#so PT Rats have sleeves now apparently

[smalltimidbean]

What the rat doin'?

[slothcapsule]

Kaeya's design pt.2 (updated until 5.1 because yes, more stuff gets added with updates, his design is that thought ahead)

or maybe im delusional and looking into things way too much! heyy, Me again!! this is gonna be a master post of all the things ive noticed about kaeya's design, ive made one like it before but since then there's been a bunch of new stuff so i decided to make a new post that has everything i have to note. this is complied of things i myself have noticed and things that others have. this post will not include anything about his skin other than noting a couple of significant differences since the outfit wasn't made specifically for him in the scope of the story, but i might cover it in a separate post

kaeya's design mostly consists of "two sides" in a way, his "mondstat" side and his "khaenri'ah" side.

his mondstadt side includes his vision, the full side of his cape in the back, the earring he wears and his rat tail, all this represents the freedom he has in mondstat and the person he grew to be there, a vision bearing knight of favonius.

the khaenri'ah side includes his eyepatch, the wisp of lighter hair in his bang, a clipped cape ("wing") and the majority of the fur coating. i believe this goes to represent that he's still tied to khaenri'ah despite all the time he's spent in mondstadt, and that he's quite aware of it. Also, the glove on that side has a kind of buckle that kind of reminds me of a shackle or a handcuff, as well as this thing with a bunch of eight pointed stars that are not apparent on the mondstadt

all across his design (the boots, corset belt, gloves, little things on the ends of the cape thing he has, his left sleeve) there are bunch of "eight pointed" stars we see associated with khaenri'ah, one being in his pupil which was a confirmed trait to khaenri'ahn people ever since we saw dainsleif.

id like to note that kaeya's eyepatch is stressed on a lot in game. its constantly referred back to most of the time when kaeya is brought up. he has a voiceline about it (that has been changed once in the english version to to a mistranslation i believe, ill include both versions) the first is the current version.

traveler has a voiceline about it where paimon makes fun of it but i think its notable there's a voiceline specifically about it at all.

its mentioned right when we start the world quest "Bough Keeper" where we meet dainsleif. he doesn't even have an eyepatch half of his face is just black it was a stretch in the first place.

kaeya himself dismisses it as nothing unusual.

in his story quest he says he inherited it from his grandfather, which is solid proof that they're related by blood. (his story quest has some crazy foreshadowing btw that predicted that him and the abyss twin are possibly related in some way or another by extensions but i wont get into it here)

there isnt really a solid idea attached to any of this, other than the fact that kaeya's eyepatch is stressed on as a point of intrigue, its pretty implied to be related to his origin of khaenri'ah, and we often see khaenri'hn people with their right eye covered in some way. and to those of you that think that he wears the eyepatch because diluc injured his eye during his fight, no he isnt. it might've been scarred by him yes but he isnt blind in that eye, and in the webcomic it shows kaeya wearing an eyepatch on the day crepus died, before the fight with diluc.

while we're on the subject of his eyes, he's somewhat of an abnormality amongst Khaenri'ahn people. every other khaenri'ahn person we know have teal eyes with their pupil being a bold black star outline, kaeya's on the other hand are a darker blue with a more faded filled in star. i wont include the eyes of every single character to prove my point but trust me i looked at them all. the only exception seems to be pierro but since he doesnt have an in-game model yet and he wasnt shown super clearly in the trailer im unsure what to make of it for now so i wont include it.

one of the first things generally noticed about kaeya's design once you look into it a little is that he somewhat resembles cryo abyss mages, most notably the fur coat he keeps thrown over his shoulder, the "bunny ears" in his hair (ahoge?) but most of the resemblance comes from playstyle.

in playstyle he's similar in the sense that he teleports on his fifth attack, his ult is similar to the icicles they produce after their shield is broken, he produces his own shield at c4 etc.

(EDIT: i somehow forgot including abyss heralds here, which is insane of me considering that i was always under the impression that if kaeya does turn out to be an abyss monster its definitely more likely to be a herald/lector. i dont necessarily think that he is but there are similarities!)

As for abyss heralds, he does also have a similar design element with the Frost Fall one! Despite being a minor similarity i think its worth pointing out , but they do have kind of similar lapel things, the herald has those wing like things both in the front and back , similar to kaeya's "clipped" wings, that appear under the full wing and in the front of his outfit as well

(fun fact, when i found out they're going to release a cryo abyss herald i was so excited and kept prolonging the fight with it in the quest so i can see if it has similar attack patterns to kaeya) (it does, he does a couple slash attacks that look like kaeya's normal attacks)

one crazy thing also is his cape looks a lot like the top part of the celestial nails and the bottom part of the statues of the seven, and weirdly enough parts of paimons outfits.

a lot of people theorize the log in screen is the enterance to celestia, and that the nails in dragonspine and the chasm are fallen pillars from there. for someone from a godless nation its sort of weird that he seems to have that connection to something celestial huh? this part of the design is also included in his special dish in the skewer itself. (he also marks the mushroom with an eight pointed star as opposed to the x on the regular one)

other than celestian, mondstadtian, khaenri'ahn themes in his outfit, he also has fatui ones! on the front side of the cape we can see that it attaches to a fur thing that covers kaeya's lapels. i have no idea how this attaches or if its just thrown on top, but this design choice is distinctly fatui, weirdly enough. specifically in the style of the attire of the fatui harbingers coats or official ware when they're gathered. i related it distinctly to pierro before but after getting a good look at capitano's model its more fatui, though there's some things that are similar distinctly between kaeya and pierro.

most distinctly, the fur and the lapels being in a very similar shape which is the part that's distinctly fatui, the mask/eyepatch over the right eye as well a strikingly differently colored strand of hair being distinct to pierro and kaeya.

there's a kind of gap in the middle of pierro's chest part of the outfit that somewhat resembles the one kaeya has as well. i saw someone point this out on reddit but i cant find the post because it was a while ago but regardless, they brought up the point of it being exactly in the place and shape of where abyss heralds/black serprent knights have an eight-pointed star, which could be a subtle nudge at khaenri'ah as well.

now, i have two ideas of what those similarities could be hinting at.

kaeya is actually a fatui member (which i believe has some sort of merit because of the recent appearances of capitano and some similarties between them in attire and playstyle weirdly enough, as well as a theory ive been getting behind that states that capitano could be/is related to anfortas alberich)

the fatui harbinger design choices are actually inspired by khaenri'ah, which isnt a stretch given that pierro is the founder and director of the fatui harbingers. thus making them look similar to kaeya rather than vice versa.

panning back up a little bit, regarding the silver hair in kaeya, it seems to be expanding to the rest of his hair, in his skin it goes down the length of his braid.

in the webcomic where we flash back to the past a bit, we see kaeya actually doesnt have the little strand of silver over his left ear, as well as when we return to the normal time setting of the comic, its also not included in his icy featherflight splash art (this 100% could be a stretch on my part they could've just forgot about it its a small strand) (while we're talking about stretches, my biggest one is that childe has a similar streak in his hair lol but that might be going toooo far)

last but not least, his vision, one of the most interesting things about his whole characters. a person from a nation that actively defied the gods recieving a sign of their recognition seems like kind of a threat doesnt it? and its all the more ominous that his vision casing is different from every other mondstadt casing!

this is the back of kaeya's vision next to the back of diluc's vision for comparison, the only notable things are the lack of a third wing probably signifying he's sort of out of place, and the swirl? wave? whatever you wanna call it is on the wrong side. every other character with a double sided vision has the swirl on the other side like jean, diluc, mona, eula, lisa (etc..? i havent seen anyone else with a double sided vision which is also interesting, at least from mond)

however!! weirdly enough, in the 3.8 summer event where kaeya gets his skin, his vision actually gets a different casing, as you can see he gets his full three wings, as well as an extra spike! but not really an extra spike because the vision is just on top of another thing that makes it look like it has a third spike, but the wing is actually there. the genshin fashion archive isnt updated with kaeya's skin so i cant check if there's a swirl, even though the vision isnt even double sided in the skin which is also really weird to me.

im pretty sure ive covered most things, if anyone has any additions please let me know! id love to look into them.

i think kaeya is a really interesting character who's incredibly centered around foreshadowing in the way he carries himself and his backstory, so to think that they managed to extend the foreshadowing bit into even his design is a little bit insane imo.

[theunquenchablethirst]

Home Pt1: The Orphanage (Jeremiah X Reader)

First multi-chapter fic I’ve ever written, so critics please be gentle, but feedback is much appreciated. This chapter is just about introducing the reader to the story, but I do have more chapters ready to go out. Lemme know if you want them ☺️

Slow burn and mentions of childhood trauma/abuse

Find Pt.2 here

Reader is an orphan about to turn 18 when a wealthy man visits the orphanage looking for an older girl. She is put up as a possible option and she isn’t happy about it.

Masterlist

Growing up in the orphanage was horrible. They treated us all like workhorses from the moment we arrived. They would demand so much from us from such an early age and when we couldn’t do it, we would get beaten or starved or have to spend the night in the basement with the rats. If not all three. And then they wondered why we didn’t have the strength for all the hard labour they forced upon us.

They didn’t care about us one bit. They used to send us to clean rich people's houses to make money off us. I remember one girl got sent out and came back covered in bruises. She tried to tell them she didn’t want to go back, that the guy was a creep and he touched her. They still sent her and one day she just disappeared. We all knew what happened, but we didn’t dare say anything. We were the weak ones and in Gotham, nobody cares about the weak ones.

I remember praying every night for some nice couple to come and save me. Adopt me. But year after year passed and I learned to abandon those dreams. I’d read in the paper about some guy called Jerome Valeska. He’d murdered his mom. I also saw him when I’d been sent out on maid duty, on a client's TV when they were watching the news. He seemed unhinged, like a rabid dog, talking into the camera about sanity and how we were all just prisoners and cogs. He said was the leader of a gang called the Maniax. We’d all heard of them at the orphanage and what they’d done. I decided if that was what family could do to you, then maybe it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t like anyone was coming for me anyway.

Instead, I focused on counting the days to my 18th birthday. They kicked you out once you turned 18, but it was a time everyone in the orphanage looked forward to. I remember how excited I was when the time crawled ever closer. It was just a few weeks, but time seemed to slow down as they were passing. It was painful.

I had everything I was going to do planned out in my head. First, I was going to punch the head master square in the nose and tell him just how much I hated him. Then I was going to walk my ass straight to the GCPD and let them know everything. It was my chance get that place shut down forever. To help the other kids and get them sent somewhere decent. I would be stood out front watching the day it closed. Watching with the biggest, tooth baring smile on my face.

I still hate that I never got the chance.

My 18th was a few weeks away and I could taste my freedom. Everyone was hyping me up for it and some of the younger ones were telling me how much they were going to miss me and trying to spend as much time with me as they could. There were a few sour apples because they were jealous, but I understood and I would squeeze them all so tightly before I left.  

“Stop daydreaming and get back to the floor!” A harsh voice came and I was brought back to reality with a smack to the back of my head.

It was the head master's assistant, Mr Grimes. A name that suited him well. He was stalking the halls again, looking for the daydreamers like me so he could tear them down. I was supposed to be scrubbing the wooden floorboards, but I let my mind run away with me for a minute. I should’ve known better by then.

He got halfway down the hallway, trapsing dirt over where I’d just cleaned, when he stopped in his tracks and turned back to me.

“You’re up tomorrow, by the way.” He said, in that matter-of-fact tone that made everyone despise him that extra bit more.

“What?” I must’ve heard him wrong.

“You’re up. Some rich guy’s coming in looking for an older girl. That means you.”

“I can’t be. I’m getting out next month.”

“It’s right here in black and white. And you know I don’t make mistakes.” He gestured to the folder under his arm that had the details for tomorrow in it and apparently my name was listed inside.

I stopped to let the wheels in my head turn and try and figure this out. Being up meant that you were going to be presented for possible adoption. I couldn’t be... could I? Not now I was this close? Mr Grimes turned to leave, but turned back once more.

“By the way, says here this guy's 26. So, he’s probably not looking for a daughter. And if he’s coming here instead of some maid agency... Well, I'll let you think about that.”  

Mr Grimes smiled one of the slimiest smiles I’d ever seen before walking away. I knew what he meant and I also knew that nobody here cared. I threw the scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water, causing a splash. I was so angry. Angry that my plans could be potentially ruined, that I could be adopted by some rich guy with nefarious intentions, angry that they would let that happen to any of the girls here.

I allowed a few tears to escape my eyes, but quickly told myself off for it. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry for this place any longer years ago. It felt like giving it power or losing to it and I was not going to give this dump the satisfaction. I didn’t sleep at all that night. Knowing what tomorrow was going to bring sat on my shoulders like two boulders. I was either going to see one of my sisters be taken away to god knows what, or be taken myself. I hadn’t told anybody about it. I didn’t want anybody else feeling this dread.  

Morning came. The wakeup call was 7am sharp. Everyone stirred and groaned, but they knew they’d regret it if they didn’t get up with the bell. Now began the battle for the showers. First come, first serve for the hot water. If you were too slow you had to shower in water like ice. However, I wasn’t in the mood to battle it out for hot water. I would feel terrible if I got some and the girl that got adopted today didn’t, so I let them all have war without me. I was used to the cold water anyway.

Downstairs at breakfast I couldn’t eat. I felt like I had a pit in my stomach and if I ate anything I would just throw it back up. The food was disgusting anyway.  I sat there with a glass of water deep in thought until a bell rang that caught all of our attention. The only time that bell rang was when the head master was going to be joining us for breakfast, which was rare. But in he came and sat at the front in front of all of us, Mr Grimes standing at his side like a loyal dog. I knew why he was here. He was going to break the news.

“Good morning children.” He said in his dull, boring voice, looking over the room as if scanning it.

“Good morning, head master.” Everyone replied in unison. We knew the drill.

“I have an exciting announcement.”

Everyone was gripped. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Now, this does only concern the girls. Boys, perhaps next time.”

A few whispers could be heard as everyone looked around at each other.  

“There will be a man coming in later. A wealthy man. He is going to take one of you home.”

Smiles could be seen on my sisters faces and they continued to whisper to each other curiously.

“Unfortunately, not all of you are candidates. Mr Grimes has a list of everyone that is going to be presented. When he calls your name, you are to go back upstairs and change into your display clothes. We must make a good impression if we are to find homes, girls.”

Mr Grimes opened the folder he had with him yesterday and pulled out a piece of paper. All of my sisters were on the edges of their seats, biting their lips, fingers crossed. All of them hoping today could be the day. I was hoping for the exact opposite.

“Shelby... Lisa... Mary... Joanne... Bethany.... And...” Then he called my name. The girls smiles reached ear to ear and they giggled to themselves as they stood up. We were all the oldest girls, 17 or few months away.  

“Congratulations, girls. Today could be the start of a new life... for one of you.” The headmaster also rose from his seat and he left the room leaving Mr Grimes to finish.

“You girls, upstairs and make yourselves look half human. The rest of you, better luck next time.”

Back in our dorm all the girls were laughing and smiling. They were all so happy, getting their presentation clothes ready. They were all the same. The outfit we had to wear if we were up. A black skirt that reached just below the knees with a black, quarter sleeve shirt with a white collar. Our only pair of good, clean white socks and black plimsoles. We were all identical in these outfits, except for different things we would do with our hair. Some would do braids, some pony tails or buns. The lucky ones managed to scrounge up some cute clips and bows. It was all very exciting for everyone. Everyone, but me.

“I can’t believe it! One of us is getting out of this soggy shack!” Laughed Shelby.

“I know! I knew keeping that lucky penny was worth it!”  Mary giggled as she pulled a penny out of her shoe and kissed it.

“Whoever it is that goes, we’ll still always be sisters, right?” Joanne piped up. She had always had a nervous disposition.  

The girls all stopped. They were so giddy with the news that they forgot today was also goodbye for one of us. The sudden sadness in the air was palpable. I could see tears start to gather in their eyes and my heart broke.

“Stop it. Stop it all of you. No matter what happens today, we will all always be sisters. We’ve been through so much together that even if we are scattered to all corners of the globe, we’ll still all be sisters. Nothing can change that. Ever.” I forced, half scolding them. We huddled together and began saying how much we loved each other, going over memories we had. We stayed like that until the bell rang, letting us know we only had a little time left before the line-up.

We stood lined up by the front door. I’d never liked this bit. It felt like we were on display in a shop window. Like we were on sale.

“Is this the best you could do? I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t just walk away.” Mr Grimes scoffed as he looked us up and down. He was the one who was going to be introducing us. The head master stayed in his office, he only dealt with the paperwork of it.

“And don’t say anything, unless he talks to you. Nobody buys a cow for its personality.”  

We heard a car pull up outside and the nerves kicked in.

“Sounds like he’s here. Stand up straight, girls. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”

Then there it was. The sound I’d been dreading since yesterday afternoon.

Knock, knock, knock...

“Let the sale commence.”

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 5, Ch. 6

PART 5: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE FIGHTS Chapter 6 - The Quidditch Love Triangle

Charlie

After two weeks I gave up all hope that Nova and I would ever speak again. I tried talking to her every day and she always stormed away. I have never felt so bad about anything in my life. I didn't even care anymore that I had a crush on her, I just wanted my best friend back.

She even went so far that she asked Jae if Tulip could switch places with her in History of Magic and Transfiguration as she didn't want to sit with me. I was miserable and I hated myself because I know it was all my fault. Even Bill was surprised at this point and thought, like me, that we would already talk it out.

The stupidest thing was, that I don't even remember why I was so mad about the whole thing. I just knew I could say some mean things when I was angry.

I tried to bury myself in my studies but I was doing rather poorly. I now spent most of my time with either Jae, Bill, or Barnaby. I don't know what Nova told the girls but I thought Penny was going to transfigure me into a rat the other day. They were all furious. Mum wasn't wrong when she said that girls can be dangerous.

—

The only time I had any fun these days, was playing Quidditch. It cheered me up, knowing that we won't play against Ravenclaw until next year and that meant I wouldn't have to play against Nova. Our Captain forgave me for giving up the Snitch last year and was happier than ever when I supported his decision to have even more practice. The more I was on that pitch the better.

I now had Bill to help me study for my O.W.L.s. He spent so much time with me in the Library and while studying for N.E.W.T.s still found time to answer my every question if one came to mind.

Jae offered to talk to Tulip and Tonks to see what was going on and why is Nova so mad. I was pretty sure I had the answer to that question and I really appreciated the help but I didn't want anyone to interfere. I reckoned it would make Nova even madder if it was even possible.

I am not going to lie, I did think about Jae's offer. I was getting desperate. She was either with the girls or her Quidditch Team and no matter how hard I tried I never got her alone. In the end, Jae asked Tulip about it anyway and she told him that it's none of their business and we have to solve it on our own.

I knew that much, I was just running out of ways to talk to her or say sorry. I wrote her a letter a few times but never got a response. I spent more time than usual at her favorite places but she seemed to never be there.

To make matters worse I saw her eating lunch alone with McNully several times. I was mentally preparing myself to see them holding hands any day now.

—

The match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff was approaching fast. I was excited about it as it would be a rare occasion these days where I would see Nova not being mad. One thing I wasn't looking forward to was listening to McNully commentate on every single one of her moves. I hated knowing he was watching her.

I made my way to the pitch with Jae and Bill.

“Jae, thank you for going with us. I know Tulip asked you to go with her.” Jae still fancied Tulip and it looked like they were doing pretty good but these days nobody really hung out with anybody because of me and Nova. Jae insisted that the whole thing between us was rubbish and said that if Tulip can take Nova's side, he was going to stick with mine and I appreciated that very much. I knew he missed hanging out with her.

“Don't mention it, mate.” He smiled sincerely. “As I said, if they want to hold grudges against my best mate, then I don't want anything to do with them.”

“That's really nice of you, Jae.” Bill said and I agreed. Jae just shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal.

On our way up to the stands, we ran into Tulip, Tonks, and Penny.

“Hi.” Tulip said awkwardly and waved to Jae.

“Hi.” He said back with an official voice but I saw his cheeks turn pink.

Penny exhaled through her nose angrily and walked past us. Tulip and Tonks looked sad but followed her.

“You know what, this is mad!” I heard Tonks say and we all turned around.

“Do you mates want to sit with us to watch the game?” She asked.

“Tonks, what are you doing?” Penny frowned.

“Look, Penny, this is getting ridiculous! Can we at least spend time with our friends when Nova's not around? She's not going to see us and Charlie apologized to her for the 100th time this morning.” She pointed at me.

“She's right, Pen. They are our friends too.” Tulip said calmly.

“I just don't understand why do you two need so long to make up? What did you say to her, Charlie? I have never seen anyone so angry as she is at you.” So Penny wanted us to make up too?

“I thought she told you?” I looked puzzled.

“No...not really.” Tulip admitted. “Every time we asked her about it she got mad at us too so we stopped trying.”

“Then why are you mad at me?” I frowned.

“Charlie, we are only mad at you because we saw how hurt she was. She came back from your fight as if a troll hit her on the head. She cried for hours.” Penny explained.

“I made her cry? Great, as if I don't feel like the worst friend already.” I lost all interest in Quidditch. I wanted to go to my dormitory and never come out of it again.

“I just think she needs time, she'll come around.” Penny looked so sad that I wanted to hug her.

“Yeah, being with McNully really will help my cause.” I rolled my eyes.

“Charlie, you have to get over that guy!” Penny sighed.

“Wait, was this all because of Murphy?” Tulip asked.

“I threw her crush in her face when we were fighting, yeah.” I admitted. “And I told her that we were drifting apart and that it was okay and I understood that she has other friends now.”

“You did what?!” Penny was furious. “You basically broke up your friendship and you wonder why she is so mad at you!” For a second I thought she was going to punch me.

“I am sorry but I don't know what the big deal is.” Tonks looked puzzled. “He was probably mad as she spent more time with everyone else and he said some bad things, he's only human!” She turned from Penny to me. “You said sorry on multiple occasions and it always sounded sincere to me...” Tulip nodded in agreement. “...and she can't take the bloody apology? Sorry, mate but you're not the one doing anything wrong here.” Penny glared at her and if it was possible I would say smoke was coming through her nostrils.

“Don't look at me like that Haywood, you know I'm right! She's overreacting and only thinking about herself.” Bill and Penny gasped. “He's obviously hurting too and she's punishing him for hurting her feelings.” She continued, completely ignoring them.

“You're right.” Penny sighed and finally calmed down.

“Charlie, don't you think we're not trying.” She bit her lip nervously. “We mention you all the time and encourage her to talk to you. She always says she's not ready to talk yet.” She said sadly, avoiding my eyes.

“Give her more time.” Tulip added. I nodded. I would give her all the time in the world if it means I get my best friend back.

“Now, what do you say we go be friends again and watch the match together?” Tonks pulled us all in a hug circle.

“Who are you two Hufflepuffs going to root for?” Bill asked.

“Ravenclaw, of course!” Penny beamed.

“Mate, she fancies Andre, who did you think she was rooting for?” I chuckled.

“Well, I'm rooting for Hufflepuff, I am done giving Nova a shoulder to cry on.” Tonks frowned, put her hand on my shoulder, and looked at me. “I am on your side now, Weasley.” She said and started going up the stairs. That made me smile, she was a good friend.

“I swear, sometimes she scares me.” Jae whispered. Tulip and Penny giggled.

We reached the stands and found a free spot just as Madam Hooch whistled. Both Teams flew to the pitch and the game began. I was curious how the game was going to turn out. I heard that Hufflepuff got a new Keeper this year and apparently she was really good.

I was interested to see her technique so I decided to stare towards the Hufflepuff hoops instead of following Nova's every move.

Were girls right? Was she the one overreacting? I couldn't believe Tonks was on my side as I still felt like I was the one who did everything wrong. She was indeed torturing me at this point, not wanting to talk but I did hurt her feelings, she had the right to be angry. Right?

“And 10 points to Hufflepuff, what an incredible technique that was!” Great, McNully! “If they have more tricks like this up their sleeves then their chance of winning...” I put my hands on my ears to muffle out the absurd percentages he was about to get wherever from. Bill and Jae laughed at me as they knew how annoying I found it.

I had to give it to the Hufflepuff Keeper, she was really good! I bet Tom was already debating a new strategy with our Chasers on how to score past her. Sometimes I was really happy I was the Seeker. I only had one job, catching the Snitch. Even though I admit that I did a poor job playing against Ravenclaw last year.

I decided to look for the Snitch to see if I can spot it from the stands. It was a good practice and it distracted me from listening to McNully's analytics. Seriously, what does she see in that guy!

My search for the Snitch was interrupted as I noticed one of the Bludgers acting weirdly. Both Ravenclaw Beaters were chasing after it, obviously noticing the same thing but just as one of them wanted to hit it away from the pitch, it moved and the Beater almost fell off the broom. It was now going straight for the students watching the match on the side opposite to ours and just as they ducked, it hit the wall behind them, making a hole.

For a second it looked like it was not coming back but then I heard a familiar sound right behind us.

“Down, everyone!” I shouted, putting my hands over Bill and Jae's heads and pushing them down. We ducked just in time as the Bludger made another hole, this time from the other side, right above our heads. “Blimey, Charlie. Thank you!” Tonks said, while Tulip and Penny looked terrified.

Just when I thought it calmed down I saw it going towards Nova. She was so focused on something and when I narrowed my eyes I saw she was going after the Snitch. The Bludger was approaching fast and by the looks of it, she didn't see it.

“Nova!” I cupped my hands around my mouth.

“Charlie, what are you doing?” Bill was holding his hands over his ears as I continued shouting her name.

“The Bludger! It's going to hit her!” I pointed at her. The ball was now catching up to her and just as she was about to grab the Snitch, it hit her in the back, knocking her off her broom.

Penny shrieked and Tulip and Tonks gasped. Madam Hooch used her whistle and all the players flew to the ground to see if Nova was okay. I tried standing on my toes to see what was going on. I needed to know if she was alright. Now more than ever I hated being so short.

“Bill, can you see anything?”

“Take her to the Hospital Wing, quickly!” I heard Madam Hooch shout just as Bill shook his head.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around.

“Charlie, you have to go.” Penny said. I looked at Tonks and Tulip and they both nodded.

“Be there for her, mate.” Bill hugged me and they stood up so I could pass them.

I needed so much time to get away from the stands as students started to panic. The Bludger was now more out of control than before and started making more holes through the stands.

I was pushing people away, getting a lot of angry looks, but I didn't care. I had to know if Nova was alright. I couldn't believe this was happening. We weren't talking for such a long time and now she got hurt. I felt guiltier than ever now and at this point, I promised myself that I would make her talk to me if nothing else will work. It was time to get my best friend back.

I ran through the Courtyard and down the Corridor as fast as I could. I could feel a sharp pain under my ribs but I didn't care. I had to know that she was okay. I stopped between the open Hospital Wing door, leaning on it and trying to catch my breath.

“Nova.” My voice sounded as if my mouth was full of sand.

I walked inside, still panting looking at the beds, trying to find her.

“She is going to be alright, don't you worry.” I heard Madam Pomfrey say. I ran towards the bed, ready to be by her side as I stopped, stupified.

I felt my heart shatter all over again and it seemed like I was about to suffocate, when I saw McNully by her bed, holding her hand and telling her she was going to be okay.

I stormed out of the Hospital Wing before he noticed me, out of the Castle and into the Forbidden Forest and I was never getting out again.

[heyheydidjaknow]

For anyone who is wondering why I deleted the chapters, I was very tired and forgot what tenses were, so I had to go back and change it all, and that is a pain on Tumbr. Tumblr also, apparently, either has a character or word limit, so this is our first 2 parter. I know I could just separate them into chapters, but I feel weird about making a whole chapter devoted to a date, so.

Edit: Who was gonna tell me I misspelled Casey?

Chapter 6 Pt 1

Leo sighs. “Okay, the fact that this will be the second creepiest stunt you’ve pulled this week says a lot.”

“Relax.” Donatello draws another line. “If she has a map of the foreseeable future and showed it to me, it obviously makes sense that I should answer in kind.”

“But,” Raphael points out, “this is the most desperate thing he’s done this week.”

“Zip it.” He caps his pen, holding his diagram up and walking off to his newly obtained whiteboard. “Besides, it’s not a comprehensive flow chart—attempting to list every possible conversation thread would be futile. It's simply a visual aid to remember the general actions I should take in any given situation.” Although you have been promising to “teach him a thing or two” about plot structure one on one, a part of him thinks it appropriate to make the first move. It appears to be the gallant thing to do, anyhow.

Mikey hops over the table, following one of the paths with his finger. “How come you have a shark on this one?”

“Oh,” he nods, “that’s in case she decides to go to the beach and gets attacked by a shark.”

“And why are there these Xs on this one?”

“That signifies the end of one of our lives.”

“And the hearts?”

He blushes. “I’m not answering that.”

Raph shudders. “Man, this just feels gross. I can already feel the secondhand disgust.”

“Raphael,” Donatello sighs, “love is a complex enigma that, if not thoroughly considered and tailored, will crumble before your very eyes. I cannot and will not destroy what little relationship we have by being reckless. Besides,” he scoffs, “in what other possible manner could I ask her out?”

“Hey, Y/N,” Leo offers, “let’s hang out.”

“See, that’s too pedestrian.” He gestures to the poster. “Trust in the—”

You slam through the door. Donnie, apparently panicked, flips the board over with fumbling hands. “H-hey, Y/N. Hey.” He stands up properly, clearing his throat. “Hey.”

You point at him. “How do you feel about busting a corrupt disgrace to the title of scientist?”

“Good!” He peaks at his board, trying to steal himself. “Where are we headed?”

“A neuroscientist by the name of Rockwell got mutated.” You start heading out. “Asshole in question is Victor Falco, AKA Feral Falco, AKA The Rat King if we don’t haul ass. He’s at Rockwell’s lab.”

“Awesome. Let’s go.” He runs after you, shooting a thumbs-up back at his brothers.

You are going to murder a man tonight. Probably. Hopefully not. Depends on how hard it is to wreck his shit. You have been stalking the Channel 6 news for about a week now, waiting for the jackass to show up, and now that he has? You are not about to let him become the monster you knew he could and would become.

“So,” Donnie startles you, lost in thought, “how was your first day of class?”

“It was fine. Met Casey, avoided Irma like the plague, all that jazz.” You turn a right.

“Casey?”

“Casey Jones. Hockey player, real bad at math.”

“A guy?” He seems interested in this subject for some reason.

“Yup.” You reach into your bag, wrapping your fingers around your kitchen knife, hands already shaking. If you must kill him, you will make it quick. “My age.”

“Oh.” He sighs. “That’s… nice.”

‘Can I just take him to the police? I don't have any evidence. This is breaking and entering.’

He clears his throat. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“We’re here.”

You look up at the building, sigh. “So we are.”

He moves in front of you, moving to meet you at eye-level. “Is there anything I need to know before we go in?”

You take a deep breath. “The man in the lab coat is the perp. We need to take him down, first and foremost. He may act a fool, but he’s accountable for the mutation of his partner. We either have to incapacitate, convict or, if necessary, kill him.”

He swallows. “This guy is that bad?”

“Not yet.” You start pulling the knife out properly as you push the door open with your clothed arm. “But it’s best to pull a weed out from the root.”

He follows you closely.

You look down at your phone to double-check that this is the offending room. “Here.” You back up, gesturing to the door eccentrically, heart pounding in your chest. “This is the room.”

He approaches you, brow furrowed. “Y/N,” he asks cautiously, “don’t take this the wrong way, but you look sick. Are you alright?”

You nod. “Nervous is all. Haven’t done this sort of thing before.”

He offers a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry.” He gives you a thumbs up. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, alright?”

Your knuckles go white around the grip as you try to release some tension. ‘Don’t choke. That’s his job.’ “Yeah.” You return it. “Oh, are you free tomorrow night? I still have to give you that lesson.”

His face lights up. “Y-yeah! Totally!” He grins eagerly. “Should I go to your place? At what time?”

“We’ll hash out the details on the way back.” You look prominently to the lock. “Now, I take it you have some gadget or gizmo to help us open this bad boy?”

He kneels, pulling a device from the utility belt on his hip and sliding it into the card reader. “Of course.”

The door lets out a harsh buzz, the light turning green. You pull your sleeve forward onto your hand, pushing the door open.

The room smells like metal and mold and decay, a certain lethality hanging in the air when you enter. You stay close to the wall, pulling down a lever to illuminate the harsh laboratory in an even harsher light. And there, caught frozen as he pockets a vial, is Victor Falco.

His eyes flicker towards the door.

You tackle him to the ground, shifting your weight back onto his legs, and pin his arms above his head. “Donnie,” you call, stopping his struggling with a knife pressed against his neck, “would you be so kind as to find a few things for me? I can tell you where they are in the room, but I’m a bit preoccupied.”

“Uh, sure.” His voice sounds strange to you. Tight. Nervous? Confused? You ignore it for now.

“What is the meaning of this,” the scientist bellows from underneath you. “I demand you give me an explanation!”

“Oh be quiet, traitor.” You press the blade against his skin. “We both know the crime you’ve committed against your partner.”

His eyes widen.

You keep your eyes locked on him at all times. “The first thing you’re looking for is a container of mutagen. When you get to the desk, you should see 2 stacks of drawers.”

You do not hear his footsteps. “Mhm.”

“The bottom left drawer has a false bottom. If you pull it up, you’ll find a canister of mutagen.”

You hear the drawer slide open, the shuffling of papers. “Got it.”

“Fantastic. Now, on the desk should be a flash drive belonging to Rockwell. Grab that.”

“How could you possibly know?” You feel his wrist tense as he clenched his fist. “I was so thorough.”

“I’m psychic,” you lie, smiling coldly. “Be happy I met you here and not in your home.”

“Anything else?”

“Whatever is in his pockets, besides car keys and a wallet. You’re getting new chemicals.”

The doctor does not seem to like that idea. He starts writhing underneath you.

“If you don’t stop moving,” you sigh, bringing the knife up and down quickly, hovering over his left eye, “you, a neuroscientist, will have the pleasure of discovering firsthand if what people say about losing your depth perception is true. See, I’ve always heard that it settles, but I’m more than happy to see it happen firsthand if you’ll indulge me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You aren’t sure.” You chuckle darkly, fingers wrapping tighter still around his wrists. “I don’t need to be a psychic to feel your shaking.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a green blob crouch down, pulling vials from his pockets.

“You’re a child.”

“And yet I’m the one holding a knife to you.” ‘Why am I so calm?’ “You’re selfish. You’re prideful. You won’t try anything because I know you to be cowardly, and you won’t say anything,” you nod, “because, if you did, you would have to admit to breaking into your missing partner’s lab, and deal with the backlash regarding me and my associate bringing that hard drive to the police and letting them connect the dots.” You smile sweetly. “Donnie, would you be so kind as to get some distance between you and Mr. Falco?” You do not look over at him, focused on the current task. “If he pulls anything, you need to be able to bring that to the police.”

“Got it.” A few seconds pass. “I’m by the door.”

You slide the carving knife in that general direction. “Goodnight, Falco.” You grab his hair, slamming his head against the ground once as you leap to your feet. You grab the knife, sprinting towards the door. “And that is our cue to leave.”

Donatello, who is having interesting feelings about the whole thing, appears to have been snapped out of some sort of trance. He nods, and the both of you exit the scene.

--

You wipe your mouth on your sleeve, shaking as you rest your chin on the edge of the dumpster. “T-thanks,” you smile shakily. “I appreciate it, really.”

“Not at all.” He let your locks fall from his hand. “I imagine it’s hard, what with having hair and all.” He helps you down from your perch on a stack of crates. “Are you feeling alright now?”

“Besides my mouth tasting like stomach acid? Never better.” You sigh, rubbing your face with your hands. “Sorry. The nerves just kinda…” you trail off, cheeks dusted pink. “Well, you get the idea.”

“It’s alright, really.” He smiles fondly. “You were really bold in there. It was really cool.”

“I don’t feel cool. I feel the opposite of cool.” You start down the alleyway. “But at least we stopped a ton of problems in its tracks.”

You hear a primal cry as a large primate lands in front of you.

You look him in the eyes, already tired of this episode. “Good evening, Dr. Rockwell.”

His eyes snap to Donatello, who was already unsheathing his bo staff. You look over your shoulder at him. “Chill out. He’s cool.”

“He’s a giant monkey!”

“Dude, he’s a well-esteemed scientist.” You turn to face him properly, holding his arms out to get some proper separation. “Put the effin stick down.”

“But—” He stops, takes a deep breath, and sheathes the staff. “Alright. I’ll trust you.” He seems almost disturbed by your apparent ease.

You turn back to face him properly, smiling. “Doctor,” you nod, “your partner will be of no concern to you from this point onward. Rest assured; his research has been halted.” Your tone is politely respectful.

The wild eyes of the primate calm. He seems to at least sense the general sentiment. He nods once, leaping up onto the nearest rooftop and disappearing into the night.

You nod in satisfaction, looking back at the stunned Donatello.

“He calmed down so easily.”

“He has a human mind, for the most part.” You shrug, continuing down the alley. “Let’s head back. Man, if you dad knew the kind of trouble I just got him out of.” You giggle at his dumbstruck expression, walking backward to keep facing him. “Well, are you just gonna stand there lookin pretty or are you going to come with?”

His face goes red. He nods once, hurrying after you.

You two walk quietly for a little over a minute. “Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”

“Totally.” You decide to bite the bullet and pull of the manhole cover. “What’s up?”

“Why do you call him that?”

“Call who what?” You start climbing down.

“You know, not call him Master Splinter.” He pulls the cover back on, landing beside you. “You always call him my dad or Yoshi or Mr. Hamato.”

“Well,” you shrug, “he’s your dad, right?”

“I’m not saying it’s a problem,” he clarified, “or that’s it’s incorrect, but most people—myself included—refer to him as Master Splinter.”

You start walking with him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Donnie,” you sigh, “but, if I can help it, I honestly hope I never have to call him that.”

“Why?” He walks beside you, eyes tracing your figure subtlety.

“Didn’t I already say?” You nod back in the direction you guys came from. “You saw how I acted back there. This is only episode six or seven. The trauma I’d have to go through as a ninja here would kill me,”

“But you have the guts for it.” His voice is certain. “You’re strong enough, mentally, to be a ninja.”

You pause, your throat catching. You wonder if he would still think so if he had seen how you had spent your nights.

He clears his throat, blushing again. “I think you are, anyway.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck silently. You feel him seize up under you. “Thank you,” you mumble.

He slowly relaxes, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours gently. Slowly, he buries his hand in your hair. He is always so warm— he makes you feel oddly safe. This is only the second time you have been this physically close to him, but you don’t think for a moment that he would try anything.

You back off, clearing your throat as your cheeks catch fire. “Sorry,” you smile timidly. “I’ve just been… I’m not usually this clingy.”

He blinks out of his stupor, looking down at you. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it.” He grinned giddily, almost drunk. “Y-You are all good.”

You swallow. “I’ve gotta do an introduction type project for school, so I gotta get back home.” You walk back in the direction you two came. “Come to my place at about seven tomorrow. I’ll order food.”

He nods, body relaxed. “Seven. Got it.” He does.

You wave, walking back to the ladder. “Then I’ll see you then.”

He stands there, watching you leave. As soon as he hears the sliding of the manhole cover back into place, he takes a moment to celebrate the victory before starting to walk back to the lair.

‘I got a date!’

Table of Contents

Chapter 5

Chapter 6, Part 2

[red-and-blue-sewer-circus-arc]

Pennywise: Survival pt. 1

Direct sequel to Date Night

Warnings: Blood and gore, mental breakdown, mention of child violence, suicide attempt, hard vore, suspension sex, double penetration

Two weeks of hell.

Two weeks since you had seen the deadlights and two weeks since you had last seen Pennywise.

You managed to save your sanity, but just barely. What you witnessed in the alley that night pushed you right up to the brink where you teetered, hanging over the edge that would have shattered your mind. You made it back, but the realization of how small and insignificant your existence was had thrown you into a deep depression. You had no family to talk to, not that they would have believe you anyway, and you hadn't made any friends in Derry. Your relationship with the local monster had stopped any chance of that happening. The cherry on top of your shit sunday was that said monster was also not speaking to you and you had no idea why.

His fury was apparent and spread throughout the pages of the local news. More bodies found torn to pieces in the last few weeks than the rest of the year combined. And those were only the ones they found. Of course, it didn’t seem to reach the national news. You knew that Pennywise had a certain... influence over Derry. He was contagious. His rot seeped into the very foundation of the town, poisoning the water so to speak. And why was he so angry anyway? You were the one who was almost driven insane. The one who was almost eaten. Your last memory of that night still sent chills down your spine. Pennywise had been staring at you.. watching, hungry and then, nothing. He was gone.

It didn’t make sense and you couldn’t find him to ask. In the past week alone you had tried going back to the dilapidated house on Neibolt street. You looked down drains when you passed by, hung out around the canal, you even tried going into the sewers but before long you were dirty and wet and lost. After hours of wandering around you had finally managed to find your way out. Pennywise was nowhere to be found and he was making it very obvious just how little you truly mattered to him. After three months together you had started to feel like you were building a bond, maybe understanding him a little bit better. It took one look into the infinity of the deadlights to show you just how wrong you were. You were nothing to IT.

Feeling abandoned and hopeless, you decided that was it. You had to get out of that god forsaken hell hole of a town one way or another. The bet with Pennywise didn’t matter anymore. He had thrown you away like garbage and he would either let you go, or he would eat you. At that moment, you didn't care which he chose as long as it was over with. You packed up a few of your belongings and threw them in the back seat of your car before heading for the city limits.

As you drove past the 'Now Leaving Derry' sign, the trees lining the sides of the road began to blur together. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and you quickly wiped them away. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of making you cry. It was bad enough that you were running away. Again.

A second sign was quickly approaching. Odd, because you didn't remember a second sign on your way to Bangor just two weeks ago.

'Welcom to Derry'

It was the same sign you had passed five months before when you first moved to Derry.

What the hell?

You knew there was no way the highway looped back around to town. Stepping on the gas, you sped through town until you reached the city limits. Once again, you found yourself driving past the same 'Welcome to Derry' sign. This time however, words were written in jagged red paint across the face of the billboard.

'You'll Never Leave.'

The hell you wouldn't. On your third pass of the welcome sign, you noticed a bunch of red balloons tied to something laying in the overgrown grass. Pulling over, you walked up to the sign and for the first time realized the red letters appeared to be thick, wet blood instead of paint. Coppery rot filled your senses and you covered your mouth and nose with the sleeve of your sweater while you studied the balloons. There was a slight breeze swaying the tops of the trees, but the balloons seemed to move with their own phantom wind. Your gaze followed the balloon strings down and you gasped when you finally got a good look at what the balloons were tied to.

There was a severely decomposed corspe propped up against the bottom of the sign. Based on the size and rotting scraps of fabric, you thought it might have been a teenage girl at one point but now, there was no way to be sure. From the collar bones to the hips, the corpse was little more than a squishy green skeleton. Wherever the body had come from had been dark... and damp. The balloon strings were tied to an exposed rib.

Several cars drove by while you stood there in horror, but if any of them noticed the blood or the balloons none of them even bothered to slow down. There was a pop as stiffened tendons snapped and you turned just in time to watch as the corpse's rotting jaw dropped open. A wet sewer rat looked up at you from it's spot on the bloated tongue before it started to gnaw on her lips. You turned and ran, grateful that at least you made it back to the road before you threw up.

Once you had emptied the contents of your stomach on the asphalt, you rinsed your mouth out with a bottle of water and climbed back into your car. You could still see the balloons as they floated and occassionally bumped against the sign with it's gory warning. It didn't take a genius to figure out the message.

No. You weren't going to die like that.

You sped through town but this time, instead of driving straight through, you pulled into the empty parking lot of your office building. Using your work keys, you unlocked the front door and walk across the lobby to the elevator. A quick ride to the top floor followed by one last set of stairs and you were on the roof. Determined, you marched across the roof and climbed up to stand on the ledge.

Wind whipped your skirt around your legs while you looked at the town of Derry. How could such a pretty, picturesque scene hide something so rotten under it's surface?

“This is it Pennywise!”

You yelled as you held your arms out to your sides. He would either show himself or you would die and in that moment, anything seemed better than living with the depression, the loneliness, the abandonment for a second longer.

You tipped over the edge of the building... and fell, with arms outstretched.

[witcherarcanathings]

Where the Water Tastes like Wine Pt. 3 OC x Valerius series

Part One, Part Two (Lemon), Part 4, Part Five

Valerius paced back and forth in his study, occasionally looking up at the clock, enraged.  

It had been two hours since he had sent his servant for the witch and she had not appeared. He was not going to go without his noontime glass.

 “BOY!” he barked. Within moments the young servant with black hair and pale green eyes appeared.

 “Where is the witch?” He demanded. “It’s been several hours.”

“Yes S-sir.” the boy stammered. “I went to her rooms to fetch her, and she said she would be along shortly.”

“YOu told me that an hour ago fool,” Valerius aimed his words  at the like daggers.

“S-Sir, I did, Sir...forgive me...I…” the boy whimpered

“Spit it out!” Valeried snapped.

“I went back to get her sir, I said it was urgent. She just waved me away and said she would come, that she was busy with more pressing matters.” he quivered, eyes not daring to look up from the ground.

 Valerius felt his jaw clench, and bawled his fist. She was what? He seethed. What business could have pressed her more than a summons from Vesuvia’s Consul? Nothing that’s what, he answered his own question. She was just making him wait. Making him suffer.

“You bring her here,” he said through clenched teeth, “Now.”

 The boy ran out of the room, too frightened to bow before exiting.

To the Consul’s relief, the boy came back a quarter of an hour later, exhausted and out of breath. Valerius was pleased.

“Announcing Fury, palace magician, my lord,” the boy said through ragged breaths.

When Fury entered, he waved the boy away. The boy bowed and left quickly, happy to escape the ire of his master.

Valerius stared at her in silence, watching her shift uncomfortably under his gaze. Good, he thought. She was nervous. She should be for making someone of his standing wait. The nerve.

 She was wearing a sapphire blue dress of the finest silk, long sleeves, with a plunging neckline showcasing a gold necklace with a raw emerald that dangled between her almond brown chest. Her dark coils hung around her like a halo, a gold band keeping them from falling to her face. 

 Though her gaze was penetrating and intelligent, Valerius couldn’t figure why everyone at the palace had become so taken with her. She was plump and curvy, and he took note of her hands tugging nervously at where her dress hugged her hips and thick thighs. 

What was it about her that interested him so? She had a strange sort of beauty, and he admitted that he found her attractive. But he had lovers who surpassed her. If he really thought about it, perhaps there was nothing to her. Afterall, she was just the apprentice of that Harbor Rat Magician, he shouldn’t even find her remotely appealing. 

But he did. Even with her cheek. Especially because of it. 

He turned his expression away in boredom.

"You wished to see me Consul? The apprentice asked, apparently annoyed at the prolonged silence. 

“Is it some witchy custom to keep their betters waiting, or is that just your usual impertinent behavior?” Valerius droned.

“I’m investigating the Count’s Murder,” she said curtly. “Unless you have any additional evidence, anything else is secondary. Wouldn’t you agree Consul?”

Damn her, Valerius swore. He kept his features cool and even, steepling his fingers and reclining into his chair. “Apologies, Magician. Given your qualifications and experience in such matters, I had forgotten Nadia had appointed you as investigator for our beloved Count.”

 Fury ignored his remark and asked, “Was there something I could help you with?”

 "Yes,” valerius answered, pulling a glass of wine from seemingly out of nowhere. 

"Fix this." He commands placing his wine glass on the table and sweeping his had across it with a flourish. 

 Fury gave a sly smile. "If the Consul wishes to have more wine, I'm sure a servant would be better suited to assist you." 

"Don't mock me, witch!" Valerius snapped. "You know what you've done, and you will undo it immediately!" 

 Fury straightened and held up her forefinger. "First of all," she began, " I'm not a witch, as I've already told you." 

 She took a few steps towards him, eyes cool and dark. "Perhaps the Consul has forgotten so I'll say it clearly. I'm a magician. Ma-GI-cian," She clapped her hands assertively, emphasizing the syllables. "My powers reach far beyond that of some common witch," she explained," If I were a witch I’d turn you into the ass you  are and not-" 

"Not resort to childish antics as cursing my wine to taste like water?" Valerius quipped. 

"I was about to say not deal with your condescending bullshit." Fury countered, hands on her wide hips. 

"Watch your tongue," Valerius snarled. How dare she take that tone with him.

 "I thought you were doing that already, Consul." She shot teased, smirking when she saw Valerius’ cheeks flush pink, eyes shifting away from her. Embarrassment was an emotion he rarely felt, but one he dealt out gratuitously.

 Valerius changed the subject, quickly. He wasn't going to let that tricky little witch distract him. He put on his customary sneer, "SO you admit that pathetic little display of yours was meant to curse me." 

 She scoffed, waving her hand as if swatting a fly. "I didn't say that. What I am saying is that I'm in no inclination or obligation to assist you.That 'pathetic little display', as you put it, was meant to make sure you didn't break eye contact while I was working my magic, and it worked." She said smiling." You couldn't look away, could you Consul?" 

 Valerius furrowed his brow. He couldn’t tell if he was angry or amused. She was making a fool of him and she knew it, and he had no recourse. 

 He straightened himself, and rose from his desk stepping coolly towards Fury."As the palace magician-" 

 "As the palace magician I've done nothing but been ridiculed or undermined by you, Valerius. You've made a point of trying to belittle my decisions and recommendations to the Countess from day one. You make snide remarks at court about my hair or my dress. You seem to relish making my place here difficult. Yet despite all that, I've managed to do my job. And  I do not have time to waste dealing with your problems." Fury was not having it today.

“A problem you caused!” Valerius hissed, pointing his finger accusingly at the magician.

 “No, Consul,” Fury said softly but strongly, “A problem you caused the moment you decided to insult me in front of the entire court.” 

Valerius stared at her for a moment, not sure what to do or say next. They stood together in silence, neither of them moving, neither giving way until Valerius watched the magician approached his desk and come upon the wine glass.

“You’ve decided to remove your curse, witch?” he sneered.

“You’ve decided to apologize?” she quipped.

Valerius laughed at the thought. “For what reason? You’ve had your fun and gotten your revenge. It’s not necessary.” he said sighing. He hoped his show of indifference hadn’t enraged her enough to change her mind.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She said cooly, keeping her eyes away from his.

 The apprentice took Valerius' glass and pressed it to her lips taking a small sip.  

"Tastes fine to me," She shrugged. 

 "I know it does damn it!" He snarled," Don't play games. You cursed me. Not the wine. It only tastes like water to me."   

Fury sighed,"It's all about you isn't it. Your position, your status, your wine. You didn't  even bother to ask me what I want." 

“I don’t give a damn about what you want, witch.” he cursed, infuriated. “ As Consul of Vesuvia I order you to remove the spell, or I’ll have you arrested.”

Fury laughed. Whether she was being haughty or was actually nervous, Valerius couldn’t tell.

“I’ve already told you. You have the ability to break it yourself. There was no need to send that poor boy to come drag me from my work.”

“Exactly how could I have done that? I’m no witch.” he rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, trying to stave off a building headache. When he opened them he could have sworn a look of concern had crossed Fury’s face that passed as quickly as he caught it.

“Surely you know your Latin, finely educated as you are. And as I’ve said the problem is your answer.Or rather the answer is the problem.” She sighed stepping closer to him. So close to him that  Valerius could smell the same scent that reminded him of a field of oats bathed in sunlight. It was almost calming, enticing. He could picture himself walking among billowing stalks of grain, like the ones bordering his vineyard.

He was finding it hard to be angry with her now. “Help me please.” he looked into her eyes, and stuck him arm out to her, “There’s no need for this to go any further. Remove the curse, and apologize, and I’ll forget the whole thing.”

If it wasn’t for his last words, she might have given him the answer. She was actually hoping he wasn’t as actually as bad as she thought. First impressions are often wrong but...Apologize? He expected her to apologize? Absolutely not. He had humiliated her, and hadn’t even given it a second thought. The whole point of this was to make him respect her, to let him know that while she might be quiet and kind, that didn’t make her an easy target for his japes. 

“I can’t help you,” she answered quickly, “It’s within your own power to resolve, I’ve given you the answer.” She turned away. “If you’ll excuse me I need to use the library.” she said over her shoulder as she walked briskly towards the door.

Valerius was livid.  “Don’t you walk away from me, witch!” He bellowed,“You were not excused! COme back at -” 

The only sound he heard was the sound of the large oak doors closing behind her. 

He would have considered going after her if it wasn’t for his pride. He resolved to break her curse, he wasn’t going to beg. 

But he’d make it his business to bring the witch the witch to her knees.

No one walked away from him.

I knew this took awhile, but I’ve had some other ideas, and other wips, and I’ll be finishing the next part by this weekend. Probably the next one will have some fluff/smut. IDK where Fury is going with this. Honestly, I don’t think she does either. Also I’m trying to learn how to draw so I can show her to you all. Thanks! 😃

[scaryscarecrows]

Roots and Leaves, Pt. 3

You can believe or disbelieve Sheila's story-my lips are sealed.

This isn’t his fault. Really it isn’t.

He really was just minding his own business, picking up a few things for dinner, but this is Gotham, and every outing carries the risk of armed robbery. It’d be fuckin’ laughable if it weren’t, you know, annoying.

And potentially dangerous-this guy’s clearly a rookie at the whole ‘robbery’ gig. He’s waving the gun around and Jason can just see that finger twitching. Idiot…unless you’re really, really ready to kill someone, finger off the trigger, don’t crooks take any sorta common sense classes anymore, jeeze…

So. Really, as a qualified individual (anyone asks, he’s got prior military experience haha), Jason has to intervene. It’s an eighty-twenty shot that the guy’ll hit somebody rather than himself, and that’s just…no. Just no.

Fucker. He just wants to go home and make a goddamn stir-fry and then maybe have a root beer float and then go out and see about throwing the fear of a horrible death into that pimp whose girls walk Lindt Avenue and have barely-covered bruises. That’s literally all he wants to do today. Is that so much to ask? IS IT?

He sighs, sets his bell peppers (and they’d better still be here when he’s done, they are nice bell peppers, dammit) down, and thinks he should just get into the habit of wearing his body armor every time he leaves his apartment. Fuckin’ Gotham bullshit…every goddamn time…just once, just once, is all he asks…this never happens in Metropolis…

“Hey, you!”

Day-Ruiner turns around in time to take a fist to the face. He drops like a stone, gun falling neatly into Jason’s hand. There. Disaster averted, can he get his groceries and go home now?

No. No, he can’t, because there’s witnesses (and yeah, okay, that little boy staring at him like he’s Iron Man or something is really cute), and they’re all swarming around him. God dammit. See, this is why playing the hero is a stupid idea, he never learns…

“Holy shit, dude-”

“Sir, if you’d just-”

“Wow-”

“Did you see-”

stopStopSTOPSTOPSTOP-

“Really, I just-”

Someone grabs his arm and a woman says, “I’m a doctor, let me see your hand.”

He’s about to protest-he knows how to throw a punch, for fuck’s sake-but.

But.

Doctor-lady is blonde and blue-eyed and. And.

And he doesn’t know what to say, or do. Nothing? Nothing’s a good option. Nothing’s the best option. It’s just.

Up close, he can see it, maybe. Same jawline. Or maybe he’s grasping at straws, he just doesn’t know-

He’s led out of the throng-and oh, joy, somebody’s calling the cops and somebody else is recording this for ‘the gram’, whatever that is-and into the frozen aisle. An ice cream display with a smiling penguin on it stands out and he wonders how long it’ll take ol’ Ozzie to pitch a fit.

Or who the hell knows, maybe he’ll be flattered.

“Look, um, Miss-”

“Jason.”

What.

He shuts up, unable to even protest or deny or-or anything, and she reaches up, brushes roughened fingertips across the brand on his cheek.

“Look at you,” she whispers, “look at you.”

He should…something. ‘Do I know you?’ or maybe ‘what the hell are you doing?’, but he’s just. She’s. People don’t.

How the hell does she know who he is? He only hides the…hides it when he goes out because people stare, not because he’s worried about running into someone.

Sheila Haywood drops her hand and smiles. Jason is reminded uncomfortably of Leslie Thompkins trying to convince him, when Bruce first took him in, that she wasn’t going to hurt him. It’s a bright, reassuring smile, and never mind that he doesn’t…like…people smiling at him so much anymore, he doesn’t trust it. Every time he’s gotten that kind of smile, it’s been followed by a painful-ass shot at best (that sucker didn’t make up for shit, Doc, that hurt) or…worse.

Makes it easier to lie, though.

“Do I know you?”

“Oh!” The smile reals up a bit, turns awkward like her driver’s license photo. “I thought…hem, hem.” She straightens up, magically professional, and takes his (perfectly unharmed, thank you) hand. “This is awkward, I’m sorry…oh, you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I know how to throw a punch.” His mouth is dry and he doesn’t think that came out as testy as he wanted it to. “Who are you, exactly?”

He doesn’t want confirmation, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he needs to just shut up-

“Jason Todd?” He nods before he can stop himself. Even now, with his name so alien to his ears, he responds to it. “I. Your father was Willis Todd, right?”

Another nod. Sheila drops his hand but doesn’t stop looking at him.

“Hem, hem…this. This might be…I don’t want to have this conversation in an ice cream aisle. Can we talk somewhere else?”

He should say no. The answer is no, Bruce’s stupid files mean fuck-all and she gave the Joker who fucking knows what and…and…

And she recognized him.

And she asked.

“Okay.”

* * *

‘Somewhere else’ turns out to be some Ethiopian restaurant a few blocks away. Jason recognizes exactly nothing on the menu, but he’s game for anything once. He’s eaten rat before, for chrissakes. Joker…didn’t. He didn’t come back, for a while. Almost a week. And no one else had known to come, then, or they just hadn’t bothered. And it had run by, and, well…

Well. He doesn’t remember what it tasted like. He’s grateful.

Whatever this is-some sort of stew, with a crap-ton of vegetables in it-is spicy as all hell and he makes a note to test it against the Death Broth from his preferred soup cart across town. He likes it, though, even if it does make his lips hurt. (In its defense, it can’t help that he has the bad habit of chewing on them when he’s upset.)

Sheila apparently does the same thing-seems like every time he looks at her she’s either got them between her teeth or is desperately trying to keep them out. Her lipstick’s long gone after about twenty minutes.

If he’s going to be honest, he’s not sure which is more unnerving-the fact that he’s out in broad daylight, without the security of his hood and his sunglasses and a book-shield, or the fact that he’s out with what Bruce’s files claim is his mother.

Both. He’s gonna go with them both being equally stressful and not think about it further.

They haven’t spoken since they sat down. He doesn’t know what to say. How much does she know, what’s going on?

“I thought you were dead.”

Well, that wasn’t what he was expecting. Though to be fair, a lot of people were under that impression. Supposedly.

“Mm-mm.” Maybe not the most eloquent of responses, but it’s not like Emily Post has a chapter about ‘what to say to people who thought you were murdered by an insane clown’. “Not exactly.”

“I’m so sorry, Jason.”

For what? It’s not like she kidnapped him and gave him to Joker. Jeeze.

“It wasn’t your fault-”

She laughs, sort of, and it’s shaky and broken and a little unsettling.

“I don’t think we’re on the same page, I’m sorry.”

What’s going on.

“Um, Miss-Miss? Miss, okay-Haywood, I don’t…”

“Willis Todd and I dated for about two years,” she says, and okay, maybe she doesn’t know very much but she recognized him so she knows something and he doesn’t understand- “Then we broke up and he started seeing Catherine Johnson.”

What do normal people say to this, people that haven’t seen Batman’s stalker files?

“Okay?”

“You have to understand, I was a poor college girl, and by the time I realized…” She laughs again, awkward and shaky and broken. “You were a dream pregnancy, kid.”

Well. Add that to the bucket of ‘didn’t know, don’t care, thanks’.

“That’s good?”

She nods.

“By the time I realized, it was…I didn’t know what to do, I ended up in some crap clinic, arguing with your father.” He figures now’s not the time to state that Willis was no father. He was just sorta…well. It doesn’t matter. “Labor’s a bitch and don’t let anyone tell you different.” They don’t. “I went down, after, and when I woke up, Willis was gone and the doctor-well, I say doctor, you know how it can be down there-said you’d died.” She reaches across the table and grips his sleeve. “I was young, I was on painkillers that probably weren’t…I believed him, and I’m sorry.”

The sad thing is, it’s Gotham and that kind of shit happens all the time. Willis used to complain that not even the damn mobs would take him and why didn’t he throw him in the river and blah, blah, blah. Mom-Catherine-used to, on her better days, tell Willis to shut up and drink his goddamn beer. Usually he’d even do it, because by the time he’d start complaining he was halfway through a box anyway and too comfy to retaliate.

So. As crazy as it sounds, it’s not at all out of the realm of possibility.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says. “It wasn’t your fault, it’s okay.”

“I should have known better.” Frank, to the point. “I should have realized from the get-go. I was studying to be a doctor, for Heaven’s sake, what does that say?”

“That I didn’t want you to flunk your exams?”

This time the laugh’s a little more genuine and she pats his arm-why does she keep touching him?-and shakes her head.

“Maybe.”

They fall into a semi-awkward silence. There’s the buzz of casual chatter around them, and the sound of dishes being passed around and of traffic outside, shouting and honking horns and an ambulance.

He’s not sure what to say. What is there to say?

“But you recognized me.” That’s not what he meant to say. He meant to…to put an end to this, because he doesn’t have family and it’s better that way and…

And she could have kept her mouth shut and she didn’t and he wants to know why.

“Batman was looking for you.” Because Alfred made him, probably. “And I…I made some mistakes, when I was younger.” He can’t even really judge her too much because Joker got inside his head, too. “He thought. He thought I might be able to help. God, he scared the shit out of me.” He’s good at that. That’s one of the very few things he’s absolutely mastered. “And I didn’t know anything, but…but here you are.”

She’s still holding his sleeve and he twists his arm so his fingers are brushing hers. It’s the best he can do.

“Yeah,” he says, and he doesn’t mean for his voice to be so goddamn tight. “Yeah, here I am.”

[today-we-will-survive]

Welcome to Camp Bangtan pt. 21

Summer Camp au!

Jungkook x Reader/Y/N

Fluff

Word Count: 1,824

Part 1 | Previous | Taehyung’s Summer Scrapbook | Master List

That night, being the last night of camp, was the annual talent show. Jungkook had actually completely forgotten about it but apparently, for the other campers, this was the best night of the whole week.

The different acts actually weren’t that terrible. The East Blue Girls’ Cabin put together a dance and did pretty well at staying together. One guy from the West Red Boys’ Cabin told jokes and flopped royally. Taehyung laughed extra loud which he probably did to make the guy feel better but surely made things worse. Geun and Sungmi ended up doing a skit that didn’t really make much sense and the only people that clapped were the guys and that was most likely just for Sungmi. The rest of the night was filled with more skits, more singing, some poetry—which was awkward when the boy broke down crying in the middle of the song and ran off the stage, his apparently newly ex-girlfriend chasing after him to try to calm him down.

Finally, Yoongi and Namjoon performed a song they had written during the week—when they weren’t busy recovering at the hospital. Jungkook sat silently along with the rest of the audience, everyone too in awe of how expertly they rapped. Not to mention, Jungkook had never heard someone spit fire as fast as Yoongi. He glanced over at Taehyung, who had his camera pointed at the stage. When he saw Jungkook looking at him he gave an exaggerated nod.

“I know, right?” he mouthed before looking down at the viewfinder again.

Once the two were done, Jiyoung got up and made her way to the center of the stage. “Thank you Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi for another incredible performance.”

“Our mixtape will be available after the show!” Namjoon yelled and the campers burst into another round of applause.

Jiyoung waited amusedly until the clapping finally died down. “And now for our final performance of the night, here to serenade us with a song, please help me welcome to the stage, Kim Taehyung!”

Only a smattering of confused applause peppered the air as everyone’s eyes fell on Taehyung. He shoved his camera into a very confused Jungkook’s hands before climbing over him to get to the stairs. Jungkook looked at Y/N who matched his flabbergasted expression.

Taehyung made his way up onto the stage and gave Jiyoung a quick bow before taking the mic from her hands and replacing it on the stand. “Thank you! And thank you to the Ginger Ninja for letting me borrow his guitar!”

“For once I’d like it if you’d call me by my real name,” Sejin said as he got up from his seat in the front row and passed an acoustic guitar up to Taehyung.

“I didn’t know Tae played guitar,” Jungkook said leaning into Y/N.

She shook her head. “I didn’t either.”

Still completely confused, Jungkook zoomed the camera in until Taehyung and the guitar filled the screen.

“I just wanted to thank all the counselors for yet another eventful year here at Camp Bangtan.” Another awkward spattering of applause. He continued on after the clapping died. “This song is dedicated to my new best bro, Kook.” He flashed Jungkook a thumbs up and Jungkook returned the gesture, raising his hand high above his head for the boy to see. Then Taehyung leaned into the mic again. “Oh, and I guess my sister too, or whatever.”

“Love you too, bro!” Y/N yelled.

Taehyung cleared his throat dramatically then strummed a chord on the guitar. He waited until the note faded into silence before leaning into the mic. “When…yooooooouuuuuuu’rrrreeee…” Then he started plucking the strings. “…sittin’ in your Chevy and you’re feelin’ somethin’ heavy, diarrhea…diarrhea.”

“Oh no,” Y/N groaned and buried her face in her hands.

Jungkook leaned into her. “What is this?”

“He told me he wouldn’t do the song. He promised me.”

“When your stomach really hurts and you know that it’s the squirts! Diarreah…dia—”

Sejin had rushed onto the stage and snatched the mic off the stand before Taehyung could finish. “Uh, that was my fault,” he said to Jiyoung who had gotten to her feet. His face was redder than his hair. “Should have known better.”

Jungkook turned to Y/N and put a hand on hers. “I’m so sorry,” he said and worry flashed through her eyes as he gave her the camera and stood up. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Diarrhea!”

Taehyung’s face broke out into a wide smile. Then he surrounded his own lips with his hands so his voice could be heard throughout the Pit. “When you’re walkin’ to the Hall and you feel somethin’ fall!”

“Diarrhea!” Jungkook yelled back hearing a few other voices join his. “Diarrhea!” This time more people.

Hoseok jumped to his feet in front of Y/N. “When you’re sliding into first and you feel somethin’ burst!”

“Diarrhea!” Now it was the whole crowd. “Diarrhea!”

As other campers in the crowd started spouting off lines they remembered from the song and others chanted their responses, Taehyung lifted the guitar strap from around his neck and handed the instrument off to Sejin, who just stood there looking helpless. He started running up the stairs, grabbing Jungkook’s sleeve and tugging as he went by. Jungkook took Y/N’s fingers, letting her hand off the camera to Hoseok before pulling her along with him. The three made their way out of the Pit as the rest of the campers continued singing this song that had all the counselors horrified.

The three ran through the darkness. There was no light to illuminate the paths but that didn’t matter. Jungkook had come to know these trails so well over the course of the week. His feet knowing where to step to keep from tripping. None of them had to even mention where they were going. They all just knew. And when he broke out of the trees to see the Dock stretched out before him, Jungkook’s smile widened. He still held Y/N’s hand tightly in his own and he could hear Taehyung’s footsteps behind him as they raced toward the end of the Dock. Jungkook didn’t even slow down as he neared the edge. Instead, he squeezed Y/N’s fingers and pushed off, sailing through the air, a joyful yell leaving his lungs just before he plunged into the icy lake.

He’d let go of Y/N’s hand at some point below the surface but when he emerged again, he felt her arms wrap around his neck. Her laugh filled the silence and her body pressed against his and all he could do was pull her tighter against him. He was wet and shivering but the happiest he had ever been. Seconds later, Taehyung resurfaced with a loud whoop and a whip of his head, his wet hair sending a spray of water in all directions.

They swam for a while, the night air filled with their shouting and laughter. Every few minutes a splash fight would break out and before long, the three were shivering and they all crawled back up onto the Dock and flopped down onto their backs, muscles aching, heads spinning and hearts full.

Y/N rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her elbow. “So, was Camp Bangtan everything you hoped it would be?” she asked.

Jungkook let his head fall to the side so he could look at her and smiled. “Well, it was definitely more eventful than I thought it would be.”

A laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Yeah, I guess any year after this will pale in comparison. If you come back, that is.”

Jungkook reached over, picking up her free hand and pressing it to his chest. “Of course, I’m coming back,” he said. “As long as you and Tae are here.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N said and craned her neck to look at her brother who lay on Jungkook’s other side. “Now that he’s solved the Cabin mystery, I don’t know that he’ll want to.” Taehyung let out an exhausted groan. “Then again, he did finally make a friend. Though I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to move across the country after all this.”

Jungkook brought Y/N’s hand up and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Nah,” he sighed against her knuckles. “I think the good outweighs the bad.”

“I figured we would find you guys here.”

The three West Siders scrambled to their feet and watched as two lights bobbed toward them. As they got closer, Jin and Hoseok’s faces appeared from out of the darkness.

“Are you gonna rat on us?” Taehyung asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“We won’t tell if you don’t,” Hoseok said with a shrug.

The now-famous boxy grin spread across Taehyung’s face. “Well, in that case…” then without warning, he grabbed the front of the East Sider’s shirt and yanked him hard, sending him crashing into the lake.

Hoseok came up sputtering just in time for Taehyung to hit the water right next to him. As he watched the two splash each other, Jungkook felt Y/N give his hand a squeeze. When he looked at her, she flicked her eyes to Jin then quirked a brow.

“So how’s the swimming going, Jin?” Jungkook asked him, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a mischevious smile.

Instead of giving them an answer, Jin suddenly rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s waist and tackling him off the edge of the Dock. They hit the water before Jungkook even knew what was going on and when he resurfaced, the first thing he saw was Y/N doubled over with laughter back up on the Dock.

“Apparently, he’s improved!” she choked out between fits of giggling.

Jungkook could only laugh in reply, his heart still racing at the surprise attack. When Jin came back to the surface, he pushed his wet hair back off his forehead, his eyes shining, mouth set in a triumphant grin.

“Don’t think I’m going easy on you next year, Jeon,” he said. “I plan to reinstate the East Siders at the top, where we belong.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Jin,” Taehyung said just before Hoseok dunked him.

Jungkook just laughed and glanced back up at Y/N. She sat on the edge now, her feet dangling in the water, the moon illuminating the bright smile on her beautiful face.

Maybe they’d be something great someday, maybe not. But today, the only day they were guaranteed to have, they were nothing but each other. And even though that wasn’t much, even though they were going to have to leave the next day and even though that thought made him sad, a part of Jungkook was happy. A small, little spark, deep in his chest, soft and safe and illuminated like a firefly.

He felt like he was living.

*******

This story didn’t originally start out as BTS fanfic. I actually wrote it during NaNoWriMo in 2014 and then let the draft sit for four years. It looked pretty much completely different than the finished product and I’m so happy I was able to dust it off and polish it up and turn it into the fic it has become.

On a side note, I kept changing my mind on who I wanted to be the one harassing Jungkook. It started out as the head counselor (in my original story there was this whole huge plot about the MC having repressed memories of being one of the kidnapped children and he realizes it while at camp and the counselor has something to do with it and it was a whole thing) then I made it Hoseok but after a few chapters with him being the bad guy in my mind, I decided I just couldn’t do that to our sweet Hobi. I finally decided on Rosé and I feel like that was a good fit. I hope you thought so too.

I am so immensely grateful for all of you that have taken the time to like and reblog or even just stop and read my work. I love writing and I love BTS and the fact that I can combine the two just made this whole adventure that much more fun. This community has come to mean so much to me and I appreciate the support. I hope to continue to share my work with you all in the future. 

*Taehyung’s Summer Scrapbook will be going live tonight at 6:30pm PST*

Saranghaeyo, my fellow ARMY 💜

[puppetmasterblog]

For the glory of Merlin pt 2

With this world also starting a war, Jim and Claire retreat to Trollmarket. Cementing the idea that Jim is Dark, in the trio’s minds.

Voldemort, still angry at the Trolls for not joining him, attacks Jim after he’s invited to a meeting of all the other neutral parties. Jim fights before he flees, killing a few Death Eaters with Daylight. After escaping he sends an owl to Blinky, asking him to lock down Trollmarket, as the Death Eaters are coming. (Voldemort doesn’t know the exact location of Trollmarket but follows Jim instead.) Blinky and Claire, who does not return to Hogwarts for her seventh year, receive the letter and decide to listen. Blinky locks down, but Claire Apparates to Jim using him as an emotional anchor, like she used to do with her shadow staff. Together they tour the country, trying to escape Voldemort.

At one point, they run into Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Just after they’ve collected the real locket of Slytherin.

Jim hides as soon as he spots the others. Claire is greeted by Harry, who asks what she’s doing there. She answers, “We’re running from the Dark Lord.” Harry looked bewildered at the we, and she just nods like “Yeah, Jim and I.” Harry words are dripping with hostility, as he remarks that Jim probably wasn’t good enough for Voldemort.

(It’s kinda sad because this genuinely hurts Jim. Yes, he knew that he and Harry weren’t the best of friends but hearing him speak, so little of him hurts a lot.)

Harry doesn’t think they can trust Claire, as Jim is probably hiding somewhere nearby, and pulls out his wand. Now, don’t get me wrong, but even though Claire is a pretty great witch, Harry has more spells up his sleeve from the DA. Which Claire declined to join.

Jim’s Troll side comes to life as soon as Claire is endangered, and jumps in front of Claire. Startling everybody. He growls a bit before a soothing hand from Claire calms him down. Hermione is the one who recognizes him as Jim and puts the pieces together. Why he was terrible at spells, why he went to the forbidden forest, and why he needed to talk to Voldemort.

They all sit down round the campfire to explain what happened. The trio even gets a rundown of what happened in Arcadia.

Harry explains that they’re on a mission for Dumbledore. Jim, who still feels bad about the entire misconception offers his help, as he has some inside information about Voldemort. The trio agrees and they all brainstorm where the next Horcrux would be. Harry knows about the cup but doesn’t know where to find it. Jim perks up and says that he’s heard Bellatrix talking about Helga Hufflepuff’s cup in her Gringotts vault. (Jim has superhuman hearing and heard Bella bragging about it to Lucius.) Ron says that they can’t just waltz into Gringotts and grab the cup, but Hermione remarks that Harry is now Lord Black, as Sirius made him his heir.

Harry is afraid that the goblins will attack them, but Jim ensures that the goblins are neutral. And with him there, they won’t be able to contradict that statement. They are creatures of honor and will not betray a written contract. Then again, they do rat them out later.

They go to Gringotts and successfully get the cup, and Jim kills it with Daylight.

Now the question is, what is next? Claire remarks that something from Ravenclaw would be obvious, as he’s already gone through Slytherin, and Hufflepuff. That night, Harry has a dream about Voldemort going berserk after finding out that the cup is gone. He sees flashes of the remaining Horcruxes, Ravenclaw’s diadem, and Nagini.

He wakes up the others and says they need to go to Hogwarts as Voldemort’s army is coming and they need to destroy the diadem.

They Apparate as close to Hogwarts as they can, and Jim very consciously doesn’t go to Trollmarket. As his friends have already fought enough battles.

They get in after Claire and Ron find the pattern in the changing of the guards. There’s a two-minute gap where only the dementors are guarding Honeydukes. Jim unceremoniously kills them, and they slip in.

Once in the castle, they seek out McGonagall and alert her of Voldemort’s army. She rallies up all the students and staff that wish to fight and contacts the Order. She chases Snape and the other Death Eaters away, and prepare for battle. They have a little longer this time.

Harry and the gang go to the RoR, where they find the diadem but are foiled by Crabbe, Goyle, and a sick looking Draco. Jim stands up for Draco and tells him to go home and protect his family. Draco refuses as Jim is his only friends and won’t abandon him. Crabbe or Goyle is fed up with everything and unleashes the Fiendfyre on the room again. They both don’t make it out alive, and the Horcrux is killed.

Harry is once again assaulted by Voldemort in his mind and sees that Snape is dying down in the docks. He arrives, and Snape isn’t stupid in this timeline and has some antivenom in his pocket. He still cries and gives the tears to Harry, but he doesn’t die.

Harry goes back to the pensieve, figures out he’s the final Horcrux, and as soon as Voldemort does his one-hour thing, Harry’s off to the forest.

Meanwhile, Jim and Claire have been fighting against the Death Eaters. Jim sees Harry leaving towards the forest, and runs after him.

Funny thing is, now he gets why everybody was so mad at him when he went to the Darklands. He’s trying to stop Harry and rips of his Cloak of Invisibility.

But he’s too late as Harry has already given up and is about to be killed when Jim jumps in front of him and takes the hit.

Voldemort and his forces have never seen a Troll die, so they don’t know that Jim should turn to stone. Harry is too busy grieving that he doesn’t even see the second Killing Curse coming.

Harry dies but does his resurrection thing. They checked Jim, but he doesn’t have heartbeat they can feel. Harry is brought back, but Jim is left behind. Harry is very sad about Jim’s death but persists.

Jim wakes up a little while later like, fuck what hit me. Then he realizes that he’s still alive and goes back to Hogwarts with Harry’s cloak.

He hides for a while, but hears Harry’s heartbeat, and is relieved. He throws off the cloak, and onto Harry, and makes a distraction. Neville kills the snake, and Jim battles a crazy Dark Lord for a few moments.

Harry gets close enough and taunts Voldemort. The ending of the battle ensues.

Jim and Claire were able to prevent some deaths that were totally unnecessary. Lupin and Tonks are still alive, and so is Fred. Some others are dead, which is still sad but it’s not as bad as in canon.

The end.

Boom

[apvxoxo]

The Fantasy Sequence pt. 1

Alright this is my first attempt at a Jimmy fanfic.. Woah it was really fun to write. I hope you guys like it!! <3

I hadn’t had a gig doing makeup since August and it was now October. I had gotten the call about doing some special effects work on some sort of independent film.

If I’m being honest I really don’t like these no-name type movies, but at this point.. I’ll take what I can get.

I was just about to leave double checking my kit making sure I had just about everything I needed. I assumed the girl would have her own skin care preparation so I skipped out on that. And, that’s it. I’m ready.

I followed the directions exactly as the guy on the phone instructed, but as I continued to follow it seemed more and more suspicious. I mean how many movies do you know that get filmed up in some sort of creepy mountain-esque landscape.

What kind of shit am I getting myself into.

When I finally arrived toward the mountain I was greeted by.. no one. Typical.

They don’t exactly give a rats ass about the makeup department on movie sets. That, I had learned the hard way.

I carried my case and trailed upto where all the film crew seemed to be. I approached the man who looked as though he was in charge, you know the type. Yelling, pointing, obnoxiously british. 

“Excuse me, where should I..”

He silenced me by putting his fat finger in my face, he had a giant gold ring on each finger except the index. I just peered at it with big eyes. Someone must be making a decent living I guess,

“Just make sure the boys are taken care of, I won’t say it again. Their not a bunch of low budget actors you know, their bloody..”

“Yes I know Peter. You won’t let us forget it. Now just take it easy we have everything under control I assure you.”

I stood behind the man with the rings and I assumed he would adress me when he was finished. He finally turned around to face me and had his arms folded,

“Ahhh, and no, were not interested in girl scout cookies. Who even let you on the set anyway? This is a movie you know”

I couldn’t even fathom the statement that just left this big, greasy, mans lips. Girl scout cookies?

I’ve dealt with disrespect on set, but never to this degree. I straightened my back and took a deep breath,

“No. No sir, I’m here for the makeup actually. I’m sorry I haven’t got any cookies for you although, I’m sure the thought of food is consuming your very conscience.”

“Well, you’ve got a mouth on you don’t you. The boys ‘ll like that huh? Well right to the trailer over there. It should have the name Jimmy on it”

I grabbed a hold of my case and firmly walked over to the trailer, I confirmed the sign with the name Jimmy on it. There was also some sort of symbol on it, I couldn’t quite make it out.

Zoso?

Hm. Must be french or something.

The aluminum door opened expelling the smell of cigarette and light cologne. I saw a velvet pair of pants draped over the back of the chair. The whole vanity was empty except one box of cigarettes and a wooden base hairbrush.

Marlboro lights, I used to smoke the same ones.. I’m trying to quit.

I set my bag down and opened it on the counter. My instructor always told me to be ready for the client. So I began laying all my products along the vanity top. I sat waiting in the chair until the notorious Jimmy would show up.

I kept trying to rattle that symbol in my brain, where had I seen it before? A t-shirt? Some sort of foreign car company? No, none of that.

Just then the door busted open, in came a tall, dark haired, clearly distraught man.

Jimmy I presume.

He said nothing and reached for the cigarettes on the vanity, I immediately sat up from the chair, he knocked over my brush set and setting powder without hesitation,

“Hey, would you watch my stuff! This isn’t cheap you know!”

He lit the cigarette cuping his hand around the flame, he didn’t even acknowledge what he had done.

“Hello? Are you Jimmy? Or am I in the wrong trailer?”

He shook out the match and looked to me finally,

“No, you know what no. Someone else can be Jimmy for the day. I’ve about had it. Do you know how hard it is to do what I do? Huh? Do you?”

I just slowly shook my head in a neutral rotation eyes wide,

“Well don’t just bloody stand there! What do you think? What’s this all for. Why am I still putting up with the same old shit day after day huh? Have you got an answer or are you just going to keep looking at me with those baby eyes of yours?”

He gestured to his eyes with all fingers in a pinching stance,

“So..youre not Jimmy?”

He shaped his hand into a gun and put it up to his temple, he had this sarcastic grin on his face

“For god sake, yes alright. I’m Jimmy Page. Who are you anyway? I must tell you I’m in no mood if your one of Roberts little friends.”

Robert? What in the hell.

How much more unprofessional could this get.

“I’ll ask again, am I in the wrong trailer or are you Jimmy Page. I was requested to do makeup, that is what I intend to do. Enough of the run around.

 And if you wouldn’t mind..”

I grabbed the lit cigarette from his fingers, squishing the bud into the ashtray on the counter.

He said nothing now. Night and day from his attitude before, he sat slumped in the couch with his eyelids heavy and a slight grin.

“Don’t smoke around me. I’m trying to quit.”

I stood before him with my hands firmly on my hips.

He curled his tongue to his back teeth, the grin still apparent. He sat up slowly and grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the counter. Not taking his eyes off me his shook the pack upside down enough for two to slip out. He stuck the one into his mouth balancing it between his teeth. Raising his eyelids he looked to me handing me the other,

“I told you I’m trying to quit. I don’t want a cigarette.”

“C’mon, they calm you down don’t they? I know I get quite calm when I have one after a long, hard, day.”

Dick jokes already? What did I expect. You’ve been with one man, you’ve been with them all.

I had to shake the thoughts of smoking out of my head. No way was I going back on my word. I was not going to smoke one cigarette. Although, they do calm me down. And I have had a hard week. Maybe just a puff…

I grabbed the cigarette from his hand and peered at it with reluctance,

“Give me a light dammit’

I caved. He lit my cigarette and I savored the inhale. I blew the smoke from the left corner of my mouth and slumped onto the vanity chair. Crossing my legs in relief. I was in heaven.

“Now, isn’t that better. See we can calm down now. Together.”

“Me calm down? What about you, storming in here like a diva!”

He laughed while lifting his cigarette to his lips his eyes kind of lit up when he smiled, he does have nice brown eyes.

“Yeah well, I have had a long day. Things aren’t always peachy keene ‘round here darling. Say, how long have we got you booked for?”

“I was told on the phone an hour. But I still have yet to find who I’m even doing the makeup on, so who knows how long this will take”

He batted his eyes at me,

“I’m the one.”

“You? You don’t really seem like the type to wear makeup,”

“Well it’s not really makeup per say, more of a special effects costume. An allusion if you like”

“ Allusion? I’m not a magician Mr.Page”

“Ooo don’t call me that, makes me feel old. Jimmy is fine.”

How old is he?

“ Alright then, Jimmy. Let me have a look at you.”

I put out my cigarette and rolled up my sleeves. I always evaluate my client, I put my hand to his cheekbones and gently around his eye sockets. I could tell he was sleep deprived,

“Here why don’t you sit up at the vanity I need a better look at you. The lighting in here is something awful huh.”

He sat in the chair, I faced him to the window for some natural light, it was almost as if there was a light  glow surrounding him. His raven hair shined auburn against the almost setting sun. He shook his head back to move the hair from his face

“Is that better. Can you see alright?”

His eyes weren’t brown at all.. They were green. A deep green.

I cleared my throat and kept my hands softly to his temples,

“Yes. Yes, now I can see you.”

“And what is the verdict?”

He bit the inside of his cheek and formed a slight smile,

You’re absolutely breathtaking. What you want me to say that out loud? Please. I had to remain professional.

“Well, Jimmy. The verdict is you have lovely bone structure. And you need much more sleep than you’re currently getting.”

“I live in the night I guess.”

“What do you do anyway?”

He furrowed his brow and continued to bite the inside of his cheek,

“You really don’t know who I am?”

I was spun around facing the counter, on his response I slowly turned back to him.

“ You’re Jimmy Page. And you don’t like to be called Mr.Page? I assume you act in small productions, I don’t really.. I don’t study up on my clients if that’s what you’re asking”

He laughed, this time folding his arms to his chest.

“Have you ever heard of Led Zeppelin?”

That’s it! Zoso, I had seen it on my roomates album collection. Some album with a painting as the cover art.

“Yeah I have heard of them! They actually make some good music, wait. Do you think their on set? I have no idea what they even look like ..”

“Yeah I figured that much. What if I told you I was Jimmy Page, the guitarist of Led Zeppelin.”

“Well, I would tell you.. I don’t know what I would tell you.”

“How about this. What would you want the guitarist of Led Zeppelin to say to you?”

“I don’t, I don’t really know. Maybe tell me about himself and what inspires him.”

He raised his arms in the air caustically with a smile this time with teeth,

“Ask away, it will be great topic of conversation while you paint me up wouldn’t it?”

“ I suppose it would.. Why don’t you sit down and we could get started.”

He sat in the vanity chair and crossed his lanky legs. He lightly brushed the hair that cascaded his cheeks away with a swift motion of his fingers, hmm a guitar players hands.. Interesting

“So, what kind of allusion am I creating today?”

“Well, it’s a concept really. I’m supposed to be shown in different ages, as I climb up a mountain I reach the top to find an elderly version of myself.”

What in the hell. This guys off his rocker or maybe he’s a visionary,

“A bit odd no?”

“It’s supposed to be a fantasy darling, when the whole thing comes together it will be incredible. I have a vision.”

I rest my case.

“Some vision Jimmy, “

I proceeded to my kit and grabbed out my primer,

“Well, you’re very meticulous aren’t you. All your things laid out just for me.”

He looked to me with the same sarcastic smile,

“Yeah well I do this for all my clients don’t flatter yourself too much.”

I rubbed the product between my fingers and started to apply it to his cheekbones. He kept his eyes shut as I started,

“So, Jimmy what is the life of a guitarist like. I imagine very eventful,”

“Eventful, stressful, to name a few. I do like making music. Well of course I do why else would I do something if I didn’t like it.”

“For the money maybe? I can think of a million things I’d do that I didn’t like for the money you probably make”

Jimmy liked her because she couldn’t care less about who he was, in fact he quite admired her drive to do something more with herself.

“Money’s not everything you know, it loses a bit of it’s worth when you’ve just got so much of it.”

“Please, don’t sit here and tell me about how hard it is to have too much money.”

He chuckled and covered his cheek with his hand,

“Alright love. I guess you’re right. But all this money..and no one to share it with,”

I continued softly patting product around his brow bone, looking back down into his eyes

“You must have a girlfriend, or a wife or something?”

He pursed his lips shaking his head before responding,

“Nope. None of that.”

“A boyfriend? A pool boy?”

He immediately snapped his eyes open and smiled at me, he playfully shoved my shoulder

“What do you think I am! A bloody pool boy.. You’ve got a mouth on you don’t you.”

“That’s exactly what the director said to me outside! I’m beginning to think the girls you’re with are far too easy. They don’t give you any sort of challenge.”

“You’re probably right, and I do love a good challenge”

He sat up closer to me and shook his hair back once more,

“Yeah well, good. Because I’m not easily impressed either.”

“Is that right, than what does a guy have to do to impress you”

I still held a shred of professionalism under my belt. But a girl can only take so much,

“Well, I like dancing. You could take me dancing.”

“Dancing? That is a bit lackluster no? How about a surprise date. I take you wherever I want and we can learn all about one another. You entice me.”

“Get to know each other huh? Okay, but you have to hire me every time you need some cosmetic work, and pay me double. I’m dying to get my hands on that hair of yours.”

“Deal. And, my goodness. I didn’t even get your name..what was it then?”

“Monica,”

“Monica, I do like that name.”

[shenanigumi]

Another Tag Game~

Thanks for the tag, @annahakuouki​!! Looks like my Hakuōki followers are gonna have to put up with a bit more Personal Information, since you tagged me here~

Name: Laura, to everyone’s surprise, given my choice of username.

Nicknames: Alley or Alley Cat.

Gender: Cis female.

Zodiac: Double Aquarius with Aries rising, and boy does that explain a lot. I happened to be born on the last day before Pisces, which places me on the cusp… and also the last day before the Year of the Fire Rat, making me a Wood Boar (with Snake ascendant).

Height: 5′4.5″

Time: About 9:00pm.

Birthday: February 18, just like Saito. Coming right up, too!

Favorite bands: The Beatles, Caravan Palace, The Glitch Mob, beats antique, and… I like the few alt-j songs I’ve heard, and I’ve been listening to them a lot lately, so why not. Honorable mention.

Favorite solo artists: Panic! at the Disco/Brendon Urie, mostly. To be honest, I don’t really have enough favorite artists to draw lines between those with bands and those without.

Song stuck in my head: “Bloodflood”& “Bloodflood Pt. II” by alt-j. (Don’t worry, they’re a lot more chill than they sound.)

Last movie I watched: The 90s Metropolitan Opera production of Don Giovanni, with Bryn Terfel and Feruccio Furlanetto and lots of other good folk. It’s honestly a masterpiece; I first saw it when I was six years old.

Blog created: I think sometime in August 2016.

Last thing you Googled: …Lolicon… IT’S BECAUSE ZHOU YU IS MARRIED TO XIAOQIAO, OKAY.

Any other blogs: My ancient main blog, @alley-cat-sunflower​, and my much more recent side blog, @thestorytellersprotege​, reserved for things like my original prose and poetry. And deeper things in general, I guess. Still very much a work in progress, and most of the stuff I put up there is flawed, but… whatever. It’s a suitable enough arena for self-improvement.

Do I get asks: Sporadically, yes. Sometimes lots at once, sometimes next to none for months on end.

Why I chose my URL: This one? It’s a portmanteau of ‘shenanigans’ and ‘Shinsengumi’, which summarizes the primary content of this blog pretty handily. Alley Cat Sunflower is the result of an in-joke with my best friend, wherein Alley Cat was my secret agent codename, plus the name of my first cat (and a Grateful Dead song), “China Cat Sunflower”. But the Storyteller’s Protégé is… more personal, and too difficult to explain here.

Following: 542, apparently. I don’t really keep track.

Followers: …On this blog, 1074. What even.

Average hours of sleep: 8ish? Any less than that and I can’t function. Even 8 is borderline for me, but I’m too much of a night owl to take care of myself.

Instruments: I can noodle a few songs on my Ocarina of Time…? And I sing all the time, and I like to think I’m good. But I never had any formal lessons or classes or anything.

What am I wearing: Dark blue skinny jeans, my favorite 3/4-sleeved San Francisco Giants shirt, an orange Giants zipper hoodie, mismatched undergarments, and black socks.

Dream job: Writer/editor.

Dream trip: Japan on my adventurous days, Arcata on my normal days. Like this one. I’m feeling pretty partial to redwoods and rain right about now.

Favorite food: I can never pick one. I forget to eat all the time, anyway. Uh, probably these specific raspberry hard candies you can only buy at a place I haven’t been in years.

Nationality: U. S. of American.

Favorite song right now: I haven’t listened to it in some time, but the reigning king of the songs I love has been Panic! at the Disco’s “Don’t Threaten Me with a Good Time” since I first heard it back in summer 2016.

It being the last day of the first week of a new semester, I really don’t have the brainpower to go through and tag people. But if you want to do this, then please, please do this! I genuinely want to hear my followers’ answers; I just lack the mental energy to go through and call them to action. <3

[snastle]

New rescue rats: Edie, Tilly and Bluebell (one old abused girl and two pregnant fosters, one needs special care)

(I’ll get some pics shortly, they’re all exhausted right now and sleeping off a good meal.)

I adopted Edie yesterday, the old rat I was waiting on. She’s 3 years old at her owner’s estimate, and her two young cagemates were delivered to the rescue yesterday SEVERELY malnourished. (I mean every bone sticking out, they look like dogs from sad facebook videos. I can feel every vertebrae and rib and thier hips are like two rocks, it breaks my heart.) Apparently their food had been restricted to twice daily and was mostly peas and other things that seriously do not make up the high protein requirements of rats. By the smell and filth of their fur, the cage wasn’t being cleaned regularly either. They’d lived in a caravan with no vet care ever. She has a severe respiratory infection, I wasn’t sure she’d make it through the night after the stress of moving but she did! I’ve been making a supplemental food mix (which has been working, Hetty has been losing about 5g per two weeks the last month due to age/myco, but since I started on it she’s gained 5g since her last weigh and her conditioning is excellent) of eggs, tuna, creamed corn, coconut oil, and spinach, it’s a disgusting smelling wet porridge but the rats go wild for it. Poor Edie gulped it down all day yesterday, she just would not stop eating. She weighs 200g. For reference my smallest girl who hasn’t yet filled out into her adult body is 310. Edie just wants to be close. She’s slow and rickety, and gently climbs onto you just to lie down. She’s clingy, this close to the end, so I’ll be having her on me a lot, she’s in my sleeve while I type this. However long she has left she’ll at least have antibiotics, decongestant, food all the time, a clean cage and all the cuddles she wants, as well as someone to keep an eye out for the right time to have her PTS, which is important too. (Tilly’s cagemates are being rehabilitated at the shelter so they can hopefully be adopted out to a pet home one day, but Edie needs a gentle home and constant care for next next weeks/months of her life, so I took her.)

I also went on a road trip to get three other rats I’d seen a few days ago. A snake food breeder who realized she didn’t have the time or stomach for it had gotten rid of all her snakes and feed rats, and had three rats who were pets that she wanted to rehome. Only problem was, they were two girls and a boy, all in the same cage. FFS. So she was refusing to sell as food, but nobody would take them as pets because of the pregnancy, they were screwed and in poor living conditions, as the owner has a special needs daughter who had fallen sick, adn couldn’t care for the three pet rats any longer. The shelter owner did the driving, and I paid for the rats. They were in a tiny empty cage being fed bird seed plus whatever dinner scraps were left. Not good. The boy is very undersized for his age (likely due to the awful diet) but seems healthy enough. I gave him to the shelter, he’ll be screened and rehomed probably very quickly, as he’s beautiful, young and snuggly. The girls I’m fostering while they give birth. The plan is that I’ll take them through it, raise the babies as pets and rehome them myself or through the shelter. But these girls have some issues, which is part of why I needed to grab them, nobody would have taken them. Bluebell is a ‘blue’, a desirable and recessive coat colour that feeder breeders often use to make an extra buck on the side from blue babies. She had her tail snapped in a cage door long ago, and has a kink and a scar there. She has a mild RI but is a beautiful, gentle and inquisitive girl, I think I might adopt her after the birth. (Lets be real, I was always going to get attached.)

Tilly is Bluebell’s daughter, she’s special needs. She has a head tilt that she was apparently born with (meaning it’s most likely a brain tumor rather than damage from infection) which makes her walk in circles and fall when she climbs. Apparently she was withheld as a pet instead of snake food because the owner thought the tilt was cute. -.- She’s nervous because of this, and very underweight. She explores things by test biting, (which I’m okay with in her case), and although the breeder said she nips and attacks, I’ve been gentle with her and careful not to startle her and I haven’t had any problems at all. Bluebell is definitely pregnant, already starting to show, and although Tilly isn’t showing yet she almost certainly will be. Tilly is struggling to integrate with my rats because of how nervous she is, even a gentle sniff has her screeching, which riles my girls up until they start actually being upset and dominant. I’m doing slow intros but for now the three new girls are in a separate cage. I’m not keen on rehoming Tilly, as she needs special care for her tilt, but she’s accounted for, if she can’t live with my girls she’ll go in with the two pets of the rescue owner, one of which has a tilt herself (but whose quality of life is still good, obv.) and the other who has a birth defect. So long as her quality of life remains worth living, she’ll stay with one of us.

I will likely have to put the girls on antibiotics at some point, which means hand-raising the babies since the meds come through in the milk and will harm them. I can’t medicate them while they are pregnant, but after the birth I’ll make the call about which option puts them and the babies more at risk based on how they're doing. I can foster these girls because I just got on holidays from uni, since raising requires 2 hourly feeds of sucking milk off a tiny paintbrush, and rubbing their little bellies with a wet cotton bud to make them digest and poop, etc etc. However the situation pans out I’m really glad these girls got out of the situations they were in, and I’m looking forward to seeing them all (hopefully) recover and gain condition.

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

Nichovich (pt 2 - NSFW)

For those who have asked, this is a Gallavich fic - there will be Gallavich and plenty of it - eventually. Hang tight and let me know what you think. I write stuff to entertain you guys as well as myself. xx 

Mickey wakes in the morning to find his face is covered in something that feels like cobwebs and one of his arms is trapped. He rubs a hand over his face, grunting irritably and blinking into full awareness.

“The fuck?”

Nicky is curled up against him, her ass pressed against his belly, using his left arm as a pillow. Her hair has exploded from the hood she tucked it into the night before and is all over him in a riot of red-gold tangles.

Mickey clucks his tongue against his teeth and begins to extricate himself. He hasn’t slept beside a woman since Svetlana finally accepted Ian and moved out of his bed for good and long before that she has stopped trying to cuddle up to him. Mickey simply wouldn’t tolerate more than a minute or two of awkward petting whilst she tried to arouse him into some sort of action before he would either leave or roll onto his side, turning his back on her.

Their wedding night had been the most difficult because she felt so fucking obligated to seal the deal and Mickey had just let her do whatever the fuck she wanted because his mind had been with Ian and the amazing sex they had just before he pledged himself to another.

“I’m too drunk to fuck.”

“I will help you.”

“No, just … just leave it alone.”

“No, I am your wife! I will help ...”

Mickey had lain on the fake rose petal covered sheets, tux pants around his ankles, watching as Svetlana knelt over him, squeezing her breasts and shaking her ass, tugging with futile determination at his limp dick with experienced fingers. Mickey had tried to get himself hard, tried thinking of broad shoulders and narrow hips, just to get it over with. But he hadn’t been able to muster so much as a semi with Svetlana’s lips against his skin.

“Your father always manages, no matter how drunk!”

“Oh sure, by all means put that mental image in my head right now, that oughta help the situation a lot.”

Mickey had snapped and then laughed at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. He had laughed until tears trickled from the corners of his eyes, rolling down into the shell of his ears, muffling the wet sounds of Svetlana’s renewed efforts.

Eventually she had huffed in frustration and lain down next to him with a muttered Russian curse; smoothing her dress and informing him that his stupid little broken dick did not mean she was not a citizen now.

“Congratulations. You’re a fuckin’ card carryin’ apple pie eatin’ cowgirl now. Good for you.”

Mickey retorted, tugging his pants back up and rolling onto his side, closing his eyes and feigning sleep until Ian’s face swam to the forefront of his mind and carried him away into a dream.

Nicky gives a small whimper beside him, grip tightening on his jacket sleeve and Mickey loses his patience, yanking his arm out from underneath her with a sharp tug.

The air in the van is seriously fucking cold and Mickey knows the only reason he slept so well is because there was a warm body against him. He feels more rested than he has in days despite the beginnings of a hangover lurking around the edges of his eye sockets.

He needs to shower because today is the day he’s going to make his move and he wants to look as good as he can for Ian. Mickey squints into the cracked, rust flecked shaving mirror and grimaces. His hair looks fucking awful but his mug shot is all over Southside so he can hardly just walk into a barbers!

Mickey shakes his head, jaw clenched, and picks up his cigarettes from the foot of his bed. He’s fucking insane. He must be, because he is risking everything on the fucking off chance that someone who hardly ever visited him, never wrote and generally pretended he didn’t exist for over a year, might still be interested enough to run away to fucking Mexico with him.

Fuckin’ Gallagher!

If the prick had maybe shown up once in a while Mickey could have gauged what his reaction to this whole thing might be and the whole thing could have run a lot fucking smoother! On the other hand, Ian had completely ignored him and Mickey was still crazy enough to pull this sort of shit, so really what kind of signal would Mickey have actually accepted?

“You’re gonna get a lungful of filter if you’re not careful!”

Nicky is sitting up and rubbing what is left of her eyeliner into the creases of her eyes. Mickey glances down at the tiny stub of his cigarette and scowls, wiping it out against the sole of his boot in a streak of ash.

“Want one?”

“Sure. Normally I like to have coffee first but I’m guessing you didn’t pack an espresso machine when you fled the mansion, huh?”

“What the fuck are you … you know what? Don’t care. You want coffee, go out and get it your fuckin’ self.”

“Got any cash?”

“I’m not buyin’ you breakfast.”

Mickey grouches and Nicky grins broadly at him

“Sure you are. You could have frozen to death but I made the sacrifice to share my body heat with your scrawny ass.”

“You mean you decided to barge into my bed and get your fuckin’ rats nest all over my face?”

Nicky pushes her tongue into her bottom lip and gives her apparently nameless friend a long level look.

“Why are you such a moody asshole?”

“Questions like that make you a whole lotta friends or …?”

Mickey lets the question trail off as he rummages through his small pack of things looking for scissors or a razor, anything he can use to try and neaten up his hair.

“I’m going to get coffee, when I get back, you can tell me what has you all … possum again.”

Nicky shifts herself from the bed and kicks the doors open. Mickey hastily turns his back, instantly livid. There could have been a fucking patrol car out there! Whatever this bitch is running from, she clearly isn’t expecting to be found in Chicago. Careless moron! Just like Ian! Fuckin’ careless and messing with the neatness of Mickey’s life before hopping out the door and disappearing.

“Close the fucking door! Are you some sort of fuckin’ retard?”

He growls and Nicky does so, eyeing him curiously.

“Don’t want the world to see that happy smile?”

“Fuck you. You said you’re wanted? Maybe act like it.”

“Oh, like you are? You a jail bird too?”

Mickey gives up on finding the scissors and spins on his heel, grabbing Nicky by the front of her hoodie and dragging her up onto her toes in the small space

“You breathe one fuckin’ word about what you think you know, and I promise you will not have to worry about the cops finding you anymore.”

Their noses are less than an inch apart and Nicky pushes her face closer still, baring her teeth in a furious scowl

“Take your fucking hands off me while you still have them.”

Mickey tugs a little harder on her hoodie and then twists sharply, catching the knee she brings up against the flat of his thigh.

“That the best you got, bitch?”

He is looking at her intently but there is no threat of actual violence. Nicky has been around enough violent men to recognise when one is about to lash out. If anything, this kid is trying to provoke her into hurting him and whilst that is all levels of fucked up, it is actually quite reassuring.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question!”

He snaps and Nicky makes a disgusted sound at the back of her throat, rolling her eyes. She hasn’t spent a lot of time around little boys, but she knows the build up to a temper tantrum when she sees one. Best way to stop a toddler having a melt down? Give ‘em a little shock.

She throws herself forward and presses her lips to Mickey’s, flicking her tongue along his bottom lip in a deep kiss.

“What the FUCK?!”

Mickey lets go of her instantly and staggers back against the makeshift shelving, wiping his hand roughly over the back of his mouth.

“Yeah that’s what I thought. Listen, you want to get into a fight, go find someone your own size. That’s about my size but with a bit more dick attached in case you aren’t sure.”

Nicky holds her finger and thumb up, about an inch apart to highlight just how small she thinks the appendage in question must be and Mickey eyes her with something as close to bashfulness as he can get.

“Fuckin’ psycho.”

He mumbles but the fire has gone out of him and Nicky huffs an impatient breath. She has no idea why she likes this little fucker but she actually does. Nicky isn’t stupid, especially not when it comes to her own motivations, recovering from addiction, relapsing and recovering again, multiple times leaves one with a certain awareness of incentives within one’s own psyche. Nicky’s situation is currently a tiny bit fucked up. She has escaped prison and fled, via a series of trains, countless hitch-hiking and walking in her sturdy, prison issue boots, to get to Chicago. Now she is here she has no fucking clue what to do with herself and so she is latching on to compulsively take care of this nameless, heart-broken man until she can figure out what to do for herself. It’s shitty, but it’s not a needle in her arm or a view from behind bars, so it’ll do.

“How do you take your coffee? Black? White? Sweet?”

“Black. Sweet if they have the vanilla shit. Thanks.”

Mickey twitches his nose and thumbs his lower lip, which is still tingling from the kiss. Unpleasant as it was, it is the first kiss Mickey has had in quite some time and it has brought back a hundred little memories of Ian that he can’t process with someone else watching him and he really wants Nicky to leave.

“Check the door this time.”

“Uh … yeah I got that that is kinda important to you. Should I knock three times and hoot like a barn owl when I get back?”

“You should go fuck yourself, that’s what you should do.”

Mickey quips, digging a crumpled five-dollar bill out of his pants pocket and shoving it at her. At this point, Ian is filling up his mind and body so completely that he doesn’t much care if there is an entire fleet outside the van, he needs Nichols to fuck off pronto so that he can get his hands in his pants and relive every kiss that Ian ever gave him.

“Whatever. Back in a bit.”

Nicky uses the crudely cut little spyhole to peer outside and then opens the door again, hopping out lightly and closing it behind her.

Mickey flips the little plastic catch, tugging at his belt before the metallic click of the lock has even silenced. He lays back on the airbed, shoving his jeans over his hips, releasing his dick which is practically throbbing with need and letting it hover above his belly whilst he plunges a hand into his bag. He finds what he wants almost instantly and pulls the folded photo out, smoothing it carefully before holding it above his head and looking into the bright green eyes peering out of it. Ian is flipping off the camera as he always had, smirking his same smirk and looking so damn hot in his grey tee and beanie combo that Mickey can hardly stand it.

He closes his eyes and wraps his free hand around the shaft of his cock, covering the slit with his thumb. The memory of Ian’s lips against his own is so powerful he finds himself licking compulsively along the swell of his lower lip, expecting to taste the unique flavour of his redheaded lover.

Ian’s name is wrenched from his lips as his fingers apply greater pressure and his wrist begins pumping faster and harder. God! Mickey wants it hard. He wants it good and hard, he wants to be pounded into submission by Gallagher and left in a puddle at his huge fucking feet. He wants to feel his insides turn to jelly and the almost painful stretch of his flesh as he takes every inch Ian cares to give him. He wants to feel Ian’s teeth at his neck and hear the rasping struggle of his breath as he comes close to finishing. He wants to see those beautiful hands gripping his and smell the scent of him flush on the air around them.

Mickey convulses and shudders as his orgasm rocks him off the bed, his ass peeling away from the plastic with a wet sticking sound. He lies there until his heart has stopped trying to explode out of his chest, then slowly sits up, and grabs a scrap of fabric from the floor, wiping his hands and belly on it.

Mickey chucks it in the far corner and tips a little water from his bottle over his palms to get rid of the rest of his mess.

He needs to get himself fucking sorted. He’s going to show up to see Ian covered in the dirt of days on the road, his hair a matted fuckin’ mess and now stinking of stale jizz too? Fuck sake.

Mickey grabs a burner phone from his stash and punches in the number he has memorised. It’s time to get a plan together and go meet Gallagher.