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shaykesqueer · 6 months

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O Rose, Thou Art Sick

Chapter Six: Advice is a Terrible Gift

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Summary: After that sour encounter, Fox needs to blow off some steam. Luckily, Terzo is here to bitch the blues away.

Word Count: 7.9k

Content Warnings: 18+. Some angst, mentions of death, implied character death, mention of mirror sex, smutty conversation, mentions of orgies, hangovers, reference to masturbation

Notes: Terzo is really sad in this chapter. He hasn’t been Papa for a long time and being murdered really sucks the zest out of life. We know this, but Fox doesn’t. Terzo reveals his hate for Copia in this chapter, which is for plot reasons. There is also a brief Terzo x Omega reference. Namesake for this chapter is a quote from The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

Fox was surprised at just how quiet the Ministry was in the middle of the night. It had been late when they’d first arrived, but they had yet to leave the confines of their room at any time past one in the morning. Technically, Fox had awoken in both the middle of the night and the early morning to stick their head out of the window for a cigarette, but they didn’t quite count that. They weren’t sure of the exact time now, but the high moon was the only source of light. As Fox wandered down hallway after hallway, it felt as if they were the only person left alive in this place. Everything was still and beads of shimmering powders hung in the air like little spiders. Fox wasn’t scared. In fact, this was quite possibly where they felt the most comfortable, besides from out in the gardens. They liked the feeling of the cold tile on their bare soles, liked that they couldn’t quite make out what was at the end of the hallways when there were no windows to illuminate the path. Every so often, they caught a glint of something in the corner of their eye that turned into the reflection on a pane of red stained glass or the shining of some elaborate icon. For all the frights that Fox had received here so far, there was a peculiar feeling of solace. Fox chalked it up to how beautifully quiet it was.

It was their first time in the chapel, the one on the northern side of the building. The door had been heavy and groaned low like a yawn. The ceilings were not so high in here and it made the chamber feel almost cosy. That certainly wasn’t the right word for it- everything was polished dark and concealed by shadowy alcoves, the only windows sitting high like skylights and letting in only the moonlight so everything looked as if it was filtered through black and white. Fox imagined that during the day, there would be candelabras along the pews and everything would take on a warm glow. Tucked into the corner of the chamber was a pointed structure, like a gothic photo booth. Fox thought that it must have been a confessional and quickly pondered how that would even work around here. What was there to confess? Of course, there was an order to the place and so it followed there would have to be rules, but how could one even sin here? Fox had once been a part of druidic commune in which any and all items of clothing had been strictly banned- even tying your hair up had been seen as a serious transgression. Fox wondered if that was the sort of thing someone could confess to here.

Please forgive me, I haven’t lain with another in a fortnight and I am so bare of pride, I removed the mirror on my bedroom ceiling.

Fox laughed under their breath. This had been the goal, after all. To wander around and burn off some of their unwanted bitterness caused by none other than the world’s first instance of slime that had learnt to walk on two legs- Copia. The primary thought that had occupied Fox’s brain for the rest of that afternoon and late into the night was, of course, who does he think he is? After the incident, it had taken them several minutes of seething and huffing before they could even think to clean up those broken pots. And that had only reminded them of Copia’s gormless face and they were right back to pacing and grumbling. A few broken pieces of terracotta had become even smaller pieces of terracotta under Fox’s boot. Eventually, they had been able to collect themself long enough to clean up the mess before any passing Siblings or Clergy members were unfortunate enough to have a planter piece pierce their shoe and remove a toe. Fox was beyond mortified that Copia had poisoned their brain so much that they had found it so difficult to just do their job.

Earlier in the day, Fox had noticed that a number of plants in the Abbey garden had looked particularly unhealthy. They could give credit where credit was due- someone must have been taking care of the Siblings’ garden, however leisurely. It wasn’t like the sunflowers in the greenhouse, but Fox would give an A for effort. Not only had there been evidence of consistent watering, but in between the paving stones was wild Chamomile (most likely harvested from Primo’s garden). It truly was a wonderful space filler for smaller gardens like that one, and whether intentionally or not, someone must have enjoyed strolling Primo’s garden enough that they’d brought the souvenir back with them. Intentionally or not, Fox had respected that. The main plants in need of salvaging were, firstly, the campanulas sitting in boxes against the Abbey wall and underneath a set of windows. They had been dangerously under-watered, with the soil cracking and its leaves drooping sadly. But with summer around the corner they would be blooming again once Fox could dig them out and find them a home in a more suitable planter. The only other concerns were the foxglove and maidenhair fern, neither of which thrived in the direct sun. Why they had been planted in a shadeless garden, so plainly out in the open, and in the smallest of plant pots, Fox had no idea. But it would just be a matter of repositioning them or finding a choice spot along one of the trails, and they would start to come alive again.

At least this had been what Fox had been planning before all of the available pots they’d found in the greenhouse had been destroyed by that meathead. And he had had the cheek to threaten them.

With their keys hanging heavy on their belt, Fox reasoned that in a place so huge, the Ministry must have at least one storage room on the grounds. And it couldn’t hurt to be away from the general population while they were in such a foul mood. The search had started quite well- Fox had found three general storage rooms, six cabinets, a cloakroom, and two fully equipped music rooms. On the first floor. They’d sifted through clouds of chemical vapour to find bleach and bottles and mops, pushed aside heavy winter coats, found stacks and stacks of papers in clear plastic folders, and opened so many creaky doors, they were beginning to revulse at the sound of it. The only real things of note they’d found was an old grand piano stuck under a sheet that billowed dust when Fox merely touched it, and the fact that one of their keys unlocked a door to a musty old wine cellar. Fox had bravely managed to scour both the second floor and part of the third before they became so frustrated with their lack of progress, they stormed back into the garden and inhaled half a pouch of tobacco. To add insult to injury, Fox found themself unable to shake the frustration long into the night. They’d paced the length of their rooms who knew how many times, had sat on every surface, and they could not stop moving or nail-biting or fidgeting. They had downed an entire glass of wine before falling down onto the bed, which was quickly abandoned. They downed another before trying out the bathtub again and another before deciding they just could not sleep. That damn man. That damn man.

The thought of him spitting his words down at Fox, scowl so very ugly and spiteful, kept circling back into their head. No one had ever looked at Fox the way he had, and it wasn’t just because his eyes had been so piercing. It was the malice in them. It rose from him in fumes and Fox felt sick having been so close to it, having been infected by it. Copia had acted like he knew something about Fox, knew every intimate detail and had been staring so deep into them that they’d felt stripped naked. And what did he do with that? Scorn them. Threaten them. He was so venomous that Fox knew that if they had the absolute displeasure of seeing him again, they might very well have a stroke and die. Just as no one had ever looked at them like that, Fox had never felt hate like this. Had never felt it settle so fiercely into their bones that it made their head spin. Fox reasoned that could have been the wine at this point, but they were still angry.

They had been, at least. Until now. Having left the chapel some time ago to make their way down the winding halls to the cathedral, Fox found it difficult to feel even an ounce of resentment whilst looking at the marvel before them. This was their first time setting foot in the cathedral also and they were surprised at how glorious it really was. The room was punctuated with a radiant dias over a set of wide stairs, marbled with reds and yellows and embossed with swirling, florid patterns. An obscenely large, circular window stood above it. There had been other stained glass decorating the entire Ministry and all of it had been undoubtedly nice to look at, but this was something else. Streaks of pale blue fell through the glass, stretching over the floor like fingers whittled to the bone, reaching out for Fox. Embedded was the likeness of a horned goat that must have spanned at least seven foot across the glass, and it harboured two distinct yellow eyes on the high end of it. Fox thought that they should feel intimidated. They didn’t not feel that way, but it wasn’t in an ‘oh fuck, I’m looking at the devil’ kind of way. It was awe and it was dread balanced and swelling within them, standing on the edge of nothing and forever, watching the sky and the edge of the sea fuse into one. Fox was being watched, being weighed, but they didn’t feel haunted. They just felt… seen. Like they’d just come into existence.

“It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it,” came a voice beside them. Fox turned, surprised to see Terzo standing in the coloured light. He had managed to walk up behind them without them noticing at all, and they wondered whether it was because they had been so enamoured by the window or because Terzo was so light on his feet. Fox also didn’t flinch at his appearance. In fact, his presence felt surprisingly comfortable.

“Very,” Fox said. “I don’t usually stay in places so… divine, I guess is the word.” They turned to look back at the window. Divine.

“I suppose it would be.”

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Fox asked.

“I don’t sleep,” he replied.

Fox looked back at Terzo and his eyes were planted firmly on the glass. Sad wasn’t the word to describe him, but it definitely wasn’t serene either. He looked so implausibly pale, his one white eye visible from the direction he was standing, and Fox realised he could have been a living statue. Or a corpse. “I don’t think I would either, if I could help it.”

“Bad dreams?” Terzo cocked his head toward Fox, but he kept his eyes downturned.

“Sometimes.”

“I do so miss my dreams,” he said. “Even the bad ones.”

Fox opened their mouth but quickly closed it again. They wanted to say something, but were suddenly unsure of themself. Terzo’s voice was only a whisper, only a breath, and Fox could feel an ache radiating from him. After a few steps, Fox smoothed a flat palm across the altar in front of them. It was cold and it was clean and Fox wondered about the countless echoes of sermons and possible sacrifices that had soaked into it. They did not envy whoever had to clean it, but they had certainly done a good job. They turned and sat back on the surface, looking into their lap, rolling the bottle of wine over in their hands. It had all but begged to be brought along on this excursion and Fox had only taken a couple of passing sips so far, so it laid heavy in their palms. “Who was it?”

“I beg your pardon?” Terzo said. If Fox had been watching, he would have finally met their eyes. They could feel the gaze on them, though. Not heated, just on them. Comfortable.

“You sound like you miss someone,” they returned sheepishly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be, uh, inappropriate, I-”

“Someone important.”

There it was. Fox looked at Terzo and could all at once really see the lines of his face and the circles under his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Such is life,” Terzo shrugged nonchalantly, but it wasn’t a very convincing performance. “Such is death.” The room was quiet for several moments, unspoken words hanging in the air like dust.

“A toast?” Fox said after a beat, holding up their bottle. They could finally make sense of that light, or lack thereof, behind Terzo’s eyes. He was tired, he looked so tired, like every day was dragging on an eternity. Like it was taking every ounce of effort to move even one muscle in his body. For how exhausting it must have been, Fox thought he was holding it together very gracefully. “Or am I pushing it?”

The corners of Terzo’s lips arched into a smile. There didn’t seem to be any malice. No spite or sarcasm. It was pleasant. The drawn weariness of his features seemed less so when he smiled like that. “A toast. To lost love,” he said.

Fox offered the bottle to him first in a show of respect, watching him take a generous sip and following it with an approving hum. Fox did the same when he passed it back and they considered the bottle for a while, fingernails scraping on the underside of its label. The glue was tacky and yellowed, stringy between Fox’s fingers when they pulled at it. “You’re kind of a downer, you know,” they said after a short sniff.

Terzo laughed. A short laugh, just shy of a straight ‘ha! ’, but a laugh nonetheless. “You’re the one who brought wine. It’s a good thing I showed up.” He took in a breath and then geared into a stride, taking a seat beside Fox on the altar bed. “You weren’t planning on drinking the whole bottle yourself, were you?”

Fox shrugged. “I get bored.”

“Where did you get it?” Terzo held his hand out for the bottle but gave it back after turning it over only once.

“Kitchen,” said Fox.

“Lies- they don’t keep bottles like that ” -Terzo pressed a pointed finger into Fox’s knee- “in there. Not since that Sibling rager a few years ago. There was a lot of broken glass.”

“Wine cellar then.” Fox shooed away Terzo’s hand animatedly before taking another swig of the drink as if to emphasise the point. “Everything was covered in cobwebs!”

Terzo responded by sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth and falling into a series of shallow tuts. He was pursing his lips in mock-disappointment and Fox felt even less of that wear and fatigue than when he had just smiled. Sarcastic dope, they thought, quite admirably. “I’d replace that if I were you.”

“What do you think I am, an amateur?” In their state of wine-fuelled buzz, Fox took it upon themself to bump Terzo’s shoulder with their own. He rocked lazily and Fox could tell he was rolling his eyes without even looking. They didn’t worry about having been too overly familiar, however, as they’d already pushed his buttons the first time they’d met and gotten the horns for it. If the act had bothered him, he most likely would’ve elbowed Fox in the nose. “I’ll fill the bottle with juice.”

“I think someone might notice that eventually.”

“Nah- I’ll be long gone before that happens.” Fox took another long drink, killing off any opportunity to think about that for any longer than it took to leave their lips.

“Has your first week been so rough, Volpelino ? That you had to break into the cellar?” Terzo said. Fox was glad he hadn’t pressed any further, or given them the third degree, which would have been far worse. On the bright side, that nickname was certainly growing on them- the way Terzo said it was so utterly charming and dear that Fox would certainly find themself disappointed if he didn’t use it from then on.

“I didn’t break in, I had a key. If I wasn’t supposed to go in, why would I have the key? Besides” -Fox offered the bottle to Terzo, who took it with a smile that had a thank you written all over it- “I’ve had worse first weeks.”

“The Ghouls did not maim you then?” Terzo tipped the bottle back and drank down a few mouthfuls. Considering the horrid excuse for spirits the man had kept in his office, Fox wasn’t sure that was a good sign for them.

“No, but they scared the shit out of me.”

“They will certainly do that.”

“They showed me some of the gardens,” Fox said. “That was nice.”

“Mountain?” Terzo replied, which surprised Fox. The way he had vilified the Ghouls the other day had made them think that he would have nothing to do with them, let alone know at least one of them by name. The way he spoke now sounded as if he was keeping something back, trying to keep his voice steady and low, and doing a good job of it.

“The big guy?” Fox said. “He asked after you too.”

“Feh!” Terzo grunted, kicking a leg out.

“Feh?” Fox mocked. “Don’t ‘feh !’ me.” They took the bottle back with haste, earning a tart stare from Terzo. They leaned away to take their own generous gulps, holding eye contact with their companion as if to somehow scare him. It may have been the warmth of the alcohol making Fox think they would be able to achieve such a feat when they knew for a fact how frightening the man could make himself look. Or perhaps it was the overcoming comfort the longer the two spent together.

Terzo looked away first. “I have no interest.”

“Lies,” Fox mimicked the way Terzo had said before, lowering their voice and putting on his honeyed accent.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Terzo. Fox was not drunk enough to miss his curtness or the way his words danced on the edge of straining, threatening to form into a yell. Fox was not drunk enough to miss the way he softened either. “We-” Terzo bit his tongue. “He’s not the same as he once was. I am… not the same as I once was.”

“It happens.” Fox was drunk enough to put their hand on Terzo’s knee and even gave it a friendly squeeze. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Ah, but I do so love to!” Terzo smiled and Fox felt a swell of pride.

“Cheers to that,” Fox said and tipped the bottle to Terzo, who gestured in turn with a flail of his wrist. The two of them passed that bottle back and forth until it was very much empty and rested on the flat of the altar. Fox leaned back on their elbows, looking up at the ceiling and having a hard time making out the exact direction of the patterns rotating, dark like dragons against the night sky.

“Did you see the cemetery that has gone to shit ?” Terzo said finally. He’d definitely had the larger share of what had been left in the bottle and, while he wasn’t slurring, his voice was heavy, words rolling around his mouth like they were looser than he had been expecting.

“Yeah,” Fox said, turning to look at him. “And that doesn’t cover even half of it. I’ve got my work cut out for me. Speaking of which, I don’t mean to talk business in such wee hours, but can you get me more equipment?”

“What kind of equipment?”

“Oh, I need a trebuchet. Gardening equipment, obviously. Fertiliser, gloves, lots of pots.” Fox held their mouth tight, pushing away the flooding of memories of that afternoon. Damn man and his damn threats.

“I’m sure I can get the right forms to the right people,” Terzo said, leaning forward with hands on his knees. His face turned sour, but not angry. Miserable. Petulant. “That’s all I’m good for these days, it seems.”

Fox shot up straight, or they would have had they not been full of wine. It was more of a gentle push off the altar and then somehow finding themself up in an upright position. “Okay, what is your deal? I’ve never seen anyone mope as much as you.”

“I do not mope,” he said.

“You absolutely do.” Fox began counting on their fingers. “You’re bitter and you’re spiteful- and don’t get me wrong, I love it- but who hurt you, man?”

Behind his lips, Terzo ran his tongue over his teeth. He sniffed and his eyes darted from his hands to the door stretched at the end of the aisle, then back again. Fox began to regret asking, feeling the guilt ache in their chest. But they didn’t dare say anything. Fox didn’t want to think it, but maybe it was because they were being cowardly.

“How long do you stay in one place?” Terzo asked finally, voice breaking into the silence so gently that it took a good long while for it to process in Fox’s head.

“Not long,” they said slowly. “Six months. A year?”

“This has been my home my whole… since I was a boy.” Terzo looked at Fox and they felt the twist of guilt again. Terzo did not look like he was about to cry, in fact he looked rather stoic, but Fox thought about how devastating it would be to see such a face overcome with that much sorrow. “I think perhaps you are luckier than I, to not…” He trailed off, searching for the words.

“Belong?”

“I didn’t mean that,” he said.

“Yes, you did,” Fox asserted. “It’s okay.”

“When you have nothing to lose-”

“I know.” Fox almost put their hand back on Terzo’s knee, but hesitated and ultimately retracted their touch completely. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I understand.”

Terzo didn’t respond, and Fox maybe would have noticed that he didn’t seem at all upset with them had they not pulled back quite so much. They did understand, of course, and they began to even doubt whether they should have indulged in speaking so frankly with Terzo. They liked him. They did. But as he had said, when you have nothing to lose… It was better, or at least easier, to have a clean break. Fox found themself wishing they’d brought two bottles of wine because they felt like downing another right about then. The only noise between them for a moment was Terzo breathing outwardly and Fox’s skin began to itch under the weight of the conversation becoming so unpleasant. They cleared their throat, pushing and pushing it away. “So,” they began, slapping a hand to their thigh as if to sever the dull air. “What’s the situation around here in regards to… fooling around?”

“Fooling around? Are you a school child?”

“I’m trying to be tactful, jerk.” Fox felt the tension leaving their body, relief flooding them, and they leant back again.

“You want to fuck?” Terzo said matter-of-factly.

Fox’s eyebrows shot up and a smirk spread over their face before they could think to suppress it. “Please tell me that wasn’t a come on,” they said.

“I’m offended, caro!” Terzo swung himself around and brought his feet up under himself, crossing his legs. Fox really was relieved, especially seeing Terzo become so animated at the change of pace. ”You’re telling me you don’t want this?” he said as he made a grand, sweeping gesture down his front, his eyes hooded when he looked back at Fox. They pinched their lips together tight and had to bring a hand to their mouth to stifle a gentle laugh. It appeared Terzo was having a hard time keeping his own laugh down.

“You’re very pretty,” Fox said. “But you’re a little sad.”

“I’m sad? You’re wandering around shoeless. That’s not very attractive.”

“It is for some people.” Fox barely got the words out before it was eaten up by a boisterous laugh and while Terzo did not echo the noise, he was grinning wider than Fox had ever seen. “Besides, it’s mysterious.”

“No, it’s not. This is mysterious.” Terzo brought his hands up and over his head, smoothing his hair down. Fox certainly couldn’t take it seriously but Terzo appeared to be amusing himself chewing the proverbial scenery.

“Your whole thing?” Fox gestured loosely. “I don’t know, I’m not into those gloves. And you’re kind of creepy looking.”

“You don’t like the gloves?” Terzo said and brought his hands together. Fox thought he must have been truly admiring them. It was honestly rather sweet, even if it was a jest.

“Not really. Do you take them off?”

“Ever?”

“For sex, dummy.”

“Oh. Sometimes.”

“Sometimes! They don’t get dirty?” Fox asked. Terzo gave them a devilish look, a smirk coiling on his lips. He couldn’t hold it long, however, as an instant later the two of them were back to laughing together. “How often do you do your laundry? Or do you just have multiple pairs of gloves?”

“I have at least six,” Terzo said.

“I bet you iron your socks, don’t you? No-” Fox shifted, trying to lift their knees up to their chest, but it took a few good tries to get their feet off the ground. “You iron your underwear and they’re all white and identical.”

Terzo laughed. “Now we’re talking about my underwear, I think you do like me.” He briefly touched his hand to Fox’s knee, to which Fox swatted at it with a huff.

“I do like you. I like you so much, I don’t want to immediately screw you.”

“Not immediately?” Terzo raised his eyebrows suggestively. Perhaps not bringing that second bottle of wine had been a good call after all. Fox had a lifetime of wooing experience, as well as a lifetime of experience in the following physical activities, and a lifetime of experience of fucking it all up. They couldn’t speak for Terzo, of course, but it seemed it could be traits they two shared and Fox felt no doubt that neither one of them was seriously interested.

“If you put enough of that turps from your office in me, I think I’d fuck anything. So, you’ve got a chance.”

After a stint of silence, Terzo said, “You fit in here quite well, cara.”

“You think?” Fox asked in disbelief.

“You’re a drunk and a whore,” he said and Fox interrupted him with a bark of laughter. “Highly encouraged. Lucifer would be proud.”

Fox folded their legs to one side and pushed their chest out. Terzo opened his mouth to speak but Fox shushed him with a wave, clearing their throat. “ I offer this great sin of the flesh in the name of our Dark Lord. That sort of thing?”

Terzo clapped his hands together. “Very nice.”

“Not my first rodeo.” Fox traced their finger over the clean marble of the altar. Their attention was briefly turned back to the window. A faint orange glow was beginning to seep in through the rippled glass. Did they fit in here? They appreciated that Terzo would say so, even if there was the possibility of him joking, but it swilled in their head when their eyes fixed back onto the transparent yellow counterparts on the window. “What about orgies? I like a good orgy.”

“What’s your record?” Terzo stuck his right leg out straight, craning his neck back as if it ached something fierce. It crunched under the strain and Fox couldn’t help but wince.

“I think… twenty something,” Fox said. “Twenty seven- no, twenty eight.”

“Twenty eight?” repeated Terzo, something like admiration coating his tone.

“Including myself, so.”

“You’re a natural!”

Fox tipped their head as a thank you, rotating their wrist in a flourish. It was one of their prouder achievements, really.

“As far as I’m aware, there are no orgies planned.” Terzo’s hand came to the back of his neck and he stretched again, face twisting in a show of discomfort. It made Fox sit back up, noticing the weariness in their own shoulders, the sting of their eyes against the growing gold of the room. “There are quite a few dances, though. Formal ones.”

“That’s very charming. Do you do anything for Midsummer?” It was certainly one of Fox’s favourite festivities. They thought that maybe it could be their love of the outdoors that made it so- often summer festivals would be held outside late into the evening, when the grass was softest and the flowers sweet and heady. Fox tended to gravitate towards the more nature-oriented groups around this time of year for that reason.

“Summer Solstice. Dance,” Terzo said.

“That could turn into an orgy,” Fox joked. They smiled a lazy smile, but a smile nonetheless. They had needed this, they realised. Most nights thus far had been spent alone in their rooms and there was only so much they could pace and read and smoke. It had crossed their mind to wander outside, but they still had their reservations concerning Swiss and Dew playing tricks on them. After the day they’d had, they were more not in the mood than usual. Fox stifled a yawn behind their hand, for the first time noticing how uncomfortable the altar was beneath them.

“I think perhaps you should return to your bed,” said Terzo, guiding his hand to Fox’s back and gently encouraging them to scoot to their feet. “The sun is coming up.”

Fox nodded, suddenly craving the heavy weight of their duvet on top of them. They swayed as they stood and blinked hard, trying to force their eyes to focus and turn the golden smears of the room back into real objects. They would be grateful as soon as their head was on their pillow and they felt giddy with relief that they would finally be able to sleep. Fox held both hands to the bannister as they descended the stairs, still not so drunk that they didn’t think they could survive a slip and fall down these marble deathtraps. In the same vein, each row of benches set down the aisle had at least one of Fox’s hand groping at its side when they moved past it.

“Don’t stay up too late, darling,” Fox called back behind them when they reached the door, offering the shortest of waves to their friend.

“Never,” Terzo’s voice came back.

***

Even though Fox had eventually collapsed into bed, they did not wake up in the morning. They got out of bed of course, but instead of waking it had been more akin to rising from the dead. And certainly not in a graceful or angelic sort of way. It was more in the rotting corpse wheelhouse, because that was how they felt. Fox was no stranger to the feeling- the head full of cotton wool, mouth bone-dust dry, beaten down with cinder blocks feeling- and they were entirely grateful that it wasn’t really a hangover. Because they were still drunk. To their surprise and relief, they’d woken up before the morning bell tolled, which had given them the opportunity to find their way to the floor before their head split open. If anyone had seen Fox in such a state, they certainly would have looked down on what a mess they were. They were still wearing their clothes from last night, heavy bags dragging their eyes down. The carpet beneath their hands felt scratchy and the door to the bathroom felt as if it was inching away and away. But Fox knew they were alright. Nothing was swaying. They hadn’t been sick. They only had to stop and lie down on their back once on the journey from the bed to the shower. Small wins.

It wasn’t until the hot water hit their face they were finally able to feel the fog lifting away. Under the steam and the running water and the smell of tangerine in their hair, their thoughts mellowed out. Once they started to feel human again, feeling the comfortable warmth returning to their body, they thought of how nice it might have been to have woken up with someone this morning. Anyone, really. They thought of hands gently caressing their shoulders and then their hips, running through their hair. They could imagine warm breath on the back of their neck- this shower certainly was big enough for two and Fox had yet to take advantage of the fact. Despite the sweet mixture of fruits and flowers of their own soap, the smell of woodsmoke sparked a fire in their head. It was a medley of hot pepper and spices, buttery and rich and heavy, and it was so awfully familiar, right on the edge of their mind. Fox was unsure where they remembered it from. Hands indulged in brushing over their chest, stroking down in the undeniably racy fashion. Fox imagined they could be soft to touch, but strong in grip. Would they be made warm after those dark gloves came off? He would be deceivingly gentle but his hands would come tight around their wrists and-

Fox’s eyes shot open. Gloves? That was certainly a new one. When had that gotten into their head? That scent. That damn scent and it was that damn… Fox all at once scrambled for the shower valve, spinning it all the way in the other direction until the water was shooting out so cold that Fox’s entire body seized up under the razor-edged shivers. Fox couldn’t tell if their brain was running so quickly, they couldn’t make out a single thought, or whether it had just stopped completely. And they were afraid to make a decision- doing so might leave room for other thoughts and they weren’t quite ready to trust themself. They definitely were not ready to confront wherever they had just been wandering. They were tired. Yes, that was it. Very, very, very tired. And drunk! They couldn’t forget drunk. Fox was amused with themself, of course, that they could have forgotten just how long it had been since they’d had sex. And it had been. Quite long. A month, at least. That was it. It was that combined with all that smut-adjacent conversation with Terzo last night, and that was all. The thought that they could have been thinking about someone they hated with all their heart and soul didn’t even cross their mind. They couldn’t even think of his name. Wouldn't. No- no, they couldn’t, even if they had tried- which they definitely did not do.

Fox got out of the shower quicker than they ever had in their whole life.

Fox realised that clean clothes were a commodity they were running dangerously low on. They made a note to find whatever the Ministry kept as a laundry room and they said a silent prayer, hoping they would find actual working washing machines for once. They’d washed their clothes in rivers and buckets far too many times to count. The river was usually nicer and they would take that over some dingy old laundromat any day, but an actual machine and a dryer would be a blessing. Considering the plethora of equipment the kitchens housed, Fox felt good about the prospect. Another thing that made them feel exceedingly good was the Siblings who frequented the kitchens were not above saying a good morning to them now. In fact, they were happy to indulge in a few minutes of somewhat pleasant conversation, which was a welcome change. Especially so considering most of it was with a very pretty Brother. He was tall with long, dark hair and big, dark eyes that followed Fox about the kitchen. It did not go amiss that he didn’t even attempt to look away when Fox bent over to pick up nothing. It never even occurred to them to think about how little he smelt like… He was nice and Fox liked it. But, work. Of course.

“Good morning, my love,” Fox said when they pushed open Terzo’s office door with their hip. They were not surprised by how steady they were getting that door open. It was true, both hands held a quite full paper coffee cup and under one arm was a bag they took great effort to not crush against their body as it contained their breakfast, but they had a lot of practice standing upright on two legs whilst feeling a lot rougher than this. They were sure, however, that if they’d taken the elevator and avoided the stairs, they would be feeling a lot worse.

“Are you still drunk?” Terzo said, pen still in hand when he leant back in his chair.

“A little bit.” Fox shut the door with the heel of their boot. They were taken aback by how composed Terzo looked. Had he looked like that all of last night? Now that Fox had noticed the gloom surrounding him, it was difficult to see his face without it. Nevertheless, his hair was swept back and it was the first time Fox had seen the man without his jacket on. He still wore black, of course, but now donned a dark cotton turtleneck and was bare of his gloves. Fox was glad for it, otherwise he would’ve looked like a mime. “I have breakfast. Do you eat?”

“Yes,” Terzo said.

“Do you want a croissant?”

“Yes,” he said again.

Fox grinned and placed their cups down onto Terzo’s desk. After taking a pastry out of their paper bag, they slid it across the surface to offer to their friend, giving it a gentle pat for good measure. Terzo inspected the bag briefly but didn’t make a move to open it and it made Fox suspicious of his true ability to eat something. They appreciated his gesture either way, it was quite kind. Or he was trying to save face. He did reach out towards one of the coffee cups but then halted and pointed a finger.

“Is that coffee?” he asked wryly.

“What else?” Fox said through a mouthful of croissant, taking their own cup as they did so. Terzo arched his eyebrow under a pointed look. “Oh, I’m not hungover enough for hair of the dog,” Fox scoffed. “It’s espresso.”

Terzo considered the cup for a moment, narrowing his eyes and gesturing out his palms as if he was sizing it up. In fairness, it was a large cup. Fox sighed. “It’s four doubles.”

Terzo didn’t say anything, but that pointed look melted from his face as quickly as it had come on. Fox felt a suspicion rise up in them, feeling quite overlooked at the change of expression. Of course, Fox didn’t want to be insulted, but the fact that Terzo had abandoned any sort of ill inkling worried them. They thought for a moment that maybe their chat last night wasn’t as friendly as Fox had remembered. They thought for a moment that maybe they were being far too overly-familiar and it wasn’t often they felt the sting of rejection so soon and have it come on so suddenly. But, as Terzo took a sip of his coffee, his face twisted into a grimace and his eyes glared in disappointment. “You can insult my taste in spirits all you like, but you are a cheap harlot when it comes to coffee.” Fox felt the tightness in their shoulders fall away immediately, sighing in relief. That was more like it.

“So,” they began, wiping their hands off of crumbs on their pant legs. “I have a list.” Terzo looked up at them over his coffee. He had taken the top of the cup off to inspect the drink inside, his nose wrinkled up to his eyebrows.

“This smells burnt,” he said absently, sitting back in his chair but quickly holding his hands out in an absolute show of dismay when Fox dared to brush crumbs onto his carpet. Fox only shrugged when they reached into their back pocket, fishing around for the paper.

“No pressure,” they assured with a nod, handing the list over after they’d smoothed out its wrinkles. “But I do need these.” Fox was aware that it was a large and specific list, but… well, there was no but. Fox knew what they needed and they knew what they wanted. When it came to gardening, at least. Terzo brushed the paper with the flat of his palm and re-smoothed it, quite arrogantly, and read it over several times.

“This seems excessive,” he said, turning his eyes up toward Fox. The list was mostly comprised of soils and fertilisers and PH testing kits; Fox had certain plans for nearly every garden on the grounds and they were determined to see them through. Of course they would need bulbs and seeds and starters, but they were patient. Or patient enough. The most prominent item on the list was firstly their planters. And lots of them. They were listed in size, colour, material- the specifics listed took up more space on the paper than the actual items. And this was Fox trying to be somewhat conservative. There was an even longer list in Fox’s other pocket detailing every piece of equipment they were planning to scrounge up themself with items found around the Ministry.

“It’s not,” Fox said before a sip of coffee. “Look, I can try and make do on the soil, but I need these planters.” They pointed a finger into the surface of Terzo’s desk, stressing it. Terzo remained quiet and gave them a look. A look that Fox maybe would not have been able to place before but now saw it as a sort of gentle disbelieving. The quirk of a frown framing those deep, curious eyes. “There was an incident,” Fox breathed out, reluctantly.

Terzo sat up straight, considering them for a moment. They tried to keep eye contact, staring him down with a set jaw, hoping the severity of the look would discourage him from making them recount the tale. But Fox flitted their eyes away, feeling the pins and needles of shame and anger prickling over them. “At least you’re not bitter about it,” Terzo said, and Fox heard his scoff before he’d even made it.

“That’s cute. But I am. I’m very bitter about it.” Fox did not want to talk about it. They didn’t. They didn’t want to remember the incident, they didn’t want to think about it in the slightest. They did not want to think about how badly they wanted to plant their fist into Copia’s shit-eating face, they did not want to think about how they wished they’d thrown a rock at the back of his head, they did not want to think about how their blood boiled under their skin when they considered the possibility of running into him again. Fox’s hands were trembling. They were not trembling because they were so desperate to talk to someone about just how much they hated Copia, so much that if they didn’t, their head was going to collapse in on itself. It was because they were just dignifiedly annoyed. And full of coffee.

“Are you already making enemies Volpelino?” Terzo said mockingly, reaching out to slide the coffee cup out of Fox’s hand. “I thought the point was to get some action?”

Fox rolled their eyes, but let Terzo take the cup. If he thought they’d had enough then maybe it was a good idea to let it be. Besides, they didn’t want shaky hands when they attempted to put a trellis together later. That would be one way to lose a finger to the wrath of power tools. “I thought you’d be proud of me,” they said, already beginning again before their brain told them to shut it. “ Fuck, I hate him. He threatened me. Do you have any sort of authority?”

“Ouch.”

“No,” Fox would roll their eyes again if they could, but they didn’t want to make themself dizzy. “I meant is there any way you can do something? About him or… to him?”

The smile that crossed Terzo’s face was utterly wicked. “You’re devilish,” he hummed and slid the cup back across to Fox. So much for enough was enough. Clearly Terzo was willing to indulge them and Fox was not ashamed to admit it made them feel quite cocky. “Who is it?”

And just like that, the feeling was gone. “It’s-” Fox almost gulped. They had forgotten themself and were unsure of Terzo’s relationship to Copia. He seemed to have a small problem with whatever he considered the upper management of this place. Fox didn’t know the exact reason, but they must have slighted him somehow. However, he and Copia did not look dissimilar and it was hard to ignore those eyes. “It’s…” Fox pointed up towards the ceiling.

“God?” Terzo said in feigned disinterest and very sincere mocking.

“No, ass.” Fox shifted in their seat, hesitating long enough to clear their dry throat. “Papa.” The room became very quiet, enough so that Fox could hear the faint chatter of Siblings down in the courtyard. Terzo was staring at them without any trace of that sinful smile and Fox was right back to not being able to decipher what he was thinking. Was he frowning? He could have been frowning. He could have been scowling. Fox knew he couldn’t have been that vexed about it, or he would’ve retorted with something spiteful by now. “Am I in trouble?” they said after a beat.

“I have never,” Terzo began, and Fox briefly felt a lump in their throat. “Been prouder.” And he certainly did look it. Fox maybe would have described that look as mischievous, but that was too soft. It wasn’t even just malicious- there was some kind of monstrous delight, some vast hunger chasing the even vaster hate. “I despise that figlio de puttana.”

Fox recognised the feeling that went along with Terzo’s look, because it was exactly what had been overtaking them since the unfortunate encounter. They beamed, shuffling their chair closer to Terzo’s desk and planting their elbows on the surface. “I knew I liked you for a good reason. Dirt, now, gimme.”

Fox wondered if Terzo hated Copia even more than they did. He certainly knew the man well, to his disgust, and had for a very long time. Since they were both young, he had told them. It made Fox slightly concerned that they shared the same hate for Copia having only just met him yesterday when Terzo had known him perhaps his whole life. Fox pushed down that concern, pushed it down very deep until it twisted into pride instead.

And as the two of them spoke, it became more and more difficult to feel anything but pride accompanied by a poisonous, delicious loathing.

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wrathbites · 3 years

Note

Cuddling Prompt: On the floor

Well, this sure took off in a direction I wasn’t expecting lol. Featuring Rhys and his besties, when they’re all around 13/14

“I’m telling you, there’s something wrong with him.”

“Of course there’s something wrong with him. He was sick.”

“Oh, Tobi! Look at him, that’s not sick sad, that’s sad sad. There’s something -”

“My parents are separating,” Rhys cuts in, keeping his eyes focused solely on the hat he’s unravelling one fucked up row at a time. Their resulting silence is deafening and awkward and it prickles at the back of his neck like an unwelcome stare but...

But. He’s already been through hell the past fortnight, he’s already tired to the bone, his world’s already been flipped on its head and blown sky high and he doesn’t have much energy left to give a single flying fuck. Let them stare, at least they’ve stopped bickering over him like he’s a science project gone tits-up.

But. It’s a silence that stretches, and stretches, and stretches. Like an elastic band pulling taut, pulling further, straining to the point of snapping. He chucks the yarn aside, knitting needles next, and there’ll be hell to pay later trying to untangle the mess he’s no doubt just made -

But. Elena’s suddenly right there at his back and planting her chin on his shoulder, squeezing tight around him and trapping his arms from the elbow up. He freezes, anger snuffed out as quick as it flared.

“Uh.”

And then Tobi’s there, all spindly limbs folding down in front of him, scooting forward on his butt until he’s really damn close between Rhys’ spread legs. Thighs over his, knees tucked up at his sides, leaning forward to hug him, too, and Rhys has no clue where to put his hands.

“Guys?”

“Don’t make it awkward,” Tobi grumbles into his shoulder, as if his arms so tight and tense aren’t already making it weird.

“You need a hug,” Elena says, voice muffled against the opposite shoulder. “My Mum says hugs are for friends in need. You’re my friend, you’re in need, and if your own Mum can’t be arsed getting off her spaceship for two minutes to give you one then I say fuck her. I’ll hug you all damn day in her stead.”

“Elena!”

“What? I’m not wrong!”

“You’re making it awkward. You can’t just bitch about his Mum after that.”

“Sure I can! And you and your bony knees made it awkward first, so. Shut up.”

Of course they start bickering again while he’s sandwiched between them, quite unable to escape. It’s so them that - despite everything - Rhys laughs.

“Thanks guys.”

“Anytime, Rhysie.”

He pinches Tobi under the ribs for that one.

Elena wasn’t joking about hugging him all day, either. When her knees eventually protest, she drags him fully down to the floor and sticks to his back like a goddamn octopus. Tobi, at least, has the bright idea to fetch some pillows, and when he hesitates in returning to them, unsure where to fit himself, Rhys tugs him down right where he was before, except with his back to Rhys’ front this time.

"Okay, maybe a cuddle pile isn’t so bad after all,” Tobi says.

“I told you it wasn’t.”

“You also told me cats were friendly and Mr. Cheese sure fuckin’ isn’t,” he snipes back. Elena swats at him, misses, and smacks Rhys in the face instead.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, sorry! Tobi, shut up.”

"Both of you knock it off. Or I’ll sprawl across the pair of you.”

That shuts them up. Rhys smiles.

#theoriginalladya #I'll retire when I die Rhys Shepard #Mass Effect fanfiction #Wrathwrites

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sneezy-cheeseloaf · 3 years

Text

recounting the entire avengers: endgame movie, which i only saw once when it came out, from memory

because i just took the SAT and i want to do anything except think about that so get ready for a fun ride full of holes and my reenactments of scenes and quotes that i remember from however many years it’s been now since endgame came out. buckle the fuckle up

movie opens, clint’s whole ass family fucking dies. cue killing spree fueled by grief and anger. HashTag Relatable

tony is floating through space with nebula and teaching her how to play paper football

holy shit is this how tony dies

“pep” ouc h

oh hey he’s home, dope

The Gang (tm) learns where thanos’s farm is somehow i can’t really remember

“perhaps i judged you too harshly”

“???? thor????” “what? i went for the head”

“five” five what?? days?? weeks??? months???? oh boy i can’t wait to find ou- “years later” HUH???????

steve looks the exact same, so i guess he kept up that workout schedule even through the snap. i mean good for him honestly

and is also running a talk therapy group like sam did

a single smidgen of gay representation but it’s a good start ig

i don’t really remember what everyone else was doing, i just know that tony and pep have morgan now but idk if that gets revealed now or later

the only reason we had a movie is because of a rat. everyone say thank you to Rat for releasing scott lang, please. round of applause

scott’s daughter is all grown up and catch me sobbing over the fact that he wasn’t there to see it

somewhere in here nat is crying and eating a sandwich and honestly girl same

“hey!!! it’s me!!!! scott lang!!! ant man???? also what the hell happened???? lemme IN”

cue scott lang having a single brain cell and bringing up time travel. i think it was him that proposed the idea. maybe not. but imma give him credit

oh yeah bruce and hulk are besties now and bruce is just permanently Like That

and cue everyone being shook at the idea of time travel

time to go see Science Man at his house on the lake

“i wish you had come for anything else.” ouch

gang leaves dejectedly

peter. that’s it. and suddenly tony is all hands on deck

cue science mumbo jumbo in the middle of the night while he eats something out of a bag that i can’t remember

“shit!!” “sHiT!!!” “NO”

“i love you 3000″

Science Man reveals that he has, indeed cracked the code to literal time travel

cue nat, the only person with an umbrella, going to find clint who is busy with murder, as he does

“don’t do that. don’t give me home” stfu budapest man and get in the car.

thor has. enlargened. and is now playing fortnight with korg as a means to cope with what happened plus losing loki, as i think we all would

The Gang is back together and working (surprisingly) coordinately and throwing ideas around and it’s actually very cute. and it makes my heart very happy. and i want to cry every time i think about it because we all know what comes next

scott’s taco gets blown away. bruce gives him another. all is well in the world

and in this exhibit we see the only brain cell in the whole group, which is being used by rhodey at all times

“why don’t we just,,,, (choking motion)” “to a BABY???”

during the time tests someone gets reverted to a baby but i don’t remember who and it’s highkey disturbing

“i consider this an absolute win!!”

cue slo mo walk with the cool white time suits that everyone looks so good in

“see you in a minute” that smile. she looks so happy. sobbing

i think it’s in here that all the color go through steve’s eyes, so let’s just take a minute to acknowledge how pretty he is

“just for the record, that suit did nothing for your ass.” “i don’t remember asking you to look”

“that’s america’s ass.” yes it is scott you’re absolutely right

“i cOuLd dO tHiS aLL dAy” “yeah i knoOoOW”

time for tony to give tony a heart attack and then just stare in what i can only assume is amusement. i’m pretty sure that comes after america’s ass but maybe not

somewhere in here steve is just staring at peggy through blinds and it’s sad when you see it but when you think about it afterwards, it’s so funny for no reason

time to get whacked by a very angry hulk who was not allowed to use the elevator

“NO STAIRS”

tony goes flying. so does the tesseract. loki, in handcuffs, is like “oh bet this is mine now” and. Leaves.

i’m pretty sure it’s bruce who goes and gets schooled by The Ancient One on the multiverse, and i say it’s bruce because i think he’s the only one out of The Gang who could ever actually wrap his head around it

i don’t remember exactly how they get the tesseract but they do

thor and rocket are in asgard and thor has a panic attack, as I think we all would if we had to talk to our dead mother and pretend like we don't know what's going to happen

and remember kids, slapping someone is not the way to handle a panic attack. anyways

a mother always knows

"i'm still worthy!!!!" you always were, thor. you never stopped being worthy

and we have our hammer back

cue sobbing on vormir

“clint. it’s ok. it’s ok.” that smile.

nat’s fucking dead and i’m fucking dead inside let’s keep this party goin

other stones are recovered and i don’t really remember how but hey we got all six

“where’s nat?” cue more sobbing from me and from clint as you can see each and every team member’s heart drop to the fucking floor. especially steve

yeah maybe we’re doing this for half the universe and all the people we lost, but mostly for nat now

tony’s makeshift infinity gauntlet has entered the chat

Green Man is the only one who can physically take the power of the stones, so the fate of literally everything they have ever done up to this point is on him

snap rest in peace bruce’s arm

cue every single person in the theater holding their breath

“guys. it worked.”

cue explosion as their facility gets bombed and i am terrified that it has killed the entire gang

but it obviously has not and i am once again a Class A Idiot

i can't remember if it’s steve or tony who wakes up first but one shakes the other awake and is like “get the fuck up bitch idk what just happened but we got a problem”

everyone is mostly fine. but they’re all alive and that’s what matters

and now we have the setting for the entire rest of the movie basically

oh hey thanos. that’s uh. that’s a big army you got there

i don’t really remember everything that happened with The Past thanos, gamora, and nebula but i remember that gamora once again sees what a twat her adoptive father is and is like “oh hell na”

cue the gang fighting for their lives against Past thanos. literally

oh shit thor’s about to be killed????

OH MY GOD HE HAS THE HAMMER

cue the theater screaming as they should

hell yeah. bonk that giant space grape with the god of thunder’s hammer. you go steve. and look like a badass doing it as you should

shit’s still fucked and they eventually get their asses handed to them one by one

somewhere in here the shield breaks just like we saw in age of ultron. and like damn bro i liked that thing

steve stands up by himself because bitch. you cant kill him unless he says so. he dies on his own terms. he didn’t live for over a fucking century to die like this

our mans is standing up against a whole ass army knowing full well that he can’t win but damn if he aint ready to try

“ok listen strange. you have to open the portal to his left. his LEFT. you hear me???”

“steve. STEVE. on your left.”

cue the most goosebump-inducing scene that i have ever seen and probably will ever see. i would do anything to see that scene for the first time again. that feeling was like nothing i’ve ever experienced

the amazing symphonics are NOT helping my already-about-to-explode-from-excitement heart

now the gang’s ALL here. and we all cry because all of our peeps are back from the dead and we all missed them and highkey grieved for them after infinity war

i can’t remember if steve actually sees bucky yet but i think he does and i wanted to cry on the spot because not only did i miss bucky but man did i just want them to see each other again

cue sick pan of the whole ass marvel roster like smash ultimate, including howard duck somewhere in there

PETER OUR BOY SWINGIN ON IN

“AVENGERS. assemble.” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

but we all know damn well that not a single person could hear him whisper that shit. like steve bro speak up a little

and the battle for the ages commences

we get to see all our favorite boys are girls fuck shit up and it’s absolutely incredible. wow it really feels like someone’s missing who could that be.

this is now a very elaborate game of keepaway

“catch” “Catch” “CATCH “CATCH”

“hey queens” he remembered. catch me cryin

“hey peter. got somethin for me?” god i love her. flew through a whole ass spaceship. no stoppin her

t'challa remembers clint's name. he did care

oh yeah scott is fucking humongous again, but third time’s the charm ig. maybe he won't pass the fuck out this time

somewhere in here, strange starts holding like. an entire ocean back and i dont really remember where it came from

we get a whole segment of marvel women kicking ass and taking names and i think i just need to take a minute. WE collectively need to take a minute

carol flies straight through a spaceship and everyone is like ???? hello????? where have you been?????????

carol gets literally headbutted by thanos and doesnt move a fucking inch. and that look of murder in her eyes. she could tell me to walk into a pit of lava and i would not question it. the power

“launch the missiles!!!” “but sir, our army-” “DO IT”

damn thanos our expectations for you were low but holy fuck

somewhere in here i think petter quill sees Past gamora and is like gamora???? and she like kicks him in the balls or somethin and is like “this is the ones i picked?????”

the fight continues and honestly a lot of it’s a blur but damn was it not the coolest thing i’ve ever seen.

cue strange knowing exactly how this was gonna go down, and holding up a single finger

i dont think ive ever seen that look on tony's face before

oh shit thanos has the gauntlet and all the stones. fuck.

wait holdup that gauntlet looks a little funky

WAIT HOLDUP

“i am inevitable”

“and i. am iron man.”

the theater, once again holds its breath

all is lowkey calm and everyone is shook

thanos’s entire army slowly fades away. including one of those big worm things that almost eats (i think it was) rocket but like. dusts right as it hits the ground and is a really cool shot

and thanos sits down on a rock. and finally is gone. and it's so cathartic

oh joyous day!! they’ve won!! they’ve done it!!! wait holdup where’s tony. i remember what happened to bruce where the fuck is tony

wait

wait hold on

wait hold on a minute

“we did it. we won, mr stark. we won. please, mr stark”

“pep.”

“it’s ok. you can rest. you can rest.”

i have officially passed away and am a sobbing mess. you can’t do this to me. he’s gonna come back. there’s no way. tony stark doesn’t die. no.

this is a fucking funeral. i am going to combust into tears

“proof that tony stark has a heart”

i just wanted him to be able to see morgan grow up.

but him and nat are eating shawarma together in the sky now.

“i’m recording this in case something goes wrong, which it won’t.”

“i love you 3000.”

oh we’re still rolling. oh we don’t even get a minute to process

steve is leaving??? wait holdup we cant lose both. no

“are you sure about this?” “i have to”

“i’m with you til the end of the line” so that was a fucking lie

but steve deserves to do what makes him happy. so i can’t be too mad. actually, nah i aint even mad i’m just sad

bucky looks so dejected. so sad. someone please give him a hug. he desperately needs it

oh hey steve. but you’re old now. hey then, grandpa. how did you. get there

buck and sam go talk to him as they should

“you wanna talk about her?” “no, i don’t think i will”

“how does it feel?” “like it belongs to someone else”

sam has officially inhered the shield, and by extension, his very own bucky barnes. it’s a packaged deal

clint’s got his family back. and they can finally finish their picnic or whatever they were doing at the beginning of the movies

and steve finally got that dance. finally. and he looks so happy. so content.

and that’s about all i remember

i have not watched endgame since i saw it in theaters when it came out because i absolutely do not have the emotional stability to do it again. but damn the disney plus shows have been bangin

i hope you enjoyed the ride, thank you for joining me in my. whatever the fuck this is

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kchuarts · 4 years

Text

Flowers in Blood

A/N: This ones a sad one I ain’t gonna hold you on that. Also the ending isn’t very cliffhangery? It will be though. It will be.

Summary: Sometimes Jonathan Pine needs to be held in return.

Warnings: GRAPHIC WAR / DEATH SCENE

Taglist: @lucywrites02, @shiningloki

Chapter 8: Black Rose

The crime lord took a drag from his cigarette, puffing out smoke before answering. “I have my ways, you should already know that.” his lips pulled up into a smirk. Roper waved two fingers at one of his guards to bring him a glass of wine. “So I heard you and good ol’ Danny boy have met. Nasty bloke he is.” Roper takes another drag from the stick.

“I am not here to have idle chat, Roper.” Pine looked behind him, making sure the door was still shut and Katie was hopefully out of ear shot. “Just tell me first how in the hell you managed to crawl out of the hole you hid away in and what you want from me.” His blue eyes kept glancing over to the door, debating if he should let the young woman in his flat that he had to step outside.

Richard chuckled into the phone, taking a hold of his wine and sipping it. “I’m not going to repeat myself, Pine. You should have heard me the first time.” He took another sip of his expensive beverage before setting it down. “I’ve come to give you a ring and tell you that you’re off the hook. I’ve taken care of what Natalie wants from you within a few hours after your departure. She’s got the biggest of smiles on her face right now because of it too.” A knowing smirk touched his lips again, sinister intentions gleaming in his eyes.

Pine huffed and opened the door for a moment, holding his phone away from his mouth. “Katie? I’m gonna step out for a smoke for a bit. I shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.” Dragging her into the mess known as Richard Roper was one of many things that Jonathan didn’t want to meddle her into. He put the phone back up to his ear, fast walking out of the flat as fast as he could.

“Katie?” The older man mused, chuckling and pursing his lips as he inhaled from the white stick. “You’ve moved on fast if I’m assuming correctly. I thought you and Jed would have eloped after the stunt you pulled with me, shaming me for a few years.” He flicked the ashes into a tray and frowned at the memory of just a few years back. It was certainly interesting to know that Pine potentially had a new love interest. Roper noted this in the back of his mind and would ask Daniel about this new woman later on.

Jonathan lit a cigarette of his own, taking a drag before lowering his voice as he was outside. Anger and hot smoke ignited inside the agent's chest at the mention of his past lover. “You should know that the life I lead isn’t meant for time to play romance or settle down. Now tell me what the fuck do you want. I can’t say I’m overly thankful you took care of something I had started planning ideas for.” He took another drag, eyes scanning the crowd for any onlookers that could be eavesdropping.

“Bollocks! Come off it, Pine I know you better than that. You certainly didn’t have your finalized plan of shutting Poppy down within a fortnight, so I went ahead and took care of it for you!” Richard leaned back in his seat, staring out of his villa balcony. Like he had said, Roper had his ways of working his way back into the land of crime and managed to get his private island home back. “I’m not trying to kiss ass and earn points with you, I’m playing devil’s advocate at the moment. I did it because you have bigger problems ahead of you and Daniel was tired of waiting around for Natalie and her drug addicted squabble to actually do something. You can certainly cross Poppy off your list now because Bloodroot is now taking over.” He clicked his tongue and reached over to grab a file, “Sometimes I wonder about these Americans and their tenacity to get the job done. Feisty ones they are, I’m sure you understand just as much as I do.” He hinted at Jed once again, still sour over that whole debacle. “Oh and you needn’t worry about Natalie’s boys watching you anymore, in fact you should be more worried if Belladonna could be creeping nearby. Luckily for you, I haven’t called any of my men to keep tabs on you… Yet.”

The Crime Lord’s slight cryptic speak was beginning to drive Jonathan crazy and he just wanted to hang up right then and there. However, if what Roper said was true then this meant he could return the call to Angela and find out what she dug up on that thumbdrive and note. “I can only wonder when that will be.” He hissed, exhaling smoke and flicking the ashes. “So you only called me just to tell me that you handled my situation but that you’re also in cahoots with Belladonna’s leader? Brilliant. What a waste of my time. Next time you even think about calling me, be sure that I don’t have your number being tracked resulting in putting you away for good.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up, jaw clenched tightly. Pine knew DAMN well that Roper was up to something more nefarious than he led on. It wasn’t out of the kindness of his own cold heart that he’d do Pine a favor after what he did to him. He wanted something and whatever that something was wouldn’t be good.

“Well?” Daniel narrowed his gaze at Roper sitting across from him.

Richard gave a knowing smirk and nodded, “He’s suspicious but I think he took the bait.” He reached for his wine and leaned back again, sipping it. “Now we just wait for when that stupid woman sends him off to South Korea or Japan. Bloodroot is currently enroute to Tokyo?”

The Greek man nodded, his arms folded across his chest. “They are to meet up with Wisteria and possibly Daphne if The Tigress decides to get off her lazy ass and make the trip. From there, they will be discussing new trade routes and deals now that Poppy has been taken care of.” Daniel sneered at his former English branch.

“What of your sister? The Wolfsbane branch?” Roper raised a brow, curious as Abbadon’s area was not brought up. For as long as Richard had known the siblings, he rather liked the younger sister as she was quick and took no shit. He thought that she was better suited to be leader of Belladonna instead of her aggressive older brother. Daniel was too brash and never thought of how his decisions would impact his business after he leapt. It worked out eventually but with too many mistakes and messes.

Amber eyes gleamed with dark fury, “What about my traitorous sister? Of course Wolfsbane is out of the question.” Daniel scoffed and gave a slight snarl. “Because of her little performance in Moscow and now with Poppy gone, we have to work even harder with just four instead of six branches.” His eye twitched from irritation. The night of the gala still infuriated Daniel as he had blindly put his trust into his sister and was played right into her trap. She knew Pine would be there and had been hiding her desire to break free of the family business until then. That is the reason why her son, Nikolai, was locked away in a cage in an unknown location in order to keep tabs on her. However, this did not appear to be enough and so Daniel decided that having two big branches was useless. “So do you have anything else to tell me, Richard?” He exhaled hotly and raised his brows. “Anything that may perhaps calm my rage? News of successful weapon sales? New whores shipped from Seoul? Pine’s new partner?” A sick smirk cracked across his tanned lips.

“Oh.” Roper inwardly rolled his eyes at Daniel’s insatiable thirst for a perfect harem. Sure, Richard enjoyed a woman’s company from time to time but, Daniel was rather disgustingly obsessed with it. He even saw first hand that his respect of women was zero to none, hence why his wives were covered in bruises. “Well yes, I believe he mentioned her name was Katie? Don’t you have… Twelve wives already?” He raised a brow but would rather not hear the details.

Daniel got up and clapped his hands, beaming pervertedly. “I much prefer that over Natasha. That was her little nickname back in Moscow. Mmm “Katie” yes I do enjoy that.” He frowned slightly at Roper as he heard the hint of disgust in his ally’s voice. “Thirteen is just another number, no? I have collected wives from all over! Egypt, Germany, Canada, Thailand, Japan, Korea, China, Russia, Spain, Africa, France, Australia… I need an all American girl to carry on with my little theme I have going on.” His smirk returned and a very obvious erection stood out. “Now, when you hear news of their fated arrival to the land of the rising sun, let me know and I will discuss plans to lure them to the den of The Tigress. She may be a lazy bitch, but she knows what she does and performs it well. Oh and Roper-” He turned around, smirk gone again. “Do not let me regret bailing you out or it is your head I will take as payment.”

--------------------------------------

Police sirens blared as several cars pulled up to the abandoned warehouse out in the woods. Angela stepped out of one of the cars as she had been informed that this crime was another piece to her case. “Jesus H. Christ-” She muttered, covering her mouth with her sweater sleeve upon seeing the blood bath.

The entirety of Poppy were currently being dressed in body bags as just hours ago, they had been slaughtered brutally. Natalie Baylor’s appearance was by the far the worst with her eyes gouged out and her mouth split from ear to ear. On each member of the drug organization there had been a Belladonna flower carved into their forearms complete with a small bouquet of the said plant. What was more gruesome was that many of the members, Natalie included, had the equally toxic berries stuffed into their mouths by the handful.

“So I’m gonna assume this is the higher ups. God save the Queen, they’re going after their own crew.” Angela pondered, walking carefully around the corpses. Natalie’s clenched fist particularly caught the Director’s attention and she asked for a pair of gloves to inspect the late woman’s body. “Thank you dear” She took the gloves from a paramedic and slipped them on, carefully opening the stiffened hand. It had been around four hours since the discovery of the murders, so rigor mortis had already settled in. Much to Angela’s lack of surprise, there was indeed something held. The older woman removed the paper and frowned in concentration, waving a police officer away as they tried to escort her off. “I’m part of this investigation, Angela Burr? Haven’t you heard of me?” She shook her head as the officer gave her a bit of an attitude. “Bugger off.” She cursed under her breath before returning to the strange piece of parchment. What she read made her blood run cold.

Considering that you’ll be the first here, my dear Angela, I dedicate this work of art to you. The higher ups of Belladonna have so graciously allowed me to walk a “free man” once more. All I had to do was take care of these spineless oafs for them so that your dogs could continue to sniff their way along the investigation. Take this as a warning that I am watching and should you reveal anything that this note contains, the same could happen to you. I’d like to think of this as a little game and see how long it takes before someone slips. Have a lovely evening, my dear.

-An old friend

It was wrong of her to do, but Angela quickly shoved the piece of evidence in her pocket and growled. She knew exactly who this was and was not happy in the slightest, “Roper.”

---------------------------------------

The moment Jonathan stepped back inside, Katie was already in bed and sound asleep, snuggled into the sheets. Pine couldn’t help but think of how adorable the brunette looked all tucked in and cozy. He sighed deeply, figuring that now with Roper’s odd involvement it would be safe to give his boss a ring. It still puzzled Pine though with Richard suddenly appearing out of the blue and giving them some leeway. There had to be more than just this, Jonathan was certain that Roper wanted something, he would just have to find out as soon as he could. Shaking his head, Jonathan makes his way to the bathroom and tends to his nightly needs before making his way to bed. He would think more on the case tomorrow morning with a more clear and concise mind. Carefully, he peels back his sheets and slips into them without waking Katie up. Thankfully, the young woman seems to be a rather heavy sleeper as Jonathan’s arms wrapping around her body does not seem to disturb her. Pine was more than happy to have Katie in his arms and would never turn something like this down as her body molded perfectly to his. Leaning over, he turned the lamp off and adjusted his position. With the soft patter of rain hitting the window, soothing darkness, Katie’s warm body, and lovely scent; Jonathan found himself asleep within minutes.

-flash-

“GO! GO! GO!!” The sergeant of Pine’s squad screamed as the Taliban were firing at them.

A younger Jonathan frantically looked around, the sound of gunfire ringing in his ears for a moment. “CAM!? CAM WHERE ARE YOU!?” He screamed for his friend, hiding behind a bullet ridden wall for cover as a pipe bomb blew. Cries of pain from his companions had suddenly become louder than the explosions and rain of fire. He was not about to leave his best friend behind to die. “CAMERON!?” Pine threw himself from out of his hiding place, only to be forced to army crawl as bullets from each side whizzed above him. He had to hold back a scream as a child soldier fell dead right in his eyesight. Anything that he had eaten that day made its way up and covered Jonathan’s front as a reaction to seeing this innocent child fall victim to war. There was no time to stop as Pine continued to army crawl, using the dust from the area as coverage.

“Pine-” A voice moaned out hoarsely.

What Jonathan saw next made his stomach drop. Cameron was tied to a post with a large handmade timer bomb stabbed into his hands. “N-No, Cam.” He felt breathless as he quickly made his way to his dying friend. Almost immediately, he tried to undo the ropes securing Cameron, struggling as his vision was blurred from dust and smoke.

The brunette man gave a bloody smile to his best friend and laughed weakly. “Hey i-it’s ok. I’m gonna be ok, Jonathan.” He coughed, shutting his eyes and continued to smile through the pain.

Jonathan began to cry hard, tears trailing down his dirt ridden face. “No! I won’t let you die!! I’m gonna get you out of here and, and patched up. Your sister is waiting for you, Cam!! I won’t allow you to die!!” His bruised fingers ripped away at the bindings as fast as they could. “I know that your parents give two shits less about you, but your sister needs you!! Katie needs you!!” He sobbed, seeing he only had less than two minutes left. If only he hadn’t gotten into a stupid argument with Cameron over a week ago, none of this would have happened. Cameron wouldn’t have stormed out for a smoke, wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped, wouldn’t have gotten beaten, and wouldn’t have to die. Deep down, Jonathan knew it was too late to save his best friend but his frantic state wouldn’t allow him to see the truth before him.

Cameron shook his head slightly, “It’s too late. M-My legs.” He coughed, nodding down to them. He saw Jonathan’s blue gaze look at his gored limbs in horror. The terrorist group had practically severed them off down to the bone and even a bit through it. To make matters even more painful, his achilles tendons had been ripped out.

01:00

00:59

“NO!! I CAN’T!!” Jonathan breathed harder and growled as he fought a losing battle in order to save his friend.

“JONATHAN PINE!!” Cameron shouted, getting his attention. His bright green eyes shimmered in the ray of sunshine that tore through the clouds of war. “Go. I’m dying for m-my country. I need you to run. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back. Please. Live on for me and if you ever meet little fox, make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble.” A tear slid down his bruised face as the bomb was down to thirty seconds. “GO!!” He wailed at Jonathan, watching his friend get up with remorse and look at him one last time before taking off. Cameron shut his eyes, smiling and waiting for death to take him. “Thank you, for everything.”

BOOM!

-flash-

A young girl with brilliant green eyes stands before him. “My name is extremely Irish, it’s corny I know. I’m Katie O’Connor”

His heart stopped as soon as she spoke her name. So he wasn’t dreaming after all when Angela said that a “Katelyn O’Connor” would be accompanying him. This was her; Cameron’s little sister. Little Fox.

-flash-

“JONATHAN!! JONATHAN HELP ME!! I DON’T WANNA DIE!!” Now it was Katie strapped to a pole instead of Cameron.

Jonathan shot up, gasping for air. His hands shook as he looked at them in the moonlight. The clock read 3AM once he glanced over to see how much sleep he had gotten.

“Pine?” Katie spoke softly, adjusting her position so that she was facing him. Around 2:30AM, Katie had been woken up by sounds of whimpering and slight thrashing from the man next to her. She had tried to wake him up, but with no success. Her brother’s name kept slipping from Pine’s lips in a panic and he even broke out into a full on sob. What had he truly seen that day?

The dark blonde haired man froze up at the sound of her voice and turned to face her, swallowing to soothe his dry throat. “Did I wake you? I-I apologize for whatever you may have heard.” He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. It had been a while since he last dreamt of that day. How horrific war truly was and how unnecessary that mankind craved it as a means of justification. His brows knit together as he felt Katie pull him down slowly. He felt her arms wrap around him as she pulled him close to her, laying his head upon her chest. The sound of her heartbeat made Jonathan wrap his arms around her in return and start to sob into her chest. His body shook as he cried softly, not holding back his emotions.

“I forgive you… About Cameron. It wasn’t your fault.” She whispered into his short blonde locks, her fingers gently massaging his scalp. “We still have a long way to go before I completely forgive you, but I understand now that you tried to save my brother.” She shut her eyes, feeling tears of her own burn them. One witness to Pine’s nightmares of past war was enough for Katie to forgive and let go of her false grudge against Jonathan. A sort of peace had come over her upon her words and a soft smile graced her lips to know that Cameron wasn’t in pain and that he died heroically. Katie held Jonathan a bit closer that night, with both of them succumbing to sleep shortly once more. They had a big future ahead of them in taking down Belladonna, but they would do it together as she needed him and he needed her.

#the night manager #the night manager canon divergence #flowers in blood #jonathan pine x ofc #jonathan pine #tom hiddleston #spies in love #tw: war #tw: gore #tw: death #fanfic #my writing #writing

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

insufferable {Joe Mazzello}

Summary: Joe is the star of the college musical you’re lighting, and all he seems to care about it goofing off, which irritates you to no end. Maybe he’s just an asshole for asshole’s sake... maybe not.

A/N: 2390 words. College AU. No pronouns for reader. Friends, show week fortnight is OVER, so many things in my life have changed in the past two weeks, I have a 3000 word essay due tomorrow, and this literally took me over a week. I’m sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy it. As always, feedback is appreciated!! Also @sitonmyhot-seatoflove, @cosmicsskies, and @borhapbxtch 😘

Joseph Mazzello III (or as you liked to refer to him as; Junior, The Second) was the lead of the musical one of your friends had written. For your part, lighting an original, college musical wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend two weeks of your life, but a promise is a promise, one that you were rapidly regretting with every moment you spent in that little theatre.

The most irritating thing about Joe wasn’t the fact that he could never seem to find his light, or that he liked touching the buttons on the fog machine, or that the director seemed to adore him, it was that he was genuinely talented. The second most irritating thing about him was that he couldn’t seem to shut up for five minutes.

You’d met him at the first script reading; Ellie, the director and another friend of yours, had gathered the whole cast and crew at her little shoebox apartment for dinner, and to familiarize everyone with the script. Joe had caught your eye where he was tucked up against one end of the sofa, eating party pies like his life depended on it. He’s pretty, has a certain aura about him like he’s got some sort of magnetism about him, and everyone speaks fondly about and to him. When he smiles, something about it has your heart beating unexpectedly faster.

And then he starts speaking.

That’s not to say he’s annoying first off, actually he’s quite funny and charming. He’s the leading man, and with good reason. He gives a good cold read, humming along when Ellie pulls out her guitar to give demos of the songs she’d written, and bantering easily with the other cast members every so often if it fits the scene. He’s warmhearted, well-spoken, and completely affable.

But he also turns out to be a fucking pain to work with.

Maybe it’s that he’s too good with people. You adored watching him in rehearsals, loved hearing him sing along with the band, and enjoyed his company well enough when you hung out with the group.

But right now, it’s six at night, you’re only halfway through the lighting plot after an already long day, and he’s got the stage manager on his shoulders, chicken fighting his costar, who’s got the AV designer on her shoulders. This is the fourth time you have had to break out the God Mic in the last hour; Ellie is too tired to reprimand her cast and crew for their behavior, not that she would, she hates playing the bad guy.

“I’m sorry,” your voice is absolutely harmless and sweet as you death glare the cast and crew from bio-box where you’re operating the lights from, “am I interrupting you?” You ask, tone sharp, eyes tired.

Joe’s actually the first to look to where you were, and is quick to lower the stage manager back to the ground.

“No, you’re fine Y/N,” he says with a laugh, and that boyish smile that you’re too irritated to enjoy right now, “we were probably interrupting you-”

“Joe,” you cut him off, lips against the microphone for emphasis, “that’s the joke.” You tell him absolutely humourlessly. He obligingly shuts up. For about five minutes.

It’s the most painful lighting plot you’ve ever done; between Joe and the rest of the cast goofing off, the stage manager not writing down cues and having to borrow your copy of the script at the end of the session, and the director not knowing exactly what she wanted but that she’d know it when she saw it (which she didn’t, she just liked whatever you did, and made indecisive noises whenever you asked her opinion), you needed a damn drink.

It seems the rest of the cast and crew have the same idea, however, and they invite you along. You don’t want to seem rude and say no, but if Joe doesn’t shut his damn mouth you’re gonna punch him. He’s not even talking about anything irritating, you’re just sick of hearing his voice.

You found yourself coming to hate Joe professionally, and it seemed that that was starting to bleed into your personal opinions of him too. You made sure to stay well away from him at the bar you all headed to, a few blocks away from campus and within reasonable walking distance of your home.

It's a nice enough night, all of you excitedly discussing the development of the show, all crammed together in a little booth at the back of a poorly lit pub. You've got the director on one side, and you're practically falling out of the booth on the other, but you don't mind too much. Joe, from where he's sitting in the middle of the seat opposite you, will occasionally give you a scrutinizing look when he thinks no-one else is looking, and he's always quick to look away, crack a joke, when you catch him.

Call time for the actors for the tech run the following day is ten. You're there at nine, your phone plugged into the aux cord and blasting your favourite album through the speakers as you refocus a light diligently. It's where you feel most at home, on top of a ladder, on top of the world.

“You really know what you’re doing up there, don’t you?” There’s something almost awed in the voice that greets you, though it comes as a surprise, and you have to grab the bar you’re rigging the light on to steady yourself when you jump. It’s Joe, leaning on the stage, bag slung over one shoulder. You bite back the first sarcastic response that comes to mind, and you smile, tired.

“Of course, that’s why they pay me,” you laugh, a little put out for being thrown off your rhythm, despite the music still playing.

“We’re not- you know we’re not getting paid, right?” He asks, a little confused. You roll your eyes.

“It’s a joke,” you replied, going back to your work.

“I feel like we have different definitions of joke.”

“Why are you here so early?” You were quickly losing patience with him, pulling the gates of the light by the bulb out to widen the beam of the light. There’s a moment of silence, of hesitation, and when you look to Joe, he’s looking over the set. “No reason?” You prompted, and it snapped him out of his thoughts enough to look at you.

“Came to go over choreography before the run,” he admitted. That does get you to smile a little, he’s nothing if not diligent. “You?”

“Just fixing a light.”

He’s stretching and warming up, earphones in while you struggle to put the ladder away, and that quiet moment in which you thought he was diligent evaporates.

“I will fade to black in the middle of his solo.” You growl, sitting by the window of the on-campus cafe, watching the steam rise from your drink on the morning of opening night.

“Please do not,” Ellie sighs around her mouthful of granola. You make a face, but she holds up her hand for silence, chewing and swallowing before she speaks again, “listen, if you two could stop bitching about each other for five minutes you’d see that-”

“He’s bitching about me? I’m just doing my job!” You cried, and Ellie looked like she regretted even opening her mouth, not that you really cared; it felt as though your blood was boiling. “I’ll cut the lights before he comes out for his bows, I don’t give a fu-”

“I know you’re joking, but honestly I don’t have the energy to talk you out of it,” Ellie tells you, and she leans back, out of the conversation, her gaze turning to the window as you fume quietly. She’s right, you wouldn’t actually do anything to jeopardize the show, but something about Joe just got on your nerves.

Each show goes off without much of a hitch, and for the sake of the sound operator and stage manager, who are sharing comms with you, you keep your complaints to yourself and focus on your job and enjoying the show. For the record, it’s very easy to enjoy the show; Joe’s even entertaining enough on stage that you forget how much he irritates you. He’s a wonderful singer, an exuberant performer, and the crowd and the rest of the crew love him.

But then comes the afterparty.

You’ve been drinking. He’s been drinking. You’ve had to listen to drunk, emotional Ellie gushing about how he ‘saved the production’. It’s more malicious than you intended, when you spit that he’s an entitled asshole.

“He’s not an asshole! That’s why people love him, okay?” Ellie fires back, expression defiant. She won’t remember this.

“Is that why you’re constantly defending him? Because you wanna bang?” You asked, scowling. Ellie’s expression fell, avoiding your gaze; she’s picking at the label on her cider, because she hates beer.

“I’m defending him because he’s transferring to this course next year, and I don’t want you scarring him off.”

Oh.

You find him by the bonfire, poking at it with a stick, expression contemplative. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence as you stand opposite him, by the fire.

“How was your first show with us?”

“Do you mean like, with the course?” He asks, frowning, “You’re not even in it, though.” He wasn’t even pretending like he wanted to make small talk with you.

“Yeah,” you forced a smile, “but the course is good, from what I hear, and I just-”

“You don’t need to make small talk, you can tell Ellie and the rest of them that I’m still joining the course. I know you don’t like me.” He added, and your mouth snaps closed, tone turning defensive.

“I don’t not like you-” but you’re cut off by his gentle laugh.

“Dude, do you think I’m an idiot?” He doesn’t let you answer, which your drunk brain wants to. He drops his stick into the fire and finally looks at you. “Don’t answer that; I know you don’t like me; that’s no skin off my nose. The show’s over.”

Silence hangs between the two of you; his gaze is so intense in the firelight, and for a moment you remember how handsome you’d thought he was at that first table read, before you’d known him.

“You’re talented, but disrespectful.” Tumbles from your lips.

“I’m fun, you’re just too uptight.” He laughs, but he doesn’t look particularly hurt by your words. In fact, he’s smiling. “You know this isn’t a professional show, right?”

“I- I’m used to-”

“No, I know,” he nodded, with a smirk, “I can tell. The way you hold yourself- you know you sound demanding when you’re working, right? Like you expect everyone to be on the same wavelength as you without even trying. They’re not. I’m not. This is fun; we’re not getting paid. We’re just trying to have fun.” He shrugs, before picking up the bottle of spirits he had by his feet that you hadn’t been able to see. “You should learn to have a little more fun.” He muses, before taking a swig of the alcohol, and offering it to you.

“I am fun,” you huff, taking the bottle from him and having a swig. It’s rum, cheap rum, and it burns, but you swallow it.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” he nods with a faux seriousness that makes it clear that he does not believe you in the slightest. You scowl, but take another sip.

“See, you’re still being an asshole.”

“You’re fun to rile up.” He shrugged, before grinning, “but I don’t mean to be an asshole... mostly. You just don’t like me, so everything I say-”

“I did like you, but then I had to work with you.” You pass back the bottle, and Joe actually laughs, and it’s such a genuine and lovely sound.

“Well then, maybe we shouldn’t work together again,” his smile now is much more genuine, and you feel your cheeks heat up, which you can’t entirely blame on the fire, “because I don’t like having you hate me.” He’s making his way around the fire now, standing beside you, looking at the flames as they’re beginning to die down.

“I don’t hate you.” You admit, bumping your shoulder against him. Joe laughs.

“I know.”

“God you’re cocky-” you scoff, turning to look at him, but he’s looking back at you, expectant grin on his lips.

“Yeah, but I’ve seen how you look at me.”

“With loathing?” You deadpan.

“Sometimes.” He agrees, laughing a little. Your heart beats a little faster, with the endeared way he’s smiling at you. “It’s so hard to make you smile when you’re in like, work mode, you know?” He muses, “you just think I’m an asshole.” That you have to agree with. “But when, like, a light hits just right, or someone mentions how hard they’ve been working, or-” he actually flushes a little as he ducks his head, “someone comes in early to practice, say, choreography on their own time? You smile so big, so damn big.” And the fact that he’d noticed, your expression turns surprised.

Oh. Everything he’s said or done over the past three months suddenly shines in a new light.

“You like me? That’s what all this was about?” You can’t help but laugh, wrapping an arm around him, and Joe snickers, nodding a little sheepishly. “Wait, does Ellie know? Is that why-?”

“Unfortunately she has had to listen to me complain about every time you give me a dirty look in rehearsals,” he sighed, and you feel embarrassment well up within you.

“No wonder she was so ready to go to bat for you,” you murmured, a little horrified with yourself, before turning to Joe, looking both mortified and apologetic. “We can never work together again.” And he’s never agreed to something faster. “I really did - do - like you, I just thought you were being-”

“I know, I know; you’re too professional for your own good, and I’m a fan of goofing off, and that just doesn’t mesh well. Professionally.” He clarified, and then paused, finally looking back at you.

“Professionally.” You agreed, quietly. Your smile is genuine and wide as you lean in to press your lips to his.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #BoRhap cast #borhap cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

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dreamsofbrightstars · 4 years

Text

Burn

I’ve had this in my back pocket for ages, waiting till I got a couple more chapters into Lost Summer and explained a little more about Cait before I posted it. Since that’s not happening (it’s coming along sloooowwwly), i figured what the hell. So here you go! Enjoy! On AO3, too xoxo

A little strong language and implied child abuse.

July

Cait inhaled sharply as she looked around the foyer of the old house. Sirius glanced over his shoulder. “Lovely, isn’t it?” he snarled, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He had been dreading coming back here ever since he had impulsively offered it to Dumbledore as headquarters.

“Mmmmmm,” Cait hummed vaguely. She had the unpleasant feeling that she’d been there before. She hadn’t, not awake anyway. But it was disturbingly familiar regardless. She already knew the turn of the staircase and the weight of the door handles. And the house elf heads mounted on the wall, she’d seen those before too. Even the smell of the house, hidden below layers of mildew and dust and age, was familiar.

September

The kids had been gone for a fortnight and the house was eerily quiet. She didn’t like it. The old house was creepy enough on its own with its heavy furniture and musty smell and layers of dirt and dust. The layers of not-quite dark magic that she could sense made it worse, almost like the house was fighting it. Sometimes is was a low thrumming, an undertone, other times a keening so intense she thought her head might explode with it. The kids had brought life and light, drowning out the unhappy hum of the house.

She’d tucked the sense that she’d been there before away in her mind that first day and tried desperately to ignore it, but it surfaced in the silence. She knew exactly where they were the moment they stepped through the front door, and no one had told her where they were going. She knew the heavy furniture and outdated wallpaper, the door down to the kitchen and the stair up to the sitting room, the gas fixtures and the awful row of house elf heads on the wall. She’d walked these hallways with him, over and over again, in his dreams.

Alone for a moment, she followed the pull of her mind, or of the house. She wasn’t really sure which. Padding softly down the stairs, she permitted her instinct to pull her past each floor, lower and lower into the bowels of the house. There was a cellar below the kitchen. Sirius didn’t like it when people went down there so they’d kept the door closed and hadn’t told the kids about it. No one had gone down, at least not that she knew about.

Thankfully the kitchen was empty. She didn’t want to be waylaid, or have to explain herself. The unassuming door was past the pantry. She could smell the musty dankness wafting up from behind it. The ominous feeling threatened to overtake her, to force her back, as she reached for the key. Ignoring the dread and Sirius’ warning to stay out of there, she turned the old key and pulled the door open, tiptoeing down the narrow set of wooden stairs, wand lit. Miraculously nothing creaked to reveal her indiscretion.

Standing still at the bottom, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the pitch dark. Her wand cast enough light to see the small stone room and the hallway that led away from it and the stairs. She crept along the hallway, trailing her fingers along the damp stone wall. She was afraid to touch it too hard, that her hand would sink and she would be stuck, or that the house would drag her in.

What waited at the end of the hall was equally horrifying and expected. She took it all in for a moment, processing the reality of what was in front of her. The stone cell was just as she remembered it: narrow, about the size of closet, with black metal bars the shape of snakes in place of a door. There was a single torch bracket in the hallway, placed conveniently for the jailers, but otherwise there was no light or air to the cell. She knew that the torch was extinguished unless Walburga or Orion were present. There was a hole in the ground for a toilet on one side and some balled up, decaying rags that might have once been a blanket in the corner.

The realization slowly washed over her, icy and mean. This was how he survived Azkaban. He’d had practice. She knew this, she’d seen it before. But she thought it was his mind designing a metaphor for the suffering. She didn’t believe it was real.

But here it was. It was real. They had kept him here, like an animal. The terror a small child must’ve felt sitting in the pitch blackness, hearing the key scrape in the lock and knowing no one could hear him crying or screaming, and those that might didn’t care, pushed her over the edge. The emotion she had bottled from being in the house, knowing how much he hated it and the understanding of exactly why, welled up in her and she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t keep it in any longer. All at once her knees hit the stone floor and she was half-screaming, body wracked with sobs. How could they? How could anyone do that to a child? They were monsters.

Vaguely she was aware of quick footsteps coming towards her. “Cait?” Arthur. “What’s happened?” She felt him slide his hands under her arms and pull her up off the floor. “What is this place?” he asked as he looked around, bewildered.

She was sobbing so violently she couldn’t speak. She wanted to scream it until her voice was gone so everyone knew what those monsters had done to their own children, but she could barely breathe through her fury. From two floors up, the familiar shrieks of “Mudbloods! Blood traitors! Filth! Desecrating the house of my fathers!” filtered down.

“That bitch!” Cait wrenched herself out of Arthur’s hands and tore back up the cellar stairs two at a time. She burst back through the kitchen and up the stairs to the foyer where Walburga’s portrait was shrieking profanities at Tonks, who was struggling to close the curtains. “No!” Cait yelled as she pushed Tonks away.

“You bitch!” she screamed back at the portrait, wand pointed at directly at it. “What kind of vile excuse for a human being are you? Who does that to their own children?” The rest of the portraits jeered at this. Again, she was vaguely aware of footsteps, of others joining them. She was too focused in her fury and disbelief to care who it was.

Momentarily shocked at being screamed back at, the portrait went silent. The painted image of Walburga Black looked down her nose at Cait, examining her as if she was looking at something disgusting. “So you found it finally, did you?” she sneered.

“What the fuck?” That was Sirius. His voice was distant, as if he was in another room.

“I found her in the cellar,” Arthur explained, panting.

Sirius eyes widened in surprise. “Love…” he started.

“Who does that?” Cait seethed at the portrait, cutting him off. “Why would you ever--”

“Children need to be disciplined properly,” Walburga answered coldly, the other portraits muttering their agreement.. “There’s nothing like a bit of solitary confinement-”

“That’s enough!” Sirius stepped forward, reaching for the curtains.

“No!” Cait grabbed his arm with surprising force and pushed him back. He could see her now, heaving chest and tear-streaked face. “How could you, you sick bitch! They were children! They were your children!” She was screaming again, bits of spittle flying from her mouth.

“Children require a firm hand,” the portrait shot back coldly. “We weren’t firm enough, as you can see by this disgraceful mess, this abomination, that claims to be my son. He’s an embarrassment to the House of Black, a stain on it’s proud history…”

Cait’s rage broke over again and she couldn’t hear her anymore. “Shut up, you horrifying excuse of a mother, of a human. How dare you!” Her own voice was distant now. She could feel Sirius trying to pull her away at the same time as she could feel the magic welling inside her, the separate pool that dreamers absorbed. It had only grown since she’d been in the house, absorbing the magic Molly cast to cook and clean, the practice spells visitors cast, and the residue left in the house itself. She could feel the wands of the others being drawn and pointed in her direction, but her eyes only saw the horrible portrait in front of her, mouth still moving with vile words, but she couldn’t hear it.

“You fucking cunt. Shut. Up.” Her hair had begun to streak violently with so much white she was nearly platinum, and move of its own accord, as if it were being buffeted by a breeze. The portrait’s mouth was still moving. Someone pulled Sirius away, saying “Stand back, mate.”

“SHUT. UP.” But the portrait didn’t stop. Cait didn’t know what she was saying, just that she’d had enough of this foul thing on the wall. Her ears were ringing and she was still sobbing, and the magic threatened, like the terror earlier, to overwhelm and sweep her away.

“Don’t burn the house down, Cait,” a voice called. Tonks. She’d forgotten Tonks was there, that her friend was the most recent target of the portrait’s vile tirade. The magic tingled at her fingertips.

“...his life is a complete waste, a betrayal of everything my family stands for, the shame of my flesh…” Walburga’s tirade drifted back into Cait’s ears, wiping away the last bit of control she had. Burn, she thought. The raw magic ripped out from the tip of her wand directly at the portrait, taking every bit of seething hate Cait could direct at it. Her hand shook as she struggled to control it. Burn. The magic did her bidding, focusing only on the portrait, and it began to smoke around the edges.

The woman in the portrait laughed maniacally, laughed because this little blood traitor sobbing like a child wasn’t capable of harming the portrait she had so carefully charmed. The laughter cut through the ringing in Cait’s ears, bringing an icy calm to her fury.

Burn, she thought again. As the portrait began to shrink slowly from the outside in, the painted eyes widened in surprise. The painted image began to scream in panic, increasing Cait’s rage. She wants sympathy after what she did to her own children? Cait thought incredulously, tightening her grip on her wand, which was growing hot in her hand. She let the magic coarse through her, watching the portrait smolder and shrink from the edges inward, watching Walburga’s body shrink with it, clawing wildly at the edges of the canvas as if she could stop it, shrinking until all that was left was her incredulous face as Cait forced the last bit of magic at it, obliterating the last vestiges of the evil hag from existence.

Silence filled the foyer. The magic had obeyed her will, had only burned the portrait. All that was left was a streak of black soot up the wall where the portrait had been just minutes ago, and slightly smoldering curtains. The acrid smell of burning oil paint and canvas filled her nostrils. Cait was aware of her own breathing, panting from the effort of controlling the release of that much magic and the heart-wrenching discovery that preceded it, sweat and tears mixing on her face. She swayed slightly and dropped to her knees before collapsing face down, gulping down air, eyes closed. She rested her forehead on the mildewed carpet, trembling. The tears flowed quietly now, her energy completely sapped.

“Everyone out,” Sirius barked. The sound of footsteps faded quickly away as everyone retreated, leaving them alone. He sat down next to her on the floor and pulled her up, cradling her gently against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m s-sorry I went into the cellar.”

“Shhhhh, it’s alright.”

“I kn-knew, but I didn’t think it was real.” Her voice quivered with emotion. “I didn’t think she really did that to you. How could she? She’s supposed to love you, protect you. How could she lock you up down there in the dark?” She was wavering again, unable to control the emotion.

“Shhhhh, I know.” He held her there for a long time, arms wrapped tight around her, tears flowing down his face. The display of fury on his behalf, directed at the person he hated most, that she knew what no one else-not even James- knew, opened up a well of emotion within him. That was how a mother should behave, how his mother should have behaved. A real mother would have never allowed his father to start locking them down there, wouldn’t have done it herself.

And she wasn’t revolted by him. She wasn’t looking at him as if it was his fault, that he deserved to be locked down there, the way his mother did. There was revulsion and fury--he’d never seen her that angry--but not at him. He’d never experienced that kind of love. Euphemia Potter had probably loved him that way, or close, but his angry, wounded sixteen year old self couldn’t recognize it at the time. This certainty that he was loved, that this small woman was trembling from exhaustion in his arms because she loved him unconditionally, elated and terrified him.

“How did you know?”

“I saw it, when you were falling apart in Azkaban the first time.” He looked at her in surprise. She’d never shared this. “The first time I had to intervene in your dreams I f-found you there, in that cell. She was there too, guarding it. Taunting you while you were curled up in the corner rocking back and forth, holding those dirty rags over your head and crying.” Cait was sobbing again. “You were flitting between a really small boy and a man, b-begging for her forgiveness and pleading with her not to extinguish the light. I had to duel with her to drive her back where she belonged in your subconscious. But I thought the cell was just your subconscious creating some sort of metaphor as a substitute, or mixing your cell in Azkaban, not that it was actually real, here, in this shithole house.”

“I could feel it when we arrived,” she continued. “I knew I’d been here before. Not really, of course, only in your worst dreams. But it was all familiar, the kitchen and Kreacher and the tapestry. All of it. I’ve been trying to ignore it, but it’s like the house is keening. Like it wanted me to find it. It’s so loud now that the kids are gone…” Another heaving sob cut her off.

“Love, please. It’s alright,” he crooned as he stroked her hair. “It’s alright, Callaghan.” There were so many nights he’d done the same for Regulus, cradled him and soothed his cries after he’d been released from the cellar for some minor infraction typical of a small boy. It didn’t take much for their mother to lock them away for hours or, in her worst moods, days. Days locked in the dark with nothing to eat or drink. Occasionally Kreacher would appear at the bars offering some snide remark, then slink back into the darkness.

They both jumped at the gentle knock on the door to the kitchen. Molly Weasley pushed it open, a tray hovering in front of her. “I thought you could use a cup of tea,” she offered quietly. “Arthrur took the liberty of adding a bit of brandy.”

“Th-thank you, Molly,” Cait stammered, reaching gratefully for one of the two large mugs. Molly handed the second to Sirius and disappeared back downstairs. They leaned back against the wall opposite the scorch mark, sipping their tea and gazing blankly at the wall.

“I suppose we could get rid of the curtains,” Cait offered after awhile. The brandy--Arthur had a blessedly heavy hand--had steadied her. Now she was just bloody exhausted.

“Mmmmm,” he agreed, waving his wand and silently vanishing them. He looked at her with a sly grin. “Maybe the house didn’t want you to find that cell. Maybe it really just wants to be redecorated.” Cait nearly spit her tea across the foyer as they both dissolved into laughter.

#Sirius Black #cait callaghan #lost summer sequel #arthur weasley #molly weasley #12 grimmauld place #tonks #sirius x oc #burn #order of the phoenix

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skizmin · 6 years

Text

Ravenclaw Seungmin

(my sweet sunshine i hope i can do you justice)

Genre: fluffy as FUCC yo, seungmin is a precious baby, he’s book smart then falls in love and has nO fuckin idea what to do, ugh hes so cUTe, confident til you (my lovely gender neutral reader) come along type shit lmao sue me

Words: 6330 holy shit

A/N: alrighty so i put some more effort into this one bc apparently yall didnt appreciate my woojin one (lookin at you you well rested hoes) and yeah. for the love of coke please stop sleeping on woojin and seungmin it hurts my heart.

this all sorta starts in the middle of exam season

seungmin is lowkey stressed

okay possibly highkey stressed

especially when his friend hyunjin drags him out of the study hall to go see some quidditch game

“hyunjin seriously i need to study”

but hyunjins carrying seungmin over his shoulder screaming about something called stress relief and fun

but anyway, here seungmin is in the stands very begrudgingly

thinkin about that lil song he made to remember how to pronounce that one pet hair expelling spell lmao

when he sees you

he knows you of course, always coming extremely close to his top mark in all his classes

once, in second year, you even beat him in defence against the dark arts which seungmin felt a bit down about for 3 weeks but also he knew you had an immense interest in jinxed plants which was the topic of half of the test

rip seungmin

anyway, he’d always sorta just ignored thinking about you unless it was his competitive side coming out

for real once he almost gave up studying for a divination in class essay but was reminded you were in that class and just nYOOMED to finish his final draft

he only ever really thought about school anyway, much to the dismay of his friends who for once just wanted to get to know him more and take him out to hogsmeade or something

okay so anyway, hes in the stands and he sees you

he doesnt exect you to be there lol like

you study just as much as he does, right?

not only are you there, but you arent even watching the game

youre in it

seungmin chokes on his motherfuckin pumpkin juice

hes all

W-WHAT

NO WHAT

HOW

hyunjin looks at him like wtf bro

seungmins just

“Y/NS IN THE QUIDDITCH TEAM? BITCH? WHAT??”

hyunjins like what???? ohhhh y/n?? dude theyre like one of the best chasers in the damn school

seungmin just looks from hyunjin to you (trying to intercept a pass from the other team) with wide eyes

“seungmin why do you look so shocked? do you know them?”

“yeAH THEYRE THE ONE THAT BEAT ME ON THAT TEST ONCE”

“hmm? what in second year??? dude you have GOT to let that go.”

but by now seungmins not even paying attention to hyunjin, he’s watching you speed past with the quaffle and scoring almost effortlessly

seungmin had never really paid much attention to quidditch. now much at all

aside from happily congratulating his friends on their most recent win and smiling brightly along with jisung when he begins screaming about the new chudley cannons line up

seungmin never really followed the world cup or anything

he simply decided when he was sorted into ravenclaw that he would dedicate himself to his studies

and he struggled to get the grades he does even though felix’s favourite thing to say to him was “all you do is study”

but he was proud of his grades

seungmin never really paid much attention to quidditch

but now? watching you?

your house colours billowing behind you as you smiled to a teammate, listening to their instructions on your next course of action.

he was mesmerised

wholly?? fully?? mesmerised??

he didnt know why but his heart sort of ached

he thought, why would he feel like this?

he understood though that he simply felt completely and utterly inferior to you

hes fine with being inferior to you in terms of quidditch, he doesnt play quidditch

rarely has flown a broom actually, unless necessary

but in terms of school work?

he genuinely set his soul to do that

he’s wholly dedicated to studying to achieve the almost record grades he has

and you?

you were right behind him

dont get him wrong, he doesnt think you dont deserve it, not at all. he would never say someone doesnt deserve recognition for their hard earned work.

he was upset because, honestly?

he saw how often his friends practised their quidditch skills. the team practise, individual practise, game plans, codes, flying methods, opponent studies

all of it

it was very nearly the same amount of time he spent studying.

and his friends?

he remembers the time his friends minho a few years back struggled to scrape by a pass due to his commitment to the sport. even with copious amounts of tutoring that drove him into the early hours of the morning so often

the stress ate away at him. it was a particularly busy year for slytherins team and he was on high demand. the lack of interest in school kicked in after his grades began dropping

it wasnt a good time, not a good thing to witness. eventually he passed purely on all nighters full of cramming before exams

all his quidditch playing friends struggled to get above average in their grades, no matter how enthusiastic they were about learning and magic

how did you, who was on par with their skill, manage to follow so closely behind him whilst studying?

of course, he was prefect, but that consisted of simply once a week meetings and helping younger students with school related things. sometimes an odd counselling session here and there and some advice on how to handle situations

but that took up rarely any of his time

not nearly as much as quidditch would

he felt sort of empty, like he had lost some kind of purpose.

how was he going to deal with this? how was he going to deal with the fact that you were so so so far above him in all ways possible? the one thing he fully applies himself to is now meaningless to him

he wants to be better

“minnie?? the games over. y/ns team won.” hyunjin called from beside him, nudging him with his shoulder

“ah, right.”

hyunjin furrowed his brows at seungmins down attitude but shrugged it off because

it be like that sometimes

ya’know??????

fast forward to one week later and seungmins friends were getting increasingly more worried. why?

his usually immaculate notes were empty, he went straight to bed instead of studying (yet the bags under his eyes were dark and prominent. one of his dormmates reports to jisung that he has been sleeping quite fitfully.), he sat for hours on the weekend in the study hall tapping his quill on the table but his paper remained blank

hell, he hadnt even borrowed a new book from the library after finishing his most recent read

it was at this point jeongin forced hyunjin to confront seungmin about it

“so uh, whats up?”

“huh? oh nothing just chilling.”

“no i mean recently, youre acting odd.”

“o-oh?? (worm)”

“yeah, so you okay??”

“definitely, just busy sorting something out.”

hyunjin smiled and left seungmin be at that

seungmin realised that was the last straw, he was going to do something about how this affected him

so the next day, after classes ended, seungmin made his way to the library. after that he walked down to hagrid’s, their groundskeeper and teacher of magical creatures’, hut. then after that he walked up to the hospital wing.

when he returned to the great hall and jisung asked him where he had been, he just smiled and shook his head

what had be been doing?

volunteering.

volunteering to help at the library and help madam pince 5 nights a week every fortnight, volunteering to help hagrid tend to the animals and feed them and give them exercise every sunday, and finally, volunteering to run errands for madam pomfrey for 5 nights every other week and to tend to small injuries that can be handled with a simple muggle first aid kit if thats what the student would like

anyway once his friends found out what he had done they were very happy!! and confused??

and also worried

seungmin had aways had this habit of overworking himself

,,,,

okay so 3 weeks later he was in the library volunteering

pushing a trolley full of misplaced books up the isle while yawning widely

he thought he was doing pretty well. he was more than confident on the two exams that had passed during the time he spent volunteering n stuff

he walked along, still yawning occasionally, blaming it on the warm cozy feeling of the library late at night

but he jumped as he felt a tap on his shoulder and whipping his head around so fast his neck couldve snapped off

and then he saw you, looking nervous as you twisted your fingers together in front of you

he swore he couldve melted right then and there

wait?????? what???????

“u-uh, hey! um. yeah madam pince she-, she told me to ask you. ask you where to find a b-book that is! ha. haha.”

seungmin watched as your face got red and his heart sorta swelled?????

“oh! u-uh yeah! sure! which book?”

you smiled at him widely, relieved you hadnt asked the wrong person. “magical mediterranean water plants and their properties???”

seungmins heart stuttered

he had never really paid much attention to you before he saw you on the quidditch pitch, thinking of you purely as competition. but recently

god, recently he couldnt stop thinking about you. your face. your smile. your laugh, remembering the rare times you would joke around in class.

was this what it was like to have you smile at him?

he would fetch you 1000 books if he got to see 1000 of those smiles

oh my oh my was his heart beginning to beat faster and faster

“o-okay, uh- follow me?” he turned around quickly and began walking. he’d memorised the library way before volunteering anyway, madam pince getting sick of him asking where books were every second day

he walked up 3 isles and turned right, walking up the middle before tugging out his wand from his robes and softly flourishing his wand

from a high shelf, a black leather book floating down gently, seungmin extended his hand to grab it before passing it to you, cheeks red

“is this it?” seungmin already knew that was the book you were looking for. he read it last term to jog his memory before a herbology test

fUCK THERE WAS A HERBOLOGY TEST COMING UP RIP SEUNGMIN

anyway

“yeah!! seungmin, right? thank you so much.” you shyly smiled at him

“u-uh yeah!! just um, ask me for help if you need it and you see me. y/n, right?” god his brain was a mess

“of course!! well, i’ll see you around yeah??”

seungmin nodded, cheeks getting slightly redder

and with that you walked away, cheeks equally as red as seungmins and hands clasping tightly around the book he got for you

anyway, in the next week you and seungmin sometimes exchanged small smiles and waves but nothing more

you highkey wanted to talk to him but you were too shy so

it was okay bc he was shy too so

but anyway, you had been in your care of magical creatures class, talking to your professor as you attempted to befriend a porlock

(a small horse guardian thing that doesnt quite trust humans)

anyway, simply you got onto the topic of how hagrid could possibly look after all his creatures constantly to which he replied with a smile and

“well theres a ravenclaw boy that helps me now. seungmin. do you know him? he helps me care for all of them every sunday.”

you furrowed your brows, it couldnt possibly be

“kim seungmin?” you questioned

“thats the one!”

you smiled, saying you knew him before getting lost in your own thoughts.

didnt seungmin already volunteer at the library? maybe that was a one time thing. right????

surely he wouldnt be volunteering at two places at once. thats impossible

not with his grades, he couldnt possibly keep up. how much overworking would that be?

you were taking out of you thoughts with a sharp stinging pain on your wrist

you looked down to see your porlock obviously angry and trying to escape the calming hold you had on him

hagrid noticed you gasp and his eyes widened as he saw the blood trickling down your arm

“oh no! are you alright????”

“i’m fine! just got bitten is all.”

“here let me take the porlock, you should get yourself to the hospital wing. the last period bell is gonna go anyway so take your bag too”

you were stunned at your professor being so panicked

“im sorry its just ive filled out three incident reports in the last week”

you laughed, tugging your satchel over your shoulder and holding your wrist with your free hand to stop the bleeding somewhat

you greeted you friends goodbye before climbing up the grassy hill to hogwarts on your way to the hospital wing

as soon as you reached the castle, chimes came loudly from the bell tower above

you groaned, you knew you had quidditch practise in half an hour so you began to speed walk through the halls that were filling quickly with students

reaching the hospital wing you pushed the big oak door open, searching around for madam pomfrey

“excuse me?”

madam pomfrey popped out from behind her desk

“oh! y/l/n! im just about to head out on an emergency. some kid ate sat on a firework from that pesky store. is it serious?”

“uhhhhh, no?? i can patch myself up.” you smiled at the frantic nurse

she nodded and walked passed you, calling out as she rushed through the door in a hurry

“the kits on my desk! and if kim seungmin shows up tell him i dont have anything for him to do!”

you smiled quickly to her before she was gone

wait a minute? seungmin? what would he be doing here???

anyway, you walk up to her desk and drag out the first aid kit

you knew how to use a first aid kit

you were Cultured

anyway you were looking for something to dress your arm, you found a big ol’ dressing with all that sticky shit

bitch yes

anyway as you were struggling to open the dressing up, the gigantic oak door opened suddenly and you almost dropped the dressing you were holding to see a panting seungmin

your eyes widened as he crouched over and spoke

“madam- madam pomfrey im so” large breath in “sorry im late i just-” another pant “a student asked me where vectors office was and-”

he finally stood up, eyes widening when he saw you

“o-oh! y/n? whatre you doing here??”

“uh, porlock.” you replied dumbly. not thinking enough to elaborate bc wow kim seungmin was right there looking gorgeous n shit

“porlock?????? the animal??????” he furrowed his brows

you nodded and suddenly remembered what the nurse had told you

“oh! uh, madam pomfrey is out right now but she said theres um,,, nothing for you to do???” you asked him, sounding unsure to whether or not you heard her correctly

seungmin furrowed his brows “o-oh.”

you looked away, and began fumbling with your dressing and spoke up again “do you help out here too?”

“uhhh. yeah, i do.” he replied somewhat awkwardly

“hagrid said you help him as well. do you get any rest?” you asking, sounding exasperated

but like,,,

low key lmao

“oh uh. yeah i try my best i guess.” he sounded so??? nervous???

“wait! y/n, let me do that. its what im supposed to be doing anyway” seungmin sheepishly says as he walked up to you

oh god what now???????? uh???????? seungmin very possibly touching you and being that close??????? uh??? a bitch is scared for their health but shhhhh

“n-no! its fine!” you mumbled back, suddenly very shy under seungmins gaze

“y/n you cant even get it open, not to mention your arm and hand are still covered in blood.”

he had a point

“oh. right.”

seungmin moved you over to one side of the table as he pulled out a bowl and a washcloth from one of the cabinets next to it.

he mumbled a soft aguamenti, creating water from his wand into the bowl, smiling in accomplishment

then he dipped half of the cloth into the water and wrenched it to get the excess water out

“can i uh- can u have your arm??” he stuttered, suddenly realising how close you were, cheeks dusting pink

you held your arm up for him and he started wiping at the blood on your skin, you didnt actually mind the cool feeling of the water at all.

you decided to use the awkward silence to have a little conversation with him

“why do you volunteer so much?” you questioned

seungmins movements halted for a second before he started cleaning your arm again

“no particular r-reason. i-, i like it?” he replied, not meeting your eyes

“why do you sound so unsure?” your pried, wondering why exactly the question was difficult for him

“im not unsure!” he assured you, taking a glance at your face finally before dumping the cloth in the water because he was done

“alright i guess”

“i uh,” he started whilst ripping open he package to the dressing, “i didnt know you played quidditch.”

you were surprised by this, everyone knew you played quidditch

“oh! really?? i thought it was obvious.”

he began placing the dressing on your wrist, trying to make sure there was no crinkles in the plastic sticky part

(yes i dont know the actual term for it fucking SUE ME)

“ah, i dont really pay attention to quidditch so.”

“oh. how’d you find out then?” you were curious as to how he knew if he barely knew you and didnt even like quidditch

“hwang hyunjin, you might know him, hes in our year. anyway he dragged me out to watch and you were playing so.”

“ah right. hyunjin’s the slytherin right?”

“yup!”

cue: silence

seungmin was smoothing out the dressing on your wrist

“y-your robes...” seungmin started, picking up his wand from the desk and mumbling a short “tergeo”

suddenly your robes grew warm and the blood siphoned off of them cleanly into seungmins wand

you were now comfortably warn in your robes as you went to pull your sleeve down before seungmin stopped you gently with his hand, checking the dressing was on properly one last time

you shivered at the feeling of his cold fingers, and decided to return the favour of hhim helping you

pulling out your wand, you muttered a soft incantation of a heat charm, pointing your wand over seungmins hands that adorned a pink hue due to the cold of the water earlier

“oh my god thank you” seungmin practically groaned, rubbing his hands together in front of your wand

you laughed quietly at him, finding his satisfaction amusing before he looked up to your face and realised, blushing a deep shade of pink

okay imma keep it real with you chief

you liked seungmin a lot

idk he just??? made you feel so giddy. your stomach like,,, dipped when he smiled at you n stuff

i mean you werent the only one,, there were heaps of people in your year that fawned over the smart boy. hard-workers are always the most popular like come on

but you sorta just knew there was no chance between the two of you and you were perfectly happy being friends with the boy. his friends always hyped him up a bunch like he was some kind of god

you definitely agreed he was good company, even when you two werent necessarily comfortable around each other yet

but anyway, seeing him standing there blushing in front of you made you uwu SO HARD

and you were glad he knew you from something you loved, that being quidditch

wait

fuCK QUIDDITCH PRACTISE YOU ALMOST FORGOT

“seungmin!! im so sorry i have to go!! i have inter house practise!!”

seungmin’s eyes widened a little

i mean yeah you had to go to practise but like also

that was the first time???????? you’d said his name to him???????? excluding the time you asked him if it was in fact his name but like

oh my god seungmins blush got even darker because he didnt know he could like how someone said his name but he definitely likes him name 20 times more when youre saying it and and youre smiling and running out of the infirmary and waving to him and its all too much like his heart rn??? dead. his brain??? he doesnt know her, it turned to mush

seungmin walked over to one of the beds in the hospital wing and sat down, sighing

he was so fucked

,,,,,,,,

“you’re friends with kim seungmin right?” you questioned jisung as you waited for the rest of the schools quidditch players to exit the change rooms

“yeah!! we’re close actually. why?”

jisung was always so excitable and held such confidence in everything he did, he was comfortable to talk to

“oh nothing, i just ran into him at the hospital wing is all”

“hospital wing? he’s still volunteering there??”

you furrowed your brows, “yeah??? is something wrong????”

jisung sighed, scuffing his boot along the grass of the slowly filling pitch and tossing his bat up into the air before catching it nonchalantly (imagine being That Cool)

“yeah. he’s been overworking himself way too much lately. he used to only focus on studying but he’s trying to fit in all this helping staff out and he looks so tired all the time.”

looking back you do remember seungmins hair being a bit more dishevelled than usual, and under his eyes was a little bit darker

“why though? i mean its nice he is but like, he doesnt need to?”

jisung nods thoroughly at you

“thats what we all said! he wont tell us why he’s had this sudden change in heart though.” jisung pouted and you laughed lightheartedly at him

“oh well, he’ll come around right?”

,,,,

he didnt

its been 3 weeks since your conversation with jisung and you can guarantee seungmin was overworking himself to the max

he came into astronomy studies late and ended up falling asleep the other day. it was one of the easier classes to fall asleep in of course due to the whole jinxing the ceiling to look like a nights sky in a dark room n stuff but like still

seungmin never was late to class

seungmin never fell asleep in class

lately youve noticed him turning up to morning classes barely on time, tie askew and hair a complete mess

you’d find it cute if you werent worried for his health

okay you did find it cute but YoU weRe sTiLL WoRRieD

anyway, so it was one day in herbology theory when he fell asleep again

sprout wasnt too happy but let him sleep anyway bc like. if you can sleep through her basically screaming explanations to the class due to her half deafness than yeah, you probably needed it

at the end of the class you packed your things and saw seungmin still peacefully sleeping at his desk and you frowned lightly

so you decided to let him sleep but you sat at your table for a while, using spare parchment and a scribing spell to copy your notes for him

after it was completed, you left it on the table next to him with a bottle of pumpkin juice you were saving for later, your eyebrows still furrowed

why was he overworking himself?

sighing, you just left, deciding it was creepy to be there for so long

anyway, that night you went to the library to find a book you needed for your ancient runes course test

you didnt really expect anyone to be there so late (it was almost curfew, you were forgetful)

and it sorta slipped your mind that seungmin volunteered there until

“need help?”

holy fUCK he scared you like boy you cant go sneakin up on people in an almost empty library and speak loudly like that

anyway so you violently flinched away and he started laughing whilst apologising profusely

you smiled bc he was cute adalsfafrfpi;fef seungmin omg stop

but yeah once he was done, he reiterated “sorry, but is there any book youre looking for?”

“uhhhhh yeah, ancient runes made easy??” you sorta felt dumb saying it out loud but oh well, you needed to pass this test

“follow me then!” seungmin led you out of the tall shelves confines to the middle corridor before delving into another set of shelves, this time he didnt pull out his wand to get the book down, instead he simply reached up and plucked it from the shelf

“here you go!” he handed it to you, it was indeed the book you were looking for and it was in mint condition. not surprising as basically no one took the ancient runes elective rip

you mumbled a thanks, cheeks sorta going a bit red as you stared at your feet because like

kim seungmin

(thats a phat mood btw)

“oh! i almost forgot!” seungmin started, dipping his head down a bit to try and catch your eyes. when you looked up, he smiled

“uh, thanks for what you did today. you know, the notes a-and the pumpkin juice and stuff.”

you watched seungmins cheeks get pinker as he went on

you were full on uwuing at this point

“its okay! really!” you blurted out like omgkimseungministhankingme

suddenly it fell into an almost awkward silence between the two of you

shoes shuffling on the ground and cheeks red

“um, what do you need help with in ancient runes? im all caught up. i could explain something if you want?”

and thats how you ended up on one of the large library tables after curfew with special permission from madam pince

seungmin legit took 15 minutes to explain some stuff to you but now yall were just chillin (in cedar rapids)

you began talking about nothing in particular really

seungmin asked about your quidditch, you asked about his volunteering which he brushed off almost immediately

seungmin and you felt like time didnt exist as you kept talking and talking

you subconsciously moved closer to each other until your thighs were touching

seungmins speech had slowed into a comforting lazy slurring of words, his voice getting heavier with the need for sleep. you felt the same though

his eyes stayed intently on you, even with his cheek in his hand as the conversation slowed to a pleasant silence

you yawned, a hand coming to your face. you knew you should go to bed but you didnt really want to at this point

you looked at seungmin to see him softly smiling at you and your heartbeat picked up. your obvious feelings for him going crazy

“youre really pretty y/n” he mumbled lowly, you almost didnt hear him

of how you wished you didnt hear him because now you were a mess, heart thumping in your chest and red creeping up your neck to your face

how do you reply to that? you were stumped for words honestly

seungmin didnt seem to mind though as he smiled wider, sitting up straight and stretching his arms over his head

“wait here, ill go put out the lamps and we can walk back”

you barely nodded, face still red as seungmin climbed from his seat to wander around, blowing out the candles lighting the library

on your walk back, it was silent. it was comfortable though and seungmin didnt seem to mind your lack of response to his compliment that still had your mind reeling

seungmin waved bye to you as you parted ways, smiles on your faces

seungmin didnt study when he got into his dorm room, falling face first onto his bed and falling into a deep sleep almost immediately

,,,,

waking up, seungmin first realised he was late, only 30 minutes of breakfast left

and then, the memories of seeing you last night flooded it

mid throwing his covers off of his body, he groaned loudly, how on earth had he said that

his cheeks got red just thinking about it

this was a crisis. he dragged on his uniform and grabbed his satchel and sprinted the whole way to the great hall

once he made it, he spotted his friends at the hufflepuff table and dashed to them

“i have a problem”

jisung, hyunjin and jeongin looked up towards seungmin

“what is it?” jeongin asked, eyes lighting up with curiosity. oh did he love seeing his friends suffer

“so i was in the library with y/n last night”

“waiT Y/N THE ONE YOU” hyunjin started before jisung harshly elbowed him in the side

seungmin loves jisung

“yes, shut up hyunjin. anyway i was really tired and not thinking straight and i called them pretty and they didnt even respond im so ashamed”

jeongin started laughing, hyunjin smiling along whilst rubbing the sore spot of his side

seungmin groans and stomps his foot, not happy with the lack of support from his friends

jisung tosses him a sympathetic look, “your problem man, i cant really help.”

seungmin pouts but sits down to eat anyway

,,,,,

okay so its been 3 days and seungmins worried

like seriously

whenever he tries to talk to you your eyes just widen and you walk to other way before he can even get a word out

whenever he passes you in class or in the hallways, he prepares a smile only to be met with you ducking your head to look at the ground as you speed past him

his small waves in class seemingly go unnoticed

but he knows you dont hate him

how? simple. youre still leaving him notes and treats every time he falls asleep in class

so what does he do? like any other desperately in need boy he hatches a plan.

today last period you both share astrology. he’s simply fake falling asleep and confront you whilst you left him the classes notes

seungmins game plan didnt really work tho bc he actually fell asleep like a dumbass

it was last period astrology and seungmin was lying on his books, passed out

the bell rang and you went through your normal routine, copying your notes which included your immaculately drawn sketches of the constellations you’d studied that day

you waked over to his desk and placed them next to his head, the corner of a page accidentally bushing his nose and you like,,, froze

bc he twitched and scrunched his nose up which wouldve been so cute if you werent terrified of him waking up

you put down a cauldron cake as well once he went back to looking peaceful and frowned bc

“seungmin why don’t you rest more?” you whispered

he exhaled deeply in his sleep and a piece of hair fell into his face, subconsciously you went to brush it away and carded your fingers ever so lightly through his hair

but then you halted bc like

wtf thats super creepy

you quickly turned to leave b-but uwu cliche

seungmin grabbed at your wrist yO SEUNGMINS DAINTY ASS FINGERS CURLING THEMSELVES AROUND YOUR WRIST IMAGINE

anyway

you squeaked and turned back around bc wtf it scared you

and seungmin was just sitting up now, arm outstretched grabbing onto yours, eyes wide and hair a fucking cute mess

you were like uhhhhhhhashlfbfkacbsdcbigev

“uh, dont run away, please?” seungmin said, super duper shyly aw hes so CUTE

you like just,,,, shakily nodded at him

seungmin smiled lightly and let go of you, climbing out of his set in lightning speed to stand in front of you

“i uh-, i just wanted to ask why you’ve been avoiding m-me i guess” seungmin started and you cringed

bc this was hella awkward like no

seungmin cut you off before you could say anything tho with a

“bc like if its because i called you pretty and stuff im so so so sorry i didnt mean to make you uncomfortable at all and i feel really bad bc i shouldnt have said it and i was really tired and my judgement wasnt the best and i accidentally made things awkward between us and i dont want that and i just feel really really bad like you dont even have to forgive me or anything i swear”

he said all that in like, under 15 seconds. eminem who???

anyway your eyes just went wide as you processed his words n n you lowkey got a bit emo when he said he said it bc he was tired n stuff n just :^((

“why dont you get enough rest seungmin?” you said blankly

“w-what?” seungmins heart rate SKY ROCKETED

“why dont you get enough rest?”

“uh-, i just um,,, i do get e-enough rest!” he was like, nervously laughing

“no you dont, you fall asleep in 40 percent of your classes.”

“i-, i uh-” “why can’t you tell me??” you questioned, eyebrows furrowing at his anxiousness towards the question

“its uh-, its sorta embarrassing” he replied, looking ANYWHERE but your eyes

“is it bad? did you get into trouble or something?”

“nO! god no!”

“then it doesnt sound that bad to me.” oooh go y/n hold ur ground bub

“uhhhh” seungmin sighed, defeated “okay ill tell you.” you just hummed in response and waited patiently

he exhaled loudly and stared blatanly at your feet before beginning

“i uh. you play quidditch really well and- and you also get near all my scores on tests and stuff and i just felt. idk, dumb or something so i wanted to prove to myself that i could do extra curricular sort of stuff like volunteering and still g-get top scores i guess.”

once he finished he looked into your eyes and you were like ????? what the fuck

you were so confused,,, he was volunteering bc you played quidditch and got good scores???

“seungmin i dont work nearly as hard as you do”

his eyes widened “what do you mean! yes you do! you’re like, on par with jisung and he practises religiously!”

you laughed a little and seungmin furrowed his brows

“seungmin, jisung is muggleborn. whereas my older sister is captain of the tutshill tornados. i dont need to train that hard in quidditch” oh seungmin

the pooor boy

after you made that comment seungmins face just went BRIGHT red lmao

“uhhhhh,,, uh,, uhhh” he didnt know what to say

“anyway seungmin, i suggest you take a break and get some rest so you dont keep saying things accidentally” you said, adjusting your satchel strap on your shoulder and preparing to leave

“what?? acidentally???” seungmin said, preventing you from leaving “you don’t mean me calling you pretty right bc like. i meant that” okay but how was seungmin now so confident especially when he said that

“w-what?” you said, red going ALL over your face lmao like everywhere

“i meant it when i called you pretty i just. i know there was a better time to say it probably” seungmin started getting shyer now like his ears going red he was so cute

‘you think im pretty????????” you were so confused like. kim seungmin?? the kim seungin? thinking youre pretty??? you discreetly pinched yourself, checking this wasnt a dream

“d-dont say it so forwardly like that!” seungmin exclaimed

“you said it forwardly first!” you laughed back at him, ngl you were feeling a little giddy

seungmin just sorta sunk back into himself, feelin super duper shy

your face got even more red as words tumbled out of your mouth before your common sense could stop you

“f-for the record, i-, i think you’re pretty too”

oh my GOD

1) y/n sweetie thank you for telling seungmin this for all of us

2) yoU JUST CALLED SEUNGMIN PRETTY AND NOW HIS EYES WERE WIDE AS FUCK

HE SQUEAKED

HE MCFRICKIN SQUEAKED CAN YALL IMAGINE

he brought a hand up to his mouth in surprise and by this point you were like

too shy to do anything lmfao

so you sorta just looked down at your shoes bc wow all of a sudden your black leather school shoes were immensely and intricately beautiful

not

anyway there was a bit of silence as seungmin regained composure and you were way to embarrassed to say anything at all

but then

but thEN

get ready omg

you dont even notice but suddenly seungmins right in front of you and he’s leaning toward your face and and hes

hes kissED YOUR CHEEK

oh my GOD his cute ass lips just came in contact with your cheek, as quick as lightning but of my god it was worth it

your head whipped up and you gasped

seungmin stood there with an inCREDibly nervous look on his face and his eyes prompting you to respond

like,,,, in any way. pls y/n do something

your mind was fuzzy and the low swooping feeling in your stomach compelled you as you stepped impossibly closer to seungmin, yours and his cheeks radiating a magnificently bright red glow

and you kissed him

thanks again y/n for doing the world a good deed

you sorta squeaked afterwards and went to leap back bc seungmins face was suddenly too close and you were embarrassed and nervous and and

oh my god your heart was beating louder than ever jesus

but before you could leap back, seungmin was wrapping his arms tightly around you, hugging your body and preventing you from distancing yourself from him

his breathing was rapid as his mouth found home near your ear to stutter out a question that would make you squeal if it werent for the fear your legs might give out

“w-wanna go on a-, a date with me? maybe?”

as soon as seungmin felt you nod against him (you didnt trust your voice rn lmao) he smiled, easing into the hug more and essentially melting his heart with yours

uwu

hope you liked it!!!

622 notes · View notes

barpurplewrites · 6 years

Text

Common Appetites

Today’s grisly tale was born from @a-monthly-rumbelling non smut prompt.

This one is gory with descriptions of blood injury and cannibalism, (I bet you can guess which RC character stars) Enjoy, but read with caution.

-x-x-x-x

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

A hulking shape stepped out of the shadows at the back of Thomson’s Barbershop. The weak light from the streetlamps glinted off a tooth and the edge of a knife. Barney sighed and backed up against the locked door of his shop.

“You really don’t want to try this pal.”

“And what is a short arse like you going to do to stop me?”

Barney knew exactly what he was going to do, the problem was he had no idea what his damn cursed luck was planning. The mugger stepped forward and Barney turned on his heel and scarpered down the alley.

The alley behind the shops on Main Street was perfectly straight, but filled with obstacles; the dumpsters, the boxes that the grocery store had out for recycling, and the bicycle that the pharmacist still hadn’t got repaired. Any of them could be a hazard, even the wobbly slabs were capable of sending a man sprawling to his doom.

None of these caused the wee accident Barney knew was about to happen. A sickening screech of metal and a wet gurgle stopped him. It took several shaky breaths before he was ready to turn around.

“How the fuck did that happen?”

The now very dead mugger was still standing and would have looked threatening with his arm raised over his head brandishing the knife. Would have been threatening if it wasn’t for the rusted ladder of the fire escape that had dropped and impaled him, pinning his arm to the top of his head. Barney edged closer and swallowed bile when he spotted the sharp end of the ladder sticking out of the man’s gut.

“Oh, fuck. Fucking hell. Fuck.”

Barney was terrified. Again. You’d have thought after all this time, he’d be used to this sort of shite. But no, here he was out of breath and feeling like he was going to puke his guts up, with a would-be mugger standing six foot away from him.

“I’m sorry pal. I didnae mean it. Yer were just waving that great big knife around and I panicked.”

If he wasn’t so much of a coward he would have stood and took the beating, or even the stabbing the man wanted to give him. It might not have been that bad, and there was a fair chance that he would have lived to tell the tale. Instead he’d run, knowing full well that it wouldn’t end well for the mugger.

“I’m cursed, you see. It was my Ma, she was the killer, I just had bad luck, but it’s all gotten so much worse.”

He’d thought his luck had changed. The police hadn’t even looked at him for the deaths after those four coppers topped each other in the woods. Then old Mr Henderson had passed away of natural causes and left him the barbershop and a tidy lump of cash. For the first time in his life Barney had felt free. He’d sold the shop and moved to the States, thinking a fresh start would do him the world of good.

For six months good had been an understatement. His shop was doing a roaring trade, he’d made some friends and was even enjoying a wee bit of flirting with the librarian. Then some dumbarse rumour had started that the comb cleaning fluid was a great high. It was shite of course, but late one night some desperate sod had barged into his shop and tried to hold him up. It had gone down just like it had with Wullie; Barney’s scissors sunk into the robber’s chest, and a dead body on the floor.

Of course, he didn’t get away with it quite as clean as he did with Wullie. He’d have given anything for Charlie to have blundered in, but his luck was an evil bitch. What had walked through the door and found him standing over a bloody body was proof that his mother hadn’t been the worst monster lurking in the world.

After that his bad luck returned in force. For the past six months he’d counted himself lucky if he made it a fortnight without killing anyone. This bastard had broken his current streak at nine days. Barney was tempted to kick him in the shin.

“You’re a fucker, you know that?”

A wee part of Barney’s tattered soul told him he could call the Sheriff. It had been an accident after all, there was no way that anyone would think he’d forced the ladder through the man’s head. In fact, whoever own this fire escape would cop it, because they’d let the ladder get into a bad way. He could call the Sheriff. He should call the Sheriff. He wouldn’t. He dialled a monster instead.

Calhoun picked up on the fourth ring; “Good evening Barney. Let me guess there’s been another wee accident?”

“Aye. A mugger. It’s a right mess.”

“This can’t keep happening, Barney.”

A cold sweat broke out on Barney’s brow; “You ain’t gonna help me then?”

He didn’t want to threaten Calhoun. The man was bloody terrifying, but he would if he had too. After all he knew where all of Calhoun’s skeletons were hidden, he’d helped him lug them to cold storage.

“Of course, I’ll help you Barney. I’ve never fed so well as I have these last few months.”

Barney shuddered. There would be no point threatening Calhoun. There was very little left of the bodies he’d helped move. The sick bastard ate them. Wendigo he called himself. How the fuck had Barney’s life come to this?

He was so wrapped up in contemplating his miserable existence that he didn’t notice a pair of blue eyes watching him from the window of the library.

-x-x-x-

Ives strolled into his home and dropped his jacket directly into the trash. Getting the blood out of something that cost so little was too much effort. Besides ‘Mr Calhoun’ was a very rich man. He’d been feeling a touch nostalgic when he last updated his identity; it had been a very long time since he’d used the name of the unfortunate priest, but it was an easy one to answer to, almost like slipping into a comfortable pair of slippers.

He poured himself a drink and smiled. Barney Thomson was a walking disaster; painfully awkward but a master of his trade. Ives appreciated a barber who didn’t blather on while wielding scissors or razor, and Barney took quiet while plying his trade to an extreme.

Very little scared Ives these days, but realizing he recognized Barney had given him pause. From what he recalled of the caustic way Cemolina had spoken of her son he doubted that she would have mentioned their little arrangement to him, but caution was wise. In his own way he rather missed the old whore turned murderer, she’d supplied him with fresh meat for a few months before his wanderlust had made him move on again and had been the closest thing to a friend he’d had in years.

After ascertaining that Barney had no idea who he was, he’d decided to eat him. A little tribute to dear Cemolina who’d always said her son was a terrible waste of space. Ives chuckled to himself as he recalled that night six months ago when he’d followed the junkie into the barbershop. He’d fully expected to either have to finish Barney off, or simply pick up his body after the junkie had killed him. It hadn’t turned out like that and Ives was oddly very pleased with his new arrangement.

Fate had chosen a strange plaything in Barney Thomson. He was either the luckiest bastard to walk the Earth, or the most unfortunate bugger under Heaven. He didn’t appreciate how what he referred to as his ‘bad luck’ had rendered him damn near unkillable. Ives certainly wasn’t going to tempt whatever forces surrounded Barney, no matter how tempting it was to carry out his plans to eat him occasionally. He couldn’t help but wonder if the man’s good fortune would pass to him via his flesh.

Ives finished his drink and strolled into his study. Putting Barney’s curious talent to one side for the moment, he had a small problem of his own to deal with. Someone was stealing from his larders. He’d suspected Barney at first, thinking the man had decided to take the limb or two as insurance. He was far to squeamish to be eating them, but being able to throw the Sheriff a bone, as it were, would be a plan if the focus of the law turned upon him.

He’d dismissed Barney as a suspect. The man was petrified of the Sheriff and turned in to a stammering mess if she so much as wished him good morning. Setting the cameras up in his larders had been a calculated risk. There was a chance that the CCTV feeds could be hacked and then he would be in very hot water, but he needed to know who he was dealing with.

As he settled down to watch the feeds the cat that had adopted him finally deigned to grace him with its presence. He scratched it’s furry head and said; “What do we think, Puss? Whose been pilfering from our supplies?”

The cat just purred at him. Ives had expected to have to spend a long night waiting for a glimpse of his thief, but in less than an hour there was movement on the screen. The cat grumbled its displeasure as he leaned forward to peer closer at the image.

“Well, this is certainly surprising.”

Of all the people he’d considered, he’d never once thought it would be the little librarian raiding his larder.

“Miss Belle French. Whatever are you up to?”

#halloween house of horror 2018 #Barney Thomson #Ives #Belle #blood and gore

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sunriseoverseauniverse-blog · 6 years

Photo

The world just chewed her up

And spat her out.

I always get myself into these situations

I’m just being honest here

It’s a classic feeling signature and behaviour of mine

No thanks to any of the people who twisted the knife

Yup, thats you grandma, and whoever ( the fuck ) else

Ooops using that fucking g word again

Trying to transfer the blame on someone else

My poetry is starting to suck

Cause it’s really just nicely placed words

Venting my timely swings

Into dark places...

Calling it:

I’ve had a full on fortnight

Sick, work, new job, money stress

Child not drinking or sleeping stress

All the usual suspects for an exhausted parent

Wait what the fuck I’m not a parent?

It’s really taxing being the one hearing the toddlers cries

Knowing that you aren’t the one with the milk tap breasts

The smells, genealogy and presence of their mother

That would calm that crying child in an instant...

Who is the only one they will eat for, drink for, sleep for... just about

I am a good stand in mother

But imagine having that much presence in another child’s life

Taking the pressure of trying to fill their needs

When you aren’t the one who was biologically tuned to do so

I love what I do

I really do and I would take this shit any day over any other work

But when they are crying for mum

Well, I’m just not their mum.

It’s okay

It just takes time to form bonds right?

If it didn’t it wouldn’t be right

You can’t hurry love... understanding... feeling comfortable with someone

Children need the love

Parents need the space from loving

Nanny’s need....

A BIG FUCK OFF COFFEE OKAY

Like, today would have been good. It used to be my little fluffy comforter, coffee

It still is my trusted friend

In small doses

I’m basically Lor

I like to believe I live in stars hollow.

We made a breakthrough today together

Me & the wee one year old cherub I care for

She is such a strong stubborn self lead little cherub

She just makes these screechy noises at me, trying to tell me stuff

I put her in the car, drove to the beach and around for ages

And then, holy shit, she fell asleep and STAYED asleep for 40 minutes

It was a christmas fucking miracle

It is the first fortnight I’ve been working��

But some of those days have been mentally challenging

I came home with tears of joy whatever I don’t know

Tears of endurance of frustration of inadequacy for not having the right nipples

Tears about money stuff

Getting through

Feeling like I have some worth

Paying for my own health care appointments Whatever other plans I have made

Fighting back the tears

Again

The stress of all this change

Feeling for me

Cause it’s my job too

Can be full on, it seems

Lucy ran through the house with muddy paws this arvo

It was the icing on the cake

The cherry

Sarcastic but really she is my

Cherry

She came into my room just now

To give me a little snuggle

Probably saying mama thing I hate it when you cry

It’s cool baby badger

Crying is one of the many ways to release

I read a cool article on it today about the healing power

Of babies crying in the arms of a caring loving adult

It’s a healthy response

It is made to be held, seen, heard, recognised as valid

If your baby needs to cry, let it cry in your arms

It’s perfectly fucking healthy to cry

It’s WAY better if it can be done with someones presence

And I mean, just their conscious presence, approving, accepting

Being here with you

Especially for children

But I just do it alone mostly

Cause people tend to freak out with the water worx

Probably scared of their own displays of feelings

I’m used to it I’ve been doing it for years

I even used to tie up the door to the bathroom

Where I would be crying

From a very young age

Because we don’t have locks in our house

Because I was raised without being allowed valid boundaries

Lol fight me

I’m just being honest

Act like you got some sense

I’m sorry Mrs Jackson

I am for real

Okay there’s my humour coming back

I’m glad to be free to speak

That’s why I write things

I don’t care if anyone reads

But maybe they will and it will mean something

That’s cool too

The universe is a funky little pumpkn

Especially with the platform of technology

I can reference shit with an inbuilt link

Would have been handy for my essays back in the day

Look I just want to be able to meet my needs

Like every human should be able to do

That’s why I want to care for children

Help them get their needs met

I honestly get it, parenting is FULL ON

I get why kids grow up without their needs being met

Because not every one can mind read or translate screeching

But I feel like I’ve been raised to figure out how to MEET NEEDS

My own, and then others, children, whoever I can influence

In fulfilling ways really

I guess that’s the goal

To lead

Be my own

Wahine Toa

Filling my needs has meant money

Which has been a tool which I cast out of my shed

From a very young twisted age

When I was made to feel ashamed

For having money and choosing how to spend it

Thanks again to the dicks that taught me this

Is she still bitter about this or?

Lol, jokes make it better for five seconds

The story is long but in short basically I fucked it all up

When I bit my brothers ass cause he stole my toy

Which, yeah, fair enough, I fuck shit up if things are unfairly taken from me

Then my grandma who is dead now ( cool ) had forsaken me

Then would refuse to treat me well for the rest of my life

Neglect me and shit, ridicule me and instil the classic shame

For being my great self ya know

Barbaric really

Then write me poetry about how creative I am

Like, bitch please

You can’t unfuck with my life now you realised it was a dick move

Those bridges are burnt bitch

Wow, vent vent vent

Has to be said? Mmmm maybe in a less cunty way but that aint me today

So yeah money is a thing I am learning

Thanks to the past conditioning

It’s a universal blockage so I’m not half surprised

I would really love it in my life

So I can love and care for myself

So I don’t have to depend on people who can’t do that for me

Let alone, themselves right!?

Think we’re all learning this right?

So how do you learn to do money?

Well... find the energy that attracts it instead of repels it

Learn to use it wisely for future benefits

Learn to keep the river flowing constant abundance in and out

To you and through you

Hibernate in the winter, keep like squirrels collecting them nuts

Not just for the now time, for the winter

But if you collect too many and leave them to rot that’s not a flowing river

So it’s about learning the skills, how to use the tool for abundance

The dance with life we all are worthy of

How have I committed to this?

#1: Decide to stop doing shitty stressful jobs that don’t fulfil me and provide for me in equal abundance of energy exchanges, preferably looking for work with perks that I love and with downsides that I am not too bothered by.

( I decided upon home based one on one childcare because it’s a nurturing job for me and for the world in order to help people and help myself thrive )

#2: TRAIN OR GET EXPERIENCE OR PREFERABLY BOTH.

(I did my qualification in Nannying, it took 6 months and it was free, it was one of the best most nourishing fulfilling loving moments of my life so far, thank you)

#3: Get your foot in the door.

( for me, this meant, get an in between starting job which paved my way in order to look forward to and manifest the perfect job to begin my career with )

( it was part time, it was full on, it was amazing because it gave me experience and a reference, it was fun, it had some perks, it also sucked sometimes but it was the perfect launching point... )

#4: Get through the period of time where you may not be earning or you may be earning very little, before you find the perfect work conditions that give you what you are so worth earning in exchange in order to sustain and fulfil your life.

( yup, currently amidst this point, it is hard so hard at times for me, it is mentally consuming and emotionally breaking but it is the deep lesson about the squirrels collecting nuts for the winter... you need not so much that they will rot, you need just enough to get you through without meaning a period of starvation or you need to hiberate like bears. you just have to do whatever you can to get through this phase... its okay to ask for help, just ask people who you can trust to actually care about you and love you and support you, not people who have shown you that it’s conditional or that they actually can’t do this for you )

#5: Eventually, you will be in a cycle of river flowing freely and replenishing you all the time and life giving energy in abundance to you and through you. This is the place we all want to be with our work where we love what we do even on the hardest worst days and we are fulfilled with abundance in all areas of our lives, especially given equally abundant exchange of money to provide for our lives and our desires.

( I have found the job, the conditons are right, I am working through the moments of stress and I am most of all waiting on those steady free flowing river pay checks of abundance... don’t get me wrong, I also need to learn how to be best with my nuts so that is the next step. I just so hope I can do so this time around because I don’t want to go through periods of starvation of my needs when it is so taxing and mentally emotionally crappy... I suppose though all of those pent up feelings had to come out somehow because I wouldn’t have ever had money blocks if they didn’t exist. Purging the blockages from your system is all part of the transformation here. So, I guess, I’m glad to be deep in full learning )

I just wish to feel better

To rewrite the feelings signatures that were assigned to me

When I was just a young zero years baby

So I guess the path is set...

I’d like to see my needs met.

#needs #home based childcare #emotions #new job #feelings #stress #self expression #crying #baby #kids #vent #poetry #kind of #personal #music #squirrels #save for a rainy day #hibernate in winter #coffee please

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