#we’ve only ever been nice and accommodating to her and she’s so nasty

[laufeysons]

i think being rude unprompted is the most flabbergasting thing

[whumpmatsus]

28 Kara is cute, one would say too cute to suffer. Not me. Maybe fic where he is feeling really sick, but being the quiet one he is forgotten for a while? Or something. Pls and thanks.

haha, nobody is EVER too cute to suffer here! including precious baby 18!Kara~ <3

I had fun with this, I hope you like it! c:

-

It’s pouring rain when the rest of the sextuplets come to walk Karamatsu home from the train station, and he doesn’t want to go out in it.

Today’s drama club meeting wasn’t a very good one. The teacher leading it got focused on the two lead actors for the play which the club is showing tomorrow night, because they were both fighting and at each other’s throats. Most of the others ignored Karamatsu in favor of being on their phones or reading magazines or running lines while the teacher was busy with the leads.

Finally, in a twist that puts the cherry on the horrible meeting sundae, despite the fact that he’s playing a small part, Karamatsu messed up his own lines every single time. The others were so irritated with him, he wished the floor would just swallow him up.

Usually he’s so good with acting. It’s something he’s passionate about and enjoys and takes pride in. Today… it’s not that he’s nervous about the production. It’s that he just feels awful.

He’s been tired since he woke up, he’s warm and clammy at the same time, his throat is scratchy, he keeps coughing and sneezing, and any part of his body that doesn’t have a specific complaint is simply achy. Mommy noticed that he wasn’t feeling well when she sent them all to school, but he begged her not to keep him home, and since he didn’t have a fever this morning, she let him go.

There’s… definitely a fever running through him now, though. He thought for sure his brothers would notice and maybe ask him if there was anything they could do; instead, he’s been behaving so normally as far as they’re concerned, with his quiet nature and tendency to cry over small things, that not a single one of them has picked up on it.

On top of everything else, he forgot his umbrella. It was supposed to be sunny today, so he had to walk from school to the train without one, and now when he gets out of the station, he has to go out into the rain with barely any protection.

Although he’s crying by the time he reaches his brothers, it blends in pretty well with the rain.

Thankfully, all his brothers are carrying umbrellas, so he huddles under Osomatsu’s and presses himself against his older brother’s side. Osomatsu immediately accommodates him, pulling Karamatsu in to get dry. “Hey, bro! Geez, you’re shaking like a leaf. Sorry you didn’t have your umbrella!” He chuckles and tousles Karamatsu’s hair. “That’s what you get for picking a nerd hobby that’s right after school so you don’t have time to go home and get anything.”

“Don’t listen to him, Kara ― your hobby is just fine,” Choromatsu hums. He’s busy trying to entertain Totty, who’s doing his damnedest to attach himself to Choromatsu’s hip. “Now, guys, it’s raining out here, so can we please go home and get some tea? If we stay out here much longer, we’re gonna catch colds, and I do not want to be sick for graduation.”

Jyushimatsu scoffs. “That’s still two weeks away. We’d be fine, dumbass.”

Choromatsu’s face turns bright red. “W-well, if you’re fine getting sick regardless, you can go jump in the puddles for all I care!”

A smile briefly flashes across the second youngest’s face. “Really??” And just like that, he’s back to looking constantly angry. “Naaah… that shit’s for babies!”

They all begin to walk, and Ichimatsu shakes his head. “Ah, Karamatsu-nii-san… some of my friends wanted to come see that play tomorrow. What time does it start, again?”

“U-uh.” Karamatsu sniffles a few times, nuzzling against Osomatsu’s shoulder. “7 P.M. for the first one. Then there’s another showing at… at 8:30. I… don’t know if I’m… going to go, though.”

“What??” Choromatsu frowns as the six of them stop for the crosswalk. “You’ve never had stage fright before. You’ll be fine once you get up on the stage.”

“I don’t know, Choro…”

“Oh, come on, Kara-nii-san. Don’t cry like that… you made a commitment! You don’t wanna let your club down, right?”

Karamatsu reaches up to try and wipe the tears away. Not only is it kind of ineffective because his rain-soaked bangs keep dripping down his face, his hand keeps brushing against parts of his acne as he tries, which is painful. “Y-yeah, but…”

Osomatsu gives his little brother a squeeze that he thinks is supposed to be reassuring. It’s a bit rough, though. “No ‘but’s unless you’re grabbing a girl’s butt, Kara! You got this! You’ve done this shit before and totally nailed it. You usually don’t have too many lines, anyway, so it’s not that bad, is it?”

God, he should have a little more backbone. He should be able to say things decisively and not just fall silent when his brothers push him like this. Actually, if he just managed to say outright that he’s sick, they wouldn’t even be saying anything like this stuff. Right now they just think it’s pre-curtain jitters, which happens, which they can usually shake him out of because they know he loves acting.

Funnily enough, even though he doesn’t have much of a spine himself, this crappy cold of his evidently thinks this is the perfect time to speak up. The congestion he’s been fighting blossoms into something insistent that he can’t ignore, and he quickly ducks his face down between his hands.

“― Hh’DSHH! Hah’DTchh! Hd’TCHHuu! Ahh’DTSCHhhoo!”

A volley of coughs rides on the tail end of the last sneeze, so much that he can barely get a breath in. Each one makes his all-over soreness sharpen for a second, unbearable pinpricks of pain across his whole body. The coughs make something in his chest crackle and it hurtsand suddenly he’d pulled into a protective hug.

Part of him wishes he could just pull away. The part of him that wants to lean into the contact wins out, allowing him to nestle into his older brother’s chest as he continues to cough.

“Shit, Karamatsu!” Osomatsu starts rubbing his little brother’s back in an attempt to help break up the fit. “The fuck, man? That sounds nasty. You coming down with something?”

Karamatsu can feel the others hovering closer, murmuring in concern among themselves. The coughs finally taper off and he scrubs at his eyes, no matter how much it hurts, even as more tears start to bubble up. “Y-yeah… I woke up sick…”

“What??” Choromatsu sounds almost like he’s been betrayed or something. “You should have stayed home! Ah… wait… wait, you walked all the way to the station from school in the rain when you already have a cold? That’s a great way to end up with a sinus infection or pneumonia! Shit, we gotta get you home…”

“Sorry…” Karamatsu manages to croak out, followed by more sniffles. Thanks to the cold air and the sneezing, his nose has started running again. “U-uh… does anyone have tissues…? I used all mine already…”

Ichimatsu starts to dig around in his pockets. “Yeah, I think I have some.”

As he hands over a small pack to his older brother, Osomatsu gives a protective squeeze. “Hey, Choro, don’t blame Karamatsu for all this. He should have said something, sure, but it’s not all on him here. We should have noticed something was up. Right? We’re his brothers.”

Karamatsu lets out a small whine of protest, pressing a tissue over his nose. It would have been nice for them to notice, but… it’s not like it’s their job. They don’t owe it to him to pay attention to him. “I-it’s not your fault…”

Before anyone else can say a word, Totty lets go of Choromatsu and darts over to circle his arms around Karamatsu’s waist. He’s sort of wedging himself between Karamatsu and Osomatsu, pretty clearly wanting to be with both of them. “Ah! We love you, Karamatsu-nii-chan!! We’ll take good care of you!”

“… Yeah,” Choromatsu chuckles. He reaches over to pat Karamatsu’s back. “I’m sorry we weren’t paying enough attention to notice you weren’t feeling well. But we’re gonna get you home and tucked into bed. And I’m sure Mom will call the drama club teacher to tell her you can’t perform tomorrow night.”

Jyushimatsu hums, and he appears to be trying very hard not to smile wide like he wants to do. “We’re probably all gonna catch it, right?”

Ichimatsu chuckles softly. “Yeah, that’s what usually happens.”

“So… we can go stomp in puddles, right? Since we’re gonna get sick anyway?”

“No, no, no,” Choromatsu immediately speaks up, “no stomping in puddles! We have to get Kara home!”

Of course, it’s too late. Jyushimatsu has run off ahead of them all, launching himself into every puddle he can find, his face switching between an irritated scowl and a borderline maniacal grin.

Totty’s still clinging to Karamatsu, snuggling against his shoulder. “We’ll all get to be sick together! That means we get to stay home from school for a couple days. We can sleep and watch movies and have a big cuddle puddle.”

Choromatsu sighs. “As long as we don’t miss the commencement ceremony, that’s okay. I guess the last few weeks of our senior year don’t matter too much with regard to schoolwork, anyway. Especially since we’re already adults.”

Another few coughs are muffled against Osomatsu’s chest, prompting everyone to give a brief stroke to Karamatsu’s back or hair. “Well, before we catch it,” Osomatsu says, “we’ve gotta get this geek home and throw his ass in bed. He’s really warm… feels like his skin’s gonna burn his clothes up. C’mon, Kara. We’ll get you wrapped up in a blanket, then maybe I can help Mom make some kayu to make you feel better.”

“Mm…” Well. That does sound pretty good. “… W-with umeboshi on top?”

“Yeah, sure! Whatever you want! And Choro can make some tea, Totty can pick out a movie, Ichi can get a cold cloth for your forehead, and Jyushi…” Osomatsu blinks and peers out where their fifth eldest is… way ahead of them. “What can Jyushi do?”

Choromatsu blows out a slow, frustrated breath. “… Stay out of the way??”

Totty giggles. “He can be the bodyguard! We’ll station him outside the room, and if any of Ichimatsu-nii-chan’s friends come by to try and take Ichimatsu-nii-chan away, Jyushi-nii-chan will scare them off!”

“Hey, yeah! That’s a good idea, Totty!”

“What? Why do you want to scare my friends away?”

“Because Karamatsu-nii-chan’s sick! They can’t drag you off somewhere when your big brother needs you! That’d be mean.”

“A-ah, hahahah… he’d be fine without me, but… I can just say no! We don’t need Jyushi to scare them away.”

“We miiiiiiight! At least, it would be funny!”

Karamatsu offers a tiny laugh, which quickly turns into another couple of coughs. He puts a weak arm around Totty and wonders how he’s going to keep his eyes open for the rest of the walk home. He thinks they’re not too far away, though.

“Thanks, guys… this… this might not be such a bad day after all…”

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Sideways || Morgan & Blanche

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Blanche’s Apartment

PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: A seance for Agnes Bachman only goes half-right. 

CONTENT WARNING: Wrong Agnes is mean :/

“I don’t know how this works, but maybe don’t touch anything with your bare hands if you can help it,” Morgan explained, releasing the wood bobbin from her hand so it rattled and rolled onto the floor. “I’m pretty sure Cece just sniffed at something from Granny Agnes’ box of goodies and now she looks like, well, not-Cece. I don’t think you want to be running around town looking like my dead relatives.” She gave Blanche as much of a smile as she was able to give and looked for a place to sit. The apartment had been given a deep, photo-ready clean, and all the furniture was cleared away to make room for the magic circle on the floor. Morgan wanted to ask if everything was okay, this wasn’t what she understood to be Blanche’s norm, and she hadn’t checked in on the girl as much as she knew she probably should. As she tried to figure out how to sit, how to meet her eyes, what to do with the soup she’d brought as an offering, she said, “Uh, anything I should know, before we get started?”

Things were sparkling in her apartment. Blanche wasn’t really a messy person unless she was depressed and had no energy to clean, but she wasn’t really a make this place look like Disney On Ice in TWO SECONDS either. But after Kaden’s comment about messes, Blanche sort of… Well, she overdid it a little. She was pretty sure things were literally squeaky clean. Blanche had shoved all her furniture up against the wall neatly, drawing the circle that Jasmine had taught her up on the dark linoleum floor with a chalk pencil. Candles littered the surrounding area, perhaps a little clumsily, but it was for the overall energy of the magic that was to be performed. Though, Blanche sort of thought magic was a strong word, it was more of a light summoning. It wasn’t like she could yank Agnes’ spirit from the ether like Nell and Morgan had with Constance. They didn’t even have any concrete proof that Agnes was still walking the earth… Though, Blanche hypothesized that she was. The Bachman’s seemed to all have unfortunate fates. It made sense to her that Agnes would have ended up as a spirit. Blanche watched the little bobbin roll across the floor and grimaced. “Right, no… uh, no touchy, I guess.” Blanche had to immediately resist the urge to touch it. “Um, no. I don’t think so?” Blanche had been burning to ask Morgan about what happened with Constance, but she figured that it was probably best to stay out of it. For now, at least. “Just the reminder that I’m - I mean, I’m new at this. And that this isn’t a sure-fire thing. She might not be on this plane anymore.” She sat at the top of the circle, crossing her legs as she pulled the book into her lap. “Are you ready?” Blanche asked.

The silence bristled between them. No doubt Blanche knew about what happened in the woods with Nell and Jasmine and Adam, if she had been advising them on it beforehand. Thinking on it now, the ploy was enough of a gambit to have maybe involved her from the background. But Blanche hadn’t tried to stop her yet, and Morgan didn’t really want to know that her choices meant so little to someone else too. She sat down on the floor opposite Blanche, knowing her energy would not give itself over to help. “Kinda hoping she can’t come to the phone right now, after all the bitching we’ve done about her over the last hundred-odd years. But, that would be a nice thing for the cursed family so--” she smiled ruefully, barely a performance of joy or humor at all, and then caught herself and softened for Blanche. She deserved better from Morgan, no matter the circumstances, and if Morgan felt herself being ground up a little too finely, she could still summon up the will to be better for her sake. “Anything’s worth a shot, and I have plenty of faith in you,” she said. “Let her rip.”

The bitterness in Morgan’s tone didn’t escape Blanche. It was hard to miss, even as Morgan tried to cover it up. She wanted this to go well - she desperately wanted this to go well. Blanche didn’t necessarily have any high hopes, and she wished she had asked Jasmine to help her. After what had happened, though, she was fairly certain that would be out of the question. So Blanche went over the Sanskrit ritual over and over again, having recorded the pronunciation exactly so she wouldn’t mistakenly say something wrong. “Alright,” Blanche said quietly. “I’ll begin then.”

Blanche spoke the words as confidently as she could manage, but slowly. It took a moment to feel the ritual work, and it was a similar feeling to sensing a ghost. The feeling originated under her skin, spreading until her whole body was tingling with the sense of magic. For once, it actually felt good. And it felt better as the room’s temperature dropped ever so slightly, the flames from the candles swaying and flickering from a non-existent breeze. It felt even better when she saw the form appear before her eyes in the middle of the circle. Breathing a little heavier, Blanche sucked in a deep breath. “Agnes?” She asked. “Is that you?”

Agnes was old, deep set wrinkles on her face enhanced by the twisted scowl of her expression. She was, clearly, not happy. Her eyes narrowed on the small blonde girl and the smaller brunette sitting around some foolish circle. She sneered. “Who the hell’s asking?” Angels snapped, crankily. “I don't answer to some pasty, pierced hooligan with a bare middriff in October!” The blonde looked down at herself, pulling at the muted pink fabric of her shirt in some discomfort. “Where the hell am I? I was in the park watching the birds!”

“Uhhh...Blanche?” Morgan asked. She hadn’t memorized all the family history in her search, but every one up and down the family line knew that good ol’ great-great granny Agnes died at the fine age of forty-five and lived in dread of that year and everything that might come after.  This very unpleasant old woman was not her. “Blanche, this is definitely not the right--” The woman launched into a grumpy tirade before Morgan could finish. “Hey!” She snapped. “Do you wanna be stuck in this circle all day or do you wanna be nice for a second! We’re sorry for any inconvenience, but you’re not gonna get out of this by shouting to see the manager, okay?” She gave Blanche a sidelong look full of cringe. She did know how to throw this...whoever she was back, right?

Agnes rounded on Morgan, ghostly eyes blazing. “Is there a manager here? Because all I see is a foolish little girl and her babysitter sitting around playing with- with- with-” Agnes threw a haughty glance at the old book in Blanche’s lap, as well as the ones stacked neatly on top of the side table pushed up against the wall. “That!” she settled on, her tone indicating it was just as acceptable as a dog having explosive diarrhea in the middle of a public area. “Why don’t you -”

Blanche sprang to her feet then, hurriedly trying to do damage control. The ritual hasn't ended, she could still feel the energy glittering under her skin, except instead of feeling good, it felt like it was mocking her. This clearly wasn't the right Agnes. Oh, hell. “Ms. Agnes,” Blanche put on the sunny smile she used when providing customer service at Mooseventure. “There’s been a small mistake--” Blanche’s tone was as soothing as she could manage, but unfortunately, Agnes wasn't done.

“A mistake?!” She shrieked. “Clearly! Honest to goodness all of you young people are the same! Sticking your nose into other people’s business and then just mucking it all up! How dare you -”

“If you just let me end the ritual, you can go back to the park and watch your birds!” Blanche’s voice rose an octave, looking at Morgan apologetically as she scrambled for the book. “Just let me -” except Agnes wasn't letting up. She started going in on Blanche, mostly about her clothes and various piercings, and Blanche was so flustered she couldn't even think about wrapping the tail end of the ritual up. Sanskrit was hard enough. “Now, now, let’s just-”

“I am an adjunct thank you!” Morgan’s temper was rising. She tried to breathe slowly. “Ma’am--” But without anything to regulate the whole thing was barely more than a placebo. Overhead, the lights flickered in spasms, enough to send sparks against the glass. The furniture rattled, trembling at the ghost woman’s ire. Enough was enough. Morgan got up and unhooked her iron rod from her bag, leveling it at the Wrong Agnes as best she could. The ghost was tall, probably formidable in life, given how casually she descended into the antics of a spoiled brat. But Morgan wasn’t afraid of her. She’d meekly served and accommodated women like her in life when she shlepped from one shitty customer service job to another to make ends meet, and she had suffered so much worse in the time since then. “Listen!” She snapped. “You can shut up and let this girl do her fucking work or you can be stuck here for eternity!” Her cheeks tingled as she spoke. It was delicious, not having to play nice with someone like this, to say exactly what was on her mind. “And you know what, Not My Agnes, have you ever considered that the reason you’re not on some heavenly yacht playing shuffleboard with your loved ones is because you choose to be so unpleasant?” Yeah, didn’t think so. “Now pipe down before I make you.”

“Oh, you’re an adjunct,” Agnes sneered, the sarcasm dripping from her words. “Color me impressed. And such language!” Agnes rounded on Morgan and Blanche let an audible wince. It was sort of funny, Blanche had a mouth on her 95% of the time, but she was strangely dry mouthed when getting chewed out by a bratty, old as life itself Karen. Agnes, however, had turned her verbal berating of the girl onto Morgan, starting in on her as well. “How dare you. You don’t know anything about me, you horrible, nasty woman! It’s none of your concern where I chose to spend my after life and may I remind you that this is your fault we’re all in this situation to begin with. I wouldn’t even been here if it weren’t for you and the little shit with half a sweater -”

“Okay!” Blanche practically screeched, mostly so she could be overheard by the raising voices. “This is getting us nowhere!” Agnes whipped back to her, but she just bulldozed right over her before she could go in again. “I can fix this, and no one needs to yell at anyone anymore and we can all pretend we never met each other in the first place and we can all live happily ever after! Okay?  Okay??”

“Let me tell you something, girl -”

“.... Morgan, just hit her. Please.”

Morgan didn’t need to be told twice. She swung the rod right at the Wrong Agnes’ head as if she could lop it straight off. The woman dissipated mid-word. The room went silent. Morgan deflated and flopped slowly to the floor, fighting back a snigger. At this point, she should’ve come to expect something like this, right? She let the rod clatter to the floor and pushed back her hair, smiling and shaking her head at the same time. She didn’t know how, but the shit show of the afternoon was just...funny already.

“You okay there, Blanche? She didn’t get any of your nasty heathen piercings on the way out, right?” She snorted in spite of herself as she spoke, giving her friend an apologetic look.

Blanche relaxed slightly as the woman dissipated in the middle of the circle, and very clearly chanted the end of the seance ritual. The glittering feeling stopped and Blanche let out a breath as she hurriedly rubbed the circle on the floor with her foot so it could be broken. “Oh, my nasty heathen piercings are rattled, but I think they’ll hold up strong.” Blanche breathed, glancing at Morgan. What a nasty woman… Blanche felt the guilt creeping up in her, looking at Morgan’s smile and listening to her snort. What a nasty ghost. Blanche couldn’t believe she hadn’t poltergeist yet. She didn’t know where it came from, but a slightly hysterical giggle erupted from her, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. “S-Sorry!! Sorry! … Sorry!”

Blanche’s laugh was the last block keeping Morgan from cracking up. Her laugh was breathless as first, but as she remembered how to get air into her lungs, it grew louder, shrill with delirium. “Oh, no, you’re good,” she said between giggles. “Come on, sit, eat on the floor, I don’t know!” She wiped at her eyes, gasping as she laughed. “Oh, Stars, I have no idea why this is so funny! Are you sure you’re okay? I know that was really…” she waved her hand vaguely in the air. “...Really bad. But there’s always next time or whatever, right?”

Blanche’s laugh was strong as she carefully went around to smother the few candles that stayed aflame while Not The Right Agnes was having her temper tantrum. She couldn't help it. “She was so mean!” Blanche marveled. “I didn’t know they made ghosts like that.” Blanche had gathered all the candles up, and not knowing what to do, she dumped them onto her kitchen table carefully so she didn’t get hot wax everywhere. “I - I -” Blanche was a little breathless from all that laughing, her giggles turning into something else. Before she realized what was happening, a hard lump in her throat appeared and tears had pricked her eyes. “Fuck -” Blanche rasped, disgusted with herself. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m so sorry Morgan. I didn’t -” Blanche looked at her somberly. “I didn’t mean to make such a mess.”

“Oh, honey…” Morgan’s laugh pettered off into a deep sigh. Her limbs were numb and heavy, so getting to her feet was more of a process than she wanted it to be, but she managed to get up and reel Blanche into her arms. “Hey, I’m not mad and you don’t have to be either. It’s okay. I am the queen of making a mess, and this isn’t much of one at all, okay? For your first seance, I think this went okay. Becca would be so impressed, and you handled that old lady ghost’s assholery pretty well. It’s okay, Blanche.” She tried to walk them down towards the couch where it was cozier and a little away from all the supernatural stuff. She itched to throw some salt around them or put the wards back up, but that would probably come later, after dealing with this. She blocked the bare walls and the sight of Constance from her mind, focusing instead on the young woman in her arms. “What’s this really about, huh?”

For once, Blanche accepted the contact without complaint. In fact, she sort of craved it. She numbly hung her arms around Morgan, letting her lead to the couch, away from the ruined chalked circle on the floor. She sank down into the couch’s cushions, leaning back as she tried to formulate the right words. “I’m sorry…” Blanche said, her face twisting into a grimace. “People keep having to clean up after me,” Blanche said softly, remembering Kaden’s words. “And it’s shitty, no matter what my intentions were.” She didn't want to make anyone have to clean up her messes. “With Nadia. And Cordelia… and then I made this stupid promise to Regan…”

Though she didn't say it, Blanche thought of Constance too. She pulled away from Morgan, her head dropping into her hands. How could she be so stupid? There was a part of her, larger than she would have liked, that gnawed at her, telling her to run far away. Move away without a word, transfer school, be an accountant where she didn't have to worry about werewolves or ghosts or hunters or murders… Blanche was miserable back then, but at least she was miserable by herself. Her depression and her ineptness hadn't impacted anyone else's life but her own. Blanche looked around her apartment, and while she had thought she practically scrubbed the damn place so it was sparkling, she pinpointed imperfections with an eagle eye. Regan has been here not long ago when Winn has died. She comforted her and they watched bad television together. She highly doubted that it could be like that ever again. She sighed, closing her eyes. Her eyes had dried, and she felt some semblance of a relief. “I'm sorry we didn't get to talk to the right Agnes,” Blanche said quietly. “I know you want answers.”

Morgan went quiet and let Blanche cry the way she needed to. “First of all, no one really knows exactly how anything they do is going to turn out. You can try as hard as you can to figure out what the consequences are gonna be, but… You’re doing the best you can, Blanche. As best as anyone can. I don’t know anyone who cares as much for everyone as you except for Remmy. You are always so ready to jump in and help and that is so much better than doing nothing just because it might come out wrong. Your intentions are so important, and so is the way you try. And maybe you could stand to get into things a little less so you can spend some of that energy on yourself, but not because sometimes things happen that you didn’t expect. Never for that, Blanche.” She reached over and gave her a squeeze, hoping it would be accepted. “It’s okay. I don’t need an explanation that badly, and I can try other ways.” It would have been nice to have been able to finally meet Agnes. Aside from her mother, who was still too fraught of a subject to consider speaking to for real and probably gone for good, Agnes was the one Morgan believed who could understand her the best. She had been just as young as Constance was when her lost her friend. And three years later her world fell apart. And three years after that. Morgan could imagine how terrified, how desperate she must have been to flee so far from home she wound up on a dinky island on the gulf coast, as far away as geography and her money could take her. Only to lose her new home and everyone she cared about in the world’s worst hurricane. Then be blamed for everything by her kids, her grandkids, and for what? Trusting the wrong person when she was twenty-one? Agnes would know what it was like to be alone, to be afraid of every kind, normal impulse in her. Agnes wouldn't tell Morgan to stop and let it go when she told her what her intentions were with Constance’s ghost. And maybe just knowing would give her peace. It was never her fault, and soon everything would be okay. But that would be too easy, at least on the first go. “I’ll figure things out another way. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

Blanche wanted to give up, to just put it to rest and to keep her nose out of it. Morgan telling her she could do just that, however, felt like a slap to the face. Blanche’s fragile insecurities in her screamed in her head as her father’s voice mixed with the cruel voice that dwelled in the back of her mind whispered that she was pathetic. Wasting her life. Wasting her gift. Selfish. Aren’t you the girl who wants all the answers? Isn’t this what you want to do with your life? Blanche was frozen a moment, leaning forward on her knees as she stared at the ground as the voices and imperfections grew louder and louder. She fought the urge to clamp her hands over her ears and instead took in a deep breath. And again. And again. And again. Anything to keep from spiraling totally out of control. Finally, Blanche pushed herself to sit up straight, her nails digging into the palm of her hand. Blanche turned her head to look at Morgan solidly. “Let me try again,” she said, definitively. “Not today, I need more… I need more practice. But I want answers too, and I want to help you in the way that I can.” And maybe it could shed light on Constance - shed some light on the reason she was so damn stubborn. “Please, Morgan.”

Morgan counted the length of Blanche's breaths in a whisper, bracing herself to watch another friend collapse under the weight of this cruel, awful place. One, two, three, four five. Good. One, two, three, four, five… She knew the drill as well as Morgan did, and she craved her control all the more when she was down. Watching her pick herself up so quickly, still threadbare and stressed, Morgan’s stomach twisted. She didn’t know which was worse, forcing Blanche to sit down or letting her stay in this, knowing what it might do to her. “Are you sure, Blanche?” She tentatively reached out to brush back her hair. “I’ll be okay. I can do some more earthly plane digging, check out my Scribe-y resources, stuff like that.” But before the words were out, she could already see on Blanche’s face that she needed to do this. If not for Morgan, then for herself. She let out a long sigh and withdrew her hand, nodding. “But you can look too. And when you’re ready, next time, we’ll get this right.”

[ldangerousdreamsl]

Lipstick [Luka]

This is my first time writing and posting on Tumblr. Thank you for reading and any feedback is welcome I’d love to improve.

Special thanks to @emeraldtawny and @unstoppablelinda for beta reading and helping me to overcome my nerves.

Warning: NSFW

Every New Year the Black Army hosts a party to celebrate the holidays. They were all surprised when I told them that I would be spending my first time in the Cradle. They all expected me to return to the Land of Reason and spend it with my family.

But I had made my decision to leave that world behind me. I chose a life with Luka and that’s why I settled things in the Land of Reason and decided to stay here permanently.

While that was my main reason I would be lying if I said it was my only one. Recently I had been noticing more girls throwing themselves onto Luka. It was only natural as his girlfriend that I would be anxious.

The other day we were picking up groceries for dinner. The lady bagging them handed it to Luka and fondly held his hands. She began gushing about how beautiful he was and if he wanted to go out sometime. I had to physically rip her hands off of him and tell her he was already taken.

Luka was so shocked that he didn’t know what to do except apologize to me. I felt a little guilty because it wasnt his fault for being born with good looks. But ever since that day I felt anxious whenever Luka went out by himself.

For the party, I decided I was going to go all out. I would make myself worthy to stand by his side that anyone who looked at him would have no doubts.

The dress I wore was an onyx black for the Black Army. The fabric was soft and wrapped around my neck. It had no sleeves and draped down over my legs with an open slit to the side. As I looked in the mirror I nodded my head satisfied at how it outlined my body.

I tied my hair to the side, curling it so it fell in ringlets. Two silver earrings draped down from my ears, the metal at the end were shaped like spades. I wore a little makeup but wanted to make it appear light and natural. The only thing that stood out was the lipstick I pick. A deep red shade resembling the color of cherries.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Amari, are you ready?” Luka’s voice called out behind the door.

My heels clicked against the floor as I walked over to the door to reveal a dapper looking Luka. He wore a navy blue suit with a tie that matched. Underneath was a crisp white collared shirt. His plum hair tied in a low ponytail in the back instead of to the side. His golden eyes were wide as they looked at me up and down.

Luka cleared his throat, pulling us both out of our dazes and offered me his arm.

“Shall we go?”

I could feel myself relieved at my decision to attend the party with him.

The building the Black Army had rented out was huge. The ballroom was filled with so many people from soldiers to citizens. They were all talking or drinking. Others were laughing or dancing. It was all so very lively.

Luka separated from me to go make a toast with all of the officers and told me he would come and find me later. I had occupied myself with greeting the Black Army soldiers I knew. Most of them I knew by name. I was walking to a refreshment table when I noticed the wide gesture of a woman flailing her arms.

I glanced over to see what the commotion was about.

She was talking to a man with a very expressive face and big gestures to emphasize her point. I couldn’t hear what she was talking about only that she was extremely passionate about it. Her dress was navy blue as it hugged her body tightly. The satin fabric draped all the way to the ground as the waves moving sideways added its own shape to the dress. Her dress had no sleeves and pushed away from her body as it tried to accommodate her large breasts.

I admired her beautiful auburn hair pinned up at the top of her hair in a mature hairstyle. I could immediately tell she was from a noble family and I look to see who she’s talking to. I was surprised to see Luka standing stiffly and awkwardly.

The woman laughs to herself and lightly smacks him on the arm. Luka flinches but laughs nervously too.

I make my way over, diving and dodging through people. I feel a little out of whack as I get closer but I can begin to hear their conversation now.

“Did I tell you I have a thing for guys with long hair? Your hair is the perfect length,” she smiles revealing flashy pearly whites.

“Th-thanks?” Luka gives her a polite weird look. “Uhm, I actually need to-”

“I think that violet shade is beautiful,” she continues, stepping closer.

“There you are Luka, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” I say as I smile widely approaching them.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luka so happy to see me before. The red haired lady looks at me blankly.

I stand beside Luka and wrap both arms around his pressing my breasts into it. I give another charming smile to the lady.

“W-who is this?” The red haired lady is appalled by my gesture.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend. Amari,” Luka introduces me. His cheeks are dusted pink. I felt a sense of pride wash over me at the title. I straightened myself.

“Nice to meet you, Lady?”

“Hawthorne,” she hisses back. She glares at me with a nasty sneer.

“Lady Hawthorne. What a pleasure,” I let the sarcasm drip off my tongue.

“Luka dear,” I emphasized watching Luka’s cheeks grow redder and Lady Hawthorne become infuriated. “Ray said he was looking for you. He asked me to come get you,”

“Really? Why didn’t you say so earlier,” He addressed Lady Hawthorne with a bow like the polite gentleman he was. I curtsied. “Please excuse us,”

He offered me his arm which I happily accepted and guided us away from the crowds. I was sure I heard Lady Hawthorne scoff behind us. I led us through to a pair of open doors that led into an open hallway.

“Is this where Ray is?” Luka questioned.

I stopped and turned around to face him, “I haven’t seen Ray since we left the barracks,”

Luka’s eyes widened, “So that was all a lie, why would you do that?”

I stepped closer to Luka catching a whiff of his cologne. “Because right now, I want you to myself,”

I watch Luka’s adam apple bob as he gulps loudly at my confession. I would think with how long we’ve been dating he would be used to my straightforward talking. I wrap my arms around his neck bringing myself closer to his scent and presence.

“I feel a little insulted with how no one seems to get your taken,” I mumbled against him. “What more can I do to prove that you’re mine?”

I watch his eyelids flutter halfway shut as he looks at my lips. My forehead rests against his.

“I’m sorry, I should do more to reject their offenses,”

I lean closer until my nose touches his. His warm breath tickles my face

“Do you know how much it hurts to see other women flirt with you?” I tilt my head.

His body shivers against mine and our eyes meet.

We draw closer and I press my lips against his. Kissing his soft lips and caressing them with gentleness. But it hurts to go slow. I slip my tongue into his, feeling his warm mouth.

Luka’s hands wrap around my waist. But I don’t feel close enough. I press the back of his head closer and deeper into my mouth as our kiss heats up. Our mouths move faster against each other.

Feelings of desperation and longing mix as our tongues swirl around each other.

Luka quietly moans into the kiss and I feel my body shiver. We move until Luka’s pressed into the wall. When we finally pull away for air we look at each other.

Luka’s mouth is red all around from my lipstick and I find the mark to be quite befitting on him.

Hm where else could I leave mark? I feel my lips stretch into a wicked smile as I lean back in to Luka and press kisses down his warm neck.

I pop open the first few buttons of Lukas shirt and lower his tie as I trail lower.

Luka groans to the ceiling. “Wh-what are you doing? What if someone sees us?”

I hum onto his skin enjoying the shiver that rolls over his body.

“That would be bad, I would think,” I look up at him and he moves his eyes to look down at me with his head still tilted up. “One of the Black Army Officers in such a compromising position,” I run my tongue over my lips.

He whimpers and grabs my hands walking down the hallway further away from the party. His pace is quick and hurried a pace behind running.

“Where are we going?” I ask with a puzzled frown.

“Somewhere private,” was all Luka replied.

He turned a corner and opened a door. We both entered. The room was dark with two couches on each side of a coffee table. It sat on top of a ornate rug and looked like some sort of meeting room.

Luka locked the door and looked at me. Even without light in the room I could see the look of primal desire in them.

“We can continue here,” he looked around the room

I smiled to myself and decided to play a game.

“Continue what?” I asked innocently lacing my hands behind my back.

Luka looked at me with a shocked look. He opened his mouth and started to speak before realizing what words would be coming out letting the rest die out as a squeak.

I giggled and approached him, “What naughty things were you thinking of?” I dragged a finger down his chest. His taut body was hard beneath his suit.

“I-” words faltered on his lips.

“What? I couldn’t hear you?” I teased. I pulled on his tie bringing his head lower. I whispered in the shell of his ear. “What do you want me to do to you?”

A whine escaped Luka’s lips, “Stop teasing me,” his voice came out breathless.

I bit his earlobe tugging on it gently as I let one of my hands drag down the front of Luka till it reached the tent in his pants.

“What do we have here?” My voice a low whisper as my fingers ghosted over his erection.

He grabbed my hand and pulling it up as his other pushed my shoulder so I met his beautiful eyes.

“I’m still a man, you know?” his voice came out like a growl that was sent right to my core.

I smiled at him, putting a hand on his cheek, “Yes. What can my man do?”

He pushed me down onto the couch hovering over me as he kissed me hard and long till I was breathless. After enduring my teasing I could tell Luka wanted more. The way he lightly nipped and pulled at my lips.

I held his shoulders as his hand traveled down my body feeling me through the dress. His hand slipped through the slit and rubbed my thighs.

I grabbed his hair pulling him into a deeper kiss as his hands began to travel closer to where I needed them. Luka’s groan sent a vibration through his body that had me shivering at the sensation.

Luka pulled back and put his knee in between my legs as he looked down at me. A dark haze in his eyes as they swept over my body what I imagined looked like a mess.

We kept eye contact as my hand pulled down his tie and remove his jacket and collared shirt revealing his muscular torso. His chest rose and fell in labored breath as my hands ran down them, tracing the skin. He put his hand on the arm rest above me, leaning closer so my hands could travel easier.

“You’re so handsome,” I sighed as my thumb rubbed against his nipple. Luka’s sharp intake of breath was all I needed as an answer.

I moved my hands down his abdomen going over to his pants. My hands were quick to undo his buckle and open his pants. Slipping my fingers under the fabric and rubbing his dick that ached for attention.

Luka shut his eyes a groan slipping out of his mouth as I stroked the sensitive flesh. His breathing grew faster and harder as I circled the head of it.

One of his hands came down to my breast and I felt him squeeze it.

“Mm,” I responded as he began massaging it. His hand was so large and warm on it I couldn’t get enough of his touch.

I pulled down his pants and underwear to fully expose his dick. It stood hard and bright pink as it begged for more.  

I brought my fingers to my lips and sucked on them catching Lukas attention. I moved them back down and began pumping with a somewhat tight gri[. My spit coating his dick and creating friction.

“Ahh,” Luka cried out, “I can’t cum on your dress. Its black,”

I didn’t stop, “So what are you going to do?”

I watch his face strain as he held back but his pleasure was getting to him. I spread the precum that was escaping. I enjoyed every single sound that was coming from his mouth despite his struggle to suppress it. When I felt Luka getting close I slowed my hand to a stop.

Luka let out a whine but didn’t resist when I put my hands on his shoulders pushing him down onto the couch. With our switched positions I hovered over him taking in his blushing face lined with perspiration. His eyes were little slits as he struggled to keep the open. His mouth was wide as he tried to take in air.

“Want me to help you?” I asked looking down at him fluttering my eyelashes

Luka gulped, his hips thrusting up into me at the lack of attention.

“Please. Amari please,”

I smiled at him dragging a finger down his cheek, “You know me so well. I love it when you beg,”

I put my hands on his strong thighs keeping him locked in place. I leaned down and put his dick into my mouth.

It was so big and warm as I circled the head licking the dripping precum. Luka’s hips tried to buck up desperate to go deeper but I managed to hold them down. I started dragging my tongue under the underside of it.

Slowly I began moving it farther back into my mouth. The flesh slowly going down the back of my throat. Luka had covered his mouth with his hand but it wasn’t enough to muffle the loud moan. I relaxed my throat and finished shoving him down, gagging as a reflex.

When I swallowed I was met with and even more delighted moan as Luka turned into a mess underneath me. His breathing sounded louder and my hands weren’t strong enough to keep him from bucking into me again.

I hummed a soft tune as I let the vibrations do their magic.

“Ah- Amari!” I felt his dick twitch and pulse against my throat.

I pulled back and out my lips made a popping noise. Luka had lifted his head to watch me. His eyes were bleary and dazed as they tracked my movement.

I kept eye contact with him as I started from the base. I let my tongue out all the way as I licked him from the bottom to the top. At the tip I flicked it with my tongue catching his precum.

Luka had squeezed his eyes shut. I circled the tip before sliding him back into my mouth.

“I-I’m so close,” Luka’s voice sounded weak and hoarse.

I started a slow pace gradually bringing it faster. The hard muscle slid through my mouth in and out. Luka tried to meet the same pace thrusting into my mouth.

A gentle brush against Luka’s balls was his undoing. Luka had taken his hand off his mouth as both hands were clutching the couch beneath him in a white fist.

“I’m cumming,” His voice louder than usual.

His dick thummed as it released and I was diligent about swallowing every last bit of the warm sweet liquid. Even as the last drop fell I gently continued sucking causing Luka to shiver with sensitivity.

He put his hand on my lower back as he looked at me weakly. I pulled away leaving his dick limp and satisfied. I smiled as I rose up and met him in a long kiss. He groaned in my mouth as he tasted himself.

“Ready to go back to the party?” I asked brushing the hair away from his face.

“Are you kidding me?” his voice was hoarse.

“The sooner we get back out there the faster we can go home and you can repay the favor,” I said grabbing his hand and placing it above the drenched spot in my dress.

Another moan escaped him.

“Why don’t I just do it now?” Luka smiled rubbing it through the fabric.

A knock came at the door.

“Luka. Amari. Are you in there?” Sirius’ voice asked.

Both of our bodies froze paralyzed at being found.

“Yeah,” I answered sending a playful look to a crestfallen Luka. “Hold on, we just wanted to get away from the party,”

I got off of Luka and collected his shirt and coat. I threw them to him as I began fixing my hair and smoothing my dress. I turned back to look at Luka who had just finished hiking his tie up again.

I opened the door to reveal a tired looking Sirius.

“We’ve been looking for you guys. We have to take the annual photo Luka,” He looked passed me and addressed Luka.

Luka sighed and got off the couch. The three of us began heading back to the party.

“Also,” Sirius started, “Luka, tuck in your shirt,”

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

Harry/Ginny: "We're cursed! We're doomed!"

AO3

The summer after Ginny finished atschool, but before she started with the Harpies for the new season, she andHarry booked their first holiday together. They were to visit southern Spain,touring the muggle and magical coastline and generally having a delightful twoweeks. It would be Harry’s first ever trip abroad (the Dursleys hadn’t exactlybeen big on taking him away with them) and Ginny’s first holiday since theWeasleys went to Egypt when she was twelve. And it proved a disaster from startto finish.

Various Portkeys were missed; onehotel lost their booking altogether, forcing them into a very dodgy hostel forthe night where they shared a dormitory with fourteen drunk men on a stag do;and between them, they ended up in hospital four times. First Ginny gotsunstroke, then Harry fell down the side of a cliff on a hiking trip and brokehis ankle, then Ginny got a severely infected bug bite, then Harry finished offtheir stay with a nasty bout of food poisoning. All these things were easily dealtwith by the Healers, but all in all, it wasn’t the most successful of holidays.

They recounted the farce overdinner to Ron and Hermione when they got back, who laughed in the appropriateplaces, and made the appropriate noises of sympathy when required. “You’recursed,” Ron said, once they got to the food poisoning bit. “That extendingcamping trip we took put a curse on your holidaymaking forever!” A few drinkslater, this ‘curse’ turned into a silly in-joke which gave them all a fewlaughs, and was promptly forgotten about the next day.

Until, that is, the two of thembooked a second holiday together. This was in late autumn: their busy workschedules meant that they rarely were able to see each other, so they made aconscious effort to get away, just the two of them, and booked a cottage forthe weekend in Upper Fladgley. Getting there was, clearly, a breeze: they onlyhad to apparate up to Yorkshire, and they met in the Wand and Cauldron,enjoying a delicious meal before walking the short distance to thebeautifully-appointed cottage rented to them for Friday to Monday via a friendof a friend of a friend for surprisingly little. The weather was glorious forlate November: cold and crisp, but dry—autumn at its best. It was all set to bea glorious holiday, and an excuse for some much needed time together.

And then they discovered the ghoulin the attic.

This ghoul made the ghoul at theBurrow look tame, and explained why the rent had been so low. It consistentlymade noise—howling, banging on the pipes, doing Merlin only knew what untilabout four in the morning, whereupon it stopped for a couple of hours only toregroup at breakfast time twice as loud. They tried all the silencing charmsthey knew, but for some reason, they did not work. The ghoul was so loud thatat times talking was impossible: Harry and Ginny found themselves bellowing ateach other to be heard, which rather took the edge off whatever kind ofromantic weekend they’d planned. Sleeping was challenging enough; anything elsewas out of the question, especially after Ginny purchased two sets of ProfessorSprout style earmuffs which they both wore to bed.

They did, it was true, enjoy somenice autumnal walks around the sleepy little magical village in the Dales andthe Wand and Cauldron severed the best food either of them had had in months. Likethe Spain trip, it wasn’t as though they’d hated every moment. But as aromantic getaway, the holiday was a disaster from start to finish.

“I told you: cursed!” Ron said,when they’d told him, later. And, again, they’d laughed at their misfortune,then promptly forgotten all about it.

But then. In the spring, they’dorganised a trip to the Amalfi Coast. Early May, they’d been told, was the besttime to go, and so they headed for the wizarding beaches, sparing no expense ontheir hotel. They’d booked for a week, and the first three days were glorious.You could not have asked, they both agreed later, for a better holiday. Thehotel was incredible, the food divine, and the scenery beyond anything theycould have imagined. More than that, though they were finally able to spendsome time alone, just the two of them. It was amazing.

Then, the morning of their fourthday there, they’d gone down to breakfast only for another guest to approachthem. “Are you Ginny Weasley?” he’d asked. Ginny, who had had a spectular firstseason with the Harpies, was used to this by now, confirmed that she was,expecting to sign an autograph then be on her way, like at home. But the blokehad derailed their breakfast, giving her a play-by-play of nearly every matchshe’d been in like she herself hadn’t been there—with critiques!—and it hadrather spoilt breakfast.

Still, they were set up for a nicemorning by the pool afterwards…until it turned out that word had gotten outthat the Harpies’ new star Chaser was staying there, and nearly every touristin the surrounding area wanted her autograph, or a conversation, or the chanceto throw a Quaffle around with her. Throw in the fact that a fair few wereequally starstruck with Harry, too, and it meant that yet again, they didn’tget the relaxing couple’s holiday they planned. The remaining seven days werespent dodging autograph seekers and then, less charmingly, Rita Skeeter, who’dgot word of where they were staying and started popping up to ask ridiculousquestions, hoping for an exclusive.

Of course, they’d regaled Ron andHermione with the story when they’d got back. It wasn’t that they had had atruly awful time—and the two of them, with their respective upbringings, werewell aware of how lucky they were to be able to afford holidays at all, letalone such expensive ones in such lovely places. Still. The idea of a nicebreak, just the two of them, and no interruptions seemed to be unobtainable,much to their chagrin.

“It’s because you’re cursed,” Ronhad said solemnly. Once again, it was clear he meant it as a joke. And yet…

Busy work schedules, for both of them,meant that they didn’t plan another holiday for a good while. It wasn’t untilthe following summer that they planned to go away again, and this time, theydid extensive research, read every single review going, and booked under fakenames. Anything they could possibly do to ensure that things would goswimmingly, they did. All was looking very positive: they had rented into anextremely exclusive villa on one of the Greek Islands, on the recommendation ofone of Ginny’s teammates. Tamsyn swore that it was genuinely the best holidayshe had ever had, so the two of them started to relax.

This, finally, would be the holiday. The one to make up for allthe other rubbish ones; the one where everything would be perfect, and the onewhere no one would recognise them, as they had booked under the name of Danieland Bonnie Grint.

Three weeks before they were due toleave, a letter arrived at the breakfast table. The villa had burned down.

“…full refund…assure you thatno one was injured…regret we are unable to offer alternative accommodation atthis stage…” Ginny read aloud. She looked at Harry.

“Insurance job,” they agreed inunison.

*

“I’m not being funny,” Ron said,“but I think that you genuinely are cursed. You just cannot have a goodholiday. It was when we were on the run, see. The camping cursed you.” The fourof them had met for dinner, and Harry and Ginny had filled them in on theirlatest holiday shenanigans.

“Don’t be silly, Ron,” Hermionesaid, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Of course it didn’t. Have you been ableto find anything else?” She addressed this last to Harry and Ginny, who bothshook their heads.

“Sadly not,” sighed Ginny. “Wewanted to go somewhere hot, and also somewhere private after last time, and theonly places we’ve found now look a bit dodgy, really. Everywhere’s booked up,as you’d expect in July. It’s a bummer.”

“There’s worse things that couldhappen for sure,” Harry added, “but it’s still annoying.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Hermione saidsympathetically. “Maybe you could get something later in the summer?”

“That’s the plan,” Ginny said. “Wewere thinking—”

“It won’t work,” Ron interrupted,“because you’re cursed!”

“Oh, Ron!”

“I’m starting to think you’reright,” Ginny said, laughing. “We just can’t catch a break—literally!”

“The camping cursed you,” Ron said,looking at Harry with a grave expression on his face. “And you by association,”he added, nodding at his sister.

“That clearly isn’t true,”said Hermione in her logical voice. “You and I spent the entire time withHarry, and none of our holidays have been cursed.”

“Well now they will be!” Ron exclaimed. He picked up his beer glass andhalf rose from his seat. “Quick, look, there’s an empty table over there! Let’srun now, before the curse catches up with us, too!”

“We’re doomed,” Harry agreed. “We’recursed! Save yourselves while you still can!”

“Honestly, you two, that is nothow curses work! You should know this by now. You have to be cursed by someone,and—” Just then, their food arrived, cutting Hermione off. Distributing thedishes took a few moments, but once everything was settled, Ginny regarded theother three thoughtfully.

“D’you know, I think you’re right,”she said. “I think we could be cursed.”

“I can feel it in my waters,”agreed Ron, taking a big bite of burger. “Cursed.”

Hermione huffed in exasperation. “Thatreally isn’t possible, and—”

“The more you say it, the more trueI can feel it becoming,” said Harry, nodding at Ron. “I fear we are doomed toawful holidays for the rest of our lives! Whatever will we do?!”

“I don’t know if I can survive it,”Ginny said, pretending to wipe away a tear.

“You’re all being absolutely ridiculous—”

“There’s only one thing you cando,” Ron said. They all looked at him. He assumed the air of one who as reachedtrue enlightenment. “Break the curse.And also chuck us the ketchup, ta.”

“Now you’re talking,” Ginnysaid, waving her fork in his direction. “Wait. How do we do that?” Harryshrugged.

“I think it’s obvious,” Ron said. “To break the curse, you have tothink like the curse. Act like the curse. Becomeone with the curse.”

“Oh, honestly! How many years of magical education between you, and youpersist in indulging in these wild conspiracy theories which have no basis inthe reality of how cursing actually works!” Hermione looked like she was on theverge of the apoplexy.

“What you need to do,” Roncontinued, ignoring this, “is go camping again. The two of you, a tent, aweekend in the wilderness. Or, I dunno, some campsite somewhere. I guess itdoesn’t matter. But the point is, if you go camping together, and have a goodtime, I am convinced the curse will be lifted and you’ll have no more holiday problems.Boom. Sorted. Am I a genius or am I a genius?”

“I think it could work,” Harrysaid, playing along. “Gin? How about we dig those tents out again and go?”

“I’m up for it,” she agreed. “But Ithink we should consult an expert.”

“Bill?” asked Ron, confused.

Ginny shook her head. “Hermione?You are clearly the expert on all things curses at this table. What say you?”

Hermione looked like she might explodewith frustration, but just then the waiter came to ask how they were getting onwith their food. They all assured him it was lovely, then attention turned backto Hermione. Who was now not looking frustrated at all. Indeed, she had anexpression on her face which might best be described as ‘dangerous’.

“I think Ron’s idea could wellwork,” she said, taking a sip of wine to allow for a pointed pause. “If you doit properly.”

“…properly?” asked Ginny.

“You can’t just go camping andthink it’ll fix everything,” she said. “You have to go camping the muggle way.No magic.” She speared a carrot, looking satisfied.

“What’s muggle camping? How’s it different?”asked Ginny.

Hermione smiled. “Oh, you’ll see.”

to be continued…

[grayskies317]

Saviour - Chapter 2

Barely drifting in between her medicated sleep and consciousness, Sister Bernadette was beginning to become aware of the hushed voices near her.  She tried to focus on each voice to pinpoint its owner, and as she came closer to consciousness, it became easier to discern that the voices belonged to Trixie and Constable Noakes.  

“She is still heavily medicated for the pain.  She just only regained consciousness in the last twenty-four hours.  Is this entirely necessary right now, Constable?” Trixie was being quite stern with the constable about something, but Sister Bernadette wasn’t entirely sure what.  

“Nurse Franklin, I understand her fragile state, but we must get more information.  This is a very time sensitive situation and we’ve already lost six days.  I’m sorry, but I must insist,” he retorted.  

Just about that time, Sister Bernadette had awoken enough to insert her own curiosities of the situation. “What’s all the fuss about? What do you need from me, Constable?” she asked in a raspy whisper as her throat had become parched yet again.  

Trixie rushed to her side with a cup and straw, “Oh sweetie, don’t try to say too much.  Here, have some water.  Small sips now.”  It was amazing how Trixie could go from so feisty to so caring in a matter of seconds.

“Sister, I need to ask you a few questions about the attack.  Do you feel up to it?  It really is of the utmost importance that we get this settled as soon as we’re able,” Constable Noakes said gently.  

After a few more sips of her water and her throat feeling a bit smoother now, Sister Bernadette told him to begin his questioning and she’d do her best to accommodate his requests.  

“Sister, did you know your attacker?”

“I don’t recall ever even seeing him.  It was all such a blur.  I’m sorry, Constable.”

“That’s okay, Sister.  Can you just tell me what you do remember of that afternoon?”

“Sure.  We had just delivered the Carter twins, and Doctor Turner and I had just finished a conversation about how difficult it was when I rode away heading for Nonnatus House. Just as I rounded the corner I remember being pulled from my bicycle.  I think I was very tired or maybe lost in thought because I never even saw anyone standing there when I came around the bend.  I remember feeling blow after blow, but the blow to my head came first, if my memory serves.  It seemed like an eternity, but I’m sure it wasn’t but a few moments before I blacked out,” Sister Bernadette was quite surprised with herself.  She had managed to stay so calm even recalling and restating such a traumatic experience.  

“Do you remember anyone else coming along behind you?”  Constable Noakes asked.  Sister Bernadette could only assume he was making mention of what Doctor Turner had told her about coming after her.  She pondered for a second, trying to review each sketchy memory of that afternoon, but couldn’t recall knowing at any moment that anyone else was there besides her and her attacker.  

“I can’t recall anyone else there, were there two attackers?” Her mind had taken a twisted direction all of a sudden, but she hoped that her initial thoughts were correct and that it was all just in reference to Doctor Turner coming through to find her.  

“No, Sister.  Just a routine question.  Want to make sure there weren’t any witnesses to the attack,” Constable Noakes explained.  

“Oh, okay.  Thank you for the clarification.  Did I answer all of your questions, Constable?  I think I may need to speak with the Doctor now,” She asked with hopes that it was all over for now.

“No, that’s all, Sister.  Thank you for all of your help so far.  We’ll call again soon.”  And with that, Constable Noakes excused himself to go about his other business.  

Without missing a beat, Trixie piped up, “So you don’t remember anyone coming right behind you once the attack started?”

“I don’t remember it, but Doctor Turner told me what happened, if that’s what you’re referring to,” Sister Bernadette confessed.  

“I would have never thought he had it in him to give such a beating.  I never realised the lengths he’d go to for someone.  You must mean a great deal to him, Sister Bernadette,” Trixie said in an almost accusatory tone.  

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about Trixie.  I’m sure he would have come to the rescue of anyone one of the Nonnatuns,” Sister Bernadette quickly retorted hoping desperately that she wasn’t blushing at the thought that Doctor Turner thought so highly of her.  

“Sister, I don’t doubt that he’d come to our aid in a time of need such as this, but I don’t think you understand the extent of what happened. I don’t believe that our heroic doctor has given you the complete story,” Trixie insisted before she continued, “Not only did he stop the attacker, but he beat him nearly senseless.  The man needed stitches when he got to the prison doctors.  Anyway, once they left with you in the ambulance, I found Doctor Turner sitting in his car on the side of the road.  He was sobbing; it was a way I’ve never seen him.  I decided to sit with him for a little while to make sure he was okay, but before he calmed down, he kept sobbing ‘I can’t lose her.  What if he killed her?’ He had to fill me in on what happened, of course, but I had no idea he had such feelings toward you.  Sweetie, you know I won’t tell a soul, but is there something going on with you two?”  Sister Bernadette was speechless, not just from the bold question, but from the extent of the situation.  She knew that she had been fighting some incredibly strong feelings for Doctor Turner, but she had no idea that he harboured feelings just as strong – if not stronger.  

“No, Trixie, we have nothing going on.  I do thank you for your offer of discretion though.  I had no idea that he felt that way, too, though.”  Before she realised what she had said, it was too late.  

“You have feelings for him too?!” Trixie nearly squealed.  

“Trixie! ��Lower your voice!” Sister Bernadette scolded.  

“I knew it!  I won’t say a word, but please tell me what you are going to do about this,” Trixie pried.  

While at first, she regretted the words mistakenly escaping her mouth, it now felt like a bit of relief washing over her to not have this secret hanging over her.  The idea of having someone to share this burden with was a nice one, so with that, she opened up.  She knew she could trust Trixie.  

“I’ve been fighting with these feelings for a while now, but I have vowed myself to God.  It has been a constant battle.  I’ve not breathed a word of this to anyone, especially Doctor Turner.  I’m terribly torn between my vows and my heart.  I intend to discuss my doubts in my vows with Sister Julienne, but I have to tread carefully as to not lead her to believe that I doubt them just over ‘some man’ because it is much deeper than that.  Trixie, please take this in confidence.”

“Not a word, my dear.  I’m so sorry you’ve been left to struggle with this.  I couldn’t imagine what you must be toiling with right now, but at this moment, you just need to focus on getting better.  I heard the doctor say they will let you go home in about two days if you continue with this progress,” Trixie said in the kindest manner possible.  It was quite evident that she was showing every ounce of sympathy she could for the situation.  And with that, the nurse on duty came in to tell Trixie that visiting hours were over and Sister Bernadette needed her rest.  They said their goodbyes and Trixie was on her way.  

 ..2 DAYS LATER..

Sister Bernadette was being discharged, but was advised to stay away from nursing duties for at least another week.  Sister Julienne was advised to use her professional discretion beyond that point. As the sisters rounded the corner, Sister Bernadette immediately noticed Doctor Turner waiting for them.  Before she could ask any questions, Sister Julienne explained, “Doctor Turner has graciously offered to drive us back home so you won’t have to make the walk or take the public transport in your condition.”  “Of course, he did.  My hero,” Sister Bernadette thought to herself.  

“Thank you so kindly, Doctor Turner,” Sister Bernadette offered as sincere thanks she could without revealing too much.  She was too unsure of herself after learning of his reciprocated feelings.  

It was a silent ride back and she thanked him once again upon arriving to Nonnatus.  Once she got in, she sought out Trixie.  “Would you care to go for a short walk?  I can’t go far, but I think the fresh air would be good for me.  I hate to go alone in my condition.” She used her condition as her excuse, but she was also still a bit scared after the attack that continually played over and over again in her head.  

“Of course, sweetie.  Let me grab my sweater and we’ll go,” Trixie replied in her normal chipper tone.  

Trixie let Sister Julienne know that she was going for a short walk with Sister Bernadette and then they were on their way.  They didn’t say much outside of general small talk, but Trixie knew that Sister Bernadette just needed someone by her side for a bit. They had made it a few blocks from Nonnatus and were about to turn back when they both heard the voice of an irate Scottish man behind them, “SHELAGH!  SHELAGH! I KNOW IT’S YOU, YOU NASTY BITCH!”

“Oh dear, I would hate to be Shelagh.  He sounds truly dreadful,” Trixie joked before looking over at Sister Bernadette to find her face white as a sheet.  

“I am Shelagh. RUN!” That was all she could get out and Trixie didn’t ask a single question.  The adrenaline had taken over Sister Bernadette’s weak lung and the two women were running as fast as they could.  Trixie snatched Sister Bernadette and ducked into a doorway and banged on the door. Doctor Turner opened the door and Trixie forced her way in with Sister Bernadette in tow.  Before he could say a word, Trixie snapped, “Shut the door doctor and hush!”