#the back of the book has water damage from my tears

[rookamell]

If I ever meet Robin Hobb I’m fighting her for the emotional pain she inflicted on me in those last fifty pages of Assassin’s Fate

[tinydefector]

Marine Centre 7 - Merformers AU

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mention of dead animals, eating dead animals, attempting to court/filrt.

Masterlist

Perv

Next

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Big blue had been avoiding them the best he could while at the centre, staying at the bottom of the cove or out in the deep water of the sea so that he wasn't near them. 

 But all the other oceanides began to get very friendly towards them, following them up and down the sea line and around the walkways around the marine centre.  

Angelfish trills, surfacing from the water cooing as he tries to get their attention. "Hi Angelfish, I'll talk later. I'm trying to find Big blue” they hum with a smile as they continue walking towards the cave.    

Cherry shoulder-checks him aside. Calling out himself He waggles his fins as he pushes himself up onto the sand a little, using his hands to drag himself.  “Cherry! No,no you just got out of quarantine, don't you damage your scales again!” They nearly shout while trying to shoo him back into the water. 

As Rodimus makes another persuasive overture, the three Oceanides continue calling and thrilling as if trying to get their attention but they were set on a mission they wanted to find Big blue. They had books that they wanted to read to him, to help him be able to speak a little more or just be able to ask more questions from the food they eat to oceanide ways. 

“What has gotten into you three my God, you're acting like pups” They chuckle only to hear Bee call out. They would know that call anywhere. “Bubba!” The little yellow pup calls out. “Yes hello baby!” They call back. 

 The little pup zooms through the water, spitting out a mangled blend of little melodies and little words. "No! Cuddle, cuddle!" He huffs puffing up as he chases them. “You can cuddles in a little sweetheart.”  

Firefin seems just as persistent to stop them from going to the cave. Beaching himself in their part, blocking them. They let out a sigh realising they weren't going to escape the three adults and pup. “Fine, fine guess I'll sit here then” they huff out and sit down in the sand. 

Bumblebee is quickest to zoom over, trilling excitedly as he uses the waves to wash himself up closer to them as he wiggles and drags himself into their lap. They grab out one of the books of fish holding it out for Babybee to see. The other three almost crowd around to inspect what they have. 

“Fish, Fish” the pup shouts. “Yes bubba, fish, gonna point out them and you nod if you eat them” they coo while pointing to the fish, making a motion to their mouth, doing a head nod and shake to try and make sure the oceanides understood what they were asking.   

 

Cherry jabs at a pufferfish photo, then to Angelfish who shoves him away with a playful hiss. Bumblebee trills happily from his perch, little hands pointing at fish as he peers at them. “Do you like Flathead?” They hum only for the little one to nod vigorously. The other three seem to be playfully fighting between each other over an answer. 

Firefin rumbles thoughtfully. He nods slowly at them, he then points to the lionfish and makes a low snarl at it. “yea i know you don't like the Lionfish, the Sharks seem To once they are dead.” They continue pointing to another one, this time an Eastern Wirrah. “What about this one?” 

At the next indicated fish, Angelfish perks up. Cherry nods eagerly. As they continue to go through the book making doen fish that they liked and didn't, Bumblebee babbles as he points at other fish, crustaceans and shellfish excitedly. 

But it's their heads snapping to the side as Shimmer beaches himself with a kill. “Holy shit, holy shit!” They shout pulling Babybee closer as they watch Shimmer rip into the seal carcass. His head snaps towards them as blood runs down his mouth and chin before he goes back to eating. Shimmer lazily tearing into a seal carcass on the sand. The pup coos excitedly at the gory sight, wiggling out of their arms and quickly splashing his way over.  

__________________________

"Hello gorgeous!" Rodimus trills, only for Bluestreak to surf closer to them. "Come swimming with us again please?" He calls out only for Sideswipe to shoulder-check him aside. " Ignore this fin flicker, you can do better. Name's Sides - I'll show you a way better time than any landwalker." He waggles his frills eagerly. 

As Rodimus makes another persuasive overture, Sideswipe cuts in flamboyantly. "Forget these two- I'm the best you'll find in these seas, sweet thing!, come on you have see me at my lowest" 

Rodimus elbows him aside. "The they're not interested in guppy talk."  

Their displays only grow more elaborate as the softone strides unresponsive past, oblivious clicks drowned out by youthful cry of Bumblebee. The little pup zooms over spitting out a mangled blend of songspeak and soft word phrases. 

But Rodimus presses ever closer, blocking their path. “Come on, you had no issues talking with me after Optimus took off” he nearly whines. The softskins let out a sigh realising they weren't going to escape the three adults and pup. So they sit down in the sand. Close to the water so that Bumblebee could move closer. 

The group lets out a noise of success. “finally we can actually spend some time with you!” Sideswipe laughs as he moves closer, watching curiously as they pull out strange looking boxes. But as they open it the oceanides see the images of fish. 

Bumblebee, trilling excitedly as bright illustrations capture his fleeting focus. Sideswipe and Bluestreak crowd close as well, "Ooh, look - it's you, Blue!" Sideswipe jabs, pressing his claw at a  picture of a pufferfish. Bluestreak shoves him away with a snort. "Frag off, your ugly mug is Not!." 

They let Bumblebee curl up in their lap while pointing to a fish. And making a 'to eat' motion before waving their hand in the direction of the three like a question. Before doing a head nod or shake. Sideswipe catches on first, snapping his dentas. "Eat it? Frag yeah we do, looks tasty!" 

Bluestreak elbows him. "Spongebrain, they're asking if WE eat it, not if YOU would." He turns a questioning gaze on the humans. "yes we hunt those" he nods along as they point to different ones. At the next indicated fish, Bluestreak perks up. "Oh, those? Fat suckers are a real treat, their meat just falls off the bone. We'll chase those gutbusters all over the reef given a chance." Sideswipe rumbles while admiring the different fishes.

Sideswipe nods eagerly. Rodimus nods too, he then points to the lionfish and makes a low snarl at it. “Those firefish are nasty, we don't eat them, they make us very sick” he informs only for the softone to make a noise in understanding. 

He points to others, fielding answers. "Groupers are yummy. Lobsters if we're lucky, fast buggers though. Any big fish, deep fish.  barracuda, Mahi Mahi, sunfish, even marlin if it's a big feeding party."

As the softone continues pointing to others as the boys nod or shake their heads over which ones they eat. Bumblebee babbles as he points at other fish excitedly, “yummy, yummy!” He coos which earns a laugh from the others. “ yea pup they are yummy”

The smell of blood has their attention as Sunstreaker drifts onto the sand with a seal that he is ripping into and eating. The metallic scent draws Sideswipe's attention downbeach. "Hey, looks like Streaker's found himself a feast." The others follow his gaze to see Sunstreaker lazily tearing into a seal carcass on the sand. 

Bluestreak clicks his dentas, eyeing the dripping prey. "Not a bad catch, solo this time?"  Rodimus' fins flick approvingly. Sunstreaker licks a lingering gaze to their softone. Bluestreak snaps his dentas jealously. "Showoff, look he's got them interested now!"

"Always got to one-up us, eh Streaker?" Sideswipe whines. "Can't you let the rest of us wow someone for once?" Sunstreaker just huffs, blood dripping from his chin. "Not my fault if you clownfish can't land a catch to save your sorry shells. At least I get results." He flicks gold and silver fins in a taunting display.

Bumblebee swimming over to Sunstreaker. Cooing softly as if to ask if he could try the seal with him. The little pup is very polite as uses his big wide eyes up at him, Sunstreaker had a soft spot for the pup reminding him of his own pup sunstorm bumblebee's plea proves effective, as his big puppy eyes always did. With a smug quirk of his lip, Sunstreaker tears off a choice strip of seal meat for the eager little pup. 

"Here you go, squirt. Maybe you'll finally fill out that scrawny frame with a real meal." He ignores the others' jealousy as Bumblebee trills his thanks around the treat. As he lets the pup have his fill of the seal while he eats. 

Bluestreak scoffs. "Look at that, he's stolen the pup's affections too..." Sideswipe tries to stop the soft one from following Bumblebee down to the seal carcass. "Don't pay them any mind, sweetspark. I'll hunt something for you." He calls out as a promise. 

Bumblebee eagerly devours his seal chunk with Sunstreaker's watchful gaze. When the pups caretaker edges closer, Sideswipe whines pathetically. "Don't do it, you'll only encourage his displays! Gorgeous, come back - I'll prove myself a far truer catch." 

But their noisemaking falls on deaf ears as their human carefully approaches the feeding pair, wary yet curious. Sunstreaker lets them near without hissing, merely flashing bright patterned frills at them in invitation. 

A challenging smirk curls his lip components. "See something you like, landwalker? I'm always up for another hunt if it means claiming a worthy prize." The others can only whine and fawn, outmatched by the golden mech's sheer audacity. 

"What are you doing?" Drift asked, popping his head up to watch the younger Oceanides. Bluestreak huffs. "We're trying to win favour, prove ourselves to the landwalker. But Sunstreaker keeps showing off as usual." 

Sideswipe nods fiercely. "He only does it to make us look bad. If he'd frag off maybe one of us could get a real connection going."

Rodimus vents softly in amusement. "Optimus already tried a fin show, but I doubt Sunstreaker will get them that easily." Sideswipe titters. "Can you blame him? The way they doted on Bee, of course he got all showy!" 

Drift shakes his head in amusement before taking off again. 

"No way, Optimus!," Bluestreak insists. "I mean look, they're still not even reacting to us" 

Sideswipe nods eagerly. "Bet his display freaked them right out, Wonder how far south he hauled his sorry tailfin..."

“I'm telling you Blue, He got so worked up while Ratchet and I were at the caves, fins and frills All flared out as he made a little call to them. And beforehand I was asking him if they were his mates. He said something to them in their words and they got very shy” Rodimus says to him.

"How would you even mate one?" Sunstreaker shoots back at them.

Bluestreak hums curiously. "I don't suppose landwalkers mount the same as we do? No tail, slit or pelvic fins in sight." 

"Frag if I know." Rodimus says defensively. 

Sunstreaker fans his fins and frills at them again, a soft little rumble leaves him as he puts on the show, the softskin looks at him and smiles as they talk and praise Sunstreaker in the language he can't understand, but they do make a whistle noise at him. He smirks triumphantly as the landwalker's praise. Bluestreak scoffs jealousy. "Fragger thinks he owns the surf with this showboating" 

A deep rumble echoes off the waves and it has Bumblebee looking up and calling out to his Sire. Even the softones attention flicks to the large Oceanide as he hangs back in the deeper water. Optimus was still keeping his distance from them after his flare up. 

Sunstreaker falters his display. "Well frag me, Papa Prime's making his presence known out there..." Bumblebee trills excitedly at his sire. “Papa, Papa!” he calls out to him.

____________________

Photos of what the Oceanides look like for those who haven't seen Megatron is the next one I'll be working on.

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[bower-quinn]

My sweet summerchild

"You and Eddie have been best friends for years, and nothing and no one can tear you apart. But somehow, something has changed. [cw: vomiting] [fluffy, feelings, friends to lovers]"

Chapter 1: The Secret

It’s a Friday like any other in rainy Hawkins. The day drags on like chewing gum, but Eddie Munson knows that the wait will be worth it. Every Friday afternoon, when the bell rings for the last period, Eddie, Steve, Dustin, Robin, and you gather in the old, dusty clubroom of the school, which serves as the headquarters for the Hellfire Club. Here, amid the smell of old books and the flickering light of candles, you dive into the world of Dungeons & Dragons, where heroes and monsters collide and imagination knows no bounds. The latest campaign isn’t going as smoothly as Eddie would like, since Steve, the newcomer to the group, has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to do.

„So, can I decapitate the ogre with my sword now?” he asks, and almost everyone groans in annoyance. Except for you, you just laugh softly and respond with angelic patience, „I have the sword, Steve; you have a broad axe.”

„So I decapitate him with my broad axe!”

More groans.

„Harrington,” Eddie leans forward and stares intensely at his best friend, „if you say ‘decapitate’ one more time, I’ll kick you out of the campaign.”

Steve looks him straight in the eye.

„Decapitate.”

„This kid is driving me crazy,” Eddie sighs and sinks back into his chair.

„Just roll for how much damage your initial attack does!” you suggest, pointing to Steve’s dice.

„My sweet summerchild has much more patience with you than is warranted,” Eddie grumbles. The way he says your nickname makes everything inside you melt.

Steve picks up a die, rolls it, and stares at it for a long time.

„And? Did you roll a one?” Dustin asks, clenching his teeth.

„A twenty!” Steve looks around the table, „is that good?”

„That can’t be true!” Eddie jumps up, stands behind Steve, and stares at the dice.

„The bastard actually rolled a dirty twenty!”

„Who’s the bastard here?” Steve mumbles, but Eddie just chuckles and winks at you.

Those stupid butterflies that have been fluttering around lately are flapping around in a panic. You don’t know exactly when it happened, but recently you’ve felt your feelings for Eddie change. You’ve been friends for what feels like centuries. Best friends, even. Just for that reason, you would never dare to bring up these feelings. Sure, you and Eddie talk about everything—except the fact that you suddenly find his lips attractive. That would ruin everything.

„Well,” Eddie says loudly, pulling you out of your thoughts, „Sir Harrington raises his broad axe with a shout, hurls it at the ogre, AND,” he makes a dramatic pause, „hits it right between the eyes.”

You all cheer, and Steve looks prouder than he wants to admit.

„Robin,” Eddie points to her, „what are you doing?”

„My sorceress casts Fireball!” she rolls, „a six.”

„Although a lot of flames go astray,” Eddie says, „you still burn the ogre pretty well. He dies before he hits the ground.”

„FINALLY!” Dustin roars.

„Kamala approaches the ogre,” you say softly, and Dustin falls silent, „she pulls out a bottle of holy water and anoints the ogre’s head. She says a small prayer for his soul and then returns Sir Harrington his sword.”

„Heaven,” Dustin says, „it’s an ogre!”

„Every creature deserves an anointing!” you say, and the sparkle in your eyes makes Eddie smile. What you don’t know is that he had to keep himself from staring at you throughout the session. How the candlelight reflects in your hair, how you laugh at his jokes, how you patiently explain everything to Steve. All of it nearly drives him to despair. He yearns so strongly for you. For your physical and emotional closeness. He’s never wanted anything more. But for the sake of your friendship, he does nothing in that direction. Everything remains in his imagination.

„I think,” he says, looking away from you, „that’s enough for today.”

„But it’s only been two hours!” Dustin sighs in disappointment.

„Already two hours!” Robin exclaims in surprise, „Heaven, no wonder it smells like farts in here.”

„That was Dustin,” Steve says, and Eddie chuckles as Dustin makes a horrified face.

You look at your watch and realize Eddie is right.

„Shit, I have to go!,” you say, grabbing your bag, „I promised to be home on time. Otherwise, I’ll get a broad axe to the forehead.”

Eddie stands up, spreads his arms, waiting for a goodbye hug, but you just wave quickly and disappear. Eddie stands there with his arms raised like an idiot.

„She’s gone,” Dustin says, and Eddie’s head snaps toward him.

„Oh, shut up, dumbass.”

„I’m just saying,” he shrugs, „you can put your arms down.”

„Seriously,” Steve says quietly as he gathers the figures, „you’re acting like a little kid.”

„Do you have something to say, Harrington?” Steve asks.

He just shakes his head. Robin looks at him and rolls her eyes.

„I thought you were going to talk to him!”

„Not now,” Steve hisses back.

„About what?”

Eddie crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares at his friends.

„About,” Steve says, „how you’ve been in love with [y/n] for months.”

Eddie bursts out laughing, but his friends can tell it’s a fake laugh.

„Me? In love? Nonsense.”

„Seriously?” Dustin looks at Steve, „do you mean that?”

„Yes?” Steve looks at him confused, „I thought even you, dimwit, would have figured that out by now!”

„No?”

„Hello!” Eddie waves his hands to get their attention again, „She’s my best friend! Nothing more! I don’t know where you guys get the audacity—”

Steve, Robin, and Dustin look at Eddie but say nothing.

„Okay, fine,” his feigned indignation collapses, „I’ll admit it. How long have you known?”

„Six months,” Robin says.

„Five months,” Steve says.

„I told him,” Robin says, and Steve nods.

„Eh, and why didn’t you tell me?” Dustin asks Robin.

„Because,” Steve answers instead, „you’re just an immature kid.”

„Let me remind you,” Dustin glares at both of them, „that unlike you two, I have a girlfriend.”

Robin looks at Steve.

„There’s something to that.”

„I really hate to interrupt your coffee clatch,” Eddie says in a deep voice, „but this isn’t about you.”

„When is it ever,” Steve mutters.

„You have to swear to me,” Eddie points his finger at each of his friends, „that you won’t say a word about this. Swear it, or I’ll haunt you in your dreams!”

„What a terrible thought,” Robin murmurs, „but I and the two fart-heads here swear it!”

Eddie nods curtly and tries to hide his red face behind his curls. Apparently, he isn’t as mysterious as he always thought he was.

Chapter 2: A New Hope

You notice that Eddie is unusually nervous in the following days. Whenever you touch him, he flinches and laughs oddly. Even your hugs seem to be avoided, kept to a minimum. Even these small touches on your arm have been turned off.

Maybe, you think in fear, he’s realized that you have feelings for him. It’s uncomfortable for him, so he’s keeping his distance. That’s the only explanation that makes sense to you. Shit, you think, when did he figure it out?

It’s infinitely embarrassing for you because the tiny hope that he might feel the same has now died. Dead, buried, and decayed.

You try to act normally around him, not showing any signs of your feelings. But every smile, every word, even when he just says your name, makes something inside you wither.

Steve, Robin, and now Dustin watch Eddie as he helplessly tries to flirt with you without actually flirting with you. More than once, Robin has to kick Steve hard in the shin to keep him quiet. But you don’t notice. You’re too absorbed in your own confusing feelings and thoughts.

When Eddie laughs a little too loudly at one of your jokes and then accidentally spills his peas, Dustin whispers to Steve, „Does she really not notice?”

Steve shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

„You didn’t notice either.”

„I just thought Eddie was acting weird.”

„Hey, you idiots,” Robin hisses angrily, „can you talk any louder?”

„Someone has to tell her!”

„Over my dead body!”

Eddie, you, and Robin look at Steve, who is staring at Dustin. Apparently, he hasn’t noticed that he’s speaking loudly.

„Is there a problem?” Eddie asks with a threatening tone, giving the two of them a meaningful look.

„No,” Steve says, still staring at Dustin, „Dustin just realized that his D&D character has the gift of silence.”

„Hm,” Dustin says and looks at his food.

Everything seems strange to you. Your friends constantly whisper and stop immediately when you approach. Your heart grows cold. Do they all know about your crush? Are they all making fun of you behind your back? Sadly, you look down at your food, not noticing how longingly Eddie is looking at you. When Steve sees Eddie’s gaze, he rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, but Robin kicks him painfully in the shin again.

Even days later, Dustin finds it hard to keep Eddie's secret. Although the others don’t believe he’s capable, he has a strong intuition. He senses that something is different about you. That you seem sad, more closed off, and thoughtful. Even though he can’t be sure, he suspects it has something to do with Eddie’s behavior toward you.

The others, especially Eddie, don’t notice it. Eddie is far too busy acting like the biggest idiot on the planet in your presence. The more you pull away, the louder he becomes. What a fool.

It makes Dustin thoughtful, and he wishes he could do something to change the situation but doesn’t know what.

„Ouch,” he says as he bumps into you after school.

„Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately reply, „I didn’t see you!”

„I was lost in thought,” Dustin apologizes.

„So was I,” you respond.

„What were you thinking about?”

A quiet sigh escapes your lips.

„Oh, just complicated stuff. You know, feelings.”

Dustin takes your hand and leads you to a bench in front of the school building.

„I’m pretty sharp,” he says, his grin disarming, „and I know a thing or two about complicated. Wait, you look different than usual.”

You smile slightly, feeling a gentle blush creep onto your cheeks.Top of FormBottom of Form

„You look nice,” he comments.

„Thanks, I hope he likes it too.”

„He?” Dustin’s eyes widen. „You have a date? With whom?”

„With Jason,” you answer.

„Jason,” he repeats tonelessly.

„Jason,” you roll your eyes, „you know, tall, blonde, basketball player.”

„Basketball player,” Dustin repeats again tonelessly.

„Dustin, are you okay?” you ask, noticing how pale he’s become.

„Not okay,” he says. What you don’t know is that he’s already stopped listening to you. In his mind, he sees Eddie’s sad face.

„Should I walk you home?”

Your concerned tone snaps him out of his thoughts.

„No,” he laughs awkwardly, „it’s fine, just a shock that you have a date.”

When you raise your eyebrows in offense, he adds, „A date with Jason, I mean. I didn’t know you were into guys like that.”

„I’m not,” you sigh softly, „but I have to move on, you know?”

Dustin blinks in surprise. „Move on? What do you mean?”

„Well, you know,” you groan in frustration, „when you’re into someone who isn’t into you. You have to move on.”

„So,” Dustin asks hesitantly, „are you into someone else?”

„That’s right, Sherlock,” you grin, but Dustin immediately sees the sadness in your eyes.

„And who is it?”

His inquiry is so sincere and non-intrusive that it makes you laugh.

„That’s private!”

„Come on!” he wiggles his eyebrows, „if it’s Steve—”

„Oh my God,” you almost scream with laughter, „Harrington? Jesus, he takes longer in the bathroom than I do!”

„Then who is it?”

Your laughter dies down and you look at Dustin. Actually, if you’re moving on anyway.

„Okay,” you clear your throat and lower your voice, „it’s Eddie.”

„Eddie,” the toneless repetition again.

„Yes, Eddie. You know him. Dark curls, dark eyes, makes us suffer in DnD.”

„So,” Dustin summarizes, „you’re going out with this dimwit Jason because you’re actually in love with Eddie.”

Hearing it put that way makes you blush.

„Yes. He clearly isn’t interested, and I can’t keep running after him. But,” you look at him seriously, „you have to swear you won’t tell anyone.”

„But—” he starts, but you interrupt him.

„Swear on Suzie’s life.”

„I swear,” he says curtly. He wrestles with himself about whether to tell you about Eddie’s feelings. But he too has promised not to say anything.

„But—” Dustin starts again, but he doesn’t know how to continue without revealing Eddie’s secret. „Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean—what if—what if Eddie does have feelings for you?”

You laugh softly, but it’s a sad laugh.

„Dustin, Eddie is—well, Eddie. He’s my best friend, and I’m sure that’s all we’ll ever be. And that’s okay. I don’t want to risk our friendship.”

Dustin wants to argue, wants to tell you that you’re wrong, but he knows he promised Eddie to keep his secret. But now the situation is more serious than he ever expected.

„I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but—”

You interrupt him with a gentle smile.

„It’s okay, Dustin. Really. I appreciate your concern, but I need to do this. Maybe it will help me gain a bit of clarity.”

You check your watch.

„Sorry, I have to go. Jason and I are meeting in half an hour in front of the movie theater. See you then.”

You stand up and walk away, not seeing how Dustin watches you go and then starts running.

Chapter 3: Run Boy Run

Dustin isn’t running for his life, but for the happiness of his friends. Eddie’s trailer isn’t far, but far enough to push the not-so-athletic Dustin to his limits. Over and over, his body cries out for a break, but he keeps running.Eddie has to know… he has to know now… Dustin repeats in his head as he races through the streets of Hawkins. When he sees the rundown trailer in the distance, he speeds up even more. He can’t let you end up in someone else’s arms when Eddie loves you.With stitches in his side and a painful chest, he finally arrives at Eddie’s place.

„Eddie!” he pounds frantically on the trailer, „For heaven’s sake, Eddie!”

Eddie opens the door with a cigarette in his mouth.

„Jesus, Henderson,” he says, looking at him, „are you okay?”

„No,” Dustin gasps, clutching his chest, „but… that’s… irrelevant.”

He gasps for breath, leaning on his knees.

„Kid,” Eddie comes outside and stares at Dustin, „do you want a drink?”

„NO!” Dustin shouts, having to cough once.„It’s… about… [y/n],” the coughing turns into gagging.

„Is something wrong?” Eddie grabs Dustin’s shoulders in a panic, „Is she hurt?”

„No… date.”

„She has a date?” Eddie asks wearily, releasing Dustin, then grins maniacally, „Good for her. With whom?”

„Jason,” Dustin gasps.

„JASON!” Eddie yells and bursts into loud laughter. If Dustin weren’t on the verge of passing out, he might feel fear. „That’s wonderful! Jason is gorgeous and everyone loves him!”

He slams his fist against the trailer with full force.

„Jason,“ he repeats. His voice is deep, almost a growl, and his eyes are dark with anger.

„Eddie,” Dustin gasps, turning left once and vomiting loudly.

„Heaven, Henderson!” Eddie’s manic state is shattered by the vomiting. „That’s disgusting.”

„That doesn’t matter right now!” Dustin turns back to Eddie and stares at him.

„Listen to me, Eddie. You have to go there and stop it!”

„Why should I?” a sad expression crosses Eddie’s face. „She obviously knows what she wants. And it’s not me.”

„Eddie,” he grabs his friend by the shoulders, „listen to me carefully. You need to run there now. You have to!”

He tries to burn the information into Eddie’s brain without speaking the entrusted secret. He would never put Suzie’s life at risk.

„Dustin,” Eddie starts again, but Dustin interrupts him through clenched teeth.

„Eddie, I know you’re not the brightest bulb in the lamp, but please, for God’s sake, JESUS, Eddie. I’m trying to tell you something, put two and two together.”

You can clearly read in Eddie’s face how his brain is ticking. And then it seems to click.

Without another word, Eddie wriggles out of Dustin’s grip and takes off running.

„You have to go to the theater!” Dustin shouts after him, and Eddie gives a thumbs-up over his shoulder.

Dustin laughs loudly, cheers, and watches until Eddie’s figure disappears on the horizon. Slowly, with a sore hip, Dustin makes his way home.

Eddie runs. Faster than Dustin, and it feels to him as if he is actually running for his life.

You stand at the movie theater, looking around and waiting for Jason. By now, he’s five minutes late and you wonder if he will even show up. But then you see a figure running towards you in the distance. You raise your hand and smile slightly. Strange, you think, it almost looks like Eddie. The wild, flailing hair and the strange way of running, a bit like a duck. And then you see that it is indeed Eddie.

„Eddie!” you call out in surprise as he reaches you. „What are you doing here?”

„Henderson,” he gasps, „said—”

„WHAT did that little stinker say,” you snap, „Eddie, everything he said—”

He interrupts you by placing his hands on your face and gently kissing you. You feel his rapid breath, but yours is just as fast. And you haven’t even been running.

He moves his lips softly against yours, and your hands find their way to his neck, playing with the curls there. When he pulls away from the kiss, you stare at him dazed.

„If Henderson lied, I’ll kill him,” Eddie murmurs.

„Who’s Henderson?” you ask. Your mind has no room for any more thoughts. It is completely occupied with Eddie’s eyes, his lips, his scent.

„Small, curly hair, very good at keeping secrets,” Eddie smiles lovingly at you, „so he didn’t tell you anything?”

„Telling me what?” you ask.

Eddie grins wider and kisses you again. You don’t even notice that Jason has stood you up. You’ve completely forgotten about the movie theater. The evening will end in Eddie’s trailer.

[afsosville]

An extension to the PIDW x Ever After High AU

The first post was pretty short so I'm going to put it here too.

For clarity, the 'parents' in this AU are the OG PIDW characters, and will go by their courtesy name, and the children are an AU version of them and have their birth name (so SQQ is the parent and SJ is the kid, YQY is the parent and YQ is the kid, LBG, is the parent, and  LBM is the kid, or at least a more mentally stable version of Bingmei? etc) 

SJ is pretty much fanon SJ, and a very mellowed out version of him, since in this AU, he didn't end up as a slave. Still traumatized tho. I like my Shen Jius traumatized. Shen Jiu is Raven in this AU, and he DOES NOT like his destiny. That's putting it lightly. NO ONE is happy. YQ doesn't want to be forced to abandon SJ and go through a horrifying qi deviation in the Lingxi Caves. And have his little brother's severed legs be sent to him as a present one day, and walk to his death the next. Yikes. Liu Mingyu doesn't want to die prematurely and have his shixiong be falsely accused of his murder. And Binghe doesn't like it either because he had a better childhood too, and is, well, disturbed, by the shit his father did, and the fate that's written for him. Binghe has his issues and he's that one quote "My father is the worst man alive and I am his favourite son". Like he knows the shit his dad did was completely unhinged. Him and the Book of Legends bear most of his hatred, and he never really has anything against Shen Jiu.

Everything just sorta revolves around everyone finding out what kinda person 'Shen Qingqiu' really is, along with the defying destiny thing Ever After High had going on. All the kids are just getting along far better than any of their parents did. The other mxtx characters are in here too, Wei Ying, Lan Zhan, Wen Ning, etc. 

LBG is totally going to be here too. He's acting all creepy towards SJ, like this mf is so close to tearing his off limbs too, and he's really tryna hold himself back. And he's fully planning to torture him too once his son puts Shen Jiu is the water prison because his SQQ is already dead. When he sees SJ in the flesh, he's eying him in a way that screams "I'm going to own you and there's little stopping me from having you in chains like your father." SJ is not so subtly hiding behind LBM, while LBM is so ready to fight his father to the death for SJ. 

The OG PLs from PIDW will definitely have some fucking regrets and will try to make it up to SJ coz the person they actually wronged is long dead (or is he?). And the peak lord kids are running interference everytime their parents want to get close to SJ, with maybe the exception of SQH and LQG. OG! LQG is alive because. Well I'll think of smt later. Plant body revival???? 

QHT has a son and a daughter who are supposed to be QJL and QHT, as is their so-called destiny. During Legacy Day, the kid that's supposed to end up like QJL sees flashes of his uncle's life and ofc he'll end up seeing the abuse SQQ endured under him. It is at that moment, what really happened in the Qiu manor was revealed. QHT's son is actually a chill dude who hates his destiny too and hates his uncle even more. SJ and QHT's kids are cool with each other, and this pisses off QHT so much lol.

Now more onto SQQ.

This mf is ALIVE and KICKING. And by that I mean he absolutely did pull mushroom body getaway and did some serious demonic cultivator bullshit to animate his dead body like some voodoo god. LBG was straight up torturing a corpse lol. SQQ originally didn't want to sign either but decided to do it anyway because he knew LBG definitely wanted to. SQQ thought that he should legitimately try to kill him so he doesn't turn into that. SQQ knew that ofc he would ultimately die in the end, but thought his villain halo could still try to do some damage to LBG, and to prevent his rise to power, and work against the destiny he signed at the same time. Obviously, the protagonist still had to come out on top and SQQ failed miserably. So. Mushroom getaway>>

Listen, those mushrooms were obviously supposed to be used in the OG PIDW. and somehow weren't iirc. And it was supposed to be used by a villain. So yes, SQQ's generation does end up being PIDW complacent. Except SQQ is a smartass and is living his life away from any destiny bullshit rn.

SJ/LBM will reunite with SQQ.

SQQ will end up liking LBM but he's still a mother hen, so he'll be giving him a really hard time before he's ready to let him anywhere near his son.

SQQ was separated from his son until this point. The name SQQ meant to give him was Jiu, as in turtledove. Which has this whole meaning of 'enduring love'. He meant for SJ to not turn out like him and to live out his best life despite what life throws at him. I absolutely love the fics where the author makes the Jiu in Shen Jiu be the character for turtledove. And with SQQ-J taking care of his younger self in a way. SQQ and SJ are going to have the fluffiest father-son relationship because I deem it to be so. Unlike LBG and LBM, my badd:/ Have fun with those daddy issues, buddy.

Within the chaos that is SQQ's mind, he really did not regret doing what he did to LBG, but y'know, having some time to himself while he was on his sabbatical, he learnt a few things about himself, and how he used LBG's future self to justify trying to kill smn who otherwise didn't do anything wrong (yet). And the fact that things could've turned out better if he truly went with his heart and hadn't signed the book like his son will HAUNT HIM. Sure LBG may or may not have wanted his destiny but SQQ definitely didn't!! He could've fucked up his story by not signing it just the same!! This is totally not eating him up alive!! Yup!! He just haddddd to sign it and thought be could kill LBG to avoid future devastation. Said future devastation still came to pass lol. RIP SQQ's sanity, I truly feel for you.

Let me make this worse. LBG didn't want to sign it either and was peer pressured into doing it. He genuinely thought he could reason with SQQ after Legacy Day and tell him he really didn't want them to hurt each other. And he was so sure SQQ felt the same way, he could've sworn they were on the same page- but then he saw how determined SQQ was to sign the Book of Legends on Legacy Day. And when SQQ's hardened gaze locked in on LBG, he met SQQ's eyes, promising a future of pain for them both. LBG ignores the way his heart shatters at the resolution.

Look, enemies to lovers BingJiu is fine and all, but consider LOVERS to ENEMIES BINGJIU!!! I'm just imagining BingJiu animatics in head with Taylor Swift's Bad Blood egckfxv.,

Coz yes, even the prev B9 gen totally had smt going on. Too bad for them tho, it ain't happening.

The rest is stuff from the first post >>>

Imagine how fucked up it would be if Shen Jiu is up there doing the book signing ceremony that seals his destiny of becoming the next 'Shen Qingqiu', and the mirrors display him getting thrown away by his martial siblings at the trial, and his limbs being torn off and other despicable tortures, and being brought down so low that your humanity is stripped away from you, all for an audience to see. And they cheer. The crowd is ecstatic, perhaps even more so than when his father, Shen Qingqiu, was put on trial.

 Shen Jiu x Pain is my favourite ship, can you tell??

Shen Jiu is barely 15 when this happens and every goddamn person is reveling in this child getting tortured. Amidst the sea of people who loathe him, there is one person not advocating for his death, and that is LBH’s son!! The very person that’s supposed to kill him!!! When LBM sees the same hopelessness that he feels in SJ’s eyes, he decides at that moment that he will be SJ’s number one defender. Everything else be damned. When SJ announces that he will not be pledging to a life of misery, LBM gets up on that stage and makes it clear that he won’t either. 

OML I did smt cool. You see the parallel I just fucking made wowwwwww.

Snippets that my mutes made for this AU 🩷🩷🩷

By Sleepyssnail

By Celestialbruise

Og post

[futuristicanoe]

still waters run deep

part— 1 ;

mature themes - [ - alcohol, blood, unspecified health issues, power imbalance undertones, weirdness, etc ]

Sunlight always made your room look dusty.

When you woke up with a gasp, it felt as if you had just broken away from a fight – something like a pillow fight, maybe. And it had left your bed messy, your breath shaky. Instead of an uncontrollable laughter, a scream was begging to bubble up in your throat at the reminder –

Oh, it was just a dream. Just a daunting fantasy-turned-nightmare, which only jolted to life after excruciating weeks ended.

You were glad that you had removed the sticky makeup before going to bed, because the searing heat around you was making your skin crawl already. Clinging to you tightly like it had turned into liquid overnight – the dotting sweat on your forehead, the dusty air pouring down your lungs like rainwater – you coughed, sitting up.

Henry's bar has a tiny room with a bed in it, and you had claimed it as yours without really meaning to. When he gave you the key to every room, you took that as an invitation. His way of showing how much he trusted you could never be something he would actually talk about like a normal person.

Henry was not abnormal. He was just fine. For a man who did not have to do anything for you, he seemed keen to help, and that might have disconcerted some people - normal people, perhaps. Not you.

You were not abnormal. It's just that nobody treated you like they wanted to understand you, and while Henry was doing exactly that, he was a decent man, and he had enough money to give you some part of it without thinking much, too. No questions asked. You knew what to look for.

With a sigh and a sleep-blurry haze over your eyesight, you reached under your pillow to pull the card out.

You had tucked it away all nicely the moment you got in bed, hiding it from the rest of the world. Not having the slightest idea what you could do with it the next day, but you knew it was yours, so that meant you could do anything you wanted.

The card looked even prettier with better lightning. Better than most business cards, at least. Not that you've been given many before, other than whatever doctors jumble up and throw at every single patient, saying, "This is me!" And they are never wrong.

Dull.

The card in your hand was inviting, like the cover of a book that promised intrigue and some ambiguous bitter-sweet ending. No happy tears, but a memorable time.

It was only a matter of two minutes before you picked up your phone and called the number.

The strangest thing to see was the inside of your eyelids, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The sunlight made them look red.

You could never understand why the sun felt this need to change everything, morph beings into some temporarily colourful things, and then disappear down the horizon without a single promise of coming back. One shouldn't even look at it, because it will damage their eyes. Yet everyone looks up at the sky to see the meaning of life.

Maybe because it was not a spinning rock, it was a star... oh, yes. Far away, unreachable, scalding, loud-

Somebody picked up the call.

It was a young woman.

"Good morning! Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino. My name is Sophia. How may I help you?"

Her voice sounded soft. Full of warmth, but not fiery.

"Good morning. Can I- could I speak to the..."

Socializing has always been difficult for you. Even more so when there is a phone call to be made and suddenly you felt foolish, kind of speechless, staring daggers at the card like it would give you an answer. For a split second, you couldn't help but wonder if you seemed steady and sure of yourself, like Sophia, when you were stuck behind that bar counter last night, or any other day, in any other place.

"Would you like to speak to the host, ma'am?"

It was absurdly easy to distract you.

"Yes," you said quickly, snapping back into the conversation.

"Unfortunately, Mr Turner is unavailable at the moment. Would you like to speak to anyone else, ma'am?"

You frowned. "...Mr–" What was that name? "Mark is unavailable?"

There was a small pause on Sophia's end.

"Oh, no. He will get to you in just a minute, ma'am. Please, wait here."

You were about to thank her when the line beeped loudly.

A repetitive melody echoed through the speaker, and you let out a huff. It only made your nervous state worse, the anticipation.

You were trying to untangle your legs from the blanket to sit more comfortably, but they did not budge.

Every part of this place really kept you stuck like a pulpy mess of a swamp, smothering your will to live with its filthy hands.

The line went silent again.

You stopped your movements.

"Mark speaking."

He sounded different over the phone, like he was trying too hard to be comprehensible.

You did not respond right away, but just as you opened your mouth, he said, "Allô?"

"I– Hello. It's me."

It was weird that you expected him to recognise your voice. But he did not know your name either.

At least, you had not told him.

"Ah. Of course. And do you know what time it is?"

He recognised you. The lack of emotion in his voice could be ignored for a bit.

His unfettered curiosity would come back soon enough.

You swallowed noisily, almost heard your throat click, and you had to close your eyes to keep the sanity intact.

"No, sir." There you go. Habits like pine needles in your mouth.

"It is twenty past six. I start my day at seven, you see. Sometimes half past seven, too."

For no particular reason, you looked at the thin gap between the windowsill and the wall and shivered, as if on cue. It felt like waking up all over again. What did you even pick up the phone for? To call him at this hour, while you were trembling like a sunburnt leaf and tangled, still, in your blanket?

Oh, yes. The nightmare had led you there.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"Being unaware is alright. And Sophia is new, too..." He sighed. "So, how can I help you?"

You rubbed your eyes. The timbre of his voice was so smooth, it was calming you down already. With your phone pressed to your ear, his words landed on the strained side of your migraine with a cooling pressure. Sleek. And you hadn't even been paying attention to how your breath was still shaky, your fingers numb.

"Let me make it easier. Why did you call me?"

Distractions, again.

"You left the number there. For me. I assumed you wanted me to call."

He hummed. "That's true. But it's not why you called me. You don't sound very sure."

"Really?" You coughed. "I'm just exhausted."

"Couldn't sleep?"

You wanted to disappear, kind of.

"No... I mean, I got some sleep."

You could hear another quick "hmm."

"It wasn't good enough, then? A bad dream, perhaps."

There it was. The curiosity.

"I can get restless sometimes. It's nothing, just need to go out more, get some fresh air. But I don't like the heat. The sun... it hurts my eyes."

"I see. Well, at dusk, it is more tolerable outside than I imagine it must be right now. At least over here. You could go out with some friends." he went quiet for just a second. "You have friends, don't you?"

You laughed. A short, humourless laugh.

"Of course."

"Good. Don't fret, but I have an offer to make." He said it like there was a smile lodged in his throat. "The hotel is very quiet lately. You know the stillness- silence that seems to surround a place, when it's undergoing some... changes?"

He paused, waiting for your answer, but you said nothing.

"Your side of the town is much louder. Not in the way I was hoping it would be, but- I tried to escape the silence last night, have a nice drink, talk to somebody.

All I got was cherry pie... Though you have the knack for keeping conversations lovely, don't you?"

He laughed.

His tone had changed, like he has known you for long enough to do that with you – get all personal and make unfunny jokes. Talk to you at 6:34 on a sweltering morning when you feel like snow and death. Out of place, but right where you want to be, all at once.

Your world was much louder, yes.

You never liked that, and nobody would like it for you, either. Because it wasn't ever about obnoxious laughter, parties, and water– pillow fights, hide and seek hysterics, no. Just an endless series of cacophony. Day after day, crushing and shattering on top of you like washed up dolls and whenever you went to sleep — you could have sworn they remained awake, but quiet, unmoving. You never learned how to stay quiet and docile like those doe-eyed things.

And you always had silent dreams.

It was nice, until it wasn't, because you realized you couldn't scream if you needed to.

When he said that you "and your friends" should visit Tranquility Base, it was easy to see through him.

Mark didn't want a silent life. But as he had you hushed for a minute there, keeping your mind calm, for the first time in your life – you didn't feel like protesting.

"Alright," you said. "I'll be there."

Mark started his day at twenty past six a.m. so he ended it at twenty to seven in the evening. Right before dusk, he put on the white suit jacket over his white shirt.

He looked smooth. Brisk and bitter all at once, what with the saltchuck-chalky allure of his outfit. No lurid colours this time. He was a blank page.

Mark cut his hair the night before.

Just to stop the mild "party in the back" from growing out later. Now it was a neat cut. And when he combed his hair back, putting on some proper grease and letting the sharp ends curl behind his ears, he looked like an alien's idea of how a weird man would dress up to seem friendly.

He had the overall plan for the day mapped out in his head, but the picture in his mind turned to grey marble when he saw you standing in front of the reception desk. Alone.

You were wearing different clothes. Obviously trying to be more formal and serious, like an expensive doll. Compared to Mark's pristine look, you were something akin to a smudged bruise, drowning in dark blue and red hues, an abrasion — ready to sting and bleed whenever.

As he looked at your fingers gripping your elbow, how you stood with one knee slightly bent, and the loose fabric of your shirt fell down into thin layers without covering your belt, Mark decided he preferred seeing you like this.

You caught his gaze, and he smiled, crocodile smoothness glinting in every sharp corner of his face.

Mark gently nudged your shoulder and called out for Sophia, who was on the phone currently. He didn't seem to care much about that.

"Sophia, tell everyone I'll be out for a while, yes? I've got..."

He said your last name, and how you would spend some time with him. It was weird to think that he knew something so personal about you, while you didn't. Regardless of your churning feelings, you smiled out of awkwardness.

With Mark almost glued to your side and the clear glass of a pretty drink in your hands, you went towards the exit door. You didn't even have enough time to take the place in; the extravagant interior, the silver sculptures in the corner that had caught your eye before Mark came into view and stole the spotlight.

It was a bit like going to church as a kid. Stunned and dazzled by your surroundings, yet feeling every sickness- or whatever it was, that made a better life seem so distant and out of reach. And Mark could play the role of a mysterious pastor well. Someone gloomy, but drenched in performative purity. Or maybe it was just you.

As soon as you two were out of the door, he put on a pair of sunglasses. They were colourful. Not just any colour, they were red. The expensive shade of red.

Does he know the sun is going to be down soon?

The field was a nice place to stand. Just to stand, because there was nothing else you could do, really. It looked bleak, like in winter. The grass wasn't green enough, there were no notable flowers or even rocks.

"I thought you wanted to show me the hotel," you said, bringing the glass up to your mouth and just resting it against your bottom lip. You frowned at the bitter smell. "Campari?"

He grinned, like you passed a test he had given you unpromptedly. "Yes."

"Nothing else?" You furrowed your eyebrows, but he didn't look away or give you an answer, so you took a sip with little thought.

You tried not to grimace.

"Too much?" He asked, looking at the way you pursed your lips.

"No, just- I'm not the biggest fan of Campari."

"I thought you'd like the red."

"I do," you said, swirling the ice around. "It's pretty."

"That's good."

"So... why are we here, again?"

"The sunset, of course."

Mark halted his steps completely and sat down on the grass, just like that.

Watching how easily he did it, not caring about a single shiny thread in his suit, you felt almost anxious.

His head was at your hip level now. You noticed the haircut.

"Am I supposed to like this, too?"

"I don't think you are supposed to hate it. It will be pretty."

You reluctantly sat down next to him, dreading the feeling of being so close to the Earth, but the horizon was pleading to be looked at with consideration.

The cloudless sky filled with deep orange and red. It felt as if the world was mourning, spinning and it really was, wasn’t it? You sipped the Campari.

"I hate knowing that it'll be dark outside by the time I leave," you said.

The scenery drew you in too easily. You weren't looking at him, or the sunset, but just staring ahead. Letting your eyes grow unfocused, even if the sun had made them sting already. Some unspoken language between you and the lilting summer breeze made you calm, brushing against your cheeks and sweeping the hair up at your temples.

Mark pulled off his sunglasses and put it in the pocket of his suit. He was studying your side profile, the golden glow reflected in your eyes, the way your lips twitched when you frowned. How you seemed unsure, even in your silence.

"Something out there?"

Your head whipped around. "Hm?"

"You seem unsettled." Mark shifted his position on the grass, bending one knee and putting his forearm on it. Casual and awkward, kind of like a neighbour invited to your birthday party. "Does the dark scare you? Or is it just, hmm... harder to be alone when you don't feel the home around you?"

You took your time to look at him properly. The tip of his nose was slightly pink. The wind had ruffled his hair.

You didn't know what he wanted to understand, exactly, but he wanted to know the answer. It made you feel like a ghost, as if he could touch your soul with one more carefully timed question. Cut through the mist and shake you apart, and it wasn't even that dark yet.

"You know, I don't live in a castle. If I have a home, and if something is out there and it wants to get me— it will, anyway." You put your glass on the ground, between his hip and your thigh. "I just don't wanna stick around for too long. Don't wanna be the one to lure it in."

"I can tell you something for sure. You don't want to be too much, so you are vague. Still intense, but it's under the surface–"

"That's kind of rude," you said and let out a nervous laugh.

"–Don't you know that's exactly what matters the most?"

Quite quizzical.

No doubt, you looked puzzled.

"Whatever is in there," he says and motions at your head. "That's what they can see, you know? That's what you need to keep all safe."

"Why would I sit here and pour my heart out with you?"

"It's not me." He narrowed his eyes, sending you an almost accusatory glance, before adding casually, "But what if you need help?"

"I don't understand."

You laughed again.

It was like he was trying to find the right words, and that felt even more patronising. "What kind of person doesn't seek a home?"

"Are you lecturing me?" You raised your voice.

"No." He smiled like your words were ridiculous and looked away again. "I'm just... judging. That's all."

"That's all? Oh, I get it now." You scoffed. It was clear that he was just pushing you, riling you up, but you couldn't stop. "Is this what you were looking for?"

Mark raised an eyebrow. It was his turn to look confused.

"When you came to the bar last night, is this what you wanted?" You felt shivery, almost too hot and too cold at once. "But I wasn't who you were looking for. Is this loud enough for you now?"

"There is no need for any theatrics..."

His words got blurry, just like the sky.

It looked blue around the edges, dim, fuzzy.

You closed your eyes.

Darkness.

The inside of your eyelids didn't look red this time, and you could feel the rush of wind against your skin.

There was warmth.

A gentle hand on your shoulder— no, the heat had stilled behind your eyes. Stagnant before it started to melt, and you felt something moving, tipping over, wetness trickling down inside the bridge of your nose.

You opened your eyes and saw him kneeling next to you, scrambling to take something out of his pocket– a handkerchief.

The glass you had put on the ground was knocked over, forgotten.

Your hands went up to your face instinctively, cupping your nose, and you almost shrieked when he grabbed your wrists with a firm grip.

"Shhh. Easy, easy... There you go."

Mark pressed the handkerchief to your face, dabbing at the blood and keeping you in place with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. The unexpected strength made you feel off-kilter. He just kept cooing.

"Are you going to cry? Don't cry, you'll bleed more."

You tried to pull away when he brought the handkerchief back to your face.

"Oh, don't go anywhere..."

He stopped the blood from flowing as quickly as possible. Lulling your feeble protests, telling you to quiet down and how all okay you were going to be.

When he saw your bloodied hands squirming and fidgeting with your own clothes, he pulled the handkerchief away for a moment, and let your sticky fingers cling to his suit instead. If you had been weirdly anxious about the muddy earth ruining it, there is no doubt you got even closer to crying just then.

You felt filthy. Like some stray dog, like dust on the road. You just had to turn into a mess at some point, always.

Mark tried to stay still, until he realized he couldn't keep you motionless because you were trembling, quivering from within, so he rocked you gently.

It felt humiliating, yet he made it seem more casual than crazy. Like he would just forget about it the next day and you would, too.

He tentatively allowed his hand to move from your shoulder, patting your head when you coughed, and he couldn't help himself and smile.

"Atta girl. Who knew you could listen, huh?"

Your forehead was pressed to his chin, and you could feel his smile on your skin.

"Don't do that," you grumbled when he began stroking your hair, brushing it back just like the wind had done earlier. It was actually nice.

"Why not? Does it feel bad?"

You didn't answer the question he asked, but the one you should have been asking yourself. "It's gettin' late. I need to go."

"Oh, you aren't going anywhere."

If there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, you didn't pay any attention to it.

"Not alone," he added and pulled away. You shivered.

Mark stood up, absentmindedly removing the dirt from his trousers. He looked down at you.

You had the handkerchief clutched tightly in your hands and when you looked up at him, expecting his suit to be stained with crimson, you were greeted with... the fabric looked merely muddy in the dark. The redness wasn't clear at all.

"Time to go," he said, offering a hand.

You grabbed his forearm with hesitation, but he helped you stand up properly with no snarky remarks, and you muttered a quiet, "Thank you," which must have been loud enough since he nodded.

Mark got home at nine. With you by his side, throwing too many questions at him, like he would care to catch them all — but no, no, he was feeling nice. Seeing how easy it was to unnerve you, he wouldn't want to overdo it. He wasn't cruel like a cartoon villain, even though he looked like one.

(You even dared to ask about the 'haircut', too, during the walk. And you didn't get an answer. Probably because the question was a murmured "Do you straighten your hair—")

You sat down on his bed.

Mark called out from the bathroom, saying that he would tell Henry you couldn't look after the bar for a few days, and at the same time you wanted to tell him you could just go back in the morning, made a mental note to ask Henry about him, and wanted to think of another question, but you were too sleepy. Woozy. Your bones felt heavy, your legs drained of any energy, your head hurt, still.

You went to sleep, in his bed, at ten past nine.

Alone.

[hp-hcs]

I just had a Crazy thought. Idk if I’ve EVER read a Ton Riddle x ftm Reader before and now I’m CURIOUS. Pls （＾ν＾）

yk, i dont think i’ve ever seen one either 🤨 which is some BULLSHIT if you ask me

ANYWAYS i have no idea what this is but yk i actually finished something so that’s pretty girlypop. also GODDAMNIT i need more tom using 40s slang

phoenix tears (chapter three of phoenix tears) — 40s! tom riddle x ftm! dumbass! granger! reader

he’s babygirl i don’t make the rules

problem solving by creating more problems, a case study by harry potter and y/n fr

glad to see all of the ftms have found my acc, i love all of y’all mwah

TWs: ‘40s era homophobia; couple of outdated homophobic slurs; i guess tom misgendering reader? but he like, doesn’t even know what being trans is so-

requests? please? i beg??

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What’s this?” You pulled a wrinkled old book out of Harry’s trunk, sitting down on the wood floor of his dorm, crisscross applesauce.

The cover must’ve once been very fine leather, but it was now warped with water damage and age. The pages were brittle and seemed liable to disintegrate at the lightest touch. But the most prominent part of the book was that there was a charred black hole right through the center.

“Huh? Oh- Tom Riddle’s diary. His very first horcrux,” Harry glanced up at you from where he was also sat on the floor, desperately trying to organize all of the shit that was in his trunk to begin with.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Nope, not in the slightest.”

You opened the cover, the leather creaking and cracking under the slightest pressure. You were surprised to find that the diary was completely blank inside. You flipped through a few more pages; nothing. It was totally empty.

Unless Tom Riddle had only written in the center of where the odd, charred hole was. Which was, y’know, pretty unlikely.

“How’d you destroy it?”

Harry frowned to himself, trying to decide if Runes homework from two years ago should go in the keep or throw away pile. “Basilisk fang. Has Ginny seriously never told you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide. He grinned at you, handing you a stack of various important-looking documents mixed in with past homework assignments to go through, and immediately dove into his story of shallow teachers and secret chambers and blood on the walls.

You gaped at him in awe as he finished his story. “But wait- if Fawkes’ tears were all you needed to like…heal and not die, would the same work on the diary?”

Harry paused, looking up at you. “That’s…a good question.”

“Think we should try?” You asked. “Maybe Teenager Tom could talk some sense into Adult Tom?”

Harry seemed to genuinely consider it before shaking his head. “Ach, but Hermione would kill us.”

Your shoulders dropped and you frowned as you think about your sister. “But…she’s at the Burrow tonight, remember?”

“Well,” Harry said slowly, still on the fence. “If Hermione’s not around to scold us...”

~~~ “This was a terrible idea this was such a terrible fucking idea-”

The diary smoked and hissed, writhing around on the floor. The book flapped open, the pages ruffling around and fizzing.

Scrambling backwards, you clung onto Harry, praying Slughorn wouldn’t walk in. Or worse, Filch.

You’d snuck into the Potions classroom after curfew, hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak, with the intent of finding phoenix tears. After going through Slughorn’s potion cabinet, you'd found the vial all the way in the back. Which, of course, had led to you two deciding to test your theory about the diary right then and there.

The diary suddenly made a pop noise, like someone cracking bubblegum. It then stilled all of its movement, lying open at the center of the book, when a dark liquid, ink, began seeping out from it. The ink pooled around the book, turning all of the pages black and heavy.

You mentally cursed the stain it would leave on the flagstones.

The diary then erupted with a bright light, rattling against the floor with the exertion of whatever magic it was using.

Harry pushed you back behind him, forcing you to sit down and throwing his invisibility cloak over you, then pulling out his wand. Taking an offensive stance in front of where you were hidden, he waited, every muscle in his body coiled like an animal waiting to lunge.

The light seemed to grow thicker, like honey, and started taking a corporeal form. Then just like that, the light vanished, and the form—a person, by the looks of it—crumpled on the floor in a rather undignified heap.

The person staggered to its- his feet.

Tom Riddle, you thought, holding your breath.

God, he was pretty.

He started laughing, seemingly unaware of neither you nor Harry’s existence. “O Lord and butter, now we’re cooking with gas!”

You blinked. All of that was English, but not a single word of it made sense.

How old was Tom Riddle?

Harry took a tentative step forward, hiding his wand behind his back. “Are…you alright?”

Tom whirled around, startled by the sudden voice. He looked Harry up and down appraisingly before a wild grin spread across his face. “All reet? A schnook done brought me back!” He laughed rather maniacally, eyes gleaming. “What’s your name then? I oughtta thank you.”

Harry’s lips thinned. “We’ve met before, Tom.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised. “We…have?”

Wordlessly, Harry pushed up his fringe.

Tom drew in a sharp breath. “Potter.”

“Riddle.”

“So what, you’ve brought me back to kill me again?” He sneered. “There’s no basilisk around to save you this time, Potter.”

When Tom took a step towards Harry, you gasped quietly—evidently not quietly enough though, because Tom’s head swung around towards you.

He stared straight at you. You held your breath again, praying that he’d go back to threatening Harry, or something.

Instead Tom stepped closer to you, mumbling a quiet Revelio. He smiled and leaned down, tugging the cloak off of your head.

“Well well well, what’s this? A spook?” He pulled the cloak off of you completely, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Hm. Well aren’t you a bit of a scrag, cookie?”

“I’m…sorry…?” You questioned, baffled. “I don’t speak old.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a bit plain and homely, doll,” he said with a mock-apologetic look on his face. “In the nicest way possible.”

“Aw, shucks,” you said dryly. “I was worried the genocidal maniac who’s killed a bunch of our friends might think I’m unattractive.”

He raised an eyebrow at your sarcasm, looking you up and down again. “Ah. Or are you a swish?” He asked, tilting his head. “Can’t quite tell.”

“A swish?”

“You know, a queer. One of those.”

You cringed. “Harry, make him go back in the fucking diary.”

“Did I hit a nerve, doll?” Tom asked with a smug smile.

“Not really, but I have a feeling that if I have to deal with your ancient ass any longer, you will.”

“Ooh, well ain’t you got moxie, little thing? Tell me, you a dame or a fella?”

“Ah yes, the two genders,” you mumbled under your breath, causing Harry to snort and cover his mouth with his hand. “I’m a uh…‘fella’.”

“You sure look like a gal to me.”

“Yeah, and you sure look like an asshole to me.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. You’re a mudblood, aren’t you?”

“Lot of sass coming from Mr. Pureblood over here.”

Tom took a striding step towards you, his teeth gritted and his fist raised.

“Wow, resorting to Muggle fighting? Wouldn’t expect that from you, Thomas Marvolo.”

His cheeks flared red with anger. “I oughtta-”

“It really sucks being made fun of for your blood status, doesn’t it?” You asked casually.

Tom paused.

He took a step back.

“All reet. I’ll admit, you got me there.”

Harry scowled. “Look, we wouldn’t have brought you back unless we had good reason. And Old You is now indiscriminately killing Muggles, which seems like a pretty fucking good reason, if you ask me.”

“Ah. Yes. That does seem to be an issue,” Tom acquiesced. “But why me?”

“We figured you could reason with Old You?” You jumped in. “Or at the very least, you’re the least corrupted; you have the most soul left.”

Tom shrewdly glanced between you and Harry, then back at you. “What do I get in return?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. What do you want?”

“Not to go back into that damned diary,” he said vehemently. “Never again.”

You glanced over at Harry. He shrugged. “We can try…?”

“Hipper dipper,” Tom replied dryly. “Where do we start?”

~~~

“Well that’s a barney old game the old coot’s been making you play, huh?”

“You’re just saying words,” Harry mumbled, resting his chin on his hand as you all sat at one of the Potions classroom tables. “Not a single part of that was comprehensible.”

“He basically just said that you’re fucked,” you shrugged. “You’ve been doomed to die since you were born. Dumbledore’s been raising you like a lamb for slaughter.”

Tom looked at you, surprised. “Well…yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Smarter than I look, Thomas.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll stop as soon as you you stop calling me a fairy.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why’s that bother you so much?”

“It’s a fucking slur, Thomas. This ain’t the forties, or whenever you’re from; people are allowed to be gay now.”

Tom froze, eyes wide. “W-what?”

“Yup.”

“Well, cut off my leg and call me shorty,” he murmured, amazed.

“Wait’ll he finds out you’re trans,” Harry mumbled, snorting.

You elbowed him in the side, rolling your eyes.

“Trans…?” Tom questioned.

“We don’t have that much time, Thomas. Focus up.”

“Natch, all reet,” he shook his head. “Are we ready then? Plan all set?”

You nodded, a sly grin spreading across your face.

“Let’s go fuck some shit up.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chapter four

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 14

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

Even with magic, it takes a couple hours to clean up the office. It’s almost a miracle, but nothing important is damaged. With the exception of the little glass figurine they weren’t able to fix back together, everything is just as it was. Privately, Remus thinks the room was long overdue a good clean up – there were notes scattered about from scholars who’d long moved on from whatever they were researching there, and even the books couldn’t remember when they’d been alphabetised.

Remus thinks to wait. To give them both time to regroup and recuperate, but something tells him that right now, Sirius needs to feel needed. To have something to do other than smoking with a cat and failing at crossword puzzles. He’s a hurricane of energy, even when his magic isn’t going haywire, and he’s been stuck in that tiny cell with nothing to do and no one to talk to for months.

There is a trapdoor, hidden under the rug and with a separate enchantment only Remus and the curator knows about. Remus fixes it open and pulls out the Box.

“What’s that?” Sirius asks, because the Box is wrapped in a shaggy brown blanket.

Remus puts it on the desk. “This is your job.”

Underneath the blanket is brilliant gold, etchings inlaid with lapis lazuli depicting Wepwawet and Anubis facing one another. There is no lock, no trick, no puzzle to get it to open.

“It was found in Segin al-Kom during a muggle expedition in the late eighteen hundreds,” Remus explains, “then lost in the British Museum’s storage until someone tried to open it and the Ministry had to get involved. Poor bastard is still at Mungo’s, the rest of the workers had their memories wiped.”

“How did you come upon it?”

“Kingsley was the Auror sent to retrieve it. He knows of my research - we’ve worked together in the past – and thought I could know something about it.”

“But you don’t?”

“No. No clue. But here,” he points behind the ear of Wepwawet, where tiny blue crystals form a constellation, “this is-”

“Lupus. I know. And this one is Aquila. With Alshain in red.”

“That’s obscure knowledge.”

“Well. Not to me.”

It’s a sore topic, clearly, Sirius’ face scrunching up at the nose in a way that’s too adorable to be good for Remus’ heart.

“Great. You’re ahead then. Figure out how to open it, if it even opens. There is something loose inside if you shake it, but -”

And Sirius, because he’s impulsive and reactionary and impatient, shakes it, immediately getting a doze of electric shock.

“But that. Next time maybe let me finish my sentence. Save yourself the pain.”

Sirius, clearly embarrassed, grumbles something in response and smooths his hair out. “Had to check for myself.”

Remus leaves him to examine the box. He has his own things to get on with and he will do so, damn it, just as soon as he can tear his eyes away from Sirius’ fingers carefully tracing lines and patterns on the surface of the Box.

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

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@onion-sliced-apples

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@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

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@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[hannahssimblr]

At the house, I am conscious of the mess. Nobody has made an effort to clean up properly for weeks, and now dishes and miscellaneous bits of rubbish litter every available surface. The bins are full. Tangles of chargers and cables pile up on the table, and water damage has well and truly set in on the oak flooring under our feet. The same patch of floor that Evie’s hair is dripping on now, but while it’s too late to save it, she might as well add to it. 

“Wow, this is a beautiful house,” she says, and I have to check her face to see if she’s taking the piss out of me. She looks genuinely charmed. I frown.  

“I’ll get you a towel downstairs.”

As we descend to the living room, I find myself holding my breath. It seems even dirtier than the kitchen there, and I wonder how and when this happened, how it is even possible. Yet here we are, and it is. I pray there are clean towels, at least let there be clean towels…

Oh, thank God. 

I hand her one from the hot press. It is old and scratchy, and likely a victim of my mother, back when she used to dye her hair at home, evidenced by the big, bleached patches all over it, but at least it’s clean. I show her the bathroom. 

“Feel free to take a shower if you want to. The water is hot.” As it constantly is, because I turned it on at the beginning of the summer and found the system so complex that I never risked turning it off again. I’ll be hearing about it when my dad gets the bill, but that’s an issue for September. 

Evie peeks in. “You don’t want to go first?”

“No, go ahead.”

As soon as I hear the hum of the shower, I pounce into action and tear into my bedroom. I yank all the dirty clothes off the floor and fire them into my already heaving hamper, then kick a pair of shoes under the bed, followed by a mucky football and some art magazine Jen thought I’d like, but I never read.

There are chocolate wrappers on the floor. What kind of creature am I? Was I sitting on the floor at some point, feasting on a family packet of dairy milk bars, or did these just fall out of my pockets? I rush around, picking them all up, then reach the wastepaper basket to find it full. I curse under my breath and yank the bag out, tying it in a hasty knot, then carry it and the two handfuls of coffee mugs strewn about the place up to the kitchen. There is nowhere for them to go, so I shove the mugs into the sink and toss the bag on the floor. 

She’s showering for ages. Good. 

Next, I tackle the bed, straightening out the duvet and pillows, which are, mercifully, clean. I could tongue-kiss the past version of myself that ran them through the wash two days before. To make extra sure, I give them a good, long sniff. They still smell like detergent. The clean clothes from that same wash go from the armchair to the wardrobe, and books on the bedside table. The tennis racquets… they’ll be fine, leaning against the wall. When I step back and examine my work, I determine that it’s barely passable, but time is surely running out, and she can’t shower forever. The dust on the floor can stay another day. 

Lastly, I toss my sweaty clothes onto the pile and peel off my sodden shorts. Once I have changed into something clean, I carry all the laundry out and heave it into the washing machine, right by the door of the bathroom. Evie hums tunelessly in the shower, and for a moment or two, I stand and listen. I wonder whose shower gel she is using, and shiver inexplicably at the idea of her choosing mine. 

I arrange myself in a casual position when she comes back into the room, hanging out on the end of the bed. She’s rosy from the hot water, and her hair lies flat against her head, so straight and fine that her ears poke out the sides. 

“You don’t have to wear the same wet t-shirt,” I inform her. “I can put your clothes in the dryer.”

She pulls at the hem and looks down at those two, damp, triangular patches. “It’s okay,” she shrugs. “They’ll dry on me.”

“You can leave all your wet stuff on the floor. I’ll sort them out after my shower and I’ll just find you something else to wear.”

“But I won’t fit in your clothes.”

“You’ll fit in a t-shirt, won’t you?” I saunter over to my wardrobe and lift a t-shirt from the stack. It’s old, and has a hole in the armpit, hence it’s permanent relegation to the beach house wardrobe, but like everything else in this house in its current state, it will suffice. 

“Thanks,” she says. I leave her to change and head for the shower. 

“What are you looking at?”

She jumps and turns around. I’ve caught her nosing around and looking at my notice board. She points at it. “Your ticket to a music festival.”

I hesitate, trying to gauge whether Claire has blabbed to her about what I said or not. “Oh yeah, are you coming?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should. All of us are heading up to it.” I pull a pair of socks out of a drawer and plonk myself onto the bed to put them on. 

She sits with me. “I’m not sure. It’s kind of a bit complicated.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” she hesitates before deciding to divulge. “Kelly and Claire are in a big fight about it. Claire wants to go, and Kelly doesn’t want to, even though it’s Claire’s eighteenth birthday the same weekend. It’s… it’s all a bit silly if I’m honest.”

I frown. “She doesn’t want to celebrate her friends’ birthday in a fun way?”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s that she doesn’t want to hang out with Shane for the whole weekend. She’d be too embarrassed to. She’s weird about that kind of thing.”

I should proceed with caution. I say, “sounds a little selfish to me.”

“Kelly’s a complicated person. I think she means well, she just… isn’t great at expressing herself. She gets angry at people instead of telling them how she feels in a normal way.”

I could talk a lot of shit about Kelly Healy, but I‘ll save it. I know that teenage girls’ friendships are strange and nuanced in ways my brain will never fully comprehend. Things never seem to be simple enough to just end the friendship. It must drag on for eternity until one of them is irreparably damaged in its wake. “So what, she’s forbidden you both from going to the festival?”

“She hasn’t said that we’re forbidden.”

“But you’re not going because you think she’ll be angry with you.”

“Pretty much.”

“So what about Claire? It’s her birthday.”

She groans. “I know. I hate this. I hate when people are fighting, and I feel like I’m in the middle of it. I don’t know what the right decision is.”

Tell me about it. “The thing that you want to do more, that’s the right decision.”

“I knew you’d say something like that.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Something wise.”

I laugh. If only I could take my own advice. 

She heaves out a sigh and slumps over her knees. “I can’t talk to either of them about it. Kelly is impossible, and Claire hasn’t been around. I’ve barely seen her at all since they fought. I don’t even know where she’s been.”

I blink. “Oh, she’s been here.”

“What?”

“Yeah! I thought you knew. She’s been coming here every day for ages.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“And did she tell you why?”

“No, I didn’t ask. I thought it was just to hang out with Shane.”

“With Shane?” She straightens to look into my face and I grin.

“Yeah, they’ve been hanging out.”

“Go ’way.”

“I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but they hang out a lot, go for walks together and watch TV in the living room. I usually just leave them alone, but…” I tap my nose.

“Oh, I knew it!” She throws herself back on to her elbows and shakes her head. “I wonder what this is going to mean for Kelly.”

“Kelly can grow up. She doesn’t have a say.”

“Ugh. I know. It’s just impossible not to worry about it.”

“Evie, how often do you let that girl live inside your head? Forget about it. Let Shane and Claire deal with her.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

It’s not lost on me, the juxtaposition between this conversation and the one I had with Alison this morning. These two girls are only a year apart in age, and yet somehow their lives oppose so diametrically. Am I the same boy with them both, or have I somehow split in two? How can I be worrying about Alison and all that she’s been through, while hours later coaching Evie through friend drama? I know the turmoil and stress is real for her. I can tell by the things her face is doing, how she nibbles on her lip, the way her brow furrows, but I am comforted by it, by how simple it is. Maybe it would be good for my soul to spend more time with Evie. 

Regardless, I move on from this specific theme and bring the conversation back to where it began. “And as for the festival, I think you should come.”

“Hm.”

“Will you?” She doesn’t answer, so I assume she hasn’t heard me. I nudge her. “I want you to come. Will you come?”

“You want me to?” She echoes, like she doesn’t exactly believe it.

“I do.”

“Okay then.”

Perhaps someone else would find it worthwhile to read into the fact that she seems to want to do everything that I do, but I’m not really that bothered. I’m just glad that she agreed for the sake of herself. I suspect it may be a rarity for her. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter [2]

[jantostolemyheart]

Fic #1

Title: Please Don't Go

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale, Metatron, god

Pairings: Crowley/Aziraphale

Status: complete

Crowley followed Aziraphale as the angel left his book shop. The demon's eyes were wet, and they noticed their angel's eyes were glistening with unshed tears as well. A strange thing they noticed - Aziraphale was tracing a finger over his lips. Was he trying to feel the fading sensation of when Crowley's lips were pressed to his?

They followed Aziraphale as he got closer to the elevator that would take him back to Heaven. Just as he reached for the button...

"Angel, wait! Please-!" An anguished voice rang out. Suddenly, the angel felt himself wrapped tightly in familiar arms from behind, a face with features he knew so well pressed into his shoulders.

"'Ziraphale, don't leave me-" Crowley whispered. "Please. I need you-"

Metatron glared from next to the elevator. "Aziraphale, we haven't got all day," he said in a falsely polite and saccharine voice. "God is going to be waiting for you."

The longer Crowley held tightly to Aziraphale, and the longer Aziraphale stayed quiet, the more irate Metatron got. They had been standing like that for nearly fifteen minutes. Metatron was impatient and getting violent. It started to do things to separate the two. Crowley let out a scream of rage and pain as the first projectile narrowly missed hitting Aziraphale. They spread their wings, wrapping it completely around their Angel.

The projectiles and various other destructive items flew past them both, some hitting Crowley. They gritted their teeth and did not make even one sound to indicate the amount of pain they were in. There were some burn marks and parts where their skin was steaming with a small bit missing from salt and holy water hitting them with the projectiles.

A figure no one had seen before appeared. No one but Metatron, that is. "Shame on you, Metatron! This is not what I told you to do! I did not create Aziraphale for the purpose of abandoning who he loves, or for being head archangel. You are now sentenced to the seventh circle of hell for the rest of eternity with no chance to get out," she fumed. Her voice was a normal volume, but so powerful it seemed to resonate everywhere. May whoever crossed her be pitied, for no one went against the will of God herself when it came to her Angel and Demon.

The moment God appeared, the attack stopped. And as soon as she finished berating and punishing Metatron which happened faster than the pair could comprehend, Crowley felt a hand on their shoulder. They jumped.

"It's alright, Crowley. I'm not here to hurt you," she reassured them. "Let me heal you? Metatron did quite a lot of damage..."

As soon as Aziraphale heard that, he got really worried. "Oh, Crowley-" He brushed his thumb over a salt burn, causing the demon to hiss in pain. "I'm so sorry, my dear, I never wanted you to get hurt..."

"Angel, I'd protect you no matter what. No matter the cost to my life, or my heart."

Aziraphale's face reddened in shame. That last comment stung, but he knew Crowley was right - the demon always had protected him, no matter the cost to themself, and now they were paying a hefty price. And not just physically. There was only one thing to do - he had to repair the damage he had caused and hope that Crowley would at least forgive him, even if they couldn't be together anymore.

"Crowley, I-"

"Angel-" Crowley cupped Aziraphale's cheek as God continued to heal the broken demon. "You don't have to apologize. I understand. The call of Heaven is too strong and I'm not enough to keep you here. It's okay, I understand." They dropped their hand from Aziraphale's face.

The angel caught Crowley's hand in his own. "No, Crowley. You deserve an explanation. Perhaps you could forgive me after I explain, but if not, I will live with that and accept it."

He took a calming breath and squeezed Crowley's hand gently, and when Crowley held tight, he took it as a good sign. "What happened was-"

*flashback to the conversation between Metatron and Aziraphale*

Metatron stared at Aziraphale. "So, Mr. Fell, here is what is going to happen. You are going to come back to Heaven with me, and serve as a proper angel."

Aziraphale stared back. "But my shop- I can't leave it! And Crowley - what about them? I can't just up and leave Crowley, they'd never come to Heaven with me! Besides, why would I leave them, when they're the most important person I know, and they are what's most precious to me!" Aziraphale's words hung in the air for a few moments before Metatron spoke again.

"Aziraphale, Aziraphale, always the fool with the biggest heart. See, that's going to be your downfall. In fact, I'd already say that you began your own downfall by telling me what you value most. Which means I have leverage over you. So. You can either come back to Heaven with me and serve as a proper angel, or I will erase both you and your "precious" demon from the Book of Life. Which means that neither of you would have existed. Could you do that to them? To your "precious" Crowley? Could you hurt them like that? Would you throw away six thousand years together to have never existed just to avoid going back to Heaven?"

Aziraphale was shocked and contemplated Metatron's words. "Fine, I'll do it. I'll come back to Heaven. But you better not harm Crowley, or nowhere in Heaven, Hell, or Earth will be safe from my wrath. I guarded the East gate to Eden. And I am knows as her strongest soldier, not for nothing."

*return to present*

Crowley was silent. God had retreated now that Crowley was healed.

They looked at their angel, and then pulled Aziraphale as close as possible, wrapping their arms and wings around him.

Aziraphale was not expecting this reaction from the demon, but he held tight to them. It was then that he let his tears fall.

"I'm so sorry, Crowley-"

"Shh, Angel, it's okay. You were forced to make a choice that you never should have." The pressed a soft kiss to his hair, running a soothing hand up and down Aziraphale's back. "It's okay, Angel."

Crowley continued to hold Aziraphale like that, until his tears stopped, and the angel stood up straight again.

"Crowley?"

"Yes, Angel?"

"You were always enough for me." Before Crowley could speak, Aziraphale kissed them softly. He kissed them long enough that they could pull away, or kiss back and feel the emotions he was putting into the kiss.

"Ngk-" said Crowley. They were taken by surprise. But as soon as their brain caught up, they cupped Aziraphale's cheek once more, and returned the kiss.

Aziraphale pulled back for a moment, and whispered against Crowley's lips. "I love you."

"I love you, Angel," they whispered back, kissing him deeply this time.

[stormyoceans]

Sleepover ask -

PuenTalay headcanon, at Properly Old. Not forties, not fifties. But like... 70+.

😘 go!

DIDN'T EXACTLY PLAN TO CRY MY HEART OUT ON THIS FINE FRIDAY NIGHT BUT NO YEAH I CAN DO THAT SURE WHY NOT IT'S GOOD IT'S FINE IM FINE IM DEFINITELY NOT ALREADY TEARING UP OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT

basically this is the thing im sensitive about. so i took some of the headcanons i already had about this and tried to write them a little bit better, but i feel like they might be..both too specific and yet not specific enough at the same time ;;;;;;; still, i hope they can be at least an interesting read!!!!

SO HERE GOES NOTHING

it feels kinda silly to start with this but. they have matching pill organizers: blue for talay, pink for puen;

talay has diabetes and high blood pressure (too many sweets), puen has arthritis;

talay also has to go back wearing glasses because of presbyopia, while puen somehow still manages to have better eyesight than him;

don't ask me why, but i always loved the idea of puen eventually starting a garden in their yard (i blame the pink trumpet tree and the lotuses) and now not even his aching bones can keep him away from his veggies and his flowers;

when they were younger, puen was always the one getting up late and trying to keep talay in bed, but as they grew older their habits somehow switched: puen would usually wake up at dawn, and after staring at talay snugged closely against him and marveling at how their bodies still fit together perfectly after all those years (soft paunches and weary muscles and fine bones and all), he would throw on a dressing gown and slip into a pair of rubber boots to go putter around the garden;

talay would wake up some time later and slowly make breakfast before calling puen back inside to eat together;

when puen's arthritis gets bad, talay gently holds puen's hands in his own and rubs the thin, speckled, slightly gnarled skin with ointment, before pressing a kiss on top of them;

puen still loves to take baths, loves to sink in the hot water with all his creaking joints and let himself relax for a while. talay can't join him in the tub anymore, which is a pity, but he's always there to help puen out, to wrap a towel around him and pat him dry;

despite his worries, puen still has a full head of hair, but it's all gray now. talay has less gray hair but more lines on his face, especially around the eyes (puen loves them);

technically they're both retired, but puen still writes from time to time, especially children's books, and talay has learned he actually enjoys painting quite a lot (and even sold a couple of his works);

im fully convinced they would adopt a kid some time after the our skyy's events, but by now the kid would have grown up and started their own family, and while of course they're very close and puentalay are wonderful grandparents (or even great grandparents!!!!!!), not long after their kid went to college, puen started to brought in stray cats and never really stopped after that (talay did try to stop it the very first time, but it's hard to say no to puen, especially when he's holding a tiny kitten he just saved from the streets) [also no matter how many cats they had throughout the years, they all somehow fell in love with talay. talay always jokes that it's because puen is a cat himself];

one morning, talay gets out on the porch to call puen for breakfast and suddenly he can't speak. there’s a painful buzzing in his head and a strange sagging feeling on his face, and when he tries to call puen's name his mouth doesn't cooperate. somewhere in the distance, their new stray, a tabby who loves to follow puen around in the garden, is meowing almost desperately. the last thing talay remembers is puen's pale face and puen's arms wrapped around him;

talay's had a very mild stroke, but thankfully there was no damage. with some rehabilitation and some adjustments of his meds, he is back walking and talking and cooking and painting like before. puen gets stricter with their diet tho, and he insists they go for a walk every day. in the past, he had sometimes joked around pretending to feel sick or to forget about stuff just to tease talay. now, he doesn't find it funny anymore. they aren't able to talk about their fears, but they don't need to speak out loud to understand each other. some nights they just spend hours kissing, slow and purposeful and certain, focusing on what makes them alive: the cadence of their breaths, the tremble of their bellies, the clutch of their fingers;

they don't really talk much about the alternate universe anymore, not because they don't remember it or no longer think about the people they met there, but because they've built a life and a family in their own, and they like to believe that so did everyone on the other side too. sometimes tho, when it's late and they're lying in bed together, fingers entwined and foreheads touching, talay would asks "in our next life, do you think we’ll find each other again?”, and every single time puen would whisper fiercely, holding talay so tightly it almost hurt, "i found you across universes, i'll find you across lives too";

there was a time when they both thought they would spend the rest of their lives alone. then, they found each others

[ilidaeandquill]

Narinder and Leshy (Discarded Fanfic Scene)

It’s… cold.

“No! This has got to be a load of gibberish –“

It’s cold. It’s dark. It’s cold.

“– Oi! Nari! Nari! Look at this!”

Narinder dwells in the smooth lull around him. It’s getting warmer.

Narinder flips the page from the book on his lap. Winter is in full swing, which means Shamura has all the fireplaces and torches in their Temple going. The one in their private study is always the warmest. Narinder sits before it, lounging on a long, plush chair, reading an old study his eldest sibling recommended to him ages ago. His Red Crown rests in its snake form. It curls on his shoulders and burrows itself into the warmth of his clothes and fur. It’s quiet here. Peaceful.

Or, it was, until Leshy burst through the door and raced right up-

Something large and fuzzed thuds into Narinder’s back, stealing the wind from his lungs.

When he breathes again, it’s frigid. It calls him. He wants to sink into it.

They topple forward and crash on the stone floor together. The Red Crown flies up to avoid the damage.

Narinder, now burrowed under Leshy’s wriggling body (it grows bigger by the day – seriously, when would this child stop getting so big?) whirled his head up to glare at his brother above. “Leshy! What the hell are you doing?”

If Leshy felt pain, he did not show it. He whipped his head up to face Narinder back, his cheeky grin revealing countless sharp teeth, and laughed his name. “Nari! ‘Knew I’d find you in here!” Still on top of his brother, Leshy reached for something stored in his pocket. He pulled out a small piece of torn parchment and threw it at Narinder. “You rule Death! Read that – tell me if she’s really dead! You’ll know!”

“I hate you,” Narinder scoffed at him but took the paper anyway. Leshy does not move, instead reaching over to hug his brother’s shoulders as he read. His eyes are still so bright.

“… where’d you find this?”

“In Shamura’s dumb library – where else?”

“You transcribed this.”

Leshy squeezed Narinder’s closer, voice ragged and silly in Narinder’s ear. “I did.”

“Your handwriting is abhorrent.”

The squeeze disappears. A harsh smack thuds against the back of Narinder’s head “Don’t pay attention to that! Just read it! I found it on one of those weird tablets Shamura got.”

“This is from that fanatic?”

“… No.”

Narinder let his hand fall against the floor. “Shamura doesn’t want you reading these. They’re heresy.”

“So, it’s not true? And I’m right?”

Narinder read the one sentence on the parchment before he threw it back at Leshy. “It’s true. She’s dead. Or, at least, dead enough to where the seasons do not change.”

“Wha-?!” Leshy tears the paper from Narinder’s hand. He springs up, using one hand to push Narinder’s head further in the water, further in the depths, on the stone floor, and shouts down the hall. “There’s no way! I’m asking Shamura myself!”

Narinder clutched his nose as he stood after his brother. “Sure. Go ahead. Rat yourself out to them after disobeying their orders. So long as you leave me alone.”

He moves to settle back on the couch, but not before Leshy can run up and snatch the book off it. Narinder stared blankly at his brother. “Leshy, give it back.”

“Nope!”

This was getting very annoying, very quickly. “I’m not playing this game with you. Give. It. Back.” Narinder swiped at the book, but Leshy held it higher just in time. He was getting so tall. Seems only a few mere centuries ago, he was no larger than a spry, mortal child. Now look at him.

“Check for me!” Leshy danced on his tiptoes around the room, still holding the book as high as he could, while he whisper-sang his commands at Narinder. “Go to your realm, or summon a ghost, or do some creepy woo-waa stuff – just check!”

“Why?” Narinder kept chasing him around the room. Leshy’s rasped laughter bounced off the walls. “So you can give me my book back? So you’ll stop-“ another swipe, “-annoying me?”

“If that’s what you want-“ Leshy leapt out of the way of his attack, “then you gotta check for me!”

Narinder stopped suddenly. He had gotten himself caught in Leshy’s game without even realizing it. Leshy’s giggling proved that much. Even his crown shared that absurdity. It flew around his head, its green eye closed in bliss, bouncing to mimic a laugh. That laughter used to be so rare, so futile.

“Fine. I’ll check.”

Leshy lowered the book, but his smile only grew. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Narinder moved across the room, gliding up to the mirror that waited in the back. “Now hurry over before I change my mind.”

“Oh! Ok!” Leshy bounded to him, the crown flying right beside him, and crashed on Narinder’s back for another hug. His body was racing in the currents of ice and frost. It clung to Narinder’s fur as stars do to the sky. As annoying as Leshy was, his clingy mannerisms were cute. Sometimes.

Narinder pressed a hand to the mirror. He knew nothing of this goddess, only her name, so retrieving her spirit would be no small task. But he could do it. If Leshy was beside him cheering him on, he could do it.

He closed his eyes and summoned her spirit…

A bell rings, somewhere.

[6-atlas-6]

Curse

(An AU where Lasko and his listener met each other when they were 13)

Warning: mentions abusive parents

Word count: 1075

Lasko slowly blinked opened his eyes, immediately recognizing the familiar feeling of a headache coming on. How long had he been asleep? He looked out the window to see that it was already dark outside. Lasko weakly pushed himself up and slid out of bed. As soon as he stood up he started falling over, having to catch himself on his bed post. How long has it been since he last ate something? It didn't really matter. He rubbed his eyes feeling the dried tears under them. Was he crying? He was. He remembers now.

He had accidentally broken something else with his... Curse. He didn't know what else to call it so he just used the term his mom used. This time it was worse. It was something expensive his father had bought for his mom. She had barged into his room, slamming open the already damaged wooden door. Lasko snapped his head up from the book he was reading. She just started yelling and screaming, snatching the book from him and throwing it across the room. Lasko just stared at the wall blankly trying to tune out the screaming. He didn't know how much time had passed before she was done, telling him that her and his father were going out to dinner before leaving his room.

Great. There was no food left in the fridge. All that was in the pantry was either empty boxes or expired food. Probably why his parents were going out for dinner. Whatever, he didn't feel hungry anyways. He laid down in bed and curled up. He hated the silence. The screaming. The breaking. The doors slamming. The yelling. The fighting. It was all he could hear. He covered his ears with his hands and curled up tighter into a ball. He hadn't even noticed he was sobbing when he finally fell asleep.

Even after his nap it seems his parents weren't back. He thought about falling back asleep to try and combat the hunger but he wasn't tired. It was too quiet. The silence made everything in his head too loud. Maybe he should take a walk. Even if his parents came back home they wouldn't notice he was gone. He stumbled downstairs to the door and walked outside. He didn't have a destination in mind he just wanted peace. Even the sounds of cars and sirens and whatever else was on the streets were more comforting than quiet.

Lasko found the sound of running water comforting. He walked up to a big fountain in the middle of the park he had just stumbled across. It was dark and he only had the faint light of the street lamps, so he didn't notice the other person sitting by the fountain until they spoke and said hello. He snapped his head to the left to look at the person, saying hi back before looking back down at his hands.

"are you okay? It's none of my business but it looks like you were crying." The stranger spoke out of nowhere, startling Lasko. He answered saying he was alright, still staring down at his hands. He was trying to focus on the weird feeling in his stomach. He thought it was just the hunger but it's more than that. It's like he can feel something in himself but he can feel something from this other person at the same time. It felt weird. He didn't like it.

The stranger stared at Lasko for a couple seconds before speaking again. "Do you also have magic?" Lasko was taken aback. He stared at the stranger wide eyed with furrowed brows, stammering trying to come up with words he didn't have. He was scared. Did he accidentally blow something away in front of someone again without noticing? What did they mean by magic?

The stranger noticed Lasko's discomfort and reached into the water. Lasko paused his stammering in curiosity of what they were doing. The stranger pulled their hand out of the water and the water followed their hand. The water formed the shape of a fish in their hand. The stranger held their hand out to Lasko.

"You don't have to be scared. See? I can do it too." The stranger smiled gently. Lasko stared at their palm. It was so beautiful. They kept twisting the water into different shapes, each one more impressive than the last. He couldn't believe it. There was someone like him. Someone his age. Well, it may have been water and not air but it was close enough for him. Lasko smiled.

He had only ever seen magic when he used it himself. He had only ever seen magic as a curse. He had only ever seen magic as something that made him a monster. The thing that caused his silence to turn loud with his mother's screaming. Yet here he was, staring at this random person he had just met. The person that was staring and smiling at him so gently. The person that was holding art made of water in their hands. The calming sound of running water accompanying it.

Lasko didn't know what to do except stare. Stare as this stranger explained what they were doing, how they were controlling their magic. The stranger took his hand, pausing to make sure Lasko didn't want to pull away. Lasko felt the familiar feeling of... "magic" on his fingertips. He was scared. Terrified he was going to hurt this person. The stranger noticed his fear and squeezed his hand tighter, encouraging him to let it out. Lasko felt the feeling grow before he saw the leaves near his hand on the fountain fly up into the air. The leaves carried by the wind forming a heart just over his and the strangers hand.

It was the same thing the stranger was doing but it wasn't water. It was air. It was his magic. It was beautiful. Lasko only smiled at the stranger, beaming with joy. The stranger laughed before hugging Lasko. Lasko was startled by the sudden movement and the leaves fell, right on top of their heads. They both laughed as they pulled away looking at the leaves now stuck in their hair.

Lasko was laughing. He can't remember the last time he did that. He was laughing. This gentle person was laughing. He was happy and it was his curse that caused it. It was his magic that caused it.

~End~

[da-hybr1d]

Pictured are my Mortal Kombat OCs cause I like writing them.

I have a lot of thoughts for each character, and this is all basically derailing where the current canon goes lol. But my story ultimately starts way into the future, with the occassional flashback from Zizor to Luke and Leia to the outworld civil war and my story's Siren-Outworld War.

It's a lot... but i like it. And i'm always willing to share lol

As pictured and a quick description (extremely brief):

Aragog the Pure Hearted

Prince of outworld with not grandstanding in the imperial courts due to Empress Mileena and Kitana taking most of the responsibilities of leading the Kingdom. After growing with privilege and pride, he was taken to his lowest after he contracted Tarkat. However, being a hybrid between edenian, outworlder, and earthrealmer, his immune system was able to fight back the tarkat disease, albeit scarring him indefinitely. He was abandonned by the imperial family (at the time Empress Sindel and princesses Kitana and Mileena) when he contracted it and was cared for by Baraka. When his immunity was noticed, he began to go back into the world. Where he meet Zizor and is confronted by his privileged life after learning her experiences.

Nadira the Siren

[I made this character cause im extremely annoyed of the lack of creativity of character races in MK. ability to make fantastical creatures, don't spend a lot of time making them...]

Nadira is a former soldier of the siren kingdom that lives in the oceans of outworld. Prideful creatures, and for the longest time did not surface. Only a few did, that being Nobles, Royalty, and high priests. To do so, they used a gem called "Neptune's Tear" that has the appearance of a blue diamond but has magical abilities to allow a siren to breath and walk above water. There is a caste in this society, and Nadira was born towards the bottom of the caste system. she worked her way into the military where she would be the princess's bodyguard, a princess that everyone in the caste system loved. especially those towards the bottom as she actively spoke out against the caste system. The princess would be murdered the blame was pinned on Nadira, however cause of this murder a civil war breaks out. During this civil war, Nadira used the Neptune's tear that the princess gifted her to escape from certain death by a corrupt justice system. She would surface, where she would meet her future husband, Aragog.

Zizor the Incorruptible

Zizor would have been killed by her former Zaterrans due to her ability to shapeshift. Her parents sold the child off when this ability was noticed, not wanting to have the child murdered by their fellow species. Little did they know they sold the child off to slavery in the mines. For 18 years, Zizor resisted. so much so she damaged her own skin enough to develop armored scales in many of her joints. One day she manages to stage an escape and is among the very few that managed to escape with her life. Desperate, hungry, and confused, she began stealing and trying learn about those around her despite still having the mark of a slave on her. Her coincidental with Aragog lead to a massive fight that aragog manage to win, but confused zizor since he did not shun her or threaten her. instead he listened to her. Aragog would take her as a mentee and teach her what he knows. Zizor grows an interest in books, especially grimoirs and other books of magic and soon becomes a mage herself. When Aragog and Nadira have their children, Zizor acts a babysitter, and soon a step mother when Aragog and Nadira are murdered.

Luke the Barbarian and Deadshot Leia

Luke and Leia were born towards the end of the siren-outworld war, and were 5 years old when their parents were both murdered in cold blood. Due to being the children of the hybrids, and being the only types of hybrids to exist of their blood at that moment, a high bounty is placed on their heads to instigate another war. Zizor cared for the children and taught them to fight with their respective weapons. Luke fights with an Axe, Leia with a bow and arrow.

Like i said this is all extremely brief. I have a looooooot more to share about these characters but its way too much for one post lol

hope i at least caught your interest?

[echodrops]

The Promises I’m Making (2025)

After the absolute garbage fire that was my life in 2024, I'm kind of just sitting here like... "What do?" What do I even try to focus on for 2025? Will the promises I make right now even be relevant in two months' time, given how many plot twists my life has become prone to?

There's also definitely a correlation between not having money and struggling to come up with resolutions. Why does everything in life cost so much?

Please 2025... let me live in uninteresting times...

2025 Promises

1) Ensure the plumbing repairs in the Utah house are completely finished and the ceiling/floors are restored.

2) Pay back as much of the loan I had to take out as quickly as possible to reduce the monthly payments.

3) Have the AC unit in the Texas house replaced and paint the ceiling where there are water spots from the leaks.

4) Clean up the kitchen area of my Texas house; there is a bunch of kitsch accumulating on the far edge of the counters that I just don't need in a kitchen.

5) Get all the bookshelves/books organized in my Texas house.

6) Clean off my back patio/car port area in the Texas house so I can park my car there again.

7) Call a handyman and have the Texas house bathroom faucets replaced.

8) Clean out the Texas house closets and figure out what to do with all the old boxes like my old computer boxes that I've been cramming in there.

9) Put up a shelf in my room for my figures so that they're not completing clogging up the top of the dresser.

10) Fix the damaged spot on the backyard fence of the Texas house.

11) Clean out all the drawers in my desk/side tables/etc. What is even in there???

12) Take better care of the Texas house lawn, like fighting weeds and trimming the hedge more often.

13) Assemble my new display case and actually successfully organize/display all my plushies. I have... too many plushies...

14) Change the burned-out lightbulbs in the recessed lighting in the Texas house ceiling. It’s like twelve feet high and the lightbulb changer stick I bought didn’t work, so I’m going to have to find someone with a ladder. Save me, handyman. Save me.

15) Help my brother reorganize his furniture in the room he's staying currently; dude has never heard of the concept of maximizing space and it shows.

16) Help my parents tear out the carpet in my old childhood bedroom.

17) Actually use the yoga mat I bought forever and a day ago. This year... for sure...

18) Walk the dog more. Even if the dog herself doesn't like walking when it's hot out lol.

19) Lose at least twenty pounds.

20) Do a complete re-read of Noragami and post some of my closing thoughts on the series.

21) This is super nerdy, but my bro got me the FFXIV cookbook and made me promise to actually use it, so I guess I’d better at least try to make something from it. (Years later, I'm still... trying... lol)

22) Take at least one decent picture of a wild sea turtle.

23) Reach the new level cap with all jobs in FFXIV. I'm late, whoops.

24) Spend less on gacha games and Starbucks. Gotta save money…

25) Close out my old credit union account and call to check in on closing any old credit cards I might still have.

26) Fully deep clean and vacuum/detail my own car at home. No more of the “It doesn’t make sense to clean it out now; the dog is just going to go back in it.” The dog is always going to go back in it. Clean it, Echo.

27) Complete my follow up medical appointments and handle all medical situations in a timely manner.

28) See at least three new species of birds. Doesn’t matter where, just three new ones!

29) Get a new battery in my watch so I can go back to wearing it.

30) Waste less food; I buy things all the time and then don't get to them before they go bad. It's the worst.

31) Make use of the Sam's Club membership my parents bought me for Christmas.

32) Repair the lovely one-of-kind ceramic plate that my dog broke with kintsugi. I want to try it at least once!

33) Block more people. I know this sounds odd but I have a terrible habit of getting into debates when I see bad takes on social media and honestly there's no point in wasting so much time. I gotta block and move on a lot more lol.

34) Put all the small prints, postcards, and stickers I have collected in my new mini-print books. I can even use up washi tape to decorate too. (Finally, a purpose for the washi tape…)

35) Get the situation with the IT systems at work resolved so that all data can be correctly submitted.

36) Apply for online adjunct positions to help make extra money on the side.

37) Make sure my classes are ready to go before each semester, including properly scheduling the announcements and everything.

38) Buy birthday cards in advance for everyone so I have them available to send when birthdays come around.

39) Draw more this year. Maybe I won't have time to fully line and color artworks digitally, but I should at least not let my tiny amount of art ability wither into nothingness...

40) Write and post something... Anything at this rate, please.

41) Build the pretty koi paper lantern my brother got me, or the Korean temple model my coworker gave me after his trip to Korea.

42) Visit the beach more often... Need relaxation...

43) Take better care of my kitty. It's not like I don't take decent care of her, but I definitely put more effort into doing things with the dog than the cat and I think she is big jealous.

44) Go see at least one play. Live theater is good for the soul.

45) See about removing the PMI from at least one of my house loans to try to save money. I’ve been paying on these loans long enough I shouldn’t need PMI anymore.

46) Take a day trip to Santa Cruz Island with Kacchan.

47) Read the book that has been on my "To read" list for the longest time. I don't know which one that is off the top of my head, but I will finally finish one that has been on the list!

48) Try to go to bed earlier more consistently than last year; I really punished myself with terrible sleep over the last few months and its not helping the health situation.

49) Go through my bookshelves to find books to donate, then donate the books to people's little free libraries.

50) I will keep my promises! 

Good luck, 2025’s me!

[fandomficsnstuff]

Witches And Wizards - 24

(Warnings: Some fluff, confused fluff and some more fluff!)

Note: I once read parts of a fic where the reader has magic and goes back in time, meeting Merlin. I sadly can’t find it anymore. Also Fred didn’t die in this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ophelia felt like weights were tied to her eyelids, as though opening them was a tough battle that she felt herself constantly on the verge of losing. She opened her eyes to look around, the pain had lessened, as she knew it would, except a small blanket was over her leg to keep her damaged leg warm, even though she was in front of a fire. On the large table stood a plate with different kinds of food and a goblet of pumpkin juice, a pillow was under her head and her skin didn’t feel as sticky as she remembered it to be before the sleeping draught helped and she passed out. She lifted her eyes as her head felt too heavy to move, looking above the fireplace, frowning at a small picture in a frame that stood on the mantle, placed with care and love, positioned so she could look at it whenever she wanted from wherever in the room. She forced her body to move and she finally managed to convince it to sit up. She groaned quietly at the ache in her body but she stood up anyway, using the fireplace to keep herself steady despite the warmth that made it feel like it was burning her when she stood so close to the flames. She picked up the picture in the frame, letting herself fall back down onto the couch as she looked at it. Her fingers gently ran over the picture in the frame, over the sweet face of her mum, holding her in her lap when she was just a toddler, her grandmother beside her and in the corner of the picture, a carpet with a mark burned into it, stomped out before it could consume the whole thing and turn it into ash. Tears began to form in her eyes and she looked around, her neck feeling stiff and she got out her wand, pointing it at her cane and it flew right at her. She caught it before using it to stand, putting the picture back on top of the fireplace mantle and she walked around the couch, towards the right staircase to the second floor where her bedroom was and she waited once she used the eagle to quickly get up there, her wand out and she used the hand holding it to push the door, which had once been dressing panels but the Room changed it to walls and a door, open ever so slightly, frowning at the figure she saw inside.

She recognised him by the ears immediately. He was watering her Niffler’s Fancy that Professor Slughorn had given her as a welcome gift when she became a teacher at the start of the year, knowing the gift would be well received with love, he remembered her skill at potions but especially how her ingredients were always of the highest quality when she’d grown them herself. She put away her wand and pushed the door more open to study him. Her room was filled with plants while her living room was filled with books, the two of them separated, her bedroom enchanted so it’s ceiling looked like it was made of glass, just like the main Room, except in here green plants were hanging around it as it looked like a greenhouse and she knew by the lack of daylight that it was night, since it cycled depending on what time it was outside, just like the glass ceiling in the main Room and the windows. She also noticed that her Alihosty had another one standing next to it. In fact, some of her plants had an identical one standing next to it, only more trimmed and not as well kept. “Are you planting your own plants in my room, Professor Emrys?” she asked calmly, a small smirk forming on her lips as he jumped at her voice, spinning around, looking like a Niffler that had been caught going through the jewelry box. “N-No, they’re-... they’re not mine” he admitted and she frowned, her smirk growing a little “so you’ll have me take care of a stranger’s plants, then?” she asked and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, the other still holding the bottle that held water in it for the plants. “No…”

“So they’re not yours and they’re not someone else’s?”

“Right.”

“Are you giving them to me?”

“More like returning” he admitted, much more at ease now as he put the bottle back on the small ceramic plate made for it on a small shelf. Ophelia frowned as he walked closer, a brief chuckle leaving her “returned? These aren’t my plants…”

“They are… I-I’ve tried to keep them proper, you know, like you did. You know, trimming them and such…” he admitted and Ophelia walked over to one of the ‘new’ plants, reaching for it, examining it with a frown “I don’t know what you’ve been drinking, Merlin, but these aren’t mine. These leaves should be trimmed diagonally, not like this” she offered the insight quietly and softly, making Merlin smile at her fondly “I’ll remember that next time if you disappear on me again” he mumbled to himself with a smirk, studying her as she turned around to frown at her “what in the name of Merl-... what are you talking about?” she corrected herself, Merlin smiling briefly before walking out of the bedroom, returning with a bag that made Ophelia’s eyes widen. In his hands were the bag she always had with her. It was a little damaged and looked like it was centuries old but it had been patched up and kept as intact as humanly and inhumanly possible. “That’s-... h-how-... Merlin’s Beard!!” she nearly yelled in shock as she walked towards him, her eyes on the bag and Merlin grinned. “You’ve got to stop saying that” he stated with amusement and her head snapped up to look at him. Her heart raced for some reason at that sentence. She studied him before frowning, looking away from him with a look of confusion borderlining on fear on her face. “I think I’d like to be alone, for now, Professor Emrys” she muttered hesitantly, as though no longer trusting herself… or him.

The possibility that she didn’t trust him made his heart ache and shatter, his smile and all signs of joy were gone and he put the bag down on a chair in the corner of the bedroom. “R-Right! Yeah, sorry I just-”

“No, no I didn’t mean it like that! I just-” she sighed with a frown, continuing to keep her gaze away from him and his heart mended a little at her words “I just… m-my leg, it pains me and I’d like to be alone when this happens” she lied smoothly, Merlin nodding despite the fact that he knew it was a lie. “I didn’t mean to-... I didn’t-”

“It’s alright, Merlin” she stated softly with a very faint smile, barely noticeable, like the tears in her eyes, but he noticed. He nodded and turned around, leaving the living quarters and the second the door shut she let out a shaky breath, eyes closing, a few tears running down her cheeks when she did. Her eyes returned to the bag and she carefully hobbled over, hesitantly picking it up. It was old. Far older than she remembered. Perhaps it was a copy? She opened it, sitting down in the chair Merlin had placed it in, staring into the abyss of the bag and hesitantly, very hesitantly, she stuck her arm into it, looking away when her arm began to obscure her view into the bag, fumbling her hand around as it brushed up against several things until-

She pulled out a large book that she recognised, tears once again forming in her eyes and she hesitantly let her fingers run over the old picture of her, Hermione, Harry and Ron, a faint smile on her lips as she opened the book. The picture that usually was the first to be seen was gone and she smiled, remembering it’s place on the fireplace mantle. She continued through the book, smiling sadly at each picture, having missed them more than she thought was possible. At the very end was a picture she didn’t recognise. At least she thought she didn’t. It wasn’t of anyone she’d ever met before. It was faded and not as well taken as the other pictures, but it was still obvious that one of the people waving back at her was Ophelia. With a healthy leg. She was smiling like she hadn’t done before the war, in a way that was lost to her. At least that’s what she thought.

Next to her stood an old man, her brows furrowing, her fingers grazing over the picture as it moved, smiling up at her and she felt the same sense of comfort as when Merlin talked about the person who had supposedly taught him all he knew. She thought she’d have trouble remembering the name but it was like it was carved into the deepest walls of her memories.

Gaius.

The man in the picture, smiling and waving at her, was Gaius. For some reason, it made sense. Looking at him, smiling up at her, it felt a bit like seeing someone dearly loved after years apart… she felt the same sense of comfort as her mum, her grandmother, her uncle… Molly Weasley… the same comfort they provided

Gaius’ clothes in the picture, and the surrounding furniture and bottles and books, felt familiar to her, like a home away from home. She couldn’t help but smile a little, tears nearly running down her cheeks and onto the picture and she had to put the book away to wipe away the tears so they wouldn’t ruin anything. She sniffled a little before picking the book back up, wiping her nose a little as she carefully slid out the picture. She studied it with a warm smile before instinctually, for no real reason that she knew of, flipped it around, as though she knew something was on the back of it. And she was right. A small, faded, smudged out message, wishing someone a happy birthday, the name long since smudged and faded, unreadable, but it somehow made her smile even more, faded two and a half hearts were left after the name that was smudged out, the handwriting was so old and smudged that she couldn’t see if she recognized it or not, yet she had a feeling that she did, for some strange reason that she’d forgotten about. It was obvious that the picture hadn’t always been in the book, it was a new addition from what she remembered of the book before she lost it. It’s corners were faded and bent back and forth, a tiny hole in the left lower side of the picture, some of it torn out but overall, aside from how old it looked and felt against the pads of her fingers, the paper on the back almost yellow, it was well taken care of. Treasured by whoever had placed it in the book after years and years of carrying it around. Carefully she slid the picture back into the small holding frame, a smile on her lips as she carefully closed the book, hearing it’s cracked spine creak a little as she did and she smiled, placing it on a nearby table, making sure it was safe where it was, unaware of the added pictures past the page of Ophelia and the stranger, Gaius, waving up at her and seemingly having a bit of fun with each other.

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

Merlin was quiet as he walked into the office near the greenhouse classrooms, looking around at the plants, big and small, harmless and poisonous, some harvested ingredients standing proudly in massive amounts, ready to be given to Professor Slughorn to be used in whatever way he deemed fit. At the end of the room was a large round table, a chair behind it and a woman sat in the chair, something in front of her, which he’d come to learn is called a ‘newspaper’. She had flipped through almost the entire thing, a pencil in her hand, the end of it against her lips, teeth biting down around the end as she held the pencil, brows furrowed as she stared at the page, her cane resting against the table, next to her. He hadn’t ever really gotten a good look at her cane. It had a silver wolf’s head for a handle, the cane itself a dark navy blue, the end of it fitted with a small flat footing of something soft that without a doubt helped keep the cane steady when weight was put on it, since the cane slipping at such a moment wouldn’t be ideal.

“Of course! ‘Butterfly’. God, I’m stupid… and blind” she half-joked to herself and scribbled something on the paper in front of her, smirking as she began to scribble some more before frowning again, muttering under her breath as she grabbed her wand and pointed it at something in the paper before picking her pencil back up again, shaking her head a little “fuck” she muttered and Merlin couldn’t help but smile a little. He remembered when they broke into Camelot after Morgana took over and took Uther as prisoner. They had just gotten into the room with the Cup of Life when that word was uttered by her upon seeing the several undead soldiers standing between them and the Cup. “Professor Black? What are you doing?” he asked softly but she still flinched, her cheeks filling with heat and she cleared her throat awkwardly “Professor Emrys! I-... uh… it’s-... nothing…”

“Is that the Daily Prophet?”

“No, actually, it’s-... a-a muggle newspaper…”

“Muggle? Interesting” he muttered and walked over, Ophelia sighing heavily, leaning back in her chair, gesturing to the newspaper with a certain aggression that Merlin found extremely cute “I have a friend who bought me this because I wanted to learn how to do anagrams… except I’m horrible at it” she admitted with burning cheeks, Merlin smiling a little at her as he stood beside her, leaning down to study it “you’ve done really well. I don’t know why you think you’re not good at it” he encouraged but she groaned “no! I’m horrible… I don’t know half of these muggle words… I didn’t grow up with muggles after I turned eleven and even then I barely went to school… I was bullied so much I skipped and missed classes so I don’t know anything…”

“I’d say you know a lot judging by this. Perhaps you know more than you think… if you’d like, I could help you? I grew up around muggles quite a lot…” he admitted sheepishly and she looked at him like he was sent from God “would you? Please” she encouraged and he smiled, pointing her wand at a chair from the side of the room, pulling the chair over next to her and with a swift wave of her wand, Ophelia made another pencil, giving it to him with a shy smile. “Do you know what an anagram is?” she asked and he hesitated before shaking his head a little, making her chuckle “it’s alright, I didn’t either. Of course Hermione knows, she knows pretty much everything” Ophelia muttered the last part to herself “alright so, it’s about taking these words and sort of making a new word out of it, but it has to be a real word. Like… it’s easy to start at the ones with only two letters. So, let’s say you see one with two letters and it spells ‘NO’, that makes it ‘ON’, see? And you continue to do that, it’s why it’s easier to start with the ones that have only two letters. The letters have to match up, you can’t write an A if the words it’ll cross with doesn’t have an A in it where you want to put it, and you can’t just make up your own words. Now, this large picture here? The sentence in it? It’s sort of the final word you have to get from it’s letters and it’s usually insanely long or something like that. Also, even though the words you have to work with have spaces in between, no spaces! It has to be one word, all of it. Did I explain it right?” she asked hesitantly and Merlin nodded with a smile “I think so” he stated softly as he looked at her and she grinned, his heart melting at the sight and she leaned over the paper once more, studying it, thinking Merlin was doing the same but he couldn’t help but just-... looking at her…

After centuries with only a fading picture, he was like an addict, finally getting his fix, his chance to admire her with the utmost devotion that she deserved. “I think… I-I think this is supposed to spell ‘bicycle’... right? See, the C would fit there and the L would fit under this, right?” she asked, looking up at him and he quickly pretended to just have lifted his head to look at her, instead of having admired her all this time and he looked at the paper, nodding, “see? You don’t need my help-”

“Hold your brooms, Merlin, I’m far from done yet” she quickly said with a laugh before looking back down at the paper “there’s still a lot of words here… imagine if the wizarding world made these. I’m not saying I’m a master of every single thing in our world but it’d be much easier to decipher…” she added in a more quiet voice, brows furrowing again and he once again admired her, the paper and anagram long forgotten in his mind, everything was blank except her… she was just as beautiful as he remembered, every small detail, the curve of her nose, her nose bridge that he knew she secretly hated for being ‘too bulky’ when it was nothing short of perfect. He was sitting on her left so he could see her blue eye, just as enchanting as he remembered it and he found that after all these years, that picture didn’t do her justice, especially since it was in black and white and grey. Nothing could do her justice. Nothing except sitting here with her, in the classroom office that was empty except for the two of them, sitting close together with Ophelia hunched over the paper, gnawing at the end of her pencil whenever a certain word vexed her. This moment right here made all the centuries of wait and worry worth it.

[notatrott]

“Drive faster you fucking idiot, they are trying to kill us!” 

   Why did I get in the driver's side? I have never driven before and I don't think the panic I'm feeling is helping. Leon is right though, somehow they are gaining on us on foot. 

“Instead of stating the obvious, why don't you guide me?” I am having trouble focusing on the road with all of this adrenaline and my dog barking in the bed of the truck. 

    As I drive I can see familiar parts of the town, toppled and burning. Under other circumstances I'd be saddened by this but my mind can't even begin to process what has happened here. I can only wonder if anyone I know survived this massacre.

    “Turn left up ahead,” Leon yells “I think we can make it to Abner's with enough distance to get to safety.” 

    That sounds like a great plan right now. Abner was a doomsday prepper, that loon definitely has a bunker, he might even have guns we can take, not that they would be much help.

   “Char, when we pull up to his place it's up to you to grab the dog. I will have to run in and find the door for us. Do you understand?” 

   “Yes, I got it. How is your arm?”

   “Don't worry about my arm, just focus on getting there.”

    Leon is always like this. When Dad died, he wouldn't be honest with me on how he felt. They spent twenty years together but I didn't see him shed a single tear. He isn't emotionless, I've seen him cry during mildly sad parts of kids movies. I just don't know how you could love someone like that and not be visibly upset for even a moment after their passing. 

   “Pull in to the right, get ready to jump out.”

    Blaze has stopped barking now, that must mean those things are far enough away.

  “Blaze, let's go boy. Up up.”

   Leon has already busted through the door, it looks like he kicked it. 

   “Found it! Back here Charlotte, in the living room, through the bookcase!”

   Running through this place, it doesn't look like it's been targeted. Everything in here is intact. The walls look scratched up, but no structural damage or signs that it caught fire. 

   “C’mon Blaze, go get Leon.”

   The bookcase looks like Abner never once read a book. It definitely was only put in to hide something. This place smells like ocean water.

   Passing the bookshelf I see Leon standing by an open hatch, like that of an old submarine, coming out of the wall. The wheel is rusted all over but the rest of the door looks brand new. The walls of this tiny hall leading to the hatch look like this house was built around a massive boulder and this hatch leads into it. Who the hell would build around a fucking rock? Abner was pretty crazy so I guess it's not worth it to question. 

   Blaze jumps through the hatch into darkness as Leon is waving at me to run in. There aren't any steps up to the door and it's at shoulder height. I can hear things outside getting close. I better jump in quickly. I sprint as fast as possible and dive through the opening and I hear the door shut behind me and hear the wheel turning. 

“LEON!!!!!! NO, LEON!!!!!!!” 

  I hear muffled screaming and then silence. They got him. They fucking got him. Why didn't he jump in? Why did he leave me? I can't do this. I panic when my shoe gets untied. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY? WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE.

  I seem to have passed out at some point while hyperventilating. I can't see anything at all down here, but I can hear Blaze panting in front of me as he slowly walks forward. The hatch has no way to open from the inside that I can find. 

   “Blaze, get back here” I whisper. He isn't listening though. Typical stubborn mastiff.

I don't have any options though. I will follow him. Even if there were lights down here I don't think I would be able to see. It feels like my eyes are swollen shut from my tears. 

 After what seems like hours, Blaze has led me to what I think is a door with a window just above my eye line. There isn't enough light coming through for me to see where I currently am. Blaze is quietly whining and pawing at the base of the door. Now on my tiptoes looking through the small window. “What the fuck?” It's the basement from the house we were attacked at. “H-h-how could…. This doesn't make…..”

   I hear someone

“Charlotte, get Blaze and get down here quick.” Is that Leon? How? “Here are the keys, you are driving”  

   Hold on, this already happened. What is going on?

  “But I've never driven before. What are you doing? "

"I can't drive with these injuries, I'll tell you how to do everything. We have to go now though, through the bulkhead door.” 

   The door isn't opening. I'm pulling the handle and it won't budge.

   “LEON! LEON WAIT! THEY ARE GOING TO GET YOU! LEON!” I scream and scream but they don't seem to hear me “PLEASE, LEON! YOU NEED TO LIVE!” 

   Leon and me? They both leave, exactly how we did earlier. A head is peeking out from the inside door. A pale white face with an unnatural smile of black teeth starts scanning the area. Are those what we're chasing us? It starts to move into the basement but I can see its body. It's neck is, how is it that long? It is extending its neck all the way down the stairs and is looking around. I start to duck down so it doesn't see. Wait, it sees the open bulkhead door. Its neck is retracting back up the stairs fast. Three of them sprint down the stairs like gorillas and charge out of the basement. 

“Ahh” I tumble forward as the door now flies open.

What the fuck is going on?

I don't write, this is probably shit