosecolouredash​, @cakesunflower​, @loveroflrh​, @clockwork124​, @cal-puddies​, @stellar5sosrecs​, @ashtoniwir​ , @cthwldflwr​, @cthla​, @calmlftv​, @spicycal​, @liketheydidwithyou​, @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer​, @bluehairedtracii​, @drummerboy794​, @feliznavidaddycal​, @ukulelecal​​, @thecurlsofgod​​, @converse-luke​​, @madbomb​​, @ccnicole02​​, @youngblood199456​​, @megz1985​​, @lukesidentitycrisis​​, @snapback-irwie​​, @neonweeknds​​, @666yourwitchyfriend666​​, @cashtonasfuck​​, @ashtaway​​, @conquerwhatliesahead92​​, @itjustkindahappenedreally​​, @kchillout​​, @damselindistressanu​​, @colormekaykay​​, @findingliam-o​​, @sublimehood​​, @singledadharrington​​, @sugarcoated-pain​​, @singt0mecalum​​, @calumspeachy​​, @colourfulcalum​​, @lostincalum​​, @burncrashbromance​​, @asht0ns-world​​, @flusteredcliffo​​, @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​​, @fangirl-everythang​​, @lashtonswildflower​​, @lashtondaddies​​, @calumssunshine​​, @ambskiwi​​, @abundant-stars​​, @myescapefromthislife​​, @lmao5sosimagines​​, @beyoncesdragon​​, @jae-writes-fanfiction​​, @cxddlyash​​, @tresfandom​​, @niallisworld​​, @lietomevalntyn​​, @babylon-corgis​​, @monochrome44​​, @behind-my-hazeleyes27​​, @lyllibug​​, @bloodmoonashton​​, @ghostofmashton​​, @summerellaz​​, @a-little-less-sixteen​​, @cashworthy​​, @smokeinherlungs​​, @longlastingdaydream​​, @h0tsos​​, @sadistmichael​​, @sugar-nico​​, @sunnysidesblog​​, @angel-cal​​, @samros95​​, @maluminspace​​, @lukeinblue​​, @britnicole11​​, @gigglyirwin​​, @everyscarisahealingplace​​, @loverofcashton​​, @iovehemmings​​, @g-l-pierce​​, @jannimoeller3​​, @wildmichaelflower​​, @lukeskisses​​, @youngbloodchild​​, @abb-lan-5sos​​, @calumsbub​​, @flameraine​​, @here-for-the-uproars, @mateisit-balsamic​​, @ilovelukey​​, @castaway-cashton​​, @musiclover1263​​, @alloutofcashton​​, @tobefalling​​, @sarahshepherdblog​​, @cassie-sos​​, @possesedperson​​, @treatallwithkindness​​, @wonderlandiswhereitsatyo​​, @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles​​, @ashtonlrwin​​,

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[estellaelysian]

Be still, for I’ve got you

Book/Pairing: Desire and decorum/ Ernest Sinclaire x MC (Gaia Bellamy)

Warnings: None

Summary: Ernest comforts Gaia when she doubts herself.

Words: 1,558

A/N: I was itching to write this from a long time, and so here it is. It was so amazing to write this. I hope you all enjoy it.

He caught her sight that evening again, at the golden ball, across the room from him, smiling and laughing. She seemed to be enjoying the evening, unlike him, who dreaded coming to balls like these, because of a few certain people. People who never seemed to leave him alone, deeming him as one of the eligible bachelors for their daughters, men and women both, irritable and agitating. He turned back to his friends, feigning wonder as they talked, but again, his gaze flitted back to her, dressed in golden silk, a tiara adorning her rich brown hair. Their eyes met for a split second, a second that did not even last as long as it seemed to, before he turned back again, to his mates, which were now talking about the various household affairs, which never seemed to end.

The wit, the easy laughter, the self love – somehow he couldn’t manage to erase those things from his mind, which, again and again, went back to their walk in the gardens, and the way she held on to his arm. Those deep green eyes, like rich emeralds, never seemed to leave his thoughts, and he thought it strange. He was not some obsessive adolescent, but a grown man, with enough work and responsibilities to keep himself and his mind busy the entire time, but that didn’t seem to work this time.

She was talking to Lord Rambathon, someone quite presumptuous, to say the least, shaking her head as she laughed, her eyes sweeping over the room before coming to rest upon his face and turning back again, to the ugly Lord Rambathon, built like a bull, with a thick neck and pocks all over his face. He wished to find out what exactly was it that she saw in him, but decided to hold back his thoughts as the alcohol scorched down his throat. If any of her actions were indications, she appeared quite bored, but again, they were strangers.

Don’t bother, he told himself. She is nothing but a stranger.

Was it true though? He didn’t think it was. They would meet on many occasions in the future – balls and functions and what not, and not to forget, Countess of Dowager probably considered him as one of the eligible bachelors too, and then there was the undeniable hold she had on him. And they were certainly not strangers if they had toured the gardens together.

He let the alcohol burn down again, wishing for his thoughts to fly away and let him enjoy a peaceful moment among the chaotic crowd that surrounded him. That wasn’t practically so hard, if he could just make a quick esc–

‘Hey, Sinclaire, have you heard about Viscount Cooper’s engagement?’

He sighed and shook his head. ‘No, I haven’t.’

***

Gaia turned away from Lord Rambathon when she saw the opportunity take a swift leave, as far away as she could get from his meaningless ramblings about his grand estate and even grander fountains, something she failed to understand no matter how many times he repeated it. She looked for a quiet spot among the incessant chatter and unending line of outstretched arms and warm smiles. But too soon, she found herself talking and nodding in agreement with one of the Bennett’s, a rather self-boastful family for her taste, much like Lord Rambathon. And yet, she’d have to get through. A few minutes passed before the clinking of a fork against a glass cut through the air – which felt too thick – relieving her, for it helped make another escape that evening, as she wished to find Annabelle or even Miss Sutton.

She pushed through the crowd as the voices in the background faded into a blur, mostly because she was trying to put them out of her mind and keep them from bothering her.

“…She is quite beautiful to be a bastard daughter…”

“…Or even related to Edgewater…”

“…Is she really the Earl’s natural daughter? I don’t quite believe that to be true…”

“… They say he didn’t even know about her…”

“…I wish I could be her. Imagine getting from nowhere to there in no time at all…”

The walls seemed to close in on her as someone’s engagement was announced and claps rung through the air as she walked past nodding and smiling people and rushed outside the door, straight toward the gardens.

Hot tears ran down her cheeks which she frantically wiped, hoisting her dress out of the way so that she could walk properly and freely. Was she really cut out for all this?

She didn’t know. A branch cut her arm as she made her way toward the serene lake, bringing forth a thin line of blood as it burned, but she was past caring about that. Yanking off her shoes, she walked on the wet grass barefoot, trying to return to the sweet memories of Govershire, where she was satisfied and happy.

She took a seat at the bench where she had been with Mr. Sinclaire just a few days ago as more tears trickled down her cheeks, her vision blurring.

She looked up at the sky, remembering how she used to do the same with her mother back in Govershire.

‘I need you mama...’

***

Mr. Sinclaire would have to thank Miss Gaia, because following her outside gave him the very reason he needed to get away from the ball.

But as he turned the corner and advanced toward the lone bench where she sat, sniffing, wiping her cheeks, he thought he had witnessed something incredibly personal, something he was not meant to see. Her spirits seemed comparatively low than what they were the day they first met, and he deduced it had to do with the gossiping women at the ball, remembering how much he hated them himself.

He could walk away. That is what he should have done, and yet, he found himself taking a hesitant step toward her. Should he comfort her? Was it really necessary?

No. It was not his place to talk. They were mere strangers. Fifteen minutes of talking did not make people friends. He turned and started to walk away, but, as his fortune could have it, stepped on a twig, and heard her sniff and cough as it cracked beneath his foot.

‘Mr. Sinclaire … I did not see you there.’

‘I am sorry, Miss Bellamy, I didn’t mean to–’

‘It’s alright, no need to apologize at all. This is not my room after all,’ she said, with a wry chuckle.

He hesitated again, but took a step toward the bench, then another, before finally taking a seat beside her, noticing, strangely, for the first time, how cold the night was.

She shivered at the biting breeze that cut through the groove of the trees and brushed past her neck and bare shoulders, leaving her fingers numb, even though she was wearing gloves. He noticed the thin cut on her arm, and instinctively pulled out a clean white handkerchief and pressed it to her arm.

She turned to look at him in surprise, and he immediately realized he had made a mistake.

‘My sincerest apologies, Miss Bellamy. I am truly sorry.’

‘Strange of you to say sorry so many times, given that you are a man of very few words.’

He chuckled softly before pressing the soft white cloth to her arm again.

‘It is what gentlemen do.’

‘How gentle-manly of you to not judge me by my birth,’ she said, laughing as more tears bounced down her cheeks.

He just sat in silence, not responding, because he knew she needed him to listen.

‘I didn’t know people here can be so …’

‘Inconsiderate?’

‘I believe that is a very small word for what I want to say, but it does not matter. I shall not bore you; neither do I find myself in the need of your pity.’

‘I am not here to be sympathetic, Miss Gaia. I am here to comfort you.’

‘How is that any different?’

‘I shall be truthful in every word I say, and not paint you with fake smiles or the thought that I understand what you are going through, because I do not. I assure you, if you do not want to speak, we can sit in silence.’

‘I do not know what to say.’

‘You should not let them get to you. Your father has accepted you, is that not enough?’

‘It is, but isn’t. Well, it is not as if everyone will accept me because my father did. Most of my family doesn’t seem to.’

‘You need to give it time, Miss Bellamy. I have heard what they are talking about, but you’ll have to listen to a lot more over here. You should listen, but should not lower your self esteem in your eyes, nor in anybody else’s. You do not owe them anything, but your father does need you and you need to be here for your father.’

She allowed a faint smile, raising her hand to the wound, giving his some rest.

‘I believe both of us sitting here alone can cause quite the scandal, Mr. Sinclaire. I shall be doomed.’

He laughed. ‘That is, indeed, quite true.’

‘Shall we head back to the ball then?’

‘Only if you allow me to have your first dance.’

 **********

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

[startanewdream]

Mistletoe

Summary:  Genderbend Jily! When Liam Evans and Jamie Potter are trapped under the mistletoe, there is only one way of getting out.

Excerpt: ‘This won't do, Potter’, Liam noted, and she turned to him, upset.

‘So what do you propose? Staying here forever?’

‘Someone is going to pass by eventually’, he told her calmly. ‘But, no, I just thought about us being smart. The purpose of this spell cannot be just to leave us standing here, it wouldn't be fun enough for Zonko's’.

There was a guarded expression on Jamie's face that Liam could not comprehend.

‘What are you thinking about, Evans?’, she asked warily.

‘It’s a mistletoe’, Liam pointed out, but Jamie did not react. ‘What do you know about mistletoe?’

Even before he got trapped in the third-floor corridor, Liam Evans was having an eventful day.

It was supposed to be a quiet day, the last one of class before the beginning of the Christmas holidays. He’d planned for wrapping up some reports before finishing the day with eggnog with his friends in the Common Room. Instead, he was faced with breaking two snowball fights inside the castle, one family fight – Christmas for the McKinnon would be tense this year  - and a discussion between the prefects of Slytherin and Ravenclaw who were refusing to work together after ending their relationship, and applying one detention for that silly first-year who had exploded a dungbomb in the Great Hall – to be held after the return of the classes, Liam wasn’t so mean.

Still, he wished the Christmas spirit was higher that year.

The only good thing about that day was that Liam hadn’t need to face these problems all by himself. The Head Girl had helped him sort everything out, but then they had split in the afternoon. Liam wasn’t particularly thrilled by that, but they had agreed ever since the beginning that Jamie Potter needed a couple of days off every month, and she was usually so committed to her job as Head Girl that Liam had no reason to complain about their arrangement; he could handle things alone twice a month.

Sure, Jamie happened to ask the same nights off that Remy Lupin needed, but Liam tried not to think much about it. He had an inkling feeling about Remy’s condition, and he was sure that Jamie did not share it, but Liam wasn’t going to question if Jamie felt she needed to support her friend in any way she could. There were many things people could say about Jamie Potter, but no one could deny she really cared for her friends.

So instead of double partnering, as usual, Jamie had left him after lunch to patrol the corridors and Liam would replace her by evening. While he was solving issues and finishing the next-semester chronograms, Liam really wished Jamie was there with him; she was so high-spirited and amusing that he felt anything became better when she was around.

That was a newly arrived thought on Liam’s mind, but also one he was quite used to by now. Whatever feelings Liam may have had at the beginning about Dumbledore’s choice of Head Girl – and he had hoped so much it would be Remy -, there was no denying that Jamie had proven herself a good choice. She was a good leader, which, in hindsight, should’ve been obvious for Liam – he always saw how Jamie was the mastermind of her group of friends – and, when Jamie had a goal, she really put her heart into it. It’d been like that with all the pranks she had pulled over the years; it should be the same with being a Head Girl.

All events they had coordinated that semester had been perfect. The two visits to Hogsmeade had happened without any problem and the Halloween feast had been a success. They had even been able to organize the patrols and duties of the prefects in a way that seemed fair while keeping the less patient or nastier prefects away from younger students.

It was easy working with Jamie and, more than that, it was pleasant. When Liam had been appointed Head Boy – one of the few academic joys he could share with his parents –, he’d worried that the Head Girl was someone that would clash with him or even worse, one the Pure-blood supremacists. But Jamie Potter had surpassed any expectation he might have; she had made things amusing.

Two years ago, Liam would not think that working – or even being near – Jamie Potter would be good, but that had been during their Fifth Year and back then things were different. Sometimes he was surprised by how much Jamie had grown up – not just physically, but how she became more mature, more responsible, and less… self-centered.

Sometimes she seemed like another person altogether, but Liam knew that wasn’t a fair thought. Jamie could have changed, just as Liam had changed over the years, but her main traits were still there: she was still as brave and daring and faithful to her friends as she always had been. The only things that had changed were that she had stopped hexing people just for the fun of it and, if she was talking about Quidditch, it was not just to show herself out.

In fact, Jamie had started to teach others about flying. There were some days she could be found helping other teams or teaching better flying technics for first years. Liam had seen her even talking with the Ravenclaw prefect, who was also a chaser, both sitting together in one of the couches of the Prefect’s Room, discussing flying moves; they looked strangely friendly together, until Liam felt it was his duty to remind Jamie that they needed to start the prefect meeting. Jamie had dutifully came to his side and Liam had felt satisfied with it, until he realized it was a strange feeling; later, he told himself that it was only because the first Quidditch game of the season was coming and his competitive spirit had arisen.

It was a reasonable feeling. Whatever amount of showing off Jamie had done in the past, even when Liam thought her head should be bigger to fit her ego, he could not deny that she flew well. There was something beautiful in the way she seemed to dance in the air, deflecting bludgers and darting across the field to score a goal; her untidy black hair would wave around her as she flew and the smile she had while playing was always blazing.

Not that Liam had appreciated that smile; her blazing Quidditch smile was the same that Jamie had thrown at him all along Fifth Year, whenever she would sit by his side in the Common Room and tried to talk to him, her face flushed and her eyes shining behind her glasses. It had taken Liam some time to figure out what her endgame was, but even after Jamie lost her temper and declared out loud that she wanted to go out with him, he hadn't been interested.

The problem was that Jamie seemed to think she would grant him the greatest honour of going out with her, and even though Liam knew she was pretty - he had eyes, after all - he couldn't ignore how arrogant and immature she was - and there was the fact that Jamie couldn’t leave Severa Snape alone. So he had denied going out with her, not once but twice – the second invitation had come during that incident - and after that, Jamie had never mentioned going out with him again.

That was good, Liam supposed. His Sixth Year had been difficult enough - without Sev – for him worrying about Jamie's attempt at seduction. And for all he knew, her Sixth Year had been stressful as well: he noticed how she was soberer, how suddenly protective she was of Sirina Black for whatever happened during the summer holiday (someone said something about Black running away from home), and how even the pranks she was involved seemed to be less aggressive and just more entertaining.

And now Jamie had probably turned her seduction attempts on to someone else, Liam thought grumpily. He was in the Prefect’s Room, glancing at his watch and wondering what had happened to delay Jamie – she was usually careful on those days of Full Moon – when his gaze fell to that very couch where he had seen Jamie and the Ravenclaw monitor chatting excitedly a few days ago. Corner was also on duty patrol that afternoon; he was scheduled to patrol near the Astronomy Tower, while Jamie was supposed to be patrolling the halls on the other side of the castle, but maybe they had met in a desert corridor somewhere.

And then they had resumed their discussion about chasing strategies, or whatever metaphor Quidditch players used to snog in the corridors.

At that point, Liam had sprung to his feet, annoyed. He told himself that Jamie could do whatever she fancied, of course, but she shouldn't keep him waiting; there were reports to be filled out, and if, afterwards, she wanted to enjoy her night off with Corner, that was fine.

Only it didn't feel fine, Liam thought, while walking around the second-floor corridor that Jamie was supposed to be patrolling – it was empty, as no one wanted to be in that cold outside of their own Common Room. Liam knew it wasn’t his business, not really, but Jamie had asked for those nights off because of Lupin, and if she was using them for date nights –

‘It's just because it's not fair’, Liam murmured to himself, even though he didn't know exactly what sounded so unfair to him.

But when he found Jamie on the third-floor, she was alone. Even more, she looked angry. Liam took a moment to study her, unnoticed under the shadow of a statue, trying to figure out what was wrong. Jamie seemed to punch her fists in the air, cursing the apparent emptiness; after a few seconds, she sat on the floor, and her rich dark hair covered her face.

Liam advanced, confused, not understanding why she would be sitting on that cold floor. When he was a few steps away, Jamie suddenly raised her head and Liam found himself staring at that pair of hazel eyes that had puzzled him for a few months now, ever since they had first faced each other as Head Boy and Girl; he had never been able to decide whether they were brown with green spots, or green with brown spots.

‘Evans!’, Jamie cried, smiling hopefully and getting up. ‘I’m so glad you are here, I need...’, and then she opened her eyes wide and stretched out her hands. ‘No, no, stop now!’

But Jamie became suddenly quiet when Liam took another step closer, and an expression of utter terror appeared on her face.

‘Oh, great, really great’, she said bitterly and went back to sit on the floor, hugging her legs.

‘Potter?’, Liam asked, frowning, as he kneeled in front of her. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘No, of course it’s not. You are the first person to walk this corridor in hours and I couldn’t stop you in time and now we are both trapped in this forsaken spot’.

‘Trapped?’

She lifted her head to look at him; in the candlelight, Liam thought her eyes were more brown than green.

‘Try to get out’, Jamie suggested tiredly, and for a moment, lost in the mysteries of the colours of her eyes, Liam had forgotten what they were talking about. Then he shook his head and got up, trying to take a step back. To his surprise, there seemed to be a wall behind him, but when he turned around, there was nothing. ‘It’s charmed’, she explained, pointing up, and Liam saw that there was a clump of white berries hanging from the ceiling directly above them. ‘You just needed to take it off and then I was free’.

He sat on the floor beside her.

‘Couldn’t we - I don't know - burn it? Maybe repel the charm?’

‘I've been trying here for hours, Evans, but please be my guest’, she replied with a grimace, running a hand through her dark hair and leaning against the invisible wall to watch him.

Liam felt self-conscious, but he took out his wand and started casting spells towards the berries on the ceiling. Nothing seemed to hit it, as if there was an invisible barrier protecting it.

‘I told you’, Jamie said dryly. When he turned to her, Liam saw that she had taken off her glasses, and was pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘We are stuck here until someone removes this stupid mistletoe’.

‘Who put it here?’

‘I don't know’. When she noticed Liam's questioning look, Jamie held up her hands in defence. ‘It wasn't any of us! We never would – I mean, someone must have had too much fun in their Christmas shopping at Zonko's and forgot to remove the mistletoe’. Jamie took a deep breath and looked at Liam intently. ‘If it were one of us, do you think I would be stupid enough to go under the mistletoe without having a way to remove it?’

No one could accuse Jamie Potter and her group of Marauders of being stupid, so Liam nodded. Jamie closed her eyes again; there was such a desperate expression on Jamie's face that Liam felt compelled to comfort her. He imagined that for someone who felt so comfortable flying in the sky, Jamie must really hate confined spaces.

‘Won't your friends come looking for you? You are always together’, he reminded her gently. She frowned.

‘They have no way of knowing where we are. Remy must be in the infirmary by now’. Jamie suddenly hesitated. ‘Ah – she – she is not feeling well, something she ate, I think’, she added, looking away, and Liam didn't want to confess he knew she was lying. ‘Petra was late in presenting that extra Transfiguration essay, she must still be in the library, and Sirina is in detention, isn't she?’

And now Jamie gave Liam a critical look, but he didn't back off, just crossing his arms.

‘You know Sirina deserved that detention’.

‘For hexing those Slytherins?’, Jamie asked, inflamed, and Liam thought it was much better to see her like that than in despair. The passion with which Jamie defended her friends was endearing; it had always been one of her best traits. ‘You know they were annoying those Second Years, calling them names, and if she hadn't hex them –’

‘I didn’t have an issue with what she did’, Liam replied calmly, making Jamie raise her eyebrows in surprise. ‘She didn't get a detention for hexing them, but for being caught’. He grinned. ‘It was a good charm, those birds were pecking them, they went screaming down the hall’.

‘It was great, wasn't it?’, Jamie said, with a look of pride on her face as if she had done the charm herself. ‘Sirina has always been good at transfiguration of animals’.

And now there was an enigmatic smile on her lips, and Liam found himself staring at it, trying to understand what secret she was hiding beneath that smile. She had beautiful lips, he thought, pink and shining; sometimes, when she was thoughtful, Liam saw her biting her lips, and there was something strangely alluring in the way her teeth pressed gently her lips and he wondered if they were soft as they looked like –

Liam shook his head and looked away from that smile. He told himself that the two of them were friends now, and if Jamie had her secrets, he shouldn't try to decipher them.

‘I thought you girls had your way of communication’, he noted, thinking it was a safe topic. The Marauders always mentioned this, pride of themselves.

‘We do, but –‘, Jamie sighed unhappily. ‘I don’t have my stuff here and we lost our map last month, so -‘

‘Map?’

She gave him one of her most mischievous smiles, the one that always made something flutter in Liam's chest, wanting to share it; there had always been something pleasant and inviting about Jamie Potter's smiles.

‘We had an exceptionally good map that showed where people were, but the new caretaker, Filch, confiscated it last month’.

Liam raised his eyebrows.

‘As if that would stop you from getting it back’.

‘You know, Evans, you stun me like that’, Jamie replied teasingly. ‘Shouldn't the Head Boy be against invading the caretaker’s office?’

As usually happened in her presence, Liam felt a smile appear on his face that he could not control.

‘I already told you, my problem usually is not with what you are up to, I am only against you being caught’.

She laughed and that sound also made something flutter in Liam's chest. It was so easy to be in Jamie's company.

‘Fair enough. I supposed we might not get caught, although that cat of his makes it very difficult. I swear she can see through – through everything’, she added hastily, and again Jamie looked away; Liam thought it was funny how she couldn't seem to face him when she wasn't telling the truth. ‘But Sirina is not in the mood. She said it would be unfair of me to use it now that I became a Head Girl’.

Jamie shook her head absently, making her hair dance around her; for a moment Liam lost himself in the way her hair curled and how that movement reflected the candlelight in the hall. It was almost hypnotic.

‘She'll never forgive me, you know’.

‘What?’

‘For being Head Girl. She thinks Dumbledore must have lost his mind’. Jamie sighed heavily, leaning against the invisible barrier, and closed her eyes. ‘Well, she is probably right’.

‘I don't think Dumbledore has lost anything’, Liam replied slowly, ignoring the fact that he had thought the same thing in the beginning, when he saw Jamie Potter appearing in the prefect’s carriage. ‘You are an excellent Head Girl’.

A blush appeared on her face and Jamie turned, hiding her face with her hair. Liam remembered how there had been a time, between Fourth and Fifth Year, when Jamie Potter always seemed to be flustered in his presence, which made her friends laugh at her and tease her with japes that were not meant to be heard by anyone out of their group.

Afterwards he had a good idea of what was behind that teasing, but at the time Liam didn't really care except to complain about something that she and her friends were involved with.

She couldn’t be blushing for the same reason now, Liam considered. Since the end of their Fifth Year, Jamie had shown no particular interest in him. She was just probably confused that he had praised her as Head Girl – and now that he stopped to think about it, Liam realized that he had never mentioned it to Jamie before.

‘I'm serious, Potter’, he said softly. ‘You are a good leader, tenacious, even responsible’.

She let out a sparkling laugh, one that was so full of joy that it seemed to make the day brighter.

‘That’s how I know you're joking, Evans’, she replied, and when she raised her head to look at him again, her face was no longer flushed. It was a pity, Liam thought suddenly; there was something charming in the way she blushed.

‘I'm not. There is really no one else that could be a better Head Girl than you’.

There was a gleam in her eyes that Liam couldn't identify; if he had to describe it, he would say it was a warm glow as if her eyes – which now seemed more green than brown –  could radiate a heat stronger than any fire.

‘Watch it, Evans’, she said lightly, though she didn't seem to be jesting. ‘Keep like that and I will think you don't hate me’.

Liam frowned.

‘But I don’t hate you’, he replied, perplexed. When she raised her eyebrows in disbelief, he felt compelled to explain. ‘I didn’t like the things you did or how you behaved, but –‘

‘I’m feeling so unhated, Evans –‘

‘I never hated you’, Liam insisted. ‘I just thought that you – that you could be better. That maybe you should spend your talents on more useful things, without – you know – without bullying others’.

And now Liam looked away, feeling uncomfortable as it always happened when he thought of Severa Snape.

‘I –‘, Jamie hesitated, sounding uncomfortable too. ‘I never said anything, but I'm really sorry about it. Hexing other people, I mean’.

Liam turned to her, trying to understand all the trouble that was on her face. It wasn't as if Jamie and her friends had stopped hexing people altogether, but the reports he had heard at least hinted that they had been provoked – or, as had happened with Sirina the day before, they were defending someone.

He could still hear the derision in the voice of those Slytherins, as they called those poor girls Mudblood, and if Liam was almost immune to that slur after seven years, it still made his blood boil; Sirina Black had meddled before Liam could do anything, and honestly, if it weren't for the mess it had caused, attracting attention from the professors, Liam wasn't sure he would have even reprimanded her for it. As it was, he made sure to give her a light detention – copying lines, of all things –, but Sirina did not seem to appreciate his effort.

‘Sometimes people deserve it’, Liam heard himself saying.

‘And sometimes they don’t’, Jamie added quietly. ‘For these times I am really sorry’.

There was something apprehensive in Jamie's face now, and Liam wondered if she too was thinking about that incident at the end of their Fifth Year – the one that had caused Liam and Severa Snape to stop being friends.

‘We just wanted to make people laugh’, Jamie continued. ‘But we got carried away and…', she bit her lip nervously and Liam felt a sudden urge to touch her mouth, so she wouldn't hurt herself. ‘I'm sorry for you and Snape’.

That drove Liam's gaze away from Jamie's lips and he looked back into her eyes – brown with tones of green, he thought. She looked sincere.

‘You never liked Severa’.

‘I am not sorry for her’, Jamie said. ‘But for you. I know you were – you were friends’.

The way Jamie sounded when she mentioned the word “friends” was as if she didn't believe in that definition – or as if she wanted to imply something else, but Liam knew that would be rubbish. There had never been anything between him and Severa, they had only been friends since childhood. And whatever Jamie had done that day, it wasn't because of her that Liam had cut his relationship with Snape.

‘It wasn't your fault’, he said in a low voice, making her raise her eyebrows. ‘I mean, what happened to me and Severa – it wasn’t – you didn't force her to call me anything, did you?’

‘I don't know’. Jamie looked awkward. ‘Maybe if I hadn’t hexed –‘

‘No’, Liam interrupted, firmly. ‘She said what she said because it is what she believes in, in all those supremacists, in You-Know-Who’s ideals. She always believed that muggles and wizards like me are inferior, I just never wanted to see it before’.

Jamie frowned as if she wasn’t quite sure about what Liam was saying, but she didn't say anything. Liam thought that reaction was funny because it almost looked like Jamie Potter was defending Severa Snape as if they hadn't hated each other since the first moment they met years ago.

Sometimes Liam presumed that the reason for the animosity was because Jamie had always been everything Severa wanted to be: she was popular, she was good at Quidditch, she attracted everyone's attention since... since always, if Liam thought about it.

At first, it was because of the noise; Jamie Potter was deafening, unable to stay or remain in silence, and she had found a perfect company in Sirina Black and then Remy Lupin and Petra Pettigrew. Before the end of the First Year, everyone seemed to know them at Hogwarts, that group of Gryffindor girls who were always together, always involved in some turmoil, who called themselves Marauders.

Then it was because of Quidditch when Jamie had joined the Gryffindor team in her Second Year. She was the youngest girl on the team, but her talent became evident when, despite the size disadvantage, she had dribbled all opponents to become the top scorer that year.

And then, between Fourth and Fifth Year, it was because of her looks. Jamie would never be as intimidating as Sirina Black in beauty, but the fact that Sirina really didn't seem to care about dates had made her less appealing.

Liam might not have cared much for Jamie Potter at the time, but he couldn't deny that she was pretty, with that athletic body and a face that looked carefully drawn: a small upturned nose, pink lips that were made to smile, bright hazel eyes that shone behind her glasses, and an untamed dark hair, framing it all.

But it was strange for Liam to think of Jamie Potter's beauty because it was not something he had allowed himself to seriously consider before; her beauty had always seemed just a detail, one that did not matter when he was busy being annoyed with her. And if he would think about it now, when Jamie didn't annoy him anymore, when he felt he really enjoyed her company –

Now it would be very different, and Liam didn't know how to deal with it.

‘Do you know what time it is?’, Jamie asked, sounding tired again.

‘Almost nine, I think, it was past eight when I started patrolling’.

‘Nine?’, Jamie cried, seeming more nervous than before. ‘We need to get out of here soon, otherwise...’, she stopped and looked through the window at the starred night. ‘The moon will rise soon’.

Liam frowned. He understood why Remy Lupin would be concerned about this, but he didn’t think Jamie had the same issues.

‘I really need to go’, Jamie murmured to herself, and she raised suddenly, full of determination. Liam had a brief look at her bare legs before deciding it was best to get up too.

Jamie pointed to the ceiling, casting spell after spell, but nothing seemed to hit the mistletoe – as far as Liam could understand, it was as if nothing crossed that cylinder of magic they were in because another spell was dismissed in thin air when she tried to destroy one of the statues in the hallway to call attention.

Liam looked again at the ceiling, then sighed.

‘This won't do, Potter’, he noted, and she turned to him, upset.

‘So what do you propose? Staying here forever?’

‘Someone is going to pass by eventually’, he told her calmly. ‘But, no, I just thought about us being smart. The purpose of this spell cannot be just to leave us standing here, it wouldn't be fun enough for Zonko's’.

There was a guarded expression on Jamie's face that Liam could not comprehend.

‘What are you thinking about, Evans?’, she asked warily.

‘It’s a mistletoe’, Liam pointed out, but Jamie did not react. ‘What do you know about mistletoe?’

‘First year of Herbology. The mistletoe is a kind of a parasitic plant, commonly used in love potions and fertility potions’, she said, blushing slightly.

‘Exactly’, he agreed, ignoring the fact that his neck also seemed suddenly warm. ‘Well, in Norse mythology, the berries of the mistletoe came from the tears of the goddess Frigg when she wept for her son, who was killed by an arrow made of the mistletoe. Since then it is associated with love, which is why there is the tradition of people kissing under the mistletoe at Christmas’.

It was much easier for Liam to focus on what he knew about the origins of the myth than to think about the implications of what he was saying, especially because all Jamie seemed to do in response was to open her eyes more and more – the same ones Liam had spent so much time in the last months studying, trying to understand its colours.

After a minute of silence, Jamie asked quietly: ‘How do you know so much about Norse mythology?’

This was not what Liam expected to hear. He blinked.

‘I like to understand the mythology behind the ingredients in potions’, he replied, disconcerted. When Jamie just nodded, as if that answer was all she wanted to know about the topic, he said, ‘Aren't you going to say anything?’

‘About what?’

‘Ah – about what I just told you? The history of the mistletoe?’

‘It's just a myth. And it doesn’t even make sense, the Nordics didn't celebrate Christmas’.

‘No, but Christians are known to adapting different aspects of other religions. Yes, I like to study mythology’, he added, when Jamie opened her mouth.

‘You are so dork, Evans’.

‘I am curious’, he corrected, grinning, and for a moment Jamie smiled back, as if unable to resist his smile; then she looked away. ‘But you still haven't said anything’.

‘There's nothing to say, Evans’, Jamie murmured, looking extremely interested in the view outside the window, even though it was too dark to see anything. ‘It seems you are suggesting we kiss under the mistletoe to end the spell and that does not make any sense’.

‘Of course it does’, Liam disagreed as reasonably as he could, although his heart had raced when he heard her talking casually about them kissing. ‘It's a mistletoe, isn't it? It would be the kind of joke they’d sell at Zonko's, to make sure that people beneath it have to kiss to get out’.

‘It's a terrible joke’, she noted, still whispering.

‘You understand better than me the humour in Zonko’s. But still, that seems to be the answer’.

She looked back at him, her eyes drifting between shock and unhappiness.

‘I'm not going to kiss you, Evans’, she said finally.

‘Look, I'm just as happy as you are to be stuck here under a mistletoe’, Liam replied, crossing his arms. ‘But you have an appointment, right? And we can stay here waiting for who knows how long or we can try to break this spell’.

Liam could easily read the conflict in Jamie's eyes; she was probably tired, bored, and hungry after being there for hours, and whatever she had to do, it seemed important to her. But at the same time, there was a strange hesitation, which gave him the feeling that the last thing Jamie wanted to do was kiss him.

He thought of all the times she had smiled at him during the Fifth Year when she would find any excuse to touch him almost as if she wasn’t noticing it, or when she would wink at him, and even when she finally asked him out. None of that had happened in the last couple years and for the first time, Liam considered what it meant: the crush that Jamie Potter had had for him was gone, which explained why she seemed so against kissing him.

Liam felt suddenly disappointed with that realization and he struggled for a moment to understand. Then he thought of a perfectly reasonable explanation: it was natural that he felt disappointed because if she wanted to kiss him, they might have already solved their current situation.

‘I didn't do it’, Jamie said suddenly and forcefully. ‘I didn't put that mistletoe there’.

‘I know’, Liam replied, baffled, because he had believed her when she had denied having anything to do with the mistletoe. He didn’t think Jamie would lie to him about something like that. Then he grinned, looking at her petite figure. ‘I don’t think you could reach the ceiling’.

‘Moron’, she complained, but she seemed to relax a little after his joke. ‘Do you really think it will work?’

There was a warm feeling spreading in Liam’s chest now that he noticed she didn’t seem to reject the idea so much. He accounted for the satisfaction of knowing they were close to lifting that charm.

‘I think so and it's worth the try, isn't it? What do we have to lose?’

From the expression on Jamie's face, it looked like there were several things that could be lost, but she just nodded.

‘Okay. I –‘, Jamie took a deep breath, as if to calm herself, but Liam didn't think it helped much. Her lips were trembling. ‘I think just one touch will be enough, nobody would force two people to really – you know –‘

‘It makes sense’, he agreed, smiling at her practicality. For some reason, his smile seemed to fluster her. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Sure’, she replied, although she didn't look remotely alright. ‘Super excited. All I wanted to do was spend the holiday’s eve snogging a guy who doesn't even find me attractive’.

‘Oh’, he blinked, feeling as flustered as she looked. ‘Who said I don't find you attractive?’

‘You?’ Jamie bit her lips uneasily. ‘You know, when –‘, she blushed and refused to look at him. ‘When I was - well, during Fifth Year’.

‘Oh’, he repeated, feeling that he was blushing too. ‘It had nothing to do with that, I mean, that was never the problem’.

Liam hesitated, knowing that what had made him uninterested in dating Jamie Potter had never been a lack of physical attraction. He wished he could explain it, but for some reason, staring at her, the words became tangled in his mouth. ‘You are kind of attractive, Potter’.

She blinked and looked at him again.

‘“Kind of attractive”?’, she repeated. ‘Wow, you know how to make a girl feel special, Evans’.

Liam swallowed hard; Jamie had crossed her arms, looking like any kind of physical contact was out of limits, and this time, Liam couldn't blame her.

‘No, that came out wrong, that's not what I meant’, he said, and when she continued to look bothered, he took a step closer to her. She quivered and raised her head, looking at him with a challenging expression.

Liam allowed himself to look at Jamie Potter, to really lost himself in every detail of her pretty face, leaving those hazel eyes for last (brown with sparkles of green in the center, he was sure now). ‘You are beautiful, Jamie’.

There was a sharp, shocked intake of breath, and suddenly the challenge disappeared from her eyes, replaced by that warmth that made him want to get closer to her, like an insect unable to resist the attraction of the light. Jamie smiled, but before he could interpret that smile, she blinked and looked away.

‘Okay, okay, Evans’, she said lightly. ‘You get points for trying. So, how do you want to do it?’

She sounded objective, which didn’t surprise Liam. He knew that Jamie Potter was drawn to solving challenges.

‘We kiss?’

‘Okay, but –‘, she paused and took a deep breath one last time. ‘Okay, close your eyes’.

‘What?’

‘I will not kiss you with our eyes open, it would be awkward. Well, more awkward’, she said. When Liam just kept looking at her, Jamie rolled her eyes. ‘We would look like two fishes out of the water, we don't need to make this weirder than it already is’.

‘Okay’, he agreed, smiling with the exasperation in her voice. ‘And why do I have to close my eyes?’

‘Oh, no’, she said forcefully, shaking her head and making her dark curls swing around her. ‘I will not be the girl who waits patiently for a kiss, I refuse to play that role’.

‘And I can be the guy who waits?’

‘It was your idea, Evans’, Jamie replied, grinning mischievously, looking more like herself.

‘Okay, Potter, whatever makes you happy’.

Liam sighed and closed his eyes.

‘Just lower your head a little, Evans’, Jamie asked him in a whisper. ‘You are too tall’.

He laughed at the tone of complaint in her voice and lowered his head, although it occurred to him that if she would just wrap her hands around his neck, they would be closer enough that the height wouldn’t matter much. He could imagine how, despite having rough hands - always with callus because of Quidditch - Jamie would be delicate, how he would feel the tip of her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck and how that touch would make him shiver –

Liam did shiver, but he supposed it was because of the cold that came in through the window; then it occurred to him that he shouldn't feel cold, not when Jamie should be close enough to kiss him.

‘Potter?’, he called uncertainly, and for a moment he thought she had left until he realized there was no way of leaving.

‘Sorry, I – I…’, Jamie sounded nervous again. ‘I was just gathering courage’.

He laughed softly.

‘You're a Gryffindor, Potter’, he reminded her. ‘If there is someone who has more than enough courage, it is –‘

But he never finished his sentence, because Jamie had finally taken a step towards him and had touched his lips with hers. They were really as soft and smooth as Liam had wondered in those hours of reflection in the Prefect’s Room.

She was mindful of what they had agreed on - had they agreed on something? Liam wasn’t sure anymore - and although her body was close to his – he could feel how warm she was –, Jamie was not touching him more than strictly necessary; her hands were not around his neck, her body was not embracing him and that kiss was not really a kiss - it was barely a brush.

If Liam was able to think logically, really think, he would know that what they were supposed to do now was to break apart and see if that kiss had broken the spell; he didn’t even need to think because Jamie was dutifully getting away from him. But as she stepped back, not even an inch away, her lips parted naturally and, in that fraction of a second, Liam could feel her breath. It was refreshing, like cherry berries, and then all thoughts were gone from his head, replaced by a single need: to actually kiss Jamie Potter.

His hands came to life and while one hand wrapped around her waist, the other buried itself in her hair, approaching them, while his head tilted, touching her lips again and asking silently for better access. If Jamie was confused by this sudden change, she didn't show: her lips parted more, allowing their tongues to touch, and Liam suddenly wished they had done that before, many times before. It was good to kiss her, it was good to find out what the best angle was, it was good to feel the touch of her hands when she finally raised her arms to put them around his neck - and the feeling of her hands, the way she played with his hair and seemed to put him on fire, was even better than he had imagined.

He needed to be even closer. He pulled her towards him, and Jamie accepted easily that he led her on as they moved down the corridor, without breaking the kiss until he felt the stonewall behind him. Then he turned them around, to press her against the wall, feeling her body against his and kissing her more urgently than before; a cry escaped her throat, and Liam felt that sound reverberate in every part of his body. He had thought her laughter was his favourite Jamie Potter sound - it was always so lively, so mischievous – but that was before that moan. He definitely wanted to reproduce that.

It was only this sudden urge that made him break their kiss; the sound that came out of Jamie now was of mutiny, but Liam kissed her lightly on the lips, as a promise that he would return - there was no way he would not return -, before lowering his head to kiss her neck, planting soft kisses there that made her tremble; but she remained quiet until his lips found a particular spot just below her earlobe - and then she moaned again and, satisfied, he sought her lips, wanting to feel her taste again, determined to kiss her forever.

To his surprise, however, Jamie turned her face away from him and his lips just brushed her cheek. Her face was hot, but then everything seemed as warm as a summer day.

‘Evans’, Jamie called, in a voice that was strangely unsteady. ‘It worked’.

‘Huh?’, Liam asked, confused, opening his eyes.

Jamie wasn’t looking at him; she was breathing heavily and there was uncertainty written all over her face. Her glasses were crooked, and her lips were swollen; that combination was strangely one of the most attractive things Liam had ever contemplated in his life.

‘The mistletoe. Our – the kiss worked. We can stop now’.

For a second, Liam remained confused, as if he had been awakened violently from a dream in the middle of the night and was not sure what was going on. Then he remembered the mistletoe and their plan and realized where he was: six feet away from the place where those white berries hung innocently from the ceiling, with his body pressing Jamie Potter against the wall in such a way that he could feel every curve of her body, its heat and the intoxicating perfume she wore. And if he felt her like this, then she would also feel exactly how he was reacting to that proximity –

He took a step back, feeling the heat in his body now concentrating on his neck, which had always been a sign of anxiety.

‘Yeah, well, it was a – a good idea, you were right after all’, Jamie mumbled, walking around him. ‘Now, can - can you take it out? Carefully?’

Liam nodded quietly; he didn't feel he could elaborate a full sentence, not with the way his lips still tingled from that kiss.

He raised his feet as much as he could and tore the mistletoe off the ceiling.

‘Here’, Jamie asked, still not looking at him, extending her hand. He gave her the mistletoe, almost throwing it, not trusting himself to touch her again; he could still feel the way her hands had buried themselves in his hair and caressed the back of his neck, while their lips moved together, and every part of him suddenly screamed to restart that kiss. ‘Thanks, now –‘.

She burned the mistletoe with her wand. For a moment they just stared in silence ato the flames consuming the plant.

‘Nobody else is going to get trapped now’, Jamie said, at least.

Liam nodded in silence, still dizzy.

‘I have to go’, she murmured. He cleared his throat, forcing his voice out.

‘I will continue my patrol’, he replied, also in a whisper; his voice was coarse.

‘Sure, good patrol, Evans’. Jamie breathed heavily before smiling, although it didn't look like her usual easy smile. ‘Watch out there, you don't want to be stuck under another mistletoe’.

The only thought that occurred to Liam was that if he were to be stuck with Jamie, it wouldn't be so bad. In fact, it seemed even a good idea, because then he could fulfil his promise to kiss her again and he really wanted to do it again.

‘See you, Evans’. Jamie added and Liam blinked, surprised. She had walked away from him without him noticing.

Liam took a deep breath, trying to put a little sense into his thoughts.

‘See you, Potter. Happy... Happy Holidays’.

She turned to him and now, finally, she let her gaze met his. There was a vulnerable expression on her face that Liam had never seen before and it occurred to him that he would like to hold her, to ask what was going on behind those hazel eyes that had puzzled him since the beginning of the semester, and mostly he wanted to snog her again until she looked at him with nothing but warmth and confidence.

He took a step closer to her and, for a moment, Liam thought she would also walk back to him, and they would continue where they left off and he swore he could already feel the taste of her lips; but Jamie just gave him a brave smile.

‘Happy holidays, Evans’, she said quietly, and then she disappeared down the corridor.

[mizumelona]

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

MASTERLIST

PREV | DATE 1 - THE CLUELESS ASSHOLE | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106 @kasandrafaye @veggytaled @svtbitch @stinkyobeymerat@hollypastl @differentballooncollection @o51oc @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper @kaisemieita

~

Your date stepped into the restaurant with a smile. Glasses. Neat hair. Handsome enough to avoid any major roasts from your family. Perfect.

“Hi, it’s great to finally meet you! I’m y/n”, you tried to make your voice sound demure. Stay cool y/n. Stay cool. Don’t even think about what the lemon head jerk said.

“Hi. I’m Hanate. You look…great” Another snicker from the direction of the bar.

“Thanks for coming all the way here to meet me. So, let’s go sit over there”, You threw a warning look at Atsumu and guided Hanate towards a table as far away from the bar as possible, making sure Atsumu was out of his line of sight. Osamu soon followed, placing two glasses of water on the table.

He pulled out a little notepad. “What’ll you be havin’ today?”

Hanate looked at you. “What’s good at this place?”

“I love the minced tuna and spring onion rice ball.” You thought you saw Atsumu’s head perk up in your direction.

“Cool.” He turned to Osamu, I’ll get one of those too.”

“Two minced tuna and spring onion rice balls comin’ right up”, Osamu repeated the order and went back to the prep station. You turned to your date.

“So, how’s your day going?”

“I’m so glad it’s the weekend.”

“Yeah! Totally!”, you picked up your glass of water to take a sip.

“I’ll never understand those try hard workaholics. It’s like, who do they think they are acting all high and mighty”. Cough. Some water went down the wrong pipe. Okay, that was unexpected, but it’s fine he doesn’t have to know about your work habits right away. You could always warm him up to it later. First you’d get him to fall for you and everything could fall into place later.

“Uh…yeah…”, you tried your best to make your response sound enthusiastic.

“But it is nice to be making good money. You know, my uncle hooked me up with this sweet job. I barely do anything, and I’m still making stacks.”  He gave you little side eye that he probably thought made him look cool. It didn’t. “You never know, if things work between us maybe he can work something out for you too”

You started to scoff but remembered that you were supposed to be getting this guy to like you, so you played it off as clearing your throat.

“Well…I don’t know about that”, You tried changing the topic. “So, what kinds of things are you interested in?”

“Ah my hobbies are pretty spread out. I don’t like to spend too much time on one thing. I can’t be tied down y’know. What about you?”

“I’m pretty interested in technology, especially applications that make education more accessible”

“Oh have you heard of the app GO”

“Ah, yeah I actually know a lot about it-”

“Well, did you know that the app won at the design awards last year. The creators must’ve spent ages coming up with it”

“Actually, It was a fairly simple concept rooted in values of co-creation”

“Uh…I’m pretty sure it was a minimal design where people work together toward the final result.”

Your eyebrow twitched. Isn’t that exactly what you just said but using different words?

“Well”, You started with a sly smile. “I think I would know the app I designed”

That shut him up. Haha.

But the satisfying moment was quickly interrupted by some loud guffaws coming from the blondie at the bar. Somehow you knew it wasn’t because he stumbled upon a funny meme. Sure, it felt great to flex on your clueless date, but that was none of his business. You made a sly glance in Atsumu’s direction. He was looking directly at you with a shit eating grin.

“Uh…Well…”, Hanate still looked like he was struggling coming up something to say after your little roast. He frowned turning to look in Atsumu’s direction “Wow that guy is really loud. Wait is he looking this way-“

“Oh!”, you exclaimed.

Oh hell no. You were not about to let some rando dye job jerk get in the way of your plans to conquer romance. You needed him to shut up. Now. But you weren’t going to be able to do that while trying to look like a lady for you date. Quickly, you formulated a plan. You lifted your arm as if you were going to pick up your glass of water, but made a sweeping motion knocking your phone off Hanate’s side of the table. Bingo.

“Oh I’m so sorry about that. My hand slipped. Could you grab it for me?”

“Uh sure no problem”

The moment his head dipped below the table, you made eye contact with Atsumu and made a quick motion dragging your thumb across your neck. Keep that up and you’re dead. He smirked and shrugged. Like I care. Bastard.

“Two minced tuna and spring onion rice balls”, Osamu was back at the table with your onigiri. Steam was billowing off the rice and the smell of the tuna wafted in the air.

“Wow it looks great! Thank you!”

The rice balls were delicious as always, but once you two started eating the conversation died. No matter what you asked Hanate’s responses were short. “Do you like the food?”, “Yeah…”, “Did you see that new movie?”, “Yeah…”. You took another bite resisting the urge to roll your eyes. Did getting roasted hurt his ego that much?

Once you finished eating you two split the bill and prepared to go your separate ways.

You turned to Hanate. “Well, I’m going to run to the bathroom before I head out, but today was nice.” It actually sucked but in case a second date was still an option you kept the thought to yourself. Even if this guy was clueless you could always dump him after you brought him to a family brunch.

“Yeah…”

~

Atsumu took another satisfying bite out of his onigiri. He’d been having a pretty shitty day, but watching y/n’s date crash and burn was the best thing he’d seen all week. Atsumu had no respect for useless, clueless people, so watching y/n roast this guy had been fucking hilarious. He did wonder why it seemed like she was trying to make this guy like her when she obviously didn’t like him. She was definitely out of this lame guy’s league, not that it was any of his business.

Atsumu watched as the guy in question picked up his phone, taking a call.

“Yeah…the date finished…yeah…not gonna lie though, she was kind of a stuck up bitch”

Atsumu scoffed and turned to tell the guy off, but before he could say anything the bathroom door swung open.

“At least I’m not a lazy asshole”, Y/n stepped out, looked at her date, and rolled her eyes. She flipped the guy off and walked right out the door.

Atsumu burst out laughing as the door slammed shut.

“She beat ya to it ‘Tsumu”, Osamu piped in from the cashier.

“Shut up ‘Samu”

~

Ugh what a waste of time. You were currently trying to forget about the stupid date by having a self care night. The candles were lit. Face mask was on. Wine glass was filled. You were about to turn on that new rom com movie that came out when your phone buzzed.

Mom:

I heard from Haru. You called him an asshole?? Y/n I can’t believe this

Lovely Daughter:

he called me a bitch first

Mom:

Okay fine we’ll just think of it as a test run but please try and be on your best behavior next week.

Lovely Daughter:

Next week?

Mom:

I ran into Rika at the farmers market and she told me her son is single. I already sent him the address to Onigiri Miya. You’ll meet him there next Sunday at 11.

Lovely Daughter:

!!!

You put your phone down. That was faster than you’d expected, but actually this worked in your favor. So the first date didn’t go so well, but that’s okay. This guy had just been especially bad, not to mention the banana head jerk who kept interfering. You sipped your drink with a sly smile. Next week you’d conquer romance for sure.

[nelllraiser]

the littlest pet swap | darwin & nell

TIMING: during the waking world potw (aka wonky magic times). LOCATION: the street outside darwin’s apartment + darwin’s apartment. PARTIES: @asranism & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: a summoning gone wrong provides ample confusion for both darwin and nell, but mostly a lot of yelling in the street.

The sun had long slipped below the horizon as Nell opened the gate to one of the swankiest dog parks in town, though her slight form wasn’t accompanied by a canine of any sort. In fact, she looked entirely alone, a singled out figure in the low light of the street lamps while she opened the chain link gate of the park, satisfied with the emptiness of the enclosure. On nights like tonight she liked to make her way here, far after any other owners and dogs had abandoned the park so that her own ‘dogs’ could have as much fun as they liked without her needing to fear of the ruckus they might make should anyone catch sight of three hellhounds playing a game of fire tag, maws alight with flame as they chased after one another and playfully singed at each others fur. Raising her thumb to her teeth, she bit it until it bled, reopening a scab on it that had yet to heal from the last summoning of the hellhounds she’d performed. In a quick motion, she swiped the offering over the tattooed summoning sigil on her arm, a piece of magic she’d designed as a specific shortcut that would bring forth the demons she’d befriended some years ago. Except as the magic swelled and then ebbed, it wasn’t three hellhounds that stood before her but...something much smaller than she’d been expecting and- was it wearing a tuxedo? “Ah- hello,” Nell spoke to the mysterious demon with bewilderment, wondering where the hell her dogs were. “You’re not who I was expecting.” Had the unpredictability of her magic bled into this as well? 

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Nell, a hellhound materialized in the middle of a strange and unfamiliar kitchen, and the young demon known to the witch as ‘Scrappy’ instantly began to growl at anything that dared to move within his vicinity. And perhaps the most concerning thing within his vicinity was a man foreign to him. Instinct was quick to take hold as his hackles rose, and it only took a small second before he was advancing on the man, a loud and threatening bark showing razor-sharp teeth as he wordlessly demanded to know what it was the interloper had done with his mistress. 

Afternoon naps have never been a thing for Darwin Asrani, formerly the heir to the Asrani family business of subjugating demons for a quick buck, but things change, they always do, with his own escape and self-imposed exile from Asrani family dinners a testament of how the outgoing but sarcastic charmer isn't afraid to welcome change. Oh, how that statement is going to bite him in the ass in a few seconds. That, and something else. While Darwin was fast asleep, knocked out but comfortably so, deep in a dream of a better present where he wasn't running around, going after his family's mistakes, correcting them like he was responsible for their terrible choices in life, which he clearly wasn't, his tiny demon butler Bertrand was in the kitchen preparing its master his evening alcohol. Bertrand is of course Darwin's most loyal summon, a strange little demon who had a thing for wearing butler clothes, which in this context is a pretty charming tuxedo, and for some strange reason taking care of its summoner like the “Alfred” to Darwin's less gloomy and more fabulous Batman. Unfortunately for the two of them, that evening alcohol would not come to be, as something else stirred nearby, and soon Bertrand disappeared from where he stood, summoned elsewhere, while in his place a more terrifying and less clothed demonic entity stood growling at everything and anything.

"Bertrand, where the hell is my morning cock..." Darwin groggily walked into the kitchen, having finally awoken, in a sour mood after his fantasy was revealed to be nothing more than just that, a fantasy, not the actual reality of his own making. If he didn't have his sense of morality, the disgusting piece of him he liked to hide behind drapings of sarcasm and veils of flirting, he would have remained with his family, making a quick buck at the expense of other sentient creatures. It would have been an easy life, yet even as he made his way to where Bertrand should have been, he could not fully accept that option. Demons are scary, sure, and they are capable of damning things. But demons still have their own will. For another to bend that will to their own desires... Darwin could never accept that. Although, he would have considered the option as he gulped at the sight of not Bertrand in his kitchen, no, but a hellhound that looked like it didn't want to be there. At least they had something in common. "...tail?"

Everything happened so fast. Before Darwin could summon his own senses to return to him, his mind to conjure a plan or strategy of defensive measures, the hostile creature was upon him, chasing him out of his own apartment and into the cold dark night. Darwin could do nothing else but run, screaming, as the thought of his bits and pieces getting bitten to shreds was not something he wanted to come to pass. Fortunately for him, as the chase continued into the nearby dog park, he found Bertrand standing with lovesick eyes directed towards another, a woman with textbook attractiveness. Another spellcaster? "Bertrand! Quickly, rein in this monstrosity after me! I'm not wearing anything under my robe!"

“Hello?” Nell repeated to the newly appeared demon as it simply stood there, apparently transfixed on the young woman before him. Maybe he was in shock? She’d witnessed a few demons who experienced cases of confusion after being unexpectedly Summoned. After all, it was certainly jarring to be one place one moment and somewhere entirely else in the next. “Sorry- I didn’t actually mean to summon you here. Were you doing something important? I can send you back to wherever you needed to-” 

Her sentence was cut short as a panicked sound cut through the air, and it took the witch a long second to make sense of the words. Bertrand? Who the hell was Bertrand? And what monstrosity was the guy speaking of? “Oh shit,” Nell uttered as Scrappy tore after the man and his delicately robed state, flames licking the corner of the hellhound’s mouth as he barked and sprinted in hot pursuit. In an instant, Nell was tearing after the hellhound’s victim and the dog in question, her strides fast as she left the unfamiliar demon behind. “Scrappy! Scrappy, don’t! It’s okay!” The poor pup was no doubt startled, having shown up in a stranger’s presence with no familiar face in sight. “Scrappy come back! I’m right here! I’ve got fingers!” she yelled as she continued to run, referencing the emergency supply of human fingers she kept as treats for her assorted demonic creatures in her pocket. The hellhound seemed to hesitate for a split second, his pursuit of the man slowing at the mention of food. As a precaution, he tried to herd the man into a corner, gnashing his teeth and growling all the way as he made his attempts.

Well, Bertrand certainly took his time. Even though Darwin was sure that he emphasized his immediate concerns regarding his endangered bits and pieces, the supposedly loyal demonic butler seemed to wait a minute or more before dashing to its master’s safety. They were going to have a talk about that later, much later, when Darwin was once again certain that his own bits and pieces were 100% safe. Bertrand is going to have a lot of explaining to do, though technically it’ll probably only take a mere mention before they both forget about it. It wasn’t like Darwin actually required a butler, and Bertrand, in its defense, was doing the whole schtick out of love and nothing else. It was a strange relationship but it was the only one Darwin was comfortable in trusting.

“Bertraaaaaand!” Darwin yelled again, as quietly as he could, which was a bit of a hilarious contradiction, even as the tiny demon ran to his aid. The other human was already doing her best to keep the hellhound away from Darwin’s precious jewels, which made him think that it was most likely her own Bertrand. “Is this your...pet?” Darwin immediately hated that word. Pet. Demons weren’t meant to be pets. They were meant to be respected as the intellectual and ancient beings that they were and— Oh, my god, it’s about to burn my bits and pieces! 

“I’m not sure what happened, but I found your Scrappy instead of my Bertrand in my current place of residence.” He gulped, backed into a corner, and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Bertrand finally making its way to his defense from the corner of his eyes. “Bertrand! Oh, dear god (ironic, he knows), I’m glad you’re safe! What happened? Why are you out here? Who’s that with you? And for the love of all that’s good and sexy, can YOU please not feed your Scrappy my fingers?! I need them...for stuff.” Darwin fired the series of questions in quick succession, still barely awake to actually make a coherent plan of defense, having just woken up from his afternoon nap, though it was already late at night, and violently at that.

Bertrand just stood there itself, a little panicked, shifting its gaze from Darwin to Nell and then to the hellhound, unsure of what to do. On one hand, Bertrand needed to save Darwin. On the other, it wasn’t quite sure if Nell would appreciate if it tried to fight Scrappy. Besides, Bertrand still had hope in his tiny demon heart that the other human could rein in their own friend. The last thing it wanted was to start another demon-on-demon violence. That was certainly not part of their current deal.

“Scrappy!” Nell continued on with her authoritative tone when it came to making the hellhound stand down. “Scrappy, it’s alright, really.” Much of this particular hellhound’s aggression was actually caused by anxiety and fear, and a need to appear as fierce as possible in the face of a potential threat. The demonic dog finally seemed to pause its attack, though his teeth were still bared, not quite ready to let Darwin forget he was a threat. “Scrappy is…” Nell hesitated with an answer to Darwin’s question, also disliking the title of ‘pet’ when it came to the creatures she looked after. If it came to it, she’d use the word ‘pet’ as a cover, not needing normal humans asking strange questions about the less than usual animals that surrounded her. But as the witch’s gaze flickered from the other, smaller demon, and the man in front of her calling him ‘Bertrand’ with a voice that betrayed familiarity, it wasn’t hard to guess that she was being faced with another spellcaster. “I take care of him, and he helps take care of me when I ask him to,” she said truthfully, rolling up a sleeve to show the summoning tattoo that she’d gotten for the hellhounds, making it easier to Summon them at the drop of a hat. It was inked over the extreme scarring of her arms, the skin of them appearing mottled like a patchwork of flesh. 

“And this is Bertrand?” Nell asked curiously, giving the little demon another friendly look. “Does he...speak? I tried talking to him before you ran out here, but he didn’t seem to have much to say.” With a gentle eyeroll, Nell crossed her arms over her chest before digging into her pocket. Scrappy, sensing a treat nearby, finally sat calmly at her feet. “I’m not gonna feed him your fingers. And I’m Nell, who are you? Do you always yell about your bits in the streets?” she decided to jibe playfully. But she was uncertain if the lightness would last. If this man was, indeed, another spellcaster— there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have heard news about the three sisters banned from their coven for necromancy and demon summoning, Nell being one of those three. Witch society was generally less than forgiving when it came to raising the dead, but perhaps he hadn’t heard, or perhaps she’d dodged that conversation by not providing her full name. Finally, she leaned forward to offer Scrappy a very human finger, and the dog eagerly gobbled the treat before sitting properly once again.

Darwin looked her over as she explained herself, mostly just her relationship with the hellhound Scrappy, as he wrapped his robe tighter around him in an attempt to stay warm out in the cold embrace of the night. He was now feeling a bit calmer with Bertrand finally standing beside him while the woman reined in her own companion. It didn't take long to dawn on Darwin how familiar the other spellcaster's relationship with Scrappy seemed with his own with Bertrand. Although Bertrand took a liking to acting and looking like the former Asrani family heir's butler, Darwin himself never really saw their relationship as master and familiar. Bertrand took care of him, even saved his life at one point, and for that, he will forever be grateful. It was most likely that very reason why he could not take to the demon as lesser than himself. Darwin owed Bertrand more than he'll ever care to admit, if only attempt to show through quieter actions. Like sharing pizza and interacting with him like he would any other. To be honest, Darwin probably treated Bertrand better than he did most humans. Without Bertrand, there would be no Darwin to this day.

He instinctively raised an eyebrow when the woman showed him her tattoo, dark brown eyes immediately trying to make sense of the handiwork as if there would be something more hidden beneath what they could see. Darwin thought of showing her his own tattoo but wasn't quite sure if that would be a good idea. The placement was, after all, somewhere more intimate and they were currently outside. Although he was certain that appearing to expose himself to another would be less offensive than having demonic entities prancing around in public, that didn't make him any less wary about that scenario. Thankfully, the woman's curiosity saved him, like the school bell to his hapless problematic student. "Yes, this handsome fellow's name is Bertrand." He turned to the tiny demon with a smile, both born of pride and affection. "Bertrand's my most loyal friend, though he often speaks only through the mind, which I suppose he reserves with known friends, those whose names and consent have been shared with him."

Bertrand himself turned to Darwin, and when their eyes met, nodded with a smile on his face. That moment was quickly ruined when Nell mentioned him yelling about his bits in the streets. While Bertrand was quick to hide his amusement, Darwin feigned a cough as he tried to hide his bits and pieces within his robe, which was barely doing a great job. "Well, you would, too, if you had just awoken from your drunken stupor, only to find an aggressive hellhound in your kitchen instead of your most trusted friend, and then get chased by that same hellhound into the night..." It was certainly an odd choice to summon a hellhound outside, but Darwin was yet to become familiar with this strange place, with its strange love for mimes and stranger disappearances, so who was he to know what was odd and what wasn't in White Crest? One thing he knew for certain, however, was that his bits and pieces were getting cold. "...I am Darwin, and I don't know about you, Nell, but I'd like to keep my bits and pieces warm. My place is, well, you probably already know. Feel free to follow me inside. I rarely have any company, so it might be a little too gloomy, but I just woke up, and I will most likely be up for a few more hours, so feel free to join me and my gloomy company where it'll at least be warm and our friends safe from..." He looked around them, an eyebrow raised, both emphasizing his point and making sure no one was eavesdropping on them. "...curious eyes."

With a nod to her and another to Bertrand, Darwin began to walk away, back inside his place. Bertrand himself waited on Nell and Scrappy with a wide smile, exactly like a butler waiting to usher in his master's guests. The sheer size of that grin would reveal to anyone how much Bertrand wanted to have guests and how few they ever got any. Of course, with a demonic butler and a host that had just arrived in town, the strange pairing wouldn't find it easy to have guests. This was a strange new town for them, and they were a strange new addition to the rest of the town. Besides, Darwin wasn't here to make new friends, but he was at least certain that the other spellcaster would not be his quarry. Perhaps, she would even be of great help to him and his cause.  

He had to know what the tattoo was based on his reaction as well as what it meant she was, and Nell wasted no time in pressing the matter of his own identity. “So you’re a spellcaster then, right?” There was a flicker of tentative hope in her words as she asked them, eager to meet another magic user that wasn’t a part of the coven she’d been banished from. Of course, there was no guarantee that news of her and her sisters' excommunication hadn’t reached other corners of witch society, along with the magic they’d done. Obviously demons most likely wouldn’t be a problem with this man, seeing as he had one accompanying him as well, but necromancy was a whole other can of worms, and one that was also heavily feared and frowned upon within magical circles. Not to mention there was the fact that Nell often utilized blood magic, another practice that was most often met with harsh judgement and heavy reservations when others heard she used it. For the moment being, she wouldn’t mention it.

Instead, she decided to say hello to Betrand once more now that she knew his name. “Hello, Bertrand,” she offered a proper greeting with a smile and small nod of her head. “It’s nice to actually meet you. And sorry for summoning you unexpectedly,” she apologized again, knowing it must have been confusing to find himself somewhere new and unexplained.” It was interesting that he preferred to speak mentally, and though Nell was very much wanting to speak with the little guy, she wasn’t quite so sure how she felt about letting him into her mind just yet. With her general desire to keep the inner-workings of her head private, and the consistent mind breaches she was courtesy of Ma’al’s demon cult...she had little desire to forfeit the scarce safety she had in her mind at the moment. But maybe the future would grant her the pleasure of having conversation with Bertrand, one way or another. “And hello Darwin,” she offered with another wry grin.

“I don’t know,” Nell began, once again adopting her teasing tone. “I think I’d be pretty excited to find a hellhound in my kitchen. A gift, really. Probably not running around like a madman while yelling about my bits and pieces and then still talking about them once everything had calmed down.” There was a mischievous sparkle in her eye that told of the levity in her words, no actual intent to harm behind them. She didn’t hesitate to follow behind him as he led the way into his dwellings, tilting her head to the side as she took in the practicality of the place. “How long have you lived here?” she questioned, curious as to how she’d missed another spellcaster that worked with demons. After all, they weren’t exactly common. Nell wasn’t entirely sure how to react to Bertrand acting as butler, feeling a little out of place as the demon flitted about. It felt...strange to use a demon as someone to wait on you, but for all appearances it looked as if the demon was enjoying his job, possibly even thriving as he did his work. If Bertrand liked what he did, who was she to question it? 

"Hmm?" The question didn't really surprise Darwin, as it would be pretty obvious to both of them that they shared at least an inkling of what the other was. Both of them had their respective demonic "partners", for a lack of a better term, and he just assumed that she, with that tattoo, was like him, if not better. She looked better, was better, because at the very least, she didn't just wake up, only to run away from a hellhound in just her robe. Speaking of robes, he wrapped his own tighter against himself, wary that his bits and pieces would be unintentionally exposed. He wasn't entirely into her, and all women for that matter, but it was still a matter of maintaining decency, the strange man in only a robe thought. "Just like you. Always good to find common ground with someone new..."

Bertrand simply smiled at Nell with an innocent, friendly sort of grin, the kind no one who wasn't well-versed with demons and their ilk would expect from such a creature. Yet so much would catch people by surprise, just by the fact alone that demons were as complex as humans, perhaps even more so. They were an ancient race, after all, and most knowledge about them barely scratched the surface. Type-casting didn't help. Darwin himself couldn't help but smile at her remark, her teasing, finding it a welcomed respite from the loneliness of having little to no other consistent human interaction, from Bertrand always saying yes and yes only to everything and anything. "That's fair. I did grow up with a hellhound. Sally. She was nice." Again, he tightened his robes against his skin. "Not long. We've just moved here." He answered without look back to her, already making his way to the makeshift bar in his living room. Bertrand, like the good and trustworthy self-appointed butler that they were, waited for Nell to get in before following after her and closing the door behind them.

Darwin was already preparing himself a drink when Bertrand appeared completely appalled at the vision of their master doing something for himself, while they were around. The demon wrangler, however, found their instinctive reaction as well as the horrified look on their tiny demon face somewhat amusing, waving Bertrand back to let them know he's fine with doing it himself. He pretty much didn't need Bertrand to wait on him every damn time but it was the demon's strange wish, a really confusing hobby that Darwin himself has yet to fully understand. He owed him his life, though, so he could never deny Bertrand whatever they wanted. Finally settled on a cocktail, a concoction of two different rums, a cherry brandy, a diet Coke, and Maraschino cherries, Darwin turned to Nell from behind the counter, grinning from ear to ear as he took a sip of his glass and offered her her own. "Bertrand doesn't drink." He raised an eyebrow, turning to the demon who grinned back, before continuing with a classic gender-based assumption that he didn’t wholly believe but thought was a pretty decent jumping point. "Tell me about yourself and your...coven. You're a witch, aren't you?" 

As Darwin confirmed the fact that he had magical abilities, Nell’s grin grew wider and more genuine, once again filled with hope at the prospect of having found a new spellcaster to take into her life. She had friends, of course. People she loved. And her sisters still knew what it was to wield magic. But to have a friend that was a spellcaster in her life again? That was something she’d missed more than she’d realized. Nell knew she was getting ahead of herself. After all, they’d barely even made one another’s acquaintance, but she couldn’t help the spark of hope that had lighted in her soul, nearly desperate to find someone like her that wouldn’t hate her. Just as quickly as the hope had blossomed, she watched it with a careful eye, trying to dampen it in the next moment as she reminded herself that she still didn’t know if he’d recognize her full name should she ever give, along with the ‘crimes’ attached to it. Still...she couldn’t help the excitement in her voice as she echoed, “Just like me. A Summoner and everything! Do you mostly do Summoning, then?” she asked, already burning with questions. 

Nell didn’t hesitate to return Betrand’s smile, and at the mention of a hellhound Scrappy whined from his place at Nell’s feet where he’d finally settled. To have a demon as part of the family in a household? Her mother and coven would have balked at the idea. “Really? All of your family likes demons, then?” It was a novel idea, and a reality she’d never thought to imagine based off most casters’ reactions to demons. “Oh- well, welcome to White Crest,” Nell offered with half the enthusiasm she’d had when asking about the hellhound. “You’ll find it’s...a very unique place the longer you’re here. And pretty fucking dangerous so just- watch you back, I guess.” It was only fair to warn the man what he was getting into. 

The witch accepted the drink with a quick, “Thank you” before taking a sip, and then promptly popping one of the cherries into her mouth. “Good for Bertrand,” Nell said with a chuckle. “Very responsible of him.” But the mention of a coven was quick to tense her shoulders along with her mouth. She should have expected it. How many times had she been told that a witch without a coven was barely anything at all? So of course another spellcaster would ask where her’s was. Nell opted to answer the simpler of the two questions first. “That’s me- a witch.” Her former excitement had waned, already dreading where this conversation might go. “And you’re…? Well- what do you call yourself?” Witch was generally thought of as a woman’s word in pop and normie culture, but she’d met plenty of men who went by the title as well. Now for the rest of her answer. “I don’t have a coven.” Anymore. She carefully opted to leave off the end of that reply, unwilling to ostracize herself so quickly. “There’s one in town, though. Mostly fire elementals.” It was her own former coven, and the very same one her mother had banished her from. “What about you? What about your coven?” Maybe she could turn the rides away from herself into his direction instead.

"Yeah, sure, mostly Summoning..." Darwin offered her a warm smile and a wink before taking another sip of his drink. Although he didn't feel like there was something about her that made her a little difficult trust, something suspicious, anything suspicious, the well-traveled demon wrangler had learned from his past experiences to keep unnecessary additional information from newly made acquaintances. At least at this point, he believed it was the right thing to do. "You could say that. We're all in the...business." He unintentionally turned to Bertrand, as if apologizing for the terms he used. Darwin had never wanted to be associated with the Asrani family name again, their savage and brutal business of wrangling demons and twisting them mentally to suit their financial needs, but he had yet to share who they were truly by name and he could still, in his head, pretend that he was from a better version of his own family. 

The momentary loss in thought, however, not to mention the more serious expression that possessed his face, might have hinted to the girl that there was more to his story, bits and pieces he'd rather not share for now, but he immediately tried to ensure to keep the conversation moving elsewhere. If it could even be a suitable distraction. "Thank you. So far, it's been, as you say, unique. I'll keep that in mind, though." At the sound of their name, Bertrand grinned before offering Darwin a quick bow and disappearing into the shadows. Truth be told, their makeshift master had no idea where they disappeared to whenever they were out of his sight, but Darwin would trust Bertrand with his life, as Bertrand themselves had been the only one responsible for extending it. 

"I fancy myself a demon wrangler. I seek out the more dangerous demons let loose by careless mages, intentionally or otherwise, rounding them up and settling them safely back home, wherever they believe that is." Throughout his explanation, his dark brown eyes maneuvered themselves onto the hellhound with her. Scrappy, wasn't it? The creature didn't seem like it was brought here against its will. In fact, it actually looked like it was enjoying the woman's company. Darwin grinned at that thought. "Well, isn't that another thing we have in common?" Darwin gave her a nod and ushered her towards the living room, sitting at the sofa, the unexpectedly lavish couch that took the middle of the room as its own. With another sip, he gestured for her to sit with him before continuing. "I'm not much of a coven kind of guy. I find them...stifling at times, suffocating even. I highly value my independence, though..." He gestured around himself, around them, emphasizing the loneliness of his place. "...it'd be nice to have some company every once in a while." 

For a moment or two, as their eyes met, Darwin considered poking around in Nell's head, wondering if she was hiding certain truths that he needed to know, if he should just take them for herself. It could be easy. She already had a drink in her hands. But then he got bored of pretending he was his damned father. He could never understand how that old bastard would ever think that was a good option, especially on his own son. What a fucking asshole. He heaved a sigh, mustered a weak smile, and took another sip of his drink.

His wink paired with the tone of voice and phrasing he’d used did little to assure Nell that Summoning was the only magic that Darwin did. It seemed that he was more inclined to withhold whatever other magic he was employing, and for a split moment she wondered if it might be blood magic. Perhaps the taboo nature of it was why Darwin was keeping the practice to himself. A year or so ago, Nell would have hesitated to ask, unwilling to reveal that she too was a practitioner of the questionable magic. But the year since then had taught her that if she were going to lose people for things she wouldn’t apologize for- it was easier to do so earlier in a relationship, to be cut loose before she got in too deep and their rejection would sting all the more. Beyond that she’d also learned that the bigger threat someone thought she might pose... the better. Perhaps if she’d been louder about her abilities, half the people that had tried to interfere in her life wouldn’t have done so in the first place. So it was with a straight back and almost daring air about herself that she said, “I also do blood magic.” Nell watched him for a long moment after that, looking for the familiar flicker of distaste of wariness that came over other spellcasters when she mentioned the discipline. 

A demon wrangler made sense based off the way he’d spoken of the otherworldly creatures, and the company he kept with Bertrand. Nell had done her own fair share of recollecting demons that were places they shouldn’t be. “That’s good. And trust me there’s plenty of demons to wrangle around here. Just a few months ago some highschoolers accidentally summoned Bloody Mary. Obviously she’s not a demon but- you get the idea.” Nell refrained from mentioning that two of the teens had died in the process of that entire ordeal. No doubt Darwin was well aware of the casualties that were practically guaranteed when inexperienced practitioners tried to Summon. “You don’t have a coven?” Nell asked again, her curiosity once again piqued. “You’re right about the rules, though. The one I mentioned before has banned any sort of demon summoning.” It had been part of the reason she’d been exiled, though only a fraction of it. 

Taking another sip of the drink he’d given her, Nell gave a half-grin at the mention of company, hiding the eagerness she was feeling at having found a spellcaster who wasn’t forbidden from speaking to her, and also wasn’t her sister. “Well if you keep making me drinks- I might be able to provide an answer to the occasional company problem you’re running into.” She still had so much to ask Darwin, but a whine from underneath the table told Nell that Scrappy was getting antsy, still not entirely comfortable with being in the presence of a stranger and his demon. “I should go take care of this boy, though,” she said before leaning down to give the hellhound a pat. “He’s not really good with company- which I’m sure you figured out when he was trying to bit your ‘bits and pieces’ off.” Her tease was accompanied by another grin, obviously taking amusement in using the phrase against him. “But maybe I could bring one of the more confident hellhounds by another time.”

Darwin almost choked on his drink when she revealed the other kind of magic she did. Hailing from a family of mental magic practitioners, which really never ends well when shared with a new acquaintance because humans have always been a paranoid lot, the demon wrangler had strangely little to no experience with actual blood magic and its practitioners. There was that one girl he befriended, the young single mother, but it was a disheartening affair, one that proved to be more dangerous to herself and to the ones around her. Right then and there, Darwin wondered if the same could be said for Nell. How lonely it must be then, and how painful, that one's magic can punish a practitioner beyond the rules of equivalent exchange. Then again, it must be the only appropriate rule for something as dangerous and painful as blood magic. Darwin took another sip of his drink to regain his composure. "That's interesting. I knew a girl who did that, too. She was...admirable."

"Bloody Mary? Really? High Schoolers?" Darwin shook his head, distancing his lips from the glass as they twisted into a playful smirk born out of disbelief that such young children could be capable of summoning bloody Bloody Mary but at the same time impressed of the act. He was also young when he started Summoning, though he focused mostly on smaller demons first. Then again, he was around their age, if he recalled correctly, when he first summoned a demon the size of a human, not unlike Bloody Mary herself in terms of height and number of limbs, though his was more fueled by lust than violent murder. That was also actually when he first realized he preferred men over women. "Did any of them survive?" His smile turned into a frown when he remembered the truth of the matter. Just because you can actually Summon, just because you got lucky in actually drawing someone else, something else, from their world to this one, doesn't mean what happens next will be harmless, profitable for you. Often, the novice, the inexperienced, dies from the ordeal or during the aftermath due to lack of assertion or impression. No one enjoys an unscheduled appearance, without their consent, in a lesser world.

Darwin simply shook his head at the question relating to his coven, the thought of his own family being akin to that to him...until his father tried to bend him, his mind, to their twisted capitalist bullshit. "Ah, but of course. Demon summoning and witchcraft don't always go hand in hand. Either often prefer to be focused on, unable to share their practitioners with one another." At this point, he was just blowing wind up his own ass. He didn't actually know if that bit was true, only that it made sense to him to be so. His grin returned at her tease, or at least what he perceived to be a tease, longer than before. Even though Darwin had his own preferences when it came to carnal pleasures, he enjoyed flirting, teasing, the art and science of which, most likely because it helped boost his ego, his confidence, in ways that he never could growing up, alone, without the familial support he subconsciously craved. 

"Of course, my love! Feel free to visit any time. Bertrand and I will always enjoy your company and that of your hellhounds." He offered her a grin as he stood, careful not to expose her to his bits and pieces, like the gentleman host that he believed himself to be. Gesturing towards the door, which Bertrand who just appeared from out of nowhere was quick to open, Darwin accompanied his lovely guest on her way out. He could've actually walked her home but it was getting too cold for his bits and pieces, and he was slowly getting too drunk. He did turn to Bertrand, though, and nodded, a gesture that meant the self-appointed butler would follow the witch back to her abode to simply ensure her safety. Not that Darwin believed she couldn't take care of herself, what with the blood magic and the hellhound at her arsenal. It was more like a routine that he half-remembered from his past before he had to escape, flee, a reminder his late mother always told him: Take care of friends and family, even if they never want you to. Well, Darwin was out of family, and Nell was the first friend he'd made in town. Might as well.

Nell waited with a steely gaze for Darwin’s verdict, ready to write off this newfound and tentative friendship here and now if he reacted negatively when it came to her blood magic. She didn’t need anymore people in her life that would leave her down the road, but it seemed that paranoia had been misplaced when he spoke of admiration. “She was?” Nell echoed, as if confirming she’d heard correctly. Obviously she had, and the thought filled her with another spark of tentative hope. “I’m sure she was, then. Admirable, I mean.” 

As for the highschoolers…”Just one,” Nell answered grimly, still holding some residual guilt for having been unable to save the entire lot of them. “Two of them died in the process, including the one who had the ability to Summon in the first place. I don’t think he knew, though- that he held the magic. He didn’t make a proper sacrifice and- well- the Summoning decided it wanted more. I’m sure you understand.” None of them were free of the chains of equivalent exchange, and sometimes the jailers demanded entire lives as a means of paying the price. 

But as Scrappy whined once again, Nell knew he was reaching his limit of being indoors and stationary, and in the presence of a man he’d chased down the street and was still not entirely certain of. “I really am sorry I have to go- there’s a ton more I wanted to ask. But I’ll probably also just message you once I’m home on the White Crest forum thing, and we can pick up where we left off. But I mean it about the drinks,” she reiterated with a grin, still wishful that this budding friendship might be a lasting one. “So be prepared for me to bother you about that within 2-5 business days.” Gathering up Scrappy, she made her way towards the door, giving Bertrand a nod of goodbye as well, not yet realizing that he’d be trailing her on the way home. “And I’ll see you, as well I hope.” With that she was making her way out of his apartment and onto the street, below, pausing with a small smile on her lips to let herself bask in the potential promise of another spellcaster in her life that didn’t hate her guts. Even though she still wasn’t sure how the demon mixup had occurred, that worry could be kept at bay for the moment being with the knowledge that she’d started something new out of it.