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thewritingbeforesunrise · 6 months

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Share Our Skin (part 3.1)

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

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This is a smut twin fic (not twincest). If it's not your thing, please scroll.

A/N: This is the last and long-awaited part of the wonderful request from the lovely @twistedmelodies. Her request was based on the picture of the twins in the Age of Machine music video that you can see in this collage. Thank you so much, Hannah. Your patience, kindness and support were absolutely unmatched.

I had to divide it because it is too long.

I really hope you like this one.

Share Our Skin (part 1)

Share Our Skin (part 2)

Join the taglist here.

Word count: 3K

Pairing: Josh x female!reader x Jake

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, sexual tension, graphic sexual content, language, unprotected penetrative sex.

Summary: In the end, your lies inevitably catch up on you.

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You were utterly disgusted by yourself.

You didn't know what had possessed you that Wednesday night when you had met Jake in that bar.

But now, two months later, you were still in deep trouble, with no way out.

Well, there was a way out but every time you thought about what the right thing to do was, you always ended up chickening out and thinking that you could keep them both for just a little bit longer.

You had come to the conclusion that you liked them both.

In very different ways, but both nonetheless.

Josh was like an early morning ray of sunshine that warmed your skin just right without burning it. He was like white soft cotton and the smell of fresh sheets. You would have listened to him blabber about his favorite movies, directors and film techniques for hours, with his boisterous voice that echoed through the cinema rooms. He exuded a deep sense of calmness and happiness into your soul.

Jake, instead, was the complete opposite. He was like a dark stormy sky with swirling clouds, heavy rain and whistling wind. He reminded you of the feeling of soaked clothes sticking to skin and heavy breathing into each other's mouth. But he wasn't only loud guitar solos and hungry eyes. He was like the thrill of a night dive into the dark limitless ocean. His touch felt forbidden and lighted your body into instant flames.

Together they made the absolute perfect man.

But surely you couldn't have both and sooner or later you would end up regretting your poor life choices and hurting yourself and them.

But yet you ended up seeing and desiring both of them.

You usually saw Josh on Saturdays, when he showed you new movies and shared with you interesting anecdotes about them, commenting on every scene, technique or actor involved. He was like an encyclopedia of cinema and he laughed every time you compared him to one.

Some Saturday nights he came to your flat, and others he invited you to his house.

One night, Josh had invited you over for dinner. He had told you he had a new film to show you, but refused to tell you what it was. He had expertedly dodged every question you had about it, successfully intriguing you to the point that you couldn't wait to see it.

You started getting ready hours in advance, so when you heard the horn of his car outside, you grabbed your bag and a paper box and ran downstairs.

You hated going to people's houses with empty hands, so that afternoon you had decided to cook some pizza for him.

He was waiting by his car next to your apartment and when he saw you, his eyes lit up. His perfect smile beamed as he enveloped you in a tight hug, kissing your temple.

"Hi, darling" he whispered and you blushed.

"Hi, Josh" you replied, feeling his hand grasp yours.

"Are you ready? You didn't need to bring anything, by the way. What is it?" He asked as he took the bags from your hands and carefully placed them in the back of his Jeep, eyeing them curiously.

"You have a surprise for me, and I have a surprise for you. It seems only fair to me" you told him and he rolled his eyes and kissed your knuckles as he started the car.

The drive to his house wasn't long and before you knew it, you were there.

It was a detached house on one floor, more on the outskirts than your little rented flat. It was huge and had a big garden at the front.

The sun was setting and the sky looked like a painting. The clouds had assumed deep shades of orange, red, grey and black and these beautiful colour reflected on the glass of the windows making the house glow.

Big oaks and chestnut trees surrounded the building that was located on a little hill, the driveway you followed curled up slightly to reach it

He stopped his car on the little gravel yard at the front and exited, opening your door and grabbing your bags in the back.

When you entered, the first thing you noticed was the warm smell of vanilla and patchouli engulfing you. You spotted it. It came from a candle that he had left on, on his fireplace. Its dim glow reflected onto the shiny dark wooden floor up to the entrance, its warm orange color matching the glow of the sunset outside.

The white walls glowed from the orange light filtering through the many windows.

Vintage movie posters crowded every room wall and many potted plants were scattered across the floor in an organized mess that was so Josh.

The first sensation that pervaded you when you entered was immense coziness.

You loved everything about his house. From the big windows, many without curtains showing the trees and the sky outside, to the eclectic choice of furniture.

In a corner there was a floor lamp that immediately caught your eye.

From the top of it, beaded crystals fell towards the floor in a spiral, circling around the stem. It looked ancient and expensive. Majestic.

He guided you to the kitchen and placed your bags on the big cherry wood table.

He opened the box and gasped, seeing the pizza there. His eyes lit up and he gasped, placing it on baking tray to place in the oven.

You helped him put the pizza to reheat in the oven he had opened for you, placed some napkins on the coffee table and settled on the emerald green velvet couch.

He sat down next to you and handed you a roll of film he retrieved from the side of the couch.

"I found this the other day, amongst some other new rolls that arrived at the cinema. Since I know how much you love Hitchcock's films, I thought about borrowing this to watch it with you" he explained, shifting the roll between his hands.

You blushed, thinking about how cute he was for choosing something you loved, but then the logistics of it all confused you.

The roll he had in his hands was meant for a cinema projector, so your expression turned confused since you were at his house and not at the cinema.

He had never told you he owned a vintage projector so when he stood to open the cabinet and you saw it, you gasped loudly bringing a beaming smile to his face.

You both watched the movie with curiosity, and everytime he whispered into your ear to tell you some anecdotes about the movie, you marveled at his knowledge, falling a little bit more for him every time.

"Did you know that for this specidic scene Hitchcock used a very big crane to move the camera slowly from the top of the stairs downwards? It's called dolly." He whispered, moving his hands like he was holding an imaginary camera.

"No I didn't. But it gives an incredible sense of…" you trailed off in search of the right word.

"Suspence" you both said together and started to chuckle. You lost yourself in his eyes and kissed him without a second thought.

The sound of the oven timer going off broke the spell between the both of you.

He parted from you hastily and stood up to grab the pizza, telling you with a wink to stay where you were.

He had bewitched you with the movie and his knowledge that you had completely forgotten about the food.

He stood to turn off the oven and brought the food to the coffee table.

He complimented it profusely, sinking his teeth in the slightly crunchy dough and moaning in pleasure at the enveloping taste of tomato sauce and mozzarella.

You ended up falling asleep on the couch. His body was cuddled behind yours under a soft blanket, one of his arms was circling your body in a loose embrace and your head was resting on his other arm as a makeshift pillow. The slow rising and falling of his chest and the soft sound of wind outside had lulled you to sleep.

In your deep state of slumber, you suddenly felt something tickling your nose, light as a feather.

Then nothing.

But then you felt it again, this time followed by a little giggle and a barely there gush of breath.

The feeling repeated itself a few more times until you opened your eyes slowly and you saw Josh’s smile beaming down at you.

He kissed your nose again and this time his giggle echoed in the room, no more afraid to wake you, since he had already managed that.

He started covering your entire face with little kisses as you squirmed away, ticklish.

When he reached your lips, he lingered a few inches away and his eyes connected with yours, glimmering in the pale light of the moon.

"I thought I was dreaming" he started whispering not breaking eye contact.

"What were you dreaming about?" You asked in a whisper, voice still groggy with sleep

"I thought I was dreaming about an angel" he said, his eyes were serious.

"But turned out I was wide awake just looking at you." He said and even in the dark you blushed furiously.

Nobody had ever spoken to you like that.

You snaked a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down, meeting his lips in a slow sweet kiss.

Then, slowly and deliberately, you started removing each other's clothes, one by one until you were one in the arms of the other completely bare.

You were laying on your back, your head propped up the cushion on the armrest and he was slotted between your legs, trailing kisses down your neck, his soft curls tickling your jaw

You ran your hand into his hair and grabbed it lightly, making him groan and roll his hips against yours.

"Josh" you whispered.

"What is it, what do you need?" He whispered back.

"You, I need you" you whispered back bringing his hand between your legs.

You hissed when his cool fingers caressed you slowly and you shuddered when he replaced them with the velvety head of his member.

When he finally pressed into you, he did it agonizingly slow.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, keeping him flush against you and bringing him even deeper.

His slow deep thrusts brought you both to your end quickly, the intensity evident in your shaking glistening bodies and in your drawn-out whimpers.

Your nails dug into his back as his final thrusts made you topple over the edge, his orgasm hitting him seconds before yours.

His body slumped against yours and your eyes started to drift closed, tiredness having the best on you.

The last thing you remembered right before falling asleep on his couch was the feeling of soft cotton fabric being gently dragged between your legs to clean you up and him nuzzling his nose against yours like a cat.

Wednesday evenings were Jake’s, instead.

Your nights out usually started with you watching him play his improvised concerts in dingy bars. It was always more and more difficult for you to keep your indecent thoughts at bay the more you admired him play.

Those evenings always ended with trysts in secluded places.

Backstages. Bathrooms. Dark alleys next to the bars. Inside his car. Against his car.

One time you even ended up in the cellar where the bartenders stored pallets of beverage and beer kegs.

With him you were always on the edge of getting caught.

You almost never went to his house.

But just because the two of you couldn't hold back and usually jumped eachother bones way before reaching it.

One night you were halfway to it.

The engine of his Mustang was roaring into the stormy night and the hand that wasn't busy with the steering wheel was gripping your thigh, waiting to bring you to his house to devour you properly, but you couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop the car" you murmured.

"What, doll?" He eyed you briefly with a confused expression before looking back towards the road.

"Please, stop the car" you repeated, a little more vehemently.

"We are almost there doll, just two more turns and I'll be all yours" he cooed, biting his bottom lip and digging his thumb into the muscle of your thigh.

"Stop this fucking car, Jake!" You yelled and you saw his expression change to a concerned look as he pulled abruptly over to the side of the dark road, the rain picking up slightly on the roof of the almost still car.

You didn't even give him enough time to stop the car properly, though.

You swiftly turned towards him and reached for his belt, unbuckling it and sneaking a hand into his jeans, feeling him half hard and hot against your palm.

The car jolted forward to a stop when he abruptly lifted his foot from the clutch.

He groaned at the contact and gasped when in a second you tugged harshly on the zipper, freeing him and plunging him to the back of your throat, without as much as a second thought or a warning.

You couldn't help it, you had pavloved yourself.

After listening and watching him play his music so passionately you needed him like you needed air.

And you couldn't wait any longer, not even two turns.

His hips started buckling upwards with groaned curses and the sounds of you gagging around him filled the car.

But you didn't care.

You stopped abruptly and climbed on top of him.

You quickly lined him up with your entrance, after pushing your panties to the side, and sank harshly down onto him, enveloping him completely.

He cursed loudly and hissed, slapping your thigh because of the sudden move.

You set a rapid pace, bouncing on top of him like mad and digging your nails in his shoulders for leverage, but he gripped your hips and stopped you with a grimace onto his face.

He was already close.

"What the hell has gotten into you, doll?" He inquired out of breath, as he forcefully squeezed your hips, struggling to keep you still.

"Shut up and fuck me, Jakey" you whined into his ear and he finally let you move, countering your thrusts downward with upwards pushes of his strong hips.

The car filled with lewd sounds of slapping skin and heavy breathing and the windows fogged up quickly.

It was hard and fast and you knew you both were going to come quickly, but, in all honesty, you didn't care. You knew you would be ready to go again as soon as you reached his house, anyway.

There was no intention in prolonging the moment, from the both of you. You just needed relief.

You came together soon after, foreheads pressed together and eyes in eyes, moaning loud.

"You needed it that bad, baby?" He managed to say after a few minutes of silence, still wrapped one around the other.

You nodded, spent and sweaty and hid your face in the crook of his neck extremely embarrassed by your behaviour.

"Sorry" you mumbled.

"Hey, what is this for?" He asked, still trying to regulate his breathing after your onslaught.

"I didn't mean to act like a cat in heat. I am sorry. I just- sometimes I can't help myself when I'm around you" you whispered into his neck.

He chuckled and lifted your face with his pointer finger.

"That was hot, baby, incredibly hot. Don't ever apologise for needing to feel good." He whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Let's go, my house is close" he whispered onto your lips, helping you position yourself back on your seat.

You started to straighten your skirt and buttoning your blouse but he stopped you with a firm hand on your thigh.

"Don't even bother, doll. If you think I am not going to tear up your clothes as soon as I get you in my house you are wrong" he whispered sultrily, kneading the flesh of your thigh with his thumb.

Soon, you were in front of his house.

You couldn't see much of it, though, because of the rain that coated the car windows and the darkness of the night.

You could only see that it had two floors and it was surrounded by trees and a garden that curled up one side of the building.

Before you could see more, he parked into the garage and you couldn't even take a look around there because, as soon as the car stopped his lips were on yours again, stealing your breath away.

It was always the same

You came home from one of those encounters with one of them and you were sure and determined to end things with the other.

But all it took was a simple text from the other boy, maybe about something completely meaningless and your thoughts ended up being completely messed up again in a matter of seconds.

You really couldn't seem to make a final decision, you were so invested with them both that it was incredibly frustrating.

You had lost count of how many times you had tried to list the pros and cons of dating one or the other, but you always ended up in a loop and abandoned the idea, only to come to the conclusion that you couldn't choose one to save your life.

So you always ended up doing what you did best.

You procrastinated the moment in which you knew you would be forced to make up your mind and choose.

But sometimes when you fail to take the matter in your own hands life decides it's time to help you out.

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Read the second part here.

Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #fanfic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #josh gvf #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x reader

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canyouhearthelight · 1 year

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The Miys, Ch. 215

Sometimes, Sophia needs support in a purely morale way, and can’t always get it from her partners.

And sometimes that support comes from a person that... isn’t unexpected, but certainly doesn’t rate in the Top 10 of people she usually turns to.

Thanks, as always, to @baelpenrose for his beta reading, and - in this case - also the concept of Alistair Worthington. Just like I want to (and almost always forget to) thank @werewolf2578 for Maverick.

When I got back to my office, I sent everyone home for the rest of the day. Housing assignments weren’t terribly urgent, and we had all just gone through a major emotional blow. Tyche seconded it, shooing Parvati ahead of her as she left. Alistair insisted on sticking around to finish the briefing for the rest of the Ark’s population, with the irrefutable logic that he wouldn’t get anything done if he went home, since Arthur would almost certainly be there as well.

He arched a questioning brow in my direction when I sat down at my desk rather than head for the door. “Same issue,” I sighed. “You, Tyche, Parvati, Hannah… all of your partners at least know what’s going on. Mine won’t until you finish that release. What am I supposed to do? Sit around and look at their smiling faces, listen about their days, and pretend none this - “ I waved vaguely “- is going on?”

That, at least, earned me a grimace. “Fair point. Would you like me to wait to send this until you’re home, at least? So you can warn them?”

I shook my head. “That’s an abuse of power, and I’ve already used one today. Just let me know when you’re almost done, and I’ll head that way. By that point, a run would probably do me good to burn off the frustration.”

“Ugh,” he shuddered. “Cardio.”

Rather than being irritated, I narrowed my eyes and rested my chin on my knit fingers. “I know you get frustrated - you literally were when I met you. There has to be something you do to vent.”

“Very true.”

I waited for the rest of the answer, but he just continued typing, clipping audio and visual recordings, and attaching supporting documents. “And that is…?”

“You saw it. You’re watching me do it now.” His response was so calm that it confused me.

Watching him for another minute or so, it suddenly clicked what he was talking about. “Ohhh…. You’re one of those….”

He nodded, but kept his eyes on his task. “I am aware.”

“Hmm. Maverick’s like that.”

That stopped my assistant mid-gesture. “Is he really?” He glanced at me, suddenly skeptical that we were on the same page.

Chin still on my fingers, I nodded. “He’s a… I don’t want to say fusser or worrier, but he needs to do something he can control when he’s upset about a situation and can’t do anything about it. Reorganize the silverware, re-fold the laundry… if Else and the Ark didn’t handle dust and whatnot, he would probably have a very serious vacuuming issue.”

“A do-er.”

“Very much so.” Leaning so that my head was supported on just one hand, I started drumming my finger tips. “Now that I think about it, I wonder if I should go ahead and take the silverware out and put it on the counter.”

Alistair shook his head and turned back to his task. “I don’t suggest it. If Arthur did that, it would only upset me more, and at him on top of that.”

I nodded absently. “Good point. Besides, he was military. He’s probably going to handle the news better than Conor or I, by a long shot.”

“Now, your Conor…” he trailed off before seeming to find a stopping point. Dismissing his datapad entirely, he joined me in finger-drumming. “Should I message Arthur to be waiting for a sparring match?”

It was my turn to disagree. “I am almost entirely certain he’s already down there, warming up and bitching. He wasn’t part of the call when Charly contacted the S’crirs, remember?”

Alistair conceded. “True. Speaking of: is any of that conversation to be included in the release to the Ark?”

“Not at this time.” My knee jerk response was Absolutely The Fuck Not. However, we - by which I meant all ten thousandish humans on the ship - had decided that ‘state secrets’ were going the way of the dinosaurs. “I need time to process it and figure out a better way to put it than ‘by the way, we are all accessories to a war crime’.”

A righteous index finger flew up. “Not a war crime, turns out,” he corrected me. “Equivalent of a felony, at best.”

All I could do was blink for several moments. “Seriously?”

“Arson, vandalism, and murder. All of which are felonies,” he confirmed. “I am not passing moral judgment, just attempting to mitigate your tendency to judge yourself too harshly.” He paused before adding. “Besides, they are fascists. Human history does not deal kindly with such.”

“You’ve spent too much time around Arthur,” I muttered.

“And you wound me. I was a professional researcher and archivist. Farro knows he would be wasting his breath attempting to explain fascism to me.”

My eyes rolled so hard the left one cramped. “That has never, in the history of my acquaintance with him, stopped him from debating anything.”

“One cannot debate with an opponent who will not engage.” With a flick, his datapad was open again. “I would suggest you begin your journey to your quarters. I am finalizing everything now that I am sure details regarding our negotiations with the pirates are pending.”

“Say no more.” I stood and headed towards the door. “How long do I have?”

“Twelve minutes, I would say.”

I did the mental math. That was three minutes to message them to either go on shift late or come home early - whichever applied - and still make it home if I jogged.

Ten minutes later, I had never been so glad that my runs through the corridors were a common sight. No one had panicked, everyone had either stood still or moved out of my way - just a normal day with a Councilor in scrubs getting her daily run in.

My leftover two minutes were spent collecting myself for the conversations I very much did not want to have. When I walked into my quarters, I was immediately sandwiched into a three-way hug. “Everything okay, love?” Conor asked, breaking the silence but not the embrace.

They both started to pull away, however, as I felt both my and Maverick’s databand go off. “Don’t check that yet,” I insisted softly, reluctantly letting them pull back so I could see their faces. “Let’s sit down first so I can at least try to brace you both.”

“That’s not helping.” Despite his concern, Maverick tugged me over to the couch to sit against his side. Conor took my other side, turning slightly to face us both and taking my hand.

I tried to keep it brief. “We got a warning from the S’crirs that our escort fleet is trying to permanently ‘protect’ us,” I gestured the quote marks with my fingers. “They included our possible legal courses of action. The details are in the info blast that just hit your wrists, but short answer is that none of the legal options panned out.”

Expecting questions, I paused and ran my hand through my hair, making a distracted mental note that I needed to cut it. They both just watched me patiently, however, and Maverick took over playing with my hair while I forged ahead. “Instead, we’re going to cheat. And it’s horrible. I’m still trying to grasp the fact that it’s real, and the details aren’t in the blast only because I couldn’t figure out a way to explain it without being either pedantic or secretive.”

I felt more than heard Maverick’s heavy breath as he took in the information, while Conor just blinked at me. Finally, he glanced up at my pillow and tilted his head. “Mav, love. Do you want to read through it first, or do you want to hear what we’re actually going to be doing?”

Light tugs on my hair indicated he was thinking hard - he liked to tap a pen or something on flat surfaces when he was deep in thought, and in the absence of that would tug on clothes or hair. “I want to hear the plan, then I think I want to fold clothes.”

“I’ll help you get them out and put them on the bed,” Conor offered. “Before I go to the gym.”

I nodded at the plan. “Arthur is probably already there. He was on the meeting call - it was all hands. He doesn’t know what the actual next steps are, though, so you can’t tell him while you’re there. That’s Charly’s job.”

“Charly?” both asked in unison.

“Yeah,” I confirmed wearily. “She negotiated what I’m about to tell you.” A long blink and a couple breaths later, I clarified. “We - well, the S’crirs, on our behalf - are going to make the environment around the system look too dangerous for a quarantine patrol. Specifically by destroying our escorts and making it look like they hit a microsingularity or four.” I couldn’t see Maverick, but Conor’s face was asking for clarification. “Micro blackholes.”

That earned me a nod. “There has to be a way to do that without all this.” He waved around us at the ship as a whole. “Don’t we have one of those in the engine?”

“I don’t know if that’s how the engine works, but to answer your other question, yes. Unfortunately. Charly seemed pretty sure, at least. Something about dumping antimatter into their drive, plotting a jump, and letting whatever happens happen.”

A low whistle sounded from above me. “That would blow up the ship, while it’s in relativistic space…”

“And that means…?”

“It would look the same,” he confirmed. “No debris, and I’m sure they have a way to check the radiation and gravity in the area, but unless they send someone to do it…”

Conor scoffed and rose to his feet, tugging my hand to move me off of Maverick. “They don’t care that much. They met the requirements, not their fault the convoy vanished - if they even find out it happened until they don’t show up for their next check in.”

“Pretty much what we’re betting on,” I admitted. “But that’s it. Charly negotiated, I stood by for moral support and to get her to a med bay if needed. No one else was there for that part, and it isn’t included in the blast. So, no talking about it unless Charly specifically brings it up with you or until a second blast goes out.” My hands spread in defeat. “That’s all I’ve got.”

Conor’s voice was steady, but I could tell he was hanging on by the last shreds of his composure. This wasn’t something he could fix, but I was proud of how much self control he had now. “I’m going to help Maverick yank all the clothes out onto the bed, then go pick a fight with Arthur. You look knackered, so why don’t you lay down under two or five blankets, turn the lights down, and try to focus on something else.”

“Hannah and Parvati think I should do a big family dinner thing. Like, all day and floating. A potluck.”

He tugged my ankles to stretch my legs out while Maverick started shaking out a blanket to cover me. “That sounds like the ticket. Think about who could bring what. A theme, all that stuff you love.”

“Fine,” I sulked softly before giving Maverick the kiss he leaned over for. After adding another blanket over me, Conor did the same and followed Maverick into our bedroom.

I could just barely hear the soft thumps of armful after armful of clothes being chucked at the wall with all the force someone could muster.

“Beats the hell out of cleaning up glass,” I mumbled before trying to figure out how does one make goulash portable?

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #haw #hfy #original science fiction #original sci fi #original fiction #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #my writing

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im-no-jedi · 1 year

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MLWTBB: Business Is Business

aka the (continued) journey into my self insert nonsense✨

chapter summary: while the Bad Batch is away on a mission, an oddly familiar Devaronian kicks Cid out of her parlor and takes it for himself, causing several problems for Hannah...

notes: this is a continuation of my story, “My Life With The Bad Batch”; I highly recommend reading that first before this one! I created a few new planets for this story. I’m also not 100% versed in SW terminology, so forgive me if some things are labeled incorrectly! each chapter will be rated accordingly, as opposed to the overall fic. lastly, there is romance in this story. hope you enjoy! 💙

add. notes: this chapter was edited and proofread by my sis @jam-n-ham! thanks sis!! 😋💙 also, in case it isn’t obvious, this story is my version of episode 13 “Infested”. I tried to stick to canon as much as possible, while also delving more into one of my favorite side characters in the show (please more of the Durand family in season two 🙏🏻)

Chapter 1, 2500+ words, rated G (there’s mentions of alcohol and that’s about it LOL)

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✨MLWTBB masterlist✨

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It was yet another slow Primeday at Cid’s Parlor. Hannah had woken up a bit late that morning, but thankfully Cid didn’t dock her for it. So far, only Bolo and Ketch were in the parlor, like usual. There was a bit of mess to clean up from the night before, but it didn’t take long for Hannah to get that taken care of. It was an extremely boring time, even more than usual.

All Hannah really hoped for now was that she would finally see her friends come walking through the door again. They had been gone for a few days on another mission for Cid, something Hannah was quite used to by this point. But she was extra lonely this time and missed them more than usual. She thought about how she was going to give Omega the biggest hug ever when they all got back. She imagined Wrecker joining in and scooping both her and Omega up into a squeeze fest between the three of them. She pondered the sort of snide comments Tech and Echo might say about their mission, as they often did whenever they came back to the parlor. She dreamed about seeing Hunter again, the man she loved with all her heart, and telling him how much she missed him as she ran her fingers through his long, dark brown hair. It would be absolutely wonderful.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs towards the parlor. Hannah’s heart leapt into her throat, desperately wishing it was who she thought it was.

But it wasn’t. Not even close.

Several intimidating looking men in dark armor came flooding into the parlor, each of them carrying a weapon. Hannah bolted upright from the counter she’d been leaning against, unsure of what to do. Then another figure came stepping in, quite confidently. It was a male Devaronian with green skin, wearing a nice suit and holding some sort of small lizard creature in his arms. He was obviously the leader of this group. The room went silent as the Devaronian looked around, surveying the place.

Hannah had a moment of panic at the sight of him. Memories of Volruna flooded into her head, with the man in front of her briefly being replaced by the visage of Vin Drazundr instead. She had to literally shake herself back to reality and exhaled deeply. Then she looked to Bolo and Ketch, who were completely frozen in place. With a deep breath, she gathered up all her courage and decided to approach the newcomer. “Uhh, hello! Can I help you?”

The Devaronian adjusted the collar of his shirt before answering her. “I’m looking for Cid. Would you happen to know where she is?”

Cid wasn’t expecting anybody today to Hannah’s knowledge. She knew what she was supposed to do in situations like this. “I might... who exactly is looking for her, if I might ask?”

“Roland,” the Devaronian replied proudly. “Roland Durand. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The name didn’t ring a bell to Hannah at all. The way he was acting though made it out like he was important in some way. Regardless, she didn’t like the vibe she was getting from this guy at all. It unfortunately reminded her of Vin again. “Yeah, a pleasure. I’m sorry, what is your business with Cid? It’s kind of my job to ask so she doesn’t get bothered unnecessarily.”

Roland chuckled. “Adorable. You’ll be a fun bartender, I’m sure.”

Hannah blinked in shock. “Excuse me?”

Roland then made a hand signal to the armored men, who began searching the entire parlor. Bolo and Ketch tried to avoid them as much as possible, insisting they were just there as patrons; eventually, they just ran out of the parlor altogether. Hannah opened her mouth to try and retort to what was going on, but Roland silenced her. Then one of the men discovered the back room and alerted Roland about it. Again, Hannah tried to speak, but was stopped by Roland.

“Be a dear and whip up some drinks for me and my men, would you?” he said as he walked towards the back room.

Hannah stood in place, completely dumbfounded. She was wrong before; this guy was somehow worse than Vin. “Jerk didn’t even tell me what kind of drink he wanted...”

Despite her curiosity, Hannah kept herself away from the room, much to her discretion. She knew Cid had told her to stay out of stuff like this in case there was trouble, but she couldn’t help wanting to rush in and at least see what was going on.

It didn’t take long before Hannah got her answer. The door to Cid’s room slid open, catching Hannah’s attention immediately. To her surprise, Cid was walking out of the hallway, hands in the air, with Roland and some of the armored men behind her.

“What’s going on?” Hannah exclaimed.

“A simple change of hands, sweetheart,” Roland replied. “Nothing more.”

“More like a hostile takeover,” Cid retorted. She saw the concerned look on Hannah’s face and reassured her, “Don’t worry, Red. This ain’t permanent.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Roland said slyly. “Get her out of my parlor, would you, boys?”

Hannah scoffed. “Your parlor?”

As the armored men began literally shoving Cid out, she turned to Roland, shouting, “You better not lay a hand on her, Roland! You’re not her type!”

Roland rolled his eyes and scoffed before turning to Hannah. “Congratulations, you’re now a part of the Durand syndicate. You can thank me by getting those drinks I asked for earlier.”

Hannah was once again too dumbfounded to even move. She felt Roland step closer towards her and instinctively backed away.

“Now, now,” he reassured her. “No need to fret. I’m not your enemy, I promise. In fact, I’ll gladly double whatever Cid was paying you before as a show of my sincerity.”

Hannah scowled at him. “Why do I have a hard time believing that?”

Roland chuckled. “You’re a feisty one. Just do as I say, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.” He gave her a sly look before returning to the back room. A look similar to the one Vin first gave her at the Prism Palace.

Now Hannah knew she definitely had something to worry about.

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

The following day, Hannah decided to conveniently avoid the parlor as long as she could. It didn’t matter what Roland said, or even what he tried to do, there was no way she was going to work for someone like him. Especially while she was alone. Then again, that entire situation would never have happened in the first place if the Bad Batch were there. Hannah began imagining scenarios where the five of them had put a stop to Roland’s takeover of the parlor, if only just to keep herself sane.

In the back of her mind though, she worried. Any number of things could happen between then and whenever her friends actually came back to Ord Mantell. And Roland’s words from the day before still concerned her. She tried to not think about it, but her worries were too strong. The fact that nearly everything about Roland reminded her of Vin didn’t help either.

Maybe she could just leave. She could find somewhere else to stay until the Bad Batch came back and fixed everything. Mrs Ygreu had always said her place was open if Hannah ever wanted to visit, maybe she could go there.

No, Hannah didn’t want anyone else to get involved in this mess unnecessarily. She had to ride this out on her own, as much as she hated it. Maybe Roland would just leave her alone if she stayed away long enough...

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. Hannah’s heart skipped a beat. Initially, she thought it might be one of the Clones finally coming back. Nobody ever visited other than them or Cid. Maybe it was Cid. Hannah hadn’t seen her since the day before. Did anybody else even know where she lived?

Another knock on the door. Hannah’s heart began racing. She had to know who it was. Throwing caution to the wind, Hannah went over to the door and opened it without a second thought, hoping beyond hope it was someone she knew.

Unfortunately, it was the one person she knew that she wished she didn’t.

“Ahh, there you are,” said the recognizable voice of Roland. His lizard-like pet, Ruby, was in his arms and two armored men stood behind him. “I was worried when you didn’t come in today. Is there a problem I should know about?”

Hannah almost laughed. “It’s my day-off,” she replied, a visible scowl on her face.

Roland pursed his lips and hummed. “Good to know.” His eyes began scanning the room behind her curiously. “Interesting space you have here. Mind if I give it a better look?”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “Depends. What’ll you do if I refuse?”

A snicker escaped from Roland’s fanged grin. “I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart.”

There was a familiar pang in Hannah’s chest. Her breath caught in her throat, and a shiver ran down her back. It took her a moment to remember that she was talking to Roland and not Vin.

Without waiting for a response, Roland pushed his way past Hannah into the room. The armored men stayed outside, but waited in the doorway.

“Quite the collection you’ve got in here,” Roland said as he walked through the space. “Although I doubt all of this stuff is yours.” He gestured to one of the large crates against the wall and chuckled.

“It was part of our agreement,” Hannah told him, her arms crossed with a stern look on her face.

“How noble of you,” Roland responded. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the crate. The two armored men came into the room and began dragging the crate out of the apartment. “And now it won’t bother you ever again.”

Hannah maintained the stern look on her face. She could see what Roland was trying to do, and it wasn’t going to work. “What do you want from me, Roland?”

The small lizard creature in Roland’s arms began growling happily as her owner rummaged through Hannah’s fridge. “A drink would be nice,” Roland responded, pulling out a piece of food for Ruby to munch on. “But apparently, it’s your day off.” He sat down on one of the kitchen stools with Ruby in his lap, happily munching on the snack she’d been given. “That’s alright though. You’ll have plenty of time to make up for it tomorrow.”

The hairs on the back of Hannah’s neck were beginning to stand on end in anger. She walked up closer to Roland from behind the kitchen island with a mighty scowl on her face. “I’m not coming back tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or ever again.”

A small smirk grew on Roland’s face. “Defiance will get you nothing but trouble, dollface. And really, what reason do you have to be that way anyway? I haven’t done anything harmful to you.”

“You stole Cid’s Parlor from her!” Hannah exclaimed, nearly slamming her fist on the counter.

“So?” Roland bluntly responded. “How does that hurt you, exactly? You’ve still got your job. Your home. I’ve even helped clean up this place a bit for you.” He snapped his fingers again, and the armored men returned to carry out another one of the crates from the room. “There, I just did it again. You’re welcome.”

Hannah shook her head, the scowl still firmly in place. “I don’t care. I know how people like you work. You’re not the first crime boss I’ve encountered, and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

“Living here on Ord Mantell?” Roland said with a scoff. “That’s for certain.”

Hannah took a few steps closer, now standing directly in front of Roland from behind the counter. Her tone was laden with malice as she spoke. “You can try to sweet talk me all you want, but it won’t make a difference. I work for Cid, not you.”

Once again, Roland snickered behind his fanged grin. “Quite the loyal employee, aren’t you? A good quality to have.” He took Ruby off of his lap and placed her on the counter between himself and Hannah. The little lizard creature looked up at Hannah and growled before snuggling up to Roland’s hand. “You’re better off putting that tenacity of yours to good use down at the parlor than trying to intimidate me.”

Hannah’s hands came slamming down on the counter so hard, it spooked Ruby. “Quit messing with me, Roland! I already told you, I’m not coming back! I don’t care what you do; take my whole apartment away if you want, I don’t care! I’d rather live on the streets than work for someone like you.”

The entire time Hannah was yelling, Roland’s expression remained calm. If anything, he seemed entertained by her outburst, with the small smirk returning to his face again. Once Hannah had finished, Roland chuckled to himself and began petting Ruby to calm her down.

“I wonder if Cid feels the same way,” he slyly responded. “I wonder if that’s why she’s stuck around.” He looked Hannah directly in the face, still smirking slightly. “I wonder... how things might change if she suddenly wasn’t around anymore?”

The serious determination on Hannah’s face began to fade. Her eyes went wide with realization, and she began to slink back away from Roland.

“I’m really not asking for much, sweetheart,” Roland said, shaking his head. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be fine. Cid will be fine too. It’s that simple. Or, we could make things more difficult, if that’s what you really want.” He slid off the stool and came up beside her, almost uncomfortably close. Hannah could just feel the smirk spreading across his face. “I don’t know about you, but I much prefer when things aren’t so complicated.”

Hannah said nothing and just stood still, absorbing Roland’s words and practically shaking from the weight of it all. Roland left her side and told her to enjoy the rest of her day off as he headed for the door with Ruby still in his arms. He paused in the doorway briefly to turn back to Hannah and said, “See you bright and early tomorrow, dollface.”

And with that, he was finally gone. Hannah was left alone in her kitchen, still shaken by the entire experience. She felt like crying and throwing up at the same time. With shaky hands, she leaned over the counter, resting her head in her hands and breathing heavily, with small sobs gradually creeping out.

In the back of her mind, she could hear Cid’s voice berating her for being so foolish. She wasn’t worth the trouble, is what Cid would tell Hannah. Save yourself, she would absolutely say. But Hannah couldn’t do it. She wasn’t going to sacrifice Cid’s life just so she could avoid working for Roland. Even Irridas back at the Prism Palace hadn’t been that cruel.

If working for Roland is what would keep Cid safe, then she would do it, no questions asked.

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #would y'all believe that I wrote this over a YEAR ago??#well the first half of it anyway LOL #I wrote most of this story before ever finishing the og MLWTBB #cause that's just how my brain works haha #star warz #my storiez

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flymyhp · 3 years

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Birds to Spellbooks Pt. 3

Pairing: George Weasley x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: George and y/n spend the Yule Ball together, as friends. At first.

Words: 3,288

Warnings: Muggle song, yikes!! Same as last time, so much fluff it makes me sick. Enjoy!!

A/N: (Weird writing a character in who’s name is hannah when that’s my name) Sorry this has taken so long, ive been dealing with a lot. But here’s the last part! I made it a little longer than the first two as an apology.

Tags: @wintrrrsoldier

The day of the Yule Ball, y/n was lying in bed staring up at the yellow fabric above the bed. Every other Hufflepuff in her year had already left for breakfast. She couldn’t get her legs to move. Nerves upset her stomach and overcrowded her thoughts. Of course she’d been comfortable around George last night, but being dressed up had her worried that he wouldn’t see her the same as he did last night. She didn’t want him to think any less of her.

Breakfast would be half over by now and she knew people would be asking where she was. Since she was seen with George so often now people had finally stopped teasing her and actually apologized. She had a decent group of friends. That is except for a couple of Slytherins, and a few people from other houses. But it didn’t bother her too much and she now had people that would stick up for her instead of joining in.

George had met her after their classes apart and walked her to her next, and they’d spent the afternoons together. But today was different. She forced her legs to move and set off to her wardrobe to fetch her robes. She sighed and took out her dress she was sent by her parents. An off the shoulder, off white long party gown, with dark gold accents. It fit her well, but her stomach did flips as she looked at it. Would it be enough?

She put the dress back and grabbed her jumper. Straightening up her tie, she made her way to the great hall. The nerves in her stomach heightened when she saw him sitting at the Gryffindor table. They settled down a bit when she sat down with her friends.

“Y/n! Finally out of bed, are we?” Cedric Diggory exclaimed, offering her a plate. She took it with a kind smile and picked out a very small breakfast, she wasn’t sure if her stomach would allow her to eat. Cedric gave her a smile and nodded over to Cho.

“Aren’t you guys nervous?” Y/n started, picking her food apart with her fork.

“A little bit,” Hannah Abbott started. “I’m mostly just excited, didn't get much sleep last night. I was looking at my gown. I can’t believe we’re having a dance, I thought only muggles got those.” She kept looking over her shoulder at Seamus and giggling.

Y/n couldn’t turn around to look at George. She wasn’t sure if he even knew that she was here yet.

Just then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to face Ginny standing behind her, smirking. “For you.” She handed her a parcel, attached to it was a note.

Happy Holidays, bird! Decided to wait until the ball to see you, as is tradition. That’s a wedding tradition, but all the same, I didn’t want you to be worried that I don’t come around today so that’s why I sent this. I hope you like it. I’m excited to see you. You don’t have to write back or anything I just wanted to let you know.

All my love, Georgie.

Her cheeks lit up along with her smile. A little embarrassed, she took the wrapping off of the parcel. Inside she found a flower bud. She picked it up, a faint ringing noise came from it and it shook in her hand. It grew in her palm into a yellow rose.

“Isn’t it just so cute?” Ginny sat down next to her.

She held the rose in her hand, admiring it. It had also sprouted a pin on the back of it for her dress. Turning her head to find George, his face lit up when their eyes met. She smiled shyly at him and he winked at her.

Leaning in to make sure no one heard, Ginny began, “I shouldn’t spoil it, but apparently he has something else planned.” Y/n’s heart raced with the same feeling she got when he first asked her, thinking it was a joke.

“Like what?”

“Well, I didn’t hear all of it, but you won’t be spending the night in your dorm after the ball.” She raised her eyebrows at y/n. Y/n furrowed hers. “That’s all I know, it’ll be wonderful though. I’m going with Neville.”

With a breath of relief, breakfast was over. The rest of the day for Y/n and her friends was spent in the common room,

“This is going to be perfect!” Hannah clapped from outside the girls dorm, the girls were showing off their gowns for a before-the-ball get together. Y/n was the last to be changed. She wasn’t as nervous showing her friends as she was seeing George. She opened the door, Hannah and Susan Bones turned to face her. Hannah’s hands went to her mouth and she bounced up and down on her toes, Susan gasped.

“That’s absolutely gorgeous! That must’ve cost loads!” Susan gushed, feeling the fabric in admiration.

Y/n looked down. “It’s a hand-me-down. My mother’s.”

“It’s perfect. George won’t be able to stand when he sees you.” Hannah said, a proud smile on her face.

The three linked arms and strutted their way to the common room. The boys began clapping and howling at them jokingly. The girls laughed and unlinked their arms, striking poses.

“Lucky guys, those three are.” Cedric admitted, chuckling and offering them sparkling water.

The next hour was spent joking around and dancing to music in preparation for the night. With only an hour left, the girls went back to their dorms to do their hair and makeup.

They all went with a very natural makeup look. Hannah put her hair half up half down, Susan tied hers in a bun with a braid. Y/n let the girls do her hair.

“I’m thinking curls, Susan?” Hannah started. Susan agreed. Y/n prepared herself for whatever they decided looked best. After a long 20 minutes, “Ta-da!” y/n was able to turn herself towards the mirror and look.

Her hair was curled, the sides pinned in the back with a diamond pin. The last thing y/n had to do was put her rose on her dress. She smiled looking down at it.

The girls didn’t want to be late, so they rushed toward the common room where the guys were waiting to head to the great hall. They all set off in a group. Y/n’s nerves settled in her stomach as they drew nearer. Turning the final corner where everyone was entering, Cedric nodded towards them and joined Cho. Susan also set off to the dance to find Seamus. Hannah and Y/n, with their arms linked, began down the staircase.

Fred and George were standing with Angelina, who mid-laugh caught y/n’s eye and nudged George with her elbow and nodded up to her. Y/n’s heart raced in her chest, she focused on the steps and Hannah’s arm steadying her.

“Confidence.” Hannah whispered to her. She watched as George turned to face the stairs and looked up at her, his mouth hung open slightly.

Fred laughed at George’s expression, but George couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “Gorgeous.” She couldn’t hear his whisper. She did her best to keep her eyes off of him, she didn’t want to fall. Or him see how red her cheeks were.

Chin held high as Hannah told her, they stopped at the last step right above the twins and Angelina. George offered his hand to y/n, she bowed slightly and turned her head to Hannah. “Don’t have too much fun.” Hannah said with a wink and went to find Seamus.

Y/n took George’s hand, who kissed it and helped her down the last step. He put his hands on her waist and looked over her face. “Hello, beautiful.”

“Hello.” She said shyly. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered looking at him. “I like your outfit, Georgie.” She took in his gold vest that he matched with Fred.

“Thank you, darling. But I must say, it doesn’t compare to you.” His hand found his rose on her dress and he smiled. “Do you like it? The yellow is for friendship, did you know?”

“It’s beautiful. I didn’t know, but it fits, considering we haven’t made anything official.” She looked down at it.

He unpinned it from her dress. “I know, but I figured tonight would be a good transition.”

She furrowed her eyebrows slightly at his words. “To what?”

He held it in his hands and smiled. “You should know, at least since last night by the lake.” He waited to see the look on her face. Her eyes lit up slightly, her chest rose faster and she smiled. He covered the rose in his hands, and opened them back up. The rose was a deep red now.

“George-”

“I’m sure you know, a red rose symbolizes love.” He held the rose in his hand. “But I should ask you formally.” Her eyes grew wider, she didn’t know what to do with herself. She knew at this point that George Weasley loved her. He’d never said it verbally but she knew. “Y/n. Will you be my girlfriend? Officially.”

She nodded before she could get any words out. “Oh George, you know I will.” He pinned the rose back on her dress and cupped her face in his hands, bringing her into a kiss.

When they pulled back, he held his arm out for her to take. They entered the great hall together, where everyone was awaiting the champions and their partners. They stood next to Fred and Angelina.

“You look beautiful, y/n” Angelina leaned over to tell her through the noise of everyone talking.

“Thank you! You look gorgeous as well.” She gave her a bright smile.

“Finally did it, huh George?” Fred threw at his brother.

George knocked his shoulder to Freds. “Been waiting a long time, couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” He replied.

Y/n smiled to herself at their conversation.

Soft music played over the crowd of students as the champions entered with their partners, arm in arm. Shouts and claps towards the champions grew louder than the music. They were the first to dance as tradition. Harry was the only one who seemed slightly out of place. Y/n felt bad for him, being only fourteen and having his name pulled from the goblet of fire. She knew from the very beginning he didn’t put it in, just based on how he acted when it happened.

The champions danced first, other couples joined in once some of the professors began dancing.

“May I have this dance, love?” George asked, offering his hand again.

“Always.” She replied, taking his hand.

He led her closer to the side of the floor. They’d been taught the dance so they didn’t have to worry about not being able to. George had his hand on her waist as they were supposed to, only he was holding her tighter and closer to him than recommended. He couldn’t help it, he wanted her as close to him as possible now that they were together. She didn’t mind in the slightest, she enjoyed it.

He spinned her and watched her skirt and hair twirl with her, her smile made his heart leap. Lifting her into the air in sync with everyone else, she laughed. Everything was perfect.

The dance ended and they were left to get drinks or food if they wished, or keep dancing.

“I need something to drink, and then we can continue.” Y/n started off towards the tables and George caught up to her and grabbed her hand to walk with her.

They met Harry and Ron with their dates, looking dreadful.

“Aren’t you two going to dance?” Y/n asked them, her hand wrapped tightly around George’s arm.

Harry looked up at her and then to Ron. Ron shook his head.

“C’mon Ronnie, won't you waltz with me?” George pretended to dance to pick on his little brother. He laughed and y/n pulled on his arm.

Ron looked threateningly at his brother. “Piss off.”

“Sorry guys, I’ll see you later on.” She gently shoved George off in the direction of the drinks. She leant down slightly to them. “Loosen up guys, it’s a dance. Don’t leave the girls hanging.” She winked to the four of them and started off towards George as the three-excluding ron-gave her a small smile.

George was standing with Fred as she approached the two of them. He had a cup of water in his hand and a cup of what looked like blue fruit punch in the other, but who knew at Hogwarts.

“I didn’t know which you’d prefer, so I got you both, I’ll drink whichever you don’t.” He held out the two cups.

“If I don’t like the blue one can I have the water? If you don’t mind drinking after me.” She asked.

“Not at all, here, love.” He handed the drink to her.

It tasted like raspberries and blueberries, it sparkled under the bright lights. “ It’s wonderful, have you tried it?”

She handed it to him and he tried it, he decided he’d throw the water away and get more punch.

“Where’s Angelina?” Y/n asked Fred.

“Gone to the bathroom, should be out soon.” He responded.

George took a sip of his drink and wrapped an arm around y/n’s waist. “They’re not actually dating, just friends.”

Y/n stuck out her bottom lip. “Shame, they’re cute together. But I guess we did come as friends to begin with.”

“And we’re definitely cute together.” He chuckled. Angelina came back and the two of them decided to sit for a couple of minutes after the four of them chatted a bit more. “Ready?” George asked y/n.

“Away we go, prince charming.” She laughed and the two of them walked back to the center of the hall to dance. As they got there though, Baby I’m Yours by Arctic Monkeys began playing.

It wasn’t as slow as some of the others, but George held her and spinned her nonetheless. Strangely, he knew every word. Even stranger, he could sing, and he sang to her as he held her close and kissed her.

“I’ve said this before, but I don’t want this to end, Georgie.” She mumbled into his chest, his hands wrapped tightly around her waist.

He kissed the top of her head before replying. “I don’t either, bird. And I’ve said this before, but things will be better now. This won’t be the last time I dance with you, and it won’t be the last night we spend together. I’m sure Ginny’s already told you, but we aren’t going back to the dorms, me and you.”

“Is it a surprise, or can I know now?” She lifted her head up to look at him.

He kissed her and replied, “Surprise.”

She smiled and grabbed his hands as they swayed. He lifted his arm and spun her once more. The night went on and they continued to dance, barely stopping. When most everyone had cleared out they were in the back still swaying to the last slow songs.

“I don’t want to be kicked out, so I think we should go.” George started, that wasn’t the biggest reason though. He was mostly excited for the rest of the night.

They led themselves out of the great hall, they didn’t want to leave but George firmly believed that their next destination would be even better.

He helped her up the staircases, leading her to what looked like the highest point of the castle. Thankfully, the staff was still in the great hall supervising the remaining students.

“The astronomy tower?” She gazed at the view as they made it up to the very top.

“You can see the lake from here, too. I saw how you looked out into it.” He told her, leading her to the edge.

Her eyes couldn’t decide what to focus on, they landed up at the stars. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

He watched her as she watched the sky, admiring every feature she possessed. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

“That makes two of us.” Her hand on her chin, she gave him a grin. They stood like that for a little while longer until she broke the silence. “George?”

He didn’t care that she knew he was staring at her, he felt comfortable around her. “Love?”

“I’d like that confession now.”

Finally, his head hung slightly and his cheeks glowed in the moonlight. His hair covered his eyes slightly, so she moved it from his face and brought his chin up to look at her.

“I was hoping you’d want to hear it, I’ve been dying keeping it from you.” He began. “For years, and especially recently, thoughts of you play in my head. Over and over, from holding you, to kissing you, to nights like these. I’ve beat myself up over you for so long and now I have you. It’s hard to wrap my head around.” Her eyes got lost in his and his voice. “I’ve never felt like this. And I believe you’re the only person I’ll ever feel this way about. I don’t care that we’re seventeen, we’re young and stupid, but you’re my person. I pray you always will be. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you, and to keep you safe and happy. You do enough to make me happy just by smiling. It lights every part of me up and my heart can’t take it. This past month, you’ve been everything to me, you’ve kept my world turning and you always will, darling.” He paused for a moment. “And,” His hand went to his pocket. “I have something else for you.”

She was, once again, rendered speechless. She couldn’t find the words to say.

Out of his pocket, he pulled a necklace. A copper chain with a ‘G’ charm.

“It’s not exactly a promise ring, but we can call it a promise necklace.” He held it in his hand in front of her. “I hope it’s not too soon. I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you smile. Even if it wasn’t because of me. I hope from now on it will be.”

All she could do was look from the necklace to him. Once she took everything in, she reached up to his face and kissed him, with everything she had she poured her heart into it as he had just done.

“You are everything to me in this moment, George, since last night, you’re the only thing I’ve wanted. You’re right, darling, you were right last night. Things will be better. On my darkest days, you’ll be my light. On the best days it will be because of you. It’s soon for all of this, of course. It’s sudden, but that’s why it’s called falling. I fell in love with you last night, George. When I smile, it’s because of you.” She picked the necklace up from his palm, and looked at the ‘G’.

He moved her hair out of the way and hooked the chain around her neck.

“Even better.” He smiled at her. “I can’t wait for the rest of my life, as long as you’re in it.”

She agreed, grabbing his hands and putting them around her and placed her head on his chest with tears in her eyes. Now she knew what above the bare minimum was, George had set the bar higher than she knew to be possible. He’d never settle for anything less and neither would she.

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #hp #hp imagine #weasley twins #fred and george #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x you #hufflepuff #gryffindor #yule ball #gred and forge

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

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The Story, Ch. 4

Previously on The Story

The sun finally disappeared for the first time in weeks. Defiantly it tried to shine through the thin layer of clouds that blew in from the northeast, burning them off, or at least doing its best. The air had a stiff breeze to it, pushing around the oppressive humidity, as if it could help, when really it just smeared it into the wound.

Dani stood in the kitchen and sipped a glass of water in the quiet that seemed to come after lunch had dispersed. Off to their own devices, the children could be heard occasionally, playing or arguing or running with heavy feet down the halls.

For just a moment, Dani allowed herself one instant to look out at the clouds and wonder if this was some kind of religion, the unrelenting hope and belief in the inevitable, the near satisfaction of it actually happening, the eager waiting, the small sample of euphoria, the fulfilment of a promise. There was a mild intoxication in the lust of it, the build up.

Longingly, Dani leaned against the lip of the sink and followed the heaviness of the clouds as they moved along, teasing and taunting, plump with rain for another city or ocean or country.

From across the way, she watched the gardener emerge from behind the old, ivy-laced wall, and for some reason she sunk a little deeper into her relaxed pose. She took a larger gulp from her glass.

The well-worn overalls hung on one strap, the leg on one side rolled up a little bit, while the shirt beneath had been cut up to accommodate the season, the holes for the arm dipping low enough to expose ribs, and high enough to show that line of deltoid. All too suddenly, Jamie dropped her supplies she’d been carrying and began digging through them.

It did nothing to wake Dani from the dream she’d been having, nor did it do anything to untangle itself from the sudden fervor the au pair suddenly had for rain. Instead, the fanaticism for the passing clouds was applied to the streak of sweat down Jamie’s arm, cutting through the dirt there and dripping off at a pointed elbow.

She wasn’t tall, she wasn’t large or imposing, but Jamie had a sense of space and she took it up with her confidence. Dani liked to watch her move because she moved with purpose. The cut in her arm, in her bicep, it existed for a reason. The litheness, the wallowness of her bones and curves, they were a result of bending and reaching and stretching, of molding and making and living.

Somewhat aware of the unabashed lurking, Dani looked around the kitchen, straining for noises or footsteps or anyone, really, to catch her in the act. That was how she knew it wasn’t right, though she wasn’t sure how.

There was a moment that Dani leaned forward, a little closer to the window, clutched her glass a little tighter in her hands. She watched as Jamie began reaching up toward the top of the wall, tying back some of the vines.

Similar to the buzzing, vibrating, humming feeling she remembered from the pond, that twisting and warmth deep in her stomach, the lightness and tightness, all at once in her chest, Dani felt it all again gradually descend upon her. She did everything to avoid looking at Jamie at the lake, and she thought she had, but still, she remembered the shape of her belly button and the notch of her spine, the dip in her shoulders and the mold of her knees.

Now, too, Dani found herself remembering it all in flashes that made it difficult to breathe, in a way that made her thirst for rain.

A crash from upstairs pulled the au pair from her indoctrination quickly. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the noise before going off in search of whatever maybe the children could have caused this time.

XXXXXXXXXX

With an upward glance, the gardener wiped the sweat on her chest and her forehead as the afternoon waned toward evening despite the consistent heat that sizzled. All was quiet around, the children in the house or on the other side of the grounds, the bugs sick of humming and buzzing for the day, taking off early to find some rest.

Prepared to wrap up for the day, Jamie surveyed the work of the day, the trellis repair and the trimming back of overzealous summer buds. It was hard but honest work and she enjoyed that moment of accomplishment.

Once more, she looked around to assure herself that not tiny eyes would catch her in the act, or worse yet, that Hannah wouldn’t catch her again, and she dug a cigarette out of the pack in her pocket. With a little less motivation that her previous day, Jamie gathered her tools and wondered how to stick around without sticking around, or rather, how to say good night to the au pair.

For the past few days, Jamie had been nearly floating on the memories of the pond swim that kept them up and talking until nearly sunrise. She dissected every moment of her time with Dani, hoping to figure something out, but never could come to any concrete answers. The au pair was far too elusive and perhaps unwilling to give enough to jump to any conclusions. But all the same, the gardener enjoyed spending time with her, and she couldn’t remember the last time she simply enjoyed existing. It was too hard to talk to most people; she tripped over her word and thoughts and ended up quietly listening and not listening.

Now, she knew what Dani’s favorite smell was.

But there was really no reason for anything else for her inside the house other than to say her goodnight and be on her way. Still, she mulled and smoked, circling her tools before looking back towards the front door.

Like a streak, the newly familiar blonde appeared, zipping through the door, and around the corner, disappeared in an instant, too fast on her own feet for any good. But there was more power and speed to this movement than before, and Jamie rubbed out her cigarette before grabbing her tools and deciding on taking the long way back around.

The shape of the au pair appeared on the other side of a planter, half hunkered, back expanding quickly as she tried to find a way to breathe. Jamie slowed her walk so as not to fully interrupt something like that. It felt like waking a sleep walker, and she’d always been inclined to believe in the magic of it. Dani’s shoulders shook slightly as she tried to straighten her spine. She curled up slightly before forcing herself back up again. As harrowing as it was, Jamie cleared her throat and jostled the bucket in her hand, making the au pair jump slightly at the intrusion. It was a clumsy way to wake someone, but she didn’t know of another. The gasping breaths seized immediately, but the face didn’t turn to look at her.

The gravel crunched beneath the bucket as she placed it and her tools on the ground, a peace offering, an armistice line.

“So, uh,” the gardener squinted toward the sun and shoved her hands in her back pocket. “What did the little monsters do?”

“No, it’s… um--”

“I know it’s frowned upon, to wallop a child, but I’m not one to rely on my reputation. A bit more tarnish couldn’t hurt it.”

Dani didn’t move, just kept looking straight away, unwilling to do anything but hold her breath. Defeated, Jamie kicked at the gravel slightly, swinging her leg and puffing out her cheeks as she searched for something in the deepest parts of her brain to earn a sound or look from the au pair.

“Plants are much easier. I find it’s not as taboo to murder a gaggle of heliotropes for not behaving. My discipline is harsh, I bet. But if you need some child rearing advice, I’m around.”

As much as she hadn’t meant to, Dani laughed, a relieved, genuine chuckle at the absurdity of the gardener, and Jamie inhaled it too quickly.

“There we are,” she smiled to herself, victorious as all. “It’s not so bad. You’re hardly the first. I’ve cried… goodness, daily. Hourly, even, since working here. Helps to keep the evergreens so effervescent. If you’ve ever marvelled at my lustrous plentitude, I promise it’s from my own deep, deep well of inconsolable tears.”

The au pair finally turned, much of her body still hidden behind the planter, but her eyes, the red-rimmed and puffy eyes glittered in the haze of the summer. Jamie swallowed slightly at the site and offered a smaller smile. Dani smiled at her, somewhere between relieved and burdened, unable to decide which was worse.

“You’re doing great,” Jamie offered quickly, her feet betraying her and taking a step forward, naturally drawn to fix the problem. “You’re doing great.”

“Thank you,” Dani nodded before looking away to wipe her eyes.

“Alright,” she took a deep breath before picking up her tools. “Chin up, Poppins.”

The best she had, the girl effectively returned to something short of sad, Jamie decided it was time for the quickest escape imaginable, and though she controlled her steps, she refused to turn around.

XXXXXXXXX

The garden on the eastern side of the house was a continual work in progress. The gardener spent a portion of nearly every part of her day working on the roses and bushes, tenderly turning the area into a perfect oasis of blooming buds. It was her favorite part of the entire manor and grounds, it was her oasis. The tall brick wall was flanked by even taller pines, casting heavy branches like a ceiling over the edges.

To say that there was an absolute explosion when the garden was massacred, would have been an outright lie. It was apocalyptic. The nanny wasn’t sure she’d ever seen someone who was simultaneously full of loss and wrath, but Jamie stood there, shaking, vibrating with a kind of rage that surpassed any kind of mortal feelings. At first, Dani was certain it was going to be quiet, that Jamie was swallowing it completely. But it wasn’t quiet. She marched across the garden, fist full of decapitated roses, petals in her wake, and began yelling.

It took ten minutes before she tired herself out and Dani was able to calm her down. It took a few more hours for her to round up the culprits.

“How are they doing?” Dani called as she helped direct the clean up efforts across the garden.

“Looks alright to me,” Jamie nodded. “Don’t forget the mulch.”

“Got it,” she smiled, helping Flora pick a few things.

Even though she wanted to be mad, Jamie struggled with the fact that Dani looked very cute with a scuff of dirt across her forehead. She didn’t enjoy that her anger was so quickly quelled by a pretty girl. That didn’t seem fair. She should be able to hold onto all of that rage for a little while longer, in her own opinion, not lose it because a girl smiled at her.

“She’s really putting them through their paces,” Hannah observed over the rim of her glass. “They should be playing.”

“Have to learn about consequences,” Jamie shrugged. “A little hard labor is good for a growing kid.”

“She’s tough on them. But maybe you’re right. They can be a little bit of a handful from time to time.”

“You should know better than anyone. You clean up after them all day. Owen cooks for them. I make sure they don’t get lost in the woods. They need a little bit of structure.”

“They’re working hard. I just want them to play,” Hannah sighed and swirled her drink around against the heat.

Jamie put her foot up on the edge of the chair and dug in her shirt pocket to pull out the pack of cigarettes. She let her eyes slowly drift back to the nanny who stood, hands on her hips as she looked down at the pile of debris the kids accumulated. She gave some orders, directing them around the yard.

“What did I miss?” Owen asked as he took a seat between the two women. “How are the delinquents doing?”

“They’re doing well,” Hannah smiled.

“Hannah wants them to frolick and return to the glens, unfettered by their impetuous choices, free to roam the world causing chaos.”

Owen gave the housekeeper a look who just shrugged, not bothering to admit that it was almost the truth.

“I don’t think that’s much of an option with the warden overseeing their parole.”

Jamie chuckled and drifted back to the au pair. She didn’t catch Dani’s eyes, nor did she even earn a passing thought. But they were friends, she would venture. They were people who occasionally chatted in the evening, and they were people who had coffee every morning together in the green house, even if it tasted terrible. She drank it all anyway dutifully if it meant ten uninterrupted minutes with the au pair, though she’d never admit it.

“What’s that?” she murmured, snuffing out the cigarette butt and looking over as Owen topped off her drink, missing half of their conversation already.

“What do you think of the American?”

“She’s wonderful with the kids. I think she’s doing a splendid job.”

“Bit private isn’t she?”

“You must have talked with her a bit more,” Hannah pressed. “I’ve seen you two skulking about, lingering in hallways, giggling.”

“You make us sound like school girls, Hannah. Shame on you gossiping and such.”

“Curious about the other person who lives in the same building is all. What do you think of her?”

Jamie looked once more, this time meeting Dani’s quick glance and gulping slightly. They held the look for longer than expected, and Jamie remembered the feeling of cold water and Dani’s smile as she held her nose and jumped into the pond. She remembered the smell of their skin in the back of her truck as they dried off in stiff old blankets and stared at the stars, the grass and the water leaving the earth behind on their joints.

“A touch too pretty to be a nanny, I reckon.”

“Owen?”

“Oh, I um, I don’t know that I’ve thought of her, erhm, that way,” he cleared his throat and eagerly drank from his glass as Jamie turned it around to him.

“You’ve seemed to have made your mind up about her,” Hannah decided, reading Jamie’s face and the little bit of pink in her cheeks. “And you never do that.”

“Jury’s still out. I give her another month before she’s running for the hills from those little brats and this bloody place.”

“I don’t know. I think she’s taken to it.”

“Can’t count on someone like her to stick.”

“Why’s that?” the housekeeper prodded, noticing another quick glance between the gardener and the au pair.

“She’s too good,” Jamie explained, neither sad, neither conflicted, neither happy at the news, but merely presenting a fact. “Too alive to wallow away at Bly Manor.”

“It’s not like that’s what we’re doing,” Owen scoffed. “We’re young and hot.”

“Speak for yourself, darling.”

Jamie didn’t argue, but looked down at the slow drip of condensation on her glass and felt the sinking deja vu feeling that haunted her from time to time. They were all running from something, hiding behind the walls of the manor, only they didn’t see it that way. Jamie wasn’t running anymore, but she’d been defeated and relegated to such, she thought. Dani wasn’t there yet.

“She is full of life,” Hannah nodded, almost quietly. “It’s oddly contagious, if that’s the right word for it.”

“Something like that,” Jamie agreed, wiping away the moisture on her cup on the edge of her pants before taking another sip.

“Is your brother still coming next week? You should invite Dani with us to the show,” Owen decided for her.

“No way she’d want to go to some backwoods hoot and holler that my mangy brother is doing,” Jamie scoffed this time, shaking her head at the notion.

“I think it’s high time she saw some Bly culture up close and personal.”

“She does need to get out, love. You know how tiring it is to live here non-stop,” Hannah agreed. “Invite her. Take the pretty girl dancing.”

“I didn’t mean pretty like-- I was just observing--” the gardener stopped trying to find the word because it wasn’t coming and Hannah had given her the look that said it was hopeless. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to come.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Dani! Dani!” Owen began to call out, waving his hand until Jamie made him stop, prepared to threaten him within an inch of his own life.

“I’ll ask her tomorrow,” Jamie promised, hissing the words. “I’ve got to go,” she stood up abruptly. “And see about the… there was that squeaky hinge in the pantry.”

Before Dani could make it over, the gardener was off, retreating and not looking back over her shoulder once at the scene. Hannah just smiled at Owen and wiggled her eyebrows.

“I told you. That’s five quid.”

“She never said she liked her,” he taunted back.

“You must not be fluent in Jamie, but if you were, you’d know that ‘squeaky hinges’ was code for ‘help, the pretty blonde American is coming over and I don’t know how to be a human and speak with her because she’s so pretty’,” Hannah explained.

“I’ll pay up if she invites her,” he retorted. “And not a moment sooner. I have my doubts about this flirting you allegedly have seen.”

“You’re blind, love.”

“Just blinded by you.”

“Oh, shush,” the housekeeper fluttered away the comment with a wave of her hand though she smiled to herself. “Jamie is smitten, and you know I’m right.”

“But is Dani?”

“The five quid question, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm,” they both hummed together as they watched the gardener disappear completely into the house.

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merflk · 4 years

Text

if your cascade, ocean wave blues come.

main pairing: ginny weasley x blaise zabini background pairings: neville longbottom x astoria greengrass, percy weasley x pansy parkinson, oliver wood x marcus flint words: 6021 link: ao3 soundtrack: peace - taylor swift

Every wedding she’s attended since the war reminds her of Bill and Fleur’s.

She can’t help it. No matter the venue, or the people getting married, or the guests attending, every single time she’s pulled back into that tent in her parents’ backyard.

It was bad the first few times. The war sparked a lot of tragedy, but the war ending made people feel like taking the leap together. In the past seven years, she’s been to thirteen weddings total. The first time, it was like she was transported back into the war in the middle of the ceremony. She had a quiet panic attack that no one noticed and, eventually, got home absolutely plastered. After that happened a second time, she realised that it was a wedding thing. So for a little bit she attended none.

That didn’t last very long. Hard to get to wedding number fourteen otherwise.

The thing that saved her was her camera. As it turned out, taking pictures was a ton of fun, and she was kind of good at it. At first, it was because she ignored every single ‘rule’ photography had. She paid next to no attention to classic perspective and lighting. She just went ahead and snapped. People said it was artistic. That made her feel a little proud, so she kept taking them.

At some point, the camera became an extension of herself. And she became a photographer.

Now, wedding photography is like a little treat. She only does it for friends and family, not as an actual career choice, choosing to stick to other subjects for that. When Neville asked if she would take the pictures for his wedding to Astoria, she agreed to it immediately. They’re having a spring wedding, full of flowers and sunshine, and now that she’s standing here, looking around, she feels free from Bill and Fleur’s wedding for the first time.

Ginny smiles and snaps a picture of Harry, Ron and Hermione, who are laughing loudly near the buffet. The wedding is outside, in the large garden of the Greengrass estate. As far as Ginny knows, it took a lot of convincing to get Astoria’s parents on board with her marrying Neville, but with the help of her sister Daphne (who was a grade A politician) they had managed to figure something out.

The gardens are huge, and the wedding is smack in the middle of them, so the house seems pretty far away from here. Even so, she can still make out its luxurious white exterior. Neville is marrying into big money. But…

Ginny glances over at Neville and Astoria, who are quietly dancing in the middle of the dance floor, their foreheads pressed together. The hem of Astoria’s dress is slightly smudged with mud, and she has three flowers in her hair. It’s like they’re their own little sun with the amount of love and happiness radiating from them. The other dancing couples orbit them, basking in their light.

She takes a picture.

Even if Astoria’s parents never accepted Neville, even if they had disowned their daughter like they’d originally threatened to do, neither of them would have wavered. They would have had a tiny wedding somewhere in a forest, and Ginny would have taken the exact same picture there.

Damn, love is kind of beautiful.

Thinking of Neville and Astoria as the sun puts the wedding in a different light, though. Ginny looks around carefully, looking at the way that groups of people move together through the space. Although this wedding is one between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, that mixing of houses doesn’t extend to the party guests. Now that she’s looking for it, Ginny notices the way that there are clusters of isolated guests spread out. A couple of former Slytherins here, a few former Gryffindors there. There are two or three places where the houses meet, and of course there are people of all houses here. Hannah Abbott is chatting with Romilda Vane. Padma Patil is having a very playful conversation with George. Pansy Parkinson says something to Percy as she steals his glass of champagne right from his hands. But, afterwards, they move towards their own group of people – Percy to Fred and Angelina, Pansy to Daphne and Blaise Zabini.

When Ginny follows her with her gaze, her eyes land on Zabini for a moment, and she catches him looking back at her. Perhaps it would be more fair to say that he catches her looking at him. As a reflex, finding the perfect excuse, Ginny lifts up her camera and takes a picture of the three of them from a distance.

When she looks at the screen briefly to check the photo, she notices that Blaise is smiling in it, looking straight into the camera. He looks so good that she wonders if that was his reflex – put on the model face. He probably has modelled for something or other, right? She thinks she heard that rumour somewhere at some point. That his parents live in Italy and he’s done some modelling there after the war. No, wait – just his mom. She’s notoriously remarried a bunch of times. Lady Zabini is a bad bitch.

“Did it come out well?”

Ginny jumps and almost drops her camera, like she’s been caught red-handed doing something embarrassing.

When she looks up, Blaise Zabini is right in front of her, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his perfectly-tailored suit and a smile on his face that tells her he knows exactly why she just almost jumped out of her skin.

Get it together, Ginny, she scolds herself. You’re the wedding photographer, for Merlin’s sake. You’re just doing your job. He can’t prove anything.

“Yeah, I got a good one,” she says with a polite smile, “Astoria expressly asked me to take some extra pictures of the friends and family today. I think she’s making an album.”

Blaise snorts, and his smile softens for a moment. “Sounds like her.”

His response piques her curiosity a little bit. “Are you close with the family?”

“I suppose.” He smiles at her, something sly that makes her feel like they’re sharing a secret. “We’re all pretty tight-knit.”

Ah. So he’s aware of it too, hm?

“I can tell.” Ginny looks around again. “People stick together.”

Blaise sighs. “People are obsessed with the comfort zone.” He scrutinises her face for a moment, and Ginny has to think of ice water to keep from getting flustered. This man has a very intense gaze.

Shark eyes, she thinks to herself.

“Not you, though, aren’t you?”

It’s supposed to be a compliment, she thinks, but it feels undeserved. “I’m not so sure,” she tells him honestly, “If that was really the case, maybe I wouldn’t be standing behind a screen the entire time.” She holds up her camera.

Blaise hums softly, a deep, warm sound. Unexpectedly, Ginny feels something inside of her light up.

“But you’re brave,” he presses, “With that, uh… Gryffindor spunk?”

She laughs, and he smiles like that was what he was angling for in the first place.

“I guess. At least I can be honest about it. Not sure if that’s the Gryffindor spunk, but well.”

“So maybe it’s the Weasley?”

She arches an eyebrow at him. “I’d like to think it’s the Ginny.”

He tilts his head. “Fair enough. It’s admirable, in any case.” He grins. “And kind of sexy.”

She laughs again, the flame inside of her glowing brighter. She wonders if that’s how love works – if a sun like Neville and Astoria makes all the other stars brighter too. Maybe she’s getting swept up in the atmosphere. But…

She looks over Blaise curiously. “Smooth,” she teases.

He’s still smiling at her, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I tend to speak my mind.”

“I like that.”

“Good. Can I get you something to drink?”

She can’t help but laugh again. She likes how obvious he’s being about it. It’s bold.

“Sure,” she says, “But no alcohol. I’m on the job.”

“Ah, yes,” he grins, “We can’t have you distracted now, can we, miss Weasley?”

“Thank Merlin I have an iron will.”

He chuckles. “We’ll see about that.”

She stares straight back at him, issuing a challenge. “Don’t tempt me.”

***

The next wedding sucks.

And, no, it’s not because things didn’t work out between Blaise and her. That has nothing to do with it. It’s fine. She’s fine.

It’s not even like it lasted very long. They dated for three months, then were together for eight. That’s less than a year. Nothing to write home about.

Of course, that had been one of the biggest issues: home. She hadn’t expected her parents to be so against her dating Blaise. He continuously made a bad impression on them. It was in the way he talked, the way he walked, the things he did, the things he said… Blaise and her family just didn’t match.

She didn’t do much better with his family. Lady Zabini is an incredible woman in her own right, but she definitely can’t stand Ginny’s attitude.

But that should have been fine. If it were real, they could have worked around it. Instead, they just fell apart.

Maybe we don’t want the same things in life, was their conclusion, maybe we’re too different.

Now, almost a full year later, she can admit that maybe they are too similar. Both too stubborn for their own good. Both too fucking scared of all of it. The real commitment, the intimacy, the vulnerability. Maybe it wasn’t that it didn’t work, it was just that they weren’t…

They weren’t ready.

But how the fuck were they supposed to know that?

It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work out. It happens. It’s fine.

Ginny lifts up her camera and takes a picture of her parents, the biggest traitors in history, who are laughing and chatting with Pansy in her gorgeous white dress. Pansy managed to do what Blaise couldn’t: she completely won over the Weasleys, despite her Slytherin heritage.

It probably had something to do with Percy’s attitude as well. Percy saw the way her parents treated Blaise, and when he started dating Pansy he wouldn’t stand for that kind of behaviour. He refused to talk to them until they gave her a fair chance. Ginny remembers a family dinner which ended in a very uncomfortable screaming match. When it came down to it, Percy had screamed that it didn’t fucking matter whether Pansy was a bitch or not. She was his. And if they could accept him for who he was, they very well could except the girl he loved as well. And that was that.

That night, Ginny kept her mouth shut. She regrets that more than anything. But maybe the fact that her parents didn’t like Blaise was just the perfect excuse not to bring him home to them. Not to let him get that close.

Frustrated, Ginny grabs one of the nearby waiters and downs a flute of champagne. These days, she kinds of hates herself.

She can forgive herself for the shitshow that was her relationship with Blaise Zabini. She can forgive herself for her mistakes. She can even be proud of what she’s learned from the whole experience. She knows more about who she is and what she wants now than ever before.

She just can’t stand that she’s still so fucking sad about it.

She locks eyes with Blaise over the rim of her empty champagne flute and for a moment the world stops turning. They look at each other. He arches one of his perfect eyebrows, and she remembers the moment she told him that she doesn’t drink on the job like it happened three minutes ago. She flushes in shame.

But fuck him, honestly.

She represses the urge to flip him off, hopes she conveys the emotion with her gaze, and walks the fuck away.

She absolutely hates that they now move in the same circles more than they did before. Since Pansy and Percy got engaged, every party she’s been to has seen a number of Slytherins that she would have never been able to predict hanging out with. Moreover, they’re great. They’re fun. People are falling in love all over the place. It’s kind of beautiful. But it would be so nice to just not see Blaise for a little while.

He knows her better than she would like, so she knows he’s aware that she hasn’t been doing great since their break-up. Sure, she’s been going to therapy, which was about fucking time, and that’s been very helpful, and she’s been learning a lot about herself, but it’s all been so exhausting and it shows. It shows on her face, it shows in her art, it shows in the state of her relationships. She’s lost a bunch of friends rather suddenly, but she’s kept the important ones close-by (Luna has been an actual saint) and she thinks that’s fine for now. Weirdly, she’s grown pretty close to Percy through it all.

He’s a little bitch, of course, and doesn’t let her get away with anything, but he sticks around anyway. And that’s just how her brother is, she supposes. She’s pretty sure he’s really annoyed with her most of the time, but he’s there anyway. He picks her up for brunch. He responds to the memes she sends him. He lets her make one harsh comment about Blaise every few weeks, and if she tries to do more he tells her to stop deflecting and take some responsibility for her life. It stings, but it’s a sting she welcomes. She needs a Percy in her life.

Just one, though. That’s enough. And sometimes, she really needs a break.

She takes a picture of him now, standing with some of his friends near the back of the room. He has a good, solid smile on his face, one that makes him look like their dad, and he’s clearly enjoying himself. She’s happy for him. The ceremony went well. Pansy looks like a fucking dream. Everyone’s behaving themselves. She might actually be the biggest problem factor at the entire event, nursing her little grudges, and she feels like she’s done a decent job of keeping that under wraps.

She glances at Blaise again. He’s talking to a woman at the bar, and she hates him. She hates it. She hates this. She hates that she cares. The woman is gorgeous. Maybe she should walk over there and hit on her. That would be a double win – hot lady and sticking one to her ex.

She doesn’t like the bitterness of her own thoughts, and represses the itch to get more alcohol in her system. It’s her brother’s wedding. She’s not going to get smashed. He deserves better, and she’s definitely not going to give Blaise the satisfaction.

She points her camera at Percy again, but he’s already looking at her with a frown on his face, annoyance flashing across his features.

Ginny looks down in surprise, wondering if she spilled something on her dress or something, but she looks fine. Still, when she looks back up, Percy is stalking towards her.

He didn’t read her mind, did he? No. No, he can’t do that. He doesn’t have the… Can he do that?

“You’re doing that thing,” he accuses her when he reaches her.

“What thing? I have several things.”

They’ve done in depth analyses of all of them. Him, accusing her of being a brat. Her, impatiently explaining to him that some coping mechanisms and behavioural patterns aren’t pretty. All over a bottle of whiskey in the middle of the night.

She’d never imagined she would one day be the closest to Percy out of all of her brothers. But here they are.

Percy shoves his hands into his pockets. “The thing where you look like you’re trying to set someone on fire by sheer force of will.”

She is trying to set someone on fire by sheer force of will.

But she’s not going to admit that to him.

“Come on, you couldn’t pick out a look like that from all the way over there, that’s ridiculous. At most you saw me glaring a little bit.”

Percy doesn’t let up on his accusatory stare, so Ginny shows him the palms of her hands in defeat.

“Look, I’m trying, okay? I’m doing alright, aren’t I? I’m not bothering anyone. You’re the only one who picks up on these things. And you can’t tell me that you’re not having the time of your life. You’re practically glowing.”

He is. He looks healthier than he has in years. Pansy makes him wear fashionable glasses, and he has leaned into all the better aspects of himself since they got together. Now, having just married her, he looks proud and satisfied, like a cat in the sun.

“As you should, by the way.” Ginny nods her head in Pansy’s direction. “She looks like a dream.”

He follows her gaze. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Percy smiles like he has a secret. Ginny wants to shake him until he shares it. Instead, she focuses on how seeing him happy kind of makes her happy too.

She nudges him with her elbow. “I’m fine. I’m not setting anyone on fire. Go dance with Mrs Parkinson-Weasley over there.”

He looks back at her, but she can tell he’s already halfway to Pansy’s side. “Don’t set anyone on fire,” he warns her.

“Promise,” Ginny grins.

She doesn’t set anyone on fire after that. If she’s still thinking about it, no one else calls her out for it. She gets through the night, her brief chat with Percy fuelling her determination to be okay for him. This is not the time and place to wallow. Maybe the time for wallowing is pretty much over in general. Maybe it’s time for her to finally take the next step towards growth by letting go of some of this bitterness over that one failed relationship.

Perhaps she could meet someone new.

***

She probably would have been alright after that if it weren’t for Blaise motherfucking Zabini.

Initially, she’s off to a great start. By the end of Percy and Pansy’s wedding, she had taken one picture of Blaise, where he was smiling into the camera with his arm around Theo, and she’d given him a brief nod to let him know it turned out the way she knew he liked. He was nearly floored by the gesture, she’s pretty sure, but he nodded back. That was progress.

After that, it was almost like they could become friends. At the very least acquaintances. She had lost contact with most of their mutual friends at that point, but she ran into him when she wanted to show up for Percy. Percy had practically disappeared into Pansy’s friend group at that point. The only person he really stayed close with outside of them and his direct family was Oliver. Of course, it helped that Oliver and Marcus finally stopped bullshitting each other and admitted that their rivalry was perhaps more of a romantic-tension thing than anything else by that point.

But for Ginny it mostly meant that she spent a night every few weeks in the presence of Blaise and maybe six to ten other people. Pansy and Percy had moved after their wedding, but their new place was only slightly bigger than their former one, so there really was no avoiding each other on nights they hung out.

It helped with some of the lingering bitterness. But it also kept him in her orbit. And that just made it very clear that Blaise Zabini? He’s impossible to forget.

Every time she wasn’t annoyed with him, she liked everything that came out of his mouth. When they bantered, she felt alive. When he looked her up and down as she entered the room, she couldn’t keep herself from grinning.

She missed him.

That wasn’t new. She knew that she missed him. It didn’t mean anything. At least, it didn’t change anything. They didn’t work. She realised why. She missed him. She wasn’t falling for anyone new. The facts weren’t great, but not a threat in any way.

Except that some nights, when she was more sober than she would have liked to admit afterwards, that feeling of missing him crossed the line into exceptionally dangerous territory.

I want him, she’d admit to herself, I want him for myself again.

During nights like that, it was especially nice to have Oliver there. She could distract herself by bringing up Quidditch with Oliver and Marcus and then the night would fly by. In the end, they grew rather close.

So, yes, of course, when Oliver asked her to do the photography for their wedding, she happily agreed.

So here she is at another wedding.

Admittedly, she’s having a pretty great time. Oliver and Marcus decided to have their wedding on a small island off the coast of Scotland, underneath the wide open sky. There isn’t a theme, but, just like with Neville and Astoria’s wedding, Ginny manages to find something like a theme – freedom. Both men flew into the ceremony on their brooms. There are aerial artists at the reception. The air smells of salt and seaweed and a hearty wind has been blowing through the clusters of guests since the moment they stepped onto the island.

Some of the guests are complaining, running after hats or constantly brushing their hair out of their faces. But most of them are enjoying breathing a little deeper than normally, feeling the fresh ocean air fill up their lungs and making their minds expand beyond the walls they usually find themselves enclosed in.

The wind makes Ginny’s job a little harder, since it’s hard to catch people being photogenetic with hair in their faces, but she likes a challenge. Moreover, with conditions like these, the good shots she does take aren’t just good – they’re brilliant.

She’s caught Oliver and Marcus a couple of times, grinning brightly and holding hands. They fit each other so well that it perplexes her sometimes. Every time that happens, she feels her gaze wander, looking for the shark-eyed man who recalibrates her sense of gravity.

She tries not to. It’s just so hard not to indulge – Blaise looks like a Greek hero, briefly sequestered on some island or other while he is on his way back home to Athens. The ceremony was in the morning, at eleven, so the party is in the middle of the day. Although the sky isn’t as blue as it was this morning, instead turning a cloudy light-grey, the day is still warm and as wonderful as they could have hoped for. The island is rocks and weeds, mostly, so sand isn’t much of an issue, and since the island isn’t lived on, it’s like they’re out in a piece of wildness.

Blaise has taken off his jacket, like most of the men who are bothered by the heat and inspired by the free feeling on the island. Most of the women have taken their heels off and are walking around bare-foot. It’s like they’re all letting their hair down and taking a break from social conventions, even while politely asking after each other’s families and addressing people by their formal titles.

She catches someone teasingly calling Neville ‘professor’ and looks over to see him grinning at Hannah, who is holding Millicent’s hand. With a smile, Ginny brings up her camera and snaps a picture of them.

Then she returns her attention to Blaise.

He’s grinning with Draco and Adrian. Adrian and he are bare-footed already, and Draco is toeing of his shoes, leaning against Adrian to keep his balance. Marcus calls out a jab to them and Draco flips him off good-heartedly.

Blaise looks up and catches her gaze like he was expecting her to be looking at him.

“Gin!” he calls out, making her chest ache, “Please, this has to be memorialised!”

Ginny pushes through the pain and laughs, taking a photo of Draco stumbling around with one shoe and a stark white sock in his hand. Blaise lets out a cackle just as she takes it, and when she checks the picture her eyes are immediately drawn to the perfect, joyful expression on his face. No matter what he’s doing, she has never managed to take a bad picture of this stupidly photogenetic asshole.

The second she sees the picture, she knows she’s going to cherish it. Something about this feels right. She’s here with her friends and family, and everyone is happy, and the air is as fresh as the first day of the world.

She loves him, she realises. It’s all very simple suddenly. She loves him.

And, with that, everything doesn’t feel so right anymore. Because even though they’re all here, together, and Blaise is right there for her to smile at and touch, and she loves everyone, and she loves him, she isn’t with him. They’re just existing in the same space.

Tears blur her vision and she flinches. Panic shoots through her at the thought of everyone being able to see, so she whips her hair in front of her face with a nod and backs away from the scene, her fingers shaking. She needs more air.

Ginny walks briskly towards the edge of the party, where the people are more spread out and engaged in deep conversations. She finds a nice rock and sits down on it, pretending to look through the images on her camera while she tries to find her bearings.

Well fuck. This is just excessive, isn’t it? Love him? When the fuck did that happen?

Somewhere between spending a year in his arms and another year wanting him back, she guesses. Still, aren’t you supposed to notice when you start loving someone? She definitely didn’t start just now. So why hasn’t she noticed before?

Fuck. It doesn’t matter. It’s going to take a while for her to process this. The best thing she can do right now is gather herself up and get back to the party. She’s going to have to put this off.

Ah, crap, Percy is going to have a field day with this.

“Are you alright?”

Blaise is frowning down at her, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking wind-swept and perfect.

Of all the goddamn times for him to be considerate…

“Hm?” she says, frantically trying to get her erratic heartbeat under control.

He purses his lips. “You alright?” he repeats.

She forces a smile. “Yup. Lovely ceremony, didn’t you think?”

She couldn’t make it more obvious that she’s trying to change the subject, but if he’s in a considerate mood, then maybe-

“Cut the crap, Ginny.” He sits down beside her, cocking his head in her direction. “What’s wrong?”

Ah, hell.

“I don’t want to get into it.” She returns her attention to her camera.

He nudges her. “You can talk to me.”

There’s something weird about his voice, so she looks back up at him. The wind blows her hair into her face, obscuring him. But she can make out the expression on his face – it matches his tone.

Nervous. A little hopeful.

Her lips part in surprise, and suddenly she is all ears for whatever he has to say. The monster of hope roars up in her chest, threatening to swallow her whole.

“Why?” she asks, “Do you have something you wanted to talk about?”

Blaise freezes for a moment and then glances to the side, in the direction of their friends and family. He’s getting somewhere, though. She can tell.

“I’ve been thinking,” he finally says, looking back at her. Now that he’s made up his mind, he completely zones in on her. From one moment to the next, it’s like the rest of the world around them doesn’t exist anymore.

He has a look on his face that she remembers very clearly. He’s hovering right on the edge of vulnerability – of letting her in. Most of their relationship had been spent dancing on that knife’s edge.

But this time, he does something that he has never done before: he takes a shaky breath and plunges right off that edge.

“Can we try this again?” he asks, his expression open and pleading, “Us?”

Something inside of her is pulled taut. “You’ve been thinking about that?”

“Yes.”

There’s no hesitation or reluctance in his expression. She traces the lines of his face with her eyes, looking for anything even remotely unsure. Despite how he may present himself, Blaise is an overthinker. He overcompensates for his insecurities by pretending to be sure about things.

But right now…

She’s learned to read him, over the years. She’s seeing nothing of that now.

He’s serious.

The corners of her mouth turn up into a smile as hope turns into elation. “Yes,” she tells him.

His gaze flits across her face, and she knows he’s looking for the same things she was looking for just now. He won’t find any. She’s never been more sure about anything in her life.

“Yes,” she repeats, reaching out to take his hand. And because he has shown her how to do it, she lets her walls down for a second and squeezes his hand. “Please.”

A smile similar to her own unfurls on his face and he grips her hand more tightly. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” she states with a nod. She starts laughing.

He reaches for her like he can’t stop himself, pressing his hand into her cheek and scooting closer towards her so he can press their foreheads together, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Ginny laughs again, so overwhelmingly happy in that moment. She turns her head to press her lips to the palm of his hand, then moves back to press her forehead square against his.

She’s still holding his other hand. She never wants to let it go.

She’s not going to.

***

“Smile,” he whispers into her cheek, his hand pressing against her lower back.

“My jaws hurt,” she complains, but her lips curve up into a smile anyway.

She listens to Blaise chuckle while she poses for the camera, trying not to flinch when the flash goes off. The photographer looks at the image for a moment and then sticks up his thumb with a grin. Ginny gives him a polite nod and turns to Blaise as he walks away.

“That shot did not need a flash.”

Blaise smiles at her and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You can lecture him tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, I’m going to be lounging in a pool in Italy,” she corrects him, brightening up at the thought.

“Tomorrow, you’ll be passed out until three,” he correct her in turn, grinning at her.

She elbows him for the innuendo she knows is in there, but he’s right. Even if they do nothing but sleep tonight, she’s going to be absolutely floored tomorrow. All of the preparations have taken a bigger toll on her than she expected, and this day is very wonderful, but also very long.

Worth it, though.

She places a hand on Blaise’s cheek, looking at him while his gaze glides over their surroundings. People seem to be having fun, at least. The twins are drunk, which is rude, she supposes, but she just thinks it’s great. Plus, it’s hilarious to see their genuine interactions with all of Blaise’s stuck-up cousins. She’s pretty sure they’ve pranked at least three of them already.

She joins Blaise in his surveillance of the scene. They’re standing in the middle of their own backyard, where a dance floor has been put out, surrounded by fairy lights that her father insisted on buying for them. She kicked off her shoes before their first dance and Blaise keeps playing with her hair, which probably looks nothing like the elegant up-do that Fleur helped her with earlier that day.

She has never been happier in her life.

Everyone is there. Every single couple she’s ever photographed for, all of their family, their friends… Even Lady Zabini has a small smile on her face now, despite her company. She insisted on paying for the entire wedding, so Blaise and Ginny decided to have it in their backyard to spite her. Although Lady Zabini has come around to Ginny since she and Blaise got back together, she’s still stupidly hoity-toity about power and status when it comes down to it, and isn’t too happy about her son marrying into the Weasley family.

Well, she’ll have to get used to it. Against all odds, Blaise is a Weasley now.

And she’s a Zabini.

She looks back at her husband – her husband – and lets that sink in for another moment. Before she’s through, one of Blaise’s cousins has come up to congratulate them personally, and she’s swept back into polite conversation. As soon as the guy leaves, she groans and scrunches up her nose.

“We should have eloped.”

Blaise fondly rolls his eyes at her. “You’re the one who didn’t want to.”

“I’m an idiot.”

I told you that you’d hate a big wedding.”

“I don’t hate it. I love it. I would just also love to sit down.”

He shakes his head at her and her gaze drifts down to the new ring on his finger. After months and months of planning, today finally came. The ceremony is over. She’s all set. For life. It’s incredible.

Blaise pulls her against himself and presses a kiss to her crown. “I told you,” he says again.

She sighs. “Fine. You were right.”

“I usually am.”

She sticks out her tongue at him. Behind her, she hears the click of a camera. She turns her head to spot the photographer, not able to resists checking whether he’s doing an okay job. But Blaise catches her and sweeps down to kiss her. He doesn’t hold back either – he kisses her thoroughly, until some of the guests start cheering and whistling at them. Then he pulls back and kisses the tip of her nose before standing up straight again with a satisfied grin.

She can’t help but laugh at him. Ridiculous, perfect man.

“Let the man do his job,” he teases her.

“I am!”

“You’re hovering.”

She gasps. “You take that back.”

“It’s true.”

“Goddammit.”

He’s right. She needs to let this go. The next wedding she attends, she’ll be able to take her own pictures again. She’ll use all of the tools she likes best and play with the light and look for the best angles. She’ll have her settings just right and will get down into the dirt to get that perfect shot. For now, she just has to enjoy her own wedding for a change. It’s going to be the last one she’ll ever have, if it’s up to her.

She smiles at her husband. “Well, then, Zabini. How about you distract me?”

“Am I a joke to you? What have I been doing for the past hour?”

“Your best, I’m sure.”

“Ohohohoho… You did not.”

He pulls her against him, making her laugh, and drags her back onto the dance floor for another lazy waltz. She presses her cheek against his chest and closes her eyes, feeling the heat of his body against hers, the thump of his heart; her favourite sound. Around them, the party goes on, filling the evening air with drunken laughter and laid-back conversations. Blaise is humming along with the song, his chin on top of her head. Everything settles into place for a brief moment.

According to some people, time isn’t real, so this moment will last forever. Even when the night passes and she gets on a plane to Italy, holding her husband’s hand. When she spends the next few weeks lounging in his arms and making him feed her grapes and bruschetta. When they wake up on a Sunday morning twenty years from now. When she’s old and brittle and every memory she’s ever had begins to fade.

She will still be right here. With him.

#blinny #blaise x ginny #ginny x blaise #hp #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #original #slytherdornet #hprarepairnet

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kindofcashton · 4 years

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𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 • chapter 10 (Calum Hood AU)

“HAVE A GOOD rest of your day.” I smiled at the gray-haired woman as I handed her a freshly made raspberry tea. She was the last customer in line, and everyone seated at the tables had been served. Outside, the sun was shining almost painfully bright, casting golden rays through the cafe window. I rested my elbows on the counter as I gazed at the world outside, wondering what the fresh breeze felt like on their skin. I’d been at work for hours, long before the sun came up. Mack had needed all hands on deck to do some rearranging with newly bought furniture and he decided since we were all there so early to deep clean the store. I’d shined that very front window just this morning, and I wanted it to stay smudge-free for as long as possible.

“Hey, quit daydreaming.” Roger’s voice broke me out of my daze, and I rolled my eyes at him. Roger had quickly become one of my best friends in the entire city, and I could never stay mad or annoyed when he was around. Even on the worst of days, he could get a smile out of me.

“Why?” I countered. “There’s no one to help. Besides, it’s so nice outside and we’re stuck in here.”

He grabbed a small espresso mug and poured himself some tap water. “Scarlett, are you seriously complaining about the smell of coffee beans and baking bread?” I laughed; he was right. If I had to be stuck anywhere I’d want to be in the cafe. It smelled heavenly, and the warmth of the ovens was like a gentle caress. Even though I hadn’t been paid yet, still on the probationary period Mack had set, I loved my job. Coming to work was rarely a hassle, only when I was exhausted or having a bad day was it difficult to get through.

I joked around with Roger for a few more minutes, until the mid-afternoon crowd started filing in. A couple of our regulars came in, and chatting with them was always nice. I felt like I was part of a little community of coffee-lovers. They often told me seeing my face was the best part of their day, because it meant caffeine was coming. It was also nice having something separate from Hannah and the guys. I was grateful for the help they were giving me, especially Hannah, but I liked having something that was my thing. I missed being independent, and work gave me a little slice of that every day.

The rush died down, and the back door opened signaling Mack’s arrival. He was usually in the back all day long, paying bills or making pastries or just hanging out. As far as bosses go he was an amazing one; he was always open for questions and up for giving a helping hand, but he didn’t suffocate the employees or micromanage us. As long as we didn’t screw up too often, he was happy.

“How’s it goin’ up here, you two?” he asked me and Roger. What looked to be brownie batter was smattered across his apron. Mack was always making a mess while he baked.

“Absolutely phenomenal,” Roger exaggerated, flipping a dish rag onto his shoulder. “I’ve never had a day as exceptional as this one.”

Mack rolled his eyes, but under his bushy mustache I knew he’d cracked a smile. “Try to contain your enthusiasm, Roger,” he said, and then he turned his attention to me. “Your day is about to be even better than Roger’s here.”

I froze, heart beating fast in my chest. Had the day finally come? Was I officially an employee? I’d lost count of how long it had been since Mack gave me the two week deadline.

“R-really?” I stuttered, trying not to get my hopes up.

Mack folded his arms and regarded me with a thoughtful expression. “I’ll admit, you were pretty crap in the beginning. Must have screwed up every drink you made, somehow.” I flushed at the memories of my rocky beginning. “Still, you stuck with it, and now here you are, making mocha lattes left and right and only ruining a few of them.” Roger gave me a mock high-five.

Mack sent him a stern glance that Roger just smirked innocently at. “Anyway, I’d like to officially hire you and start gettin’ you those paychecks you deserve. Sound good?”

I had to hold in a squeal of excitement, not to mention a massive sigh of relief. Just when money was really getting tight, I’d finally have an income. Obviously part-time at a cafe wouldn’t earn me huge amounts of money, but I worked so often I was sure it would count for something.

“Yes, that’s great. Thank you so much, Mack,” I said, grinning ear to ear. Roger pretended to stick a finger down his throat and gag, and Mack whipped him with a towel.

“Alright you two, get back to work. I’ll have fresh brownies for the display case in half an hour.”

Once he’d disappeared back into the kitchen, I pumped my fist and let out a short laugh. “This timing is perfect,” I told Roger. “I have people at the bank breathing down my neck, this is exactly what I need.”

He smirked at me. “You’re cute when you’re excited,” he commented, and I punched his arm lightly. “We should celebrate after our shifts.”

“Perfect,” I replied. “Wanna get dinner?”

“I was thinking tubs of ice cream and cheap beer in my car.” I actually liked this idea; Roger had a cool souped-up convertible that I loved driving in. The thought of sitting with the top down in the nice weather with a pint of ice cream and a paycheck in my future sounded amazing.

The rest of my shift couldn’t have gone fast enough. Being in such a good mood helped time fly, and when two other employees came in for their shift after ours Roger and I happily clocked out and stepped into the warm breeze.

“I can’t believe you’re still taking the bus to work,” Roger told me as we climbed into his convertible. I clicked my seat-belt and leaned back in the comfy leather seat.

“Not all of us have fancy cars like this,” I reminded him, and he gasped.

“I worked hard for this car, Scarlett Mercer. Don’t insult her like that.” As Roger sped away I giggled, elated at the way the wind lifted my hair and the sun warmed my face. He insisted on blasting awful music as we drove along the roads, and I was too busy laughing hysterically to be embarrassed.

When we got to the grocery store we decided to divide and conquer, with Roger getting the ice cream and me getting the beer. I told him I wanted strawberry cheesecake, and he pretended to gag again as he told me, “Of course you’d be a strawberry cheesecake kind of girl.”

Wandering towards the fridges of beer, I had a blissful smile on my face. There were so many choices and I was having a hard time picking something I thought we’d both like. As I slowly moved down the aisle, I bumped into someone I hadn’t even seen in front of me since my thoughts were so distant.

“Oh, sorry--” I started, and then I realized exactly who I’d bumped into. Messy hair, big hoodie, and a casual smirk. Calum looked lazy and relaxed, like he’d just rolled out of bed even though it was the afternoon. I smiled with a huff, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

“I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” I admitted, and he snorted.

“Clearly.” He didn’t sound cold or mean, in fact his smirk was more of a smile. I was still tentative around him, sort of feeling like I was on eggshells. One wrong move and I’d scare him off, or make him angry. I liked the weird in-between mood we had between us lately; not entirely polite, but definitely not cruel.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, adjusting the case of beer under his arm. I gestured to the fridges in front of us.

“I need some beer, a coworker and I are celebrating.” He didn’t ask what we were celebrating, which sent a pang of disappointment through me.

“Know what you want?” he questioned. I was busy admiring the way the dark purple hoodie looked on his tall frame, and snapped my gaze back up to his.

“Uh, no, actually,” I responded. “Something cheap. But other than that, I have no idea what to look for.” I drank pretty much anything; as long as it had alcohol and it was in front of me, I never complained.

He rolled his eyes good naturedly, placing the case under his arm on the floor so he could fish through the fridge. He pulled out an unfamiliar brand and handed it to me. “This stuff gets the job done,” he explained, and I didn’t even check over the beer. I trusted him.

“Thanks.” I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, chewing my lip as I wondered what else to say. I didn’t want this conversation to end, but I also didn’t want to force it. Maybe it was in my imagination, but Calum also looked like he wanted to say something. I silently begged him to speak, hoping my green eyes communicated clearly with his brown ones.

Just at this moment Roger came down the aisle to join me, ice cream pints in hand. I saw the thorough once over he gave Calum, taking in his black shorts and messy hair and purple hoodie. I also saw Calum inspect Roger, more specifically his nose ring and ear piercings. It was weird watching two of my worlds collide, and I shifted uncomfortably.

“Um, Roger, this is Calum,” I started to say. “He’s one of the guys I live with.”

Roger whistled. “You’re living with four of these things?” he asked me, causing my jaw to drop and Calum’s brows to furrow. He didn’t look pissed, thankfully. Yet, I reminded myself. There’s still time.

Chuckling awkwardly, I nodded. “Uh, yeah. And Calum, this is Roger, he works at the cafe with me.”

Calum gave him a short nod of recognition, expression entirely unreadable. I was worried we were annoying him, and grabbed Roger’s arm to start leading him away.

“Well, I’ll see you later, Calum,” I called. “Thanks for the beer.” He stayed quiet as he watched us leave, eyes never breaking away from my own. I had to be the one to turn around, even though I missed his gaze as soon as it left.

“You didn’t tell me these roommates of yours were Greek gods,” Roger hissed. I rolled my eyes and dragged him to the self-checkout, just hoping we could escape Calum and talk in private.

“I don’t know, wouldn’t it have been weird to say ‘hey, I live with four guys who are ridiculously attractive’? Besides, what does it matter?” I scanned the beer and the two ice creams, dropping them into a plastic bag.

“So you think they’re ridiculously attractive,” he fired back, and I frowned.

“I mean, they’re not bad looking guys,” I admitted. “I don’t know, I don’t really think about it.” This wasn’t true; I thought about how not bad Calum looked all the time, against my will mostly.

“Okay, and have any of them made a move? Do you wanna make a move?”

“Make a move to do what?” I questioned as we exited the store. My eyes immediately scanned the parking lot for a familiar red mustang, and I saw it parked a few spots away from Roger’s convertible.

“Scarlett, if you don’t jump that guy’s bones I’m gonna be pissed,” Roger expressed, causing me to blush. “Seriously, if the other three are even half as good looking as that one, you need to get some action.”

“We’re all--friends,” I tried to explain, failing abysmally and instead burying my face in the ice cream.

“Bullshit.” Roger drove a short ways to the park, and stopped his car under a big tree so we had some shade. He cracked open a beer and gave me one, and we clinked them together in a cheers.

“I’m proud of you for finally not screwing up enough to be hired,” he pronounced. “But now I really need you to get with that guy so that we can celebrate something else.”

I took a swig of beer, pleasantly surprised at the taste. Calum was right; this got the job done alright. “I don’t want to get with that guy,” I answered. “He was really mean to me when I first got here, we’re only just recently on speaking terms.”

“Hate sex: even better.”

I groaned; there was no escaping Roger. I changed the subject to something else, tired of talking about Calum. Really, I was tired of thinking about him. The quiz night had been fun but incredibly confusing; I mean, just that morning we’d been arguing. I didn’t have the time or energy to figure out what was going on with him, and didn’t want to waste my afternoon with Roger talking about it. We ate our ice cream and drank our beer and enjoyed the sunny afternoon, and by the time Roger drove me home the sun was beginning to set.

“See you tomorrow!” I shouted from the front step as he revved his engine and sped off. I just caught sight of his middle finger going up before I entered the house.

I was greeted by an all too familiar sight; Hannah and Ashton squaring off in the kitchen, screaming their heads off at one another.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Hannah,” Ashton snapped, his eyes wild with anger. This time though, Luke, Michael, and Calum were seated at the table and didn’t look too happy either. What could she have done to piss them all off?

“Why are you giving me such a hard time?” Hannah demanded. “I don’t need you making this more fucking difficult for me.”

“Difficult for you?” I thought Ashton was going to blow a gasket. No one had really noticed I was home, or at least I thought. I saw Calum send me a heated glare that stopped the air in my throat.

“Do you think it’s easy finding out your girlfriend has been lying to you for months and doesn’t seem to find the problem with this?”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re actually making this about you! Which is something you always fucking do, no matter what it’s about! Everything revolves around you!”

Ashton sighed aggressively. “Except this does involve me, because I’m your fucking boyfriend! And it also involves them, and her.” He jabbed a finger at the guys and then me, his expression just as angry when he was looking at me.

Luke spoke up from the table. “Scarlett, did you know Hannah had failed out of college, not dropped out?’

I opened my mouth, prepared to come up with some sort of excuse, but Calum beat me to it.

“Of course she knew. Maybe she’s lying too.” I felt his words cut right into me; he’d been on my case about this for weeks, and now he was airing it to everyone else.

Ashton was looking at me expectantly. “Well? Care to explain?”

I took a short breath, sliding my eyes to Hannah’s desperate expression. But there was nothing I could say to spare her now, not when Ashton knew she’d flunked out. But I could still save myself.

“I don’t know what you want me to explain,” I bluffed. “It was Hannah’s choice what she wanted to tell you. I didn’t want to push her to do something she didn’t want to do.” I wasn’t lying; Hannah agreed we’d keep quiet and respect each other’s wishes. I wanted to keep my parents’ death and subsequent bankruptcy a secret, and she didn’t want anyone to know she failed out of her classes. We knew it would be hard for people to wrap their heads around if they ever found out, but also knew they would never understand since they weren’t in our shoes. I wished Ashton had some empathy for the girl he was supposed to love, but the anger and betrayal in his eyes was intense.

“So you thought lying to everyone was the answer?” he demanded. “I thought we’d already fought this out last time, when I found out you’d left school. But to hear it was because you flunked?”

“What was I supposed to say, Ashton?” Hannah screamed, losing the last of her patience. “You think I wanted to have to tell you I failed? You’re this super smart, successful guy and I just wanted you to be proud of me!”

Ashton scoffed. “Don’t blame this on me, I would’ve been proud of you regardless!”

“Really? You can really say you don’t care that your girlfriend is so stupid she got kicked out of university?” I could hear how Hannah’s voice was breaking, all of her insecurities bubbling to the surface. She always struggled with feeling dumb, and being with Ashton didn’t help when he was so intelligent. We all waited with bated breath for his response, and in my head I willed him to say the right thing. Just say you love her, and want to support her. Say it doesn’t matter that she isn’t the brightest student. But Ashton was silent, apparently side-tracked by the brutal question. I saw Hannah’s face crumble as she realized the truth; Ashton couldn’t be proud of her after what had happened, and he was even borderline ashamed of her.

Realization struck Hannah at this moment, because she let out a choked sob. The sound broke my heart in two, and I rushed over to where she stood and wrapped my arms around her in a tight embrace. I saw Ashton sigh and storm out of the kitchen, the front door slamming as he left us in the dust. Hannah sobbed again at the loud noise, and I felt all of her pain seep into me.

Michael and Luke looked like they didn’t know what to believe, and didn’t say a word to either of us as they disappeared upstairs. Calum stayed seated at the table, staring forward and not looking at Hannah or me.

Hannah sniffled, and untangled her arms from around me. “Thanks, Scarlett,” she murmured, her eyes indicating the depth of her gratitude. I just nodded, a huge lump in my throat preventing any words from coming out. Hannah and I had gone through an impossible situation together, and nothing could tear us apart after that. I watched her retreat down the basement stairs to where she slept, suddenly feeling like I was going to collapse from the weight of the pressure on my shoulders.

I flinched as suddenly Calum came right up to me, his face inches away as he studied my own. I was sure I looked shell-shocked and completely broken, and for a second I was humiliated at being so vulnerable in front of him.

“Calum,” I choked out, tears welling in my eyes. If he detected my crying, he stayed firm.

“I know you’re lying too,” he whispered, the breath tickling my ear and making my eyes shut. He didn’t sound forceful or accusing; just matter-of-fact. “That was bullshit, what you said.”

I took in a shaky breath. “Please,” I begged, finally looking at him. His brown eyes widened at the sight of my tears, and even softened. I was slightly stunned at how kindly he was gazing at me, and wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his warm embrace.

“Scarlett,” he said, trailing off as he reached a hand out. I winced, and he saw my reaction and retracted his hand quickly. I couldn’t handle the tension between us, all of the heat nearly suffocating me. He wasn’t embracing me, he was drowning me. I had to save myself.

“Please don’t ask me about it,” I pleaded, my voice barely more than a breath. “I can’t...” The words broke off into the air, and I swallowed roughly. I just needed him to understand, just once.

His lips parted, and I remembered when I’d kissed those lips all those nights ago. How he made my stomach flutter in all the best ways, how his hands were like magic on my skin. I leaned into him, only briefly, inhaling his scent that shrouded my mind.

He tilted his forehead forward ever so slightly until it grazed mine, the sensation like sparks igniting off our skin. If I moved just a hair closer I could’ve kissed him. Could’ve, but I didn’t.

Finally, he broke the silence between us with, “Okay.” After the word left his lips, he leaned back and put distance between us. A whoosh of air left my lungs, and I fought to keep steady as he passed by me. As he did so, the back of his hand brushed mine. It was the lightest of touches, but it was more understanding than I’d ever seen from him before.

Not until I heard his bedroom door close could I finally breathe again.

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othercat2 · 4 years

Text

Trip to the Mall

Crossover between Untamed and After the Storm by Hannah Birchwood, Key Dyson and Raymond Roach a fusion au in which Wei Ying is a geneticist who rescues a family of experimental soldier mods and moves to a city of ships out in the middle of Lake Michigan.

___________________________________

It’s been a month since their arrival as refugees to the Michigan Fleet. They’re still working their way through hours and hours of “prosocial education,” that takes the form of watching a children’s program and answering questions and talking to counsellors and their social worker.

Wei Ying has been living with Wen Qing, her brother and their little cousin Yuan. Qing has been barrelling her way through qualifications to become a medic, Ning got a job on a restaurant boat while taking psychology classes. Baby Yuan still has nightmares about the labs and the trip, but he’s recovering. Wei Ying has a job waiting for him: an “internship” working with another bio-engineer that’s mostly just a drawn out assessment period, from what the social worker says, but that’s a couple weeks away.

Wei Ying is half asleep with Yuan in his lap. Yuan's singing along with Nanna Dog the Librarian as she teaches a lesson about sleeping things organized and neat. Wei Ying wants to object to this on grounds of dog, and also, he already had to watch several episodes that are thinly veiled and not so thinly veiled discussions of ptsd and trauma. And also dog. (Even if it's actually a puppet.) Sadly, Yuan's piping voice and tendency to actually answer questions the puppet asks out loud is adorable, so he's trapped.

He also falls asleep, only to be woken up by Wen Qing, who's nudging him. "You need to get out," she says.

Wei Ying gives her a look of exaggerated hurt. "After all we've been too each other, Miss Wen?" He nudges Yuan, who's also fallen asleep. "Yuan, big sister is throwing me out!"

"Noooo," Yuan says sleepily, and clings like a limpet.

"Drama queen," Qing says with a snort. "You've been mostly hanging out on the couch since we got here. The neighbors have been politely wondering what's wrong with you that you don't come out of our quarters ever."

"So that means you're kicking me out?" Wei Ying asks, pouting.

"Just temporarily," Qing says. "I've uploaded a shopping list. Take Yuan with you."

Wei Ying whines about it, but his protests lack force. A trip to the Mall might help him shake off the fog that had been hanging around him since they'd reached safety. (Travelling cross country, travelling through countries, bribing and lying and praying no one saw under the Wens' makeup and realized they were looking at experimental gene mods. He'd been on a hyper alert adrenaline rush and this was the crash.)

He gets dressed in the Local Costume of sarong, sandals and a t shirt (his says in binary, "if you can read this you know binary"), gets Yuan dressed and takes one of the deck hoppers from the Sandy Button out to the Mall. The Mall was a huge former tanker, repurposed as a trade center for not only the fleet, but also most of the American Midwest. It was permanently anchored about a mile from shore and acted as a buffer between the Fleet and the cities surrounding Lake Michigan.

Yuan is of course immediately drawn to the toy and foodstalls. Wei Ying gets him bacon on a stick as they sightsee their way to the clothes and second hand vendors. He's working his way through the shopping list when he realizes Yuan is missing.

"The little boy who was with me, did you see where he went?!" Wei Ying asked frantically.

"Could've sworn he was here a minute ago!" a vendor says. "Should've had him in harness." The vendor tsks.

"I'll keep that in mind," Wei Ying says while trying really hard not to think of Wen Ning walking with the chains that had been used yo restrain him dragging. On the other hand he'd seen a really cute backpack harness with Wilimina Wolf, a character that mostly showed up in Family Fleet to talk about nature, weather and ship safety.

"If he's wearing data rings or a tracker shouldn't be any problem for the Mall to track him," the vendor says reassuringly.

Asking the Mall to track Yuan turns out not to be necessary, though Wei Ying almost needs a medic. Yuan is back at the toy vendors, bothering what looks to be off-duty Security. The officer, a cute guy with a solemn appearance, has Yuan balanced on his hip and appears to be listening intently to whatever it is Yuan is saying. "I'm so sorry, officer," Wei Ying says, running over. "He wandered off."

"If you or your caregiver is lost, you should find Security," Yuan says in a very definite tone. The Security officer nods approvingly.

Wei Ying isn't so sure about that. "Even if they're off-duty?"

"I am not off-duty in the case of a lost caregiver," the officer says with a faint smile as he sets Yuan down. The kid immediately latches onto Wei Ying.

"Excuse me? I'm not the one who wandered off!" Wei Ying says in mock offense. Yuan just giggles at him.

"He should have a harness," the officer says. "If it were rainy or windy there would have been a fine."

Wei Ying just barely manages to avoid snapping a childish, well it wasn't. Partly because the officer was so quietly genuine about it, partly because if he got in trouble with the police, Wen Qing would probably--no, definitely--kill him. "I promise it'll be the next thing I buy." To be friendly, he says, "How about I treat you to lunch, officer?"

"Zahn Lan," the officer says.

"Wei Ying, or I guess Ying Wei now," Wei Ying says. And because he can't help himself, and Zahn hadn't said anything one way or another, "so, lunch?"

There was another faint smile. "You said the harness would be the next thing."

"Want to make sure I follow through?" Wei Ying asks in mock offense. "Or just the right order?"

"Yes," Zahn says.

Wei Ying heads to the nearest children's clothing shop, giving a highly edited story of asylum seeking and immigration. He ends up carrying most of the conversation. Zahn seems quiet, not a talker. The kind of guy who's better at listening than talking.

They go to lunch in one of the small diners on board the Mall. It's a bright airy place with a good view and lots of rowdy gulls vying for scraps. Yuan gets nuggets pressed into dinosaur shapes and sweet potato fries and fruit punch. ( He immediately starts making them fight.) Zahn gets a tempura plate sampler and green tea. Wei Ying gets a burger, onion rings, and without thinking about it, a beer. Zahn says nothing, but Wei Ying could almost feel the weight of disapproval. "Just one won't hurt," Wei Ying says. "It won't even set off the alchohol detector on the deck hopper."

"Hmn."

The drinks arrive first of course, and Wei Ying starts to take a drink. Zahn immediately reaches out, stopping him. Wei Ying can't help the slight flinch. "Is there a problem officer?" Wei Ying asks. He tries for humor but misses.

"The lake must first be given her due," the security officer says, disapproving.

"What?"

"Pour some of the beer out the window," Zahn said patiently.

"For the lake," Wei Ying said blankly.

"The lake is thirsty?" Yuan asks, brow furrowed.

"It's a custom, to pay respect to the lake," Zahn explains. "Food dropped into the lake must not be retrieved, it belongs to the lake, and one must pour a drink for the lake before drinking yourself."

Yuan frowns at his punch, looking worried. "I don't want lake-jie to be mad at me," he decides, and before Wei Ying can stop him, he tries to toss the contents of his glass into the water. Unfortunately, the glass goes out the window along with the punch.

"Yuan!" Wei says in exasperation. He feels instantly terrible about the way the little boy freezes. At the same time, he feels a spike of anxiety about the cup, stupidly out of proportion to the accident.

"No harm was done," Zahn says.

"Harm!? You're security, Fleet littering fines are ruinous and we're still under probation!"

"An accident," Zahn says. "Is hardly littering. You are fine."

"Thanks I know," Wei Ying says, and immediately regrets everything. He unthinkingly starts to take a drink, only to be stopped once more by Zahn's hand on his arm. "Seriously?!"

Zahn just stares at him.

Wei Ying sighs, makes absolutely no comments about quaint folk religions (North America also having everything from radiation worshipping death cults to gene mods who thought they were literally gods to ancient web comic characters and saints invented by fantasy authors) and pours some his beer out. "There. Happy?"

Zahn nods. "Mn."

#after the storm #boat boys #the untamed #wei ying has the traumas

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spiderman-spoilerman · 4 years

Text

SPIDERMAN EXPOSED BECAUSE OF TAYLOR SWIFT ADDICTION: What Is Peter Parker to Spider-Man?

This shit that has been going on for months now has finally been solved. For the longest time I’ve been following Spider-Man oh so very closely, eager to find out his identity—not to expose it to the media vultures, oh no, our hero deserves more than that. But… to satisfy my own curiosity. He’s the only Avenger hiding his identity, you know? You’d think they’d be okay with it after all these other superheroes get to run around freely…

Anyway!

As you all know, countless names have been linked to Spider-Man. He seems close with Tony Stark, but that’s hardly relevant. There’ve been links to JD Slinger, the American Pop Singer, in a very poor attempt to sell records—you’re not Hannah Montana JD fucking Slinger! Stick to your trash music!!!

However untrue and disappointing Slinger’s attempt at fame is, he’s not the only one with musical elements that is linked to Spider-Man.

A few months ago, a viral video entering adorable and kind of pedos-get-the-fuck-out-of-here-territory circulated around the internet and into our nightly news, as does every baby goes viral video does. You can check it out on the link below for a good dose of endorphins.

[Link: Baby boy wants to be Taylor Swift, re-uploaded by djflash]

[Description: A six-year old boy is standing in the shower with a towel draped over his body like a makeshift cloak, he is clutching his tooth brush on and seems to be furiously lip syncing. The camera shakes as the person behind the camera stifles laughter.

May Parker, the original uploader and aunt of the then-toddler Peter, asks: Aren’t you tired Peter? From all the singing? You’ve been singing for two hours. Aren’t you cold?

Peter is intensely staring at the mirror as he lip-syncs but pauses to look at May. He says in a tired and raspy voice: Yeah, but, but my fans! I need to sing, Auntie May, for the fa— [looking harried] DROP EVERYTHING NOW, MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN—

The sound of Peter singing is drowned by May’s scream as Peter falls on his butt, having jumped with his passion for the song, and tripping.

It cuts off with May laughing while taking Peter in her arms, phone capturing her picking him up and hearing Peter crying as he tries to get back to the mirror: It—doesn’t hurt May. Need to get back—my! My concert!

Video ends]

Now how does a viral video of a baby Taylor Swift fan connect to Spider-Man?

Well, May Parker posted it on Facebook when Flash Thompson, who claims to be a good friend of Peter Parker (although I highly doubt this, he’s only in it for the clout and Spider-Man’s love, click here for more on Flash), decided to share it to everyone. One of his reposts on Twitter propelled it to viral success.

Weeks later, May Parker decided to bless us again with more content by taking a video of her now teenage (17 years old—PEDO’S STAY AWAY) nephew singing, once again, a Taylor Swift song.

[Link: I’m so glad im seventeen and can properly thirst upon this wonderful hooman]

[Description: They are in the kitchen this time and May Parker is being discreet with her video-taking. A Taylor Swift song ends softly from his phone’s tiny speakers. A Spotify ad interrupts but the video cuts it off two seconds later for another Taylor Swift song to filter in.

We take in the scenario. Peter is in his pyjamas, shaking his booty while singing Stay Stay Stay. He flourishes his hands a few times, dramatizing, “That’s when you came in wearing a football helmet, and I said, [he changes voices] “Okay, let’s talk” [he finishes one pancake and pours a new batter in before using the ladle as a microphone, as if in anticipation for the moment, and, back bent, face scrunched up, belts: STAYSTAYSTAY I’ve b EEN LUH-VING YOU FOR QUITE SOME TIME- TI-HIME! YOU THINK THAT ITS FUNNEH WHEN I’M—OH MAN, I spilled batter on my shirt!”

The camera shakes with May’s silent laughter. Peter does not seem to notice. He looks side to side, almost as if he is looking for something to wipe the batter with, but there are no paper towels in sight and his shirt is dripping with the excess batter the size of his fist.

In the most compelling, and understandable, moment of decision making, Peter has chosen not to be responsible and strips instead, to the utter delight of seventeen-year old’s in the world (and ONLY those younger than that! Pedos, I swear to god, if I see you, I kill you, that last blog was the last time you make me burn my eyes!)—a wonderful set of abs and toned muscles you would not expect from a seventeen year old boy singing to Taylor Swift with the squeakiest voice in the world. Adorable. Ten points for my good boy ranks.

The video ends with Peter staring further at the shirt and licking at the batter before it violently cuts off to the roaring laughter of one May Parker]

It is peculiar, to watch May navigate the wonders of technology, too, because the first video was on her Facebook years unnoticed before Flash Thompson unearthed it for the world to see (Mr. Thompson, what exactly were your intentions going through a beautiful May Parker’s Facebook pictures?). But this time, she also apparently intended to send it to Peter’s friend’s Instagram account. However, the fluke came when she posted it and tagged them instead.

People who have followed her upon the first viral video have now decided it to be God’s work to distribute the video, making it viral within days. The very same people were the ones who noticed that Peter Parker’s singing style is the very same as Spider-Man’s.

I hear you gasp. Well, of course. I spit my tea as well, when I realized it too.

See, unless you were living under a rock, about a year ago, Spider-Man was exposed as a Taylor Swift fan when he saved a ten year old girl and began teaching her about the History and Influence of Swift’s discography and career, before proceeding to sing with her the hit song Speak Now. All of it was caught on camera, of course.

The people who spread this new video started a conspiracy theory that Spider-Man and Peter Parker are very similar people. One user @finn-man-the-aquaman pointed out that Spider-Man and Peter Parker’s voice are very similar. Another user @maxine_and_spider-man compared the dance moves from the two videos, putting frames of each steps beside each other, and found that it was so uncannily similar that it couldn’t have been a coincidence. It was an interesting point to make, because both Peter and Spider-Man had particular steps, all seemingly on a whim, but also matching each other perfectly. They are by no means good dancers, God no, but their whimsical dancing looks like two bad dancers following one choreography, couldn’t follow it technically but committed to it emotionally.

Twitter user @emiliar summarized it the best: the chest pump, the feet extension, the little jig, and the butt shake, before leaning backward and singing at the height of their emotions— apparently this is a common dance choreography?

To which @pissshitcry responded with a video that would bring us the wonderful breakthrough that I’ve been walking you all through.

[VIDEO uploaded by spidermansavedmetwice]

[Caption by @pissshitcry: No. Apparently: ]

[Video Description: Spider-Man is swinging through the buildings before stopping by Midtown High School, in front of a harried looking student, screaming frantically, and this is it folks: CAN YOU GIVE THIS TO NED LEEDS, TELL HIM SPIDER-MAN THANKS HIS FRIEND PETER! tHANKS! Before zipping away

Video ended]

Now. Okay. I know, calm down guys, I’m trying so hard not to run up the hills and do an Irish Jig, because I am so, so, so excited about all these new revelations! Nobody has quite documented this, too, so people, watch out for more of my content in a few weeks.

SO! Implication one: Spider-Man knows Ned Leeds.

Implication two: Peter Parker helped Spider-Man somehow.

Implication three: Spider-Man knows Peter Parker.

Cut, do it again, but with more emotions: SPIDER-MAN KNOWS PETER PARKER.

Let’s zoom back to a few weeks after the viral hits and Taylor Swift posts a video of her watching the video and then saying into the camera, with that iconic red lipstick and perfectly sculpted eyebrows: I have never thought this would be something that will happen to me in my career ever, but seeing a super-hero sing praises about me and teaching my [and she quotes from Spider-Man’s erratic explanation about her history] “unattainable song-writing prowess equal to that of the rock singing legends of ye old—” really does bring a smile to my face! More than that, Peter Parker is an absolute cutie too! He looks like such a sweetheart, baking those pancakes, apparently, for her aunt? Be sweet to your aunts guys! But also. I came here to cordially invite both Spider-Man and Peter Parker to come out to my concert in New York in two weeks! I’ll be there May 25th at the Lincoln Center, and maybe we can all sing together!”

She ends the video with the iconic Spider-Man wrist flip. The video has been circulated and has now gained over an estimated 100 million views.

It sparked a buzz of interest among the people, Peter Parker having received much of the spotlight. He hasn’t said anything in relation to Spider-Man but had reluctantly agreed to go to Swift’s invite. And I cannot emphasize the reluctant part. Kid looked so uncomfortable, but maybe he’s just shy!

Okay. Now, this thing is the most glaring indicator of what I will be telling you. The night of the concert. Everyone is there for Swift, but everyone is also there waiting for the much-awaited Spider-Man and Peter Parker saga. Halfway into her song list, Taylor Swift stopped to talk. The time has come.

Peter Parker walks into the stage, and the crowd welcomes him with adoring cheers, similar to Swift’s entrance herself. She introduces him, even though she absolutely does not need to, and the people scream their approval.

When Swift gives him his own mic, he almost drops it before catching it with his incredible reflexes. Swift calls for Spider-Man to reveal himself, much to the delight of the crowd, chanting his name as if it was a concert for him, which, in many ways, it kind of was. However, Spider-Man didn’t appear after that and the duo had to continue on.

It was a cute performance, with Parker stumbling a few times before getting the groove with Swift and belting it out as well. Everyone joins in on them singing and enjoying her old songs, Swift smiling and laughing the whole time.

Peter leaves the stage Spider-Man plushies and roses thrown for him, to which he received with a graceful bow. Swift resumes her concert after a few hearty jokes thrown in—but wait! What’s that?!

A screaming insect crashes at one of the large LED walls at the stage and the camera [and the collective crowd] is surprised to see the superhero—SPIDER-MAN!

“Ehehehe, hello Miss Taylor Swift, Ma’am!” He says, in a particularly deeper voice. Autotune? Before they sing it out, as they would—Swift laughing, and Spider-Man trying—Spider-Man explains that he was nervous meeting Peter Parker, before scrambling to correct that it was Swift he was nervous about meeting.

Swift then teases Spider-Man about a potential crush, which.

BRINGS US TO MY BREAKTHROUGH POINT.

TAYLOR SWIFT WAS ABOUT TO BRING US THE GAY COUPLE OF THE CENTURY, BUT SPIDER-MAN WAS TOO CHICKEN TO GET TO IT.

Okay, alright, I hate pedos, and we don’t exactly know Spider-Man’s age but we do know that he’s very young, what with all the pop culture references he’s been dropping with the intuition of an internet native. So, he’s young, alright? Possibly Gen-Z, even. Here’s a post you can see about his age analysis.

SPIDER-MAN. HAS. A. CRUSH. ON. PETER. PARKER.

[Insert hand chopping movements]

AND THEY ALMOST HAD A CUTE MOMENT ON STAGE HAD SPIDER-MAN BRAVED IT THROUGH.

PETER PARKER, AND I MEAN, PETER PARKER! SPIDER-MAN HAS A CRUSH ON YOU!

We’ve established that Spider-Man knows Peter Parker. They’ve met. Peter has possibly helped, or even saved Spider-Man himself. Now, saving a superhero is something that not just anybody does. And Parker himself is a student at Midtown Science High—he’s a smart kid! And seeing as these events just happened months apart, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to imagine them meeting again, perhaps, with Parker making pancakes in dewy mornings, and a tired (and yearning) Spider-Man is watching from the windows as Peter dances along to Swift’s songs.

The watching from the windows theory and thus getting to know the choreography might not be so creepy if you factor in the fact that Spider-Man might be hiding his crush for Parker’s safety!

It is like the modern incarnation of Super-Hero romance, only now, its more inclusive! To exist in such a beautiful world, and to watch such an innocent tale bloom in this cruel, cruel world. We could only hope to see more of them together, maybe as something... more?

COMMENTS:

reblogged by thunderstrike: this is like someone trying to overanalyze twilight for some depth—THERE ISN’T ONE!

thunderstrike reblogged by spidahmanna: come on, give them some credit at least for recounting the most batshit insane crossover in the universe as we know it so far

reblogged by skdfas: this person needs help, but very entertaining to read

reblogged by nedleads: oH MY GOD

reblogged by kliyon: new ship, age appropriate Spider-Man x Peter Parker

reblogged by ekeke: um yes, i need a dash of meet-cute with one cup of flavored angst—soda please, I like it to hurt— large fluff, a BFF serving of some of them yearning, and a happy sad-meal for one please.

reblogged by unaunann: im done with this site, who wants to burn the internet with me?

3, 000 reblogs in 1 day

Tony, reading the blog: Hmmm…

[Later]

Tony: Okay so I read this blog and I have remedied it.

Peter: Oh my god thankyoumisterstark I swear I didn’t mean to—

Tony: You are now the biggest shareholder for Spotify because I know you don’t want me to pay for a premium account, but if you’re gonna listen to those damn ads while singing to Taylor Swift, at least earn from it, you know?

Peter: …that’s what you took from the whole thing?

NEXT ARTICLE: The Avengers film a parody of Queen’s I Want To Break Free. Is Captain America is as beautiful as Rogerina, or is he too buff??? Tony Stark is an iconic drama queen, perfect for Freddie Mercury, and more!

#spider-man: far from home #Spider-Man: Homecoming #spiderman #taylor swift #tony stark #fluff #WHO WANTS A REACTION FROM THE AVENGERS FOR THIS #Spider-Man Identity reveal #parody #fake blog post #avengers #fanfiction

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deannastrois · 4 years

Text

to the end of the decade

I started this decade out…not great. And straight. I’m ending this decade maybe not perfect but accepting that I need to get better and working on it through therapy and drugs. And bi. So I’d say that’s at least something of a step up despite that I’ve had bad depressive episodes this year alone.

I also started this decade being a shadow in fandom, a lurker with nothing to say and not making friends. I’m ending it on a completely different note having actually begun creating and writing and having people on this site I’m more grateful for than anything. (and I’ll put my thanks to specific people under the cut cause I am nothing is not a weak, soft bitch at heart)

To all mutuals, thank you really for sticking around. I know I’m not the easiest to get along with and I hope to talk to some of you more at some point. I’m just so bad at it but <33333

@lembeau, I know things have been weird this year and that’s on me but at the end of the day you are always my forever girl and original otp. I don’t know how I would have gotten through some of the years without you, you’ve been my (salt)rock and best friend and everything in between. I hope things go well for you in the coming decade and know that I’ll always have your back and be immensely proud of what you’ve accomplished. I love you more than Eliza loves Goliath and in every universe the Middleman could ever give us.

@xsarahx, you were the very first person I started talking to and befriended on this site, even pre-musketeers days which is more of a throwback. We’ve come a long way from the Andrew Lee Potter days and I am always glad to talk to you about anything, including, of course, how comics have fucked up so badly these days. I’m with you till the end of the line, babe.

@sidewaystime, okay this one time I’m not gonna go with the red vs blue joke with your name I promise. Even if in my head I definitely am. Thank you for standing by all these years and I disastered my way through a career in computers, I’ll always appreciate someone knowing my absolute pain when it comes to users. Beyond that you’ve always got the best ideas for fandom aus and I love to hear them, especially if they’re old 90s fandoms. (and Canadian)

@sweetlyfez, remember back in the day when I was figuring out I was bi and it was all Constance’s fault? Well thank you for standing beside me as I figured that all out. And then laughing about it later because okay let’s be real, it is amusing in hindsight. You encouraged (and sometimes goaded) me on to writing femslash and I’ll never forget that.

@fonapola, we’ve come a long way from the musketeer-ing days. Who’d have thought our love our rare pairs would take us here but I’m glad we got there. Thank you for always letting me ramble on about those ideas and your own amazing ideas and fics and vids and everything when it came to that. You let a small thing grow large and kept the excitement going. Maybe one day we really will write our own thing together and have a shared world of sci fi and magic and someone clearly ready to be played by Howard Charles…Here’s hoping there’s more games I can drag you into it because I cannot wait.

@biportamis, oh Hannah I’d say I’m sorry for the million and one spams this year but that’s a lie and I’m not and if you’re gonna make me have musketeers feelings in 2019 then I’m gonna make you cry over Hawke. It’s equality. Jokes aside though I’m glad we always have those and holy shit you wrote a book!! Remember that?? That’s wild and I’m so proud of you for it, I can’t wait to see what you do this next decade.

@vulpyx, I am eternally grateful we got to talking and sharing fandom things, you’ve always been fun to talk to and I look forward to every pokemon game so we can make jokes about it and just be excited over it. And books! We need more good books, I hope that next Kyoshi one is gonna be good. I’m also really thankful that you’ve understood my anxiety and I wish I could help you with your own but know that I’m always here if you want to talk or need a distraction. <3

@waverly-earp, we have been through a lot of fandom madness together. Starting with AoS way back in the day and it just kept going. You’ve been a wonder through it all and an inspiration to make better gifs that look half as good as your beautiful edits. I love everything you create and wish this site wasn’t so terribly broken that it missed out on a good chunk of that stuff, but I hope you don’t stop because they always look so good. See you in the next decade with probably a dozen other fandom things to complain about (sorry not sorry)

@amandatapping, wild how quickly we bonded when it came to star trek but I’ll never regret that, the crazy things and injokes we ended up coming up with still make me laugh and you are the only person (aside from those femslash events) I’ll make ENT gifs for. Sorry I don’t love it like you do but I’m always willing to hear about how much you love it because it’s important to you and you’re important to me. #legged, baby!

@girlonthelasttrain, has it really only been two years since we started talking because it feels like we’ve been sharing memes forever. I’d say I’m sorry for spamming you with them but let’s be real, I’m not and it’s what Tidus would want. Truly a millennial icon. But really thank you so much for being around these past few years, I appreciate it every time you let me go on about my latest worries and panics and hyperfixations. I hope we get to share even more terrible memes over the next decade and I love you more than 13x7.

@alluringcliche, it’s been a while since the AoS days which really feels like it was already a decade ago but regardless I’m glad those days made us friends. Thank you for supporting me when I needed it and being there, I hope I could do the same when you needed it. I’m always down to talk about whedon shows even if joss has disappointed us terribly and this is our city now. All the best for the new year/decade and I hope to keep up more.

@dragoncharming, I was gonna call you my fandom backup but then that doesn’t feel like the right term but I also can’t think of the term to use when you’re always the person I count on to know if I’d love/hate something. You’re my guiding star for fandom, knowing where to steer me and what to steer me away from and I love you for it. I hope we get to play dnd together soon because that would be so exciting and thank you for everything.

@boydetective, oof I need to get better at texting more because I feel like I fell off the map this year and I’m sorry. I love getting to talk to you about small fandom-y things and sharing the wildness of KH and BNHA (aaaand I need to catch up again) and thank you for just rolling with it as I appear and disappear and I’m sorry about that. I’ll try to do better next decade.

@vulpixelates, thank you so much for letting me join a dnd group, it’s been a lot of fun and I am looking forward to meeting more of your characters in one shots and later on. And thanks for letting me ramble on about a million things and have Bi Panic about fifty times a year because that’s very real and I am very bad with it.

@adhd-athena, you know how next decade is starting with the KH DLC and it’s like…finally…some answers…. Well I bet we spend the next decade with just more questions and by the end of it we’ll finally have KH4. And even more questions. Regardless I’m looking forward to speculating all about that and DSC and other things with you, sorry for all the spams about those in advance I’m sure. Thank you for always listening <3

@malarkiness, I’m tempted to stick a picture of troi in here because that’s usually what I send to you and I have no regrets. Okay that’s a lie, I send you other things and I’m grateful I can always send you the most random things or rambling things and you just roll with it and amazingly haven’t blocked me yet. I hope we get to talk more about KH and FF and holy shit the remake is so close but it’s only like ¼ of it and Nomura what are you doing. (no one knows, not even him) All my love for you and the next decade of SquareEnix confusion.

@twilightacespect, it’s funny to think that I didn’t know you on this site until only about three years ago because it feels like we’ve always had this friendship. And by this friendship I mean you sending me cowboy things and me being haunted by them. Thanks beks. Okay okay, I love you a lot despite the cowboys. We’ve shared a lot of stuff and you’ve let me go on about a lot of fandom things and I’m sorry for the million and one spams over it when I hyperfixate on something we share. Except I’m not and suffer with me.

@organasoloskywalker, this year has been hard and I’ve said it a dozen times before but I wish I could be there with you. I’m always here for you though and I love you so much. Thanks for always being around to watch things with me and dragging into PGSM hell (“it’s a musical, you like those!” LIES LEXI, IT WAS PAIN) and a dozen other things. I hope we get to see each other sometime in the future and do a TAZ show or something but I’ll always be the voice on the other end of the line texting you pictures of my cat and loving Wedge Antilles. (and you) Also you know see you tonight for Fantasy High watching. <3

#and with that emotional display I'm just gonna go

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winterisakiller · 5 years

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Get Better - Chapter One

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 1/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do. This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list: @tinchentitri @theheartofpenelope @nonsensicalobsessions @blacksuitofdoom @noplacelikehome77 @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @wolfsmom1 @just-the-hiddles @theoneanna

CHAPTER ONE

The breeze ruffling through his hair as he walked down the busy London pavements was wonderfully cool; something Tom Hiddleston was infinitely grateful for. While it wasn’t a particularly scorching day for mid-August by any standard, it was still quite warm for London and any relief at all was welcome. As he meandered, Tom found himself watching the people around him as they passed. Most paid him little mind or, if they did, only muttered quietly under their breath but made no effort to approach him. It was a marked difference from the previous few years, and a welcomed one. True, there was still the occasional paparazzo or bold fan, but it was nothing like it had been in recent years. And he was grateful for the relative anonymity.

He’d been surprised, but happy, when Ben had called out of the blue the week before, trying to arrange a time for the two of them to get together and ‘catch up’. Which, as Tom had come to learn, meant Ben had wanted nothing more than to grill him about his life and then try to fix it. Tom adored the man but he was a mother hen in the absolute worst way; settling down and having children only made it worse. It had been several months since they’d had the chance to truly sit and reconnect in a non-work related setting and, though he knew it would probably regret giving Ben the platform in which to undertake said interrogation, Tom was quick to agree. Finding the time however, took a fair bit of maneuvering.

Tom slowed his pace as the familiar house came into view. He smiled as he buzzed the gate, noting how a small cash of toys including a red plastic tricycle had started to take over the front garden. It was a comforting and domestic sign and it fit his friend’s life to a tee. Ben’s garbled voice echoed from the small speaker and a moment later the gate clicked open. Tom quickly made his way up the walk and towards the opened front door where Ben now stood, his eldest clinging to his leg, small blonde head peeking out from behind the tall form of his father.

For a moment Tom was struck dumb by the sight. He could so clearly remember the utter joy and disbelief in Ben’s voice when he called to announce that Sophie had given birth. “A boy, Tom. I have a son.” It was nearly impossible to reconcile the tiny infant that had been placed in his arms a few days after that call with the small boy before him. He would be three now. Three? How had three years passed already?

Crouching down on his heels, Tom smiled at the boy now at eye level. “Hello there, little man. You’ve grown quite a bit haven’t you?”

The boy blinked at Tom and then up at his father before running back into the house. Ben sighed and shook his head. “Sorry. He’s been going through this shy phase as of late. Usually, you can’t get him to stop wanting to say ‘hello’ to everyone.”

Tom shrugged and pushed himself back up right, “My niece went through something similar. I get it.” He took Ben’s outstretched hand and pulled him into a one armed hug. “It’s good to see you, mate. How have you been?”

Ben chuckled as he closed the door and led them towards the living room. “Can’t complain overly much. I’ve got a fair bit of free time before I start filming so I’m trying to enjoy as much time as I can here with this lot.”

A loud cry echoed from the living room as they approached and moments later a slightly harried Sophie emerged carrying her squirming and fussy youngest son. She smiled brightly as she caught sight of Tom. “Well hello stranger!”

Tom’s face broke into an echoing smile and he moved to pull Sophie into a brief embrace, kissing her softly on the cheek. “Hello you. And don’t tell me this is…” Tom paused, eyes widening, as Sophie nodded. “He can’t be this big already!”

Both Sophie and Ben laughed at this. “He’s almost a year now. Time certainly seems to fly,” she sighed before turning to look at her husband. “Alright, I’m off. You boys have fun and remember if you need a break, you’re more than welcome to join me and our little terrors at the park.”

Balancing her youngest son against one hip, bending down to take her eldest son’s hand as he materialized at her side at the word ‘park’, which he then repeated loudly before launching into an explosion of words about the swings and the slide and all the activities he wanted to do. Sophie smiled indulgently at him and headed towards the front door, pausing to kiss Ben as she did so. Tom saw her grab a bag that had been left by the door, something he’d missed on his own way inside, and in a flurry of noise disappear from the house.

“Ah…Silence,” Ben exhaled with a quiet laugh, turning towards Tom. “I love them dearly, honestly I do. But I do admit that there are times I miss silence.”

“Now that I can believe,” Tom agreed with a smirk “And I’ve often heard my sisters’ make very similar remarks...” Causing both men to laugh and shake their heads. After several moments silence, he clapped his hands together. “So I do believe I was promised lunch…”

Which earned him an exaggerated eye roll. “I see how it is, Hiddleston. And I must say I am genuinely hurt to hear that my company ranks beneath food for you. If only your fans could see you now; gentleman, my left foot.”

Tom only shrugged in response. “I’m a man of simple needs.”

Lunch was a causal affair; Ben had thrown together a handful of sandwiches and various sides under the watchful eyes of his wife and the greedy hands of his eldest. They sat at the scarred wooden table in the kitchen and traded stories, catching up on the last few months of each other’s lives. Tom found himself relaxed and content in Ben’s company. They so rarely got the chance to do such things; work and the everyday happenings of life taking up so much of their time.

Ben rambled in his usual fashion about his latest filming experience and the trials and tribulations of being a father to two young boys. He joked about the latest project he was in talks for and the drawing his eldest had made him, “He swears up and down it’s a cat, but for the life of me I cannot see it.”

The drawing in question hung on the fridge held up with two cheery yellow magnets. And no matter how Tom squinted at it, he couldn’t make out what the squiggly blob was either and told him so. Ben laughed and shook his head.

“So what’s new in the life of the infamous Tom Hiddleston?” Ben inquired with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Tom leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “I’ve got a few conventions scheduled in the States,” he paused and rubbed his over his beard in thought. “And a couple fun one off theater activities…And potentially a play if things continue to fall into place. So quite a bit actually. Which is nice. I’ve been starting to get rather antsy of late.”

Ben nodded. “Now that I can understand all too well.” He leaned forward and smiled at Tom in the way that always meant trouble. “And anything happening in the non-working vein, my friend?” And there it was, the long awaited subtle-not-so-subtle pry into his personal life. He’d known it was coming. It always did. But he’d remained ever hopeful Ben would let it slide. Just once. Alas, today was not to be that day.

“You’re lack of subtlety never ceases to astound me,” Tom chuckled, resting his elbows on the table. Ben merely shrugged and leaned back, shooting Tom a knowing look. They sat in silence for several moments before Tom let out a resigned sigh and admitted, “Nothing of note.”

He had been on a few one off dates and more than a few ‘my friend knows this wonderful girl I think you’d really get on with’. They were, as a rule of thumb, lovely people and quite a few Tom had genuinely liked, but in the end nothing seemed to stick. It had been disheartening, but not at all surprising. His life, even now when things had calmed significantly, had made anything beyond casual difficult to maintain. And he’d learned the hard way trying to force something only ended in disaster.

“What about that one girl…Hannah, was it? You seemed to get on fine with her…”

Tom shrugged, “Hollie, actually. And it fizzled out.” He leaned back in his own chair, running his hand over his eyes. She’d been a charming woman and they’d gotten on well, but she’d had…expectations of his time that he hadn’t been able to meet. His schedule, while very much slowed, still kept him relatively busy and had cut into time with Hollie, something she had not appreciated. So they had parted ways after a handful of weeks. “Sometimes I wonder if any of it is actually worth the effort.”

“Stuff and nonsense. You and I both know you don’t believe that for a moment.”

“Just because things worked for you doesn’t make it so across the board,” Tom pointed out, taking a long swallow from his bottle of water. “Not everyone in our line of work gets so lucky. I’ve been home more now in the last few years than I have for most of my adult life, which is all well and good. But as a general rule, my life isn’t exactly settled and nor is it easy. And I don’t know too many non-industry women who’d be perfectly content to be with a bloke who’s rarely home or one whose life is picked apart and therefore puts their own into that domain.” He shrugged, placing his bottle back onto the table. “That just leaves fellow actors and the like and I’ve had more than enough experience with how that can go wrong to want to subject myself or any potential partner to that any time soon.”

Ben grimaced. “Things weren’t ever really going to work with that relationship and I think you knew that from the start.”

Tom opened his mouth to deny Ben’s words but quickly let it fall shut. That relationship was over long before it had really gotten the chance to start. But his own stubbornness and determination hadn’t let him walk away. He’d known shortly after their initial meeting that this thing that had sparked between them would never work. But he’d perused it anyway, blindly seeking something real. It had been a reaction to Amy’s wedding, to seeing her happy and settled and wanting that so desperately for himself. He knew that now, but then…He’d let himself it caught up in the rush of emotion and hadn’t paused once to really think what he was doing. And it had ended just as quickly as it had begun and just as publicly.

He’d dealt with the confused stares and the whispered conversations from friends and family alike. Dealt with the backlash and the blatant mocking and ridicule of the press and from the fan base. It was a reaction he hadn’t expected and at first didn’t know how to handle. And looking back, Tom wondered just how he’d navigated through it all and come out as unscathed as he had.

Ben leaned forward and rested his hand on Tom’s forearm. “I get that you’re a fair bit jaded and not exactly convinced, but don’t simply write it off. The most spectacular things happen when you least expect them to. Look at me. I’d known Sophie for years. We’d cross paths and almost dance around each other but nothing ever came of it. Until it did. And it’s been wonderful.” Tom quirked an eyebrow and Ben paused and laughed. “I’m not saying it’s been easy because lord knows it’s been trying at times, but I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.” He clapped Tom on the shoulder. “It’ll happen, mate. Just give it time.”

Tom shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I’ve never known you to be a pessimist, my friend.”

Tom shook his head, “Not pessimism, more trying to be realistic about it.” He waved off Ben’s protestations. “It’s fine, honestly. I’ve got a pretty decent life going, if I do say so myself. And if something ever does happen…Well that would be grand, but I’m not waiting with baited breath over it either.”

Ben simply shrugged and the matter had been dropped. Tom had let himself sit, idly talking with Ben for another hour; only taking his leave when Sophie and the boys had returned in mass, both little ones tired and cranky from their adventures. Sophie had stuck her head into the kitchen on her way upstairs to settle the children down for their afternoon nap, “I see my darling husband hasn’t scared you off just yet.”

Tom laughed heartily, “Nah, takes more than a bit of nosing about to send me running for the hills. But,” he started, stretching as he stood from the table. “It is about time I was off. Bobby’s been in the back garden and I really should check and make sure he’s not dug himself to China or ruined the flowering bushes…Again.” Both Ben and Sophie laughed. “I will see you lot, later then?” The nodded their ascent and Tom made his way out the front door and back into the pleasantly sunny and warm London afternoon.

The walk home had been just as uneventful as the walk there had been, allowing him time to mull over his talk with Ben. It was the same thing, just with slightly different wrapping around it, and while he knew his friend meant well, talking only made the differences in their respective lives all the more apparent. Tom let out a long sigh of frustration as he turned onto his street, determined to put it out of his mind. There were far too many things needing settled in his life to even contemplate any of that. He managed to smile and wave at one of his neighbors as he climbed his front stairs, unlocking and pushing in the black lacquered front door. The foyer was markedly cool and the sudden temperature change sent a shiver down his spine.

Bobby, thankfully, hadn’t dug up the back garden. The spaniel, thrilled at both his master’s return and the prospect of going back into the house, had jumped and barked like mad, running in tight little circles around Tom’s feet before dashing inside. Tom laughed despite himself. His life, though not quite how he’d pictured it, was decent and more than fulfilling. So it wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

Next Chapter

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x orignal character #get better fic #Tom and Cath

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winterisakillerwrites · 4 years

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Get Better - Chapter One

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 1/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen

CHAPTER ONE

Crouching down on his heels, Tom smiled at the boy now at eye level. “Hello there, little man. You’ve grown quite a bit haven’t you?”

“Ah…Silence,” Ben exhaled with a quiet laugh, turning towards Tom. “I love them dearly, honestly I do. But I do admit that there are times I miss silence.”

“Now that I can believe,” Tom agreed with a smirk “And I’ve often heard my sisters’ make very similar remarks…” Causing both men to laugh and shake their heads. After several moments silence, he clapped his hands together. “So I do believe I was promised lunch…”

Tom only shrugged in response. “I’m a man of simple needs.”

“So what’s new in the life of the infamous Tom Hiddleston?” Ben inquired with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“What about that one girl…Hannah, was it? You seemed to get on fine with her…”

“Stuff and nonsense. You and I both know you don’t believe that for a moment.”

Ben grimaced. “Things weren’t ever really going to work with that relationship and I think you knew that from the start.”

Tom shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I’ve never known you to be a pessimist, my friend.”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom & Cath #Get Better

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littledarlinwrites · 5 years

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Black Velvet Miniseries

Part 2: You Can’t Always Get What You Want

Black Velvet Miniseries Masterlist

Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Photographer!Reader

Word Count: 3041

Author’s Note: This is for @kentuckybarnes 3K Writing Challenge. Hannah, you are too awesome for words! Also, special thanks to my wonderful beta reader @lokissoul for reading and editing and reminding me that I am more than my errors, I am eternally grateful! Also I goofed and forgot to tag @star-spangled-bingo to cover the space in my bingo card for Rockstar AU when I posted cause college (I swear I’ll do better at this in the future, this one just escaped me).

Summary: Bucky is anxious about the bands interview with Shield Magazine. Will his interview be more than about his arm? And what happens when he meets a certain photographer for the magazine?

Warnings: A smidge of angst in the beginning, drinking, and puns.

Adrenaline was pumping through Bucky’s veins as he walked with the others backstage to put their instruments away. The show had gone off without a hitch. Bucky couldn’t even feel the phantom pain in his shoulder anymore, whether that was due to the adrenaline or not he had no clue. He lifted the strap to his red bass from his shoulder and put the guitar into its case. Bucky lifted the bottom of his faded black t-shirt to his face to wipe off his sweat covered face.

“Man, I broke four drumsticks, that was awesome!” Clint said excitedly.

“Barton, only you would be excited about breaking a part of your instrument.” Tony replied with a smirk as he walked over to the group. Clint’s only response was a shit eating grin.

“Alright, all of you have an interview and pictures to take with people from Shield Magazine. They’re are waiting for you at the bar. If you want to change, I suggest you do so now and quickly.” Pepper spoke to the group. Before she could even finish her sentence Natasha was bolting for the shower on the bus. Bucky didn’t blame her since he was the only person in the group that had longer hair like hers, and nothing felt more gross after a show than sweaty hair sticking to your neck. He made his way to the bus with everyone and waited for the shower while the others changed. As Bucky waited for the shower he had time to think of the interview. The adrenaline must have left his system because he felt himself getting more and more nervous. He had never been interviewed by a magazine before. What kind of questions were they going to ask? Were they going to ask about his arm? People always did when they saw it, or else they would stare at it. It was why he always wore layers or at least long sleeves. The longer he thought about it, the more his shoulder would hurt. He didn’t get phantom pains too often anymore. The therapy he had to complete helped with that. However, Bucky had found that whenever he got too stressed out, particularly about his shoulder or the accident, the phantom pain would reappear. As if he needed another reminder of what he lost.

“Earth to Bucky. You okay?” Natasha stood in front of him, her hand on his flesh shoulder.

“Uh, yeah. Just nervous about the interview I guess and kinda zoned out. I’m fine. Meet you out there?” Bucky asked as he was practically closing the bathroom door. He didn’t want to talk about it. He was done talking about how the accident still haunted him. He hadn’t left his apartment more than necessary since, and he hadn’t even talked to girl besides Pepper or Natasha. Bucky took off his shirt and did the one thing he typically avoided. He looked in the mirror. His shoulder had healed but it had left angry scars behind. Some from himself when he would have nightmares about the accident and Steve would have to wake him up with his flesh hand pinned down to his side. He had started sleeping with a t-shirt on to try to keep himself from clawing at his shoulder from there on out. Bucky screwed his eyes shut and took a couple deep breaths. He turned around before opening his eyes and finished getting undressed and showered.

Bucky threw on a pair of ripped jeans after his shower and his favorite red henley. The fabric of the shirt irritated his scars the least and it covered his arm. He nearly grabbed his leather jacket, but decided against it knowing he would get way too warm inside the crowded venue. Slowly, he made his way into the venue to get the interview over with and hoped to god that they wouldn’t ask about the accident or his arm. When Bucky walked up to the bar at the concert venue he saw Clint talking to a woman with long brown hair and a pen in her hands.

“Nice shirt.” Bucky over heard the woman say with a smirk on her face. Bucky glanced at the shirt Clint had changed into. The words “save a drum, bang a drummer” printed across his chest.

“Thanks, and for the record, if I were a drum I'd let you bang me all night long!” Clint replied to the woman with a wink. Bucky chuckled and then let out a sigh of relief. He knew nothing he would say in his interview could be as cringe worthy as that. Bucky sat down at the bar waiting for Clint’s interview to be over and ordered three shots of tequila to further calm his nerves. When he was about to down the third he noticed a woman so beautiful that he nearly choked swallowing the burning liquid. He couldn’t even see half of your face since it was hidden behind the camera in her hands, but he knew just from your eyes that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Bucky’s nerves skyrocketed for the umpteenth time that night. Then he saw you pull your camera away from your face and let it hang from the strap around your neck. You looked directly at Bucky and sent him a shy smirk that took his breath away. Then you started walking towards him. In that moment, Bucky knew he was screwed.

“So, you’re the elusive bassist.” you said. Bucky decided in that moment that your voice was the most beautiful thing he had heard in his life. Realizing you had asked a question, he cocked his head slightly with a smile ghosting his lips.

“I’m sorry, elusive?” Bucky was confused, had he missed something?

“Your, uh, friend Steve. He went to introduce you to us and couldn’t find you. If I hadn’t seen you on stage myself, with pictures to prove it, I probably would have believed that you were just his Snuffleupagus.” You said with a giggle.

“Ya know, I’ve been called a lot of things, ‘Snuffleupagus’ definitely isn’t one of them.” Bucky replied with a teasing grin on his face before he broke out into a chuckle.

“Oh really? Would one of those things happen to be your name? Steve never got around to introducing you since you poofed on him. I mean, I’m fine with calling you Mr. Snuffleupagus if you’d like.” You were teasing him now, but he seemed game for it. There was something about this man that was bring you out of your shell. It terrified you, but something about him calmed you too.

“Just Snuffleupagus will do. No, I’m kidding! Uh, my friends call me Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you said with a shy smile on your face that Bucky found absolutely adorable. “Darn, Snuffleupagus was kinda growing on me.”

“You two need anything to drink?” The bartender asked since she had a moment to come down and check on the of you.

“Uhm, I’ll have what he’s having.” You reply to the bartender as you hop onto the stool next to Bucky’s.

“She’ll have a screaming orgasm.” Bucky said nearly causing you to choke on your saliva. The bemused look on your face caused Bucky to chuckle. You looked up at the man and saw the shit eating grin on his face that told you he was pulling your leg. “I’m kidding, can we get two shots of tequila each, please?” The bartender gave a nod before pouring the shots and walking away to check on the other patrons.

“Screaming orgasm, huh?” You tried to school the look on your face to one that looked unamused with his joke.

“Sorry, I had to get back at you for calling me imaginary! The opportunity presented itself and I couldn’t resist!” Bucky replied trying to repress the chuckle at the scowl on your face. He could tell you were only pretending to be mad at him for the fact you were actively trying not to smile. “Forgive me?” He said with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Hmmm, on one condition.” You said with an evil smirk forming on your face.

“Name it.” Bucky said before downing the first shot.

“Give me your best pick up line, because that one was way too easy and you know it.” Bucky rose his hand to his chin, stroking it as if he were in deep thought before letting out a chortle.

“Call me AC/DC, because I’m gonna leave you shook all night long.” You had to bite back a laugh at the classic rock song reference, but a giggle managed its way past your lips.

“Well, then you can call me Scorpion, because I’m gonna rock you like a hurricane.” You replied back with your own classic rock reference that caused Bucky’s eyes to light up before he burst into a laugh. You couldn’t help but laugh with him. You also couldn’t help but notice that you loved the sound of his laugh and that you would gladly continue sharing cheesy pick up lines if it meant that you could hear him laugh more. The smile that formed on his face caused your heart to flutter.

You took one of your shots to distract yourself. You managed to swallow the shot without coughing at the burning sensation that engulfed your throat, however you didn’t manage to hide your face scrunching up. Bucky saw the way your face scrunched up after downing the shot and knew he had never seen something so adorable.

“So, I may have been elusive earlier, but you’ve managed to elude from telling me your name. Unless, of course, you really want me to call you ‘Scorpion.’”

“Oh god, no thank you. My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N. It’s pretty like you.” Bucky said causing you to blush. The sight of your flushed cheeks caused his heart to flutter in his chest like a hummingbird. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, what drew you to photography?” Bucky asked you and you could tell he was genuinely curious.

“Well, when I was about seventeen I would go see local bands play around town and I ended up falling in love with concerts. I noticed that there’s this moment that if you stop paying attention to the band and look around you can see the magic of it all. Everyone is jammed into the tight space listening to their favorite band play and for however long the bands set lasts the world can’t touch anyone in the room. For that set nobody’s problems exist. It’s just magical. Anyway, I always loved music, but I never had any musical talent. After a couple of shows I ended up finding my groove and getting some good shots, enough that the band members liked them and used them. After that I knew that that was what I wanted to do.” You rambled out as you felt heat rush to your face. No one had ever asked why you chose photography, though they always managed to give you their unwarranted opinions. So you had never told anyone your reasoning, and suddenly you felt a bit self conscious telling Bucky. You hadn’t realized it, but during your explanation you had let your eyes drop down to the shot glasses in front of you. It wasn’t until you finished speaking that you looked up to see the enamored look on Bucky’s face. Really if anyone understood, it would probably be him. You couldn’t keep track of how many times you heard someone in the arts say how they were discouraged from their profession.

“You know, I thought I was the only who would actually take the time to look out into the crowd to see that. It really is magical. Easily my favorite part of the night to be honest.”

“So, uhm, why did you become a bassist?”

“Steve and I were always getting into some sort of trouble, he got picked on because before he hit puberty he was probably the scrawniest kid you’d ever seen. That never stopped him from standing up for the little, even though he was literally a little guy, and I always had his back. Well, my uncle actually had a guitar and a bass guitar in his garage and my ma had told him what was going on. So in an effort to help her and keep up out of trouble he taught us how to play. Steve was a natural at the guitar so I picked up the bass. Then whenever I would get stressed or anxious about something or whenever I just needed to escape life I would just pull out my bass guitar and start strumming. Eventually we ran into Clint, he always had a pair of drumsticks on him and we asked him to join us. Steve doesn’t play unless he’s playing acoustic now since we found Thor, and we heard Natasha singing one day and playing guitar in the band room while we were in high school and we asked if she would want to join a bunch of dudes in a rock band. We’ve all been inseparable ever since.”

“Wow. Really though, Steve? Scrawny?” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at your bemusement. He couldn’t fault you for it either, during high school Steve bulked up. If Bucky hadn’t witnessed it he probably wouldn’t believe it either.

“Yeah, I got pictures I could show you back at my ma’s.”

“There’s evidence? Now this I’ll have to see!” Bucky couldn’t help but love your wit. He was laughing more tonight than he had in the last year and half. It wasn’t until you cocked your head slightly that Bucky realized he had just been staring at you for a bit too long.

“Ya know doll, I don't know how many times you've thrown me off-beat by being next to me.” For a second Bucky panicked. He had no idea why he had said that. It was the truth, but he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He panicked not wanting to look like an idiot and said the first thing that had come to mind. It wasn’t until you giggled with a blush on your face that he let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh really? Well in that case, I bet we could get in some serious treble together if we aren’t careful.” You replied with a wink.

“Ya know, I haven’t laughed this much in a while.” Bucky admitted honestly. The admission broke your heart. You knew about the accident, that he had lost his arm. You had actually attended the show that night and had seen him play. It was one of your rare nights off when a band was playing. You couldn’t begin to imagine what that night, and every day after must have been like for him, but you were glad he was here in front of you now.

“Ya know, they say laughing adds eight minutes on to your life.”

“Hey Y/N, can I grab you for a sec?” The woman that was talking to Clint walks up to the two of you.

“Uh, sure Laura. Just a sec Bucky.” You told him, not wanting to leave. He nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“So the bar closes in like five minutes. Is there any chance that while the two of you were flirting you got anything for a quote I could use?”

“Laura! Okay, one, you were flirting with Clint and don’t you dare deny it. Two, maybe, but I’d rather ask him first.”

“You’re the best! So, you gonna give him your number?” You thought on it for a minute before you decided.

“Do you have the flyer for their next show on you still?”

“Yeah.” She said as she began digging through her bag for the flyer and a pen. “Here ya go.” You took the flyer and pen and twirled your finger for her to turn around so you could use her back to write on. You quickly wrote on the flyer before folding it up and handing Laura back her pen.

“Thanks Laur’, you’re the best!” You told her as you walked back to the bar.

“Hey, uhm, Bucky?”

“What’s up, doll?”

“Laura meant to interview you, but she ran out of time, do you mind if I use the seeing out into the crowd thing as a quote from you for her?” Bucky noticed the folded up paper in your hands and for a moment he was disappointed, he was hoping you were gonna ask if he wanted your number.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Bucky told you, a smile of relief flooding your features. “Doll?”

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, really appreciated tonight,” Bucky said as he rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh hand. “Do you think, I could see you again sometime?” He managed to mumble out the words quickly before he lost what little nerve he had. His heart rate picked up when he saw the playful smirk on your face. You took another two steps closer so you were standing between his legs. You could smell the faint scent of his shampoo. You put a hand on his arm while the other hand slipped the folded up flyer into his pocket. You leaned up so your lips were close to his ear.

“You can’t always get what you want.” You whispered as you stepped back with the mirk still on your face and a look of confusion on his. You winked at him before walking back to join Laura and head to the office to work on the article.

Bucky sat there completely confused. He realized you slipped something into his right pocket and pulled it out. Before he opened it he realized you had touched his prosthetic arm and neither of you were phased. For the first time in a long time, Bucky felt normal. He carefully opened the piece of paper with shaky hands. It was the flyer for their next show for the day after tomorrow. The date, time and venue were circled, and written below in slightly messy handwriting was ‘but if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.’

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moonlit-nightingale · 4 years

Text

.:RP:. Cursed

Warning(s): Trigger warnings for suicide and blood.

Characters: Saranqerel ‘Sari’ Qalli (male Xaela), Akio Obinata (male Xaela), Botan Kurenai (female Raen)

Origin Date: 22 Feb 20

“Death is easy. To live is the most painful thing I could imagine and I’m weak and no longer willing to fight.” —Hannah Wright

Everything is in place. Sari has left his farewell letters and wrapped up his affairs. And so he goes to depart in the quietest way. Though a new friend picks up the signs too late...perhaps the Qalli’s story isn’t over yet.

(Note: This is from an RP session. So there is a back and forth of writers. A - in between paragraphs indicate a change in narrator.)

< Hingan >

> Xaelic <

----

A letter and small box would have been left outside Akio's room a sennight after his and Sari's last talk. Enclosed within the envelope are two documents. One is a letter, one is an official document endorsed by a Gridanian embassy, complete with a corn-yellow seal. It states that Akio is, legally, Enqtani’s legal guardian. There is also a small box like those used to sell the tokens at the charm counter.

My friend,

I know we haven’t known each other long so please forgive my selfish requests especially after I’ve placed such a burden on your shoulders. Enqtani is loved by many at the temple, however I haven’t seen her attach to anyone as closely as you. It has been a short time but a child just knows. The sealed document is official documentation that you are now Tani’s guardian. It may just be a piece of paper but with it I’m trusting you to look after her best interests in my absence.

You have been kind and a wonderful friend. And I have the utmost faith that you will be a kind and wonderful father for Tani. You mentioned once that she should know her roots. There is little to tell. I found her abandoned on the Steppe during a hunt. All I can surmise is that she was a child conceived unwillingly. She has features or the Oronir tribe which were once the leaders of the Steppe and still hold themselves in high authority over others. Not all of them are bad but it is a privileged tribe. I expect you can follow my path in thinking of what may have occurred. If Tani wants to see the Steppe with her own eyes one day, seek out Khenbish of the Buduga at the town of Reunion. He is a healer and a good man. If you can’t find him, search for Yesulun of the Qestir and her mate Khaljar of the Oronir. They are among my dearest friends even if we have parted ways. Unfortunately I am unsure of their whereabouts but their names should be known in Reunion.

Ah, but I’ve rambled on. I wish to make this process as easy as possible for you. Please rely on the others if needed. Mr. Aoki is a stern man but he has looked after Tani many times when I needed assistance.

It is little payment for what I ask for you, but I hope this gift is acceptable. Thank you, Akio, and I thank you on behalf of Tani.

Winds carry you,

-S.Q.

Inside the box, carved from a reddish wood, was a crane. Its wings are spread, every feather meticulously detailed in its carving despite the small size as its long neck and head were raised high in a cry. The figure could rest on a grown man’s palm.

Akio's shift for guard duty had ended earlier than expected, that night. And though he was tired, the Eastern Xaela had been in a surprisingly good mood, that ever-present smile a little more genuine as he took long, measured strides to his quarters. A good night's rest after some meditation sounded absolutely splendid to the man.

The presence of the letter and box caused the samurai to pause, however, tail quivering just slightly in alarm as he watched it with keen black eyes. But with heightened guard, there was little worry of it being any sort of trap or bait; he kneeled, slowly, picking it all up and entering his room.

In the privacy of his quarters, he allowed the mask to slip from his face; a frown pulled at his expression as he opened the box, looking over the figure with a delicate awe, and then the letter, reading over the words swiftly.

What laced through his blood could only be described as ice-cold panic as he realized what these words meant.

A Hingan snarl dropped from his lips as he spun around on his heel, movement swift as he threw open the door and bolted down the hall towards Sari's quarters. No doubt the man would want to do it there; the clinic was far too impersonal, and even from their short time, he knew Sari would never wish to inconvenience the clinic staff or distress the patients there.

Thank the Kami he was relieved when he was- it gave him some small hope that this time he may not be too late.

But no, the room would be empty if he should knock and try to enter. The wards' rooms couldn't be locked. It was part of the temple's design. Why would a ward of this place have secrets to hide? The futon would be folded neatly in a corner and the room immaculate. Sari never really had too many personal effects and it seemed even those were gone.

The only thing left was a small bundle of letters, left for whoever may have peeked their head in.

Another swear, and he turned on his heel, heading for the clinic itself. If Sari wasn't in there... He had no idea where to look. But he wouldn't stop looking.

His rush nearly made the clinic's night time attendant eep loudly. There was something about an empty clinic in the dead of the night just just spooked this particular Auri young lady.

"Obinata-san, kami help me." She rested a hand over her chest.

Akio paused, examining the lady for a long moment; the mask was back on in an instant, though the smile was strained, showing just how much of a rush she was in.

"Have you seen Sari-san?" he asked quickly, tone leaving little room for questions.

That tone has the girl nearly eep once more. She shook her head. "Ah, I mean, he came in earlier for a few moments to tidy up and then left about a bell ago."

Tidy up? Why on earth would he need to tidy up the clinic?

"Did he say where he was going? This is- he must be found." He'd apologize to the poor girl properly later- no doubt he was an intimidating sight, agitated as he was.

"He is planning to kill himself."

She covered her mouth at those words. "Sari-san? But..." He was always so kind! And quick to help when she'd taken over the clinic duties just a sennight ago!

"I-I don't know. I thought he was going to visit a patient because he took supplies for the intravenous bags!"

"Intra..."

Akio murmured as he went over the word in his mind, taking a moment to translate it before another swear fell from his lips. Without another word to the poor attendant, he spun on his heel and ran out. Where could he be?!

Perhaps he left the temple grounds? But if he did, it made it nearly impossible to find him. Unless...

But Jebe never left Sari's side, and so the little bluebird would be little help, even if Akio could find the bird in time to find Sari to keep him from doing the irreversible. Damn it...

His mind was racing as he ran through the temple grounds, searching for any clues to where the Qalli might have gone.

As he went by the gardens, there was angry chirping nearby. At this time of the evening? Odd. It was near the small pond where Sari often took Tani to play when she had excess energy.

The bluebird was puffed in anger, flying about the small cage propped up on a rock. It was placed near the walkway, enough that some attendant would have found it the next morning and not endangering the small bird at all.

Akio froze when his horn caught the angry chirping, head snapping over.

The Kami were merciful this day! He rushed over, kneeling down with a soft clicking noise as he fiddled with the latch to open the cage.

"<I am here,>" he said quickly, throwing the cage door open for the little bird. "<Take me to him.>"

Oh angry birb was angry. He instantly dive-bombed Akio's face before flying off at a surprisingly quick pace down the stone path that led out of the temple.

Akio made a short 'pbbth' sound out of reflex. Hey, he was trying to save the man!

But he didn't have time to be offended at the little angry puffball, instead darting after Jebe as fast as the two of them could go.

How could such a small lil blue puffball be so quick? Jebe darted over Shirogane's infrastructure, heading down the slopes towards the beaches. Even then he still flew, heading away from the beach chairs, the awnings, away from what would populated areas in the day.

The beach... Water...?

It would be out of the way, for certain, leaving it near impossible to find the body. Was that what he'd wanted?

Akio was nearing breathless as he kept on the tail feathers of the small bird, eyes searching for the Qalli in an almost desperate fashion.

Rocks dotted the sand in some of the more remote parts, harder to climb and navigate over, rougher terrain.

And that's where Sari sat motionless. He was leaning against one of the rocks facing the water. The IV line ran to that flesh arm, put in with an expert hand. The sedative bag he'd stolen weeks ago was empty, rigged up over a stick.

At least he could watch the water he enjoyed under the silvery light of the moon as he’d fallen asleep.

No no no no no no no no!

Akio felt as if he'd been kicked in the chest by An Yeung, breath leaving him in a wheeze as he scaled over the rocks. Normally, he wouldn't have so much as slipped, but tonight he stumbled once or twice, hands flying out to keep himself moving forward.

"<What have you DONE?!>"

The question came out in Hingan, far harsher than he'd meant it, a near roar as he slid to one knee next to the Qalli. The damnable idiot! The stupid... Poor, pained man.

Akio knew better than to let anger lead him to blame. He knew what this was like. But Sari deserved better. To die like this....

"<You're not dying tonight!>" he hissed sharply.

But it appeared to be far too late. Sari was a healer of both traditional and aetherial means. He knew well enough of what would happen with a fast drip of a sedative of this nature. A sleepy death, far more peaceful than what he'd deserved. No mess for others to worry about if his body was found.

He hoped no one found him. That those letters were enough.

But those hopes were gone. His breathing had stilled, no rise and fall of his chest under the Eastern cloth. Silvery hair obscured most of his face, that one eye closed, head lulled against the rock and his shoulder.

Akio had been too late, by far, it seemed.

No...

Once more, Akio found himself holding a body in his arms, the Xaela quick to gather the Qalli to him as he tried to check for his pulse, his breathing, anything. Teeth gritted against an all-too familiar pain, he snarled, tail lashing against the sand and rocks. Fingers curled into the fabric, head lowered as long blonde locks fell over both his own face and Sari's chest, forehead pressed to his still breast.

"<No, please,>" he whispered, pleading, begging. It was all far too familiar, and the mask cracked, old wounds bleeding once more as he hunched there.

"<You silent, selfish fool.>"

He knew it wouldn't be heard. Knew the Qalli wouldn't be able to retort.

"<What of Enqtani?!>" he yelled now. "<You were her father! No one will replace you in her life!>"

It was quiet for once.

A quiet he used to only be able to find in the peace of the Shroud's embrace, days on his own in the Twelveswood. Soon though, even that place became haunted to his memories. There was always...something. Something to drag the Xaela back to the dark.

So he'd given up fighting it. Fell into sin and the bottle without care.

And it was why he finally had the resolve to fade away. He was a ghost. No one would care. Everyone had their lives, their loved ones, their families. Perhaps he was envious. But he was also glad for them.

So he'd smile and wish them all well, even as he faded from their thoughts. And he'd be left to the grey shadowy mist that had become his life. Ever since that day he'd walked into that empty house, a newborn in his arms.

Ever since he'd knew, with certainty, that a happy ending never awaited a ghost.

'>You fought me with such ferocity before. Where is that beast now?<'

The drums, he knew this from before. Before when they had met, it had been a raging river, blood, and mud.

'>I am most disappointed. I cannot allow my vessel to fade in such a pathetic manner. Show me that ferocity, that fire.<'

And suddenly Sari shot awake, falling to his side and away, retching. Breaths forced into his lungs, some force pushing that deadly toxin from his body in no way that should be possible.

Akio let out a small, muffled noise of surprise, eyes widening as he let go and nearly jumped back, hands up. What the...

He'd been dead... Dead! There had been no breath in his breast, no pulse underneath his fingers! And so he stared, wide-eyed and startled. How...?

He didn't speak, hands lowering, before one placed itself gently on the other male's back, some minute attempt at comfort.

Oh it burned, it hurt, yet was so unbearably cold at the same time. Shudders wracked his slender frame as he retched again and again into the sand. Toxicity was black on his lips, something having gathered all that poison he'd given himself and thrown it out in some unnatural way.

By the time he stilled, he was breathless, gasping for air and covered in sweat. Still not fully grasping what had happened.

An exhausted look to one arm that propped him up. The IV was still there. Then...what had happened?

"<You're alive...>"

If it weren't for the breathless awe and disbelief in Akio's tone, one might think he'd been answering Sari's unspoken question. But he wasn't; he was trying to affirm the truth for himself, in his own eyes. Sari was alive. Somehow, in some way, something had saved him.

Even he knew this shouldn't have been possible. And yet here he was, breathing, if barely. "<Easy, Sari-san, easy.>"

Sounds were beginning to return outside of the wild pounding of his heart echoing in his horns. The sound of the waves over the surf, a familiar voice. Sitting up, shaky, he saw Akio at his side.

He rubbed his mouth with a wrist, still feeling that sickening bile there. "...Akio-san... How..."

It was night, he hadn't been...out...long then.

"Why am I not..."

Gods, had he failed at this too? Could he even not kill himself correctly?

"You were," came the answer, soft and haunted, but he smiled, despite the pain in his eyes. "And now, you are not... I do not know why. I do not know what happened."

He sighed, pulling off the top part of his kimono to drape it over the Qalli, reaching to gingerly take out the IV. It was freezing out, especially at night by the ocean, but...

He didn't seem to mind, simply holding Sari's arm to stop the bleeding from the injection site.

"Why would you..." he trailed off, hesitating as deep black eyes flitted over to Sari's face.

"... What pain you must endure," he finished with a soft murmur.

...why? Why couldn't he even do this right? His throat tightened, foul taste still in his mouth. Had he guessed wrong? No, a full bag at that rate of drip, it couldn't have been metabolized in time for him to live. And if what Akio said was true...

A harsh swallow as the other Xaela tended to him, Sari not fighting it one bit. His own mask was in shambles, magitek hand going to cover his face as a sob escaped.

"...I just wanted it to be over," he strangled out. "I don't want to be here anymore, please."

Akio paused at this, a small frown pulling at his features as the mask slipped once more. Ah... What should he do?

He knew that people would need to be informed. The priests, for certain. Perhaps the guard, and the clinic staff. Those who would be able to keep an eye out, an eye on the man.

And...

He knew it was improper, but he'd spend enough time in the West that he was able to cast aside his upbringing's teachings for a moment to simply... pull the man into a tight hug.

"...You are much too desired in this world, to leave it so," he murmured softly.

"That's a lie!" was the sharp denial and he wanted to fight the hug so badly but he had no strength to, even more so as the tears flowed from that one blue eye. "They all leave, they always live, no one stays. Love doesn't mean anything. Not with me. I'm all alone."

The words he'd held back for so long, for years, gushed forth without stopping. Every little thought that had passed through his mind, that he wasn't good enough, that he wasn't worthy, that he was unwanted.

Akio didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to soothe the pain the Qalli suffered, or how to comfort him. So he simply sat there, for the time being, holding Sari, rocking him back and forth and shushing him gently.

"<You're not alone,>" he answered finally, wiping away those tears with one thumb. "<Through all the pain, you are not alone. Your death would leave a hole in the hearts of many, one that could never be filled again. I know not what words to say to convince you of this truth. I can only speak it plainly.>"

He let out a breath, cradling him as Akio sat there, eyes closing.

"<I'm not lying. I promise this.>"

"It is a lie. You're lying. I'm sorry." An instant apology at the accusation but it was true. Everyone lied.

Even as he listened to those Hingan words, his spilling out of words continued in Common.

"He said that, too. He said I'd be safe. That I could cry. That we'd be happy. And that he'd never leave me. It was a lie, again and again it was a lie!"

Voice rising to a wail, uncaring of who heard, how much a mess he was, damn his mask.

"<Then he was a liar, and a fool, and he never should have held your heart in his unworthy hands.>"

And still, Akio rocked, gently, like the ocean they sat beside as he held the wailing Qalli, holding him securely in his arms.

"<But you have family. Family, and a child, and friends, all of whom adore you and your presence.>" His words came across far better in Hingan; he didn't mind that Sari spoke in Common. He understood him, and so he could get across his meaning better. That was what mattered, just then, to the Eastern Xaela.

"<I'm sorry that you weren't safe... You deserved to be. You have always deserved to be.>" A small, gently squeeze in that hug, the taller man curling over the smaller just slightly. "<If only I could find him and force him to his knees to beg your forgiveness.>"

No no no no no. It was still lies. No one wanted him about unless they needed him for something. And Sari wanted to be angry but he couldn't be. They'd found happiness. He hadn't. He couldn't fault his friends that had found peace.

But it was godsdamned lonely when he'd been so close to the same and it had drifted like smoke through his fingers.

"...n-no. He left because I wasn't..."

Good enough? Worthy?

"<Because why...?>" came the gentle prodding, one hand rubbing Sari's back gently.

"<If you say it's because you weren't good enough, then you view yourself too poorly.>"

Exhausted, face red with his tears and sorrow, he rested his chin on Akio's shoulder and nodded. It was true. He was disgusting, used, weak. That was why. Not smart enough, strong enough, charming enough, brave enough.

"<I refuse to believe that,>" Akio retorted firmly, resting his own chin on Sari's shoulder. "<Whoever this weak-willed man was...>" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"<I don't have the words to describe the kind of filth he was.>"

"No, he..." His hands weakly rested against Akio's back. "...he was good. I just wasn't...meant for him. I trapped him."

That's what the bonding had done. Khabi had seen what a weak person he'd tied himself to. That's why he'd left, right?

"<If you simply were not meant for each other, then why did he not say so?>"

Akio shook his head. "<If he wasn't able to tell you such things, to talk to you about it, he was weak.>" He pulled back, looking at Sari with a firm expression, mouth pulled into a frown as he stared the Qalli in the eye.

"<It is not your fault, Saranqerel.>"

...it was. It always would be. Why did everyone always leave? There was only one constant in all of that. Those words threatened to spill out but he was so tired, so frustrated that he couldn't even do this deed right.

Shaking his head, Sari looked to the sand. How could he still be crying?

"Can you..." Shite, he was fighting hiccups. "...leave me here?"

"No."

The word was spoken in Common now, as he shook his head. There was no way in the seven Western hells he was about to leave Sari alone right now!

"I am afraid I cannot do that."

"Please."

How could he go back now? Everything was in place. Things were finally ready. There was finally going to be quiet.

But there was little fight left in the Qalli as he begged. Just let him rest where he wasn't a burden to anyone.

"Iie," he repeated in Hingan. "You may rest with me. But I will not be leaving you alone. This is final."

Akio's tone left little room for argument- or at least that was the intent. He didn't know what else the Qalli might do, but he was damn sure not going to let him try again.

"...you'll leave...in time."

That was a guarantee. Just wait it out. Like everyone else. As he relaxed his hold on the other Xaela, his hand brush the hilt of that katana the samurai had at his waist.

A weapon he'd learned to use from someone else that had abandoned him, turned against him. There was a flash of anger somewhere deep and before he knew it, Sari went to draw that blade in a swift motion as he leaned back. Quickly he got to his feet, though stumbling a bit as he did so.

There was the softest 'sorry' as he raised the blade, going to drive it into his chest.

Akio swore, and in an instant he was on his feet, surging forward to grab at Sari- the sword, his arm, whatever he could grab.

Likely the sword, and the razor sharp blade would cut into his fingers, a pain he would brush aside in favor of throwing the sword away from the Qalli. "<ENOUGH!>" He bellowed.

It was just a bit too late, that magitek arm giving the former Adder the strength advantage.

...yes, pain. But it was nothing he wasn’t used to. The sword impaling him through and through before Akio ripped it from his grasp.

...had it been enough? He sunk back down to his knees in the sand.

Akio snarled, throwing the sword away now as he grabbed for Sari. If that was how it would be, then so be it.

He was swearing up a storm that would make a seasoned sailor tremble in fear. His goal would be to pick up the Qalli and rush him back to the shrine.

"<I will NOT have your blood on my blade!!>"

No! A return of that snarl from the smaller Xaela.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Anger rising to meet anger. Everything had been arranged. It was time to go. He swiped with the claws of that weaponized arm but he was already feeling faint, unable to fight it when the samurai lifted him from the damp sand.

"I will not abandon you," came the snarled reply as he bolted over the sand and rock, booking it as fast as his legs could go.

He needed to call ahead, but his arms were full, and so he simply ran, pushing until his legs burned then pushing further.

The anger soon faded as the blood loss began to drain him of such things. Soon his head rested limply against Akio's chest. ...and then again he gasped for breath violently, so much like before.

No no no. Could he...not...

>A small spark of that fire, not nearly enough. Impress me, child of the moon.<

Once Akio finally reached the shrine, he burst in through the door, offering a silent apology to the resident Kami. Any damages would be repaired later, the Xaela was on a mission.

He called out for the night clinic as he rushed to it, ground Sari as if he were the one dying.

That poor young woman was still there and anxious. But at least she had a good enough head on her shoulders to have things ready for the worst. And when she saw the two Auri men, and that blood, she directed Akio to the closest bed.

"...I can't die," Sari mumbled.

"No, you cannot," came the response, though Akio misunderstood what it was Sari had meant, immediately rushing the man to the nearest bed and setting him down, immediately backing up to give the woman room to work

. He looked haunted, tail lashing violently as he stood there. "Anything I can do to help, instruct me."

There was the sound of books falling over in the back. Botan had been given a room, and yet...she was asleep under a blanket that was under a pile of books, half beneath the low sitting table. A yawn left her as she stretched herself out and nose wiggled at the scent of blood. The shadows eager, but she stilled them. Least another ghostly movement spook another clinic worker.

She got up, dressed in the standard shrine attire she had stolen from the common rooms. Her wooden sandals clicking on the floor as she approached. "Assistance needed?" She inquired with unblinking eyes. "It seems the answer is 'yes,' but will not invade unless wished for."

That tail was still, lips in a straight line, and eyes unblinking as she stood before the scene without an iota of emotion portrayed.

Ah the poor healer never ceased to he spooked by Botan, even after knowing she was there!

"Yes, please. This may require stitches."

Though Sari was obviously dazed by the blood loss, he knew...he knew. Why hadn't he died on the Steppe before being found by Khenbish? Had that plunge in the river, those drums...what Shonkhor had seen.

Not a crazed vision?

Akio simply bowed his head and stepped out of the room, remaining out of the way of the two medics as he stood against the wall, closing his eyes.

Blearily the Qalli tried to get his bearings. The familiar scent of the clinic. He'd been in here just bells before... His mind was still reeling from the revelation. If that's what it was and not some nonsensical shite.

Botan was in the room. No ceremony to the matter. Just pulling out a pouch of the pain killing incense from her sleeve and filling the bronze incensor before lighting it on fire. Then she was sitting over Sari. Her hands resting over that wound in the gut, fingers lingering over it as she focused on the composition of aether and murmured calculations on the fly as she steadily studied Sari's biology through the geometric patterns she etched in her mind.

Every bit of her form was still. The shadows seemed to withdraw, shrinking in towards her and feeding into her power as she focused. They were every bit an extension of the small raen woman.

To her eyes, she may have seen the shadow that had curled itself tightly into Sari's aether. Foreign, spread evenly through every aspect of the Xaela and content to be where it was. Oddly dormant, just...there. It was nothing like the near feral aggressive curse of the kitsune that he'd suffered from for a good year. In fact, that curse has been completely obliterated by this new presence.

Botan was aware of that presence, but did not disturb it. No. She would simply work around it, add it to her calculations, and apply new formulaic patterns of aether into Sari's own. Those that would encourage flesh to stitch itself together and slow the bleeding. Her brow creased and lips pursed together as calculations were rumbled off.

If it would not allow her to heal him, she would simply brute force her way past it. That or she would show it who the scarier creature was. Not that she thought she could bully something like this...something far older than she; a mere raen youth of twenty-some-turns.

Oh the presence didn't fight the healing, no. In fact it held strands of aether close, not letting the flesh fall into death. A threshold of sorts. Sari could very much end up close to death but that final step into the lifestream wouldn't be taken.

Interesting.

The work was slowly finished and her fingers pressed against the fabric over the wound. Those digits dipped in blood and eyes open again as she sensed how flesh gave way to her calculus. There was no grin of victory. No whoop of astonishment.

No.

This was peculiar. Curious. The violet false eye with its mandala like patterns fixed on Sari.

"You have ventured far and brought shadow back with you."

The pain killers helped sooth her own pains. A twist in her gut told her she had pushed herself too far aetherically, but she ignored it. That tail ticked and she lifted her hands away to look at the blood. No blinking, just...rubbing fingers against one another.

"Fate is not done with you yet, Saranqerel." Then she looked at the woman. "Clean. Stitch the surface wound that remains."

Then there was a yawn. Botan was ready to retreat back to where she came. Like some horror slinking away into their closet until the next time someone had need of her and her arcanistry.

The Auri nurse watched with some nerves. How could one not be unnerved watching Botan work? But she nodded and went straight to work. Ritsuka didn't hire weak-willed employees, after all. Especially for the clinic.

The stitches were made evenly, front and back where the blade had pierced. Then wrappings about his middle. And, in some irony, an IV attached for fluids and antibiotics.

Putting everything away and washing her hands, she went to peek out into the hallway. "Obinata-san, he'll be alright."

Akio turned his head, and, mask back in place, he smiled, despite the blood that coated his front. It wasn't anything he was unused to, and so it didn't seem to bother him. At least, now that Sari was okay.

"You have my deepest thanks," he said with a low bow.

Botan just looked at Akio. The raen quiet, and unmoving in that moment before her stomach growled to cut into the moment.

All she said: "Beef Udon. Three sets."

Akio turned his head to look to the other Raen with a chuckle and another bow. "My thanks to you as well- if it will serve to repay even a small portion of my debt to you, I shall see it done."

He turned then, setting off unless stopped, to go get that Raen some damn beef udon.

Botan sat on the stool in the room, and just waited. That tail swishing. Good. Though her attention was fixed on Sari again. Academic curiosity in that gaze.

The nurse was sure to return the bow with a smile before returning to the clinic. She had to write everything in the changeover log for the day shift and what supplies had been used...as per Mitsue and Mashuel's rules.

As for Sari, he drifted in and out of awareness. But that gaze on him pulled him more to reality. He tiredly looked over, pale and a mess from his sobbing earlier. "...can you see what it is...?"

"A thing of the Steppe. This is what their old knowledge tells me..." A hand lifts and taps one horn. Though the shadows are watching. "Well it is my knowledge now."

This is a reference to the Xaela back in the Steppe she had first aetherically devoured to fix her own aether. With it perfectly assimilated she was back to the pale flesh and red hair rather than that ugly dark complexion she never liked. Not that she was a vain creature. Not like her mess of a dead father.

"It is what kept you alive."

"...then it wasn't a nightmare." Slowly he pulled the sheets up to his chin. Ugh he was utterly drained on every other possible level. "I can't die then."

Of course...of course. The one solace he could bring to himself, denied.

"Death is not an escape." Botan said in an observant matter. "You simply pass the burden of pain to those you leave behind." A flick of the tail. "Look at your friend who tried so hard to fight to keep you alive too."

"...he shouldn't have."

Why? Yes, he and Akio had had some good times. But they'd known each other for a few moons. Why would he...bother?

Botan didn't even frown. She just fixed her unblinking gaze on Sari. What a dumb question. The tail flicked and she simply breathed deep of the pain killing smoke.

"Every life is precious, even those that are destined to be eaten." Botan explained. "It's not about the why and the who, it is about the preciousness of that gift. The holiness of that cycle."

"I don't want it..."

How was any of this a gift? Being left alone again and again. Never being granted a happy ending...

"...can you check on Obinata-san? I think he hurt his hands earlier."

It was just then that Akio entered once more, hands wrapped to keep that blood from getting into the udon.

"I do believe I have a delivery!" he announced, far too cheerful for what had happened and how he'd felt not a quarter bell earlier.

He smiled bright, looking to Botan as he held the noodles. "Where do you want me to put these?"

Botan looked at Akio.

There is something broken in this one.

Though she at least kept the thought in her head and didn't blurt it out with the same heavy handed honesty she served Sari. That ivory tail flicked, and hands reached out for the udon. In an instant she had the chop sticks plucking up a swirl of the good beefy udon to take a bite.

Any harsh words of knowledge were lost for now. She would just chew and think. Though she did look at the wrapped hands.

No it required none of her energy, let the other woman handle it.

Meanwhile in the bed, Sari had to look away. Hand clenched in the sheets. How could he look at Akio after that?

Fortunately he was saved as the nurse came by after cleanup to see that blood. "Obinata-san! What are you doing? Over here!" She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him over to a medical station.

Akio had opened his mouth, wanting to speak with Sari- but then he was dragged away, and he laughed slightly. It would be easy for him to resist, but he let himself follow as if he were no stronger than a child, tail fluttering behind him.

"Hai hai, my apologies miss!"

Botan had a moment where she felt like laughing, but didn't. Though her gaze went back to Sari.

"Fate, the Twelve, the Kami, or whatever has given you something, Sari. An opportunity." She moved chopsticks lazily through the soup, gathering noodles. The fat things rolled around through the beef brother as she seemed to play with her food. "An opportunity that you can take, face them down with, and carve your way through the hell you've been given. The question is," she lifted the roll of noodles hanging from the chopsticks, "will you tear down your tormentors, or let them devour you?"

Those eyes looked to him unblinking. "After all, the thing attached to you does look delicious."

"Then take it." There may have been a bit of a snap to his tone.

Botan shook her head. "Looking delicious and wanting to eat it are different things." Udon noodles were slurped in not-so-graceful a way. "I want to see you challenge your path, Sari. Show whatever gods there are in this world that you will not sit under their heel no more. That is what I really want, because you're a dear friend not a morsel."

"I don't give a shite about any of that!" he snapped, fangs bared.It seemed sorrow had warped to anger.

He covered his face. It was so unlike him to be like this.

No one understood. No one got that he was so bloody tired!

Akio, from where he'd been taken by the nurse, looked up. It hadn't been hard to hear that in the quiet of the clinic. How he wanted to go to the poor man's side, offer him some comfort, even if he didn't want it.

A soft sigh escaped him, and he looked down once more, to watch as the Raen woman did her work.

Botan shrugged. The girl wasn't going to push back and forth with him, and simply moved to stand. There was a look at Akio, and she just left the room to go back to her hiding place in the back room to finish her noodles and get back to sleeping. It wasn't her place to fix broken minds and hearts after all.

The Auri nurse was very obviously troubled with the back and forth, but unsure of what to say. So she kept to bandaging Akio's hands, both disinfected and wrapped firmly.

"There. I know it's difficult but try to limit as much use as you can. Ask for help in tasks, alright?"

Akio smiled warmly, tilting his head to the side. "Hai," he said with a playful sort of reluctance. "If I must trouble others, then I shall under the doctor's orders." A crooked grin given to the Raen woman, before he stood with a bow of thanks, making his way back to Sari's bedside.

The Xaela's anger still simmered but there was no one to direct it towards and it quickly fizzled out as he stared out the window. A cold rain had started, obscuring the moon's light over Shirogane. Depressing. Fitting.

"Sari-san..."

The name was soft, gentle, as Akio watched the other Xaela, expression turning sympathetic, perhaps almost sad, if not for that smile staying in place. It ill befitted the scene.

That burned side was closest to Akio, hiding the one good eye which closed at the sound of his voice.

Anger that he'd been stopped.

Anger that, even if he hadn't been, it wouldn't have meant anything.

Sorrow that someone had to witness all of that.

It's why Sari had slunk off and away.

"...I'm sorry. You should take some painkillers and rest."

"I am not leaving you alone."

Despite the gentle tone, it was, once again, firm. Resolute. Akio simply watched as he sat there, watched the Xaela stare out the window, at the rain.

He wanted to be angry, himself, but he couldn't bring himself to be. He was just.... sad. He wanted to help, even if the two of them were near strangers.

"I will be perfectly fine," he added now, tail curling to one side as he leaned back, smiling. "It is nothing I have not endured before. Perhaps less so."

The Xaela chuckled, tilting his head to one side.

"....I am sorry to have stopped you, Sari-san..." Once again that quiet, gentle tone. Almost regretful, but not quite.

What could he say to that? That he accepted the apology? No.

He'd wanted to go. He still did. But that wasn't an option anymore.

....so what did he say?

"Please don't tell anyone else. I don't want to..." Deal with it.

They'd care for a few moments, fuss over him. Then fade back into their happy lives once more. He didn't want to ne envious, bitter. Sari was glad those he knew had found peace. But...he'd wanted it too.

"...You need help."

It was a quiet observation, the Xaela almost frowning. Almost. He couldn't let the mask drop again, not like that. By the Kami....

He lowered his head, hands folded together against his forehead as he stared at the floor. What did he answer with? He couldn't just not tell the priests, or Ritsuka. Sari needed to be put on suicide watch, to keep him from doing it again. He needed help....

He needed to want it first, though, this much Akio knew. It was a universal truth to many problems. Someone who didn't want help would only reject it.

"I am certain you are angry with me," he said softly. "And I am certain that you will be angry with me for my answer. But you must understand, I am bound, by contract and honor, to report this."

"Feck honor," was the snap, though he kept staring at the window.

What did honor do? The twisted pride of the Steppe? The samurai code those at Kotodama supposedly adhered to? The Grand Company that had thrown him aside because of something he couldn't control?

Akio let out a breath, brow furrowing now.

"I will not throw aside mine to suit the ends of another."

Grumbles in Xaelic as Sari rolled over despite the pain of his injury. No, he didn't want to deal with this. He may say something more he'd regret.

Safe from death, perhaps, but not safe from the recovery that came of the incident.

Another sigh, and Akio settled back in his chair, arms crossed over his front as he closed his eyes. He likely wouldn't sleep tonight, instead meditating. Some form of rest, while keeping alert.

"I said I would not leave you alone, Sari-san," he said gently. "I mean this, as an oath." And Akio did not break his oaths.

"I didn't ask for your oath," was the grumpy mumble as he pulled the blanket over his head.

Nor did he ask for acceptance. But he didn't voice this aloud, simply remaining silent now.

And silence met silence as Sari tried to sleep. As much as he didn't want to, the stress of high emotions and whatever his body was doing sapped him.

Eventually with the sound of the cold winter rain, his eye shut and he drifted off in the darkness of his blanket lair.

#roleplay

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