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voraciousvore · 6 months

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Boarding School for Giants (16/25)

------ Chapter 16 ------

In the dreary rain, the world was drained of color. The sky was gray, the sidewalk was gray, pools of rain reflected gray, and the trees were looming silhouettes in the foggy gloom. Fallen leaves turned into slippery brown mush beneath my feet. I trudged onward, feeling sicker and weaker with every leaden step. The fat drops of rain slapping my shirt made my back sting. I felt numb inside. I focused on the physical sensations, as miserable as they were, to block out my thoughts. I didn’t want to think about my conversation with my mother; I just couldn’t bear it right now. I zeroed in on my immediate situation, my immediate responsibility of getting to school, rather than stepping back and looking at the big picture. Really, that was the only thing I could do to keep myself from falling apart.

Abruptly, the rain stopped hitting me, even though the downpour hadn’t ceased. A titanic, dark shadow fell over me. I froze in place and went rigid. A giant was standing over me. I gulped nervously. A sideways glance to my left revealed a gigantic black shoe I had seen many times before. I exhaled in relief, bringing my hand up to my chest. It was Mr. Henderson.

“Hey there,” his deep voice boomed from far above my head. I turned around and looked up at the colossal man, making a strong effort to hide the hollowness in my eyes. “I was looking for you back at your dorm. I thought you might appreciate a lift to school, considering the weather.” He came prepared with a gray raincoat and an umbrella.

“Absolutely! Thank you,” I responded. I hoped he didn’t notice how scratchy my voice sounded as I strained to raise it loud enough for him to hear me from his great height. He kneeled down, graciously offering me his hand, and I slowly lifted myself up and crawled to the center of his palm, so as not to antagonize my injuries. I was relieved to be able to sit down and rest after being on my feet for a while, because I was shaking and starting to feel dizzy. My body would take a while to recover from losing so much blood. The giant held his hand close to his chest, to keep me out of the rain. I leaned against the fabric of his suit, soaking in the warmth of his body heat.

“You’re walking today? Where’s your bike?” Mr. Henderson questioned innocently.

I tensed up. “Um… I didn’t want to bike in the rain.” It was a lame excuse, but he seemed to buy my lie. I didn’t want to tell him about breaking into the principal’s office, thinking he might get angry and scold me for my recklessness.

“I wanted to touch base with you and see how you’ve been doing,” Mr. Henderson said, his words vibrating through his chest as he spoke. “How’s school going?” I hesitated, not sure what to say. Should I tell him all my woes, about how my life was a total train wreck? About how my mom tried to kill me, and the principal mercilessly beat me? I wasn’t in the habit of trusting the adults in my life, or spilling my guts to authority figures. As much as I trusted Mr. Henderson, and genuinely believed he had my best interests at heart, I still had a mental block holding me back from talking to him openly. This time around, as messed up as I felt inside, I wasn’t sobbing my eyeballs out, at least not at the moment in front of him. I could hide my feelings and not burden him with my troubles.

“It’s… been a mixed bag,” I told him. Technically not a lie. “I made a friend.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy to hear that!” He was so glad for me, with that pure kind soul of his, but I just wanted to hide under his jacket, bury myself in his chest, and cry. I forced down my violent emotions again. I didn’t want to think or talk about my horrible day yesterday, I really didn’t. The memory was just too painful.

“I did run into a problem with my homework assignments,” I continued, as if such a comparatively trivial thing was the worst of my issues. “My assignments are too small for the teachers to read. I really could use access to a computer sized for a human, so I could print out or email my homework.”

Mr. Henderson stopped. “Wait,” he uttered. “You don’t have a laptop?”

“No. What made you think I did?” I answered, confused.

“Your mother told me you did when we enrolled you at this school. We don’t have human computers here yet,” Mr. Henderson explained.

I cursed under my breath. “Well, she lied.”

“Oh.” He began walking again. “I’ll talk to the board of directors, see if they can allocate some funds toward a computer for you, okay?” He was clearly irritated by the deception, but held his tongue.

“Oh, and another thing. Is there some way to lock the roof of the human dorm, so nobody can open it? I don’t feel safe knowing I’m exposed like that,” I added.

“I should be able to arrange something,” the giant assured me, thinking to himself. Traveling by giant was a lot faster than me biking or walking, so we reached the main building of the school ahead of schedule. Mr. Henderson dropped me off at the cafeteria so I could get some breakfast. “I’ll check in with you later. Have a good day!” he remarked kindly with a wave of his hand, striding off. I looked after him, sighing morosely, and fetched my breakfast. Maybe I would experience less physical weakness if I ate something.

The first period of the day came all too soon, and I could hardly pay attention with how cruddy my body felt. My back was burning like it was on fire. I couldn’t get comfortable in my chair, and kept squirming around, but every small movement I made ricocheted up my back. I bit back my tears. To make things worse, the teacher decided today would be a great day to give us a test, which I would almost certainly fail since I hadn’t learned anything in her dumb math class. Thankfully, the test was multiple choice, but I wasn’t too pleased when the teacher plopped a giant scantron sheet on the floor next to my desk, telling me to mark my answers on it. At least the test questions were scaled down to a human-sized sheet of paper. I slogged through the test, finishing all the questions before getting out of my chair to sloppily mark all the answers on the scantron. Coloring in the bubbles was a laborious process that I barely had time to complete before the bell rang. The teacher came over to collect my test, scowling slightly when she glanced at my answers. I figured she could discern just by looking how off my answers were.

I didn’t dwell too much on the test, though, as I was well past the point of caring. I braved the crowded halls again to make it to my next class, sidling up to the wall to avoid getting kicked or stepped on. My physical condition was deteriorating, and I had to stop and lean against the wall for support halfway there as a tsunami of vertigo overcame me. Once the unpleasant sensation passed, I forced myself to keep going, but I was a minute late to class. The English teacher shot me a glare as I stumbled in, but didn’t say anything, so I heaved myself to my seat. Yet again, I struggled to focus on the lesson as the teacher droned on about some influential work of literature that I didn’t care about. I hunched over in my seat and wiped cold sweat off my forehead. I wasn’t sure if I could make it much longer through the day. I might have even blacked out once or twice during the lesson, but I wasn’t too sure as I was a little delirious by this point. Mercifully, the bell rang without me having to do anything except sit there. The teacher assigned some homework, a passage to read from the textbook and a short essay.

It was time for lunch, and I desperately hoped that the break would allow me to nurse myself back to health and prevent me from passing out. Once the room and the halls cleared out a bit, I stumbled to my feet and dragged myself to the lunchroom. Distances felt so much farther without my bike, and when I felt so tired and lightheaded. The ground was firm and solid, yet I felt as if I were trudging through wet cement. I grabbed my lunch and sat down at one of the human tables, taking rapid, shallow breaths.

“Eren!” I looked up to the sound of my name to see Joey standing over me. I had been so out of it, I hadn’t even noticed his approach. I smiled weakly. “Want to join me for lunch?”

“Of course,” I answered, my voice cracking slightly. Joey didn’t seem to notice as he bent down to my level to pick me up. I stepped up into his hand with my lunch and settled into his palm. He gently lifted me up, balancing his lunch tray with his other hand, and carried me over to a less noisy corner of the lunchroom.

“I usually eat over here,” he informed me, allowing me to climb out of his hand onto the table and sitting down himself. “So, I’ve been dying to know, did you get your phone? Did you get to talk to your mom? If so, what did she say?” I forgot I had told him about my plan, and felt a twinge of regret, since I didn’t really want to talk about it.

“Yeah… I did gain access to my phone, and was able to talk to her. It didn’t go well,” I lamented. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I struggled to hold it all in. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss it right now.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry,” Joey responded dolefully. He became quiet as he ate his lunch. I took a few bites of my food, but I couldn’t stomach much with how sickened I felt. After a little while he tried making casual conversation with me, but I was hardly listening, and mostly replied with monosyllabic grunts. I was feeling worse and worse, and couldn’t focus on anything. My vision was beginning to gray at the edges.

I suddenly became aware that Joey’s face was very close, close enough that I could reach out and touch the bridge of his nose if I was so inclined. “Eren, are you okay? You seem out of it. You’ve barely touched your food or spoken more than a few words,” Joey observed. “And you’re looking very pale. Are you feeling ill?” I could confirm with my ghostly reflection in his glasses.

“Uh… I have been a bit under the weather, yes,” I mumbled. His chocolate eyes searched mine in a way that pierced my heart. Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I quickly turned away so Joey wouldn’t see.

“What’s that on your back? There’s a red stain or something on your shirt,” Joey inquired. I cringed. Before I could think of a good answer, I felt his massive fingers gently touch my back. Unfortunately, with how sensitive my wounds were, his touch instantly stung me with pain. I reflexively shrieked and flinched away. Joey, not expecting this reaction, recoiled his hand back with a look of shock.

“Eren, are you hurt?” he asked in a serious tone. I looked up at him and the tears started to flow; I couldn’t hold them back any longer. “Let me see,” he insisted. I hesitated. “Come on, show me,” he urged again. Realistically, I recognized that I couldn’t deny what had happened any longer. Feeling cornered, I turned so my back was facing him and gripped my multiple layers of shirts, which by now were saturated with fluid. I lifted up my clothing to reveal the grisly, inflamed slashes and the hideous bruise that covered my entire back.

Joey gasped in horror. “Oh my God.” His mouth gaped open and his eyes bulged wide. “Eren, what happened?! We need to get you to a hospital!” I didn’t respond, just cried harder. Joey encircled me with his gigantic hands, gingerly lifting me up off the table in a way that didn’t antagonize my injuries. Cupping me carefully in his palms, he hastily walked out of the cafeteria. I finally succumbed to the dizziness I had been suffering from all day and blacked out in his hands.

Next chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/voraciousvore/731607111106166784/boarding-school-for-giants-1725?source=share

1st chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/voraciousvore/731600430392639488/boarding-school-for-giants-125?source=share

#g/t #giant/tiny #giant #tiny #giant tiny #sfw g/t #g/t fluff #size difference #boarding school for giants #g/t writing

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nijjhar · 2 months

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Faithful sons of Abraham of 100 per cent Semitic race returned under Mos... Faithful sons of Abraham of 100 per cent Semitic race returned under Moses and no killing to occupy the Promised Land -1. https://youtu.be/1rxwwKS_oeg WHY THE JEWS OUTWARDLY SHOULD NOT KILL THE FAITHFUL SONS OF ABRAHAM? By Chaudhry Rajinder Nijjhar, M.Sc. Retired Senior Lecturer in Metallurgy, KNUST, Kumasi, Ghana. The demiurge Potter of Nature at large that is visible to the two natural eyes Yahweh, Brahma, Khudah, etc. created the six types of people represented by the Six Candles of the Menorah and they perform social, economic and political works evil and holy. The moral teacher as defined by Christ Jesus in Matt 13v52 is the owner of a House called Synagogue who bringeth forth Treasures Old, the written corruptible Scriptures and the New, the Oral Torah, which is the End Product of the logical reasoning called “Logo” and Logo is “His Word”, the Very Face of God Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc. That is, the Tree of Life is Scripture with its Taproot Oral Torah that you cannot see like the Scriptures but Perceive in your own heart through logical reasoning. Thus, Moses saw the Face of God and He showed the reflection, the written Moral Laws of Moses based upon His Word, the Oral Torah that gets written over your own heart through “logical reasoning”. Typical example of the relationship between the “Written corruptible Scriptures” and the knowledge of the Oral Torah through logical reasoning is that Abraham was of the Semitic race and so were his sons; Elder Ishmael born of the concubine Hagar and Isaac born of the real wife Sarah. Now, the property of the Father Abraham belonged to his real son Isaac and so, Abraham took Hagar and her son Ishmael made them comfortable outside the Boundary of the “Promised Land”, which was the Garden of Eden lacking nothing so far the sons of Isaac remained faithful to Abraham and Yahweh. Now, Jacob had 12 sons and out of them, only the youngest Joseph was speaking the Truth to his father Jacob whilst the others were telling lies to father to keep him happy. Out of the jealousy, the 11 liars and murderers – John 8v44 – sold the faithful to Abraham and Yahweh son Joseph to the Egyptians and through his spirituality, he rose to the highest position in Egypt, the ever faithful sons of Ishmael to Abraham and Yahweh – Prodigal son Isaac. The remaining in the Promised Land being not the “Salt of Abraham”, Yahweh stopped rain and the whole land became barren. Out of hunger, they had to move to Egypt where Joseph got them the best land to settle but the old habits die hard and their crooked way of life soon landed them as slaves to the Egyptians, who maltreated them so much that Moses brought them over as the faithful sons of Abraham and the same Land became lush green to welcome the Prodigal son Isaac back. As Father Abraham loved his Real Son Isaac more than that born of the concubine, the Elder Son Ishmael was jealous and he left the Promised Land resentfully and there was no killing as the people of Isaac was 100 percent of the Semitic race. So, that was under Moses when they were purely of the Semitic race as this Planet Earth belongs to Adam and his tribal sons – 144000 are all mentioned by their tribes and not the Jews to whom belongs the communal places of worship, the Synagogues. Because Ishmael was brought up by her mother Hagar, who honoured Abraham as her faithful Model Father of Ishmael, so she could not impart to Ishmael the spiritual education as Ideal Adam, Saint Abraham gave to Isaac. Thus, the people of Isaac had spirituality whilst the people of Ishmael had the “Morality” taught by Hagar. The Egyptian hospitality was world renown. Allah is NOOR and you cannot apply Shariah Laws that bind you on NOOR that sets you FREE. This Islam is not of Allah called INSHALLAH but of Mullahs called Inshmullah. JEWS THEMSELVES ARE ANTISEMITIC. A Jew is spiritual of heart inwardly and not in the flesh outwardly. So a Jew is never born or dies but the tribal people of Judah, Levi, Benjamin, etc. led by their blind guides, the “sinners” died. END TIME GOSPEL TRUTH – FREE LECTURES AND SEMINARS www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/GistEndGospel.htm www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JAntisem.htm Other:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Nobility.htm http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/tenlights.htm http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JattIslam.htm Proofs of the Virgin Birth of Jesus: - www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bojes.htm Super Hitler tribal Putin will destroy Blasphemer USA and the West. https://youtu.be/FQ9TyEEZcDQ There were no WMD in Iraq and these Blasphemer USA and Western nations destroyed his peaceful country. https://youtu.be/NIB8q3YiQZs Super Hitler Putin https://youtu.be/WCjpz-_w0y0 Private Bitter Gospel Truth videos:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JAntisem.htm www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JOHN 8V44.htm www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Rest.htm My Books:- ONE GOD ONE FAITH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bookfin.pdf John's baptism:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/johnsig.pdf Trinity:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/trinity.pdf

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memesimage-blog · 4 months

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Motivational Quotes about Learning Life Lessons

Unlock the secrets to a more enlightened life through our curated collection of ‘Quotes about Learning Life Lessons.’ Dive into a world of wisdom and inspiration from the greatest minds in history. These quotes offer profound insights into personal growth, resilience, and the art of living meaningfully. Whether you’re seeking motivation, guidance, or a fresh perspective, our carefully selected quotes are here to illuminate your journey.

Join us on a journey of self-discovery as we explore timeless wisdom and contemporary insights. These ‘Quotes for Life Lessons‘ cover a wide range of topics, from love and adversity to success and perseverance.

Whether you’re looking for daily inspiration, meaningful reflections, or guidance for navigating life’s challenges, our collection has something for everyone. Let these quotes be your companions on the path to a more fulfilling and enlightened life.

“If you seek the dwelling of the soul, you are the soul. If you search for a piece of bread, you are the bread. If you can grasp this exact idea, you will understand. All I seek is you (My Lord).”

“In this journey of life, we will all experience various events, both bad and good. Regardless of how strong we are or how much we trust, there will be difficult times that come hard, shaking us. “However, we must not be discouraged as long as we keep trusting in God. We must bounce back.

“The best people are humble in their modesty, content with what they have, and fair despite their power.”

“If there is someone who is angry with you but has never done you any harm, consider him your friend. Being angry will reveal the true nature of man.

“My son, the first thing you should seek after believing in God is honest friends. They are like trees that give you shade and provide you with food. If they are not beneficial, they will not harm you.”

“Confidence is when you pray to God for something, and all the signs around you show it is impossible, but in your heart, you have complete faith and confidence that God will grant your request.”

“Let’s begin by exploring love first, for everything else will follow in due time.”

“Everything that doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”

“You will be ungrateful for your teacher’s favor if you remain a student for life.”

“Beauty may lack virtue, but virtue never lacks beauty.”

“Dealing with people of different mindsets, personalities, and ethics requires patience, understanding, and sometimes deliberate forgiveness.”

“Be the shepherd when faced with a herd of cattle.”

“Democracy is letting everyone speak, then doing as you please.”

“Life is a river that carries us along, and on its shores, life unfolds.”

“The treasures of the heart cannot be stolen.”

“Morality is a perpetual virtue.”

“Those who lack modesty have hearts that wither.”

“There’s no true friendship without sincerity.”

“With effort and diligence, nothing is impossible.”

“A student’s hope for success is what drives them to strive.”

“I’ve learned to love all people, and I’ve learned that with effort and dedication, nothing is impossible.”

“A sincere word carries resonance.”

“There’s no real security without happiness.”

“I discovered the paradox that when you love to the point of pain and continue to love, there’s no more pain, only more love.”

“Sincerity is only meaningful when accompanied by loyalty.”

“Perhaps it’s good to love with reason and wisdom, but it’s truly delightful to love passionately.”

“Love is like a red nose; its possessor cannot hide it from view.”

“Hope is a motivating force that opens the heart to action.”

“Don’t look back; you might stumble and fall.”

“Hope pushes the lazy towards diligence and struggle.”

“The silent, gentle prayers of a mother can never lose their way to the wellspring of goodness.”

“The love of money can turn the wise into fools.”

“The wealthiest people have the most friends.”

“I want ears that don’t hear and eyes that don’t see, rather than a heart that doesn’t love.”

“When a woman loves, love becomes her religion, and her beloved becomes a subject of devotion and worship.”

“Life is a school you must attend, but learning in it is optional.”

“Not every fall is an end; sometimes the fall of rain is a beautiful beginning.”

“If beauty attracts the eyes, then morality captures the hearts.”

“Creativity is when a person emerges from the depths of failure to become an example.”

“Hope creates the motivations for struggle.”

“Yesterday is gone and will never return, but tomorrow’s knowledge lies with God.”

“It’s not important that bad things happen; what’s crucial is that they don’t happen repeatedly.”

“Friendship is the only rose without thorns.”

“When trust exists between rulers and the ruled, both can rest assured in each other.”

“Honesty and integrity are the noblest qualities a person can possess.”

“A person without a goal is like a ship without a rudder; both will end up on the rocks.”

“Everyone wants to change the world around them, but few think about changing themselves.”

“If we respond to negativity with negativity, when will it end?”

“To be a woman’s first love means nothing; you should strive to be her last, for that is everything.”

“Love is like a red nose; its possessor cannot hide it from view.”

“Love preserves beauty, and a woman’s skin is nourished by affection, just as bees feed on the nectar of flowers.”

“Friendship is a treasure, and those who protect their treasure remain rich.”

“It’s not about knowing when to speak; it’s about knowing when to be silent.”

“A person without a goal is like a ship without a rudder; both will end up on the rocks.”

“Everyone wants to change the world around them, but few think about changing themselves.”

“We misunderstand love when we describe it as a fire; true human love turns to embers, not ashes.”

#life quote #quotes #beautiful quote #quoteoftheday #book quote

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quinintheclouds · 2 years

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expectation of wordgirl as a protagonist: good at everything, always understands when things aren't literal, perfect grades, and every teacher's pet.

wordgirl when asked to paint a tree for art class:

#the teacher: ''your tree should be a reflection of the world through your eyes''#''oh violet that's beautiful! And Becky... that's... uh... wordy.''#becky: ''Thanks!" :D #love her #wordgirl #quinpost #she was so relatable sometimes too - autistic connection #literally there is not one SINGLE CHARACTER in wordgirl who isn't autistic #not fucking ONE #narrator has adhd #so do violet and tj and huggy and... like every one of the villains XD #ok yeah p much everyone in wg has adhd too #no wonder I loved it so much - it made sense to me and made me laugh my lil head off #still does this show is hilarious fight me

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sakura-ame-no-ai · 3 years

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"bring a jacket next time."

pairings: tetsurou kuroo x reader

genre: fluff

notes: in japan, their way of checking the time is much different than america. they use 24-hour clocks. so if it was 1 in the afternoon, it would be counted as 13:00 for them.

a/n: it felt like some special holiday for me today and i don't know why... but seriously, how is my last kenma fanfic getting so much love istg- anyways, enjoy this fanfiction! i couldn't think of a good title for this on... :sob:

you sneeze suddenly when a gust of wind blows against your legs. it is indeed cold outside, but the shriveled leaves scraping their way down the street makes it seem much colder.

"why does it have to be so cold on a beautiful night like this..," you mutter to yourself, wrapping yourself with your arms.

too bad you didn't contemplate on bringing a jacket with you before bursting through the door with kuroo calling behind you.

well, now you feel a little guilty remembering that you lied to kuroo that you were going to buy some snacks at a nearby konbini. in reality, you just want to spend most of the night searching for some shooting stars.

you make a brief trip to the park, to which you find everything abandoned. that one big red slide that you always see children fighting to have their turn on is now empty and lonely. the swings seem motionless, too. however, they still rock back and forth every now and then when a chilly breeze rushes by. the seesaw is tilted down at an angle, making one side touch the ground full of woodchips.

you search for that favorite brown bench that has legs made out of an elegant black metal of some sort. soon, you discover it sitting under a big maple tree silently. it faces a metal fence that is as high as your waist, which a beautiful view of a huge lake stretches out on the other side of that fence. you don't hesitate to plop down and make yourself comfy on the bench, admiring the wavy reflection of the glittering stars and moon on the water's surface.

you could stare at such a view all day...

well, you would if you had brought a jacket though.

the cold night air wraps around you, trying to embrace you in a friendly way, but all it does is make you shiver and lift your feet onto the bench. you hug your knees and bury your mouth and nose inside your arms and knees, cursing to yourself about why you were stupid enough to not bring some warm clothing before setting out.

"just like i thought," a voice that sounds very familiar booms out from behind you, making you flinch.

you turn your head around to see a bedhair walk up to you with a cheeky grin.

"tetsu?!" you squeal, a little shocked that he actually know exactly where you were. "how did you know i'm here?"

kuroo is bundled up in a scarf and his nekoma jacket. he also has a thick piece of folded cloth draped over his right arm, making you assume that it's probably a blanket.

"i've never seen you that eager to do some shopping at the konbini, kitten," he replies, taking a seat next to you.

"you've always been a fan of sceneries outside, so that gave me an idea."

you give him a look of amazement, awed by the fact that he knows you very well like you're his child or something. however, it isn't long before kuroo bonks you on the head.

"you little rascal~ why didn't you bring a coat? it's like below 25 degrees celsius, and here you are, hanging out at the park, short-sleeved, and without a jacket or coat."

you whimper at his remarks.

"well, you know i was excited, tetsu..," you pout, puffing your cheeks out.

he chuckles, "nobody was blaming you, ok?"

kuroo takes a moment to peel off his nekoma jacket and place it over your shoulders. you gratefully hug it over your shoulders. other than the fact that it smells strongly of that lavender body soap you gave him, the jacket felt warm from kuroo's body heat, making you feel safe.

an unintentional smile slips onto your lips and you readjust your gaze to the sky.

"say... do you think there will be any shooting stars tonight?"

kuroo lifts a brow before fixing his gaze at the sky as well.

"oya? hunting for shooting stars?"

you nod eagerly, continuing to look up attentively.

"mhm! you told me that it's shooting star season!"

the branches of the maple tree above you sway gently, swishing its leaves together to create gentle rustling sounds.

kuroo smiles and points towards one of the stars.

"do you know how stars are formed, n/n?" he asks you, his finger directing your gaze towards the appointed star.

you squint to make a more intricate observation of the star while racking your brain, trying to remember your astrology lessons at school.

"well... don't stars form from accumulated gas and dust in space?" you finally conclude, remembering one fact your teacher has emphasized back then.

kuroo nods happily.

"yep. stars form when the gravity of the dust and air collapse together, which makes them heat up out of pressure."

he continues to ramble on about how stars mostly contain hydrogen and helium, the lightest elements to exist in the universe, and how stars are, in reality, exploding balls of gas.

you listen patiently as he explains. you are always interested in his nerdy science talk, as well as the way he is invested in his own world when a discussion related to a scientific topic arises.

it takes him a little bit to finish his explanation with a sneeze.

of course, he's not wearing his jacket. that's why.

you take off the jacket you were wearing and hand it to him.

"you're gonna catch a cold, so take your jacket back."

however, he pushes it back into your chest.

"no, kitten. you have it. i'm worried about you more."

you begin to pout, angry that he's always caring for your health instead of his own.

"no, kuroo," you say with an upset look. "this is not my jacket."

you two begin fighting about who should wear kuroo's jacket, exaggerating the possibilities of not wearing one and lecturing one another.

"that's it," kuroo sighs, looking troubled.

at first, you are confused by his words.

"what do you m-"

it was at this moment that kuroo covers the blanket that you forgot he had brought onto his back and then trapping you inside his arms, wrapping your body inside the blanket.

"there, now we're both warm," he smirks.

you take a while to understand the situation you're currently in before blushing madly. you look up at him, only to see that usual proud smirk on his face. he obviously did this on purpose.

"tetsu?! what the actual hell?!" you scream.

"oya? anything wrong?" he asks a little too 'innocently', pissing you off.

you growl back, "of course, you dumbass! people might see us and take this to like a million different wrong directions!"

"kitten, it's almost half-past 23:00. it's really unlikely that we'll be seen since most people are asleep."

you can't counter back, because that sly cat is right. most people are asleep at this time, so it's highly unlikely that you'd get caught like this with kuroo.

you have no idea how to react, so you decide to lean your back against kuroo, resting your head on his chest. at least, you realize that you feel much warmer than wearing his jacket. in the end, you start to relax, paying closer attention to the steady rise and fall of his chest while he breathes.

"do you ever see stars as memories when you look at them?" you ask kuroo, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.

"sometimes," he smiles, looks at one of the stars.

"like that one near that giant cloud reminds me of when i stole your meat from your lunchbox."

you cough.

"do you think this is a great time to bring this up??"

he only smirks at you. "you asked if i get reminded of anything when i look at a star."

you pout a little and fix your eyes to another star and point your finger towards it.

"well, this one reminds me of when yaku beat your ass for stealing meat from my lunchbox."

you two begin talking back and forth, saying which star represented which memory, laughing about the old days, and fighting about various things, like who should've gotten to eat that scrumptious piece of steak.

as you come back to argue about the lunchbox situation again, a white streak catches your eyes, snapping your attention back to the sky.

"look, tetsu! shooting stars!" you exclaim.

what kuroo turns his head to look at the sky with you.

sure enough, more streaks of white rain down like a slight drizzle.

"hurry up! make a wish!" you tell him before clasping your hands together before your face and close your eyes.

kuroo looks at you, then back at the sky. after a while, he closes his eyes and makes his wish.

i want to stay by y/n's side, even after i graduate.

however, he doesn't say it out loud. instead, he wraps his arms around your chest after you have finished making your wish.

for the first time in forever, kuroo gives you the most genuine smile that you've ever seen, which surprises you since you're so used to his cheeky smirks. it reminds you of honey and its sweet flavor.

"you know, kitty, we could do this next time," he coos in the sweetest voice you've ever heard him use.

"did you think i'd stop you?"

"ummmm..."

you look side-ways towards the tree beside you before give him your honest response.

"weeeeell, i thought you'd tell me it'd be too late into the night to do something like this and that i wouldn't be able to wake up if i stay up star-hunting."

kuroo chuckles, petting your head lightly with that big hand of his

"things like this are exceptions."

your eyes light up to his words. he has officially announced the permit to stay up searching for shooting stars that you adore a lot. it makes you very happy that you smile back warmly.

"thank you, tetsurou," you sigh, leaning into his chest comfortably.

"it's nothing, y/n."

he continues to stroke your hair in a soothing way as he maintains that genuine smile on his lips.

"just bring a jacket next time, or star-hunting will be off-limits."

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 6

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 6 - This Venerable One's Shizun

Xue Meng had lived on Life-Death Peak since he was a child. He was familiar with shortcuts and terrain so he had no problem catching up with Mo Ran

He escorted him all the way to the back of the mountain. The back mountain of Life-Death Peak was the closest place to the ghost realm in the whole world, separated by an enchantment, behind it is the netherworld.

Looking at the miserable situation in the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person was clearly at home, but still needed Madam Wang to treat guests in the front hall.

It wasn't that the man didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t step away--

The barrier of the ghost world was broken.

At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with a heavy spiritual resentment. The ghosts that hadn't taken on a body howled and hovered bitterly in the air. At the entrance of the mountain gate, there was a giant breach ripping through the sky. Behind the breach was the ghost realm, and a tall, bluestone staircase stretching thousand of steps escaped from the barrier cracks. Seeing out from the staircase, the fierce spirits that had regained a flesh body were climbing down this step disorderly and chaotically, rushing from the underworld to the human world.

Any ordinary person would be terrified at the scene unfolding. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was shocked to the bone, but he was used to it now.

The barrier between the human and ghost realms was set by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. Today, it was very weak. It would grow weak spots every now and again, which need to be repaired by immortal cultivators. However, this kind of thing not only does little to improve one's cultivation but is thankless with how much spiritual energy it consumes. It was a real drudgery, so few immortals in the upper cultivation world were willing to take this job.

When a fierce spirit was born, the people of the Lower Cultivation Realm were the first to come under attack. As the protectors of the Lower Cultivation Realm, Life-Death Peak was forced to undertake the task of repairing the barrier. The back mountains of the sect faced the weakest point in the barrier all to ensure they could be repaired swiftly.

There would be breaks in the barrier about four or five times a year. It was just like an old, chipped pot; useless.

Now, at the entrance of the ghost world, on the long bluestone stairs, a man stood there with snow-coloured clothes and wide sleeves flowing in the wind. He was surrounded by the aura of his sword, the golden light shimmering. Using his own power to clear out the evil spirits and ghosts, he repaired the small holes appearing in the barrier.

The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance, with a holy aura and a handsome face. From a distance, it was easy to imagine he was a scholar reading an ancient scroll under a flowering tree. However, looking closely, he had sharp eyebrows, phoenix eyes slanted upwards, and the bridge of his nose was straight and narrow. While he seemed to be gentle and elegant, his eyes were mean and seemingly unkind.

Mo Ran glanced at him from a distance. Although he thought he had prepared himself, when he saw this man appear in front of him alive and healthy again, it made him tremble down to his smallest bones.

Half fear, half. . . excitement.

His Shizun.

Chu Wanning.

This was the person that Xue Meng had cried and begged to see when he arrived at Wushan Hall in the previous life.

It was this man that ruined Mo Ran's ambition, ruined his plans, and was finally imprisoned and tortured to death by Mo Ran because of it.

Logically speaking, if Mo Ran had the chance to avenge himself and defeat the enemy that had blocked his progress.

The sea is wide and free for fish to swim in, the sky is high and the birds could fly endlessly, no one could reign him back anymore. At least, that's what Mo Ran thought.

However, that doesn't seem to be the case.

After his Shizun died, something else seemed to have been buried along with his hatred.

Mo Ran was not a man of culture and didn't recognize any other feeling than being evenly matched with a worthy opponent.

He only knows that here on out, he had no archenemies.

When Shizun was alive, he had been afraid, paranoid, and anxious. When he saw the willow vine in Shizun's hand, the hair on the back of his neck stood on up. He became just like a beaten mutt, just the sound of a wooden club slap caused his teeth to ache and legs to give out. Even his calf muscles would spasm from fear.

Later, when Shizun died, the person Mo Ran had feared the most was finally gone. Mo Ran felt that he had grown and matured, being able to finally commit this act of murdering his teacher.

Afterwards, when looking at the mortal realm, no one dared force him to kneel down, and no longer slapped himself in the face.

To celebrate, he opened the pear blossom white wine, sat on the roof, and drank wine all night.

That night, under the influence of alcohol, the scars that Shizun had inflicted on his back when he was a teenager seemed to feel hot and painful again.

At this moment, when he saw Shizun reappear in front of him, Mo Ran started, filled with hate and anger, but there was also a slight twinge of ecstasy.

Such an opponent, lost and now regained, how can he not please?

Chu Wanning ignored the two apprentices who broke into the back mountains and continued concentrating on fighting the scattered undead.

His facial features were elegant, his eyebrows are evenly long. His phoenix eyes were cast downwards, his cool demeanour powerful. Amidst the demonic air and blood rain, his expression had not changed. His face remained calm, as though he might sit down and burn incense or play the guqin at the moment.

However, such a gentle and beautiful man, at that moment, was holding an icy exorcism long sword dripping with red blood droplets. With a flick of his wide sleeve, the sword's energy sliced through the bluestone steps in an explosion. Crushed stones and bricks rolled down, cracking an immeasurable chasm from the gate all the way to the bottom of the mountain, splitting the staircase and its thousands of steps!

So ferocious.

How many years had it been since he had seen his Shizun's power?

This familiar and powerful dominance made Mo Ran lose all his strength. Shakily, he fell onto his knees with a thump.

It didn't take long for Chu Wanning to kill all the ghosts, and neatly fill in the holes in the barrier to the ghost world. After doing all this, he fell from mid-air and went over to Mo Ran and Xue Meng.

He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes holding a powerful chill.

"Causing trouble again?"

Mo Ran sucked in a breath.

Shizun had the ability to always correctly assume any situation.

Xue Meng: "Shizun, Mo Ran went down the mountain, committing the two crimes of stealing and prostitution. Please punish him accordingly, Shizun."

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, expressionless. He coldly remarked: "I know."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Xue Meng: ". . ."

Both of them were a little confused. Then? Is that it?

However, just when Mo Ran thought tat he had gotten off lucky, he looked up at Chu Wanning and caught a a glimpse of a sharp golden light suddenly cutting through the air. There was a lightening-like crackling sound that slashed across Mo Ran's cheek!!

Drops of blood splashed everywhere!

The speed of that golden light was so fast, Mo Ran didn't even have a moment to close his eyes, let alone dodge it. The skin on his face was flayed open with a fierce pain.

Chu Wanning stood with his hands clasped behind his back, standing coldly in the chilling breeze of teh night air. The air was still filled with the foul aura of fierce spirits and ghosts mixed with the smell of human blood. It made the forbidden area of the back mountains appear even more eerie and terrifying.

In Chu Wanning's hand was a willow vine that had whipped Mo Ran. The vine was narrow and long, with green leaves sprouting from it, hanging down near the edge of his boots.

It was clearly sucha graceful object. Looking at it would have made people think of poems such as "Pliant is the the willow branch I gift to my beloved".

It's a pity that Chu Wanning was neither pliant or had a beloved.

The willow vine in his hand was actually a magic weapon named Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen was glimmering with golden red light, piercing through the surrounding darkness, and also reflecting in the bottomless depths of Chu Wanning's eyes.

Chu Wanning pursed his lips, and said sensibly: "Mo Weiyu, you are so bold. Should I really not do something to discipline you?"

If this really was the fifteen-year old Mo Ran, he might not have taken this exclamation seriously, thinking that Shizun was just trying to scare him.

But after being reborn, Mo Weiyu had thoroughly experienced Shizun’s "control" with his blood in his previous life. He immediately felt the roots of his teeth ache and blood rushing to his head. His mouth was already moving, ready to deny everything and clear his name

"Shizun. . ." His cheek still bleeding, Mo Ran raised his eyes, staining them with a thin veil of tears. He knew that his current appearance must look extremely pitiful. "This disciple has never stolen. . . has never laid with a prostitute. . . why did Shizun listen to Xue Meng's words and strike me without even listening to my side of the story?"

". . ."

Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle. First, act cute. Second, pretend to be pitiful. Now he tried these out on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears almost fell from his eyes: "Is the disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why doesn't Shizun even give me a chance to defend myself?"

Xue Meng stomped angrily next to him: "Mo Ran! You, you piece of shit! You truly are shameless! Sizun, don't listen to him, don't be fooled by this bastard! He really did steal! All the stolen goods are still on him!"

Chu Wanning looked through his eyelashes, his expression cold: "Mo Ran, you truly never stole?"

"Never."

". . . You should know the consequences of lying to me."

Mo Ran's arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But he still foolishly persisted: "Shizun, please!"

Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the shiny golden vine waved again, but this time he did not draw it on the face of Mo Ran. Instead, he used it to tightly bind Mo Ran.

This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to whipping people on the regular, the willow vine "Tianwen" has another function——

Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was held tightly in Tianwen's grasp, and asked again: "Have you never stolen?"

Suddenly, there was a familiar stabbing pain straight in Mo Ran's heart, as if a sharp fanged small snake had slid its way into his chest and was playing with his organs.

Accompanied by the severe pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn't help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: "I. . . never. . . ah. . . !!!"

Tianwen's golden light seemed to pick up on his lies, glowing harder. The pain caused Mo Ran to break out in a cold sweat, but he still desperately resisted such torture.

This was Tianwen's second function: interrogation.

Once tied up by Tianwen, no one could lie. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had a way of forcing them to speak and reveal the answer that Chu Wanning wanted to know.

In his last life, by relying on a strong cultivation base, there was only one person who had finally managed to keep a secret under Tianwen's influence.

That person was the person who had become the emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.

After being reborn, Mo Ran had hoped he'd have a bit of luck, thinking that he would still be able to resist the forced interrogation of Tianwen. But after biting his lip for what felt like forever, with big beads of sweat dripping down over his dark eyebrows and full-body trembles, he finally bowed before Chu Wanning's boots in pain, gasping for breath.

"I. . . I. . . stole. . ."

The pain abruptly disappeared.

Mo Ran hadn't even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder than before.

"Did you commit debauchery?"

Smart people don't do stupid things. Since he hadn't been able to resist before, it was even more impossible now. This time, Mo Ran didn't even resist, and when the pain struck, he went so far to even shout: "Yes yes I did!!!! Shizun please! No more!"

Xue Meng's face turned blue at his side. He exclaimed with shock: "You, how can you. . . That Rong Jiu is a man, you actually. . ."

No one paid attention to him. As the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, Mo Ran gasped for breath, his whole body was drenched as if he had just been fished from the water. His face was as white as paper, his lips still trembling, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

Through sweaty eyelashes, he looked up at Chu Wanning's elegant figure, wearing a green jade crown and wide sleeves that fell to the floor.

A strong hatred suddenly surged into his heart - Chu Wanning! This Venerable One wasn't wrong in is treatment of you in his past life, that much is true!! Even after being reborn, the hatred still burns strong! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!

Chu Wanning didn't know that this crafty disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood there for a while with a sullen expression, and then said.

"Xue Meng."

Although Xue Meng knows that men were the popular choice among rich businessmen and wealthy households, and many people play with male prostitutes just for something new and not really because they liked men, he still couldn't digest it. After a while, he said: "Shizun, this disciple is here."

"Mo Ran went against the three mandates on corruption, debauchery, and deception. Take him to the Yan Luo Hall so he can repent. Bring him to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil tomorrow morning so that he receive a public punishment."

Xue Meng was startled: "What. . .? Public punishment?"

Public punishment means taking the disciples who have committed severe transgressions in front of the disciples of the whole school, in front of everyone, even the ladies in the dining hall, and punishing them for the crowd.

Utterly shameful.

It should be known that Mo Ran was a disciple of Life-Death Peak. Although the disciplinary measures in the school were strict, because of Mo Ran's special status - his uncle pitied him for losing his parents so young and was scavenging outside for fourteen years - he couldn't bear to punish Mo Ran. No matter what Mo Ran did, he would just get a small lecture in private, and he would be beaten.

But Shizun wouldn't even save the face of the sect leader. He wanted to take his precious nephew to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil and publicly punish and shame Young Master Mo in front of the entire sect. This was something even Xue Meng hadn't expected.

Mo Ran, however, wasn't surprised.

He lay on the ground with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

How great and selfless his Shizun was.

Chu Wanning was truly cold-blooded. In his previous life, when Shi Mei died in front of him, Mo Ran cried and pleading, pulling on his clothes, kneeling on the ground and begging him for help.

But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear.

And so his disciple had breathed his last breath before him, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and ignored his sobs.

Now all he was doing was putting him on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to be dealt with before the public. There was nothing strange about this.

Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base was now. He couldn't peel off Chu Wanning's skin, rip out his nerves, drink his blood, can’t pull his hair back, can't insult him, can’t torture him and destroy his dignity, make him desire nothing but death. . .

He hadn't been able to hide the beast-like hatred in his eyes, and Chu Wanning picked up on it.

He faintly glanced at Mo Ran's face, a stoic expression on a gentle and elegant face.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fuck!

Tianwen hadn't been removed yet!

Mo Ran once again felt the vines tying him up, and his internal organs felt like they were about to be squeezed into mush. He yelled in pain, panting and roaring out the thoughts in his head——

"Chu Wanning, you think you're so refined! Watch me fuck you to death!"

No one made a sound.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Even Xue Meng was stunned: ". . ."

Tianwen suddenly retracted Chu Wanning's palm, turning into a small speck of golden light before disappearing altogether. Tianwen was made from the bones and blood of Chu Wanning and could appear when summoned and vanished at will.

Xue Meng's face was pale and he stuttered: "Shi-Shizun. . ."

Chu Wanning didn't say a word. His delicate black and slender eyelashes lowered, examining his palms for a while. Then, he raised his eyes, his face even, but his complexion even colder. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze saying "this disciple deserves death", then said in a low voice:

"Tianwen is broken, I am going to go fix it."

Chu Wanning threw down these words, turned and left.

Xue Meng was kind of slow: "How could an immortal weapon like Tianwen be broken?"

Chu Wanning heard it, and glanced back at him with a look of "this disciple deserves death" as well. Xue Meng shuddered.

Mo Ran lay on the ground, half-dead, with a blank expression.

What he had been thinking really was looking for a way to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew that the Master Chu, who held titles like "Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal", had always paid attention to elegance and correctness, and he couldn't stand being stepped on by others, defiling him.

But he didn't want Chu Wanning to know that he was thinking that!

Mo Ran whimpered like a stray dog, covering his face.

Thinking of the look in Chu Wanning's eyes when he was leaving, he felt that he probably did not have long to wait until his death.

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#the husky and his white cat shizun #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #2ha #2ha translation #2ha novel #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #mo ran #chu wanning #yaoi novel

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roscgcld · 3 years

Text

GOJO SATORU || how annoying

request: What if Gojo twin went with geto and wants to help him achieve his dream since she didn’t want to let him go, and she feels bad that she couldn’t do anything to change his mind.

But if that was the case Gojo just got betrayed by his Best Friend and his own Twin sister almost makes me sad to request this but I’d really want to see Angst between them.

note: this one was a pain to write because i hate angst - like i literally avoid heartbreak stories like the plague because my little heart cannot take it. so this was a little bit out of my comfort zone, and had me pouting cause this is like, the worse case scenario for me lol. but i hope you enjoy!

pronouns: she/her

note: spoilers for volume 0, so read at your own risk!

gojotwins!au masterlist

“Gojo-sensei, who’s this?”

The white-haired shaman looked up from his phone where he was lounging on his chair since he was currently having a free hour in his schedule. Today he is around to teach his group of first years, and after a few hours of class, they have an hour break in between their lesson. Because of this, the first years had decided to chill in Gojo’s office with their teacher.

Gojo’s eyes, hidden behind his simple blacked-out sunglasses, glances over at his student who was holding up a framed picture on his desk. He had only 2 framed pictures - a picture of him and his classmates in their first year, and the other was a picture that he sometimes wondered why he still kept framed in his office.

It was a picture of him and his twin sister, Gojo Y/N. In that picture, they were standing in front of a cherry blossom tree that is on the grounds of the Gojo Clan home. The pictures were one of the last few pictures they took together, and you couldn’t tell that the day after that picture was taken, the smiling girl in the picture would have disappeared. Going into hiding with the man that she loved. “Oh....that.”

Yuji paused when he saw how his sensei’s mood dropped ever so slightly, causing both him and Nobara to share a look before they glanced over at Megumi. The same boy was staring at the picture with a faraway look on his face as well as if all the memories he had of the woman in the picture flashed before his eyes.

“...You should throw that out.” Megumi managed out after a few moments of silence, glancing over at Gojo who had his eyes trailing on the picture. Yuji had placed it down after a few seconds of awkward silence, yet Gojo’s eyes didn’t move away from the smiling faces reflecting back in the picture frame. “I know..”

Yuji, feeling bad that he clearly brought up a bad memory, was about to apologise when Gojo sighs and sat up from his reclined seat. “I can’t live my life avoiding the topic forever.” Gojo sighs as he runs a hand through his fluffy white hair, taking a deep breath before he faces Yuji once more. “The girl in the picture is my twin sister, Y/N. She and I were born with the Six Eyes, and had gone to school together.”

“You have a sister?!” Nobara and Yuji ask in usion, shocked that they had one, never seen this person before. And two had never even heard about this woman - someone who is probably as strong as their sensei. Why had no one mentioned her to them before? “Why didn’t you tell us?” Nobara asks curiously, to which Megumi stepped in to answer when it looked like Gojo is struggling to answer the question. Which that in itself is shocking to the other two in the room. “Y/N-san is...well...she had become a Curse User.”

Whilst Yuji gasped at how she had essentially turned her back on the college, Nobara had caught onto the past tensed that Megumi had used to describe the woman. “What do you mean had?” Nobara asks curiously, to which Megumi actually hesitates before he glances over at Gojo, who had kept silent through the entire exchange. “Is she...did something happen?”

Another moment of silence passed the room before Gojo looked up from the floor; his elbows resting on his knees after he had planted his feet on the ground. “Last year...around December...a huge attack was plotted on the college,” Gojo explained simply as he looks up at the two quiet students that stood before him, hanging onto his every word. “She had not attacked the college...but she was one of the organisers. So by law, if I didn’t do something, the higher-ups would have sent someone to deal with her.”

Immediately both Yuji and Nobara’s eyes widen in shock at what Gojo was insinuating behind his simple words, both of them glancing at each other with wide eyes. Now they knew they had hit a nerve. Yet Gojo seemed like he was going to continue to tell them everything right now since the bandage on the wound had already been ripped open - might as well deal with this all at once.

“I mean - it was better than way. She knew it too.” Gojo said with a sigh as he leans back into his recliner seat, giving his silent student a forced smile; one so fake that it even had Megumi cringing a little. Gojo was once more lost in his thoughts, mind wandering back to the day that he had done the unthinkable. He knew that sometimes being a sorcerer means that you had to make some sacrifices, but for once he wasn’t sure if he was so willing to believe in that saying.

Gojo walked up the flight of steps leading up to the shabby apartment room, following the Curse Energy residue that was left along the hallway, immediately recognising it. It was as if she chose not to even hide where she was; leaving invisible evidence all over the place as they stopped in front of the door where the Curse Energy was the strongest.

Quietly he turns the knob, not even shocked to find it unlocked as he pushed it opened quietly; looking up with a soft smile. “Pardon the intrusion.” He mumbles softly as he looks over at the woman who sat by the window. Her hair blowing softly along with the breeze as she turned her tired eyes over to her; her bright blue eyes glowing in the dark as she stared back at the white bandages that hid his.

“You make it sound like I didn’t know you were going to come.”

There was no bitterness in her tone - only sheer tiredness and the same warmth that she exudes every moment of the day. The same warmth that had Gojo’s heart clenching as he closed the door behind him slowly, making his way deeper into the apartment. “I thought the Gojo in you would have sneered at the sheer at the size of this place.”

His comment had the woman laughing softly, looking down at the mug of steaming tea clasped in her hands. The mood was lifted for a few fleeting moments, and Gojo just wants to pretend that everything was alright once more. That the both of them were just hiding it out in a room for a few days whilst they hunted down a Curse User. Like how things used to be. “How...how have you been?”

“...good,” Gojo mumbles as he walks towards his twin sister, the same one who had one day just upped and gone; disappeared with Geto with no more but a letter for her twin to wake up to. The letter was just a rambly letter of how sorry she was that she had to leave, that she chose to end things the way she is doing right now. But she knew that her choosing Geto over the life she has now is a death sentence, but she didn’t want to let go.

‘When you finally find someone to live for, that makes you feel like you were floating with the clouds about - will you let them go for something as meaningless as status in a world we didn’t even choose to be born in?’

At first, neither of the Gojos spoke, just soaking in the comfort and familiarity that the both of them so sorely miss. In more normal times when they are younger, they will always do this - sitting in silence and just basking in it. Curse Energies just mingling with each other, not needing words as they just sat in the cramp apartment.

But this time it was different.

“Did they send you?” Y/N asks as she looks over at her brother, Gojo blinking when he heard her words and looked away from his clasped hands; his grip tightening when he realised just how relaxed and at peace she was. This was one of the most lovable yet infuriating part of his twin - no matter the situation she is faced with, she always faces it head-on with the most relaxed looks on her face - accepting whatever fate that awaits her on the other side. She doesn’t see the need to fear something as minuscule as death - something that everyone must face once their time comes.

It was such an infuriating trait of hers that Gojo both loves and hates. “No...I chose to come myself. I don’t trust any of their goons to do it properly.” Gojo admitted in a tight voice, feeling his will waver when he heard the soft laugh that Y/N lets out - a laugh that he had missed hearing for the last few years now. “You never change, huh ‘Toru?”

Gojo just gave her an actual look of annoyance, the same look he’d always give her whenever he realises that she was going to start to lecture him about something he has no interest in. His look had Y/N letting out a soft laugh as she shakes her head in amusement, taking another sip from the teacup that was in her hands. “How annoying.”

Gojo continues to stare at his clasped hands before he sighs softly, his shoulders slumping a little as reality slowly started to box in around him. “I hate that you just accept that this is your reality,” Gojo mumbles softly, not even trying to hide the shakiness in his voice as he tries his hardest to blink past the tears that were gathering in his eyes. “You can’t just...accept something as serious as this so simply...”

Soft footsteps came from where Y/N was seated before a pair of warm hands rested on his cheeks, fingers gently brushing along the moisture that had collected at the bottom of the bandages. Wordlessly Y/N started to undo the bandages that covered his eyes; Gojo not moving to stop her from doing so. Soon the bandages fell in his lap, both of them staring at each other properly.

A warm smile was resting on Y/N’s face, a smile that irked Gojo even more as he viciously wiped at the corners of his eyes. “You are so annoying, you know that?” Gojo grumbles childishly, his arms reaching to wrap around his sister; burying his face into her shirt to hide the tears that seemed never-ending. “A-Always leaving me behind like this..”

Soft fingers carded through his white hair, the woman before him not making further comments as he continues to cry silently into her shirt. “I’m sorry, ‘Toru..” She had whispered out quietly, her voice sounding just as tired and sad as he does as she held him closer.

Gojo hates this - not only had he just lost his best friend, but he is also going to lose his sister as well. Even when they are apart, knowing deep down that she was at least alive and safe with Geto still brought a sense of peace for him. Even if they couldn't be together, it was just knowing that the other was safe that allowed him to sleep at night.

But now he was the one that is expected to take her life away? He can’t help but hate just how cruel the jujutsu world is that it forces people like Geto and his sister to feel like they had to do the unthinkable in order to feel like they were living life the way they think is right for them.

He hates it all with a burning passion.

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jisungful · 3 years

Text

abandoned.

summary :: breaking into an old abandoned elementary school isn’t always the best idea.

pairing :: chenle x gn!reader x jisung (platonic)

genre :: horror/thriller

warnings :: all characters are kind of dumb (first person to die in a horror movie type beat), breaking and entering, implied serial killer!au, murder, blood, descriptions of gore, psychotic actions, character death, all that stuff :D

word count :: 2.4k

a/n :: as I was writing this, I practically scared myself D: also the ending is kinda rushed but oh well

The end of the school year was supposed to be fun, full of surprises, and that one surprise was Chenle clinging onto you like a koala with a tree. Up to this point, you hadn’t thought of how much of an interesting boy he could be--but him giving you physical affection? You could never believe it.

Chenle let go of you before saying, “Come to the library with me and Jisung,” His hair was messy, as well as his uniform shirt. You assumed he just went around hugging other people besides you. He grinned at you, “We’re planning to do something fun as a celebration for the last day of school! Let’s go!” He grabbed your wrist tightly, but not enough to cause circulation loss, at least. You began contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to follow suit of the boy, knowing him. Nonetheless, you were curious.

You both arrived at the library, seeing Jisung already sitting at one of the tables reading a comic. Sitting down in front of the boy, he closed the book once he felt your presences. He greeted with a small smile, you and Chenle doing the same. “Alright listen,” Chenle started, clearing his throat before broadcasting the plan aloud, “We’re going to go to my elementary school—but with a twist.” He grinned before continuing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been there, so it’s abandoned now and I’m pretty sure no one monitors it anymore. Although... it is still intact so we need to break in.”

“Woah, wait, we are not going to break into an elementary school.” you cautioned.

Chenle rolled his eyes and rested his palm on his jawline. “It’s not like it’s haunted or anything. As I said, no one monitors it anymore--you guys just aren’t fun.”

Jisung clasped his hands together before letting out a sigh, “I thought you were joking at first and just wanted to go and play on the playground or something. But seriously?” He shuddered slightly, subconsciously flipping the pages of the comic he was reading earlier. You nodded at him before returning your gaze back on Chenle. All that was written on his face was smugness.

“We have to try it once. Think about it! It’ll be fun, you know? It’s like in movies, we just have to be cautious of our surroundings.” Chenle assured.

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You really can’t. It was 3 fucking am and you decided it was a great idea to go along with Chenle (out of everyone else in the world) and his plan to break into his old elementary school just for fun.

You packed your backpack with a few essential items: a flashlight, a few bottles of water, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. You kept it unzipped at the top so they could all fit, keeping your phone in your spacious hoodie pocket. You put on a mask and a beanie to keep yourself covered in case of security cameras. You put on your backpack, adjusting to the heaviness. If you were being honest, you had this rush of nervousness flowing through your body, the fear of not knowing what will happen to the three of you once you break in and enter the abandoned building. Nonetheless, you head to your front door to walk to Chenle’s house as the three of you decided to go to beforehand. Step by step, your body grew warmer as anxiety rose. It hadn’t hit you that you’d never done this before--you were always the type to stay in and not go out doing reckless activities; but here you are, doing that exact thing.

Immediately as you stepped on Chenle’s rug that was placed in front of the door, it opened, him now in front of you. He moved aside for you to enter the place. “You got everything?” He questioned and you nodded. “Jisung’s not here yet, so I guess we have to just wait.”

You both sat on his leather couch, staring down at the empty mug with thoughts roaming your brain. It wasn’t breaking in that was scaring you--but the thought of getting caught and living with the guilt that you had done something illegal was. Attempting to engage in conversation, you spoke, “How did you even come up with this idea?”

Chenle chuckled lightly, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. “It just came to my head out of nowhere, I guess.”

Hearing the sound of knocking on the door, you stood up abruptly, Chenle following after. You both headed to the front and opened it for Jisung. “You have everything, right? We should go now.” Jisung nodded and let out a breath he was previously unknowingly holding.

You three went inside of Chenle’s car, with Chenle driving and Jisung and you seated at the back. You took off your backpack and placed it on the floor of the car, the weight removed gave you sudden relief on your shoulders. Jisung plugged his phone into the aux cord and played soft, lo-fi music to soothe the nerves that were getting to you unknowingly.

You sighed, laying your head on the headrest of the car seat, looking out the window. It was a rather peaceful night despite what you were going to do in a couple of minutes—stars beginning to deem visible across the vast, dark sky, with only a few cars passing by in which you could count with your fingers. That was when you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, and you turned to see Jisung staring at you. You furrowed your brows and muttered a ‘what’. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he breathed out, fear clearly laced in his voice.

You bit your lip. “It was Chenle’s idea, we can blame him for all of this.” you joked.

The elementary school definitely does not look as you expected--before coming, you imagined it to be completely abandoned, having growing moss on the walls, windows that were broken or punched, or even having “caution” tape around it. You guess it only happens in movies. But this school looked almost normal, for some reason, with only overgrown trees around it as the leaves fell on it. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that it looks fairly approachable and safe to go into.

“This is crazy, it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Let’s go!” Chenle beamed. You looked at Jisung for a moment, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod before putting on your heavy backpack and exiting the car as he did as well.

The three of you stood outside of the back door of the building, looking around for any suspicious cameras though found none. You pulled your mask up further before checking on Chenle and how he’s putting up with his attempts at opening the door. “I can’t find any key,” he grunted. You offered him the crowbar that was hanging off your backpack, and to your luck, it worked on opening the door. Jisung let out a surprised sound as he stood behind you.

The back door led to the gym in which you stood. It was empty, except for the lone basketball that sat in the middle of the vast room. The lights didn’t work, so you came to the conclusion that it would be best to use your flashlights, instead. You followed Chenle as he was the only person that knew the way around this place. He went toward the door which led to the hallway of the school, which connected to the many classrooms. The atmosphere felt terribly dismal, and it didn’t leave you with a good feeling. You couldn’t help but focus on the smell that hadn’t been freshened up for years.

“This is my 4th-grade classroom,” He slid open the door and across the room were sprawled out desks and chairs--it was like a forest, avoiding all of these objects just to get to the other side was like a journey in itself. In the back of the room were stapled class pictures of old students and teachers on a corkboard. Chenle desperately searched for the photo with him in it, searching across what seemed like around 10+ photographs. “Ah, here’s me!” He said, gesturing for you and Jisung to come to him. He pointed to his 10-year-old self, shining a flashlight on it to show it clearer. “It’s crazy how it’s still here.”

“You were cute,” Jisung commented.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” Chenle scoffed jokingly. He removed the photo from the corkboard and shoved it neatly into the small pocket of his backpack, thinking of showing it to his parents later today once he figures out a good enough excuse to where he found it.

You yawn, eyes getting tired minute by minute, second by second as you continue your journey throughout the huge school. You entered room 3B, which seemed like a music room—chairs stacked in 5’s, music sheets laying on the scattered desks, posters of musicians and guitar and piano chords on the walls begging to fall down to the ground as the tape holding it up collects dust. A piano lies near the corner of the room and Chenle sits on the bench that stood in front of it. He plays a mellow tune as you and Jisung look at all of the instruments that were isolated in a metal storage cabinet. You take out a recorder and try to remember the notes of the infamous ‘Hot Cross Buns’—however your memorization skill isn't the best and you end up with random noises. Jisung laughs at your attempt and you laugh back, putting the instrument back to where it was placed. You head towards Chenle, who was heavily concentrated on playing the song that was on the sheet on the music desk. You listen to the pretty sounds until he stops for a moment.

“It sounds beautiful,” you say.

Chenle chuckles before standing up and ruffling his hair, “I know, I’ve been playing practically since birth, you know?”

You both stood there, the moonlight reflecting on your skin through the thin glass. You turn your head, “Where’s Jisung?” You had thought the boy would follow you when you were walking toward Chenle—but he didn’t. There was no third shadow moving alongside yours and the boy beside you; the atmosphere grew cold. You beckoned Chenle to come with you before walking towards the classroom door to once again enter the hallway.

“Jisung! Are you an idiot? Where are you?” Chenle shouted out loud but there was no voice that followed. A curse word was muttered, you begin scrambling out of the music room to find the 5’11 boy that suddenly vanished into thin air. You knew how afraid he was during the car ride here and you never thought you would leave him alone like this. You stuck by Chenle’s side as you searched through most of the classrooms in the building.

No sign.

You were startled as you unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet, shining your flashlight down the stairwell that was somehow built in the tiny room. “Chenle, come here,” you beckoned. He rushed to you quickly; his eyes widened once he saw what was hidden inside the room.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he chuckled, “Maybe Jisung went in here, but for what?” You shrugged at the boy’s assumption, furrowing your brows before stepping in. Jisung was always curious about the world—you might think it’s his first life and he’s fascinated by every small detail that the universe could give him. Though, you would never expect that he would be curious about this particular stairwell.

A horrid smell hit you both once you reached halfway down the staircase. You muttered a curse word, “Fuck. It smells rotten in here,” Chenle agreed, nodding at you. You continued your way down to see Jisung’s body lay flat on the floor like a ragdoll. You took in a sharp breath as you quickened your steps down to see six other bodies lay in front of him. You rapidly shout out the boy’s name as you frantically attempt to shake him awake, wishing in the back of your mind that he hadn’t ended up like the bodies that were obviously sitting beside you.

Jisung groaned, sitting right side up as he held his head. “What happened to you?!” You question, helping him stand up. He looked around the room once more before taking two steps back when he watched the dead bodies lay on the floor.

He shook his head rapidly as his hands held onto your wrist. “I-I just saw that and I don’t know what happened but…” he shut his eyes. “I should’ve stayed with you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” You hear footsteps nearing you, both of your heads turn to the sound.

“Jisung!” You yell out. You froze once you see crimson flow out of his neck. Your eyes follow the holder of the knife’s arm to his face slowly. You stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Chenle, what the fuck are you doing?!” you breathed out.

Chenle tilted his head back with a slight close-lipped smile, enigmatic. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Jisung’s blood drip, his arms holding onto what he thought was his best friend. “It’s so fun doing this!” he giggled, eyes crinkling through his smile. He pulled out the knife before quickly stabbing it back inside Jisung’s neck. “Is little Jisung whimpering? I’m just playing with you!” His psychotic laughter soon filled your ears and your breath quickened once you watched as Chenle stabbed him in the stomach laying on top of Jisung, a dark red pours onto the floor steadily. You wanted to look away but your body could do nothing but be full of shock.

Chenle’s head jerked toward your direction. You gulped as he stood up to walk toward you with an innocent smile. Once he cornered your back to the wall, he dragged the knife covered in blood along your jawline. You winced as the sharp blade cut through your delicate skin, you clutched onto nothing making your knuckles turn white. “P-please…” you whisper.

His smile dropped once the knife entered the side of your torso. “Now, you two can be with me forever.”

127 notes · View notes

calumxkisses · 3 years

Text

Yellow | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: prince!calum au - you're his yellow and he's yours.

a/n: hi! 'm not really good with au imagines but i hope you'll like it. let me know what you think of this imagine. love you!

this imagine its inspired by the song: yellow

✰ ✰ ✰

“Yellow.” A sudden voice makes you jump. You close the book you’re reading as you place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating quickly.

The library is huge, the storm lights barely illuminate the room, making it almost impossible to find your way around and read without the help of candles. The smell of old books is strong, there is a lot of dust on the shelves and feeling small near these high shelves make the perfect atmosphere to be able to take refuge from the outside world, from a world made of rules and confined to the land surrounding the property. Your little refuge, however, is interrupted by the presence of this man and you turn around quickly, trying to hide the smile that forms on your face at the sight of the stranger.

Despite the size of the room, the prince appears to be in full control of everything around him. He is standing in front of the door, several meters separate your figure from his, yet you can see the smile he gives you, his hands hidden behind his back and the fine lines near his eyes that underline his amused expression.

“What?” You ask before placing your hand in front of your mouth and widening your eyes. In your mind, a vivid image of your mother scolds you for your language and reminds you that you are no longer a child and that you must be careful when addressing a prince or any other high-ranking social figure.

“I'm sorry for talking to you like that, sir. I'm afraid I don't understand what your 'yellow' refers to.”

Prince Calum laughs briefly before slowly approaching you.

"We've known each other since we were children, we don't need certain formalities."

“My mother says-” you try to justify yourself, but he cuts you off right away.

“Nobody’s here.” He whispers before standing in front of you, keeping some distance to avoid misunderstanding in case someone enters. If it were up to him, there would be no such distance between you, but rules are rules and he would never want to compromise your image.

You look around to make sure no one is spying on you and, sure you are alone with him, you relax your shoulders and jaw, releasing the sigh you were holding back.

“So, yellow?” You ask, smiling, placing the book on the table to your left while you look at the boy, waiting for an answer.

His curly hair is carefully pulled back and the dark circles under his eyes lead you to imagine him sitting at his desk, with a lighted candle next to him and his gaze on the window in front of him, instead of the pages he is holding with his hand, pages he should study in order to become the man his father wants him to be, but that he will never be.

“It was a difficult choice, I will not lie to you. There are so many colors that remind me of you, the red of the dress you wore at your first dance when you entered society, the purple of the vase you broke when you discovered that you have been promised in marriage to an old man or the blue of water of the stream next to the tree where we always go to sit under it. And there are a thousand other colors that I associate to you.”

You smile proudly to hear that he paid attention to every detail and remember how as a child he couldn't even memorize the poems the teachers taught him and the thousand fights you had when you tried in vain to help him learn each verse.

“When I think of you, however, I think back to when you collected Ranunculus repens and put them in your hair, to embellish your hair and feel like the princesses who came to visit us. You always did it and you always took a few more so, when it rained and we couldn't go out, you had your little escort and you could wear them even inside these walls. You always have and if I'm not wrong-”

Calum slowly reaches out his arm towards you, his hand brushes your neck causing you to shiver all over your body, before moving a strand of hair and grabbing something from behind your ear.

“You still wear them.” He whispers, bringing his hand in front of your eyes and showing the small yellow flower you were wearing until a few seconds before.

“They still make me feel like a princess from one of those fairy worlds I read books about.” You whisper, you look down as a sense of shame takes hold in your body. Your heart seems to feel pain as you think back to how you still feel as a child, how you still dream of those fairy tales you hoped you could live one day.

“You're a princess with or without those flowers on, you know it too, you just hope that others see you as you do, too special for a life you don't want to be part of.” He says bringing his fingers under your chin and lifting your face up. His gaze no longer conveys joy and his tone is harsh, an angry expression has taken place on his face.

“Calum..” You try to stop him from speaking that truth you don't want to hear, but his words have broken through your heart and the pain you seemed to feel, now you are definitely feeling. You take a step back, trying to get away from a situation you can't escape from.

“You don't have to do it, you don't have to stay and spend the rest of your life between false smiles and sleepless nights. Your sister will be queen and my father thinks I'm a failure since I was born. Let's run away, me and you. My cottage already has everything we need and I'm sure they will never come looking for us. We will live that fairy tale we imagined for us and we will have the life we always wanted.”

His hand grabs yours and his gaze is on you. You know he's not lying, he told you the love he feels towards you in the dungeons of this same castle and you haven't thought twice before confessing your love to him.

But this castle, these people, is all you have always known.

It’s a world that doesn't belong to you but you can't just leave. There are rules, responsibilities, tasks that you cannot escape.

“It's not that easy, Calum.”

“No, it's not, it's not easy and it won't be. We'll probably end up arguing and you'll regret running away with me. But then you'll think back to all these tight corsets you had to wear, all the formalities you had to comply with and the man you would hold if you have stayed and you will understand that country life is so much better than a life spent in sadness and that that terrible man who made you cry actually loves you madly and just wants what he knows it’s better for you.”

He also grabs the other hand and continues.

“And if you really want to go back, I will be ready to be looked at with scandal by everyone and to take you back to the castle, to face your father and see you held by arms that are not mine.”

You know that it will be hard, but you have never wanted to be a queen. It’s a big responsibility for a girl that just wants to live a fairy tale, that wants to be free in her own terms. You never wanted a kingdom, you never wanted to be property of some old man and certainly you never wanted to spend your existence submitted to someone else’s orders.

You just wanted to be happy, to live your life to the fullest, to love a man who respected you, your dreams, your independence and your passion for flowers and books.

And maybe house cleaning, mud and small rooms will never be like having silk sheets, breakfast prepared by someone else and the floor always clean, but they certainly convey a sense of greater happiness and a life spent in misery and in sadness it’s the dream of those who do not want to fight for what they dream of and are satisfied with mediocrity.

And you don't deserve mediocrity and the guy in front of you knows it well, he sees it in the way you feel uncomfortable during the dances, when your father talks to you about matters you can never take care of because you’re a woman and in the look that you give to your mother when she talks about her marriage, that is only political and not based on love.

You turn to your right, a huge gold mirror near the window reflects the library, the place where you grew up and where you have taken refuge millions of times. You look in the mirror, the diamond earrings reflect the gray of the sky and are too heavy for your ears. Your dress is gorgeous, hand-sewn by the best tailors, yet you don't feel as beautiful as when you wear old, unfashionable clothes and run free for the castle hills, without the fear of getting dirty or ruining expensive dresses.

Your eyes, pupils who love to look at the horizon, are sad, aware that by staying they will not be able to see any wonder. You touch your face, slowly run your hands over your cheeks, over your lips and run your finger over the bridge of your nose, remembering when you were just a little girl and were treated like a normal girl, a girl that loved when her father played with her and touched her nose while making funny noises with his mouth.

Then you look outside. The sky is full of dark clouds, the rain falls incessantly and a few lightning illuminate the afternoon sky. You look at that garden you have walked a thousand times, at all the flowers you have collected and at all the plants you have destroyed while playing with Calum.

You close your eyes thinking about all the places you haven't visited, all the trees you haven't leaned on to read and all the rivers you haven't seen flowing. There is a world out there, you think, that has yet to be discovered. And who are you, if not a woman ready for life's adventures?

“You didn't ask me.” You whisper.

“What?” Calum asks, confused.

“You didn't ask me which color reminds me of you.” You repeat as you slowly turn around to look at him.

A huge smile forms on his face.

“What color do you think when you think of me?”

“When I was ten, one night, I decided to explore the dungeons alone. I wanted to prove to myself that I was able to do anything. I almost made it, I almost managed to face the monster we thought lived in the cells, but then it was all too dark and I ended up going back to my room crying.” You slowly approach him.

“The next night, you showed up in my room with a jar full of fireflies, you gave it to me and whispered "You can do it." I ended up walking through the dungeons with this jar in my hand, you were a few meters behind me to make sure nothing happened to me, but I always knew you were there, even if you tried to hide.”

“I was able to face one of my biggest fears that night. Whatever other problem happened, you were always ready to help me if I needed it, you always supported me, with advice or simply by being close to me, a few steps back to let me free. You were essential in making me grow, while remaining away. Like the stars, who guide the sailors from the sky, they let the sailors do what they believe is right, but they are there to help and guide them if they need it.”

You bring your lips to his ear and whisper: “At midnight, in our place. Don't be late and take the blue carriage, it makes less noise on the street.” You turn around and walk to your room to pack a small bag with all the essentials.

“Wait, you didn't answer my question!” He says turning towards the direction you went.

“You are my yellow, Calum.” You say, you are far away but you know he’s smiling and you smile too.

178 notes · View notes

lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

Text

Lionheart

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Fem Reader

Request: “i can’t breathe” with cordelia?? “

A/N: so this prompt screamed ‘panic attack’ but GUESS WHAT?? I cannot write about panic attacks without having one myself so bear with me. This story was inspired by the scene in Apocalypse when Cordelia tells Michael she’s ready to help him if he’ll let her. Thank you anon for the request, and have a good time reading. x

Word count: ~ 5 500

Warnings: panic, anxiety, more or less accidental attempt at murder (idk what to call it)

You opened the door to the little antique shop and walked in with a happy spring in your step. The place was dimly lit and smelt of nag shampa. All kinds of objects were displayed on shelves nailed to the walls. In the middle of the room, more objects – colourful candles, statues carved in rosewood or kingwood or stone, dusty porcelain plates with a rim of gold – were randomly piled on top of each other or on small tables.

The shop had opened a few days ago and its window had drawn your eye. You were on your way back to Robichaux’s, where you had lived for the past five years. Life at the Academy was blissful. You had found yourself, finally embracing your being a witch; and then a few months later you had found love, and with it a new kind of happiness. Contentment you had read about in books but never thought could happen to you. Love had ripped fear and hatred off the world and painted it in softer colours: pink, yellow, brown, colours that reminded you of Cordelia. The constant weight in your heart had changed: it did not drag you down anymore, but supported you. It was not fear and loneliness you carried, but warmth and curiosity.

In the shop the woman behind the counter was scrutinizing you with attention. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue that reminded you of ocean depths. She wore a beautiful, intricate brooch in the form of a tree with the words ‘Anna Morgana’ – her name, probably – engraved on the trunk. A single red rose drooped in a vase on the counter in front of her.

You did not notice the strange look – half fear, half anger – that flashed on her face as you walked up to her.

“I know you”, the woman said as a greeting. “You’re one of the girls from Robichaux’s Academy.”

You beamed at her.

“I’m here to buy a gift for my Supreme,” you informed her happily.

Here it was again, that strange look, and this time you did notice it, but you didn’t think anything of it. The mention of witches – especially powerful ones – still made most people uncomfortable.

“Birthday?” the woman asked.

For a second you considered lying. Cordelia was adamant that you tell no one about your relationship, for she didn’t want the girls at the Academy to think she favoured you over them. But it wasn’t exactly a secret. Cordelia’s face had always been open, and you weren’t particularly good at hiding the joy that spread over your own every time your eyes met hers, every time someone mentioned her, every time the thought of her crossed your mind. Anyone who had spent more than five minutes with you and Cordelia knew you were in love. Most people were too polite to tell either of you how bad you were at hiding your feelings – except Madison, who seemed to think there was no greater joy in the world than to criticize “Foxxy” in front of you so that she could laugh at whatever new insult your “poor unimaginative brain” would come up with. But you didn’t mind Madison. She was a friend – an extremely annoying, unreliable friend, but a friend still. Movie nights with her were the best.

“Random act of kindness,” you told the woman, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible. “She works so hard for us,” you couldn’t help but add.

The woman curled up her lips and ran one hand through her dark, thick, curly hair. The bracelets that hang off her wrist jingled.

“Well, I could let you look around, but it would take hours. And I think I’ve got just the thing you need. Simple, but beautiful. Not too showy, elegant.”

She went through one of her drawers and drew out a small rectangular box. It contained a necklace – a thin silver chain, a curved bail, a round-shaped moonstone with a blue sheen in the middle. Your heart jumped at the sight. It was perfect for Cordelia.

“And look here!” the woman went on, her voice rising almost to a squeal. You were so lost in thoughts of Cordelia and how beautiful that necklace would look on her, that you did not notice the sudden shaking of the woman’s hands as she drew out another box. “I’ve got another one, exactly the same! So you can match.”

“I’ll take them both,” you beamed.

The woman looked incredibly nervous. She gave you a tight smile as you fumbled in your bag for your wallet.

“I like it,” you said, nodding to the rose in an attempt to help her relax. “Very Beauty and the Beast.”

You paid for the necklaces, then clasped one of them around your neck and stared at your reflection in a small mirror perched on top of a pile. Your fingers gingerly touched the stone. You flashed a grin at your reflection, then sang out “Goodbye!” to the woman. She didn’t say it back.

It was a beautiful spring day, the sun splayed out low in the sky, the air crisp, the branches of the trees overloaded with blooming flowers, but you didn’t linger. Your heart and mind were filled with Cordelia. She had been more tired than usual those past few days, what with the arrival of half a dozen new girls who were very young and very scared of their powers. And she had been bugged by a “weird, tingling feeling”, as she had confided to you two days ago, late in the evening, her head resting on your lap and your hand running through her hair: “I think a new witch might be in town. And I think she doesn’t know who she is. I can feel her confusion, her fear.” You had dropped a kiss on her forehead, offered to run her a bath, but she had let out a tired groan and sat up, rubbing her eyes as if she had a headache, and said she still had paperwork to go through.

It worried you, sometimes, how hard she worked. Too many nights you had had to drag her out of her office and tuck her in and kiss her until her faint protests had turned into sleepy giggles. You and Zoe and Queenie had offered, multiple times, to take over some of her classes, and she had relented after several refusals. As it had turned out, you were quite possibly one of the worst teachers on the planet. Cordelia had attended your first class, wanting to make sure she was not entrusting her girls to an incompetent fool – for the rest of that day you had been unable to meet her eyes, your face red with shame. When in the evening she had finally managed to corner you in an empty room she had burst into uncontrollable laughter, peppering your face with kisses, pausing to try and whisper an apology when she noticed the outraged look on your face. The word “sorry” did not make it out past the first syllable before she was doubled up with laughter, tears running down her flushed cheeks. So it had been decided that you should help Cordelia with daily matters and paperwork, and let Queenie and Zoe do the teaching.

The Academy was very quiet when you reached it, as most of the classes weren’t over yet. You did some cleaning in the kitchen, made yourself some tea, then decided to take a nap. There was approximately thirty minutes left before classes would end and Cordelia would take her usual evening break before dinner.

You ran up the stairs to your room, changed into more comfortable clothes, tip-toed to Cordelia’s room to steal one of her pillows, tip-toed back to your own room, and collapsed on your bed. Your fingers played with the chain of your new necklace, a goofy smile spreading over your face as you thought about the moment you would offer Cordelia her gift. Surely matching necklaces would not be too obvious. Friends did things like that all the time. You were sure to be teased by Madison, though. You lay on your right side, clutching Cordelia’s pillow against your chest and burying your face in it, and closed your eyes. You were not feeling particularly tired, but sleep soon overtook you.

You woke up a few minutes later with a jolt. Your heart was pounding in your ears and your chest was incredibly tight. You remembered when you were in junior high and a brute who kept bullying you because you were “too weird” had unceremoniously thrown you to the ground and decided it would be fun to sit on your chest. The boy was twice your size. He had laid both his hands on your shoulders, pressing your back into the cement, breathed in your face and flashed a cruel smile at you as he shifted his weigh to crush you. “I can’t breathe,” you had managed to get out, your hands coming up to smack weakly at his arms, “get off, I can’t –“

Now the feeling was exactly the same. There was a heavy weight pressing down on your chest as if a demon were sitting on it.

You abruptly sat up, panic shooting through your veins. Instinctively you reached out for Cordelia, for warmth and protection – your hand landed on the cold sheet.

You managed to hiss in a breath, desperately patting the mattress, your other hand coming up to press against your chest. Your arms were shaking. And the sitting position didn’t help. Your chest still felt like it was being crushed.

You threw back the cover, made to stand up, fell back on the bed as the room around you started to spin. Your ears were ringing and you could hear terrifying noises like that of a monster’s rough, raspy breathing in horror movies – your breathing, you realized in terror.

You had to get up. You had to get up and call for help before – on shaky legs you stumbled out of your room and into the empty corridor, leaning against the wall for support, and croaked out: “Delia,” but it was too weak, too low, the words flopped at your feet. The corridor was spinning so fast you could no longer tell where the ceiling was. Cold sweat coated your skin as you took a few steps forward, calling again, “Delia,” a pitiful sound, barely above a whisper.

Your gaze fell on the railing of the stairs. So close, just a few more steps – so far away, too far away.

You wheezed out a breath, tried to inhale. There was no air left in the corridor. Your hand closed around the collar of your shirt. You tried to call out, tripped on nothing, and passed out.

The first think you noticed when you came to was a hum of worried voices. Your head hurt too much for you to even consider opening your eyes. So you focused on the voices, tried to separate one from the others.

“Step back, Millie, step back! Girls, give her some space!”

This voice was too panicky for your liking. It made your heart speed up. But there was something familiar about this voice, something comforting, so when it faded back among the others you groaned, straining to focus on it again.

“Ooh shit, she’s alive,” said another voice, young and jaded.

“Y/N?” The panicked voice again, louder, clearer. Something hot on your face. You let out another groan. “Y/N, can you hear me? Open your eyes for me.”

Now, that you would not do. You were pretty sure if you let the light in your skull would crack.

“Y/N, please.” The voice broke, and something in your heart broke with it. “Please, please sweetheart, come back to me.”

The thing in your heart that had broken kicked and ordered you to obey. There was no way, your heart screamed, no way you would lie here and do nothing to comfort her when she sounded that terrified.

Your eyes fluttered open. A blurry shape was leaning over you, golden on the edges, with two dark spots in the middle.

“Hey,” the voice called shakily, “that’s it, that’s it, you’re doing so good, look at me. Look at me.”

“Delia.” Her name escaped your lips before you had time to think it.

She was very pale, and her face was wet with tears, but she let out a relieved laugh when your eyes met hers.

“Delia,” you repeated, frowning in confusion as you took her state in.

You were lying on your back in the middle of a corridor, surrounded by a group of students. You spotted Madison, leaning against the wall next to Cordelia, staring down at you with interest and just a hint of amusement. “What…”

Your face crumpled as memories flooded you. Your right hand flew up to your chest and you gasped in a breath, fear rushing up to clench at your heart.

Cordelia cupped your face, stroking her thumbs over your cheeks.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright,” she whispered as more tears rolled down her own cheeks.

You bit your lip on a sob, raised your hand to wipe away her tears. Cordelia chuckled and kissed your palm.

“What happened?” you hiccupped between two sobs.

Madison held out something in front of her. Your heart skipped a beat.

“The necklace,” you stammered. “Oh my God, the – Delia I was about to –“

Cordelia shushed you again, leaning forward as if to kiss you before she checked herself. Madison rolled her eyes.

“Please, we’re not stupid, or blind,” Madison said, but you spoke over her, your breath coming out too fast as panic threatened to overwhelm you again: “Delia I was about to offer you the same necklace I was about – “

“Hey hey hey, Y/N, it’s alright, love, it’s alright.” Cordelia slipped one arm around your waist and pulled you up to her. You buried your face in her neck, breathing her in, letting her familiar scent and warmth wrap around you like a blanket. She gently ran her fingers through your hair, supporting you with her other arm.

“How did you find me?” you whispered into her chest.

“I heard you,” she answered, her voice barely louder than yours. “I heard you calling in my head.”

You closed your eyes, confused, angry, and most of all afraid. Afraid of what would have happened if Cordelia had not rushed to you. Afraid of what would have happened if you had offered her the necklace and she had – you wrapped your arms around her, holding her tight, planting a kiss on her chest as you gulped back tears. You were trembling in her arms, your heart beating too fast, feeling like you couldn’t breathe again as images of an unresponsive Cordelia flashed in your mind, asleep but with her chest not moving, her heart not beating, a small moonstone shining pale blue on her skin that was as white as a corpse’s.

Before you knew it you were sobbing again, hanging on to Cordelia for dear life as she whispered words of comfort in your ear and stroke your back in a circling motion. You didn’t hear Madison ordering the girls to scatter, didn’t hear their confused footsteps, barely registered Cordelia pulling you up to your feet and guiding you back to your room. Gently she tucked you in bed, brushed your hair off your face, ran a hand up and down your arm as she wiped your tears with the other. You mumbled something, incoherent and sad, and she lay down by your side and wrapped you up in her arms safely. You pressed your ear to her chest, let the sound of her heartbeat lull you as you counted in your head, one, two, three, on the fourth beat a fond “I love you” murmured by Cordelia with a kiss on your head.

You had rarely seen Cordelia as mad as she was the day after when you explained to her where you had bought the necklaces. Anger burst from her like a snake opening its mouth to sink its fangs into flesh. Cordelia always looked powerful. Now she looked terrifying.

You stammered out short, anxious answers to her questions, instinctively leaning away from her. She noticed, and that seemed to make her angrier still.

She stormed out of the house and you stood nervously waiting for her on the porch. New Orleans would hold a funeral in a day or two. A corpse would be found but no clues as to its murderer would ever be discovered. Anna Morgana would be buried under the eyes of a curious crowd, camera flashes reflecting off her coffin.

You nervously shifted your weight on your feet, your eyes scanning the street in front of you, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed, and then Cordelia walked through the gate to the Academy. But she wasn’t alone.

Your heart did something weird. It jumped up your throat in fear, then swelled with warmth and pride and love. Anna Morgana was walking by Cordelia’s side, clutching a small backpack to her chest, her eyes avoiding you. She looked younger, somehow, and even though she was only a few inches shorter than Cordelia her body was like that of a child next to your Supreme.

Cordelia stopped in front of you, squinting in the sun. You tried to scowl at her, but the nervous grin you had been holding back crept up your face and your eyes lit up with love and adoration for this woman.

“Of fucking course,” you said.

Cordelia shrugged.

“What?” She cocked her head to the side, watching you. There was a hint of nervousness in her eyes as she studied your reaction. You reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “She needed help. That doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for your action,” she added, shooting Anna Morgana a cold, hard glance.

As it turned out, Cordelia’s intuition had been right: there was a new witch in town, and she was confused and lost. Anna Morgana must have known, deep down, that she was a witch, but the thought was so terrifying, so utterly unacceptable that when she saw you in her shop, when she heard you mention the Supreme, she freaked out. Her magic seemed to be powerful: all she did was wish that the necklaces would harm their owners, and she had quite succeeded.

Anna Morgana kept working at her shop, but she also started attending classes at the Academy. She profusely apologized to you and to Cordelia, bought you countless gifts, did all kinds of nice things for you, adamant that she right her wrong. She had a lovely personality, and quickly became part of the coven.

You knew she had been confused and terrified of who she was; you knew what fear was capable of doing to even the best of people. But you couldn’t help it: every time your eyes fell on Anna Morgana, every time you heard her voice, something in you awoke that you could not control and that had the terrible, pungent smell of panic. It grew in you like a seed, taking root in your stomach, spreading its branches into your chest to wrap around your heart and squeeze, tight.

You could tell it was hard for Cordelia, too. You had never heard her snap at any of her girls but Madison, and now Anna Morgana was added to the list, especially in the first few days of her settling in at the Academy. There often was an edge to Cordelia’s voice when she spoke to her, a flash of anger in her eyes, her arm extending protectively in front of you whenever Anna Morgana entered the room you were in. But Cordelia’s heart was endlessly kind, and she was brave, and believed people could change when given the opportunity to. Soon her attitude towards Anna Morgana softened. And Anna Morgana, like all the other girls in Cordelia’s care, opened up like a flower and blossomed and started healing.

And you felt trapped in a corner. Guilt about not being able to move on and forgive gnawed at you like a dog gnaws on a bone and doesn’t let go. Guilt about not being able to be the brave person Cordelia deserved. And the fear that would clench your heart every time someone would so much as mention Anna Morgana, grew so strong and invasive you were sure it had settled permanently in you like a new organ your body had grown. This organ was ill and worked poorly. It kept you up all night, made you fidgety. The faintest of noises – someone coughing in the room next door, footsteps in your back – boomed in your ears like the detonation of a gun and made you jump.

It became hard to focus on daily tasks. You isolated yourself from the other girls, saying you had too much to do for spare time. You snapped at one of the younger girls, once, for no good reason at all. And then you isolated yourself from Cordelia. You pretended to be too tired to wait up for her on the nights she worked till late. You avoided her at lunchtime, hiding in your room with whatever food your stomach could hold.

That week was particularly busy for Cordelia. She had to fly halfway across the country to bring back a new girl who was too panicked to leave her room. When she came back she had barely slept for three days and did not allow herself to rest until she had gone through the paperwork you had neglected to deal with. She nearly collapsed into your arms that night, and you gently tucked her in and dropped a quick, distracted kiss on her forehead before you all but ran to your own room. You thought you heard Anna Morgana’s voice in the corridor, which nearly drove you crazy with fear and had you mutter a protection spell behind your locked door. You whispered one for Cordelia, too, just in case.

You thought, you really did, that you could carry on living in a constant state of fear.

You woke up one night and everything around you was dark. Terror shot through you as something suddenly pressed all of its weight upon your chest and dear Lord, you could not breathe. You sat bolt upright, gasping for air, your shaking hands coming up to your chest to try and get rid of the necklace, but all you could feel was skin, hot, clammy skin, so you clawed at it desperately but the pressure would not go. It would not let you breathe. So you tried to spring out of the bed, wheezing now, your legs tangling up in the cover, but something closed around your arm to hold you back.

“Let go!” you screamed – and it was angry, it was an order, but above all it was terrified.

“Y/N what – “

You tried to hit whatever was holding you back, but it seemed you had lost your bearings for your hand only slammed air. And then there was light, and you realized it was Cordelia, only Cordelia, sitting up with her eyes wide with fear and worry, and there was nothing, no necklace around your neck.

You had one leg still on the bed, the other dangling out, and your nails had clawed so hard at your chest that the skin was red and scratched.

“Y/N are you alright? What happened?”

You ran a shaky hand through your hair, avoiding Cordelia’s eyes. Her hand that was holding your arm slid up to your shoulder to pull you towards her, but you resisted, trying to blink back the tears that were burning your eyes, humiliation and fear battling to take possession of your brain.

“Hey,” Cordelia called, her voice gentler now. You felt the mattress dip as she moved closer to you. Her warmth pressed against you. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“It was nothing.” Your voice was too small. You closed your eyes and squeezed them tight. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

Cordelia let out a sigh. Gingerly, she pulled you back into bed. This time, you let her. But you were still too terrified to lie down, so you sat with your back against the headboard, one hand still pressed against your chest, your breathing still too fast, too shallow. Cordelia hummed, rested one hand on your thigh.

“Bad dream?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head. Your throat was too tight.

“I woke up and I couldn’t – “ you croaked, tears spilling down your cheeks, your chin trembling as you let out a sob.

“You couldn’t breathe,” Cordelia finished for you. You met her gaze, her eyes so big and brown and shining with tears but so brave, and so kind, and so forgiving.

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiding your face in your hands. Suddenly it was all too much, the fear, the guilt, the anger that had plagued you for the past few days washing over you like water released from a dam and threatening to carry you away in its force. Your body shook and caved in; but Cordelia’s arms met you, and held you tight.

It took a while for you to calm down. When you eventually did, you lay limp and spent with your body sagging into Cordelia’s. She stroked your back in a circling motion, as she always did when you needed to be comforted.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated in a breath.

“Don’t apologise. I’m the only one to blame. I should – “ Her voice faltered, and you felt her swallow hard. Automatically your hand came up to stroke her cheek in comfort. “I’ve been too busy to even notice you were struggling.”

“I can’t –“ You closed your eyes, clutching at Cordelia’s nightdress. “My brain can’t seem to stop associating Anna with danger.” You paused, swallowed hard. “She could have killed me. She could have killed you.”

“I know.“ Cordelia inhaled deeply and dropped a kiss on your head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “I can’t kick her out. She hasn’t done anything wrong since she’s been with us, and she has no home, nowhere else to go. She’s just coming to terms with her powers. I don’t…” She shook her head, bit her lip and pulled away to look into your eyes. Hers were big and watery and desperate. “I don’t know what to do,” she finished in a breath.

Something in her eyes, something in that confession – the helplessness, perhaps, that was so unlike her – made your heart roar in protest. You thought you could take a lot of things in this world, but this seemed to draw the line: there was no way on Earth, Heaven or Hell you’d be the one to paint that look on Cordelia’s face – your brave, kind, sunlit Cordelia.

You cupped her face, and when you next spoke your voice surprised you both. It was firm and confident and coated in a newfound determination that chased the demons out of the room. “You don’t have to do anything. You’re right, we can’t kick her out.” You tried for a smile. “So I’ll get a grip on myself and get over this.”

You tried to stop avoiding Anna Morgana. You sat next to her at breakfast, initiated a conversation at lunch, laughed at a joke she said at dinner. It sounded and looked too fake, but at least it was a first. You felt too nauseous to sleep that night, so you stayed up in the living room to watch movies. A little after midnight Cordelia joined you, carrying a blanket and two pillows. She snuggled up to you without a word, rested her head on your shoulder and made some sleepy comments about the movie. You fell asleep within the next half hour, lulled by Cordelia’s soft breathing.

The following days were scary, and some too hard when you felt like giving up and fleeing the city. Anxiety couldn’t be reasoned with. But Cordelia seemed to be everywhere with you, lingering in a corner of the room where you and Anna Morgana had a conversation, handing you a cup of coffee in the kitchen when you and Anna Morgana said good-morning, resting a hand soothingly on the small of your back when one time you considered wrapping your own hands around Anna Morgana’s neck and choke her for revenge.

On a Friday afternoon two weeks later, you and Anna Morgana went to get tattoos together. She held your hand during the entire session. Later that day as you met Cordelia in a corridor (dressed in one of her beautiful long floral dresses, stealing all the lights and colours from the sunset), you waved your arm in front of her face with a giddy smile and she gently grabbed your hand, flashing you a grin. The look on her face grew from amused to surprised to moved. When her eyes met yours, they were shining with love and tears.

“A lion’s heart,” you said softly, smiling down at the tattoo on your wrist, then back up at her. “It’s the meaning of your name, it’s what you have, it’s what you gave me.”

Cordelia bit her lip, gave a teary laugh and kissed you passionately in full view of everyone (she freaked out about it later, of course, and held an emergency meeting with the older girls during which Madison lost her cool and cried out, “surprise, bitch, everyone fucking knew”).

On the first day of summer you were awakened by a soft knock on your door.

You groaned, pressed your face closer to Cordelia’s chest as she stirred. Her skin was warm and soft and smelled like safety. You planted a lazy kiss between her breasts.

Another knock, louder. You opened your eyes groggily, and were met with the sight of pale skin, freckles sprayed over the swell of Cordelia’s breasts, a strand of blond hair curling just below her collarbone. Your mouth watered and something excited fizzed in your stomach.

“Your room,” Cordelia grumbled sleepily as another knock sounded.

You considered ignoring the goddamn intruder to worship your Supreme instead, but Cordelia – ever the responsible one – poked your knee with hers. You lifted your head, meaning to scowl, but her eyes were closed, a lazy smirk spreading all over her beautiful, messy morning face.

With a groan you got up, your legs heavy with sleep. You snorted as Cordelia mumbled, “Being the Supreme means I get to have nice boobs,” – because of course she knew exactly what was in your mind.

You opened the door with a rough “What?”

Anna Morgana flashed you a shy smile. She was dressed in a black lace blouse, black pleated skirt, and her hair was braided with pink flowers and sunkissed by the early rays slipping through the window.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said with another shy smile. “I thought you’d be up by now.”

Her gaze slid sideways and stared at something behind you. You pulled the door closer to you.

“I thought you’d be alone,” Anna Morgana went on. Her eyes met yours, amused. You tried to glare, but a smile betrayed you.

“I come bearing a gift,” Anna Morgana announced. She extended both her hands. In the middle of them sat a small rectangular box that looked way too familiar. Something unpleasant rose in your chest. You glanced up at Anna Morgana worriedly, but she nodded encouragement.

“Come on, open it.”

You’d rather not. You’d really, really rather not. Why was it suddenly too hard to breathe? For a second you were about to slam the door in Anna Morgana’s face. But then from behind you came the sound of ruffling sheet, of a warm body stretching in a lazy summer morning light, the sun bright and shining and still going strong, still welcoming every new day.

With a shaky hand you opened the box and lifted up the thin, delicate moonstone necklace. Your heart was pounding, and the room was too hot.

“It matches the colour of your eyes,” you heard Anna Morgana say. “And this one won’t try to strangle you.”

“It’s beautiful,” came Cordelia’s voice. One of her arms slipped around your waist and drew you close to her. Your body relaxed. You glanced up at her for courage, like plants stretch towards the sun for life.

You managed to offer Anna Morgana a smile. “Thank you,” you said, your fingers closing around the necklace.

Cordelia’s fingers playfully tickled your hip and your thigh bumped hers in retaliation, just as something in your chest you had not really known was there loosened and took flight and disappeared out of the window to melt in the summer heat.

#ahs imagines #ahs #american horror story #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #fics

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moonflowerlesbians · 3 years

Text

I wrote the 10 year anniversary fic

She's short but she’s sweet. Please enjoy.

to be loved a whole life long

Rated T, ~2.6k.

~~~

What is an anniversary, really, if not merely a ploy to indulge in all of the little pleasures one denies on any other day? Saying, “oh, well, we ought to save it for a special occasion.”

And, what, Jamie thinks, is an occasion more special than the day marking the tenth year since she began this beautiful, insane journey with the love of her life. A woman so remarkable that Jamie almost can’t believe she’s real. Almost can’t believe that she can wake up beside the same person every morning, smelling the same fruity shampoo, spend the day working side by side, and still, every night, fall into bed, eager to pull Dani close. Then wake up the following day and do it all again.

It’s a stability Jamie never thought she would have. After years of bouncing from foster family to foster family, Bly was the closest thing to home she’d ever had. Until, that is, these ten, wonderful years with Dani in the flat they share above the little shop that they built from the ground up.

She thinks as much as beams of cozy sunlight filter through the gossamer curtains Dani picked out for their bedroom. She has an arm draped over Dani’s middle, her front to Dani’s back, her hand tracing idle circles on the plane of Dani’s stomach beneath her sleep shirt. Jamie can hear the quiet exhalations puffing against Dani’s wrist, which she’s managed to trap against her cheek. Jamie is certain she’ll be graced with complaints of pins and needles when Dani wakes. Jamie will laugh and offer to massage the numbness away, and Dani will roll her eyes but allow her limb to flop inelegantly into Jamie’s lap.

Jamie props herself up on one elbow, her fingers trailing a path from Dani’s midriff, up her arm, to brush a wayward strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Dani begins to stir as Jamie presses slow lips to the junction of her neck and shoulder, moves to the shell of her ear, her temple, the slender curve of her jaw.

Dani makes a noise low in her throat.

“Ah, there she is,” Jamie hums, her voice, though quiet, still too loud in the morning stillness.

“Thought we w’re gonna sleep in t’day,” Dani sighs, already preparing to nestle deeper into the blankets.

Jamie runs a playful finger down the bridge of Dani’s nose. “Already did that, love. ‘S nearly half nine.”

“F’rgot you get up ‘fore the early birds,” Dani grumbles, “An’thing past six ‘s late for you.”

“The plants wait for no one.”

“They’re plants. ‘S not like they have anywhere to be.”

“You don’t know that. Could have important plant business to attend to.”

Dani, at last, rolls over incredulously. “Like what?”

“Dunno,” Jamie shrugs, “but you’re awake now.”

“You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Mhm,” Jamie chuckles, “happy anniversary, baby.” Their kiss is languid, sleep-heavy. When they break apart, their foreheads still touch.

“Happy anniversary,” Dani whispers, thumb absently caressing Jamie’s cheekbone. Her eyes glimmer with mischief when she meets Jamie’s gaze. “Wouldn’t be opposed to staying in bed all day, though...”

“Need food first.”

Dani huffs. “Fine.”

“Thought we might try the new cafe on the corner of Leeland and Huntley for brunch. Apparently, they’ve got terrific blueberry muffins.”

“And you know this how?”

“Kid and her mum came through the shop the other day. Wee gremlin wouldn’t put the damn thing down,” Jamie gripes. “Got crumbs all over my daffodils.”

“She sounds cute.” Dani sounds almost wistful.

“‘Course you’d think so. Once a teacher, always a teacher.” She waves dismissively. “Or something like that.” Jamie rubs her palms together. “Right, then, up and at ‘em. Those muffins won’t eat themselves.”

“Didn’t realize you were so excited by baked goods.”

“Not the baked goods I’m excited for. I seem to recall mentions of returning to bed after food.”

+++

They are dressed and out the door in record time.

+++

They’ve closed the shop for the day, allowing themselves a brief reprieve from the discord of the wedding season. Every other day, it seems, a new blushing bride parades through their doors, followed by a mother or mother-in-law with a thousand questions and a dozen requests per minute. Jamie enjoys the work, truly. Seeing the delighted relief wash over the room as the arrangement designs are finalized is immensely gratifying. Almost as gratifying as watching her flowers, her precious creations, adorn ballrooms and churches, surrounded by people celebrating life. The joy of being alive.

She feels it now, she thinks, the sheer euphoria of existing. Here, walking down the street, a take-away cup of tea in her hand, with Dani’s arm roped through hers.

They are living on borrowed time, she knows, stark reminders of blue and brown present in every reflection. Every so often, Jamie catches herself longing, pleading for more time. She should be grateful for what the universe has gifted her. But, on days like these, days where the air is right and the sun is warm on her skin, she finds herself wishing for a forever that she cannot have. A forever unpromised to a monster that lurks beneath the most beautiful smile in the world.

She pushes the thought aside. Tomorrow is never promised. All she has is today. And she’ll be damned before she lets it slip away.

+++

They feed the waterfowl in the park with muffin crumbs. There are ducklings this time of year, and Dani’s gleeful cooing, high-pitched and elated, travels across the pond. Dappled shadows drape across her shoulders. Tree branches sway in a gentle breeze, casting a spotted cloak across the scene. Jamie feels the tension drain from her neck.

They sit, side by side, on the swingset, watching the joggers run past, waving at their neighbors and their golden retriever, the couple whose engagement party The Leafling decorated last month. Dani exchanges pleasantries with them all. It’s the Midwesterner in her, she likes to say, amicability is in her blood. Jamie does not understand, but she does her best to nod less than awkwardly while her partner makes smalltalk.

They stop for ice cream on the way home. It is a special occasion, after all, and the balmy June weather provides the perfect excuse to indulge in seldom-savored decadence. One, Jamie decides, they should absolutely partake in more often, if the child-like giddiness Dani expresses over cake batter ice cream is any indication. The crows feet at the corners of her eyes crinkle as she grins, and Jamie thinks she has never looked more lovely.

+++

A trans-Atlantic call to Owen foils their initial plans of baking their own lasagna after Dani lets slip that they weren’t planning to boil the noodles before layering in the sauces.

“For the love of God, please order in. The both of you are im-pasta-ble. It’s like I’ve taught you nothing.”

“That pun was weak, even for you.”

“This is what you’ve reduced me to.”

So, they call in a delivery order to the Italian place down the road. Jamie chivalrously offers to pick it up, and Dani ushers her out of the flat with a vigor that has Jamie raising an eyebrow. But, she simply shrugs and slides into the drivers’ seat of their second-hand pickup. The familiar rumble of the engine is comforting, the crooning of some jazz singer on the radio soothing background noise. Crickets chirp in the early summer evening.

She swings through the grocer to pick up champagne on her way home and juggles the bottle and the takeaway bag of food as she fumbles her key into the lock. Dani opens the door just as she’s about to turn the knob, and Jamie falls forward, Dani catching her by the arm.

“You alright?” Dani asks, but there’s an amused lilt to her voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. If you could just take…” Jamie’s mouth goes dry. Her face is level with Dani’s hips, which she has come to realize are covered in a velvety fabric she does not recognize. Her eyes flick up, coming to rest on Dani’s collarbones, the exposed skin of her arms, the accentuated curve of her waist. “You… I… uh….”

“You could’ve knocked, you know. I would’ve let you in.”

“I… yeah, could’ve… knocked.” Jamie realizes she is frozen in the entryway, jaw on the floor, and, in all honesty, cannot bring herself to care. Not when Dani is standing in front of her, clad in a gorgeous purple dress Jamie’s never seen before, her bangs styled to frame her face, while the remainder of her hair is pulled back. Jamie clears her throat. “You, ah, you changed.”

“I did.”

“You, you look…” Jamie searches for the right word, but none seem to encapsulate the overwhelming rush of emotion she feels, looking at the love of her life in the dim light from the bulb in the hallway outside their flat, on the tenth anniversary of the start of life she never thought she would have.

Damn the limitations of this bloody language. She can say “I got absolutely goddamn shitfaced last night” in a hundred different ways, but there is no succinct way to phrase, “I love you so fucking much and you are the most incredible person in the world and I don’t know how I got lucky enough to know you and I could spend the rest of my life holding your hand.”

It seems, at least to Jamie, a grievous failure of linguistic evolution.

“Beautiful,” she settles on, at last. “You’re so beautiful.” It’s not enough. But it will suffice.

“Come on, loverboy,” Dani says, tapping the bottom of Jamie’s chin with a slender index finger before giving a tug on her sleeve. “Food’s getting cold.” She’s blushing, though, a faint tint coloring her chest as she takes one of the plastic bags from Jamie. Jamie, who merely stares at Dani’s retreating silhouette before remembering she’s supposed to follow. She shuts the front door behind her and stumbles into the kitchen, setting the bottle and second bag on the countertop next to the stove.

When she turns around, Dani is in the living room holding a match to two candles set on a ceramic dish on their kitchen island. She’s laid out their nice dinnerware, which, really, consists of the four gold-encircled plates and matching napkin rings they’d found at an antique store in Milwaukee, back when they had been exploring the country Dani called home. A vase of roses is positioned on the coffee table, and it’s evident that Dani arranged them herself, and oh, oh, how Jamie loves her for it.

“Surprise?” Dani says shyly.

Jamie blinks at her. It’s all she can do not to break down. Instead, she settles for taking two bold steps to Dani's side of the counter and kissing her senseless. Dani lets out a squeak of surprise, but quickly relaxes into Jamie’s touch. She’s biting her lip when they separate, Jamie’s twirling the fine hairs at the nape of her neck as she presses their foreheads together.

“Let me change, and we’ll eat, yeah?”

“Sounds good.” Dani’s breathing is an ounce heavier than normal.

Jamie winks slyly, wanders to their bedroom and opens the closet, pulling out the first acceptable outfit she sees. She doesn’t have to change, she knows. Dani could care less whether she’s wearing a three-piece suit or sweatpants. (Though she suspects the suit might have the edge.) She dons a white, three-quarter zip and black slacks, pausing briefly to add a pair of black leather suspenders she knows Dani likes. Something about being easy to grab and pull.

Dani is struggling to uncork the champagne when Jamie returns to the kitchen. Her tongue pokes adorably out of the corner of her mouth, and her soft grunts of frustration are surprisingly endearing.

“Hand it over. Come on, now. Before you put your eye out.”

“I can do it,” Dani protests. “Just. Need to tweak it. A little.”

Jamie takes the opportunity to press against Dani’s back, her arms wrapping around to cover Dani’s hands where they fiddle with the bottle. For a moment, Dani forgets to be cross and reclines her head, resting it on Jamie’s shoulder. She sighs, relinquishing control, and Jamie huffs out a quick laugh. She holds the champagne over the sink to catch the overflow when the bottle pops.

Dani mumbles something about “having loosened it,” which Jamie meets with resolute agreement and a, “‘course you did, baby.”

The lasagne, an Owen-approved non-abomination, has been plated, Dani having evidently done so while Jamie was shucking her dayclothes. She pours them each a healthy flute of champagne and seats herself beside Dani, raising her glass.

She hesitates.

“Wait,” Dani exclaims, hurrying to the hall closet. She rummages for a second, bringing back the Polaroid camera Jamie had given her their first Christmas together. She checks the film, appears satisfied, and balances the device on an upturned colander to set up her shot. She sets the timer and sidles under Jamie’s arm, picking up her champagne flute. “Smile!” Dani beams.

When the image prints, the picture reveals Dani, with the biggest grin Jamie swears she’s ever seen, and Jamie at her side, looking positively smitten. The flash has illuminated the silver streaks in her hair, the lines embedded in her skin. Time has been kind to her, she reminds herself, others are not so lucky. And, in any case, when she looks at this photograph, she will not be looking at herself.

Dani kisses her cheek and moves her keepsake to the coffee table for safety. Too many important documents ruined by spills for her to risk it. She props it gently against the roses. It’s perfect.

Again, Jamie raises her glass. She inspects the contents.

Again, she hesitates. Then, a toast:

“To another ten.”

Silence.

Dani stills, looks at her.

Jamie can see the beginning of an argument forming on the tip of Dani’s tongue, and Jamie holds her stare. It’s a challenge. A dare, even.

They do not often speak of the distant future. Only when it is absolutely necessary do they broach the sensitive topic.

A world-weary smile paints Dani’s lips. Her eyes are burdened, the vivacity present mere seconds ago seemingly having vanished. She is tired. It shows in the slump of her shoulders, the crease of her brow, the way the giddiness of earlier has slunk away, leaving Dani bare-boned and fatigued.

She lifts her glass.

She says nothing.

“I love you,” Jamie murmurs after the faint clink of glass on glass. “So much.”

“Always,” Dani finishes. And Jamie knows she means it.

+++

They embrace beneath the sheets that night, sweat cooling in the dry air. Jamie’s fingers are tangled in blonde waves highlighted with grey. Dani’s breathing has evened out, short puffs tickling Jamie’s sternum, as Jamie contemplates the window over her head.

She has found someone to love, and someone to love her in return. Someone who will stay, even on the bad days. Someone who expects nothing and deserves everything.

Dani is everything Jamie thought she never deserved. Dani is good. Dani is good and exquisite and utterly unbelievable and, god, how Jamie loves her.

She loves waking up beside her every morning, and she loves smelling the same fruity shampoo on the pillow. She loves spending the day working together on the business they built from the dirt up. She loves falling into bed every night and pulling Dani close. Every minute they have together is a gift that Jamie refuses to take for granted.

To another ten years, she thinks, and allows her eyes to close. Dani sighs against her.

#hello lads look at me writing shit again #pls enjoy #I hope u like it #the haunting of bly manor #damie #damie fanfic #dani clayton #jamie #jamie taylor #jamie thobm #fic #writing #my writing #thobm fanfic #dani x jamie #jamie x dani

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

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Kinktober 2021, Day 5

As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

I went through several iterations of this in my head, trying to decide on who finding who would be best. This is what I settled on. Unfortunately, I also managed to lose a bit of dialogue I initially thought was on point, and had to replace it when I couldn't remember what it was later on.

Summary There are often reasons someone wants their space and time alone. Very rarely interrupting that alone time could be a boon.

Tags/Warnings Accidental Voyeurism, Dragoon Reader, Kinktober, Kinktober 2021, Oneshot, Masturbation, Prompt, Reader-Insert

Kinktober 2021, 05: Caught Masturbating (Reader x Estinien Wyrmblood | FFXIV)

It was the latest day of several on a trip into the wilderness to hone your lance skills and various other tricks of your trade. In between the brutal training sessions that left you bruised and sore, you had enjoyed the serenity of the world around you, off the beaten path from merchants and other travelers. Each night you had drifted off to sleep exhausted, but content with your progress, and the company of your teacher.

The sun was en route to its usual path beneath the horizon, and your training for the day had come to an end. As before, Estinien had given you no quarter, the way you preferred things. He would never have heard the end of it if he had gone easy on you in your training, after all. Though you didn’t miss the fleeting, tiny smiles when you surprised him or simply did better than expected, sure signs he was pleased with you. Each of them was a boon, fueling you tired body through the rest of the training regimen.

Yet as pleased as he seemed with you, after each and every training session, every day, Estinien would disappear for a bit, leaving you to your own devices. Usually, you just let him go, assuming the gruff elezen just needed to decompress or patrol or go clean away the sweat and grime from the rough sparring sessions. You hadn’t bothered to ask though, nor had you thought on it much until the most recent afternoon.

Assuming patrol was the most likely reason, you decided that you wanted to join him in ensuring the surrounding area was safe. After all, as competent as the both of you were, it seemed folly still to go off alone for too long. So not long after Estinien had wandered off, not even a quarter of a bell passing, you set off in search of him. He could cover great distances in a short time, true enough, but you were no slouch in that respect either, and you imagined he wouldn’t have gone too far.

Eventually, you spied a flash of snowy white and the glint of metal in the light of the descending sun and honed in on the source. Sure enough, through the brush, you could make out Estinien’s form reposing against an outcropping of rocks and a tree not more than a few days fallen. You grinned to yourself and approached, fully expecting Estinien to hear or sense you coming before you he really saw you. Yet his stance didn’t shift, and the closer you came, the more you realized he seemed… distracted.

Coming to the edge of the small clearing ringed with brush and crossing through it, you stopped dead in your tracks, finally having a less unobscured view of your traveling companion and teacher. You couldn’t stifle a small, strange noise at the sight that greeted you. Estinien was very distracted indeed, and his eyes were closed, a mixed look of focus and pleasure on his face. Some of his armor had been shed, baring pale skin to the air, and his head tipped back lightly. You followed one long arm down to where his cock stood free and clear from his armor and small clothes, his hand wrapped around it greedily.

Before the sound of your voice had broken the peace, Estinien hand stroked up and down his cock vigorously, pearly pre-cum beading at the head before being slicked along his length. He looked to be very much enjoying the moment, some silent words whispering past his lips. The spell of bliss Estinien had been under, though, was shattered by the noise you made, betraying your presence and declaring to him that he was no longer alone. His frame stiffened, and his hand jerked away from his cock, icy eyes shooting open to meet and hold yours.

For a few seconds that dragged on forever, neither of you could look away. Your eyes were trapped on the sight spread before you, a sight that made you flush hotly with both embarrassment and an unexpected wave of arousal. Estinien’s expression was shocked at first, though it flickered through several emotions in a fraction of time. Back and forth, as if arguing with himself over something. He didn’t move to hide his cock away initially, simply obscuring it with the cover of his limbs. Just when he was about to shift, turn away and tuck himself back into his small clothes, the focus of your eyes broke off, darting down for a lingering moment.

Half-turned, Estinien stalled, eyes narrowing as he tried to pierce the silence and solve the puzzle of your own expression. Though you had looked as shocked as him to start, a primal ember had ignited, chasing away the surprise, and leaving a hunger likely thought hidden in its wake. You weren’t averse to the sight of him unhindered, only caught off guard. The realization came to you nearly at the same time as it dawned on Estinien.

Though your realization had been made, you remembered in that same instant your decency - that staring wordlessly right at the man’s dick was likely not what you should be doing right then. With a hard swallow, you forced your face to the side, clearing your throat nervously as if to defuse the awkwardness you thought had been born. Your face felt even more searing, and you licked your lips absently, though with how dry your mouth was, it did you little good.

“I-I apologize. Don’t know what came over me,” you lied. “I was just…” you couldn’t think of a proper excuse. Surprised? Was that the word you were looking for? Certainly, that was part of the truth, but not its entirety.

Before you could drum up some reason you had been eyeing him in all his glory so intently after catching him masturbating in the woods, Estinien’s gravelly voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Are you going to give me shoddy excuses or are you going to give voice to the words shown on your face so clearly?”

Estinien’s rough, deep speech was already pleasant to you during day-to-day, mundane routine and duties, but something else infused his tone now that made you shiver, the heat from your cheeks and chest radiating through your form. Were you that much of an open book to him? Perhaps he hadn’t seen straight through your stammering and was only bluffing, as flustered as you were. But when you turned your head back, keeping your gaze level with Estinien’s, you saw the same desire you felt reflected at you. Either he very much liked the attention, or he very well knew what you were feeling, and it stirred the same within him.

In the beginning, Estinien had been caught red-handed, but now it was your turn to be caught out. Though was that such a bad thing? He had as much as demanded you tell him what he had read on your face. But what if you were still misunderstanding? Your stomach floundered at the thought, but the swelling heat in you shoved the uncertainty aside. You were going to take your change - you had already embarrassed both of you, could it get much worse?

You hesitated for another second, letting your eyes drift down again finally. Estinien still hadn’t bothered to put himself away, and through the shield of his limbs, you noted he continued to stand obviously erect. That was the last of the convincing you needed to answer his demand.

“F-Fine. I… I didn’t want to look away. Is that what you wanted to hear?” you asked defensively, attempting to wet dry lips once more. “I came looking to join you on patrol, to keep you company. But now, I’d rather much like to keep you company in a different manner.” At first, the words were a struggle, but as they went on, they emboldened you, bursting out. Relief and another rush of arousal surged through you.

A small grin you recognized twisted the corners of Estinien’s lips. That same smile you knew from your training sessions, that telltale sign he was pleased with you. “Then why mince more words?” It seemed so simple when he put it like that.

You couldn’t suppress a flustered huff, a new rush of warmth heating your cheeks. “Because… because I- ah, to hells with it!”

You threw your hands up, as if at wit’s end, and moved toward Estinien, still settled on the rock and bark. Estinien was right, no more words were necessary. Their time was past, and anything else would only make your situation messier. Now it was time to listen to the mutual need burning in your blood and thrum of your bodies.

You half-expected Estinien to balk when you reached out, grabbing his head in your hands and leaning to claim his lips in a ravenous kiss. But he was unbothered, pushing back into the kiss in a manner that was equally searing and intense. You invited onto his lap, the reminder of his arousal pressing at you through the leather of your chausses. Estinien ensnared your waist, pulling you tighter to him.

Part of you wondered if fucking your combat instructor would make things awkward later. Though a much greater part had no concert for something so seemingly trivial. Yet another part was curious if this had been the first time Estinien had gone out to masturbate. Or was the reason that Estinien went off alone after each and every training session that the sparring worked him up so much he needed to take care of things immediately?

Perhaps you should have gone looking for him sooner during your trip.

#kinktober #kinktober 2021 #estinien wyrmblood #ffxiv #fanfiction #writing #day 5 #nsft #n/s/f/w

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

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I'm doing a Haikyuu male reader next of my own devising since hoes don't want to request 🙄.Fyi i write smut, angst, and fluff just tell me yeah charcter, category and plot of you want.

Sukuna x Gojo x femReader

Don't ask the time period i don't even know man😓😭 I'd like to say it's set in Africa during like the era when Japan still had emperor's.

Once again sorry I'm working so slow sometimes plots don't work and i have to restart.

But reciving the news of my teacher/second father's death this morning has urged me to bury myself in work.

Yokai Gojo and Sukuna

When they speak japanese it will be bold

Warnings: manipulation, behind the scenes murder, hidden angst

You were a fool for venturing out in the wilderness by yourself. Have you learned nothing from your grandmother?!

The sound of crows and cicadas vibrated around you as you walked through the forest. You were only out here for some berries, so how on earth did you get lost?

Your feet were bare and sore, and the sky was only getting darker as the sun lowered. Finally deciding that continuing to walk wouldn't help, you opt to climb a tree.

As you climbed further, you prayed that you wouldn't fall as numerous species of insects crawled throughout the tree and unfortunately on your hands and back.

Reaching a height great enough that you could see over the trees, you spot water in the distance. It was the river just east from your village and that was a promising sign that you weren't a complete idiot.

Climbing down the tree with less grace than you came, you head in the direction of the river, and soon the forest floor is shrouded in shadows as the sun finally sets. You hug yourself and press your arms close to your shaking body.

As you walked, you noticed warm light peeking through shrubbery ahead. You slowed your steps and walked with your feet at an angle. By some miracle, you avoided the sticks below you. "Wait till I tell father about this he'll have to let me hunt with him"

You grimace, "Assuming he'll let me leave home ever again after this" Thinking of your father put a sour taste in your mouth. The man loved you, truly, but the only way he deemed you safe is if you are at home all the time or if you are with your future husband at all times. One of which you were not ready for, and the other you'd rather not.

You got as close to the light as you could without being noticed, and crouched. Two men stood next to each other facing a fire in the opposite direction of you. Good, you could stay down wind. A rough voice spoke, but you were not able to understand the strange language he spoke.

They were tall and pale and the clothes they wore, was not of your region. The closest you could compare it to was the robes worn by the elders once they reached a certain age.

Their hair color was strange as well. The tallest one had hair the color of winter snow meanwhile the other's hair was pink like your mother's roses. They spoke more but you still couldn't understand what they were saying.

The one with white hair seemed familiar to you yet you couldn't quite place it. Either way, you didn't feel safe approaching them on your own so you decided to walk around.

You shift from one foot to the other and fall back on your bottom as something flies over your head. Looking behind, you saw a knife in a tree behind you.

"Screw this!" You whispered to yourself, taking off. You run blindly through the forest, jumping over fallen trees and on many occasions running on all fours when you fell down.

Fear should have been on your mind but all you could think of was how your mother would kill you when she saw the tears that were most likely forming on your clothes.

After you get a good distance, you stop and take in your surroundings. To your left, you gaze with wide eyes, at the reflection of the moon on the lake. Hopefulness filled your heart as you saw twinkling fire coming from your village in the distance.

You were finally home, is all you thought as you took a step forward. You freeze as a shiver goes down your spine and moments later, something wraps itself around your ankles, dragging you back into the dark forest.

You cover your face as you're dragged across the floor. It was a long while till you stopped and when you did, you found yourself back to the two men as they towered over you.

They looked down at you, well one did, the others eyes were covered and that scared you more than the man grinning sinisterly above you.

"Would you look at that, you got pretty far,, my vine couldn't even reach you till you stopped." The vine releases you and you quickly crawl back. "You should have kept running I love a good chase." The man with white hair grinned down at you, hands in the sleeves of his robe.

The pink haired man crouched in front of you, and you flinch as your see fangs flash in the fun light. "Demon." You whimper as you look at the smaller eyes surrounding his normal ones.

Black markings surrounded his face and down his chest that was strangely bare despite the cool air. "You like what you see?" While you couldn't understand him verbally, it was obvious that he was gloating.

You turn your face haughtily, "She doesn't speak Japanese." Gojo finally spoke up, looking at you with subtle interest. He recognized you from his visit to your village. Well it wasn't necessarily a 'visit' more like he watched from afar.

You had seen him before though, whether you knew it or not.

Gojo cleared his throat, "Can you tell us what you were doing in the bushes?" Your eyes widened at his ability to speak your language. While it was comforting, it was even more suspicious.

"I was going home, and your light caught my attention." You said calmly. It's best that they don't know you were lost. Your eyes darted to the pink haired man who stayed crouched in front of you.

He raises his hand towards you, and you swallow as his sharp nails come into view. "You're a pretty little thing aren't you?" You resist the urge to slap his hands away as he uses the back of his finger to caress your cheek.

These men are dangerous, one clearly more reckless than the other. All it took was one wrong move and you'd be on the receiving end of that danger. "I would like to be on my way, sorry for bothering you."

You stand up and take a few steps back. A warm chest stops your retreat and you look up to see the white haired man standing behind you. "What's the rush, can't we have a little fun? Look, if you entertain us a bit, we'll walk you home." The pink haired man said in a singsong voice.

You shook your head and walked around the white haired man. "No thank you, it's not that far." The white haired man shrugged and watched you walk away. "We really gonna let a good piece of ass like that go?" Sukuna grumbled as he watched the darkness swallow your form.

Gojo placed his hands behind his head, "She'll be back don't worry."

You walked in the direction you had before, but it seemed as if you were no closer to leaving the forest like before. You climbed a tree and saw the river once again and walked towards it. But it seemed as if you were truly making no moves towards it whatsoever.

After a while of sitting in the nerve racking darkness, you walk back in the direction of the men, hoping they haven't left yet. It was against your better judgement, but they were the only option you had left.

To your luck, they hadn't left and were tending to their own flames. When you came back into view, they looked up at you. And you tried to ignore the rose haired man's knowing smirk.

The white hair man, that you have come to trust more than the other, waved at you slightly as you got closer to the fire. "I thought you were going home?" You shrugged your shoulders embarrassed.

"I got lost." Both men humed with mock concern. The pink haired man walked towards you loosely. "That's not good, I'm sure your family is worried sick." You nodded absent-mindedly. An arm is slung around your shoulder and you lean into it, basking in the warmth.

"Well we can't have that now can we Gojo?" The pink haired man looked at the man next to you, Gojo. "No I don't think I'd be able to sleep easily if I left you alone, how about you Sukuna."

If one were to have looked up. One would have noticed a strangeness to the sky above. Almost as if being covered by a bubble the sky closed and got considerably darker.

A barrier. After all, wouldn't want anyone to hear you scream.

"So do you promise to entertain?" Sukuna held out his hand and you looked at it. The black lines wrapping around his arms seemed to move but you summed it up to being a truck of the light. "What kind of entertainment?"

Gojo squeezed your shoulders and you shivered as his warm breath brushed against your ear. "Nothing you won't enjoy as well, we're all adults here aren't we?" You could feel your face warm at the implications. "I-I don't think I can do that."

You go to stand and the barrier above stops. "Aw what a shame." Sukuna turns back around as if heading to sit down but stopping. "But how will you get home!?" You furrow your berries, weren't they still going to take you?

Gojo noticed your face, "Ah, my dear this is a world of give and take. So I'm afraid we can't do things without a price. But if you feel better off on your own figuring your way through the dark woods, then we respect your decision."

You didn't want to do that and they both knew it.

"What do you want in return?" Gojo and Sukuna shared a look with each other. Your eyes widened as Gojo's hand trailed down your back, drawing circles when it got just above your butt. "Just a little pleasure…mixed with a little pain." Sukuna's teeth shined in the fire's light.

"Pain?! Out here?!? No, anyone could see!" You stood up, Gojo following suit. He had yet to say anything but knew Sukuna could handle it.

Like a snake, the tatted man came close to you and held your chin as one arm wrapped around your waist. "Oh calm down sweet cheeks, a little pain never hurt anybody." He leaned forward closer to your neck and you suck in a breath as you feel him nibble on your earlobe. "I'll make sure of it."

Gojo pressed against your back, "Don't worry about being seen." He clicked his fingers and suddenly you found yourself shrouded in darkness. In the middle of said darkness, was a large bed with a bright sourceless light glaring down at it.

Hands are on you in an instant, and you are pulled into the bed with Sukuna behind you and Gojo in front.

Because you were only wearing short bottoms, your legs were easily accessible. Hot wet kisses are layed on your caves as Gojo travels up your body.

Sukuna was less attentive. Taking your face in a harsh grip and kissing you roughly. You squeaked as his thumb nail pierced your cheek. A red red stream of blood falls down your cheek and Sukuna laps it up like a starved animal.

"Be gentle with her." Gojo tutted at his rude counterpart who only scoffed. "Why should I when breaking them is the best part?!" Your neck was gripped tightly and forced you to watch Gojo nip at your clothed thighs. "You like that don't you?" You shook your head embarrassed as Gojo's hands went behind you, cupping your ass.

He skillfully massages them before tugging your pants down. "You're moving too damn slow Satoru."

Sukuna's rough voice made you turn as it vibrates against the shell of your ear. "Patience, wouldn't want to hurt them." "That's the point as far as I'm concerned."

Sukuna puts his hands under your shirt and goes to cup your small chest. "I usually prefer mine with a little more here but I guess you'll have to do." Your body twitches as Sukuna mercilessly pinches and pulls at your nipples till they became puffy.

You close your eyes as you feel Gojo's warm mouth cover your pussy. His tongue played with your lips before pushing farther. You were beyond wet at this point and his tongue was simply sinful.

Sukuna was starting to feel ignored, so it was no surprise when he made it known. He pushes at Gojo's head with his foot before turning you around to face him on your knees. Fingers swipe over your lips before trailing up to your head.

You wince as his fingers curl into your fro, pulling your face to his crotch. "Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use?" You fumble clumsily with the soft cloth of his robes before finally finding the prize. You lost all nerve when you saw how thick it was.

Forget going inside of you, you doubt it could even fit in your mouth. Sukuna pressed your face closer, urging you to start. You stick your tongue out hesitantly and collect the salty fluids dripping out of the tip. Just from that small simulation, Sukuna groans lowly.

Gojo had long since resumed his meal, and the sounds leaving his mouth was obscene. You couldn't see it but Sukuna watched with curious eyes as Gojo's face developed into a bit of a red color as he pressed his mouth against you.

Faint whimpers could be heard from him and the vibrations shook your core the louder he got. "Hey Satoru what's with that face, you're moaning like a bitch." Gojo doesn't respond as he grips your thighs harder. Sukuna pressed your face closer to his dick and you have no choice but to take him in your mouth.

You bobbed your head as his hand guided you relentlessly. With his other hand, Sukuna leaned forward and tugged at Gojo's blindfold.

Gojo's face was just as lewd as the noises he made. His sky blue eyes were shining with unshed tears and Sukuna had never seen a man look as content. You stop sucking when something wet hits your lower leg.

Looking in between your thighs, Sukuna laughs as he sees Gojo helplessly humping the air as warm ropes of cum spurted from his exposed cock. Sakuna gripped Gojo's now limp hair and the snow blond man glared at him through his dazed eyes. "You really are a bitch aren't you?"

Gojo reached forward and gripped Sukuna's face just as harshly, "Yes but this bitch knows how to please a woman." With that, he kisses Sukuna, forcing his tongue past his lips and exploring his mouth.

You watched, mouth agape as the men showed such an intimate display of dominance. Sukuna's fingers trailed down your back as he tongue fucked Gojo. Gaining more dominance, Sukuna fluidly pushes Gojo back far enough that he could slip two of his fingers inside of you.

While it was uncomfortable due to his sharp nails, you couldn't help but get a thrill as they scraped against your walls. Sukuna jerks his head away, his ruby eyes flared with lust and confidence. "Let's see about that."

You find yourself on your back with your head hanging off of the bed as Sukuna takes place over you and Gojo stands above you. The white haired man was beyond red and his dick was fairing no better.

It was long and an angry purple, dripping with so much pre cum that it had made his dick slick and shiny.

As if under a spell you open your mouth and Gojo quickly slides inside, gripping the sheets next to your head tightly as he face fucks you. You gag profusely as the head relentlessly slides down your throat without stopping.

You bring your hands to grip his thighs to try and gain some bearing but that only spurs him on as his thrust became rougher, and the sound of you choking becomes rhythmic as drool collects in the corner of your mouth.

"What happened to treating her gently?" Sukuna smirks as he watches the skin around your neck bulge with each thrust. "S-Sorry, young lady, but your mouth is so fucking warm and tight." Gojo slows himself into a slow grind, tapping his fingers against the bulge in your neck. You finally get a chance to breathe through your nose.

Sukuna finger fucks you a little bit more, scraping his nails uncomfortably against the walls of your cunt. When he pulls them out, they are soaked and he licks his fingers clean, humming at the taste.

He positions himself at your entrance and pushes in without stopping. Your pained moan is muffled by the sound of Gojo's balls hitting your forehead but Sukuna still hears it and mutters out a quick apology as he goes slower. "Fu-ah~, what happened to breaking them?" Gojo said mockingly.

Sukuna glares before snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself completely inside of you. Your nails dug into Gojo's skin, and his hips stutterd as he moaned. Sukuna grips your chests and uses them for momentum as he opens you up on his dick. "For someone that was so reluctant, you sure are fucking wet down here."

Sukuna uses his thumb to circle your clit and your hips raised unapologetically from the shocks of pleasure. "Filthy little human." Sukuna laughed as he continued to play with your swollen clit.

Mixed with your lack of property oxygen, the boys running to your head, and the two sources of pleasure, your thighs shake and you cum around Sukuna's dick. He laughs darkly, speeding up his thrusts as he holds your limp legs in the air. "Yes, cum again. I want to feel your pathetic pussy squeeze my dick."

Gojo had stilled and was breathing heavily as he watched Sukuna disappear inside of you. "My turn." His still hard cock slips out of your mouth and you find yourself thrown into a coughing fit.

Sukuna begrudgingly switches spots with Gojo but takes joy in holding your head as he uses your mouth like a fleshlight. "Fuuuuuck. Perfect little mouth for me. I want you to swallow my cum wench!" You whined as Gojo pushes his cock inside of you.

It was longer than Sukuna's and you could already feel the soreness as the tip grazed against your cervix. Gojo adjusts your legs to rest on his shoulders as he folds you over.

The sensations are entirely too much as air is pushed out of you from the restricting position. The sensitive walls of your cunt both sucked and pushed Gojo's cock as he delivered deliberately slow strokes. "So messy down here." Gojo uses the palm of his hand to quickly swish at your clit.

Your brown legs tremble around your head and Sukuna uses this chance to grab your feet as leverage.

By now, your mouth had completely gone slack as he abused your throat, completely ignoring the scrape of your teeth around his shaft. "Fuck I'm gonna cum." Sukuna groans, speeding up. Gojo speeds up as well, "Shit me too, you better cum with me you two-faced bastard.!"

You grip the sheets for dear life and between you and me, you blacked out as the two filled your holes with milky cum. The tangling of body's unraveled and rested together as you all came down from your highs.

Well the boys did, you fell asleep.

They tuck you into the bed after Gojo changed the sheets. "So you said you can keep her in your zone?" Gojo nodded as he did his best to put your 4c hair into braids.

"Yeah, but what are we gonna do if she asks to go home." Sukuna smiled as he looked at his nails. Sinister later fills the empty abyss of Gojo's zone and the man looked boredly as Sukuna laughed.

"She can't go somewhere that no longer exists."

#black y/n #blackreader #jjk sukuna #jjk smut #gojo smut #sukuna smut

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shiningdesignersreflections · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3: Bloom Poetry

Narrated by Nikki.

Momo: We’re back? Are we really back?

Nikki: Yes! These trees... I know these trees!

Narrator: I sprint back home through the thicket, heart pounding in excitement.

Nikki: Mom! I missed you so much!

Narrator: I throw open the door and leap into my mom’s arms.

Mom: Huh? Didn’t you go out just now?

Nikki: I just miss you a lot, okay?

Mom: Oh, you forgot to bring your picnic lunchbox.

Narrator: I finally remember that, back in this world, I was going on a picnic with friends.

Mom: I gotta go back to work now. Don’t get home too late! And remember to frame up your dad’s treasure map and photos.

Nikki: Okay. Bye, Mom!

Yoyo: Nikki? Thought you went out. Come choose a party outfit for me!

Narrator: Yoyo pokes her head out of her room, wearing a face mask.

Narrator: She’s my older sister. She loves luxurious, elegant styles.

Nikki: Sure!

[Here you do a little Styling Battle, Gold/Elegant attribute.]

Yoyo: Whoo, looks like your sense of style has improved overnight.

Nikki: Really?

Momo: I’m a great teacher, after all.

Yoyo: Nah, she’s got my daily tips to thank. Anyway, have fun, you guys. I’m gonna work on my makeup now.

Narrator: Picking up the styled outfit, Yoyo disappears into her room.

Narrator: Momo and I sit in the lounge, sorting out photos and frames, reminiscing over our lives pre-Miraland.

Narrator: I spot my favorite snacks in the lounge.

Nikki: The couch at home really is the comfiest...

Momo: Yeah! The BBQ here tastes like home, too!

Narrator: Sunshine pours in from the window, lighting up this safe harbor.

Narrator: Now... I kind of feel like staying.

Narrator: Miarland, to me, is just a very, very long dream.

Narrator: Maybe it really was a dream. I’m just an ordinary girl, after all. Why’d they expect me to change the world?

Momo: Nikki... can we stay here a bit longer before going back to Miraland?

Nikki: I wish we could...

Narrator: But the alarm I set rings. 29 minutes have already passed.

Momo: But if we don’t go back now, we’ll never be able to return to Miraland... right?

Nikki: Uh-huh...

Nikki: No more dangers lurking around the corner. We can happily nap and go to parties and attend classes...

Momo: And eat BBQ... play games...

Narrator: The room grows quiet.

Choose either “You’re staying?” or “You should go.”

If “staying,” ...

You: So you didn’t end up going back?

Nikki: If we chose to stay home, all the following stories of Miraland would not have existed.

If “go,” ...

You: You still went back, didn’t you?

Nikki: Yeah. That’s how the following stories happened.

---

Narrator: I leave a post-it note on my family’s little bulletin board.

Note: I’ll be back for dinner! I’m gonna find the perfect dress for the party tomorrow.

Narrator: Marina and Aeon seem shocked to see us back.

Marina: I know you’d come back, Nikki!

Aeon: ...

Narrator: Aeon doesn’t seem as excited. He gazes into my eyes and asks solemnly...

Aeon: Are you sure, you’re ready? Miraland of 680 years ago isn’t as peaceful as you think.

Aeon: You’ll encounter lots of dangers. Some might even be fatal.

Nikki: I don’t know much about the era, but since I have a connection with Miraland, I still want to try and change its fate.

Nikki: If I choose to stay home now... Miraland will really be nothing but a dream.

Nikki: I want Miraland to continue existing. And my friends to live on.

Nikki: Even if we’re not in the same world, we’ll remember each other when we see flowers, stars, the stage... as long as we live.

Nikki: I still want to give it a try.

Narrator: After a long silence, Aeon finally nods.

Aeon: Okay, then.

Nikki: Thank you! Please take us back to Miraland of 680 years ago, then.

Aeon: Not so soon.

Nikki: ?

Aeon: I have a favor to ask you, too, regarding the Ark. I need to make sure you know how to stay safe before sending you off.

Narrator: I stay on the Ark for a period, where Aeon teaches me all about Designer’s Reflections and outfit sets.

Narrator: I’m now an intern manager of the Ark, too! I’ve collected lots of info on Designer’s Reflections.

Narrator: And I even designed a dress!

Narrator: Marina says the flowers blooming on the dress’ hem are as bedazzling as the way Miraland ended.

Narrator: But that wasn’t why I chose this design.

Narrator: I’m just trying to remind myself, my wimpy, homesick self, that I should be more like a blooming flower.

Narrator: A blooming flower would always choose a life full of beauty and passion.

Narrator: They face the unknown with open arms and courage.

Narrator: At home, I’m protected by my family, in a familiar environment. So carefree, so blissful.

Narrator: But if I give up on this adventure, I won’t ever see new sceneries, experience new stories.

Nikki: What do you think?

Choose either “I think so, too” or “Better to live a simple life.”

If “think so,” ...

You: I totally agree!

Nikki: Yeah. After what I’ve been through, I don’t regret making the choice at all.

If “simple life,” ...

You: I’d rather life a simple, carefree life.

Nikki: Yeah. I’m happy to create memories with my family, too.

Nikki: But I’ve never regretted my choice.

---

Narrator: We’re ready to set off to Miraland of 680 years ago, but Marina is hanging onto my leg, begging me to stay.

Marina: Don’t go, Nikki! Stay and play with me a bit more!

Momo: ...I’d rather not.

Nikki: I’ll come back to visit, Marina.

Aeon:: Ready?

Nikki: As ready as ever.

Aeon: Remember, if you have any questions, contact us immediately.

Nikki: Yeah. You’ve already told me that several times.

Narrator: I smile, then lock eyes with him, gaze turning serious.

Nikki: Thank you, Aeon:

Aeon: ...Ahem.

Narrator: Aeon raises a hand and clears his throat.

Nikki: No matter what happens, at least you’ve taught me the power of beauty! I’ll use it well!

Aeon: I’ll some contacts to aid you in your journey.

Nikki: Well, farewell, then.

Narrator: I turn around and set off on my new journey.

Narrator: The Ocean of Memories is tranquil, the waters completely still.

Narrator: The stars are shining bright in the distance, guiding us on our path.

Narrator: And then, at the Gate of Heart, I met you.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

#nikki #shining nikki #designer's reflection #sr designer #designer #chapter 3 #transcript #bloom poetry #home #goodbye #memory #family #apple

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violet-knox · 4 years

Note

Hey, can you do Adult Severus/Muggle. Reader finds Severus and takes it upon herself to look after him? Can it be fluff and cute af, please?

Long Forgotten

Pairing: Severus Snape x Muggle!Reader

Summary: You’re infatuated by the man in black who hangs around the school where you work until one day you approach him out of concern.

Word Count: 6112

A/N: So I got a bit carried away with this one. The fluff comes a bit after and in this story they don’t actually end up together (yet), it’s rather slow paced, but it was a lot of fun to write. I may end up doing part two for this one when I get the chance. I feel so unsatisfied 😅

Your stomach growled and you knew it was time to pack up the essays you’d been grading and head home for dinner. But once again, the shadow hidden behind the tree at the edge of the playground wiped any thought you had of leaving the classroom. The same man, always dressed in black, always dragging his feet like he held the world on his shoulders, had been lurking around the edge of the school grounds every day for a little over a week now and the sight of him always sent shivers up your spine. You were wary of his presence, always caught in the corner of your eye as you stayed behind in your classroom despite better judgment.

Common sense told you to speak to someone of the man’s daily visits to the school, yet you were reluctant to say a word to anyone. He would always show up well after the students had left and he’d never wander anywhere past that tree. He didn’t seem like a threat to you, his sadness instead reflected by the way he’d hang his head low, one hand on the tree trunk, sinking down to the ground as he continued to stare at it. You knew he had a story, a reason for being there but you’d never once thought of approaching him to ask, fear striking you back. You were conflicted and so you stayed the observer, watching him from afar, his movements never changing, his intentions never present. He was a mystery that you weren’t sure you’d ever solve.

“You’re still here?” Looking up from the desk you saw Ms. Simmons at the door of her classroom with a smile as large as her optimism. She was such a sweet woman, under appreciated by her students and misunderstood by the staff. But you were happy to have been assigned to her, helping and learning from her. Most of your mates from college complained about the teacher they got placed with but not you. Ms. Simmons was the one good thing about the miserable placement you got: the worst ranking elementary school in Cokeworth. Many saw it as a joke of a school, yet children of varying households would attend it nonetheless.

“I’m just finishing up the essay’s they handed in today,” you informed her. She walked over to her desk where you were sitting and pulled open one of the drawers and reached inside. You watched her pull out an empty flask and stuff it into her giant purse, shattering your perfect, innocent view of her.

“I’ve worked here since the day this school has opened and never have I seen someone as dedicated to work with these students as you are.” She spoke with such glee in her voice but when you looked back into her eyes, all that optimism you’d previously admired sizzled away, replaced with the burden of working as an underpaid teacher in such a horrible school district. Your eyes drifted away from her face, unable to take the sight, your mind rejecting what you saw as your probable future. Instead you found your thoughts returning back to the man in black as you watched him hunching over the tree with one hand leaning on it’s trunk as he slowly kneeled down to the ground, his head hung as low as ever.

“I’m just delighted to have the opportunity to work with you.” Your words flowed like you were reading off a script, your mind completely detached from where you were, wondering why that man was so obsessed over that tree.

“Well don’t stay too long.” You snapped back in time to watch Ms. Simmons walk around you and back to the door. “Have a nice night!”

“You too,” you said, trying to reciprocate her fake kindness as she disappeared down the narrow school halls. Sitting back in the chair, you tossed the pen in your hand back on the desk in defeat. This job wasn’t worth it and you’d been lying to yourself, believing it was anything but a waste of time. You’d only gone into education thinking you could make a difference in the sad meagre town you grew up in when in reality, any impact you could possibly have wouldn’t make a shred of difference to anyone.

With a loud groan, you closed your eyes and threw your head back in frustration. What would you do if you quit this job? Four years of college down the drain and even if you tried to move to a different city, London perhaps, you knew your credentials wouldn't hold up amongst the competition that awaited you there. You had no choice; you had to stay in Cokeworth and make what you could of the path you chose, else you’d have to back pedal completely and find a way to head down a different road.

Looking back towards the window, you looked for the man in black, trying to get your mind off your own life because pondering over the mystery of someone else's was better than dealing with your reality. The man’s figure was nowhere to be found when you looked at the tree. Squinting you thought perhaps his shadow had merged with the trunk he’d been sulking over for so long, but you still couldn’t catch a glimpse of him. He couldn’t have left. You knew that because you’d always refused to leave before he did. He was the reason you’d eat dinner so late, why you’d been living off of four to five hours of sleep every night. Curiosity taking over any sense of logic, you stood and walked towards the window, realizing you couldn’t see him from the desk because he’d somehow found himself lying on the ground. Taking a step forward, you placed a hand on the window, your brows furrowed as you tried to make out any sense of movement, any indication the man was alright but you were given no such luck.

You stood there a moment, praying he would move but as the seconds slowed, your heart beat faster and your concern for the stranger grew. Against better judgment, you turned on your heel and ran out the door. The sounds of your quick footsteps echoed down the empty hall as you pushed open the door leading to the playground and ran towards the man, slowing as you approached him. He was in the exact same position you’d seen him from the classroom window but as you drew nearer, you couldn’t fathom why he was unconscious on the ground.

“Hello?” You tried to speak to the man. No response. He looked young, perhaps even a bit younger than you and you couldn’t spot any wounds on him though the black trousers and jacket surely didn’t help with visibility. “Are you alright?”

No response. Stepping a little closer, you kneeled in front of him, your hand hovering to reach for his shoulder but you hesitated. This was a bad idea. You didn’t know the man and for all you knew, he could have been stalking you this entire time, peering into the classroom window which was much more exposed than you thought it was from here.

“Can you hear me?” You tried again, your hand pressed against the thin material of his jacket, gently squeezing his shoulder. No response. You swallowed hard, your chest heaving for air. What were you to do? You’d never trained for something like this, never been told what to do in a situation like this. Desperately, you peered over the man and his surroundings, no open wounds found but his chest still rose and fell with every breath he took; he was alive at least.

Standing, you looked at the tree the man had spent so long near and saw an engraving, one that was clearly done a while ago, the wood browning as the tree healed from its carving. Judging by the height and sloppy handwriting, you assumed the two names that were spelt were written by children: Lily and Sev. Sev, what an odd name, or perhaps it was a nickname of some sort. Strange how you’d never noticed it before, but there was no time for your curiosity right now. Sprinting back to the school, you made your way to the office, panting as you picked up the phone and called the police, informing them of what had happened.

With the assurance that an ambulance would be by within a few minutes, you put down the phone and made your way back to the man, immediately peering at his chest to see that he was still breathing. The women on the phone had asked if the man had a pulse but you were unsure. You’d seen people check a person’s pulse in movies, but you’d never done it yourself. You felt absolutely useless talking to that woman, unable to tell her a single thing, not even a proper description of the man.

Peering at the man’s face through the hair that showered him, your eyes ventured down to his neck, his hair long enough to cover any skin that wasn’t cloaked by the black button up he was wearing under his jacket. Cautiously, you moved a hand to ever so gently brush away his hair and expose his face and neck. It felt as though you were defusing a bomb, fingers so gentle, gliding against his skin which seemed colder than it should have been. Pulling your hand away, you looked back down at him, realizing how awkward a move you’d just made. He wasn’t anyone you knew, yet you touched him as though you were waking up to your long-life partner in the morning.

It was odd seeing his face for the first time after recognizing him from afar for so long. He wasn’t anything like you imagined, his features though prominent, grew much softer the longer you looked at him. His eyelashes were long and thick, much like his hair and eyebrows, his lips were thin, his cheeks sharp along with his jaw and his nose was hooked. Looking at him now, you weren’t sure how old he was. You’d initially assumed he was in his early twenties but something about him made you think otherwise. It was as though he’d lived a life long enough to stretch over a century, but you knew that wasn’t the case, it couldn’t have been.

Shaking your head, you tried to get your mind off of filling in all those questions you’d wondered about him this past week and reached over, pressing two fingers on his neck, searching for a pule, unsure of what you were truly looking for. No resp-

You gasped at the sudden grasp on your wrist, the charcoal eyes of the man staring back at you as his nails dug into your skin. Your heart nearly stopped as you looked at his stern expression, his body too weak to project the alarm on his face.

“Are-Are you alright?” You croaked, your throat suddenly dry as you tried to pull your hand away from him. His grasp was too strong despite his obvious need for medical attention. Where was that damn ambulance!?

“Who are you?” His voice was raspy, like there was a frog in his throat but his tone confirmed he was on the defensive, unable to let go of your hand in fear of your intentions. His words at least answered one question floating around in your mind; he hadn’t come around the school this past week to stalk you, he was likely here for personal reasons, something to do with that tree and the engraving it carried.

“I-I work at the school, I-I'm a student teacher,” you said, reluctant to give your name, still completely clueless as to who he was. The man looked down at the school you gestured to, his expression suddenly changing as if he had some sort of awkward realization. “I think you’re hurt.”

You could still not identify the source of his wound, but people don’t just collapse, they don’t struggle to speak or move if there isn’t something wrong with them. You wanted to help the man despite his less than friendly attitude towards you, but you still had no idea what to do.

“I’m fine,” he replied, finally letting go of your hand only to press his palms into the ground and try to stand up. Instinctively, you grabbed his arm, trying to keep him from falling as his legs shook failing at supporting him. He was skinny, his limbs looking like twigs the kids would play with, pretending they were swords. How he’d managed to sit up was beyond you.

“I don’t think you should be moving.” You protested as he tried pushing you away, too weak to counter your own strength. “I called for an ambulance. They should be here any minute.”

“No,” he said all too quickly. “I don’t need them.”

His sudden reaction to the mention of an ambulance was rather alarming. Who would turn down help when they so obviously needed it? Even if it seemed that the ambulance would never arrive, at least he could have found comfort in knowing help was on its way.

“But-”

“Leave.” His tone turned cold as he summoned every fibre of strength left in his body to push you away. “I don’t need you either.”

You looked at him, stunned by his attitude. Sure, you were a stranger, but in his position, you wouldn’t have questioned taking any sort of help from anyone. His body trembled under your touch as he tried to get away from you, like if he’d stayed here any longer, all his secrets would be spilled, exposing themselves to you. You let go of him as he got to his feet, his body immediately seeking aid, throwing itself onto the tree to keep himself upright. You heard a low groan escape his lips as his entire upper body placed its dependence on the tree he’d been obsessed with this past week.

“I can’t just leave you here,” you said, your hands grasping him to ease the pressure off his frail legs. He seemed to finally accept your aid at first until you felt him regain some of his balance enough to push you away once again.

“I told you-”

“I’m not leaving!” you exclaimed in protest, your grip on him returning stronger than before. Clear shock was written all over his face as he looked at you blankly, wide eyed. You’d surprised yourself with your own assertive demeanour and clearly it had the same effect on him. You were inclined to give credit to your position as a teacher for your need to help the man, but it was more than that. He was a book you wanted to read, one filled with sadness and loneliness. You could see in his eyes the abandonment he’d been through, something you were all too familiar with. He wasn’t used to depending on anyone, thus the resistance he showed you now, your own determination countering it as you insisted on providing him aid, any sort of aid, no matter how little. “Let me at least help get you inside”.

You gestured to the school, your grip on his arm loosening when he finally stopped resisting you. You looked at him and you felt time stop, something new appearing in the depths of the darkness in his eyes. Hope was a powerful feeling, one that showed up in many forms. You’d felt it the day you met Ms. Simmons and now, you could see it emulated in the eyes of the man in black.

“No. Not here.” Whatever spell grasped you to his mind was broken when he looked back towards the school and as he spoke, you could sense a drastic change in his tone. He was much more relaxed, much warmer towards you, a sense of trust growing between you for reasons you couldn’t understand. “I-I need to go home.”

His lack of energy emulated itself in his voice. He seemed to have accepted the situation he was in, yet still seemed reluctant to accept proper help. There was only so much you could do for him, a hospital being the best place for him to be not his home.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” you protested his request, feeling rather nervous about his odd behaviour. It was human to accept help when offered so why was he so adamant on rejecting it?

“Please, if you want to help me, leave me be.” He sounded desperate, as if it was imperative for you to leave him to his own demise, like he’d die if you dare give him any aid. “I cannot go to a hospital. They cannot help me there.”

“Why?” His words told you one thing while his tone spoke the opposite. He’d been claiming he didn’t need you, that he didn’t need anyone’s help yet you sensed something entirely different from the way he spoke, the way he eased into your touch when he began to trust you.

“That is beyond your concern, now please let me go,” he said, his body making no motion to push you away either out of protest for his words or he was simply too weak to do as he wished. You couldn’t tell. His voice was still so raspy, even more so than before now that he’d started to let go of that defensive behaviour he’d taken with you.

“If you insist on going home, then at least let me drive you. My car is just over there.” You pointed towards the parking lot to the side of the school, not too far from where you stood. The man looked over to where you pointed and took a moment before hesitantly nodding in agreement to your suggestion. Slowly, you helped him walk down the hill to cross the school park, making your way to your car. You opened the passenger side door first and helped him in before jogging to the other side of the car.

“Your seatbelt,” you reminded the man, pointing to it as you fastened your own. Surely if he had enough energy to push you away, he would have enough energy to clip in a seatbelt. The man looked at you with that blank expression again before he rolled his eyes and slowly reached for the seatbelt. Funny how the man who seemed to be on the brink of death not moments ago continued to elude any sort of aid, even if it was from something as simple as a seatbelt. “Where are we going?”

“Spinner’s End,” he mumbled, the click of his seatbelt your queue to turn on the engine and leave the parking lot. You kept your eyes on the road but could feel the man’s black eyes on you, like he was studying you as you’d studied him over the past week. Fate must have a twisted sense of humour if this was where you were meant to be, driving an injured stranger to his home after pondering over the mystery that surrounded him the past few days.

“You know where Spinner’s End is?” The man asked, clearly surprised you hadn’t asked for directions.

“I used to live in the neighbourhood when I was growing up,” you explained, knowing most people in this town would rather pretend like the area around Spinner’s End didn’t exist before acknowledging there were actual people leaving there. It was reputations like that that made you adamant on changing the town, on trying to impact its youth. But of course, it was reputations like that of Spinner’s End that would live past the lifetime of the city itself.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he said, his voice sounding a little weaker but at least he seemed to be relaxing in the car instead of fighting to get away from you under that tree.

“You say that as if you know every single person on Spinner’s End,” you said, smiling at his claim, trying to lighten the mood a bit after everything that had happened. For a short moment you felt like you were driving with a friend, someone you’d known for years but the awkward silence thickening the air broke that illusion all too quickly. You looked over towards the man and saw that blank expression on his face again, like his mind had wandered somewhere else as he stared at you. “I-umm, I moved away when I was old enough, went to school in London and came back to teach here.”

No response. The silence was quite deafening, but the awkwardness had begun to fade when he took his eyes off you, choosing to stare out the window instead, leaning his head back on the headrest. The feeling of friendly company returned as your grip on the steering wheel loosened. You didn’t mind the silence, for some reason, it felt soothing with him sitting beside you and you didn’t even know the man’s name.

“You chose to work here?” His delayed reaction took you a bit by surprise, but you found it rather warming. There was something about him, something about your dynamic with him you couldn’t quite get your finger on. All you knew was that you needed to find out more. You needed to find out more about him and why you felt such a connection to him.

“I wanted to make a difference,” you shrugged in response, feeling as though your story wasn’t interesting enough to go into. You arrived at his home a few minutes later, spending the rest of the car ride accompanied by the man in black and the settling silence that surrounds you. Turning off the engine, you undid your seatbelt, hearing the sound of his own coming undone. Quickly opening the door, you ran over to help him out of the car, the man already stepping out, trying to get to the door on his own but his body was still so weak, still so fragile.

“Do you need-”

“No-” He’d rejected your help before you could even offer it, trying and failing to get to his porch by himself. Neither of you said a word as you helped him up to his door, carefully letting him go, watching as he reached inside his pocket to fish out his keys.

“I-I can take it from here,” he said as he went to unlock his door. You stood there like a rejected puppy wanting to come home but the man had barely opened the door enough for him to slip through, leaving you on the other side of the door.

“My-my name is (Y/N), I-I realized I never introduced myself,” you said quickly before he could close the door on you. You didn’t want to leave him, whether it was because of the infinite amount of questions floating around in your head or simply to make sure he would survive the night you didn’t care. All you knew was that you couldn’t leave him, this wasn’t the end of your interaction with him. He wasn’t going to close the door never to be seen by you again.

“I- umm-” The man had frozen when you spoke, the door neither open nor closed and for a second you thought perhaps he’d obliged to you offering your company. “Thank you for your help.”

His words rung in your ears, his tone stuck in your mind as you watched his cloaked self disappear behind the door. He was gone, but your worry for him remained. You heard the sound of the lock clicking into place, followed by a loud thump. You stepped forward, placing one hand on the door, the other balled into a fist, your knuckles pressed against the etched wood, ready to request entrance. But it was your heart that pounded instead, begging him to open the door, to let you know he would be okay.

You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were tired of being pushed away and you were afraid of what might happen if he put any more effort into rejecting your help. Afraid you may do more harm than good, you slowly took a step back, trying your best to let go of that compulsive need to care for others until you found yourself back in your car.

Looking back at the house, you examined each window, trying to find any sign of life, anything to let you know he hadn’t dropped dead the second he locked the door. The house looked back at you offering you nothing but more questions. The place looked like it was uninhabited for years. Like the owners had decided one day the house wasn’t worth caring for, that it was a waste of space and that abandonment was the only solution.

Against instinct, you put your keys in the ignition and turned on the car engine. A small sigh escaped your lips as you put the car into first gear, slowly pressing down on the accelerator to drive away. Your eyes shifted between the road and your rear-view mirror, your mind still hoping the house would come alive but you were given no such luck.

Sleep didn’t find you that night. Your mind instead continued to replay the events of that evening over and over again. The more you thought about it, the worse you felt about leaving him there. More than once you contemplated driving back over there if not to simply observe him from afar like you had this past week at the school.

The sun finally rose, and you immediately jumped up to shower and make yourself a cup of coffee. You made your way to the only supermarket you knew would be open this early in the morning and went shopping for a few items before hurrying back to your car and making your way to the man in black on Spinner’s End. You once again found yourself frozen in place, staring at the forgotten house, waiting for it to come alive. Nothing had changed from last night, not one single movement was found through the windows that remained shut. The house was locking what it held away from the rest of the world, never to be seen by anyone or anything.

Despite its uninviting vitality, you still pushed open your car door, locking it as you gripped the paper bag in your hand tightly. Your heartbeat grew heavier with every step you took towards the house until you felt it stop the second you found yourself in front of the door. Once again, your knuckles were pressed against the wood, waiting for your queue to rap. Your heart settled in your chest, quiet in anticipation as it approved your request and let you knock on the door four times. Knock, knock, knock, knock.

No response. You could feel the protest in your chest, the ache from the silence of the morning but you made no motion to walk away. Instead, you tried again: knock, knock, knock, knock.

Was it you? Had he seen you from the window, identified your car and decided you weren’t worth opening the door for? Or had you made the grave mistake of leaving him to his injuries last night? You were no longer concerned with knowing the man, of having your questions answered, you needed to know he was alright, that you hadn’t killed a man by fulfilling his request of being left alone.

Knock, knock, knock-

The door opened and your mind drew blank. Staring back were the same black eyes you’d spent all night thinking about, his expression blank once more, his hair the same stringy black streaks, his cloak removed to show his lanky body.

“It’s (Y/N). From-from last night,” you croaked out, your throat suddenly dry. His face softened when you spoke, the door opening just a little wider. “I just wanted to see how you were doing and give you this.”’

You showed him the bag in your hand, but his eyes kept lingering on yours. He stared at you, into your soul, reading your empty mind, flipping through your emotions like a book, or at least, that’s how it felt. His stare wasn’t one you’d ever seen before. He looked at you like you were a puzzle to be solved, a mystery to be discovered. Like he was seeking for something he could never really find. Your thoughts were interrupted by his gaze shifting down to your hands, his face giving away nothing but more questions.

“It’s not much. A few home remedies, some tea and a first aid kit,” you tried to answer whatever questions were lingering in his own mind, hoping he would return the favour as you took a closer look at the man. He looked perfectly healthy, not a single sign of injury, like yesterday never happened. The way he looked at you now like he was shuffling the puzzle pieces in frustration, unable to figure you out. You began to wonder if you’d indeed hallucinated the entire evening and we're intruding on the home of a complete stranger.

“Why would you give me this?” he asked.

“You were hurt yesterday, or so it seemed. And I-I just thought since you didn’t want to go to the hospital you could use something to help you recover.” You tried to explain, to justify your presence not just to him but to yourself. Of course, you hadn’t spoken the whole truth, leaving out the fact you felt drawn to him, that you wanted to figure him out, listen to his story. But it didn’t matter as it seemed your words had eased him enough to open the door for you.

“Would-would you like some tea?” His offer took you back. He’d been so cold yesterday, his immediate reaction when he first met you to push you away and now here he was, inviting you in for tea. It was now your turn to stare into his eyes, frozen in the moment. Loneliness and despair stared back at you. You felt bad for the man as he started to open himself to you, his expression finally displaying a hint of his emotions. With a smile, you took a step inside, watching as he closed the door behind you, gesturing for you to take a seat on the old and forgotten couch.

“Why are you so insistent on helping me?” he asked as you placed the bag on the table in front of you, the man taking a seat on the armchair adjacent to you. He was trying to solve you again, his eyes narrow, his hands folded in front of his chin.

“I-I don’t know really. I’ve seen you around the school before and when I saw you weren’t moving yesterday, I thought something horrible had happened.” you said, finding his glare rather intimidating. You sank back in your seat, your back hitting the couch as you placed your hands on your lap. “I just wanted to help.”

He looked away from you, his hands falling onto the armrests. His defences had fallen once more, your words somehow assuring him of your intentions. He believed you and you weren’t sure why.

“Thank you,” he said, speaking to his lap more so than to you. His reluctance to accept help was rather astounding. He seemed hurt somehow, as if showing his gratitude to you would be to show weakness, to admit he was human. “I haven’t… It’s-it’s been a while since anyone has shown me kindness.”

You looked at him in surprise. Yes, the people didn’t take kindly to those living in this part of the town but surely he didn’t mean what he said. “That’s an awfully sad thing to say.”

You spoke softly, feeling rather nervous, not wanting to offend the man in any way. He however didn’t seem to care much for your thoughts, his eyes meeting yours once again.

“Perhaps,” he said simply, letting the silence settle in as you both sat there, wondering about each other.

“Have you lived here long?” You’d shifted through your many questions, trying to pick the best to ask without sounding horribly eerie.

“I grew up here,” he said, indulging you in the small talk you’d requested, but his answer only kept you guessing, feeling rather excited as you began to wonder if the name ‘Sev’ from the tree back at the school belonged to him or someone he knew. “And like you, I’ve recently returned.”

“And you chose to return here?” You giggled, referencing the comment he’d made last night about your job choice. The man smiled in response, a singular chuckle puffing out his chest. Your own grin grew, his elated expression contagious. He looked rather sweet in this moment, the harshness of his defensive nature gone, the sadness in his eyes replaced with temporary joy, his smile softening his features. You felt like you could speak with him all day in that moment, but it was gone all too soon, his smile fading along with your own as his anguish returned.

“I needed a reminder.” he said, his eyes fixed on his lap, his hair falling in front of his face, the curtains closing on that brief moment of bliss you’d found with him.

“A reminder?” You asked hesitantly. Silence fell once again and you felt the air thicken, the room around you somehow darker than before. The man slowed his breathing as he stared blankly into his lap, keeping his face hidden behind his curtain of hair.

“I’ve recently lost someone.” His voice was as low as his posture, his shoulders hunched defensively as if he wasn’t worthy of receiving comfort for his loss.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said simply, knowing nothing you could say would help ease his mind from whatever pain he felt. You sat there a while, waiting patiently for him to collect himself, the curtains opening not long after, a look of wonder and empathy meeting you. You happily eased into a different subject, speaking of your time as a teacher, hoping he would bring up the story behind the engraving on the tree but it was clear whatever memory attached to that story was too painful to hash up right now. You still indulged him in some small talk until you realized it was time to head to work.

“I’m sorry. I invited you in for tea and neglected to make you any,” the man looked guilty, liked he’d offended you in some way but you simply smiled, preferring the conversation you’d had over awkwardly sipping tea anyways.

“That’s alright,” you chuckled. Turning around, you faced him as he opened the front door. Taking a small step forward, you felt the heat rise to your face as you tried to summon up any courage you had left. “Perhaps you could make it up to me this evening?”

You could hear nothing but your heart beating, waiting for his answer, fear that you overstepped bubbling up in your mind. But you waited patiently and watched that blank expression of his soften, hope staring back at you as he nodded in agreement. Your smile returned to your face as you told him you’d be by tonight after work. As you stepped out of the house, the man spoke, turning your attention back to him one last time.

“My name is Severus.” Sev. “Severus Snape.”

Your mind was wiped clean, replaced with an abundance of new questions, Who’s Lily? Was she the one he’d lost? Is she the reason he’d hung around your school this past week? Is she the reason you’d met this mysterious man?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Severus Snape.” Your smile stretched from ear to ear and you felt a spark of joy ignite in your chest, one you thought would never return since you’d come back to Cokeworth. Extending out your hand to him, you felt his thin, ice cold fingertips graze your palm as he captured it. You walked back to your car and Severus Snape, the man in black, kept his door open as he watched you buckle in. He was too far to read his face yet not far enough to know how he felt; serene, rejuvenated, content. For the first time in a long time, you were happy to go to work, looking forward to the day as you were sure he must have felt. For the first time in a long time, you’d pushed aside your worries and focussed on the present. You’d found yourself again and all it took was a simple conversation with a mysterious stranger.

@raven-hopeflyte @sleepysnapesnake @wanderingtrails @darkthought15 @bush-viper-cutie @fluffymadamina @dracos-mudblood @mitchiesdungeon @severuslovebot

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

Fools Rush In

Part 6

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles prompt 55: This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course, I’m in.

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley

A/N: Thank you to my amazing bestie @burnsoslow who beta read at 2 am last night. And my prereaders @charlotteg234 and @mom2000aggie

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunk night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained.

**MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC lives in Las Vegas.

Word Count: 1740

TW: Drug usage mentioned

Permanent Tags: @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @pedudley @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @desireepow-1986 @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @blueaster-blog1 @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @twinkleallnight @annekebbphotography @txemrn @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty

Series: @princessleac1 @cordonia-continued @sanchita012 @shz256 @cordonia-gothqueen @narrytheworld @graceful-leah @mom2000aggie @queenwalton @tinkie1973 @muchkoolermk @captain-kingliamsqueen @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess @cinnamonspongecake @loudbluebirdlover @liamandneca @waywardromancefantasygirl @thegreentwin @walker7519

The limo pulled out of the Taco Bell parking lot onto Tropicana Avenue, headed west towards Spring Valley. In the back was one king, a former prince, and a teacher-turned-overnight-queen of a country she'd never heard of 24 hours ago.

While the trio cruised down the bustling thoroughfare to retrieve some of Riley's belongings, Liam was on the phone with his credit card company. He was trying to figure out why his unlimited card was declined, leaving Riley to foot the bill for Leo's Nacho's Grande Box, a Triplelupa Box with extra lupa, and a Pineapple Freeze.

Leo gulped as he scooped melted cheese and beef up with a tortilla, trying not to look too guilty. He didn't want his younger brother to know that he and Drake paid for the entire bachelor trip using Liam's card ... among other unusual expenses. However, he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Drake had it last, and the blame could fall squarely on his shoulders.

Frustrated, Liam hung up the phone after the automated agent couldn't understand his Cordonian accent and continued to reroute his call back to the beginning. No sooner did he put his phone away than he was alerted to an incoming call. Liam glanced down to see his stepmother's name flashing boldly with each ring. There were no doubts in his mind what she wanted. Obviously, the news had reached her at the Palace.

With an anxious feeling growing in his stomach, Liam let out a heavy groan before tapping the screen.

"Hello, Regina."

"Hello, dear." Her greeting was surprisingly warm and pleasant. "I need to know the truth; are these rumors accurate? Did your brother marry you to some strange woman?"

Liam rubbed a hand nervously across his mouth; he was in no mood for a lecture. "He did. But I don't even remember it happening."

He could hear her disappointed sigh and felt terrible that his actions caused her this much distress. Regina might not be his mother, but she had been an integral part of his life since childhood, and he didn't want to let her down.

"Is your brother with you? If so, I would appreciate speaking with him."

Liam shot a look at Leo, whose hands were covered in melty cheese and sour cream. "Uh, yeah, hang on. Let me put you on speaker." He hit the button and whispered loudly to his brother that it was Regina for him.

A broad grin appeared on Leo's face as he swallowed the last bite of food. "What's up, Mommio?"

"Leonardo Wolfschitz Rys!" Her once-gentle tone was now brittle. "I am highly disappointed in you."

His eyes widened in confusion, the grin he had on before fading instantly. "What? Why? It was Liam's idea."

"Perhaps, but did you try to stop him?"

"No. He's 27 years old," he squealed.

"Be that as it may, you're the older brother. You're supposed to know better."

Liam snorted. "That's true, Leo. You really should start setting a better example for me."

Leo narrowed his eyes, reached across Riley, who jerked back, and punched Liam in the groin, causing him to yelp. "You're such a tattletale; you got me in trouble! She was all I had left."

Liam rolled his eyes then reassured his stepmother he would meet with her when the plane landed back in Cordonia in the morning.

Staying quiet, Riley's wide-eyed stare remained fixed to the front of the limo, hands crossed in her lap. This ... this is my new family.

They made their way to Riley's townhome located within a tree-lined community scattered with homes similar to hers.

While Riley took the shower she’d been desperate to get since waking that morning, Liam made himself at home just as she asked him to. Leo had met Old Man Burt -- Riley's elderly neighbor -- as they walked up the driveway. He begged the man to let him whittle sticks with him. The senior man thoughtfully looked at him before spitting out chewing tobacco and instructing Leo to score him a dime bag, and it would be a deal.

Leo didn’t know the man from a hole in the wall, but replied, “You know what, Burt? This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course, I’m in.”

Leo knew just the place and took off.

The neighborhood was quiet and serene; as Liam drummed his fingers on the leather sofa's armrest, he could almost envision a life of simplicity like this. He closed his eyes to take in all the sounds and scents not entirely unfamiliar to him but things he imagined most people took for granted:birds chirping in the windowsill, the occasional car that passed by, the screech of bicycle brakes, apple cinnamon air fresheners, and another scent he hadn't smelled in years. Craning his neck around to look out the window, he saw Leo smoking pot with the white-haired man dressed in denim overalls in the front yard. "What the hell? Dumbass."

Riley's shower took longer than he expected; feeling antsy, he rose from the sofa and walked through the home, trying to get a sense of who she was. The house was well maintained with brightly colored artwork on the walls, a nicely stocked bookshelf, shiny hardwood floors, and metal-framed photographs of different sizes assembled atop the fireplace mantle.

Liam's eyes danced from photo to photo, studying Riley's images in a graduation gown posing with a small grinning brunette about Riley's age, her with two older gentlemen hugging in front of a Christmas tree, and a classroom of smiling kids holding up colorful drawings.

There was one frame that laid face down.

Thinking perhaps it fell over, he gently lifted the frame to put it back in place. His brows lifted in shock.

"She's married?"

"I was," Riley answered.

Liam whipped around with the photograph still gripped in hand, not sure what else to say. It wasn't like it was some deep, dark secret hidden from him, something that should upset him. She more than likely would have mentioned it to him at some point, considering they still hadn't had time to get to know each other. But he couldn’t shake the jealousy he felt.

"I'm sorry. I was just looking at your pictures and thought this one had been knocked over." He carefully placed it back on the mantle as Riley approached him.

Liam watched the hurt etch across her delicate features, and eyes that reflected a shattering pain as she stood face to face with her image in a flowy white gown wrapped in the arms of a man she admitted to being married to at one time.

"I … met him in my senior year of high school. We dated all through college. Had this big elaborate dream wedding after graduation. He was my best friend, my lover -- I thought he would be it forever ..."

Liam gripped her shoulder when she paused to catch a breath, noticing the slight break in her voice. "After two years, he no longer wanted to do anything together. His excuses were always the same: working late, too tired, ‘just want to hang out with the guys tonight.’ He stopped talking to me. Quit looking at me. Stopped touching me. I think I knew in my heart what was going on, but didn't want to believe it. Then one day … I came home from work, and his closet was empty." She let out a humorless laugh. "But at least he left a strongly-worded letter detailing all my faults and where I failed him. It said he found someone better and that I didn't make him happy. He just ... didn't want me anymore." Those last words came out in whimper.

"Riley." Liam wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. "Sweetheart, that wasn't your fault."

Riley stepped back and swiped the tears from her cheeks. "That's why I'm doing this, Liam."

"What d’ya mean?."

"When I met Madeleine, I just knew I couldn't let you marry someone who would make you miserable too. You deserve to find someone who will make you happy."

He smiled at her. "What if that's you, Riley?"

She stood motionless for a moment, thinking about that question, then shook her head and muttered, "I don't make people happy, Liam. In the end ... they always leave me."

When Riley turned to walk away, Liam caught her wrist and drew her back. His hands flew to both sides of her face, cupping along her jaw. Their eyes studied each other; those compassionate blues cast a spell on her teary browns, engulfing the warm air surrounding both of them in want and desire.

"I can't do this," she rasped weakly and lowered her face away from him.

Liam tilted her chin, his voice desperate and pleading. "Look at me, Riley. You can. You can. You just have to let me in."

Without a second more of hesitation, their lips collided into each other passionately.

--------------------------

Drake scowled at the envelope in his hand that bore his name in large letters. "What do you mean, I've been served? I ain't been served shit."

The smaller man prepared to explain, but the intimidating glare in Drake's eyes made him choose his words more carefully. "Mr. Walker. Sir. I'm just the messenger --"

"Then, you can take your message and ..." Drake shoved the envelope toward the man. "This fucking envelope back to where you came from. I don't have a kid or owe anyone child support."

The man backed away and looked at Maxwell to gauge whether he would protect him from his rather large, angry friend. He figured out real quickly the lanky one holding two full bags of medications most definitely wouldn't. He swallowed past the fear that collected in his throat. "Everything you need to know is in the envelope." He nodded to them, both. "Have a good day."

Drake slammed the door open and tossed the room key and his wallet on the kitchen counter. He ripped the envelope open and scanned the documents with Maxwell looking over his shoulder. "I'm being sued for $120,000 in back child support by a woman named ... Boom Boom Powell."

A picture slid from the documents and landed at Maxwell's feet. He bent down to pick it up and rose slowly when he caught a glimpse. "Uh, Drake. This must be a picture of the kids." He held the photograph up of what appeared to be three-year-old identical triplets. "Who do these kids look like?" He knew the answer before he asked.

Drake squinted to get a better look; then realization hit him. He had never been to Las Vegas, but he knew someone who had many times before. And judging by the blonde hair, blue eyes, and mischievous smirks on the three little boys in the picture, he knew his assumption was correct. He tightened his jaw. "That fucker! He is dead."

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