#speaking of books every day i regret selling all my ag books

[primeministerofantarctica]

when omgthatdress gets to kit i won't apologize for the amount of posts im reblogging

[nineteenninety-six]

A Little Bit of Sunshine

↳ Hector x Reader

↳ Word Count: 3.09k

↳ Requested by @shadechu​

A/N: I have never written for Castlevania before but I really enjoyed writing this, it flowed so easily. Hector is probably OOC but who cares lol. 

Anyway, enjoy :D

Hector had moved to a small town after everything had gone down with Lenore. After she died he realised how much damage she caused him, the lasting marks of her abuse and manipulation still scarred his body and mind and he could no longer stay in a place where they had lived and she had died.

The fact that he managed to escape the bond she had on him and that he was able to deceive her was only able to sustain him for a short while before everything fell apart and Hector was no longer able to act as if everything was okay, so he left and started anew.

The new town was on the smaller side but not small to the point where he would stand out. He easily blended into bustling crowds in the town centre and the residents treated him like any other local. For the first time in a long time, he felt normal, as working for Dracula was an experience that words couldn't explain.

He had his own little cabin in the woods where he could be at peace and the distance to the town centre was far but long enough for him to enjoy the sights as he walked past. All in all, he liked this new path of his life, it was almost completely different than it used to be and he expected to miss it but he enjoyed the calmness and serenity of this new path of his life.

On his usual weekly trip to town, someone called out to him, trying to catch his attention. it was a young woman, probably the same age as him and she was calling for his attention, waving him over to her stall.

"Sir! Sir!"

Hector looked up in surprise and as soon as the woman realised she had his attention a bright smile overtook over her face before she eagerly began to wave him over, swinging her arms back and forth over her head, gathering the attention of the other people around them.

Hector quickly shuffled over to them not wanting her to cause an even bigger scene and pull more attention their way.

"You're new aren't you?" Was the first thing out of her mouth.

Hector flinched in shock at her words, not expecting them. No one else knew he was new and that put him on edge.

"Oh don't look so surprised, I just know everyone that comes here."

Hector raises a brow at her words, " ... That's weird. You do realise that right?"

The woman shrugs, "Maybe but it makes for good business. People are more likely to buy something if I remember them from just previously meeting."

Hector realises that he's standing in front of a stall filled with baked goods, "You're a baker?"

"Family business," She clarifies, “I mostly do the selling due to my - "

"Charm?" Hector cuts in with a sarcastic tone.

"Actually, I was going to say my good looks but yes charm too." The woman grins.

Hector couldn't help but bark out a laugh, the woman never missed a beat.

"I'm (Y/N) in case you wanted to know" (Y/N) informed him with a wink.

Hector had to twist his lips so that the smile that so desperately wanted to escape, couldn't.

"Hector" He introduced himself.

"Well Hector, what can I get you? " (Y/N) asked, gesturing to the spread of baked goods in front of her.

Oh, she was smart. Catching his attention, making him come over to his stall and

converse with her in front of everyone and now he could surely not been seen walking away with nothing after taking up her time. While he didn't really care about the local’s opinions about him, he didn't want to be outcasted more than he already was.

"I'll have a loaf and a sweet pie please"

(Y/N) shoots him a bright smile and packs up his items, then collects his money.

"Thank you, Hector. I hope to see you again soon"

"I'll see you again" Hector responded

As he began to walk back home, Hector thought back on how easily (Y/N) made him feel at ease, how he brought a smile to his face and drew laughter from and he got scared.

This is how Lenore got her claws in him, she manipulated and lied to him before tricking him into servitude and he never wanted something like that to ever happen again.

He decided for the health of his mind, he would keep his distance from (Y/N). He couldn't find it in himself to completely ghost her and ignore her so he'll keep cordial. He'll be friendly but he couldn't let himself become close to her.

.•° ✿ °•.

His plan worked well, every time he went up to town he stopped by her stall and bought what ended up being his usual order of a loaf and a sweet pie, engaged in small talk with (Y/N) before leaving and it worked well for weeks until he had a dream about Lenore one night.

A mere dream had knocked him off-kilter. He had awoken a mess and fell out of his bed in his confused and frantic attempt to escape his blankets. He only managed to crawl a few paces before collapsing on the cold floor, his remaining energy only enough to let him roll onto his back. Hector blinked lazily up at the ceiling as everything he had locked away came rushing back. He relived the moment when he fell for her, the moment he realised that she had tricked him, the moment when she realised he betrayed her and then when she had died by her own will.

Everything that had occurred over the last few years played in front of his eyes and he hated every part of it. He could never forgive himself for being so naive and trusting yet he missed those traits of his.

When he 'awoke' again, the sun was moving low, signifying sunset wasn't far away. He pulled himself up and washed his face at the basin before he left his cabin, his feet taking him into town. The town centre was still busy despite the late hour and so was she, the woman who he came to see.

Despite the other stall owners who had either left or were in the process of doing so, her stall was still set up with what remaining items she had left. She was sitting on a stall with a book on her lap in a different world and Hector felt bad about disturbing her but he needed her.

He didn't even have to call her name, as soon as he was a few feet away, she looked up at him with a smile and closed her book shut, though when she got a proper look at him, her smile faltered.

"Hector?" She made her way over to him, brow furrowed in concern, "Is everything okay?"

He must look like a mess. He certainly felt it on the inside and he had been in a trance since he woke up, not paying any attention to his looks.

"I... um, I -" Hector stumbled over his words, his tongue suddenly heavy.

"Why don't you take a seat" (Y/N) guided Hector to her stall and offered him some water from the pouch at her side.

Seeing that he was in no position to talk about what happened, (Y/N) changed the topic slightly, "I thought you were not coming today. I got so used to seeing you, it would be a shame if I did not see you."

"But do not fret, I set aside your usual order for you," She said as she showed him a little wrapped up basket.

Hector nodded, the change in conversation took the pressure off his shoulders and he felt more at ease to speak.

"What do you do with the ones you do not sell? "He asked

"Today these are going to the homeless. I usually alternate between them, the orphanage and poor families"

"That is kind of you. Nobody did anything like that when I was young"

"I think the world is horrible enough with the wars and death and it costs nothing to do a little good within your own community" (Y/N) then looked up at the sky and noticed the changing colours, “Do you want to come with me as I give these out?”

Desperate for more of a distraction, Hector agrees and he helps her clear up her stan before they set off to a different part of town, him carrying the basket of baked goods for the homeless.

“Do you have any family, Hector?” (Y/N) asked.

Hector shook his head, his grey hair swishing around his chin as he did so, “Just me”

“Hm, well if you want any annoying younger siblings, I’ll eagerly give you all of mine”

“Surely they’re not that bad-”

(Y/N) lets out a laugh, “One day I’ll take you to meet them. You’ll regret your words!”

As they walked around, handing the food to the less fortunate, Hector noticed the strange way (Y/N) behaved. Her head constantly twitched one way to the other, as if someone was calling for her attention but she stopped herself before fully turning around to see and her eyes were flickering about like seeing things that weren’t there.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?” Hector asked

(Y/N) froze when he spoke, looking at him with wide eyes, she twisted her head around to make sure no one was nearby before she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hidden alcove.

There was fear in her eyes as she gripped his hands tightly, “I am telling you this because I trust you but you cannot tell anyone or they will kill me.”

“(Y/N)...?”

(Y/N) casts one more precautionary look around her before speaking, “I can speak to animals”

Hector blinked in surprise, that was the last thing he expected.

“You...speak to animals?”

“Speak, understand, you know the whole thing”

“...The whole thing?” Hector repeated after her.

(Y/N)’s shoulder slumped in disappointment at his words, “You do not believe me. Of course, you don’t, I sound like a crazy woman.”

“No, no!” Hector was quick to reassure her, “I don’t think you’re crazy, of course not.”

(Y/N) gripped Hector’s hands tighter in relief and he suddenly realised that they had not stopped holding hands since she had dragged him. Her hands were soft but strong and steady and they fit perfectly in his, he never wanted to let go.

“I could do since I was a child and I told my parents but they thought I was a child with a large imagination so they ignored me,” (Y/N) began to elaborate on her talent, “And when I was ten there was a witch-burning in our old town, an older woman was accused of conjuring spirits and setting against the people of the village but in reality, she was just a sick old woman who needed help. After that, I knew I couldn’t let anyone know about you know what”

“Why did you tell me?” Hector asked.

“...I don’t know. There’s something about you, so understanding, empathetic, trustworthy. I know I can trust you.”

(Y/N) had revealed her deepest secret to him, made herself vulnerable yet he could not do the same to her, though the ability to communicate with animals was much different than being a forgemaster.

“You can trust me, I promise I will not tell anyone.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders relaxed and she gave him a brief smile, “Your belief in me means more than you know.”

“Now,” Hector lifted the basket up, “Should we finish what we started?”

It had progressively gotten darker, the sun only moments away from going down completely.

“Of course! We must finish before it gets too dark.” (Y/N) stepped out of the alcove and hurried down the street, dragging Hector behind her, still holding on to his hand.

-

It was dark by the time they began to walk home, Hector insisting on walking her home so that she wasn’t alone at night. She stopped in front of a little cabin, not unlike his, it also wasn’t that far away from his.

“You don’t live with your family?” Hector asked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “It is better for me this way. I love my family, truly but the chance of them finding out about me is something I can’t risk. I cannot truly say that they wouldn’t expose me… there are some things that are beyond even family ties.”

“Anyway,” (Y/N) spoke with a sigh, “It is late, I need to sleep. Thank you for today, Hector. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hector waited until (Y/N) had reached her door and spoke again, “Can we...meet again soon?”

(Y/N) gave him a toothy smile, “Of course. In two days by the lake? I can bring a picnic for lunch.”

Hector nodded, “I’ll see you then.”

He waited until her door closed before he made his way home, his heart feeling happy. He had forgotten how he felt earlier that day and (Y/N) had completely turned his day around. He did feel guilt though, he went to for help, a distraction which she provided and then she revealed a deep secret of hers yet he couldn’t even tell her about his nor his past with Lenore or history with Dracula and being a forgemaster. The things he carried were heavy yet (Y/N) had already been so understanding and kink that he didn’t fear telling them to her, he knew she would understand.

In two days at the picnic, he would tell her.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) was already by the lake by the time he arrived, speaking out loud to someone he couldn’t see but when he heard the responding barks and yelps, he realised that she was talking to a dog. He hurried his pace to catch up to her, excited to see her communicate to animals in person.

“Is that a dog you’re speaking to?” He shouted as he jogged over to her.

(Y/N) spun around with a smile, “Yes! I’ll introduce you to him!”

She crouched down and took the dog into her arms before turning towards him after he finally reached her,

“Hector this is- Cezar”

“-Cezar”

Hector and (Y/N) spoke at the same time. Hector stared at the dog he had not seen since Carmilla had dragged him away after Dracula died and (Y/N) stared at Hector, surprised he knew the little mongrel dog.

Cezar eagerly barked at Hector, his tiny body wriggling in excitement as he tried to escape (Y/N)’s hold, so she let him down and watched as he raced over to Hector barking like mad and when Hector kneeled down, the door jumped into his arms and wiggled some more.

“...So I guess you know each other then?” (Y/N) asked.

“Cezar is my dog,” Hector explained, giving the small dog rubs and pats, “I got separated from him a while ago but how did you meet him?”

“We stumbled across each other last year and then we became close companions...but I’ve always been curious about something about him.”

“Is it that he looks like he should be dead?”

(Y/N) laughed, “Yes, Hector. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little dog but he looks a bit beyond his years.”

Hector put Cezar down and together they began walking towards the lake so they could set up their picnic.

He took a deep breath before he began to explain what he could do, “I’m a forgemaster.”

“Forgemaster? What’s that?”

Of course, she wouldn’t know what that was, her world was not the same as his.

“I can bring back animals and humans from the dead and call demons from hell.”

“Wow...that’s uh...wow”

“I’m sorry for dumping this on you, I know it’s quite heavy stuff.”

“I did not know that was possible”

“Many don’t. It’s beyond comprehension.”

“If I wasn’t looking at proof right now” (Y/N) pointed towards Cezar who was trotting ahead of them, “I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“Is that what caused you such distress the other day?” (Y/N) asked as they found a place to sit down.

“No, no, that was about Lenore.”

(Y/N) kept quiet allowing Hector to speak at his own pace.

“I was taken captive, stuck in a cell and Lenore gained my trust, pretending that she was someone that I could trust only to betray me and me her slave to her and her sisters. I was under their or more specifically her control for over a year until I managed to trick her and end the ‘bond’.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Dead. She was a vampire and decided it was her time to go.”

“Did you love her?” (Y/N) asked

“No, I don’t think I did. After I realised what she had done to me any feelings that I may have had disappeared, they were not formed authentically. I still feel incredibly stupid about the whole thing, I was foolish to believe someone who was involved in sisterhood with the person who captured me would genuinely care for me.”

“You were not foolish, you were human Hector '' (Y/N) comforted him, “You were vulnerable and she took advantage of that, you should not feel ashamed. You are strong that’s why you’re here with me right now and Lenore is no longer alive. You will never be proud of yourself if you keep on diminishing what you’ve achieved so far. You’ll never be happy and I want you to be happy”

Hector takes her hand in his, “I want to be happy.”

(Y/N) smiles at him, “You will be, I know you will.”

“I want to be happy with you”

“Oh-” (Y/N) smile changes into a softer one that tickles Hector’s heart, “I want to be happy with you too.”

“Imagine it,” Hector falls onto his back and tugs (Y/N) down with him, “You, me, Cezar in a cabin in the woods and all the animals you wish to speak to”

(Y/N) laughs, “You wouldn’t believe how chatting animals are, I’m fine with just being me you and Cezar for the moment.”

Cezar jumps up on Hector’s chest with a bark before settling down with a huff.

“Sounds like he agrees”

[profound-jade]

Cloud Sea and Gold Blood

First post on Tumblr! Very very inspired by Sagau writers like @nicebonescomrade @crystalizedlegend @veritaoscurata and many many others, thank you all for the great works, and criticism is very welcomed. Do try to enjoy :D

Warning, Slight angst, kind of yandere, Oc, might be a bit bad for people going through existential crisis I think? , might be cringey for some as well lol, tried to be emotional but could be edgy.

‘If your problem can’t be solved with money, then you simply aren’t using enough of it’ That was a line I had once read in a book before, and despite the book’s rather bizarre setting, this is a philosophy I both wholeheartedly agree with and live by, even now to this day. 

Not because I think money can solve all the problems in life of course, rather, it reflects my way of doing things. That is, to simply dedicate everything to one aspect of yourself. 

Ever since I was a young girl, I remember hearing the tales of rich and powerful living out their lives to the fullest. Glorious and romantic stories of adventures, tales of success, all of that tugged at my heart as it did with any other child. Well, honestly speaking, it was the money aspect that made me giddy the most. Stories and myths to me are an ideal. 

A heroic story of adventures represents the author’s ideal for the thrill of exploring the unknown and challenging dangers. A romantic love story overcome with trials and tribulations is one in which the authors wants in their own personal ideal of what is love. It is the very reflection of what they consider to be “perfect”.

I figured out my feelings and learned this at quite the young age, as the romantic stories of the high class such as the Liyue Qixing wrapped me in a deep dark veil of slumber every night. Well, though it may sound vulgar, the most important part of the stories was the “money” aspect. I...don’t consider myself “greedy” by normal comparison, what I meant by the money aspect, I meant the treasures. Gold bars heavier than sacks of rice, gems brighter than the lanterns up in the sky during the Lantern Rites at the harbour, artifacts older than my own nation even, but, it was the “Vision” that I loved the most. Infatuated even.

Not that I wanted the power or anything, no no, I just loved the feel of having those treasures. Think about it, a vision is the very symbol of the heavens and gods recognizing you, imagine all the envy towards an individual with it. 

Humans are very superficial and subjective, and I don’t think that’s anything bad or right, it’s just what we are, and as such, we should alongside it. Which is why I don’t think my feelings are all that wrong either, the simple thrill of things being...special.

To me, it’s something I’ll never give up. Finding a cool-shaped rock and showing it off to people, catching a bigger beetle, catching a better-looking butterfly, dressing up to look unique. I do remember thinking I was simply doing these things because I craved attention and was a narcissist, but no, even when I was alone, I just loved having special things.

Since I always wanted special possessions, I naturally choose a career that’ll help me get it, merchant. Believe it or not, I actually grew up alongside the Tianquan, Ningguang. Back when we were first starting, she would gather up many many shells on the beach to sell, whilst I would gather up the ones I like, the shape, quality, colour, all that. Make no mistake, what she did is completely all right, in fact, she made more money than I did, but you know, this is just how I do things and I don’t regret it. She’s more wealthy for her way, but my goal isn’t money, it’s the simple ideal.

I will not betray my way of life doing things, my way of life. I have felt that I was stubborn, that I was wrong but even then, I endured all those doubts all the way until my way of life paid off.

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

It had been a pleasant day in the western mountains of Liyue, where Yuyun was busy scaling trying to find even more exotic treasures. She was no amateur at this, nearly a decade of borderline insanity of pursuit for treasures had left her travelling all across Teyvat every waking moment of her day. Setting sail to Inazuma, smuggling texts from Sumeru which she had actually paid the market price for, finding out the existence of wine nearly a century old in Mondstadt. There was even a time when she had planned trying to steal the Holy Lyre, but decided that having her head still on her neck was a bit more important, and she really did mean a bit. 

“Ergh” Yuyun grunted, pulling herself up from the side of the cliff and onto a small ledge. The first she did after her head peaked over, was check to see what she wanted was there. And sure enough, there it was. “He he he, come to mommy~” 

She laughed greedily, mustering up newfound strength, she pulled herself up in one go. A shiny red contraption laced in metal was impeded into the other side. Due to the positioning of the other mountains, it was impossible to see this from the ground. She pulled out a green key and inserted it into the contraption and an audible sound of pegs and gears moving could be heard to her well-trained ears that were used to spy on important figures for information. 

A chunk of ground in front of her opened up and a beautifully decorated treasure chest popped up. Yuyun’s mischievous grin grew even more than how it was already. She felt the texture of the chest and knew instinctively it was a “Luxurious Chest”. Popping it open, she was able to discern the most valuable ones in just one glance, the rest was left int here like scraps even though it would easily sell for a bundle at the market.

“Amazing haul as usual today, though I must say I really did outdo myself this time. As expected of me, haha.” She knew damn well she says that on a regular basis, but who’s to stop her? Finding the location of an ancient temple all by herself with just a few poorly translated notes from ancient times was more than impressive, even more so by the fact she never once did seriously contemplate going home during the entire she slaved away trying to get the treasure.

As she made her way down the mountain, this time easily with a rope, a familiar sound of wings flapping could be heard. An eagle perched itself on her shoulder, a slip of paper attached to his leg. This is a specially trained eagle for quick Ling distance messaging and all info were provided associates that Yuyun has careful selected over the years. “Oh my~ Did some idiot got caught with a scandal again? Too bad I wasn’t able to properly profit on Eula’s uncle cooperating with the Fatui, I really did want to blackmail him for some famed treasures in their household.”

Jumping down onto the ground, she opened up the mail and quickly read through it, many many emotions settling within her. An imposter had shown up in Teyvat, falsely impersonating their beloved Creator. Same features, same clothes, same everything even the voice was close to what had been passed down in poems praising them. Though she was not fanatically religious due to her strange pursuit, anger still boiled in her veins at the thought of someone daring to impersonate their creator. It was a natural feeling everyone in Teyvat felt due to the special connection everything across Teyvat has with them.

Right now, she wants nothing more than pain to be inflicted onto the faker, but as her eyes were slowly seeing red, she slapped herself in the face and quickly sat down. She absolutely refuse to make any decisions when clouded by anger, this was something she made sure to follow since childhood as she had lost far too many valuable treasures due to greed, anger, and impulses. 

Yuyun popped a misty lily into he mouth and calmed herself down with a couple deep breaths. As much as the situation angered her, her way of life persevered and just as it had done thousand so times before in the past, allowed her to “see”. 

She pulled out some sugar cubes and threw them into her mouth, allowing her mind to think faster. Everything for her was a “product”, a person is a product of themselves and their predecessors, a fruit is the product of many months of hard labour and care, everything has a meaning. This impostor...was interesting. Subconsciously, she found a chill tingle up her spine. Something of this calibre, able to attract the attention of all of Teyvat by just existing... something so special...She needs to see it with her eyes. 

“A--------lright. I really needed that. Otherwise who knows how long it would’ve taken for me to get back into my senses. After all...” She stood back up, stretching her well trained body slowly. “...the word crisis can’t be written without opportunity, and opportunity is best served before anyone else~”

Reading on how it was mentioned the impostor had disappeared, she smiled. When YuYun wants something, she gets it one way or another. With that, she dashed off with astonishing speed. By no means was she weak, exploring every day builds up strength, and even more so when you wrestle with fully grown Geovishaps for their scales and eggs, and fight elite Treasure Hoarders.

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

It hurt. It hurt so so much. Bruises, cuts that already healed from your starry tears, and heartbreak. Heartbreak from both nothing is something. What did you even do? The memory felt so so long ago, even though it had not been even 3 weeks since you were here. A normal person in a normal life. You played Genshin Impact regularly, and due to your timid nature, you had built a close bond with the characters. The voice lines are all nostalgic and calming for you, and you’ve always made sure to try to not upset anyone in the game., going as far as watching walkthroughs on all the hangout events before doing it.

So why were you hurt so much? A happy cheery smile as you bathed in all of Mondstadt’s beauty as you walked in, stares and confusion in the next as you felt something hit your head, and nothing but shouts and insults from everyone you’ve thought you could trust. Knights knocked you to the ground as the rest of Monstadt taunted and hurt you. 

Venti’s cold gaze making your blood run cold before looking away, only to publicly denounce you. Liyue was the same alongside Inazuma, even though it had been torture to get there. All the sweet characters that represented your ideal of a human were shattered as the pain forced you to understand what’s happening. Pain was quickly associated them, the people who you thought you could trust and look eye to eye.

Being hunted down and chased like an animal, and being forced to live like one just to survive from those you thought you could trust, from your reflection of an ideal, due to the danger of stopping for a rest, it...hurt. So so much. So much so you aren’t sure if you’ll ever mover on. This is a common thing in martial arts, a feint. When you are struck in a place you were prepared to be struck, it would hurt less than where you didn’t expect. It made it so much worse.

Razor’s claymore on your skin, one of your favourite characters now after your life. Xiao’s absolute look of disgust towards you. Ei’s hurting words. The cute bard Venti’s insults. Zhongli’s dehumanizing attitude towards you. It...honestly didn’t matter at that point, you stopped thinking about home, stopped thinking of all your ideals, you just wanted to not be in pain anymore.

As your body finally wore out, your abused legs gave and you had fallen down to the ground. God knows how long you laid there, waiting for certain death, nothing but the sound of pounding heartbeat, desperate gasps, and awful ringing in your eyes. The cherry on top being the sore and abused body that accompanied your broken spirit.

Footsteps came from nearby and as death slowly approached, your desire stepped back in. I want to live...please just let me go...please don’t hurt me anymore...please, I’ll do anything…

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

How do I put it? Hmmm… I can see things. All veteran merchants can. The value of something, but I’m a bit different. I can appraisal the value, potential, and a lot of other information by just looking and feeling. I’ve always held immense pride for this since it represents my way of life. I always choose the best of the best, sparing not a second glance for second rate products. From when I learned to walk, I’ve always tried to find the most special and best items, whether it be rocks or leaves, everything, I can see it. 

Even Ningguang, who is renowned for her prodigious skill in the way of the merchant, was nowhere near close to my ability when it comes to appraising. This is no normal human ability, this is instead the crystallization of my way of life to search fo the best that manifested into an ability.

Just looking over at the tree next to me, I can see how fine the quality of its wood is, easily through the bark. I was already planning on what to do after I appraise the impostor. Making money would be easy if I play my cards correctly. After I get them, the Qixing, Knights of Favonius, and many clans in Inazuma would pay a fortune for them to be handed off. I could also hire a painter to draw the impostor, and watch the painting having its value skyrocket. This is a very significant historical event after all. Maybe I could try using it to bargain for the Golden Jade Wine Cup Tianquan has.

“Now that I think about it, doesn’t the blade or weapon that’s gonna be used to kill the imposter be very valuable for the Creator Church fanatics? I can pull some strings to get it then and there, but the problem is with the ethnics” As much as a psychopath I am, I really do not want to own a torture weapon, legendary weapons that killed foes are normal and commonplace, but tortures weapons are against my morals.

“Ah” I stopped walking. I hear a faint cry in the distance. I’ve steeled my heart from years of adventuring but for some reason, this cry pulls at my heartstrings so easily. Following the voice, the words became louder and clearer. Yep, that’s the impostor all right, regretting their actions. People get hurt when they make bad decisions, as much as I feel sympathy for the impostor, the fault lies with them. If only they simply did not insult and put shame on the divine, then this wouldn’t have happened. That’s simply how things are. I stepped aside to the left of the tree blocking me, and what I could see could simply only be described as

“Perfection...” my voice leaked out.

***

YunYu is a strange person. From her fanatical and perhaps even perverted fixation on special assets and treasures, all the way to her absolute unyielding belief in her way of life that is to pursue an ideal. Her actions for treasure were a result of her ideal, to pursue the ideal of finding and owning extraordinary things. Everyone is a bit of a perfectionist, everyone wanted the best of the best, but it is quickly through a young age that the fact that sentient beings whose existence is founded on subjective and superficial reasons, cannot be perfect. But so what? She still fought and desired it.

What she desired was not something as foolish as a child’s tantrum of wanting the best foolishly, no, it’s something more. It’s a path one takes to pursuit. The ideal lover, the ideal life, the ideal friendship, the ideal existence, the ideal family, the ideal emotions, the ideal body, the ideal body, the ideal everything, all humans live their life pursuing for these. 

From birth to death, all humans pursuit an ideal. An artist drawing a day in and day out for the ideal artwork, an author writing and researching for the ideal story, a sportsman training till their body begs them to stop for the ideal performance. It is not as foolish as wanting to be better and defeat everyone else, it is to FINALLY be better than the you that you never thought could be overcome. 

Yunhai had foolishly pursued her ideal of the pinnacle. The extraordinary, the special, the valued, all for the ideal pinnacle, the best of everything, perfection. Something that ALL so heartachingly desires, the world of Teywat itself treasures, the Heavens above desires, the Archons desires, all living beings desire, what she desires. The chain had always been there with her. All the treasures she gathered, all the artifacts, all the ancient heirlooms, it was now that she understood those were her own way of coping to the fact that she’ll never truly fulfill her ideal of perfection. 

Something so amazing that its value depended not by those around it, but by itself. Deep down, she knew there never will be the day where such a  thing would exist, but now, she could do nothing as what she had subconsciously deemed impossible but so so desperately wanted has been presented to her. All for her

[slutforwings]

books i read in august and what i thought of them because apparently i do that now

they both die at the end - adam silvera (YA)

spoiler alert: the title. this book takes place in a world where people are called up 24 hours before they die, so they're semi-prepared. it follows two teens who both got the call and spend their last day together. really cool concept, imo it could have expanded on the worldbuilding even more, but i guess the focus is just the main characters. and it did that really well! the romance is a bit cheesy, but what gripped me personally was the grieving yourself and future plans that will never come to fruition. 4/5

to kill a kingdom - alexandra christo (fantasy)

little mermaid inspired, sirens kill one human per year, the sea princess only kills princes. one of the princes is determined to kill this siren he's never seen. the siren gets turned into a human for plot reasons and finds out killing the prince determined to kill her might not be that easy. i reread this a year after my first year, it felt a bit more rushed the second time around. that said, i just love me some fairytale settings as well as ambigious morality and betrayal. i don't regret the reread. 4/5

the invisible life of addie larue - v.e. schwab (fastastical fiction?)

girl sells her soul and becomes immortal BUT everyone forgets her as soon as she's out of their sight. after 300 years of this, she meets someone that does remember her. once again, i was more in it for the concept than the romance. beautifully written, and a really good execution of the concept. i pirated it but ended up loving it so much that i bought a physical copy so yknow. 5/5

the memory police - yoko ogawa (fiction)

a town where things keep disappearing and the population forgets about them (perfume, birds, etc). some people don't forget, but remembering is strictly forbidden by the memory police. i dont want to say much more because it's once again a great concept and just a great book overall. to me it felt like an allegory of dementia or maybe depression, but you can really fill it in for yourself. really interesting read. 4,5/5

witches abroad - terry pratchett (fantasy)

12th discworld novel, can be read as a standalone, basically: 3 witches have to make sure the story of cinderella doesnt happen, but stories have a way of forcing their hand. a different witch doing everything to make it happen doesnt help of course. one of my favorite discworld novels so far, incredibly funny but with great life lessons a la pratchett. loved the witches as annoying tourists. for some reason took me a bit to get into it, but after that it was smooth and uninterrupted sailing. 5/5

where the crawdads sing - delia owens (fiction)

the life story of a girl growing up in the marshes of 1950-1960 north carolina, whose siblings and parents leave her at a very young age, alongside a murder case in 1969 (hah) which she is the main suspect of on account of living alone in a swamp. reading it felt like watching a movie, you can picture everything so clearly. unique reading experience. loved the themes of solitude, independence, and of course the intrigue of the murder in the future, woven inbetween. 4,5/5

cinderella is dead - kalynn bayron (fantasy)

dystopian society that every year has a ball to honor 200 year dead cinderella, girls have 3 balls to get chosen by a man, if not they're considered slaves to the patriarchy and basically disappear. one girl in love with another girl wants to overthrow the system. this book sucked ass. this is why you don't read books purely because they're 'queer and with diverse characters!'. the worldbuilding didn't make any sense, every man was such a caricature that it felt like the author was beating the point of her novel in my head with a fucking hammer. most annoying main character i've ever had the displeasure of reading. every other character existing to make the mc look good. i could complain about this book for years. don't read it. 1/5

out of my mind - sharon m. draper (fiction)

story of 11yo melody, who has cerebral palsy, is incredibly intelligent, but cannot speak. her frustration and trial to communicate with the people around her, some of which treat her like she's braindead. very moving novel, teared up a few times, had my heart racing alongside melody's at certain moments. puts you in the often extremely frustrating shoes of a disabled girl, a good reminder to never underestimate people. 5/5

ariadne - jennifer saint (historical... fiction?)

i think it's safe to say we all know ariadne and her role in aiding theseus through the labyrinth to slay the minotaur. so it's that. except told from her POV. and longer. and with added extras everywhere because her tale was not told in that much detail. i really enjoyed it, its advertised as a 'feminist' novel but its done in a not annoying way imo (AHEM take notes cinderella is dead). also at one point she gets a bee necklace from daedalus and im dying to get one too but googling 'ariadne pendant' does not give me what i want 4,5/5

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (29) || atz

“What?”

Time seems to slow, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as your heart pounds frantically, utterly confused. What did he mean by he didn’t lie? Seonghwa’s whole family got hanged on false charges, and he had the gall to deny the truth?

Lucio Bartholomew’s smile is sad as he answers Seonghwa.

“Your parents were not hung on false charges, Hwaseong.”

If you were shocked, Seonghwa is utterly destroyed. You can see his pupils dilating in shock, almost swallowing the soft grey of his irises. Stumbling backwards until Wooyoung catches him by the arm, he stares at the official, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

“You’re lying. They were the kindest people I’d ever known, the only blade my father had held his whole life was a kitchen knife. Don’t lie to me.”

Trembling, Seonghwa shakes his head desperately and buries his face in Wooyoung’s shoulder, as if doing that will change the truth. But Lucio Bartholomew does not lie. You can feel the genuine honesty in every word he says down to your very bones, and maybe that is what scares you the most.

“When I visited your parents in the eatery, I had an ulterior motive, you know?” Lucio says softly, staring at Seonghwa. The cook refuses to look at him, one of Wooyoung’s arms coming up to wrap around Seonghwa protectively as he glares down the official with venomous eyes that you hope are never aimed at you. “I had found out some information about them, so I went to investigate that. Did you know, Seonghwa?”

“Know what?” Seonghwa snaps, still unable to completely believe that Lucio Bartholomew is lying. The official looks at him seriously.

“Your parents were pirates, Seonghwa.”

The words have the impact of a punch, every wisp of air knocked from his lungs as the statement bounces around in his skull. They seem to have taken Seonghwa’s ability to speak as well, because he simply stares at the man in utter disbelief and shock.

“What?” The words slip past your lips. Lucio smiles at you, a little sadly. He holds a book in front of you, pages slightly yellowed with age. It’s a book of records, you realise, as you lean in to make out the writing on the paper.

Park Seonho and Eun Jung, pirates, to be hanged for theft, instances of piracy and betrayal of the Crown. Wanted for the murder of 57 people, the prominent of which was Levi Bastiville, former Commander of the Royal Navy Red Rose Fleet and his wife, which left their only son an orphan.

Seonghwa’s parents were pirates.

Pirates, who the Royal Navy had every right to execute.

Pirates charged with the murder of a married couple.

Pirates who had caused a young boy to grow up completely alone, devoid of any paternal love.

“You met him, didn’t you?” Lucio sighs, almost wistfully as he turns to Seonghwa. There’s something mournful in his eyes as he sets the book down. “He was the one who almost arrested all of you.”

Levi Bastiville’s son.

Leon Bastiville.

A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of the man, goosebumps racing over your skin as you felt the gun at your head once more, the way his fingers dug at your throat, the sheer lunacy in his eyes, the sadistic smile on his face as your captain had been whipped half to death in front of him.

And yet, Seonghwa could understand him now.

“He was left alone, completely without extended family. The orphanage took him in, but the other children bullied him for having come from a rich family.” Lucio tells you quietly, and you can see Wooyoung’s knuckles turn white. “He didn’t have the same sort of support and family you did on board the Treasure and he grew up twisted and sadistic, into the man you saw that day.”

A sob leaves Seonghwa’s throat.

“In fact,” The man continues softly, shaking his head dryly, “he was a boy much like you before the fateful day of the hanging.”

Seonghwa’s parents had destroyed lives, much like Lucio had destroyed Seonghwa’s.

And that itself is like a knife to Seonghwa’s throat.

“I was initially going to ask your parents to sell us information about other privateers as well as to check whether they might still pose a threat to Nassau.” Lucio continues, his words firm and unyielding. “I didn’t even think about hanging them for a life of crime they had so obviously left behind. But Leon found out, you see. He ran and told the town officials, and in the end your whole family was put to death.”

“It wasn’t you?” Seonghwa manages to ask between restrained sobs, Wooyoung patting him on the back gently. Lucio shakes his head honestly.

“I was merely the head of investigation.” He answers in return to Seonghwa’s question, and in that moment Seonghwa shatters into pieces.

“No…”

He’s been living a lie this whole time.

“According to the reports of Sir Lucio Bartholomew, the head of the piracy investigation, I find the Park family guilty of consorting with pirates and ****…”

Seonghwa remembers now.

The memory comes back, as if resurfacing from the bottom of the ocean where it’s lingered the last six years. It returns, clear and unblemished by time, no longer hidden behind his own biases and beliefs.

“...Guilty of consorting with pirates and p*r*cy-”

He had heard it that day.

“...Guilty of p*ra*y…”

He had chosen to forget that one memory.

“...Piracy.”

He had lied to himself.

“So, Park Seonghwa, are you still going to kill me?”

The gun falls from Seonghwa’s fingers and clatters to the ground. Seonghwa lets out a wail so painful it sends chills down your spine, as if there is someone physically torturing him from within.

“Seonghwa-hyung-” You begin to say, but Lucio begins to speak once more.

“I could give you the name and identity of the man did kill your parents and siblings.” Lucio says softly, his eyes resting on Seonghwa’s shaking form with sympathy. “But your parents did kill his wife, who was pregnant with their unborn child.”

Horror wells up in your chest and Seonghwa lets out a muffled scream into Wooyoung’s sleeve.

“I only imagine that he wanted them to feel the same pain he did.” Lucio continues, as if unaware of the agony ripping Seonghwa apart. “I’m not saying that he was right in what he did, but anyone would have understood why. He’s lived with the guilt for the last six years of his life as well. He still hears their voices in his head and hasn’t had a night of sleep since that day.”

You don’t know what is happening anymore. You can only watch as Seonghwa crumbles before you, Wooyoung holding onto him desperately like his only lifeline to reality. But you can see the fog in Seonghwa’s mind clearing slowly as he learns to accept the truth.

“I hate you.” Seonghwa manages to choke out finally, but there’s mixed feelings in his own voice. “I hate you for telling me the truth. But thank you.”

Lucio smiles gently, and to your surprise, Seonghwa doesn’t shy away from it this time. “I’m glad you escaped his wrath. What I can do to make amends is tell you where your family are buried.”

Seonghwa’s eyes go wide. Prisoners who have been hanged are usually just tossed into pits in the ground, not given the luxury of a proper burial.

“Thank you.” Is all Seonghwa manages to say, furiously wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Hate, Seonghwa, is the path of the devil. It is tempting, and it will attempt to entice you with all sorts of logical explanations and compelling reasons, ones that boost your ego and raises false heroes.” The official’s eyes are a little wistful as he and Seonghwa meet each other’s gaze evenly for the first time that night. “I wish I had known that before. That there is no prize worth the corruption of your soul. There is no relief in revenge, only more pain and destruction.”

“I understand.”

And he really does, because as much as he wants to hate the man who killed his family, he can’t bring himself to. His parents’ guilt and responsibility weigh themselves on his shoulders, just as much as the hatred towards the man who had murdered his parents had once been.

“So what are you going to do now, hyung?” Wooyoung asks Seonghwa, helping him wipe the tears from his eyes as he shoots Lucio Bartholomew a look. Even after finding out that Bartholomew isn’t the one directly responsible for the deaths of Seonghwa’s parents, he still looks like he wants to blow the man up anyway for giving his crewmate so much grief.

“I don’t know.” Seonghwa exhales, turning to look at you and Wooyoung. He looks a little lost, a little confused, like a man who’s reached the end of a road and doesn’t know where to go next. “Maybe go to my family’s grave and pay my respects.”

He glances back at the Lucio, who nods. “They’re buried by the sea, at the little fishing spot you and your family used to go to.”

“Thank you.” This time, his words are full of surety. And for the first time since he’s stepped into the room, his shoulders sag in relief, as if a massive weight has been lifted from him.

Wooyoung holds him by the shoulders, steering him out of the room gently.

You linger for a moment more, your eyes searching the room for a glimpse of the book that had started it all. But it’s not there.

“Are you still looking for something?” Lucio asks, and you whip around in surprise to see the official still standing there, a distantly sad look of regret on his face as he stares out of the door. Even though he was the one who’d turned Seonghwa’s life upside down, you can’t help but ask.

“Is there something wrong?”

The man snaps out of his little reverie, shaking his head.

“Oh, no… I just wish I could have had more courage.”

Courage?

“I wish I could have told that boy the truth.” Lucio Bartholomew looks at the doorway, but there’s something like wistfulness in his eyes. You frown at his words. What did he mean by the truth? Didn’t he tell Seonghwa the whole truth already?

“You should go too.” He gestures to the door, but you can’t help staring at him even as you leave.

Then as you shut the door behind you, you hear him speak once more, this time seemingly speaking to the empty room.

“Marie, my love, Janice, my sweet child…” Lucio Bartholomew murmurs softly, lost in a world that you can’t seem to see. “Please watch over that boy from heaven to atone for my sins.”

The door clicks shut.

[ddarker-dreams]

Malaise. Yan Fugo x Reader [Implied x Giorno]

word count: 6.3k warnings: implied sexual relations, angst later on notes: i wouldn’t say there’s super heavy yandereness going on here, but given the context i figured yandere would play out a bit differently. it’s more like slight yandere if anything ...

i.

Interacting with someone so close to your own age shouldn’t be this miserable. Bucciarati is far easier to converse with, it’s not even a close competition. He’s a pleasant conversationalist, humoring your ideas and offering valuable input. If you had it your way, you’d only be speaking to him and not… this bratty teenager who turned his nose up whenever you were around. As if your mere existence is the highest insult to his own. You’ll never forget how he looked from you to Bucciarati with a quirked eyebrow when you were introduced, the awkward encounter forever burned into your mind. 

You blow a strand of hair out of your face, nose scrunching up at the current dilemma. Bucciarati had asked, more like softly nudged you, to get along better with Fugo. You’ve been trying, ever since he introduced you two that fateful day. In the back of your head, you wonder if the same task was assigned to Fugo in private. Though seeing as he’s remaining nose deep into his book, sitting as far as humanly possible from you on this couch, you doubt it. The phrase “avoid like the plague”, doesn’t even scratch the surface of Fugo’s attitude towards you. He’d sooner embrace the Bubonic Plague than you, should prior encounters be recalled.

“Was there something you needed?” 

Speak of the devil. He must’ve seen fit to grace your presence with his most sacred articulation, filling the tense air with some much-needed conversation. The words aren’t malicious on a surface level, seemingly a reasonable inquiry considering you’ve been staring at him for a solid ten minutes. It’s how his voice is strained, knuckles whitening as he grips the book tighter, which gives him away. Fugo’s too easy to read at times, the same can’t be said when it comes to dealing with him. This might be the most difficult task Bucciarati ever assigned to you. 

“Need isn’t the word I’d use,” you decide to ignore the not-so-subtle irritation on his features, pushing your strained luck as far as it can go. Linguistics aside, you put your cards on the table. “But, I was hoping to get to know you better.” 

With the ball now on his side of the court, all you can do is wait, for whatever rebuttal Fugo decides to dish out. When Bucciarati isn’t around, Fugo’s preference is to act like you’re no more than a fly on the wall. Buzzing around his head and making it impossible to focus on anything that he does in his rare downtime. Honestly, he can’t comprehend why Bucciarati felt so desperate as to pluck you from whatever hole he found you in. You don’t even hold a candle to his own intellect, taking a naive, happy-go-lucky approach to life. Sure you’re a Stand user, and while it’s not a useless Stand, Fugo couldn’t picture you making the choices necessary in a fight to stay alive. The fact you haven’t been reduced to a bloodstain on the pavement is the only thing he finds impressive about you so far.

His eyebrow twitches at your pesky insistence, face settling into a grimace. “Am I right in assuming that if I don’t humor this pitiful attempt, you’ll continue to stare at me and disrupt my otherwise peaceful evening?” 

You place a finger to your cheek, considering the proposition, before nodding your head. “It looks like you’ve got a better understanding of things than I expected.” 

Fugo lets out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. So be it. He’ll wait until you fall asleep to finish his book, mentally noting the page number and setting it by his side. The act of surrender takes you off guard. You were fully anticipating a snarky one-liner, or for him to disregard you in some other way. Instead, he looks at you with disinterest, arms crossed over his weird swiss cheese shirt. You learned never to mention your inner critiques of his fashion sense, as it once earned a plate of parmesan being narrowly dodged at Libecco. Scary stuff.

“Now that I have your undivided attention,” Fugo winces at this like he heard nails on a chalkboard, “What do you like to do? Y’know, hobbies and stuff.” 

It’s as good a start as any. Finding out a person’s interests unravels the essence of who they are, what they believe is worth their time and effort. Fugo gives your question an unexpected amount of thought, probably sensing you’ll call him out for a lackluster answer. Which you would, of course. For all his stubbornness, he’s gotten good at reading you. Maybe you should try shaking things up a bit to rattle him, keep him on the edge of his seat… 

“Honestly, you couldn’t pick something more original…? I don’t know. I read, and I can appreciate a good movie.” 

You let out a hum of acknowledgment, considering his words. A very safe, Fugo-like answer. It didn’t take a seasoned detective to assume Fugo liked to read, but the movie detail is a new bit of information that you will take full advantage of. He strikes you as the type to be snobby about his tastes in movies. Most likely only watching them if they’re popular with critics and saying the general population has no appreciation for the fine arts, too busy consuming braindead action flicks instead of true cinema. Not that you have any intention of voicing this conclusion to him, seeing as you’re trying to worm your way into a friendship.

Fugo snaps his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back into unfortunate reality. Maybe that statement earlier this morning about you zoning out too much holds some merit. Before he can berate you as he’s taken an apparent liking to, you speak up. “That’s good and all, but I need specifics.” 

“Care to elaborate?” 

“With pleasure,” you lean forward, waving your hands enthusiastically to emphasize your point. You get the sense that Fugo regrets asking for clarification, but neither of you are willing to back down now. “How about this. If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, which would you pick?” 

“Is this some kind of job interview?” Fugo murmurs to himself, massaging his temples. You shrug your shoulders and offer a bright smile, and he knows sarcasm isn’t gonna cut it. “It’d need to be something interesting… maybe The Silence of the Lambs.” 

He somewhat defied your expectations, not listing some obscure black and white flick filmed on a Blackberry. Maybe you jumped the gun on your initial assessment of Fugo Pannacotta, and he isn’t as grandiloquent after all. This confrontation is going better than you ever anticipated, and you almost feel guilty for selling him too short.

That is, until he sees fit to present an unnecessary addition to his previous statement. “Was that bit of English too much for you?” 

So much for that. Once an asshole, always as an asshole. Shakespeare may have said something similar, but your reimagining is far more of a pinnacle in literary achievement. You deflate back into the couch, huffing at his indignant comment. Well, might as well burst his bubble now. It may be the only bubble Fugo has that you’re capable of the aforementioned bursting, so you’re going to savor every second of it. The entire reason you’ve never mentioned this facet of yourself is that you never viewed it as imperative. Bucciarati knew, you knew, that’s all that mattered. Until Fugo decided to dig under your skin and rub salt on the wound in one fell swoop. Figures he’d do that.

“Fugo.” 

“[First].”

“You know English is my first language, right?” Your voice is more of a deadpan than anything, tilting your head to the side as if it is the most logical conclusion. The hypothetical cogs in Fugo’s head begin turning. There was that time you stumbled over a Naples exclusive dish, sfogliatella, Bucciarati kindly offering the proper pronunciation after you stumbled on it. Or how you have the slightest of accents, sometimes referencing pop culture that goes beyond him. He always wondered why muttering “cazzimma” to you only earned a light reprimanding from Bucciarati, and never offended you as more common insults would. He just thought you were some type of misfortune idiot. Whoops. 

Not willing to throw in the towel yet, Fugo takes a posture of defense. This is a hill he’s willing to die on, you have to be playing some kind of cheap trick. “I don’t buy it.” 

“Should I start reciting the entire Star-Spangled Banner by heart, or talk about how much I love fast food and baseball? Did you think my Stand would be a bald eagle that shot out apple pie? If that’s the case, you’re fresh outta luck. I’m living in Naples for a reason.” you respond in fluent English, flexing your hypothetical muscles. Fugo recalls his English classes from years prior to roughly translate some of your words, scowling at the realization you’ve proven him wrong. By god do you wish you had your phone with you to snap a picture, print it out, frame it in every room of this apartment, make it your lock screen, and send it to Bucciarati. 

You’ll settle for drinking in the moment instead, Fugo muttering curses underneath his breath. Much to your surprise, from this moment forward, Fugo earned just an ounce of respect for you. Not that it says a lot, seeing as the cup of [First] respect was drier than the Sahara desert until recent times. 

It’s still a step in the right direction.

ii.

Neither of you says a word.

Coming down from your individual highs, you feel how your hair sticks to the sides of your perspiring face. Your bare chest heaving with every labored breath, Fugo in a similar state of disarray next to you. Now that it’s all said and done, you’re unable to look at him out of embarrassment. Instead, you seek solace in staring at your ceiling, thoughts scrambling to rationalize the previous events. 

It all started innocent enough. The two of you had been growing closer, becoming more comfortable in each other's presence. Even Narancia, who could be notoriously poor at picking up on subtleties, could sense your connection and even pointed it out. Until Fugo told him to knock it off (in far more vulgar language), saving you the shame of saying it yourself. You felt content with the state of things with Fugo, after months of getting him to come out of his shell with you. His words were still pointed, but not full of ill will. Even when three more additions were brought to your little group, Fugo remained the person you prefer the most. It might be wishful thinking, but you think he feels the same towards you. 

Tonight had been like all the ones that came before. The two of you sitting on the couch, talking about pointless endeavors. Mista and Narancia were out at the time, leaving you all on your lonesome. For such a sizable couch, you didn’t realize how close Fugo was sitting next to you. Your thighs practically touching, occasionally brushing over one another. To combat the summer heat and mediocre air conditioning in your apartment, you were wearing short shorts and a tank top. Seeing as everyone else could walk around shirtless at their discretion, no one ever made a point to call you out on the less than modest choice. Even if they felt the itching, you’d shut them up without a second thought.

Fugo found himself focusing less on the words coming out of your mouth, and more on your glossy lips. He could smell your strawberry chapstick, the choice so tempting he found it offensive. Mixed with the chocolate gelato that you stole from Mista’s “hidden” stash, Fugo was bewitched on a level that shouldn’t be possible. Your skin, slightly glistening from the summer heat, eyes full of passion as you explained why you hated pretentious movies. At a certain point, you must’ve noticed how Fugo stopped responding to your impassioned rant. All he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you, to feel every inch of your body.

So he did. 

It was far from suave, an amateurish clashing of teeth and tongue. You let out a surprised noise at the unexpected events but melted into it. While the kiss didn’t go as smoothly as he pictured in his head, you seemed to savor every second of it. He still remembers how eagerly you responded to his every desperate touch, how you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him even closer. The scent of your floral perfume and the sweet noises that left your lips almost made him drool, prompting him to go even further. Fugo’s brain almost shut down when you lowly whispered into his ear to come to your room, bodies soon falling onto your bed in a heated embrace. 

You feel sore, but it’s not so bad. 

Fugo’s the first to speak up after some painstaking thought, breaking the silence that’s resonated ever since he climbed off of you. “Are you… are you okay?” 

It’s so unlike him to be this unsure, not knowing what to do or say. His heart still pounds in his chest, cheeks flushed and lips bruised. Suppressed emotions came crashing down over him like a tidal wave, drowning him before he could make sense of it all. You didn’t push him away or seem offended by his advances as he’d feared you’d be. Instead, you accepted all of him. Allowing him to carry out his pent-up yearning for you, in a state of bliss by how you called his name out. 

Shameful as it may be, Fugo had envisioned this scenario in his head numerous times. He’d always hated himself for it, thinking he’s no better than a common pervert for the way he thought of you. All the ways he pictured you, in all the lascivious situations, only to see you bright and early for breakfast the next day. When you smiled and told him good morning, all he could do is look away in disgrace. Not that you ever knew about this, or that you ever needed to find out. 

You let out a carefree, light giggle at his serious inquiry. Fugo’s eyebrows scrunch together into a scowl at your sudden laughter, finally working up the courage to look at you again. Any frustration melts away like winter snow in the spring at how breathtaking you look, your skin iridescent and eyes softening. They aren’t softening just for anyone, it’s for him and him alone. Does he deserve to be the one you look at with all this adoration? And should he even bother with the self-deprecating thoughts, when losing himself with you is so much better?

“S-sorry, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just,” you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, the skin underneath your eyes tightening from the wide smile. “I never took you for the sappy, pillow talk type.” 

Fugo’s nostrils flare, huffing without any malice at your teasing. He doesn’t have the slightest idea of what he’s doing, improvising as he goes. Everything that happened, every shared touched you shared, felt so surreal. Cheesy as it may sound, it was like a dream come true. What is there to say after a passionate encounter like that? He’s still rushing to get his bearings, hating the sensation of being this out of control. How you make his stomach erupt into a swarm of butterflies with every action, from the simple fluttering of your eyelashes to the cute way your nose scrunches up when you’re concentrating on a task. Fugo knows what this could be, in the back of his head. A quiet, hard to push down voice tells him what he’s been dreading to hear. That he’s a fool, deep in the throes of love. 

It takes a few minutes for you to calm yourself down. Fugo’s observant, much to your chagrin, having picked up on your nervous tick of laughing when you’re unsure of what to do. It’d make sense, seeing how you just slept with your teammate who frequently called you an idiot a few months ago. You prop yourself up, bedsheets covering your bare chest. “I’m fine, thank you.”

He looks away, despising how your revealed skin makes his face flush a bright red. Even without looking at you, he can picture the knowing smile on your angelic face at his embarrassment. It’s the same smile you have when Narancia tells a particularly funny joke, when Mista goes on a silly tangent about his latest concerns, when Bucciarati says you’ve done a good job, or when Abbacchio chooses to sit down next to you when everyone else is being too annoying. Most importantly, it’s how you always look at Fugo, even when he didn’t think he deserved it. 

You poke his cheek, murmuring his name. Fugo’s violet hues flicker back to you at the unprecedented action, perplexed countenance betraying his inner thoughts. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking like this. That the occupation you two are involved in is too dangerous to sustain a relationship, and that death is a possibility every day. It’s too late for him to nip these feelings in the bud -- that opportunity passed long ago, as he let it -- but he can’t allow it go past the point it already has.

Fugo lets out an inaudible gasp when you make yourself comfortable against his bare chest. Here he is, being torn on the inside between desire and duty, and you’re snuggling up without a care in the world. It’s the stark contrast that separates you, the same one that has him so hopelessly enamored. You have no intentions on making this easy for him, do you? He knows the answer when he sees your eyelids closing, threatening to fall asleep. 

All is comfortably quiet until he hears your muffled voice speak up. “You didn’t push me away.” 

“Huh?” 

Fugo’s own response isn't the schooled, thought-out string of words you’ve come to expect. It’s a kneejerk reaction to a confusing observation, that he’s having trouble rationalizing in his head. While never the most forthcoming with his emotions, he was essentially ravishing you like a man possessed a few minutes prior. You can’t be that dense, can you? Scratch that, the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Even if not many got to see that side of you, there are still insecurities that weigh heavily on your heart. In the same way he struggles with self-worth, you fight a similar battle. The thought tugs on his heart, lips set into a deep frown. Everyone’s got something to deal with.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Fugo responds in a harsher tone than he intended. When he feels you tense against his chest, he curses himself, intentionally softening his next set of words. “But, uh, do you really want me to stay? The others might be back soon.” 

You let out a hum of acknowledgment at his concerns, promptly waving them off. It’s not like Narancia and Mista are capable of sneaking into your shared residence, it’s ridiculously loud when they come home. “Just a few more minutes.” 

He expected an answer like that and still has trouble relaxing. Truth be told, Fugo would prefer to lay here with you forever. To see what you look like when you sleep, to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest in sync with his own, to kiss your forehead and whisper goodnight. In an ideal world, that’s how it would be. Reality is a lot less forgiving, and there’s too much on the line. Being this close to someone else is vulnerable, painfully so. To hurt and be hurt, the opportunity now having the room to manifest. He knows all this, and he still can’t bring himself to mention the full force of his anxieties. Would you hate him? Think he was using you and then ditching you? 

Fugo decides to be selfish, more so than usual. While there’s no way to push down all of these emotions, looking at you puts him at ease. His fingers ghost over an area on your neck he learned was sensitive, almost smiling when you lean into the touch. The way he feels with you is addicting. From your quick wit that matches his own, never being afraid to challenge his positions, it’s like he found his match. While he’s always found you begrudgingly cute, even when he was colder to you, it’s evolved into something greater. More serious and heartfelt. It’s horrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Does this mean we’re dating?” you ask what’s been troubling you, hearing how Fugo’s heartbeat ramps up in speed. It’s a rational conclusion, seeing how comfortable you two are with one another. You don’t know if what you feel is love, not just yet, but you want to give whatever this is a shot. Fugo’s hesitation says all you need to know, though you wish it isn’t like this. 

“I… I don’t know if I’m ready for that just yet.” Fugo answers honestly, the words so quiet you struggle to pick them up. It’d be a lie to say you’re not disappointed, though you don’t want to push him into anything he’s not ready for. Fugo has his own emotions to work through, and the last thing you need to do is jump into a relationship and ruin everything. So you lift yourself up, looking him deep in the eyes, Fugo blinking at the abrupt movement. 

“Then I’ll wait.” 

He doesn’t notice how close to crying he’s been this entire time. The world through his view goes blurry, a lump forming in the back of his throat. Fugo takes deep breaths to steady himself, and instead of berating him, you wipe away his tears with the pad of your thumb. Whispering reassurances into his ear, combing through his tousled hair with your fingers. Fugo wipes at his eyes furiously, cursing himself for breaking down in front of you of all people. He’s overwhelmed with gratitude when you decide not to comment on it further, to save him the embarrassment. Your words echo within his head like a holy mantra, a promise that he’ll hold onto. 

If there were ever a reality where you looked down at him with disdainful eyes, he’d hate himself. 

iii.

Wandering aimlessly isn’t the worst part.

No, that’d be letting himself off too easy. It’s not the sleepless nights, tossing and turning while his stomach churns, or even the tear-stained pillowcases. When walking around Naples, all he can do is submerge himself to the shadows. There’s shame in the act of hiding, and it’s all he’s come to know. Seeing the light of day feels too good for someone like him, someone who had been abandoned by everyone he cared about and was too cowardly to prevent it. It’s a suitable punishment to wallow in his own self-pity and loneliness, cursing his entire existence for the mistakes that haunt him every day. 

It’s always a mistake to come to this café. This is your favorite café, and on days like this, all he can do is watch from afar. There are times he stares at the spot you frequent for hours, waiting to see if you decide to stop by that day or not. In a way, it’s almost better when you don’t. He doesn’t get a taste of what he’s missing out on, a forbidden fruit that he’s too ashamed to reach for. Most of the time you come here alone, with your favorite pastry and coffee, scrolling on your phone or laptop before leaving. He’s seen you meet with Mista a few times, even Trish once, but it’s mostly Giorno who accompanies you. 

Today you’re on your lonesome, speaking to someone over the phone and then hanging it up with a smile. Fugo can’t help but wonder, who is it that makes you smile like that? As he sits from afar, drowning in his anguish, it’s what plagues him the most. That used to be the smile he saw on a daily basis, the one that made him fall head over heels in love. Now he’s too afraid to approach you, in fear of what you may say, or do. Even what you wouldn’t do would hurt. Would you look at him in pity, or curse him for his cowardly actions? Condemn him for not joining you on that boat, or ignore him all together?

Is it possible… that you’ve simply forgotten all about him? It has been almost two years since the worst day of his life. While he’s caught up in the past, you’ve moved into a brighter future. He doesn’t know how he feels anymore. Surely you deserve any happiness you can get after all the suffering you went through, but the thought of you being happy without him stings. It digs talons into Fugo’s heart, ripping it out of his chest. One of these days, he tells himself, he’ll work up the strength to speak to you. Even if it’s but a moment. 

Though some part of him knows he’ll never be able to face you. Not anymore.

v.

It’s early in the afternoon. Chatter from other patrons reverberates off the tastefully decorated walls, in a restaurant that Fugo’s been to numerous times. This particular visit is different than the ones years ago. Instead of the bustling atmosphere he’d grown used to, there are only two people at the table. Where laughter and lighthearted conversations before work used to occur, there’s nothing but silence save for some polite discussion. Fugo’s throat feels persistently dry, no matter how much water he gulps down. 

Giorno sits across from him, legs folded and nursing a glass of iced tea the waiter brought seconds prior. Maintaining eye contact with the revered Don of Passione is no simple task. It’s a daunting experience, regardless of Giorno’s insistence on no formalities being necessary when interacting with one another. Fugo holds immense respect for him, otherwise, he wouldn’t be willingly sitting here right now. Still, his mouth is set in a straight line, leg bouncing underneath the table. Respect isn’t enough to snuff out the uncomfortable memories that appear up in this room, suffocating him from the inside out. 

“Is there a reason I’m here?” The words come out more forcefully than he intended, Fugo’s eyes darting around his familiar surroundings, looking for something he won’t find. Someone he won’t find. He’s grateful to Giorno for his benevolence, as speaking this way to someone who’s technically his boss isn’t advisable. Someone as sharp as Fugo knows this better than most, but he also knows Giorno. While not understanding him entirely, his actions make logical sense in the grand scheme of things. 

Being in Giorno’s position means being busy. Every second of the day has to be taken advantage of, whether it be discussing with other mafioso about recent happenings or plans, making multiple phone calls, and plenty of other headache-inducing tasks. So it doesn’t make much sense to Fugo why Giorno called him this morning, asking to meet him in person for lunch. While the two aren’t on bad terms, he doesn’t feel deserving of the specially allotted time. And in his gut, he feels there’s a hidden justification for the meeting that he’s yet to uncover. A few unpleasant theories come to mind, but they only serve to unnerve Fugo further, so he stuffs them down. 

“I wasn’t sure of the best way to deal with Purple Haze. Your Stand… you’re already aware of the potential consequences it could’ve posed, so I won’t rehash it more than necessary,” Giorno begins to offer his insight into the matter, finally revealing the true reason Fugo was called out here today. “There were a variety of methods that could’ve been used, with varying degrees of success, but I took a gamble. Ultimately, she didn’t want you to suffer anymore.”

Fugo feels his heart drop, jaw slackening despite his best efforts. “Who… who do you mean?” 

At this, Giorno quirks an eyebrow up. As if to wordlessly say, you know who. 

“It might not be my place to delve into your past,” Giorno continues with a serious air, contrasted by his closed-mouth smile. Fugo never knows for certain what Giorno’s plotting behind that smile, and a part of him wants to remain oblivious. “But for you to overcome it, and in turn gain total control over Purple Haze, it must be addressed.”

He can guess where this is going, and he doesn’t like it. Giorno gives him a moment to consider the words, briefly glancing at his buzzing phone and then returning his attention back to Fugo. It’s a subtle change in body language, how Giorno’s shoulders stiffen just slightly as if he’s anticipating something. Fugo loosens the tie around his neck, the pair returning to tense silence. While the Don made valiant attempts in loosening him up, it only served to make Fugo more suspicious. All of his fears are confirmed when he overhears two voices from the room over, one of them sending his heart racing.

That’s… that you and Mista speaking to one another. He knows your voice better than he knows any other sound on the planet, even if it’s been years since he’s heard it up this close. Fugo still dreams of you, the way you used to stumble over certain Neapolitan lingo, or how wonderful it sounded when you graced his ears with a laugh. Now, he’s unsure of what to feel when hearing the muffled conversation between you and Mista. The sound grows closer, and with it, his dread. After rejoining Passione at Giorno’s behest, Fugo knew this reunion couldn’t be avoided. Nothing could prepare him for it. 

There’s a telltale gasp when you turn the corner, spotting the back of someone you haven’t seen since you were a teenager. Someone who you used to hold in high esteem, who practically fell off the face of the earth after betraying the old boss. While Mista had hastily given you the details on the car ride over, it still felt too surreal, like a cruel joke. There’s a lot that weighs down on your heart, like stones wrapped around your ankles, dragging you into the depths. The details Giorno gave you about Fugo’s whereabouts were purposefully vague, most likely in consideration of your past feelings. 

“Fugo…?” 

You’re by his side before he can even process it, bending down and wrapping his stiff shoulders into a warm embrace. He doesn’t reciprocate it or stop you, his thoughts not capable of rationalizing what’s going on. Fugo can’t bring himself to look up at your countenance, in fear of what he’ll see staring back at him. That you’re even hugging him means you must pity him, viewing him as a scared little boy who was too weak to do what was necessary. It’s the only explanation that makes sense to him, and why he can’t return your affections. While it’s no longer his place to desire anything from you, not after all his shortcomings, he silently prays. That there may be some part of you that still cares for him, in the same way he has loved you from afar. 

“I’m so glad you’ve come back.” you sniffle, emotions swirling and enveloping you. You lift your hand, using your finger to swipe away forming tears. That’s when Fugo sees it. It doesn’t hit him at first as one would expect. No, it’s a prickling sensation that starts from his chest and spreads throughout his body like a virus. His body feels ice cold, like a corpse clinging onto shreds of life, consumed from the inside out by sorrow. Nausea comes in waves, tempting him to flee from this heart-wrenching scene and never look back. Your hand falls back to your side, and Fugo’s eyes follow it with precision, unable to look away.

There’s a rose gold band on your ring finger. 

Of course. Looking at you here, it makes sense why this would happen. Your body has filled out, beauty like that of an angel. The ability to draw people in and befriend them like a glowing aura has always been your strong suit, it was warm enough to thaw the ice around Fugo’s heart. It’d be a fool’s prayer to beg God to keep you for himself, and still, he had tried. Now that leaves the burning question, who? Who was the person that erased himself from your mind, taking the place that was carved out specifically for him? He looks at your beaming face, searching for answers he won’t find outright. 

Your perfume is the same as it was before. Light and floral, but mixed with a hint of something new. Of someone new. It sickens him, the scent dizzying as it taunts him. Where has he smelled this before? It’s on the tip of his tongue, fizzling out before coming into fruition. The words you speak next are drowned out by Fugo’s throbbing head, too absorbed with dark thoughts to process them. He needs to know. He has to know. Fugo looks over your shoulder to Mista in search of answers, the gunslinger holding an uncharacteristically grim expression. They hold eye contact, Fugo staring at him with potent intensity. 

Give me a hint. Anything, please.

Not everyone gives Mista the credit he deserves for being observant. Fugo must’ve looked like he’d seen a ghost, Mista swallowing at the pale complexion and vacant eyes. Believing that his intentions weren’t clear enough, Fugo almost looks away. Before he gets the opportunity, Mista offers a slight inclination of the head. Fugo closes his eyes, all his strength going into holding himself together. Picking up the shards of glass that maintain his emotions, hands growing bloody in the process. It’s a subtle movement, though there’s no denying in what direction it went, as much as Fugo wished otherwise.

Towards Giorno. 

You move towards your seat, realizing Fugo must be going through a lot of emotions of his own. The last thing you need to do is suffocate him when it’s clear he’s processing the unfolding events. “I don’t know the last time you came here, but they recently added more desserts. I’m partial to the zeppole… it’s so light and fluffy.” 

Mista walks over, taking a seat next to the befuddled Fugo, and speaking up to ease the uncomfortable silence that resonates in the room. “I’m starving, haven’t had anything to eat all day. Let’s get the waiter over here.”

While he flags down a passing employee, Fugo’s eyes follow your form. The table is different than how it used to be. Abbacchio would be sipping on wine, no matter the time of day. Bucciarati wouldn’t always be sitting down for long, seeing as he had lots of work to do, but he always made time for a good meal. Narancia loved conversing with you, seeing as you had lots of knowledge of the English music he was so partial to. You always sat next to Fugo, who’d lightly reprimand Narancia for being more passionate about rap than his studies, or telling Mista to knock it off with the unappetizing conversations he loved to start. 

Now, you take the chair next to Giorno, who had pulled it out in kind when you walked over.

You said you’d wait for him, and Fugo fooled himself into believing that statement would last a lifetime. He always had regrets about not joining his team on the boat that day, too many to count. A new one has sprouted up like a weed, strangling his heart. If he had joined you, would it have been him you’d have married? Would it be him that you’d look at with that dazzling expression instead, the one that he had grown used to seeing? Now that he knows the full extent of the truth, Fugo wonders how he could have ever been so blind. Even Giorno -- who often smiled just for show -- had unmistakably lightened up as soon as you entered the room. 

This… This is Fugo’s despair.

The rest of lunch goes as smoothly as it can. He forces himself to speak when spoken to, Mista kindly filling the room with conversation to prevent any awkwardness. This can’t end fast enough. He needs to get out of here, to excuse him before he does something truly stupid. A serpent whispers temptations of evil into his ear, and he doesn’t want to tune them out. Not anymore. Now isn’t the time to pull any idiotic stunts, so he remains still as a statue. When all is said and done, Fugo can’t get up from the table to dismiss himself any faster. He pays the necessary respects to his Don, swiftly offering his goodbyes. With his back turned, he hears your voice call out to him in the darkness.

“I’ll see you later, right?” you ask in between bites of your dessert, the words meaning more for him than you. He doesn’t know. He’s not certain of anything anymore, even after making up his mind on returning to Passione. The situation has taken a turn for the worst, in a way he couldn’t stomach any longer. So for now, he’ll offer up an unconvincing response, not capable of looking back at you. 

At the reminder of all his failures.

“... Of course.” 

[volturicangetit]

A.V/J.V- Loved at last

Summary: After getting rejected by your imprints, Emmett and Rosalie, you needed a fresh start. So you go to Italy where you meet two interesting vampires. Maybe they can show you what’s it’s like to be loved.

Reqeust: YES/no @rexburn12​  : Where Male Reader Was Banished From La Push For Imprinting On Emmett, and Rosalie They Reject Him Which Almost Kills Him, and Makes Reader Extremely Sad and Reader Moves To Volterra, Italy To Work As A Mechanic. Alec and Jane Smell A Amazing Scent They Follow It To See Their Mate Reader At Home Who Looks Sad Which Makes Them Growl in Anger and It Catches Reader's Attention He Looks At Them, and Imprints On Them Making Him Shocked. Since Imprinting Is A One Time Thing For Shifters.

Warnings: swearing, self hate

Wordcount: 3226

A/N: I’m turning 17 tomorrow ( may 19 )! I can’t really celebrate my birthday but at least I can celebrate it with my parents and siblings. Also I’m born on the same day as Jojo Siwa so that....nice?

PART TWO

MASTERLIST

Saying that you ' hate yourself ' can't even express the amount of disgust you feel towards yourself. You know that it's something you can't control, something that isn't a choice. But still feel like it's your fault that you imprinted on not one, but two vampires. You didn't even know that it was possible to imprint on something that died decades ago. The fact that they both rejected you didn't help. You knew that they wouldn't love you but you were hoping to at least be friends.

" You fucking what? " Rosalie screams at the top of her dead lungs. You flinch as she takes a step towards you, lowering your head. " They can't control it, " Carlisle tries to reason, but Rosalie and Emmett ignore him. You feel Emmet wrap his hands around you and lift you off the ground. Within a second you're outside of the house where he roughly pushes you onto the ground, right into the mud. You sit there on your hands and knees trying to regain yourself which is very fucking difficult when your covered in mud and getting soaked slowly by the rain pouring down on you. It was like the universe wanted you to suffer even more.

" Did you seriously think that we would accept you? You're a fucking dog. " Rosalie says as she and Emmet are standing on their porch. It's only now that you see the contrast between you all. They're standing dry in their expensive house while you're laying in the mud, which comforts you for some odd reason. You stand up quickly, pushes some of the rain of off your face.

" Please, you know I wouldn't have come here if I could just go without you. ". Your voice cracks at every word. You came here vulnerable and onto the land of your enemies. If Sam knows that you're here, he will rip your head off. Emmett shakes his head but doesn't say anything. He can't bring himself to do so. Sure, he wants to scream at you. To yell some words at you he knows he's going to regret but it's like his mind has shut off. Rosalie, on the other hand, can't stop the words from flowing out. " Go away, you disgusting thing. "

You let yourself slide down the side onto the floor of your shower. The water streaming down onto your already burning skin is way too hot, yet you don't care. You don't deserve nice warm showers. No, you deserve scolding hot showers that makes your skin feel like it's going to fall off. A sob breaks out of your body, causing your shoulder to rumble along with it. You tried so hard to stop yourself from crying. But now you let it all out. Every emotion, every pent up bit of anger, every sad thought. It all comes it whether you want it to or not. Whines and groans come out of your mouth along with the sobs. You know the other pack members can hear you, not just crying, but also through your mental bond. Their voices and questions of concern are being blocked out by you. The only thing you can hear if your own sobbing and a dull ringing in your ears.

You don't know how long you've sat in the shower, but you do know that you're going to have a ridiculously high water bill this month. When you get out of the shower and have gotten dressed in a simple pair of sweat pants and a sweater you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You stop in your track and stare at your own reflection. Your face seems foreign to you. Your normally gleeful eyes are now puffy and look so sickly that you might as well be dead. Your lips are broken from all the screaming and biting at them you've done. It looks weird to see yourself look so broken, but then again, it is said that rejection by your imprint is sometimes not even survived. " What's going on? ". You jump a little as you quickly turn around to see Paul standing behind you. He's leaning against the doorframe, glancing between you and the mirror. " Nothing, you lie. ".

" Oh, come one. We can hear your thoughts, remember? " he says as he taps his temple with his pointer finger. You nod, still looking down at the ground. When you remain quiet, Paul sighs and pulls you into a hug. You freeze at first. He never hugged you, or anyone for that matter. " Those bloodsuckers rejected you? ". You nod as you bury your face into his chest. You needed this. A hug, to help ground you and get you back to reality. " They don't deserve you, you know? ".

" I think I...I think I need to go away for a while, " you keep your voice soft while you speak to try and keep it from cracking. Paul nods before he lets his chin rest on top of your head. " How about Italy? The weather is a lot better there. I know some people there, " Paul suggests. You pull him closer to you. Italy. Nice, warm Italy. Away from Emmett and Rosalie, away from the pack. It will hurt like shit, but it's the best for you. A fresh start. A normal life. No vampires living right next door, no pack fights, no drama between Jacob, Bella and Edward. Just you and Italy. " Yeah, it sounds nice, "

---

Two months. Two months without cloudly Forks. It has done you good. Extremely good. You didn't realize how depressed that place made you until you left. The moment you felt the comforting Italian sun hit your skin was the moment you knew you made the right choice. You didn't talk to Paul's friends a lot. You got a place of your own after a couple of weeks, due to how small the town was everyone who was trying to sell their house was practically begging you to buy their house. You picked up your hobby of tinkering again, now using to be a mechanic though. The town needed one so you were happy to oblige. It was refreshing to have new faces around and a new environment. The sadness that once had its grip on your has disappeared, now only present in dark memories.

You pick up an apple that is laying on your kitchen table before making your way out of your house and towards your work. Not many costumers would come in, if at all. A festival is being celebrated in a nearby town. Naturally, almost everyone in the village has gone there to have a party. You didn't want to do that though, be around people and all. Plus this new free time would give you time to catch up with work and make some preparations for the next day. The walk to your work is short, yet you still enjoy it every day. Back in Forks, you hated the sound of the birds singing but here you enjoy it so much. The birds sing a different song here. One of joy instead of sadness.

" Buongiorno, " you say to your coworker as you walk into the store. Your Italian is far from perfect but it's getting better every day. " Come va? " your coworker, Piero, asks. " Bene. And you? ". He just nods at you with a smile before he resumes to fix what looks like a clock. You really couldn't tell though, most things that come to the store for fixing are broken beyond recognition. You sit down at your workspace and take in the mess that is laying before you. You need to clean that, definitely. You have enough time today to do so anyways

Going for a stroll through the city isn't something the twins would normally do but today was an exception. A sudden rainstorm has been hovering over the area, blocking out the sun and allowing them to go outside without fear. That and the fact that most inhabitants of San Cipriano were now in Volterra for the festival. They dressed down, replacing their usual robes with a dress in Jane's case and jeans and a sweater for Alec. They talked about normal things like the new store that just opened up down the block and books they've read. It feels nice to them to feel so normal. Anyone who saw them would think that they are just a brother and sister enjoying the cool afternoon weather and not two vampires who work for the three kings.

" They have this machine that can induce dreams, " Alec says as he tries to explain the plot of ' Inception ' to Jane. She nods as she only half listens to his story, more focussed on watching a group of children play hide and seek on the other side of the road. The two siblings are sitting on a bench right next to the cemetery, ironically enough. " Sounds fascinating, " Janes says.

Alec nods before resuming his explanation. Jane enjoys seeing her brother so happy. They were both way too serious for their age, not having enjoyed their childhood years as they should have. Seeing him so passionate and happy about something surely put a smile on her face. Alec stops his words however when a sudden gust of winds blows a particularly sweet smell towards them. Both siblings look at each other as they inhale the scent. " Apple, " Jane says

" And rust. Delicious, " Alec adds. Jane slowly points towards the direction of your store. Alec nods and stands up from the bench, getting what his sister means. Both twins slowly stroll to your shop, they want to see who this scent is coming from but at the same time are to content to feel any sort of rush.

The sound of a bell ringing notifies you that someone entered the shop. " Un momento! " you call out from the back of the shop. You quickly wipe the oil that has been building up of your hands with a cloth before making your way to the front of the store to help the new costumers out. The moment you lay your eyes on the twins is when the world stops. You'd be lying to say that they aren't beautiful. Every birthmark on their skins seems so perfect that it has had to be placed there by the angels themselves. A sudden rush of adrenaline fills your body. Every detail about them become highlighted. You know this feeling, you know what this means. You didn't think you could imprint again but here you are, imprinting on the twins. Apparently, your wolf seems to have a preference for imprinting on duos. " I...I...Can I.... ". Your mind can't seem to form words at the moment. It's too busy with taking the twins in, to memorise every single thing about them.

The moment your mind starts to get clearer, you can start to smell them. The dry, campfire-like smell that comes of them suddenly starts to make sense. Vampire. Of course, you had to imprint on vampires again. Jane and Alec also caught the hint of dog and forest in your scent, both realizing that they're in deep shit now. They know you're their mate, they didn't need to notify the other on it. The way they both feel this need to protect you and the way your scent has intoxicated them both said enough. " You're our mate, " Jane says softly. Her usually cold and stern voice now sounds honey sweet.

The realisation of the whole situation only seems to be catching up to you now. The whole two months you spent here, trying to rebuild your life and your mental health seems to be for nothing now. They will reject you. Those words seem to float around your head. You shake your head softly, feeling tears pricking up into your eyes. You take a couple of steps back and away from them. " I-I'm sorry. I can't. Not now, " you say before disappearing into the back of the shop and leaving the confused twins behind in the shop.

You can feel your wolf aching under your skin, begging to be let out. You rush out of the store through the backdoor. You chose your place of work strategically, right next to the forest, which you are very thankful for right now. You let your walls down and let the wolf in you come forth. The ache under your skin stops as your shift begins. Within seconds you're in your wolf form. Tall and frightening for most you stand there for a second, looking back at the store before making a run for it and into the forest. You sit there in your own mind, drowning in your own thoughts as the wolf takes control of your body. Normally, you would try to at least have a sliver of self-control, not now, however. Now you want nothing more than to get lost into the woods.

It doesn't feel like your in your own body, it feels like your floating above it. Memories is all your seeing. Rosalie and Emmett screaming at you. The disgusted looks in their eyes and the harsh words them threw at you without a second thought. They'll do the same. You're sure of it. How could a vampire ever love you? How could someone ever love you?

---

Wet grass brushes against your cheek. The prominent smell of dirt and daisies fills your nose. Slowly, you open your eyes. You're laying on your back, which you only realize now. You stare up at the dark sky above you. The sun is long gone. Now it's replaced by the moon and a thousand stars. It must be later than three a.m. Maybe even later. You should probably move and get inside before you catch a cold but you can't bring yourself to do so. You're to mentally and physically drained from your shift earlier this evening. After regaining yourself, you finally find the strength to get up from the grass. Every bone in your body aches as you stand up for the first time in hours. You stretch a little, getting used to your human form again. Slowly but surely you walk to your front door. The warmth that meets you the moment you open your door falls over you like a blanket. Sudden tiredness washes over you. You let out a jawn as you walk over to your living room, reading to crash on your couch.

Instead of an empty couch, you find two vampires sitting on it, the same there were in the shop earlier. " What are you doing on my house? " you ask. Your body fills with adrenaline again. A warm fuzz fills your brain now that you're around your imprints. " I'm Jane, ". You nod at her statement.

" Cool, and I'm very fucking confused about why you're in my house. ". Both twins laugh a little at your joke. " You got humour in you, alright. " Alec says. You nod, slowly walking a little more towards them. You hate that you're so drawn to them. They like us. You stop in your steps. Why could you hear Jane's thoughts? Is this another part of this weird vampire-imprint thing?

" I'm sure that you have some question, " Alec begins. You cut him off before he can finish his sentence thought. " Yeah like why two members of the Volturi are in my house. ". Both look at you with big eyes, confused as to how you know them. You throw your arms up in the air. " Oh come one, I lived in the same town as the Cullens! You guys came over like every other weekend for Bella and Edward! ".

You sit down on your couch. Letting your elbows rest on your knees so your hands can hold your head up. You let out a deep sigh. Why did this kind of shit always happen to you? " Look, I know you won't want me and that's fine. Just break the news to me, we don't have to tiptoe around it, " you say, just trying to get them to get to the point. Alec's hand is suddenly underneath your chin. He angles your head in a way so that you're looking up at him. " You think we don't want you? ". You nod.

" No, don't ever think that, " Jane says as she sits down beside you. " It's maybe a bit...unusual to have a wolf as a mate but we definitely want you. If you want us. ". You can't help the small smile from spreading onto your face. They want you. They didn't reject you or call you a dog. " Of course I want you, have you seen yourself? You're both hot. ". The twins send each other a smile. Jane gets up from the couch and stands in front of you next to Alec. She holds her hand out for you to grab. " Come home with us. ". You nod at her before grabbing her hand. Finally, you can go to a home where you're loved.

---

The ringing of the phone seems to go on so long that you're afraid you're calling won't be picked up. You wanted to call home, to tell them how well you're doing. You just hope that someone will pick up. Finally, the call gets picked up. " Hello? " Seth says on the other side of the line. " Seth! " you call out happily. The annoyance in his voice is gone in an instant and replaced by happiness. " Y/n! You called! How are you? ".

" Better than ever, " you say happily, glancing over at Jane and Alec who is standing on the other side of the room talking to Demitri and Felix. You know that they are probably listing along to your call but you don't care. " I'm really good. I um...I imprinted again. ". You wait anxiously for Seth's response. " Really? That's great! Who is it? ".

You and Seth continue to talk for another thirty minutes. Back home things are going great for him and the pack as well. Apparently, Emmett and Rosalie are really sorry but you couldn't care less about them. Not now that you have Jane and Alec. " It was nice to talk to you again. Give my greetings to the rest, yeah? Bye-bye. ". You hang up the call. Within a second, Jane and Alec are standing next to you, both giving you a questioning look.

" He's happy for me. Really happy, " you say with a bright smile on your face. Alec grabs your hand and gives you a kiss on top of your knuckles. " See, I know he would be. ". You nod at his comment. You stand there for a moment before pulling both the twins in for a hug. They wrap their arms around you. Sure, it's a little awkward to hug with three people, but it's comforting at the same time. You take in their scent. At first, you hated the smell of vampire but now it smells like home. You feel happy, truly and utterly happy. Maybe someone could love you after all.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST:

@scuzmunkie​ @thanossexual​ @prettyinblack231​

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXLIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I knew ppl were going to drop my fic in this book bc I made things complicated but I don’t regret the plot— did it still made me sad? yes it sure did -Danny

Words: 5,256

Series’ Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘No Control’ -by Dylan Reynolds

Chapter Five: The New Routine.

Dumbledore knocked on the door three times and Mrs Weasley's voice was quick to answer.

"Who's there? Declare yourself!"

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry. Mel and Erick are with us."

"Harry, dear!" Mrs Weasley opened the door at once, letting them in. "Mel! Erick! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!"

"We were lucky, Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. The children's doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"

"Hello, Professor... Wotcher, kids."

"Hi, Tonks."

Tonks was looking remarkably grim, Mel looked around the kitchen.

"Where's my mum?"

"I told her to go to bed," Mrs Weasley said sweetly, "it's almost midnight, the baby kept her up last night and she needed to sleep."

"I'd better be off," Tonks stood up. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

"Please don't leave on my account," said Dumbledore, "I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."

"No, no, I need to get going," She replied. "'Night —"

"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming — ?"

"My uncle's coming?" Mel asked with excitement.

"No, really, Molly... thanks anyway..." Tonks said tensely. "Good night, everyone."

"Well, I shall see you at Hogwarts," Dumbledore told them. "Take care of yourself. Molly, your servant."

He and Tonks disapparated, Erick spoke up.

"You have a lovely house, Mrs Weasley."

"Oh dear, well, we do make an effort on making it cosy," Mrs Weasley smiled.  "You're like Ron, all of you, you look as though you've had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron's grown four inches since I last bought him school robes. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"A bit," Erick agreed.

Mel sat down between them, she was quite pleased about Mrs Weasley's comment on her growth, even though hers was less noticeable than the boys' who now were five and seven inches taller than her.

Crookshanks and Grey quickly made their way to them. Grey didn't like Erick very much, though Mel didn't know why. Crookshanks, on the other hand, was a huge fan.

"So Hermione's here?" Harry asked as he watched the ginger cat ruin the impeccable set of clothes Erick was wearing.

"Oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday. Everyone's in bed, of course, we didn't expect you for hours. Here you are — Bread, dears?"

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley."

"So you persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?"

"It wasn't hard," Mel smiled. "Professor Slughorn was eager to get to know us better."

"He taught Arthur and me. He was at Hogwarts for ages, started around the same time as Dumbledore, I think. Did you like him?"

Harry and Erick shrugged, Mel kept her attention on her plate.

"I know what you mean... Of course he can be charming when he wants to be, but Arthur's never liked him much. The Ministry's littered with Slughorn's old favorites, he was always good at giving leg ups, but he never had much time for Arthur — didn't seem to think he was enough of a highflier. Well, that just shows you, even Slughorn makes mistakes. I don't know whether Ron's told you in any of his letters — it's only just happened — but Arthur's been promoted!"

Harry made a funny noise, taken by surprise. Erick did a sort of delighted hum and Mel stopped eating, staring at her attentively.

"That's great!" Harry said.

"You are sweet... Yes, Rufus Scrimgeour has set up several new offices in response to the present situation, and Arthur's heading the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. It's a big job, he's got ten people reporting to him now!"

"Sounds important," Erick smiled.

"What exactly — ?"

"Well, you see, in all the panic about You-Know-Who, odd things have been cropping up for sale everywhere, things that are supposed to guard against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. You can imagine the kind of thing — so-called protective potions that are really gravy with a bit of bubotuber pus added, or instructions for defensive jinxes that actually make your ears fall off..."

Mrs Weasley looked beyond proud as she told them all about her husband's new job. Mel was happy for him, she couldn't think of a man who deserved a promotion more than Mr Weasley.

"...So you see, it's a very important job, and I tell him it's just silly to miss dealing with spark plugs and toasters and all the rest of that Muggle rubbish."

"Well, the heart wants what it wants," Mel chuckled, she was unaware of the way both boys looked at her.

"Is Mr Weasley still at work?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, he is. As a matter of fact, he's a tiny bit late... He said he'd be back around midnight..."

Mel felt something awful crawling up her chest when she noticed all the tiny hands on the clock were now pointing at 'Mortal peril'.

"It's been like that for a while now," Mrs Weasley commented, "ever since You-Know-Who came back into the open. I suppose everybody's in mortal danger now... I don't think it can be just our family... but I don't know anyone else who's got a clock like this, so I can't check. Oh!"

Mr Weasley's was now currently pointing at 'travelling.'

"He's coming!" She got up, a second later there was a knock on the door. "Arthur, is that you?"

"Yes. But I would say that even if I were a Death Eater, dear. Ask the question!"

"Oh, honestly..."

"Molly!"

"All right, all right... What is your dearest ambition?"

"To find out how airplanes stay up."

Mel and Harry shared a look of amusement, she heard Erick mumbling 'How do they stay up?' Mrs Weasley tried to open the door but her husband kept it shut.

"Molly! I've got to ask you your question first!"

"Arthur, really, this is just silly..."

"What do you like me to call you when we're alone together?"

The group of teenagers froze.

"Mollywobbles," Mrs Weasley whispered to the tiny crack in the door.

Mel choked on the soup, Harry had to hide his face entirely to control his laughing fit after watching her almost die, Erick quickly patted her back.

"Correct," Mr Weasley said brightly. "Now you can let me in."

"I still don't see why we have to go through that every time you come home!" Mrs Weasley complained as the man walked in. "I mean, a Death Eater might have forced the answer out of you before impersonating you!"

"I know, dear, but it's Ministry procedure, and I have to set an example. Something smells good — onion soup? Kids! We didn't expect you until morning!"

They all greeted Mr Weasley, Mel finally able to breathe and Harry able to speak without cracking up.

"Thanks, Molly," He said when the woman set a plate for him. "It's been a tough night. Some idiot's started selling Metamorph-Medals. Just sling them around your neck and you'll be able to change your appearance at will. A hundred thousand disguises, all for ten Galleons!"

"And what really happens when you put them on?"

"Mostly you just turn a fairly unpleasant orange color, but a couple of people have also sprouted tentaclelike warts all over their bodies. As if St. Mungo's didn't have enough to do already!"

"It sounds like the sort of thing Fred and George would find funny," said Mrs Weasley with doubt. "Are you sure — ?"

"Of course I am! The boys wouldn't do anything like that now, not when people are desperate for protection!"

"So is that why you're late, Metamorph-Medals?"

"No, we got wind of a nasty backfiring jinx down in Elephant and Castle, but luckily the Magical Law Enforcement Squad had sorted it out by the time we got there..."

Harry yawned beside her, Mel was starting to feel weary herself after days of sleeping in the backseat of a car.

"Bed," said Mrs Weasley. "I've got Fred and George's room all ready for you, boys. Mel, you're sharing Ginny's bedroom but I don't want you to wake the girls up. Is it okay if you sleep with Erick and Harry tonight?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Mel yawned, too sleepy to care.

"Where are the twins?" Harry asked.

"Oh, they're in Diagon Alley, sleeping in the little flat over their joke shop as they're so busy," said Mrs Weasley, and Mel could tell there was a hint of pride in her voice. "I must say, I didn't approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business! Come on, dears, your trunks are already up there."

"'Night, Mr Weasley," said Harry.

"Thank you for letting us stay," Erick added.

"Have a goodnight!" Mel ended.

"G'night," said Mr Weasley.

Mel had been in the twins' room a couple of times through the years, it was startling when she walked in and couldn't recognize it. The smell of fireworks was still hanging in the air and there was a few boxes of their personal items laying around, but almost nothing left from their essence in the room, it made her feel homesick.

There were only two beds since they weren't expected until the next morning. Mrs Weasley quickly made a third bed appear with a flick of her wand, it was smaller than the other two, mostly blankets and cushions piled together. She apologized profusely, but Mel didn't mind, she would've slept on the floor considering how exhausted she was.

The boys insisted that she took one of their beds but Mel refused, when she came back from changing Erick was already tucked in her pile of blankets. Harry was grinning at the way his feet were hanging over the edge.

The following morning she was awoken by the door slamming open and a pair of feet stomping into the room. She hid her face between the pillows, Harry's mattress squeaked as he sat up, and fabric rustled as Erick pushed down his blankets.

"Wuzzgoinon?" Harry asked sleepily.

"We didn't know you were here already!" There was a soft thud coming from Harry's bed after Ron sat down on it.

"Ron, don't hit him!" Hermione sat on Mel's bed.

"Dear Merlin," She groaned, hiding under the covers. "I'm going to murder you two..."

"All right?" Ron asked.

"Never been better," said Harry, sounding a bit more awake. "You?"

"Not bad."

"I knew there was no way I'd have a quiet morning here," Erick grumbled. "Hi, 'Mione..."

"Hi!" She said brightly, then shook one of Mel's legs. "Wake up! I want to hear all you did during your mission!"

"When did you get here? Mum's only just told us!" Ron said.

"About one o'clock this morning," Harry replied, Mel turned around and squinted, trying to get used to the sunlight.

"Were the Muggles all right? Did they treat you okay?"

"Same as usual... they didn't talk to me much, but I like it better that way. How're you, Hermione?"

"Oh, I'm fine."

"What's the time? Have we missed breakfast?" Harry said.

"Don't worry about that, Mum's bringing you up a tray; she reckons you look underfed," said Ron.

"Well, he is," Mel replied, finally sitting up. "You should've seen my mum — almost forced the food down his throat once..."

Harry threw a pillow at her, but he missed by a considerable distance.

"So, what's been going on?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Nothing much, I've just been stuck at my aunt and uncle's, haven't I?"

"And we just had a road trip around some towns," Erick said, getting out of his covers only to sit down on Harry's bed.

"Come off it!" said Ron. "You've been off with Dumbledore!"

"It wasn't that exciting. He just wanted us to help him persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. His name's Horace Slughorn."

"Oh... We thought —" Hermione hushed him, Ron was quick to correct his mistake. "— we thought it'd be something like that."

"You did?" Harry grinned.

"Yeah... yeah, now Umbridge has left, obviously we need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, don't we? So, er, what's he like?"

"He looks a bit like a walrus, and he used to be Head of Slytherin," Harry shrugged, then he glanced back at their friend and raised a brow. "Something wrong, Hermione?"

The girl gave a start, straightening in her place.

"No, of course not! So, um, did Slughorn seem like he'll be a good teacher?"

"Well, he's got a sharp mind no doubt," Erick yawned, laying on the mattress.

"He can't be worse than Umbridge, can he?" added Harry, softly kicking Erick to move him away from his legs.

"I know someone who's worse than Umbridge," Ginny walked in sulking. "Hi, guys."

"What's up with you?" Ron questioned.

"It's her, she's driving me mad."

"What's she done now?" asked Hermione.

"It's the way she talks to me — you'd think I was about three!"

"I know, she's so full of herself..."

"You better not be talking about my mum," Mel joked.

"Can't you two lay off her for five seconds?" Ron scoffed.

"Oh, that's right, defend her! We all know you can't get enough of her," Ginny rolled her eyes.

Harry and Mel shared a confused look, and just when he was about to ask the door opened again. The boy pulled up his covers so fast that Erick fell to the floor.

"Oh," Mel said quietly, staring up at Fleur Delacour.

"Children," she said brightly. "Eet 'as been too long!"

Mrs Weasley walked in right after her, looking upset.

"There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!"

"Eet was no trouble," Fleur left the tray floating between their beds and kissed her and Harry on both cheeks. Erick got up with a scowl, he shook Fleur's hand, not letting her touch him any further. "I 'ave been longing to see you. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about 'Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again."

"Oh... is she here too?" Harry asked.

"No, no, silly boy," Fleur laughed, "I mean next summer, when we — but do you not know?"

"We hadn't got around to telling him yet," Mrs Weasley said grumpily.

"Bill and I are going to be married!"

"Oh," said Harry, looking back at Mel begging her to help him. "Wow. Er — congratulations!"

"That's brilliant," Mel was unsure of how to react, none of the other women in the room looked happy.

"Bill is very busy at ze moment, working very 'ard, and I only work part-time at Gringotts for my Eenglish, so he brought me 'ere for a few days to get to know 'is family properly. I was so pleased to 'ear you would be coming — zere isn't much to do 'ere, unless you like cooking and chickens! Well — enjoy your breakfast!"

She turned around and left the room with a joyous air, then Emily walked in, holding her son.

"Hi kids," She smiled.

Mel jumped out of bed and gave her mother a big hug. She took her baby brother and kissed him all over his small face. Mrs Weasley muttered something Mel could not hear, Ginny inched closer and started to play with Reggie's little fingers.

"Mum hates her," the girl told her, clearly talking about Fleur.

"I do not hate her! I just think they've hurried into this engagement, that's all!"

"Well, it's not like we all have time to spare, do we?" Emily asked carefully, brushing the hair away from Mel's forehead.

"They've known each other a year," said Ron crossly.

"Well, that's not very long! I know why it's happened, of course. It's all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and center—"

"Including you and Dad," Ginny smirked.

"Yes, well, your father and I were made for each other, what was the point in waiting? Whereas Bill and Fleur... well... what have they really got in common? He's a hard-working, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she's —"

"A cow," Ginny replied. "But Bill's not that down-to-earth. He's a Curse-Breaker, isn't he, he likes a bit of adventure, a bit of glamour... I expect that's why he's gone for Phlegm."

"That's exactly what people used to say about me and Matthew," Emily raised a brow. "Now they tell me we were the perfect couple! You see, time's all it takes to change one's opinion, I think we shouldn't talk about relationships that aren't ours."

"I think she's lovely," Mel shrugged, softly kissing her brother's cheek. "You guys are being too harsh on her. I mean, Ginny, you're beautiful —"

"I'm sorry, Mel, I have a boyfriend," She joked.

"— But that doesn't mean you're silly, does it?" Mel sat down on her bed. "Have you forgotten how nice she was to Ron after he helped her sister?"

Mrs Weasley left looking rather tired, Emily kissed Mel, Harry and Erick on the cheek before leaving, leaving Leon Regulus in the room.

"Don't you get used to her if she's staying in the same house?" Harry chuckled, staring at the way Ron was struggling to breathe.

"Well, you do... but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then..."

"It's pathetic," said Hermione, without even asking she took Regulus out of Mel's hold, ignoring the girl's protests.

"I feel your pain, Ronnie, don't listen to them," Mel sighed, leaning back on the bed frame.

"You don't really want her around forever?" Ginny insisted. "Well, Mum's going to put a stop to it if she can, I bet you anything."

"She shouldn't!" Mel replied. "What would you feel if you were deeply in love with someone and everyone tried to keep you away from them? You're own family!"

"How's she going to manage that, anyway?" asked Harry.

"She keeps trying to get Tonks round for dinner. I think she's hoping Bill will fall for Tonks instead. I hope he does, I'd much rather have her in the family."

"Yeah, that'll work," Ron snorted. "Listen, no bloke in his right mind's going to fancy Tonks when Fleur's around. I mean, Tonks is okay-looking when she isn't doing stupid things to her hair and her nose, but —"

"She's a damn sight nicer than Phlegm,'' Ginny made a face of disgust.

"And she's more intelligent, she's an Auror!" said Hermione, Reggie cried a bit and Ginny took it away from Hermione.

"Fleur's not stupid, she was good enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament," Harry argued.

"Not you as well!" Hermione scowled.

"I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ' 'Arry,' do you?" Ginny huffed.

"No," said Harry, blushing a bit, "I was just saying, Phlegm — I mean, Fleur —"

"Oh, please," Mel snorted. "You're just upset because Bill is your favourite brother, Ginny — you're scared he'll stop hanging out here once he marries Fleur. Hermione, I know you're lying, you're not angry because she isn't smart enough for your standards."

Hermione blushed a deep shade of red.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you don't," She grinned. "But you know she's not any of those things, I know you do. I mean, so what if she's confident, as long as she loves Bill like he deserves, right? Don't you want him to be happy?"

Ginny looked at Reggie for a long time, then she sighed heavily.

"I would like her to respect our way of handling the house, that's all..."

"That's understandable," Mel nodded. "But she's the one having to get used to the Weasleys, and if I may give my opinion, you guys are as peculiar as any French girl."

Ginny's face showed a small grin.

"In my opinion," Erick spoke casually, grabbing a toast from the tray. "Fleur's too ostentatious — but she knows how to use her charm, which means she's got a brain. Joseph told me she was a great conversationalist—"

"Can't you talk like a normal bloke?" Ron frowned. "Do you like her, yes or no?"

"I'm saying she's nice."

"Nice?" The redheaded boy asked in bewilderment.

"She's not my type," The older boy rolled his eyes.

"What's your type, then?" Ron demanded.

Erick threw a quick glance at Mel before replying.

"Friendly."

"Okay, maybe Mel's right," Ginny continued, Reggie started to get restless and she swayed him a bit from side to side. "But I still get along with Tonks better, at least she's a laugh..."

"Well, she can still come and hang out, but you can't force love."

"She hasn't been much of a laugh lately though," Ron pointed out. "Every time I've seen her she's looked more like Moaning Myrtle."

"That's not fair," Hermione frowned. "She still hasn't got over what happened... you know... I mean, he was her cousin!"

Harry quickly looked down and busied himself with a spoonful of eggs, Mel grabbed a cup of tea and drank half of it in one large sip.

"Tonks and Sirius barely knew each other! Sirius was in Azkaban half her life and before that their families never met —"

"That's not the point — She thinks it was her fault he died!"

"How does she work that one out?" Harry asked, his mouth half-full.

"Well, she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn't she? I think she feels that if only she had finished her off, Bellatrix couldn't have killed Sirius."

Mel tried to remember, there was a huge part of that night she couldn't recall.

"That's stupid," said Ron.

"It's survivor's guilt. I know Lupin's tried to talk her round, but she's still really down. She's actually having trouble with her Metamorphosing!"

"With her — ?"

"She can't change her appearance like she used to. I think her powers must have been affected by shock, or something."

"I didn't know that could happen," said Harry.

"Nor did I, but I suppose if you're really depressed..."

Mel suddenly looked down at her hands and gulped. She hadn't tried to do any kind of magic ever since she'd come back from the Ministry, now a new fear was rising above everything else, the possibility of not being able to be as good as before because of her anguish.

"Ginny," Mrs Weasley walked in again, "come downstairs and help me with the lunch."

"I'm talking to this lot!" Ginny exclaimed, her attention quickly leaving Mel's brother.

"Now!"

"She only wants me there so she doesn't have to be alone with Fleur! Emily's too tired all the time, mum doesn't let her do anything..." The girl got up to leave the room, but Mel stopped her.

"Hey, give that baby back!" She demanded. "I was holding him first!"

Ron stood up and took the baby, claiming no one ever allowed him to play with him. Ginny turned around swiftly, mocking the way Fleur would usually move, once she got to the door she looked over her shoulder one last time before leaving.

"You lot had better come down quickly too!"

Harry, Mel and Erick ate silently while Hermione examined some boxes, Ron was now playing with Reg.

"What's this?" Hermione held up a small telescope.

"Dunno, but if Fred and George've left it here, it's probably not ready for the joke shop yet, so be careful."

"Your mum said the shop's going well," Harry mentioned. "Said Fred and George have got a real flair for business."

"That's an understatement. They're raking in the Galleons! I can't wait to see the place, we haven't been to Diagon Alley yet, because Mum says Dad's got to be there for extra security and he's been really busy at work, but it sounds excellent."

"And what about Percy? Is he talking to your mum and dad again?"

"Nope."

"What a git," Erick muttered, drinking his tea while watching Hermione examine the telescope.

"But he knows your dad was right all along now about Voldemort being back —"

"Dumbledore says people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right," said Hermione. "I heard him telling your mum, Ron."

"Sounds like the sort of mental thing Dumbledore would say," said Ron.

Mel didn't try to contradict him this time.

"He's going to be giving me private lessons this year," Harry said casually. "Mel already finished hers and he'll have time to teach me."

Hermione gasped, Erick merely looked up from his food.

"You kept that quiet!" Ron exclaimed, Mel's brother slipping from his hold without him noticing.

"I only just remembered. He told me last night in your broom shed."

"Blimey... private lessons with Dumbledore! And he said you're ready to go, Mel? I wonder why he's—?"

"Careful with Lee before you drop him flat on the floor!" Mel scowled. "I see why no one lets you hold him..."

"I don't know exactly why he's going to be giving me lessons, but I think it must be because of the prophecy," Harry continued to speak, eyes fixed on his food. "You know, the one they were trying to steal at the Ministry..."

Erick pulled out his wand and with a quick movement, his plate started to follow him around the room. He took Leon Regulus and mumbled something about the baby needing a nap and Ginny needing help back in the kitchen. Mel wished she could've left with him.

"Nobody knows what it said, though," said Hermione once the Slytherin was gone. "Mel broke it."

"Although the Prophet says —" Ron started.

"Shh!" Hermione interrupted.

"The Prophet's got it right," Harry forced himself to look up. "That glass ball Mel destroyed wasn't the only record of the prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office, he was the one the prophecy was made to, so he could tell me. From what it said... it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort... At least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."

She wished she could've spent at least one day without thinking about the prophecy, but Harry had to live knowing that he'd have to face Voldemort, so she couldn't complain.

BANG!

Hermione vanished behind a cloud of dark smoke.

"Hermione!" shouted the three of them.

The girl stood up, coughing.

"I squeezed it and it — it punched me!"

"Don't worry," said Ron biting his lip so he wouldn't laugh, "Mum'll fix that, she's good at healing minor injuries —"

"Oh well, never mind that now!" said Hermione, pushing it aside. "Harry, oh, Harry... We wondered, after we got back from the Ministry... Obviously, we didn't want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the prophecy, how it was about you and Voldemort, well, we thought it might be something like this... Oh, Harry... Are you scared?"

"Not as much as I was," Harry shrugged. "When I first heard it, I was... but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end..."

"When we heard Dumbledore was collecting you in person, we thought he might be telling you something or showing you something to do with the prophecy. And we were kind of right, weren't we? He wouldn't be giving you lessons if he thought you were a goner, wouldn't waste his time — he must think you've got a chance!"

"Of course he does!" Mel got up, starting to pick up the pieces of the tray that had smashed when the boys ran to help Hermione. "Harry's a great wizard, we just need to teach him how to fight..."

Her friends looked at her with pity, they must've been thinking of her lifeline connection with Harry and how it could affect her, but Mel couldn't look afraid or else they wouldn't believe her words.

"Guys, we'll get through this..." Mel looked down a the tiny scars on her palm, rubbing them gently.

"That's true," said Hermione. "I wonder what he'll teach you, Harry? Really advanced defensive magic, probably... powerful countercurses... anti-jinxes... probably the same things he taught to Mel. And evasive enchantments generally— Well, at least you know one lesson you'll be having this year, that's one more than Ron and me. I wonder when our O.W.L. results will come?"

"Can't be long now, it's been a month," said Ron.

"Hang on, I think Dumbledore said our O.W.L. results would be arriving today!"

"Yeah, that's true!" Mel admitted, leaving the broken plates on the desk.

"Today? Today? But why didn't you — oh my God — you should have said —" Hermione squeaked. "I'm going to see whether any owls have come..."

Ron and Hermione left the room quickly, Harry and her were left alone, but this felt a thousand times less awkward than a year before.

"Thank you," Harry said, helping her fold the blankets.

"I didn't do anything. You know they're scared, even if they don't show it..."

"I'm thanking you because it must be hard for you as well, not to show it," He tilted his head. "Usually, you're an open book..."

"I used to be," She corrected. "My feelings are just mine, Harry, and no one else needs to know about them."

He frowned.

"Still, you know it's better not to hold things in, right?"

Mel stared at him.

"Look at you, teaching me about how to handle my emotions!"

The boy let out a chuckle and reached to hold her hand.

"It's going to be okay, Mellow."

She melted at the name, it'd been a long time since he'd called her that. She looked down again at her scarred hand, and that stirred her into talking. An idea started to take form in her mind.

"What if there's a chance you don't have to be the only chosen one?"

Harry blinked.

"What?"

"What if I am your backup?"

"H-How would that even..?"

"Think about it," Mel started. "I was there when he tried to kill you, and that's when our connection was created — it grows stronger when you inch closer to death... What if the reason we can feel each other's pain, is because it warns us about the incoming danger? What if the reason we're connected it's because I'm destined to take your place if you die?"

"But — but the prophecy said it was a boy —"

"Prophecies can change, you're not obliged to copy them exactly as they're told! Even Dumbledore thought I could be the child of the prophecy! What if, in a way, we both are?"

"It doesn't mean anything, Mel. I chose to be —"

"Who says I can't choose to help you?" She lifted her right hand. "I marked myself with the prophecy, see? If we do this together we'll have a real advantage. We even promised it back in the ministry, didn't we? If you die I take your place, if I die —"

"I make sure is not in vain," Harry had finally made up his mind. "D'you think Dumbledore knows? Do you think that's why he wants us to decide for ourselves what we'll do with our lifeline?"

"I have no idea," Mel responded sincerely. "But if we're doing this, we need to set the rules now."

Harry thought about it, then he grabbed her hands and squeezed them lightly.

"Let's talk."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​​​​ @vampiregirl1797​​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​​ @stardusthigh​​​​ @mikariell95​​​​ @vernon-dursley​​​​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​​​​ @tomshollandz​​​​ ​​ @reverse-hxlland​​​​ @hamiltonwc​​​​ @omiwashere​​​​ @t-rexs-world​​​​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs​​​​ @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee​​​​ @thelastpyle​​​ @cedricisnotdead​​​ @aconfusedslytherin​

[itsclydebitches]

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first: 

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense. 

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go. 

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3 

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish. 

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it. 

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit. 

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world. 

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

****************************************************************************

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.  

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

The Love Not Yet Known Part 1

Summary: Tommy Shelby needs to make sacrifices to ensure the safety of his family. So he concocts a plan to marry off his sister to the one and only Alfie Solomons.

Requested by @freaknik97

Part 2 will be posted here and on my masterlist

            “Remind me why we’re not doing this at the office?” Arthur grumbled as they watched the car pull up the gravel drive.

            Tommy stood beside his brother in the doorway of Arrow House. His hands were clasped in front of him. “The Italians are here and they’re going to look for allies or enemies. They might see Alfie as a way to weaken us. We need to make sure there’s no chance of that. We can’t have him making side deals like he did last time with the Russians.”

            “Still doesn’t explain why he’s here. This could’ve been done in Birmingham.” Arthur muttered, still not a big fan of Alfie.

            “You’ll find out soon enough, brother. Now let’s greet our guest.”

             At the same time, Eliza Shelby was in the garden with her nephew. They had laid out a blanket and she was reading The Wind in the Willows to him. Although, the little boy wasn’t really paying much attention to his aunt. He was more focused on his toy horses, making them jump little obstacles he constructed out of a pencil from Eliza’s bag and rocks from the lawn.

            Eliza didn’t mind too much. She was a quiet young woman, the polar opposite of John Shelby, her twin. As rowdy as her brothers were, she was eager to please her parents and wanted to show them how grown up she was. She found solace in books and used them to escape the unstable life of Small Heath. As she grew, her concern shifted to bettering herself rather than trying to please her family. After all, they didn’t see much merit in education. She wanted to lift herself out of the poverty she grew up in and the stigma surrounding her family. But she learned that the last name Shelby was nearly impossible to shake off. As Tommy wreaked havoc, she dealt with the consequences.   

            Besides, her heart would always be with her family, so she couldn’t exactly abandon them.

            Charlie set his toy horse aside and flipped onto his back to look up at the sunny sky.

            Eliza paused her reading to smile at him. “Can you see anything in the clouds?” She asked.

            “I was looking for mummy. Daddy says that’s where she is.” The little boy pointed up at the sky. “In heaven. Says it’s above the clouds.”

            Her smile faded sadly. “Oh, yes. That’s where she is. She’s always looking down on you to watch after you and keep you safe.” She said gently.

            “Yeah, that’s what Pol says too. Says she’s an angel.”

            Eliza wasn’t sure what else to say. It was difficult talking about Grace to Charlie because he was too young to understand what happened. Eliza treasured her nieces and nephews, treating them as if they were her own children. Of course, in her mid-twenties, it was assumed that she would already have children. All of her siblings, aside from Finn, had children. John had a litter of them. But now they were gone. Left with Esme after John passed.

            She felt her heart sink. It was what made her so wary of relationships. She had known so much loss even at an early age. When she lost John, her twin brother, it felt like a piece of her died. It wasn’t meant to happen like that. They were supposed to grow up together, watch each other’s children, have each other over for holidays, and have the age-old argument about who was really the oldest. Now he was gone and Eliza felt so lonely.

            If she were to find someone and marry, have children too, what if something happened to them? What if she lost her husband or a child? It was possible. Ada and Tommy had both lost their spouses. She saw the hurt in their eyes every single day. Perhaps it was wise just to stay single.

            But unfortunately, her brother had other plans for her.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “Y’know, Tommy, when I heard you bought this place I thought it was a bit out of character for you, right? Tommy Shelby tryna act like an aristocrat? Pft. But looking ‘round here it suits you, don’t it? Cold, empty, dead inside. Just like you, ain’t it?”

            Tommy looked mildly amused at Alfie’s ramblings as they walked into the study. “It’s nice to see you as well, Alfie.”

            “Yeah, well. Thought you’d forgotten ‘bout me.” Alfie turned his attention to the eldest Shelby brother. “’N you, mate. Arthur, I’m so pleased you’re still willing to speak with me.” The graciousness in his voice was obviously just a ploy to rile the man up. It was like a game to him. See what shade of purple he could make Arthur Shelby’s face turn.     

            Arthur just grumbled an incoherent response.

            “You’ve been very forgiving, lately haven’t you? Your whole family has. Think if I ever had a noose tied ‘round me neck and I walked free, well I’d kill the man who put me there in the first place.” Alfie shrugged as if it were nothing more than a casual thought and not a deep cut into the Shelby’s current tension. “But that’s just me, innit?”

            “Alfie, we’re here to discuss a proposition for you,” Tommy said. “

            “That right? Well, I suspect you’re gonna offer me something nice, Tommy, seeing as what a pain in the arse it was driving out here.” Alfie replied. “Sitting in the car that long really does a number on me hip so don’t waste me time.”

            “I know you’re aware of the situation we’re in and I’m sure you’ve already thought of what you’re going to do should you be involved.” Tommy started.

            “S’always good to have a plan for everything, just being savvy,” Alfie replied as he sat down with a grunt. 

            “Seeing as our business relationship has been rocky due to some betrayals…”

            “Aw, now, Tommy don’t say it like that. Little missteps, that’s all they were. Forgiveness, right.” He glanced over at Arthur who looked grumpy with his arms crossed over his chest.

            “I’d like to extend an offering to you that would secure our relationship. Prevent further missteps.” Tommy knew that he had to speak in a way that aligned with Alfie. That way, he would be more inclined to accept the offer.

            “I’m listening, mate.”

            “My sister, John’s twin, has never married. I’d like to offer her hand to you.”

            It was like setting off a grenade in the room. “What!?” Arthur roared. “Tommy, you can’t fucking do that!”

            “Easy, brother,” Tommy replied in a calm voice. “I’ve made up my mind.”

            “Made up-are you joking me? She’s not some pony you can pawn off to someone! Especially not this fucking monster!”

            Alfie appeared thrown off guard. Certainly, he had expected Tommy to offer him something nice to assure there would be no ill will between them. Alfie was prepared to accept whatever it was, not that it would really change his mind about what he might or might not do regarding the Italians. But the offer of marriage was completely out of left field and rendered him a bit speechless.

            Tommy continued to take the rage from his brother, waiting for a pause. When Arthur stormed out of the room to go get Polly, Tommy cleared his throat. “Well?”

            Alfie raised his brow. “Now, mate, I dunno if you’re still suffering from that brain injury of yours or you’ve really lost the plot. But, why on Earth would you think I’d be willing to marry one of your kin? A woman with hot blood like that?” He pointed to the door where Arthur had just left from. “Fucking hell, it’d be like tryna tame a feral wolf.”

            “She’s me sister, Alfie, not a dog.”

            “Then why’re you giving her over to me like she’s yours to give, mate?” Alfie confronted.

            “Come with me.” Tommy stood up and led Alfie out of the study. The man followed him to the solarium that had a good view of the back garden. “There she is.”

            Alfie stepped up to the glass to see a dark-haired beauty sitting amongst the flowers. She had pale green eyes that sparkled in the summer sun and when she smiled at Charlie, Alfie noticed his heart skipped a beat.

            When was the last time the sight of a woman had made him weak in the knees? When he was just a kid? Maybe as a young soldier trying to get a pretty nurse’s attention. As sinful of a man as he was, he was still a man. A man who craved companionship, someone to be there for him when he got older. As it stood, he would end up alone when his life began to wind down to the last days. He thought he deserved such a fate. It was fitting.

            But seeing Eliza in the garden was like opening up a new door of possibilities. One where Alfie didn’t end up alone. Where he had a wife and children always there for him.

            He frowned and turned away, thinking he was crazy for ever having the thought. “You’re desperate enough to give over your sister to a man like me?”

            Tommy didn’t like to admit defeat. “I’m doing it for the benefit of both of us and for my family.”

            “Fucking hell.” He laughed bitterly. “You really are that desperate. Those Italians have you spooked, then, aye? Think you’ll regret this decision in a couple of years?”

            “I have faith you’ll treat her right.”

            He scoffed. “Really?”

            Tommy nodded. “In the bakery, you told me men to stay away from the women in Camden. You put on a good act, Mr. Solomons, but I know you would never harm a woman.

            Alfie wasn’t going to disagree with him, because it was true. He would never do harm to a woman. But he didn’t want to appear weak. So, he tried to give himself an out. “That’s all fine and good, but she ain’t Jewish. So I can’t marry her.”

            Tommy was about to remedy the point when he heard quick footsteps chasing him down.

            “Thomas Shelby have you lost your mind!?” Polly smacked him when she got close enough. “That girl is innocent, you fucking keep her out of this!”

                       Eliza could hear shouting from inside so she looked up to see her family was in the solarium along with an unfamiliar man. Her aunt was shouting at her brother but Eliza couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. “Charlie, why don’t we go find Mary so she can take you for a walk?” She stood up to take her nephew’s hand.

                       “How dare you even think of something like this? You can’t just sell her off. I will not allow this; do you hear me?”

            Polly continued to yell at Tommy until he noticed Eliza enter the room with a confused look on her face.

            “What’s going on?” The young woman asked.

            Polly turned. “Go back outside.”

            “Why? What-what’s wrong?” After John’s death, Eliza was very timid and worried about what might happen to her family next.

            “Eliza, come here.” Tommy beckoned her.

            “Thomas, no, that’s enough!” Polly grabbed her niece by the arms and kept her away from Tommy and Alfie.

            “Pol, you’re scaring me. I don’t get what’s going on.”

            “Liza, this is Alfie Solomons.” Tommy continued as if everything was calm and no one was flying off the handle. “We’ve been talking about a potential arrangement.”

            “Tommy…” Polly said in a warning tone.

            “Arrangement for what?” Eliza was still puzzled.

             “He’s going to marry you off like some gypsy bride!” Arthur snapped.

            Her eyes widened. “Tom? Is that true?”

            Tommy sighed and removed his glasses so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. “Could I have a moment with her alone?” He requested. “Alfie, feel free to walk the grounds, you two,” He pointed his glasses at Polly and Arthur. “Go to the big room.”

            Arthur wasn’t prepared to let Tommy talk their sister into marrying Alfie, but Polly steered him towards the study.

            Eliza was frozen in place with shock, but her eyes moved to the stranger by the glass. Alfie met her eyes for a moment. She took in his appearance. Although much more rugged than she was used to, he had a certain charm to him. There was a mystery about him as well. Eliza was suddenly very curious as she was when it came to characters in the books she read. She wanted to know everything about them. Unravel them to see what made them tick. She wanted to know where the scar on his right cheek came from. Or why he covered it with a beard. She wanted to know why he wore so many rings on his fingers. She wanted to understand the hesitation in his teal colored eyes when he looked at her.

            But that didn’t mean she wanted to marry him.

            When they were alone, Tommy pulled up a chair for his sister. He took a moment to breathe and light up a cigarette.

            Eliza allowed him some space to think. She quietly waited, her eyes continuing to flick to the glass, watching as Alfie walked through the garden. He seemed as if he was trying to appear busy. But his movements showed that his brain was elsewhere. She couldn’t blame him.

            “We’ll be returning to Birmingham tomorrow. I need to have a secure area for the family. But I want you to go to London with Alfie.” He explained steadily.

            Eliza’s stomach was in knots. “I want to stay with everyone else.”

            “Alfie is a wild card, Liza. Either he helps us with the Italians or he hurts us. There’s no staying neutral. I need to make sure that he’s on our side.”

            “So, if he’s married into the family, he won’t betray the family.” It was easy to follow Tommy’s logic. He had done the same thing to her twin. How fitting it was to face the same fate John did. Still, he ended up married to a woman he loved. Maybe it was destiny or simply a coincidence. Eliza just wasn’t sure she wanted to run the same risk.

            “Right.”

            “But even when this is finished, I’ll still be married to him.” She pointed out.

            Her brother didn’t look angry or pleased with himself. His wrinkled forehead showed the conflict he was facing internally. Of course, he didn’t want Eliza to marry Alfie. Every brotherly instinct told him to keep the young woman far away from the gangster. But he needed the threat wiped out. It would just be one less thing to worry about. “There are sacrifices we all need to make. Every single one of us.”

            Eliza swallowed and felt a tear slip down her cheek. “I don’t even know him.”

            Tommy steeled himself. They needed to go through with this. He couldn’t back out. “It’ll be alright.” He promised her gently. “I just…I don’t what else I can do to keep him loyal to us.”

            She wiped her eyes with the edge of her sweater sleeve. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.” She sniffled. “So, I’ll do whatever I can to keep everyone safe.”

To be continued, part 2 will be up soon. 

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe

PB Masterlist

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

♫ Surfing on a soundwave, Swinging through the stars, Take a left at your intestine, Take your second right past mars!

On the Magic School smelly space bus! ♫

SPOILERS for Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #2!

This is a comic where, the longer I sit with a particular issue, the more I’m like, ‘yeah. Yeah. YEAH.’

It’s dense in a way that invites the reader to go through it multiple times, and rewards additional readthroughs.

Also, it helps that the art is FREAKING AMAZING.

Seriously. Evely and Lopes should draw and color everything, forever, always.

(I will honestly be shocked if they don’t get an Eisner nom for this book.)

Anyways, all of this to say: Another issue that I enjoyed. It has one of the most genuinely sweet Supergirl moments I’ve seen in the comics in a good long while.

So, if you’re looking for a quick thumbs up/thumbs down rating, thumbs up!

If you’d like some SPECIFICS, though...

THE STORY

King is an evil genius because we don’t pick up where we left off--rather, we start in the midst of the Space Bus journey.

There is technically a Big Action Scene, but I was honestly surprised by how...casually? the story progressed.

Essentially: Kara and Ruthye are forced to travel by bus because 1.) Krem stole Kara’s rocket and 2.) this corner of the universe doesn’t have the right stars, so Kara’s still recovering from being under a red sun for an extended period of time.

The bus makes occasional stops; they encounter a space dragon; Kara takes some Red Kryptonite and saves the day; they eventually arrive on a planet with a yellow sun. 

And again, all of this occurs with a kind of...breezy ease that I was not expecting at all.

I assumed that the space dragon fight would make up the final moments of the issue, after having built up the problem to a point where Kara needed to intervene.

But, noooope. The space dragon happens somewhere in the middle, which helps sell the central idea that this is simply Kara’s life. She’s been there, done that. She’s a badass who takes it all in stride.

But! Important to note! Ruthye still marvels at the sight of Kara taking out the space dragon, as well she should, because:

OH MY GOD. THE aRT.

There’s only so many times I can say, ‘it’s phenomenal, it’s gorgeous, it’s stunning’ before sounding like a broken record.

But it is. It truly is. This is the prettiest monthly book on the stands right now.

(Realizing I’ve been spelling Ruthye wrong this entire time, maybe? IDK. Apologies if I have.)

It’s in the final moments of the book that we learn what transpired after Krem shot Kara and Krypto and fled: Kara managed to get Krypto and Ruthye to a healer, and then passed out for a week. 

Ruthye and Kara recovered, buuuuut...

Krypto is still very near death because the arrow was poisoned.

The healer can’t treat him until he has a sample of the poison.

Which Krem has.

(See where this is going?)

So! Kara regains her powers! Ruthye has a super on her side! KRYPTO’S LIFE HANGS IN THE BALANCE!

Gimme. Issue. 3. STAT.

THE CHARACTERS

Very much enjoyed Ruthye in this issue!

There’s a really tricky balancing act you gotta pull off when writing child characters; you don’t want to just write them as tiny adults, but you also don’t want to be obnoxious or cloying in trying to write ‘true-to-age.’

King gives himself a bit of a cheat, by setting her up as a rock farmer from a...what would you call it. An old-fashioned planet? And thus the kind of character who had to ‘grow up fast’ and behaves more maturely than your typical pre-teen might.

BUT! IMPORTANTLY! This is tempered by placing Ruthye in situations where her (understandable) ignorance is challenged/put to the test. Like, yes, she is mature, and well-spoken, and utterly tenacious, but she’s also out of her depth, and still in need of help and guidance.

(Which is how we get to The Best Scene which I’ll get to in just a sec.)

TL;DR - this issue has really sold me on Ruthye as our POV character and I am officially Invested in the relationship between her and Kara.

Speaking of...

It’s KARA-CTERIZATION TIME!

So, okay. There’s some ‘eh’ stuff in this one, but, BUT!

We got the goods again.

And by ‘goods’ I mean this:

Whatever other nitpicks I have (and I do! Have one! Which I’ll get to!) THIS. This right here! This is Supergirl. This is Kara.

And what a beautiful line to introduce this moment:

“And it began--as most things begin when you’re dealing with Supergirl--with a moment of kindness.”

It’s the same gentle concern we saw in the previous issue, where Kara knelt down to address Ruthye eye-to-eye. 

Here, Kara’s facial expression, and the way she takes Ruthye’s hands and shows her what to do...

It’s just. SO SWEET.

Ahhhhh it’s so good. :D

So good! In fact! That the above scene offsets my one complaint, which is that Kara came off as harsh, IMO, when addressing the bus passengers, looking for Red K. 

Other good stuff from this particular portion of the book: we get Kryptonese (maybe? I think?) And a mention of Kara’s mother being strict about certain things, which is in keeping with the 2000s series version of Alura.

Ruthye also asks if Kara ever tried to avenge the death of her family/culture and she says no; Ruthye says that she heard a lifetime of regret in Kara’s response, which I suppose could be read one of two ways:

1.) That she regrets her choice not to avenge them, or 2.) that she regrets not having the option to avenge them, as there was no one person to punch, no single action that could rectify the destruction of the entire planet.

I personally prefer the second reading.

Which I suppose contradicts the recent-ish “Killers of Krypton” arc, but who knows what is and isn’t canon anymore, honestly. XD

As for the rest of the issue! I found myself thinking of a Grant Morrison interview, actually.

Morrison apparently met a Superman cosplayer at a con and that’s when the character clicked for them: “[The superman cosplayer] was so in the character, but what really got me was the way he was sitting. It was this absolutely relaxed pose with one knee up and the arm bent over, and that’s what broke Superman for me. Suddenly I realized that Superman wouldn’t be a poser, he wouldn’t be a Muscle Beach steroid guy; he’d actually be completely relaxed because nothing could hurt him. He could be so open and friendly to everyone because no one can punch him or hurt him. He can’t get a cold, or be damaged by anything you’re carrying or wearing. For me that was the power of that, whether you want to frame it as magical or not, it actually informed the stories I wanted to write. I felt I understood him in a way I hadn’t until that moment.”

That’s always stuck with me, the idea that Clark would be the most at-ease, chill guy you'd ever talk to.

And THAT, I think, is what we’re seeing here with Kara. That at-ease-ness.

But in a way that is distinct from Clark! In the above quote, it’s clear that Morrison thinks it’s Clark’s powers that are the reason he can be so relaxed and at ease.

But Kara is de-powered here. So why is she so chill?

Because Kara is an alien.

Kara’s in her element, here. She’s used to space travel, she knows the ins-and-outs, she’s not shocked by any of the weird stuff they encounter on their journey. 

Love it. LOVE. IT.

I am SO GLAD that King decided to go with Kara being the wizened mentor, as opposed to the naïve kid learning to be tough. It’s a much more interesting angle, IMO.

Also NO MENTION OF RIVALRY BETWEEN KARA AND CLARK. WOO. LET’S KEEP THIS ROLLIN’.

Alright, last, but certainly not least:

THE GOOD BOY! KRYPTO!

When I tell you I stress-read this entire comic first thing in the morning...XD

And I am STILL stressed. And a little sad that Krypto doesn’t get to go on another space adventure but! This is MIGHTY PREFERABLE to what I *thought* was going to happen, which is that Krypto would die from his injuries, and Kara would likewise be out for revenge. 

Fortunately, that is not the case! 

So like, the stakes?!?! Suddenly sky high. Find that dirtbag Krem and GET THAT POISON BACK TO THE HEALER!!

ART and MISC. STUFF THAT I LOVE

I generally don’t like to post entire pages of a comic, or panels without context, but the...reach? of this blog is extremely limited so. I think we’ll be okay. XD

So, alright! Some moments that I particularly enjoyed!

One of the panels that Mat Lopes shared early on! 

I want this lettered version on a mug.

(Also she looks very ’Grace Kelly-ish’ here.)

Love Kara’s facial expression and her line about space travel being more fun when you can fly.

From the same portion of the book--such a neat detail that Kara keeps her cash in her sleeve!

Another set of panels that I think Tom King shared a few months back.

Love Kara’s little smirk, and the, “I’m wearing a big yellow S on my chest, and a very fashionable red skirt.”

It IS fashionable. WE SUPPORT THE SKIRT, IN THIS HOUSE.

Also the slrrrrrrp. XD

It’s good.

Okay, 1.) VERY COOL SCI-FI DESIGN and 2.) that line is great. “Can you feel it, Ruthye? We’re getting closer. The stars are changing.”

Mmmm, them good cosmic Kara vibes.

Kara’s attitude about the Red K here is fun, like, ‘WELP, sometimes you turn into a monster, sometimes you don’t!’ but again, the line is what gets me.

“Did my hair move?”

“I do not believe so.”

XD

Honestly? I could post the whole comic here. Evely’s vision of ‘public transit, but space’ is just so immediately...not ‘real’, necessarily, because there’s such a fantastical element to it all, but it is fully realized. I think I used the phrase ‘lived-in’ and that’s it--this world feels like it has always existed; every grimy nook and cranny, every rando space bus traveler.

And Mat Lopes’ colors!

There are like, five distinct color palettes at work in this issue, and Lopes handles them all masterfully.

I think my favorite is the...I’ll call it ‘ethereal space aquarium’ lighting in the bus as they view the space dragon.

The glow and the shadows and the blues and pinks...

GGGGGGGGAAAHHHHHHHHHH so goooooooood

So, yeah. :D

I am very much enjoying this weird, wild ride with small, precocious Ruthye and wizened, crusty Kara. XD There’s some stuff that I don’t *love* but my goodness, it could be a lot worse!

Let us end on the beautiful title page:

[holylulusworld]

The wolf and the princess – Part 8 - My Freya

Summary: A princess and a wolf meet under difficult circumstances. Can they give each other shelter in a cold world?

A/N: prompt/idea by @gypsyjucar​​​: Ulf Johnsen (Dean Winchester) is the leader of his land with the help of his brother. On a trip to Dean gets captured by the king's guards, the princess, was just walking along the castle when she hears her father and guards talking about a barbarian in the cells and this is where their journey begins...

Pairing: Viking!Dean /Ulfr or Wolf) x Princess!Reader, Viking!Sam (Frode) x Shield-Maiden!Ruby, Castiel, Garth, Ivar (Bobby Singer)

Warnings: angst, innocent reader, longing, language, tension, fluff, bad use of Norse language, gentle Dean/protective Dean, light smut (not the reader), unprotected sex, unintended voyeurism, mentions of sex

The wolf and the princess Masterlist 

Day 8

“Why did you allow them to come with us? One of them tried to sell us to their master. I don’t think it’s a good idea those two knights follow us.” Sam grits his teeth, not liking the way Castiel always stays close to your side.

Dean holds you to his chest, not reacting to Sam’s harsh words. Your Viking, the man who would die for you, urges Sleipnir on to ride deeper into the dark forest to reach the hidden cave.

“Castiel helped to free me, just like the young knight at Ivar’s (Bobby Singer) side, bróðir (brother). I know you see betrayal behind every face, but for now, we have to trust those outsiders.”

“Cas always protected me.” Sleepily glancing up at Dean you play with his braids. “I promise he’ll never betray us.”

“I promise, no I swore to my queen to protect her daughter. My queen only had one thought close to death, to fulfill the promise she gave to your brother. I never participated in a battle against your folk.” 

Castiel’s words are the ones of a farsighted knight, but his jaw ticks as Sam does not seem to like the knight dared to address his words toward the stubborn Viking.

“Only as someone promised a dying woman something doesn’t mean I have to trust him.” Now Castiel’s eyes narrow and he needs to take deep breaths.

“I know that Vikings are proud people, always sticking to traditions and fulfilling a promise they made. Your brother is the best example.” Castiel’s voice goes lower, hiding a threat behind his words.

“What gives you the right to accuse I would break my word? I swore on my dead wife’s grave I’ll protect the princess and make sure the bond my queen wove all those years ago will be fulfilled.”

“Enough of this, Frode (Sam)! Castiel is not wrong. The queen wanted to keep her promise, the knight to my left did the same. Do not judge people the way Y/N’s father does. He told me I am not worth his daughters’ hand, even though I am a king. He judged me as I am a Viking.”

“Bróðir (brother).” Sam’s voice is dangerous low as he stops his horse. “Do you think his words are worth just as much as yours?”

What happened to their parents formed Sam deeply and aroused a hatred deep inside of him that only his elder brother can understand.

“It is Sammy. I know you cannot forgive the people taking our parents away. I suffered too, bróðir (brother), but we cannot judge every outsider. Lord Castiel was true to his words, just like the young man to your right. He came here, risking his life to defend the princess.”

“That is enough banter for tonight. The princess must be tired, sons. We should try to reach the cave and make sure she can rest. I will not allow anyone to throw more insults at Lord Castiel.” Ivar’s (Bobby Singer) words let Sam fall silent.

Your eyes meet Dean’s as he falls silent. You can see the worry in those mysterious green eyes, and you lean your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment.

“I am sorry what happened to your family. My mom always told me that her folk, her family were friendly people traveling the seas to find their fate. I envied her for remembering this life.” Your words let Sam’s eyes soften as he watches his brother press you closer to his body.

“Your mother, do you know where she came from?” Surprised Sam directed his words toward you, you need a moment to answer his question.

His hazel eyes search your face as you look at Dean’s brother for longer than a few moments.

His chestnut locks hang loosely over his shoulders. Two thick braids tame most of it, but you can see it must be soft. Sam’s lips curve into an amused smirk as he can see you eyed him for a moment.

“She never talked about her home. I think…” Voice crack you snuggle close to Dean’s chest again.

“In the end, my mom regretted she ever left her homeland. I know she must’ve missed her folk, the Vikings.”

“How’d you know?” Dean’s deep voice lulls you into safety as you gather your strength to talk about your mother.

“She always brought me to the coast and she stared down the cliff for hours, sometimes long enough to make her hands stiff due to the cold wind. My mother, she loved my father but over the years, he changed.” Dean’s hand presses against the small of your back, just holding you close to his body.

“If you don’t want to talk about your mother, you don’t have to, my love.” Sam’s breath hitches in his throat listening to Dean speak to you softly. He’s used to his brother being gruff, loud and not coy around women.

“Sometimes she sang songs in her mother tongue. Songs about the sea, the strong man, and women. I liked listening to the words I did not understand. She told me about the shield-maiden too.” Ruby nods, falling back with her horse to listen to your words.

“They are strong women, warriors. Deadly and beautiful. Free and wild.” Sam’s words let Ruby’s cheeks heat up as his gaze meets hers.

“My mom told me her sister wanted to become one. She was fourteen when my mom left her homeland. Mother always wondered if Frigga became one of those strong women she admired so much.” 

Sleepily rubbing your eyes, you yearn and Dean chuckles as you look adorable to him.

“We are there, àst (love). Let us rest here and we will ride toward the coast in a few hours before the sun rises.” Dean whispers as he carries you into the cave. “Ivar and I will guard the entrance. Sleep a bit.”

Sam already placed large furs onto the ground to make sure you and the others can sleep. After two days of being on the run, you are more than grateful for a rest.

“Ruby and I will have a look at the surroundings. We will make sure no one gets close to the cave.” Covered in a thick fur the shield-maiden gives you a curt nod before she calls follows Frode (Sam) out of the cave.

“She’s beautiful and strong, just like my mom described the shield-maiden.”

“You are more than beautiful, and stronger than you know. I saw the fire in your eyes at the age of twelve when you threw the stone at the boy calling me a rotten bastard.” Dean gently cups your face before he brushes his lips over yours.

Smiling you slide your fingers through Dean’s thick locks. His dark blonde hair needs washing, you can see the dirt and dust from the cell in his strands but you don’t care. It feels rough under your fingertips and you smile as Dean seems to enjoy your attention.

“You remember.” Humming Dean presses his lips to yours and Castiel looks away, flustered as you wrap your arms around the Viking’s neck, parting your lips for him.

“I remember everything, my love. Now rest and tomorrow, we will reach our ship and I will make you mine, my Freya…”

“That’s a goddess. I remember the name from a story I read. I wanted to finish the book, but father, he forbids me to enter the library.” 

Dean’s hand slides through your hair. It is a mess of twisted curls and a loosening braid but to the Viking, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. 

“Freya is known for her fondness of love, fertility, and beauty.” Giggling you look at Dean as the word fertility leaves his lips. “She’s known for seeking pleasure and thrills, but Freya is so much more.”

“Pleasure…” Gasping you feel Dean’s hands gently stroke your back. You can feel his breath against your neck as his lips press a soft kiss to your skin. “Dean…”

“I…I am sorry, my princess. The wild man lost control for a moment, but you are a goddess, innocent and pure to me. I’ll not touch you before we formed our bond. Now sleep.”

“She was able to use magic too, I remember now…” Whispering the words you press a soft kiss to Dean’s nose. 

“She’s an enchantress…just like you…”

Sleep will not come. The fire is too warm, the knights snore too loud. Your racing mind doesn’ help either.

Your chest warms every time Dean looks at you but you fear Sam and the other Vikings will never accept a half-blood among them.

Turning around you look at Garth. He seems to sleep like a baby and you smile softly as he turns in his sleep.

You grew up with the slender young man in front of you. He always stayed by your side, just like now and you just hope – you will not let Castiel and Garth down with your decision to follow this wild king owning your heart.

As your eyes do not grow heavy you silently get up to stretch your sore body. Dean said something about taking care of the horse twenty minutes ago, so you walk out of the cave to see him in the distance.

He is talking to his horse, whispering something in Sleipnir’s ear. You want to stay and watch Dean gently stroking his horses back, but your bladder has other plans.

Silently sneaking behind a tree next to the cave you hear odd noises coming from behind the cave, so you get your hidden dagger out, whistling at Dean and he is by your side a moment later.

Dean tilts his head, listens closely to hear a strangled noise. “Wait…”

“No. Let me come with you. Maybe Sam or Ruby got hurt. I want to stay by your side, Ulfr (Dean), please.” Taking your hand in his Dean follows the noises, not wanting to let you out of sight.

The noises grow louder, and you feel your mouth run dry as you see Ruby on top of Sam. He lies on her fur, holding her hips in a tight grip as she seems to roll her hips to bring him pleasure.

Her naked body seems to glow in the dim light before sunrise and you can’t take your eyes of this goddess of a woman, taking pleasure from the wild man underneath her.

“I…” Turning around, cheeks heating up you cover your mouth. “Oh—goodness!”

Without a word Dean leads you back toward the cave, guiding you inside as Castiel and Garth walk outside. 

“I am sorry…” Giggling you hide your face in Dean’s chest. “I didn’t know they would do such a thing out here.”

“What she did…uh…is it pleasurable for the man?” Glancing up at Dean you try to not act like a fool. “I mean…do you…do you like it?”

“My love…” Pressing his lips to your temple Dean cannot hide the smirk. “I will show you all the pleasure in the world if you want me to. For tonight, let’s sleep a bit.”

“You didn’t answer my question…” Dean huffs at your boldness. He can see the uncertainty in your eyes, so he nods silently, and you bite your lower lip. “Will you show me this too?”

“All you want, my princess.” Humming you press your face into his chest to not let him see you are beyond nervous. “I’ll be gentle…”

“Ruby seemed to enjoy it too…” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be flustered as you look up at him with innocent eyes. “Mom, she told me a few things about lying with a man. I saw pictures in a book too.”

“My love, I swear you make it hard to keep my wild side under control. I will not be able to deny you anything. You are my queen and I am your loyal servant, my Freya…”

Tags in reblog.

[anamthelaptopninja]

5 lessons I learned while reading the autobiography  of  Malcom X

One of the ways in which I’ve been able to measure my growth is by observing the types of books I now read as compared to what I was reading in my early 20’s. I didn’t realize at first but looking back on what kind of books I’ve been approaching recently made me realize that I’ve started preferring non-fiction where most of my life I’ve spent innumerable hours reading and indulging in fiction. I still enjoy the escapism of fiction books but as the years have gone by; an innate desire to access and absorb more and more knowledge, while being aware of not having enough time has pulled me towards non-fiction literature of all sorts.

One of the most recent books I read was the autobiography of Malcom X. Before reading his autobiography, I didn’t know much about him except that he was an activist who spoke about the injustices of the American system against Afro-Americans, and that he was a Muslim, who was assassinated for what he believed in. I’d heard good things about the book and his life seemed interesting and I wanted to know more about his journey towards Islam.

His book has been enlightening and inspiring. For me, it’s one of the most helpful books I’ve read and if you’ve read it, you know what I mean. You walk through his life with him and you feel and see him and his beliefs change as the book progresses. The Malcom from the beginning till the time of his death went through so many changes and you go through those changes with him. Here are some of the lessons I learned from reading the life of Malcom X.

1.       Never be ashamed of the past and your journey.

The biggest lesson for me was to be grateful of the past because it shapes who we are today as individuals. Malcom X lived life on the streets selling drugs and committing crimes. He didn’t sugar coat these times in his book but looked at it in a practical way. His time on the streets allowed him to find his way towards Islam and to be better acquainted to the psychology of those who lived a troubling or difficult lifestyle which allowed him to reach out to them, and he acknowledges that in the book. As Muslims we all believe in Qadr, the divine Will of God, but to see it play out in someone’s life is a proof and affirmation of what we already know. No matter how hard times get or whatever we’re ashamed of in life, it was meant for us to be where we are today. It’s okay as long as we find our way back to God.

2.       There’s isn’t anything that can benefit us more than self-learning.

I’ve always believed in self-learning. I’ve witnessed people with degrees; ignorant, arrogant and unsympathetic, while I’ve witnessed illiterate people with an abundance of knowledge, wisdom and compassion. Sure, a degree equips you with the tools for a professional life and teaches you many lessons that build character but to learn something for your own selfish reasons, is more beneficial and honest. When Malcom X went to prison, he could barely write, and he struggled to read. In prison, he would copy pages of dictionary to improve his writing and simultaneously increase his vocabulary. He read so much he needed glasses. He is the best example of self-learning building character because today we remember him for his eloquence in the way he spoke.

3.       Allah gifts individuals in different and natural ways.

In the age of social media it’s impossible to not compare your life or skills to those of others, or feel like you’re lagging behind your peers. You watch your friends do incredible things in their fields and while you’re proud of them, you feel like you’re not doing enough yourself or maybe you’re not as gifted as they are. But everyone has an innate quality that only they possess. It’s their gift that comes to them naturally or it might be something they’ve accomplished with hard work and patience.  Living a life that was all about survival, Malcom X didn’t get to complete his education or go to University even though he was a clever and sharp young boy. Despite this, he was gifted with the art of speaking and persuasion. He got to polish this art while he was in prison, where he took part in debates. He researched and read on the topics of discussion, he thought tactfully and how the opposition would attack and he would prepare accordingly. A gift that would help him later in life, again the Qadr of Allah and how He mysteriously works.

4.       It’s okay to admit your mistakes.

I think this is the aspect of our lives that most of us struggle with.  One of the reason why I gained so much respect for Malcom X was because he always admitted his mistakes. He learned from them and talked about them. He modified and changed his opinion on matters publicly on television and in newspaper articles. As a member of The Nation of Islam, he formerly believed that the white man was the devil and he publicly made his opinion known. He was accused of being a reverse racist and preaching hate. On his pilgrimage to Makkah he saw men and women of all colours and nationalities together. He was treated as a Muslim, equal to everyone there. His Hajj experience had a profound effect on him when he saw kindness he experience by those who were white. He came back with a changed mindset and came to the conclusion that “the white man is not inherently evil”.

5.       Stand up for what you believe in.

Malcom X’s character from when he was a young man was a formidable one. He was unrelenting and he believed, truly believed in what he was preaching. Even when he was wrong (which he later admitted) he was informed enough on what he was preaching, that he managed to gather a staggering amount of followers for the Nation of Islam just by publicly speaking about what he thought was the truth. But alongside his confidence was the humbleness to admit his faults when he realized he was wrong. Admitting your mistakes when you’re wrong gives credibility to what you say when you’re speaking about something you’re passionate about. A young woman flew to New York from New England and came to Malcom X asking him what she, as a white woman, could do to help the Afro-American cause, to which he replied “nothing” and she went away crying.  Malcom X regretted telling her that and that he wished he knew her name so he could tell her how she could help. Later on, he also said “Anger can blind human vision” referring to his former beliefs.

 The autobiography of Malcom X or El Hajj Malik El Shabazz has been an enlightening one. He had a purpose in life which he spent most of his life working towards. In his last days, he knew he was going to be killed and he said that he wasn’t afraid to die but just afraid for his family. Hs life teaches countless lessons and I’d recommend every Muslim to read his autobiography as inspiration or just for admiration.

 May Allah have mercy on his soul. 

26th February 2021.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Sleep with or without clothes on? I always sleep with clothes on.

Prefer black or blue pens? Black.

Dress up on Halloween? Nah, not anymore.

Like to travel? Yes. I wish I could more of it. And now with the pandemic who knows when I’ll be doing any traveling. 

Like someone? I don’t have any romantic feelings for anyone currently.

Are you dating the person you like? There’s no such person as I said.

Do they know? Uh, wouldn’t the person I was dating know I was dating them?

Who sleeps with you every night? No one.

Think you’re attractive? No.

Want to get married? No. It’s not something I see ever happening for me.

Are you a good student? I was. I’m done with school now.

Are you currently happy? No.

Have you ever cheated on someone? Been cheated on? Nope and nope.

Birthplace? Somewhere in California. 

Christmas or Halloween? Christmas.

Colored or black-and-white photo? Colored, but black and white photos are beautiful as well. I just like color.

Do long distance relationships work? They certainly can. People do it.

Do you believe in astrology? Nope.

Do you believe in love at first sight? Not at all.

Do you consider yourself the life of the party? Haha, no, definitely not.

Do you drink? Nah, I haven’t drank in 8 years now and have no desire to. Just wasn’t my thing.

Do you think dreams eventually come true? Not always of course, but some do.

Favorite fictional character? I watch a lot of shows and movies and read a lot of books, so I have many favorites.

Go to the movies or rent? I enjoy going to the movies. Some movies I like to experience in theaters for the first time, like the big ones that I’m excited about. Some movies I think look kinda good, but I can wait until they’re available to rent or stream. I miss going to the movies, though. It’s been almost a year now since the last time.

Have you ever moved? Yeah.

Have you ever stolen anything? When I was a kid I thought the candy in the big candy bins at the store were free, ha. Whoops.

How’s the weather right now? It was super windy today. 

Last time you cut your hair? Almost a year ago.

Last person you talked to on the phone? My mom.

Last time you showered? A couple days ago.

Loud or soft music? I like to have the volume at a reasonable level. I don’t need it blasting.

McDonalds or Burger King? I like some stuff from both.

Night or day? Night.

Number of pillows? I only use two, but I have like 11 on my bed lol. I like throw pillows.

Piano or guitar? Piano.

Future job? I don’t know. :/

Current job? I don’t have one.

Current longing? I want Wingstop.

Current disappointment? My mom and brother checked a few places and couldn’t find any of my Starbucks Doubleshot energy drinks, so that sucked. 

Current annoyance? My head hurts.

Last thing you ate? Some shortbread cookies. I was dipping them in Almond Breeze that has a hint of honey in it and the combo was delicious. 

Last thing you bought? Starbucks.

Most recent thing you are looking forward to? New episodes of my some of my shows I watch this week.

What are you hearing right now? I’m watching a vlog.

Plans for the weekend? Nothing out of the ordinary.

What did you do today? Slept until 5, had coffee, checked my social medias, watched TV, had dinner and watched The Servant with my mom and bro, and now here I am doing surveys and watching YouTube videos.

Pick a lyric, any lyric or song? Nah.

Pick a movie quote? Nah.

Do you believe that Walt Disney is really frozen? No.

Did you ever hear that myth? Yeah, I know about it.

When you get older, do you want children? I’m 31 and know that I don’t want children.

If not do you want cats instead? I want dogs instead.

Do you believe it's easy to forgive and forget? Not the forgetting part.

Do you ever wish your parents would disappear? No!

When you feel like running away from it all, who do you call? I don’t call anyone I just cry and do my normal go-to activities to try and distract myself and get through the day.

Do you speak any foreign languages? Not fluently, but I can speak a little Spanish.

Are you in high school? Nooo, I graduated over a decade ago. I’m old.

Elementary? Omg.

College? Nope, I graduated back in 2015.

How many stairs can you climb before you wanna pass out? Well, I can’t take the stairs at all since I’m in a wheelchair.

Have you ever kissed someone with braces? No.

Do you want to? That’s a weird thing to want to do lol. Like, you can not mind or not care if you did, but to be like, “I really want to kiss someone with braces” is weird.

What color is your shower curtain? Blue.

Do you own a wallet? Yeah.

Do you have any money in it? Nope.

Do you think you smell good? I smell my deodorant. 

Do other people agree? Hopefully no one thinks I smell bad.

Do you think painting toenails is stupid? No? I don’t paint my toenails, but I don’t think it’s stupid to do so.

Do you enjoy school? I enjoyed aspects of it.

Why or why not? I’m someone who easily gets overwhelmed, stressed, and burnt out, but I enjoyed learning about the stuff I was interested in and not all the projects were bad.

Have you had sex in the past week? No. Or ever.

Is it awkward when you run into your ex? That never happens. We don’t live in the same city for one, but also I don’t go anywhere, ha.

Are you afraid of falling in love? Yes. I fell in love twice and was rejected and hurt, so not the best experience. But I think I’m more afraid the older I get, too.

Was your last kiss drunk or sober? Sober.

Do you remember who you liked in Year Seven? My best friend at the time, Kyle.

Are there any relationships you wish could have lasted longer? Ty and I never dated, but I feel like something could have happened between us. I feel like it was heading in that direction and if we had more time together... who knows. But things got messed up.

Will you get kissed tonight? Nope.

Have you had to have stitches at all in the last year? No.

How old will you be on your next birthday? 32.

Which is coming next: Christmas or your birthday? My birthday.

Have you ever stayed up all night and then gone to work in the morning? Not work, but school.

Would you pierce your nipples for $100? Nooo.

Have you ever dated someone who had a child? No. That’s not something I want, but that’s also something I worry about the older I get because it’s not uncommon for people my age to have a child, probably more, so finding someone who doesn’t may be hard.

Are you taller than 5’6”? No, I’m like 5′4.

Would you ever consider adoption? I don’t want children, I think I’ve made that pretty clear now.

How do you feel about your life right now? I feel good at all about it.

What’s the last song you listened to? I don’t remember to be honest. I haven’t been listening to music lately.

Have you ever been a clown for Halloween? No.

Is your hair longer than your shoulders? Yeah, it’s past my butt.

What time did you go to bed last night? Not until after 9AM. :/

When did you get up this morning? It was evening time when I got up at 5PM.

When was the last time it rained? A few weeks ago.

Are your fingernails painted at the moment? Nope. I haven’t painted them in years.

Do you ever go hunting/fishing? No. I have no interest in either of those.

When was the last time you went camping? Never. Not something I have any interest in doing either.

Are you currently wearing anything orange? Nope.

Do you know anyone who is a nurse? Yeah.

Are you currently wearing any jewelry? Nope.

Was any of it given to you?

If so, by whom? What are you looking forward to tomorrow? There isn’t anything.

Do you know anyone who plays guitar? Not that I know of.

How many missed calls have you had today? One.

Have you told anyone you loved them today? No.

Are you wearing shoes at the moment? No.

Does it snow where you live? No, sadly.

Do you live within an hour of the ocean? More like 2 1/2 hours.

Do you ever do things even though you know you'll regret it later? Yes. And not do things that I know I’ll regret not doing.

What are you currently sitting/laying on? My chair.

Have you ever dated a friend of one of your siblings? No.

How old is your oldest living grandparent? I think he’s 87.

Do you remember who you were dating in July 2006? No one.

Are you still dating that person? Yes, I’m dating no one. ha.

Who was the last non-relative of the same sex you had a conversation with? My doctor.

Last non-relative of the opposite sex? The nurse at my last appointment.

Do you tend to fall for people who don’t return your feelings? Yep. :/ 

Where do you go to school, if anywhere? I’m done with school. I wouldn’t give you the name anyway.

Do you have a job? No.

Where did you get the shirt you’re wearing? Hot Topic.

Are you left-handed? Nope.

Do you wear contacts? No, I wear glasses.

Who are your godparents? I don’t have any.

What do you think of winter? I love the winter.

Did you have an imaginary friend as a child? No.

Which parent do you look most like? My mom.

Ever been to Alabama? No.

Do you use eBay to buy or sell? I’ve only ever bought stuff on eBay. 

Ever failed a test? Yes.

Do you have any friends who are famous? No.

Is your computer a laptop? It is.

Could you go the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? I’ve gone 8 years and have no desire as of now, so. 

What did you dress up as for Halloween? It’s been a few years since I’ve dressed up for Halloween. I’m over that part of it.

Your most recent ex breaks down and tells you they love you, what do you do? Ha, that wouldn’t happen. 

You and your last ex: who should hate whom? Neither of us should hate the other. Nothing happened to warrant those kind of feelings. 

When was the last time you stayed at a hotel? Almost a year ago during my Disneyland vacation.

Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race? Yes.

Is your self esteem high or low? My self-esteem is shit. When was the last time you showered? A couple days ago.

Is music a daily part of your life? No. Especially not lately. 

Yellow nail polish: yes or no? Sure.

Have you ever received a hickey from the last person you kissed? No.

What are you doing right now? This and watching a YouTube video.

What time did you wake up this morning? I didn’t get up until 5PM.

When was the last time you cried really hard? About a week ago.

Think of your last kiss, was it good? Yeah.

Have you held hands with somebody in the past three days? My doggo. (:

Have you ever held hands with the same sex? Yeah, my mom.

If the year consisted of only one season, which would you choose? Fall or winter.

What’s bothering you right now? My head hurts.

What were you doing at eleven last night? I was coloring and watching Sister, Sister. Lol, sounds like I traveled back to my childhood.

What was the last thing you drank? Water.

Are you wearing anything you borrowed from someone? No. All the clothes I wear are mine.

Have you ever kissed the last person you text messaged? No.

What side of a heart do you draw first? The left, I think.

Is there someone you will never forget? There’s a lot of people I’ll never forget.

Is there someone you don’t ever want to be out of your life? My loved ones, of course.

This time last year, were you single? Yep. I’ve been single for 8 years.

Do you listen to music when you’re down? I don’t turn to music anymore for that, I tend to turn to ASMR.

What is your mom saved as in your phone? “Mama Bear” with a bear and purple heart emojis. 

When’s your birthday? July 28th.

Can a relationship last without honesty? I don’t know what kind of relationship that would be. 

Do you curse in front of your parents? No. I’m a grown adult and still feel weird about it lol. And it’s not like my parents don’t cuss. My mom loves her f-bombs, ha. I’m just weird.

Are you short? Yes.

Did you have any unread text messages this morning when you woke up? No.

Which shoe do you put on first? I think my left. 

Do you wish things were better? That sure would be nice.

What are your plans for Friday? New episodes of a couple shows I watch come out, so I’ll have those to watch. Otherwise, just the same ol’, same ol.’

Saturday? Nothing out of the ordinary.

Anything going on this week? No.

Do you find it hard to trust others? For me, it’s opening up to people that is hard for me.

Are you a patient person? No.

Do you laugh a lot? I haven’t had a good, real laugh in so long. I chuckle and do the blow air out of nose laugh, ha.

Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Yeah.

What color shirt are you wearing? Black.

What color are your pants/shorts? I’m wearing blue leggings.

Plan on getting married? No.

Do you believe that love lasts forever? Not always, but it definitely can.

Do you believe everyone needs a second chance? Not everyone, but generally. I give out many chances.

Do you want your tongue pierced? No.

Do you always answer your phone? When it’s my parents or brother.

What woke you up this morning? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, but most likely it’ll be my alarm.

What were you doing at 8:00 this morning? It’s only 12:33AM, but I hope to be asleep at 8.

Do you say "sexy" a lot? I like never say that.

Ever made out in a pool? No.

Do you like to have long hair or short hair? Long. I just wish I had the energy and motivation to style it and take better care of it. My hair is so long and all I do is throw it up in a bun all the time.

Where do you keep your money? In my bank.

What was the weather like today? It’s currently 57f.

Do you want to cut your hair? Just a trim.

Do you like sushi? Blech, no.

Are you over the age of 25? Yes. I’m 31. I typed 32 at first, I’m already aging myself up ugh. I have a few months until then.

Do you have a nickname? Just Steph and Sis.

Do you change your phone background a lot? Not a lot, but every few months I’d say. I really get into during the holidays.

Would you get back with your last ex if you could? No.

Do you still talk to the person you had your first kiss with? Nope. It’s been like 10 years since we’ve talked or seen each other.

How long does it take you to get ready to go out? Ha, my outings only include going to the doctor now, but it doesn’t take me long at all. I put in minimal effort.

Have you ever been strip searched? No.

[timeagainreviews]

The Great Con-Junction

For a place like the world-famous Elstree Studios in London, history is made on the regular. Movies like "Who Framed Roger Rabbit," "Hot Fuzz," and even "Star Wars" have all been captured to celluloid moving at twenty-four frames per second. However, it was a lesser-known, though no less ambitious film that had eager fans lining up around the block on a mild February morning nearly forty years later. The film I speak of is none other than Jim Henson's 1982 cult-classic "The Dark Crystal." Myself and at least 200 other attendees were gathered for the first official Dark Crystal convention, celebrating both the film and the Netflix series. Taking place at the very studio where the movie was filmed, Thames Con's "The Great Con-Junction," was also the biggest reunion of the original cast and crew since the film's release. Once again, history was being made at Elstree Studios.

Upon learning of the convention I was filled with both desire and regret. Desire to go, and regret that I most likely wouldn’t be able. I live in Glasgow which is 6.5 hours away from London by car, and I don’t drive. On top of that, I hadn’t any money saved for such an occasion. But through the generosity of several friends, my mother, and my boyfriend willing to drive me there, the impossible was suddenly very tangible. With only twenty days until the convention, I was one of the lucky few able to attend this momentous affair.

It may seem odd that such a niche convention could draw someone from as far away as Glasgow, and in some cases the US and Australia. But if you’ve ever been to a Star Trek or My Little Pony convention, you may have some idea as to the sort of passion we’re dealing with. For many, Dark Crystal isn’t merely a great creative property, it’s life-changing. As a child, Jim Henson’s work left an indelible mark upon my soul. Projects like "Fraggle Rock," "Storyteller," and "The Flintstones," inspired creativity in me and filled me with the desire to one day work for the Jim Henson Company. Sadly, years of adulting did their best to dull that flame to a mere ember. However, after last year’s premiere of "The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance," that ember grew into a roiling fire.

For the past month, I’ve been a ball of excited energy leading up to the convention. I’ve immersed myself in all things Jim Henson. Whether it be rewatching the Netflix series for the umpteenth time, revisiting Labyrinth, or reading JM Lee’s YA Dark Crystal novels, it’s been all I could do not to crack up. In the final week leading up to the event, I directed this nervous excitement into creating a cosplay as the Crystal of Truth, wrapped in black chains and metal claws. When the day finally arrived and I found myself waiting in line with other excited fans decked out in purple, or cosplaying as Deet or Rian, I knew I was with my people. The air was abuzz with excitement as we were slowly ushered into the building.

The event hall at Elstree was decorated with posters of scenes from the movie along with mood lighting. Part of the ticket cost afforded each attendee a beautiful signed print by Brian Froud. A bar at the entrance was selling official Dark Crystal merch including the ThinkGeek Fizzgig puppet only available in the states. Right away I had blown most of my budget, but my new furry friend would agree I made the right choice! I’d been there not two minutes, and already my arms were full of swag. I took this opportunity to get my Fizzgig and a book signed by both Brian and Wendy Froud, who were very generously autographing people’s items for free.

Usually, conventions leave a bad taste in my mouth as they seem like supremely capitalist ventures. And while there were plenty of things to buy, the Frouds’ generosity set the real tone of the event. Not only were they generous with their autographs, but they were also incredibly generous with their time. It seemed as though every person that talked to them was given an opportunity to gush and share their personal stories. As I told them both how much their work meant to me, they were treating it as though it were the first time they had heard it that day. Brian even took the time to doodle a little Fizzgig and Skeksis for me alongside his whimsical signature. The impression they left me with is that they were both very genuine and down to earth people, and meeting them is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

One of the things Mr Froud shared with me was that in his experience, people’s reaction to the Dark Crystal is usually always something creative. People go off and make fan art, cosplays, puppets, or even their own artistic endeavours. You could see proof of this all around the room that day. I met a brilliant artist from Seattle named Nori (@noriretherford​​), who in exchange for doodles from attendees was giving beautiful prints of her fan art. I drew my best skekTek from memory and have the cutest depiction of Seladon, Tavra, and Brea playing as children to show for it. There were cosplays with humbling levels of detail and even the occasional puppets of people���s original characters. All around you, creativity was swirling, and people were passionately sharing their enthusiasm with one another.

These initial couple of hours were dedicated to meet and greets with the cast, crew, and fellow attendees. Everyone seemed just as interested to listen as they were to share. One attendee remarked to me how she had never before felt more encouraged to speak to strangers than she had at the convention. Even my boyfriend, who is generally shy, was coming out of his shell and joining in the conversations. I was also pleased that the convention was managed well enough that I didn’t spend my entire day waiting in line to meet someone while he was relegated to watching my things. I was actually able to share this experience with him as opposed to relaying it through dreamfasting later. This made meeting the guests less of a thing to check off a list, and more of an experience.

My only real qualm with the structure of the convention was the Skeksis tea which was offered as part of the ticket price. Since I was unaware that the guests would be available all day, I was a bit late to lunch meaning the banquet was completely picked over by the time we had gotten there. No amount of cute creative table displays or impressively crafted Nebrie cake could obscure the fact that we were forced to find our lunch at the McDonalds across the road. Furthermore, I was unaware that the lunch was buffet style, which meant that if someone wanted to be as gluttonous as skekAyuk, it would leave the rest of us hungry. We were not alone in this, as several others were left to look upon the empty tables with dismay. That being said, for a first-time convention, it’s impressive that so little went awry.

For me, the biggest highlight of the day was getting to actually see the Gelfling puppets along with their respective puppeteers. Both Beccy Henderson and Neil Sterenberg had Deet and Rian with them. I’m not ashamed to admit that I hugged Deet. Being able to see the detail of the puppets and feel the various textures employed by the brilliant fabricators at the Jim Henson Creature Workshop was mindblowing. Not to mention that both Beccy and Neil were just as generous with their time as the Frouds. Though I would have to say the most exciting puppet I met that day has to go to Hup, as Victor Yerrid was actually puppeteering him and speaking directly to attendees in Podling. Hearing Hup say my name and talk to me was overwhelmingly exciting! That man is a brilliant puppeteer.

Throughout the day there were also several panels with guests from both the TV show and the movie. It was fascinating to listen to each of them tell their stories. Whether it be anecdotes about Jim Henson or tales about trying to navigate hot costumes under studio lights, it was a treasure trove of information. Listening to these stories was a constant reminder of the sheer amount of history present in the room. Each one of these guests had their own incredible careers, and here they all were, ready to share their fantastic stories. Yet despite this being an intimate gathering of a small group of creatives reuniting after 38+ years, it never once felt like it was all about them. You didn’t feel like an interloper or an evesdropper. We were all part of this wonderful experience together.

It was puppeteer Louise Gold’s remarks to the crowd about this that really put into words what we were all thinking. Through stifled tears, she remarked that she had initially come to see all of her old friends, but had found herself equally enriched by meeting the fans. Seeing all of us come together and sharing our stories was as inspiring to her as it was for us. Hearing her impassioned words moved quite a few of us to tears, myself included. She was easily one of my favourite people I met yesterday, and not just because she was so wonderfully extra. Her words spoke the same truth as Brian Froud's- what has resulted from this fandom is something creative. The Dark Crystal hasn’t simply entertained, it has changed lives.

Of course, like any good convention, it wasn’t just the guests in the spotlight. The cosplay contest allowed for an opportunity for the fans to strut their stuff. Much like the ticket giveaway the organisers had done, they couldn’t decide on just one winner. There was so much goodwill and positivity flowing that honourable mentions were given prizes as well, and with good reason. There were so many incredible costumes that I doubt I could have picked the best of the lot. There were Gelflings, Skeksis, a Hup, and even an urRu! My favourite of the lot was a mother-daughter duo who went as Brea and Kira respectively. But that may just have to do with the fact that I’m a big Brea fan and her costume was incredible!

Were I to think of any one word to explain how I feel about being able to attend this convention it would be grateful. I left feeling rejuvinated. My boyfriend even commented that I was “glowing.” I wish everyone in the fandom could have the same experience. I’ve seen so many passionate fans online in the last day wishing they could have gone, and I very easily could have been one of them. It’s proof to me that this fandom has more to it than just a few people toiling away in their basements. There is a real desire for these types of events. It’s not hard to imagine people declaring their Gelfling clan like Harry Potter fans might declare themselves Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. (I’m totally a Vapran.) If you look online, you can see people’s OCs of both Gelfling and Skeksis. Even I’ve considered putting together my own Gelfling Gathering here in Glasgow. I’m hopeful that this is a sign of things to come, and that we won’t have to wait a thousand trine for the next Great Con-Junction.

[szopenhauer]

Think of a movie and now give me that movie title: random Elvira: Mistress of the Dark 

Quote a line from that movie:

Name a song: random MARUV & Boosin — I Want You 

What’s a line from that song? Baby turn me, turn me on All night long What���s the last word spelled backwords of that line? GNOL XD Whats the relationship between you and the last person you texted? my fiancee What would your name be if you replaced T’s with S’s & A’s with E’s? Zuzenne Would you ever legally change you name to that? nah Your boyfriend/girlfriend say they can’t hang out & it’s been two weeks. You? ok How often do you think about death? all the time Where were you when you had your first sleepover? Your house or a friends’? friend’s - P.W.

Are you hungry?: thirsty

What did you buy last time you went to the store?: food? bread not food? trinkets - for example - two books and a tiny stuffed dog

Do you think stained glass windows are pretty?: I don’t know tbh

Are you a chocoholic?: not at all

Have you ever been carded when buying something? : not even when I was buying cigarettes

Do you have a favorite highlighter color?: yellow

Do you have a flashlight?: I do

Do you like watermelon?: nah

Has anyone ever walked in on you while you were on the toilet?: obvi, many times but usually just family members

Do you like a lot of ice in your drinks?: noooo

Have you ever painted a room?: bathroom Have you ever petted a donkey? from what I remember

Out of all 24 hours, which one is your favourite? hmm... Have you ever been in a lighthouse? nope

What time are you planning on going to bed tonight? no idea Have you ever been bit by an animal? yeah Did it rain today? kinda What was the name of the last dog you pet? it was my dog - Łasuch Do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants? sure Are you constantly judging people? could say so Have you ever had anything stolen from you? sorta Which would you rather, a snowy day, sunny day, rainy day or cloudy day?: cloudy or sunny maybe rainy but definitely not snowy How long have you ever spent away from home? month? Has your luggage ever been lost at the airport? Did you get it back? - About how many times during the night do you wake up from your sleep? few Are there any air fresheners in your house? What kinds? no What scent of candle do you burn the most? we don’t For what reason did you last cry? ugh... What kind of surveys do you wish there were more of? deep

Last time you were attacked by an animal? this summer? Are you paranoid all the time or just during the night? more often during the day actually  Have you ever dated someone without knowing their name? last name, not first, I was a stupid kid and was dating a guy online once and several boys at camp just to show off somebody likes me that way even tho I wasn’t really interested nor knew anything about those matters

If you go to an all-you-can-eat buffet, how much do you really eat? a tiny bit If you need to ask a question in class do you raise your hand? of course How many times have you been engaged (if any at all)? once, currently Do you have to see something to really believe it? jak niewierny Tomasz - często Have you ever gotten so dehydrated that you passed out? I’m surprised that I didn’t :x If your friend was being cheated on, would you tell them? absolutely Do you always assume the worst? that me indeed Are you sick and tired of life? sadly Have you ever been busted for under age drinking? I wasn’t drinking underage, I still don’t drink  Do you have a picture of you and your lover kissing? 1 and a tik tok Have you witnessed a fight at school? bunch

What is your favorite time of day to run? when I’m late for the bus lmfao

When was the last time you talked to your mom? recently Do your parents crush your dreams? sometimes Did you sleep in today? I didn’t Do you hate sleeping in? I love sleeping in  How late do you consider too late to sleep in? noon, 11am is already late  How long have you had a smartphone? less than 5 years Do you keep lists of names that you like? even tho I don’t want kids :P Have you ever butt-dialed someone? it happened

First letter of the names of everyone you have kissed, like *that*; M.

Do you like going to school sports games? eww, boring Have you ever worn your boyfriend’s clothes? guy from camp gave me his cap for a day Have you ever stolen your sibling’s clothes? I had to wear them when she was growing up, gross Have you ever loved someone and HATED it? later? Do you like Starbucks or would you rather just have water or something? just water lol Have you ever walked into a door before? po maturze zapomniałam, że woźny zamknął drzwi, które się same otwierały i walnęłam w nie, raz przytrzepałam sie w futrynę bo za szybko skręciłam w nocy do pokoju, mama uderzyła mnie drzwiami jak byłam mała i stałam za blisko wejścia dzwoniąc do domu więc spadłam ze schodów, a ojciec stuknął mnie tymi dworcowymi przy wiadukcie i wylałam na siebie sok - to chyba wszystkie przypadki Do you know anyone who’s like, psycho-religious? fanatic? my uncle is one of those Have you ever been stuck on a ski lift? luckily never been there to begin with Do you know who Nancy Sinatra is? ain’t this the gal who sings “those boots were made for walking” or smth like that? Have you ever bought anything from an airport? I wasn’t there so... If I asked you who you were gonna marry a year ago, you would say; omg Do you snore, talk, sleepwalk, or drool? drool at times, sorry also roll/kick around and fart ^^” When you woke up this morning, what was your first thought? I was wondering why Nat fronted If you could start completely over knowing what you do now, would you? possibly

If you drink coffee, do you have a favorite flavor & brand? If so, what? not applicable Have you ever personally known a pair of Conjoined twins? woah What is your first thought when you see people kissing in public? "get a room” Would you ever consider being a professional stunt-person? I have no abilities/skills/health etc for that kind of job and it’s really sad actors get prizes for stunt-ppl’s work

How about a Mailman? my father was and that ruined his body so I doubt it (Besides Hello kitty) Do you have a favorite Sanrio character? If so, Who? Hello Kitty is evil Do you flinch when strangers touch you? don’t touch me! Can you remember the first time you went to a movie theater? I believe Is there something in particular you like to look at photos of? What is it? I have strange interests... Do you actually like the taste of Diet Soda? didn’t try and don’t plan to What brand of toliet paper do you normally use? I don’t give a shit ;) Do the Charmin bears make you feel uncomfortable? xD fact that they’re red makes me uneasy On average, how many cans of soda would you say you drink daily? zero Did/do you ever stick your chewed -up gum under tables? I spat it on grass when I was younger and had stuck it in my hair years before as well but every other gum I trashed properly Can you remember the last thing you watched on the news that upset you? that’s why I avoid news How do you feel about red lipstick, is it whorish? it’s my fav but I no longer use makeup What is your definition of feminism? fighting for equal rights between women and men like pay in workplaces Are you comfortable in shorts? am not So, have you watched that Bob’s Burgers show? Do you like it? fragments 

Do you ever get the feeling you dont belong? always Do you believe actions speak louder than words? good actors will use both ways to lie

If your friend tried to commit suicide infront of you how would you react? how, why, who, when etc. Ever had a rumour spread about you? plenty Have you ever tried to impress someone before? majority of my life and I hate myself for that If someone jumped on your back what would you do? die? If you had a child and they turned out just like you would you be happy? poor kid... If you could choose the gender of your child what gender would you choose? not that I want kids but girl

Name three people you want to meet in Heaven. from those who died or are alive rn?

What could be the theme song of your life? I was taking a quiz today and they gave me Kero Kero Bonito - I'd Rather Sleep

Do you have any embarrassing health issues? :( Who do you wish you could talk to? grandma and/or brother Do you lose or misplace things a lot? very rarely lose, misplace more often but still usually same item like my scissors What was the name of the street you grew up on (if you don’t live there now) I live here! Does it still feel like summer where you live? it’s too cold for that Do you have a Paypal account? I wish Have you ever had a brand or company reach out to you on Instagram? polyvore What is the last thing you purchased from Etsy? I have no bank account to be able to buy stuff there Do you sell on Etsy? I’d like to someday Do you have a favorite aunt, and if so, who is it? aunt Alice Who is your favorite cousin? no one Have you bought next year’s calendar yet? yup What year did/will you turn 30? 2022 What’s a food that you like, but it makes you feel sick? no comment Do you like the name Addison? sounds like a shoe Is there anything that you regret getting rid of? ... Have you ever stood up to a bully? couple of times Do you own striped tights? nude and transparent Have you ever made your own Halloween costume out of clothes from ur closet? yep When was the last time you received a hug? this day Do you have anyone who hugs you regularly? dad? Would you rather have the bottom bunk or top bunk? bottom Window seat or aisle seat? window, aisle if in church  Have you ever thrown up on an airplane? that’s one of the reasons I won’t fly Have you ever seen anyone else throw up on an airplane? that’s another... Have you ever gotten sick in the car? almost Do you still wear clothes from the children’s section? whoops you got me What color is your watch? I need to buy watch for Nat... What color was the last pair of flip-flops you wore? last time I was wearing flip flops was before middle school and they were pink I suppose Were you born in your favorite season? in the worst! Have you eaten oatmeal lately? regularly... Do you enjoy editing photos? if not a snapchat filter selfie then I prefer them “natural” What is your favorite app on your phone? Choices forever! lately I begun playing The arcana and it’s pretty good, Lisa downloaded Addams family mystery mansion or smth but it’s not that cool and I used to play the detective story which was awesome <3  Do you answer your phone every time it rings? hell no Do you like to decoupage things? scrapbooks/collages are way better How many tabs are open on your browser right now? 9 with this one but I forgot to close the background music 

How many times have you had sex within the past two years? Guesstimate? personal How many times in a month do you go to the movies? How much do you spend? not at all

When was the last time you heard thunder? Where were you at anyway? this month? home When was the last time you were in trouble with your parents? If so. it’s complicated Do you know anyone who claims to have the ability to see the future? I have dreams that come true and my parents do, also my gf When you go to the movies, do you actually watch the movies or not? ... what else would I do in the cinema? oh, you mean kiss and such? waste of money Do you love or loathe the Eurovision? I don’t mind it Have you ever wielded a sword? wanna try :D If you were famous would you want a statue or a building names after you? what for Can you erect a tent? hope I didn’t forgot How tall is the tallest person you know? didn’t ask Have you ever ridden a camel? might try What’s your opinion on rats? cute