#but the thing about this book is that while there seems to be a lot of characters
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𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺
𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯: 𝘊𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘱 𝘈𝘜
Rating: T? there's a couple off color jokes and Mountain has some thoughts but it's all pretty tame.
Pairing: Mountain/Rain (hints at past Mountain/Swiss.)
Word Count: 1k+
Mushy May brought to you by @forlorn-crows
Divider by @ghuleh-recs
The new guy is cute.
Mountain doesn’t know where he came from–didn’t realize there was a new guy at his regular coffee shop at all until he came in today and spotted him behind the counter.
He’s lanky, shorter than Mountain but still tall. With a mop of dark hair that keeps falling into his very blue eyes and Mountain’s stomach did that annoying flip it does every time he sees a cute guy. Tumbling over itself in his stomach and making his hands shake.
Rain–at least that’s what his name tag says–doesn't seem to notice. Too engrossed in the cash register in front of him, trying to figure out how to make it work–how to find Mountain’s order in the system. A blush rising to his cheeks as he fumbles. Mountain feels faint just watching him.
“Just—uh—find a seat and I’ll bring it out to you,” Rain offered him an uneasy smile.
“Sure.”
Mountain waits, Rain brings him his tea latte with a small smile, then he retreats. Mountain spends the rest of his morning reading his book and peering over the edge of it to watch Rain stumble through what is definitely his first day.
The next day, he comes back. And the next. And the next. He’s a regular at this coffee shop anyway, but now it seems like he’s there constantly. Spending extra time, barely reading his book–more just watching Rain. Trying to decide how to approach him, how to talk to him. How to get to know him. It all seems so complicated. Impossible. Mountain doesn’t want to be upfront and offend him.
But just watching every day is turning into torture. He wants to talk to Rain, wants to know him. Wants to do more than just watch.
“Here again?” Rain smiles at him, it’s day eight. Rain was off yesterday and Mountain had to hide his disappointment when Swiss was there to wait on him instead. Not that he doesn't like Swiss, just, been there done that.
Mountain wonders if maybe he just has a thing for batistas. But that's stupid. This coffee shop just has a habit of hiring unreasonably hot men.
Today, Rain's smile is warm. Easy. Genuine. He seems relaxed behind the counter now and it makes Mountain's heart warm to see him getting comfortable. Becoming himself as he chats with customers and his coworkers.
“I'm always here,” Mountain says with a shrug.
Rain snorts out a laugh. “You must really like the tea.”
“Something like that.”
When Rain hands Mountain his latte their fingers brush. Mountain feels like a teenager again. Stomach fluttering as that warm electric shock passes between them. Rain's fingers are cold, Mountain thinks of a thousand ways to warm them up.
Two weeks in and Rain has his latte ready for him when he walks in the door. Mountain tries to hide his blush–the way that makes him stammer out a thank you as he taps his card on the reader. Swiss never had his latte ready for him.
But Swiss–that was more of a handful of parking lot hookups than anything else. And while Mountain has thought about taking Rain home just to fold him in half over his kitchen counter, most of his thoughts are about candlelit dinners at fancy restaurants and sitting in his living room listening to vinyl while they drink wine and–Mountain doesn't even know if Rain likes music, or wine, or fancy dinner but the fantasy doesn't care.
Mountain catches Rain looking at him as he retreats to his table. Plush lower lip pinned between his teeth–his canines are sharp. Something about that makes Mountain's stomach lurch. Everything about Rain kills him--he's down bad. He doesn't know what to do about it.
The next day, Rain is off again. And Swiss is behind the register barking something at Dew who just flips him off and pretends not to hear. Swiss sighs, looking at Mountain with an eye roll directed at the back of Dews head.
“Can't find good help these days,” Swiss says, mock dramatically. Dew throws a dish towel at him. “Your regular?”
“Please.”
Mountain looks around, glancing toward the door he knows leads out back. Hoping to see a flash of dark curls and pale skin. Swiss shakes his head.
“He's off today.”
“Who?”
“Your boyfriend,” Dew says, yelling it over the hum of the milk steamer. Mountain winces.
“Quiet.”
“Why? He's not here to hear it.”
“Other people are!”
Dew laughs and swings his arm out to indicate the very empty coffee shop. “No they aren't.”
“Dew, shut up,” Swiss turns back to Mountain his smile isn't teasing anymore. Just really encouraging. Like they’re friends instead of strangers who hooked up a few times. “Just ask him out already.”
“He'll say no.”
“No he won't,” Dew butts in. “You're all he talks about on our smoke breaks. Mountain this. Mountain that. Do you think he has a big–”
“Shut up!” Swiss growls.
“HEART. You pervert. I was gonna say heart. We all already know about his dick.”
“I'm never coming here again.” Mountain groans. Mortified.
“Yes you are. And dews Gonna get fired if he opens his mouth again.”
“Try me,” Dew says with a laugh. Sliding Mountains tea to him.
Swiss ignores him. Knocking him out of the way to take center stage in Mountain's field of vision.
“You're going to come back tomorrow. and you're going to ask Rain out. And he's going to say yes.”
Mountain nods in agreement. If only to get away from this situation.
“Good.”
The bell on the door dings and an older white woman wearing giant sunglasses and holding a purse that probably cost more than Mountain's car walks in. He retreats to his table and his book. He tells himself Swiss and Dew are crazy. He can't just ask Rain out. That's insane.
But the next day, as he’s standing in front of Rain, holding the latte that was once again already ready for him. The words just tumble out.
“Do you–uh–” Mountain clears his throat, looks at his feet. He wishes he could pick the words up and shove them back in–but he’s already started, and he can’t seem to stop. “I just–do you think you maybe would want to–”
“I get off at four,” Rain cuts him off with a knowing smile. “Pick me up?”
Mountain's heart might hammer out of his chest. He feels lightheaded, but he nods so enthusiastically that a strand of auburn hair slips loose from his bun and slides into his face. He bats it away.
“I'll be here.”
#comet writes#mushy may 2024#Mountain ghoul#Swiss Ghoul#Rain Ghoul#Dewdrop Ghoul#Coffee Shop Au#The band ghost fanfic#the band ghost fanfiction#The band ghost fic#ghost fanfic#ghost band fanfic
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“I think I’m in love”
Summary: Trevor is having a hard time being away from you while he is with Team USA for the Men’s World Championship. Seeing his teammates and crossing paths with other teams with their significant others only intensifies all his feelings.
Warnings: use of pet names (babe, baby), angst, worry/anxiety, overthinking, fluff, I think that’s it
Word Count: 1.34K
It had only been 72 hours since Trevor had left the United States and he was truly miserable. He felt as if every where he looked when he was off the ice there was a couple. It was nearly impossible to not run into someone he knew from the league, just to be introduced to their significant other. “Seriously since when did everyone had their significant other with them.” Trevor asked Matt Boldy as he laced up skate. “Trevor, I think you’re over reacting. It just seems that way to you because your girl isn’t here.” Matt stands to walk off to the ice. Trevor shakes off his thoughts, or tries to shake off his thoughts.
Trevor wasn’t playing well, his focus was off. His heart really wasn’t in it at all. Cole and Luke had taken notice of how he was struggling and were off talking on the side in between drills.
“Do you think this has something to do with his girlfriend?” Luke asked Cole watching Trevor completely miss Brady for the passing drill. “I’m sure it does. I noticed him watching different couples when we were eating last night. I had to remind him it’s rude to stare. I also noticed Z hasn’t smiled like normal since we got here.” Luke couldn’t answer Cole as Trevor skated up and it was their turn to skate. Trevor’s head was lost in his thoughts when Coach dismissed practice. “Let’s go Z! We’re done” Luke yelled out.
After changing and heading back to the hotel the three boys were piled up in Trevor’s room. “Alright man talk. What’s going on with you? You look like you lost your long time pet or something.” Cole said flopping on his back next to Trevor. “I just miss her a lot. She couldn’t or wouldn’t come for some reason. And I’m worried we will grow apart. And, and” Trevor started to stutter over his words. Feeling a knot in this throat forming. Tears forming in his eyes. The pain in his chest that he wrote off as acid reflux earlier started hurting a bit more when his heart raced harder. “And what?” Luke pushed.
“God. I think I’m in love with her and I didn’t tell her. She doesn’t know.”
“What do you mean she doesn’t know?” Cole and Luke ask at the same time. The two boys share a look with each other then look back at Trevor. Trevor shrugs as if it should be the most obvious answer. “We haven’t told each other yet. She’s different you guys. I want to take care of her and provide for her. I look at her and I think about a future. A future where I don’t live in an apartment with in walking distance from the arena I practice and play in. It’s a future where I live in a house big enough for however many children she wants. With a yard so those kids can play outside instead of always being stuck inside. I don’t think about when I can get her naked in my bed. Actually she’s never been naked in my bed. I’ve never seen her naked. But for fuck sake I am in love with her.”
Trevor ran his hands through his hair and exhaled.
“I have never been this serious about anyone. I will go to hell and back for her. I think I am already in hell being this far away from her but that’s besides the point.” The last part earned a laugh out Cole and Luke. The two boys completely baffled by Trevor’s admission about his feelings for his girlfriend. He has always been an open book about most things but never about his feelings.
“Trev, I think it’s time to be honest with her. You need to let her know how important she is to you before she feels neglected.” Cole says giving Trevor a firm grip on his shoulder. “It’s late, we’re going to head out and get rest for tomorrow. Think about telling her and how you want to tell her before you just call her and yap it out there. If she’s endgame, plan it out.” Cole gives Trevor a quick hug before heading out of the room. Trevor feels better letting it all out but he can’t help but mope in loneliness, wondering what you’re doing back home.
While listening to Trevor, Cole was working magic. He had already purchased you a ticket through the US Hockey foundation for a flight. Explaining how down Trevor has been in just the last 72 hours and that he believed you could potentially be the cure all.
You were shocked. Confused at best. You kept asking Cole if Trevor had put him up to it. Cole kept assuring you that Trevor has no idea that you have a flight out in the next couple of hours. He asked you, more like begged you, to not say anything to him either. By the time Cole got you your ticket and you had woken up you had 5 hours to pack and get to the airport to be on time for security.
As you were getting ready to turn your phone off Trevor’s face illuminates the screen. He was calling. You quickly decline and shut the phone off. ‘Better safe than sorry’ you tell yourself as your boarding the plane.
When you didn’t answer and then the next calls for the next 14-15 hours. Trevor’s mind was reeling the worry he felt set in deep making him sick, he needed a trash can multiple times. He couldn’t focus anything a while the team was at practice. Trevor ended up leaving practice early from being so sick and his inability to focus on anything. He isn’t one to really leave early, usually he would ride the bench until the end of practice but he couldn’t make himself do it. His anxiety over your safety was much too high. The panic was really starting to set in now that he was alone. Trevor had started thinking of all the possibilities of what could have happened.
1) You had starting ghosting him, he was gone and you realized you didn’t want him.
2) You were in the hospital for some reason or another.
3) Your ex-boyfriend came back around.
He was beside himself with all the thoughts running through his mind. Trevor laid curled up in a ball. Physically sick, a few tears shed, worrying over your well-being when there was a knock on his door.
“Guys I’m really not in a place for—“
“Baby?” Trevor’s voice cracked just as it did when he was going through puberty.
His knees buckled and he all but collapsed down on to his knees wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Babygirl. I love you so fucking much. I don’t know how you’re here but I’m glad that you are. I was… I was so worried something happened to you or you were leaving me when you didn’t answer your phone. I just. Fuck. I love you. I’m sorry I never said it before now.” Trevor still on his knees down in front of you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
“T. You..you love me?” You choked out wearing a huge smile on your face. He looks up at you from where he is at on the floor. “Yes baby. Today, tomorrow. Next week, the rest of your life if you’ll let me.” His eyes shining from new tears threatening the fall as your tears weren’t stopping. “T stand up so I can kiss you silly boy.” He quickly followed what you said. Grabbing his cheeks softly and pulling his face to your’s until his lips are just close enough to touch when you speak. “Trevor Zegras, I love you more than you understand.” He groaned in response pulling you into his room. Before the outside world could be forgotten Cole had to run and yell “you’re welcome Zegras” from the room door until he was acknowledged. All Trevor wants to do is lay in bed holding his precious girl, and tell her how incredibly grateful he is that she is there in Ostrava. He can’t wait to have his chance to show her off to everyone tomorrow.
authors note: hi I’ve been sitting on this for a while. I didn’t have a chance to finish the ending for a while and I didn’t go back and read over the actual story part so if it’s bad I’m sorry don’t hate me don’t judge me it’s been like a month
#trevor zegras fanfic#trevor zegras fic#trevor zegras blurb#trevor zegras x reader#trevor zegras fanfiction#trevor zegras#trevor zegras fluff#tz11#trevor zegras imagine#anahiem ducks#nhl writing#nhl fics#nhl x reader#cay writes#cays masterlist#new writers on tumblr#writeblr#trevor zegras pictures#cole caufield#Luke Hughes#oc
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Against all odds (Part 9)
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8
Dream silently steps into Hob’s bedroom and pulls the journal out of his coat. He throws a quick look at the man sleeping in his bed. Hob looks just like the last time Dream visited, if maybe his hair looks less…lubricated. He must have washed it prior to going to bed. Dream appreciates it, even if it has nothing to do with him how Hob performs his hygienical routines or keeps his hair. The now slightly wavy hair lying loose around Hob’s head makes him seem younger, more approachable.
Dream approaches, but not the bed, despite the urge to sit again at Hob’s side and look at his peaceful sleeping face for a while. He steps towards the desk instead. On the desk there is a piece of paper, a mere note really, but set out clearly as if for Dream to find. He leans closer and reads:
“Dear friend, I’d like to propose Victoria Park as our meeting place, if you are amenable. I’ve taken some time off from work and am at your disposal. Drop me a quick note when you have time to meet and I’ll be there, at the old drinking fountain. It's hard to miss, I'm sure you will find it without issue. Please note that the park closes at dusk, but if you’d like to meet at night then this old rover will find a way to be there anyway. ;-)”
Dream frowns at Hob's use of what Dream has learned is called the “smiley face”. Hob has used it twice before in his last journal entry and Dream has spent much too long pondering these modern pictograms and their possible hidden meaning. Do they only convey Hob's particular cheek, his happiness, or do they hide a mild threat, a real warning? Dream fears he is not well-versed enough in social and especially human interaction to decipher Hob's “smileys” correctly.
Delicately he picks up the paper and smoothes his fingers over it, contemplating for a moment. Then he puts it into his coat and pulls out the journal instead. Flipping it open to the latest entry, Dream puts the book on the desk and picks up the pen lying close by. He adds a few lines to his last entry and then carefully closes the book again.
Casting a last, long glance at his friend, Dream carefully skims over Hob’s dreamscape. The man is dreaming of car rides and wide open fields, a dream of escape and freedom. Dream’s presence is not needed, a fact that calms him. He does not want to foster dependency in Hob in some way. Their last meetings in Hob’s dreams had Dream worried, but it seems that Hob has not yet bound himself to Dream too tightly. He will have to talk to Hob soon about a lot of things. He should try and mentally prepare himself for that.
“Sleep well, my friend,” he murmurs and then returns to the Dreaming.
--
Dream steps out of the shadow of a tall beech close to where Hob has invited him to meet. He has dressed himself more appropriately to the times, aware of the fact that people will see him talking to Hob. Having taken inspiration from current young dreamers he is particularly fond of, Dream wears black leather trousers and boots, as well as a leather jacket with metal studs over a simple dark grey shirt that is too large and reveals his bony collarbones, but it hides his sickly thin ribs well enough. Dream has been pleased to note that his preferred style of hair - or rather the lack of care on his part for how unruly it looks - is in fact in fashion and he has therefore not changed his hair at all.
He looks around with interest. The park is spacious, trees and wide mowed meadows spreading out in all directions. Straight walkways lead towards a small building made of pink marble and granite Dream supposes must be the fountain. It has a distinct Gothic look to it and is indeed hard to miss, like Hob promised. The sun is low over the treetops and buildings and while there are a few pedestrians about, they are scattered and do not bother Dream. What bothers him is something else.
The light gleams off a surface of water surrounding the historic drinking fountain. The fountain sits in the middle of an octagon of flower beds and water basins. Dream freezes and stares at the way the water almost surrounds the place, fences it in like.
Like a moat.
He swallows hard and takes an involuntary step back.
“Boss? You alright?” comes a croak from above him. Matthew flutters down from one of the beech’s boughs and lands in front of Dream, cocking his head at him. “What’s the matter?”
Dream inhales sharply and tries to still his trembling hands. He closes his eyes for a moment and then says, “Matthew. Could you please inform Hob Gadling, the man waiting at the fountain…that I would rather meet him. Over here.”
Matthew eyes him worriedly. “Uh, sure boss. Be right back.”
Dream clenches his hands into fists and watches his raven fly over to the fountain, crossing the water and fences without issue. He curses himself internally for his cowardice. Yet he cannot will himself to take another step closer to the circle.
--
Hob arrives at the Burdett-Coutts Fountain way too early. Of course. How could he not, when his friend has not specified a time. Not exactly. He recalls his friend’s last letter, having read it over and over again after finding the journal back on his desk yesterday morning:
June 16th, 1989
Dear Hob,
I don't know how to tell you how much your reassurance means to me. The thought of losing you as a friend has troubled me more than I was willing to admit for a long time. I thank you for your offer of hospitality whenever I may need it. I intend to honour it and not abuse your trust, or your furniture.
You are not the first to tell me that I should "take a break". However, as the ruler of my realm there are a lot of things that none but me can do and so I do not have the option to delegate and take a prolonged holiday. My absence has been what has caused a lot of pain and damage in the first place. I am, however, tempted to take you up on your offer of meeting more often, as I find myself able to relax in your presence. I hope this will help me regain my equilibrium and calm with time.
You have offered me more than would be advisable, Hob. Most would caution you not to offer me anything at all. I urge you to not lose your sense of self-preservation when offering me aid. There are things worse than death, dear friend, and I do not wish them upon you.
I look forward to meeting you soon,
Your friend.
Addendum:
Having now read your note, I hereby accept your invitation to Victoria Park. Let us meet there tomorrow afternoon.
Tomorrow afternoon. Hob had almost tripped over his own feet in joy on his way to the bathroom and then the kitchen, trying to go about his day as calmly as possible. He had failed spectacularly, knowing he would see his stranger the next day. He’d tried to distract himself, read the journal and all his friend’s entries several times; he’d gone shopping and tried to find something new to wear, something more relaxed than his current smart casual wardrobe of a newspaper editor. He’d thought about going to a hairdresser but had missed his window of opportunity after debating for too long if he should do it or not. Today he hadn’t wanted to go any longer, leaving his hair open and unstyled instead. When Hob had looked in the mirror this morning he had been content and left his hair as is.
His excitement and the lack of work have made him restless all day and so he arrives at the park when one can barely call it afternoon. He has come prepared, though. He sits down on one of the fountain's steps and pulls out a book he's meant to finish for a while. The weather is nice and the park is still full of people strolling about, enjoying the June sun. Sunny days are rare enough in London, one has to get their sunlight when they can. Hob doesn't begrudge anyone their time out here but he still hopes there will be fewer people when his friend arrives. He doesn't want him to shy away again.
Hob sits and reads for at least an hour, periodically scanning the surrounding area for any sign of his stranger.
Will he tell him his name this time? His friend had hinted at his intention to do so in his last entry. Will his stranger finally not be a stranger anymore? What will he look like in the light of day? In sunlight? Hob has only ever seen him inside the tavern or...on a dark and rainy street, walking away from him.
Hob sighs and puts the book away, which he has not been properly paying attention to anyway, and pulls out the journal instead. He has taken it with him to-
He's not quite sure why he took it. He wanted to have his friend's words and proof of their appointment close by, he supposes.
An approaching shadow and the flapping of wings startles him. A raven - for no crow is as big as that - swoops over Hob's head and the fountain. Hob stares up, perplexed. It's been a while since he saw a proper raven, not since the last time he drove by the Tower.
The raven swings back towards him and lands in front of Hob's feet. Hob stares; the raven cocks his head.
"Are you Hob Gadling?" it says, with the voice of a sceptical American. Hob feels like his eyes will bug out of his head. A talking raven! That's a first even for him, in all his time on this earth.
"I, er- yes?" Hob stutters and presses the journal protectively against his chest. The raven hops closer, and speaks again, sounding slightly annoyed.
"Is that a question? I asked you! You know who you are, right?"
"Yes, yes, I'm Hob Gadling, but-"
"The boss sends me. He can't meet you here," the raven interrupts him, and Hob freezes. Does this bird mean his stranger? Nevermind that it is talking, what did it say? He can't meet him? Why?!
Hob draws a shaky breath, feeling nauseous, and grips the journal tighter.
"Wh-what do you mean, he can't meet me? Is something wrong? Is he hurt? Should I-"
"Hey, hey, calm down. He's fine," the raven caws and flaps its wings at Hob who has risen from the fountain steps and taken a wobbling step forward.
"He's fine, alright? He just told me to ask you to meet him over there," the raven points its beak in the direction of some of the nearby trees. Hob looks up and indeed, if he squints against the sun he thinks he can make out a black figure in the shade of a large beech. He feels the anxious knot in his stomach ease and heaves a deep breath.
"Oh..."
The raven looks at him strangely and hops a few times, shaking out its wings.
"You okay with that?"
Hob nods distractedly, trying to make out more of his stranger in the shadows. The raven continues conversationally, "I think it's the circle, you know? The, uh, octagon, I guess? Maybe? He seems a bit on edge so be nice, yeah? This beak is sharp, so if you hurt him-"
Hob instantly looks down at the bird, frowning. "Why would I want to hurt him? I’d never, you got that, uh, raven? Do you have a name?"
"It's Matthew," the raven says with a comical bob of its head before taking to the air once more, "Nice to meet you. And that's good to hear. A friend of the boss is my friend and so on, right? Not that he has many of those, I recon."
Hob contemplates that for a moment as he packs away the journal before following the raven - Matthew - away from the fountain.
"No. I guess not..."
#I love writing this fic I honestly do#it doesn't come easy all the time but sometimes I get some more of it done :)#1989 au#dreamling#the sandman fanfiction#teejay writes
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(You gently close the door to Sifs room and lean back on the wall next to it. Change, what a morning.)
(You rub your temple. Alright, alright, analyse and compartmentalise, Siffrin, no, Loop, had told you a lot and you had to relay it to the others. Are they all going to take it well? You couldn't exactly keep it secret.)
(Oh boy. . .)
(You walked down to the where Nille and Odile were sitting for breakfast. Nille waved good morning.) "Hey big guy, how's Siffrin doing?"
"Oh, bad." (You sigh and sit down.) "Where do I even start."
"Never a good sign." (Odile comments from behind her book.)
"W-well, right now they're resting up. They have craft exhaustion and are pretty hungry. I was going to grab them some food."
"I got it!" (Nille stood up and scooped up some of breakfast.) "Not surprised, time crafts s'pposed to be impossible for a reason."
"Even one loop should kill them, really." (Odile adds.)
"Ah, well, about that." (You rub your neck.) "When everyone's back there's a lot to explain."
"Ah."
"Ominous, I'll be quick then." (Nille runs off with the food.)
(You pick at your own breakfast, quesadillas, just like Loop said. You took a bite, tasty!)
(You think while you eat; how many times had they eaten this breakfast? Well, if you had the same thing for breakfast over and over you might go crazy! And it's even made the exact same way every time.)
". . . Isabeau." (Odile starts.) "Did you get to ask?"
"Hrk-" (You choke a little, Crab!! You forgot!!) "N-no, I didn't. T-there was uh, something a bit more important going on."
"It sounded intense." (Back to her book.) "Argument?"
"Not really. . ." (You rub your shoulder.) "I-I'll, I'll ask them out another time! When things have calmed down."
(Nille returns to you and Odile chatting.) "They're out like a stone, don't think I've ever seen someone so sleepy."
"That sounds like Sif!"
"I doubt anything short of the King coming back would wake them up."
"Knock on wood." (Nille replies, nocking on the wood table as she sat down.)
". . . What?" (Odile looks up, confused.)
"Knock on wood! It's an old tradition to stop you from jinxing yourself. And I don't exactly want the King to come back."
"Ah I see." (Book down, researcher mode.) "Where does that tradition come from? Is it Vaugardian?"
"I don't think so," (She thought for a second.) "Actually, I got no idea where I got it from. Maybe I got it from someone in Bambouche."
"Could be one of those 'Sif things.'" (You comment.)
"Ah yes, the 'Sif things'" (Odile continues.) "I would not be surprised if this was another 'Siffrin thing', with how many little traditions seem to be tied to it."
"Like that thing they told Boniface to do? On their birthday?" (Nille asks.)
(Odile nods.) "Exactly so. Now let's pause this conversation before we get headaches, shall we?"
(You nod, right. It was always a pain to talk about 'Sif things' as you all had come to call it. Island talk. Wish craft. Rituals and- ow. Alright message recieved, back to casual non-island conversation.)
"Hmm. . . Is it tradition research?" (Nille asks after a second.)
"No, wrong." (Odile shakes her head, back to the book.)
"Awww."
"You'll get it sometime Nille!" (You say encouragingly.)
"How long did it take you again?"
"It took me a few months, and Sif figured it out durring the loops sooooo. ."
"I'll try and do it quicker then." (She rolls her eyes.)
(At long last Mirabelle and Bonnie joined in from doing their morning routine and took a seat. The casual chatter continued as you all finished breakfast.)
". . . Where's 'Frin?" (Bonnie asks.)
"He's resting up, I guess that loop yesterday really took it outta them." (Nille ruffles Bonbons hair.) "Was too busy saving our lil' scoundril."
"Ah, right, about that." (You clear your throat.) "Former saviors of Vaugarde I, Isabeau, am calling a very serious no jokes meeting into order!"
(Odile let out a half-laugh.) "Good start."
"Oh Madame! That's no way to act durring such a serious meeting!" (Mirabelle replies in a poshy accent.)
"Quite so! For we are only the most serious of serious!" (You continue, before breaking out into a laigh.)
"A real comedy duo you two are." (Nille says, leaning back.) "So, what's the deal big guy?"
"Right!" (Alright, here goes, gotta tell em everything. Now, just like Sif does. You breathe in, and out.) "Well, for one, Siffrin isn't Siffrin right now. Remember the conversation yesterday? Well they're Loop right now, not Sif. Just, as a start."
"Alright. . ?" (Odile responds as if prompting you to continue.)
"But! The, uh, the real issue is that." (Ohboy.) "They've aparently been looping through today, with this being the, 8th or 9th time."
"Again?!?!"
"Oh gems. . ."
"Well that explains the exhaustion."
"Yeah," (You rub your shoulder.) "Last loop was aparently really bad, and they had a whole breakdown- oh Change I forgot to ask for details."
"W-we can ask them later! Once they're up." (Mirabelle looked nervous.) "Did they tell you a-anything though?"
"Oh they did! Uh. . ." (You tap your chin.) "Right, so, an old friend of mine, Ramos, who used to go by a different name I think- A-anyway! They've aparently been using mind craft on people, strong mind craft. It got Mirabelle in trouble for kidnapping Bonnie, and they changed my memory."
"What?"
"I- I wouldn't do that!! Why would they-"
"THAT'S CRABBING STUPID!!!"
"Language!"
"I-I know! I know it sounds bad and uh. . ." (Oooooh boy.) "Aparently last loop they tried confronting Ramos, and they turned into a sadness and we had to fight. Nille got hurt pretty bad, but we won."
". . . But?"
"I, they didn't tell me, but, aparently something bad happened to Ramos."
". . ."
". . ."
". . . What in the world could have been bad enough to go back again?" (Odile muses.)
"I, I don't want to think about it." (You shudder. Oh Ramos. . . You remember them, you would hang out sometimes, train together, and you'd help them out sometimes with exams. They had some troubles, but they were alright! They were a good person!)
"So. . . So what do we do?" (Mira asks.)
"Well. . ." (You think for a moment. Loop seemed so. . . Distressed. Desperate. Sad. All of that. You'd seen it all before when Siffrin walked up to you at the Favor tree, they looked so distant then. . . You couldn't let that happen again.) "We should get training just like we used to!"
"Huh???"
"Ah."
"REALLY?!?"
"Not you Boniface." (Nille replies.) "You're still a kid."
". . . Pétronille, I mean no disrespect, but I'm fairly certain Boniface is a stronger fighter than you are at this point." (Odiele counters.)
"HEY!!! I'm PLENTY tough!!!"
"Haha!! 'Dile called me stronger!!"
"Oh I'll show YOU strong ya lil-"
"A-alright! M-maybe save that or another time since, since we still need to figure out everything a-and-" (Mirabelle tries breaking them up. Her look of worry doing the trick instantly.)
"Ok, ok. But if Boniface is gonna fight I better be there."
"As long as it's on the backlines as well." (You respond.) "Dive in when there's an opening just like we used to do."
"Sounds like a plan."
"I do wonder though, how much, well, how much will it matter?" (Mira was pondering.) "If this isn't the last Loop, then, we would have done all this for nothing, and, w-well."
"I had a theory on that." (Odile adjusted her glasses, oh you loved this part.) "Siffrin said they started each loop waking up from their nap. Yesterday, Siffrin also looped back to waking up from their sleep, and I'm assuming todays loop started with them waking up too." (She tapped her chin.) "There's a good chance taking a proper sleep is linked to making a "checkpoint" of sorts."
"But what about the clock tower? Sif said we always had a sleepover there before going to the house." (You ask.)
"Hmm, good point." (she thought it over, then snapped her fingers.) "Ah! Didn't you plan to tell Siffrin your grand confession durring the sleepover?"
"M-m'dame!" (You hold up your hands deffencievly.) "What does that have to do with this?"
"You chickened out, duh." (Bonnie chimes in, smugly.) "I can already see you trying to talk to 'frin when everyones trying to sleep. Then holding off till after the King."
"O-oh..." (You try to sink into the floor. That, that would be something you do, yeah.)
"As easy to see through as a plane glass window." (Nille shakes her head.)
"L-lets move on-"
"Yes yes, so, my theory is that when Siffrin wakes up it'll be a new point they'll loop back to." (Odile stands up and stretches her back.) "Which means that anything we do before they wake up will do wonders for future loops."
"Oh!!! That's great!!!" (Mirabelle jumps up too, a new spring in her step.) "I'll get my sword! Oh it'll probably be dull by now too, oh! And I need to brush up on my combative crafts!!"
"And don't forget the-"
"I don't think I could ever forget the carrot method."
"CRAB!!" (Bonnie jumps up in a panic.) "I've been using those spare tonics for cooking!!!"
"Language, but a good point. I'll help ya look for more." (Nille gets up too.)
(Phew.) "I'm glad we figured all that out." (You stood up, and strike a big heroic pose.) "Siffrin, Loop, they're gonna get out of today! And we're gonna help them do it!!"
#HRNGHRNGHRNGHR they all care about their friiiiendddddd(s)#art#isat#in stars and time#isat art#isat fanart#isat au#sifstem#siffrin system au#isat spoilers#isat isabeau#isat odile#isat mirabelle#isat nille#isat bonnie#isat fanfic
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Noah's Spring Jewish Book Review
this isn't gonna become a regular thing, don't worry. I just need to gush some about these books. I'm gonna keep the reviews short too because who's got that kind of time!
So far I've read 4 Jewish novels this spring and I'm working on a fifth. We'll go in chronological order
1. Thistlefoot by GennaRose Nethercott
~ Two estranged siblings, Isaac and Bellatine Yaga—the grandchildren of the famous Baba Yaga—inherit their ancestor's chicken-footed house. They travel the country putting on puppet shows and exploring their own mysterious abilities, all the while trying to escape from a threatening figure known only as the Longshadow Man, as well as their own pasts. History relives itself in a book filled with magic and mystery ~
This book was so damn good. Every other sentence is tattoo-worthy and hits you like a sack of bricks. The characters feel so real and raw while also managing to fill out their respective roles with a sense of poetry. The book has a supporting cast of memorable characters and a sense of real danger throughout. Every so often the house will interject in a way that reminds me so much of my bubbe (עליה השלום). I've read reviews that said it dragged on a bit in the second act but I was enraptured the entire way through. It's also pretty gay, which I always appreciate. 10/10
2. When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb
~ An angle and a demon—best friends for 200 years—set out from their tiny Pale shtetl to America in search of a girl who hasn't been heard from. They're accompanied by Rosie, a spunky and fire-spirited girl from their shtetl desperate to get away and have an adventure in the far-off West ~
No book has made me feel quite so seen as this one. As someone who grew up Orthodox there's virtually no representation for people like me. The majority of Orthodox characters in media are trying to get away. None of them love it quite so much as I do, as much as the characters in this book do. From Little Ash tucking his peyot behind his ears like my older brothers used to to the angel waking up to daven shacharit. Sacha Lamb takes the brave stance of "what if Jewish theology is real, actually" and it shines on every page. The writing effortlessly intertwines spirituality and reverence with a classic Yiddish folktale. It's also pretty gay. 10/10
3. From Dust, a Flame by Rebecca Podos
Hannah, the descendant of the famed Rabbi Yehuda Loew, wakes up one morning to find herself transformed, her eyes turning to yellow slits. Her mother seems to blame herself without explaining why, and soon after disappears. After receiving a mysterious letter, Hannah and her adopted brother Gabe travel to upstate New York to meet their mother's family, to learn the secrets of her past, and of their own lineage ~
I'll start off by saying I'm not sure if I was the target audience for this book. It was good, don't get me wrong, but the writing wasn't to my taste. It was a little... blatant, where I prefer prose to be a bit more subtle. Again, nothing wrong with it, just not my particular thing. I definitely relate to Hannah and Gabe a lot, each in their own way. A lot of the book felt very comforting and familiar to me. The book is equal parts supernatural action and intriguing mystery, and keeps you engrossed til the end. It's also Extremely Gay 7/10
4. The Way Out by Gavriel Savit
~ Yehuda Leib and Bluma set out from their tiny Pale shtetl, each on a mission of the utmost importance. Yehuda Leib is looking for his lost father, and Bluma is running from Death. Navigating the Far Country full of demons, goblins, and angels, the pair fight their way through history and mystery alike, and prepare to make war on Death himself ~
This book. Oh boy this book. Where do I start? This book made me cry several times, which hasn't happened in over 15 years. This book said everything about death I've been feeling since my bubbe passed away (עליה השלום). This book genuinely made me re-think how I view G-d? All that and more in less than 400 pages. This book harmonized with my soul. This book changed who I am as a person. This book made me crumble to dust and then built me back up from scratch. 10/10
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☕️ what if I want the rant about ollie cheating now (or whenever you're up for it)
Oh good, because I mentioned it as bait and I'm glad someone took me up on it. 😂
CW: Sexual assault.
Yeah so here's the thing: Ollie has definitely canonically cheated on Dinah at least once, maybe twice depending on your definition. But the idea of Ollie as a serial cheater and womanizer comes from a story where he is raped. Which uhhhh is absolutely NOT cheating.
So for nearly 30 years, Ollie had exactly zero love interests. The closest he came was Miss Arrowette/Bonnie King (Cissie's mom), who appears in exactly 3 stories in the early 60s where Ollie only regards her as a pest...but in a 1969 issue of JLA where all the Leaguers bring dates to a carnival, he brings Bonnie because up to that point, she was literally the only woman he had interacted with besides Wonder Woman.
Also in 1969, he meets Dinah. Within a few issues, he's declaring his love:
Note that there's nothing to indicate that Ollie knows Bruce is stalling for time. He's just down bad.
Anyway, Ollie and Dinah are soon in a committed relationship and remain that way for over 20 years. Starting in the 80s, various writers introduced a couple of brief relationships with other women in Ollie's pre-Green Arrow past, but that's not cheating either - he dated them before he knew Dinah.
Then in 1987, DC introduced Shado, a Yakuza assassin and the best archer in the world, better than Ollie. Ollie and Shado have an immediate and intense emotional connection, but he is in a committed relationship, and neither Ollie nor Shado even vaguely hints at him leaving Dinah for her.
But then Shado shoots Ollie (long story), and then nurses him back to health through his injury-induced fever and delirium. And a little while after that, she turns up with a son, Robert, who looks a lot like Ollie. Dinah is suspicious, so Shado tells her that Ollie didn't cheat on her: Shado had sex with Ollie while he was delirious and thought she was Dinah, and Ollie has no memory of it and has no idea that Robert is his son.
To be clear: this was rape. The story doesn't treat it like rape, and it's clear the writer didn't understand that it was rape. To this day, no comic has acknowledged that Shado raped Ollie. In fact, when Ollie finds out about it years later, he's happy, because he wanted a biological son (this was pre-Connor).
(My feelings about Shado are complicated. I think she's a really interesting character, and I'm loath to discard her because of this one incident that was not intended to be interpreted as rape, but I also think it's really important that we acknowledge that it was rape because our culture is not good about consent. I think we can hold multiple ideas in our heads at once, like "Shado is interesting and cool" and "this is a fucked up story and male survivors should be supported and believed.")
The original comic also didn't treat it as cheating, but subsequent writers did. It didn't help that in the early 90s, there was a scene where Ollie (canonically in the back half of his 40s) is kissed by a college-age girl named Marianne who has a crush on him, and kisses her back. Dinah caught them and eventually broke up with Ollie over it (among other reasons). I think this is one of those things where some people would consider it cheating and some wouldn't, so YMMV.
Ollie was then killed off and replaced by Connor, and Connor's book was written by Chuck Dixon, who really hyped up Ollie's legacy of sluttiness (citation needed, Chuck) in contrast to Connor's virginal but definitely totally heterosexual purity. (Lollll sucks to suck, Chuck.)
Then Ollie was brought back. And as much as I love Quiver, the story that brings him back, it absolutely depicts what happened with Shado as Ollie cheating, which: NO, KEVIN SMITH. IT WAS RAPE. (Interestingly, Dinah seems to consider what happened with Marianne to be cheating, while Roy does not.)
This was also at the start of the post-9/11 era, where there was a real preoccupation with depicting heroes as deeply flawed, dishonest, and generally harmful, with feet of clay - just generally fucking up and being assholes pretty much all the time. (See Identity Crisis, Civil War.) And so Ollie then definitively cheated on Dinah, having sex with Black Lightning's niece Joanna, who was almost immediately murdered by a supervillain afterwards which was also largely framed as Ollie's fault because superheroes ruin everything. (And because Joanna was a triple threat of female, Black, and sexually active, so she HAD to be fridged.)
Dinah dumped Ollie again, and the way Ollie was talked about in the comics - and outside of them - rapidly escalated, with basically every character constantly describing him as a cheating horndog who couldn't keep it in his pants. This dovetailed with Ollie being portrayed as worse and worse in flashbacks around Connor's conception and birth - originally he didn't even know about Connor, then he knew but lied to everyone, then he was actively cruel to Connor's mother, etc.
I think the peak (or nadir) of all this for me was when Dinah told Babs she was marrying Ollie and Babs shrieked that she couldn't because Ollie was a CHEATER who had "fathered Connor with that Shado woman!" Um, Connor's mother is Sandra Hawke, Connor is a good 15 years older than Robert Jr., Ollie had not even met Dinah at that point, and I don't remember who wrote that issue of BoP but if you can't tell the difference between two entirely different Asian women, you're a racist hack.
Thanks to the New 52, this is all pretty much in the past (the New 52 had entirely different Green Arrow problems, including him being raped again but a completely different woman).
But in conclusion: yes, it's canon that Ollie has cheated on Dinah. However, he only cheated after getting a reputation as a cheater when he was in fact a victim of rape. Before that, he was a horndog, but specifically for Dinah and Dinah alone, and he was faithful. And I'm glad that the discourse on this has shifted so much in the past decade or so, because Ollie has done plenty of things we should blame him for, but this wasn't one of them.
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Won't Fear Love (4/6)
Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland
Rating: T
Word Count: 1.500
Read on AO3
„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.
If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.
or:
Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.
tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality
There is a crowd outside of the next location.
At least it isn’t teenagers, Edwin reasons with himself, while he lets Charles drag him there, hand in unenthusiastic hand. It seems more like an adult event, with middle-aged men and women laughing and mingling, which elevates his worries just slightly.
“Where are we going, Charles?”, Edwin asks, and the smirk Charles shoots back at him is definitely disconcerting.
“Well, the last thing we did, that was for you”, Charles explains and it seems to Edwin that he is far too excited about this. “This one’s for me. But I promise, you’ll like it.”
It’s only because he has the utmost trust in Charles that Edwin sets a foot inside the establishment.
And maybe the hand that is still holding his.
It is a concert.
Edwin should have known, after all, this is where Charles usually goes to if he spends an evening alone. On several occasions in the past, he had asked Edwin to join him, but he had always declined, preferring the quiet of their agency and a good book to the chaos of live music.
Especially the kind that Charles seems to enjoy most.
However, he has to admit that there is something about watching Charles here that is… captivating. Intriguing. Beautiful in its own way.
Because Charles is happy here.
He weaves through the crowd with practised ease, glowing with excitement as he takes in their surroundings, mouthing along to the song that is playing through the stereo.
Edwin can hardly make out the words, yet Charles seems to know them by heart.
Eventually, Charles stops at the back of the room, a few metres away from the bar, and turns around to face Edwin.
“We don’t want to go up the front, there’s gonna be a lot of people once the band starts”, he tells Edwin, “And I hate it when they phase through me during a song, really takes me out of the whole thing. Also, we’ve a bit more privacy here, yeah?”
Edwin isn’t certain why they would need privacy, seeing as they are not visible to anyone around, but he still appreciates the sentiment – people phasing through them is quite unpleasant and proximity to the stage isn’t anything Edwin is keen on in the first place.
So, he nods, and Charles smiles, and then does something cruel, heartless, unthinkable.
He drops Edwin’s hand.
It is strange how used to it Edwin has become in such a comparatively short time, holding Charles hand, to the point where he feels the lack of it now, because they are on a date and Charles is supposed to hold his hand.
Yet, instead he is rummaging through his backpack, letting out a tiny Ah! when he finally finds what he has been looking for.
He’s smiling, almost a little shyly, and reaches out to grasp Edwin’s lapel, fixing something on it.
“I got you a pin”, he explains; his hand finds Edwin’s again and all is fine in the world. “Little bit like mine. So you won’t look so out of place in here with your fancy suit and your perfect hair. See?”
And he points to the pin, a little circle in black and white. It really does resemble the chequered one Charles is wearing, only that the lines are less crisp and more of a wave, that there are little pink and yellow stars scattered between them.
It looks ridiculous against the blue tweed.
Edwin never wants to take it off.
“Where did you even get this from?”, he asks, feeling almost dazed, and Charles grins, even as he rubs the back of his neck, indicating an answer Edwin might not be happy with.
“Stole it”, Charles admits, and yes, Edwin should be cross with him, but it is very difficult to remember that than when Charles stole it for him. “From a Primark a couple of blocks down from the office. But don’t worry about it, it was maybe a quid. They won’t miss it.”
He’s right, and much more importantly, Edwin just cannot bring himself to care.
“Thank you”, he says softly, putting his hand across the pin and almost, just almost feeling the cool, smooth plastic against his skin. “I love it.”
The band starts playing only a little later, and Charles is so happy that Edwin forgets that he doesn’t particularly likes crowds, that this isn’t music he would listen to if he could choose, not even that Charles at some point in his dancing drops his hand. Because there is joy in every motion, every word he sings along with, loud and inaudible to anyone but Edwin, and watching him, Edwin thinks he might never have loved him more.
He’ll go to a thousand concerts, listen to a million songs that don’t make sense to him, if he only gets to see Charles like this again.
The song changes, a piano playing, and it’s more mellow than what has come before, and Edwin expects Charles’ movements to become slower; what he doesn’t expect is for Charles to turn around to him, his hair framing his face in wild curls and hold out his hand.
“Wanna dance? I think we should dance.”
“Dance?”, Edwin repeats, still too dazed by Charles’s joy to make sense of the words, and he doesn’t get to think about it for a minute longer, because Charles grasps his hand and pulls him in.
Edwin has danced before, but not like this: it had been stuffy classes his mother made him go to in the summer before he died, taught by a stern woman with a hazel switch that she would use to flick at her students’ feet if they missed a step.
He had hated every second of it.
This, however, is so different it should not even be allowed to carry the same name.
Charles’ hand settles on Edwin’s hip, gently pulling and pushing him with the rhythm until Edwin gets the hang of it, smiling so wide that Edwin’s cheeks hurt in sympathy. The light is dim, yet his eyes sparkle, and although the music is so loud, Edwin can hear Charles’ laughter when he raises their hands to spin around, before returning to Edwin’s arms.
He moves like it’s as easy as breathing and Edwin is captivated, smitten, unable to look away. And they are so close, close enough that Edwin could count each of Charles’ lashes, close enough that he can make out every excited twitch of his lips.
It would be the easiest, and the scariest, thing in the world to just lean in and…
The song changes.
“I never thought I'd miss you half as much as I do”, the singer croons and Edwin is close enough that he can see that Charles’ eyes go wide, his smile falter for a split-second, before he starts laughing.
“What is the matter?”, Edwin asks, confused by the sudden shift of atmosphere. The music is still playing, sounding almost the same, they are still dancing, but Charles is looking at him with an expression Edwin cannot describe, let alone understand.
“Just listen”, Charles tells him, and Edwin does.
The melody is quite pleasant, upbeat and maybe a little bit longing, and Charles is watching him listen; eager, maybe, interested, definitely.
“Every night, every day, I know that it's you I need to take the blues away“, the singer continues, and Charles ducks his head a little, then „It must be love, love, love…“
And Charles looks back up at him, and suddenly it feels like Edwin hadn’t been aware how close they are after all, even if he spent the last minutes thinking about nothing else. But they are so close, and this is a love song and they are dancing and Charles still isn’t moving away.
Instead, he is holding Edwin’s hand and watching him, his eyes curious and dark, and Edwin wants to kiss him so much it hurts.
“How can it be that we can say so much without words?”, the singer asks and Edwin thinks, yes.
Thinks, please.
Thinks, I would do anything for you.
Thinks, I love you the most.
It’s only when Charles makes a little sound at the back of his throat that Edwin realises they have stopped moving, but before he can formulate a single thought, Charles is dragging him close.
Slender arms wrap around Edwin’s shoulders, and Charles is hugging him so fiercely that Edwin can feel it, their astral bodies so close he can hardly tell where he ends and Charles begins.
Without thinking, Edwin hugs him back, and Charles buries his face in the crook of his neck, and Edwin holds him, eyes slipping shut.
“It must be love, love, love”, the music still plays, “Nothing more, nothing less, love is the best.”
It’s no kiss, but it’s enough, more than that, even.
It’s love, and the kind really doesn’t matter.
#dead boy detectives#dead boy detective agency#dbd#edwin payne#edwin paine#charles rowland#painland#payneland#paynland#chedwin#charles x edwin#edwin x charles
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Missing in Action
Genre: angst
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: Suicide, mental health struggles, grief, death (in passing), violence, bullying.
Authors Note: Hi everyone! This is going to be a bit of a heavier fic. If it's to much for you to handle, that's okay! Take care of yourself. This does have a bit of a happier ending. If I missed anything in the warnings, do let me know!
Ape - Bee
Bellissima - beautiful
Tagging: @slytherins-heir @simplyholl
The Battle of Hogwarts -- one of the bloodiest battles in the Second Wizard War, and you lived to tell the harrowing tales. You were one of the lucky ones.
A year and a half had passed since then, the castle had been rebuilt, and the dead were laid to rest. It took a year for classes to resume, but here you were again, going through the routine again with your closest friends - Draco Malfoy, who bravely fought against his parents on the side of good, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire and Regulus Black. Although things were getting back to normal, a significant part of your group was missing. Mattheo Riddle, son of the Dark Lord himself but, more importantly, your beloved, was gone.
Mattheo was not among the survivors at the end of the war, nor was his body found within the ruined castle rubble. The professors and Ministry of Magic alike scoured the school grounds in search of anything, but nothing could be seen of him. The mystery of his disappearance deepened, with rumours of what happened to him beginning to spread. One thing all the rumours had in common was painting Mattheo as a hero - the prodigal son of the Dark Lord, standing up against him, holding off the death eaters while many students fled. He was one of the many unsung heroes of the war, his fate uncertain.
As the months progressed and nobody ever found any trace of Mattheo, the hope of his survival began to drop. First, it was the Ministry. A few months later, the professors gave up hope that he was alive. Just recently, Theo had finally given up hope that he was still alive. You heard him talking in the Great Hall about it.
“What do you lot think? Is he actually coming back?” Theo asks, his voice calm. It was not quite a whisper, but it was not his total volume. “Do you believe Matt was actually able to survive the war? Survive all the shit he endured? Are we just kidding ourselves and holding onto false hope?”
Draco shook his head, looking around for you, hoping you weren’t in earshot. “There’s no way. He could not possibly have survived. I heard that on the second anniversary, they’re going to add his name to the In Memory speech. It seems as though everyone has accepted it now, except her.”
“I’ll tell her,” Theo says dejectedly. He didn’t want to break your heart even more. “It’s best it comes from me. I don’t want her to get blindsided by the news when it happens; she already has nightmares every night about the war. Like the rest of us, she carries those scars, mental and physical. She won’t like it.” he trails off with a deep sigh, placing his head in his hands, mentally psyching himself up to go have this conversation yet again.
He leaves the Great Hall in the direction of the Slytherin dorms. It wasn’t hard to know where you would be - you spent all your time in his bed, wearing his clothes and, in Theo’s mind, prolonging your hurt.
“You’re wrong, Theo!” You whimper, staring at your boyfriend's best friend standing at the door to his and Mattheo’s dorm. “He can’t be gone! There’s no way he's gone! We killed his father! You were the one who cast the curse!”
He opens the door of the dorm, seeing you sitting on his bed, reading your book, his pillow between your arms. “Hey, we have to talk.” He says, leaning against the doorframe. “They want to add his name to the list of students who died. I think it's time, Bellissima. I think you need to let him go. He died protecting the school, its students and you.”
Theo sighs, running his fingers through his curls. “Ape, he’s gone. There are so many places his body could be that would have been hidden. Yes, we killed his father, but that does not mean he didn’t have a hand in his death. I miss him, too. I miss him like you wouldn’t believe it, but you need to accept that he’s gone. He would want you to move on, apa.”
Your tears began to slide down your cheeks as Theo carefully sat beside you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. It didn’t take long for your whimpers to turn into full sobs as you hid your face against his chest. Words can not describe how terrible Theo felt at that moment, holding you once again as you sobbed into his chest. He wanted you to move on, to move on from all the pain and memories that place had, but until Mattheos body was recovered, he knew it was impossible. He held you as you cried, resting his chin on the top of your head, just as he has done almost nightly since the battle ended.
Theo pulls you away from him once all your tears dried up. “Please come for dinner, ape. The others are asking about you, and I want you to eat something, please.” He brushes your hair from your face, looking at you earnestly.
You nod softly, wiping your eyes. “O-okay. I do miss Reggie and Ferret Boy.” you chuckle at the nickname. Draco absolutely hated it, but he begrudgingly accepted it from you. “And obviously Enzo.”
Theo stands up first, taking your hand and carefully helping you to your feet, his hands on your shoulders to keep you balanced. Once you finished mentally preparing yourself, you take his arm, leave the dorm, and make your way upstairs to the Great Hall. You keep your eyes down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. Theo keeps you close; his imposing height and proclivity for fighting keep everyone away from the two of you.
“There she is.” You could hear Draco say as you and Theo step into the Great Hall. Tentatively, you look up, meeting the eyes of your favourite ferret. He smiles, waving you over. You and Theo make your way to the Slytherin table before joining your friends. “You look good, Bee,” Draco says once you’re sitting between him and Lorenzo.
“Fuck yeah, you do,” Enzo says next, pulling you into a side hug, and Theo rounds the table and sits across from you, beside Regulus. “I missed having my favourite Slytherin around. It’s not the same without you.”
“You see me in class every day, Enz…” You mutter, looking at him. You had no idea why they missed you because you still went to all your classes with them. “I’m still around; I don’t know what you mean?”
“I just mean...” Lorenzo begins, but a second voice interrupts him. You look up and see Cormac McLaggen standing just behind Regulus and Theo, a stupid, cocky smile plastered on his face.
“He means your depressed ass isn’t worth being around,” Cormac says, his friends laughing at the face you were making, your eyes welling up with tears. “Fuckin’ crybaby. If you miss that cunt so much, why not join him? Just do it in front of me so I can enjoy you.”
Within seconds of the last sound leaving Cormac’s mouth, Theo was on his feet, colliding his fist into Cormac’s nose, sending him sprawling against the empty table behind him. Before anyone realized what had happened, Theo was on him, landing punch after punch into his face.
Regulus joins in, the two of them taking turns being Cormac’s face until he is 50 shades of black and blue. His nose bent at a noticeable angle, his eyes were actively swelling and already turning black, and his cheek caved in. Several of his fingers bent out of shape, and he most certainly had several broken ribs. He lays motionless on the table, barely conscious as Madame Pomfry and McGonagall come rushing over.
“Mr. Nott, Mr. Black, what is the meaning of this!?” McGonagall demands, looking between Cormac and the two Slytherins.
Theo looks up at her, his lips pulled into a tight line, his whole body tense. “He called Mattheo a cunt, called his girlfriend a crybaby and told her to kill herself in front of him so he could fuck her dead body.” He stated matter of factly. He knew he was justified in his merciless beating.
“And I meant every fucking word. She’s a depressed bitch who needs to join her” beloved” if she missed him that much” Theo, Regulus and McGonagall could hear Cormac's strained laughter after he finished speaking.
Theo grabs him by his collars, hauling him up so their faces are inches apart. “If I hear you say anything about her or Mattheo, I will cut out your tongue with a pair of rusty scissors and watch you bleed to death. Got that, Cormac?” Theo drops him back on the table, spitting in his face before turning around and seeing you hiding your face against Draco’s jacket.
“Detention for you both! And 50 points from Slytherin. Each.” McGonagall states, looking between Theo and Regulus before turning her attention to you. “As for you, dear. This really is not good for you; you need to accept that Mr. Riddle is no longer with us. You need to move on and focus on your academics.”
“Excuse me…” you mutter, pushing away from Draco and running out of the Great Hall. You blink away tears as you navigate through the school. You didn’t know where you were going; you just needed to know you had to get away. Away from everyone who believed he was dead, away from everyone who told you to move on. Away from it all.
You found yourself at the top of the Astronomy tower, looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts. You sigh, remembering all the blood and carnage that decorated the grounds years before. You look over at the Forbidden Forest, the last place you saw Mattheo alive. He saved you from a death eater’s imperious curse by casting his very own Unforgivable curse - Avada Kadavra. You didn’t even have a chance to thank him before he was snatched up and dragged away by Fenrir Greyback. The last thing you heard from him was him yelling that he loved you and that he would find you again, in this life or the next.
You could hear a commotion below you on the grounds, but you paid it no mind. You were tired, tired of everyone telling you he was dead, tired of everyone bringing it up, tired of looking at your body in the mirror and seeing all the scars from that cursed battle on your skin, forced to relive it day after day. The PTSD was too much for you to handle, so you decided to jump, to end everything once and for all. You knew Theo and Regulus would be in detention; Draco and Enzo were probably tormenting them, so there was no one to stop you.
You pull your robes off, folding them neatly on the ground before grabbing your phone and writing a quick note, an explanation of why you did it. You carefully place your phone on top of your robes before stepping back up to the railing, intending to throw yourself off it when your phone rings. You picked it up again, only to see Theo’s name pop up. Odd, he should be in detention right now; you decide to answer it, acutely aware it could be one of Cormac’s minions ready to continue what he started.
“Hello…?” You answer timidly, walking back to the railing. The commotion happening below you was getting louder. Clearly, you were about to have an audience.
“Don't do it, my love. I need you!” The voice on the phone sounded too much like Mattheo, but you knew it couldn't be. He was dead; everyone believed it, and you were going to be next.
“Who are you, and why do you have Theo’s phone? He’s in detention right now.” You say, anger beginning to surge to the surface.
“You know who I am, love. Please, please don’t. Don’t listen to Cormac, he’s a scumbag. I need you; Theo and Reggie need you. Draco and Enzo need you to. We all need you. Please, my love, don’t do it.”
Your hand grips your phone, trembling. “I'm going to do it. Cormac was right. I'm going to jump and put an end to everyone's misery.”
The voice began talking again, sounding frantic. “Please, baby. Please don't jump. I can't bear to watch my only light extinguish herself. Please, Theo's on his way to get you, but please, please step away from the railing.”
“I don't know who I'm talking to, but it's not Mattheo. I don't believe you! You're just made up, a figment of my imagination. You're not real! He’s dead, and everyone believes it! But I'm going to be joining him soon!” You step forward, swinging one leg over the railing, tears streaming down your face.
“Mon Coeur, please….”
You swing your other leg over the railing, looking down at the dizzying height, ready to let go, when a pair of strong arms wrap tightly around your waist, pulling you back to safety.
“No! Let me go! I want to do it! I want to end it all! Please just let me join him!” You cry, fighting with whoever it was that grabbed you.
The arms wrap tighter around you before a familiar Italian accent hits your ears. “Ape, he's alive. You were right. He's at the bottom of the stairs. Come down, come with me, and we can see him together.”
“You're wrong, Theo! You told me he's dead! You and everyone else kept telling me he was dead and I needed to move on. Why are you tormenting me like this? Why are you doing this? Please just let me die.” You sob, fighting against Theo’s grip.
Theo rests his chin on your head. “If you're not going to walk down these steps, I'm going to carry you down, but we are going,” he says, very matter-of-factly. You give up, knowing Theo is serious. He notices the call is still connected, so he grabs the phone from your hand and puts it to his ear. “I have her; she’s safe in my arms. We're on your way down, Matt.”
“Oh, thank Merlin. Okay, I'll see you two soon.” Mattheo says a wave of relief washing over him. He was so thankful she believed he was still alive. If only he had gotten to you sooner, maybe you wouldn't have fallen this far into the darkness. All that mattered was he was about to see you again for the first time since the battle.
You and Theo slowly begin to descend the stairs; he has his arm wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you stable since your anxious trembling makes each stair dangerous. The closer to the bottom you got, the more your heart pounded in your chest. Theo wouldn’t lie…right? He wouldn’t pretend Mattheo was alive and the voice on the phone sounded so much like him, but it couldn’t possibly be him. You knew what Greyback was capable of; there’s no way Mattheo survived that.
You and Theo arrive at the bottom of the stairs, and there, standing right in front of you, is Mattheo - an older, more scarred and more traumatized version of Mattheo, but it is still Mattheo, your Mattheo.
You let go of Theo, nervously walking towards him. “Matty…?” You ask, gently touching his cheek. He cups your hand with his, leaning into your touch, his eyes meeting yours. You knew those soulful brown eyes anywhere; this is your Mattheo.
He smiles, taking your hand and kissing your palm, just as he always did before. “In the flesh, Mon Coeur. I missed you so much. I dreamt about you every night when I wasn’t plagued with nightmares. I was so scared you had either died or moved on, and I would never have you in my arms again, never wake up with your perfect face, never listen to you talk about everything you loved. Draco told me you never gave up hope, even when everyone else did. Thank you, baby. Thank you for not giving up on me.”
“But how…?” you question, meeting his eyes, pleading with him. “How are you still alive? E-everyone believed you died…I saw you! I saw Greyback take you! A-are you really him?” You ask, step away, your suspicions growing. This has to be some sort of prank.
Mattheo’s face fell, his smile replaced by a heartbroken frown. “I promise, I am who I say I am. What can I do to make you believe me, amour?”
You look at him, wanting so desperately to believe. “How did you survive? Where were we, and what was the last thing you said to me?”
“We were in the forbidden forest; I told you I love you, and I would find you in this world or the next.” He smiles, seeing the doubt melt away from your eyes. “And as for how I survived. My brother. Tom.”
#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle angst#slytherin boys angst#suicide#grief#mental health#tw death#death#violence#bullying
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Each of the seven Narnia books has a moral message or theme at its foundation. Every major beat of the story is centered on and refers back to this theme, so if you take away or alter the theme, you alter the entire foundation of the story. Obviously these themes/messages align with Christian principles because this is Lewis we’re talking about. So, my interpretations of the themes are the following:
Magician’s Nephew is about taking responsibilities for your actions, LWW is about being selfless but also about forgiveness, Horse and His Boy is about the golden rule, Prince Caspian is about belief without proof, Voyage is about conquering temptation/evil within yourself, and Silver Chair is about trusting in God’s plan even when it doesn’t make sense, and Last Battle is about hope and doing what you think is good even when it seems hopeless.
Which I think is one of the reasons the Voyage movie falls flat when compared to the other two. One explanation is that it changes many things from the book, but Prince Caspian does that too. Both movies make drastic changes from their source material, but Prince Caspian doesn’t feel (at least to me) as drastically changed as Voyage, because Voyage’s changes go down to the very foundation of the book’s theme. Lewis is saying that there is ‘evil’ in everyone that we all have to repeatedly overcome while the movie is saying that evil is outside of us and that we can overcome it once and be done with it, which drastically changes the central theme of the story. Prince Caspian on the other hand adds a lot of the story but all of the changes stay true to the central theme of belief without proof (or they correct some of Lewis’ inconsistencies). You can change the details all you want for the most part, but the core theme of the story has to remain the same otherwise it’s just not the same story so it won’t feel the same.
So there’s this really big essay I want to write detailing all the changes and how they alter the theme or go along with the theme etc.
#I have every deep feelings about this#like can talk for hours on end feelings#I should just start writing the essay but its grown so big from when I first started thinking about this a few years ago#I do have some of it written or outlined but I would love to write the whole thing#It just feels too big to causally write#the mental blocked have grown so large#but causally writing it is probably the only way it will get written#:(#narnia#the chronicles of narnia#prince caspian movie#the voyage of the dawn treader movie#prince caspian#voyage of the dawn treader#this is something I really hope greta gerwig understands#like theres a lot you can do with the stories that would align with what seems to be her own personal theme that will still ring true with#the original theme of the book#but you actually have to understand the original theme in order to do that
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as someone who read the books I feel like the show creators decided to make Lady Whistledown this mean, reputation-ruining person instead of harmless gossiper simply to create drama, because in the books she kinda doesn't really add anything until Penelope's book and even their she is mainly an outlet for Penelope to write her opinions because she is too insecure to share them in public ( which is why when she gives it up after finally growing some confidence is such good moment, she doesn't need Whistledown anymore to say what she thinks). The show made Whistledown way too important and her words have way more consequences while not having Penelope face theses consequences or realize how wrong she is, so she comes off as mean and a jealous person. I thought this season might actually have Penelope realize her wrongdoings and try to make amends ( and it almost seems like they were about to do this in the first episode) but then nothing really seemed to change, in fact I feel like she enjoys her power even more so now, and having her hide her identity from Colin is honestly messed up on so many levels, like girl you are doing the same shit you judge Marina for. Also I have this feeling that she is gonna continue being Whistledown even after this season ends which completely ruins the point of Penelope finding confidence and saying what she feels without hiding behind mask.
I haven’t read the books, but based on what people say Whistledown is like in the books I think that the Show made her a bigger deal to add a gimmick to the show. It wasn’t enough for it to be a sexy historical fantasy romance show, the BBC does about five of those every year, no in order to get Netflix to sign up they needed a twist and that twist was Regency Gossip Girl - they had something like that in the books they just had to up the ante by a lot to make it more dramatic
Which is why I don’t think that they are going to have Penelope give up being Whistledown (even though in order to redeem her character they need to have her give it up and make amends). Lady Whistledown on a show production level is the edge that stops this show from being a kind of poorly written wildly inaccurate historical sex romp that people have seen before.
So they can’t get rid of Whistledown without making the show less interesting.
But all of that executive level let’s make the show more interesting completely screws over Penelope, because she is no longer a shy woman expressing opinions anonymously. Now she is a cruel vicious two-faced villain who strikes without thinking things through, and she can’t truly grow from that position because the show needs Lady Whistledown.
Yet how can we have Penelope have her HEA with Colin like we are contractually obligated to do with these changes? Why by pretending that she hasn’t been doing anything wrong of course!
Which means they heightened her villainy and lowered the consequences to desperately make it seem like what she has been doing is cool actually.
On an in-universe level, it is super messed up that Penelope is now doing the exact same thing Marina did that Penelope punished her so terribly for - entrapping Colin into a marriage under false pretences
But that’s kind of the corner the show painted itself into
Thanks for the ask Anon it was super interesting
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one more midnight without you
ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia
summary: Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say. Natsu learns this lesson the hard way as he learns the what it truly means to yearn.
ao3
Natsu’s pack lands with a thud on the familiar spot by the door of Lucy’s apartment. Happy’s little feet pad across the wooden floor as he makes his way to the bed in the place they’ve called home for the past month. It’s not technically their home—not legally anyway—it’s still Lucy’s apartment; her name is on the lease, and she still pays most of the rent, but Natsu and Happy are holding down the fort, as it were.
It's been a Lucy-less past few months, and while she’s never more than a phone call away, it doesn’t make the distance nor the ache in his heart easier.
She’s been living in Crocus for three months now as part of a book deal. A full-time salary for writing her next novel, but in exchange, she would be living in Crocus for the time it took her to finish and edit her manuscript. She had been apprehensive about it at first. Sure, authorship had always been a dream of hers, but her work as a guild wizard had always taken precedence over it. As much as she didn’t want to step away from the guild for that long, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and any apprehension she may have had was washed away with Natsu’s wholehearted support. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still miss her.
He falls down onto her bed with a huff and takes in the comforting scent of Lucy that still lingers in the sheets. It’s not quite as there as it used to be, but she’s lived in this place long enough that not even a few months away gets in the way of how her scent permeates the room. It brings him comfort on days where it’s a little harder than usual. It reminds him that she’s not that far away and that she’ll be coming home soon.
As if she senses his unrest, his Lacrima phone buzzes in his pocket, and through the shattered screen, he can see her name.
Lucy
Made really good progress with my manuscript today! I wrote uninterrupted for three whole hours, and then I’m meeting with my editor tomorrow! I feel like I’m really getting somewhere with this novel
Crocus is nice, but I really do miss Magnolia a lot
How are things at the guild?
Natsu
they r ok.
happy n i just got back from a job. went to a cafe where they had ur dumb coconut milk.
made me think of you.
lets go there when u get back.
His thumbs linger over the keyboard for just a moment longer as he contemplates if he should say something else, and before he can think to hold himself back, he’s hitting send.
Natsu
miss you loads.
It seems like a given that he misses her, but for some reason, it feels weird to send it, like he’s overstepping some sort of unspoken boundary. It’s felt a lot like that lately. There’s this weird feeling lingering between them. He can’t call it tension—it’s not tension—but it’s something different. It was there before she left, but she was already on a train to Crocus before they could ever get a word in about it. It’s this feeling that makes his heart squeeze tighter in his chest in a way that only Lucy can, and when he reads her reply, he feels it all over again.
Lucy
I miss you too
Even as communication Lacrima’s grew more and more popular in Fiore, Natsu had never seen a reason to need one until he was faced with distance from Lucy. He’d always been the nomadic sort, going where he wants to, when he wants to, with not much thought as to who he should let know, but now he doesn’t know how he’d ever go without his silly little late-night texts with Lucy. He’s been without her before for so much longer, but ever since having her back by his side, any distance between them is unbearable. It’s the small glimpses into her temporary life in Crocus through texts and calls that get him through the harder days where it feels like there’s a hole in his chest and only Lucy can fill that void for him.
He'd never expected it to be this hard being away from her, given they’ve done distance before under much less forgiving circumstances. It’s that weird feeling that does it to him, that makes him feel physically ill when he thinks about how her scent has begun to wane from the sheets with each day she spends away. It makes his heart squeeze in his chest. It’s not always a bad feeling. Sometimes, when his phone lights up and he sees her name on the screen, or on the chance where he gets to hear her voice on the other end, it’s a good feeling—it makes him feel like he can take on the world. On other days, when he sinks into the mattress with no one but Happy at his feet for company, the tightness is more than he can bear, and he wonders how much longer he can take it. Still, he perseveres because they’ve been through so much worse, and he’s not going to let a little distance between them be the thing that breaks him.
Lucy
Making dinner now. Want to call while I cook?
It’s a rhetorical question that she already knows the answer to. He’s never given up the chance to hear her voice before, and he’s not about to now, but she always makes sure to ask before initiating call. He hits the answer button before it can even ring once, and he knows that, at least for now, his worries will be washed away by the sound of her sweet voice, and he can pretend that she’s with him, if only for a moment.
On the wall next to Lucy’s desk in her Magnolia apartment hangs a calendar, with each month represented by a new blooming flower. It hasn’t gotten much use since she left, given that Natsu doesn’t have any use for it. Or at least, he didn’t until he got the news.
As her manuscript neared completion, Lucy found that she had a tentative date for her return, and Natsu had made sure to mark it in big, bold letters on the calendar. Each day since then has been marked off with a bright red cross in eager anticipation of her return.
The sun setting over the Magnolia horizon cast golden orange shades of light across her desk, where the marker sat, and Happy clambered onto it and peered at the calendar.
“Can I mark it off?” Happy asked, gripping at the pen cap, barely holding his excitement back.
Natsu’s gaze flicked from the view of the orange creamsicle skies over to his buddy. It was routine by now. Natsu was the one who started it, but Happy was helping him carry it on. He isn’t the only one who misses her.
“Sure thing, buddy,” he replies.
With a grin, Happy scrawls a large cross over today’s date. He’s not terribly dextrous, given that he is a cat, so it comes out a little wobbly, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that they’re one day closer to being with Lucy again, and it makes his heart do backflips in his chest.
The way the early evening sunlight hits the room makes him miss her even more.
It’s nostalgic in a way. He can hear so clearly in his mind the way she would swoon about it, how pretty it was, how it gave warmth to the room, both literally and figuratively. She would say that it inspired her and spend the rest of the evening at her desk, quill scratching away at the paper late until the night, until she nods off at her desk and he has to carry her to bed.
He wonders who’s carrying her to bed when she does the same thing now.
She’s alone in her temporary Crocus apartment—a fact that she has lamented to him many times before. She gets lonely some nights. He assumes those are the nights she calls him with the excuse that she just needs to hear his voice, and they stay on the phone until late into the night. Tonight, much to his dismay, is not going to be one of those nights. He knows that because she made a point of telling him that she’s going to spend the evening writing and that she can’t chat much because he’s “too much of a distraction." It’s much harder to annoy her into surrender over text than it is in person he discovers, when she turns her phone off. That doesn’t stop him from sending her one more text for the night.
Natsu
try not to fall asleep at ur desk tonite
When he sees the little bubble pop up on her side of the screen, he knows she’s caved in early tonight.
Lucy
I won’t!
Promise!
They both know it’s a lie, but he humours her anyway.
A breeze passes by through the open field that Natsu and Happy have decided to set up camp in. To another, it would provide a soft chill, but to Natsu, it’s nothing but a soft tickle from the wind. He waits to hear Lucy’s complaints about the weather, but they never come.
Right.
No matter how long it’s been, he still isn’t quite used to not having her with him. It’s not like the year he spent on his own. He’s still at the guild, he’s still taking jobs, he’s seeing the familiar faces that he and Lucy have passed by so many times. Lucy is the only thing that’s missing.
Based on her own estimates, she’s past the half-way mark and will be home soon enough, but every day feels like it passes by slower than the last.
He tries to make himself comfortable in his sleeping bag, but even with Happy by his side, he’s acutely aware of the empty space next to him. The tent feels empty without his snuggle buddy. They only really have the tent for Lucy’s comfort, so now that she’s not here, he supposes it can’t hurt to spend a night under the stars. Happy is fast asleep and doesn’t so much as stir when he unzips the tent door and settles himself out on the grass. He feels connected to her somehow, knowing that somewhere out there, Lucy is looking at the same stars he is.
If he squints, he thinks he can make out some of the constellations that Lucy has pointed out to him on nights not dissimilar to this. He thinks he spots Orion, his belt glowing among the black backdrop of the sky behind him. He’s never paid much attention when Lucy points out the constellations to him, happy to let her talk away and just listen to her voice, but as he puts the stars together like pieces of a puzzle in the night sky, he realises he knows more than he thought he would. There are still blanks in his mind, things he can’t quite remember, and constellations he can’t quite place, and he wants to roll over and ask her to tell him what it is he's missing, but he can’t.
He reaches his hand out to the sky, his palm facing up at the stars, before he closes his hand in a fist, as if he were grabbing the stars themselves to put in his pocket and bring to Lucy. He supposes she already has enough stars in her pocket, so he doesn’t feel too terrible when they don’t land in his hand like little pieces of konpeito.
Failing that, he rummages around in his pack for his phone before snapping a picture of the sky above him. It’s a little blurry, taken with shaky hands through the small crack in his camera lens, but it doesn’t stop him from sending it to Lucy in hopes that she’ll find some sort of joy in it.
Natsu
reminded me of you.
He doesn’t know if it’s too mushy or not mushy enough, but he doesn’t have much longer to dwell on it before he feels a wave of sleepiness overcome his body, and before long he is asleep under the stars that Lucy loves so much.
“—and then he said that he didn’t think my shoes matched my dress!”
Lucy’s voice rings out over the speaker of Natsu’s phone as he lays sprawled across her bed.
“Can you believe that? The absolute audacity of him,” she continues. “I swear I’m never going to a club in Crocus again. Those men wouldn’t know a gorgeous woman if one kicked them in the face.”
“Uh-huh,” Natsu drawls, his gaze fixated on the ceiling.
“Are you even listening?”
“Yeah, I’m listenin’,” he affirms. “You said somethin’ about some guy at a club tellin’ you your dress and your shoes don’t go together.”
“Oh,” she replies. “You really were listening.”
“‘Course I was. I only get to hear you yappin’ so much these days, so I gotta make sure I’m gettin’ all of it.”
“I do not yap!”
Her reaction elicits a cackle from him. He doesn’t mean it as a bad thing, but it’s always a bonus getting to rile Lucy up like this, so he takes the moment for what it's worth as she pouts on the other end of the line. He’s missed this.
“Tell me why I even bother,” she grumbles.
“‘Cause you love me,” he replies, the words slipping out before he even gets a chance to think much about what he’s saying.
Any other time, he’d maybe not have even thought twice about it, but with the weird air that’s been lingering between them since she left, it feels like a tender topic. Of course she loves him; he knows that without a doubt, but when he says it, it feels like there’s something underlying the word that means more than he initially lets on. But it’s too late to take it back now.
Quiet falls across the room for a moment before Lucy finally speaks up again.
“Yeah,” she breathes, her voice hardly more than a whisper over the call. “I do.”
Neither seems to know what to say after that, so she clears her throat slightly as if to ease the tension.
“I’m excited to come home,” she says.
“Soon?” He replies, hopefully.
“I really hope so.”
Happy stirs slightly in his spot at the foot of the bed. Even in the dark, his bright blue fur contrasts against the soft pink of Lucy’s comforter. Natsu can’t remember the last time they’ve stayed the night at his own place, but for some reason, at the end of the day, when he’s leaving the guild, it’s Lucy’s apartment that his feet take him to. Maybe it’s because he’s expecting her to be waiting there for him when he gets there, that when he puts his key in the door, it’ll already be unlocked and she’ll already be cozied up on her couch with a book that has taken her day away from her. She never is, as he has come to realise, but it doesn’t ever stop him from hoping.
Lucy’s bed is comfier and warmer than his own—a fact that both he and Happy seem to agree on—and it smells like her, so it feels like consolation for not having seen her in so long. She knows he’s been sleeping here, and she pretends to lament it, telling him that she’ll kick him out as soon as she gets back, but they both know it’s an empty threat. Even before she left, he had been spending more time at her apartment than he had before, an impressive feat given his history. She’s not as adamant on him leaving at the end of the night as she used to be, and so sometimes he wakes up to the sound of the bustling Magnolia morning instead of the sounds of the forest.
It's nice getting to sleep in her bed, but it’s not as good as getting to have her there.
Tonight is one of those nights where sleep just doesn’t come as quickly as he would like it to. He envies the comfortable snores Happy lets out at the end of the bed and wishes that were him instead. He knows that envy will get him nowhere, so instead he is left alone with his thoughts and the dark ceiling above him.
He wants to talk to Lucy until late in the night, like they do sometimes when they’re out in the woods. He wants her to take him out to see the stars, like she does on sleepless nights. But she’s not here, so he’s left with the cheap imitation of flecks of dust that occasionally pass him by. In his frustration, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will himself to sleep.
His attempt works, but only for so long before he hears his phone begin to ring.
He grumbles as he rolls over. Part of the reason he never wanted a phone before Lucy left was because he didn’t want to be reached at all hours. If it were up to him, he would have Lucy’s number in there and nothing else, and he would ignore whatever call was coming through. No one should be reasonably calling him at this hour, but he’s not looking to get his ass beat by Erza if, for some reason, she’s calling him for an emergency.
He blindly fumbles around searching for his phone on Lucy’s bedside table for a few moments before he grabs his phone, yanking it from the charging cord and looking at the incoming call.
On his screen is Lucy’s contact picture. It’s ugly, and it’s unflattering, and it’s his favourite photo of her ever.
He blinks in confusion for a moment before checking the time. It’s almost three in the morning, and even though Lucy is prone to a late night or two, it’s never this late. In his current hazy state, he can’t come up with a reasonable excuse for why she would be calling him this late. Instead of wondering, he simply answers the phone.
“Hey,” he croaks out.
“Hi,” she replies, her voice soft and meek, even a little bashful. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No,” he lies.
Even if she did, he doesn’t care about that. He’d rather talk to her than sleep, and he knows that if she’s calling him this late at night, it’s probably important.
It falls quiet between them, as though she’s thinking through what to say, as though there’s no real reason for her to be calling him this late. He doesn’t speak up in that quiet period. He wants to let her start, wants to hear her voice.
“I miss you,” she finally says.
“Yeah, I miss you too,” he replies, honest and wholeheartedly. “Is that why you called?”
“Sort of,” she murmurs.
It falls quiet for a few moments before she finally speaks up again.
“I’m coming home.”
He doesn’t know if he’s heard her right at first. He doesn’t know if this is just a dream or if his mind is playing tricks on him. By her last estimations, she’s still got another month and a half to go, so the news truly shakes him.
“What?”
It’s not a graceful or perhaps appropriate reply, but he’s so out of it and unsure if any of this is even real that he can’t hold it back.
“I’m taking the next train back to Magnolia,” she tells him, and it all still feels like a dream. “Getting to write this novel is a dream of mine, but...” She pauses as her voice cracks slightly. “I just miss you too much.”
He can hear the way her voice wavers slightly as she speaks, as though she’s holding back tears, and the sound of it is enough to elicit some of his own. He knew he missed him, missed the guild, missed Magnolia—she had said as much, but he never realised she missed it that much. She had always seemed so strong-willed about it, that she was persevering through it to see one more dream of hers fulfilled, but now here she is, in tears on the other end of the phone, telling him she’s on her way home.
He wishes she’d told him earlier. If she had, maybe he’d have been the one to cave first, to endure the torment of the train ride over to be with her. He’d miss Magnolia too, but gods if it wouldn’t have been worth it to be with her. She had seemed so strong, even in the moments she confided in missing home. She was happy, and she was independent, if only for a little bit. He hadn’t wanted to be overbearing, to overstep just because he wanted to be with her all the time, to the point where it caused him near physical pain when they were apart. With everything that had been going on between them, with the weird and uncertain air that lingered between them, he had thought maybe it was for the better that they spent that time apart to sort themselves out, but if anything, it has only caused whatever feelings he’s been harbouring towards Lucy to bubble up even closer to the surface.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say, and Natsu couldn’t think it more true than right now.
“Are you kiddin’?” He asks, still unsure if he’s dreaming or not.
“No, I’m not,” she replies. “I’m at the station now. I’m boarding soon.”
If he hadn’t been awake before, he certainly is now because he feels himself practically vibrating with excitement.
He gets to see his Lucy again.
“I just wanted to call to see if you wanted to meet me at the station.”
There’s no real reason for her to be asking that. The train station isn’t too far from her apartment, and it’s not like him meeting her there would speed up the process of getting her home. Maybe she just needed him to be her pack mule, to carry all of her bags from the station back to her apartment, but it wasn’t exactly like she had packed up her entire life and taken it with her to Crocus. Most of her stuff was still back in Magnolia with him; she had taken two, maybe three, suitcases with her when she left, which he knew she could reasonably get back with her. But it doesn’t matter why she’s asking because the reason is a resounding yes, no doubt about it. He wants to see her so badly that his heart aches and races so fast in his chest that he thinks it might just jump out of his throat.
The excitement is so palpable that he arrives at the station almost an hour before she’s due to arrive. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep after she hung up the phone, and how could he? He’d woken Happy, something the poor exceed had lamented at first, but his tune was quickly changed when he found out why. This is probably the first and only time he has ever been early to the train station, but he feels like today is worth it, that this is the exception.
He’s been pacing the station the entire time he’s been there, unsure how to keep himself occupied while he waits. He’s never been a patient person, and his mind is running a million miles a second, and you can see it on his face because he’s excited, but he’s also terrified. At the very least, Happy is holding himself together and is able to calm him down with the rationale that it’s just Lucy.
It's just Lucy, and nothing has changed since the last time he saw her. It’s just Lucy, and they’ve done this before.
This will not be the first time he’s seen her after a long time apart, and he wasn’t nervous then, so why the hell is he nervous now? Or maybe it isn’t nerves. Maybe it’s excitement, but generally he doesn’t ever get excited to the point he feels like he might throw up. Everything about this feeling is weird, and so he needs Lucy to arrive right now because he feels like the only thing that will cure him is to have her in his arms.
He wrings his fingers to keep himself occupied while he waits for Lucy’s arrival. His head shoots up at every train that arrives in the hopes that it’s hers, but the first few times it’s not. He doesn’t give up, however, and is rewarded when it finally is her.
She doesn’t spot him right away, but when she does, when her gaze meets his, he is rewarded for his patience with the soft sparkle of her warm, loving eyes that seem to soften the moment she sees him. He thinks he sees the glimmer of tears in her eyes for a moment, but he doesn’t get much time to look before she’s running towards him.
His reflexes kick in fast, and he catches her when she launches herself at him with enough force to send him stumbling backwards, just a little. There are no verbal greetings because there is no need for one. Everything that needs to be said is being told through her arms around him, warm, tight, and secure. He sobs a little bit into her shoulder because he’s just so damn happy to see her that he doesn’t even care that it’s embarrassing to cry like this. It makes him feel just a little bit better that he can smell the salty tears on her cheeks too.
They stand like that for perhaps a few moments more than necessary, but he doesn’t ever want to stop holding her like this.
“You can let go now,” she mumbles into his chest, but based on the way she doesn’t pull away,.
Her words only make him hold on tighter.
“Just one more minute,” he replies, his voice muffled against her soft, silken hair.
In that moment, there is no one and nothing but them, and all the worry, all the weirdness dissipates in an instant. They can worry about whatever might linger in the in-between later, but for now, he just wants to revel in her touch, in her heat, in her love. It’s all he’s ever wanted these past few months, and he’s going to take this moment for all it’s worth.
They both know it will be more than just one minute, and Lucy does not protest.
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So many people are mad at Rick for how he portrayed the Aphrodite cabin and I feel like I’m missing something. Cus like I see a lot of people claiming he made them all rude and entitled and stuff but when I read the lost hero, they weren’t rude? Drew was an asshole who was abusing her power as the cabin leader yeah but everyone else in the cabin seemed like nice people? Like the two kids (I forgot their names) who gave piper some clothes and stuff for her quest, the kids who helped that one girl after she was kicked out of the bathroom in the middle of her shower by drew, silena and piper were straight up hero’s? I just started reading blood of Olympus (like I haven’t even gotten 5 pages in) so there might be stuff later on abt the Aphrodite kids being rude but when I read it it just seemed like drew was a shitty person and the rest of the cabin was alright but had just been taught the wrongs things, like how they had to break someone’s heart as a right of passage, there was also a scene with Aphrodite and piper about this where Aphrodite was like “yeah Drew’s kinda shitty but the rest of my kids really aren’t that bad” (not her exact words but that was the gist of the conversation). The only other thing I remember the poses the Aphrodite kids are entitled/rude is one scene from pjo (forgot which book) where it mentions that the Aphrodite kids prefer to sit out from capture the flag bc they’d rather look at their reflections in the water and stuff, and even then I might be remembering thst wrong cus it’s been a while since I read it.
All in all it really just seems like the Aphrodite kids are alright people who happen to be especially interested in love and beauty which makes sense bc their mom’s whole thing is love and beauty, so like what am I missing here and why do people claim Rick “made Aphrodite kids look bad”??
#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo hoo toa#aphrodite#aphrodite cabin#camp half blood#rick riordan#but like seriously#why is the Aphrodite cabins rep in pjo/hoo so bad#they seem like good kids
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Static Does Not Mean Still
Scott and Virgil go on a run in a nearby park to burn off some energy after an easy rescue, and the prompt 'Static electricity' is also involved in here somewhere thanks to @gumnut-logic's Unusual Whump List
This is about fluff and joyful brothers getting to run around in the sunshine. And a bit of ADHD Scott and the Hyperactivity. They are having fun and I had fun writing this.
Also thank you to @edutainer2022 for talking about this as a wip, and about Scott getting to put down his burdens and the weight of responsibility for a while to be carefree with his brothers.
---
Any rescues where no one came away bruised, bleeding and/or catastrophically exhausted were always a win in Virgil’s book. This was one of them.
The engineering foam deployed from Two had stabilised the overpass bridge structure exactly as it was supposed to before further infrastructure damage could be caused, especially to the railway line below, the main concern which had resulted in International Rescue’s call out.
Virgil had got to put his engineering degree expertise to good use, handover to the local authorities was smooth and professional with plenty of admiration on both sides for how the incident was handled, and no fancy jetpacking was even required to Scott’s disappointment.
It was a great day all in all to be finishing at noon on a Tuesday. The sun was shining, their work for now was done and everyone commuting would be able to get home safely when the rush hour hit in the evening.
Virgil took off his helmet to put it away with the gear and ran a hand through his somewhat sweaty hair, grinning at Scott as he walked up to him.
“Hey Scotty.”
“Virge!”
Scott had ditched his helmet as soon as the rescue was over and he got the all clear from Virgil which was a big improvement on protocol following and not taking unnecessary risks.
In the meantime his hair had fallen into disarray but Scott didn’t seem to mind. He put an arm around Virgil’s shoulders to give him a squeeze before going back to pacing circles on the module floor, gesturing wildly at John’s little hologram as they talked rapid fire. Something, theoretical mathematics, something. Virgil, unlike other members of the family preferred the more concrete and applicable to what was in the world in front of him branches of engineering.
Virgil did also have big brother jittering at his side with pent up energy and a flight home in his green girl that was apparently ‘not nyoooomy enough’ for Scott’s liking to get through without anyone exploding.
Scott’s hyperactivity wasn’t a bad thing, never had been when it was just how Scott was. Virgil was far happier that Scott was letting it show instead of turning it to inwards frustration and internal stress, but they did have a flight to get through which would be a lot more comfortable for them both without Scott’s frenetic energy vibrating the whole cockpit as he eyed the flight controls like he wanted to tackle them from Virgil’s hands to do aerobatics in a cargo plane.
Thunderbird One was in for maintenance as Brains and Virgil worked on replacing burnt out engines which meant Scott couldn’t go for the mad loop the looping he favoured to let off steam. Virgil’s ‘bird was a Thunderbird: she was extremely capable and manoeuvrable for her size, but stunt jet she was not designed to be.
Pulling up a map on his wrist controller, Virgil turned to Scott. “How about we get out for a bit, go for a walk? There’s even a park nearby.”
It’d be a good opportunity to burn off some energy, even if the walk would turn into a run when his brother was involved. Virgil was happy to follow him though.
Scott changed track mid-sentence, charging for the module door as he continued to chatter to an amused John. There was no eye roll from him, only the softest fond smile.
Virgil blinked and Scott was calling back to him. Alright, they were going suited and booted in IR uniforms then.
“Okay, I’m coming, Scooter!” Virgil had to jog to catch up with those long legs. Predictably.
Scott noticed, of course he did. He was stopped to bump shoulders with Virgil, bouncing on his toes to stay in one spot.
“Short stuff,” he sung out affectionately.
Out under the blue sky, with plenty time to spare and no where to immediately be, Scott was cheerful. John could call them back to Two if they were needed elsewhere but right now they had this.
Scott spun around laughing his head off when they reached the open park. Virgil couldn’t help but join him, as where else would he want to be but by his brother’s side?
Then Scott set off sprinting down full tilt down the gently sloping grassy area, as Virgil ambled along at a more reasonable pace that gave him the opportunity to look at the native trees in blossom, so different from the ones at home but equally beautiful in his mind. Okay, now he was by his brother’s side metaphorically, even if not physically.
Still, he began to run too as Scott looped back to return to him, meeting him halfway. Moving his body felt good, even if he wasn’t a compulsive early morning runner.
Scott crashed into him, catching him in a tight hug. Virgil returned it with the same enthusiasm until he lifted Scott’s feet off the ground to spin him around just to show big brother that he had it. The big brother in question cackled with delight.
He leant into Virgil and said quietly, “Thank you. I really needed this.”
Virgil held him close for that moment. “Anytime.”
Then Scott was ready to be off again, or not quite. He bounced from foot to foot, waiting for Virgil to follow as he eyed the empty playground equipment longingly.
Virgil made a shooing motion. “Go have fun, I’m coming.”
He shook his head fondly as Scott dashed towards the brightly coloured construction. Ever since they were kids, Scott had never been able to resist a climbing frame, or scratch that, any opportunity to climb whether the structure in question was designed for it or not.
Virgil sent a quick photograph of a joyful Scott mid-flight to John.
In the seconds it took to do that and read John’s reply of orange hearts, Scott had scaled the towering rope structure, perching himself at the very top, one casual hand wrapped around it to hang on as he waved to Virgil.
John got another photo as Virgil made sure to zoom in far enough to capture Scott’s broad grin.
It would make John’s day; just like him, his space brother treasured every moment of happy Scott. Those photos would find their way into the shared family album sure enough.
Scott’s joy was precious because it was too rare for him to be able to let go of the burdens he carried for long enough to indulge in carefree happiness. That he was simply allowed to, that his brothers and everyone in his life wanted this for him was a novel concept that Virgil watched Scott still struggle to believe in.
As Scott swung his way around the climbing frame, Virgil settled on the swingset, rocking himself slowly as he scuffed out the beginnings of a drawing of One and Two in the dirt with his foot, his hands tapping the notes of an entire orchestra out on the chains. Unlike John, he didn’t try to swing high enough to launch himself into orbit, but Virgil did enjoy it.
Sharper marks from the edge of his boot formed the action lines streaking away from the wings of a certain rocket plane. The rounder toe was used to sketch out Two’s curved fuselage. He used the tread to add some extra patterning around the Thunderbirds to stand in for blocky clouds streaking by. It was coming along well.
This was how Virgil wanted to spend his time: making art because he felt like it with Scott close by and having fun where he didn’t have to worry about him.
Or only a little. A sudden yell of, “Ow!” came from the slides.
From the volume and the high pitch, he judged Scott was surprised, not injured.
Virgil had to check though, but sure enough Scott was rubbing his forehead with a dramatic frown as he glared at a bar near the entrance of the slide.
“You alright, Scooter?”
“These are designed for short people,” Scott grumped.
If he was complaining, that meant it really was a minor bump so Scott wasn’t worried about worrying Virgil with it.
“Anyone’s short next to you,” Virgil teased.
“Hey!” Scott’s indignant cry echoed through the slide tube.
So did the mutter that followed. “Easy to say for someone who’s not even average height.”
Virgil hummed. He wasn’t going to immediately launch himself off to grab Scott in a headlock. He finished off his drawing, took a photo of it to send to John and so he could keep it, then jumped off the swing carefully to land on clear ground. But they were brothers and he wasn’t going to let the insult to his pride stand uncontested.
Scott was oblivious, already having turned to climb the tower again to take another turn on the slide, already over his own bump. Virgil followed, clambering up after him, wary of the low bars too ‘cause he wasn’t that short .
At the top, they met and Virgil grinned at Scott, gesturing for him to go first. Somewhere along the way, probably after getting too hot gambolling about, Scott had rolled down the upper half of his flight suit and tied it around his waist, leaving him in a wrinkled Denver college t-shirt. Virgil’s shirt, but that didn’t matter. The important detail for Virgil’s plot was that his arms were bare and in easy reach.
Scott disappeared down the slide with a whoop. Virgil went after him, not even pausing to admire the view from the top of the tower over the bright green parklands. He was on a mission.
Hunching his shoulders in was a precaution as he sat at the beginning of the slide, a just in case as the memory of Gordon’s laughter rung in his ears over the one time Virgl had gotten stuck in a building rubbish chute at demolition turned rescue site trying to slide down it in a ill advised, Scott-like move. Scott probably would’ve pulled it off, he was far too good at insane stunts, but Virgil with his broad shoulders plus his exosuit… hadn’t quite managed it.
“Virge,” Scott called up the slide, laughing, “Do I need to come rescue you this time too?”
Virgil hmphed. By staying right at the bottom, Scott was going to make this very easy for him. Big brother did totally deserve it.
Pushing off, Virgil slid down the slide, leaning into the twists and turns, all the while dragging his gloved hands along the sides. The colours flashed by and he was in all likelihood doing the ‘plotting evil eyebrows’ expression his brothers always caught onto before he could prank them.
It wasn’t his fault he didn’t have a poker face! But this time it would be far too late for Scott to do anything about it. Never let it be said only John was capable of devious plots when Virgil could plan them out with an engineer’s precision.
Virgil leapt out of the slide, then he innocently tapped Scott on the arm.
Scott jumped a foot in the air and shrieked, “YOU ZAPPED ME VIRGIE!”
The urge to giggle overpowered him as Scott threw his arms around him in what was half-tackle, half-hug.
“I got you! I got you good! ”
Scott gaped, twisting to look from Virgil to the slide and back again. “You static shocked me.”
“Wouldn’t’ve worked if you were wearing your suit properly, it would’ve dispersed the charge.”
“Oh come on!”
“You called me short.”
“‘Cause it’s true, short stuff. Always has been. And your hair!!” Scott’s smile spread across his face, big and toothy—
Virgil pouted in an attempt not to grin along. “I’ll zap you again.”
—and most importantly happy .
“You’ll have to catch me first!”
Scott ran off into the sunshine, watching over his shoulder to make sure Virgil was following. Ever the big brother. Ever there for Virgil, now with more care to make sure he wasn’t going too fast to keep up with, not just for their sakes and admittedly shorter legs, but for his own too.
Virgil followed, of course he did. But he did so laughing, not out of fear he’d be too late.
The afternoon was spent chasing joy under blue skies, surrounded by the green earth, until they both flopped down onto the grass together. Even Scott’s frantic energy had completely dispersed. This time, today, it was because of messing about like they were kids again instead of bone-deep exhaustion from hopeless rescues over too long hours in hostile conditions. Virgil treasured it.
He treasured every second with Scott, from pulling him eagerly back over to the swings to show him the slightly smudgy sketch of their Thunderbirds flying together as Scott adored them, to stopping to get icecream and waffles in lieu of a proper lunch on the walk back to Two on John’s suggestion.
The flight back home to the Island was carefree, with a take away container of icecream in the module freezer for the others and a cheery Scott by his side, both of them humming then along to the upbeat music playing from the speakers. No attempts to squish his staticky hair back into its usual crest had worked in the slightest, but that didn’t matter when Scott’s was just as ridiculous.
Virgil even let himself get convinced into guiding Two through a few loop the loops. And maybe also a couple of dives. Then some barrel rolls. Only because it amused Scott though; Virgil was not going to give him the fuel for future stunts by telling him that just maybe Virgil loved the adrenaline rush of doing aerobatics in his ‘bird like his brother did too.
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Hope you had fun reading this :D
Now i feel like I need to go find a slide or some swings and some sunshine too!
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds fanfiction#scott tracy#virgil tracy#astrawrite#earth and sky#thunderfluff#ADHD Scott Tracy#neurodivergent tracies#(Im working on the fishtank but this wip decided i was going to finish it first!)
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THEY PASSED THE TEST! VOLTURI KINGS X READER
Y/N never had any good relationship,in the past she always conformed herself with the bare minimum,her last boyfriend were absolutely horrendous,she begged all the time to him to even show a bit of his love for her but he never did.
Then the relationship turned into complete manipulation as he promised he will change and act like a man,you believed him over and over again hoping some day it will be true.
Until you started therapy,that women helped you a lot to achieve self love,self steem,and what you deserve in the person you love.Not talking about material,no,love can be show in many ways and there are many love languages.
Time later,in a ship to Volterra you met them,the Kings,Aro,Caius and Marcus,at first you were reluctant to met them,to be fair they were three men who said you are their mate,they are vampires and they are kings who rule the vampire world.
You spent your days in the library,reading through all the mistery books they have there to entertain yourself and everyday trying new recipes from a kitchen book they keep there.Or on the music room,learning easy song on the piano that you barely know how to use.Days were long and each day you noticed changes in their behaviour that made you question yourself if you should give them a try.
First month when you entered your room a huge buquet of flower,that you didnt know how but they were your favourite,was there in the middle of the room.
Everyday your breakfast was delivered to your room without question.There wasnt a day they skipped it.
All weeks you received love notes,each week from one of them,and they all have a special talent on writing romantic quotes.
Expensive jewlery appear out of nowhere every once in a while with your favourite gold color.
That list of things could go on until today,the day you decided to go in the throne room and talk to them,in private,just you…four,sounded weird.
You woke up early,and there was your breakfast,after eating it,you took a shower,changed into something nice but comfy,did your makeup natural just adding concealer,blush and lash mascara and with that you headed to the throne room.
The doors were opened for you as you entered the big room where you have been just a couple of times.
The big smile of Aro greet you as he shouted your name in happiness.
Not knowing what to said,you decided to let them talk.anyways they were the ones that had to show their truly excitment of being with you.
-Cara mia,is a pleasure to finally have you here,we decided to give you some spice as you seemed…a bit unwilling of getting to know us-Aro started.
-I was,and im still are-
-No need to be like that,we are sure you saw all our gifts right?All of that were your favourite,we got contacts-Caius,for the first time in ages,were truly happy and soft while talking.
-I can see the bound grew strong,you can give as a chance,we are good lovers for you,afterall we are mated,its not decided by us,its decided by destiny.If you dont like it,you are free to go.-Marcus said,and he wasnt lying,he and his brother agreed on letting you go if thats was what you wanted
When you hear that,your heart made a click,you want to go?No you dont want that,its not that bad here and the feeling of letting this behind was very stressful to think about.
Without warning Aro took your hand in his reading your thougts as you seemed to be zoned out.His face light up in love looking back to his brothers.
-We have a chance-
Hope you like this🫶🏼
#twilight#the twilight saga#the volturi#breaking dawn#twilight saga#aro volturi#aro volturi x reader#aro volturi one shot#marcus volturi one shot#marcus volturi headcanons#marcus volturi x reader#marcus volturi imagine#marcus volturi#caius volturi x human#caius volturi headcanons#caius volturi x reader#caius volturi imagine#caius volturi
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Is High Lady a legitimate position? or was that just made up to make Feyre legitimately the most powerful fae (like her mate)? Does being a high lady require a different set of socio-political functions than any lady in Prythian? Or are they just ladies in positions of power who are really really powerful?
Also, should Elucien be the main couple in the next book, how do you want SJM to explore other courts since Lucien is connected to a lot of them?
Lastly, idk if you answered this but what attributes from Feysand and Nessian made you shy away from them becoming high king and queen? After seeing your posts about characteristics of Elucien that make them suitable to rule, I'd like to hear more from you!
This is not a hater question if you ship the canon couples. Hope you have a great day.
High Lady was a legitimate position at one point though it seems to have fallen out of favor as of late, probably because certain "dictator-like" High Lords who wed had / have the mentality that their wives are not their equals (i.e. Beron, Rhys's father).
I imagine the way Sarah has written it is that High Lady is different than other Lady's in society in that they are the rulers of a court. They share in the same decision making process / voice of authority for a court that a High Lord would. I actually think it has less to do with power and more to do with being the ones to set the laws, where those who work for them are expected to follow their orders when they do issue commands (a sometimes necessary thing).
Where their purpose is to ensure the safety and well being of their people.
As for as Elucien exploring other courts, I feel like Spring is where they'd spend a good bit of time because Spring is the court that needs the most work. The people have been ignored, the land is beginning to die and it's army is something the NC needs as an ally (not to mention a strong force against Beron).
Day I think they'll travel to in order to learn more about Elain's powers.
I think Autumn will be where they visit after Beron is defeated so Lucien can reconnect with his mother.
The human lands to meet with Jurian after Vassa is forced to return, I think we'll also see Elain finally put Graysen in his place.
Feysand are decent enough leaders.... To the Night Court. Everything they do is to protect the people of Velaris (not even so much other territories there) and while it can't be denied that they do love their citizens, they have proven they are willing to use the people of other courts as collateral to prioritize their goals.
Yes, they fought for all fae and humans during the war but Rhys's first priority during Amarantha’s reign was Velaris. Feyre was willing to displace innocent people in Spring in order to get revenge on Tamlin.
So while they do often care for many, they are still willing to sacrifice them at other times. A High King and High Lady will not make good rulers if they're already showing favoritism.
Nessian, I think it's a bit of the same not to mention Cassian is clearly uncomfortable with the political game which is territory being in charge comes with, like it or not. Nesta does fight for others but that character trait typically comes out only when she sees someone truly in need of a fighter and only when she deems it to be something truly unjust. I.e., she did speak up in the High Lords meeting but only after Beron declared the meeting was over. And Feyre initially asked her to tell her story during the meeting and Nesta refused. Nesta is a lot nicer to those she considers weak than those who are equal to her or more powerful. And she chose to ignore the people of Velaris after the war, choosing instead to drink and gamble for a year. I'm not faulting her for that, I understand she was depressed. But I think someone who is a leader tries to move forward and focuses on the needs of the people rather than letting themselves get sucked into themselves. It's kind of why Tamlin isn't the best leader, he let his depression overtake the needs of his court.
But Elain, after losing her father and Graysen and her humanity helped the fae in Velaris rebuild their gardens after the war even though we know she was still struggling. She made an effort to learn what fae traditions meant to them though she grew up fearing their kind. She became invested in the people rather than focusing on her losses. Her personality makes it possible for have decent a relationship with all personality types versus her her sisters who at times come off as combative towards others.
And Lucien? Though he's loyal, we've also been shown that he cares about the needs of the many. People get so caught up on how he didn't do more for Feyre but that's because to him there were many who also needed something. The people of spring, it's High Lord being able to help the court get back on its feet. Not to mention his choosing to help the humans rebuild after the war and sort out their politics. His willingness to help the NC.
Lucien doesn't have blind loyalty to just one place, he cares about many and to me, that is the kind of personality that would make for a fair and just High King.
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Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 5
Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here
Pairing: Walton Goggins x You
Rating/Warning: As always minor get out. Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding,kissing
Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.
Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.
Note: they are both single, all for fun.
I think I may have an ending now. Posts will continue to be 2-3k long. Every other day more than likely.
*As always thank you so much for the love. I have another AU brewing, as well as some fallout stuff. So please be sure to stick around to see what's next. *
***
Three weeks go by quickly. Time always flies when you are busy. Liz has gone back to her usual snot-nose self. Basically avoiding you at all costs unless you have to swap information. Katie had also taken the same stance on things. She was much more curt and would regularly give you side eyes. It hurt. You'd always like Katie, she may not have been a friend but the cold shoulder was rough. You'd also been traveling a lot more. The nice thing was Trevor and you would share rides. If you were slated to travel south of town you'd pick him up. North and he'd pick you up. Most mornings you'd try to snooze a little on the drive. He never pushed things, not that there was anything to push. But it was still nice not to have questions about your lackluster love life. Instead, you would just talk about him and Decon. They were getting on famously and had talked about potentially moving in together.
As for Walton, he was his usual goofy self, but there was something off. He doesn't touch you as much. No hand on your elbow, or quick cheek kisses as he leaves the trailer. He wouldn't drag his chair over to make sure he sat beside you so that he could show you something funny he found on Instagram. Instead of sitting himself a little further from everyone, he seemed to have distanced himself from most of the crew. You didn't realize how much you noticed all the little things until they were gone. You've taken to eating lunch in the makeup and hair trailer. Trevor has been hanging with Decon and the rest of the props department. As much as you enjoy the company you can't help but feel like a third wheel. So eating alone while reading a book is just easier. Plus the book took your mind off the fact that you felt a heart-sick. Even though nothing had transpired, you had been more hopeful than you had realized.
So instead you‘re busing yourself, already lining up another show for when this one is finished, which is a huge relief. Having a show slated ahead of time can be daunting and it depends on who you vibe with more than your talent. Thankfully your name has gotten out there, untarnished by Liz and you've clicked with a few heads of departments who are happy to have you. Your year is full, you even let yourself look over apartment listings. A good half of them are way out of your price range. The other half is several cities away, and with how expensive gas is, the lower rent wouldn't matter.
You let out a sigh checking your watch. Another fifteen minutes before the trailer would be swamped with people. You briefly wonder if you could get a nap in. The last week of night shoots had worn you out. A knock on the door pushes that thought away.
“Come on in.” You call out expecting an AD or maybe Costumes to come in.
The door opens and Walton comes in, hat and sunglasses blocking out the unusually sunny day. You felt slightly annoyed that you'd have to redo his face, and Trevor would have to unflatten his hair. Your heart speeding up pushed that out of your mind.
“Hey, Walton.” You say, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the butterflies in your stomach along with your elevated heart rate.
“Hey, gorgeous,” He says with that wicked grin as he settles in the chair across from you. The nickname makes you straighten yourself up.
“You're a bit early. But I don't mind,” You say, reminding yourself that you need to keep your distance if you are going to make it the next few months.
“I am actually here to ask you a question.” His hands adjust his clothing. You wonder for a moment if he is as nervous as you are. The morning from nearly a month ago playing out, the thought of him full of jittery energy as you sat with him.
“Oh?” You ask, taking a sip from your water bottle to hide your smile.
“Would you like to come out for dinner with me?”
You worry at your lip for a moment. The man had barely spoken to you for almost a month and now was suddenly asking you out. It really didn’t make much sense.
“Sure, who else is going?” You ask, having convinced yourself that he must have arranged a get-together like the weekend previously. There was not a snowflake in hell chance he was asking you on a date.
He looks down at his hands fiddling with his watch and taking off his shades to look at you. “Was kind of hoping it would be just the two of us,”
Now your face is flushed, was this happening? “Oh- umm- like a date?”
Walton's cheeks turn pink and he rubs the back of his neck. Damn, you'd missed how bashful he'd get about you. “Yeah, a date. There's a sushi place close to me that I've been wanting to go to.”
“I would love that,” the words fall out of your mouth before you even have time to think. He grinned, his whole face lighting up, making the monetary lack of judgment worth it.
“Could I pick you up at your place around seven?”
You have a smile breaking across your face. “Now here I was worried about giving some ‘random man’ my address.”
His hundred-watt smile lights you up and you are half tempted to go kiss the dang fool. “I promise to only drive by a few times.”
The door opens and Trevor is coming in. You swore the man had both the best and worst timing.
“Hey, you.” His face changes as he sees Walton. If thought bubbles were real you were certain ‘oh shit’ would have hung over his head. “I seem to have excellent timing interrupting you both.”
“No, you're good,” Walton waves his hand at him, a small smirk still pulling at his lips. “Was just ready to get myself looking good for the next scene.”
***
Trevor has been trying unsuccessfully to get you to spill the beans. But you refuse to tell him anywhere near where people could overhear you both. You'd rather avoid any more scoldings from Liz. The last thing you wanted was for her to get even more pissed off than she already was.
The day is finally done, and you're anxious to get home and change. Trevor follows you to the parking lot chattering about his plans with Decon. You can tell it's taking everything in him not to pester you for more details.
“So are you going to tell me? Or do I need to follow you home?” He finally gives in. Part of you doesn't want to tell him, the rumor mill could feed itself. But this was Trevor, someone who you actually liked as a friend. He wasn't going to spill the beans on you.
You sigh, unlocking your car and dropping your purse into the front seat “I am just going out for dinner.”
Trevor's face lights up, and he all but screeches, “Really!?”
You tap his shoulder and he immediately calms down. Looking around you are relieved no one seems to have heard his excited chatter.
“Really, you're actually going out on a date with Walton?” The man is so excited he is vibrating. He may be more excited than you are.
You do your best not to laugh at him “Yes, we are, the first date. It's nothing serious, just going to eat sushi.”
Trevor's eyebrows narrowed, confusion gracing his face.“Wait. It’s your first date?”
You turn back to eyebrows scrunched, “Yeah. He's barely spoken to me until today.”
Trevor looks surprised, “Wait. Hold on. I thought you two had just taken things” He makes indistinguishable hand motions. “Outside office hours.”
“What? No. He's practically avoided me since I broke down a month ago.” You are shocked that he hadn't asked about this before.
“Holy hell. It took him that long to get it together.”
You groan looking at your watch. “Stop it. I have to get going. Please don't tell anyone.”
Trevor made the zipper motion over his lips. “But you better text me when you get home. I want all the details.”
You roll your eyes but nod as you finally get in the car. Knowing full well you'd have a novel worth of text to read by the end of the evening.
***
Once home you jump in the shower. Braiding your hair like Trevor had taught you, two braids on either side meeting in the middle and down the back. Mascara, eyeliner, and some tinted moisturizer go on. It’s quick and simple but does the job. Once you are mostly dry you move over to your stand-up wardrobe. You curse at the fact that eighty percent of your clothes are either black or stained. Throwing caution to the wind you find a pair of black denim jeans and loose loose-fitting purple top. It's not like you're walking the red carpet. You wanted cute but functional. Digging around you're surprised when you find a pair of non-scuffed boots. They fit relatively well and shouldn’t give you blisters if you end up going for a walk.
A black handbag is filled with bits and bobs. Lip Chap, hair elastic, wallet, phone, a charging cable, a small container with Tylenol, mints, and ginger tablets. You also grab a black leather jacket that's light enough to carry but warm enough to protect you from the evening winds. Years of running on fumes have taught you how to move quickly and travel lightly. Most of the time problems could be solved with what was on hand.
A few deep breaths and affirmative thoughts and you feel significantly better. It was going to be a good evening you repeated to yourself. Phone buzzing, you grab it out of your bag.
“Just downstairs.”
You quickly reply that you're ‘Coming downstairs’
Grabbing your keys you lock up and head out. Trying to calm your mind as you rush down the stairs. It was just a dinner date, sushi, and some chatting. Just because you haven't been on a date for almost six years doesn't mean you need to be full of anxiety.
Being single and working in film meant you either dated folks who also worked in film or you didn't date. Unfortunately, you didn't have a bisexual bone in your body. Not to mention that most men that seemed interested were, well, slimy. So you had given up the ghost and thrown yourself at work. Now here you were walking down the hallway to get picked up by a man. Not just any man either, Walton Goggins, a man that could pull anyone and he had certainly pulled you. It felt a little surreal and frightening.
You stop at the door and try to still your mind. Then you push through and he is parked right outside. Leaning against his vehicle like he doesn't have care in the world. He's wearing a loose-fitting navy shirt, several buttons undone at the collar, with black pants, sunglasses, and a hat. Walton’s face breaks into a crooked grin when he sees you, his body unfurling as you come closer. You'd be lying if you didn't want to find out what was under that shirt.
“Well, aren't you looking good?” He says licking his lips and watching you come towards the vehicle.
You blush as you meet his shade covered eyes. “Not too bad yourself.”
He chuckles, and opens the door, “After you, m’lady”
The drive is relatively short, being later in the evening meant that most traffic was gone. You both chat about the week, minor set annoyances, and future plans. Walton’s hand never leaves yours, his eyes occasionally glancing over at you. If he had asked you to just drive around you would have agreed. Walton parks the car in the parkade, and the two of you get out. He laces his fingers in yours as you walk down the sidewalk.
The sushi place is tucked back off the main street in an old historical building. The sign is worn and the door hasn’t been painted in years. It was going to be good food. The server places you both in a booth in the back corner of a relatively empty space. The lights are dim and it feels cozy. You two sit beside each other and look over the menu.
“Have you ever had Takoyak?” He asks, pointing at some deep-fried balls on the menu.
“No, I haven’t. They are squid right?” You ask.
“Yes, they are delicious. I would recommend them, oh and okonomiyaki.” The fact that he can pronounce half of the words is impressive.
“Do you want to share a few things?”
“I think that is a marvelous idea.”
The two of you order a table full of various goodies and some Saki. You share them and talk about the different foods you’ve tried. You remember vaguely the discussion you had a month ago, and he fills in on some of the more foggy details. You have no idea how long the two of you had sat there, most of the food has disappeared and you’ve found yourself thigh to thigh with the man. You lean back and hum, feeling slightly overstuffed and most definitely sleepy.
“You worn out?” He says, his hand tracing patterns on your knee.
“Mmm, a little bit,” You lean your head against his shoulder, he’s warm and you can’t help how comfortable you feel.
“Why don’t we get out of here?” He says quietly kissing the top of your head.
You nodded in agreement, really you’d go anywhere he’d want to go.
Outside the cool night has settled in, and you shiver slightly, tucking yourself into your jacket. Walton grabs your hand and leads you down the way. Around the corner, there is a little path that leads down to the ocean. Once there you both stumble down the sand until you find some driftwood to sit on. Looking back toward the lights of downtown.
“The city is so beautiful at night,” He says, hands still holding yours.”All the lights reflect off the mountains and the seas. Looks like a painting.”
You wiggle yourself down the piece of wood so you’re resting against him, Watching his eyes sparkle as he looks at the light. Walton turns to you, watching your face, eyes going down to your lips before back up to your eyes.
You take the hint and lean into him, finally, kissing him. It feels like it’s taken so long to get here, your heart is racing and you can’t help but let yourself linger. He pushes back against you, hand coming up to hold your face. It’s over so fast. He pulls back, and you just look at him. Sharp jawline covered in stubble, slanted nose, kiss redden lips, eyes watching you.
“I want to kiss you again,” He says breathlessly, so you lean in scooting and push up against him, legs slotting between each other. You can taste the sushi and saki. If this damn man pulls away again you are going to lose your mind. But he does, you’re both breathless like two teenagers.
“It’s been a lovely night,’ He hushes his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “I wish I could stay out here with you all night.”
You smile at him snuggling closer. The two of you wrapped around each other watching the night sky. Large freight ships move in and out of the harbor, cars drive past, and other couples wander by. It’s peaceful in its own way, just the two of you holding hands and stealing kisses. You want to ask him to go back to his place. Wanting to make the first move, but you hold off. Taking things slow, and steady. It was after all your first date.
***
Chapter six
**As always thank you all so much for the love. If you'd like to be tagged for future chapters let me know! Comments, like, reblog fill the void of my writer's cold dead soul. **
#walton goggins#fanfic#writer#writing#fan fiction#fan art#fantasy#au#alternate universe#fandom#fluffy#hurt/comfort#soft Walton
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