#WAIT A FUCKING SECOND BERTIE TELLS HIM TO LEAVE?????
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so you're not actually telling me that bertie proposed to leave together to the country and jeeves said i'll resign if you do that. like all the other gays. LIKE ALL THE OTHER GAYS
#actually being gay does not make you gay its failing to run away together#i fucking lost it when jeeves said that i actually had to pause it and make this post#its because of a trombone and its not actually running away together but my point still stands#why must you hurt me like this#jeeves and wooster#WAIT A FUCKING SECOND BERTIE TELLS HIM TO LEAVE?????#this is good omens all over again huh
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"I can't remember the last time I had a conversation with my mother that wasn't her telling me chores or schoolwork to do, or telling me off for not doing them."
Alice sat still for a moment before budging frank, "Hey. I've been meaning to ask you-"
"Hm?" He hummed in reply.
"Have you done your potions essay yet?"
Frank groaned and threw a sweet wrapper at her, "Fuck you."
She laughed and carried on, "It's due tomorrow, Frank. You don't want to disappoint your teachers do you?"
"Oh Merlin", he sighed, flopping backwards on her bed, "I think you're the most annoying person I've ever met."
She grinned and laid down too, turning her head to look at him. He looked back and they stared at each other for a few seconds.
She poked the skin above his lip, "Is that a moustache coming along?"
"Wait are you serious?" he jumped up in excitement, "do you have a mirror on you?"
Alice grabbed a small compact mirror from her bag and passed it to Frank, who immediately brought it up to his face and admired the small amount of hair slowly growing.
"You think I'm gonna ever have a huge beard, like Dumbledore or something?"
Alice laughed, "If you do, I'll help you braid it."
He stood with his hands on his hips, passing the mirror back to Alice, "since when do you know how to braid hair?"
"I have many skills, too many to tell them all to you."
Frank sat back down with a small laugh, "Of course, of course."
"Hey guess what?" Alice said, fiddling with the sweet wrapper.
Frank titled his head, "Hm?"
Alice grinned, "Mcgonagall gave me a biscuit."
He gasped, "She what?"
"Jealous?" She laughed.
"I've been dying to win her over! She still hates me and Kingsley for accidentally cheating on her last test!"
Alice laughed and laid back down, Frank following suit.
"Maybe you can win her by beating Slytherin next week."
Frank smiled back, "I'll work the team so hard they'll be begging for a new captain... apart from James, he'll probably love me even more for it."
Alice snorted, "He's cute."
"You would not be saying that if you were on the team. He's like a mini McGonagall with how much he yells at everyone. Definitely needs to be the next captain though, once we leave."
"Please don't remind me about having to leave", Alice grimaced, "I think I'll throw up."
Frank pulled out a packet of bertie botts beans from his robes, "Pleasant."
He opened the packet and chose one at random, "Oh okay. Yep that's vomit", he spat it out.
Alice moved away from the spat out jelly bean, "I feel partially responsible for that."
#i wrote this months ago but it got lost in the sea of my drafts#tw. mention of throwing up#idk if i need to tag that but just in case?#this is just a random frank and alice moment for fun#marauders era#marauders#frank longbottom#alice fortescue#fralice
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Picture Perfect
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Draco Malfoy x Fem. Reader
Warnings: Sexual implications (a lottttt of them)
A/N: I might do a part two to this...
Word Count: 1,635
“Like them? I love them.”
__
You watched with anticipation as Draco popped another one of the Bertie Botts Flavour Beans into his mouth. His sculpted jaw moved up and down as he chewed. His eyes suddenly shut tightly and his face contorted into disgust. You leaned forward a tad, curious to see what mystery flavor he had picked. He swallowed hard and coughed at the foul taste.
“Soap.” He sputtered, reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table.
You bursted into laughter, laughing even harder at the way he brought a hand to his chest as the taste dissipated from his tongue. He grinned at you from over the rim of his glass, taking another sip.
“Your turn.” He said.
This was a game of sorts that you and Draco liked to play whenever the two of you made a trip to Hogsmeade. Honeydukes Sweets Shop was your absolute favorite place to go and make pleasurable purchases. There were endless rows of candies and other tooth rotting snacks that were your ultimate guilty pleasure.
You were always sure to snag a new box of Bertie Botts Flavour Beans. You and Draco would sit in his private, prefect room and take turns selecting a bean and seeing which flavor you were bestowed with. You were snug in one of his Quidditch jumpers, your legs wrapped around his waist while the two of you sat on his bed.
Draco was always less fortunate than you during this game.
You took a bean into your hand, taking a breath when you put it in your mouth. Your tense shoulders relaxed when you started chewing. A delicious, fruity taste flooded your tastebuds, a cheeky grin appearing on your face. Draco threw his head back in exasperation at the sight of you getting yet another good flavor.
“Again?” He asked.
You nodded.
“Cherry.” You smiled, swallowing the small candy.
Draco’s blonde eyebrows raised, a devious look crossing over his face. His hands rested on your thighs that were secured around him, leaning forward.
“Mmm. Do you mind sharing?” He smirked.
You hummed affirmatively, capturing his lips in a hot kiss. His tongue danced with yours, tasting your familiarity and the traces of cherry candy. His hands went to the side of your neck to bring you closer, while you gripped at the collar of his sweater. His kisses muffled your girly giggles, a chuckle vibrating out from his own chest.
You tapped his shoulder to pause your make out session, a mumble of realization sounding out from your throat. He whined when you stopped kissing him, but based on the bright look on your face, you had something in mind.
“I have something for you.” You announced in a playful way.
His gray eyes darkened a touch, his fingertips drumming on the skin of your leg.
“Is that so?” He questioned, making guesses already in his head.
You were giddy with joy as you scrambled from his array of blankets and his comforter. You reached into your backpack, pulling out a solid black book with a red bow on it. It was a rather large book, about the size of his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Draco felt a quick surge of panic. He was the worst about remembering holidays and birthdays, and he instantly thought that maybe he had forgotten something special.
“Don’t get mad if I have, but...did I miss something?” He asked.
You let out a snicker as you rejoined him on the bed. Ever since he had forgotten your birthday a few months ago, now he was always afraid he was going to miss something else.
“You haven’t. This is just something I’ve been working on.” You bubbled up gleefully.
You set the book on his lap, watching as his eyes raked over the cover. He felt a warmth in his chest at being given a gift just because you cared. He pushed the bow off of the sides of the book, opening the cover to see a little note you had written for him, signed at the end with your name and everything. The thick pages indicated to him that it was a picture album.
He turned to the first page, an unmistakable smile of jubilation appeared on his face. The first two pages each had four Polaroid like pictures secured evenly. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different outfits and in different locations. Draco’s heart was beating with exuberance in his chest as he looked through the first couple of pages.
“Oh, darling. These are great,” He praised; “They’re positively stunning. They-”
His sentence was cut short when he got about halfway through the pages, his voice getting caught in his throat when the pictures immediately took on a new theme. His smile faded into a shocked, slight jaw drop. The second half of the book was filled with sultry, boudoir style photos. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing your school robes, but the only thing you were wearing underneath was one of Draco’s Slytherin uniform ties settled between your breasts.
In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, black colored set that almost made him faint right then and there.
He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and even a bit embarrassed that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling.
You fiddled with your hands in your lap, uncertainty in your tone as you spoke up to break the silence.
“I...do you like them?” You wondered, hoping to get a positive reaction.
Draco’s eyes never left the book. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on his bed and giving a look so seductive that it made Draco’s belly flutter. The sight of you naked on his bed...it was hot.
“Oh, baby. Darling, my love...” He breathed out, trying to complete at least one full thought; “Like them? I love them.” He almost growled.
You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of excitement as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, a hot blush creeping onto his cheeks.
“You’re so stunning...so sexy.” He purred.
You laughed shyly, a bashful smile washing on your face. You rubbed his knee, your hand feeling like electricity on him. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming more dirty than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.
“Who took these?” He pondered, wondering which one of your lucky girl friends had the pleasure of seeing you actually model these outfits and strip down naked.
You just had to take advantage of this moment. You couldn’t help but mess with him just a little bit. You choked down the chuckle that would surely give you away.
“Potter.” You lied.
Draco’s head snapped up so fast and his eyes filled with an indescribable look of hot jealousy. He chest tightened, but relaxed when he realized you were kidding based off of your burst of laughter. He sighed harshly and rubbed his forehead as you laughed at his intense reaction. The thought of you asking Harry Potter to take these photos for you filled him with such a rage, but he even laughed it off when he knew you were joking.
“That’s not funny.” He said pointing a finger at you, and continuing to go through the photos.
Your giggles died off, and you answered him honestly.
“Pansy took them. That’s how I was able to sneak in here when you weren’t here.” You explained.
Draco nodded, his jaw still slightly ajar as he loomed over them. You patiently waited as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. You knew one thing for sure.
He was going to rock your world tonight.
Over the last year or so of dating you, he tried not to be so aggressive when it came to your sex life. He tried not to pounce on you every time he felt turned on. He knew that sex was supposed to be the ultimate romantic connection, and not always supposed to be rushed. After those pictures though, he wanted you BAD. You could tell he was antsy, waiting (and also praying) for you to give him the okay.
You leaned in, your lips just barely brushing over his, before you brought your lips to his ear. You purposely let out a wanton moan in his ear, a tantalizing sound to your voice.
“Touch me, Draco. I know you want me.”
In a millisecond, Draco was on you. He kissed you roughly and pushed you down onto his mattress. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you.
“What are the chances of you wearing one of those hot little outfits under this jumper?” He said in a steamy voice.
You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. You rolled your hips into his, trying to create some friction. You threw him a wink, your response sending him into full fuck mode.
“Why don’t you find out?”
#draco#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x female reader#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy smut#harry potter draco#harry potter#seriouslysnape
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Detention // Draco Malfoy
A/N: This is a request for @youknowiloveyou-so I hope you like it! The prompts you choose got me super excited. The beginning is rough because we have limited knowledge of what really went on inside Hogwarts during the Deathly Hallows, but I did my best.
Summary: During Y/n and Draco’s 7th year at Hogwarts some of the Professors aren’t very forgiving, and Y/N gets punished by one of them. Angst and fluff follow.
Warning(s): SPOILERS!!! Graphic descriptions of violence(tw: knives are used to cut character’s arms), mentions of blood, swearing
Word Count: 3.4k
Prompts: #2 #10 #19 #29 #58 #96
{Prompt list}
This is not what Y/N imagined her final year at Hogwarts to be. To be fair, it wasn’t what anyone imagined it to be. Now with Snape as headmaster, things weren’t exactly pleasant. Not to mention the fact some of their professors had been replaced with Death Eaters.
Y/N was lucky to even be attending Hogwarts. Her muggle-born friends had not been allowed back into the castle. But perhaps that was better for them. That way, they wouldn’t be forced to cast the unforgivable curses onto other students.
The only thing bringing Y/N joy during these times was her boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. He was higher up on the totem pole than most students, due to his status as a Death Eater. Y/N thought at first that being his girlfriend might prevent her from being bullied by the professors. She was wrong. This seemed to make her stand out more to her professors. They loved calling on her for almost every question. They would sneer at her when they called her name, and when she didn’t know the answer to their inquiry, they would say demeaning things like, “Would you look at that, Malfoy’s toy isn’t very smart is she?” The class would then be forced to laugh at the professor’s joke.
Somehow, Y/N had managed to make it through the first of three terms without getting in trouble. But that changed when she walked into her Muggle Studies class with Professor Alecto Carrow.
“Sit down. Hands out in front of you on top of your desk, you know the drill,” Professor Carrow said.
Y/N dreaded Muggle Studies. The class consisted of Carrow spewing complete lies about muggles and the muggle world. Almost every lesson would begin with calling on a pureblood student and then asking them to pick a half-blood student to practice hexes and jinxes on. Y/N had avoided being chosen to do this because many of the students selected by Carrow would refuse. This resulted in them receiving detention, not to mention continuously being called on every class until they caved and did what Carrow had demanded of them.
Y/N could only imagine what was done to those students in detention. When they’d come back to class the next day, they’d have numerous cuts all over their faces. Or sometimes they’d be limping around. On a few occasions, they’d come back without a finger. Poor Madam Pomfrey could only heal so many students.
But today, when Y/N sat down at her desk and placed her palms face down on the cold wooden desk, she knew something was up. She watched as Professor Carrow scanned each student's face before her eyes stopped on Y/N’s.
“Ms. Y/L/N. Why don’t you do the honors of picking a half-blood? You haven’t got to choose anyone yet, and I believe it’s about time you did.”
All eyes turned to her. Y/N begrudgingly rose to her feet, but she stayed silent.
“Pick someone before I pick for you,” Carrow commanded.
Y/N remained silent. There was no way in hell she was going to hex anyone simply for the amusement of a Death Eater.
“Pavarti Patil. Stand up.”
Y/N’s heart stopped. Parvati was one of her closest friends. They’d grown up in the same neighborhood, they used to play gobstones every Sunday. Y/N thought of Parvati as a sister. There was no way she’d ever be able to hurt her.
Y/N heard Pavarti rise from her chair. She couldn’t bring herself to even look at her friend. It would’ve made the situation that much more real. But Carrow didn’t like this. With a flick of her wand, she forced Y/N’s head to turn. Pavarti looked utterly terrified. The pit in Y/N’s stomach grew.
Carrow smirked as she said, “Cast the stinging jinx.”
“No,” Y/n said firmly. A few gasps could be heard. Nobody had explicitly told Professor Carrow no.
“The sea urchin jinx, perhaps?”
“No.”
“I’ll suggest one more, Densaugeo.”
Densaugeo was a hex that elongated a person’s teeth. It was an awful experience for the unlucky victim, and Y/N was not about to cast it on Pavarti. So once again, she said,
“No.”
It was like a switch flipped, and suddenly Carrow raised her wand and shouted. “Imperio!”
An eerie sense of calm overtook Y/N. Without thinking, she raised her wand towards Pavarti and said, “Densaugeo!”
Pavarti squeezed her eyes tight as the spell was cast. Then she began to shriek. Her teeth began to grow and grow. Students gasped as they watched the horrific sight in front of them. Some of the Slytherins laughed when Parvati started to cry. Her two front teeth were now past her chin.
Y/N lowered her arm, still feeling calm. Once the laughter died down, and Pavarti was able to catch her breath and stop her tears, Y/N cast another spell; the sea urchin jinx. Little spikes began to burst out from underneath the Gryffindor’s skin, her screams once again filled the air. Spikes burst underneath her eyes, in between her fingers, and even around her neck. One wrong move and she could seriously injure herself. She stood with her arms outstretched, tears once again falling while students covered their eyes to avoid looking at her.
Y/N only watched as Pavarti cried. She felt no inclination to help her friend.
“Let’s do one more, shall we class?” Professor Carrow asked. This time, she gave her command to Y/N out loud.
“Crucio her.”
Y/N once again raised her wand. Parvati was in hysterics now, pleading for Y/N not to do it. But it was to no avail.
“Crucio.”
Parvati’s body spasmed as jolts of agonizing pain coursed through her veins. Nobody made a peep. The only thing that could be heard was her anguished screams. The spikes on her body pierced her skin every time her body convulsed. Her blood quickly gathered into a puddle on the floor. Y/N didn’t feel anything as she watched the girl howl and writhe. She felt numb almost.
Until Carrow lifted the curse. Parvati collapsed onto the ground, her teeth, and the spikes slowly shrunk in size. Y/N stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her chair as she came to her senses. “I just cast an unforgivable curse,” she thought to herself.
Her heart began to pound as the reality of the situation set in. She looked up at Carrow, who was smiling at her.
“Detention, tonight at eight in my office. Don’t be late.”
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Y/N looked at the clock. It was seven forty. Twenty minutes until she was expected in Alecto Carrow’s office to receive her punishment. Her stomach churned at the thought.
She purposefully avoided Draco for the rest of that day. Whenever he saw her in the hallway, Y/N would turn the other way. She knew Draco would be able to tell something was wrong, and she didn’t think she’d be able to speak the words out loud to him when he asked.
She decided that she ought to arrive early for her detention. Maybe that way it could end sooner. She shifted her bag onto her shoulder and started the walk to Carrow’s office. As she was walking, she heard footsteps behind her.
“Y/N, wait up,” Draco called.
“Fuck,” Y/N muttered as she came to a halt, allowing Draco to catch up to her.
“Where are you off to?” he asked.
“My dorms,” she answered curtly.
“Are you alright, darling?” Draco asked, his voice laced with concern.
“Yes, Draco.”
“No offense but that wasn’t very convincing.I know you’ve been crying. Are you okay?”
“Fuck off, Draco. Leave me alone.”
Draco looked as if he’d been slapped across the face. His eyes flashed with hurt. Y/N instantly regretted her words.
“Shit, I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m not okay. But I can’t talk to you about it. Not right now.”
Draco pursed his lips. He nodded without saying a word, obviously still reeling from her outburst.
Y/N took this as her cue to leave. She didn’t want to cause any more damage. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you later,” she said as she rushed off towards Carrow’s office; she only had a few minutes left to get there.
Draco stood in the hallway, watching her run away. He took note that she took a left turn instead of a right turn. Meaning she was lying about where she was going. His eyebrows knit together. What was she hiding from him?
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Inside Carrow’s office, there was only a desk and a chair. The walls were bare. Carrow paced on the other side of the desk.
“Ah, Malfoy’s toy, you’ve finally arrived.” Carrow walked over to Y/N and promptly gave her a jarring slap across the face.
“That’s for almost being late.”
Y/N kept her expression blank, not wanting to give her any sort of reaction.
“Sit. Hands on top of the desk.”
Y/N obeyed, fear started to settle in her gut. Carrow walked around the desk, running the tip of her wand up Y/N’s jawline as she circled her. She did her best not to tremble, but she couldn’t help it.
“Aww, look at you. Are you scared of me?” Carrow taunted. “You should be.”
Carrow returned to the opposite side of the desk, where she reached inside a drawer and pulled out a bottle of dark purple liquid.
“Drink up,” she said with a smirk.
Y/N knew she didn’t have a choice. She picked up the bottle with shaky hands, pulled the cork off the top, and downed the potion. It tasted like Bertie Bott’s rotten egg flavored jelly beans. She lowered the bottle back onto the desk and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
Her body began to feel cold. Her skin started to turn purple. With every second that passed, she grew more and more chilly until her skin felt as though it had turned to ice. Her teeth chattered, and she began to bring her hands to her chest, but they were abruptly slapped by Carrow.
Her body was shaking uncontrollably, desperately trying to create warmth, but to no avail. Carrow observed Y/N with an evil glint in her eye.
With each minute that passed, her body grew tighter and tighter. First, she lost mobility in her toes, then her legs, then each of her fingers one by one. The panic in her chest rose as the burning cold spread throughout her body. Soon enough, she was unable to move from the neck down. Y/N felt as though she was suffocating, her chest barely rose with her shallow breaths, and her body felt like it was frozen from the inside out.
But before her head froze, Carrow dissolved the effects of the potion with a simple wave of her wand. Y/N let out a huge breath as she began to regain feeling in her body.
“How was that? This potion was banned back in 1954, but I thought it would be nice to brew it just for you. You’re lucky I didn’t let you experience its full effect. Legend has it there are people currently buried underground, presumed to be dead. However, in reality, they’re just frozen solid, but still alive, still conscious.”
Y/N pushed the mental image of being buried alive away. Instead, she began to prepare herself since she knew this wasn’t all Carrow had planned for her. Her suspicions were confirmed when she tapped her wand to Y/N’s arms, sticking them to the desk.
When Carrow pulled a knife from her desk drawer, Y/N really began to panic. She desperately tried to yank her arms off the desk. Carrow seemed to get a real kick from the sight of her struggle.
Slowly and steadily, she pressed the blade of the knife into her outer forearm. Y/N felt the knife break her skin, and she could only watch as blood flowed from the fresh gash. Carrow lifted the knife and once again made another cut on her arm. She did this again and again until Y/N let a sob fall from her lips. The desk was now covered in her blood.
Carrow laughed maniacally as she flipped the knife around, the butt end of the handle facing Y/N’s arms. Without warning, she raised it up and slammed it into the first cut she’d made. Then into the second, the third, the fourth, and so on until she’d dug the handle into every wound on her arms.
Y/N could no longer hold back any of her screams. The sensation of the heavy metal handle being driven and twisted into her cuts was more than she could take. Every time Carrow slammed it onto her forearms, white-hot flashes of pain would jolt through her body.
“What a pathetic excuse for a witch, you are. I mean, really, what does he see in you? You can’t truly mean anything to Draco. I bet he keeps you around just to play with you and use you. You’re just a toy to him. And one day, he’ll grow tired of you, won’t want to play with you anymore. Then he’ll throw you out. You’ll be nothing without him. Won’t you?”
Y/N bit her lip to stop a cry from escaping her throat. Carrow’s words cut deeper than she cared to admit.
“How about we make sure you always know your place, hmm? Let’s give you a permanent reminder of what you are,” Carrow said as she picked up the knife once again and flipped Y/N’s right arm over so that her inner forearm was showing. She dipped the blade of the knife into a jar containing a black, jellylike substance. Then she dug the tip of the knife into Y/N’s flesh and dragged downwards. “This will be good for you. I wonder what Draco will think when he sees it.”
Y/N nearly fainted from the pain of the blade gliding through her. Her arm tensed viciously in reaction to the dark magic being embedded into her skin. At that moment, all she knew was pain. When Carrow had finished, she smiled, “Done. Take a look.”
Curiosity got the best of her, and Y/N let her eyes drift over to her arm. There on her arm, carved into her bruised skin, was the word ‘Toy.’
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Carrow asked.
All Y/N could do was cry. She cried and cried until suddenly, everything went dark.
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Y/N awoke to the sounds of someone weeping. She gradually opened her eyes. There sat Draco, his head in his hands.
He sensed eyes on him and lifted his face.
“You’re awake! Oh, thank Merlin,” Draco said while he wiped away his tears.
Y/N’s first instinct was to look at her arms, they were covered in bandages. She rushed to lift the one around her right arm. She needed to see it, see if it was really there.
Sure enough, the word was still carved into her flesh. The other cuts Carrow had slashed onto her skin were nearly gone, the effects of dittany preventing them from scarring. But it seems ‘Toy’ really would be permanent.
“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, reaching for Y/N’s arm. She pulled it to her chest, not wanting Draco to see. He looked at her with a perplexed expression and reached for her arm again.
“Don’t touch me,” She said firmly. Draco put his hands up in the air, trying to show his girlfriend that he meant no harm. But she wasn’t in her right mind. Whatever happened to her had gravely impacted her. She had never refused Draco’s touch before. He felt his anger grow, his chest began to heave the more he looked at Y/N’s trembling shoulders as she wept silent tears.
Before he could say anything more, Madam Pomfrey came to Y/N’s bedside. She looked at her pitifully and then turned to Draco. “Give her this if she’s unable to calm down. You can escort her back to her dorms now,” she said as she handed Draco a draught of the living peace potion.
The sight of this seemed to frighten Y/N even more. “What is that? What will it do to me? Don’t make me drink it, I don’t want it!” she exclaimed, her panic-stricken eyes shifting back and forth from Draco to Madam Pomfrey.
“Ms. Y/L/N, this is the draught of the living peace potion. It’ll soothe your anxiety and put your mind at ease. It will cause you no harm, I promise.”
Y/N nodded and began to relax, but her shoulders were still rising and falling at a worryingly fast pace.
“Let’s get you out of here. Come on,” Draco said gently, his volume barely over a whisper. Y/N complied and pulled back the covers on the medical bed. She allowed Draco to take her hand as she slid off the cot. He grasped it, softly, wanting his grip to be grounding for her but not aggressive.
He led her through the halls, shielding her from the gaze of onlooking students. All he had to do was look at them, and they’d immediately avert their eyes.
Soon enough, they arrived at Y/N’s dorms. But to her surprise, Draco took her right past the entrance.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“My prefect room. We can talk freely there.”
And so they took a few more turns and headed up the stairs to Draco’s room. His bed was big enough for both of them to sit across from each other, legs crossed. They did so in silence for a few moments before Draco asked,
“Who did this to you?”
Y/N looked at her lap. “Professor Carrow. She gave me detention for refusing to hex Pavarti.”
Draco sighed angrily. He knew there was nothing he could do about Carrow. Quite frankly, she and the rest of the Death Eaters didn’t like him and his family. They thought the Malfoys to be cowards. Confronting Carrow would only result in more taunting of his family, and likely more detentions for Y/N.
“I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done. I knew what I was getting into when I refused. And it didn’t matter anyway, she imperioed me. I had no choice but to hurt Pavarti. I’m sure she hates me now,” Y/N said solemnly.
“Don’t talk that way, Parvati would have to be thick not to forgive you. You were under the imperius curse. She can’t blame you for anything you did to her while under that spell.”
“I suppose you’re right. I still feel bad about it, though. Carrow made me crucio her, Draco. And did you not see her in the hospital wing? She’s got marks all over her body. I did that to her.”
“Stop that right now, you don’t get to blame yourself for this. You said it yourself, you had no choice. You’ve got to forgive yourself, or you’ll never be able to move on.”
Y/N looked up at Draco. He was staring at her intently. He needed her to believe the words he was saying were true.
She nodded and ran her hands through her hair. This seemed to put Draco at ease until he caught sight of her arm. He reached out his hand, silently asking her if he could see her wound. Y/N hesitated but turned her inner wrist outward so he could see. He gently held her arm in his calloused hands. A deep frown settled on his face when he read the word. “She did this because of me, didn’t she?” he asked.
Y/N only nodded, but the confirmation of his question lit a fire in Draco’s eyes. “I’ll kill her,” he said while getting to his feet. “One of these days I’ll kill her,” he was pacing now. “How dare she do this to you.” His voice was laced with venom as he spat his words.
“Draco, you know you can’t do that. And it’s not your fault. I knew what I signed up for when I asked you to be with me. It’s okay. I’m here now.”
“I know I just thought… fuck I’m so angry I —” He stopped mid-sentence and sighed.
“Can I hold you? I need to hold you.”
Y/n smiled softly at him. She held out her arms, and Draco didn’t skip a beat before rushing into them. He lifted her up, putting his hand beneath her for support. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, finally feeling a sense of calm.
Draco swayed side to side, soothing the girl in his arms. “You’re safe,” he whispered into her ear before placing a tender kiss on her nape. He felt her relax in his hold. They stayed this way for quite some time, swaying. Draco made sure to remind her she was safe and gave her many kisses. He then began to hum, hoping it would lull his girlfriend to sleep. It eventually did, but just before she drifted into dreamland, Draco heard her whisper a soft “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
#draco#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x you#draco fanfiction#alecto carrow#death eaters#angst#fluff#request#draco x y/n#7th year#deathly hallows#pavarti patil
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Bad Timing: Kismet
Book: The Royal Romance (AU)
Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC)
Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running she settles in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together.
What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood?
This chapter
MASTERLIST
WORDS: 3,890 🙊
POV: Dual
TRIGGER WARNINGS: None for this chapter. In the future, mentions of domestic violence, and explicit sex scenes.
ALL MY FICS ARE +18
A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors.
I switch between Drake’s and Alexis’ POV several time in this chapter. I hope it’ll be clear enough!
PRESENT TIME
Alexis
After a one-hour bus ride and a 20-minutes walk, I finally find the correct address. When I reach the massive iron gates, I punch in the code Mr. Beaumont’s assistant gave me on the phone and gape as the extensive estate comes into view when I walk through. Acres and acres of super green grass littered with pines surround the massive house in the distance. The closer I get, the more I feel like a foreigner. This might have been my world once, but my new reality couldn’t be further apart from all this luxury. I have fifty dollars left in my wallet, an eviction notice back in my 200 square foot studio, and to top it all, the worst freaking headache I’ve had in my life. Talk about a bad streak. Ironically, I’m happier than I’ve been in years. My life belongs to me; I don’t have to live in constant fear and –most importantly, I’m free. Unattached. I want to do a lot of things with my life, and no one will stop me. That’s worth the worst headache in the world or a few money problems.
I ring the bell, and a gorgeous woman opens the door. Her deep blue eyes scowl at me when I smile at her.
“Who are you looking for?” She doesn’t ask as much as she barks the question.
“Eh,” I haven’t been called shy a single day of my life, but her attitude it’s messing with the positive vibes I had coming up here. “I’m looking for Mr. Bertrand Beaumont from Beaumont Caterings.”
“This door is for house guests only. The help,” she says the word as if it tastes bad in her mouth, “must go around the house and ring the bell back there.” She’s about to close the door right in my face when two hot guys come to the door. Seriously, what do people eat in this country?
“Penelope, what are you doing answering the door like a simple maid? Where is Jessa?”
Penelope rolls her eyes. “She had to leave early. She said she asked you for the afternoon off.”
The older man nods as, the younger one grins at me. “We can discuss Jessa’s schedule later, Bertie. Please, come in, Ms.?” He asks me, still smiling.
“Ortiz. Alexis Ortiz.” I grin back, instantly liking the man with the kind blue eyes. “I’m here for the catering job.”
“I’m Maxwell Beaumont. This is my brother Bertrand—the owner and Penelope Brim, one of our party planners.”
I follow them to a huge office and give Bertrand the resumé I printed at the internet place next to my building.
“Is this all true?” He asks after a quick read.
I nod my head.
“Are you sure, Ms. Ortiz? It says here that you were working as a bartender, a barista, and a waitress in a very exclusive French restaurant, all at the same time.”
Penelope gives me a dismissive glare. “She’s obviously lying. That isn’t even possible. Unless she’s iniquitous.”
I know better than to interrupt a potential employer, even worse if it’s to correct them, but this woman is grating on my nerves. Plus, I had a lifetime of keeping my head down with Matt, and I just don’t have the patience for this kind of crap anymore. And she called me a liar. Hell no.
“No, Ms. Brim, I’m not ubiquitous.” Maxwell snorts, and I swear the other guy, Bertrand, smiles behind my CV. I refrain from telling her what iniquitous actually means because I do need this job. “I worked as a barista in a Starbucks from 5 to 11 am. Then as a waitress at “Clair de Lune” from 12 to 6 pm. Finally, as a bartender in an Irish pub from 7 to midnight or 2 am, depending on the day. You can call any of those places and see I’m not lying.” Just please, God, don’t ask for my papers.
Maxwell reads the resumé when Bertrand gives it to him. “Do you speak French and Spanish as well?”
I shrug. “I love languages, and I grew up in a house where my mom and grandmother only spoke Spanish. I learned French in school. I had an amazing teacher.”
Maxwell and Bertrand look at each other. The older brother, a younger, sterner version of Hugh Jackman, clears his throat. “I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Ortiz. Two of our waiters are absent, and tomorrow we’ll be catering to one of the most important events of the year. If everything in your resume is true, you can start training today --paid of course, and start working tomorrow.”
Paid training? Despite my throbbing head, I want to scream with happiness. “Everything is true.”
“That’s settled then. Penelope, please, darling, show Ms. Ortiz the kitchens and the ballroom. You can ask Naomi to train her for tonight. You know Regina, and she’ll want everything to go as smooth as possible.”
“Right.” Penelope turned at me with an uptight smile. “Come with me.”
I turn and beam at Maxwell, who’s giving me a thumbs up. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
Bertrand shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet, Ms. Ortiz. Just do an impeccable job.” He glances at my Vans. “And for the love of God, only heels tomorrow.”
I nod and follow Penelope down the hallway.
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DRAKE
“This is why you ditch your friends who get hitched to a relationship,” I grumble, sitting in my chair.
“He’s five minutes late,” Liam says.
Leo shakes his head. “Well, I want a goddamn drink. How come I can’t order one until he gets here?”
Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two are acting like children. You can wait five minutes.”
“Maybe, but I need something, and fast.”
“Ah, there they are,” Max exclaims, hands clasped together, staring at us. “My boys.” Jesus Christ. Liam is scooped into a hug and then set back in his chair.
From over Liam’s head, Max points at me and shakes his finger. “Come here; you handsome Walker bastard.”
I hold up my hand. “I’m good.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get to pass up Max’s snuggles.” Before I can move, he swoops to his knees, pulls me into a hug. . . and nuzzles.
“What the fuck are you doing, Beaumont?” I ask, my voice strong as I try to push him away.
“You smell like heaven,” he says, chuckling. No one likes to fuck with me as much as Maxwell Beaumont does. Unfortunately for me, he’s one of my best friends, and the bastard is well aware of it.
“Get out of here.” I palm his face and push him away.
Leo laughs. “Come on, man, you know Walker is a sour bastard.”
With another laugh, Maxwell retreats to his seat, unbuttons his jacket, and sits down. Hands-on the table, he looks between us and declares, “I’m in love.”
Christ. “We know,” Liam and I say at the same time, irritation heavy in our voices. Leo just rolls his eyes as he looks for a waiter.
Maxwell has only been dating Rashad for a few weeks, so it’s no surprise he’s like this—a hopeful idiot with a relentless smile. Hell, he’s been in love with the man for years. It took him a really, really long time to finally make a move. He adjusts his tie as he says, “You don’t have to be rude about it. I’m just sharing. Isn’t that what this is all about? Sharing?”
“Sharing? I thought this was about drinking as much as possible and hooking up with a hot waitress,” Leo says, flagging down our waiter.
When he arrives, I talk above the guys and quickly say, “Macallan, neat.”
“Dalmore, on the rocks, please,” Liam says, and Leo orders the same.
When the waiter turns to Max, he rubs his stomach and says, “You know, a hot cocoa would be perfect right now.”
What the actual fuck? “No.” I step in. “He’ll have an Old Fashion. Thanks.” A little confused and probably slightly disturbed, he takes off as Max complains.
“Hey, I really wanted a hot cocoa.”
“Not happening. First, because they don’t serve hot cocoas here and second because we’re supposed to be out drinking, Beaumont. And you fucking love Old Fashions. You order one every damn time. Stop complaining.”
“Sheesh.” Maxwell unfolds his napkin and sets it on his lap. “What’s up your ass?”
“Nothing.” I push my hand through my hair.
“It’s a girl.” Leo smirks, causing Liam and Max to practically jump out of their seats.
“A girl?” Liam cocks his eyebrow. “Surely not Drake --permanent bachelor, Walker. My fucking heart can’t take it.”
Fucking Leo. “It’s not what Leo is making it out to be.”
“He met her two months ago, and he’s been thinking about her ever since. Magical pussy right there.”
“I swear, Leo; I don’t care for how long we’ve been friends, next time you talk about her like that, I’ll personally break that shit-eat grin off your face”
The clown raises his arms. “I rest my case.”
“What?” Max’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. “Drake Walker doesn’t get attached, and he doesn’t duel his friends for a girl.”
Jesus. Thankfully the waiter brings our drinks at that moment, so I have a second to compose myself.
“You slept with her?” Liam asks after a swig of Dalmore. He’s been in a stable relationship with Hanna Lee for a year now. Once the most popular guy on school, he now spends his Friday nights curled up with her watching Netflix. I can’t even remember the last time he went out with us.
“I don’t want to talk about it. The only reason this fuckhead is bringing it up it’s because I went looking for her, and he saw it.” There I said it. Better me than Leo fucking Rys.
Max and Liam exchange a look, but Max seems too stunned to talk, so Liam asks. “You did what?”
I chug my whiskey and ask for another one. “I don’t know why. I just …” Tired of this fucking conversation, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We had a great time. That’s all.”
“How come Leo knows about this girl, and I don’t?” Liam complains.
Max complains too. “Dude, you know I’m the romantic one. Leo over here has a brick for a heart, and Li is too busy. You need to discuss these things with me.”
“I don’t have a brick for a heart,” Leo says, surprisingly offended.
“No, you’re just still hung up on Maddie,” I say with a smirk. He shifts in his chair but doesn’t say anything. What does it feel, Rys?
“So . . . who is the girl?” Maxwell asks.
For fuck’s sake. I might as well get it over with. “I’m going to say one last time that I’m not interested in her anymore, so before your little hearts starts beating wildly for playing cupid, it’s not going to happen.”
In a snarky tone, Leo replies, “Well, of course, it’s not. She left the country. Are you that bad, Walker? Because I can give you a tip or two.” He’s so fucking annoying.
“Oh.” Max sighs, disappointed.
Leo elbows his brother and says, “He hasn’t slept with anyone since.”
And there it is. The real reason why Leo is worried about this. He lost his wingman. “I’m not an animal, Leo. It’s not the first time in my life that I go two months without fucking. I’m not you. Anyway, all this is pointless. She’s gone.”
My friends grew up with me, so they know when it’s time to stop pushing. Max interrupts the silence that follows because nothing makes little Beaumont more uncomfortable than a gap in the conversation. “Everything is ready for the party tomorrow night. The thirtieth anniversary of Rys Corporation will be a success.”
Liam nods. “Regina talked with Hana this morning. It’s the first anniversary since I took over as CEO. I need everything to be perfect.”
“What about the staff, Max?” Leo asks, smiling. Having sex at every anniversary party is a personal challenge of his.
“We actually hired someone today. She’s gorgeous.” He turns his head at Leo. “But she’s off-limits.” Leo smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean it, dude. Bertrand said he’s tired of looking for new waitresses. Two quit yesterday morning when they found out that the event was for Rys corporation.”
“Hey, I never lie. It’s not my fault if they think I’ll call them anyway.”
“Whatever, just don’t mess with her. Plus, I got to talk to her after her training today. She’s super nice. She’s Am--. Wait.” He says when his phone chimes up. “Sorry, boys. It was a text from Penelope. Apparently, the Chablis hasn’t been delivered yet. I have to call Joelle before I lose my big brother over a wine crisis. See you all tomorrow.” He finishes his cocktail and stands up.
Liam stands up too. “I should go home too. Han arrived today from Hong Kong.”
Leo checks his phone. “Wait, Li. I’ll go with you. I have a date with this girl I met last night at Kismet. Do you want to come, man?” He asks me. “I’m sure she has a friend she can introduce you.”
I shake my head. “I’ll finish my whiskey and head home. See you all tomorrow.”
It was only one fucking night. Why can’t I get her out of my head?
It’s maddening. Or maybe it is a blessing. If I’m still thinking about her after one night, imagine how bad I’d have it after several. It’s best that she stays far the fuck away from me. I’m not interested in long-term attachments of any kind. I don’t want to think about Lexie Ortiz, but she’s infected my brain. The sound of her teasing laugh haunts me.
And I can’t deny it; it was one hell of a night.
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ALEXIS
“This is a single girl’s paradise.”
“No,” I grimace, trying to clean the spilled tomato sauce from my shirt. “Paradise would be a tropical beach with a hot cabana boy giving us free massages... and an endless supply of piñas Coladas.” Naomi laughs, the sound almost lost in the chaos of the kitchen. Chefs shouting orders, Penelope and Bertrand panicking, plates being dropped—the world of catering is a noisy business.
“Cabana boys may have hot smoking bodies and virility, Lex, but they lack two essential qualities: prestige and money.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you’d prefer an old limp dick over a young hard one? Interesting,” I answer, teasing her.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, smart ass. I’m saying I’d take a solid bank account over a solid dick. Think about it—with all that money, he could never fuck me at all, and I couldn’t care less. And I’d be treated properly. Rich guys know how to treat a lady.”
“Trust me on this, Naomi. Money has absolutely nothing to do with how a man treats a woman.” I should know. “In any case,” I retort, grabbing another tray of drinks, “if you’re looking for old rich guys, there are tons of opportunities out there.” I laugh at the dreamy look on her face, partly because it’s hilarious and partly because I know she’s kidding. After my training last night, she invited me to her house, where I met Theo, her little boy. He’s eight years old and the absolute love of her life.
“Speaking of fucking,” she says, her eyes sparkling, “did you see the Rys brothers? One of them is taken, but the other two are single and oh so yummy. Especially the tall and brooding one. I’ll kill for those smoldering brown eyes looking right at my soul”
I snort. “You really should stop reading romance novels, Nao. And yes. I served one of them and his girlfriend champagne earlier, but he was blond and didn’t have smoldering, brooding eyes. I thought they were only two brothers, though.”
“Well, technically, yes. But Constantine Rys --the super-rich owner of Rys Corporation-- adopted two other kids. A boy and a girl. They all grew up together.” She uncorks several champagne bottles as she speaks.
Now that my uniform is clean, I grab one of the Veuve Clicquot bottles and help her pouring the cold liquid into the glasses on our trays. “How do you know all of that?”
“I’m Cordonian, girl. The Rys siblings are almost royalty in this country. The one that is not an actual Rys is the one with the smoldering eyes. He doesn’t work for the company, though. He’s a … a vet, I think.”
A veterinarian like Drake. My stupid heart flutters when I think about him.
“Do we pay you to work or to gossip, ladies?” Penelope screams from the kitchen door.
Naomi and I roll our eyes and grab our refilled trays.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DRAKE
“This is a huge night for Liam,” Regina says behind her champagne glass. Constantine has been telling everyone, especially her, that he’s ready and happy to retire, but she knows him better than anyone. Leaving Rys Corporation and pass the torch to Liam is much more difficult for Constantine than he cares to admit.
“It’ll be all right, Regina. Don’t worry. Liam is more than ready to handle the responsibility.”
She throws a glance at Liam, who’s standing a few feet behind me next to his dad. “I just hope he doesn’t forget that his personal life is equally important. He and Hana work too hard.”
I’m about to answer when one of the waitresses distracts me. Her back is turned to me, so I can’t see her face, but there is something incredibly familiar about the way she moves. She’s passing drinks amongst Regina’s friends. I want to go and see who she is, but Liam catches my eyes across the room. We exchange a look, one that we’ve exchanged several times over our lives. It was Liam and me when we were younger, walking into his father’s office after getting into a fight at school. It was the two of us when we came home late, and his parents were waiting in the living room as we walked in, drunk. It was the two of us when we wrecked Leo’s new Porsche when we were sixteen, and right now, I know he needs me. Constantine is a great father, but he has too many expectations for his younger son. Liam needs a break.
Regina sees the exchange and smiles. “Liam’s very lucky to have you, Drake.” She is not our biological mother, but she loves all of us as if she was. And she’s more my mother than Bianca Walker will never be.
A couple of men look at me, and I try to remember if I should know them from somewhere. I think they’re both on the board of directors at RC. As much as I love the Rys, I will never get used to this shit. Socializing and pretending to like a bunch of people that annoy the fuck out of me. Ignoring them, I make my way to my best friend. Liam is standing with his hands in his pockets, looking serious and put together like the CEO of the largest company in Cordonia should.
“I think it’s going well,” he says as I approach. “Father was driving me crazy with all his advice.”
“It’s not only the anniversary of the company, Li. It’s also his first one as the former CEO. It’s normal he feels out of place.”
Liam nods. “I know. I just wish he’ll trust me more.”
“He does, Liam. He’s just nervous.”
I’m cut short by Liam’s grin. His gaze slides right behind me and lights up.
“Would either of you like a glass of champagne?” a female, very familiar voice nearly whispers behind me.
“I’m good,” Liam answers, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “How about you, Drake?”
I turn around, and my heart skips a beat. Soft curves, tanned skin, and a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. The brightest, most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. Alexis Ortiz tucks a strand of her rich brown hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath. Her eyes widen, and I see she recognizes me but doesn’t mention it. Instead, a faint smile ghosts her luscious lips, and she lifts her chin like she has a secret she won’t tell. A secret we share. Her gaze remains on Liam, almost like she’s afraid to look my way. Finally, she turns to me, and when she does, an adorable blush color her cheeks.
“Would you, uh, sir?” she asks, taking half a step backward.
“Would I what?” I press, enjoying too much the way her cheeks turn even pinker.
“Would you like a drink?” The words leave her lips fast like she wants to pronounce them and run away. I take a step towards her, remembering the night she spent in my arms and how damn perfect she felt. I know I make her nervous because I see little goosebumps erupting on her soft skin. I smirk at her. “That depends on what you’re offering.”
I shouldn’t be toying with her, but I can’t help it. I want to keep her talking, to watch her reactions, to see that sweet smile again.
“I don’t have much to offer,” she says, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Unless you like champagne, sir.” She emphasizes the last word.
“I like all sorts of things.” I keep my gaze heavy against hers, not allowing her to look away. She fidgets with her tray and swallows hard but never takes her eyes off mine, too rebellious to look away. The longer our eyes match, the hotter my body becomes. She bits her delicious bottom lip slowly, her dark gaze boring into mine.
“Is that so?” Liam laughs beside me, and I watch her jump like she forgot he was there. Alexis clears her throat and glances around the room. She turns back to us again, this time a practiced smile on her face. The easy grin and soft laugh are both gone. She wants to get away from me, I can feel it, and I understand. She’s working; it wouldn’t be professional. This is not the time or the place to reconnect. Unfortunately for her, I have other plans.
“Gentlemen ...” With a nod, Alexis walks away as fast as possible. She doesn’t look back, but I watch her until she’s out of sight.
“What was that?” Liam snickers, loosening his gray silk tie. “I thought you were going to jump on her.”
I rub my thumb over my lip, still surprised as hell.
“That was Alexis, the girl I met a couple of months ago. Now, if you excuse me, Li, I need to go talk to Bertrand.”
@mskaneko @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @kat-tia801 @no-one-u-know @thegreentwin @twinkle-320 @forallthatitsworth @kingliam2019 @marshmallowsandfire @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @princessleac1 @twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @drakexwillow @moneyfordiamonds
@yukinagato2012 @alyssalauren
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Check Ignition: Part VIII
The Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person requested and I dove into headfirst
First part // Previous part // Next part
Send me requests for other fics, ideas for this one, opinions, whatever! My apologies if the quality seems to have one downhill; I'll be doing minor edits for the sake of readability when I have a good chunk of free time.
“Shhh, guys, leave it,” Jens said. Everyone’s comments died on their tongues. Zoë and Moyo herded the superfluous students from the room and left as well, shutting the door behind. Moyo almost clapped a hand on Robbe’s shoulder, but seemed to think better of it in favor of a saddened smile. It didn’t really help. Robbe wasn’t sure if they ended tonight on good terms.
“We’re going to bed early,” Aaron suggested. “We have to get a jump on those damn exams.”
“Leave it,” hissed Jens.
“I was just saying, we’re—”
“Leave it.”
“It’s a good idea,” said Robbe. “We’re going to bed early.” He hadn’t realized how angry he was all week until faced with its culmination. And now—now he was tired. Stupid and single and tired.
There were still no sheets on his bed; he hadn’t gotten around to doing anything with them. He could perform a cleaning spell on the mattress if it got too bad in their absence. Whatever. Robbe couldn’t be bothered to rifle through his trunk for a cleaner blanket, so he crossed the room and grabbed the one off the fourth bed.
Motherfucker. It smelled like Sander. He really couldn’t win, could he? Robbe threw the blanket to the decimated floor and curled up without any covering at all.
“He wasn’t that attractive,” said Jens, breaking his own rule. “Had to get those roots done again.”
Robbe clamped his pillow over his ears. “Shut up.”
“We haven’t been to Hogsmede in a while. Might be nice to go tomorrow. The four of us.”
Hogsmede. Robbe’s eyes burned.
“I need to stop at Honeyduke’s,” Aaron agreed. “It’s Live It Up week.”
“I’d fancy a pint at the Three Broomsticks.”
The Three Broomsticks. Robbe was not going to cry over this. It brought him back to Sander explaining their fake love story to Zoë, all the little accurate details, all the possibility… that’s all it was. A story. You don’t like me. He cast the Muffliato charm across his four-poster before the tears started flowing. Once they started, they didn’t stop until morning.
“You don’t have to tell us a thing,” Jens said. “We understand.”
I want to, Robbe thought. He rolled over and faced the wall for the remainder of the night.
***
As much as he would love to hardcore sulk, Robbe had never been that kind of person. Sander was gone. They weren’t even together for that long, so there wasn’t much sulking warranted. He took Saturday and Sunday as unofficial off-days before exams, in that he spent them with Jens, Moyo, and Aaron, pointedly not talking about Sander. They did not go to the Three Broomsticks. Jens passed a whole afternoon in Honeyduke’s, attempting to sample every flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavor beans.
Okay, Robbe sulked. But not hardcore.
Robbe resolved that one Monday he would snap out of it in time to guard his outstandingin his five classes. What should he do? What had he learned? He could start there. Starting there was something.
1. He should never drop a class for someone he wasn’t really dating.
Robbe’s Potions exam was the first on Monday, and he went into it grossly unprepared, despite hours of common room studying. There was a large difference between reading theory and enacting what it said. Plus, a lot of his library time focused more on Sander’s eyes than on the written material.
Everyone else chopped up their beans and sprinkled them into their brews without difficulty. Robbe couldn’t remember how many he should use. In the end, he dumped a whole handful in completely whole and stirred counter-clockwise. How much could it hurt, anyway? He left fifteen minutes before the exam period was up, and the Potions master did not bother to stop him. The Drought of Living Death he prepared could probably kill the whole class, Britt and all, even if not in the way it was meant to.
Why had he stopped attending in person? What could Britt have done to him? It hit him—she probably knew the dating thing was fake from the beginning. Sander might have planned it all out to make Robbe look like an idiot.
That wouldn’t account for that night in the workshop.
Fuck that night in the workshop.
Sander waited outside the Potions classroom, his back on the wooden doorframe. Britt would be done soon. It didn’t give Robbe any satisfaction to brush by Sander without speaking—or at least, not until he saw Sander rubbing his arm in the aftermath. Robbe must have hit him with the door.
“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder, hoping it sounded blasé.
It could have been anyone there, he thought. Sander wasn’t special anymore. Then he went to his bedroom and stared at the wall over it.
2. He was not straight.
The specifics were, as of yet, unclear. He was in love with Sander, which meant he liked boys, but he’d kind of liked Noor too. Not romantically. Or even sexually. But like, he enjoyed her company.
Sometimes.
He wasn’t in love with Sander anymore, though, definitely not. Robbe figured if he told himself that at least four to five times a day, it might become a little more accurate. Two weeks was too short a time to fall for someone.
After all this, he needed to get Jens alone and lay it all on at once. Bad phrasing be damned. The boys began packing their belongings on Wednesday, after a mostly uneventful Transfiguration exam (Moyo turned his cockroach into a pair of earrings that still moved their spindly antennae—he seemed satisfied). They would leave on Saturday afternoon. Aaron tried a simple cleaning spell, Scourgify, and ended up scattering his belongings to the four corners of the castle. He scurried away to pack the rest manually, Moyo at his heels to help.
Jens and Robbe were alone. Robbe was ready to talk about it.
“Why is Moyo always here?” asked Jens, in a way that made it sound like he was breaking the tension.
His plan failed, of course, because Robbe was already speaking. “We have to talk about something.”
They stared at each other. Jens blinked.
“There’s a lot I haven’t told you,” Robbe began. “I wanted to, but it was always so complicated.”
“Uh, sure, okay.” Jens shoved a crumpled shirt into his trunk, followed by a pair of ripped slacks he could never wear to class again.
“This thing I had with Sander… it was fake to him. But, well, uh, to me—”
Jens nodded. “I know.”
Damnit, no.
“Jens,” Robbe tried a second time, “I’ve realized some things about myself recently. They kind of explain other things, from earlier, so…” He switched tactics. Who knew how long until Moyo and Aaron returned? “Do you remember when you and Jana broke up? How you found out about what’s-his-name and—”
Another shirt in the trunk. Some more destroyed pants. “Yeah.”
“Cool. So um, you should understand that it was—” It was never this awkward to talk to Jens before. Jens was supposed to be easy. Robbe folded his shirts by hand, like his mother did, and placed them carefully in his own luggage as he thought of how best to phrase this. “I did it on purpose. She was gonna tell you and I—well I said—”
“You’re not making sense.”
“I know things about myself now. Learned them. From that. and this.” Here it came, the big jump. Even though Robbe knew Jens, Aaron, and Moyo outlined a whole plan to get him and Sander together, he still worried about what they’d say when confronted with the reality of it. “Jens, I’m—"
“I know.”
No, that wouldn’t work. Again, “Jens, please, I’m—”
“It’s okay, Robbe, I know—”
“I don’t want you to know!” Robbe flopped a shirt down harder than he intended. “I want you to let me say it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m gay. That’s who I am. With or without Sander. Okay? I need you to understand that it’s like that with or without him.”
“I—”
“Don’t say you know. You’re my best friend.”
“Okay,” said Jens. “I understand.”
“Good.”
Jens closed his trunk on top of some clothing that spilled out the sides. He sat down on it to close the latch. Then he reached out and gathered Robbe into the tightest hug ever. It wasn’t nearly everything that Robbe wanted to say, but it was some, and Jens didn’t run away from him. Sexuality crisis, somewhat had. Robbe was sure there would be more later.
3. You don’t like me.
Robbe’s final exam was History of Magic. Luckily, his cramming paid off. He breezed through the questions on the first and second wars faster than any of his peers and was out the door within thirty minutes.
Most students were trapped in their classrooms for another half-hour or more. Empty corridor stretched in all directions, and Robbe didn’t have anything to do for the rest of the day. He knew where he wanted to go.
Sure enough, his astronomy tower perch was vacant. Bright sunlight dyed the campus in shades of yellow and gold, made the upper turrets appear as drawings from a children’s book. Robbe noted in passing that someone had collected Sander’s picnic blanket from its forlorn position on the roof. That made sense. Filch himself must have cleaned.
From overhead, soft music played. Robbe was sure he was hallucinating. He sat down on the sill.
Oh fuck, maybe not hallucinating. Noon cast a shadow of someone above onto the roof below.
Sander’s blanket wasn’t where he’d dropped it on night one because Sander sat on the overhang above the window. He had it splayed across the shingles, a compact player oozing the final lines of that same damn song on a loop, his wand gripped in his hands.
Robbe couldn’t escape him. Couldn’t escape how he felt about him. He could bring it under his control if he made it look purposeful.
“Hey,” he said. “Don’t you have class?”
Sander startled.
This was a mistake. Never mind. Robbe should go.
He leaned even further out the window for a better view of Sander’s setup. A stack of textbooks balanced precariously, end on end, held aloft by a complicated charm of some sort. A quill rolled down the roof and stopped as if by an invisible wall. Sander had created a bubble for his things.
“Cheers to exams,” Robbe said, a bit louder. Sander did not look at him. The music cranked itself up to mask Robbe’s voice—perhaps it was spelled to muffle all noise Sander did not want to hear. That wasn’t fair. “This is my spot.”
“You said you didn’t want to be friends,” said Sander. He didn’t sound upset. Why did Robbe expect him to be upset?
“Can you turn down the music?”
“Britt’s going to join me.”
“That isn’t really what I asked.” Robbe wondered if interactions like this would ever stop hurting. But he didn’t feel as bad as he felt last week. Or on Friday night. Maybe the finality of a no was all he needed to move on. He recalled Sander’s speech word-for-word, mostly the end. You don’t like me.
It hit Robbe in a moment of irrational bravery, when Sander’s music dialed up in volume. Their first night in the astronomy tower, together, illuminated by Britt’s wand. The CD playing in the background. Sander knew what he was wearing on a specific double-date on a specific day—there was no denying something existed between them.
And to have Sander talk like that, say it was nothing… it wasn’t nothing, not to Robbe, and Sander needed to hear it.
So he said it. No introduction, no nothing. “I liked you.”
The Major-Tom-planet song quieted. Definitely some kind of magic there.
“I liked you so much,” he said again. Now that it existed, now that it was said, there was nothing to stop him from continuing. “You can’t tell me I didn’t.”
One of Sander’s quills rolled to the edge of the bubble, only this time, it dropped out and fell the length of the tower.
“We made it up, we agreed,” Sander whispered. “I’m sorry.” He slid down from the roof, landing beside Robbe on the sill, then jumped to the floor. His belongings trailed behind him in a floating line.
Robbe stood his ground and blocked the staircase. “It’s not your thing to decide.” His voice softened. “I liked you. So that’s that. And it’s done.”
Sander scuffed the floor with his shoe.
“Good. You never have to see me again.” Robbe pointed down the stairs for dramatic effect. “I have class. Bye.”
He felt lighter than he had all week when he descended the staircase. Any lighter, and he would have missed it when Sander said, “I liked you, too.”
4. He was a jerk to Noor.
Robbe sought her out on the train home, abandoning his friends in their own little compartment. They had plenty to discuss without his involvement. Pranks and whatnot. The usual. Noor was alone in a compartment near the back of the train, a dozen or so scrolls of parchment dispersed around her. She wrote on one with a broken quill.
She wasn’t a bad person. Robbe should have just told her. The least he could do was tell her when everything was over.
“Hey,” he said, taking the seat across from her.
She looked up, surprised. “Hello.”
“You seemed like you could use some company.”
Noor blushed. “No, I—Britt’s sitting elsewhere, and I have a lot to do.”
“With Sander,” Robbe supplied.
“What?”
“Britt’s with Sander.”
“Oh, um, actually—”
Robbe wasn’t in the mood for the nitty-gritty details of whatever Britt and Sander had going on. Obviously it was toxic. Not his problem. Besides, this conversation was for Noor’s sake, not his own.
“Listen, about me and him,” he said. “I need to apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to lead you on.” He hoped it wouldn’t get awkward. The extent of his recent planning was pretty much just say it without warning and hope it works out.
“I don’t read smoke signals,” said Noor curtly. She set her quill down on the seat next to her, ink stains bleeding into the cushioning. “But I get it.”
“No, it was fucked up. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
Awkward silence. Robbe wasn’t built for prolonged chatter with anyone besides Jens, Moyo, and Aaron. The girls’ group was the exception, and only when Jana and Zoë were present. He fiddled with the beginning of a hole in his yellow sweater.
“I suppose I should apologize too,” said Noor, after a while. “That was fucked up, to say he’d get bored of you. I was a little—well, you know.”
“If it helps,” Robbe said, “you were right.”
Noor frowned. She sat up in her seat, and her parchment fell to the carriage floor. The sweets trolley passed by their sliding doorway without stopping—its driver could likely sense the tension. Robbe explained, “He’s back with Britt.”
“No, he isn’t,” said Noor. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Jana said—”
“Who would know better: Jana, or me?”
Robbe fumbled for something to say in response. Actually, now was a pretty good time to get out, before the topic became any more serious. He said, “He broke up with me.”
“It wasn’t for Britt. She helped him through some stuff, sure, but everyone knows that train’s come and gone.”
“I guess I’m just boring,” Robbe said.
“Bullshit.” Noor picked up her parchment again. She dipped her quill into her ink and began her writing anew, on whatever mess this was. Robbe couldn’t read fucking cursive. “I don’t believe it. Britt says he adored you.”
Robbe didn’t know what to make of that. There was no way he could segue into his next point, which was, of course, that their dating arrangement wasn’t real in the first place, especially after something so honest from Noor. He gave a bullshit excuse, something about chasing the sweets trolley, and got the hell out of there.
***
Robbe said goodbye to Moyo on the train platform. Jens and Aaron lived close enough that their parents parked in the same general vicinity, meaning that they could walk over as a trio. Robbe considered awaiting Sander on the platform as well. Every time he learned something new about Sander’s behavior when he wasn’t there, he got more and more confused. What fake relationship could be convincing enough to have Sander’s ex lamenting its reality?
The boys shared idle gossip on their way to the parking lot. Nothing substantial. Robbe’s head was too full of thoughts, most of them Sander-related. He wasn’t angry, or upset, or tired right now. How did knowing one little thing from Noor make a difference in his overall mood? They split off to their respective parents with casual goodbyes and a promise to write at least once during the holidays.
“Hey,” called Jens, just as Robbe opened the shotgun side.
Robbe turned back, his rucksack swinging off his shoulder. He swiped a hand across his eyes.
“Were you in love with him? Actually?”
They spent two weeks together. Two weeks, plus months and months of pining from afar that couldn’t count for much. It was supposed to last longer. What had Sander said, that day after their date? He wanted it to continue through the holiday break. And now, nothing. Robbe summarized this feeling the only way he knew how: “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
He climbed into his mother’s waiting car, and with that, it was Christmastime at the Ijzermans house.
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Careless affection hit me hard
Five times Bertie calls Jonny ‘love’ in the British way and one time in the in love way.
AKA Jonny is a gay disaster and gets overwhelmed by any sort of affection.
On AO3.
Ships: Jonny x Bertie x Tim
Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!
I got this idea from @ohwormhere who was kind enough to let me use it, so thank you!
~~~~~~~~~
One.
Jonny was rummaging through Berties pack. He was planning to steal some booze and didn’t really care the the owner of said pack was looking right at him while he did it with one eyebrow raised and an amused look on his face.
Bertie shook his head when Jonny went on with stealing and sighed: “While you’re going through there, could you at least hand me the cards, love?”
And just like that Jonny froze.
He knew Bertie didn’t mean it like that, he’d heard him call Tim darlin’ enough for him to spot the difference in tone. Bertie was just British, he couldn't help it, probably.
But still that didn’t mean, Jonny didn’t freeze. His one hand was still in the pack, other halfway to the ground where he was about to steady himself.
Jonny only came back to life when he almost toppled over, barely catching himself and getting the attention from Bertie, Tim and TS, who were waiting on him.
“You alright there, mate?” Tim called out.
Trying to hide his furious blush, Jonny turned away, focusing on getting the cards, booze long forgotten as he replied: “I’m fine.”
Two.
The first time it had happened was still playing heavily on Jonnys mind, when the second time almost killed them all.
They were in a trench shooting in the dark, hoping that the aiming at the noises would enough to make it through the day. Jonny was, much to his dismay, on laser fuel duty, which meant keeping his hand in a crate so that he could quickly hand over ammunition and no one had stumble around in the pitch blackness.
Bertie made the sign for more ammunition and Jonny quickly handed it over, making a small noise so Bertie would know where he was.
After a bit of groping the air, Bertie found Jonnys arm. He slid his hand down to Jonnys and took the fuel with a quick: “Ah, thanks, love.”
Because of this Jonny missed The Toy Soldiers request, but luckily it would survive, well come back from, the hit in the head that followed and by the time Tim asked for fuel, Jonny was out of his stupor.
Three.
It happened again a few days later.
The Toy Soldier had heard a stupid order and, in a moment of irritation, Jonny had followed after it to tell it to come back. However, he had lost The Toy Soldier rather quickly and also the way back in the dark.
He had been trying to get back to the British front lines for a few hours already and in that time he had only found a Lunar Men stronghold. It had been a nice temporary distraction, but whatever was left hadn’t given him any clues about his position.
So, now he was just walking in a direction and hoping it was the right one. He was about halfway into a new passage when he heard a familiar voice say: “We’re not going to find them, Bertie-dear. Lets go back. You know how those two idiots can be, they’ll come back when they want to.”
“I am worried, darlin’.” another familiar voice replied, “Because I know how much of an idiot those two can be.”
Jonny wasn’t going to let that slide, so he called out: “Oi, I heard that, fucker.”
There was a momentary silence of surprise, then Tim exclaimed: “Jonny!”
The two soldiers rushed over to his voice and with a dim flashlight Bertie checked him over for injuries. When he found none, he grinned and patted Jonnys cheek: “There you go, love, all alright.”
If there hadn’t been a dim light the heat alone would have been enough to give away how much Jonny blushed at that statement. He cleared his throat and groused: “Yeah, yeah, I’m always alright, so whatever. There’s, well, there was a Lunar Men stronghold further up, we should go inform the sarge of that.”
Jonny didn’t miss Tims grin as he slung an arm around his shoulder and pulled him along while he said: “Whatever you say, Jonny.”
Four.
He thought he would be over it by the fourth time it happened, but no.
They were playing cards when Jonny slipped one out of his hand and into his sleeve replacing it with another. With a winning smile he showed his hand and started to collect his prize. However, another hand on his own stopped him.
“Oh, you’re going to regret that, love.” Bertie told him, looking him straight in the eye.
Jonny almost fainted at the sight and sound, but he managed to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat and focused on whatever it was Bertie was holding in front of him.
An ace of hearts.
Fuck, he thought to himself, that had been the exact card he had switched in order to cheat. Caught in the act, red handed.
Tims stupidly handsome face appeared in his view, with an annoy smirk on it. He jeered: “You going to move, or is Berties hand that interesting?”
“What?” Jonny asked, finally blinking.
“You’ve been sitting there staring for a while now.” Bertie told him gently, “I was getting worried about you.”
Tim leaned over Berties lap and rolled his eyes: “You worry to much, Bertie-dear. Lighten up a bit, the fucker has survived this far, little card game won’t kill him. Besides, he still needs to pay up.”
“He’s Quite Right, Ol’ Chap.” The Toy Soldier interjected, “Mx. O’Reilly Would Be Very Disappointed In That Horrifying Display Of Cheatery.”
“Sometimes, TS, I really wish you would keep you’re mouth shut, you know that?” Jonny told it, swiftly ignoring Tim, whose hair Bertie was now carding his hand through. He didn’t know who he was more jealous of and the fact that he was made him nervous.
Apparently that wouldn't sit right with Tim, Jonny suspected this was more due to the fact that Bertie shared everything with Tim, so him not paying up also affected Tim then anything else, but still.
Tim sat up and draped himself over Jonny as he told him: “Go on, be a dear and pay up, Jonny.”
He put an emphasis on dear and with one look to his face Jonny knew Tim must have noticed his reactions to the petnames, unintentional as they were. It didn’t help his case that his cheeks lit up once more, so he just shoved Tim off him with a “Piss off,” before handing Bertie the booze they had been betting.
Five.
When it happened again, Jonny knew that this time it was on purpose. It wasn’t hard to figure that one out.
The accidental endearments had stopped after the cards-incident and Jonny was already missing them, which he kind of hated himself for. Tim and Bertie were happy together and he was just being stupid over nothing.
Anyway, back to Bertie. Jonny had been waiting for another accidental ‘love’ out of Berties mouth and desperately trying to ignore Tims looks as well as the growing nervousness in his chest as if he were a blushing school girl.
It happened again in a well lit area and Bertie was watching him intently the whole time, which is how Jonny had gathered it was on purpose, making a pit appear in his stomach.
He had almost fallen over, since he wasn’t looking where he was going too busy keeping an eye on Tim, scared of what he might do with the information Jonny knew he had.
Bertie luckily caught him before he befriended the floor and made a fool out of himself. He looked Jonny in the eye earnestly and asked: “You alright, love?”
The effect was immediate, much to Jonnys horror. His cheeks turned into roses, and it crept over his nose, down to his neck as he stuttered an affirmation.
All the while, Bertie was cataloging his reactions like he was merely an interesting animal at the zoo instead of a soldier in a very dangerous situation, namely on the brink of being found out about his stupid feelings that he didn’t want anyone to know about.
He saw Bertie take a breath, probably to let him down gently and Jonny didn’t want to hear it, he couldn't take it. So he snatched his arm back out of Berties grip and hightailed out of there.
“Well that went shit.” he heard Tim say in the background, making him increase his pace.
+ One.
The problem with dramatically stomping away in a small war camp is that there aren’t many places to go and if he wanted a comfortable place to sleep, he would have to face Tim and Bertie once more.
He’d contemplated to just leave and try to find The Toy Soldier, who had gotten lost again to the other side, but thought better of it. He couldn't leave Bertie and Tim without his protection.
So, after he had sulked alone and had come to terms to the embarrassing rejection he would have to face eventually, he made his way back to their tent.
Tim and Bertie were already sitting in front of it and Tim lit up once he saw him and waved. Bertie perked up as well and smiled and waved too. Embarrassed and confused Jonny waved back softly, before making his way over.
Arriving he looked to the ground and scuffed his foot in the moon sand, biting his lip as he waited for the verbal impact of words slung his way.
“I didn’t mean to make you upset or uncomfortable, I swear.” Bertie began after a few seconds of silence.
Jonny head snapped up with a frown and he said: “I was going to say that.”
“What, why?” Bertie asked.
Beside him Tim facepalmed and groaned: “I thought I explained that to you. God, you are both so stupid.”
“Hey!” Jonny exclaimed indignantly, jabs from Tim were at least more familiar territory.
“Not helping, Tim, this is exactly why I am doing the talking.” Bertie told him, then he turned to Jonny, “Just ignore him. What I meant to ask is: why you would say that?”
“Why do you want to know?” Jonny asked, suspicious the moment he realized the other two had planned this conversation, even if that shouldn’t really come as a surprise seeing that they were together and had discovered he was crushing on them.
“Because you didn’t do anything to make us- uhm, me uncomfortable and if the reason is what we expect it is then I can tell you it’s alright.” Bertie explained gently.
“What reason do you expect?” Jonny asked, still on guard, since he suspected the something they suspected, but that seemed insane and out of reach.
“Well,” Bertie began carefully, “if I am correct, and do tell me if I’m not, but if I am correct it would seem that the logical conclusion from the evidence is that-”
“Oh my god, just hurry the fuck up. Ugh!” Tim groaned, “We think you like him and maybe even me or you have the most serious case of touch starvation I have ever seen and then I will give you a hug right now, in both cases actually.”
Jonnys eyes grew wide, both were dead on. Was he really that easy to read? He wondered faintly, before the blood rushing to his head took over and all he could say was: “Ah- uh- oh- uhm- yeah- well- you see- uhm. Yes?”
“Yes?” Bertie asked.
“Uhm, yes, to- to both- or all, I guess?” Jonny stammered once he had regained a bit more coherency.
“Oh, come here, love.” the tone was different, Jonny heard instantly how it sounded more like Tims darlin’ than before. Bertie held his arms open and Jonny just collapsed in them. It seemed almost unreal that this was where this whole debacle had lead, right to the safety of strong arms and a soothing hand on his back.
He felt Tim draping himself over his back, before he whispered in his ear: “I knew you cared, sweetheart.”
The blush on Jonnys face increased in heat once more, but he didn’t deny it. Why would he, when he knew Tim and Bertie cared too?
#RR writing#The Mechanisms#the mechs#Jonny d'Ville#bertie (the mechs)#bertie x tim x jonny#Bertie x gunpowder Tim x Jonny d'ville#gunpowder tim#the toy soldier
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43 with Xavier?
I’ve wanted to explore dark!Xavier with these angst prompts so thank you for giving me the opportunity, anon! 🖤
“You tell me you love me, but do you?”
(gif by codyfernsource)
It wasn’t the first time and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.
Xavier crept into your shared bed, two bunks haphazardly pushed together, blissfully unaware of the late hour and the fact you’d been trying and failing to sleep without him by your side until 4am. He carefully lifted the sheets and slid beside you, spooning around you in the hope his touch would wake you enough for him to kiss you. Or more.
His hands grazed over your bare arms with a warm, wet sensation. Where his fingers traced lazy patterns over your skin, a viscous liquid remained. Your years sleeping beside him since his death made you keenly aware of this familiar presence - blood.
When Xavier invited you to join him and his friends at Camp Redwood, you hoped that meant you were taking the next step in your relationship, or whatever was going on between you and the actor. Sure, he certainly wasn’t a man for commitment or planning the future, but the way he used to smile at you would speak a thousand words. The way he used to draw you in by the waist when he introduced you as his ‘girl’. The way he kissed you in front of his friends, consuming your mouth with his, feeling him smile against your lips, wrapping his arms around you protectively.
But then he died.
The loving side of Xavier Plympton disintegrated the moment Margaret Booth’s knife sank into his back. Someone new came to the surface, someone coarse, someone dismissive, someone violent. He would spend his days wandering camp with Montana, slaughtering whoever crossed their paths. When he came to bed at night, you flinched at his touch in case you were his next victim.
The Xavier you used to know wouldn’t even choke you in the bedroom without repeatedly asking if you were okay.
Xavier’s nocturnal habits became perfect practice to pretend to be sleeping when he stumbled in by the early hours. You maintained slow, restful breathing and sealed your eyes closed nervously. A few seconds passed and he assumed you were out for the count, so instead planted a hasty kiss on your bare shoulder and withdrew his arm.
“Okay babe, sleep well. I love you.” His words sounded as discarded as he made you feel.
“You tell me you love me, but do you?” Your words broke the cool silence in the cabin but you refused to move a muscle, not bringing yourself to even look at him.
“Baby? You’re awake?” He placed his dripping hand on your shoulder and pulled you back to face him, greeted by a firm scowl scrunching up your usually gentile features.
“Do you just say these things out of habit now?” You interrogated, leaning up on your elbows. “It’s been years since the day we died and we’ve gone backwards ever since.”
His jaw dropped and he brushed a nervous, bloodied hand through his blonde locks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’ve always been my girl.”
You sat up and frowned at him.
“Except all the times I’ve caught you gazing at Montana. Hell, even Bertie gets more attention and love from you than me. And don’t you dare blame that on the sexual revolution because that doesn’t change a goddamn thing when you’re in love with someone.”
You whipped the sheets away and headed for the cabin door, Xavier in tow.
“Wait, please — hang on a second, Y/N,” he clutched at your elbow to halt you. “Can you at least let me explain?”
You froze in front of him with defensive folded arms, waiting for the next fabricated story to spill from his lips.
“When I died, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was anymore. You were the only one that kept me going. Waking up here every fucking day would’ve been hell if I wasn’t waking up beside you.”
Looking into his blue eyes was like gazing at the old Xavier again. Confronting him had somehow snapped him back to life.
“Margaret took away a part of me never came back to life. I lost my empathy, I lost my smile, I lost myself. Knowing I’d be stuck in here when I could’ve been out there making a career for myself, that was tough. But I would’ve gone the same way as Jingles if it weren’t for you.”
He wiped his face with both hands to cover his tears, the congealed blood on his hands leaving streaks down his countenance. He stopped and stared at his stained digits, palms thick with dried crimson droplets.
“You see these?” Your eyes wandered down as he instructed. “You know that counsellor that wouldn’t leave you alone yesterday? He won’t be coming near you again, let’s put it that way.”
You hung your head, realisation surfacing that you’d struck a nerve that couldn’t be repaired easily.
“I see red all the time. I see red and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. When I see someone who doesn’t respect you, someone who doesn’t care about you, I snap. You became my reason for existing in this purgatory and I took it upon myself to defend you at any cost.”
“But you don’t need to kill people to make me happy,” you stepped forward to hold his tear-stained cheek in your hand. “You’re what makes me happy.”
“Clearly not,” he flinched away from your touch, sniffling and drying his eyes with his shell suit sleeve. “Not if you need to question whether I love you anymore. I thought you were the only one who wouldn’t hurt me.”
He turned to yank the cabin door out of his way, bowling out of the wooden doors and into the night.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your afterlife, Y/N, it won’t happen again.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
READ PART TWO HERE
#xavier plympton#xavier x fem!reader#xavier plympton fanfiction#xavier plympton imagines#xavier plympton x reader#AHS 1984
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any theories for 1984?? 😳
god there have been so many i’ve seen/read that i’ve also thought of myself, this season is already fucking everyone up but here are just some things i’m 100% sure of or at least things that seem way too obvious:
• brooke and montana
i think we all suspect these two knew each other/have crossed paths and/or are connected in some way. people have been suggesting that they might’ve crossed paths back when montana went to fat camp 14 years ago. i find it sketchy that montana emphasized how many years ago was it that she attended. as if she was trying to remind brooke of something (?) and it’s also weird she happen to go to fat camp around the same time the first massacre occured in camp redwood. maybe the two are connected.
i also ask; what if montana knew one of the victims at brooke’s wedding? at first i thought that maybe she was related to someone but then i started thinking how if that were true, brooke would’ve met her somehow. so given that fact, maybe montana close friend of the groom or of the best man (first guy the groom kills after suspecting brooke had slept with him) and she just simply wants revenge for the death of a friend? who knows maybe she was even one of their secret lovers.
i find brooke’s first rr attack so suspicious. at first when xavier mentions camp redwood (where montana doesn’t even hesitate on agreeing but thats a whole other thing) and invites the gang with him, brooke says she can’t go (i don’t remember why my memory is failing) and they all start to leave. that’s when xavier says the whole “you don’t wanna be in town this summer. it could cost you your life” (or something like that, the point is he point blank told brooke she would die if she stayed) then we see montana give brooke her number telling her that she changes her mind to call her.
then guess what happens? brooke is attacked. what a coincidence 🤪 she survives of course but her wedding ring is stolen by rr. this is what leads me to believe, after it revealed that montana and rr may be working together, the whole thing about montana being connected to someone at brooke’s wedding. brooke isn’t innocent though. something is up with her, at this point if she WAS innocent i think i’d be disappointed.
• xavier/montana/rr
now y’all must know by now that i’m up xavier’s ass. like at this point idc what he does or is, i’ll probably still stan BUT let’s be real... homeboy is skethy. when he’s first introduced he gives the classic cocky asshole vibe, that guy that only thinks and cares about himself and this is kind of confirmed when they hit jonas on the way to camp and his ass wanted to leave him there but wait, jonas is a ghost?? (or so they say) and he seems to be in some sort of loop. now what if xavier knew of this? he knew the fastest way to camp redwood (without using a map) and we are assuming he’d never gone there before so he could know more than he’s leading on.
but this is where it gets a little tricky. i don’t necessarily believe xavier has anything to do with rr’s murders or even anything to do with the attacks at least not by choice or intentionally which would explain the whole “karma” thing he was rambling about at the cabin when they were being harassed by that townsie. he was way too scared and expressing so much guilt for it to be just an act. we’re all saying that we think his little nice guy act is well just an act now that, like i said before, it just doesn’t add up to how he was first introduced to us but what if... he’s somehow being manipulated by rr or montana or both? and he’s now starting to feel guilty seeing all the bodies turn up and his friends almost dying?
in the trailer for x4 we see rr and montana meeting for the first time at one of montana’s aerobics classes. i have a feeling these two became a team and together carried out rr’s first killings. or maybe rr had already killed when he met montana and somehow managed to get her on his side and they became a thing. i think they were the ones to come up with the camp redwood plan when they saw it was reopening. (this could be because the camp is a door to hell? i’ve seen this theory a lot and people saying rr and montana wanna perform a satanic ritual and sacrifice brooke because she’s a virgin)
we know montana and xavier dated before and i don’t think this would’ve brought up unless it was important. i have this gut feeling that it wasn’t such an easy breakup and montana grew to hold a grudge against xavier and is how she manipulated him into joining her and rr. probably throwing around the classic “you owe me” line... THAT or montana is aware of xavier’s situation with blake threatened to expose him. she has xavier go up to the camp before it reopened and that’s how he met margaret and bertie hence him not wanting to leave without making sure they are safe. it also adds up to him knowing the way to the camp.
when rr ends up at camp redwood, when he tries attacking brooke for the second time and then ends up in margaret’s cabin he mentions how a “girl brought him there” and we all assumed it was brooke but what if it was montana? what if that was him hinting his plans with montana, hinting it was all planned.
-
there are so many theories and assumptions but these are just the things that have stuck out and are suspicious
#ahs: 1984#ahs 1984#ahs 1984 spoilers#ahs theories#xavier plympton#montana duke#brooke thompson#cody fern#american horror story 1894#american horror story
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BATIM SPOILERS AHEAD
SECRET MESSAGES FROM CHAPTERS 1 - 5
With a sort of analysis/shitposting on my side? Yea.
Chapter 1
There is like two walls with these, that’s a lot. Is he... aware from the beginning now? I mean someone’s crossing this and Henry is implied to be leaving these messages so...?
Choose your fighter.
Ok wow harsh. Haven’t you seen all these cool AUs in his house?
Also can I just point out how... Joey... literally... drew... the Studio...
Oh, my bad.
He drew STUDIOS. Because the damn thing keeps happening over and over again.
Oh fuck if that’s the case then that is clever. I made puns about him drawing the studio before, wish I did something with it before Chapter 5 dropped, that would be hilarious to look back at fvdfjkvnfkj
That’s just depressing. But like... yeah...
Wow Henry you must be a proud mom now
Hey remember when DAGames played Chapter 4 and was interrupting Alice Angel’s monologue by telling her to stop watch him poop
It spells “There never was a choice.” (never underlined)
Those messages are either hilarious or straight up depressing.
It’s... kinda sweet how Henry from the past (pasts) helps his future self (selfs). And encourages.
I’m pretty sure she’s got many hearts in her stock.
STOP WATCHING ME POOP
Henry what the fuck
The falling human made out of the two Ls, the Y and the splatters above it-
Fuck.
GASPS NO WAY
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He is not the creator of the cartoons. He is the creator OF THIS WHOLE FUCKING STUDIO AND EVERYONE IN IT. Like it’s maybe a sort of obvious thought but when you let it sink in... damn
Rest of the chapters under the cut because it’s really long
Chapter 2
ARE THOSE IRL BODIES? YES? NO? SYMBOLS OF THEIR SOULS BEING TRAPPED HERE? WHAT???
Do you remember that? Or only slightly? Oh man. “I should have warned him” thoughts and then you get a pissed off boy in Chapter 5.
COME ON NOW
Ok. How. How did you write anything there. When. The only time he’s aware would be right after Sammy hits him with the dustpan. So is he like fainting and writing it? So he wouldn’t be able to write anything else like SAMMY IS GOING TO KNOCK YOU OUT WITH A FUCKING DUST PAN because yeah he’s passing out so it’s just... OUCH! Also to confirm this he is facing the way he’s facing when he’s on the floor. God that’s both shitposty and depressing. Nice.
Henry don’t be a dick
So you do sing 👀
I wonder how Henry figured out walking backwards to not trigger the Demon here and write this specific message. Also is Joey behind those closed doors because there’s the whistling.
Is he cooking
Chapter 3
Oh, hi.
Excuse me what
Henry is a Jacksepticeye fan confirmed
Joey is a man of ideas... and only ideas.
Which is why he created a studio, an OC based on a person he has a one sided crush on (me) from who he stole and claimed their OC as his, also made that stolen OC a thing and then made both of the OCs fight in an infinite loop in the massive studio which is behind his kitchen.
This both has a literal meaning but is also like a deeper general thought
Henry do you want Joey to create a therapist OC you seem to have some problems
Why do these coffins hurt so much
Who are you asking Henry because Alice sure won’t fucking read that
And why won’t you just write it with regular ink why you gotta do it like this
Why does he keep this thing secret? Did he make it? Probably since he’s the one leaving the messages
Hmm
I fucking wheezed.
But also imagine Alice just giving her speech and Henry writing something on the wall with his finger
Unless he doesn’t write that in a literal sense but like... spiritually
Huh
THEY HAD DRINKS TOGETHER AND JOEY WAS PAYING FOR THEM AWW
He’s so fucking gay I swear to fucking gods.
Let’s hop on the existential crisis train, choo, choo.
How can you be kind to people who try to murder you
But this. This. Is such a good fucking work/life thought like damn. I love this game for those.
But are those just some thoughts Henry wanted to get out of his head or does it have something to do with the game because I’m kinda getting pacifist/neutral/genocide route vibes from this. But it it’s not the case it’s still pretty neat, we do meet them, we just don’t have the choice to treat them in some way most of the times.
It’s on level 14 and damn you game damn you yet again. I guess it can also be applied to that moment when The Projectionist is reaching out for Henry who is hidden in the Miracle Station? Like we don’t know what to expect of him because he had that small moment of realisation of... something. And he is also one of Henry’s “old friends”.
Is
Is Ink Demon killing The Projectionist a symbol of Joey’s jealousness like
Norman: *reaching out in curiosity, maybe to help*
Joey: >:( my fren
Chapter 4
Thanks. Roll credits.
So Chapter 4 is intentionally pointless in the terms of Henry trying to save Boris.
THAT’S FUCKING SAD STOP IT
NOT. MY. DOG. YOU. BITCH.
So Henry is catching up. Joey does regret all that shit he did. I wonder how exactly does it tie here, with Bertie. Maybe that theory I had about Bendy Land being Hell for Bendy? :0c I don’t really think so but that’s a thought.
I’m losing my shit.
Okay that seems like another woke thought.
Henry can’t change not being able to save Boris.
Joey can’t change all of his mistakes. But Joey is the one making it happen over and over again so it might be slightly pointed at him?
Like, pal. Stop dwelling on your mistakes. Move on. Let me the fuck out.
This game is really heavy with this problem:
Move towards your goal, hope, believe, dream, don’t give up.
Well actually do if it’s like super hard.
?????
This is such a deep uuhhh analysis of this like one of most basics functions of how we people fucking work and live, what keeps us going. Holy shit I am IN LOVE with that.
But oof yeah Henry was and IS the one good at pushing Joey to do the right thing. Man...
Instead of trying to cheer you up lemme just write this message you can’t read real quick.
THAT WHOLE FUCKING THING WAS POINTLESS AND I’M LOWKEY MAD
;_; holy lord sweet baby jesus
Can Henry like
be fine
fun concept
Meatly please
I suggest giving this a read if you as I weren’t familiar with that expression
https://quoteinvestigator.com/2014/09/23/heels/
Of course it’s a pun on “Time heals all wounds” expression. The word “heels” there refers to contemptible people. Earliest citation: 1934 and it got more popular around that time till something around the 50s-60s according to that website at least. Neat.
That is interesting. I guess we can associate the door with Joey as well since Henry warns himself not to go through them? And the Demon drags Projectionist’s corpse through them. Sorta against his will, heeeeeeh.
They look like they could be interactive but I dunno :0c
Oh, yeah. That two-faced motherfucker. That’s my bitch.
HE GAVE THEM FUCKING NAMES
Chapter 5
I feel like it was kinda exaggerated. Henry they like saved your life twice or so, how salty can you be
OKAY LET ME TELL YOU ONE FUCKING THING
AT FIRST WHILE PLAYING I THOUGHT JOEY WROTE THOSE BECAUSE
I mean why the fuck would they drop this star outta nowhere AND HE IS EXTRA LIKE THIS
But then again there’s this “Don’t go through the door”
Unless Joey did contact him through this as well? But I’m assuming it only because of the stars vfnjksd Idk I like when symbols actualy uhhh symbolise something
ALSO YOU KNOW WHAT’S INTERESTING
This is pointing at ANOTHER way. Without the boat. Possibly the Valued Employee (take the long walk) achievement?
I would check it right fucking now but my saves are fucked and I would have to replay everything again and I’m just too tired hhhh
Also Valued Employee does sound like someone who listens to their boss right?
And I’m getting the impression it’s not all Henry’s writing because it seems as if there is a different personality present? Idk
That sounds like sort of both of them. Joey is cheering for Henry, even if he’s planning to make him go through all of this again. Does he... have to make him go through it? That’s a bit odd. Joey nani the fuck.
I like the idea of Joey saying this ok lemme dream vskjvnskjvs
But it could be Henry (past/present/whatever) trying to cheer himself up like he did with the “Don’t be scared” message (if that was also him)
Oh, Henry...
Once people
That implies that real people got somehow affected, right?
I love the halo and the bone, also you can see the bone only if you give it to Boris in Chapter 3
Wait
It is
The whole fucking Ink Machine
Is inside
Holy
A cooking gay.
Ink Demon/Joey parallel implication. I don’t think he is Bendy in a straight up sense though. He is/was a soulless boss, just how soulless Bendy was/is. I wonder if there is a studio version of him or
HHHHHH complicated stuff
Is it like
When people create something good but they just don't know when to stop it eventually ends up really bad
And the Demon took The End so his cartoon couldn't be finished and it all had to keep going, Joey had to keep going
Hm?
So like there is no message on Henry’s second desk
But it does trigger the same dialogue AND IT HURTS
Actually a lot of people missed the arrows so just so you know
But I thought we don’t like doors
Also it’s the last hidden message so I do believe it has a special meaning
CONCLUSION get Henry outta here and give him loads of therapy
Is his fucking last name Stein because he made monsters via the Ink Machine by powering it goddamnit Joey don’t trick people into creating that shit
#bendy and the ink machine#batim spoilers#bendy and the ink machine spoilers#chapter 5 spoilers#halfpost#long post#long fucking post#oh my
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TRR 3.20 "A Warm Reception" what does that mean. does that mean FIRE i am on edge
I'm expecting it to go all nice and heartwarming, and then Anton shows up at the end. We shall see.
Officially longer than any other TRR book! We’re in uncharted territory now!
From what I saw from my roommate’s Liam playthrough, a lot of the carriage dialogue is mostly the same no matter who’s there, but, I do like this as a callback to awesome-storm Maxwell-Riley from the Homecoming ball, or Duke Whirlwind Dancemaster-Deluxe. With Maxwell, everyone keeps emphasizing how our lives together will be full of adventure and never be boring. ♥
You fools, take this chance to make out in the carriage! No! F O O L S
Oh. Hello Ana! She’s got a new dress for us, of course.
... Mehhhhh sorry not into that plasticy cutout look. Why do they keep doing that, it doesn't look like fabric. Sorry Ana, I’m gonna stick with what I've got.
Maxwell says it doesn’t matter what Riley’s wearing, he and everyone else won’t be able to keep his eyes off her. :’) ♥ bro
Ana, a true friend (despite how I keep tossing out all her hard work) leaves us alone in the boutique.
We are a storm... a hurricane… a mega punching robot... of love
sweet nervous boy. Riley literally said “I do” (well, ‘hell yeah’ in my case) and he’s still can’t help doubting a little.
now makeouts?? nope, Madeline. Girl you are about to get stabbed. ANA, WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HER, I’M SORRY, I’LL WEAR THE DAMN DRESS
(If we keep trying and then getting interrupted, only to finally succeed I will actually love that.)
Oooooo the reception hall is so pretty! Damn, they have really been outdoing themselves with the art lately. First the cathedral, now this. *__*
People coming up to tell us how we made them cry out our vows! Yessss tell us all about your tears! Our love is powerful, baby.
Took no screenshots of Hana’s parents so I can ignore that they came.
NEVILLE?! WHAT THE F. RASHAD, DID YOU BRING HIM. DUDE. YOUR FRIEND IS SHITTY AND NO ONE LIKES HIM, STOP BRINGING HIM PLACES.
You know, at the beginning of the tour we heard Neville wasn't even planning on coming to the wedding so I guess that's........ ssssomethingg..g..........…
like maybe he’ll get shot this time. aim better, assassins
Anyway, better people now! Hello friends!
Hana says we were like a fairytale! Even Drake is getting poetic. Liam sees how much we love each other. Maxwell has won the wife lottery. Excellent, so much love here.
LMAO....... SAVANNAH EYEING BERTRAND LIKE, HUH.... MARRIAGE..... HOW BOUT..... THAT...…. :|
Me and Maxwell, poster children for impulsivity: YEAH, JUST DO IT JUST JUMP INTO MARRIAGE IT'S GREAT
Bertrand : *SWEATS BUCKETS*
Hgnngggg I would stab a man for that wedding food right now. I picked Drake’s beef pork stew and oh my god...……. How do they always make it sound so good???
[pause to google feijoada recipe]
Time for toasts! Maxwell’s...….. awwww. ;___;
He starts it as a Once Upon A Time story of how Riley was whisked away to love a prince, but her happy ending was swapped when she fell for the court jester instead.
(Flashing back to the apple festival and Maxwell being excited to be jester. Good times.)
My heart is bursting. I love our story too T_T
Andddd he just blurts out about the hippo tattoo to everyone and covers it up with an awkward metaphor. That's a deeply Maxwell moment and I love it. ♥
Omg. Might regret it but I desperately want to hear Olivia's idea of a wedding toast.
EXCUSE YOU MADELINE, SCHEDULE SMEDULE. THE BRIDE DEMANDS TO HEAR EVERYONE RAPTURE ABOUT OUR LOVE
Olivia: So soon after I met Riley I was like "I hate that bitch"
Riley: a-awwww....thanks...……
I'M
DEAD
"LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT"
I WON OLIVIA’S RESPECT! :’D BEST DAY EVERRR
I mean we also got married but like. you get it.
“As we say in Lythikos, you’re still alive, so drink!” never change.
Liam: Aww...…. He tries but falls back on being super formal, referring to me as "Cordonia’s newest dutchess” and me “being a friend to Cordonia and [him]”
It's ok buddy, sneak out whenever you're ready. Hana and Drake can cover for you.
Hana: Hana wins the toast both for having the most insightful things to say, and also being LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE (besides Bertrand) TO TALK ABOUT MAXWELL. She also made me cry, so like, triple points. 😢 😭 I love her so muuuuch.
Drake: “I knew you were trouble when you walked innnn~”
Those were some real nice things you said about me but YOU ARE THE BEST MAN.
I know I'm great and we're all in love with me, but come on.
Alright here’s Bertrand, he’s gotta talk about Maxwell.
new big bro you will be NICE to your BROTHER or I STG
starting out rocky what with the “wow Maxwell made like so many mistakes” business. let him rest, it’s his day, good lord
*snaps fingers in front of his face* BABS, FOCUS
OH. OH OKAY. HE TURNED IT AROUND. HE SAID HE LOVES HIS BROTHER IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. THE DANCING COMMENT AND EVERYTHING AND HE ADMITTED MAXWELL DOESN'T NEED TO GROW UP. I'M. OVERWHELMED.
In which I will take any choice that turns Riley into a woo girl. And Kiara’s family continues to be my favorite. They’re coming over to Valtoria Revanasi all the time.
After all that, my toast was … whelming. I did get my vows already, so I guess it’s whatever.
First dance time! Aww this track is giving me HSS prom flashbacks. Michael I hope you're happy out there.
Apparently Maxwell picked the song, which can only mean he is a secret HSS fan.
“Partners” is such a lovely title for these two. I've always loved the term, you're partners in crime, partners for life, but they're also dance partners.
Number of times Maxwell has done the dip kiss: 4. This boy SMOOTH AS HECK.
Bertrand is scandalized by our nonsense but Drake understands they should take what they can get.
(where are my boy’s damn jello shots)
..... I think I just married Emperor Kuzco.
Maxwell challenges Drake to a dance off, and holy shit Drake can dance. Or at least spin kick. I'm still fairly certain he has no sense of rhythm.
....Drake did not dispute the best friend comment and I'm counting that as a win for Maxwell.
time. for. CAKE????!
Real life me is a little sad I don’t have cake. I do have fancy rice crispies from my friend’s coworker’s wedding. It’s no passionfruit cake tho :’(
(they successfully distracted me from wait where’s Olivia with cake. How dare you take advantage of my short attention span.)
Maxwell and Riley have matching swords. I might cry. That's the best.
..... Incredibly tempting to fuck up and cut the table. But OUR CAKE ok doing this right.
WHOA Bastien hello, where'd you come from.
Aww Madeline has pleased her goblin father.
Maxwell is so happy about the Cheetah cake SUCCESSSSSS [sneakily high fives Gladys]
[I hope Gladys gets cake. At least 3 slices for Gladys.]
Ooooh so Savannah and Drake's mom still came! She’s off taking care of Bertie. Bring forth the Walker matriarch, I wish to meet her. [ spoilers: we do not :( ]
Uh oh Savannah is pissed and I bet I know why~
Bertrand's only just noticed oh dear.
Savannahhhhhh pleeassssse. These two need to work on commutation so bad. I TOLD YOU TO BE DIRECT WITH THIS DUMBASS. YOU'RE STILL HINTING.
Bride awkwardly hovers outside her own reception trying to get her fool friends to communicate AGAIN.
Like I'm pretty patient and Bertrand is family but oh my god I can't be there for everything
Riley is tired too, bless her. We could totally have snuck off with Maxwell at this point but no, here we are.
Ok Riley's prize for taking the diamond option to help Bertrand one more time is that she gets to cause shenanigans. You know my girl loves a good shenanigan!
Oh my god are we getting the band back together YESSSSS
Stop one: Drake. He knows Riley by this point and senses shenanigans a mile away.
Drake: You don't need my permission, Savannah’s her own woman and all that.
Bertrand: But I'd like it.
Drake: ok then FUCK NO.
Bertrand: :’O
Bertrand making the shocked face is always funny. Same with his mad face. Really just Bertrand emoting = comedy gold.
Drake fully won Maxwell's respect with the breakdancing, and he's won Riley's by realizing he has the power to make Bertrand do whatever he wants right now.
Drake immediately regrets his abuse of power. Aaahaha ok, ease into it.
Somehow we talked Drake into singing. I'm just saying, this would have been so much easier with him last, when peer pressure was on the table.
Maxwell has been waiting for a moment like this moment his entire life, he'd pay to be part of this.
Liam would both do anything I asked and is always down for bromance time.
There is an option to panic and throw the bouquet at Neville. I have to try that at least once. But later.
Man Riley should have demanded the boys reunite their quartet anyway. BEST WEDDING PRESENT EVERRRRR (after all their other gifts because those were actually really sweet)
Savannah: holy crap you're smiling
Bertrand: Well you make me happy so fukkin get used to it
^Those are totally direct quotes.
While I’m making other people happy - TIME FOR GIFTS!
The book for Liam is a nice follow up to all his talk about how he wants to bring Cordonia peace. You’ve got faith that he can achieve his dreams! Aww.
Everyone else does surprised sprites but Drake is wary as ever. Smart dude.
Hana's gift............... Ok yeah let’s just...… move along. sigh.
At least Riley succeeded through the roof with Maxwell’s gift, he was about to pass out with all the layers this gift has. Aww, that was so worth it.
Honestly these were all kind of short. Meh. Maxwell’s was worth it, Liam’s was a nice second.
Finally can we sneak off--??
MADELINE.............. I WILL STAB YOU WITH MAXWELL’S FANCY ACTION FIGURE, DON'T THINK I WON'T
Time to see other friends! We go to Kiara first, which is good. I continue to be proud of her forever.
Penelope is me at every party. Where are the dogs. I can people watch just fine next to the dogs.
HOOOOLY SHIT
DANIEL
D A N I E L
DANIEL IS HERE, TAKING SHOTS WITH LEO
What do you know :D I have friends! Well. One friend. And no family. They’re really determined to leave that open, huh. You know, I’m okay with it.
Daniel, I admire your thrift, especially considering what it must have cost to come here on a waiter’s salary, but someone is definitely going to think you're here to serve food.
..... Whelp that came true immediately. Hey Regina.
Leo goes off with him. I guess they're bros now!
or .... well. I've seen the posts going around. Make this a trip to remember, Leo! ;)
Awwww nice moment with Regina. Look how far we’ve come! I've always liked her. She's a practical lady.
GLADYS
GLADYS IS HERE TO LET US GET ALONE TIME, FINALLY. BLESS YOU GLADYS, I COULD KISS YOU but that’s for Maxwell
Wait...... I'm getting suspicious. We're just. wandering away......… mmm :|
oh noOOOOOOOOOOooo--[all goes dark]
Aw mannnnnnnn Gladys D: Riley is never trusting anyone in this broke-ass country again. Remember how we kept talking about how in New York you can trust people to be upfront with their intentions????
[throws Daniel and Hana into a suitcase] COME ON MAXWELL, WE’RE MOVING BACK TO NEW YORK.
IS THAT SOMEONE ANTON, GLADYS
:’((((((((((((
I’m so sad, I liked her. I hope we can still win her back to our side. She seemed so surprised every time we treated her decently, I think there’s a chance. She probably got into this plot before she got to know us.
Things we know:
Liam is the only LI who doesn’t meet you in the hedge maze if you’re his LI. On the one hand, getting the king to sneak out is a whole nother level, but also he’s likely to have a big part in next week’s plot.
The poor guy is also still definitely in love with you, even if you softened the blow with the closure option. And he’s especially taking it hard if you’re with Drake. We’ll see how those things go together.
Olivia disappeared! Before cake. For their plot to work, they still need her around to make her queen. She’s loyal to Liam no matter what, but I’m still holding out hope that befriending her or not is going to play a part whether that loyalty extends completely to you.
She was also our strongest defense, what with all her knives and proclivity for stabbing. So Olivia is likely to be okay, but who knows if they will be.
Do they have our friends? We didn’t see them after gifts. concern.
what do you think? 2 more chapters? Wrap up evil plots and then have good things, hopefully? or just keep adding chapters and then it doesn’t have to end hahaaaa
#trr#the royal romance#maxwell beaumont#hana lee#bertrand beaumont#riley brooks#v plays choices#v plays trr#long post#I really hope the cut works#v recap
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Embers of the Sun - chapter 4
Story Summary: Bella Swan, the new student at Forks High, is ready to graduate. She was prepared for a boring year and just wanted to make a couple of friends. Why are there mutant Wolverines running around the woods of La Push? And why do all the handsome men she meets look at her with such unbridled horror? An imprinting AU where Bella moves to Forks two years later than in canon.
Pairings: Bella/Paul, eventual Angela/Leah
You can also read the story on ff.net!
(chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3)
Not beta read!
Chapter summary: First day of school, Angela turns out to be a gift from the gods and the Cullen siblings… not so much.
Chapter 4 - Meet the Cullens
The first discovery Bella made on Friday morning while walking from her front door to her truck was that the coat she’d brought from Arizona was not waterproof. It was pouring buckets, and she shivered as the raindrops pierced through the fabric of her coat and drenched the hoodie she was wearing underneath. Her second discovery was that dressing up for school had been a horrible decision; she’d worn her converse shoes that day and had landed in a puddle the moment she’d stepped out of her truck in the school parking lot.
With a growl, Bella slammed shut her door and jumped onto dry land. She fumbled with her keys as she tried to shake the water from her shoes and felt like crying when she dropped them into the puddle. People were starting to stare, so Bella pulled up her hood to hide her misery and fished her keys up. She was tempted to pull the ties of her hoodie to cover her face entirely as she approached the front office to get her schedule. The school was a collection of matching square buildings. They were all the made from the same maroon-colored bricks and surrounded by trees and shrubs. Bella’s mood did not lift; the heavy rain clouds made everything seem so dreary and cold. Her foul expression was enough to keep anyone from approaching her, but she made an effort to clear her face before greeting the receptionist.
The office has a small waiting room, equipped with folding chairs and a bulletin board, which displayed the words: Respect, Integrity, and Commitment. Underneath that was the school motto, ‘WE ARE ALL SPARTANS’, written in bright yellow letters.
“Isabella Swan, welcome,” said the squat woman sitting behind the desk before Bella had time to introduce herself. “Your father informed me you were coming.” Shelly Cope, her nameplate sat on the corner of her desk, had red hair and wore glasses that made her eyes seem small. Her impartial smile informed Bella that there wouldn’t be any small talk.
Good, Bella thought.
“Yes, I’m here for my schedule,” Bella said. The secretary pushed away from the table and rolled her chair over to the printer and pulled out some paper that she stapled together before showing it to Bella.
“Here you are. I’ve put a map in there as well.” She flipped it from underneath Bella’s schedule to show her the school’s layout. ”Your first class is 12th grade English, and it’s held in Building 3, room six. Mr. Berty, your teacher, will provide you with all the material you need for his class.” The dismissal was evident in her voice, and Bella thanked her before heading out into the rain again.
She shielded her papers from the worst of it and was grateful that Building 3 was the closest to the secretary office.
“Bella!”
Bella looked up at the sound of her name and saw it was Angela. They’d been about to enter the same building, and Bella nearly jogged into her when she paused to open the door. Angela held the door for her and their shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor, leaving wet footprints as they sought refuge from the rain.
“Hi, Angela,” Bella breathed.
“I didn’t think I would see you so soon,” Angela said pleasantly. She pulled down the hood of her raincoat and unzipped it to shake her hair out. Her glasses were starting to fog up from the rise in temperature. “What class do you have?”
“English,” Bella answered.
“With Mr. Berty? Me too.” Angela was familiar with the hallways, and Bella let her guide them to classroom six. There were a handful of students loitering outside the classroom, sluggish and heavy-lidded as they waited for the bell to ring. Angela waved to them, and the jerked their heads and mumbled an unenthusiastic greeting. Bella would fit in nicely here. She was already exhausted after having spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed from first-day-of-school jitters.
“What kind of teacher is he?” Bella asked her and sent the gathered students a stiff smile. Like Ms. Cope, they didn’t seem surprised to see her and shot her furtive sidelong glances.
The bell rang, signaling the start of class.
“I guess you’ll see for yourself,” Angela said apologetically as a tall man with graying hair opened the door from the inside. He must be Mr. Berty. He waved them inside with little fanfare, and Bella saw that he was wearing a tweed suit jacket with elbow patches and plaid pants. He looked like he could either be the type who believed that his own brilliance was wasted as a high school teacher or was simply eccentric. Bella hoped it was the latter.
They filed into a standard looking classroom. It was smaller than Bella was used to. Posters made by previous students covered the white walls, and the wooden tables were organized into three neat rows. They only allowed two students to sit side by side. Mr. Berty returned to his desk and Bella approached him while the students took their seats.
“Who might you be?” Mr. Berty asked, peering at her over his reading glasses.
“I’m the new student, Isabella Swan,” Bella said, and he nodded.
“Ah, yes. Here is the lesson plan for this term,” Mr. Berty said, and Bella was relieved that he wasn’t about to make her stand in front of the class and introduce herself like they were still in grade school. Instead, he did something much worse. “You might as well hand them out to the rest of the class. Take a seat once you’ve finished so we can get started.”
Bella took the stack of paper silently and made quick work of handing them out while Mr. Berty did the roll call. She avoided making eye contact with anyone, but her school bag hung off her elbow awkwardly, and it bumped against the tables every other step she took. She approached Angela last. She’d saved her a seat and Bella slid the sheet of paper over to her with a grateful smile.
“Now that we’re all here, there will be no mercy today even though it’s our first day. This is a double period class, and I see no point in wasting it by giving you a few more minutes of recess.” Mr. Berty clapped his hands together, making the half-asleep student jerk in their seats. He appeared to regain vigor from the sound of their groans. They’d all been hoping that he’d let them off easy today. “We’ll be focusing on Shakespeare’s work for the majority of the year but rest assured there will be plenty of opportunity for essay writing and presentations.” Mr. Berty smiled when his students slumped lower into their seats, their misery apparent.
The rest of his lecture continued in that fashion, and Bella wondered why teachers felt the need to tell their students everything that was written in the lesson plan. It must be a rite of passage to waste everyone’s time during the first day back. They were nearing the end of their first period when Mr. Bert finally stopped talking. He split them into pairs to 'work on their communication skills' as he put it.
Bella thanked the universe for already being acquainted with Angela because they shared a furtive grin and tackled the task at hand without needing any awkward introductions. They were supposed to compare their favorite work of fiction and discuss the differences and merits of each book. It turned out they both shared a love for Jane Austen so filling out the worksheet was a breeze. Angela chose Sense and Sensibility while Pride and Prejudice continued to be Bella’s favorite. They were in the midst of discussing the differences between Elinor Dashwood level-headedness and Elizabeth Bennet’s playful impertinence and drawing the similarities of their passionate nature when the bell rang.
“I’ve never met anyone who’s into Austen as much as I am,” Angela told Bella after they’d handed their worksheet to Mr. Berty.
“Me neither,” Bella said. It was true, Bella had spent hours reading and re-reading the novels in her youth but had been crushed to realize that none of her old classmates shared her interest in the classics. “Now, you have to be honest with me because this question will be a deciding factor for me to keep you as my friend or not.” Bella’s tone was mockingly grim, and Angela caught on quickly and assumed a serious face. “Fuck, marry, kill; Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Collin?”
Angela burst out laughing, blushing lightly at Bella’s crude language. “Oh, one is easy; kill Mr. Collins, but I always had a little bit of a crush on the Colonel after having seen the BBC adaptation from 1995,” she mused, making Bella gasp with delight.
“You’ve seen it?” Bella asked with uncontainable delight. She’d watched the series so many times that Renée refused to watch it with her anymore. She forgot her nervousness. “I don’t care who you fuck or marry; you are officially my best friend!”
Angela seemed just as eager as Bella. “I’ve got the special edition with restored colors and commentary,” she admitted in a shy voice, and Bella looped their arms together, letting Angela lead their way to their next class, which was American History.
“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Bella joked, and Angela nodded in agreement.
Their history lesson passed quickly; their teacher was as eager for the break as the students and promptly dismissed them after giving them the rundown of the course. Bella and Angela continued their conversation, and soon they’d made plans to meet up sometime and watch Angela’s entire Jane Austen film and tv-series adaptations together. Making friends wasn't so hard as Bella had initially thought. She was so relieved to have found a kindred spirit in Angela that she forgot to be worried about lunch.
They were sitting at one of the tables located in almost every corner of the hallways around the school and Bella was getting to know Angela a little better. Angela had lived in Forks her entire life; her father was the Lutheran minister, and her mother worked as an accountant for a small local business. She also had twin brothers, Joshua and Isaac, who could be very rambunctious and trying at times but Bella could hear the affection in her voice as she recounted all of their mischiefs. Angela was just getting into the swing of things, telling Bella about the time her brothers had put a lobster in the cradle as Baby Jesus before the start of the annual Christmas play when they were interrupted.
“Yo, Angie!” A blond haired boy called with unnecessary loudness. He strutted down the hallway towards them with two other guys. He perked up at the sight of Bella and
“Hi, I’m Mike,” he said and held out his hand for her to shake. He was smiling at her with a little too much interest and Bella heaved an internal sigh.
“Guys this is Bella.” Angela, bless her heart, took it upon herself to make the introductions. “Bella this is Austin-” she gestured to the acne-ridden sandy-haired boy who raised his hand in greeting. “- and this is Ben.” The short, black haired boy shot Bella an awkward smile as he sat down next to Angela and entwined their fingers together. Bella blinked. Angela hadn’t mentioned having a boyfriend.
“So, Bella-” Mike started to drawl.
“Where’s Jessica?” Angela asked Mike pointedly, cutting him off. He shrunk back and rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.
“She went with Lauren to save us a good table in the Mess,” Mike said. “She told us to go and find you. Your schedule is messed up; we hardly have any classes together. Ben here was starting to pine for you by the third period.”
Angela laughed awkwardly, tightening her grip on Ben and patted the back of his hand with her free hand. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t have met Bella otherwise. Besides, we have photography together next class,” she reassured Ben and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. He blushed.
“C’mon, I’m starving,” Austin groaned, and they got up. Angela disentangled herself from Ben and fell into step with Bella. He didn’t seem to mind and took to discussing the new chapter of some superhero novel with Austin. Bella couldn’t help but notice that Angela was an entire head taller than her boyfriend, who was about as tall as herself.
The mess hall was starting to fill with hungry students, and they took their place in the forming queue to get their meal. The other students had food stamps, and Angela loaned Bella one of hers when she realized that she hadn’t brought any money.
“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” Bella promised after thanking her. Angela shook her head and reassured her that it wasn’t necessary. Bella didn’t dare take the time to examine what the school had to offer with a line behind her and picked the same stuff as Angela. They headed for a table that was occupied by two pretty girls and two guys who were both wearing varsity jackets.
“Hey, Lauren, Jessica; this is Bella. She’s new here,” Angela introduced Bella when they took their seats.
“We know,” the girl with white blonde hair, Lauren, said. She seemed to dismiss Bella after giving her a once over with sharp green eyes and leaned into the dark-skinned boy sitting beside her. He tried to tangle his fingers in her hair, but she jerked her head away with a warning glare. He rolled his eyes and introduced himself as Tyler Crowley.
“Hi!” a brunette with voluminous curls waved cheerfully to Bella when she took a seat across from her. Mike had his arm around her shoulders. She must be Jessica. “Don’t mind, Lauren. She’s not good with new people.”
“Shut up, Jess,” Lauren scoffed, but there wasn’t any heat behind her words. Angela, who was sitting next to Bella, raised her eyebrows in a ‘what-can-you-do’ way and Bella stifled her smile.
“Hey, Conner,” Mike shared a fist bump with the other guy.
“Yo, dude. Did you catch the game last night?” Conner asked, licking his spoon free of yogurt.
“The Seahawks got slaughtered, man,” Tyler laughed, and Mike buried his face in his hands with a groan.
“Don’t remind me.” Mike shook his head, and they launched into a heated argument over which team player was to blame for their defeat. Jessica rolled her eyes and leaned forward to tell Angela about what kind of morning she’d had. Apparently, she’d found a dead squirrel on her front porch.
“- I literally died,” Jessica said dramatically, and Lauren grimaced with disgust.
“What did you do with it?”
“Dad got a stick and took it into the woods. It was super gross; it didn't have any eyes!” Jessica said with too much relish for a girl who was supposedly traumatized by the event.
Bella nibbled on the side of her cafeteria bland pizza slice and realized that she was sitting with the popular cheerleaders and jocks. It was an absurd thought because she’d spent years making fun of their type. She couldn’t help but think that Jessica and Lauren were both shallow, but then again; she hadn’t known them for more than twenty minutes.
It was a weird moment for her.
“So, we’re graduating soon. Have any, like, plans?” Lauren asked the entire table. She was obviously the leader here because the other conversations came to a stop to join hers. Lauren didn’t seem too interested in knowing their goals because she immediately launched into her own plans once she had their attention. “I’m going to Canada.”
“Lauren was scouted by a model agency in Victoria this summer,” Angela explained in a hushed voice when she noticed Bella’s confusion. Lauren seemed genuinely excited by the prospect, and she even let Tyler touch her hair when he pressed a kiss to her lips. Bella looked away at their display of affection.
“You’re going places, babe.”
“I’m going to attend uni in Seattle,” Ben said and the rest of the table seemed to have similar plans.
“I’m thinking about getting a degree in communications and maybe entertainment. I really want to have my own talk show one day,” Jessica piped up with a dreamy smile.
“Then you can interview me once I’m famous,” Lauren laughed, and Jessica joined her with a strained smile. Bella sensed a bit of jealousy coming from Jessica and wondered if it was because Laura was the more popular one.
“Totally!”
“What about you, Bella?” Mike asked her and Bella was suddenly the focal point of the entire table.
“Um, I’m going to university and maybe become a teacher.” She shrugged, flushing a little underneath their attention.
“Me too,” Angela said. “I want to be a kindergarten teacher.”
“What do you think the Cullens are going to do?” Jessica asked, and Bella was left behind at the leap in the conversation. She had no idea who the Cullens were, but it seemed like a favorite subject of Jessica’s because there was a gleam in her eyes while the others rolled their eyes. The atmosphere soured even further when Lauren spoke.
“Who cares? They don’t need jobs because they’re all rich and beautiful,” she sneered.
“Speak of the devil,” Mike muttered, and Bella looked up.
A lanky young man and what appeared to be a child at first glance had just entered the mess hall. A closer look told Bella that the girl wasn’t a child but around her age and was just unfortunately short and thin to the extremes. Despite this they looked like a pair of runway models who’d gotten lost on their way to the catwalk and somehow ended up in Forks, Washington instead. Bella couldn’t believe they were still in high school with features like that. Maybe it was the way they dressed, but they appeared years older than the rest of the student population. They walked with the kind of confidence rarely seen in a teenager, and there wasn’t a blemish in sight. They were both deathly pale, and the girl reminded Bella of a pixie; she appeared to float across the room with the graceful steps of a skilled dancer.
Bella felt a twinge of envy at her coordination. Some people just had it all.
Her companion was just as fetching. He was devastatingly handsome with windswept hair that was the most unusual shade of copper. Heads turned as they walked past but they didn’t seem to care, getting a tray of food and taking a seat in the corner. They slouched elegantly in their chairs and stared in separate directions in stony silence.
Were these the Cullens? Bella was almost afraid to ask at this point.
Sound returned to the room, and slowly the students returned to their conversations, shooting the Cullens glances as they put their heads together to whisper and giggle about something; most likely how hot they were.
Jessica sighed before she caught herself and shot Mike a guilty glance. He'd been checking out the pixie Cullen, and Jessica elbowed him in the gut. Mike winced.
“Are they related?” Bella wondered. They didn’t look remotely similar beyond their pale skin and good looks.
“Oh, no,” Jessica answered, eager to dish out their dirty secrets. “Dr. Cullen adopted them, that’s Alice and Edward Cullen, but they have three other siblings who graduated last year. Emmett Cullen, and the Hale twins; Rosalie and Jasper.” Jessica leaned in like she was about to share something scandalous, sending the Cullens an eager look. “They’re all like, together together.”
“Wait, like romantically?” Bella asked.
“It’s really weird,” Jessica nodded and was put out when she saw that Bella didn’t share her disgust.
“Well, you said that they’re not related,” Bella said slowly. Call her a romantic, but she believed that love could be found in the most unexpected places.
“It’s weird,” Jessica asserted before resuming her gossiping. “Alice and Jasper are together, and so are Emmett and Rosalie but Edward is like the only one who’s single,” she said and looked at Edward with a hungry expression. “He’s never shown anyone interest though because apparently, no one is good enough for him.” She blushed and drew back to fold her arms against her chest. Mike glared at Edward Cullen and pulled Jessica to him, which seemed to cheer her up. “Whatever, it’s not like I care.” Her sour expression gave away that she wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended. Bella didn’t know what to say to this.
She glanced at the Cullens again and met the golden eyes of Alice. Her large doe eyes were alight with some indiscernible emotion, and she whispered something to her brother, not taking her eyes off of Bella. Bella looked down at her plate quickly, embarrassed at having been caught but a quick glance told her that Edward was watching her as well. He didn’t seem to share his sister’s excitement and glared at Bella. Humiliated, she felt like a sideshow freak when they kept staring at her.
“Bella, what class do you have next?” Angela offered Bella an out from the awkward silence.
“I have Spanish,” she said after consulting her schedule. It had been an obvious choice because Bella had taken it in Phoenix, as it is the second most common language spoken in California and Arizona. “What about you?” Bella asked, and Angela reminded her that she had photography with Ben after lunch.
“I’m taking French,” Lauren piped up. She buffed her nails against her blouse without looking up. Jessica appeared to have gotten over her herself and her good mood was restored.
“So am I!” she said brightly. “Mike, you have trig right?”
“Don’t remind me,” he moaned and looked over at Connor and Tyler. “Do you guys remember anything from last year?”
“Nope.” They didn’t appear to be bothered by the fact and started to pile their trash onto their trays when the bell rang to signal the end of lunch.
Bella’s map came in handy when she was forced to split up with Angela, who’d been her guide up to this moment. She arrived at the correct classroom in the nick of time. Mrs. Geoff, the Spanish teacher, greeted her enthusiastically and made her stand in front of the class and introduce herself in Spanish. Bella wanted to sink into the floor, but her grasp on Spanish was good enough, and she was able to rattle off some inane facts about herself.
“¡Te felicito! Tu trabajo está muy bien hecho,” the teacher exclaimed and received blank-eyed stares from her students.
“Gracias, señora,” Bella said and quickly went to the only seat available. She nearly swallowed her tongue when she saw Alice Cullen sitting in the chair next to hers. Bella sat down and gave Alice an awkward smile, which she returned trifold, nearly blinding Bella with the beauty of it. Her teeth were straight and a pearly white. Bella had the urge to go and brush her teeth, feeling self-conscious.
“So your name is Bella?” Alice asked, her voice sounding like wind chimes. Bella got lost in her eyes for a moment. Bella had never seen such an unusual eye color; they were a stunning liquid gold. She shook herself out of her daze when she realized Alice was waiting for an answer.
“Sí,” Bella replied jokingly.
“How wonderful.” Alice’s smile widened impossibly. She seemed oddly thrilled about learning Bella’s name because she laughed with delight at the simple introduction. Even her laugh was beautiful.
Mrs. Geoff spoke in Spanish throughout the class, but Bella had a hard time focusing. Alice was the most beautiful creature she’d ever met, with her pale skin and red. She reminded Bella of a miniature Snow White.
Alice didn’t pay attention to Mrs. Geoff either because she kept asking Bella questions in a low whisper. Bella was a little flattered by it. The rest of the students seemed stunned to see Alice voluntarily talking to another human being outside her own family. Mrs. Geoff didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.
“What color were you thinking about?” Alice’s question brought Bella back. They’d somehow gotten onto the topic of interior design. Bella had learned that Alice was a fashion enthusiast with a thing for decorations, and had let slip that she was thinking about painting the wall in her room to add a little warmth to it.
“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Bella admitted.
“Well, I recommend you go to Benjamin Moore in Port Angeles and look at their swatches. Here, let me give you my number in case you need help picking out the right color,” Alice said as the bell rang. She ripped some paper from her notebook and scribbled her mobile number on it and gave it to Bella.
“I don’t have a phone,” Bella said dumbly.
“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Alice dismissed. “There are plenty of places that sell them.”
“Thanks.” Bella blinked, feeling like she’d been caught in a whirlwind.
“No, problem,” Alice smiled and waved as she headed in the other direction. “I’ll see you around, Bella!”
“See ya,” Bella said weakly. She got caught in the flow of students and walked with them in a slight daze.
Alice was a little overwhelming. It was apparent that she was the type who knew what she wanted and had no issues with getting it. It was an admirable trait, but Bella was a little shell-shocked after taking the brunt of her attention. Yes, Alice was persistent for someone her size but otherwise harmless. Mostly.
Bella soon learned that the same could not be said about her brother.
Biology class started out fine. Mr. Banner, the teacher, handed Bella her book and bade her take a seat without making her introduce herself using the theme of the subject as Mrs. Geoff had done. It would have made an interesting introduction: “Hi, my name is Isabella Swan, but call me Bella. I started out as a zygote inside my mother’s womb and developed into a human through the wonderful process of mitosis and meiosis. I’m also a Virgo.”
The only seat available was next to one Edward Cullen.
Everything rolled downhill after that.
Bella couldn’t help but stare at him when she walked between the aisles. Edward’s chiseled features belonged in renaissance paintings or on statues of Greek deities, crafted by master sculptors, not in this backwoods high school. Bella had never seen anyone as handsome as him. It was disquieting, and it provoked something indescribable inside her.
He looked like an angel.
When she drew near, his nostrils suddenly flared, and his head jerked up. Edward glared at her with monstrous black eyes, his pupil indiscernible from their darkness, and his face contorted like he’d smelled something foul. He went so far as to lean away from Bella as far as his seat allowed him when she sat down next to him.
Her heart gave a painful squeeze of mortification, and she quickly looked down at the tabletop, her hair falling forward to hide her face. She tried to subtly sniff her shirt to see if she stunk and was a little insulted when she smelled nothing out of the ordinary. Sure, Bella didn’t smell like her usual strawberry shampoo, having forgotten to pick it up at the store, but she wasn’t smelly, and her natural musk was too faint for Edward to smell from this distance. Maybe he was sick; he certainly looked like he was in agony.
She drew a breath and was about to ask him if he needed the nurse when a tantalizing sweet scent wafted towards her, similar to the one his sister bore. Her mind felt fuzzy, and Bella was drawn towards it like a bee to honey, but the look in Edward’s soulless eyes spelled death. It was a spine-chilling experience.
Bella looked away quickly. She took it back; Edward wasn’t a beautiful angel, not at that moment. He was an archangel, cast out of heaven and turned demonic. He didn’t look human.
Maybe he just has bad gas, she thought to herself, feeling the beginnings of hysteria creeping on her. Twenty minutes dragged past, and Bella kept one eye on the clock and the beast beside her. She hadn’t heard a word of what Mr. Banner was saying, distracted by the murderous intent emanating from Edward. He hadn’t moved, frozen in his odd hunched position. Bella doubted that he was even breathing; his chest wasn’t moving, and his hand was covering his mouth and nose. He certainly wasn’t blinking.
Fear. That was the feeling Edward provoked inside her; a deep primitive fear that urged Bella to either leap out of the window to get away from him or to pick up her pencil and stab it into those unnatural black eyes of his. Bella was not a violent person by nature so the sudden desire to attack a classmate, no matter how creepy, took her by surprise.
What was happening to her? Bella didn’t know, but she knew it had something to do with Edward. She refused to take this anymore; Edward Cullen had no right to affect her like this. Bella stood up and walked to Mr. Banner’s desk for her escape. He looked up at her, and she didn’t have to fake her nervous smile.
“Excuse me, sir. Can I go to the bathroom?” she asked in a low voice.
“Certainly,” Mr. Banner said and handed her a hall pass.
“Thank you,” Bella said and hurried out of the room. One last look at Edward almost sent her running. He was no longer straining back but leaning forwards like a predator readying itself to leap onto its prey. He looked like he wanted to eat her.
Bella settled for a brisk pace down the corridor instead of hightailing out of the school like she wanted to. She was halfway down the hallway when Alice Cullen, of all people, rounded the corner. She was speaking anxiously into her phone, and Bella caught a bit of her end of the conversation when they walked past each other. “-can’t see him, Carlisle. Hi, Bella!” Alice wiggled her fingers at her but didn’t slow down, which suited Bella just fine. She’d had enough of the Cullens today. “No. I’m getting him now.”
Him? Did she mean Edward? If so, Bella hoped she was taking him to the hospital for a rabies shot. He was clearly feral.
She made it to the bathroom without any hindrance and locked herself in one of the stalls. It offered her a bare minimum of protection, but at least no one could see her. If you can’t see it, it’s not there - it being a black-eyed monster in this case. The irrational thought was exactly what Bella needed to calm down. She stared blankly at the scribbles on the stall door as she wrangled her thundering heart under control. Someone had written in looping cursive about, oddly enough, the militia movements of the Confederate Army in the Civil War. It was signed J. W. at the bottom, and Bella sent a silent thank-you to them for the distraction.
Five minutes passed faster than she liked and Bella was forced to return to the Biology classroom. She felt like she was heading towards the gallows.
Edward was nowhere in sight, and Bella was faint with relief. She returned her hall pass with shaking hands and returned to her seat. Feeling brave, she vindictively took the chair Edward had occupied. It was silly, but it gave Bella a small measure of comfort; how evil could he be if his presence hadn't left behind a tainted mark.
Bella’s thought hadn’t even finished when she noticed hairline fractures in the wood extending from the place where Edward had gripped the desk. Had he broken the counter? It seemed a bit excessive, but Edward must really not like her. She ran her fingers on the underside of the wood and found finger size groves embedded there.
Her breath came fast and shallow, and Bella was on the verge of hyperventilating when she caught a flash of copper in her peripheral vision. Her mind had evidently associated the color with Edward, and rightly so, because her head snapped to the side, afraid that he was coming for her again. Alice was frog marching Edward across the car park. It would have been a comical sight, Edward’s lanky height dwarfed Alice’s tiny form, if Bella wasn’t freaking out. Alice led him towards the woods for some reason. Didn’t they have a car?
Then something astonishing happened; Alice pushed her brother forward with unnatural strength and his shape blurred as he took off at a sprint. With the same supernatural speed, Alice followed suit, and they were both gone before Bella had time to blink.
The only thing keeping Bella grounded was the grip she still had on the table, her fingers fitting into the indentations Edward had left behind.
It was proof that she hadn’t lost her mind.
A/N: I don’t speak Spanish and neither does anyone else in my family so don’t hesitate to correct me if what Mrs. Goff said was incorrect!
Next chapter: Momma Renée gives life advice, and dinner at Billy’s turns into an eye-opening experience, featuring Bella; the amazing grocery mountaineer.
#embers of the sun#chapter 4#bella swan#alice cullen#edward cullen#angela weber#mike newton#jessica stanley#lauren mallory#bella/paul#tyler crowley#ben chaney#austin marks#forks washington#twilight#the twilight saga#alternate universe#fanfiction#my writing#bellapaul
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Strange Magic
Chapter 2:My Generation:
"Well, people try to put us down.
Talkin' bout my generation.
Just because we get around.
Talkin' bout my generation.
The things they do look awful cold.
Talkin' bout my generation.
I hope I die before I get old.
Talkin' bout my generation.
My generation.
Why don't you all just fade away?"
Marley's comedown wasn't helped by the shrieks of first and second years tearing around platform 9¾. Urgh, she couldn't wait to get into a compartment pull the shade down and chill with her friends.
"Oi, McKinnon!" She looked over, James and Sirius were leaning against their trunks attempting to ooze cool and winning. She pushed her trolley over to join them, trying to tuck an errant curl behind her ear only for it to ping back to where it was before.
"Fucking hell, you two. How do you manage to look like that? When I feel like a badger is trying to claw its way out of my skull every time one of those little bastards squeals." She moaned. As far as Sirius was concerned Marley looked her usual gorgeous self, if a little paler than usual.
"Don't put yourself down, Marley. Not everyone can pull off post-festival chic like we can." Grinned Black. James ruffled his hair into hither to unseen levels of mess.
"We're just gifted that way." Added Potter with a grin. Marley rolled her eyes.
"Let's find ourselves a compartment so I can block out reality until we get to Hogwarts." She rubbed her head and moved towards the train. As they neared the carriages there was a yell from James as Remus jumped on his back pulling him to the floor in a huge hug.
"Get off me, you massive twat." He groaned from where they were wrestling on the floor. Lupin was laughing as he had caught potter unaware ,and had the upper hand. Lupin pulled Potter from the floor slinging an arm round his shoulder towing his trolley behind him.
"That did nothing for my head..." Moaned Marley.
They got to the carriages, there were a few empty compartments to choose from. Sirius opened the door to one. "This is furthest away from the prefects" he winked at the group. Remus sighed dramatically, he was already in his Hogwarts robes, Prefect badge in place.
They were stowing their trunks when a screaming curly, brown haired blur entered the compartment and crushed Marley in an embrace. "Good to see you too, Hestia." Remus couldn't help a grin spread across his face at her presence.
"Remus!" She shouted punching him on the arm then pulling him into cuddle. Remus had begun to fall for Hestia last year when they had been made prefects together. She had a similar disregard for rules as Padfoot and a moral integrity that matched Prongs. Once whilst on their rounds they had come across fifth year Slyhtherin ,Rufus Avery, sticking his hand down the top of a very upset looking third year Hufflepuff, Cynthia Fawcet in a lonely corridor near the astronomy tower. Hestia had immediately used ducklifors turning the Slytherin perpetrator into a mallard, before Moony had even had a chance to draw his wand. "Fuck a duck. That was magnificent." He commented. Since then she always appeared to light the room whenever she walked in.
Remus returned the embrace with a goofy grin. "Get off me, you big lug" Hestia swatted him after he held on to her for too long.
Alice and Lily turned up together. James' attention was instantly captivated by the tall, beautiful redhead. "Evans" He greeted her with a small salute. James heart skipped a beat when she bestowed him with a warm smile. You couldn't really fault a bloke who would happily let you leave a pool of drool on their chest the size of your head after you passed out on them.
"You'll never guess who Milton snogged before getting on the train?" Lily excitedly shouted.
"Ooo, who?" Asked Sirius, as much a lover of gossip as that Skeeter bird at times.
"Longbottom!" She shrieked.
"Get over it!" Alice said barging past. "I've been wanting to do that for ages. He gave me this gorgeous smile and I just went for it." She sat down next to James with a huff. The guards whistle went as Peter emerged red in the face at the compartment door. He dumped his trunk with the others and sat next to Remus and Hestia as the Hogwarts Express let the station.
"Cutting it fine, Pete." Enquired James
"You know I like to make a grand entrance." Wormtail bowed to the group from his seat. Marlene snorted. She had chosen to sit on the floor near the window to enjoy the breeze coming through it. Her head resting against Sirius' hip as he'd taken up two of the eight seats in the compartment. Her headache was pounding as she felt Sirius' fingers playing with her curls. It felt good, she didn't bother telling him to stop, it took her mind away from the pain.
She looked around James and Alice were already bitching about the level of homework they would be expected to complete now they were doing NEWT level magic. Remus and Wormtail were talking about the jokes they were planning to play and how they could get Peeves on side, she noted that Lupin had Hestia's feet on his lap. Hes, and Lily were sneaking her furtive glances and giggling in her direction. She groaned inwardly.
"You okay, Marley?" Sirius enquired quietly, still fiddling with her hair. Marley looked up to see his grey eyes gazing kindly down at her.
"Yeah.." She answered vaguely, closing her eyes enjoying the feel of sun on her face. She felt Sirius nudge her shoulder.
"Here, have a bang on that. It's the secret to mine and James' post-festival chic." He murmured offering her vial of blue opalescent, viscous liquid. "It's Invigorating Draught." She took a swig, it tasted like a summer breeze. It made her feel instantly more energised and vibrant.
"Wow." She breathed, "What a rush!" She looked at Sirius with her trademark goofy grin. Turning to fold her arms against the seat bringing her eyes level with his hips. It was then she noticed the bulge in his crotch. She giggled. "Nice tent, Black, budge up." Sirius went red and tried to cover his embarrassment with a nonchalant shrug. As he scooted over to the window seat leaving a space between himself Alice. Being a pubescent boy was down-right awkward at times.
"What can I say, McKinnon, your hair has magical properties." The carriage filled with hoots and groans from the rowdy teens.
The compartment door opened with a "do you want anything, dearies?" as the Trolley Witch poked her head in, she pushed the Honeydukes Express into view. The group jostled to buy their hoards of sweets and pasties. Hestia and Remus left for the prefects compartment, their pockets filled with tuck.
"You want anything, Marley?" Asked James. She shook her head in response remaining where she was. Lily leaned in so only he could hear. He gulped at her nearness. The others were distracted by the food.
"Marley doesn't eat." She whispered. "Oh" mouthed James frowning. Sirius who seemed to be choosing between Bertie Botts and Drooble's looked at them with concern. Then bought some of everything. He chucked his haul between himself and Marley.
"Here help yourself."
"No thanks." She said with a frown.
"I heard you blew a bubble that encased Mrs Norris for over a day before it popped. That's some skills, McKinnon, bet I can blow one bigger."
Marley narrowed her eyes at the challenge. "I've heard about your blowing skills, Black, all the boys talk about them"
"Of course, they would, I've got to get the practice in somewhere." He nudged her with a wink.
She took a piece of gum and popped it in her mouth. She then preceded to blow bluebell coloured bubbles the size of a beachball. Black valiantly tried to beat her but could only make ones the size of his head.
"I judge you the winner, your blowing skills are better than mine, McKinnon. I look forward to experiencing them again in the future." This earned him a thump on the arm. The compartment was filled with large blue bubbles. Alice opened the window to let them out so that they could breathe once more.
The Hogwarts Express was speeding through the Scottish countryside. "Right, you lot, out!" Demanded Evans. "This is not a strip club, there is nothing to see here." The girls got into their Hogwarts robes as did the boys (in the corridor). The train continued on to it's destination. The village of Hogsmeade.
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Me reflected in your eyes
Since it was so dark on the moon, Tim has no clue what Jonny looks like. When Jonny finds out one of his lovers survived, he is desperate to make sure Tim never finds the link, so that the other can’t become mad at him or blame him. But it is pretty hard to hide such things and Tim never blamed Jonny for a moment.
On AO3.
Ships: Tim x Jonny (x Bertie, but he’s already dead at the start of the fic)
Warnings: grief, low self esteem, mentions of war.
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was dark on the moon, this was not uncommon knowledge, but people sometimes didn’t realize to which extent that fact was true. The soldiers would get vitamin D supplements just to survive and most had no clue what their comrades looked like.
This was also true for Jonny and The Toy Soldier, this was great news for The Toy Soldier, since now less people realized how deeply unsettling the wooden soldier could be, but it was less then ideal for Jonny.
You see, Jonny had fallen in love on the moon.
Yes, the great Jonny d’Ville, known for his emotional constipation had found not one, but two people who loved him despite the ways he found himself to be lacking. Tim and Bertie had held him and told him how much they loved him, even if they’d never even seen his face.
Jonny both loved and hated this. On one hand, he was convinced the two would stop loving him the moment they saw him, but on the other hand, the not seeing made this little bit of joy last longer and prolonged the time before he would be rejected.
He knew he wasn’t that much of a catch, many people had told him his manic eyes could be unsettling and he was on the short side with a baby-face. Jonny never liked the way he looked and his personality also wasn’t winner material, but the two had loved him regardless of that.
It probably wouldn’t have lasted, though. Not that it matter now, the moon was gone and so were Tim and Bertie.
Sighing again he looked out of the window of the observation deck once more. The stars were peaceful and Jonny liked getting lost in them.
A small cough pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Nastya. She looked uncertain, which made worry bubble up in Jonnys chest as he asked: “What’s wrong?”
“Uhm, well, you see, Jonny. Me and Brain were clearing out the docs lab and, uhm, there is a person there.” Nastya said.
“What?” Jonny exclaimed.
“I wouldn't have bothered you with it if he wasn’t halfway to mechanized and it seems unlikely we can reverse the process, but that’s not all…” Nastya trailed off, uncertain.
“What are you not telling me?” Jonny said in a vaguely threatening tone.
Nastya reached into her coat and pulled out a necklace as she said: “He had these hanging around his neck.”
Jonny stepped closer taking the necklace to inspect the dangling pieces of metal only to stumble backwards in shock, eyes wide, fear in his heart. It was not just a necklace, it were dog tags. Dog tags that read: Tim, G.
“It- it can’t be.” he said.
“I’m sorry, Jonny. I thought you would like to know.” Nastya told him, “I can complete the process or he can stay half-mechanized, but I don’t know what that will do to him long term. So far only me and Brian know, who he is and that he’s even here, if you’d like us to not tell the others or something, we will.”
“No one can know about this. Take me to him.” Jonny demanded.
In the lab Brian was organizing stacks of papers and clearing away most of the experiments that had been on display, in the center of the room there was a familiar examination table, with on it a prone form of a young man that Jonny recognized to be Tim from their short introduction at the Moon Kaisers throne.
“Are you okay, Jonny?” Brain asked worriedly, when he came strolling in.
“Do I look like I’m alright?” Jonny snapped at him as he walked over to the table, inspecting Tim closely. He was as pretty as Bertie always said he was, even with his face half open and full of metal. Jonnys heart clenched, Tim didn’t deserve this faith.
He carded a hand through Tims long hair and a small strained smile appeared on his face at the familiar sensation. He could feel Brian and Nastya looking at him, but he couldn't find the strength inside him to snap at them for it.
“How did she find him?” he asked softly instead.
“According to his file, she thought it was you in the little space shuttle, but no other details are known.” Brian answered.
A pang went through Jonnys heart, this was his fault. Carmilla had gotten her hands on Tim in an attempt to find him. It was his fault he would never be able to find Bertie in the afterlife, if that even existed, or find peace if it didn’t.
He swallowed heavily and asked: “Do you think you can successfully fix him up completely?”
“I mean, it would take a while and it might not be as seamless as other mechanizations, but I think I can figure it out with her notes.” Nastya told him.
Jonny thought about it for a moment. He looked at Tims ripped open face, then at the slow rise and fall of his chest.
“Do it, don’t tell the others who he is and don’t mention me to him.” it might be selfish, Jonny knew it was selfish, but seeing Tim, alive, he couldn't find it within himself to leave him like that. Tim might be angry, but that would only be once he made the connection, if Jonny just kept his mouth shut, he would be able to witness this, one of the loves of his life, being there, even if it was just out of reach.
With that Jonny turned around and left, only managing to keep up a strong facade until he was in the comforts of his room where he broke down crying, clutching the dog tags.
He stayed in his room for nearly an entire month. He was sure the others had caught on to the fact that something was wrong with him, but he didn’t care. Jonny had no time for Ashes asking if they needed to burn someone alive for him, or The Toy Soldier asking if he needed some tea or even Ivy asking if she could help him in some way.
What he needed was for Tim to be okay and not mad at him. He needed the other to know everything and tell him it wasn’t his fault. For Tim to hold him, like he had done so many times so that Jonny could just take a breath and not feel like the weight of his decision was crushing him and making him feel like he was going to break in two.
The only person he reacted to was Nastya, who knocked on his door and called out: “If everything goes to plan, he should wake up somewhere this week, I though you’d like to know.”
“Thank you. Have the other said anything?” Jonny asked.
“So far they think it’s the reality of the doc being gone that’s crashing down on you.” Nastya told him, “Me and Brian have not discouraged this.”
Jonny nodded even if Nastya couldn't see it. The silence between them hung heavily, until Nastya said: “I have to go now, please take care of yourself, Jonny. Aurora tells me you died too many times in there, I’m getting worried.”
“Piss off.” Jonny managed to push out of his throat, sinking back onto his mattress willing the world away as Nastyas footsteps disappeared down the hall.
About a month later Ashes was knocking at his door as they yelled: “Jonny, I’m fed up with your bullshit, I know everything sucks right now, but I don’t care that you don’t want to meet another one of her creations or something. This new guy needs everyones support, even your grumpy ass, so you better get out there and at least say hi.”
Jonny was quiet, so Ashes said: “He already knows there is another member he hasn’t met yet and he thinks you already hate him for no reason at all. Please, just push your own issues aside for a second.”
That made Jonny look up, the idea that Tim thought he hated him was enough for him to move. He stank like hell and looked a mess, however, so he knocked three times on the door.
“Alright, you get fifteen minutes, but I’m waiting here for you and I will blow up your door if you aren’t here by then.” Ashes said.
Quickly jumping into the shower and getting himself dressed, Jonny was done in ten. He probably still looked like he’d been beaten by the sandman in a bad way, but that couldn't be helped.
“There you are, I was kind of expecting the octokittens to have eaten you by this point.” Ashes joked, but Jonny wasn’t really in a mood for that, if even one person had slipped up and told Tim his name, he would be fucked.
Ashes seemed to catch on and said: “Brian and Nastya really pressed us to not mention your name to the new guy, I don’t know what happened, but he’s not so bad. I’ll respect it, only because I know you wouldn't fuck with another mech for no reason, but don’t be too hard on him, okay.”
Jonny nodded, lump in his throat. He was mentally prepping himself for what to even do when he met Tim. He couldn't talk or Tim would know, but staying silent would be weird.
Lost in his thoughts as he was, he missed getting to the room Tim was in until he heard Ashes say: “This is the latest guy.”
Then a familiar voice said: “Uhm, hello, I’m Gunpowder Tim, but most just call me Tim. No one mentioned your name yet.”
Looking up Jonny came face to face with Tim, his eyes were horrible, and faintly Jonny remember how Bertie used to wax poetry about them and he was sad he never got to see them, but still the beauty of Tim was overpowering.
Alive and standing he seemed more human. He was taller than Jonny had realized and in perfect proportion and when he smiled a shy smile, he could see that all his perfect teeth had survived his mechanization.
In short, Tim was gorgeous and Jonny had never felt less worthy.
If he had been planning on making any noise, it would have died in his throat. Instead he just stood there as silently as he had intended to be.
When the silent dragged on, Tim got more uncomfortable as Ashes raised a brow at him. They asked: “Are you gonna say anything?”
Jonny swallowed and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He had no clue what to do, if he were to talk he would have to explain and he- he- he just couldn't right now. His mouth snapped closed and he stumbled backwards.
“Are you okay?” Tim asked and all the times he’d asked that after a battle flitted through Jonnys mind as he collapsed to the floor.
He could hear Tim ask Ashes what had happened, while Ashes sighed: “He’s not always the best mentally, I- I have no clue what set him off, but it’s not your fault. Could you be a dear and go see if you can fetch Nastya? Tell her the idiot is being himself again.”
“Yeah, of course.” and Tim ran off.
Ashes then turned to Jonny and crouched down as they asked: “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”
“I- I can’t- voice- it won’t.” Jonny stammered, unable to put in to words what was going on with him, as he broke down crying.
Right at that moment Tim returned with Nastya, if Jonnys vision hadn’t been clouded by tears he would have seen the guilty and concerned expression on Tims face. Nastya took in the scene and sighed: “Goddammit.”
“Come here, cowboy.” she told Jonny as she hoisted him up, “No use in giving Tim a guilt complex or something, you don’t want that right?”
Jonny shook his head and Nastya told Tim: “He’s in a bit of a strange head space right now, but I promise you that he is glad to meet you. Sometimes, words, you know? He will write you an apology when he’s up to it.”
She led Jonny away from Tim, hoping Ashes would be of some help on Tims end. The poor lad hadn’t had it easy since he woke up, with the sudden loss of everything he knew and the patch job of a mechanism shoved into his face. The fact that he was coping as well as he was, was frankly a freaking miracle.
Back in Jonnys room she said: “Okay, I know you probably weren’t there by choice, but he is on the edge of breaking. I feel like denial is what’s keeping him going right now, so you’re going to write a nice letter for him and stay out of his way for a while, alright?”
Mutely Jonny nodded, then he whispered: “Thank you, Nastya. Can you- can you keep an eye on him?”
“What do you think me and Aurora have been doing? I got your back, don’t worry about it, just try to figure out what the fuck you’re gonna do, because you’re not going to be able to hide this for forever. And it is going to be forever.” Nastya told him, before she walked out of the room.
That night Jonny spend hours bent over his little desk, fucking up his back in an attempt to get his messy ‘I-went-to-school-for-only-three-years-or-something-give-me-a-break’ handwriting into a neat and coherent apology/explanation:
Deer Tim,
My apologys for my urlyr behaver. I dont know what the others have told you about the crew before you came aboord, but it changed recently and I have been attemting to just work threw that. This has nothing to do with you, sorry.
I hope your ajusting well to this new life. And I hope we can become friends or at leest akwaintences at some point, because you seem like a okay guy.
I will attemt to carry a notebook with me, so that we can talk, because my voice is kind of fucked right now.
Hope this helps.
That would have to do, Jonny thought. It was both a good excuse not to use his voice and make Tim suspicious and it would hopefully make Tim feel better about everything, which had been the final goal.
The letter was nothing like Jonny wished he could say to Tim, nothing like the thousand of apologies that had played through his mind and the million ways he’d come up with to attempt to make things right again and be able to keep Tim close once more.
Jonny handed the letter to Nastya, who promised to hand it on, before he went on his day. He might be dealing with a lot right now, but so were the others and as First Mate, he should be there for them.
It actually went well, the others were getting by as good as possible and it felt good to have the weight that was Carmilla of their shoulders. Jonny was careful with speaking, always checking to see if Tim was near before opening his mouth, but it worked.
After that weeks passed by. Jonny saw Tim a total of three times and had manages each interaction without speaking or making Tim upset in any way.
Tim himself, however, was not doing so hot after a while. The reality of everything had finally caught up to him and he was using his newfound armory to let out his frustrations and anguish on a bunch of crates.
Jonny wanted nothing more than to go over and hug Tim, tell him that he felt his pain and that he missed Bertie too, but he refrained.
It was better to let Tim work through the grief without adding his own to it. It was better for Tim to not know that one of the people he had loved was responsible for what had happened to him. It was better to let him think Jonny was gone too and not have to come to terms with the betrayal.
Through Carmilla, Jonny knew firsthand how it felt to be betrayed by someone you trusted in this way and he wasn’t about to let Tim go through the same.
For about four months explosions and rage echoed through the halls, before it seemed Tim had worked through the anger stage. In that time Jonny had avoided him as much as possible, knowing he would be unable to stop himself if he were to see him.
Tims process was hard on the other members of the crew as well, but all had similar touches with grief and were used to staying quiet and out of the way of someones wrath.
When the raging stopped all had been walking on eggshells, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it became clear after a while that Tim was now just lying in his room, not interacting with the world around him.
Aurora reported his first death of starvation a while later and it was decided that Brian should go up and check on him.
The Pilot came back a long while later to report that Tim had not noticed he died and thought he had fallen asleep and that Tim had freaked out a lot, before collapsing and saying he didn’t care anyway and had wrapped himself up in a bunch of blankets again.
It was about a year after Tim had been pulled aboard the Aurora that he had processed most of what had happened to him the best a mech ever would.
He made fast friends with Ashes and was often found in Brians company as well as rekindling his friendship with TS. He also tried to talk with Jonny, but Jonny wasn’t quite ready for that yet and almost always shut down whenever Tim tried, leaving the poor gun-lover confused.
Jonny had come up with an infinite amount of ways to tell Tim it was him and explain what had happened, but none seemed good enough and every scenario he could come up with ended in Tim hating him.
Beside, it seemed like Tim had finally managed to get himself together and Jonny was determined to not be the one to pull him apart again.
But as Nastya had already said, he wasn’t going to be able to hide this forever and soon enough he found himself caught in a reveal.
Tim had obviously caught on to the fact that he didn’t like talking to him and that everyone referred to the First Mate with a moniker instead of his name, almost as if they were trying to hide something from him and he was confused about what.
He had gathered that Nastya and this mysterious guy were closest and had gone to her to ask what he had done wrong.
Jonny on the other hand considered Auroras engine room, also known as Nastyas safe space, as his own safe space. He’d go there to bitch and whine or to sit in silence comfortably, knowing she wouldn't ask and just offer a hug.
Today, he was coming in to annoy her, since she had been holed up for a week and Jonny had deemed that enough lack of social interaction. He threw open her door, not noting that there were two figures in there, and loudly yelled: “A normal person needs interaction and you had enough you-time with Aurora, lets bitch about life.”
Instead of the groan of annoyance he was expecting, he got a small gasp from Nastya, then a loud yell in an achingly familiar voice: “Jonny? It’s you?”
His eyes met Tims as they grew wide and in his momentary panic, he replied: “If I say no, will you believe me?”
“You- you- you survived? You’re- you’re immortal.” Tims voice broke.
Jonny swallowed, completely unequipped to deal with this. He stood frozen in place until Tim got up, at which point he turned around and got the fuck out of there, the whole situation making his head hazy with stress.
He locked his door behind him. Looking around his messy room, he decided that this was his new home for the rest of eternity now, because he didn’t think he was ever going to be ready to deal with that confrontation ever.
Alas he only got a full three seconds of peace before someone was banging on his door. It wasn’t hard to figure out who it was and his suspicions were confirmed when Tim called out: “Love, angel, darling talk to me. I know you’re in there.”
At first Jonny wanted to stay quiet, pretend he wasn’t in there, but the knocking and calling out continued, until it became weaker and weaker and Jonny could hear sobs from the other side of the door.
“Go away, please.” that had not been what he wanted to say, but Tim was still in shock and the moment he thought about it, he would be mad at Jonny and Jonny didn’t think his heart could take that.
Tim gasped, shocked. Then he heard a chocked back cry before Tims footsteps disappeared down the hall.
With Tim gone Jonny allowed himself to fully break down. This was it, Tim knew. Now he was shocked, but then he’d think about it and see how it was Jonnys fault this happened and he’d get mad at Jonny and take back all the times he’d told him he’d loved him, which were the only memories keeping his sane right now.
He would probably tell the others what happened and Tim was a sweetheart and incredibly precious, so who wouldn't be on his side and then they wouldn't want Jonny there and he’d be tossed out and on his own again.
Not that he didn���t deserve it, but it would still hurt.
Jonny didn’t know how long he sat there, but he was pretty sure he died of dehydration a few times and it felt like he had become one with the floor.
A loud knock startled Jonny out of the emotional blocked out trance he had been in and Ashes called out: “Oh my fucking god, Jonny, get you stupid ass out here now and go apologize to Tim and make things right or I swear to everything unpleasant that I will burn all your stuff.”
“What?” Jonny replied, startled.
He of course did not know that Tim had done nearly the same routine of locking himself into his room and crying, however, Tim had been more responsive to outside help and let Ashes in. He had told them everything and they had gotten pissed on his behalf.
You see, Tim had not interpreted everything as Jonny had feared, instead he had assumed that Jonny had never even loved him, but had seen him and Bertie as a little plaything that fell away compared to his immortal lifespan.
When Ashes heard this incredibly stupid explanation of events they had filled the blanks that had confused them about Jonnys behavior the past year and marched to his room to yell at him for being a dumbass.
“He thinks you hate him, go tell him you love him.” Ashes told him.
“What!” Jonny exclaimed, tugging open his door with a shocked face at the same time Tim came running into the hall: “Ashes, no, don’t-”
On the side of his face there was a little blood, it was clear that Ashes had killed him to get a head start to Jonnys room, but he still managed to look breathtakingly beautiful.
For a moment Jonny was speechless, open and closing his mouth helplessly while he waved his arm around meaninglessly. Then he swallowed and brokenly asked: “You really think that?”
“Think what?” Tim replied, sounding so vulnerable.
“Do you really think I hate you?” Jonnys eyes were full of heartbreak and his voice full of disbelief.
“Why are you acting like that’s such a weird conclusion, Jonny?” Tim asked him, “Why are you acting like you didn’t ignore me for a year and desperately tried not to have me find out who you were while I mourned you? While I was alone? I missed you, I needed you and you weren’t there.”
Jonny didn’t know what hurt more, the broken tone of Tims voice or the use of his name. Tim took so much joy in finding the sappiest petnames to use and Jonny had almost forgotten how his own name sounded in that voice.
Tear sprung in his eyes and he hardly noticed Ashes quickly backing away as he answered: “Because you should be hating me right now.”
Tim sighed, all the frustration and anger leaking out of him as he said: “Why do you always think that you’re to blame? We tried so hard to tell you how worthy you are, why do you always do this to yourself?”
The tears now really started to fall as Jonny fell to his knees, sobs tearing from his throat. He didn’t know why he always blamed himself, it just always seemed so logical that he was the thing that messed everything up.
He was just babbling, apologizing over and over again when Tims knees appeared through the watery haze of tears and two arms wrapped around him.
Tim pulled him close and kissed his temple as he rocked him back and forth every so slightly, like all the times Jonny had had a nightmare in the trenches. He whispered into his hair: “It’s okay, it’s alright, love, just let it out. I’m not mad at you, I still love you.”
Jonny was barely able to form words, but his mind clamped onto how important it was that Tim knew how much he loved him as well, so he chocked out: “I love you too, so so much.”
The arms around him squeezed him for a moment and Tim brokenly told him: “I know, dear, I know.”
They could’ve sat there for eternities and not have noticed with how lost they were in one another, just glad to have the other safe in their arms. They might be missing someone, but at least they could bear that heartbreak together, at least they weren’t alone, not again.
Never again.
#RR writing#The Mechanisms#the mechs#tw: mentions of war#tw: low self esteem#tw: grief#Jonny d'Ville#gunpowder tim & jonny d'ville#gunpowder tim#Ashes O'Reilly#bertie (the mechs)#jonny d'ville x gunpowder Tim
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Tight
Jonny gets pulled into a fox-hole by Bertie and Tim, who do not know he’s claustrophobic. They try to keep him calm during the attack and he confesses that he is immortal. They still love him
On AO3.
Ships: Bertie x Jonny x Tim
Warnings: claustrophobia, panick attack, war & Jonnys low self esteem. Tell me if I missed something or if you want me to tag anything!
~~~~~~~~~~~
The alarms started to blare above them, a microwave attack.
Bertie and Tim quickly looked around for a fox-hole and started to pull Jonny along, who cursed himself as he tried to get free, but the others were both taller and stronger, so his struggling was to no avail.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to survive, he’d died enough times from such an attack to know it was unpleasant, it was more that he would much rather die than go into a fox-hole. You see, Jonny was claustrophobic and being stuck in a small space for a few minutes seemed like hell.
If it were any other day he would sneak off with The Toy Soldier, claiming they would hide together, while in reality it kept watch by his corpse until he was revived.
However, The Toy Soldier had disappeared a few months back and last Jonny heard of it, it was on its way to become Field Marshall, which was good for it. But bad for Jonny, since he was now here, getting pulled into a fox-hole that was not really made for three by Tim and Bertie.
Tim and Bertie had quickly caught on to his unwillingness, so he was situated between them, while they held onto him to stop him from leaving.
“What the hell, Jonny.” Tim said, “Why would you fight? You can die out there.”
Jonny didn’t respond, instead he was trying to focus on his breathing and trying to ignore how small the space was and how easily he could suffocate. He anxiously started to drum his fingers against his leg and humming the first song that came to mind.
“Is that- is that the recruiter song?” Tim asked perplexed when it was the only response to his question.
He was at Jonnys back while Bertie was in front of him, so Tim couldn't see the panicked expression on his face in the dim alarm light of the fox-hole, but Bertie could. He asked: “Hey, are you alright, Jonny?”
Jonny gave an affirming but stressed hum, before he squeaked: “Jup, completely fine me, never better.”
Well, that was obviously a lie. The worry in the other two grew as the tapping and humming continued. Bertie remembered how Jonny had melted that one time Tim got a knot out of his hair, so he tentatively reached up and carded a hand through Jonnys hair.
Immediately the slight bouncing stopped, they hadn’t even noticed Jonny was doing it until it stopped, and the tapping slowed down.
Bertie continued petting Jonnys hair, while he asked: “It’s okay, it’s okay. Can you tell us what’s wrong? What set you off like that?”
It was silent for a moment and Tim and Bertie were just starting to think Jonny wouldn't answer at all, when he whispered: “Is so tight and small.”
“The fox-hole?” Tim asked.
They could feel the small nod against their chests as Jonny started to tremble and humming louder.
Bertie picked up the petting again while Tim tried to make Jonnys tense shoulders relax for a bit. He whispered: “It’s alright, Jonny-love, it’s okay. It’ll be over before you know it, just breathe and relax, okay. You did this before, you can-”
“No.”
“No?” Tim repeated.
“I’ve not done this before.” Jonny admitted, to hell with trying to seem normal to keep them by his side. If they really loved him as much as they said, they wouldn't mind immortality, right?
“What makes you say that, dear?” Bertie asked, “I know for a fact that this is not your first microwave attack.”
Jonny took a shaky breath and said: “Remember how I always joke I’m immortal?”
He didn’t dare to look up and see what expressions the other two wore as they told him they both remembered the jokes.
“Well, they’re not really jokes. I, uhm, I usually just die during these because it’s better than having to be locked into one of these.” Jonny explained.
It was quiet for a moment, when neither reacted Jonny got worried and started babbling: “I know I probably should have told you both and I swear I was gonna, but then I thought maybe you’d be mad at me and I don’t want you to be mad at me, but now I’m stuck in here and that’s really not good for me, because small spaces are fucking terrifying and I would rather die than deal with this, literally, it’s not like it matters if I die anyway, you kn-”
“Oh my poor dear.” Bertie breathed out, “That’s not- that’s not- oh no.”
“Wha?” Jonny was confused.
“Just let him process for a moment, Jonny-love.” Tim kissed the top of his head.
“Is he mad?” Jonny asked fearfully.
“No, of course not, he’s just coming to terms with the fact that you died painfully each time while we thought you were safe with TS, it’s not healthy to do that, darling.” Tim explained, “I’m also not entirely pleased with that fact, but I get why you did it.”
“But I get back, so it’s not an issue, right?” Jonny sounded confused, which broke Tims heart.
“Just because you get back doesn’t mean it isn’t painful, dear.” Bertie joined the conversation, “You shouldn’t let yourself be killed and get hurt, because you can take it. God, can I- can I hug you right now?”
“Please.” Jonnys voice broke a bit.
Immediately two arms were around him, it was a bit hard to maneuver since it was such a cramped space, something Jonny was trying very hard to ignore. So far the stress of being rejected and kicked out had partly overridden his claustrophobia, but with that soothed, it came back with full force.
A small sob made its way out of his throat before he could stop it and once he had started it was hard to stop.
Tim and Bertie just held him while he cried and waited for this all to be over. He wanted to be out of here, he wanted to be held and he just wanted everything to be okay again. His gasped trying to get enough air into his lungs, but it wasn’t really working.
Bertie loosened his grip and asked: “Am I holding you too tight?”
“N- no,” Jonny sniffled, “rather know it’s you than no space, you’re comfy.”
He burrowed his face into Berties chest and held on tight to the others uniform, behind him Tim was massaging his neck, his soft reassuring whispers slightly frantic.
Jonny was sure he was going to explode from exhaustion or stress when the alarm light turned off, signaling the attack was over. He nearly collapsed in relief, but just as he was about to climb out of the fox-hole they heard some shots being fired.
“I’m so sorry about this, love.” he heard Tim whisper behind him, as he stopped Jonny from getting out and put a hand over his mouth.
The hand was a good call, because Jonny terrified cry was muffled by it. Tim never felt like such a bad person than in that moment, holding the small trembling form of Jonny as he refused to let him get out.
Seconds seemed to pass like hours as the fighting moved above them, first right on top and then further along. The moment he deemed it safe, Tim released Jonny and helped him get out as fast as he could.
Bertie and he climbed out after him and rubbed his back soothingly as he sat on hands and knees gasping for air desperately and crying softly.
“I’m so sorry, Jonny-love, I’m so so so sorry about that, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Tim whispered.
Beside him Bertie said: “It’s okay, dear, it’s all over, you made it, it’s done, you don’t have to go back, you’re done.”
It seemed to last an eternity, before Jonny had calmed down enough to be able to talk. He swallowed a few times, then croaked: “I’m okay, I’m fine, just tired.”
Tim immediately offered him his canteen with water, a guilt pressing down on him. Jonny took it gratefully and drank a few huge gulps, before Bertie grabbed it from him and asked: “How are you feeling?”
“Tired.” Jonny mumbled, then he added, “And still a bit freaked, honestly.”
“Do you want to sit for a moment?” Bertie asked.
Jonny answered and they just sat silently in the sand of the moon for a few moments, leaning against the side of the tunnel with Jonny between them. He was still humming slightly, but he seemed less tense with every passing second.
“I’m sorry about that.” Tim broke the silence after a while.
“Wha?” Jonny asked, confused.
“Well, I forced you into that fox-hole and then held you there, it’s my fault you had to go through that, so sorry.” Tim explained.
If it weren’t pitch dark, Tim could have seen Jonny blush quite heavily as he replied: “You just wanted to keep me safe, it’s my own fault I didn’t tell you both about the whole immortality thing.”
“Yeah, we’re still going to talk about that when you feel better.” Bertie said, “It’s not okay that you think you can just die all the time just because you get back. It matters to me that you die and I’m going to make sure you don’t think your life isn’t worth that much.”
“I second that.” Tim agreed, before Jonny could interject with some sort of self-deprecating comment.
“But lets get you back to camp safely first, okay.” Bertie said more lighthearted.
“Here, I’ll carry you.” Tim offered.
“I just told you I’m immortal, you’d think that you’d understand that I should be the one protecting you two.” Jonny grumbled, not accepting the piggy-back ride.
“And you just had a panic attack, so I think we’re justified. Now, just accept Tims offer and lets get going, I think I still have a bit of booze left back at camp.” Bertie replied.
Well, Jonny couldn’t really say no to that, beside getting carried and cared for for a bit sounded really appealing right now. He could let his guard down for a moment, he was safe here with them. It was going to be okay.
#RR writing#The Mechanisms#the mechs#jonny#gunpowder tim#bertie (the mechs)#bertie x tim x jonny#Bertie x gunpowder Tim x Jonny d'ville#tw: claustrophobia#tw: panic attack#jonnys low self esteem#tw: war
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Text
Made for two
When they get stuck in a fox-hole Jonny gets slightly too comfortable between Bertie and Tim, who decide to tell him how much he means to them when he freaks out about letting himself get affection.
On AO3.
Ships: Tim x Bertie x Jonny
warnings: Jonnys low self esteem and mentions of war. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!
~~~~~~~~~
Jonny skidded into a fox-hole, Tim hot on his trail while Bertie held up the lead-sheet. This wasn’t an unusual situation to find themselves in, but what was different was that The Toy Soldier wasn’t there and that Bertie and Tim weren’t next to each other, instead sandwiching Jonny between the two of them.
This was a fact Jonny became aware of the moment the lead-sheet was lowered above them. His eyes flitted between Berties chest in front of him and the sheet above him as he cursed.
“What’s wrong?” Bertie asked concerned as he heard the swears.
Blushing Jonny said: “Nothing, nothing, just a tight fit.”
And that wasn’t a lie, the fox-hole wasn’t made for this many people and was smaller than the one they normally occupied back when TS was still with them, but it was mostly that Jonny felt awkward he had gotten between Bertie and Tim.
Bertie and Tim were always near each other and touching, it was clear how much they loved one another and now he was trapped between them in a small hot space without The Toy Soldier as barrier.
Don’t get Jonny wrong, he didn’t not want to be here, actually he would like nothing less then the comfort and closeness Bertie and Tim could give him, but he didn’t want to intrude on them or impose his own need for affection on them.
It had gotten a bit quiet after his reply, but there was a bit of shuffling, then Tim said: “I don’t think I can get backwards, this is made for two, sorry.”
“‘S alright. I don’t mind that much.” Jonny tried to backtrack, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll live.”
“Are you sure?” Bertie checked.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” Jonny waved his concern away.
He felt how the two others had shuffled away to press themselves into the wall as much as possible to give him as much space as possible. He was now able move a bit and the space immediately felt to big and cold, despite the cramped heat that was the reality.
Above them the alarms still blared but in the fox-hole it was silent. Jonny was well aware of how uncomfortable he had probably made the other two and was wracking his brain for something to say to make it right, but nothing came through the insults directed at himself.
With his thoughts somewhere else Jonny didn’t notice his rifle slipping of his shoulder, so when it suddenly dropped to the floor he yelped slightly and jumped, making him fall into Berties chest.
Before he could apologize Tim had a hand over his mouth and hissed: “Shush, I think I hear someone.”
The three of them froze as they listened. For a moment nothing happened, then they heard a gurgle and the sounds of someone sizzling. Berties eyes grew wide and he said: “Someone’s dying out there.”
“And we’re not helping them, love.” Tim told him with a stern look, moving his hand from Jonnys mouth to Berties shoulder as he looked him in the eye, “Whoever it is, they’re dead now, we are not risking it.”
Bertie looked up for a second, then relented. He put his hand on Tims and agreed: “Okay, we’ll stay.”
During the conversation they had all but forgotten about Jonny, who wasn’t going to point this out to them, instead focusing on how much taller the two were, a detail he hadn’t really noticed until they were literally talking over his head.
However, Bertie did notice, which in turn made Tim notice, making them both shuffle back with an apology.
Jonny missed them instantly and snapped: “For fucks sake, I don’t think you got an illness, we’re gonna be here for a while, please just stand normally, Jesus fuck.”
It was silent for a moment. Jonny was just about to start worrying if he’d said something wrong when Tim commented: “I don’t think fuck was his last name, but I never really paid attention in Sunday school.”
Bertie and Jonny laughed at that as everyone relaxed slightly as they waited for the minutes to tick by. It took a surprisingly long time to cook someone in a microwave and the Lunar Men never took chances, so microwave attacks could take a while.
So they just stood in their fox-hole and waited.
If The Toy Soldier were here, Jonny would be annoying it while Tim and Bertie held each other and whispered lowly.
Jonny missed that, missed TS cheerfully obliging him in reshaping its mustache or not minding him fiddling with the buttons on its uniform.
Now that he thought about it, he missed the others too. He might have enlisted on his own, but that was because there was nothing better to do on the stupid planet he had been dumped on as punishment.
He hoped the other were okay, he hoped Ashes was protecting Nastya like they’d promised and Brian wasn’t letting the loneliness of the cockpit get to him and that Ivy wasn’t letting herself get lost between her books. He even hoped The Toy Soldier was having fun on the other side.
All these emotions hit him when he looked up and saw Bertie staring lovingly at Tim, who was most likely behind him staring back.
Here he was, in a random solar system, on a random moon, in a tiny fox-hole all by himself keeping two people from getting a bit of comfort. He always ruined relations between people, that’s why he had been dumped there, apparently plotting against the captain was mutiny and unacceptable.
The sadness of it all was almost funny.
His knees buckled slightly beneath him and he could hear himself make a noise that could be interpreted as both a laugh and a sob.
Meeting Berties chest with his forehead, the other asked: “Jonny? Jonny, are you alright?”
Jonny leaned for a moment, then sighed: “I’m fine, I’m fucking fabulous.”
He was sure Tim was about to make a smart-ass comment about that when the alarms cut out, signaling the attack was over.
“Oh thank fuck.” Jonny released a breath as he started to climb out of the fox-hole, but before he could get far, he was tugged back down by Tim, who returned his hand over Jonnys mouth as he shushed him and whispered about a fast infantry attack right after a few days back.
Tim was about to loose a finger to Jonnys teeth when they heard footsteps and rifles firing. Bertie and Tims hearts beat in their throats as they silently waited for the footsteps and fighting to go away, so that they would be safe.
They tensed up at the footsteps directly above them and prayed the Lunar Men wouldn’t notice the slight change in sound when they hit the lead-sheet.
Unconsciously Tim had started inching closer to Bertie, taking Jonny with him. With the extra weight above them, a bit of the wall crumbled, making Tim come forward even more.
Jonny was now really pressed tightly between the two. Tims hand was still over his mouth, while his other arm was around Jonnys waist from where he had put it to keep Jonny from leaving the fox-hole. Bertie meanwhile had wrapped his left arm protectively around Tim, squishing Jonny into his chest, as his right aimed his rifle up, ready to fire.
The seconds seemed to pass like hours, but soon the footsteps walked on and after that the rest of the noises ceased as well.
Three pairs shoulders released the tension in them, well, two pairs of shoulders, Jonny was already quite relaxed. He was practically held upright by the two other and he’d gone boneless in the unfamiliar comforting warmth, beneath his ear he could hear Berties heart beating steadily and there was no place he’d rather be right now.
With the immediate danger gone Bertie and Tim now seemed to notice the limp form of Jonny in their arms. They looked down, faces full of concern that Jonny had accidentally gotten killed, but instead found him peacefully leaning against them with his eyes closed.
For a moment neither knew how to proceed. They had never seen Jonny so relaxed and it felt wrong to take that from him.
They shared a look, before they looked back down again as Jonny rubbed his face into Berties chest and sagged even further into them. Softly Bertie said: “Hey there, buddy. Are you awake?”
Jonny frowned slightly at that and mumbled: “Jus’ a littl’onger.”
So apparently Jonny was on the edge of coherency, if Bertie and Tim had to guess it was the nights of staying up to keep watch, not trusting the others to do it, catching up on him as well as a general lack of affection they had observed in him.
If it were a day off in camp when this had happened, they wouldn't hesitate to keep Jonny close and deal with the fall out later if he didn’t return their feelings, but they were in an active war zone right now.
“Jonny, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.” Bertie nudged him again, making him pout.
“Wake up, you fucking donut, we don’t have time for this right now. Can I tempt you with hugs if we survive today?” Tim shook him a bit.
That worked slightly better as Jonny frowned, then blinked blearily, before his eyes snapped open and he tumbled backwards from Berties chest into Tims. He quickly apologized: “Oh my god, I don’t know what happened there, uhm, yeah, so that’s awkward, let’s forget that ever hap-”
“Jonny.” Tim interrupted him, “It’s alright.”
“But I-”
“Just let it be, it’s fine. How about we get out of here and we’ll talk when were safe, because I don’t know about you, but I rather not get trapped in here again.” Tim said.
“Uh, I- okay?” Jonny finally agreed, cheeks bright red.
“Good.” Bertie smiled, before giving him a boost out of the fox-hole, after which he climbed out as well and pulled Tim up.
Jonny was still blushing and pointedly not looking at Bertie or Tim as they made their way back to camp, hoping to catch the Lunar Men between them and rest by surprise on the way there.
Luck was on their side and they, not swiftly but close enough, got rid of the Lunar Men that had walked over them previously. It was a short and violent battle and afterwards Jonny seemed more like himself.
They arrived in camp bloody and to the surprise of everyone, who had assumed they’d died out there with the rest.
After they had collected their rations, Jonny tried to sneak away unnoticed, but when you’re 5ft of concentrated drama that is quite hard and Tim and Bertie easily steered him to their usual hangout spot.
By the time they got there Jonny was quieter and he let himself be pushed down onto the ground, which he started to inspect in detail, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
Bertie sighed, then said: “Jonny…”
Apparently that was enough for whatever had been brewing inside him to burst out: “I’m sorry about what happened back there, I don’t even know why I did that. It was weird and I didn’t mean to do it, so don’t be mad. I won’t do it again, I promise that I won’t.”
They’d gotten a bit overwhelmed by the sudden stream of words, but now they’d gathered their bearings a bit and Bertie quickly said: “Jonny stop, stop, it’s okay, just take a breath.”
Jonny did just that, falling silent for just a moment, a moment that Tim quickly took to assure him: “We didn’t mind, Jonny, I don’t know what your brain is telling you, but it was fine.”
He and Bertie sat down on either side of Jonny. Jonny was tense and poised to leave, but he didn’t seem so stressed anymore, just uncertain.
It was quiet for a moment, then he asked: “Why?”
“What?” Bertie asked.
“Why are you two not super mad at me right now? I got between you two, literally, was annoying about it and then almost fell asleep like some sort of crazy person while we were supposed to be alert and ready and I just didn’t do all that. So why aren’t you mad at me?” Jonny was sounding very confused, a few tears beginning to form.
It broke their heart to see Jonny so confused and upset about them wanting him around. Bertie started to move, but halted the action and asked: “Can I touch you right now?”
Jonnys brow furrowed in confusion, but he nodded, which was enough for Bertie who wrapped an arm around him and said: “We’re not mad at you, because we would like nothing more than to see you comfortable and relaxed for a moment. We want to do that for you.”
Beside him Tim nodded and leaned into Jonnys space as well, making him as comfortable as possible while Jonny thought about that.
He was silent, then he softly asked: “Why would you want to do that? You already have each other and I’m just annoying.”
Bertie and Tim shared a glance, a silent agreement to beat the shit out of everyone who had made Jonny feel like that, before they focused back on the task at hand.
“Because we care about you. It might seem hard to believe in your eyes, but you are so worthy of that, sweetheart.” Tim had always been one for petnames.
“Yeah, we might love each other, but we love you too.” Bertie continued Tims starting point, “You are so soft looking and cute that I just want to wrap you into a hug and never let go and kiss you and tell you it’s all gonna be alright.”
Jonnys face now resembled a neon light with how much he was blushing as he ducked into himself slightly, soaking in their embrace while he processed that all.
Then, so soft it was almost inaudible, Jonny whispered: “I’d like that even if I can’t believe it.”
Immediately they brightened up, they had known Jonny might be insecure or even not into the whole thing, so this was a good outcome all things considered. Tim wasted no time situating Jonny between his legs, so that he could lean against his chest, while Bertie sat in front of him carefully feeding him his rations.
For a moment it seemed Jonny was going to protest against it, but Tim had wrapped his arms around him, pinning his own slightly, so he had relented and by the end his eyes were almost slipping close as he calmly accepted spoonfuls of food.
When the food was gone, Bertie helped Tim and Jonny lay on their side in the tent. The day had already been long and unpleasant and here in the middle of base camp they were at least safe enough to rest peacefully.
Tim spooned Jonny from behind and Bertie embraced him from the front, peppering his face with little pecks that made Jonny giggle. Yes, honest to god giggle, it seemed like either he was too tired to fight it or high on affection, but that didn’t stop Bertie and Tim from fawning over him until he cracked open one eye and grumbled a bit, only earning him more coos.
Jonny looked like he belonged there, his face was slack, making him look more youthful, and his limbs were warm and pliant in their arms as he hummed contently at the snuggles. Tim behind him fit too as he gently kissed the top of Jonnys head and held him tightly. Like he was made for the two of them.
Bertie admired them for a moment, then he squeezed both his boys tightly and promised: “I’m gonna make sure neither of you forget how loved you are.”
A promise he never got to keep.
#RR writing#The Mechanisms#the mechs#Jonny d'Ville#gunpowder tim#bertie (the mechs)#bertie x tim x jonny#Bertie x gunpowder Tim x Jonny d'ville#moon war#tw: mentions of war#tw: war
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