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strangersmunsons · 3 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 5 Prompt: Love Notes 💌 ~ 2,300 words Eddie writes you an anonymous love note. it doesn't go according to plan.

Dear ____

I hope you’re not too weirded out by this. To be perfectly honest with you, it seemed like a really good idea when I saw this pink paper in the art room and swiped it, but now I’m not so sure…

Ah, fuck it. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? The pen has been put to paper — I might as well nut up and finish the job.

I really like you. I think about you all the time.

You don’t know me, but we had a class together two years ago. And on the first day, when I was still fresh off a jilt by a different girl, you came in and sat down. I didn’t think much of anything at first; you were just another body in the classroom, and I was wallowing in self-pity, nursing my metaphorical wounds. But as the minutes passed, I found myself glancing over at you — at first just once, then again, and then again, and then I was staring, and all I could think was: she’s really beautiful. And then I couldn’t stop looking.

Day after day I’d watch you in class and in the hallways and anywhere else you and I happened to be occupying the same space. I still do. There’s just something about you that keeps drawing me in. You seem so genuinely good and kind, like you would never hurt anybody, not even a guy like me. But I still can’t bring myself to approach you, because I look at you, and then I look at myself, and I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved that way, by someone as perfect as you. I can’t take the leap no matter how badly I want it.

I have dreams about you. I dream about what it would feel like to hold your hand, to put my arms around you, and to feel yours around me. If my subconscious is feeling particularly indulgent, I might get a kiss. But mostly in these dreams we just exist together, which feels like the most unattainable fantasy of them all. They’re the sweetest dreams to have but the worst to wake up from.

I’m not sure why I’m confessing this all to you now. Everyone else is sending each other candy grams and roses; I suppose it means I’m not as immune to this Hallmark-conspired holiday as I thought. If nothing else, I hope this gives you at least an inkling of how wonderful you are, in case you ever had any doubts. You’re a sweet girl. Anybody would be really lucky to be with you. Especially me.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Deliberately omitting his signature, Eddie sets his pen down and stares at the paper in front of him, rereading the fucking novel he just wrote you.

See, now this is far too much.

Cheeks violently red, he slumps over the table in embarrassment. God, he sounds like such a serial killer! He can’t give this to you, no way. Even if it is anonymous.

…can he?

On one hand, you might find it touching. On the other hand, you might find it both disturbing and grossly predative.

If it’s truly any one thing, it’s honest — Eddie has spent the past two and half years being completely and utterly infatuated with you. He’d call it love, if he’d ever said a single word to you. But instead he’s camped out here in the library during his lunch period, spilling his guts out all over this cotton-candy pink paper, with no intention of revealing his identity.

He sighs, and with nimble fingers, folds the paper into a shape that resembles a heart. Tucking the love note into the pocket of his vest, he wrenches himself away from the table and stalks out of the library. His expression is sour; to the outward observer, he looks mightily pissed off, although what he’s really experiencing is a fierce combination of ambivalence and humiliation towards his own actions. You’d never guess that his heart is thumping wildly against his chest as he speeds through the empty hallways, getting closer and closer to your locker, still uncertain of what he’s going to do when he actually gets there.

But he knows that if he’s going to do something, he needs to do it now, because lunch will be over in mere minutes, and then everyone will start pouring out of the cafeteria.

133…134…135…there it is.

Eddie stares at your locker as though in a trance. He fishes the note from his pocket and simply clutches it in his fist, mind racing.

Can I? Should I? If she’s disgusted she won’t know it’s me. No. No. Maybe I shouldn’t. Bad idea. BAD. Or maybe…I should…

“Whatcha got there, freak?”

A beefy arm shoves him violently from behind, knocking him to the ground. His fingers automatically close around the note, instant panic setting all his nerve endings on fire.

No. Oh God, no.

He quickly tries to haul himself back to his feet, but he’s outnumbered. Two jocks pin him to the ground by his arms, thwarting any desperate punches he might have swung. A third yanks the note from his hand, smoothing out the meticulously-folded paper he’d poured his soul onto.

There’s a roaring in his ears, but it’s not enough to completely drown out the bell ringing in the distance. Then the student voices start floating down the hallway, alerting Eddie to the fact that, not only is he about to suffer greatly at the hands of these meatheads, but he’s unfortunately also going to have an audience when it happens.

The third jock holding the note reads it silently, a slow, evil grin splitting across his face. He starts howling with laughter. “Shit, Munson! I mean, I figured you’d be desperate for pussy, but this? This is a whole new level of pathetic.”

“Give it back!” Eddie snarls, desperately trying to free himself.

The third jock doubles over, cackling, then reads aloud in a nasally, mocking voice, “I have dreams about you…”

One of the goons pinning Eddie down snorts, and loosens his grip. “Hold up, I wanna read it —”

Eddie, sensing his chance, breaks out of their grasp, and makes a move to snatch his note back. Before he can, the third jock crumples it into a ball and tosses it over his head to one of his friends; Eddie makes a wild grab for it, and misses.

High school students start to trickle in, drawn to a fight like flies to honey, crowding at the edges of the scene.

The four boys play a game of Eddie-in-the-middle, the onlookers puzzled but intrigued, watching the mysterious paper whiz back and forth through the air. Growing angrier by the second, fed up with the childish antics, Eddie finally stops trying to catch the note. Instead, he cocks his fist back and lets it smash into the third jock’s nose.

There’s a collective “oooh!” from the mass of students. Eddie and the jock scuffle, both now determined to fuck the other one up as badly as possible. One goon steps in to help his friend, while the other scoops the wadded-up paper off the floor, so he can finally skim the content of Eddie’s heart for himself.

And then suddenly, the most devastating thing of all: the asshole is hollering your name over the din.

For the first time ever, Eddie finds himself hoping that the bully he’s fighting actually kills him. Because death would be better than this.

“Where’s she at? She’s gotta hear this — hey, guess what! The freak is in love with you!”

Eddie wheels around in horror. The other goon grabs him from behind, rendering him motionless again, but it barely registers. The crowd has parted like the Red Sea, everyone stepping aside to make a clear path for you to walk through. You approach nervously, looking completely bewildered as to why you’re being summoned. Eddie wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

The goon thrusts the paper out to you. “Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” he sneers.

“More like a stalker,” the third jock interjects, voice thick from his swollen nose. He steps in front of Eddie and gives him a bloody smile, flexing his hand menacingly. “Hold his face steady for me, would ya?”

“Stop it!” you shriek suddenly, snatching the paper without bothering to look at it. “You’re such assholes!”

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Principal Higgins has finally decided to do his job, it seems. He marches through the crowd — “Get to class, all of you!” — and pulls the two boys apart.

“My office. Now.”

He corrals the four boys down the hallway, towards the office, as the other students scatter about, flushed with excitement. None of them cast a backwards glance at you, head bent, reading the crumpled note with a furrowed brow.

An hour later and Eddie’s finally trudging his way through the parking lot.

He’s been sentenced to three days’ suspension. The guy he clocked made it out with one after-school detention, which he’ll most likely get out of due to basketball obligations, and the other two got off scot-free. Principal Higgins’s reasoning was that Eddie, because he’s the only one who did any ‘real’ damage, should get the worst punishment.

Sure, he threw the hardest punch. But the idea that any of those three are suffering worse than he is right now is downright laughable.

The hot, bitter embarrassment of it all is making his skin itch. There’s a lump in his throat; he can feel the start of angry tears prickling in his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he starts driving — the last thing he needs right now is an excuse for one of Hawkins’ finest to pull him over. God knows how much they love doing that.

“Eddie!”

He doesn’t turn around, rage and shame making him want to disappear. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, or ever again, probably.

“Eddie! Wait!”

A light hand caresses his back, then curls around his bicep. He whips around, already on the defensive; you flinch backwards at his aggressive stance.

As soon as he sees that it’s you, all the tension in his body dissipates. His eyes widen and his lips part in shock; his skin becomes dead-white, then bright red in the span of about four seconds.

“I’m sorry,” the words tumble out of his mouth. “For the note — for everything. You weren’t supposed to know it was me.” He stares down at his feet, unable to look at you.

“Did you really mean it? All that stuff you said?”

Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Well…yeah.” He rubs his clammy forehead with his hand in distress, heart rate spiking again. “I’m sorry, you probably think I’m the biggest fucking creep, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to give it to you —”

“I don’t think you’re a creep.”

Eddie falls silent. His eyes finally flit up to meet yours, and he’s surprised to find that you don’t look…angry. Or repulsed, or even annoyed. Your gaze is soft, the corners of your mouth pulled slightly down in a worried frown. You look concerned.

Is that for him?

“You swear you weren’t playing a joke on me?” you ask.

Eddie starts, taken aback. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do something like that to you, ever. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

You nod slowly, seeming to believe him. You swing your backpack off your shoulder so you can unzip the front pocket, and pull the dreaded love note from inside. Eyes roaming the paper once more, a small smile appears on your lips. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.” Then your expression turns more serious, and there’s a slight tremble in your voice. “And I’m so sorry that those jerks did that to you. That was terrible. But you don’t have to be embarrassed about me reading it. I love the note. Thank you for writing it.”

He can scarcely believe this conversation is happening. He’s thought about you standing in front of him like this for years — imagined what it would be like to have you look at him and really see him, the way you do right now. Now that he’s living it, it’s almost too much for him to handle.

You hesitate, like you’re unsure of what to say next. “Um, to be honest, I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

“How could I not?” he says dazedly. The notion that he might not know who you are is absurd to him.

You shyly avert your eyes, like you’re overwhelmed by the praise. Pressing on, you tell him, “You did get one thing wrong, though.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to elaborate.

“I’m not perfect — certainly not too perfect for you to come and talk to, or — or ask out. I think you’re a good guy.”

Is there air left in his lungs? It doesn’t feel like it. “Oh,” he manages faintly. He’s too scared to say anything else, that a single incorrect word will break this spell.

You give him a gentle smile. “So…are you busy right now?”

Eddie hides his shaking hand behind his back, blushing furiously. “No, I’m not busy right now. Actually, um, I’m not even allowed back here for the next three days, so…yeah, I’m — I’m pretty open.”

You nudge his arm playfully. “Do you wanna go do something?”

Even through his leather jacket the contact makes his skin tingle. “Yes!” he practically shouts, then lowers his volume. “Sorry. I mean, you read my note. So you understand that this is kind of a big deal for me.”

You laugh, and not unkindly.

“Well, let’s get going then. We have a lot of time to make up for.”

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #we're an hour late! sorry bout that

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silverskye13 · 2 months

Note

what if, mayhaps, some awkward only one bed with guish and hels?

"I mean, I can just walk back to the house, it's fine." Tanguish said appeasingly, trying not to wither under Helsknight's unamused glare. "It's fine."

"You're going to walk back alone. At night." Helsknight lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

"I mean, it's hels." Tanguish said, scuffing a foot against the ground. "We don't have a day-night cycle."

"We have times where everyone but the thugs and thieves are asleep," Helsknight countered.

"Then I'll sleep on the floor?"

Helsknight gestured broadly around the normally sparse little room. It was a cluttered mess at the moment. Paper, fabric, and sewing supplies tangled with armor and polish in piles across the floor and on the little desk and table, the evidence of a long day spent designing Helsknight's next tournament outfit. It was the reason for their current problem: working far too long into the late (early?) hours. Helsknight's cell had a single bed for just this sort of thing -- which had worked well enough before he'd met Tanguish, and they'd become mostly inseparable.

"Let's lay chivalry, and the fact that you're my guest, aside for a moment," Helsknight snorted. "Where exactly on my floor do you plan on sleeping, pray tell?"

Tanguish felt his ears grow hotter with embarrassment. "I'll... Find someplace. You can't tell me you have absolutely no guest rooms down here?"

"We have absolutely no guest rooms down here."

"Helsknight."

The knight shrugged. "You make a cell when you move in. You leave an empty cell when you go. But it's still your cell, and not a guest room. You wanna pick an empty room and risk the owner coming back while you sleep, feel free. Or you can share the bed."

"Share?"

Helsknight huffed disdainfully. "I'm chivalrous enough to keep you off the floor, not enough to take it myself."

"Doesn't that go against your tenets or something?"

"Surprisingly, my Saint doesn't give two shits about sleeping arrangements." Helsknight flashed him a wolfish grin. "Ask me a question about blood, and I'm sure I can find an answer."

"I'd rather not," Tanguish sighed witheringly. "I just feel bad. It's your bed. You shouldn't be uncomfortable all night just because I'm too lazy to walk across town."

"Point of order, I'm too lazy to walk across town. You offered to." Helsknight clarified, kicking aside a bundle of cloth to clear some walking space to the bed.

"True."

"And you're tiny," Helsknight continued. "Be more concerned about my likelihood of kicking you out of the bed, and snoring in your ear."

"You don't snore?"

"How do you know?"

"We live in the same house?"

Helsknight gave that statement the amount of consideration it deserved (which wasn't much) before sitting down at the foot of the bed and unbuckling his boots. "Do you have a preferred side you sleep on?"

"You're incredibly casual about this," Tanguish observed. He would've been amused, if he didn't think the situation was so awkward. He gave the room one more hesitant look around, as though salvation or a second bed might somehow be found in a corner he hadn't checked yet. When it didn't, he sighed and started unbuttoning his vest.

"I mean, I've crashed with other Colosseum folks before," Helsknight shrugged, discarding one boot onto the cluttered floor and starting on the next. "Especially when I just signed on, and my cell wasn't built yet."

"Oh."

"And I crashed with EB once or twice when he wasn't doing well," he continued, as if to prove a point -- which he probably was. "Worst case scenario, you get the worst sleep of your life, and then it's over, and you're back on the couch tomorrow."

Helsknight tossed his second boot against his first. Then he slipped off his shirt and clambered into bed, content to get comfortable while Tanguish picked his way across the room to the light switch. Tanguish flicked it off, casting the little cell in a hazy half-light, lit by the dimmed lights in the hallway beyond. He stood there for a moment, waiting on Helsknight to give some input about whether the door should be shut or not, and when none came, he left it open and picked his way back across the room.

As gingerly as possible, scared of somehow slipping and elbowing Helsknight, he clambered into the bed. It was very small, and very close. Tanguish wouldn't normally mind (he was also very small, compared to Helsknight) but he was suddenly very aware of how much space wasn't between them. Helsknight radiated warmth like a fireplace, and Tanguish's skin tingled at the almost touching closeness of it, an anticipation. Which was ridiculous, because Helsknight had touched him before -- ruffled his hair, grabbed his hands or arms, put a guiding hand on his back. It was just the oddness of knowing they could touch for no reason. Not a means to an end, or a showing of momentary affection, or a guidance. And it was made worse by the fact he was so small, and he could feel the bed dipping in Helsknight's direction, like if he wasn't careful he would go rolling into him, and that would be weird, right? Helsknight probably wouldn't want them to be squished up against each other. He'd be uncomfortable, and Tanguish would be uncomfortable, and neither of them would get any sleep.

"Tanguish."

"Uhm... yes?"

"You're fidgeting."

"I am?" Tanguish froze. He realized he'd been picking at one of his knuckles, and his tail had been twitching.

"Yes. You are."

"Ah."

"Just breathe, close your eyes, and go to sleep."

"Right."

Tanguish let out a long breath that Helsknight echoed. He closed his eyes. He opened them again. He closed them again, tighter this time. He felt the heat radiating off of Helsknight, so close it made his skin prickle. He felt an itch suddenly spring to life on his ankle, livewire hot and uncomfortable. He wrinkled his nose and stifled the instinct to scratch it, until on reflex his leg twitched, and then he held his breath, waiting on Helsknight to say something about it. Then he sighed and opened his eyes again

"I don't like that the door is open," Tanguish spoke into the silence.

"If we close the door, it'll be pitch black in here," Helsknight groused tiredly, as though Tanguish woke him up. Had he really fallen asleep that fast?

"But anyone could just walk in."

"And if they do, they'll trip on the sewing kit, face-plant into armor polish, and then I'll put a knife in their face."

"A knife?"

"There's one stuck in the bed frame on this side."

"Why?"

"Why not? Go to sleep."

Tanguish realized he was fidgeting again and forced himself to stop. His tail twitched, and he forced it to stop too. He frowned at the open door. He must have frowned very loudly, because suddenly Helsknight sighed and got out of bed. "Switch me."

"We don't have to--"

"Doesn't matter, we're switching."

Feeling his face heat up with embarrassment, Tanguish did as he was told, shuffling over to take Helsknight's place on the bed. It was very warm. The heat left behind from the knight's skin sank into his muscles, almost down to his bones. It felt nice, like curling up beside a furnace -- until Tanguish remembered he was always cold, so his side of the bed would probably be frigid and uncomfortable. Before he could say anything about it though, Helsknight had clambered in to take his spot. He settled in, slipping an arm beneath the pillow and raising an eyebrow at Tanguish.

"Better?"

"Uhm..." Tanguish hugged his arms close to his chest awkwardly. "Shouldn't you... face the other way?"

"I always sleep on this side. If you're uncomfortable, you turn around."

"But this is the side I sleep on?"

"Unfortunate," Helsknight said, in a voice that implied he really couldn't care less. "I guess you'll have to just close your eyes and go to sleep."

"You're insufferable."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

Helsknight shrugged, and apparently decided the conversation was over. He stubbornly closed his eyes, and did his best impression of someone who could sleep through an earthquake. Tanguish scowled at him. He turned over onto his other side and tried to go to sleep there, only for discomfort and habit to force him back onto his other side again. He'd sleep, or he wouldn't, or he'd slip into some half-lucid place that was neither. Eventually. For now, he watched Helsknight.

(He wasn't trying to be creepy. It's just that there was nothing else to look at, and he needed to do something besides fidget uncomfortably. He intermittently prayed that Helsknight wouldn't open his eyes and catch him staring, and prayed that watching the smooth, even breaths would somehow inspire sleep in himself.)

Helsknight was backlit dimly by the hallway light beyond, a very gentle halo that defined the strands of his long hair, the contours of his muscles. He somehow managed to look serious, even when he was trying to (succeeding at?) sleep. It was probably just the scars. One of the Demon's claws had slashed between his eyebrows, giving him a look of almost permanent concentration that only lifting his expression dispelled. It was interesting to see where the claws skipped his eyelid, carving a divot on the ridge above his eye and resuming on his cheek, a long, angry line. Tanguish dropped his gaze lower, where more pale scars collected around his shoulders, striped and crossed their way down his arms. There were a few on his chest, a few more that vanished beneath the blankets on his stomach and side. Tanguish found himself drawn to one, a puncture just below his ribs on one side, only a little smaller than the span of his hand.

"What are you doing?" Helsknight asked, breaking the silence so suddenly Tanguish flinched. Then he realized he'd been reaching a hand out to touch the scar, and he crossed his arms tight to his chest, suddenly mortified.

"I'm sorry!"

"You're always sorry," Helsknight muttered sleepily, not opening his eyes. "I asked what you were doing."

"I-- nothing. I was just--"

"Not sleeping."

"Not sleeping..."

Helsknight cracked one of his eyes open to look down at him in something like tired amusement. "Your hands are cold."

"Th-they are." Tanguish agreed, fixing his eyes down on his crossed arms.

"I could feel you close by."

"S-sorry."

Helsknight sighed. He reached out a hand and gently grabbed Tanguish's wrist. His hands were warm. Tanguish could feel it sinking into his joints, every fingertip seeping a soft radiance through his skin. The coldness of the rest of Tanguish's arm by comparison raised goosebumps down his arm. Helsknight gently lead his hand to the scar he'd been reaching for and pressed it against him. His nose wrinkled and he inhaled sharply.

"Very cold."

Tanguish bit down another apology. Instead he asked, "I did this one?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Uhm... sh-should I feel... lucky?"

"Lucky?"

"You have a lot more scars on your arms than here."

Helsknight made a noncommittal noise. "Survival bias."

"What?"

"Someone cuts your arm, you live," Helsknight explained, cracking his eye open again. "Someone gets your chest, your neck -- the vital bits -- you don't scar. Not unless someone's quick with a healing potion."

"... oh."

"That was a compliment."

"It... was?"

"Mm-hmm."

"... how is that a compliment?"

"You did a good job," Helsknight smirked. "Both at the stabbing part and the healing part."

"... uhm... thank you? I guess?"

Helsknight grunted and released his hand. Tanguish recrossed his arms.

"Is that one also a knife...? A knife wound? It looks the same. Similar?"

"Which one?"

Tanguish reached out a hand hesitantly and, when Helsknight didn't stop him, traced a scar with the tip of his claw where it dipped by Helsknight's collar bone. The knight shivered. Tanguish snapped his hand away.

"Sorry!"

Helsknight laughed, a soft rumble that Tanguish thought he could feel all the way down in his toes. He took Tanguish's hand in his again, sword callouses scraping against his knuckles, and let it rest over the scar.

"If I was bothered, I would say so," Helsknight informed him with tired amusement. "It's from a sword. Punched through my chainmail."

Tanguish ran his thumb across the little divot. He tried to imagine the size and shape of the blade that would have left it, but came up short.

"It's so small."

"Mail caught most of it. Bone caught the rest." Helsknight hummed sleepily. "Had a big bruise by the time I was off the field. All red and knotted up."

"Sounds terrifying."

"It was," Helsknight admitted, and Tanguish blinked at him in surprise. "Couldn't lift my arm. Couldn't move it at all, really. It was uhm... the first time my body failed me mid-fight."

"... but you won?"

"But I won."

Tanguish moved his hand away from that scar to another, a raised crescent that fish-hooked its way along a rib.

"What about this one?"

"Jousting."

"Jousting?"

"The lance clipped my side, dragged a broken link from my mail back with it. It curves down like that because I stood up in the stirrups." Helsknight ran his tongue across his teeth. "Almost unseated both of us, but I managed to keep my saddle."

"So...?"

"So I won."

"Did you get any of these from losing?"

Helsknight thought about that for a moment, opening tired eyes to look down at himself. He frowned. "Yeah. One. You don't want to hear about it."

"That bad?"

"Very bad."

Helsknight took his hand and led it to his stomach, where a pair of thin gashes snaked across to his side. The positioning was lost on Tanguish. He didn't know enough about how the body worked to know what a wound like that might look or bleed like. All he knew was, even though Helsknight led him there, the knight flinched uncomfortably when he touched it, like just the suggestion of claws on the old wound made him feel vulnerable.

"Do I not want to hear about it," Tanguish asked, "or are you scared to tell me?"

"I'm not scared." Helsknight scowled.

"Sorry that's not--! I didn't mean... it's not... cowardly," Tanguish corrected, brushing his thumb along the scar again and watching the discomfort bloom on Helsknight's face. "I mean... are you scared I'm going to judge you? Or are you scared of reliving it?"

"It's not a scar I got pridefully," Helsknight said after a long, thoughtful moment.

"Because you lost?"

Helsknight hesitated. Finally he settled on, "It would have been a bad death."

"Uhm... can I ask what that means?"

"Dying badly is... uhm. I don't know. Hard to describe."

"Unglorious?"

"More like... pointless."

"How can a death in the Colosseum be pointless?"

Helsknight made a sour expression, like there was a bad taste in his mouth. "It's... needlessly messy? And painful. It's supposed to be quick and thrilling and... not... painless. But there shouldn't be suffering. It's the same reason we don't use fire enchants anymore. No glory is worth burning to death in front of thousands of people."

Tanguish frowned. "All of these scars were pain once. Is the only difference that they weren't fatal?"

"The difference is they meant something." Helsknight hummed. He took Tanguish's hand in his. He led him to the hooked scar on his ribs.

"This taught me that even a glancing blow can be dangerous."

To the divot on his collar bone.

"This taught me my body has limits. Some wounds can't be powered through."

He drew Tanguish's hand up to his face, pressing his cold fingers against the claw-mark scar. "This taught me my experience doesn't make me invincible."

Helsknight released Tanguish's hand. "A bad death is... it's pain without lesson. Suffering without growth. Horror without change. Pointless."

They lay in silence long enough that Tanguish wondered if Helsknight might have fallen asleep. The rise and fall of his chest was steady and even, his eyes closed in his quiet frown. Tanguish hugged his arms to his chest and watched him breathe. He mapped and remapped the claw scars on Helsknight's face, traced the divot on his collar bone with his eyes, catalogued what he could see of the constellation of harms on his forearms.

Finally, his voice a whisper, Tanguish asked, "Was this a bad death?"

He reached forward and pressed his thumb against the knife scar beneath Helsknight's ribs. Helsknight's breath hitched against the cold of his touch, and Tanguish wished, for not the first time, that ice wasn't such a strong presence in him. Helsknight blinked his eyes open, and for a moment he said nothing. Then he reached forward and pressed a hand against Tanguish's abdomen, the heat of his hand searing the invisible line the Demon's axe had carved.

"Was this?" he asked.

"That's... that's different," Tanguish stammered.

"Why?"

"You didn't do it."

"And if I had?" Helsknight asked quietly. "What if I were fighting the Demon, and grazed you by accident."

"It's-- you didn't. I pushed you out of the way. I did this to myself."

"I don't think the wounds are so different." Helsknight flashed him a tired, insufferable smirk. "You were aiming for Wels, and I got in the way. And I did learn something."

"You... did...?"

"I think I'd rather die than see you hurt."

Tanguish momentarily forgot to breathe. By the time he remembered, Helsknight had wrapped his hand around his, and moved it away from any scars. He held it between them, one massive hand swallowing Tanguish's own in quiet, steadfast warmth.

"You're..." (Tanguish lost all words.) "... insufferable."

"Thank you. Go to sleep Tanguish."

Tanguish nodded. Helsknight grunted his approval, and with enviable swiftness, dropped off into sleep. Tanguish lay awake for several more minutes, reaching his other hand up to tentatively wrap it around the knight's, his two delicate hands cupped around a strong, sword-calloused fist. He curled up there, his forehead pressed to the gathered knuckles.

(What did I do to deserve him?) he asked the universe as loudly as he dared. (How do I stay worth him?)

The universe didn't answer. He wasn't sure the universe knew how to answer questions like that. A feeling came to Tanguish, though, like fear in the way it filled him, swelling grand in his chest. It was like tears in its swiftness. Unexpected and full to overflowing. It was neither of those things. It was buoyant where they were heavy. Bright where they were dark. It was a feeling he would try to put a name to later, when he was no longer tired and thinking in primary colors. The root of devotion, the desire to return it. Simple. Right.

For now, though, Tanguish slept.

#Situation Asks #rns asks #helsknight #tanguish #i am holding them gently in my hands #i may have misunderstood the assignment #this went from awkward to heartfelt #they needed some self care and bonding time #rns ficlet

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dracoxsworld · 1 year

Text

Protection. - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: Bro Draco gets angry. Cursing, mentions of assault (does not go into detail at all), please read with caution! Also Oral (f receiving) And fingering bc Draco is a SIMP!

a/n: You guys this took like 2 and a half days to write.. It's 2,396 words. please don't let it flop :') Anyway I hope you're all good and safe. Happy weekend! Whoop Whoop!!

You begged Draco to agree to you two going to the slytherin ball. “Y/n, you know I’m not a social person. I’m already around those bloody people enough in class.”

“Draco please.” you begged, batting your eyelashes. Draco pursed his lips, and exhaled through his nose. “Fine.” a reluctant Draco responded. You giggle with excitement, clapping your hands. You quickly get up on your tip-toes to kiss him on his cheek. Draco gives a small smile, but you can tell he regretted his decision. “I’m gonna go get ready.” You beamed.

You slipped on a very short, dark green dress. It was a bishop sleeved dress, with a cut out above your stomach, with a knot tying the fabric together. You put on dark grey tights, and black heels. You smoothed the dress down your waist, and smiled in the mirror. Draco came into the bedroom, and leaned in the doorframe. You didn’t notice him for a moment, not until he spoke. “Melvins beard.” He muttered. You turned around, facing him and smiled. “Do you like it?” you implored him.

“Like it? You look..ravishing.” Draco purrs. He walks closer to you, his big hands settle on your waist. He started you up and down as if his eyes were glued to you. “You know,” you began. “You look quite sharp yourself.” Draco was wearing his all black suit, with the Slytherin pendent on the left side of his chest, glimmering in the candle light in your bedroom.

𓆙

You and Draco arrived to the ballroom. Everyone in your house had already arrived, all in their own cliques talking with drinks in their hand, presumably pumpkin juice. Draco has his hand in your waist, nodding to his Quidditch team members. Some of them, happened to lay eyes on you. You assumed Draco had noticed their eyes of hunger for his girl, because he mumbled something about hexing them before they can even think about their next practice.

You spot your friends, Daphne Greengrass with Pansy Parkinson. “Draco, I’m gonna go say hi to the girls, okay?” You announced. Draco looked down on you with concern. “Y/N, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Draco expressed, his eyes now gazing the crowd full of Slytherins, mostly observing the male classmates. You huffed. “I can handle myself, Draco.” You begged. “Fine. But stay where I can see you.” Draco grumbled. “You sound like my dad.” You muttered back to him as you were walking away.

You tap Daphne on the shoulder, she turned around and gasped. “Look at the hottie of the night!” she beamed at you. Pansy smiled and gave you a small wave, which you returned. You and the girls gossiped about peers, specifically about who they were with, or, more importantly; the ones who arrived alone. That's when Daphne's eyes land on Theodore Nott.

"I've heard interesting things about him, Theodore." Daphne noted. "Yeah? Like what?" Pansy questioned Daphne. "Just that he can be very manipulative, almost like he puts a spell on everyone he talks to," Daphne replied. You tilted your head in curiosity at Daphne. "A spell?" You prodded. Daphne nodded in response. "Nobody has ever said 'no' to him, I don't think he knows what it means." Daphne said in a shudder. "Not a good dude. I mean, I know us Slytherin's don't have an exactly shiny reputation; but that's not what I personally stand for." Daphne asserted. You and Pansy nodded in agreeance. You took a moment to look for Draco; you seemed to be in a very interesting conversation with Blaise Zabini. You smiled at the sight of Draco actually enjoying himself. "Shall we go get drinks?" Pansy suggested. You and Daphne nodded, and you all went to the bar.

𓆙

It was about 30 minutes into your totally-not-spiked pumpkin juice, Daphne and Pansy went off to the restroom, when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and jolted in your seat as you noticed who it was. Theodore Nott. He smiled at you, it was a sour smile. Not friendly or genuine. Mischief was behind it. "Theodore, is it?" You proceeded cautiously. "My my, I am surely worthy if someone like you knows my name." Theodore said maliciously. "Well, that depends of the reason." You snapped back, turning around towards your drink, your back now facing him. Almost immediately, Theodore gripped the bottom of your seat and spun you back around. "Excuse me!" You cautioned, as you were gripping the bottom of your seat to steady yourself, they landed on top of Theodore's, who took it as an opportunity to roughly grasp them. You try to pull away, but his grip doesn't weaken. "Hands off!" You spat, struggling out of his grip, he finally lets go, trying to not cause a scene. "Y/N, I always, always get what I want, you know." Theodore said with a tone of confidence. You rolled your eyes. "Not from me, I already have someone, thanks." You replied. Theodore chuckled. "That excuse won't keep me from you, doll."

"I'm not your doll," you hissed.

"Then who do you belong to?" He questioned. "I would like to know who my competition is."

"Draco Malfoy, and don't bother. You don't even compare, 'doll'". You mocked. Theodore's eyes grew dark. "Now, baby, you're getting on my nerves. You'll regret getting on my nerves. I'm sure you've heard that too." Theodore threatened. You reach for your wand, that's tucked into your sleeve, but Theodore catches your hand. "Now now, let's not make a scene. Just come with me quietly and there won't be any trouble." He stated, tightening his grip. You winced in pain, your eyes dart around the room, attempting to find your silver-haired hero. But he's no where to be seen. Theodore smiles, "He's not here to save you, hon."

"Doesn't matter, I'm not going with you." Your provoked. Theodore brings out his wand, and points it underneath your chin. "You want a bet?" He chuckles. Poison fumes from his mouth, your eyes fill up with tears. How were you going to get out of this one? "What you hear from me is true. And, you've pissed me off. The thing is, nobody knows what happens when you piss me off," Theodore warned, leaning closer to your face. You smell cigarettes off of his breath. "Most aren't able to tell anyone what's happened to them, love."

"Now, be a good girl and come with me." You reluctantly got up from your seat as he guided you to the exit, moving his wand towards the bottom of your back, in the middle, where no one can see. You almost make it to the exit, tears falling down your cheeks. Why isn't anyone noticing? Theodore's grip gets tighter and tighter as you get closer to the door. Then, like a miracle, Draco appears, seemingly out of nowhere. Relief washes over your body. "I believe she arrived with me." He growled. Veins along his arm were popping, his face was redder than you've ever seen. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Everyone around you turned around in your direction, gasping, trying to hide behind each other. You try to run up to him but Theodore pulls you back, putting the wand back to your temple. "Don't you dare, she'll get it, I promise you." Theodore swore. Draco withdrew his wand. "Draco, don't!" You cried. "Yes, Draco" Theodore mocked your cry for your lover. "Listen to your slut." He said with poison on his tongue. "You've got a nasty one, Malfoy. I have to teach her respect. "

"You bastard." Draco cursed, lowering his wand slowly. "I'll take care of you without magic," Draco grumbled. Before you could even realize what happened, Daphne and Pansy came up behind Theodore, each girl on each side grip his arms and hold him in place. "What the bloody hell?!" Theodore stammered. "Petrificus Totalus!" Pansy exclaims., wand pointing at Theodore. In an instant, Theodore's body petrifies, and falls to the floor, you fly forward from his body almost falling on you. Theodore, paralyzed other than his eyes, is unable to say a word. Draco's arms wrap around you instantly. You've never been so grateful to be in his arms, you sob into his black suit, not caring of what those around you think. "I am so sorry I let you out of my sight," Draco said into your hair, starting to sob. "It's not your fault Draco, I wondered off, I-" "No." Draco interrupted. "It's his fault."

Draco walked up to Theodore's stiff body. He balled up his fist, each finger had a silver ring. He swung his fist that then collided into Theodore's fist. "Magic or not, I'll fucking kill you!" Draco spat at him, continuously swinging his fists at Theodore's face. You, Pansy and Daphne pull him off, he's huffing and puffing. Theodore was almost unrecognizable. Black, blue, and red. Same for Draco's knuckles. "This sick son of a bitch isn't worth it, Malfoy." Daphne said calmingly, gazing at Theodore's condition. "Y/N, are you okay?" Pansy asked concerningly, checking if you were hurt. You nodded your head gratefully, giving them both a hug and "thank you's". "Let's leave." You begged him. Draco stood still for a second, debating if he should attempt to wack Theodore again, Theodore's eyes were full of fear. Draco leans down to him. "Now you know what it's like to be someone's bitch." He mocked. He stood back up, held out his hand for yours. "Are you ready, love?" He asked lovingly. You nodded, and took his hand. You could hear a pin drop in the ball room. You nodded, "Yes, please."

𓆙

You and Draco made it up to your dorm room. You quietly made it to your bed, and sat down. your wrapped your arms around yourself. Draco looked at you apologetically. "Draco.." You began. "I am so happy things turned out the way they did, but," You looked up at him, but you were blinded by tears. "What if they didn't?" Draco took a deep breath, and came to sit down by you, wrapping his strong around you, pulling you close to him. "I don't know, I don't wanna know. I am so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have lost you, I can't forgive myself, I won't. I don't want to." He mumbled. He looked at you, tears forming in his silver eyes. "I love, you y/n. I am so sorry." Draco sniffled out. "I wanted to kill him. I wanted to end his life." Draco admitted. You nodded in understanding, and fiddled with your wand. After a moment, you flicked your wand at your door. "Muffliato," You commanded. Blue aura spreads out from your wand, and travels across your dorm room walls.

Draco looks at you with curiosity, but welcomes you when you straddle him, wrapping your legs around his waist, and your arms around his neck. "Draco.." You said softly. "He laid his hands on me," You choked out, starting to get upset again. You cleared your throat after a moment. "I want your touch." Draco's eyes widened. "Are you sure? After tonight I-" "Please" You interrupted, still softly. He gave you a soft smile before passionately kissing you, he wrapped one arm around your waist, the other traveling up your thigh, under your dress. You hummed in pleasure, and he smirked in the kiss.

The kiss slowly got more intense as you both settled yourself completely on your bed, you still on top of him. Draco pulled your dress up over your shoulders and head. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." Draco whispered to you, cupping your face in his large hands. "You're so important to me, I need to protect you better." You kissed him softly again, not wanting him to make himself feel even more guilty. The kiss becomes more intense again, but more quickly this time.

His tongue brushed against your bottom lip asking for permission to enter, which you granted. Draco's hands were simultaneously roaming your body, feeling every curve and surface. He got to the middle of your thighs causing you to moan in the kiss, which encouraged him more. He began inching towards your panties, which were wet, rubbing his fingers along the soaked fabric. "Draco, please." You moaned out in desperation. He looked at you and nodded. "I'll spoil you this time without teasing, love." Draco said, full with lust. He laid you back, and ducked his head to be in between your legs. He took your lace panties off with his teeth, teasingly slow. "Draco, you promised!" You said with frustration. Draco quickly finished taking them off, went went back to between your legs, right in front of your heat. You felt his tongue on your wet and needy bud. You moan his name, gripping his previously neat and smoothed back hair. His tongue go in circles, nice and slow. Perfect amount of pressure you needed. You feel his finger slowly tease your entrance. His finger slowly slides in, earning another moan from you. He pumps his one finger in and out of you while pleasuring your now swollen bud with his tongue. "Dray, I'm close" You moan out. "Come on baby, cum for me." Draco praised. Two fingers now, pumping even faster. His tongue assaulting your bud. His curled fingers are hitting your g-spot perfectly.

You begin to see stars, your legs are shaking. He keeps going somehow faster, when It feels impossible. You moan his name louder. Thank Merlin you casted that spell, you think. You feel the knot in your stomach grow. "Come on baby, cum on my face" Draco murmurs from between your legs, into your pussy. That was it. You finally released your juices. Draco licked every drop up, you squirm and buck your hips up and down from the overstimulation. Draco eventually comes back up to you, kissing your lips, and your forehead. You yawn, and your eyelids feel extremely heavy. "Your turn, you smirk up at him while he's holding himself over you. He chuckles softly. "Nah, babydoll. We can have that in the morning. You need some sleep." He says lovingly. You try to protest, but Draco already has you snuggled up to his chest.

The night ended on a good note, and you were just grateful to have Draco Malfoy. Very grateful indeed.

#draco x reader smut #draco fic #draco angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco imagine #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader fluff #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy smut #draco x y/n #draco malfoy #harry potter masterlist #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic smut

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accio-victuuri · 4 months

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fandom thoughts & are cpfs really gonna get banned from yibo related comment sections? 📝

i may regret publishing this cause it will, like it always does, attract the wrong sort but whatever. i don’t really care. for someone who has been here for a good number of years, i have really learned to pick my battles especially fandom-wise. i can tell you that every week, there will always be some kind of trouble going on with fans and you will be exhausted if you obsess over each one of them. i have said before that if there is anything that will drive me out of stanning the boys, it’s the toxic fandom — so that’s why i mostly steer clear. hence, having this small space for myself on tumblr.

the fandom disagreements, whether that’s within cpfs, so/o vs cpfs, so/o vs other so/os and we somehow get dragged is always gonna be there. and it’s not really unique to our fandom. the question tho is why you are here? is it to participate in fan wars or to consume content related to xz and wyb? is it to be famous and get followers? etc personally, i’m here for xz and wyb. the active fandom is a bonus. there are so many things i love about the cpf community, but my priority will always be xz and wyb + their career. i mostly get involved if the issue makes it on HS and if it’s to amplify something positive within the fandom.

lately, i’ve mildly spoke up about people accusing cpfs of buying likes cause it was all bs.

which leads us to the next topic of being banned..

i guess this is a “hot topic” in other platforms that love drama.

so for the past days, including weibo night, cpfs have been commenting en masse in comments section. for example, with yibo’s weibo night post and ybo’s recent post about bystander ep photos. what you will notice is the use of ❤️💛 💚 to highlight that we are cpfs. the same thing is done in xz & xzs post. the only reason why we are more visible in the top comments of yibo posts is because motos are disorganized. i said what i said. i see efforts for their coordination but cpfs are just more organized when it comes to doing likes and votes. xfx are so much better than us on this tho. they have lots of professional fans. omg i’m gonna get dragged for being a xfx lol but it’s the truth.

you must notice that the friction between cpfs and motos have been happening for a while now. going as far back as SDC 5 finals ( even before that actually ) and so on. this is why i’m not surprised that this stunt from cpfs triggered them again. ⚠️

the short answer is, no one is getting banned. what they can do tho, and that includes YBO is to report these comments as spam. and if you look at it, they do look like spam posts. if a user gets reported multiple times, then that is when the ban comes in. i don’t think they will be spending money on censoring certain emojis tho. i tried right now and you can still send it.

i have seen some conversations on wb among cpf, that the comments should not be like this. it should really be actual comments on what is being shared. that we should not include xz’s name or face. that’s what i like about the fandom, cause we can admit if we do something wrong or if we need to improve in some aspects. we don’t blame other people, which is what other fandoms love to do btw. it’s all they can do. lol.

and it doesn’t help that in yuehua’s recent post regarding yibo’s lawsuits, the top comment is about demanding to control the comments section of yibo related posts. so of course they will look into that. sadly, the group that the company will always appease are the solo fans. it is what it is.

so that’s basically what the issue is about.

i’m actually just observing at this point but it’s not where my focus is. i am personally excited about saturday and seeing captain yibo 💥 plus i have other interests and things happening irl. this is why i don’t get people who seem to only be in fandom to start fights or obsess over cpfs. can’t relate.

i’m not saying that we should ignore everything and pretend that things are perfect. the point is, do not obsess over every fandom drama. also, look at things from cpf side before so/os. people usually come to me, sending me things that so/os say and my question is why the hell are you reading their posts? why are you in there? let’s stay on our lane. they are so/os, of course they will be biased. and don’t expect me to be always up in arms about stuff like this. my energy for over reacting is primarily for cpns and not fandom wars & drama.

lastly, being a cpf is not for the glass hearted. if you are weak-willed, this is is not for you. or maybe it is and this is the fandom that will build you up. i hope more and more people will find that perfect balance in participating in this fandom. that we set and implement boundaries — i know it’s especially hard for the new ones — when you are bombarded with the negativity. it’s not all that. there is so much more positive things to gain in being a cpf if you know where to look 🫶🏼

#yizhan #bjyx #personal #fandom drama #hugs to all cpfs 🫂🫂🫂#if you all have nothing to do then watch tgcf

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litnerdwrites · 2 months

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Azriel in Silver Flames

I've basically hated the IC since... Acowar, honestly. But the more I think about it, the more conflicted I am about Azriel. I liked him in every book, but in retrospect, I'm not so sure anymore. This is mostly regarding his treatment of Nesta, since he honestly didn't do much before hand the start of Silver Flames, and he didn't do too much during it either.

I understand why Azriel would stay away from Nesta from the end of ACOWAR to the start of Silver Flames. He's observant, and I imagine he's figured out that Nesta doesn't want to spend time with the IC. Moreover, he may also see it as being in Feyre's jurisdiction, and wanting to stay out of it out of respect for her privacy and what not. It's his behaviour through out silver flames that has me conflicted.

Azriel was raised in confinement with limited interactions with other people. He saw his mother once a week, for limited time and suffered physical and verbal abuse, and torture during that time. He had no control over his schedule, food, social interactions, nothing. Yet, despite that, he allowed Nesta to be isolated and kept on a strict schedule and diet that she has no say in, and we never see any signs of him arguing against it. Especially since he knows being locked up somewhere against your will, where you can't leave, often made to do things you don't want, is what most of the IC's trauma roots from (Amren in the Prison, Rhys UTM, Feyre UTM, Mor in the CON, Azriel in his father's dungeon, etc). Why the, seemingly, most sensible person allowed this is beyond me.

Azriel, through out the book, never protests against this treatment either. He treats Nesta decently, though that is the absolute minimum. She should've been treated like that, regardless, of where she was or what she was doing.

He despises Illyria, knows the dangers out there, from both males and whatever's in those forests, yet he doesn't protest against Nesta going. We've seen that there are days where she wanders around on her own (like when she went to Emerie's), without protection. What would happen if she jumped off a cliff or a steep bluff? Or if she went into the forests? What about if some of the males attacked her? It's not like she was constantly supervised. trusting her witch status will keep them away is too risky, since some might not care. Azriel knows the dangers of Illyria, and he let her be taken there. He saw how Illyria hurt his mother, and how she was treated, first hand.

He doesn't do anything even after suspecting that Cassian pushed her down the stairs, or witnessing her being verbally abused by Cassian, and Rhys when he cares to show up. He doesn't defend her, or shut his brothers down, he just lets it happen, seemingly unbothered. Idk about you, but if I was at dinner, and my brother said to his girlfriend, the things that Cassian says to Nesta, I'd drag him out the front door by the hair myself.

Azriel also had a bag packed for Nesta and Cassian's hike from hell, waiting for Cassian to come get it. He let Cassian take Nesta somewhere else against her will. He, presumably, knew about the plan to take her on that hike, helped prepare for it, and just let it happen without a care. He knew where they were taking her, and what they were going to make her do, and he let it happen.

Then there's the issue regarding the Trove. Azriel pushes for Nesta's right to know about what her powers can do, yet he doesn't have any issue pushing her into life threatening situation to keep Elain from it? He says that Elain shouldn't be exposed to whatever darkness the trove and cauldron possess, but that alone implies that Nesta should be exposed to it, and that's despite her mental condition at the time.

While I don't think Azriel's status as a spymaster means he should know things like Nesta's fear of fire, and her suicidal ideation, but it does mean that there's a very good chance that he does (and yet he still sends her on that hike). Knowing this, Azriel implies that Nesta should go on these life threatening missions, where she could be killed, or commit suicide, or be taken.

Azriel is shown to stand up to/argue with Rhysand in the bonus chapters. He does so for himself and arguably Elain. Why doesn't he do it for Nesta too?

It's all of these little things that leave a bitter taste in my mouth regarding Azriel.

Would he have tried to beg/force Nesta to go instead of Elain had she refused, or if he would've stood up for Nesta if Cassian had become physically violent with her. If she refused to go on that hike, would he have fought for her right to chose like he did before? If Rhys tried to kill her, would he stand up to him for her? If Elain is mistreated in her book, would he stand up for her? If so, why not Nesta too? How can he call himself her friend if he doesn't at least try to talk about how wrong it is, assuming he even realises it's wrong to start with.

We haven't gotten much of his pov yet, and he doesn't really say much, but from what I have seen, I'm concerned. Azriel may not be actively trying to hurt Nesta, but it feels like he enables his brothers and his court too much.

Didn't Tamlin dod the same, along with his court, who watched Feyre whither away, and did nothing. Even if they didn't see what was happening in her head, they saw her wasting away from lack of sleep or food. Isn't Azriel doing the same to Nesta by letting her be treated that way? Reaming neutral still makes him part of the problem, doesn't it?

Am I the only one who gets this bad taste in my mouth when I think about this?

#anti ic #nesta deserves better #pro nesta #anti acosf #anti rhysand #anti inner circle #nesta acotar

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stayevildarling · 27 days

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I know you've already done something similar, but I'm wondering if you can write a billie, delia, and mina fic with reader who gets attacked and ends up forgetting things like who her gfs are and where she is? Maybe you can add your own ideas to it if ur up to it? Thank you <33

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- Closure

A/N: Hi there ❣️ I apologise for the delay with this on. I have been a bit sick and busy. This is really long but I couldn't make it any shorter.

tw: mention of blood, mention of doctors and hospitals, mention of amnesia, cursing, smoking, lots of angst

word count: 11k 😅

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It had been a normal day at the academy, a busy weekday really, the four of you going on about your days, Cordelia mostly in her office working on academy business, Wilhemina at work and returning a little while ago, you mostly teaching classes and spending your afternoon in the greenhouse, Billie equally at work. At last, you find yourself in the comfort of your girlfriends arms, the four of you snuggled up together by the fireplace, the tv running softly in the background, drawing out the outside noises from the busy streets, some laughter still coming from some of the witches rooms.

As you glance around you, you notice Delia sitting beside you, holding you closely as the two of you are snuggled in a blanket, Wilhemina sitting in her armchair, doing some knitting, her eyes occasionally glancing at you three, the view warming her heart and causing the ever so smallest smile to coat her features. A sudden movement startles you a little, Billie Dean disappearing into the darkness of the night again as she leaves for a smoke, this time unannounced and you can't help but notice how this must have been her third cigarette within twenty minutes, and equally Cordelia watches her leave, Wilhemina's brows furrowing as usually she announced her little smoking breaks.

And as you think about it a little further, you remember how agitated Billie seemed today, unusually quiet at dinner and not sharing any details about her day, like she usually would. And then it kinda dawns on you how fidgety she had been, how she had barely said any words and the revelation causes you to jolt in Cordelia's arms. Her brown eyes meet yours, concern washing over her, before she speaks softly ,,Sweetheart, are you okay?'' she asks, almost a little confused, noticing how tense you suddenly seem. ,,I'm worried about Billie'' you announce, ignoring the voice in your head telling you not to share your concern with them, not wanting to worry them in the process. Cordelia remains silent as she glances at Wilhemina, and as their eyes lock they share a silent understanding. Despite Cordelia being the supreme, you had an odd connection with the three women, somehow always noticing whenever something was wrong.

Cordelia had tried to solve that puzzle many times, whether it was simply your intuition, whether it was simply the love you share for them and how observant you are. However she had questioned how you almost always seem to get it right, always instantly by Wilhemina's side as your senses alerted you of her pains, always by Cordelia's side whenever some danger was looming over the usual safe walls of the academy, sometimes knowing before she did. And you often knew when something was bothering the medium too, when everything was getting a little much for her. And despite never solving the puzzle regarding your senses, she knows that you must be right, also having noticed how agitated, nervous and quiet Billie had been all evening.

And before too long, the medium returns, opting for the other armchair, despite her sitting beside Cordelia moments before, her loud mind causing her to not be focused, to forget already. ,,Billie honey?'' Cordelia tries softly, drawing the medium away from her thoughts. ,,Is everything okay darling?'' she tries, tilting her head a little as three sets of concerned eyes meet the mediums. And she hesitates then, playing with her acrylic nails as a nervous habit, her mouth opening before she physically stops herself, biting the words back. ,,Billie?'' Wilhemina tries now as concern washes over her as well, never having seen Billie like this despite the many battles the medium had thought over the years, including battles with the redhead but always coming out stronger in the end.

,,It's- it's nothing'' Billie tries but her attempt is pathetic as tears already swell in her eyes, Cordelia quick on her feet to kneel beside the medium, taking her shaking hands into her steady ones. ,,Darling, please, what is it?'' the supreme tries, her eyes pleading with her, grounding her and giving her safety to share whatever this was. ,,It's work'' she finally admits, sighing in the process as she lets a tear stream down her cheek. And as you glance at Wilhemina, your features filled with pain, you both know this was serious. Billie never spoke too much about her work, only the nice parts really, including the promo tours, the fun bits of it, never the hauntings, never the ghosts. The same hauntings, ghosts and spirits that often kept her awake at night, causing her to have terrible nightmares, and the three of you often shushing her back to sleep in the end.

,,It's really bad'' she admits, more to herself than either of you and Wilhemina slowly abandons her knitting supplies, you equally abandoning your spot on the comfortable sofa, before walking over to your girlfriend and placing the same blanket that had provided you warmth and safety to her now. ,,Tell us honey'' Cordelia instructs before Billie begins slowly filling you in. Telling you three about her worst gig yet, how despite having seen everything by now she couldn't crack this one, how there was some connection to witches. How she assumes they are satanic witches who are trapped here and haunting a family, how she has been scared to go to work for the past few days, as all her methods failed. You glance at Cordelia when she mentions witches, wondering whether maybe you and the supreme could help out all things considered.

,,It's okay honey, come here'' Cordelia softly offers as soon as Billie finishes, pulling the medium into her arms as your hands softly reach out to hold the mediums, rubbing your thumb in little circles to keep her feeling safe and sound. ,,Billie?'' Wilhemina tries after a while, after the medium had mostly calmed down. ,,Are you gonna make fun of me?'' Billie chuckles through tears, not used to let her guard down like this, especially around all of you at the same time. Wilhemina's features soften then, almost frowning ,,Of course not'' she speaks calmly ,,We are here for you'' she speaks again and it almost causes for you to cry, knowing your Mina had a hard time with these sort of things.

,,Delia?'' you ask, getting her attention as she glances at you ,,I'm sure we can help'' you urge, pleading with her through your eyes. The supreme hesitates, knowing it was probably possible her being the supreme and also having the gift of mediumship that comes with her powers but knowing this was dangerous, after all if Billie was correct and if they truly had some satanic connections. As she glances around the room, she catches a glimpse of Billie who's eyes plead in desperation and so the blonde can't help but agreeing. ,,Can you take me there tomorrow?'' Cordelia asks and is met with a gasp of relief from the medium, who nods her head gratefully. ,,How about we get you to bed for now honey?'' Cordelia tries and Billie simply nods, before the four of you ascend the stairs, getting ready for your individual evening routines and eventually finding each other in bed.

That night you don't manage to get a lot of sleep, worried about your lover who tossed and turned a lot, awoken by a nightmare a couple of times but the three of you were quick by her side, holding her gently through the terrors of the night. And eventually, you give up on the idea of sleep, softly extracting from bed and wrapping a blanket around you before hiding away in the comfort of the greenhouse, glancing through some of Cordelia's books, hoping you could find something that could help out. After countless hours, the sun already rising a while ago, you are lost in several books about satanic rituals, witches and their history, quite taken back as you hadn't really learned about this type of magic before.

Cordelia eventually finds you, watching from the door where she lingers, softly smiling at you sitting crossed leg on the floor, several books around you. ,,Sweetie?'' she startles you, causing you to jolt a little. And then as you watch her approach, looking ethereal as ever in one of her flower dresses, it dawns on you, how long you had been gone, how tired you are from the lack of sleep. ,,What are you up to in here?'' she asks, glancing at the books. ,,Just some reading'' you explain yourself, quickly up on your feet before she presses a soft kiss to your lips, noticing the little bags under your eyes and guessing you- alike her, didn't get too much sleep the night prior.

Taking her hand, you follow her inside the academy again, the witches already having begun their days, going on about their tasks, as you find both Billie and Wilhemina in the kitchen, already dressed for the day while you stand there still in your pyjamas, blanket wrapped around your shoulders. ,,Where are you going?'' you ask a little confused, noticing they are all dressed to go somewhere, Wilhemina's car keys dangling from her hand. ,,We are going with Billie sweetheart'' Cordelia softly announces, her features a little tense as she knows the argument that is about to follow. ,,Wait- give me five minutes'' you announce, getting ready to sprint upstairs but Cordelia stops you. ,,Sweetie'' she tries and by the hint of guilt in her eyes you know she doesn't want you to go.

,,I need you to stay here sweetie'' she tries but you are quick to shake your head. ,,No way'' you announce, pleading with both Billie and Wilhemina, hoping they are easier to convince at times. ,,Darling it's far too dangerous'' Cordelia explains, her features stern. ,,No Delia I don't care, I'm not letting you three go alone'' you protest before Wilhemina steps forward. ,,Little one'' she tries but you are having none of it, matching the redheads usual stubbornness. ,,Why are you going but not me?'' you question and as you glance at Billie's and Cordelia's face it suddenly dawns on you. How they always seemed to coddle you, treat you like a child as if you aren't worthy of this, not worthy of adult things, of dangerous things despite being a witch and knowing how to protect yourself. ,,Please sweetie, I need you to look after the girls and coven'' Cordelia pleads and you have always had a hard time to deny her or them of anything and so slowly you cave in.

,,We will be right back, promise babydoll'' Billie announces, pressing a kiss to your cheeks. ,,Please be safe'' you beg, before Cordelia hugs you from the side, pulling you into her arms and pressing a kiss to your cheeks. ,,Promise little one'' Wilhemina announces with a smile before you watch the three of them leave. You glance around the kitchen, noticing how you must have missed breakfast and so you opt for getting ready for your day, afterwards checking the schedule for today and how neither you nor Cordelia are due for teaching today. And so the only thing you can do is pace around Cordelia's office, hating the fact that you didn't insist on going, how the three of them could be in danger, trusting both the supreme and mediums gift with all of your heart and knowing Wilhemina was tough but after everything you had read last night, thoughts of panic and concern still crash through you, causing you to hyperventilate a little.

Meanwhile, your girlfriends had made it to the house, Wilhemina had promised to stay outside, the only way Cordelia would agree on letting her drive them. And as soon as the supreme steps foot in the house, none of Billie's crew present as they insisted on investigating this without cameras, she can sense the lost and trapped dangerous spirits. ,,Follow me'' Billie tries, leading the supreme up the stairs and to the room where she had set up several of her failed methods. Cordelia's head begins pounding and aching with their screams as they must sense that a witch had entered the house, among her ranks despite a very different form of magic. As the medium enters one of the rooms, Cordelia inspects carefully, her hands hovering nearby the walls, trying to see if there was anything she could do, a spell she could cast or trying to figure out what the spirits may want and need to move on.

What all of them are unaware of though, is that the lost souls had no intention of moving on, of stopping the haunting of the poor family who had recently moved in. All they wanted was revenge, revenge for the way they had tragically been killed, despite that being by neither of the people affected by their hauntings. As Cordelia glances around, she feels a wave of discomfort course through her veins, their screams causing for her head to ache further, Billie equally shaking with their torture. And just like they intended, they managed to get into your girlfriends heads, using their magic to cause the only thing they had meant to do, cause agony and pain upon the innocent.

And as you continue pacing, you suddenly feel like losing your balance, your ears ringing as you hear an agonising scream, and it wasn't just any scream, it was Billie, the medium screaming for help and as your eyes widen, you are quick to force them shut, using your magic abilities to teleport to your girlfriends, panic rippling through your body. Wilhemina's eyes widen as you suddenly appear in front of her, your face filled with fear and panic. ,,Little one?'' she tries ,,Where is she?'' your shaky voice ripples through the air. ,,I heard Billie scream'' you announce, before brushing past her, quickly entering the house. ,,Y/N wait'' Wilhemina tries, confusion washing over her features.

Wilhemina watches as you try to ascend the stairs, taking a few steps before an invisible force takes over, causing you to fly up and down the stairs, as your body floats at first, Wilhemina's heart stopping in her chest. And then it all stops as your scared eyes meet the redheads before you are thrown across the room, the spirits enjoying their little game. A loud bang startles both Cordelia and Billie who are unaware of what had unfolded, their eyes meeting for a second before they run downstairs, finding you in front of Wilhemina on the floor, her expression filled with panic.

,,Y/N'' Billie shouts, seeing your lifeless body on the floor ,,What happened?'' Cordelia asks, glancing at Wilhemina who remains frozen, before she kneels down, taking your head into her hands, her hands quickly staining with blood. ,,She suddenly appeared and said she heard you scream Billie'' Wilhemina explains. Billie's eyes widen in shock ,,I didn't scream...Cordelia it's the spirits, we need to get out of here'' she ushers and the supreme is quick to agree.

The blonde is quick to take you into her arms, before running towards the car, putting you in the back seat before taking a seat and holding you in her arms. Wilhemina rushes to the drivers seat, Billie beside her before she starts the car. The supreme is quick to cast a few spells, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to heal you but she quickly notices that it must be more serious than this, considering her efforts are not working as the blood still poured and the colour fades more and more from your features with each passing moment. ,,We need to get her to a hospital now'' she ushers, Billie hysterically crying in the front, glancing at you and blaming herself for ever bringing her girlfriends there in the first place.

Wilhemina's determination quickly kicks in as she drives faster, focused to get you to the nearest hospital as quickly as possible. ,,Sweetie'' Cordelia tries, brushing her blood stained hands against your cheeks. ,,Y/N'' she ushers but you can't respond as the battle of unconsciousness had won a long time ago. Tears mingle in each of their eyes, Wilhemina glancing in the mirror as panic sets in, seeing you like this. Within minutes, the redhead has you in front of the nearest hospital, having ushered Billie to call ahead and as Cordelia exits the car, still holding your lifeless body in her hands, there are already some doctors and nurses waiting for you, quickly transporting you onto a gurney and rushing you inside.

The wait feels like an eternity, a lifetime of pain and memories, as the three of them pace back and forth in one of the waiting rooms where one of the nurses had escorted them to. Billie sits curled up in one of the chairs, occasionally pacing around as tears blurry her vision. Wilhemina remains standing, despite the sprain on her back, not caring about her back as all she could think about was you, Cordelia pacing back and forth, her thoughts clouded by the possibility of losing you. And as time passes on, you linger on their mind as the doctors work their magic on fixing your injuries. Cordelia keeps thinking over and over when you first joined the academy, how captivated she had been by you, at last a witch who was experienced, who she barely needed to teach anymore. How she often found you in the greenhouse as it had become your sanctuary, how sweet and polite you had been, often asking if you could borrow some of her books, how she had taught you potions a few times as that wasn't your strong suits.

She thinks back of introducing you to the other two, how your eyes sparkled, more with each moment you spent with them. How slowly you captivated all their hearts, despite Billie unsure about another person but quickly falling for her babydoll. The medium can't help feeling guilty, how she should have never told you, thinking back to all the times she had held you in her arms, how lately she hadn't done that enough, how she hadn't spoiled you in so long as her work had left her in a daze. And Wilhemina can't help but blame herself for how she didn't stop you when you walked in, regretting not having held you or kissed you before they had left. Thinking back to all of those nights where neither of you could sleep, either you finding her in the library or her finding you reading in the greenhouse, how the two of you would often read to each other, lulling each other to sleep as she would hold you close, thinking about how you truly opened up her heart.

,,How is she?'' Cordelia's voice rings through the air as she sees one of the doctors appear, startling the other two in the process and causing for the thoughts and memories to stop for a moment. ,,She's stable'' he explains, three gasps of relief echoing through the quiet room. ,,She just needed some stitches, we assume the shock and impact caused her to lose consciousness'' he carries on explaining. ,,We are just waiting for some scans but if it stays like that, she should be observed for a few days and then good to return home'' he announces before excusing himself again to finish his tests. ,,Thank you so much'' Cordelia whispers, tears lingering in their eyes, tears of relief.

,,Thank god'' Wilhemina announces, the other two meeting her brown eyes. ,,I'm so sorry'' Billie suddenly cries, startling the two, before she breaks down. ,,I should have never said anything, taken you there'' she apologises, feeling terrible as the thought of losing you causes her to lose her balance. Cordelia is quick to guide her to a nearby chair, taking her tear stained cheeks into her soft hands ,,Honey.. Honey it's okay, she's fine'' the supreme coos, Wilhemina taking a deep breath, having a hard time seeing any of her girlfriends like this. ,,We will be just fine'' Cordelia reassures, trying to coax the medium out of her state.

It takes another while, before one of the nurses guides them to a room, where you lay, asleep from the effects the drugs had on your body. ,,The scans confirm no damage'' one of the doctors returns, causing them to again gasp in relief. ,,I suggest keeping her for monitoring but she should be just fine'' he announces. Wilhemina steps forward, glancing at both Cordelia and Billie before speaking ,,Can we take her home?'' she asks, more her girlfriends than the doctor really. ,,She hates hospitals and if it's simply a matter of observing her, we can do just that'' she tries, noticing how you aren't attached to any machines anymore, how you are simply asleep, how you simply had stitches and no surgery that required any further actions.

Cordelia glances at Billie before she glances at the doctor and nurse, a little unsure whether that would be the best idea. ,,If that's what you would prefer, we are happy to provide you with some pain medication for her once she wakes, and if you have any concern or questions you can of course call or come back anytime'' he assures and that's all the confirmation your girlfriends need. As Wilhemina settles the details with the nurses, the doctor approaches you, as you finally open your eyes. ,,How are you feeling Miss?'' he questions and you struggle a little at first, with the bright sensation and the lingering pain but you quickly adapt to your surroundings ,,Fine, a little sore'' you admit and he nods in understanding before releasing you.

,,I'm so glad you are awake sweetie'' Cordelia smiles at you softly, having made a plan with Billie and Wilhemina to distract the nurses for a moment while getting your release papers and medications so she could teleport you back into the coven, figuring that may be easier given the circumstances. And with a swift motion she has you back where you belong, inside your shared bedroom, ushering you to bed before sleep washes over you again. While the supreme watches over your sleeping form, she worries whether bringing you home was the best idea, despite the events she knows your injuries don't seem serious and she also knows how hard it was for your other two girlfriends to constantly be around hospitals and doctors, given Wilhemina's trauma from those and the spirits in the hospital, making it hard for the medium and Cordelia equally. While awaiting for the other twos return, she tries calming herself, knowing that the three of them could certainly provide the best care for you.

Both Billie and Mina return within the next while, Cordelia sitting by your side, watching your chest rise and fall softly, not for once leaving your side. And when they both return, their faces soften seeing you asleep safe and sound. ,,How is she?'' Billie asks before walking over to Cordelia, her features still filled with guilt for what had happened. ,,Fine darling, she's just been sleeping'' the supreme reassures, before the three of them just take a moment to breathe after the dramatic turn of events from today. In the end they opt for taking turns, Cordelia the first one to leave for a while in order to look after the coven for a while and check on the girls, giving some of her classes for tomorrow to Zoe, so she could look after you. Next, Wilhemina retreats for a little, opting for a bath and change of clothes after the events from today, Billie the last one to shower and get changed before returning.

It's late afternoon when you awaken next, your eyes slowly opening after hearing some hushed voices, the bright sensation from the white room causing you to squint them shut, the remaining pain in your heard still lingering. After trying again, your throat feels on fire a little as you try glancing around the room. Billie is by your side straight away, smiling at you, almost beaming a little to finally see you awake. ,,How are you feeling?'' she asks, her voice ringing through the air causing your head to pound a little. ,,Wa'' you try to speak but the pain overwhelms you for a second as you force your eyes to close again. ,,May I have some water please?'' you try again, the request coming out quiet and broken.

,,Of course babydoll'' Billie ushers, reaching for the glass of water by your beside that Cordelia had placed there a while ago. The supreme by the other side of the bed, smiling at you, Wilhemina sitting a few steps away from you in an armchair. The sip of water feels like relief as it cools down the burning sensation in your throat. ,,Thank you nurse'' you speak again after handing her back the glass with shaky hands. Billie raises her eyebrow, chuckling to herself as she sets the glass back down. ,,Is there anything else I can get for my favourite patient?'' she chuckles again, Cordelias features soft and a smirk tugging at Wilhemina's lips as they enjoy your little joke.

,,No thank you'' you reply politely before turning to the other woman sitting beside you ,,What's the prognosis then doctor?'' you ask, assuming that the other blonde must be your doctor. ,,Yes Doctor, what's the prognosis?'' Wilhemina mockingly jokes, giving you a little wink, still assuming you are joking. ,,You will be just fine sweetheart'' she states, her hand brushing over your arm and rubbing little circles on it in a comforting matter, causing for your eyebrows to furrow a little. ,,But when can I leave?'' you ask, mistaking your bedroom for a hospital room as everything is still a little blurry and there is a lot of white.

,,What do you mean sweetie?'' Cordelia asks confused, scanning your features before Wilhemina is already up on her feet, noticing how this wasn't a joke, how this had never been a joke, her expression deadly serious as she approaches. ,,Little one, this isn't funny'' she urges, her features stern, causing you to feel even more confused. ,,Do you know where you are?'' Billie asks, her eyes already brimming with tears. You reluctantly look at the blonde woman who you assume to be your doctor before she speaks again ,,Do you know what happened?''. You try to think for a moment, remembering a man talking to you before in a room that looked quite different now that you are thinking about it. ,,Do you know your name?'' the woman asks again, causing one of the other two to scoff at the ridiculousness of her question. And then it kinda dawns on you how you aren't aware of anything really, you didn't know where you are, what happened or who you are, as if your memories had been wiped completely.

,,No'' you whisper, and by your statement you can tell that those people aren't doctors or nurses as their reactions felt way more personal than that. Wilhemina's eyes force close as she takes a shaky breath, her heart beating fast and aching with pain. Billie's face is stained with tears as they keep pouring, her hand still holding onto yours, squeezing it a little tighter as if she wanted to comfort you, despite you feeling the strange urge to comfort her, despite not knowing her. Cordelia's face is filled with panic, realising the extent of the situation. ,,Wilhemina, we need to call the doctor straight away'' she announces, knowing that Billie wasn't going to be able to think straight at the moment. ,,On it'' the woman with red hair announces before she leaves the room, an unfamiliar sound echoing through the room.

,,It's going to be okay sweetheart'' Cordelia whispers, her own tears streaming down her features, shocked and in disbelief this happened but still hoping they can fix this, that maybe they had made a simple mistakes with your scans, that maybe she could even fix it with her magic. The redhead woman quickly returns, telling them how the doctor was on the way and seeing their faces and feeling utter confusion, you can't help but ask. ,,Who- who are you?'' you whisper, glancing between the three of them and your words hit them like a tidal wave, as you watch their reaction. The crying blonde one sobbing, squeezing your hand a little tighter, the other comforting blonde one furrowing her brows as her eyes search yours, the redhead one's heart literally breaking in front of you, despite her features seeming angry.

,,Darling, this is Billie, that's Wilhemina and I'm Cordelia'' she explains, as she glances between them. ,,Your name is Y/N'' she explains, her heart heavy with pain and worry. ,,You had an accident and I assume you are suffering from amnesia but one of the best doctors we know is on the way and we will fix this'' she explains, bringing at least some light into the darkness in your brain as you repeat their and your own name in your mind, wanting to remember that much. However your eyebrows furrow with confusion again when they still didn't answer who they are to you. ,,But who are you?'' you ask again, knowing this was causing them pain but needing to understand. The three women simply look at each other, unsure how to explain this to you especially considering the circumstances and so noticing her girlfriends reactions, Cordelia speaks again, her usually the one taking over in tough situations.

,,We are your partners Y/N, your girlfriends'' she speaks, her eyes almost pleading with you to remember. ,,What all three?'' you blurt out, causing Billie to chuckle a little, despite the pain. ,,Yes sweetie'' Cordelia nods, before a little smirk creeps its way onto your features ,,Well I certainly must have a type huh?'' you question more to yourself than them really, causing Wilhemina to chuckle lowly. ,,Well at least you still have your sense of humour little one'' she chuckles, hoping to bring some light into the situation, Cordelia and Billie smiling warmly, despite their hearts heavy with pain and faces filled with concern.

The next while is certainly uncomfortable, the four of you sitting in silence before Wilhemina guides the doctor into the room, thanking her for coming over so quickly. Unbeknownst to you, the woman was Billie's close friends, one of her celebrity acquaintances, who eventually also became Wilhemina's doctor. She was familiar with the academy and witchcraft and so it seemed more fitting. Cordelia had showed her the scans and reports from the hospital before, doing it in a private matter because she didn't want to overwhelm you. You had slipped into a little daze of sleep, before Billie wakes you gently, as she hadn't left your side for one minute. ,,Darling, this is the doctor we mentioned'' she speaks and you watch as a brunette woman looks at you, a little torch in her hand. ,,Hi Y/N, do you mind if I take a quick look?'' she speaks and you simply nod, still feeling sleepy and exhausted. The torch blinds you a little and causes for your eyes to close ,,Sweetie I need you to keep your eyes open'' Cordelia ushers softly and you comply, letting the doctor finish her tests.

,,Do you feel any discomfort, pain or nausea?'' she asks and you glance between the four of them before nodding reluctantly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with this as everything hurt and everything feels empty and confusing. ,,My head hurts'' you admit, causing for Cordelia to frown, Wilhemina's features stern as she observes, the worry almost drowning her in its intensity. And for some reason, your eyes search for the redhead who is standing opposite the bed, further away than all the others and for some reason you want to be closer to her as she seemed safe. You watch as all women leave towards the door, the doctor telling them how this wasn't uncommon given the circumstances, how she ushers something to Cordelia and wanting them to keep her in the loop, wanting to examine you closely over the next few weeks, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

By the time the three of them return, you are curled up in a ball, facing away from them, as tears prickle at your tired eyes, the confusion and pain causing you to feel a little overwhelmed, not understanding what was going on. You could feel all of these feelings, these things that you didn't understand. Cordelia's frame blurs into your vision as she kneels beside you, Billie and Wilhemina standing behind her. ,,Are you okay sweetheart?'' she asks, noticing your scared and sad expression. You don't say anything, simply blinking and letting the tears run before her hand wipes them gently, causing you to cringe at her touch, feeling overwhelmed by their presences as of right now. Cordelia senses it, her heart heavy with pain before she retracts her hand, sighing in the process ,,Would you like some space to rest?'' she speaks carefully, choosing her words in a certain way, to not overwhelm you further.

,,Yes please'' you speak quietly, causing for the blonde to nod and force a comforting smile before they leave, leaving you behind to sob into your pillow for a while before sleep washes over your tired body. They opt for Wilhemina's office in the end, as it was located right next to the bedroom, wanting to at least be a little close to you incase you needed them. Cordelia sighs, rubbing her temples in frustration before taking a seat on a nearby sofa, Billie standing nearby her arms crossed in front of her chest, her thoughts racing. Slowly, Wilhemina takes a seat in her armchair near her two girlfriends, her movements slow, matching both the physical and emotional pain the last few hours had left on her. ,,What are we going to do?'' Billie sighs, unsure what to do with herself as she begins pacing a little. ,,I think we need to be patient and give her some time'' Cordelia speaks, the doubt written on her features. ,,Like the doctor said, this can happen'' she repeats her earlier words.

,,Have either of you thought about what to do if she doesn't remember?'' Wilhemina questions, her voice and features stern as two blonde heads snap towards her. ,,She will'' Cordelia almost spits, the thought too painful for her to think it through. ,,But what if she never remembers us?'' Billie speaks, her eyes brimming with tears again. ,,We will make her remember honey, it will be alright'' Cordelia tries, walking over to Billie to wrap her in a comforting hug before glancing at Wilhemina, almost scolding her for freaking Billie out like this, despite knowing her concerns are valid and the supreme would be lying as the thought had also crossed her mind but she had pushed it down for now. ,,What are we going to do now?'' Billie asks, the other two knowing what she means as it was clear you needed some space.

,,We will go and have dinner with the girls, then we can check on her and see what to do'' Cordelia speaks softly and Billie nods, feeling safe at Cordelia's words. It takes a bit of convincing for Wilhemina to join them as she didn't feel like joining the girls, wanting to be close to you, look after you but knowing it may only make things worse as of right now. And dinner isn't exactly pleasant as your absence is noticed, Zoe and the older girls had asked and Cordelia wasn't really sure whether to fill them in, opting for now it was too soon and simply explaining that you had fallen ill and would need some rest for a few days. As Billie and Cordelia take care of the dishes and confiding in Zoe with what had happened as they needed to rely on her for a while at looking after the academy and girls, Wilhemina had opted to take some dinner and tea up to your room, carrying it in on a little tray.

As she enters the room quietly, assuming you are still asleep and struggling with both the tray and her cane a little, she is surprised to find you awake and looking at her. She smiles softly before placing the tray on the little table beside you, before clearing her throat. ,,How is the pain?'' she asks almost quietly, not wanting to cause more aching for you. ,,It's a little better'' you tell her, before she hands you some water and tablets. ,,These are painkillers from the doctor'' she explains as she watches you glance at them reluctantly but without thinking about it, you take them and she notices how you don't struggle in the slightest, her little one usually hating tablets and to take any form of medication. ,,You should eat something'' she ushers, softly handing you the tray with her shaky hands. ,,Thank you'' you whisper and smile softly at her, feeling a little less overwhelmed after some sleep.

She glances at you for a moment, before turning on her heels, thinking you still wanted some space. ,,Wilhemina?'' you ask, remembering her name from when Cordelia had told you before. ,,Yes little one?'' she asks, quickly internally scolding herself for the pet name. ,,Would you-'' you begin but stop yourself, unsure whether you could ask this of the woman. ,,What is it?'' she asks softly, taking some steps towards you again. ,,Would you mind staying with me?'' you almost whisper, before her eyes glisten a little ,,Of course Y/N'' she smiles softly, extracting a chair and sitting beside you. The room fills with silence for a while, as you eat some of the food that she had brought, also appreciating the warm tea as you felt a little cold. ,,Can you maybe tell me something?'' you ask almost reluctantly again and her head tilts a little at your request. ,,Of course, what would you like to know?'' she asks, unsure what exactly you mean.

,,Just anything?'' you ask and she feels bad then, not able to imagine what it must be like to forget, to not know anything. And so gently she fills you in about as much details as she knows about you, your age, where you are from, your favourite colour, your friends, the things you are passionate about. And you can't help but notice with how much softness and adoration she tells you those things, how kind you are, how nothing is ever too much for you as you loved helping out. She briefly mentioned you teaching at the academy and by now you assume that the place you are currently in must be said academy. ,,What academy is this?'' you ask a little confused after a while and for the first time, she halts, not instantly answering your question. ,,I- I think it's better if Cordelia explains that to you little one'' she tries and you simply leave it as that.

,,What time is it?'' you ask after a while, noticing how the room was much darker now, the sun having set a while ago. ,,It's 9pm darling'' she explains after glancing at her watch. ,,And so this is your bedroom?'' you ask after glancing around the unfamiliar room, seeing four dressers, what you assume to be on ensuite bathroom, and a large makeup table in the corner. ,,It's ours'' she explains a little hesitantly. And she can tell that this must be strange and uncomfortable ,,Do you feel like me showing you around a little?'' she asks, hoping that maybe the memories of this place would help you remember a little. ,,Yes please'' you reply, handing her back the tray she had given you, before you stand up, feeling slightly dizzy from the sudden movement but much better as the tablets are already showing their effects.

And so she takes you around the academy, first taking you to your old bedroom, now mostly empty explaining how you had lived there first before moving in with them, showing you both her and Cordelia's office, before taking you downstairs, leading you to the dining and living room, hoping that might spark something, considering the many nights you had spent together there. But by your reaction she can tell that nothing seems to ring a bell. And so at last she leads you to the kitchen where the other two blondes are still sitting and talking. As they notice you up on your feet they smile softly ,,Hey there'' Cordelia greets you warmly, taking in your features. ,,I have been showing her around'' Wilhemina announces to the other two ,,Perhaps you could show her the greenhouse Cordelia and tell her a little more about this academy'' Wilhemina ushers, her eyes speaking silently, Cordelia of course understanding what the redhead was implying. ,,Of course'' she smiles softly, before standing up. ,,Would you like to follow me outside?'' she asks you, and you nod, leaving the other two behind.

Shivering a little you take a look at the gardens, feeling the cold night air prickle at your skin a little. ,,This is the greenhouse'' she explains as the two of you enter. You glance around a little taken back and she recognises that face, sending her into a painful deja vu of when you first joined the academy and how your eyes sparkled that same way. ,,Would you like to take a seat?'' she offers, and you nod before the two of you sit in the quiet greenhouse. You glance at the blonde, for the first time really taking in her features and noticing how utterly beautiful she truly was. ,,About this academy'' she begins and you notice that same look of hesitation on her face that Wilhemina showed before. ,,This is Miss Robichaux's Academy'' she starts ,,For witches'' she carries on, startling you as your eyes widen. ,,This is a coven darling, the girls here are witches'' Cordelia explains gently, knowing this must be a lot to take in. She senses your disbelief and shock, before she places a hand on your shoulder.

,,I know this is a lot to take in'' she emphatically remarks before you look at her ,,Is this a joke?'' you ask, still in disbelief, despite having noticed some of the symbols on the tables as you entered and the countless books on potions and spells. ,,No darling'' she speaks softly again before her eyes lock with yours, trying to think of a way to prove to you that she was being genuine. ,,May I show you?'' she asks before you nod reluctantly. She walks over to one of the tables, extracting some rose petals from an earlier class, before closing her eyes and a beautiful white rose appears in front of your eyes. You gasp, your eyes flickering from the rose in her hand to her brown eyes. And then she watches the panic form across your features, as it all becomes a little overwhelming again, your head suddenly pounding again, ears ringing a little and chest rising and falling fast.

,,Okay darling, how about we get you back upstairs?'' she offers, noticing your trembling hands, before taking one into her hand and softly guiding you back inside. Once inside you find Wilhemina and Billie in the kitchen, their faces etched with concern as they notice your trembling state, already assuming the news would be a lot to take in. ,,How about we get you upstairs to bed?'' Cordelia offers but you pause, glancing between the three of them. ,,I- I don't'' you stumble over your words, feeling that same overwhelming feeling of emptiness again despite them having filled you in on more details. But it all feels too much, the thought of having to stay with them overwhelming despite the connection you feel towards them and knowing by now that they are your partners. ,,Y/N are you okay?' Billie asks, watching you seemingly struggle. ,,Can I stay in my old room?'' you blurt out, glancing at Wilhemina ,,The one you showed me?'' you ask.

Silence falls over the kitchen, Wilhemina and Billie glancing at Cordelia who stands frozen beside you, shocked at your request and utterly sad as you had always loved being close to them, always afraid of sleeping on your own. ,,I- the doctor recommended you to be under observation darling'' Billie tries, hating the idea of you being alone with all of this. ,,If that's what you want then of course, but promise to find us if you need anything?'' Cordelia offers, the other two shocked by her statement. ,,Thank you'' you breathe out almost in relief before looking at them one more time and leaving upstairs, struggling at first but eventually finding the room that Wilhemina had showed you before. ,,Why would you do that?'' Billie asks, her voice trembling before the supreme sighs ,,We need to give her time'' she announces before sighing. And so the three of them retract to their bedroom, without you, Cordelia checking on you once more and leaving some more water, pyjamas and painkiller with you, asking whether you needed anything but you politely declining. And so as the night slowly begins, neither of them manage to find much sleep, the bed feeling lonely and strange without you, feeling the urge to hold you close, the events replaying on their minds over and over again.

The next couple of days carry on like they had, you mostly spent your time on your own, the day after the accident, Cordelia had taken you to an appointment with the doctors, getting some more scans and checks done and she had worried since as you really didn't talk all that much with them, withdrawing almost. And you had felt bad ever since, the three of them really trying and showing you so much kindness. Cordelia had tried to convince you to sit in some of her classes, Wilhemina often checking on you throughout the day and Billie having left some photo albums with you. But you didn't feel ready, the headaches still returning as well as dreams at night, making it a little hard at times. A lot of questions had circled your mind and so the only thing you can do is toss and turn in bed for a while before eventually growing sick of it and sitting by the little fireplace in your room. As you glance around, you find a desk, your curiosity getting ahold of you before you open some draws, finding some books and when you read the title, the same question repeats in your mind, the question that lingered since Cordelia had filled you in on what this academy truly was.

You knew as much that this was your old room, your eyebrows furrow trying to think about whether they had mentioned anyone else staying there since. As you open the books, you find several pages on spell casting and potions and see several handwritten notes. Your eyes search the drawers until you find a pen, before it flies over a page, wanting to check whether this was your handwriting and whether you may also be a witch. The realisation ripples through you, your head hurting in that same way again as the handwriting is identical and then it dawns on you that you must also be a witch. The whole thing makes you feel sick, the lingering emptiness and confusion drowning you. You debate sleeping again but you knew it wouldn't come and so you opt for some water, the headache pounding into your skull. As you walk downstairs, you pass some witches and notice how they all smile at you, assuming they must have been your friends before. You take in the peace and quiet, hoping that you wouldn't find anyone downstairs, not necessarily in the mood after the realisation you had made.

Almost in a hurry, you rush to the kitchen, before you notice the three women that seem so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time. And you opt for leaving again before they notice your presence ,,Hi sweetheart'' Cordelia greets you with a warm smile, the other twos features equally filled with pain and longing. ,,Are you hungry honey? we kept you some dinner?'' Billie tries and you close your eyes for a moment to compose yourself. ,,No thank you'' you speak before explaining ,,I just came to get some water'' you explain, before Cordelia is quick to fetch a glass for you, before walking over and handing it to you. ,,Here you go love'' she speaks with so much love that it almost makes you feel bad for how angry and upset you are feeling at the moment. ,,Are you feeling okay? you look a little pale'' Billie Dean states, her features etched with concern.

You sigh then, trying hard to keep your emotions at bay before taking a sip from the water. ,,Sweeth-'' one of them speaks again and it bursts out of you, all the frustration, emptiness and their attempts of making you remember of making this better. ,,Can you stop'' you sigh, rubbing your head in frustration as it continues pounding. ,,Stop it with the constant petnames'' you sigh stomping your foot, their faces etched with worry and guilt. ,,And when were you going to tell me I'm a witch?'' you carry on, Wilhemina swallowing hard before glancing at the other two blondes. ,,How do you know that bab- Y/N?'' Billie asks, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. ,,I found a book in my room'' you announce, your voice matching your frustration. ,,I meant to tell you but I didn't want to overwhelm you'' Cordelia apologetically announces, her eyes filled with sadness. The room fills with silence before they notice a shift in your demeanour, your face considerably more pale, hands shaking as you hold onto the glass of water for support. ,,Are you okay Y/N?'' Cordelia tries again before taking a step towards you. ,,Please just leave me alone'' you almost shout in frustration as tears linger in your eyes ,,Y/N'' Wilhemina scolds, her cane banging on the floor once, causing for the pounding of your head to get even worse.

Without a word, you turn around, trying to ignore the stars forming in your vision and how much pain you are in. But then it all starts spinning a little too fast and you stop yourself, holding onto a nearby wall, Billie and Wilhemina standing frozen in their spot after your outburst before Cordelia rushes towards you, holding you up as your legs feel like giving in a little. ,,I don't - I'm sorry'' you whisper, closing your eyes bracing yourself for the pain. ,,I don't feel well'' you manage to somehow mutter before the blonde reaches for the glass, giving it to Billie who is now standing behind you. ,,May I take you upstairs Y/N?'' Cordelia tries, before you mutter out some sort of reply, unable to speak at this point. With a swift motion, both women are on either of your side, helping you up the stairs, Wilhemina following behind as they take you into your room, softly laying you down on your bed as hot tears stream down your cheeks. The redhead watches in pain, her heart aching seeing you in this much despair, Billie nervously pacing around a little, Cordelia taking in your features. Her hand lingers softly over your forehead, easing the pain that was so obviously written across your features and softly aiding you to sleep.

,,What is wrong with her?'' Billie asks nervously, before Cordelia turns to her. ,,I assume it's the headaches, the doctors mentioned that would happen''. And then the three of them stand there, almost a little awkwardly, feeling the urge to stay with you but knowing you wouldn't like it, given your withdrawal from them. And so they leave one by one, Wilhemina staying for a little while longer, watching protectively over your sleeping form but eventually joining her lovers a few doors away. Beside you, neither of them manage to get much sleep, Billie still crushed by the guilt of the whole thing, Cordelia's thoughts circling around what she could do to fix this, Wilhemina contemplating the outcome of you never remembering. And as the next morning arrives, they are the first downstairs, despite the weekend and opportunity to sleep in but they couldn't, not without their sunshine by their side who made weekend mornings so much brighter.

When you wake not much later, you feel almost relief as the pounding headache had stopped, as this was the first morning where you didn't wake after some very confusing dreams. The night prior lingers on your mind and you can't help but feel guilty, guilty for the way you had been treating them, withdrawing from them as they had showed you nothing but kindness. And as you change your clothes, getting ready for the morning ahead, you decide to do a little better today, wanting to try for them. When you eventually make it downstairs, the three of them are sitting by the kitchen table, Wilhemina reading the newspapers, Cordelia getting ready for something and Billie smoking a cigarette. ,,Good Morning'' your voice rings through the quiet kitchen, startling all three of them in the process as Billie almost drops her cigarette, Wilhemina lowering the newspaper. ,,Good morning Y/N, how are you feeling?'' Cordelia asks carefully, noticing how your features look much brighter and better, almost as if nothing ever happened. ,,Better, thank you'' you announce before taking a step towards them. ,,I'm sorry about last night'' you mumble, barely audible but they still pick it up. ,,I'm sorry about everything'' you apologise, their features softening.

,,You don't need to be sorry, we understand this must be a lot'' Cordelia softly reassures, offering you a seat and you hesitantly take it. ,,Are you hungry?'' Billie asks, smiling at you. You glance between the three of them before nodding ,,What would you like?'' she asks, happy to finally see you eating. ,,I- I'' you pause for a moment, unsure what you actually like. ,,I'm not sure'' you explain ,,What do I like?'' you ask and they glance between each other before Cordelia smiles ,,Let me make you your favourite Y/N'' and within minutes, you find a plate with eggs, some pancakes and orange juice in front of you. ,,Thank you'' you smile warmly at her before beginning to eat, your mouth watering as soon as you take some bites. ,,So what are you three doing today?'' you ask, causing Wilhemina's eyebrow to raise, surprised at your sudden change and as Billie and Cordelia begin speaking, it almost feels as it had before. ,,And I need to go to the markets today'' Cordelia announces before you look up at her ,,May I come with you?'' you ask, completely taking her by surprise.

The blonde looks at Billie and Mina who are equally surprised, Billie's heart swelling a little and the smallest smirk playing on the redheads lips. ,,Of course Y/N, I'd be delighted'' she announces. And so, Cordelia takes you to the markets, the car ride this time filled with conversation as you ask her all sorts of questions about witches and how you became one, asking about the things you used to be able to do and her filling you in with as much detail as possible. And it feels good, being in her embrace, her warm features, how she takes you around the markets, showing you her favourite stalls, taking you to a candle one and showing you her favourite scents, taking you food shopping and getting some ingredients to make your favourite things. And as Cordelia makes one last stop, you waiting in the car, you can't help but enjoy her presence, liking how warm she was, how ethereal beautiful both inside and out and as you return, you can't help but feel a little flutter in your heart. ,,How was it?'' Billie asks, the two of them still in the kitchen as you both return.

,,It was really nice'' you announce as you help the supreme empty the bags, despite her saying you should rest but you felt good and so you didn't want to rest. After unpacking most things, you find a bag with medication, assuming she picked those up on her last stop and instinctively you place them in front of Wilhemina. ,,Mina your medicine'' you speak, without thinking about it further. However, when you see her shocked expression, the other two equally startled, confusion washes over you again. ,,Y/N?'' Cordelia asks ,,How did you know that?'' her eyebrows are furrowed, Wilhemina's features very serious as you hadn't called her Mina since the accident. Billie looks at you with so much anticipation that you feel bad ,,I'm not sure'' you admit, scared to disappoint them again. ,,I'm sorry'' you mumble, feeling some tears brim in your eyes. ,,Hey, it's okay'' Cordelia reassures, her hand reaching for yours instinctively. And this time, you let her take it, holding onto her as she seemed safe for now.

The same pain in your head quickly takes over again, causing for you to take a step back, realising that maybe it was best to get some rest like Cordelia had initially suggested. ,,I'm.. going to rest for a bit if that's okay'' you speak softly, only met with understanding from your girlfriends, their gazes reassuring with a hint of concern. And as you return to your bedroom, you quickly fall asleep after taking a painkiller, unbeknownst that your memories must be connected to the random pains you would get throughout the days. They let you rest for the remainder of the day, Wilhemina bringing you some dinner in the evening and putting it on your bedside table as you are still asleep. The next day you had agreed to sit in on one of Cordelia's classes and so after breakfast with Mina and Billie, you make your way to the greenhouse, a lot of other witches already sitting and waiting for the potion class to begin. You listen intensively to the supreme, talking about the different herbs and ingredients, having somewhat of a hard time concentrating as again her beauty absolutely took you back. She looked stunning today, one of her black dresses, and you couldn't help but smile, despite it being ever so small, again you could feel the butterflies in your stomach, her voice so soft, her eyes burning with desire for her teaching.

As she begins to explain the last step for the potion, you can't help but feel your eyebrows furrowing before you begin speaking ,,Delia- isn't it supposed to be this one?'' you question, pointing towards one of the other vials and this time the whole class turns around. They had known by now what had happened and seeing your girlfriends shocked expression, you could tell you must have just said something incredibly stupid. ,,Class is dismissed for now'' Cordelia's voice rings through the air. They leave, Zoe exchanging knowing glances and you sit there, awaiting your fate and being told off. ,,How did you know that sweetie?'' she asks as she approaches you and then it kinda dawns on you that you had been remembering, despite it being ever so slowly. The blonde notices your hesitation, before taking another step towards you ,,This is good Y/N, you are remembering'' she smiles, her eyes brimming with tears but the happy feeling is quickly replaced by the returning pounding headache. And instead of sharing with her or them what was bothering you, the pain that had been lingering, you again retreat to your own bedroom, wanting some peace and quiet, away from everyone.

The next time you wake up, you had again slept through dinner and most of the day, again finding a tray on your beside, knowing it was from Billie this time as she always put some extra snacks on your tray for you. Curiously, you make your way downstairs, feeling a strange longing to the three women that apparently are your everything. You felt the urge to sit beside them, be in their presence. And you sigh in relief, seeing them sit in front of the tv, Wilhemina in her armchair doing some knitting, Cordelia on the sofa, chatting to Billie who is sitting on another armchair, as the two of them talk about something. You linger by the doorway for a minute, taking in the scene in front of you and strangely feeling like an intruder, as if you didn't belong. But your heart told you otherwise and so you clear your throat gently, startling the three of them and causing their heads to snap towards you. ,,Hi'' you awkwardly say, glancing around the room ,,Sweet- Y/N are you okay?'' Cordelia asks, their faces etched with concern. ,,Yes- um- may I sit with you?'' you ask, the two blondes face beaming with excitement, a small smile tugged on Wilhemina's lips. Instinctively, you opt for the space next to Cordelia besides your redhead girlfriend and again it doesn't go by unnoticed as that was where you usually sat, including in that same way.

This time they don't say anything, having noticed how their pointing out seems to only overwhelm you further. Yet they exchange knowing glances. Billie notices how you seem quite taken back and interested in what's on tv and it doesn't cross her mind until then that her show was playing in the background. She sees your features focusing on the scenes, Billie not in any of the scenes as of right now ,,Is this your show?'' you ask as you glance at her and again the three of them are taken back by how you would know that, unsure whether either of them may have managed it in the past. ,,Yes darling'' Billie announces. A little while later, the image is almost as it had been before, Billie now snuggled up on the sofa besides Cordelia, you also in the blondes arms slightly as she opted for putting an arm around you and you not refusing. Wilhemina sitting beside you three and watching with pride and the image gives her hope. She had struggled with the idea of you not remembering lately but seeing your milestones makes her unbelievably proud. As you continue watching her show, you suddenly feel an unsettling feeling in your stomach, the feeling of doom, that something was coming, something was severely off.

And then as if by some miracle, your mind is flooded with images, voices, scenes that you can't pinpoint. Your eyes widen as you vividly remember floating in the air, the screams of someone calling for help, confusing pictures of Cordelia's hands filled with blood, your blood. Suddenly your whole body shakes in the blondes arms, startling the three of them. ,,Y/N- are you okay?'' the redhead asks, noticing your shocked and yet unreadable expression. Cordelia's hand reaches for yours, trying to offer you reassurance but you freeze for a moment, unable to process everything your brain was currently throwing at you. ,,Sorry I- I'm tired'' you speak quickly before heading upstairs, leaving behind your three concerned girlfriends. ,,Do you think it was the show that triggered her?'' Billie sighs, walking over to her bag to sneak away for the comfort of a cigarette. ,,I'm not sure'' Cordelia speaks, her face filled with hesitation and concern, unsure why you had been reacting the way you did. Eventually, they opt for bed, choosing to give you some space, thinking that was what you would prefer, but despite that, neither of them could find much sleep, the concern and grief about you losing your memories and them losing their little sunshine, lingering on their minds.

If they had checked on you, they would have found you pacing through your old bedroom, occasionally curling into a ball on your bed, before pacing again as it seems that all your memories are returning. It was painful and slow, the first memories returning from the accident and the hospital, those ones particularly triggering. After followed all the good ones, each one from your girlfriends, before some more painful ones followed. And it hurt, your body on fire, as well as your mind, the throbbing in your head almost knocking the breath from your lungs. It felt like you were going through some weird magic ritual, wondering for a second whether Cordelia may have done something but knowing your Delia would never do this without your consent. And then at last, after several hours it finally stops, your ears ringing a little as the pain lingers but having sufficiently decreased. And then your eyes widen again, suddenly remembering it all, your heart weighing heavy with the guilt, not remotely able to understand how horrible these few weeks must have been with you like this. And then it dawns on you how much had been withdrawing, almost in disbelief to be in your old bedroom.

And then with steps as quick as light, you burst through your door, quickly making your way towards your real bedroom, hesitating for a moment but then the longing wins. Opening the door, not caring you find the three of them in bed, Wilhemina and Cordelia instantly jolt up, seeing your slightly panicked expression, Billie slowly turning around, a little confused. ,,Mina'' you whisper as you take in her appearance, as if you had just woken up, as if you are seeing her again for the first time in weeks. ,,Mina'' you cry her name out now, tears streaming down your cheeks. Cordelia's worried brown eyes meet her redhead lover's. And Wilhemina is quick to aid to your side, balancing on her cane before standing in front of you, her hand softly wiping your tears ,,What is it little one?'' she asks, her features soft but filled with concern. ,,I- I remember'' you stutter, and as you look up at her, her own tears greet you. She doesn't say anything, simply pulling you forward and into her arms, your head leaning against her chest, before Cordelia kneels in front of you, causing you to leave Wilhemina's arms for a moment. ,,Sweetie?'' she asks carefully, as if to make sure it really was you. ,,Delia-'' you cry out, your faces equally crumbling in front of each other. ,,My god- I'm so sorry'' you cry out, but Cordelia is quick to take you into her arms, tears of relief, rolling down her cheeks.

,,What is it?'' Billie's voice rings through the air but as she meets Wilhemina's expression, she instantly knows. ,,Oh- babydoll'' Billie whispers, quickly on her feet to equally take you into her arms. And in the end, the four of you are sitting on your bed, finally having you back where you belong. And for hours, you seem to apologise, for withdrawing, for not remembering sooner, for staying in your old bedroom. But they are quick to shush each of those thoughts, making you understand that this wasn't your fault and that they feel like they owe you an apology. ,,I'm so sorry this happened to you babydoll'' Billie apologises and by the way her voice shakes, you can tell she was blaming herself still. ,,This wasn't your fault Billie'' you reassure, before you ask Cordelia how they dealt with those spirits in the end and her filling you in. And then a silence follows, a comfortable one, finally being with your lovers again, finally remembering just why you loved each of them so much. For a while, you spent some time on Billie's lap, her telling you over and over again how brave you had been, snuggling into you, before the blonde softly falls asleep, content with having her babydoll back. Next you find yourself in Delia's arms, the blonde listening contently how you ended up remembering, her face crumbling as you explained the depths of pain you had gone through. ,,You were so brave sweetheart'' she tells you over and over again, eventually kissing you good night, content to have her little sunshine back.

And at last, you find yourself in Wilhemina's arms, your head resting comfortably on her chest as you look up at her features. It was dark, the only light source the moon illuminating the coven slightly, it was quiet, Billie and Delia's snoring softly filling the room. And then Wilhemina breaks it, telling you how glad she was to have you remember, how sorry she was and how proud she was of you. Her words are quiet, delicate and so unlike her usual demeanour. You snuggle into her further, feeling safe with her arms wrapped around you. ,,The truth is little one- I could never do this without you'' she admits and when you meet her brown eyes, you tear up again, her words so raw, filled with honesty as she fights back her walls and usual sternness keeping her from revealing her feelings like that. And so, the two of you hold onto each other through the night, eventually sleep washing over you both. Wilhemina content with having her little one back. And so after a long journey, you finally are back where you belong, right there, right now, with them.

#cordelia goode #sarah paulson #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #billie dean howard #sarah paulson x reader #asks #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode imagine #wilhemina venable x reader #billie dean howard x reader

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tatsumessy · 9 months

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i missed you too - {roronoa zoro}

zoro was never used to having to worry about someone, except for luffy mostly. but after your confession in the forest on Zou he couldn’t stop thinking about you. especially when you left to go get sanji from big mom. so he had to settle with waiting until you showed up in wano with everyone else.

what he didn’t expect was to not being able to sleep at night and drinking more because he was worried for your wellbeing. you could fight but not like him or sanji and for one didn’t have any devil fruit powers. you were kind of apart of the nami, usopp and chopper group. kind of weak. but you were sneaky and observant, that’s what he liked about you and admired about you.

what he also didn’t expect was to be walking through a town and seeing a familiar face selling flowers at a small flower shop towards the center of town. he rushed over practically pushing your customers out the way, “y/n!!” he shouted with a big smile, the look of shock on your face amazed him as you calmly apologized to your customers. “zorojuro please wait back here while i finish up here. i’m sorry my husband’s been away for a while and as you can tell he missed me.” you laughed awkwardly while handing the woman the bouquet of flowers her husband just purchased.

after they left zoro uncharacteristically grabbed you by your hips and sat you down on his lap. before you could say anything he leaned in and pressed a kiss on your lips, “z-zorojuro. what are you doing?” you asked covering his mouth, “i’m kissing you.” “not in public zorojuro.” you whispered with a small blush on your cheek noticing an old woman coming up to your stand.

as you worked with more and more customers zoro started getting fidgety so after taking a swig from his sake he then decided to take a nap until you closed up for the day. “hey wake up.” you said shoving him in his side, he groaned and started opening his eyes expecting to see you but instead he was met with a horribly disguised usopp infront of him.

“my shops closed, are you going to sleep here all night ?” you asked watching him stand up and get his stuff together, “i’m stayin with you y/n.” usopp gave you a weary look but you waved him off and started walking down the lit up street with zoro not far behind you. after a little bit you finally reach the building you’ve been staying in ever since arriving there.

“just to let you know luffy isn’t here. he sent me ahead of everyone by myself. i’ve only gotten in contact with Orubi and Usopp. so for now i’ve been laying low-” you froze as zoro closed the door behind the two of you and started stripping himself of his kimono. “what are you doing?” you asked a blushing mess. zoro didn’t know himself what he was doing but the feeling of wanting you, all of you was strong and he needed to feast immediately.

“are we alone in this building?” he asked slipping his arms out the top part, you nodded your head yes and in an instant zoro had you pinned against the wall and you were attacked with his lips locked onto yours.

when you woke the very next day zoro was gone, tears weld in your eyes as you thought back to last night and before you could bring any negative thoughts into your head the door slid open and and zoro walked in with a sack full of food. “why’re cryin?” he asked setting the stuff down and plopping himself on the ground next to you. covering yourself with your green kimono you stared at the ground feeling embarrassed for crying.

“i thought you left.” you said slowly slipping your clothes back on, “no i was sure you were going to hungry. so i got you some food.” he said laying his head on your lap while closing his eyes, you sat there still trying to process what was going on. “i didn’t want too leave. i missed you so any chance i get to be with you i’ll be here.” he said with his eyes still closed, blushing again you smiled turning away from him and towards the bag of food.

“i guess you do care about me huh?” you said teasingly sticking a piece of fried tofu in your mouth, “shut up idiot.”

p.s this is a part two zoro version to i missed you

#zoro x reader #one piece zoro #op zoro #roronoa zoro #pirate hunter zoro #zoro #ronoroa zoro #roronora zoro #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro x oc #one piece #op #one piece roronoa zoro #op roronoa zoro #daddy zoro

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stagkingswife · 2 months

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Take Notes Like Stag Part 3: Spell Lab Notes

Part 1: Spirit Encounters Part 2: Unrecorded Entity Note Taking Exercise I think I’ve said this somewhere before, I don’t know if it was here, or on Discord, I’m a huge believer in applying the scientific method to spell work. I don’t believe that magic can be explained by science, or that it’s an extension of science. But I do believe that an approach of empirical observation, incremental variable adjustment, and repeat experimentation is a great way to develop a solid spell work practice. This is how I figured out a lot of my own methods and personal magical paradigms - by testing something, making notes, changing a variable, and then testing again - rinse and repeat. There’s a lot to keep track of in that process though, particularly if you’re rinse and repeat step keeps repeating, so over the years I’ve developed a template of “lab notes” to keep track of my experiments. Spell Friendly Name - A brief concise, yet descriptive title. • The idea of a “friendly name” is something I stole from my IT day job. A lot of hardware devices come with their network name set as their serial number, or model number, or something like that. Those sorts of names can be fine for a sys or network admin, but it’s not super helpful for a normal person - so it’s an important step up setting up that device to give it a name that is immediately recognizable and descriptive of its role on the network: Like HR Printer, or [Company Name] File Server. When you’re testing and workshopping spells it’s important to be able to distinguish them from one another in your notes. You don’t want a dozen pages in a row all titled “Prosperity Spell” but they’re all different spells. Make sure your Friendly Names are descriptive, catchy, and above all stay consistent across your notes for subsequent re-casts.

Date Cast - The day (and time if it matters to you) that you cast the spell • I’m not one for celestial or planetary magic, so I don’t care much about when I cast the spell for magical correspondence reasons. I care mostly in relation to the next field -

Time Frame/ ”Due Date” - When you expect the spell manifest result by. • I’m a big believer in setting yourself time frames for your spells - it’s much easier to tell if a spell has succeeded or failed if you have a due date for it. So I mark my time frame as part of my notes, however I built it into my spell: two weeks, by the next rainfall, before the turn of the season, by an exact date. Keeping this due date next to the date of casting helps me keep track of how long is left for the spell to work. Parameters for Success - What an ideal successful result looks like to you. • We all know that sometimes spells manifest in funny ways that can still technically be called “successful”. You phrased the inscription of your prosperity spell as “looking for a windfall” only to get a bunch of free apples at the farm stand because they had a windstorm and have to get rid of all of the apples that fell? Technically you got a windfall, but it wasn’t what you wanted. So you recast the spell and this time phrase the inscription as, “you want to come into money.” Well this time a great aunt dies and leaves you an inheritance. We all know these examples, I’m not saying anything new. But I find that keeping track of exactly what I quantify as “success” helps me troubleshoot my spells. Is my parameter of success for this theoretical prosperity spell specifically that I get a raise at work? Then I say it here. Am I open to alternatives? List them here. Materials: Function - Your ingredients list: what role of each ingredient is in the spell • I vastly prefer to create my own spells, I find I can tinker and troubleshoot better with something I have written myself because I understand how everything is meant to work, and how it all works together. I list out every single ingredient and what its job is in the spell, not just ingredients being used for magical correspondences. I include lines like, “paper & pen (mundane): for the writing of inscription” or “mortar & pestle: for grinding herb blend.” But then I’ll also have lines like “Nettle: used here for personal association with emotion, a la Aunt Betty and her nettle tea,” referencing a personal magical association I have within my own paradigm. This may be overkill for some people, but it keeps my spell work neat and organized and I never have to wonder what an ingredient is supposed to be doing when I want to recast a spell.

Method: Function - Steps of the spell, written in order, with some form of annotation or commentary on what each step is supposed to achieve magically. • This step of my note taking I get a little messy, to be honest. It works best when I have different colored pens and have had time to pre-plan. When these conditions have been met my notes look like code. There will be a step written out, then on the next line ## and a color change to indicate the beginning of my comments. If I didn’t pre-plan, I usually still have two different colored pens - even if it’s just black and blue, so I’ll write out my steps in order and rely on marginalia for my comments. It’s not as organized, and my handwriting gets cramped and hard to read sometimes, but just like the ingredients lists I like to know not just what every step is doing, but why.

Adjusted Variable(s)* - If you’re recasting a spell what have you changed from the last time and how do you expect that to affect your result.

• If I cast a spell and am not happy with the results (maybe those parameters for success I noted earlier weren’t met to my satisfaction) I don’t go looking for a new spell, I troubleshoot. I start making changes to spell and keeping track of the change in this field of my notes. I note what exactly the change is: Am I adding something, removing something, trying a different method, etc. Then I write down a hypothesis (remember that word from science class?) for how I think this adjustment will change how the spell manifests. *I leave this field blank or out of my note entirely if I’m taking notes for the first casting of a spell, or re-casting a “known good” spell (one that I know works exactly as is - usually because I’ve cast it before and already gone through the troubleshooting and refining process). Observed Manifestation - The counterpart to Parameters for Success, what actually happened as a result of the spell - to be left blank and filled out on or after the Time Frame/”Due Date” is up. • If these notes were a science class lab notebook, which they were 100% inspired by, this would be the results section. What actually happened!?! Maybe nothing happened! Write that here. Maybe your prosperity a week and a half after you cast your prosperity spell your boss said you were killing it at work and that you were going to get a promotion! Maybe the spell totally backfired! Be honest with yourself about your results, these notes are for you to build on. I have pages and pages of notes where either nothing happened, or the results were just off from what I really wanted. But I kept troubleshooting, and now I have a roster of spells that I am really confident in. Adjustments for Next Cast: If you have an idea for what you want to change next time, write it down now. You won’t remember when you come back to it. • I usually like to write up my results and then do some brainstorming for next time. I try to only change one thing at a time, isolate the variable and all that, but I will often have several ideas for things that could improve the results, so I’ll brainstorm in this field and then highlight the one I want to try next somehow, either by underlining or marking with a star. Then that option goes into the “Adjusted Variable” field for the next time.

#witchcraft #witchblr #spellcraft #spellwork #spells #grimoire #book of shadows

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gennemi · 5 months

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𝑺𝒆𝒏̃𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒂 (𝑷𝒕.𝟐 𝒕𝒐 𝑴𝒚 𝑶𝒉 𝑴𝒚)

A/N: it's finished! And I would like to thank my freind for helping me a bit with this! I hope you guys love it! I will work on pt. 3 soon just gonna take a small break! And think of ideas while I do so! 🖤 the moodboard for this chapter will be made soon! 🖤

Warnings: heavy flirting, pining? Slight sexual tension.

Song

Let me know if the link doesn't work!🖤

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It was a few days after the party, she was sitting in her room. Brushing out her hair, her mind drifted to that certain Warlord, the way he had held her smaller form close to him that night, was lodged in her brain, the way he danced around with her, their bodies so close to each other. You can definitely feel the sexual tension between the two. Her mind continued to think about that said man, she had a gut feeling that she would never see that man again, unless fate as people would say, would allow them to cross paths again. She let out a soft sigh, as if that would ever happen.

She heard a knock at her door, which brought her out of her daydream about that hawk-eyed Warlord. “Come in!” She said before her father walked in. She looked at him in curiosity. “I’m heading out, I’ll be gone for a few days.” He spoke, earning a nod from the girl. After saying their goodbyes he headed off, she let out another low sigh. Her mind drifted back to that Warlord, but she quickly shook it off. Her dad will certainly forbid it, he was a strict person who hated pirates, and he certainly didn’t like the Warlords either. He never understood the fact of why the Warlords even existed anyways.

She decided that since he won’t be here for a few days, she had to keep herself occupied of course, so why not go to the local bar? And hangout there for a bit, she did just that. It wasn’t a big bar, she’s been here a couple of times, always choosing wine. They had a good variety of vintage wine. She sat down on one of the many barstools, and ordered her favorite kind of wine, which was a simple classic Red Wine. She was taking small sips, not noticing the man that sat next to her until she heard his voice… it was familiar. “Red Wine.” The smooth voice said from beside her. She snuck a glance at the man beside her, her eyes went wide.

It was him, he was in the same getup that he wore that night they met, and danced. She was feeling a lot of different emotions, mostly shock. She thought the chances of them ever meeting again were low, but he was right there beside her, causing her to not only be shocked, but

flustered. As she started to remember more of that night at the party. Him being the observant person he is, noticed she was looking at him. His hawk-like eyes looked right at her, observing her. His eyes slightly widened, as if he was shocked to see her again. “Seems we meet again~.” he spoke, looking at her with his golden eyes.

All she could do was nod quietly, as she looked at the stunning man beside her, she felt her face flush red as she couldn’t help but just stare at him, not uttering a word. “Cat got your tongue Darling?~” He purred flirtily, he couldn’t help the deep chuckle that escaped his mouth at her flustered face. “I didn’t t-think i w-would see you a-again.” All the woman could stutter out, as she looked into those gorgeous eyes of his. At this point, she wasn't sure if she should be cursing at fate or be thankful for it given the man beside her. “I didn't think so either darling, but yet here we are. And might I say it's a pleasant surprise.~” He purred, with a smirk appearing on his face. Her face went bright red.

He let out a low chuckle, amused by how he can easily make this woman blush. “I haven't properly introduced myself have I? Dracule Mihawk, but you can just call me Mihawk darling.~” He spoke, looking at her the whole time. “And what is the name of the lovely Señorita beside me.~” He purred. “Y-Y/N.” She shyly introduced herself, as she put her hand out as if to shake hands, but he surprised her by bringing her smaller hand up to his lips, and giving it a soft kiss. “It's a pleasure to meet the lovely beauty that has captured my interest.~” He flirtily spoke, that deep voice of his was stirring thoughts in her mind, it was so hot. “Y-You as well.” Y/N stuttered out, her face flushed. This man was making her very flushed, very hot, and very bothered.

A few drinks in, she gained some courage to flirt back, everytime he would flirt with her. “So what brings a handsome man like yourself to this island?~” She flirtily asked as she took a sip of her wine. “Well I was simply just passing through.~” He mused, looking at her. There was definitely some tension in the air between them, just like that night. “And what about you my dear? What brings you to the bar?” he inquired before sipping on his cup of red wine. “Dad isn't gonna be home for a while and I just decided to come down to the bar to kick back and relax.” she answered before adding on a giggle. “He would be upset if he knew that I was here and talking to a sexy man like you.~” She giggled softly, but at this point she didn’t care what her dad would ever think, she was an adult. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself.

He let out a deep chuckle at her words, it caused her heart to skip a beat. This man was gonna be the death of her, she barely knew who this man was. She's of course heard a lot about the Warlord. But damn she was attracted to this beautiful man beside her. “Is that so?” Mihawk hummed in slight amusement. She took another sip of her fourth cup of wine. “Yup, my dad he isn’t a fan of pirates, let alone the Warlords, he doesn’t think they should even exist, that the world doesn’t need Warlords.” She didn’t agree with her father's opinion on the whole thing to do with the Seven Warlords.

“Is that so?” the man hummed again before going quiet. “I can understand that pirates are bad. But are all the Warlords bad?” She asked him, looking into his hawk-like eyes with her E/C eyes. She couldn’t help but get so lost in them that she didn't even hear his response. She was so lost in his golden eyes, that it rendered the woman speechless, as the two just stared at each other. He then cleared his throat to get her attention.

“That is up to you to decide darling.” he answered, looking as if trying to understand her through just her eyes. Y/N couldn't help but lick her lips unconsciously from the hard stare the man was giving her. “I m-mean you don't s-seem to bad.” She managed to stutter out. Causing the man to let a small smirk grace his handsome features. “Now,now darling you shouldn’t be letting your guard down around just anyone.~” He purred softly, as he lifted his hand to softly move a strand of hair from her face, all the while he continued to have that smirk on his face. She felt breathless, as she continued to look into his eyes.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have such beautiful eyes?” She blurted out suddenly, taking the Warlord by surprise. “Well no, usually when people look into my eyes. They get scared to even remotely compliment them.” He hummed out a reply, he was feared by many. He wasn’t one to be messed with he didn’t have the title “Strongest Swordsmen” for shits and giggles, he had that title, cause the man worked hard to get that title, when people even remotely hear his name they get scared, people fear the said man. People even called him other names, Hawkeye, because of his hawk-like golden eyes was one of those many names people gave the Warlord. Such things have never bothered him before, so for the woman in front of him to say such a thing… “Well you have some pretty eyes, Mihawk.” She said, as she got lost in his eyes again. He didn’t really know what to say to that compliment, he’s used to not very good things said about him, which never affected the man, never bothered him. That hearing such a compliment from the woman beside him, stirred something in the man.

An hour of the two talking, turned into two hours. She realized it was getting late. “I should be getting home, it's getting pretty late.” She spoke, causing the Warlord to stand up. “I’ll walk you home.” He offered, she smiled softly. “I would love that.” She giggled softly. The two walked side by side, making small conversation as they walked.

“This is me.” she said. He grabbed her hand softly and brought it to his lips kissing it softly. “It was nice seeing you again darling, until next time.~” He purred gently, as he gave her a soft smirk, turning to leave. She watched as he left…. Wondering if she will ever see the handsome Warlord again.

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First Part

#gennemi writes #one piece #dracule mihawk x reader #op mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk

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cosmicdream222 · 2 months

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congratulations on waking up in the void angel🥹 i know you said you didn’t do anything but would you do anything during the day? like listen to subs? if so which ones? i also want to enter the void so your advice would be greatly appreciated! thank you!

Hi thank you! I have been trying all the things the past few months, but I’ve done some things differently since last week that I think have helped.

First is observing my thoughts/keeping a mental diet 24/7 - not letting my overactive monkey mind react to circumstances and pull me back into a victim state. Legit refusing to let myself feel like a victim, when something negative occurs I talk myself out of it and affirm the heck out of the opposite.

Working on self concept in general. Listening to self concept subs & affs. Saturating with affs. I went in my notes app and made blocks of simple affs for different topics, then printed it out like so:

I leave them around everywhere and stick them inside of cabinets, on the fridge etc. I recite them (out loud or in my head) when I see them, and before bed I read the whole list out loud while tapping.

I have been listening to a ton of different subs over the past few months for every possible topic but I’ve been more discerning lately. Now I’ve mostly been listening to subs for self concept, physical & mental health, lucid dreaming, void, and shifting. I’ve made my own subs & aff tapes (posted some here but have like 20+ more 🤪) which I listen to depending on my mood.

IWIIGI is my fave because she knows loa, and her subs are all a consistent brown noise that I can listen to while sleeping or other things without distraction. I joined her Patreon so I’ve been listening to a ton of hers. Also really like Violet Daze, loa-based subs for self concept, manifesting, revision, and she has void & shifting ones too.

This is my personal playlist of favorite void subs I use regularly (there are a couple shifting related ones on there if it’s not your thing, but they’re clearly labeled). The first IWIIGI void one is from her Patreon so make sure to support her if you like her subs!

Good luck 💕

#manifesting #affirmations #void state affirmations #loa #subliminals

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thebibutterflyao3 · 1 month

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Day Twenty-Three - Train @sapphicmicrofics

April Daily Series - 563 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

“What’s this?” Marlene’s voice was directly behind her now. She’d apparently grown tired of sifting through the box of memories and moved on to the corkboard beside Dorcas’s bed.

Dorcas released a stream of smoke through the window. “What does it look like?

“Pandora called it a ‘shrine.’”

The harsh scoff clipped Dorcas’s throat on the way out. “Then it’s an awfully shitty shrine.”

Marlene hummed a note of disagreement, but didn’t argue. She was far less combative today, which should have been suspicious, but Dorcas didn’t have the energy to defend herself. The tension she’d carried since Marlene’s arrival wore her down.

“I miss my old number. The team gave it to someone else when I left Scotland. I’m number thirty now.”

Dorcas tried to ignore the tug of nostalgia. She’d spent so many hours behind protective glass watching her girlfriend’s #14 jersey with rapt attention, clocking every shift in her stance and clawing back the urge to rush onto the ice to protect her when the other team crowded her net. Often, she left games with scratches on her chest from blindly grappling for Marlene’s lucky charm, an Irish claddagh ring from her grandmother that she wore around her neck.

“Thirty is a solid number,” Dorcas said, idly tapping her cigarette out the window. “Especially doubled on your jersey, front and back. It’s related to career success.”

“Really? That’s good to know.”

Marlene moved closer and plopped on the bench. “Be honest with me, Cas. Do you want me to step on that train tomorrow? Will you miss me?”

“My feelings won’t change the outcome, so why does it matter?” Dorcas asked.

“You don’t know that.”

Dorcas flicked the dying cherry off of her cigarette and rolled the filter between her fingers. “I know that you won’t leave your team and long-distance doesn’t work. I know that you run when it hurts. Nothing has changed.”

“A few things have changed, actually. My team went recreational. We have scrimmages, but don’t compete. My gigs are mostly at local clubs, but I travel a bit too. I have a show in London in two weeks,” Marlene said, shifting closer. “I can send you tickets, if you want.”

“And the cowardice?” Dorcas prompted. “Still fleeing if it’s hard? I haven’t gone soft since you left.”

Marlene sighed theatrically. “I should hope not. I always liked your sharp wit and pointy elbows.”

“Hilarious.”

Charming, as always. I wish she’d stop.

“I’m here now, Cas. If I didn’t bolt out of here when you told me off the first night and I didn’t run after making a complete arse of myself yesterday morning, isn’t that proof that I’m not quite the coward I used to be?”

Dorcas rested her temple against the window and closed her eyes. The cold glass tempered her frustration a bit as she returned her attention to the people below. She preferred this distance over the six inches between her hip and Marlene’s. From here, she could see the bigger picture and remain an unbiased observer. In this room, she was a reluctant participant and couldn’t find a shred of objectivity.

“I suppose that is progress,” Dorcas admitted, her gaze trailing a couple across the street. They were holding hands and smiling at each other.

“Enough progress?” Marlene asked. “For you to think about it? About us?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Next Part>>>

#dorlene microfics #dorlene #marlene x dorcas #marlene mckinnon x dorcas meadows #dorcas x marlene #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #marauders era #slytherin skittles #modern marauders

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jupiterswasphouse · 30 days

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BUGSNAX - A REVIEW

A few days ago, I fully finished and 100% completed this game, and I'm very happy to have finally done so! Here are my thoughts, under the cut! (Skip to the end if you just want a quick overview of each point)

As evidenced by the fact I completed the game, I enjoyed Bugsnax a lot! Which I'm happy to be able to say upon playing it myself after having watched other people (Namely Snapcube, all the way back in 2021) play it in the past. It's a nice change of pace from the other kinds of games I've played in recent times, and a type of game I can't say off the top of my head that I've really experienced before. I've played my share of creature collectors but those were mostly RPGs, like the Pokémon games, whereas Bugsnax takes the concept into a full 3D space where you don't exactly battle the Bugsnax but, rather, you trap them!

Forgive the comparison I'm about to make but it's almost like you're pranking the wildlife of this island, tricking them in various ways to get them into your backpack. It starts off as simple as just waiting for Bugsnax to wander into your trap, and for a handful of species it stays that way, but with the wide variety of them available to you and which you're expected to catch, it becomes more complicated very quickly! The game can become slightly repetitive at points, especially having to refight bosses for 100% completion, but they vary things up enough with tools and specific catching conditions that it never became boring for me. I'd say that Bugsnax is almost a puzzle game in that way, trying to figure out what combination of things catches what Bugsnax. Although some of said 'capturing puzzles' are easy to cheese, or come up with multiple solutions for.

Despite that, though, Bugsnax can be a challenge for the brain! Like any good puzzle, the solution can be difficult to piece together right away at times, making for engaging gameplay that keeps you thinking. That's a great thing, as it's really the only challenge there is in the game. Bugsnax does not have a fail state nor any lives to lose, no matter how much the aggressive Bugsnax try and no matter how many times you light yourself on fire in the middle of Snaxburg. Bugsnax simply isn't a very difficult meal to swallow! Which isn't a bad thing.

As a side note on the gameplay too, the game does keep you busy with a multitude of main quests, side quests, and letter quests, giving you many reasons to want to catch all of these Bugsnax!

Speaking of the titular Bugsnax, though, they're a very interesting bunch! With 112 of them to find (after the release of the free DLC), the variety of designs on display is wonderfully creative and charming. Yes, some of the designs are reused and retextured, but that's perfectly acceptable and to be expected when you're capable of transforming almost every NPC using said Bugsnax!

They're certainly interesting to observe and speculate on how they came to be! They're not anything that could exist in our world, but that's kind of the point! They do, however, interact with each other in some ways you might expect from wild beasts, fighting with each other and accidentally running into each other on occasion. Bunger, Spuddy (Beetle-like Bugsnax), Preying Picantis (A mantis-like Bugsnak), and Scoopy Banoopy (A giant water bug-like Bugsnak) being as aggressive as they are, while played up for gameplay purposes, does mirror how strong and combative these insects are in the real world! Although, you never see these Bugsnax eat each other, nor at all apart from when you specifically toss sauce at them, making it unclear how they survive apart from eating said sauce, even though the ending goes some way into explaining that, to an extent. Even still, not much that truly needs to be explained goes unexplained when it comes to them

Of course, the creativity and good design of the Bugsnax would mean nothing without an equally charming world and set of colorful characters to go along with them! The game does not disappoint there either, making for quite the feast for the eyes. The biomes are lovely, and environmentally tell you quite a bit about the history of the island, from the crashed ship on the beach of Boiling Bay to the cave scrawlings of Garden Grove and the clear existence of a long gone civilization in Scorched Gorge and the isle of Broken Tooth! Meanwhile, the NPCs, the Grumpuses, have wonderfully charming designs, resembling muppets to an extent, all distinct and fun designs but still simple enough to fit in with the impressive mechanic of 'Snakification' without being too disturbing... Most of the time

Heads up! The next section goes into SPOILER TERRITORY, if you want to save the story for when you play it yourself, skip to the next chunk of bold text

When it comes to the story that surrounds all of the Grumpuses, it continues to be quite the charming game, with its comedic flair, colorful personalities, and sweet personal moments. However, it's not a conflictless experience (Nor should it have been!), with many characters fighting and having problems that range from Wiggle being afraid of being a one-hit-wonder and struggling to create her next masterpiece, to Snorpy struggling to communicate his feelings to Chandlo while Chandlo worries about the unhealthy amount of stress that Snorpy is going through, to Beffica being unable to hold a friendship because of her own actions and being afraid that she won't be able to ever have anyone close to her. It doesn't pull its punches, especially once you get around to helping them with some of these issues in the sidequests!

The biggest issue that requires being solved however is the driving force of the game, getting everyone back to Snaxburg, and especially the adventurer who invited you to the island in the first place, Elizabert. The search for Elizabert takes essentially the whole game, searching for clues and interviewing Grumpuses, watching tapes that display the relationship of Elizabert and her girlfriend/wife (unclear whether or not they're married), doctor Eggabell.

This search concludes in quite possibly the most unsettling muppet body horror way it could have, with Bugsnax being revealed to be parasites, composing essentially the entire underground of the island, with Elizabert herself being turned into a giant but somehow still sentient and sapient beast made of multiple different legendary Bugsnax, among other species! and the final sequence of the game is spent essentially killing Bugsnax in a brutal saucy massacre across Snaxburg before making your escape.

Now, does this make Bugsnax one of those "Oops, it's a horror game actually!" games? Not in the slightest. This is not as overtly horrifying and gorey as something like Doki Doki Literature Club, although it is possible to lose Grumpuses to the influence of the island in the final sequence if you play your cards wrong, this is more like an Undertale situation in the sense that the game is mostly perfectly fine but has some disturbing undertones and moments! It is a super unexpected moment but I like it, and the ending provides a very satisfying resolution to everyone's problems while still leaving enough questions about the island for a Bugsnax 2

[END SPOILERS]

The game is also very well scored with a mostly electronic sound track that fits the charming and mostly relaxing atmosphere of the game! Seth Parker's smooth synths filling the space perfectly between Grumpus dialogue and Bugsnax yelling out their names Pokémon style, with an adorable credits theme done by Kero Kero Bonito, which fits in perfectly with the rest of the music.

Now, in terms of game stability, having played after patches, I'd say this game is stable enough for the average player, some things being a bit easy to break for people who are looking to do so, with very few glitches being detrimental to the experience. I did have some Bugsnax get stuck or disappear, but it wasn't enough to really effect things much given there are a couple ways to respawn them (sleeping, leaving the area and coming back).

One funny thing did happen to me though, and it was my fault entirely! I saw the broken bridge in Scorched Gorge and was like "Hmmm, I bet I could get across that when they don't want me too" and I did! Then the game autosaved and I had accidentally set several flags in the game skipping Snorpy and Chandlo's quests. I had to find the save file and manually edit it so that I could fix my hubris and unskip the quests! Which was thankfully not very hard to do, and I got to experience those quests without issue.

Now, finally, what would I add to a Bugsnax 2? Well the obvious answer for me would be some form of wasp Bugsnak, I just want more representation of my favorite guys!! But for a bigger suggestion, I'd say that there are tons of different real world bug features and behaviors that could make for interesting gameplay elements and designs! With mimicry, pollination structure building, symbiotic relationships, resource gathering, pheromone communication, multiple stages of life, etc etc. I'd just really like to see what the Bugsnax team can do with things like these! Even down to more species or family specific things!

All in all,

Gameplay: Fairly unique! Can be repetitive at times but stays varied and interesting enough to be engaging for most players.

Difficulty: Catching Bugsnax can be challenging but it's still fairly easy, with very little punishment for failure outside of the very end.

Graphics/Design: Extremely charming with varied Bugsnax and cute NPCs that fit with the biome they're in very well, providing a lovely atmosphere to the game, even if Snakification can make things clash at times.

Story/Lore: Very good, keeping you interested in the world and characters of the game, and at times delving into more serious, personal topics and problems, as well as setting up a world that shows plenty of its history, while leaving some questions to be answered

Soundtrack: Rather smooth, synths filling the space in nicely and not leaving much awkward silence, with a very good guest track

Stability: Rarely detrimental, not giving the player any major issues, while still being breakable if one were to try to do so

Completion Time: 29 hours

Overall: Recommended

#Wasp House Review #bugsnax #Review #long post

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year

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North To The Future [Chapter 5: Sabotage]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: With the completion of Chapter 5, we are officially 1/3 of the way done with this fic series! In my opinion, things start to get really interesting in Chapter 6 so I am sooooo excited to have reached this little milestone. Thank you so so so much for reading and for your enthusiasm, questions, rants, analyses, theories, memes, and general emotional investment in NTTF. I go back to re-read your comments/tags ALL the time and they help keep me motivated to get new chapters out asap. 🥰💜

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, veterinary medicine, discussions of sex, questionable decisions, Kimmie-related chaos, Trent flexing his athletic skills.

Word count: 5.6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @elsolario @meadowofsinfulthoughts @ladylannisterxo @doingfondue @tclegane @quartzs-posts @liathelioness @aemcndtargaryen @thelittleswanao3 @burningcoffeetimetravel @b1gb3anz @hinata7346 @poohxlove @borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @travelingmypassion @graykageyama @skythighs @lauraneedstochill @darlingimafangirl @charenlie @thewew @eddies-bat-tattoos @minttea07

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It’s November 29th, the Monday after Thanksgiving. It’s also your lunch hour.

You yank open the glass front door of Caribou Crossings, the souvenir shop where Heather works. It’s mostly abandoned now that tourist season has ended, and the unloved relics stare at you with cold, oddly sentient eyes: the owls carved out of cedar wood, bears carved out of jade, Russian dolls, miniature totem poles, plushie salmons. You climb over the counter and sit on the floor behind the cash register, your back pressed to the wall and your arms linked around your knees. Heather is breaking open rolls of coins to restock the register, probably unnecessarily; you are the only two people in the store.

She asks, wrestling to get quarters out of a particularly stubborn wrapper: “How’s it going?”

“Not great.”

“Have you fucked British Kurt Cobain yet?”

“We’re not speaking.”

She puts down the roll of quarters and looks at you. “What happened?”

You shrug, trying to act casual, trying to not let your voice crack. You don’t think there’s any threat of tears; you’ve cried so much in the past four days that you seem to be out of them. Your eyes are perpetually pinkish, puffy, exhausted. Despite your herculean efforts to remain hydrated, you have a constant low-grade tension headache that throbs like a bruise, misery trapped beneath the skin like blue-violet blood. “It’s a long story. He came over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Okay.” Heather is perplexed. “And then he, what, drunkenly dropped the turkey on the floor? Tried to hook up with your mom? Offered to show you his collection of murder supplies?”

You smile wearily. “No. I told him that he had to get sober. And he freaked out, he was yelling, he was saying I don’t have any right to try to control him because he’s not mine and never will be. He said I was trying to use him to bail myself out of my spineless, unfulfilling life.”

She scoffs. “Well that’s not true.” Then she observes your face. “Is it…?”

You shrug again, feeling like you’re back in high school, petulant and powerless. “There are a lot of things I want to experience, a lot of places I want to go. But I haven’t done anything yet. Because I can’t tell my parents that I don’t want to stay in Juneau forever and run the vet clinic.”

This must shock Heather, but she doesn’t show it. “I can’t imagine that they would want you to stay if it made you unhappy.”

“No, they wouldn’t try to stop me. But it would break their hearts.”

There is a long, uneasy silence. At last, Heather says: “I think you should come to Ursa Minor tonight.”

“I don’t want to see Aegon.”

“I mean, Dale would probably kick him out if we asked.”

“No!” you shout, too quickly. If he doesn’t have his preferred place to drink his demons away, he might leave Juneau long before the six month deadline.

Heather raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to see him or do you not want to see him?”

You glower at the wall strewn with large, framed photographs of the Northern Lights. “I want him to apologize.”

“I have many talents, but I can’t make that happen for you,” she says. “Look, is it possible that Aegon will be at Ursa Minor? Yeah, totally. But other people are going to be there too. Me, and Joyce, and Kimmie, and Trent and all his dimwitted muscley friends…there are going to be people who care about you. There are going to be people who can help you through this. We can comfort you. We can distract you. We can curb stomp that Greek boy in the parking lot if he doesn’t behave himself. There are a lot of options.”

Lyrics from The Distance, unexpected and unwelcome, spin around in your mind like a vinyl record: She’s hoping in time that her memories will fade. “I’ll think about it.”

“Can I interest you in a complementary Juneau-themed trinket? Glacial mud mask? Moose nuggets? Birch syrup? A slightly sinister-looking stuffed salmon?”

“No. I’m good.”

Heather asks with a straight face: “Do you want me to kill him?”

You laugh, your first real laugh since Thanksgiving. “No, thank you very much, but no.”

“Seriously. I could make it look like the Ice Fisher did it. No one would ever know.”

You gaze up at her from where you sit on the floor. “I love you.”

“I know, bitch.” Heather grins. “Wear something slutty this time.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve spent a lot of time in your bedroom since Thanksgiving; you don’t want your parents to see you upset. They know something, of course, but they don’t interrogate you. They don’t intrude. They probably assume that you’ve broken up with Aegon—not that we were ever dating to begin with, you think sullenly—and, furthermore, that this is a painful yet indisputably wise course of action. It is a productive sort of pain, a necessary pain; it is like the deep maroon ache of a healing bone. It hurts less now than it would if you had stayed with him, married him, had children with him, attempted to build a life with him like a sandcastle razed again and again at high tide. It hurts less than if you had let yourself fall in love with him.

Oh, but didn’t I?

Alaska was purchased from Russia in 1867, just two years after the American Civil War ended, and was soon widely regarded by the still-recovering nation as a hopelessly remote and burdensome error. This impression was reversed only by the discovery of gold and the subsequent mass migration of miners to the territory beginning in the 1890s. After the booming gold industry came fishing and logging and oil and military bases, but gold was Alaska’s first saving grace. This is what you are thinking as you pencil on your black eyeliner, dust your eyelids with sheer gold glitter, paint your lips a vivid, glossy crimson. You stare at your reflection in the bedroom mirror, surrounded by photographs of your family and your friends, high school and college and vet school. There’s one image that doesn’t quite belong. It’s a cutout from one of those infinite travel magazines, a Ford Mustang convertible soaring down the Pacific Coast Highway in Southern California. The man behind the wheel—tan, beaming, carefree—is wearing sunglasses and a neon green tank top. The convertible is bright red; it is nearly the same shade as your lips.

You slip into a dress you haven’t worn in years: black, short, off-the-shoulder sleeves. Ever-practical, you opt for black boots instead of heels. When you arrive at Ursa Minor, Heather is wearing a sequined hot pink tube top and white leather pants. Joyce is wearing—to Heather’s abject horror—overalls, a rainbow striped T-shirt, and a massive mustard yellow scarf that nearly swallows her into oblivion. By a pure and unfortunate coincidence, you and Aegon match. He is sitting at the bar in all black: black turtleneck sweater, black jeans, black combat boots, black sleepless shadows under both of his eyes, a black mood that sweats out of his pores like a fever. Randomly, you remember the gold chain necklace he was wearing on Thanksgiving. It didn’t look fake, and it didn’t look cheap. To your knowledge, it is the only thing of significant value that he owns. It is a peculiar luxury for him to possess.

So what? Maybe he stole it. Maybe he traded drugs for it. Maybe he got it off a corpse that he strangled and then sank into cold, silent darkness beneath an ice-covered lake.

But no, you don’t believe that. You never did, and you still don’t.

Heather slurps down her Sex On The Beach. “Is this your revenge dress? Are you invoking the spirit of Princess Diana in this fine establishment tonight?”

You gaze miserably at Aegon. He is peering down into the caramel-colored bubbles of his rum and Coke. The stereo is playing Shania Twain’s Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under? “He told me he’s an awful person. That’s the worst part. Like he told me over and over again exactly what to expect and I didn’t believe him, because I was just…just…I don’t know.” Infatuated. In love. Blind. Naïve. Hopeful. “Stupid, I guess.”

“I hate men.” Heather glances to the bar. “Except Dale, he’s okay.”

“The fictional ones aren’t all bad,” Joyce says, flipping a page in her newest fantasy novel. This one has a pirate on the front, his billowing white shirt mostly unbuttoned and his long hair flowing in the wind like a hero’s cape.

“I’ve had a horrendous fucking day,” you moan. “There’s the Aegon thing, there’s the I’m never going to get out of Alaska thing, there’s the I’m going to die alone thing, and then on top of all that, I had to euthanize Ms. Ruland’s cat right before we closed.”

“Sylvester Stallone?!” Heather cries. “Sylvester died? That black and white homicidal little maniac? With the super long whiskers? Jesus, that’s tragic. I’m sorry.”

“In all fairness, he was like a gazillion years old. He probably remembered when dinosaurs roamed America. But it was still awful. Ms. Ruland was a mess. I felt totally unprepared, totally useless. I’d practiced in vet school, of course, but I’d never euthanized an animal I knew before. It was horrible trying to comfort Ms. Ruland. It was horrible seeing someone walk into the clinic with someone they loved and then walk out alone.”

Heather and Joyce nod with sad, sympathetic eyes, wanting to help but not knowing what else to say. You gulp down your pineapple-flavored Bacardi Breezer. Aegon must have complained about the Shania Twain music; Dale switches out the CD and the opening notes of Sabotage by the Beastie Boys rockets out of the stereo.

Kimmie throws open the front door and blusters into Ursa Minor, shaking the snowflakes out of her hair and wearing a sleek, skin-tight, metallic silver dress and matching platform heels. She looks like a disco ball; she looks like a mirror. She canters to the bar like a racehorse and orders herself a Miller Lite. She says something to Aegon. He mumbles back, still peering into his rum and Coke. She tries again. He shrugs and downs the rest of his drink. He glances at you—almost glaring, almost sad—and then orders another rum and Coke.

“Oh no,” Heather mutters. “Oh no, oh no, Kimmie, no.”

The front door opens again, and Trent and his friends spill inside in a loud, riotous swarm. They order beers at the bar—Trent fist-bumping Aegon, several of the other guys descending upon Kimmie to make bungling attempts at seduction—and then they migrate over to the pool table like a honking, brainless flock of geese. Trent breaks off to make a pit stop at your booth.

“Hi,” he says, smiling as he sips his Heineken.

“Hi,” you reply. Heather and Joyce’s eyes dart between you and Trent.

He points to the spot beside you, which is presently vacant. “Do you mind if I hang out for a while?”

“I think you’ll regret it. I am currently extremely depressed and boring.”

To your surprise, Trent doesn’t act like a dumbass. His voice goes gentle. His face collapses into soft, attentive pity. “What’s there to be depressed about?”

Well, you see, I accidentally fell in love with your maybe-murderer alcoholic homeless friend and in a completely unforeseeable turn of events he ruined my life. “I had to euthanize a cat today.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Trent says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my job. I should get over it.”

“No, seriously, I’m sorry.” Trent tosses his hair off his forehead in his patented horse-like maneuver, and then his gaze comes back to you. “Your job is to help animals, so I get that not being able to fix one would be really tough. But I know you’re still great at your job. I know you did everything you could.”

You stare up at Trent. Heather stares up at Trent. Joyce, having completely forgotten about her fantasy novel (a rare occurrence), stares up at Trent. Trent swallows a mouthful of Heineken; stray beads of it drip down his full lips and stubbled chin.

I couldn’t fix the cat. I couldn’t fix Aegon. I can’t fix myself.

“You can hang out if you want to,” you tell Trent, scooting over to give him space. He grins and slides into the booth, tall and broad-shouldered and tossing his hair around again, looking like goddamn Seabiscuit. You steal a glimpse of the bar. Aegon’s jaw has fallen open; he’s gaping at you with scandalized disbelief, with something like horror. You move a little closer to Trent. And Aegon, at last, turns his attention to the dramatic, irritating, captivating Kimberly Barbieri.

“So, Trent,” Heather begins slowly, apprehensively, then picks up steam. Beside her, Joyce picks up her book. “How is the salmon genocide business going?”

As you half-listen to Trent talk about fishing, which somehow—as all topics seem to do with him—leads back to football and his high school glory days, you drink your Bacardi Breezer and watch Aegon with sharp, narrowed eyes. He has relocated to the barstool next to Kimmie. He appears to be asking her questions—tentative, stilted questions—and she replies with animated laughter and calculated little touches: her fingertips grazing his wrist, her palm briefly pressed to his shoulder. You hate the way Aegon talks with his hands, those gestures which had been becoming so familiar to you. They put an ache in your chest like a nest of barbed wire.

“Bro!” one of Trent’s friends is calling from the pool table. Others are waving encouragingly. “Bro, come play! Come play! Broooooo!”

“Looks like you’re being summoned,” Heather says.

“Oh, wow, I guess so.” Trent turns to you, nervous. “Do you…uh…would you…maybe…like to join me?”

“What, playing pool?”

“Yeah.”

You try to consider this in earnest; your mind is so tangled up in Kimmie and Aegon and everything that’s transpired over the past week that the words barely sound like English. Playing. Pool. With Trent. “I don’t think I know how.”

“I’ll teach you,” he offers, quite willingly.

“Okay, maybe. Give me a few minutes, I need another drink first.”

“Want me to grab a Bacardi Breezer for you?”

“Thanks, but I’ll do it. I haven’t decided which flavor I want next yet.”

“Cool,” Trent says. He slips out of the booth and gives you one final, mock-stern, smiling warning. “Remember, I’m going to teach you how to play. Meet me at the pool table. Don’t forget. Don’t disappear.”

“I’ll be there,” you promise. He departs. You say to Heather: “I probably won’t be there.”

“Why not?” Heather asks. “You’re hot. You’ll be even hotter when you’re bent over a pool table lining up your shots. The Greek boy is already sad, but I want to see him devastated.”

“I don’t think I have that power.”

Heather smirks and wiggles her slender eyebrows. “I disagree.”

Across Ursa Minor, Kimmie leaps off her barstool and leaves Aegon to guzzle his rum and Coke in peace. She approaches your booth sheepishly, like a dog that knows he’s chewed a considerable hole in his owner’s favorite La-Z-Boy recliner. “So,” Kimmie says to you, nervously kneading her glass bottle of Miller Lite. She’s so fucking cool, you think mournfully. Cool girls drink beer, cool girls are lighthearted and fun, cool girls don’t take guys too seriously, cool girls never ask about the future. “You and Aegon.”

You drink the last of your Bacardi Breezer moodily. “What about us?”

“You aren’t…like…together, are you?”

“No. No way. I’d rather date O.J. Simpson.”

“Well…” Heather begins, and you kick her under the table. Bitch! she mouths, rubbing her shin.

“Okay,” Kimmie sighs in relief, a smile breaking across her face. The Christmas lights reflect off her silver dress; she glows, she radiates. “Good. I was hoping he wasn’t off-limits, but I wanted to check with you first. You know, in accordance with Girl Code.”

“How courteous,” you note.

Kimmie marvels dreamily: “He looked so freaking good strumming that guitar.”

“Um, Kimmie…” Heather begins again. You glare at her ferociously. Heather pivots. “He’s probably the Ice Fisher, so you should keep your distance.”

Kimmie laughs. “Aegon? The Ice Fisher?! I don’t think so. You have to be sober to meticulously kidnap and murder people. Besides, from what I’ve heard he’s slept his way through like half the souvenir shop cashiers, and none of them ended up dead.”

You stare down at the table despondently. Heather, floundering, puts her fist through the figurative In Case Of Emergency Break Glass box. “He has syphilis.”

Kimmie gasps. “Really?!”

Heather deflates. “No. Well, actually, I don’t know. Maybe. It’s certainly possible. We should assume the worst.”

Kimmie, for once fully in on the joke, winks. “I’ll let you know once I’ve investigated.” She strolls back to the bar in her short mirrorball dress, shimmering and lithe like a snake’s skin.

“To be clear,” Heather tells you. “I was not in the half of the souvenir shop cashiers that Aegon boned.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?! Why didn’t you tell her that…that…?!”

“That what?” you snap. “She asked if we’re together. We’re not. We never were. He made that crystal clear. And if he’s not going to get sober, I’m not going to get involved with someone like that.” Someone like Jesse. Someone like the man my mom still carries scars and bruises from, not in the flesh but in the soul.

“But…but…” Heather frowns at you with pained, condoling eyes. “You…you love him. Don’t you? You look like you love him. You look…and I mean this in the most compassionate way possible…you look fucking terrible. You look like someone died, and I’m not talking about Sylvester Stallone the geriatric cat. Joyce?”

Joyce gives you an evaluative glance. “Yeah, you look terrible.”

At the bar, Kimmie is leaning all over Aegon and giggling about a story he’s telling. His hands move in dramatic, expressive gestures. He is, for the first time tonight, smiling. There’s a jolt like knuckles jabbed beneath your ribs. There’s a profound, inky despair. Kimmie grabs Aegon’s hand—he has callouses on his fingertips, you think randomly—and leads him over to the pool table. As soon as they have vacated the area, Heather drags you to the bar.

“Dale?” she says. “My good bitch needs a Bacardi Breezer. Maybe two Bacardi Breezers. Maybe three. I think I’ll be driving her home tonight.” She turns to you. “What flavors do you want?”

“Apple,” you reply morosely.

“Okay, one apple, what about the rest?”

“All apple.”

“Goddamn, you really are fucked up about this. Dale, three apple Bacardi Breezers, please.”

He lines them up on the counter. Heather sits with you as you drink them one after the other, gradually feeling warm again, feeling a little lighter. When you peek back at the booth, Rob has appeared there and is discussing—politely this time—the plot of Joyce’s fantasy novel with her. She looks almost vaguely interested in his existence.

“Hey Dale,” Heather prompts. “What’s the secret to everlasting love?”

Dale chuckles huskily and runs a hand over his thick, wiry beard. “You’re asking the wrong person. My wife ran off with a cruise ship singer, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Heather says apologetically. That was around six months ago, at the start of tourist season; the guy was an Elvis impersonator. “My bad.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m better off, I think. Now I don’t have to pretend to like her soap operas anymore. Or her tuna casserole.” He guffaws and ambles away to serve a pair of middle-aged locals seated at the other end of the bar.

When you’ve finished your last Bacardi Breezer, Heather slaps your shoulder encouragingly. “Alright, you ready?”

“Yup,” you say, swaying a little as you hop off the barstool. You stumble and bump into Heather, laughing. She steadies you with a massive grin. She’s delighted; she’s relieved.

“Good. Now get your ass over to the pool table and do your best impression of Demi Moore in Striptease.”

You have no intention of doing that. But you do—with Heather’s stabilizing grip on your waist—make your way to the pool table. There is a crowd pulsing around it: Trent, Trent’s assorted jock friends, Aegon, Kimmie. Aegon is standing in the background and nursing his—fourth? fifth? tenth?—rum and Coke. His face is vague and his eyes groggy. Still, he is beautiful. He’s so beautiful you almost blurt it out before stopping yourself. Kimmie is lining up a shot to break the balls out of their triangular configuration. Her silver hoop earrings glint under the Christmas lights. She is covered in male gazes like the sheen of ice on a lake. The white cue ball collides with the pyramid-shaped conglomeration; the balls go flying in every direction. The solid green ball—number 6—disappears into a pocket.

“Booyah!” Kimmie cheers. There are claps and whistles. Aegon just stares blankly, gnawing on his lower lip, that chronically disobedient lock of hair resting on his cheek.

“You’re majorly talented,” Trent’s friend Gary swoons. Kimmie bats her eyelashes at him and then checks to see if Aegon noticed. He didn’t. Kimmie, flustered but trying to hide it, takes another turn but doesn’t manage to sink a single ball.

“Hey!” Trent welcomes you warmly. He slings an arm across your shoulders, which ordinarily you would shy away from. Now, you lean into him, your body melding with his, your muscles loose and sinuous. Aegon does notice this. His eyes are a dark, dangerous blue: riptides, maelstroms, trenches miles deep. Good, you think. Maybe I can get him jealous enough to reconsider. Maybe I can make him want to change. “Want to shoot for me? I’ll show you how.”

You smile up at Trent. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

He passes you a cue stick with large, rugged hands. “So you’ll need one of these…and then you have to chalk it…” He presses a tiny blue cube into your palm. You rub chalk onto the tip of the cue stick, feeling ridiculous.

“And what’s the purpose of this part? Superstition? To give me false confidence?”

Trent chuckles. “To help the stick get better contact with the cue ball.”

“So you’re an expert, huh?”

“I am athletically gifted.”

“Does pool count as a sport? I’m skeptical.”

“Pay attention,” he teases, flipping his hair out of his face. Seabiscuit strikes again. “Now Kimmie sunk a solid ball, so the solids are all hers. Ours are the striped ones. If we can sink all the striped ones before Kimmie sinks all the solid ones, we win. And you don’t want to sink the black 8 ball until all our balls are already gone. That’s the very last step.”

“Sink striped balls. Don’t sink solid balls or the 8 ball. Okay. Got it.” You take aim, your sights set on the striped blue ball, number 10. This is somewhat difficult; thanks to your plentiful Bacardi Breezers, the pool table feels like it’s listing like a ship. The tapered shaft of the stick is balanced awkwardly on the back of your hand. “Am I doing this right…?”

“Here,” Trent says, and then he gets to work repositioning you. He touches you without asking, which you don’t object to under the circumstances; Aegon’s face is flushing a gory, wrathful red. Trent spreads your fingers farther apart, adjusts the angle of your elbow, pushes you between the shoulder blades to lean a bit lower over the pool table. The hem of your black dress creeps up your bare thighs, fluttering like a whisper. Aegon aggressively chugs the rest of his rum and Coke, the ice cubes clanging in the glass.

You take your shot, and the white cue ball whizzes across the pool table. It ploughs into the number 10 ball and sends it down into the abyss-like pocket closest to where Aegon stands.

“Yes!” Trent roars. He swoops in, picks you up with startling ease, whirls you around once before setting your unsteady feet back down on the floor and accepting thunderous back-slapping from his hoard of friends.

“Wow,” Heather murmurs, mostly to herself.

“Ugh, you whore!” Kimmie jeers, but she’s clapping and giggling too. She’s still the main character tonight, and she always will be, and she knows this like she knows the lines in her own palms. She’s just that kind of girl.

“Another round, another round!” Trent’s friends are chanting, and then they stampede together off to the bar to procure more beer. Kimmie, tottering in her silvery platform heels, moves to join them.

Abruptly, Aegon catches Kimmie’s forearm and pulls her to him. He whispers in her ear; her eyes go wide, her breath hitches, her glossy lips split into an exhilarated smile. And then they dash out of Ursa Minor together, stopping just long enough to grab their parkas off the coatrack by the door. They’re gone. They’re both gone.

You sputter to Heather: “What…? How…? No, they can’t! They can’t—!”

“What do you want me to do?!” she hisses back. “Tackle them before they can make it off the premises? Tie Kimmie to a chair? Force her to take a vow of celibacy? You didn’t tell her that he was off-limits when you had the chance. This is the consequence that we all have to live with.”

“Oh my god.” The room is spiraling around you. You feel nauseous; you feel ice cold. He wasn’t supposed to leave with her. He wasn’t supposed to…

“Uh, are you okay?” Heather asks.

“No,” you choke out. Aegon and Kimmie! Aegon and Kimmie!!! “I have to get out of here.”

“Well you can’t drive home like this—”

“I know. I’ll be back.” You push by her, snatch your parka off the coatrack, dive out into the starless, frigid night.

There’s no one in the parking lot, no one on the street. You make a hard left and walk with no particular plan down towards the harbor, your shaking hands jammed into your parka pockets, tears streaming down your face. The wind whips at you, howling and old, older than the creaking wooden planks of the dock beneath your boots, older than all of humanity. You pass bobbing sailboats and fishing vessels until you come to the end of the pier, sit there cross-legged and sobbing, gaze out through blurred vision over the Gastineau Channel. It separates mainland Juneau from Douglas Island, which began—like so much of Alaska did—as a gold mining settlement. You remember the sparkling gold eyeshadow that you applied in your bedroom just a few hours ago. You don’t feel very valuable at the moment. You feel unworthy. You feel alone.

It is silent except for the waves and the wind. It is very dark; the sky is clouded, and the illuminations of Ursa Minor and the streetlights are faraway. When you hear the footsteps behind you on the pier, your stomach drops; they’re too heavy to be Heather’s or Joyce’s. But when you twist around, it is Trent that you see in the dim, shadowy light.

“Hi,” he says, raising a hand. “Heather told me that you ran away.”

“Hi. I guess I did.”

He hesitates, flips his hair, drops down beside you at the edge of the pier. “You okay?”

You sigh heavily and swipe the tears from your cheeks. “Yeah. I’m just having a really bad day.” Like an absurdly, phenomenally, exponentially bad day.

“I know what that’s like.”

I doubt it, Trent. I really do.

You sit there together in the quiet, watching the sparce light flick off the crests of waves, staring at the bright dots of houses and shops across the channel on Douglas Island. Trent puts his arm around you. You let him, and—partially for the warmth, partially for the healing sensation of being desired, being cared for—lean your head against his chest.

After a very long time, you ask dully: “What do you like about working on a salmon boat?” It’s almost enough to make you wince. It’s the kind of pedestrian, unimaginative question that Aegon would make fun of. But Trent seems to consider it carefully.

“I like being outside,” he says. “I like the fresh air, I like the scenery. And I like how working with my hands helps me get all my frustrations out. I’m a better person when I stay busy. Commercial fishing can be intense sometimes, don’t get me wrong, that’s why I’m trying to get into the Forest Service. But I like it enough.”

“What do you like about me?”

You can hear the awe in his voice. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. There was a time when I didn’t care so much about things like that. But now that I’m older and I’ve started to think about settling down…I feel like you’re the right kind of girl to do that with.”

You look up at him. He beams down at you like a full moon. And then he kisses you. He’s warm and strong and handsome in that obvious sort of way, but he’s something else, too: a little forceful, a little rough. Rough isn’t always a bad thing. But it’s like you can glimpse the silhouette of someone else beneath the surface, stars veiled by clouds, the shadows of fish under ice. He doesn’t feel anything like Aegon. He doesn’t patch the wound that Aegon left in you at all.

I wonder where Aegon is right now. I wonder what he’s doing to Kimmie.

When Trent breaks the kiss, you tell him that you have to go. He walks you back to Ursa Minor, his mighty palm on the small of your back.

~~~~~~~~~~

Heather drives you home, shellshocked. She asks, in reference to your confession about the kiss on the pier: “So…uh…do you want to talk about it, or…?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“Are you and Trent…like…a thing…?!”

“I don’t know. He seems to think we are.”

“Oh god, oh god, oh my god.” She rubs her forehead with one hand, her astonished eyes on the indigo-black horizon.

When you get home, your dad is already asleep. Your mom is straightening up the kitchen, wiping off countertops and scrubbing dishes in the bubble-filled sink. When you ask if she needs any help, she bursts out laughing.

“You’re the one who looks like she needs help,” she says. “What happened at the bar?”

You grimace down at the floor. “A lot of things. A lot of things.”

“Nothing you feel the desire to share?”

“No. Not quite yet. Can you drive me back to pick up my Jeep tomorrow?”

“Sure. Why don’t you take a nice bubble bath and then go to bed?” she suggests. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Do you need a snack? I could make pancakes. Or a grilled cheese.”

“That’s really kind of you, but no thanks, Mom.” I’ve completely lost my appetite.

You sulk in a bubble bath for a while, drag yourself out, brush your teeth and hair, try to rub the night off every part of you like smoothing rough edges off a gemstone. When you wander out into the hallway, your eyes catch on the door to the attic, a rectangular outline in the white ceiling. You are mostly sober by now, and yet still the idea that strikes you seems ludicrous at first. It’s a muddled, disjointed thought. It might be a dangerous one.

If I can learn more about Jesse, maybe I can understand Aegon too.

The box of journals is up there, you know, dusty and untouched and waiting. The rope hangs invitingly. You pull the door open and unfold the ladder. You climb up into the attic, turn on the single naked lightbulb, and push aside bins of holiday decorations and family heirlooms until you find a small, unlabeled cardboard box that’s sealed shut with duct table. You peel back the tape and peek inside the flaps. The box is filled with thin leather journals in a variety of colors: olive green, navy blue, rust red, earthen brown. You gather the cardboard box into your arms and carry it down to your bedroom, slipping it discretely beneath your bed to live beside childhood stuffed animals and mounds of old yearbooks. You close up the attic and then venture downstairs to get yourself some water to stave off a blossoming hangover.

Your mom is at the kitchen sink, washing a plate with a green Scotch-Brite sponge. “Did I hear you up in the attic, ladybug? Do you need help finding something?”

“No, I got it.”

“Okay.” But she studies you, puzzled. She’s going to worry unless you explain.

“I don’t want to make you talk about it,” you say. “And I don’t want to upset you. I’ll never mention it again. But just so you know, I want to read the journals. For my own reasons. That’s why I was up in the attic. I was bringing the box down to my bedroom.”

“Oh.” She freezes, stares out the window over the sink, goes vacant. “That makes sense. That’s fine.”

“Mom, are you alright?”

“Of course, ladybug.” There is nothing outside but night. You can see her reflection in the glass like a mirror. Long, slow seconds tick by. “It seemed like he was getting better,” your mom says, her voice faint and weightless, an untethered balloon, a feather on waves. “That’s the strange part. At the very end, it seemed like he was getting better.”

Then she lets the plate sink beneath the pearlescent bubbles, wipes her hands dry on a dishtowel, and goes to bed without another word.

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