#wardrobe / i have a blue house with a blue window. blue is the color of all that i wear.

[vacanpathy]

td

answered / ic. starters / ic. open  / ic. headcanons / ooc. meta / ooc.

musings / she held the charm to her face and reflected in the charm was a city of lost horizons and tall and towering stories. ch. study / who in the world am I? ah, that's the great puzzle. face / the automaton. likes / too selfish to ever be a good person. aesthetic /  your head will collapse but there’s nothing in it.

raunchy / alexa play careless whisper.

fears / memories and possibilities are ever more hideous than realities.

mannerisms / she moves like she has something to hide.

ship inspo / who doesn’t wanna date me? wardrobe / i have a blue house with a blue window. blue is the color of all that i wear.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Kitties as wild as nature

The jabberwock ghouls as cats

Wc: ~700

Notes: I have been thinking, would Lyca also be a cat or should he be a puppy?

Haru

He is a red Abyssinian cat with an almost strikingly unnatural bright colour.

He has a darker colored leg that he doesn't put too much weight on and he seems to react nicely when you massage it slowly.

He has a favorite toy that you got him when he was a kitten in your first shopping spree with him, a small bunny-like creature that you named ‘peekaboo’.

He is so insistent on being outside as soon as you allow him to go as late as allowed, running around and around chasing leaves and bugs and bringing his little friend along. If he doesn't get his 3 hours minimum of outside time he acts so nervously pacing around the house.

Cares so much about little creatures like his peekaboo and any other stuffie that he can carry on his mouth that he adopted baby Ren the same day he came, always licking him clean and dragging him around to show him some bug in the backyard.

Even though cats sleep more than twelve hours he is always zooming around rearranging leaves, herding groups of similar cat toys that he makes Towa ‘supervise’ or dragging Ren back out after he escaped and hid under the sofa. All of this he does always accompanied by his favorite baby, peekaboo.

At night for being such a responsible kitty cat and taking care of the house he gets a tiny cup of catnip tea to relax a bit before sleeping.

Towa

Given he was a stray you doubt he is truly any race of cat but he looks a lot like a ragdoll cat, his hair fully white and some beautiful blue eyes (they almost look lilac under the sunlight)

He was originally a stray but for some reason soon after Haru came he started hanging around your house enough for you to say he is yours.

He is either hanging around Haru or fucking around God knows where, it isn't strange for him to disappear.

The quietest cat ever?? You have never seen him meow when serving food or playing, even then he does make himself known, rubbing himself on you and purring a ton. You do think he might be who meows horribly loud at night but whenever you check there is nobody there.

He seems to like eating flowers better than his kibble or wet food. Even you asked the vet and she ran tests the best she could give you was ‘he probably just likes the taste, I wouldn't worry too much about it’

He is quite a cuddly cat with both you and Haru, but for some reason he detests the little kitten, striking him whenever Haru isn't looking or dragging him away from your lap to lay in his place.

Sometimes whenever Haru licks Ren he might start licking him and it's like a little grooming ball

Ren

An exotic shorthair kitten that was too disobedient his owner considered him untrainable and gave him to you.

The only one of the bunch who doesn't look out the window, doesn't want to go out, will not even step on a blade of grass. At least on his own volition, he doesn't have much choice when Haru drags him to watch a caterpillar.

The baby snuggles up to you under your blankets, plushies and pillows as he purrs softly between your legs.

Please buy him one of those cat beds that look like a shark, he loves watching marine biology documentals from there

Whenever you use electronics like TV or tablets he will be hanging by your shoulder and might paw at it like the fruit ninja cat. That is the closest thing to playing he does.

Maybe he absorbs Haru's need of sleep because he is always sleeping or dozing off under the sunlight, even the vet was worried but it seems he is just really lazy

Unluckily, Haru can slip under the wardrobe and your bed so he is never safe. He even has a knack for knowing when he is relaxed enough to take him off guard and strike giving him to fighting chance

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

EIGHT

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: This chapter can be triggering!

I wanted to stand close to Eric and let all the feelings out against his shoulder, but Odin, that stupid dog, destroyed it. Suddenly he had woken up from his bed and realized there was a big bird sitting in the open window, on his favorite person's knee, and he barked loudly. Crow jumped, and with an irritated caw, he flew away and left just the scratch marks on Eric's knee behind.

Eric quickly let go of me to give Odin a look.

“Go to bed.”

He didn't sound irritated or shouted like Robin usually did; he sounded more cold and authoritarian. Odin dropped his ears, and with a low head, he walked to his bed. I had never seen him act like that and I stared in astonishment. Eric really was something else.

“I'm sorry, honey… I just needed to,” he excused himself, like it was his dog who had barked. He stood up and hugged me close so I could lay against his safe chest. I looked up at him after a minute and dried my cheeks again.

“Can't you tell me more about you? You know almost my whole family tree.”

It was true. Eric had a big interest in knowing all kinds of things about me but succeeded in making it all about me instead of letting me know anything about him. He looked away for a few seconds but then looked down at me and nodded.

“Yeah… Yeah.” He continued to nod but swallowed hard. I could see it was hard for him to visit old memories, but it would be good for him to talk about it all, to see it for what it is, and not go around with anxiety the whole time.

×××

In his wardrobe, among trashed t-shirts and classic sneakers, he took out an old Converse shoe box. It looked like it had stayed with him for a while, and when I saw the shoe size text on the side of the box, I understood it must be really old or someone else's. It must have been a while since he wore size 7.

Eric sat down next to me in bed; he was in just black boxers, and I was dressed in the purple t-shirt he wore the day before. Both of us looked at the box like it was something mythical, and after he had dragged his hands over it a couple of times, he opened it. It was mostly photos in it, some birthday cards but also a toy car, an action figure I didn't know the name of, and a little Asian figurine—a man with a sword.

“So… This is my childhood.” He said it silly, like it was a joke, but I understood he did that just to cover up the other feelings. I dragged my hand over his forearm and laid my hands over his that lay in a fist with the other one in his lap, where he sat in a lotus position.

“Can I look?” I asked carefully.

“Yeah, it's nothing, nothing special,” he said with a shoulder shrug and looked away. I knew he just said that because he was awkward; both he and I knew his childhood had not been like mine.

“That's the very first picture of me. That I know of,” he said with a small smile and pointed at the picture in my hand. It was a big eyed little boy in a sweatshirt set. It looked really 90s in a washed-out green color. He stood in the middle of a living room, next to a brown leather couch and also a baby walker in light blue.

“It's… It's at my foster parents’ house. I couldn't walk yet when I came to them, so… So… So they started to teach me that.”

I crawled closer to him and looked at him with big eyes. I wanted him to feel safe with me, and when he looked at me with glassy eyes, I knew he felt that. I kissed his cheek and lips, and he breathed deeply before continuing to talk.

“I hadn't learned to say anything either, so they taught me that too. No one really knows why I was so late with everything because my biological mom, Linda, never said anything about it. I just know what Lotti and Eric, my foster parents, have told me. I was healthy and so on, or I weighed too little, but nothing that serious ehm…”

“But why did you have foster parents?” I asked carefully. It felt weird that I already knew so much but was forced to pretend. If I didn't… I didn't even want to think about what would happen if he found out that I already knew some of his history.

“Linda, my biological mother, did a few months in prison for dealing drugs, so I moved to Lotti and Eric and then continued to visit them until I was nine, and I moved there and visited Linda instead. I don't really know why it happened then,” he shrugged his shoulders. “It was a fucking hell living with her for all those years, but no one cared. More than Lotti and Eric then or… Mom and Dad, like I started to call them…”

“You can call them that; if you see them as your parents, you should call them that.”

Eric shook his head and started to look through the photos by himself until he found a picture of him with them, but also Robin. They stood outside of the house together with the parents behind the kids. It looked really arranged, and both the boys had white button-ups and black pants. It looked like they were maybe six and eight years old.

“I don't have the right to call them that anymore. This is from Eric's brother Albert's wedding, or before we went there. It was a neighbor who took the picture.” It was obvious he spoke quickly so he didn't need to talk about why he didn't call them his parents anymore, but I had my guess.

“That's Robin, their real son. Ehm…” He laughed a little and looked closer at Robin's big smile in the picture while he himself looked terrified, holding his father's hand close to his face. “He was… We had fun when we were kids. He really took care of me, but… I don't know, something changed, and I guess he wanted his parents for himself.” He said it with a shoulder shrug like it was a natural thing, even the most natural thing, like he maybe didn't have anything to do there.

“I was trash. Or was,” he laughed sarcastically and rubbed his eye. “I guess he started to get what I was. I was an addict's son. I was a prostitute's son… I came home to them smelling like filth and had bruises from my mom's Johns and ate so much I puked on their floor…” Eric looked down at the pictures he had spread out in front of him. It looked like normal family pictures, just that he was too thin when he was little, and when he got older, he had visible bruises on his limbs. I sat and looked at the pictures too, so when Eric suddenly sobbed, it came as a surprise. He bent his face into his hands and cried silently, but his shoulders bobbed. I dragged him close to me with my heart beating heavy in my chest. Fucking Robin. Fucking stupid Robin, who thought he was a victim. Who thought he got too little love?

I hushed Eric soothingly and dragged my hands through his hair until he had calmed down. He looked at me with red eyes and wiped his nose against the back of his hand.

“I get that he hated me because his parents were so nice to me… And, and I didn't deserve it because… I wasn't one of them. I'm still not one of them. I'm…” he looked at me and smiled a little. “I am white trash, a junkie, filth, and… just.. A load for everyone… Why are you even here?” He said the last sentence like it was a joke, with his tears streaming. I looked at the beautiful, kind, sensitive man in front of me and kissed his face over and over.

“Don't talk about yourself like that. You're magic. You're pure fucking magic. You are love,” I said and looked him deep in the eyes. “You're the best man I've ever met.”

×××

We laid close together, making out so deeply it felt like I was on my way to crawl inside of him. If I could, I would have. He really was the best man I've ever met. He cared so much; he listened to everything I said and always wanted to do better. Many men didn't even know what that meant. I wanted him deep inside of me, as deep as he could, and I took off my clothes quite fast, and then I dragged his boxers down too. He let me hold the rail and let me sit down slowly on his hard cock. Even if I was really wet, it was a bit of a struggle, and I made a long, dragged-out sound with both pain and pleasure. He looked at me with big eyes, and they got heavy when I finally had taken so much I could of him.

“Your pretty pussy… Never thought I would get a pussy like yours…” he said and sat up which helped me take even more of him. I could feel him stab my cervix with the head of his cock, but he didn't say anything about my little pained sound; he was used to it.

“Bad boy…” I whispered and took his head between my hands while I started to rock my hips against him. “Bad bad boy…” I moaned loudly while he had started to lift me and lower me a little, assisting me to ride him. Eric nodded a little but looked at me with big tearfilled eyes. He begged for kisses silently, and I kissed him over and over, in the rhythm of my rolling hips.

“Do you love me? Say that you love me,” he said with his softest voice. At the same time, he pushed me backwards so he could hammer his hips much faster. I moaned loudly by his fast, hard movement.

“Say that you love me,” he said with a whinier voice. He laid his hand on my mound, pushed down a bit, and let his thumb find my clit to play with.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, Eric, I love you so so much…” I moaned and leaned back completely, letting the orgasm take over. It was true that I loved him, and I had done that even before I met him, but that I couldn't say to him. “I love you,” I said again before feeling in my toes the orgasm creeping up on me and then exploding in my sex and running through the rest of my body.

×××

As usual, I snuck away from Eric after our lovemaking to refresh and also let his seed drip out from me in a better place than under me in bed. I hoped we could continue to cuddle and talk about him, but when I came out, he stood in the hallway in running gear, and Odin was on a leash around his waist.

“He needs to pee, so we’re going out for a bit; is that okay?” He asked while Odin whined in anticipation.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” I said and walked up to him, close to his body. Eric smiled a little and lifted my chin with two fingers. It was a little sign I could stand up on my toes and get a kiss. We kissed a few times before they left me.

I went back to bed, took the Converse box again, and looked around at the pictures. The most were such ordinary family pictures you could easily miss what the pictures also told you. Little Eric held his parents hands so hard his fingertips became white, Lotti's eyes at him with worry and love. His father Eric’s protectiveness. He carried him even when he was probably a bit too old for it, but he also was quite little and thin, so it wasn't that hard.

I looked at a few pictures of him in his teens. One was a picture of him and Robin, standing in the same place they did in the picture Lotti had on her wall, but in this picture Eric maybe was fourteen and still shorter than Robin. His hair was black and laid down to his shoulders. It looked like he had then cut it in layers with the kitchen scissors. He had smeared black eyeliner around his eyes and dressed in a black hoodie. Robin stood next to him in a light blue polo shirt and a perfect side bang, as the fashion was then. They could have been brothers, but it didn't look like there was much love between them. A wall of air was between them, and neither of them smiled. There was also one more thing that made it obvious their lives weren't like brothers; Robin glowed with health, but Eric had dark rings under his eyes and cracked lips, but also, if you looked closely, you could see a faint bruise on his neck. I knew he was doing martial arts, but something told me this wasn't from that. The look in his eyes said to me things happened in his life then.

There was also a picture of him a few years later. He had stretched out then and had a neon green buzz cut. Next to him stood Lotti, pulling him down in an embrace. Eric was actually laughing in the picture. I dragged my finger over his young, happy face but also the System of a Down t-shirt he wore.

It was obvious he loved his mom Lotti so much, so that he didn't have contact with her today I couldn't understand. He looked like a Mama's boy, and on top of that, he needed so much love because he had been mistreated by others so much.

Eric needed love. I decided to do something special for my man and made myself ready to do some grocery shopping. I would do something really warm and comforting to him. A rich stew that could boil for a long time and make a playful dessert. Just when I was ready to go, Eric and Odin came in through the door, panting heavily. He looked at me a bit surprised where I stood dressed, and with makeup on, he probably expected me to have crawled down in bed again.

“Hey, where are you going? It’s just nine o’clock?”

“I must fix it for dinner tonight,” I said with a little secret smile. Eric looked at me with a broad smile.

“Yeah?” He dried his face with the edge of his t-shirt so I could see his abs. He didn't do it on purpose, but I couldn't stop myself from staring.

“Mm,” I looked up at him, distracted by his body. He nodded a little.

“Do you want help? I just need to shower,” he said in that sweet way he always did. I didn't want to think it, but I did; I could understand why he was Lotti's favorite son.

“I can handle it.”

“Okay, but call otherwise.”

I nodded with a little smile. I walked up to him to touch his lips with mine again and let the scent of his sweat engulf me. I loved his smell, even his sweat, and felt the butterflies in my belly get intoxicated by it. He could drive me crazy without even trying.

×××

“Okay, I need your help!” I said on the phone, panting loudly. It had become far too heavy, with wine bottles and flour and other heavy items. With my bad shoulders, I hadn't succeeded in carrying it for so long.

“Of course, baby. Did you take the regular way?” He said it sweetly, and I could hear him getting ready in the background.

“Yeah, I'm by that Chinese restaurant.”

“Okay, I'm coming as fast as I can.”

Even if Eric could overthink what others thought about him, he could also do things that made people react. His impulses were not always the best, and this time it had made him go out without a shirt. I saw people looking at him when he came walking with long strides. He had a pair of washed-out black Adidas sweatpants and high-top Vans in the same color. His skin was still shiny from sweat, and his hair stood in all directions.

“Where is your shirt?” I said with a smirk while an older lady stared at his badly done tattoos.

“I was working out, and it was too hot to put one on… Didn't expect people would react to it…” He looked around a little anxiously but lowered his eyes to the shopping bags to be able to ignore people's judging eyes.

“Why did you shop so much?”

“I'm going to make a chocolate cake!” I said happily and made him look up at me with a smile.

“You know I don't eat such things,” he said teasingly.

“Mhm, I'm going to force you. You need some chocolate in your life.” He laughed and stood up, moving closer to me so I could press my body against his. I could feel he didn't have any underwear on but that I had registered already; it was hard to hide for him. He kissed me deeply, and just like he usually did, I also forgot the people around us and made out erotically in the middle of the street with him. I touched his sweaty body with deep desire and even thought about being mean by dragging my hand over his crotch.

“Della?” I heard Demi say next to us, and for a moment I thought I had just imagined it until she said my name again. Eric released my lips with a smack, and the both of us looked at my sister and her two daughters instead. Demi just looked at Eric up and down. His clammy skin, the awful tattoos, and his sweaty hair. His sweatpants sat way too low, and the bulge in them was exposed way too much. God. God. Oh god. Why now?

“Hey, hey. I'm, I'm Eric,” he said nervously and put out a hand towards Demi, a hand she didn't take, instead, she looked at me.

“I think we should continue to our brunch with some friends,” she said and looked at me with disappointment in her eyes. Her daughters stared at Eric like he was a part of the circus, and in his discomfort, he scratched the back of his head and at the same time exposed the dark hair in his armpit. Demi gave him a fast look and then a pointed gaze at me. In the corner of my eyes, I could see that Eric noticed her judging eyes, and he lowered his gaze, starting to move around the bags like he searched for the handles. I looked at Demi hurt, but she didn't seem to care.

“We should go now. Bye,” said she and steered her daughters forward.

“Bye…” I said lowly but cared more about my boyfriend at that moment. I didn't even want to think about the awful anxiety my sister must have given him.

We walked in silence home, Eric with a low gaze. I more or less just watched him. I could feel his anxiety scream and knew he now felt everyone else's judging looks too.

“Is it okay if I just take a smoke?” He said when we came in through the door. Odin stood close to him, and Eric caressed his ear lovingly.

“Yeah, of course.”

He took the first best jacket he could find, his long coat, and then jumped out from the window, out to the roof. I knew now he had the roof to a lower part of the building just outside of the window, and he walked out to the edge and sat down with his legs hanging down the ledge of the five-story house. I hated when he did that. It scared me looking at him sitting so close to his death. I wondered if he thought about suicide when he sat there or if he just fantasized about needles. I understood he had done stupid things in life to silence the demon from his past, but by doing that he had new demons. He wanted life to change, but every time he felt mistreated, he took that as a sign he would always be the same guy. I looked at him sitting on the edge, dressed in black, with Crow sitting not far from him. Once again, he looked like something from a dream, and I couldn't stop myself from thinking that maybe there was something strange with him. Odin whined next to me, obviously missing his daddy, and I patted him comfortingly. Eric's anxiety affected us all, and I knew I would do everything to make it go away.

×××

I didn't make a chocolate cake; it wasn't the right moment, but I made my stew, and he ate with appetite, but he was much more quiet. He was still as polite and thanked me for a lovely dinner, but other than that, he seemed to just have his own thoughts as company. I was so angry at Demi and sent her several angry messages about how awful she had treated him, but she didn't even answer. He lay on top of the bed with Odin next to him. His speaker played Emma Ruth Rundle, and between his lips was a joint. I stood and looked at him in silence. This was the worst part of being with him. He should have probably been with a girl more like him, not a middle class girl with a perfect balayage.

I crawled up next to him and laid my cheek on his naked chest. He had showered now and just had on sweatpants now too, another pair of black ones but with a red calligraphy text along one of the legs.

“I'm sorry about my sister… It's she who is awful. She judges everyone so hard.”

It wasn't really true; I had just noticed it when it came to addicts and criminals. Eric just nodded a little and took a deep toke. I looked at him and the joint between his tattooed fingers. I know it wasn't good that he treated his anxiety with another drug, but I didn't dare to tell him that; maybe he would do something even more stupid then. With weed, I know where I had him.

“I'm sorry…” I said again and snuggled into his neck. Eric smiled calmly and looked at me with heavy eyes.

“It's okay…” He patted my cheek softly but then leaned back against the pillow again and took one more drag. I didn't really trust his words and felt a worry spread in me. I couldn't go back to ignorant, narcissistic men after being with a guy like Eric. I looked at him and dragged my hand over his chest and down over his stomach. He was so perfect. I looked at his face when I dragged the palm of my hand over his crotch. I succeeded in making him breathe even deeper, and he smirked a little when he started to grow under my hand. With a bit of help from him, I pulled down the sweatpants, so he lay completely naked in front of me. I didn't care that he had weird tattoos, I just saw him. That wonderful soul and his amazing body. I crawled down between his legs and looked at his cock closely. It was so beautiful, and I saw it as a pleasure to take him in my mouth. He moaned deeply when I deep throated him at once, and I felt his hand push my head down a bit deeper. He was braver when he smoked, as I've noticed before, and soon he fucked my mouth deeply. He stopped when he heard me being in some sort of distress, but when I took him again, he continued. He grunted loudly, and when he came, he did it without warning. It wasn't on purpose, more that it came so suddenly he wasn't even prepared for it, but I drank his cum like it was the wine from the holy grail and licked my lips so nothing would go to waste. 

××× 

I thought the weed and the blowjob would be enough. I thought I could push away the childhood demons I had forced him to talk about, and I thought it would make my sister's judging eyes mean nothing, but I was wrong. I had fallen asleep on his chest after we had made out some after I had gone down on him. He had fallen asleep quite fast, but now I could hear that he was awake. He didn't lay in bed, and I looked towards the window to see if he had a nightly visit from Crow again, but instead I saw him sitting on the couch, and I felt a hard stab in my sternum. He sat with his belt tied around his arm, tightening it harder and harder around his upper arm. I could hear him moan between his sobs. I tried to see if he had a syringe, but he didn't; he just sat and tightened the belt like he had one. I cried silently and laid my hands over my mouth so he wouldn't hear my sobs, even if I believed he was too far gone in his anxiety to hear. He continued for a while, but it clearly wasn't enough, and I saw him remove the belt from his arm to his neck. When he started to tighten the belt and I understood what he was doing, I acted on impulse. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” I screamed through my tears, jumped up from bed, and harshly pulled off the belt that had started to block his breathing. Eric coughed through his anxious breathing, and I took his face in my hands. 

“Why are you doing this?? Why are you doing this??” I screamed but didn't get an answer; he just cried hysterically. I hugged him hard against my chest, and after a few minutes of lying there, he had started to breathe in the same rhythm as my heart. The heart he owned. I led him to bed and let him crawl close to me under the covers, and I breathed as calmly as I could to help him breathe the same way. It took some time before he fell asleep, but when he did, he slept hard and laid heavy against me. While he was sleeping, I lifted the cover to look at his arm, where a deep imprint of the belt could be seen; it would probably become bruised. Then I looked at his neck carefully and could see marks even there—marks I recognized from one of the pictures. This was nothing new for him. He had self-harmed for more than half of his life. I looked at his sleeping face. I would do anything to heal him, just like Lotti and Eric had, the question was if I could. 

××× 

We lay close together with our foreheads against each other and breathed in each other's air. We hadn't talked yet that day, but there wasn't much to say either. I wouldn't pressure him to talk; it wouldn't lead to anything good. The important thing was that he wanted to be with me and now seemed okay. I dragged my fingertips through his hair, feeling the different length through my fingers. 

“I love you,” he whispered and looked me deep in my eyes. His eyes were full of love, even if they looked exhausted. 

“I love you too. Maybe even, most in the entire world,” I said and dragged my nails down over his neck. Eric smiled a little blushy but then looked down. 

“I know you must go home today, but… Can't you stay here with me? One more night? I don't want to be alone…” He whispered in shame. 

I looked at the place on his upper arm where a bruise started to form, and I nodded without thinking more than that Eric needed me. 

“Of course. Of course, baby.” 

He looked at me with big, thankful eyes and then kissed my lips innocently. 

When he took Odin on his morning walk, I prepared myself to call Desiree and tell her Eric had become sick and I needed to care for him. It wasn't often a grown man needed to get care at home, so I prepared myself for questions. I also had mixed feelings about letting Eric go out with Odin. Just a few hours ago I had seen him strangle himself with a belt, and it didn't feel safe at all to leave him alone, but I couldn't decide that, and I knew Odin was good for him. 

I took a deep breath to talk to Desiree but didn't get the response I had thought. She gave me a fast “okay” because she wanted to get to another part of the conversation. 

“Demi said she had met you two out,” she said, nosily. “You should hear how she described him!” She said it with a laugh. I didn't say anything because I expected Desiree to be like Demi, but… 

"God, is she a hundred years old? Who doesn’t have tattoos these days? Even on the face! Shit, what an old hag she is!” She joked with a laugh, so I laughed too, with relief. 

“Can't you bring him here? We want to meet him! You haven't had a dude in ages!” I laughed a little unsure until I thought about what she had said. 

“‘We’?” 

“Yes! All of us at the salon. Demi said he has an interesting haircut too!” 

I didn't really hear what she said in the end because I just thought about Robin. My best friend. He didn't feel like my best friend anymore after hearing Eric talk about him. It was strange, but Eric had so quickly become the most important person in my life, and anyone who hurt him also hurt me. But I wanted Eric to meet the girls. Even if he wasn't what people expected, I was proud of him; people just needed to give him a chance. He was a dream; so sweet, caring, and trustworthy. Silly and playful. If they gave him an honest chance, like it sounded like they would, they would see he was the right guy for me. I got an idea that maybe wouldn't work at all, but it felt like I needed to try. I wanted to have a real relationship with Eric, and I wanted him to meet my friends and family. 

“Halloween maybe?” 

I knew Robin would go away then, to celebrate with other friends. 

“That's perfect! Meeting your spooky boyfriend on halloween!” Said she with a giggle. I laughed too, even if I was nervous as hell. It was just in two weeks, and I hoped Eric would be ready for that. 

×

[elspethdekarios]

Faerûnian 29 Day Writing Challenge: Day 1

Link if you haven't seen it!

Alright folks - this is my first time sharing any of the fic I've written so please be nice to me 🥲

I will probably alternate between the SFW and NSFW prompts--this one is SFW!

Feb 1. What was your tav doing when they were abducted?

“Long day?”

Hera sat in their shared living space with a book in her lap when Elspeth rushed through the door, already starting to peel off the layers of her healer’s uniform.

“Father’s birthday,” Elspeth said from her room as she searched her wardrobe for the two dresses she had considered for the occasion. “Leon will be there.”

Hera rolled her eyes from where she stood in the doorway, her rich, tan skin illuminated by the sunlight coming in through the window. Elspeth laid the two dresses on the bed. The first was practical–sage green and floor-length with a cream colored sash draping from the waist. The second dress was one that El had only worn once before–for a staff dinner with the headmaster of the Academy–before Leon led her up to his room and slipped it off of her. That dress… he had whispered in her ear as he kissed her neck. Hera’s voice snapped Elspeth out of her daydream.

“The blue silk,” she said. “Make him jealous.”

“I broke up with him,” El reminded her.

“Still,” Hera shrugged. “He’s the one who let things fizzle out. Show him what he’s missing.”

After pulling the dress on and asking Hera for help with the tie in the back, Elspeth examined herself in the mirror. Hera was right. This was definitely the dress to wear when seeing an ex-lover. The light blue fabric ruched perfectly across her body, hitched up slightly on one side to reveal a hint of leg, built-in corset tied to accentuate her waist, and thin straps holding up a loose, square neckline. She grabbed a white shawl embroidered with silver leaves to throw over her shoulders.

“Perfect,” Hera said as Elspeth headed towards the door, stopping to do a little twirl in front of her friend. “Good luck. Hope you can leave early.”

“You know I will.” El threw a delicate, cross-body purse over her head and walked out the door.

The Vaidelark House sat on one of the main streets of the Upper City. Its front doors were wide open, allowing her parents’ distinguished guests to mingle inside and out as they pleased. Elspeth felt a ping of anxiety in her chest as she approached. She wasn’t nervous about seeing Leon–she had moved on rather quickly, if she was being honest with herself. He drifted away so gradually that there wasn’t much left to mourn once she ended things. No, this was a feeling of dread. Dreading seeing her parents and their ever-disapproving faces. Dreading seeing her sister. Dreading making her way through the crowd, nodding politely as the guests whispered under their breath once she was out of earshot.

A shame, really, they would say. 

If only she could have turned out like her sister.

She was much more pleasant to be around when she was dating that paladin boy.

Her parents highly approved of Leon from the moment they met him. Proud, disciplined, a smooth talker. El didn’t even mind her parents very much when she brought Leon with her. They were nicer to her. Approved of her being with someone so mighty and honorable and eager to rise in the ranks of Baldur’s Gate. When she broke things off with him, she once again took on the role of rebellious daughter, squandering her status by working as a healer and having no desire to participate in the noble society in which she was raised. Obstinate, her parents often called her. The dread in her stomach reminded her of why she hadn’t been to visit in at least two months, if not more. She took a deep breath as she approached the front doors.

“Good to see you, Lady Elspeth,” said a waiter in the foyer, holding a plate of hors d'oeuvres. 

“Hello, Van,” she replied, taking a giant shrimp from his tray. “Lovely to see you, as well. Is Ms. Tessie around?”

“Yes, my lady. She’s in the kitchen–quite busy, but she was hoping you would attend. She would love to see you.”

“Many thanks,” she nodded. “I think I’ll go pop my head in.”

The kitchen smelled of roast chicken, freshly baked bread, buttered carrots, and berry compote, somehow all at the same time without clashing. Waiters rushed around the room–plating food, dropping off empty trays, refilling wine decanters–and a red-haired halfling woman stood in front of the stove, directing the cooks and waiters while concentrating on an enchanted spoon and mixing bowl in front of her.

“Take that sauce off the heat. One second too long and it’s no good. Have the shrimp gone out?–good–what about the rolls? Don’t let them get cold like last time–”

“Need any help?”

Some of the newer staff, those who started after Elspeth moved out of the house, bowed their heads and busied themselves with the tasks they were already busy with. The ones who knew her, though, greeted her with smiles.

“Lady Elspeth!” one of them said. “Didn’t expect to see you down here.”

“Oh, if it isn’t my favorite Vaidelark,” Tessie said, turning from her station at the stove.

“Don’t let the old crows hear you say that,” El joked as she lowered herself to hug her.

“You know I don’t.” Elspeth stood, and Ms. Tessie’s laugh lines deepened as she beamed up at her. “I’m so glad you came, Ellie. And you still wear that old thing I gave you years ago!”

El toyed with the twisting, silver ring on her finger. “Of course I do.”

“I have to get back to work, sweet girl, but do come down and chat later, will you?”

“I would love to. Depends on how quickly I’m made to feel unwelcome.” She flashed a playful smile, knowing Tessie would understand. But the halfling’s face turned grim and apologetic.

“Hold firm, Ellie,” she said. “No matter what happens out there.”

Elspeth raised an eyebrow.

“What are you saying?”

Tessie only gave her a sad smile before a clang of metal from a dropped tray made her turn her head, rushing to help the clumsy server who dropped it.

“Oh, dear–you’ve got to work on your balance! Ellie–” she looked over her shoulder. “I love you, sweet girl.”

“Love you, Tessie,” she said, apprehensively returning to the foyer.

The guests crowded the halls, gowns and robes glittering with refracted light from the chandelier. Elspeth mingled her way through, greeting the important people she had always been expected to greet, engaging in small talk with others, and taking particular satisfaction in smiling wide at those who averted their eyes as she passed by. After the scandal, most of her family’s social circle chose to pretend that she never existed–not that she was ever really involved in their society anyway. But dating Leon, an important patriar’s son, seemed to be almost enough to make everyone forget about the time she gambled away the Vaidelark heirloom jewels during a drunken night of debauchery. Once their relationship ended… well, it was just another mark against her in the eyes of nobility. 

In the drawing room, she found her parents obscured by a group of attendees, but when her mother’s eyes met her own, the lady of the house politely found a way to end the conversation so Elspeth could approach without reminding the public that Lord and Lady Vaidelark had a wayward daughter. Only when the guests walked away did she notice her sister standing with them.

“Elspeth,” Ariadne greeted her with unnatural enthusiasm. “I didn’t think you would come.”

“I always attend Father’s birthday parties.” She kissed her father on the cheek and wished him a happy birthday. He was certainly showing his age now, especially compared to her mother’s youthful 200-and-something elf years.

“Thank you, Elspeth,” he said, looking everywhere in the room except at her. His aversion made her anxious. He was the more reasonable parent, if still aloof, but his demeanor along with Tessie’s comment made Elspeth wonder what in the hells was going on.

Her mother greeted her with a stern nod. That was normal, at least.

Fortunately, a man’s gleeful voice interrupted the awkward silence.

Unfortunately, that man was Leon.

“Here, darling, I’ve gotten you a refill,” he said, walking right past El. He handed Ariadne a silver goblet and wrapped an arm around her waist. When he noticed his surroundings, his eyes widened and the color drained from his face.

“El…”

Her brow furrowed in confusion because surely Leon was not dating her sister, and surely she was simply imagining his hand resting on her hip, or misinterpreting the situation completely. No, of course he wouldn’t be with Ariadne–that was absurd. Simply outrageous.

Her sister tilted her head up and kissed him. His eyes did not leave Elspeth’s. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “But can someone tell me what the fuck is happening?”

“Watch your language,” her mother spat at her.

“No offense, Mother, but I could not care less about my language in this situation.”

“Oh, I was going to wait to tell you,” Ariadne boasted. “After all, I didn’t expect you to be here. But I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now. Leon and I are engaged!”

She thrust out her hand to show off a huge, glittering sapphire surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds.

Elspeth’s breath caught in her throat. A chill ran through her veins, but her pulse quickened as heat rose in her chest. The ambient chatter of the room was replaced with a low thrum that sounded like she was suddenly underwater. The edges of the room blurred, guests fading into nonexistence as the four people in front of her, the four people who were supposed to love her, seared themselves into her vision, her ire and repulsion and hatred no longer able to be contained.

“You vile bitch,” she snarled.

“El, let me explain–” 

“No,” she snapped her head towards Leon. “Don’t bother wasting your breath. You’re all pathetic people–especially you–” she pointed at Ariadne. “The golden child who gets everything she wants–who lives to make me fucking miserable!” She knew she was making a scene, but she didn’t care. Her reputation with these people was already in the gutter.

“Enjoy the sloppy seconds. You deserve each other,” El said before turning away, pushing her way through the drawing room. She needed to get out.

“Ellie! Wait!” Miss Tessie ran through the foyer after her, still wearing her stained apron from the kitchen. 

El halted in front of the doors. A lump formed in her throat at the sound of Tessie’s voice. The one who always looked after her, who took her under her wing, who never treated her like she was inferior. First, she felt love and comfort. But then, remembering Tessie’s comment in the kitchen, she felt anger. Betrayal. 

“You knew,” she snapped. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

Tessie stuttered, words failing to provide an explanation. El could see the apologetic look in her eyes, but her rage was too consuming for her to care. Her parents, Ariadne, and Leon had gathered behind Tessie, a blur of faces behind them, all staring.

“I never want to see any of you again,” Elspeth cried before storming out of the house and into the twilight. 

The people and buildings on the street were indistinct, dark shapes through the tears that she couldn’t get to stop welling up in her eyes. She had no regrets about what she said to her family or Leon, but the moment she realized her parting words were also directed at Tessie, she wished she could catch them midair and pull them back into her mouth. This regret was stronger than any she had ever felt– surpassing even her fuck-up with the heirloom jewels. She was sobbing, her feet aching from the cobblestone and a long day at work that felt like a lifetime ago. She could hear music from a nearby pub, and laughter from their patrons, and gods, how she envied them. Laughter would come again, she knew, but not right now. Right now she wanted to let herself be miserable. She deserved it. Healing would come later.

Elspeth ducked into a familiar alleyway to steady herself before she continued her route home. Deep breaths, she told herself. In - out - in - out. It was no use–each time she was able to get herself to calm down, another wave of sobs started barreling out of her. She sank down the wall and let them come.

A loud crash brought her attention back to the main street. She listened for a moment, only hearing a distant rumble. Odd, but this was the city, and weird things happened all the time. It must be some wizard showing off, or a sorcerer’s elemental getting out of control, she thought. Until she heard a blood-curdling scream.

More screaming followed, and she got to her feet to look around the corner. People were fleeing down the street, rubble and debris in the air behind them. The cloud of dust was too thick to see the cause, but it was getting closer now. Suddenly, the evening sky began to darken overhead, and she saw it: a giant floating ship made of sinew and cartilage. Tentacles hung from its undercarriage, swimming through the air like a massive, demented octopus. A nautiloid. 

She didn’t even have time to run.

[anthrofreshtodeath]

P FKN R Intro

I'm at work, sort of working, sort of tinkering with some writing stuff at lunch, especially the beginning of P FKN R in hopes that I might manufacture some inspiration. Too soon to tell, but maybe if I share it here that will spur me on some more. Here we go!

___

Jamaica Plain’s cars were jammed onto its narrow streets, effectuating a one-way rule by default; those that did crawl through broadcasted an amalgam of sounds into the Latin Quarter: Spanish talk radio, classic rock, and of course, full and knocking reggaetón beats.

Jamaica Plain’s three-story homes groaned as they expanded at high noon, stacked and running from one end of Chestnut Avenue to the other, one of those narrow streets in the time-honored New England style. In another facet of that tradition, its air rippled in a summer scorcher, wafting smells over from La Isla café on the corner: the strong oil-sweet of fried plantains and roasted pork, the kind Jane Rizzoli liked to order with a side of rice when she sat down at one of their vinyl-topped, worn-in, peach-colored tables. 

JP pulsated at lunch time. 

Jane’s stomach gurgled when she remembered her last meal: a chugged cup of coffee at the marble counter in the Beacon Hill home of the woman kneeling over the body they’d been called to investigate. The image of it was made more grotesque by the contrast of her Aeron skirt and Bottega Veneta heels with the contorted limbs of the man on the walkup in broad daylight. 

Jane still liked it, Maura Isles’ high-class wardrobe and the attitude it brought to neighborhoods like this, neighborhoods like her own. That attitude, the I’m the hottest in the room chest-beating, shoulder-brushing mindset, matched what Jane always knew about Boston’s real cultural pockets. The ones with subsidized housing and community gardens and spots like La Isla. “Watcha got for me?” Jane said by way of greeting.

Maura looked up, her long, highlighted hair swishing to the other shoulder when she shook it out. Her green eyes shimmered and she smirked when Jane winked. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Saw ya like thirty minutes ago,” said Jane. “And if we hurry this up, cut the pleasantries, I can take you right on over to that restaurant and introduce you to the best lunch you’ll ever eat in JP.” She pointed to the wide-open window view of the restaurant just a football field away.

“Hmm,” Maura replied, “I could be persuaded, I suppose. Penetrating wounds to the chest and abdomen, surrounding shell casings would indicate he was shot.”

Jane pursed her lips and smiled at the same time. She crossed her nitrile-gloved hands over her hips and shrugged under her blazer for some relief from the beads of sweat rolling down her back. She should not have worn black in late June. “You don’t say,” she teased. But then, quickly back to business, she pointed to the decedent’s broken ankle, distorted and impossibly angled toward midline. “That from this fall?” She asked.

Maura stood, narrowed her brows at Jane’s narrowed brow. “Can’t say right now,” she answered. “But these steps are narrow and uneven. It’s possible.”

“Even if it isn’t, he wa’n’t goin’ very far,” Jane commented. She clenched her jaw, and her masseter muscle clicked in investigatory concentration. “What’s on his hand?”

“Burns,” Maura said. They shared a look, one that only experience, only dozens and dozens of murders, could engender. A car door slammed and footsteps approached as they communicated about the man on the ground without words.

Maura never went to JP unless there was work to be done, and Jane? Jane really only traveled out this way for murder anymore, which was a damn shame because the food was good, and so was the company - even if that company happened to be related to the asshole walking up to them now. “Hey oh - the hell are you doin’ at my crime scene?” barked Jane.

Rafael Martinez, lieutenant of the Drug Control Unit.

Tall, dark-skinned, in a baby blue v-neck stretched against his defined chest, with a Boricua jawline that showcased his trimmed beard like art. He ran his hand over his shaved head once, and licked his lips on his way to the woman shouting at him. “I could ask you the same thing, Rizzoli,” he said through a wicked smile, all white teeth and innate pride. Just as he held out his arms to really rub in his obtusity, a lowered, electric green and black Impreza roared past them, changing Martinez’s mirth to ire, now directed entirely to the street. “Ey!” he shouted, the car already long gone. Then he stepped onto the sidewalk and dusted his dark, slim fit jeans. “Swear to god if one more lowrider tries to run me off the road, I’m outta this city.”

Jane scoffed. “You already were outta this city, remember? Almost a decade. They ain’t got those in New York, Mr. Hot Shot?”

Martinez stared at her, awed by both her attitude and her mouth, until he shook his head of its disbelief. Maura smiled at him as if to commiserate, and held her medical bag in front of her as she faced him. “Not that we’re not happy to have you-”

“We’re not,” Jane interrupted.

Maura glared with a good-natured, nonverbal shut up that worked, at least for the moment. “Like I said - not that we’re not happy to have you, but a federal task force in New York City with the chance for so much more? What brings you back to Boston?”

“Homesick, I guess, doc,” Martinez replied with a cheeky grin. Maura nodded and out of habit, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Jane was unmoved by his obfuscation and his easy Boston-Latin accent. “Bullshit,” she said, “you live for that. You live for the thrill. And the juice.”

Rafael shrugged. “Whatchu want me to say, Rizzoli?” he overtrilled the r of her surname on purpose, in the way that both Italians and Puerto Ricans do. “Me voy a caballo y vengo a pie, eh? Didn’t turn out, no matter how bad I wanted it. When you come from the neighborhoods that Paddy Doyle runs, the Bureau gets certain ideas about where your loyalties are. Especially if you BPD.”

Maura bowed her head in embarrassment, and Jane actually twitched her nose at that one. A droplet of perspiration ran down it, a sign that she’d been in the sun too long. “Well that sucks. Sorry. Still don’t answer why you’re here, steppin’ all over my toes.”

“That,” he started again, pointing to the victim sprawled on the porch of the house they surrounded, “is one of the main earners of the Kill Shot Gang. New crew muscling their way into JP. And I…” he drew out the pronoun for emphasis, “needa find out who did it. I already got your bro out there runnin’ ops for me.” He threw his head in the direction of the strip mall at the intersection of Chestnut and Weaver, a block that saw a lot of traffic. Literal and metaphorical.

“You got an Italian infiltrating the Latin drug trade? Sounds like all you’re doin’ is lookin’ for ways to get him killed,” growled Jane. She marched her long body toward him, her posture designed for intimidation. 

Martinez laughed. “Would you calm down? I know what I’m doing,” he told her, stepping into her aggression, opening his chest to it, bringing his face close to her hers. He smiled when she glared. “And other Rizzoli’s a grown man. Despite you and your ma’s best efforts.”

Just as Jane initiated her lunge, Maura caught it, her fingers wrapped firmly around Jane’s bicep. “Jane-”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jane, body bridled for the moment, unfurled some biting words, “don’t think I don’t remember your mommy comin’ down the station with sack lunches for all of us.”

“Alright, alright, listen,” Martinez put up his hands when he acquiesced, because she had a point. “One: I don’t remember you complaining about all that food when it was put in front of you. Two: I will personally make sure that he stays safe. You got my word.”

Jane pulled out of Maura’s grip and sighed. Rafael’s deep and steady voice, when divorced from deceptive intent and real life experiences at his side, inspired faith. It made people want to believe. But Jane had been his partner for too long. She had been in his bed for too long. “Yeah, that’s my worry,” she grumbled quietly. She took stock of his eyes one last time, brown and expressive and alive, and let them give her that little jolt they had before all the history came seeping in. 

He took stock right back, and the passion that had always burned in him shook her, passion for her that she could never reciprocate. She broke first, turning her head to Maura at her side - Maura, who had a pretty indulgent grin on her face. “It seems you have business,” Maura said, hand on Jane’s back. “I can take a rain check for lunch. Meet me for the autopsy?” 

“Y-yeah,” Jane stuttered. 

“But don’t wait up for her too long,” Martinez butted in. He winked at Maura, in a way that reminded her of Jane. “Because I’ve got a task force on KSG that I have a feeling Detective Rizzoli here is gonna want in on.”

Maura regarded him for a long time, without regard for the social rules on how long a person should stare, before she decided on a smile of her own. “I’m the Chief ME, lieutenant. I’ll wait for whomever I want, however long I want.” She winked back, clearly in mockery of his previous display, and then bid them her goodbyes.

Jane held in her laughter as Martinez withered under both the midday sun and Maura’s retort. “Man it’s hot. Let’s get this processed so we can get back to the ranch.”

[colleenmurphy]

"I wouldn't want to impose on Mrs. Hill at this moment..."

The stammering breathy voice all but wailed from the well kept and tastefully decorated foyer of the large house the Hill family stayed in during the cooler months. It was as much a fortress as an oasis and equally a status symbol for it's owners, or rather, owner. Mrs. Mary Hill. Her husband, Hoyt, had insisted that everything be put into her name if something untimely or unseemly were to happen to him and she hadn't argued. Mr. Hill was out of town on another business trip and this pressing matter, the one with the breathy voice coming closer and closer to Mary's inner sanctuary, was named Francie Kinter. A barmaid and burlesque dancer that made a name for herself a social climber. She was a rather buxom blonde with loose lips and very little in the way of brains that posed a very real threat to family safety and to the business that built them and the town they called home.

"Mrs. Hill insists on seeing you, Miss. Kinter. It truly is of most importance."

With a knock a heartbeat went by an answer sounded from the cavernous bathroom fitted with the finest imported arabacasto oribico grey marble and gilt taps that looked like they were cast only once. Wolves or dogs heads. The finest details down to their fur and bared teeth sent a shiver down Francie's spine. A large vanity set back to the left towards a set of double doors leading into what could only be assumed was Mrs. Hill's wardrobe or bedroom suite. On the other directly across from the door where the housekeeper and Francie were standing sat a large luxuriously deep free standing soaking tub. The usual facilities, shower for rising and toilet with bidet were tucked away in a separate smaller closet looking area. Candles were the only light source in the room as the large windows overlooking the lush greenery of the backyard were covered with heavy dove grey blinds. The scent of burning wax, vanilla and roses filled the large space and crept closely to the skin of anyone in the room, almost as if it were too a living being. The humidity was horror on Francie's hair and she looked in vain back at the housekeeper who had already taken her post by the door awaiting instruction. The steam filled the room along with the scent of menthol and marijuana.

"Miss Minter, won't you have a seat?"

The cool educated slightly lilting voice of Mrs. Hill startled Francie even though it shouldn't have. It was as if she blinked and there Mrs. Hill was. Swallowing the lump forming in her throat Francie accepted the seat on a small tufted wingback chair made of crushed velvet and oak. Despite it's looks the little thing was exceptionally comfortable. Mrs. Hill was a different breed entirely than the women Francie had grown up with, smooth pale milk white skin that glowed, eyes an unnatural shade of blue green and waist length hair the color of coal made her an exotic breed around the town of Sloughbridge. Her elegant walk and educated way of speaking made some of the towns women loathe her on sight as she turned heads their husbands didn't like her because she could toe the line as good as any man and flash them a look that would stop their hearts. Her gilt hounds head faucet didn't drip as Francie's Mama's did. Watching as long slender hands reached for the cigarette holder containing Mrs. Hill's hand rolled cigarette. Transfixed onto what the slightly older woman was doing she watched as she drew the cigerette holder up and took a long composed drag, held it, and then exhaled slowly right in Francie's direction as she reclined in the hot water. The tub was deep enough that all Francie could see was a cloud of bubbles and the tops of Mrs. Hill's shoulders. The smell again heavily of roses wafted towards her in her chair and she all but gagged.

'Hello Mr. Hill.'

The sound of her own voice bounced off of the blonde woman's head a memory flashed in Francie's mind of all the times she'd greeted Mr. Hill. Flashing him her very best smile and jutting her chest out, trying her hardest to ensnare him as she had gotten Neil Lewman's attention, no matter that he had been married or Joe Rollings, she just wanted fun. He hadn't even given her the time of day just turned his head the other way and walked off. The last time he'd been into Hardinson's General Store she had flung herself off the dry goods ladder and fallen into him effectively trying to lock eyes with him. He hadn't even looked at her except his handsome chiseled jaw had set tight.

'Now I've got you.'

The humidity hit her first and she remembered where she was.

"I know exactly who and what you are, girl. It's in your best interest to step away from the tree you're barking up or some other bitch is liable to tear you to shreds."

In an instant Mrs. Hill's face was mere inches from Francie's as a tingling throbbing pain ran up the back of her head right where Mrs. Hill had grabbed her, the long painstakingly manicured crimson nails dug into her tender scalp as her eyes locked in on her.

"Do I make myself absolutely crystal clear, Miss Minter?"

A startled squeak and a tight nod as tears ran down Francie's cheeks.

"Y..y-es."

"Yes who?"

"Y-ye-ss..M-Mrs. Hh-Hill."

"Good. Gather yourself and please excuse me I've another meeting to attend to in about twenty minutes."

Trying to pick herself up as quickly as she could Francie slipped and landed on her backside, resorted to trying to crawl out on her hands and knees.

"Oh..and Miss Minter?"

Wild terrified eyes looked up at the impossibly tall figure of the now standing slender woman who had draped herself in a grey silk robe towered over her. A titan goddess in her marble throne room.

"Your employment at the Hardison General Store is no longer needed."

It was two weeks before Francie noticed that the sign over the general store had changed to 'Hill & McCabee General Store' as she left town on the last train.

[lisbeth-snape]

So here's the second part, hope you like it <3

"The Curse" by Lissu

Part 2: Anna loves...!- shut up.

"I received the letter from your parents about your horrible accident, my dear," the headmaster started carefully, as he surely knew how traumatic it was not only for me but also for them. "I just want you to know that whatever happens, you can always talk to me or to our dear Mrs. Poppy. We're here to help you no matter what."

"Thank you, Professor. It means a lot to me, but I'm pretty fine, I promise. There's nothing to worry about, seriously," I tried to sound as convincing as I could, even though it was a lie. I wasn't feeling as great as I used to before the accident. The scar on my forearm looked the same as the day it was made—still fresh without any signs of healing. I tried to cover it up with long sleeves or a bandage, but the way it looked was only the tip of the iceberg. I felt like that wound was messing with me because I noticed lately that I was losing lots of my hair, my skin was gray, dry, and rough as sandpaper, no matter how much lotion I used. My head was aching almost all the time, and I couldn't focus even on the most basic tasks. But I thought to myself that now when I'm at Hogwarts, it will be better. I can make myself some kind of healing potion or ointment and help myself without anyone else involved.

After talking to the headmaster I went straight to the shower, and after that, I fell asleep immediately, completely exhausted. Despite this, my sleep was not peaceful. Nightmares haunted me all night until I woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat, unable to move, which made me panic even more. The dream I had reminded me of everything that happened that evening. I felt disgust towards myself, with gathering all the strength left in my body, I tried to get up. But as I got out of bed, I stumbled straight onto the carpet, hitting the bed frame and the wardrobe edge. I looked around the room, and fortunately, I didn't wake any of the other three girls sleeping with me. Slowly leaning against the wardrobe, I approached the large, wooden trunk to get my clothes and cosmetics, then slowly and heavily made my way to the small bathroom attached to the room. My breathing was heavy, and my heart beat unevenly. I felt like I was getting weaker and weaker day by day.

I closed the door behind me and filled the bathtub with water, as I layed my clothes on the shelf. The bathroom wasn't big, but it was laid out quite spaciously, with the bathtub against the main wall where there was a huge window, and a sink with a large mirror above it. The countertop was also sizable for the space available, and everything was in the colors of the house. I looked in the mirror at my hair sticking out in every direction and dark circles under my eyes. I look terrible...

I combed my hair and tied it into a tight bun, then immediately immersed myself in the bathtub, which I had previously filled with hot water and lavender soap.

The water was soothing for my skin, which, although completely submerged and slowly warming up, felt as if it had frozen through, and I didn't even know exactly when, considering how warm was in our dormitory.

I submerged my trembling and sore hands in the water to give them some warmth, but instead of pleasure, I only felt how intensely the scar with the disgusting inscription began to sting under the influence of soap. I grabbed my wrist and examined it closely, seeing how all the skin around started to turn blue.

The curse is spreading through my body even faster.

Angry and powerless, I thrust my hand into the water, splashing it on the floor.

Great! Now I'll have to clean that up too.

Tears flowed from all the emotions I had experienced lately, but I quickly wiped them away and tried not to think too much about the terrible events, not wanting it to distract me from my studies, which were about to start in a few hours. I couldn't slack off, only two years left. I leaned my back against the cold edge of the bathtub and began to think about yesterday's conversation with the director. My parents had informed him about what I had gone through and the fact that since then, my health had been declining. He promised to make every effort to prevent my condition from worsening and to make Hogwarts a safe, stress-free place for me.

I finished my bath and wrapped myself in a towel. The wound on my arm still hurt. I need to find some ointment...

I thought, reaching for my underwear, which I put on, and looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was gray and dull, even from a distance, it was visible that it was covered with thick, long fuzz. What a mess, I hope I'm not turning into a werewolf, I thought, grabbing the rest of the clothes, which I quickly put on so as not to look at myself anymore.

I combed my hair again, accentuated my eyebrows and eyelashes, and applied a delicate, cool raspberry lipstick before leaving the toilet, casting a cleaning spell on the water I spilled from the bathtub earlier. I didn't want the girls to be mad, let alone slip on the slippery stone floor and hurt themselves.

It was cold in the corridors; the walls hadn't warmed up yet from the sun's rays, which were just beginning to creep shyly across the ground, tentatively reaching the castle from the level of the grass. Everyone was still asleep, so I quietly sneaked back to my bed and took out books for the first lessons from the cabinet next to it, packing them into my bag. I put on a warm sweater over my shoulders and headed to the exit to the main tower corridor, and then down the stairs straight to the Great Hall, hoping I could study there before breakfast and the whole room filled with noise and bustle.

The corridors were empty and peaceful; even the ghosts in the paintings were outside their frames, resting somewhere else. It was quite dark; the sun was gently coming through the windows, but not enough for me to see everything ahead clearly. I walked down the winding stairs in semi-darkness until I heard footsteps from the corridor next to it. I stepped back a little higher to remain unnoticed and leaned out gently. Professor Snape was walking down the corridor, limping on one leg, wiping the blood dripping from his nose every now and then, and his clothes were torn, showing his entire leg from the knee down, cut with various wounds, and a dark mark on his arm. I stepped back higher, hoping to hide, horribly afraid he would notice me, but he kept walking straight towards the stairs. I retreated a few more steps, my heart pounding like a bell, almost tearing itself out of my chest, and panic was fueled by the symbol on the man's body. To my relief, he went straight down to the dungeons, not seeing me. I breathed a sigh of relief and waited a moment longer to make sure he had gone deep enough not to hear me and then went straight to the Great Hall, where there were already quite a few bustling house-elves.

I greeted them and took a seat at the Hufflepuff table, sitting with a whirl in my head, which I wanted to drown out by laying out the potions book and immersing myself in it. I tried not to think about what I had seen and how terrified I was by the prospect of being in the same room with someone like that. I tried to remember every ingredient of the potions and their properties, the materials from which the cauldrons are made, and the rest of the basics worth knowing. As I reached out to turn the page, the same pain as before shot through me again. I reached for the table of contents to find something that could help me. Page 29, wound-cleansing potion... Hmm... 109, antidote for common poisons, 112, antidote for uncommon poisons. I don't know if that's what I'm looking for. 340, quick healing ointment. Oh, that might work! I marked the page with a small feather and began to follow the ingredients.

One medium-sized bezoar, 5 mistletoe berries, a pinch of powdered unicorn horn...Uh, where am I supposed to get that from?" I asked myself in frustration, finding an obstacle already on the third item of the recipe. I quickly glanced over the rest of the list and concluded that fortunately, that would be the only difficult-to-obtain ingredient. Lavender infusion I can even make in the dormitory; it probably doesn't differ much from the lavender tea I make on those days to stop my stomach from hurting, right? Hmm... honey water sounds simple too. It should be fine, but where will I get a horn from...?

Above my head, candles lit up, signaling that breakfast would start soon. House-elves began to arrange food and drinks on the tables, and I could hear Hogwarts slowly coming to life after the night, filling the rooms with the sounds of conversation and footsteps.

I closed the book and put it back in my bag; shortly after, the hall began to get crowded, including at my table.-What time did you get up?- Soap shouted from a few meters away, approaching the table.

-I didn't see you anywhere this morning, even when I woke up.--I woke up earlier today, couldn't sleep, don't know why- I said, squeezing her in greeting.-All right, ready for the new semester?!- she asked excitedly.

-She pointed to the trophy placed in the middle of the hall. -This tournament sounds really interesting, and those guys from Durmstrang are intriguing too—The end of the sentence was spoken much quieter, though horribly squeaky. It was evident that she was excited.

-The one you're pointing at clearly has a thing for Potter's bestie. - I tried to bring her back to earth, but she just got offended.

-Granger? But she's younger than us, and I think I look way better. He noticed her because she's from Gryffindor, they're everywhere it's easy to run into any of them. - she adjusted her light, long hair as if throwing her a challenge, although Hermione was sitting on the other side of the hall and wasn't even aware that anyone was talking about her.-Hey girls, what are you talking about?-

-Hey Colt, we're gossiping about the guys from Durmstrang-Those big guys? They don't look too bright, and look how they're all buzzed, they look like they're from Muggle prisons.-

-And how do you even know what Muggle prisons look like? You have no idea about the Muggle world. - she grumbled, looking at the students from the foreign school with buttery eyes. However, I preferred to focus on breakfast, seeing that relationships wouldn't get me anywhere with the upcoming exams, and that was the only thing that should interest me until the end of my education. Besides, something in me knew that I didn't stand a chance with any guy anyway. I wasn't one of those pretty girls... I still felt weak and hoped that sweet juice and a meal would put me back on my feet. I reached for the soft-boiled eggs and toast, and for dessert, I took a pumpkin pastry with me just in case I needed to munch on stress during potions. Yes, unfortunately, that was my curse. Since I was little, I would eat my emotions, for which I was mocked in Muggle primary school, I was that ugly, fat and different. As I matured, I drastically lost weight, but I still felt insecure about every part of my body, although Col and Soap often assured me that I had a great figure and absolutely beautiful face. Unfortunately, unpleasant things are remembered more than nice ones, and I always found it hard to believe them.

-Let's get going, we can't be late on the first day- my friend said, getting up, looking only at me, offended by what Colt had said. We followed her to the dungeons, which were, as always, dark and dreadfully cold, and I regretted not warming up with tea. When we reached the stairs, I remembered what I had seen in the morning. I reluctantly entered the classroom, looking towards the large desk placed on a small platform, luckily no one was there. Once inside, I took my place next to Lucy, with whom I always worked when we paired up, and prepared my workstation at the quadruple table with Colt and Soap on the other side.

-He's coming...- Colt whispered, not very pleased, and the whole class turned towards the door. A shiver ran through my body at the thought that a dangerous Death Eater was with us, and all the rumors Sophie told us yesterday were true. He wasn't limping at all, his walk was stern, straight and confident as always.

As he turned around I looked at his face, searching for traces of what he had on him in the morning, but nothing of that was visible anymore. His nose, although still crooked, seemed to be potentially healthy, and the way he walked didn't seem to say anything about a previous accident; I illustrated him from top to bottom, carefully and slowly.

-You're staring as if you were in love- Lucy whispered, poking me in the arm.-Uuuu, Anna loves...- I heard from my right. -Shut up, what? No! Calm down, everyone, you're behaving like first-years, and we're literally adults now- I quieted them down.-Besides, I saw something this morning, which was—

-Miss Doe, is there something you'd like to share with us? - the potions teacher turned towards us and after a second, found himself terrifyingly close to us; my heart began to beat in panic.

-N-no, sir...- I lowered my gaze, glancing at my friends beside me, and they, feeling that it was their fault too, also felt awkward and lowered their gaze.

-It seems Ravenclaw doesn't want to lose points on the first day, and, moreover, from such a brazenly stupid reason as not listening in class and interrupting me in my teaching? - he spoke slowly, syllabizing each word precisely.

-No, sir- I said softly, my voice trembling.-So what should I do in such a situation?- his face was so close to mine. -P-please don't punish my house for something that I did. I would like to take the punishment for my actions without involving anyone else...- I didn't dare to raise my eyes; his voice was too harsh and stern. However, I knew he was looking straight at me with his absolutely cold eyes devoid of any emotions except anger.

-In that case, after dinner, you will clean the entire hall and scrub all the cauldrons and tools that will be used today.-I promise, sir- I whispered as he was the one one who could heard that.

-Does anyone else want to add something?!- he said, turning around the class, almost hitting us with his cloak.-No? Excellent. Back to work.-He said gruffly and sat down with a thud at his desk.

-could be worse...- Colt said.-I wonder if he heard everything- Lucy said, terrified. -Hopefully not- I sighed, cutting off the lizard's tail.

-Maybe at least you'll have equally greasy hair after cleaning as he does, and he'll pardon you for the resemblance- I nudged Soap with the knife, not to harm her but to make her feel the prick.

-That's not funny, his gross, like he never washed those hair.- I said in disgust, and she just snorted, massaging her arm, then pushed me on Colt, as Lucy were laughing, as long as Snape looked at us once again with a warning.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

For the headcanon meme if you still open

■ and ☾ for Manwe

Please and thank you💚

Still open, 🙂. I'll be taking these HC asks tomorrow as well.

HC game from this post

I will stick to the bedroom portion of the first headcanon.

*Cracks knuckles*

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon:

Manwë's bedroom is massive, as it should be. He is the Elder King after all.

As for the overall decor and themes? The walls and coffered ceiling are comprised of white marble. On one side, beautiful, wide-arched windows made of stained glass strong enough to withstand the winds atop Taniquetil can be found. These windows depict some of Arda's history since the time of the Ainulindalë. In fact, most of the windows (save for those in the observatory) in Ilmarin are all stained glass, depicting various historical events and stories.

His bed is a stunning four-poster made of white wood. The drapes and bed linen are all white with gorgeous blue accents. A crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the bedroom. The prisms of the chandelier are shaped to look like feathers.

Others- a fireplace in one corner, with an occasional table and a pair of plush chairs (in blue) in front of it. Then you get your usual items, like a bedside table, a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, and a sofa set. All have the same color scheme of white and pleasing shades of blue.

☾ - sleep headcanon:

Manwë doesn't just sleep. He has a whole routine. A warm bath first and foremost, to soak his cares away. We're talking fragrant oil and candles, perhaps with an elven minstrel in the bedroom strumming a harp. Then he will slip into comfortable silken robes and braid his hair before going out and paying the minstrel with a gold coin. Once he is alone, he will slip into bed with a good book. He's a light sleeper, often worrying about his brother and Arda in general.

Tags: @edensrose @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese @fictionfordays @wandererindreams

[unboundtravels]

SHORT TRIPS; UNBOUNDNOVEMBER 20/23: SUNRISE

A post regenerated (Looney) Doctor enters The TARDIS after a trying ordeal. Inside, he attempts to situate himself after the change concludes.

She stands there on the corner of an empty street. The sunlight bakes her wood, causing her to have an aged, rustic look. Her blue has faded into a darker color. She's decided she wants to wear an aged, faded look. Her windows were a pale yellow, her text and lamp scratched and worn. Despite her rustic appearance, she's still the most beautiful thing he's ever laid his eyes on. 

He's still wearing another man's clothes. Now he's maybe a few inches shorter, though. He's holding a thick cotton black coat, wearing a baggy faded sweatshirt and loose trousers. He'd already kicked the boots off a while ago. His skin was lit with a blush, his cheeks dotted with the odd freckle here and there. His eyes were bright and brow and his hair was long, wavy, and brown. He hadn't had the time to change because he'd been forced to wake up prematurely and attend to some planet-saving business. That was done now.

"I like your new look, old girl." He compliments, before fishing out the key and pushing the door open. Once inside, he was bathed in a warm, aquamarine glow. His eyes take in the circular shape of the new console room. "Oh," He cooed, "I really like your new look." He moved to step up the raised platform, hands tracing the rusted railing before he stepped up onto the first of two raised platforms leading to the console. He's impressed by the organic pillars and the wall-mounted platform. The TARDIS felt very mechanical in this form, with a splash of patchwork to make her feel more handbuilt. That made the connection between himself and her more intimate in that regard, he thought. It felt like she wanted to feel pride in him. Switches felt placed in familiar positions that made it feel like he himself had constructed the craft.

The rotor was pretty. The crown jewel of the console room. Steeped in a blue glow that gave it a beautiful contrast with the amber walls. The loose cables were a lovely touch, while also feeling needed. More powerlines indicated increased power. He draped the coat of his previous incarnation over the hydraulic raised car seat near the back of the console. He stepped toward the console, his hands clicking and twisting various switches that seemed to prime the engines and the console. He exhaled, "Ohoho... I know I hear ya, I hear ya." He replies to the purr of the TARDIS engines. She's ready to take off. Before he can even begin priming the engines for take-off fully— he moves to step away from the raised platform, down through a small hatch-like door leading into the corridors.

The Wardrobe was a multiple floors, with a rotational staircase leading up to the rest of the floors. He climbed up it immediately, heading toward the top floor. He intended to work his way down, and on his way up he began removing the rest of his previous selves clothes. On the top floor, he started with pants. He grabbed a tight pair of black jeans and socks. On his way down he grabbed a black T-shirt and a pair of sneakers, high tops. Near the final floor, he grabbed a green cargo jacket and a messenger bag. By the time he reached a mirror, he was more confident in his appearance. His hands were in his jacket, but the messenger bag helped his look appear firmer, tighter.

With his new look, he moved to click various switches that warmed up the engine. A buzzing on the console attracted his attention. The console deposited a Sonic Screwdriver, the latest model. Retrofitted with all the current upgrades and a little extra. The Doctor squealed excitedly, "Oh! A new one~" He grinned delightfully, like an excited, manic puppy. It was copper, with bits of silver. It's bulb was green. Holding it by the quartz handle, The Doctor aimed it. The button was housed in a black leather midsection. The bulb glowed an emerald green. He tossed the Sonic Screwdriver, letting it spin before he caught it again and slid it inside his inner breast pocket. "Thank you, sexy~" He winked at the console before standing away.

"We've got so many places to go... So many stars to see." He grinned brightly, that light in his eyes seemed restored. A light that had once been gone seemed rejuvenated, restored. He was eager, ready. He waited though, at the front doors. He leaned against it, the console. Perpetually caught in silence as he waited for his friend. Despite it all... 

He'd still rather head off with someone, than no one. And she'd endured so much.

She deserved a few more trips.

[samkat10423]

13 Poker Flats - 2

So, here’s the rest of Amy/Yukee’s house. 

I did change the floor and wall finishes here. Where you see all that purple, I think EA did it with royal blue - which gave me the idea for this room. So, the basic bathroom stuff was done by EA, only in blue. I upgraded her interior doors and changed the tiles on the floor and that printed area on the tile walls. Plus, I gave her a rug, that towel thingie from one of the stuff packs, and a hamper for her clothes. And some windows, which I may change.

In her kitchen I pretty much changed everything. EA went with a puke green and orangey color-scheme and had those base-game cabinets. So, even though Yukee is still fixated on purple, it’s not as nauseating as what was there. I did leave the laundry stuff as EA had it, since Yukee can’t afford to buy new. Plus, she likes it, because they match the green stripe in her plaid wallpaper. 

And this is her lovely bedroom! I did change the railing for something more modern - EA had a white wrought iron one - And I gave her a new wallpaper, which is a gradient purple. (Hard to tell here). 

And this is the deck off her bedroom. I did add some more windows here and gave her some deck lights. Plus, I added that drainpipe and somewhere, I added that electrical box.

Other than Sofia Carlton, Amy is the only sim I have ever played in Twinbrook. When I opened this town for the very first time, I chose her on a whim. I think it was her lovely wardrobe choices that caught my eye! Anyway, there was a weird sound, and she went outside to investigate it. While I was trying to figure out what the frack was going on, KABAM! She got squished by a meteor! Laughed my a** off. She’s the only one of my sims to ever get hit by one. A few have had a couple close calls, but only poor Amy got squished. But it put me off this town for a while. 

[innaneramblingsofamadman]

Chapter 2: Late Night Tea

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14200223/3/A-New-Alliance

Chapter 2: Late Night Tea

If you were to ask how the Addams manor in New Jersey looked, you’d receive various calls for haunted, a few pleas for gothic, and a chorus of magnificent. A monolithic home suited only for the Addams and those they allowed into its halls. This was not the case for the Reserve family home though, it was a massive log cabin crafted from smooth sanded oak logs, with massive awnings and tall ceilings. Furs lined the walls in a gargantuan living room near 3 stories high, with windows of equal height, a row of mounted head trophies ringed the semicircular space. Near the windows sat a shining black grand piano, and before that sat 3 couches in a half moon around a fireplace on the right wall. The left held what appeared to be a minibar, the walls lined with various bottles of spirits and wine. Down the hall to the right contained a large kitchen with cabinets made of the same oak, and charcoal gray granite countertops, an island lay in the middle with a large gas stovetop. To the left one could find the master suite, as well as a conference room, and a bathroom. 

The upstairs was far more simple, a balcony jutted out from the wall with a railing made of twisting branches, along the wall five separate doors sat closed and quiet. None of these rooms were remarkable; inside a queen size bed awaited with thick comforters to guard against the cold, a desk with spare pens and notebook, and an enchanted wardrobe designed to give the occupant the perfect outfit depending on the occasion. At the end of the balcony lay one extra door, in which came another enchanted room. The bathroom was enchanted so that any time the door was opened from the outside, the occupant would be moved to a liminal space mimicking the bathroom until they left, by doing this the house was insured against having too few bathrooms when many people were staying at once. What really tied the home together though was that all the strange angles of light, and conservative use of it as well, led to stretching deep shadows dancing along the walls and floor. A chandelier hung above it with all the candles lit in dancing flames that only added to the shadowy spectacle. 

But save the best for last, and only an Addams knows the truth in this, we come to the garden outside. Carpeted by bioluminescent moss, with mushrooms of all sizes and varieties lined up in neat and colorful rows, such an effect can only be upheld by magic as well, but it is the magic of the Keeper that allows these dark and damp loving little morsels to thrive in the dry environment. Beyond the garden rested a small lake where all manner of little devils called home, yet the water remained so still it shined like a mirror of the night sky. 

As both rider and hearse approached the building from the outside, Corvus let out a sharp whistle that rang clear and sharp into the mists. A moment later small blue flames lit up the edges of the driveway and led to an overhang where Lurch should park the vehicle. Inside though, Pubert was getting excited and jumping up and down on his seat as he peered out the window to watch the flames. But as soon as his eyes began to glaze over Morticia plucked him up and set him on her lap, out of sight of the little spirits outside.

“Be careful my little cat’s eye. The Will O’ Wisps are beautiful, but more than happy to trick you and lead you to your death, and I expect all my children to die in their 90’s at the youngest,” she ran her hand down the side of his cheek, “do you hear me my darling?”

“Yes mom.”

After pulling up to the house, Corvus led them on a quick tour of the building and showed each of them to their rooms while Lurch unpacked the car. Thing had crawled out of Wednesday’s pack and rested on her shoulder as they paced the echoing halls. Truth be told, it was far more comfortable and familiar than she had thought it would be. It had an eerie aura that all Addams homes tended to possess. She could see how care had been implemented into each facet of the cabin and that Corvus was going beyond his duties as Keeper by far. His singular goal and objective was to guard and report all things that Addams generations later down the line might need to solve mysteries or curses of their own without the same daunting task of months of research. In the basement, Wednesday knew the largest library of family journals and diaries was collected for this purpose alone. But Corvus had gone beyond that and turned the entire Reserve into a variable stockpile of magical components. With the land and beasts thriving as she had seen so far they could host an entire army of witches and never run dry of phantom tears, Grimm fangs, or gryphon blood.

Wednesday wanted into that library, there was no chance in her lifetime she’d find herself unprepared for a meeting such as this, she needed to learn everything about werewolves as she could in the time being to give her an edge. There were of course the obvious weaknesses she had learned from her father as a child; silver, wolfsbane, and fire were all good ways of either cornering or ending such a beast. But you had to get close to use those. She needed something that would manipulate or control them, something to perhaps make them more…agreeable, to her family’s terms in the new treaty. Whilst her mind had been wandering, Corvus finished the tour and said he would be in the kitchen making hemlock tea if anyone wished to join him.

First things first though, she needed a shower to wash off all of her parents' doting affection for each other that sat like a film on her skin from the long drive starting in New Jersey. It oozed off of them like tar. She excused herself to freshen up, giving Thing explicit instructions to stay in her room and check every corner of it for hidden passageways or places to hide things. Something deep in her soul, something she could feel was connected to her psychic power, was warning her the negotiations would last much longer than anticipated. Wednesday had brought this up with her mother once already, but Morticia had smiled and said her own abilities as a dove had offered no such warning, and that she felt things would go even better than expected. 

After her shower she changed into a pair of black pajamas and decided to go downstairs and have tea with Corvus after all, opting to not re-braid her hair just yet. Nobody but her family was allowed to see her looking anything less than murderous, and the twisted nature of her cousin made her all the more certain that he would take notice of the subtle show of respect she was offering by doing this. The older man was sitting on a barstool and leaned on the counter, one hand wrapped around a still boiling cup of tea while the other flicked through an old tome as though he had read it 7 times already. Perhaps he had, with a lifespan that long she could only imagine the amount of knowledge kept in the crypt of his mind. Her foot scuffed on the uneven flooring between the hallway and kitchen, and without so much as looking Corvus lifted a finger from his book. It traced a delicate rune in the air, leaving behind a trail of dark green in the air that seemed to pull in the light, and utensils began flying through the air as the magic took hold and brewed Wednesday a cup of her own tea that was then set down in front of the seat next to his. 

“Care to join me Wednesday? It’s the perfect night for a good read.” 

“I’d be more than happy, so long as I’m not interrupting your routine.” He chuckled a bit at that, and placed a bookmark in the old journal before turning to her. In the dark of the night outside she had assumed his eyes had been the same dark brown as the rest of the family, but she could now see her assumption had been wrong. Corvus’s eyes were not just black, they were all black. Pupil, iris, sclera, the entirety were black as the night with the same green sheen you’d find on a beetle’s carapace as the light reflected off of them. 

“There’s no routine to ruin, not for family. I’m not allowed many visitors out here so I welcome every opportunity to speak with someone other than Rue.”

“Rue? I wasn’t aware anybody else lived out here.” Wednesday’s confusion was plain on her face, and it made Corvus let out a dry laugh. Another rune traced through the air and all the windows crept open, and he let out a sharp whistle similar to the one from before, but with a musical melody reminding her of Frank Sinatra’s ‘My Way.’ Out in the darkness of the night came a keening screech, a moment later a small creature sat perched on the windowsill by the sink. It had the head of a great horned owl, with razor sharp talons, and wings stretching out from its shoulders. The body reminded her of a bobcat, large and covered with ashy gray fur with a long curling tail tipped in black. “What is it?”

“She’s a gryphowl, a subsidiary family of gryphons and hippogriffs. They’re endangered now as their blood is easier to harvest than that of their larger family members, and twice as potent. They all share the same amount of magical energy you see, regardless of size, and it causes the magic in a gryphowls blood to condense to fit in such a small package,” Corvus raised his hand and it walked across the counter, leapt onto the island, and rubbed its face against his finger. “She’s as close to a familiar as I’ll ever get, I’ve been taking care of her since she was no bigger than my finger.”

“Fascinating,” Wednesday sat down next to her cousin, held a flat hand out to Rue, and waited. Rue sniffed at her at first, before rubbing her face up and down along Wednesday’s arm before flopping onto one side and resting her head in Wednesday’s palm. “What do you mean by ‘closest you’ll get to a familiar’? All witches have a familiar, it comes with being a witch.” He sucked in a deep breath and nodded at that, a pained expression overcoming his face.

“That’s true enough, but I’m afraid I must be the exception to that rule,” he began to pet the sleek gray fur and check Rue’s toes for barbs, “but an Addams familiar is one and the same as who the curse of love picks for them. Many of our family witches have supernatural partners with animal-like forms or instincts. Your great great aunt Liza was a witch of the highest order, and her husband Leopold was a very powerful werewolf. He served as both the object of her curse and her power.”

“And because you are the Keeper, you’re never allowed to find love,” Wednesday finished.

“That’s right, the only thing that can kill an Addams and make it stick is the loss of our love. Since I cannot love, I cannot die. At least not by any natural or easily obtained supernatural means. Beyond even that, I am a cross between two old and powerful witch bloodlines. My mother was an Addams, as you know, but my father came from a family of green witches known as the Enfants de la Décadence.”

“The Children of Decay,” Wednesday translated the french, and slipped her hand out from under Rue’s head to take a sip of her tea, “what’s the difference between the two?”

“The two of what?”

“What we are and what your father was, what is a green witch? I’ve heard of them but never met one.”

“You have an inquisitive young mind, for sure. A green witch will often forge their own connection or what they refer to as ‘the path,’ to whatever energies within nature most call to them. Some find deity work to their liking, others get along well with bogs or rainforests and use plants to their benefit, and the Children of Decay specialized in all things in nature that broke down the dead, returning their energy to the earth. Mushrooms, fungus, mycelium, insects, mold, scavengers, these are the things my powers tend to relate to. As well as a penchant for simple runic magic granted to me by my mother.”

“I see, thank you for clarifying,” she said and took another sip. Behind her eyes thoughts swirled together and blended in a haphazard sorting system. So green witch blood must also be the reason he looks so young after all this time, no Addams has lived past the age of 80 without at least a few white hairs. Yet he stands here after 200 years not looking a day over maybe 24. “I tend to ask many questions, if it ever becomes overbearing or bothersome please inform me so I can satiate my curiosity with other means.”

“I’ll be sure to, so long as you bring anything of import to me first. You may rule the family one day, but for now little cousin, this is my territory and I know all the secrets it holds. Speaking of which,” from the pocket of his vest he produced a large silver key, inlaid with a large sapphire at the end, “this will give you full access to the library to use at your discretion. Take care of the library and it will take care of you, it’s more alive than you might think.” Corvus winked and picked up his tea, scooping up Rue in his other arm. “I think it’s late enough now that if I don’t sleep, I may just miss the Sinclair’s arrival tomorrow. Goodnight Wednesday, sleep well.”

“Goodnight Corvus, thank you for speaking with me,” she stood with her hands behind her back, “it was enlightening to say the least.” He nodded to her with a wry grin, and began the walk down the hall to his own room. 

Tomorrow was both a nerve-wracking thought and an eager chance to prove herself, the restlessness had already gotten into her bones and made a new home for itself. Tonight she would not sleep, she would delve into the library and find any and all information she could on werewolves from her ancestors' personal accounts. 

Tonight she would feast on knowledge like a man starved for weeks.

[seawolvesanddragons]

AWAE 12 Days of Christmas Countdown - Day 8

Marilla has knitted several things for various loved ones over the years. Now that they’re older, Anne and Jerry decide to try and return the favor. 

The first time Marilla finds herself knitting Anne a new hat she insists it's only because the current one is so shabby. It wouldn’t do for her new charge to be catching cold every time she had to leave the castle. 

And besides, she needed a new knitting project. Green Gables had plenty of blankets, it didn’t need any more. 

She was partially through the hat when she decided she might as well do a scarf to go along with it. For Anne’s health, of  course. Her current hat and scarf was more tatters than fabric, as apparently the orphanage didn’t place a high value on their children not freezing to death. 

(As a caretaker of multiple charges herself, Marilla found such oversight lazy and despicable.) 

She was almost done with the scarf, its matching hat lying neatly next to it, when Marilla noticed the colors. 

Out of habit, she had grabbed the yellow and black yarn. Understandable, as the Cuthberts were from a long line of Huffepuffs. 

Really, a scarf was a scarf and a hat was a hat. The purpose was to keep Anne warm in the winter, not boast her house for all to see. That was what the school uniforms were for. 

But Marilla had seen Jane Andrews own bronze colored hat and goves, and Diana Barry had been dressed in blue since she was a mere babe. Marilla remembered her own days at Hogwarts, were she and Rachel had enjoyed charming as much of their belongings as they could yellow and black in a fit of house pride. 

Anne already had such a hard time fitting in. Perhaps a show of house pride wouldn’t go amiss. 

Besides, Marilla might have some leftover blue and bronze yarn from when Rachel’s daughter was expecting and really it was only practical that she use it up. And while Marilla didn’t hold with vanity, yellow and black would clash with Anne’s  hair terribly.

Matthew raised an eyebrow at her that evening, when he saw her detangling the blue yarn. 

“Not a word Matthew Cuthbert,” Marilla warned. 

“I dinnae say anything,” her brother shrugged. “Just wondering what you’ll do with the other one now.” He gestured to the completed scarf and hat next to her, almost blending in with the family banket. 

Truthfully, Marilla hadn’t thought about that yet. The scarf and hat were too small for her or her brother to use, and all of the Lynde’s children (who for years had been the main recipients of Marilla’s knitting projects) were grown and gone. And it was hardly as if Twycross was going to put another child at Green Gables for Marilla and Matthew to have to adopt. 

Though, there was another eleven year old at Hogwarts whose winter wardrobe was solely lacking. 

“It can go to Jerry Baynard,” Marilla decided. “After all, waste not. Give it to him next time you take the both of them into the forest, Matthew. And do try not to make a fuss over it; we don’t want to embarrass the poor lad.” 

“Huh,” Matthew said, considering. “I don’t reckon I’m the one fussin’ over here.” 

Marilla pretended not to hear him. Honestly, brothers could be such a trial. She should point that out to Anne next time the girl waxes on about the enviable “bond between siblings.” 

*

Her next knitting project takes her most of the summer. Blankets normally did. And whatever Matthew might think, it was entirely practical. He had never been up in Ravenclaw tower, he had not a clue how drafty and cold it got up there! It would be just like three twelve year old girls to fall asleep with the windows open and wake up frozen the next day. 

No, Anne would need a blanket, a thick one. And Marilla needed more yarn anyway, she just happened to pick blue and bronze up. 

No, Matthew, she was not over mothering. 

Though, they did owe Jerry for helping them out over the summer. The Hufflepuff common rooms were far too warm to need an extra blanket (a point Marilla prided herself on) but perhaps a nice jumper wouldn't go amiss. 

*

By fourth year, Marilla had given up any pretenses. She was a mother, with one official charge and one unofficial charge whose hats and scarves were torn one too many times from unsupervised explorations of the forest. 

So a new set of gloves and hats and scarves were churned out, along with a special pair of gloves for each; ruby red for Anne, dark purple for Jerry. 

“For school, are they?” Matthew asked with a knowing smile. 

“They’re old enough now to require some gloves that aren’t based on their Hogwarts house colors,” Marilla sniffed. “A bit of individuality and color never hurt anyone.” 

*

Fifth year, Bash received a dark green scarf (so that you’ll stop complaining about the cold, Sebastian!) for Christmas, while Muriel was given a pair of hand knit lavender gloves. 

Phineas looked at Marilla suspiciously over his brand new navy hat. 

“You’ve gone soft,” he accused.

“Fiddlesticks,” Marilla huffed. “You sound like my brother. Utter nonsense.” 

*

Their last Christmas Morning as Hogwarts students, Anne and Jerry presented Marilla with a neatly wrapped package, eager smiles on their faces. 

Marilla pulled at the delicate twine holding the wrapping together (Anne’s work, no doubt). The paper fell away, leaving a multi-colored, heavy looking swarth of knitted wool in its place. 

“My word,” Marilla said, running her hands over fabric. It was softer than even her coziest of blankets. 

“Its a blanket!” Jerry explained excitedly. “Anne and I made it. Well, technically you made it too..”

“What Jerry means to say,” Anne interrupted, as Marilla looked confusedy between the two. “Is that the blanket is made from all of your old knitting gifts.” She pointed at the far edge of the blanket, where two yellow and black squares were offset by a blue an bronze one. “Those are from the first scarves you made us, plus an old one of Matthews. And there, that’s part of Jerry’s jumper, and over there is part of the baby blanket you made Mrs. Lynde when she had her first child-” 

“They went all over Hogsmeade,” Matthew said softly, a gentle look in his eyes as he nodded toward the blanket. “Collected up bits and pieces from just about everything you ever knitted.” 

“Well, I never,” Marilla said, blinking rapidly. There was moisture in her eyes that threatened to overflow. “What a thoughtful gift.” 

It was colorful, certainly, full of reds and blues, purples and golds, silver and greens and so much yellow Marilla wondered it didn’t hurt to look at. But the colors blended far better than Marilla would have guessed. It was a pattern of all the love and warmth and hope Marilla put out into the world, wrapped up into one gorgeous blanket. It felt like home. 

[loveinthevalley]

Chapter 1

The gentle warmth of sunlight on my face was the thing to wake me up. I took a deep breath and stretched the blanket above my head in an attempt to shield myself from the offending glare. The soft down was immediately unfamiliar. This wasn’t the cheap Amazon blanket I was used to. I snapped up with a gasp and darted my eyes around the room.

Where the fuck am I.

I was surrounded by quaint cabin walls and a window with wooden blinds to my left. The room was rather spacious with nothing but a wardrobe and nightstand with a blue vase containing yellow flowers. If this was a kidnapping, I supposed the accommodations could be worse. I took note that my wrists and ankles were, in fact, free and I was not chained up. 

I took one more glance around the room trying to steady my thoughts and quietly look for clues. My eyes locked onto something poking out of the arrangement next to me. Embedded in the flowers appeared to be a card. My heart began to pick up speed again as I reached for the small piece of paper expecting some Jigsaw-esque instructions and an explanation as to why I was there. What I found was almost worse as it explained absolutely nothing: written in delicate cursive on blank cardstock were the words, “Welcome to the Valley!

The valley? What valley? As in San Fernando? Had someone kidnapped me and brought me to California? How the hell did I sleep through being dragged halfway across the country?! I listened carefully to check if I could hear anything in the house. I held my breath for what felt like minutes before I finally determined there was nothing but the birds outside the window. Whoever had done this to me certainly felt comfortable enough to leave me alone

I let my legs fall over the side of the bed and carefully pressed my bare feet against the wood floor. There was a creak and I hesitated, once again listening for anyone who might have heard. Once I felt safe, I stood up and tentatively approached the window and proceeded to open the blinds.

It certainly seemed like I was in the middle of nowhere. The sun was up but still relatively low. It must have been around 8:00 in the morning. The sunlight streamed through a smattering of trees, but just beyond them, I could make out a dirt road leading into the distance. This certainly didn’t look like California, but if it was it would be in bum-fuck nowhere. However, a dirt road meant something at least. Civilization couldn’t be too far. If I could get a head start before whoever brought me here came back, I might be able to get help.

I made my way around the bed to the other side of the room. There was no door leading to the rest of the house, just an opening. Before proceeding, I realized there could still be anyone waiting for me around the corner. I grabbed the blue vase and held it tightly in both hands. This would have to do. I crept through the doorway – each step making a loud creak. If there was someone here, they knew I was up now.

The room adjacent was a living room with a fireplace, television, and a small table with a single chair tucked under it. A modest kitchen also resided at the other end of the room. And that was it. There was nothing else to the cabin. There were no other rooms and the only door was at the front of the house. I was all alone. With a sigh of relief, I placed the vase down on the table.

My relief was short-lived, however, as an unsettling feeling crept over me. Why does this place feel so familiar? Two things gave it away: the gray and white tile delineating the kitchen from the living room, and the ornate, rust-colored rectangular rug in front of the TV. I approached the rug with disbelief. No way. I would recognize that stupid pattern from anywhere. Dozens of save files. Hundreds of hours of playtime. Sure, some of it was a bit different, but that stupid rug was just the same.

I ran back into the other room, no longer concerned about the volume of my footsteps. Instinctively, I looked at the wardrobe next to the window. This was different. Maybe I could find a clue. Something, anything that would disprove the unhinged thoughts rushing through my head. I whipped the doors open and saw only a few clothing pieces hanging up and some boots sitting on the bottom. I began rifling through the flannel shirts and overalls looking for an explanation. The last thing I looked at was a tattered men’s leather jacket. In one pocket was a wallet, and in the other was a folded-up letter:

If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change. The same thing happened to me, long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life... real connections with other people and nature. So, I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

The letter slipped through my fingers and I began to feel light-headed. I steadied myself against the bed and sat down. Staring at my hands in my lap…I began to laugh.

What a strange dream to be so lucid in. I haven’t even played this game in weeks. I closed my eyes and attempted to fly. Might as well if I was lucid dreaming. But nothing happened. And how could I have such clear thoughts in a dream anyway? There must have been a different explanation…

Before I could think of anything else, a gentle knock rapped against the door. My heartbeat immediately raised again as the thought of some elaborate kidnapping came back to the forefront of my mind. If there was someone dangerous out there, I might as well face them head-on. I retrieved the vase from the table and crept toward the door placing my hand on the knob before realizing…the door was chain locked from the inside. Whoever was out there likely posed very little threat to me. Still confused, I set the vase down and turned the knob opening the door just enough to catch the chain.

A man with a gray mustache wearing a brown newsboy hat greeted me on the other side of the door. You have got to be kidding me. He had a warm smile but was clearly confused by my caution. 

“Good morning, neighbor!” he chirped. His head tilted to the side as he tried to look around the room. 

“Hello…” I responded, instinctively blocking his view. He then looked me up and down.

“Hope I didn’t wake you! I figured you’d be up and about pretty early to catch as much daylight as possible.” I then realized I was still wearing my pajamas. They were the ones I had put on the night before. He extended a hand through the gap. “Name’s Lewis. I’m the mayor here in Pelican Town! Pleased to meet you, Love.” I stared down at his hand. Wait. “Love?” Gross. Why is he calling me that?  If I was going to get answers, I was going to have to play along. I grabbed his hand firmly.

“It’s good to be here, sir.” I released his grip, closed the door slightly, and removed the chain giving the door free reign to swing open.

“No ‘sirs’ necessary!” he chuckled. “I’d like to think we’re all family here in Pelican Town.” With nothing blocking his view, he looked around the room. His face lit up with a smile. “I see you got our welcome gift.” I followed his gaze to the flowers on the table. 

“Oh! That was from you?”

“Just think of it as a gift from all of us,” he replied. “The vase and flowers were sourced from talented folks around town. I even got someone to write the card. I should have been a doctor with how bad my handwriting is,” he chuckled. “It’s rare we get someone new in town. We’re all very excited to meet you.”

This didn’t seem like some delusional stalker. He was completely earnest. My mind raced with questions needing answers, but if he was serious, I would look like a lunatic. I needed to be subtle. Who would be the first person who might have answers for me?

“I can’t wait to meet everyone. My grandfather told me so much about all of you.” The Mayor’s smile dropped and his eyes softened.

“I’m sorry for your loss, dear. Your grandfather meant a lot to the people here. He was a fine man.” I did my best to put on a sympathetic smile, but it wasn’t easy considering I had not lost anyone.

“It’s been difficult, but I think I’ll feel closer to him now that I’m here.” It was time to use the conversation to my advantage and find out more about the ‘rules’ of this world I’d been thrown into. “One person he mentioned was Rasmodius. Does he live close by?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“I didn’t know your grandfather was close to the Wizard.” That was my answer. Magic is…canon? Is that the word I should use here? Surely if anyone knew what was going on it would be him. If my “grandfather” wasn’t close with him, I would have to think quickly of an excuse.

“I don’t know much about their friendship to be honest. He left me a letter and mentioned how much the Wizard knew about the Valley and that he might be able to help me settle in.” I hoped this would be convincing enough to get him off my case. Mayor Lewis shrugged.

“I s’pose so. I’d say you could learn a lot by talking to just about anyone in town, but if you want to talk to the Wizard he’s about a 45-minute walk toward the southwest. Need someone to show you the way?” I didn’t want company, but I had to admit I wasn’t eager to get lost in some unknown forest.

“I think I should be fine. Mind drawing me a map?” Lewis reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved a pen and a small notepad.

“You’re lucky my memory’s not what it used to be. That’s the only reason I carry a pen and paper on me.” He began to crudely sketch the path to Rasmodius’s tower. It was just how I expected it to look. Once he finished, he tore the paper off and handed it to me. 

“Mind if I keep the pen? I moved in with just about nothing.”

“Sure thing, Love. Actually, keep the whole notepad too. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of planning to do to get this place up and running.” I took the pen and notepad. I’d need to collect my thoughts somehow if I was going to figure out how I got here and how I was going to leave.

“I appreciate the warm welcome, but I’ve got plenty to get to!”

“Oh, I won’t keep ya. Come into town and chat me up any time if you need anything.” The Mayor gave me a smile and a nod and made his way off the porch. 

It was as he was leaving that I finally got a chance to take in my surroundings. An expansive plot of land sprawled out before me, much larger than I could have guessed. Oh my god. This is real. A crude fence surrounded the entire plot of land which appeared to be somewhere around 10 acres. To the west of the house was a large, rundown barn. Toward the south was a dirt path leading out of the property and into the woods. East was the dirt road I had seen earlier along with what appeared to be a tool shed. Scattered across the property were several plots of what appeared to be once-tilled soil now overgrown with weeds.

Feeling overwhelmed, I shut the door, retreated inside, and set the pen and notepad on the table. I returned to the bedroom and changed into a pair of work pants and a red flannel shirt. Looking at myself in the wardrobe mirror, I couldn’t say this was my typical style, but I had to fit in. Besides, it was all I had. I approached the front door in my boots and took a deep breath. I can’t put this off. I need some answers. I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

[withoutaclue]

The beginning of March

It’s day two of spring break, March 3. I have began to romanticize my life, and it has made all the difference in the mundane things. I have new clothes for the spring strewn about my warm living room. The accents of colorful rock n roll décor complimenting the bright patterns of my future wardrobe. One of my favorite items being a blue dress with white flowers. This blue an intense and deep color, one so rare the color alone sold me on the article of clothing. I bought these clothes the first day of spring break. A treat to myself which simultaneously promises things to come. I ride to my parents home to pick up my beautiful son with the windows down, the music up, and my hand dangling outside the window as I drive, surfing the force of air. The air is just starting to become warm for the season. It felt perfect filling up my car with a hint of humidity while the sun sets. David Bowie and Two Door Cinema Club escape where my tinted windows once were. I feel so blissful, for once, I can’t help but smile and shriek and I don’t even mind who is looking or riding my ass because I’m not speeding. It has been so long since I felt so uninhibited. The last time I recall this feeling of freedom was from almost a decade ago when I was around 15 years old. The sky was now newly dark, but the streets were filled with lights on my way to my parents house. From store lights, street lights, head lights, taillights, star lights, moon light. The first day of spring break was successful. 

Today, my second day of spring break, I did nothing but wish I could wear my new wardrobe as I got dressed in my pizza delivery uniform. I deliver pizza for hours and leave the store with a little over $100. I’ve worked there a week and have already had to deliver pizza to my ex boyfriend twice. The highlight of my work day was throwing around a football as the sun set before the rush of dinner time customers. I thought it was interesting delivering pizza to a cement factory. Now I lay in bed, contemplating what to read before I fall asleep. The wind blows strong tonight, reminding me of my nightmares this morning of a water spout coming on shore towards me. The highlight of my overall day was eating chicken wings for dinner with my parents. I dread work tomorrow but look forward to the days this week I have nothing to do.

[drvnkd4zed]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ beyond the stars || Lee Heeseung

2

The boys welcomes me with a big hug once we're out of the airport. The air of Mokpo goes right inside my nostrils, reminding me of the ocean and the big variety of entertainment featured in the city. The moment I face Heeseung, a weird feeling crosses my eyes. He takes few steps towards me, smiling, knowing that I missed him. "I know what you've done with Jay" he whispers to my ear. The hot breath of his caresses my neck, giving me goosebumps. Niki sees us from the side, giggling and smirking. "The car I rented is round the corner, let's go" Sunghoon says as he grabs his luggage. I watch the others going first, staring at them walking. They've done all of this so I could rest and find a haven somewhere, a place where we could come and have fun from time to time.

We enter the big house we booked for the week, it looks like a luxurious one, full of marble forniture and lots of modern items around the rooms. Jungwon and Jay run to the biggest tv I've ever seen first, trying to turn it on as soon as they left the baggage at the entrance. "We're playing lots of games here!" Jungwon says. I roll my eyes back, taking off my jacket. I suddenly feel Heeseung's hand on my shoulder, which makes me turn to look towards him. "Let's find a bedroom for us" he whispers, taking my hand. He leads me around the house, asking me which room I like the best. Every room has a gold number on the door, just like in the hotels, it makes this house even more chic. The first one, is a big room for two which owns red walls, red blankets and lots of painting with frames made of gold. It looked like a room for a king and a queen.

the second one is even bigger, there's a big walk-in wardrobe, all colored in blue. blue walls, blue bed, blue tents. I feel like I'm at the bottom of the sea while being there. Us two move to the third one, which is yellow. yellow is happiness and brightness, so I kinda want to have this one, after lots of grey skies and souls. "I know you'd like to sleep here" he says as he tightens the hold of my hand. "This room is so big and... yellow" I say as we get out. The fourth room is kind of... cold and sad. No artworks on the walls, just a tiny ass window covered in dust with two white beds. I open the wardrobe to see what's inside, but there's only dust and insects. Someone enters the room making me startle a little. "We're playing a game to decide the rooms" Jake says as he gets our attention. "Aren't we choosing the rooms?" I ask very confused. "Not really" he answers.

"How does this work? make it quick" Jay says as he sits on the couch. "We're throwing the dice to decide which rooms we're going into, if you get 5&6 you'll go last and throw again" Jake explains, taking a dice out of his pocket. "This is so stupid, why can't we just choose the rooms?" Sunoo asks. "Which room do you want?", all of them answering "the red one" kinda makes me laugh. "see? I'm avoiding fights" Jake states. Jay takes the dice out of Jake's hands, rolling and throwing it right after. "I got a 2" he says. It means he got the blue room, the biggest one which is upstairs. Jay takes his bags and goes upstairs without saying a word, he probably doesn't like the idea of choosing the rooms like this. Sunoo grabs the dice from the floor, throwing it and getting a 1. "Sunoo in that... romantic room?" Sunghoon asks, very shocked. "You jealous?" Sunoo replies. Sunghoon angrily throws the dice, getting a 3. "Fuck, we all got different rorooms" says sunghoon.

"Niki, go ahead", right when my words left my mouth Niki gets a 1, realizing he's sleeping with Sunoo. " Oh God, I can't tell if I'm lucky or not" Niki states as he grabs his bags. "Goodbye" he whispers dramatically, following Sunoo to the left stairs. Only me, Jake, Jungwon and Heeseung are left. "Jungwon, you haven't said a word yet" Heeseung says. "I'm fine sleeping with anyone" he replies. Jake hands the dice to Jungwon, suggesting that he should throw it first. "4" Jungwon states. Jungwon said he was fine sleeping with anyone, I'm sad that he got the dusty room. Anyways, I am more concerned about who I am sleeping with. "Y/n, do you want to throw it now?" Jake asks. "I want to be last" I answer, determined in my tone. "I'll go!"Heeseung smiles and takes the dice, kissing it before throwing it to the floor. " Two 4 in a row!" Jake shouts. "I'm surprised we got no 5&6, it looks like we were destined to play this game" I reply. Heeseung takes his bags downstairs and after few seconds of only hearing his steps, a loud bang echoes in the main room. It's only me and Jake now, staring at each other. He moves a streak of my hair behind my ear, caressing my cheeks. "J-Jake..." I stutter. I see him biting his lower lip, then his eyes fall to my chest, just like his hands. He starts unbuttoning my top, revealing and revealing more. Before I could realize, my hands are on the buttons of his pants. "We have few minutes until the members finish unpacking their stuff". Even if I know I shouldn't let him have me, Jake makes my heart run fast. "Get on your knees" he orders. I'm about to kneel when I hear footsteps from the stairs at the right. "Jake and Y/n aren't done yet?" we hear someone shouting, most likely to be Jay who only wants to sleep.

"Let's do this quickly and forget what just happened" I say as I botton up my top. My mind's confused. Even if these days I only have to relax and think positive, living through the good vibes, the boys are making it hard to me. Niki appears from the corner, playing with his Nintendo. "Damn, I've unpacked everything already and you two haven't found a room yet. So sad" he says as he walks to the kitchen, not raising an eye. "I got 2" Jake says as the dice hit the floor. "I'm sleeping with Jay, so...". I pout as I grab my bags, carrying them to the room 3, the one that I wanted. When I enter the room, Sunghoon is laying on the bed while reading a book. " Oh, it's you" he says. "If you're disappointed that I'm here, you can go" I reply. Sunghoon looks back at the book and sighs. Right when I put the bags on the floor, my phone vibrates again. "Doesn't matter where we're sleeping tonight, I'm thinking of you".

taglist: @rikisnuggie

hope you liked this chapter!

[itsonlydana]

Hey it's the Anon that requested the Eret, Foolish and Immortal!reader ask, I was wondering if you could do a fluff verson of it? Also can I be 🌌 Anon?

"surprise" ➷ Eret & Foolish

or: the god, the king and their immortal lover

➛ pairing: c!Eret x c!Foolish x gn!immortal!reader

➛ idea: Eret, Foolish and Immortal!reader that got engaged hundreds of years ago

↳ first request (angst)

➛ tags/warnings: fluff

➛ an: of course! Welcome 🌌- anon! Hope you enjoyed both versions.

"What do you think she would want?"

You looked from the large selection of necklaces to the small table in front of which Foolish stood. Small wooden boxes filled with different kinds of rings stood on the red tablecloth, narrower ones with fine stones, thicker ones with bigger ones, diamonds, emeralds, gold or some even with netherite, some with engraving, classic rings, extravagant ones. They all looked beautiful, you could see with what care the little old lady with the crooked back behind the table had worked on them but none of the rings really matched Eret.

"I don't know" You stepped closer to Foolish, who was bent over the boxes, pointing to a plain silver ring. "Nah, she needs something special." you murmured thoughtfully, thinking of the fine dresses and suits that were in Eret's wardrobe. Even if Foolish probably cared most about your appearances, Eret was still careful to always appear well-dressed, and you could never give her a plain ring because of that.

At your words, the older lady had lifted her head. It startled you slightly, the way she had been sitting in her chair before, you had thought she was asleep and now you felt a little ashamed for having called the rings nothing "special" in front of her.

Her wrinkled face contorted into a surprised expression as she seemingly recognized Foolish and you, the old blue eyes widening. Foolish didn't get any of this, he was busy looking at the rings further ahead, the ones with the emeralds had naturally caught his attention, but a light kick to his feet made him look up.

"Oh, hello!" he greeted the lady in a friendly manner, pointing to the rings. "Do you by any chance have the possibility to have a ring specially made? I'm afraid we can't find one to match our partner."

His ability to talk freely with strangers was one thing you admired about Foolish, not only because it was the reason you were together today in the first place, but he never had trouble starting conversations and charmed everyone with his dazzling smile. He had a talent for wrapping people around his fingers, his beauty and divine charisma being a decisive factor.

The woman seemed to fall for this charm immediately, pointing up the street with a slightly shaky hand. "Go four houses down to my grandson's house, there where the blacksmith's shop is. Is there anything I can do to help you before then?"

Your eyes fell again on the necklace you had examined earlier, golden with a small sword pendant, in whose hilt an emerald was set. Carefully you lifted it up and handed it to the lady. Foolish picked up a wide upper bracelet adorned with emeralds as well, giving you a gentle smile as your purchases were packed into two dark wooden boxes.

"That will be one hundred gold pieces"

Without batting an eye, Foolish took out more gold pieces than requested from his wallet and exchanged them for the bag of your newly acquired jewelry.

"Thank you very much," the lady bowed as best she could with her back. "May the sun always shine on your way my highnesses".

Gratefully nodding to her, you reached for Foolish's hand as you turned and followed her advice.

It was a sunny day, the narrow village street was filled with people looking at the small stalls and stores or just walking over the cobblestones. You could understand, the village was one of your favorite places in Eret's kingdom, with its winding houses and their dark crossbeams and colorful inviting shop windows. There were garlands strung from house wall to house wall, potted plants on the windowsills, or cats lolling in the midday sun.

Foolish and you had left Eret to her work after your breakfast together and had ridden to the village for an trip, but it had not been planned that the visit to the village would end with the idea of buying engagement rings.

"I'm sure Eret will be very pleased" Foolish squeezed your hand tighter, as if he had heard your thoughts.

Smiling, you nodded, leaning closer to him so you could walk past a family who immediately waved at you. With your free hands, you waved back. It was still foreign to you to be treated differently, but since you had entered Foolish and Eret's relationship, your life had changed, and somehow you liked that people smiled at you or wanted to talk to you when you walked in the village.

If it hadn't been for Foolish's pulling, you would have missed the forge, distracted by the people looking at you.

The blacksmith store was different from the other stores, instead of a front wall of the house, it was open, giving a view of the stone interior. In the center of the room stood an anvil on a tree stump, around it barrels upon barrels of axes and pickaxes, and to your right was a stone trough in which lava bubbled menacingly, the source of the glowing heat that flowed toward you as you entered.

Bending over the anvil stood a man, perhaps a few years older than you, dressed in a black apron that protected him from the spraying sparks of the axe he was beating into shape. His brown hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and he looked at you through one of the strands, indicating you to wait with a nod of his head while he dipped the axe into a barrel filled with water, whereupon a huge cloud of steam rose, it hissed for a few seconds before he pulled out the now dark and finished axe and put it away.

"How can I help you, your highnesses? Do you desire something special?" The blacksmith removed his gloves, smiling a welcoming smile at both of you.

Foolish put an arm around your shoulders, visibly showing the man that you were taken, which made you roll your eyes internally. "Your grandmother told us you could make us a ring for our partner, do you have time for that or should we come back another time?"

He didn't even have to ask that last part, almost anyone would kick any customer out of the store for the king's partners and yet you appreciated Foolish for asking.

"Of course, what is your wish?"

A few hours later, you jumped off your horse from behind Foolish, the bag with the precious wooden boxes pressed tightly to your chest. Foolish followed you just as hurriedly, almost tripping over his long legs with excitement as you ran across the castle courtyard. You ran up the quartz steps at the entrance, through the empty entrance hall with its many paintings, down the corridors shining through the glittering colored window panes, until you arrived at the tall, closed black oak door, before which two guards in netherite armor stood.

Without having to voice your request, they stepped aside, opening the double doors so that you could enter your partner's study.

Behind the doors lay a large, -for Eret- barely furnished room with high windows, framed by long white curtains, in front of which stood a wide wooden bench with many small plants and a discarded crown on it. There were two tall bookshelves on the sides of the door, filled with books about wars, economics, and stories about countries you'd never heard of.

The walls were mostly blank, with only a few paintings of Foolish, Eret, and you hanging, and even those hung behind the large desk. A desk at which Eret sat bent over a book.

At your entrance, she lifted her head, slid a red bookmark into the book and set it down beside her steaming teacup, scooting back with her chair. Giggling, you ran to her, threw yourself on her lap and wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her into a deep kiss.

Eret laughed out, putting her arms around you to keep you from falling " Easy there, my love. Was your day that exciting?" She welcomed Foolish, who had sat down on the desk in front of you, with a kiss as well, lovingly nudging the tip of her nose against his, while at the same time stroking your back in circles, her fingernails gently pressing against your shirt.

"They've set up a little fairground in the marketplace for the beginning of summer, with a band and games for the kids," you told her, leaning on Eret's shoulder. "Can we go there again tonight? They plan to have handmade lanterns in the colors of the kingdom rise into the air once the sun has set. Can we please? I really want to see that."

After Eret's nod, you kissed her again, full of anticipation for an evening in the village with your lovers by your side, that you almost forgot why you had come home early.

It was only with the uncomfortable feeling of a wooden box pressing into your stomach between you and Eret that you remembered and your eyes began to sparkle. "Oh, and we bought engagement rings!" you exclaimed joyfully. Foolish nodded eagerly, helping you pull the bag over your head.

At first Eret didn't quite seem to believe you, as she watched you in confusion as Foolish pulled out the wooden boxes and placed them on the desk beside him. When he opened the first one and revealed his band, she gasped loudly, gripping you tighter in her lap.

Eret's white eyes widened in shock. "Oh heavens- you two are alone for a few hours, come back and want to get married? Sometimes I really wonder what goes on in your heads."

You could feel her breathing quicken and reassuringly you breathed a kiss on her cheek, which she leaned into. Her hand on your hip loosened a little, but she still looked uncertainly back and forth between you and Foolish.

Foolish, who had been happily dangling his legs until now, sternly placed a hand on her other cheek, clasping the porcelain skin in his large palm. "Think of it as a token of our love, not something that is official. We wanted to show you how important you are to us."

"Exactly," you agreed with him, smiling lovingly at Eret. "No one will know what they stand for, they look too different for anyone but us to understand that they belong together. Do you like to see them?"

Somewhat reluctantly, Eret nodded, but seemed to be slowly warming to the idea, for the corners of her mouth pulled up slightly at the sight of Foolish brushing the golden band up to his upper arm, where it fit like a glove.

He opened the next wooden box, the one with your necklace, which he immediately helped you put on. Like his band, the necklace suited you, the sword pendant lay directly in your décolleté, over which Eret stroked mesmerized.

You trembled under her touch, lost in the feel of fingernails on your skin, until Foolish opened the last box and Eret slapped her hands to her mouth.

"Surprise!"

"No, you didn't- How?", Eret stammered to herself, not quite managing to formulate clear sentences. Almost comically, her mouth fell open and you had to chuckle.

Your first reaction to the ring had been similar, speechless and unbelievable, you had stared at the golden ring with the emerald cut into a heart, already imagining how beautiful the delicate ring would look on Eret's elegant hands.

However, nothing could compare to reality. The ring sat perfectly on Eret's finger, gold on milky pure skin, expensive and noble, just like Eret herself.

Foolish leaned further forward, his muscles flexing under the band, and you felt heat rising in your cheeks. He caught your gaze, winking cheekily at you before turning his attention back to Eret. "Do you accept the gift? Say yes to our engagement?" he asked, playing with one of Eret's strands of hair that had fallen out of her braid.

"How could I say no to that?" Eret laughed softly, her gaze still on her new ring. "You guys are unbelievable. What happens if you're out on your own again? Can you even top this?"

"I wouldn't take that chance."