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penned-cbarbosa · 2 years

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Marry Me | Thomeste

Featuring: Thomeste + Sebastián Castillo De Leon & sprinkles of Aldrich Palermo; mentions of Antony Malinowski Notes: THOMAS & CELESTE GET MARRIED, Y’ALL! And this para proves it with oodles of cuteness. That’s really all you need to know. Happy reading!

--THOMAS--

Thomas was a ball of nerves. His feet were toasty warm knowing he was marrying Celeste, but he was nervous that something might go wrong. He was also nervous that he might fuck up his vows somehow. His hands shook a bit as he finished tightening the tie around his neck and he grabbed his suit jacket. It was warm out, but the material was thin and breathable enough that he wouldn’t sweat too much in it. Thomas’ sisters were there with him as he finished getting ready, and he couldn’t have been more grateful for their support. He knew they wouldn’t miss his wedding for the world, but having his family there meant everything to him. When he was done getting ready, Thomas stayed in the suite until the photographer brought him outside for the first look. Thomas hoped seeing Celeste and spending a little time with her before the ceremony would calm his nerves. “Just wait here until she takes my hand or taps me on the shoulder? All right,” he nodded and took a few deep breaths.

--CELESTE--

While standing outside of the limo that had brought them to Golden Gate Park, Celeste's aunt was circling her, making sure that nothing was out of place for her. Meanwhile, her cousin was close by with a sleeve of Saltines and a bottle of water. "You look angelic, Celeste," her mother told her, fingers fanned across her lips. "Are you ready to go see Thomas?"

Drawing a deep breath in and out, she nodded, "Mhm. I just really hope that we can get some great photos today." She wanted them to have great memories to look back on and hoped she wouldn't look nauseous in them. And once her aunt Adriana finished and swept her train up in the back, Celeste started walking with the ladies closest to her in her life toward the gardens but just outside of the ceremony site. When she reached the spot where Thomas had his back to her, immediately, she smiled. She gripped her bouquet in one hand and made her way to him as her aunt let the train fall to the ground and the trio of women hung back behind the photographer. With a soft grin, she reached out for Thomas's hand and gripped it, "Hey you," she murmured through a grin.

--THOMAS--

Thomas heard a little chattering behind him, and he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He didn’t want them to be gross when Celeste approached. “Hi,” he grinned and squeezed her hand before turning around. Immediately, his face lit up and his eyes watered as he looked at his bride. “Holy shit, you look incredible!” He leaned in to kiss Celeste and then he pulled back enough to really see her whole gown. “I absolutely love the dress! You’re stunning! I’m the luckiest man on earth,” he smiled widely and kissed her again. He really has no idea what to expect with her dress. Thomas knew Celeste could wear anything and he would think she was the most beautiful woman on the planet, but the gown she picked was perfect on her.

--CELESTE--

Celeste's heart had been thumping fast and hard inside her chest, but her smile brightened when Thomas turned around and reacted to seeing her from head-to-toe in her wedding attire. His compliments made her grin impossibly wider than before and she'd let out a small, modest laugh, expelling some of her nervousness in the process. "Thank you, babe," and before she could tell him how handsome she found him in his suit, she was kissing him back for a second time, winding her bouquet-ladened hand around his neck. While keeping her face close to his, she parted her lips from his pair long enough to utter, "You look amazing. I'm always gonna love seeing you all suited up or in a tux." She pecked his lips and then spoke on through another smile, "I'm so glad I get to marry you today." There was a warmth, a glow she felt surrounding them as she stood in front of Thomas. They would get to the ceremony soon enough but for now, the photographer clicked away at the two of them. Her family members who had escorted her over, quietly slipped away after some quick, hushed and varied forms of, "Congrats!" to the couple.

--THOMAS--

He smiled widely when she complimented his suit. Thomas actually liked getting dressed up. After getting back from the island and getting back into the gym, he was feeling like himself again. And considering the number of suits he already had, getting another for the wedding was nice. "Thank you. You picked out a nice colour for the suits," he said. "God... me too. I'm so happy right now." Thomas was also glad they were going to share the news about the twins after the ceremony. It was so hard to keep that a secret. Not even his family knew, though they did know Celeste was pregnant. As the photographer took more candid pictures of them, he really didn't even notice. Before Celeste's family members left, he thanked them. "We should get at least a few posed pictures, too." They spent a good amount of time taking photos, and Thomas suggested they take a few, making it obvious that she was pregnant. He wanted to have those, even if they were only for the two of them.

--CELESTE--

It was so easy to feed off of each other's joy. Celeste knew her cheeks would be hurting before even walking down the aisle. "You and me both, babe," she replied, softly but giddily giggling through her words. She gazed up at him with pure adoration and continued holding his hand, her smile easily returning to her face as she thought about them being moments away from being married. When the photographer agreed with Thomas about the photos, Celeste nodded, "Okay. Just as long as I don't have to do any real spinning. I feel surprisingly okay right now and don't wanna push my luck." She chuckled a bit and followed the photographer's given directions, picking up her train whenever the two of them moved more than a few steps from where they were. The picture of the two of them forming a heart with their hands against Celeste's barely-there bump had been one of her favorites to take. They had taken a couple more photos relating to the pregnancy and a few more posed photos before Aldrich appeared in his purple suit and whispered in the photographer's ear, prompting them to take their leave of the space ahead of the bride and groom. He then turned to the couple with a bright smile and said, "It’s time. Your guests are seated, your wedding party is lined up, and Sebastián is ready at the chuppah for you both."

--THOMAS--

Thomas nodded. "I promise you don't have to spin. I don't want to put my luck either." He knew it was a good day so far as far as the nausea went. And he didn't want to mess that up. As they took more photos, he held his almost-wife and rubbed her stomach lovingly. Their babies were growing quickly, and he was so excited to be a dad. Thomas was also excited to see Celeste as a mom. She already had every good maternal instinct, and she was so full of love. He greeted Aldrich when he came over to tell them it was time. "I'll see you down there," Thomas told Celeste and gave her a kiss before he went to line up. They were less than an hour away from being declared husband and wife.

--CELESTE--

Thomas being so loving and tender were just two of the many reasons why Celeste was so in love with him and looking forward to a life with him. She kept close to for every photo and smiled either softly or largely almost non-stop throughout. In some of the photos, at the photographer's guidance for sillier pictures, she laughed freely and earnestly. When Aldrich showed up to tell them it was time, Celeste felt like her heart had done a little back-lit inside her chest before thumping just a little bit harder to internally reflect her excitement. She returned Thomas's kiss and then quietly replied, "See you soon!" as he left. Celeste watched him go for a moment, and then looked to Aldrich with a grin. She thanked him for everything he'd done to make today happen for her and Thomas, and then gave him a fierce hug. When the two friends parted, she noticed Aldrich offering his arm and she accepted, walking with him to the back of the wedding party lineup. She heard the hushed reactions from those who hadn't seen her until then and Celeste reacted with a beaming smile and a wave. Her dad was waiting at the end in his green suit and all the joy plastered on his face. When he saw his daughter, however, his expression changed. Celeste didn't have the words to describe the look but she knew he was deeply happy for her and Thomas. She hugged him for an undetermined amount if time, and then stood arm-in-arm beside him as the music changed and the wedding party started walking further into the gardens at Aldrich's skillful prompting. Thomas's niece and nephews were the last ones to walk out, ahead of Celeste and Arthur. The music faded before transitioning to Colby Caillat's "Bubbly". With an effortless deep breath and a squeeze of her dad's arm, Celeste began the walk along the rose petal path and down the aisle towards Thomas and her future with him.

--SEBASTIÁN--

Sebastián asked his husband to make sure his kippah was in place. When he spotted Aldrich from a distance and the music began, he took his position, looking over to Thomas with a comforting smile. "You're doing great.", he whispered and then kept both his hands in front of him, holding on to the scriptures he'd be reading and the words he had chosen to share about the couple. He looked ahead, smiling nice and wide in support of Celeste. This would be a big day and huge reveal all in one. He could feel the love in the room and the beauty that surrounded them all was appropriate for such a lovely pair. Once it was Celeste's turn to walk in, he watched as everyone stood and he made it a point to watch both Thomas and Celeste. After the bride made it to Thomas, he asked Arthur to give her away and smiled at the sight. Seeing her in her dress made a few tears fall and he wiped them quickly. Taking a deep breath in, he asked the guests to sit and addressed them as well as the couple. "Hello! For those of you who don't know me, I am Sebastián and I have the privilege of knowing both the bride and groom really well. They are my dearest friends and like all of you here, I love them very much. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two hearts. Thomas and Celeste, life is given to each of us as individuals, and yet we must learn to live together. Love is given to us by our family and friends - we learn to love by being loved. Learning to love and living together is one of the greatest challenges of life; and it is the shared goal of a married life." He grinned, shifting his gaze from Thomas to Celeste. "Are you ready?"

--THOMAS--

Thomas made sure his kippah was on and clipped to his hair, and he walked down the aisle where Sebastián was already waiting. He just saw Celeste and didn't know why he was so nervous, so his friend telling him he was doing great was actually reassuring. Thomas stood at the end, looking out at all the friends and family members who were there to support them, and his heart swelled. There was so much love and joy radiating from them. When Celeste started walking toward him with her dad, his eyes welled up with tears. Yes, he had just seen her. The dress was no longer a surprise. But she was taking her last steps as a single woman. In a matter of minutes, she would be his wife. Nothing in the world could make him happier. "Thank you," Thomas muttered to Arthur, shaking his hand and taking Celeste's. He smiled widely at Sebastián's words, so grateful they chose him to be the officiant. "I've never been more ready."

--CELESTE--

Seeing the kids handle their flower/ring bearer duties made Celeste grin and softly giggle. But when she lifted her gaze up the aisle to Thomas and locked eyes with him, her breath hitched. She saw the glazed look in his eyes from the tears and the existing joy in her just bloomed that much larger. True, they had just been with each other mere moments ago but now, their ceremony had begun and they were that much closer to being each other's husband and wife. Once she and her father reached Thomas and Sebastián, Celeste turned her head to peck her father on the cheek and hug him. After their embrace ended, Arthur took hold of one of Celeste's hands and placed it in one of Thomas's. He cast Thomas a kind smile, whispering, "I know you two will take care of each other, but know you're not taking this next step alone." He squeezed both of their hands and then stepped away to stand beside his wife in the front row. Meanwhile, Celeste fixed her eyes on Thomas, gripping her bouquet while listening to Sebastián. "Definitely ready."

--SEBASTIÁN--

When both the bride and groom announced they were ready, Sebastián nodded and cleared his throat. "Good." He chuckled and allowed the audience to also get some laughs in. "Thomas, Celeste. As I was saying earlier, I've had the privilege of getting to know you both and calling you my friends. More than that, you're both family. With that said, it's easy to see that many people feel the same way about you. Just look at this amazing turnout. Even Madison Square Garden would be jealous. I want you both to close your eyes and take a deep breath and just embrace everything around you. That? What you're feeling? Is the undeniable love everyone has for the two of you. Okay, reopen your eyes. Even nature behaved for this momentous occasion. Thomas, I remember when I first met you, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I had just met one of the most genuinely kind men I have ever met in my life. I was taken aback by how modest and friendly you were and when Celeste told me she had found the one on day one of my arrival on the island might I add, I prayed internally that it would be you. So when she revealed who the one was, I was ecstatic. I felt it then, It felt it in the many months we all had together and I feel it today. Love like yours is hard to come by. Celeste, what can I say about you, mi amor? You're the reason the sun is shining today. You are the actual embodiment of love. I had heard in passing many times how you were the mother hen or the sister-mom of the island and I knew that to be true. You're giving personality and love of life matched with Thomas' delightful and soft heart is the perfect combination. You are meant to be. We all truly believe that. And now you've made a grown man cry." He wiped his tears and chuckled. "Congratulations, you two. You're an inspiration. Now, please face each other so you can share your vows."

--THOMAS--

Thomas grinned and chuckled and nodded along with what Sebastián was saying about him and Celeste. He was so genuinely glad he was friends with the other man and that he made a good impression with him and Antony, especially because they both knew Celeste before coming to the island. Now, the four of them were so close. They were all each other's bonus family. It felt wonderful. "Jeez... way to make me cry," Thomas chuckled and wiped his eyes. He grabbed his little notebook out of his suit jacket. "Thank you for letting me go first. Celeste is a writer, and there is no way my vows will be better than hers." He heard a few chuckles from the audience. "Celeste, I just want to start off by saying you're a total smokeshow. I'm so lucky to be marrying someone as hot as you are," he grinned. "I didn't have many expectations for Ship-Wrecked when I joined the cast. I thought it would just be a way to pass a few months, but I was wrong. It was one of the best decisions I ever made. Meeting you changed the whole course of my life, and I will always be grateful to that silly reality show. From our first date, I knew you could be someone I spent the rest of my life with. After our first kiss, I knew I wanted to leave the island with you. You're so smart, kind, and funny. You accepted me for who I was, baggage and all," he grinned and turned the page. "After you met my family, I was even more sure about us having a future together. Not many people can boast that they got the approval of a Jewish Mother, but my mum adores you. My whole family does. You fit in with us perfectly." Thomas looked at Celeste for a few moments before continuing.

"I am so lucky to have another chance at love. And I'm so lucky you deemed me worthy of being your husband. I swear I will love and cherish you every day. I will make sure you always have snacks and drinks when you're writing. I promise to be the best dad possible." He heard some awws from his family and murmurs of confusion from others. "I am yours forever."

--CELESTE--

Celeste was able to concentrate on Sebastián’s greeting and start to the wedding. He was very kind and flattering in how he described her and Thomas. And he was very right, particularly when it came to Thomas. With their vows taking place early in the ceremony, Celeste’s heart started to beat a little quicker, a little bit anxious for this part. But when Thomas was to go first, she felt a small bit of relief. In truth, the vows had been the most stressful part of preparing for the wedding, as far as she was concerned. She kept her eyes trained on Thomas and tried not to get caught in the contagious tears that captured both men. He’d made her chuckle with his first sentence and she was blushing in no time. It was difficult to keep the tears at bay, and became impossible once he spoke of their first date and how his feelings blossomed from there. Damn hormones she thought to herself. Her smile was plastered on her face as a lone tear escaped and trickled thinly down her cheek. She wanted so badly to kiss him again, for everything he shared and everything he vowed. Instead, she carefully wiped away the tear and drew in a deep breath. The reactions of their family and friends about him promising to be the best dad possible made her smile momentarily turn mischievous and knowing, but now it was her turn.

“Thank you,” she mouthed, barely managing a whisper with it. Around her bouquet, Celeste held two folded pieces of paper that were now slightly wrinkled and creased. She handed her bouquet to her aunt and then unfolded the papers to read what she had written. “Thomas, when we first met, I felt like there was magic being conjured between us. You were kind, funny, a little flirty…” Her grin reappeared for that part, “and you had me thinking about you often after we went our separate ways. But fate didn’t keep us apart for long after that, and we had our first date. You already know how much an emotional connection means to me and that night, I felt like we’d grown one. I had my reservations about going on Ship-Wrecked, but I’m so thankful to have taken that leap of faith. It brought me to you, and vice versa. It brought love back into my heart in ways that I couldn’t imagine or describe. Your loving heart and unfailing kindness deserve to be protected, nurtured, and cherished. I hope to do all of those things, always.” She sniffed and quickly wiped away another rebellious tear. “I also promise you my heart, my fidelity, my support, and my love. I vow to be by your side, always. I vow to find some way to tell you each and every day of our lives that I love you. I promise to always be in your corner no matter what, and to live this life with you as your partner–in the community, in our home, in parenting, and in whatever other ways life calls for us to be partners. Thank you for being the king to my queen. Thank you for loving me, and for letting me love you back.” While folding the paper back up again, she whispered, “I love you, Thomas.”

--SEBASTIÁN--

There was no way there was a dry eye around them. Sebastián listened to the couple intently, smiling and chuckling during the appropriate times. Once the vows had been delivered, he smiled at them, placing his hand over their joined hands. "That was beautiful. Join me in the couple's I do's and ring exchange. Do you Thomas, take Celeste to be your wife?" He waited for a response and then continued. "Do you promise to love, cherish and protect her, whether in good fortune or in adversity, and to seek with her a life hallowed by god?" Seb waited for the rings and for Thomas to answer before repeating the same to Celeste.

--THOMAS--

"I do. I absolutely do," Thomas smiled and took the ring for Celeste. The ceremony had been pretty quick so far, but it covered all the bases. He thought ceremonies didn't have to be long for them to be meaningful and sweet. "I love you," he whispered to Celeste.

--CELESTE--

Grinning from ear to ear, Celeste watched Thomas place the ring on her finger after saying his 'I do's and then she lifted her brown eyes to his blue pair. Her smile softened as she whispered back to him, "I love you." And when Sebastián repeated the same lines to her, she nodded, "I do, now and always." She turned back as Antony held her bouquet but extended Thomas's ring to her. Celeste placed the ring on Thomas's finger and once it was in place, she squeezed his hand, grinning as she knew the ceremony was nearing its end.

--SEBASTIÁN--

Sebastián was grinning from ear to ear, excited to announce the words everyone had been waiting for. "I ask you and all your dear ones to bow your heads in reverence. Silently pray that God will bless the home of Thomas and Celeste and that they each, and together, may achieve their highest hopes." He paused so everyone can join. "To make your relationship work will take love. This is the core of your marriage and why you are here today. It will take trust, to know, that in your hearts, you truly want what is best for each other. It will take dedication, to stay open to one another - and to learn and grow together. It will take faith, to go forward together, without knowing exactly what the future brings. And it will take commitment, to hold true to the journey you both have pledged to today. He gestured so that glasses could be brought forward to crush. "After Thomas and Celeste breaks the glass, I invite everyone to shout the Hebrew words “Mazel Tov,” meaning “Good Luck” and “Congratulations.”

--THOMAS--

Thomas also prayed, thanking G-d for his wife and their babies. He was so grateful for the three of them being in his life, and he was thankful that he was getting a second chance at the life he always wanted. Everlasting love and to become a father. At the very end of the ceremony, Thomas kissed Celeste and stomped on the blown glass, hearing the satisfying sound of it shattering. As everyone cheered, he took his wife's hand and walked with her back up the aisle. "We did it!" he smiled at her. And Thomas gave her another kiss at the end for the photographer to capture.

--CELESTE--

As she listened to Sebastián continue to lead and ultimately conclude the ceremony, Celeste kept her hands in Thomas's, only letting go of him when it came time for him to smash the glass. The quick pop of the glass breaking under Thomas's shoe made Celeste grin, and it stayed there through the cheering and clapping from their surrounding friends and family. She retrieved her bouquet from Antony and mouthed a 'Thank you' to him before happily heading back up the aisle with Chris. She could have practically been floating the whole way with how completely buoyant she was feeling. She and Thomas were married. He was her husband now and she was his wife! In that moment, nothing could keep the smile off of her face, even as he pulled her in for another kiss. She draped her arms around his neck and gladly kissed him back, whispering, "I love you," to him the moment their lips parted.

They would have a little bit of time for some photos with their wedding party and family before heading to the reception, but once that was finished--or rather, once Aldrich had to intervene and encourage their guests to get to the reception venue--Celeste took Thomas's hand again and walked with him from the gardens and the park, thanking a few passersby for their, "Congratulations!" to the newlyweds. Once they reached the park's edge, an all white classic car with a sharply dressed driver was awaiting them. The bumper was adorned with a "Just married" banner and some pale green and purple ribbons. Celeste grinned and looked to Thomas. "My parents set this up for us, to and from the venue." The photographer snapped a few more photos of the couple at the car, and then, with a steady helping hand from her husband, she climbed into the back seat, waited for him to join her, and the two were whisked off to enjoy the rest of their wedding day, together.

#Marry Me para #Thomas #Come What May #Sebastian #swwedding

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bunsblr · 3 years

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Tu... torial? Pt. 5.

Final part of my tutorial! This is a little all over the place, because that’s how I am in this stage of editing. Also I didn’t proofread this...

Open this in dashboard for best view of the screenshots.

Disclaimer: I have no formal training for any kind of graphics stuff, I work in an office as a receptionist - I serve coffee for a living. I am absolutely self taught and while I consider myself pretty comfortable with photoshop, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t about a gazillion of other things that can be done that I have no idea about. There are people far superior than me in the Sims community. This is just how I do it, with techniques I have picked up through the years. Some things I go over in these will be pretty basic, some things a little more unorthodox. Disclaimer 2: My edits take time. This is what I do to relax, one edit takes several hours for me. Sometimes days :))) Disclaimer 3: My photoshop is in Swedish, which is my first language. I tried my best to find the English translations for every step that I do.

Tools used: The Sims 4, Adobe Photoshop 2020, One by Wacom Pen Tablet (very basic and unfancy).

It´s hair time baby! I very much enjoy drawing hair on sims. I make a new empty layer on top of my base Sim layer.

This is where having a drawing tablet makes a huge difference. We need the brush to be sensitive to pressure to get the effect of hair strands. I chose a hard brush, small small size (how small depends on the picture size of course, but I usually land somewhere 6-9 px)

I pick up a color from the hair, I usually starts with a medium light color.

I start by drawing strands around any tips of the hair so they don't look quite so solid. I do this part with both short and long hairs. Hot lazy tip: straight unlayered hairs is the absolute easiest. This is a layered hair so I start with the bottom and work my way up. I pick up different colors from the hair as I go along, to add dept.

Continuing up in the hair and add strands to the pointy bits.

When I feel like the pointy bits have been softened I select one of my hair brushes. I use these ones by Para Vine.

I start painting "around" the hair with one of the lighter colors picked up from the hair, changing the direction of the brush every once in a while for a more natural result.

After this the hair is looking a little fuzzy, so I'm going to go back with my small harder brush to fill these parts out.

I don't add a lot of them, just small bits here and there for filling.

This is a little overkill but... now we have some of that "squary" thing going on in the hair as well that are still showing through our painted layer. Now we could paint over these, but painting can actually be overdone and I wan't to keep the hair recognizeable because the creator put a lot of work into it! So I go into liquify and smooth over any wonky lines still showing, just slightly.

A comparison of before and after hair. Still recognizeable, but softer.

This is our result so far. We've come a long way, but we're not done.

At this point (or actually sometimes sooner) I add an adjustment Curves layer, this will not end up in the finished image, this is just to give me an idea of what the image might look like with more contrast (which we will add later). I keep this at the very top of the layer panel and turn this on and off as I go. Very important to have it turned off if we are going to eyedrop a color and use that to paint, since it would pick up the wrong hue if we have it turned on.

Now I still want the front of my sim to be a little darker to fit my lighting, but I don't want to go over with any more shadow. So I duplicate my Sim layer, and go to Layer -> Adjustments -> Curves. This will only change the active layer, as opposed to creating an adjustment layer down in the Layer panel that will change all layers below it. I drag the curve down a bit to make my new Sim layer darker.

I add a layer mask to my new Sim layer, and bucket fill it with black color so the new layer gets hidden.

I chose an absolutely HUGE soft brush, with medium opacity, and starts painting white on the areas where I want the new darker layer to be showing. And blend by going back with black where the line is to harsh.

Time to add some highlights. I create a new empty layer between my two Sim layers, and add a clipping mask by holding Alt and hovering on the line between the new layer and my bottom sim layer, until the little square with the arrow symbol comes up and then click. This will make whatever I do on my new highlight layer, only show up on the areas where the layer underneath is filled.

Time to paint. I disable the curve adjustment layer for this. I choose a bright color, in this case a light pink because I didn't want a contrasting color for this picture. I go with a big soft brush around the edges where I want my highlight to hit. In this case, the arm, the hand, the arch of the back and the calf. I didn't add anything to the face in this picture because I didn't like the way it looked, but usually a little highlight to one of the cheeks is just *chef's kiss*

And somewhere around here I got really stuck and really struggled to follow with this tutorial. I felt the picture was lacking something and I tried several different things. I added light rays, tried creating different light sources, there was a moon at some point. But I ended up with just a simple additional gradient shadow down in the right corner (on a new layer down in the Background layer group). Life changing…

And then I didn't like the pink highlight on the skin (sigh, this is how I work, but it’s not recommended to be this indecisive) so I removed that and added a more beige-yellowee highlight instead. And forgot to take a picture after the highlight was added....

And now I go into nitpicking mode. I add a new empty layer on top of my Sim layer, I add it under the highlight layer so it automatically takes on the clipping mask of the Sim layer, I name it Clean-up Crew and go in to refine anything slightly wonky. Picking up colors with the eyedrop tool and going over flaws with a tiny brush.

When I fixed this little light area on the back of her head I left the Clean-up Crew layer and went to my Hair layer instead, because I still have that separate and it's above all the other layers.

I thought my sim was a little too far down in the picture so I moved her up by selecting my whole Sim layer group and the layer on which I have her ground shadow, chosing the move tool and pushing them up. This will move all the layers in the Sim layer group as well as the ground shadow layer equally.

I'm telling y'all, nitpicking mode could go on forever. Added more strands to the bangs.

Noticed a little pointy part on the calf, so I wen't into Liquify on the base Sim layer and smoothed that out. Since the highlight layer has a Clipping Mask corresponding to the Sim layer, the highlight stayed in place.

I duplicate my Sim layer group once more, and merge the layers within this group. So now the Hair, Highlight and Clean-up Crew is all merged onto the Sim layer. I hide the previous Sim groups.

With my new Sim layer selected, I go to Image -> Adjustments -> Hue/Saturation. I want to make my Sim a little less bright so it will match the background a bit better.

I drag down the Saturation and Brightness slider a bit until I like what I see. After this I save my whole image as a PNG-file because from now on I want to edit the whole picture but still want to keep this psd-file as it is for anxiety purposes. Important: I disable my curves layer before saving this as a picture, I don’t want that brought with me into the next steps because I will be adding new curves there.

I open my new saved PNG-file. I go to Filter -> Convert for Smart filters. This will allow us to go back and change any filters we add to this layer. I go to Filter -> Camera Raw Filter and for some reason this window opens up humongus. I start by dragging down the temperature. How much depends on the picture, usually more if it's nighttime.

I pull up the Whites a bit for a cleaner look.

Now I add a Curve Adjustment Layer. Now you can add Contrast in the Camera Raw Filter as well, but I prefer the curve layer because I like to control the different levels. This way I can make my darkest parts a little brighter, giving just a little washed out flair to it all.

I select my background layer again and go to Filter -> Noise -> Add Noise and choose a level that I think looks good. This just brings the picture together a bit more. Also vintage vibes :)))

I add my frame (because it´s my aestethic and I think it looks cool on tumblr) by resizing my workspace and adding a filled white layer underneath the background layer.

I resize my picture (Image -> Image Size) because we don't need it to be huge.

And they I just fine tune the Filters and Curves until the end of time :’)))

And that is that my friends! That’s the end of the tutorial! I hope you could follow somewheat and that someone found it useful. Thank you for reading and never be afraid of contacting me if you have any questions :) I’m very friendly.

#ts4 edit #tutorial

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janekfan · 3 years

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Saw you were looking for some Jon Tim prompts so here's a few! :D 1) Tim decides to stalk Jon to show him what it feels like. Jon is satisfyingly frazzled; then a fear shows up. 2) Jon protects Tim from the Distortion Michael. Tim's confused. 3) Jon get lost in the tunnels. Perhaps Tim can hear him from the trap door and ends up pulling him out. They're both in bad shape and Martin is ticked. 4) Tim finds Jon after he gets stabbed by Michael. Happy Prompt Hunting!

I went with number 4! :D All are very good though

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28436451

Jon was being shifty again.

Not like that was anything new, and Tim had caught wind of a bread knife rumor?

But whatever. It was no concern of his and he’d rather go the day withouth seeing him if he could. Avoid the hot spike of poisonous anger that followed after every infuriating interaction and seeped, staining, into all other aspects of his life. Better to leave him be. Let Basira and Daisy and Melanie and Martin deal with him and leave Tim to work on his high scores.

So of course it would just be the two of them in the office today. Martin dropped off Jon’s tea like clockwork and strode bitterly out of the Archives without so much as glancing at Tim. He’d delivered his warnings earlier when he’d been assigned this field research and Tim would follow the instructions to leave him be to the letter.

“He’s exhausted, Tim.”

“Don’t care.”

“I. I know. What I’m trying to say is don’t make things worse.” Tim scoffed at that. Yes, he would be the ones making it all worse. Because it wasn’t worse already. Sasha wasn’t gone, they weren’t trapped here because of Jon who definitely hadn’t turned into some paranoid stalker armed with evil powers.

But yeah. He wouldn’t make things worse.

The makeshift pad of gauze and bandaging was soaked through with his own bright blood and staring at it brought a wash of dizziness over him and flooded his mouth with salt. Before he could faint dead away he reached for his dwindling supplies and prepared to change the dressing. If it didn’t stop this time, he’d have no choice but to ask for help.

If they’d spare any.

Jon hissed through his teeth when removing the compress served only to break the clot, pouring a hot runnel over his skin that caught and welled and spilled over the ladder of his ribs. Blacked at the edges, his vision tunneled, and nausea coiled sour in his stomach. It hurt. It hurt to breathe, to think, to move, deep, deep, deep and aching in the very core of him. Graceless and bumbling, Jon struggled to cover the surprisingly small incision and wrap himself tight enough to please, please stop bleeding. Holding himself close and careful, Jon staggered to his feet only to knock his hip hard against the desk as he went woozy.

He’d stood for something. Risked toppling over for something but the pounding of his pulse in his temples made everything that much harder and the room was spinning around and around and he nearly joined it, teetering a half turn before lurching to a stop, pressing his arm against his throbbing side.

It hurt.

One of them must have painkillers of some sort. Sash--

She. He.

How could he’d have forgotten? A bolt of fresh sorrow struck him so hard in the chest it stole his breath away with it and he sagged beneath its gravity, gripping the cool metal of the door handle painfully for support, looking down and seeing it as though it were the first time.

Where…? He needed something. Needed...because it hurt. He hurt and he needed help.

“Jesus, Jon!” Tim’s whole body flinched violently when he realized Jon was hovering near his desk like a wraith, sallow and with shadows like bruises lining the sharp planes of his face. “What?” His silence was petrol on the fire of Tim’s always simmering anger and it flared brightly, blinding, such that Jon staggered a step back, lifting a trembling hand only to drop it back to his side.

“T’Tim.” He swallowed with a click, and Tim watched his throat work, lashes fluttering like moth’s wings, brows knit together in effort and confusion.

“Out with it!”

“D’you‘ave pa, para…?” Even with his tripped up tongue, the compulsion found a way to thread through the question and Tim saw the fear fill up Jon’s glassy eyes when he realized a beat later what he’d done. Resisting was painful, the static filled up his ears, his head, his blood with its continuous hiss, rising higher and higher as he tried his damndest not to answer what really was a simple question. It wasn’t about that though. It wasn’t alright for Jon to take like that, to use whatever the hell this was to pull what he wanted to know from the inside of them without a thought. To hurt them just to Know.

In the end, he had no choice and coughed up his elucidation like a mouthful of razors, slamming his fist against his desk and using the leverage to stand and confront him.

“S’sorry. Din’t...” slurred and barely intelligible, the empty apologies only made Tim angrier and for one awful moment, he wanted to hit him. Give back just a fraction of the pain he’d caused all of them with his selfish ignorance. He wrestled it down with difficulty, clenched his teeth against the residual ache of Jon’s power.

“What’d you do to yourself?” Because the man looked hungover, sweaty and sick, paler by the minute and he wouldn’t blame him for crawling into a bottle. Might even be inclined to join him if he ever extended an offer.

“H’hur’s.” Jon’s overture broke open in a sob, his clawing, grasping fingers twisted in his dark jumper over his stomach and it looked as though he was considering lurching for the bin.

“Are you pisse--whoa!” Instead, Jon stumbled into him and reflexively, Tim shoved him away, like he was something disgusting, watching him trip over clumsy feet and land hard on his side in a sprawl of uncoordinated limbs. Tim yanked him up roughly, ignoring the sharp intake of breath, and tugged him back to his office by a bony elbow, muttering unkindly, “just sober up or whatever.”

The door slammed behind Jon and reverberated into his aching bones. He’d forgotten what he needed and the pain was so bad now it had removed any remaining will he had to stay awake. After Tim pushed him and he hit the ground, (clumsy, stupid, can’t even walk on your own) it was like being stabbed by Michael all over again; a burst of bright white twisting, turning, contorting agony that wasn’t easing so much as it was spreading all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Maybe if he sat down, got off his feet, he’d not feel so ill. Yes...yes that would be good. It would be nice to rest for a moment, just close his burning eyes, just for a little while. Then he could get back to work, finish up those statements he was working on. He was working on statements? When he went to step forward a sharp pain rocked through him hard enough that he had to brace himself on the unforgiving hard wood of the desk.

What--

Suddenly weak in the knees, Jon all but collapsed into his chair, curling into himself, every harsh and hollow gasp of breath like the bite of a knife.

Half five and Jon still hadn't emerged a second time from his office. Tim was the only one left besides him and despite how adamantly he refused to care he does not want to draw Martin’s temper. This had nothing to do with his own concern and armed with the distance that afforded him, Tim knocked loudly, obnoxiously, rudely.

There was no response.

“Oi, Jon!” Shouldering open the door, he’s got a rant on the tip of his tongue and is looking forward to using it. “Drunk at work, whatever will Marto say? The scandal…” With no reaction forthcoming, no moaning or groaning or yelling Tim took a second to actually look at him, lying collapsed over his desk, cheek pillowed on one folded arm. He’s passed clean out, and Tim touched his forehead only to find it cold and clammy. Something was far from alright if Jon’s rapid, shallow breathing and nearly grey lips were anything to go by. “Boss?” He was slack and loose when Tim shook him none too gently, mouth falling open with an almost inaudible whine. Alarm bells were ringing, red flags cropping up the longer stayed in here with him and the weighty feeling of being watched made him shiver. Very suddenly he wanted out of there but when he pulled Jon upright his eyelids barely shifted and what little color remained drained from his face so quickly Tim barely got the bin in place for him to lose what little he had in his stomach, no more than a little tea really. If the moisture hadn’t glinted in the low light coming in from the other room, Tim wouldn’t have noticed the dark wet blotch blending with the fibers of Jon’s jumper or the red and rust staining his trousers halfway down his thigh.

“Jon!” He wasn’t awake, not really, body reacting with wretched whimpers and the sluggish shifting of his arms when Tim eased him out of the chair and onto the ground. “Shit. Shit!” 999. 999 and following their explicit instructions; elevate his legs, keep him warm, don’t let him aspirate on his own sick. He lifted the sopping and soaked fabric of his borrowed clothing and his hand flew to cover his mouth when he saw the damage and he thought back to Jon’s plea for paracetamol, the apparently accidental compulsion.

“H’hur’s.”

His whole flank was black with the blood pooled beneath his skin and smeared with crimson above and when Tim applied his own crumpled up button down over top of the drenched bundle of gauze Jon cried out, writhing weakly under his punishing hands, eyes rolling wildly under bruised lids.

God. What was the point of being angry with Jon for not being honest, for not reaching out, if this is what happened when he did? If Tim was going to be rough with him, accuse him of being soused when really--

When really he was bleeding to death behind the closed door Tim put him behind so he didn’t have to look at him.

“T…”

“Hey, hey buddy.

“Hur’hurting me…” Slicked with weals of blood, Jon’s thin fingers slipped against Tim’s wrists, no strength to shift him, to stop what was happening, to stop him from hurting him like everybody else had hurt him, even though he was trying to save him. Jon didn’t understand, couldn’t, and he sobbed helplessly, keening cry lancing through Tim like the sharpest spear as yet again he was at the mercy of someone with more power. Catching up his hands, holding both in just one of his own, the hot blood was a painful contrast with Jon’s icy skin.

“Hush, I’m sorry, you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, Jon.”

“Nngh…ah!” Tim lifted his hands to his chest, cradled them there in all their scarred roughness and fragility, deadweight and limp.

“Soon now, just stay awake, bud. Stay with me.”

“T’T…” rapid breaths choked him off, left him gasping, fingers spasming in his hold.

Pulled gently away by unfamiliar hands.

Strangers’ voices muffled in his ears.

Jon’s half-lidded dull brown eyes filled with sharp fear.

All so slow Tim wasn’t sure any of it was happening at all until suddenly, a dawning of crystal clarity. Numbers and instructions and bodies, shouting, changing, moving.

Jon begging them to stop, stop--

“Stop hurting him!”

A firm grip pulled him to the side, forced him to look away from the red, red, red rising like a tide in his eyes until he couldn’t see anything else.

“We’re going to help him, but you need to let us.”

“...Y’yeah…”

“Are you coming?”

“Hm?”

“Sir?” Tim took in the sight of Jon’s blood still wet on the tile, the papers and folders in disarray and stained with drops like poppy petals plotting a course of ache and agony he didn’t want to travel.

And then Jon. Strapped down, held in place, fluids being forced into his collapsing veins. Face grey and lined with pain and streaked with red and--

“N’no. No.” The paramedics were already hurrying away. “I’ll. Someone will be there.”

It didn’t deserve to be him.

“Martin.”

“Tim, I swear to god--”

“Martin.”

“--get a hold of yourself for pity’s sake--”

“Martin!”

“What?!” An irritated huff passed over the line. “If this is just--”

“Jon’s in hospital, i’in surgery.” Stony silence run through with the vaguest hum of static fell between them.

“Tim--”

“I. I. I don’t think it was a bread knife.” Tim’s fingers were clenched around his phone so hard he thought it might crack as he kneeled beside the stain Jon left behind. Say nothing of Martin’s implication that this was his fault. That he’d done this to Jon.

But hadn’t he driven him to it?

Hadn’t he driven Jon to keep his pain and terror and sadness and secrets to himself when he turned on him? When he blamed him? When he came to him today, tried to reach for him, to reach for help, and was again denied?

“Tim!”

“M--”

“Where?”

“Wh’happen’...?”

“Jon?” This wasn’t the first time he’d been awake but it was the first time he’d done more than weep with confusion. Perfectly normal, Martin had been assured, between the anesthesia, the medication for pain, the massive internal hemorrhage they’d had to go in and repair, somehow saving his spleen of all things.

“Mmartin?” The effort to speak was dragging him back out to sea with exhaustion, heavy lashes struggling to part under the weight of it and only offering glimpses of glassy brown.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” Gently, Martin brushed back through his curls taking note of the too-cool temperature of his skin and the ink-dark bruises like kohl under his eyes. “It’s alright, I’m right here.”

“I, I…” Somewhere between his protest and a damp sob, Jon dropped off the edge of the precipice and Martin thumbed away the tears lining his cheeks before taking up his hand to resume his attempts at rubbing the warmth back into it.

“You should go home.” Tim was quieter than he’d ever heard him before, still likely cowed from their earlier conversation where the only thing Martin could look at was the copper embedded under his fingernails, smeared across his wrists and gone dark with oxidation. “He’s in good hands.”

“And how would you know that, Tim?” Bitter. Frustrated. Angry. Jon should have been in good hands before. Trusted hands. Hands that may well be spiteful, resentful, but hands that wouldn’t let Jon slip through the cracks regardless.

“I just meant.” Martin wasn’t able to look at him, afraid of what he might say next, afraid that he might physically throw the other man from the room for daring to deny Jon the slightest support.

“Last time I left you with him, he ended up here.”

“That’s--” Voice raised, shouting, and even down deep Jon flinched, arms shifting in an attempt to protect his face. Martin was livid, settling Jon with a few whispered words before turning to confront Tim.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.”

“I didn’t…” Tim was small, folding into himself and sharp at his corners, bristling and contrite.

“I’ll text you with an update if there is one.”

“I. I’m sorry, Martin.” But he neither needed nor wanted an apology. He wasn’t the one Tim wronged today.

A week later saw Martin helping Jon up the narrow steps to his flat, concerned by his pallor and the trembling in his limbs and when he finally dropped him onto the lumpy sofa, saw that he was sweating.

“I’ll make some tea.” He’d purchased a few essentials to go along with his prescriptions. It wouldn’t do if he made himself ill on an empty stomach. If he listened closely he could just hear Jon’s panting, making certain to bring water along with the mug and a few chocolate digestives to offset the loss of blood still exacerbating his fatigue.

“M’quite alright, Martin.” He had yet to sit up, still laying back among the cushions, one scarred forearm laid above his nose. “Don’have to coddle me.” Martin didn’t rise to his bait, instead ignoring him in favor of sitting beside where his greater weight tipped Jon gently into his side. He didn’t resist, instead embracing his vulnerability and sinking deeper into the warm wool of his jumper with a sullen hum.

“I’m not “coddling” you, Jon.” Steeped to his preferences, Martin pressed the tea into his hands, lingering to be certain he could hold it on his own before tucking a biscuit between his forefinger and the porcelain and then another when he polished it off, probably not thinking about it.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Barely audible over the rim of his mug, Jon kept his eyes downcast and Martin couldn’t see under his long lashes from the angle he was at. He’d asked a few times, understanding his disappointment was aimed at Tim and not at Jon, at least not this time. They’d discussed the incident and Martin got the sense that he wanted no part in a repeat performance though he’d explained his attempt at asking for help was the last time he was cognizant enough to think in a somewhat straight line. After that it was pain and cold and shadow and Tim crushing him into the floor and he didn’t understand.

“Yeah.” Martin sipped on his own tea, encouraged Jon to do the same, but he was a dog with a bone.

“Is he. Uh. Cross? With. With me?” He looked up, tired eyes wide and round. “I mean, more than, than the usual?”

“Jon.”

“I know! I.” Falling silent, Jon nibbled absentmindedly on the last biscuit and accepted the tablets to swallow with the dregs of his tea. He’d be out like a light soon with that painkiller and Martin tugged him up when he hissed through his teeth at the agony of trying to move and caught him when he listed on his feet. Rather than hovering, Martin decided instead to keep an ear out as he put away the groceries and filled a glass of water for his nightstand, meeting Jon back at the sofa where he held a stack of bedding topped with pillows.

“I know.” He swallowed, “you’re here out of, of obligation? Kindness? But. But I’ll be fine on my own--you don’t have to stay.” Martin shook his head, a sad smile spreading over his lips as he relieved Jon of his bundle, longing to pull him into an embrace and relieve him of the invisible burden he carried alone. Compromising, he settled for cupping a slim shoulder, not missing how he melted under the soft touch.

“I’m here because we’re friends, Jon.” Unexpected tears welled in his eyes, spilling over as his staid expression crumpled. “Oh, oh, Jon, come here. It’s alright.” Spent, Jon let his forehead collide with his chest, crying silently, and Martin abandoned the duvet in favor of folding him up. “It’s alright.”

“S’sorry...just.” But he couldn’t get any more words out and Martin ran a hand up and down his taut back, rubbing circles over the sharp blades of his shoulders.

“You don’t have to be.” In a few moments the energy began to ooze out of Jon’s bones, the meds kicking in full force and taking his strength with it. “Okay, time for bed.” With a bit of cautious manhandling, Martin was able to get him tucked in between the sheets, meeting eyes blinking slow like those of a cat. “Comfy?”

“Mmyeah…” slipping out on an exhale and it brought a grin back to Martin’s face to see him so relaxed and more than a little loopy. “Hey Martin?” Graceless, Jon’s clumsy fingers tangled with his. “Thank you.” Cross eyed with the effort of sincerely conveying his gratitude, he spoke earnestly, if marble-mouthed and Martin felt his own cheeks flush hot in the velvet dark. He allowed himself to tuck stray and greying flyaways behind Jon ear before sweeping a thumb over the bone of his cheek and watching him drift under. Martin slipped away, keeping the door open in case something happened, and made up his own bed, listening to Jon’s soft and sleepy sounds.

“Good night, Jon.”

#TMA #the magnus archives #jon sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #stabbed #hurt comfort #fluff #pining #blood #internal bleeding #crying #tears

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

Text

My Favorite Moments from It All Started with a Jacket (Chapters 1-10)

Now that I have written ten chapters of It All Started with a Jacket (how the hell are y’all still reading it), I thought I comemorate the occasion by sharing my favorite moments from each chapter. More specifically, every moment that was the most fun for me to write. This can range from moments that made me laugh at my own dumb jokes, or moments that I felt proud of for how well they turned out. Either way, this list is gonna be long. Like, rrrreeeaaallllllyyy lllooonnng. So you might want to strap in before clicking ‘Keep reading.’

Chapter 1

Amity and the car horn

"Oh no, you don't!" Luz sprinted over to Amity's car, to which her rival had already gotten in, and locked the doors. Just as Amity started the engine, Luz was already there, beating her hand against the window.

"If you think I'm too afraid to break a car window, you've got another thing--"

HOOONK!

"...You've got another--"

HOOOOOONK!

"You've got--"

Amity raised her hand above the car horn again with her eyebrow raised and her grin amused. She was essentially challenging Luz to finish that sentence.

"..."

"...You'vegotanotherthingcoming--"

HOOOOOOOOOONK!

"THAT TEARS IT!"

Amity sniffing Luz’s jacket (the main reason why I wrote this in the first place)

Amity set the hanger back where she found it and slowly lifted Luz's jacket up to her face. For a while, she did nothing, choosing instead to just stare at it. And then, she briefly took a small sniff.

'Well, that was a mistake,' was all she could think as intoxicating smells of pinecones and lemons started overtaking her senses. Almost immediately, Amity grabbed the jacket with both hands and shoved her face into it, inhaling more of the scent. After letting out a euphoric sigh, Amity looked at it again, shrugged, and put it back on.

Amity’s apology

"I said that I'm sorry." Amity continued, "Not just for the jacket, but for everything. The insults, the name-calling, and especially the fighting. I'm sorry for all of it."

"...Are you dying?"

"Wha--No!" now Amity turned to face Luz, "Why is that the first thing that came to your mind?"

"I don't know, man," Luz shrugged, "This just seems like some sort of final repentance type of shit. Like when Tom needed Jerry to sign him off to take the escalator to heaven."

"Who the hell is Tom and Jerry?"

"The greatest comic duo of all time, that's who!" Luz genuinely seemed insulted that Amity didn't know, to which she rolled her eyes in response.

Luz’s reaction

Luz opened the door and was about to leave. But then:

"I saw the bi flag."

After Amity spoke, Luz froze in her place. One foot was out the door, and her face was already turned away from Amity's, so she couldn't gauge an expression. So Amity took her chance to go on.

"It's hidden in a spot a person could barely notice, so there's no way that it came with the flag already sewn it," she explained, "Even if you bought the jacket from someone else, you could have easily torn it out. I've seen you done worse. But you kept it in, which makes me think that maybe...That maybe you're bisexual."

Luz didn't say anything.

She didn't do anything.

Instead, she stayed frozen in place, and Amity still couldn't tell what was going on in the human's mind at the moment. Not that she ever could. Eventually, Luz slowly and stiffly sat back in the passenger seat and slammed the car door shut. Her eyes were tight shut, and breathing was ragged, and Amity thought Luz was seething. But then Amity recognized what Luz was doing. She had done the same thing many times when forced to talk with her mother.

Luz was forcing herself not to cry.

Luz’s rant

"...Did you not tell anybody?" was all Amity could ask.

"...I told Willow," Luz confessed, "She has gay dads, so I thought: 'Hey, she gets it.' Other than that, nobody else knows. Except for you."

"Not even your mom?"

"Especially not her! She's super religious! If I came out to her, then I might as well pack a suitcase and get ready to live on the streets!"

"Why?"

"Because humans are not like witches," Luz looked back at Amity, clapping her hands for emphasis, "For humans, what matters in life is the color of your skin, the people you like, and the gender you're given at birth. Go against any of that, and you're screwed!"

"That's awful."

"That's life!" Luz stated, her eyes glistening, "And I had to put up with that bullshit for all of it! I had to deal with dumb gringas in the locker room who might think that I was a pervert just because I liked girls. I had to deal with pretending to be interested in one gender and hide a part of myself that people think I should be ashamed of! I had to deal with the fear that the one person I trust the most might throw me to the curb because of something that shouldn't even matter!"

Luz paused to wipe tears that had leaked out from her eyes.

"I had to deal with all of that," she went on, "Because that's just what humans are like. I wish we were like witches. I really do. But we're not, and the sad part is, we might never will."

Chapter 2

Luz is a prick

Luz kicked a discarded beer can down the sidewalk. Only to just as quickly picking it up and ditching it in a recycling bin that someone left out on the curb for trash day. Luz may be a rebel, but she isn't a lazy prick.

"And what the hell does me being bi have anything to do with it?"

"Bi what?"

Luz stopped both her walk and her ramblings after hearing that voice. Looking to her left, Luz saw a woman carrying her groceries to her house. That woman is Mrs. Kranstien, a white, middle-aged gossip who's part of Luz's mom's church group. Also known as the last person Luz wanted to find out that she's bisexual.

"Uh, bilingual," Luz brushed it off, seeming like she isn't panicking right now. Which she is. "Significa que hablo dos idiomas. What else could I mean?"

"Well, you don't have to be so rude about it," Mrs. Kranstien harrumphed, "It is not becoming of a young lady."

"Y no tienes que meter la nariz donde no pertenece," Luz shrugged, "Pero, ¿quién soy yo para juzgar?"

"...What does that mean?"

"It means you're absolutely right, and I am so sorry for being so rude," Luz turned on her heel and kept walking, "Adios, gringa!"

"Is 'gringa' a compliment!" Mrs. Kranstien called out as Luz walked away.

"Sure is! Make sure to say it to your friends when you have the chance!"

Ok, maybe she is a little bit of a prick.

Luz’s indecision

"Should I do this?"

Luz gently rubbed the blade of the knife.

"...Yeah. Yeah, I definitely should."

She lowered the blade over a thread sewn in but stopped a tenth of a millimeter away from it.

"But it's not even noticeable."

Luz raised the knife away.

"Although Blight did notice it."

And lowered it back down again.

"But that's because she was wearing it. It's not like mom could ever wear this."

"But what if it's laundry day and she takes the jacket without you knowing?"

"I mean, that could happen, but she would have to actively search for it."

"Is that really worth the risk, though?"

Luz started twirling the knife in her fingers at this point. The bi flag still remained intact, with not a single thread being taken out. Most days, Luz would barely notice it, and she's the one who always wears her jacket. Now, more than ever, the bright colors of the flag seemed incredibly noticeable.

"No," Luz shook her head, "It's not worth the risk."

She lowered the knife again and even got the blade under a thread. But before she could do anything remotely similar to removing the string, she hesitated. Again.

"...But it's also who I am," Luz sighed, pocketing her knife and putting the jacket back on.

"It's a part of me," Luz lightly beat the back of her head against the wall, "Taking it off isn't going to change anything, and it especially won't make me any less bi."

Chapter 3

Nerds being nerds

Amity nearly spat out her slushie.

"You read The Good Witch Azura?" Luz rolled her eyes at the question.

"Alright, listen," she started, "Before you make fun of me for it, you should know--"

"I love Azura."

"--It's not the cutesy kids' book that people think...it...is..." Luz looked shocked as she faced Amity's wide grin, "What did you just say?"

"It was my favorite book series growing up," Amity explained, "It still is, today."

"...No shit."

"Yeah! In fact, when I was nine, I wished I could have been just like Azura herself."

"Same!" Luz's smile became just as wide, "The grand adventures? The ability to just get along with everybody she meets? That was the shit for when I just a little tater tot."

"For me, it was how powerful her magic is," Amity confessed, "I could only dream of being as talented as she is."

Chapter 4

Snowball fight

And that's when something cold hit her in the back of the head.

Turning around to find the culprit, Amity saw none other than Luz hiding her laughter behind a hand.

"Did you just do what I think you did?!" Amity asked incredulously.

"Hey, we may be cool now...but I'm gonna take a shot when I see it. Alright?"

Amity glared at that, drawing a spell circle soon after. At the circle's completion, two dozen snowballs began to rise in the air around them, and Luz's face became pale to the sight.

"...On second thought," Luz nervously smiled as she raised her hands in surrender, "Parlay?"

"..."

Amity pointed her finger at Luz, and all of the snowballs immediately knocked the human onto her back.

"I don't think so," Amity quipped, walking over and offering a hand to her friend.

“Drug” deal

"Is that a bad thing?"

"...Eh, probably not," Luz shrugged, "I got the goods in my backpack, by the way. You want me to give it to you now, or wait until after school?"

"t sounds like you have drugs in your backpack with the way you said that."

"Who says that I don't?"

Amity let out a light laugh. Luz didn't even seem shocked anymore.

"I'll wait until after school," Amity said when they got to the double doors, "The last thing I need is the wrong person to find out that I like...you know what."

"Got it," Luz nodded only to then lean closer to whisper, "I'll see then for the transfer. And if you get caught, I was never there."

"Ok, now I got to ask: Are you actually planning to give me drugs after school."

"Of course not!"

Luz winked.

"Drugs are bad, especially for our age."

She winked again.

"I wouldn't ever dream of doing something so vile."

And again.

"...I hate you."

"What else is new?"

"Just give me the book after school, doofus!" Amity said between chuckles.

"Yes. Of course. 'The book.'"

Luz winked for the fourth time, and Amity just pulled the human's beanie over her face in response. The two then laughed as they went their separate ways.

Amity’s jealousy

"Hey, is it ok if I ask you a favor?"

"Depends," Luz blew into her hands for extra warmth, "What's the favor?"

"Well...Skara invited me to a party she's throwing next Friday. And I was wondering if you could come with me."

"Which one is Skara again," Luz asked, "I know she's one of Boscha's lackeys, but I can't remember. Is she the tall and skinny one, the small and cute one, or the hot yet nerdy looking one?"

If she wasn't wearing gloves right now, Amity would wager that her knuckles went white with how tightly her hands gripped the steering wheel.

"You think Cat is hot?"

"Eh. Objectively, yeah," Luz shrugged, "Also, I didn't know her name was Cat. Should probably make a note of that."

"She also has a boyfriend," Amity said a little too quick, "And she's straight as a board. So go ahead and...unnote that. Just take that note and...throw it in a river somewhere."

"...Ok? Weirdo."

"Anyways, Skara is the short and--" Amity steeled herself before saying, "Cute one."

Luz helping Skara

She eventually found herself in a hall that led to bedrooms, only to see Skara sprinting around and picking up discarded beer cans and red solo cups and tossing them into a trash bag. She then opened a random door, squeaked, and slammed it shut, leaning against it while pressing her palms into her eyes.

"Why do that in my parents' bedroom!?" she cried to no one in particular.

Usually, Luz wouldn't give a shit about any of Boscha's lackeys. And yet, something compelled her to walk over.

"Are they making out or doing something worse," she asked, which caused Skara to look up in surprise.

"...What...What are you doing here?"

"Don't question it," Luz nodded to the door, "In there. Are they just making out?"

"...Yes, but it's still--"

Luz pounded on the door, making Skara jump.

"Hey!" she shouted, "That's not your bed, assholes! If you want privacy, then go to the back of your car like decent human beings!"

"We're not humans!"

"Not the point!"

For a while, nothing happened. Then finally, two boys walked out of the room, hand in hand with their clothes ruffled, and started shuffling their way down the hall. Skara just stood where she was, not knowing what to say or do.

"Hey," Luz snapped her fingers to get Skara's attention, "If a person starts acting like a prick, be an even bigger prick. Someone's going to eventually back down, so don't let it be you. They'll get the point, then. Oh, and by the way..."

She pulled the photo out of her jacket's pocket and tossed it to Skara, who then fumbled with the thing before catching it.

"Someone tried to steal that," Luz told her, "I don't know where it belongs so, there you go."

Luz then began to head in the direction of the stairs.

"Thank you."

The broken tone of voice made Luz freeze for a second, turning over her shoulder to see Skara looking at the human, her eyes full of gratitude and amazement.

"...Don't mention it," was all Luz said before walking down the hall to find the stairs.

Literally, everything that Drunk Amity does. But here’s the top five:

#5-Snuggle time

"I hate my life," Luz muttered, shuffling over. She pulled the covers up and slowly got into the bed. But once she did, Amity didn't waste a second wrapping her entire body around Luz's. Like a koala bear, clinging to a tree.

"...Do you mind?" Luz's voice cracked.

"What? I'm sleeping on my side."

"Yeah, but I'd prefer it if you slept on a side that wouldn't result in me getting puked on."

"But how will we snuggle?"

"Oh my god," Luz sighed, "You're not gonna back down from this, are you?"

"Mm-mm."

"...tell you what. If you flip onto your other side, I'll--I can't believe I'm saying this--I'll...spoon...you."

Amity gasped, her eyes practically glittering with stars as she looked up at Luz.

"That's even better," she whispered, untangling herself from Luz's body so she can flip onto her other side, already getting into a position to receive comfort. Luz, slowly and reluctantly, turned over to wrap an arm around Amity, pressing their bodies together.

'This is probably punishment for...every shitty thing I've done in my life," she thought to herself.

#4-Drink it!

"Drink it!"

"No!"

"Drink it."

"No!"

"Drink it!"

"Noooo!" Amity flopped face down onto her pillow as if she was a five-year-old. The bunny-print pajamas that Luz changed her into didn't help, either (it was the minor victories). With one hand, Luz started messaging her temple out of annoyance, while the other hand gripped tight onto a glass of water.

"Amity, if you're gonna lay down like a baby, then lay on your side," she explained, "If you face down, or up, then you'll just drown in your own vomit. And is that how you wanna go out?"

Amity flipped onto her side with a harrumph.

"That's what I thought," Luz held the glass up to Amity again, "Now drink this water."

"I don't wanna," the witch wined, "It doesn't have flavor. It's boring. Give something less boring."

#3-Amity’s love for Emira

"Who are you talking to?"

"Your sister."

"Oh! Hey, Luz," Amity started tapping Luz on the shoulder, "Luz, Luz, Luz, Luz--"

"What?"

"Tell her--Listen--Tell...Emira that she is the worst...and that I don't like her. It's an--Look--It's an inside joke between us. She'll understand it when you tell her."

"...Will do."

"Oh! And Luz,"

"What?" This time, Luz was starting to get aggravated.

"Emira--Don't tell her this part--But Emira is, like, the most important person to me. And Ed too. Sometimes. Because they've both always been there for me when our parents are being bigger dicks than they are. I just don't--Hey--I don't tell them that because then they'll make fun of me for it. So don't-- Shh! Don't tell her."

"...You got all that, right?" Luz asked into the scroll.

"Sure did. What the hell did she drink?"

#2-Tossing cookies

Amity's face suddenly paled. Luz couldn't figure what was wrong at first, at least until she saw Amity lurch.

"Oh, shit," Luz then guided Amity over to the nearest potted plant, "Shit shit shit shit--"

Once at the plant, Amity bent over and...lost her lunch.

"...Are you o--"

And then her breakfast.

"...Are--"

And finally tossed one last cookie for good measure.

"...You good?"

"Yeah," Amity looked up at her victim, which was already starting to wilt, "...This my mom's favorite plant..."

She then slapped it.

"Fuck you, plant!"

And #1...

The good news is that Luz finally found her.

The bad news is that Amity was standing on top of a table as everyone stared at her.

"I am the lesbian queen of the universe!" she shouted, "Y'all can bow down and kiss my ass!"

"Get it, girl!"

"You bet I'll get it, whoever you are! Seriously, who said that?" she called back, turning in a circle to find the source of the voice. However, because of Amity's drunken state, she soon tripped on her own feet and fell off the table. Luckily, Luz was quick to realize that wearing heels and being drunk was a bad combination, so she had already run over to the table, ready to catch Amity.

The green-haired witch landed in Luz's arms, bridal princess style. Luz then set her down, but Amity still wrapped her arms around the human's neck.

"You're my hero," Amity said wistfully.

"Yeah, I'm a real knight in shining--" But Luz didn't get a chance to finish her snarky remark. Because Amity leaned in to plant a wet, sloppy kiss onto Luz's cheek. This caused the human to go still and red-faced, her brain ceasing to function as Amity pulled away with a Mwah!

And on the topic of kisses

Luz remained still for a minute or two, ultimately thinking 'screw it,' and kissed Amity's cheek. It was about a millisecond, maybe even half of that, but it did not stop Luz's face from heating up.

"There. Happy now?"

"Nope," Amity faced Luz with a drunken smile, "Because now it's my turn."

"Wait, no- Mmph!" But it was too late. Because the second after Amity spoke, she leaned in to kiss Luz's cheek, giving Luz no time to even turn her head. Which resulted in Amity giving Luz another wet and sloppy kiss, not on her cheek, but right on her lips.

And perhaps it was just as long as Luz's kiss. Probably even a second longer. But for her, it felt as though time had come to a standstill as Amity's lips were pressed against Luz's. But regardless, Luz didn't pull away. She didn't even shove Amity off, despite having every reason to. In fact, when Amity finally pulled away from the kiss, Luz had this strange desire buried deep within her brain, yet she was still aware of it.

Because despite how weird it would be and how Amity's breath will absolutely taste awful, Luz felt a strange desire to kiss her friend again.

Chapter 6

The morning after

Curious, Amity looked over her shoulder to see the culprit.

'Oh, it's just Luz," she thought, slowly turning back over.

...

Amity's eyes popped open.

She whipped her head back to look over her shoulder, which was a mistake because the sudden rush made her hangover say, 'screw you,' and leave Amity with a ton of pain. Once it slowly wore off (or, at least, became a bit more bearable), Amity got a good look at the person behind her. And what she saw both warmed her heart, as well as stopped it.

Luz. Sleeping in Amity's bed. Pressed up against the witch and peacefully smiling as she dreamed.

This left a myriad of thoughts in Amity's head.

'Luz is in my bed.'

'Luz is in my bed, and she's spooning me.'

'...I need to wake her.'

But just as she was about to wake her friend, Luz, in her sleep, then shuffled herself further against Amity. Her sleepy smile had grown wider.

'...And I am dead. I am dead, have ascended the stars, and this now my life for eternity.'

Huge misunderstanding

Luz remained still, glancing between Amity's eyes and her lips. Ultimately, she closed the distance between them and kissed her.

And kissed her again.

And again.

It felt so amazing, with each kiss sending a wave of euphoric energy through Luz's body. It was everything she didn't know she wanted.

"Luz?" Amity gasped.

"Hm?"

"Are you awake right now?"

"Mm-hm," Luz mumbled as she continued to kiss Amity's sweet, soft, hairy--

'Hairy?'

***

Luz peaked open her eyes, and instead of seeing Amity's face, all she saw was bright green. Remembering where she was, Luz's eyes became wide once she took in the fact of what she just did.

"mmBAAAAAAAH!" Luz shrieked, pushing herself to the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, she pushed a little too far and ended up falling off the bed entirely, face-planting onto the floor.

Luz’s hairball

It was Luz's turn to get up as she walked over to the pile of her clothes on the desk.

"Just let me change first and--" She coughed, "--And I--"

Suddenly Luz was coughing severely, her face going red from lack of air.

"Luz?"

"What's wrong?!"

While coughing, Luz pointed at her throat.

"She's choking!" Viney deduced, "Hang on, I got this!"

She ran over and went behind Luz. Placing the thumb side of her fist over the human's abdomen and placing a hand over said fist, Viney began performing the Heimlich maneuver. After a few thrusts, Luz finally coughed out what was obstructing her throat. Once she could breathe again, she got a look at what nearly killed her. Only to see a clump of wet, green hair on the floor.

"...Is that--"

"Anyways, I'm gonna go ahead and change!" Luz squeaked quickly, grabbing her clothes off the desk and dashing into the closet. Viney and Emira looked over at Amity, who, red as a tomato, pulled the covers over her head.

Amity explaining why she likes Luz...which goes on for a good chunk of the chapter and it would be ludicrous for me to paste it onto here. But trust me. It’s a great moment

Chapter 7

Pastor Benson’s sermon and Luz’s prayor

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the world is constantly changing," Pastor Benson began his sermon. "For every day, new lifestyles and ways of loving others are introduced and integrated into our society. Just the other day, I was given a chance to experience this first hand."

That caught Luz's interest for a moment.

"You see, my nephew gathered the whole family, everybody that he trusted, and did something none of us could have ever expected. He told us all that he was a homosexual."

Immediately everybody started murmuring with each other. And Luz had to admit, she was more than curious to see where Benson was going with this.

"I know, I know," he silenced the crowd, "I was surprised too. And as he continued, both he and his boyfriend, which was another shock to find out, started telling us all about what it means to be what they are. They explained what they considered the basics, answered questions, and soon enough, Micheal's parents stood up to give him a hug, and everyone else took turns letting him know that he is loved."

Now Luz was really interested.

"Later, I took Micheal aside so I can have a heart to heart with him," Pastor Benson pressed on, "I said to him that he is my nephew and that I will always love him. And no matter what, God will love him too, like all of his children."

For the first time in her life, Luz hung onto every word that a pastor said.

"But sin is still a sin, and I said that it's not too late to save his soul."

'There it is,' Luz thought, slumping into her seat and hoping that her mom didn't notice her reaction. Pastor Benson continued his sermon, but Luz mentally checked out, not caring about what he has to say next. It didn't matter if Benson told the secrets to the universe or the meaning of life. Because of what he said, Luz tuned him out for the next few minutes, stirring in a pissed-off mood she genuinely tried to keep out of church.

"--Now, I would ask you all to join me in prayer before we bring this congregation to a close," Luz heard Pastor Benson say fifteen minutes later. Everyone then simultaneously lowered their heads to pray, with Luz right along with them.

'Dear God,' she prayed, 'If you could be so kind, could you send down an angel or your son or something to tell all these homophobes that being gay isn't a sin. And the only reason why people think that's true is that some dickhead mistranslated a line somewhere. A translation, by the way, that was meant to tell people that pedophilia is awful. Something that some of your own pastors should learn from time to time.

'Because if you could send someone down to get the record straight, I, and many others, would really appreciate it...also sorry for swearing while during prayer. That wasn't cool of me. Bless my mom, and praise be to you.'

Camila and Claire

"If you ask me, that was crossing way over the line."

Camila looked over to her friend Claire, who stood with her as they waited in line at a makeshift buffet table to grab breakfast.

"Are you talking about Pastor Benson or his nephew?" Camila couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, absolutely, it's Benson," Claire whispered so as not to draw attention amongst the chatter, "I mean, here you have a kid who was in a safe space and just wanted to be accepted, only to have your uncle basically say you're going to hell. The man might as well have punched poor Micheal in the gut."

"Aye, I am so happy that you said that," Camila grabbed two plates for herself and Luz, who sat at a table for them. "I understand that he's a person of the lord, but that's taking belief a little too far. I believe in God, and I love him with my whole heart, but I would never say anything like that to Luz. If she was gay, that is."

"I'm right there with you," Claire nodded as she piled food onto her own two plates, "I have five kids. Two of them moved out with relationships of their own. But if my other three ever come to me and say that they're gay, then the last thing I'd do is make them feel ashamed of it."

"Right? I always make it clear to Luz that she can tell me anything. Especially if it's something like that."

Mrs. Kranstien calling Camila a gringa

"As I said, keep an eye on her. For both of your sakes," the gossiper said as she turned to walk in her own direction, "Adios, gringa."

Camila did a double-take.

'Did she just...No,' she shook her head, 'No. She couldn't have.'

Amity’s reaction

"...So we're just going to be spending some time waiting...alone...in a big house with nobody else around?"

"...Basically, yeah," Luz shrugged, "See you then. Oh! By the way, and I know it goes without saying, but try to do something that hides those ears. Because the last thing I need to do is explain why my new friend looks like an elf from Lord of the Rings."

With that, Luz hung up, leaving Amity to sit still as a statue at her desk. Eventually, she slowly dragged her diary over, picked up a pencil, and began to calmly write.

So Luz, literally right now, just asked me to come over to hang out at her house, completely unsupervised, as we wait to have dinner with her mom. Current mood: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Chapter 8

Boscha’s rage

"You little jackass!"

Luz turned away from her locker to see Boscha stomping over. It was the end of the school day, and Luz was already beyond stressed about having Amity over to her house. The last thing that anyone needs, least of all her, is to deal with Boscha's bullshit.

"Little?" Luz said with an annoyed tilt to her head. "Bitch, I am absolutely taller than you!"

"Not the point!" Boscha yelled once she finally got up to Luz, "Because here's the thing: You draw on my face, I'll be annoyed. You rip my scroll in half, I'll be pissed off. But make people think I have a crush on FUCKING, Matt!? That is something I should kill you for!"

"...I didn't draw on your face."

"YOU--" But Boscha stopped herself to take a deep, calming breath before looking back at Luz with murder in her eyes, "That slimy, greasy, weasely little weasel has been hitting on me ALL DAY! And it's all because of you posting on social media that I like him. I mean, what the FUCK did I do to deserve that?!"

"...Do you really want me to answer that?"

Misunderstanding

"Hey."

Hesitantly, Amity glanced over at Luz again. Who had put her full attention into the girl in front of her.

"Do you wanna make out?"

"WHAT?!"

Luz jumped at Amity's screech.

"...I said, ‘do you want take out?’" she repeated, lifting up her phone, "My mom just said she's going to be a while and isn't in a cooking mood. So she wants to know if you're cool if she picks up some chimichurri sandwiches on the way home."

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, that's fine," Amity could feel her face grow hotter by the second.

"Ok?" Luz texted a reply to her mom, "...What did you think I said, anyway?"

"..."

"It must have been something bad to make you react as if I called you the c-word."

"...So this movie is interesting!" Suddenly, all Amity's attention went to the tee-vee, "My favorite character would have to be that, uh, that girl with the...dyed hair and...giant hammer--What did you say this movie is called again?"

Luz opened her mouth to say something, but a small ping! from her phone distracted her for a bit.

"My mom wants to know if you have any allergies," she said.

"I do not."

"Got it," Luz sent her reply, "Now, as for what you thought I said--"

"Table it for later."

'So I can have time to think of a proper excuse.'

"...Alright."

Luz went back to watching the movie for another minute, looked at her wrist for some reason, and then stared right back at Amity.

"It's now later."

"Luz--"

"Look, if it's something embarrassing, don't worry about it," Luz waved off her friend's concern, "Your brain just misinterpreted what I said. It's no big deal. I'm just wondering what you thought I asked that got you all hot and bothered."

'She called me hot--FOCUS!'

"You really won't judge?" Amity asked for clarification.

"Can't be any more embarrassing than what I did on Saturday."

'I guess that's true.'

"Well," Amity nervously fiddled with the hem of her dress, "I thought that...that you asked if...I wanted to...make...out..."

She glanced over, and, sure enough, a blush was beginning to form on Luz's cheeks.

"...Oh," the human said.

"But it's like you said!" Amity quickly exclaimed, "My brain just misinterpreted the words! It's not like you would ever ask me to do that, right?"

"...Of course not."

"...You hesitated?"

"Hm?"

"I said that you would never ask me to do that, and you hesitated when saying no. Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

"Pretty sure I didn't."

"Well, I'm definitely sure that you did."

"Well, if I did, then that's because, um..."

"...Because, um, what?"

"..."

"...So this movie, huh?" Luz looked back at the screen, "It's, uh, Scott Pilgrim, by the way. Just to answer your question...from earlier...about what movie this is..."

And thus came the thickest, most awkward silence between them. Understandably enough, Luz now had no problems with sitting as far away from Amity as possible.

"...How long until your mom gets home, again?"

"Should be another two hours."

"Damn it."

"Yeah."

Baby pictures

"Actually, I do have a photo of that day in an album somewhere," Camila added, "I could go find it and prove to you how innocent Luz was."

Now Luz's face went pale as Amity's brightened with glee.

"No, she doesn't!"

"Yes, I do!"

The poor human glared at the rich girl.

"No. You don't."

"Yes. I do."

"Right then," Camila finished her sandwich and got out of her seat, "You two sit tight. I'm going to go find that album."

Once her mother was out of the room, Luz scooched over to Amity with murder in her eyes.

"I would like to point out that you still owe me, like, five more favors from what happened last Friday," she whispered-growled, "So I would like to cash in one of them for you to not look at my baby pictures."

"And I would like to point out that you saw me at my lowest last Friday," Amity said with a smarmy smile, "Which means I'm at least owed some middle ground."

"...I hate you."

"Sure you do."

Gravity Falls reference

'There's that weird feeling again,' she thought as a tingling sensation formed throughout her gut. It wasn't the first time that day when Luz felt this.

She felt it when seeing Amity's human ears, when Amity admitted that she always wanted to be friendly, and especially when Amity thought Luz wanted to make out.

'...Wait...do I--'

Luz shook her head.

"No, no, no no no," she said to herself, "There's no way. There's just no way! I'm sure this is just some...indirect way of Boscha's words getting to your brain."

Luz turned around to go back inside.

"By tomorrow, you'll laugh about how ridiculous a thought like that is."

At Midnight.

Ever since turning in at nine, Luz could not for the life of her go to sleep.

Why?

Because her head was filled with nothing but thoughts of golden eyes, wild green hair, and a smirk that became all the more attractive, the more she thought about it.

"...Goddammit."

Chapter 9

Skara’s advice

"In that case, as her best friend, I have to tell that she will destroy you."

"Whatever."

"And as her best friend, I probably shouldn't tell you to go for any of her weak spots."

"..." Luz shared a curious look with Gus and Willow, who shrugged. "What weak spots?"

"Well, as her best friend, I shouldn't tell you that Boscha suffered a lot of injuries from playing grudgby," Skara explained, "Like the fact that her right arm hasn't healed right and she prefers punching with her left. Or the fact that she's still recovering from breaking her left leg and that if you kick the back of it hard enough, she'll crumble."

"...It's too bad that you didn't say any of that," Luz played along, "Because that would all be incredibly useful. And I would have to ask why you would tell me that in the first place."

"Hypothetically speaking, if I did tell you all of that--which I didn't--it would probably be because I'm still a little mad that she destroyed my house for the sake of getting Amity back. And that I'm just as sick as you are that Boscha wastes so much time trying to win back a girl that is clearly not interested."

"In that case, I really hate that you didn't tell me any of that stuff. Because then I would have thanked you for the advice."

"And I would have said, 'You're welcome,'" Skara looked left, right, and hugged Luz for a fraction of a second to then scamper off to who knows where.

The first hit

"Uh-huh...I don't know what that means, so here's a question: What happens when I break that oath?"

"Oh, trust me, you won't break it. Now, are you ready to eat dirt, human?"

"Born ready," Luz said, regaining her confidence, "In fact, you can have the first punch."

Boscha raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You sure you want that?"

"Of course. That is unless you're too scared of breaking a nail--"

SMACK!

The entire stadium went 'Ooooh,' due to Boscha sucker-punching Luz so hard that the human immediately went down and into the dirt. Needless to say, Luz was very much awake now.

"JESUS CHRIST!" She shouted as she slowly stood up, nursing the now bruising cheek that Boscha hit. "What the shit do they feed you rich girls?! Also, what happened to no hitting the face?! That was my face! You said no hitting the face!"

"Oh, no, I meant my face," Boscha reiterated, "My face is off-limits. Yours is free real estate."

Adrenaline rush

While Boscha was distracted by that, Luz looked over at her own friends.

Willow scowled with her fists clenched, looking like she was about ready to jump in to kick Boscha's ass for Luz.

Gus was cheering for Luz to get up. At least, she thinks that's what he was doing. A sudden ringing in Luz's ear currently made it hard to decipher what anybody was saying if they weren't close enough.

And then there was Amity, who held Luz's jacket tight to her heart, eyes wide and complexion pale.

That's when it hit Luz: If she loses, she'll be forced by some magic bullshit to never see Amity again. All these weeks of getting close and building...whatever the hell their relationship is building towards would have been for nothing. Worse yet, Amity will be left with Boscha, who would treat the green-haired witch with as much dignity and respect as Boscha treats her friends.

It was the mix of fear and anger from that thought that gave Luz just enough adrenaline she needed to turn towards Boscha and kicked her hard in the left leg.

Goodnight

"Cool. Hey, mom?"

"Yes, mija?"

"If a person asks you to have lunch with them, just the two of you, what would you think that means?"

"I assume that means a person wants to date you."

"Cool. Anyways, I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight."

"You’re what?"

THWUMP!

Startled by the noise, Camila turned around to see that Luz had fallen face-first onto the living room floor.

"...Luz?"

"Hm?" Luz mumbled.

"Are you ok?"

"Mm-hm."

Chapter 10

Earmuffs

"Hi, Luz! Question: Me being a male cheerleader. Yay or nay?"

"I think it's absolutely a 'yay,' but we can talk about that later," Luz said as she sat down, "For right now: Earmuffs."

"Aw, what?" Gus whined, "C'mon!"

"No complaining. Earmuffs."

"But I'm younger than you two by two years. I can totally handle grown-up talk."

"Earmuffs!"

Gus groaned, reluctantly covering his ears, closing his eyes, and humming to himself to further block out any noise.

Assumptions

"I don't give a shit that you're dating her." Willow said plainly.

"You see--Wha-wha-wha-wha-What? What? I'm sorry, what? Just...Fucking what?!" Luz exclaimed, completely caught off guard.

"Hey, don't get me wrong," Willow continued, "I would much rather see you date almost anybody else in this school. But if--for whatever reason--Amity is the person you really want to be with, I won't say anything about it. The heart wants what the heart wants. Who am I to judge?"

"...We're not dating."

Willow blinked.

"You're not?"

"No."

"...You're not?!"

Spray Bottle

Then suddenly, bits of water started spritzing onto her face. Looking over, Amity saw that it was because Viney was using a spray bottle on her.

"Bad," she said between spritzes, "Bad Blight."

"What the hell?!" Amity hissed, "Why do you even have that?!"

"I take Beast Keeping," Viney explained as she pocketed her spray bottle, "It comes in handy, so I just keep it on me at all times. Now, back to your dumbassery..."

"Hey, try to look at this from my point of view, alright?" the younger witch growled, "You never had to deal with Luz and her dumb smirk or her...cute round ears and those...those gorgeous brown eyes that are so warm and soft and make you feel all ooey-gooey like a warm chocolate cookie and--"

Viney started spritzing Amity again.

"GAH! Sorry," Amity said, snapping out of it.

And that’s about it. Thank you all so much for reading this story for this long, and a very special thank you to @drabbles-of-writing for letting me write this story in the first place. Now if you don’t excuse me, I’ve got school shit to work on.

#the owl house #beta lumity #it all started with a jacket #cw: swearing

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acircusfullofdemons · 3 years

Text

MAD AS A CROW: PARACOSM INTRO

[PICREW LINK]

So! I've mentioned it, briefly, that I have a new fandom paracosm. Or, I guess a fandom-based paracosm?? It's still a bit sandboxy tbh. But anyway, since the plot is a Mess[TM] rn I think I'll just talk about the paras :> you can probably tell where they're from but just in case, here's the fandom wiki link.

I know everyone here is a Villain / Serial Killer, BUT! in my paracosm they're either (a) a lot more goofy / less serious or (b) literal fucking children. Most of the time it's the latter, with them being teens / (young) adults whilst they look on in horror at their (fully) adult counterparts lmao. They're not a large group but despite how much they 'claim' to hate each other (especially Jonathan), they truly consider each other their family <3

(Other rouges sometimes show up, too, but idc enough about them to consider them paras or even develop them outside of a small daydream cameo)

TOP ROW [aka Main Paras]

Jervis [🎩]: A spacey but well meaning boy that can get caught up in his own head sometimes. He honestly doesn't do much other than daydream, talk to Jonny, try to hypnotize / mind control people, bake, and write/draw. Though he doesn't do much in terms of villainy, the other rouges have an unspoken agreement to put aside their grudges whenever he invites them to a tea party.

Jonathan [🕷]: What I like to describe as "what happens when a type 6 on the enneagram snaps" but I don't think many will get that, so. He's obsessed with horror movies and enjoys scaring his friends (especially Eddie, with the exception being Jervis). Claims he isn't that brave & hates physical contact, but he's always the one his friends turn to when they're feeling a bit too paranoid or need an impromptu pillow. No matter what age he is, he's always gonna be an Old Man who just wants to feed his Crows & see his bf (Jervis) happy.

Eddie [🧩]: Annoyingly obsessed with puzzles, riddles, and being the smartest, good-looking bitch in the room. Self-proclaimed best friend of Jonathan. Is on literally every single piece of social media and is constantly bugging his friends to do the same. A smug know-it-all, but he's the rouge's smug know-it-all.

MIDDLE ROW [aka Secondary Paras]

Harley [🪅]: Overall just one goofy gal lookin’ for laughs (and some flowers for her lovely girlfriend [aka Pam]!)...at least, that’s what she tells the police. Arthur's best friend & 'right hand' in terms of how their little team / group works. Avoids using her briancells unless she's around Jonny, whenever they're together they start to psychoanalyze everyone else, yes that includes each other.

Pam [🥀]: Cottagecore lesbian who loves plants and seeing her girlfriend (aka Harley) smile. Will beat the shit out of you if you so much as step on a flower. Jonathan's second best friend (sometimes first depending on how annoying Eddie is). General "Mom Friend" of the group, because someone fucking has to be & Selina is only here so often.

Selina [🐈‍⬛]: A shy girl with an an affinity for cats and stealing shiny objects. Doesn't hang out with the rouges too much on account of them being a tad too crazy for her tastes and the fact that her boyfriend is the city's hero.

BOTTOM ROW [aka Tertiary / Less Frequent Paras]

Ozzy [🐧]: Rich bitch with ties to the mafia, but you needn't worry about that, he's got a party to throw! Probably for his boyfriend (aka Eddie) so he'll shut up about being attention starved. More than willing to pay for his friend's expenses (with a small fee, of course). Bonds with Jonny over their love for birds.

Artie [🃏]: Clown man who tells terrible jokes that only Harley & Jervis are nice enough to laugh at. A very Big Mess, hard to handle, overall considered a little 'too much' all the time; and yet all the rouges still consider him their 'leader' of sorts. Well, they all listen to him the most, so that probably makes him their leader, right? That's what he keeps telling himself. Also has a crush on Bruce (Selina's bf) & is constantly flirting with him so they can break up.

Ronnie [an original para]: One of the security guards at Ark Asylum (where the rouges go when they've been captured by Bruce). Considered one of the 'Cool Guards' as he lets the rouges get away with maybe a little more than they should, but so long as they don't get into any fights he's pretty much chill with whatever, albeit a little tired of their odd shenanigans. Also possibly works for Ozzy in secret.

#paraportal #picrew #console: mad as a crow #🎩 para #🕷 para #🧩 para #🪅 para #🐈‍⬛ para #�� para #🐧 para #🃏 para #ronnie #characterizations might be a bit off but! idc. my city now >::3 #whenever jon is at ark he looks @ ronnie like jim looks @ the camera on the office whenever Something Happens.#harley also usually wears her hair in pigtails / buns. its only down when @ ark or on a rainy/sick day.#anyway jervis is my fav. him & jonny are soulmates send tweet.#will probably make a different post abt them separately bc WOW theyre In Love <3 #side note: its called Mad As a Crow bc jervis & jonny are the Main Characters. jervis is obsessed w alice in Wonderland #whilst jonny likes / is followed around by crows a lot.#these all look pretty accurate. my only complaint is that arties hair should be green. but ig it could be before he dyed it / snapped 🤷

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ofclaires · 3 years

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IV. CLAIRE WALSH

PAST SELF PARAS: april 2020 / september 2020 / march 2021.

hi, before the read more i just wanted to say THANK YOU. getting to play claire has been absolutely a treat, a challenge, and genuinely, a huge part of my life for the past year and a half or so. it occurred to me when writing this and looking back at other things i’ve written for claire that i didn’t just feel like i was writing this for myself or for claire ; but i was writing it for you guys, too ! that has been one of the most special things about gallagher for me is the writing community that i feel like we built, taking such a huge investment in our characters and everyone else’s writing. i feel like i’m writing with and for some of my best friends. i also feel like i’ve grown so much ( ok, i actually don’t just feel like it, i can look back at those three paras and SEE how my writing has improved. ) i am so blessed to have gotten to write claire with all of you and to share her story, i feel like she has been so fucking beloved & it’s given her so much life. i am so proud of her and it’s really bittersweet that i’m finally saying goodbye to her as well. so, thank you all so, so much, gallagher has been a writing experience like no other for me & i love you all !

trigger warnings : domestic violence & abuse, death

PART ONE: CHILDHOOD.

The trailer that Claire spent the back half of her childhood in never felt like home. Maybe because trailers are made to be temporary, or the fact that if she accepted that this was where she belonged, she’d have to give up hope.

It’s normal Maggie Walsh to be out late, Claire’s usually cleaned up the kitchen and tucked herself into bed by the time her mother comes in the door – but she’s not sleeping. She’s always had trouble with that, brain bouncing around from one thought to the next until eventually she hears the creak of the door.

Her mom’s home.

She hears the usual stumbling, the clatter of dishes falling from where she’d neatly placed them on the drying rack. Maggie’s drunk, Claire’s sure of that. Ten years old and she knows what it means to be so drunk that you can hardly see straight, that the words you say under the influence are a different reflection from the person that you really are. She inhales deeply and crawls out from under the covers to check on her. Ten years old and she knows the steps: Help her take her makeup off, make sure she sleeps on her side, glass of water on the bedside table, trash can on the floor. Maggie is only twenty-six years old herself now, not done with her childhood by the time that Claire was born, not ready to be a mother. Claire’s had to figure it out most of it herself.

“Mom?�� Claire knocks on the door lightly, plastic cup full of water already in hand.

“Don’t – don’t come in!” Maggie sputters, and Claire’s confused. She defies her request and opens the bedroom door the rest of the way. When she sees her mom, she drops the cup on the floor, small hands curling into fists.

“What happened? Who did that to you?”

“I told you not to come in here, Claire,” Maggie repeats, but Claire has always been on to disregard commands. She learns at a young age that authority only means older than you or some assigned title, not that they know best.

“Who did that? Why?” She repeats her questions. Despite being mature for her age, it’s hard for Claire to wrap her head around the black eye obscuring Maggie’s face, and the swelling on her cheek.

“It doesn’t matter,” Maggie sighs, dejected as she flops down on the bed. Even in her state, she knows that there’s not much use telling Claire to back off or go away once she’s decided that she’s not going to. Her little girl is a spitfire, strangely enough reminds Maggie a lot of her own mom, like living with a miniature version of her. Maybe that’s why Claire wins most arguments. “Come here.”

Claire walks closer to the bed, kicking the cup aside on her way for no reason other than to kick something. She crawls into bed next to her mom and looks up at her, waiting for more of an explanation or literally anything but silence.

“I don’t know why I keep looking for a happy ending. I leave you home alone, I come home like this...not helping either of us,” Maggie presses a kiss to the top of Claire’s head, runs her fingers through her daughter’s hair. It’s so soft and Claire is so little, she can’t help but look at the spilled cup on the floor with a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry,” she adds, voice choked up and words a little slurred. Tears squeeze out of the corners of her eyes when she closes them, hugging her daughter closer, “I’ve blamed you for my fucked up life for so long...that’s not fair.”

Now, Claire is only ten, but those are the kind of words that you remember forever. Still, she smiles. “It doesn’t have to stay fucked up. It can get better,” a childish spark of optimism in her heart that hasn’t yet been put out. It makes Maggie smile back though, kissing her daughter on the top of her head yet again.

“I like that,” she says, and they fall asleep curled up beside each other. Claire sleeps soundly, thinking that it’s possible. Things really could get better, and for a while, it seems like there really is a sort of shift. Maggie starts cooking, cleaning again, and she doesn’t even stay out so late. That’s when she meets Martin.

He seems better than the rest. Until he isn’t.

But Claire does her job as her mother’s protector, just as she’s been doing all of her life, and it’s that event that jumpstarts the rest of everything that happens next.

PART TWO: GRADUATION.

Claire’s come to the formal conclusion that graduation ceremonies are a waste of time. There’s all this build up, everyone’s so excited, and then you have to sit around and wait for your name to be called so you can spend two seconds walking across a stage while everyone claps. She would have skipped it entirely if her mother hadn’t already come up, and if she knew that people were going to insist. The small talk afterward is even more agonizing than the ceremony itself. It is sort of painful saying goodbye to everyone, and it occurs to Claire that there’s more people that she’s going to miss than she ever expected.

“Callum and his mother are here,” Maggie points out.

“And?” Claire rolls her eyes. Seeing Callum again to begin with had brought up a lot of old feelings, and generally, even though they’d resolved things, she tries to avoid him whenever possible.

“Well, it’s probably weird if we don’t say hello, at least, right? I’m going to say hello,” Maggie interjects, “he’s such a sweet boy.”

Claire’s eyebrows rise on her forehead as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Go ahead then,” she sighs, “I’ll wait right here.”

“Claire,” Maggie draws out her name with a withering stare, but Maggie has never been able to establish that sort of authority with Claire that would prompt any inclination of obedience, so Claire just shrugs her shoulders, unimpressed. She’s not going to budge. “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

Claire’s done her best to put the chapter of their life that includes Martin out of her mind when rekindling things with her mother, and she certainly doesn’t want to stand around making small talk with his other ex-wife, trying not to look at Callum with his matching jawline, trying not to remember everything she hates. It all comes back in a flash. The horrible cracking sound that her mother’s head had made when it connected with the wall, the blood on the marble floor. They say you don’t remember trauma properly, that your memory doesn’t work quite right, but she will never forget the way her fist connected with Martin’s face : like a puzzle piece, like it BELONGED there, and she’d done it over and over again until she heard sirens.

And yet, Claire can’t deny that it’s a part of her life that got her here, where she is today. She thinks life is shitty and random, and that not everything has to happen ‘for a reason.’ Still, she’ll catch Kass’s eye across the room and see her smiling so brightly that it seems impossible not to believe in something. Claire can’t help herself anyway – she smiles back. No one has ever been able to produce Claire’s smile in its truest form the way Kass has, unashamed of being so happy to look at someone. She once thought the idea of looking at a person and seeing your whole future was ridiculous, that you’d have to be stupid to put that much of yourself into someone, but it isn’t like that at all. All of it was unintentional, like by the time she realized it, Kass was already everything. And she feels so safe with that thought that she doesn’t mind at all.

“Am I interrupting something?” A figure steps in front of her, cutting off her line of sight. She’s not really fond of being snuck up on, so she opens her mouth to say something snarky when she’s met with the gaze of Lisanna Harlin, one of last year’s mentors. Her daughter, Elisa, is there, but she’s not graduating, so Claire’s confused by Lisanna’s presence.

“No, Ms. Harlin,” Claire says, though there’s a spark of indignation in her words that practically goes hand in hand whenever an adult commands authority.

“Lisanna is fine,” she says with a light laugh, like she’s amused Claire’s greeted her this way.

“Can I...help you with something?” Claire asks, mostly curious about how long this interaction has gone on. While she’s friendly with Elisa, she was Kass’s roommate last year, they’re not exceedingly close, so she’s not sure what else Lisanna would have to say to her other than maybe a polite hello.

It’s more than a polite hello. Lisanna Harlin works for Lexon Corp in Durham, North Carolina, a private military company that provides armed guards, bodyguards, and guns for hire. They’re the sort of place that would be looking for the best of the best in combat, and they have a bit of a reputation for hiring Gallagher girls. Claire had given up on the job search months ago since the video went out, in fact, she’s had a job lined up for graduation already : at a boxing gym in D.C., where the scene isn’t too bad. It was suited to her, but not exactly the sort of thing that her Gallagher education had prepared her for. Lexon Corp? Everything her rigorous love of January boot camps were tailored to. And they want to interview her.

A month later, Claire’s sitting on the cusp of a completely fresh start. It wasn’t easy to backtrack on the plans that she and Kass had made together, knowing how much was changing for the both of them, it had been nice to have the stable idea of an apartment together on the horizon. Now, she’s a four hour drive away, and she goes home to her one-bedroom studio in Durham after rigorous training throughout the day. But she’s grateful for the chance to work her way back into the field, and she can remember what Lisanna said to her when they gave her the offer.

“We’re aware that with your history that we’re taking a chance on you, Claire,” Lisanna said. “But we think the reasons that made other agencies look past you are exactly what makes you an asset. You care about your jobs, the people that you’re involved in, and you’d have a partner’s back until the bitter end. You listen to your intuition, trust your gut...and above all else, you have follow-through. I’m excited to be able to offer this position. Don’t prove me wrong.”

Claire swears that she won’t.

PART THREE: KIPTYN.

Kiptyn isn’t supposed to be in the left hall closet.

In fact, he’s not supposed to be awake at all. But who can sleep the night before their birthday anyway? Sure, he’ll be thirteen, and that’s probably old enough to have gotten over the magic of it all, but...he’d still been lying awake with excitement, the anticipation keeping his eyes open for hours on end. Well, that and the video game he’d been playing under the covers, but he’d obviously only been playing it because he couldn’t sleep in the first place.

Then he started thinking about the left hall closet and the conversation that they had at dinner the other night. In Kiptyn’s defense, Dahvia – his younger sister – had totally started it and he was an innocent bystander. After all, Kiptyn’s old enough to know that they don’t bring up Claire to mom, because it just puts her in a mood and then you can forget about doing anything else for the rest of the evening. But Dahvia’s ten, practically a baby, and she doesn’t know any better.

“Hey, mom? What sort of accident did Claire die in? Nina asked me at recess and I didn’t know,” Dahvia pipes up, before she’s even properly sat down. Kip visibly cringes. He’s older, wiser, knows this won’t go well. Still, he dares to look at his mom’s face and he notes the faraway look in her eye, like she seems to experience a bunch of things at once. Kip notices how even though her eyes are glassy, she doesn’t cry. Though sometimes, their mom will just cry randomly, like two weeks ago when he asked for help with his Spanish homework and she couldn’t even help him finish the first worksheet.

“It was a car accident,” she says stiffly, “eat your dinner.”

Kiptyn kicks his sister under the table and flashes her a look that says : Great. Look what you did, ruined dinner. Dahvia sticks her tongue out at him.

So, he knows that he’s not supposed to be in the left hall closet because he could ruin many more dinners, but he’s here anyway. He’s been thinking about it ever since they sat in silence for the rest of that half hour, and he’s come to the conclusion – his mother was lying. Because all sorts of things make their mother cry, like a bowl of mac and cheese or Spanish class, or motorcycles, and she won’t let Kiptyn take boxing lessons though his friend Robert is and he thought it sounded really cool, but she doesn’t have any problem with cars or driving, and also, she’s never told them a single thing about Claire except that. They aren’t allowed to know anything about her, especially not anything true, so Kiptyn is pretty sure that’s a lie. There’s just something just weird about it.

So, in the middle of the night before his thirteenth birthday, he looks up a video on how you pick locks and then he figures it out on the door of the left hall closet. He’s there for at least forty-five minutes, practically ready to give it all up when he hears the clicking sound, and then it opens. His first thought is : Woah. This is a load of junk.

And he’s right. There’s boxes upon boxes of paperwork, old clothes. Some things start to click, like when he finds a pair of worn boxing gloves with Claire’s initials embroidered on them. His favorite thing that he finds is the fattest scrapbook he’s ever seen – his mom always makes them, there’s one for every year of his life. Dahvia’s too, they love looking at them. The cover of this one, though, says Italy 2021. It’s all pictures of his mom and Claire, probably in their early twenties. Kiptyn mostly notices his mother’s smile, how he’s only seen her look like that a couple times in his life and yet it looks so EASY here, like she wears it all the time. It’s so strange to him. He sets the scrapbook down and crawls toward the back of the closet. His eyes land on two leather folders with gold embroidery, and he opens up the first one. In big letters at the top : GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

It’s a diploma.

This certifies that Kassandra Sutton has satisfactorily completed the…

“What are you doing?”

Kiptyn yells out like a child, not having heard anyone creeping up on him. He claps his hand over his mouth as if to shush himself. “The door was open! I don’t know how, but I just...noticed it was open and wanted to make sure that...no one was stealing your stuff!” he grins sheepishly, hoping that he can ride on the high of his birthday week to get him out of this one.

“It was just...open?” his mother looks down at him with raised eyebrows before brandishing a twisted paper clip between two fingers. The one that had formerly been stuck in the door. His guilty expression widens, he can’t help it.

“Okay, I might know how it opened,” Kiptyn admits. He hesitates for a moment, before he realizes that he’s ALREADY in trouble, he might as well just come out with it and pray to the birthday gods. He holds up the diploma with her name on it : “What’s Gallagher Academy?”

Kass’s sigh is heavy and deep, accompanied by the amount of exhaustion that comes with raising two curious kids by herself. After Claire died, she moved her family to London to be closer to their aunt and away from everything that reminded her of Claire. She never told her children why. From hiding that world from them, the world that took so many people from her : her father, her ex-girlfriend, and the love of her life. She swore that she would never lose her children to it, too. But Kiptyn looks up at her with wide eyes, desperate to know about his mother and his past, and Kass also knows what it’s like to have part of yourself missing due to family secrets that are being kept from you. He is practically a teenager now. So, she relents.

Kass doesn’t go into all of the details, of course. Just that Gallagher Academy was a school for spies, and that’s where it all started. Kiptyn already knew that his moms met in college, so it’s the spy part that’s most interesting to him. She talks about Claire with a light in her eyes he’s unfamiliar with, how she was one of the best fighters in their year, that she grew up with such a talent in the ring that she probably could’ve gone pro if her life had gone in a different direction. She talks about how they had to part ways after graduation, because Claire got a job in North Carolina and she got a job in Washington, DC, but they made it work, and both got very accustomed to the four hour drive – though it was sometimes closer to three for Claire, because she always drove too fast, even on this big, black motorcycle which Kass swears that she hated. She tells Kiptyn about how they got married, the way she’d almost moved to England for a dream job and that long distance threatened to drive them apart again – until Claire chased her down in the airport with a ring and proposal.

She also talks about how Claire really died : the abridged version. It was an overseas mission where they’d been cornered, and Claire risked her life to save the rest of their team. There were no other casualties, and the information they were able to bring back helped stop the terrorist organization they’d been chasing to end them for good. Kass tells the abridged version for her son, gives Claire a hero’s death. In some ways, it was. She doesn’t mention the ways that Claire was consumed by the case, it was an organization hellbent on killing spies and it likely reminded her of the brotherhood. Kass had been worried about the case the whole time, because it felt like Claire was taking it too personally. In the end, she may have been right : because Claire had let it take her life in order to close it. She also doesn’t mention that such a sacrificial death means that her wife died fighting alone, swinging her fists until her very last breath. But still, she was all alone.

She had no choice but to take her kids as far away from that life as possible.

Kiptyn tries, but he doesn’t really remember Claire. He’d only been three years old when she passed away, and before then, she’d been so consumed by her last case that she was barely present. Still, he thinks she sounds badass.

He falls asleep on his mother’s shoulder that night, looking through the scrapbook of pictures from their trip to Italy in 2021. He’s animated for the first part, pointing out buildings and asking questions, wonders if Claire was sweating in all that leather, but he slowly starts to drift off. He wakes up on the couch the next morning, no trace of the book or any of the other papers he’d hauled out of the closet the night before. He looks at the closet and there’s an extra padlock. Figures.

It comes up in little ways, like a private joke that he has with his mother, like she’ll say something and flash him a secretive smile. He likes that, and he understands that this is a big secret that he has to keep. It doesn’t come up again until his fourteenth birthday the next year, the summer before high school. It’s a strange letter in a manila envelope, sealed with some expensive red wax, his name written in fancy calligraphy. The most attention-grabbing part, however, is not Kiptyn Sutton-Walsh in big cursive letters. It’s the return address :

GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

learn her skills, honor her sword. keep her secrets.

#*#self para

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yankyo · 3 years

Text

Public

something I wrote for @realmonsterboyhours once upon a time, :)

warnings: tiefling Bajo, choking, public sex, or, more accurately hidden sex?? also cockwarming

His tail wrapped tight around her throat, claws scratching welts into her skin as he pulled her ever closer, warm breath blowing past her ear as he chuckled softly just taking in the sight of her in his lap.

“Shh, dulzura, you’ve got to be quiet or they’re going to notice.” He purred, his voice so sweet, as if he wasn’t tightening his tail’s grip on her throat and slowly shifting his hips so that his cock pressed incessantly at her cervix. Thankfully, her skirt covered them nicely and the cloak he had put around her shoulders hid his tail, but every time someone so much as glanced their way, she found herself fearing that they would know exactly what they were doing. Bajo wasn’t much of a help, groaning in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her to pull her back against him more firmly. “I hope someone does notice.” He murmured, “Hell, I should just take you up against the bar, let everyone here know that you’re mine.” She sucked in a whine at the thought, almost seeing it already. All those adventurers watching Bajo fuck her, the barflies that spent night after night trying to get into her pants forced to just sit there and watch as she came around Bajo’s cock, the insufferable prick making sure everyone heard just how good he was making her feel. “Heh. Knew you’d like that, mi dulce, can feel you squeezing around me just thinking about it.” His tail loosened around her neck, just enough to let her suck in greedy breaths of air before he rolled his hips, forcing her to bite her lip to keep from moaning aloud. “Oh I wish I could see how you look right now. Mira la forma en que tus mejillas se sonrojan y tus ojos giran hacia atrás. Ya has empapado mi polla, ¿cuánto quieres apostar que mis pantalones también están cubiertos en tu mancha? Solo espera, una vez que te consiga solo, voy a destrozar este dulce coño. Voy a follarte tan bien que no olvides a quién perteneces cuando tenga que partir para la próxima aventura.”

If this was what she was going to get every time he came back from his quests, she had absolutely no complaints. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him as such, he tightened his grip once more, cutting off her breath again. A hand slowly made its way under her skirt so he could tease her clit. Soft lips brushed up against her shoulder, a purr making its way up his chest as he nuzzled against her, looking the perfect picture of a lovelorn boyfriend snuggling against his love. She knew no one would think this was even the slightest bit strange, even before she had accepted his courting, Bajo had always been the cuddly sort and when she had finally given in. To the lovelorn tiefling’ s affection, that had only gotten worse. It became commonplace for Bajo to rush to the tavern the second he arrived in town to latch himself to Hax’s side, toting whatever trinkets he had won on his adventure. The thick gold chain dipping into her bosom, the jeweled clip in her hair, her rings, she was covered in the spoils of his trips and beneath all of that she was covered in the imprints of his fangs, his claws, bruises from where he gripped her just a hair too tightly. Not that she didn’t leave him without marks of his own, her nails have raked down his back, her own teeth drawing blood, sending him off with his own brand proving that he was hers. If she could turn around, she knew she would be clinging to him, trying to roll her hips and make him cry out. Whenever they got back to her room she knew she would be throwing him down onto the bed and straddling him, perhaps it was that thought that helped her keep her sanity as the time crawled past.

Some part of her zoned in and out of her surroundings, she knew that there where people walking to and fro, heard Bajo speak from behind her and tried to give decent effort to look as if she were paying attention, though each time she had tried to open her mouth, his tail would cut off her air and his fingers would vibrate against her clit just enough to make her thighs quiver and for her belly to tighten with approaching orgasm before everything cut off abruptly and his tail loosened for her to wheeze in a silent breath. In the end, she leaned back against him, giving the appearance of being asleep, just waiting for the sounds to slowly but surely filter out of the small bar. Who was even running the bar? Rachel? Cia’s arrival usually meant that her friend would be kept busy chattering to the lovelorn satyr. And probably snuck out the back to dote on him to make up for their lost time. Yan? She heard the musical lilt of the avariel’s voice distantly, the sweet voice of Kat responding as they joked around. Hax squirmed at the thought that her friends would look over and see her like this. How long had she been on Bajo’s lap? That had to have at least glanced over? Did they know? She burned at the thought, her skin flushing already as she thought of their teasing that was sure to come.

“What are you thinking about, dulzura? Open your eyes, look, just a little bit longer until they leave. hasta que te arroje sobre esta mesa y destruya este lindo coño. ¿Puedes sentir lo mojado que estás? ¿Sientes mi polla latir dentro de ti? No puedo esperar hasta que pueda follarte por completo.” She groaned softly, her head lolling back against his shoulder.

“Hate you.” She hissed, trying not to writhe against him as the fur on his tail slid against her skin, tickling under her chin.

“Mmm, I don't think so~” He snickered, his fingers circling her clit once more, “Can feel you squeeze around me, soaking through my pants,” His teeth were against her neck, so sharp it helped break through the fog, before the hot swipe of his tongue soothing the pain only made her sink right back into that fuzzy space. Suddenly, he was gathering up her skirt, pushing her up from his lap to lay out on the table, face down.

“Wh-what? Bajo! They’ll see -!” Her protest was cut short as he laced his fingers through her hair and yanked her head up to see... nothing, the bar was empty.

“They left about ten minutes ago? I told your friends you were feeling sleepy and that I was gonna let you take a nap before we went home.” He explained. When had that happened? He laughed at her confusion, even as his claws raked down her dress, ripping the fabric and leaving burning scratches in their wake. “I know, my little slut was too focused on my cock to think of anything else.” He crooned, his tone mocking, the stroke of his hand condescending. “It’s cute, all I have to do is,” He yanked her back in a savage thrust that forced a wail from her throat, “And your brain just shuts down for me, adorable.”

“Fuck you.” She managed to hiss out, all he did was dig those claws into her hips and purr,

“Currently doing that.” Smug bastard, she might’ve cursed him out if he wasn’t fucking her so rough and so fast she could hardly even breathe, much less think. She could distantly smell blood, could feel the hot wetness on her hips as his claws raked over her skin, could feel his breath on her neck as he loomed over her, feel his skin against hers, feel his cock someone still stretching her out despite how long she had been warming him. He growled above her, Spanish and filth dripping from his tongue, drool splattering down against her skin. “buena niña. Mi buena chica, apretando a mi alrededor tan fuerte. ¿Estás a punto de correrte, qué lindo? Vamos, corre en mi polla, no creas que voy a parar.” Something was pressing against her clit, his tail? Sliding through the mess he had made of her pussy to glide effortlessly against her clit, making her grind against him as she felt that pleasure finally tipping over. Even as she squeezed around him, even as she screamed out her ecstasy, he didn’t falter for a moment. Instead, feeling her cum around him only incensed him further, made his growls more animalistic as he held up her hips and fucked her harder. Her legs were limp below her, fuck her entire body was limp, easily maneuvered in his grasp as he fucked her like a toy. She noted distantly that she was screaming. His name perhaps? His tail was still against her clit, forcing her orgasm to continue for longer than was comfortable, pushing that pleasure to the brink of pain. His hand was on her throat, forcing her up so he could kiss sloppily up her neck, so he could bite her and growl violently in her ear. “Good girl, my good girl. Pretty kitten, cum for me again, just one more time, can you do that?” She was nodding, fuck, she would tell him anything he wanted as long as he didn’t fucking stop. His hand at her throat squeezed, blood dripping past where his teeth had sunk into her skin, his tail writhed and her world went white.

When she came to, she was laying against the table once more, the tiefling behind her crooning as he pet her hair and licked the blood from the wound. His cock was pulsing inside of her, still cumming even as she felt cum dripping past her thighs, felt the weight of it in her stomach. “Hey there, gatita. How you feeling?” She moaned in response, rising up on wobbly arms to glance back at her smug boyfriend.

“Fucked out.” He snickered, the sound low and threatening.

“Oh, precious, you really think we’re done?”

#Bajo #beetlejuice smut #the conglomerate #beetlejuice don au

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aerynwrites · 4 years

Text

The Devil You Know

Narco!Javier Peña x Reader AU

Part 1 - The Stranger

Author’s Note: So I’ve had this idea for a small series in my head for a while now and my friends have helped encourage me to post it, so here we are! I hope you guys enjoy, and thank you to my friends who showered me with kind words and encouragment! (You know who you are and i love you) All spanish translations are located at the bottom of the post. I also do not speak Spanish, I used spanishdict.com to translate for me so I hope they are accurate.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and guns.

Summary: You had been waiting for a break - that one case in the DEA that would give you a chance to really make a difference. So, when you are tasked with taking down a large but highly secretive and underground drug cartel, you jump on it - despite lacking the information on who runs the operation. Then...you meet a stranger in a bar.

Next Part | Masterlist

/////

You can’t help the excited smile that creeps onto your face as you leave the Ambassadors office and return to the two conjoined desks you and your partner shared. Ambassador Noonan had just informed you that you and Steve were to lead the team tasked with taking down a local but growing drug cartel located right here in Bogotá. The Los Carnales Cartel had started out small and then boomed, becoming one of the fastest-growing drug cartels in the country. The only problem was that they seemed to have come out of the woodworks, and they were experts at keeping their operations underground. The DEA had little to no information on any of the key players except for a few sicarios on the bottom.

But it was a start.

The start you had been waiting for since you had been transferred to Colombia almost six months ago. Soon after you had arrived your partner, Steve Murphy, had landed as well, and you had almost immediately bonded. You both worked together seamlessly through the various small drug busts you were assigned, but you had both been yearning for something more – something bigger. And it had finally happened.

You plopped down in your seat and looked expectantly at Steve who only gave you a sparing glance and gestured to the phone held between his ear and shoulder. You rolled your eyes and pulled the phone from his grip dropping it onto the receiver.

“What the hell-“ he spluttered, surprised by your sudden theft of his phone, “That was an important call!” he huffed.

“Oh hush,” you tutted, “I have news that is more important than any phone call you’ll ever receive,” you say happily, clasping your hands together and resting your chin atop them.

Steve sighed, running a hand down his face, “And what news would that be?”

“Ambassador Noonan wants us to lead the task force to take down Los Carnales!” you exclaim, tossing one of the two folders on your desk to your partner.

His eyes widen and he rips the folder open skimming through the files, “You’re serious?” he asks breathlessly, looking at you with caution.

You nod enthusiastically, “Yes! We start tomorrow, the Ambassador wants us to read over the files tonight and come in tomorrow ready to take these bastards down,” you say triumphantly.

Steve lets out a soft laugh and leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, “I knew we would get something like this sooner or later.”

You just smiled and nodded, “I’m just glad it finally happened,” you begin, “I know we were doing important work already, but I wanted to get to the root of the problem, really make a difference, you know?” you say wistfully, taking the file and tucking it away in your purse before standing.

Steve furrows his brows, “Where are you off too in a hurry?”

You tap your watch, “Day’s over Murphy,” you say, “And I have a date with destiny,” you joke gesturing to the file in your bag, “Well, and a glass of whiskey to celebrate.”

Your partner just laughs and stands with you as you grab your gun from your desk drawer and tuck it into the holster on your side before slipping your jacket on. Steve bids you goodbye and you do the same before walking to your car to head home.

-----

You hadn’t spent long in your apartment, only enough time to read through the files the Ambassador had given you and for the disappointment to slowly build within your mind. You had read through the files almost three times, only to be disheartened by how little was actually there. You knew you didn’t have a lot of information about the cartel, but to actually see how little you had? It was disheartening. You only had two names for sure, and they were a low-level Sicario and a local drug runner who had been seen frequenting local bars and clubs.

You suppose you had to start somewhere.

You let out an exasperated sigh and closed the file before glancing at your watch. Eight o’clock wasn’t too late to go get a drink right? Plus, it was a night to celebrate – at least that’s what you told yourself as you grabbed your purse from the counter and walked out of your apartment and onto the streets of Bogotá. You and Steve had frequented a bar just down the street from your apartment, usually just stopping in for a drink after work or meeting Steve’s wife Connie there for just a night to catch up and not think about work. So you knew the path to the small hole in the wall dive and you were there within ten minutes. You walked towards the door and saw Carlos, a local kid who was always outside the bar selling that days newspaper and the fruits his family grew. You saw him starting to pack up for the night and called out to get his attention.

¡Oye, Carlos! Espera un momento!” you called, smiling as the boy startled slightly before realizing it was you and waving excitedly.

“Hola señorita (y/n), ¿cómo estás?” the small boy asks, ginning at you widely.

You chuckle, “Lo estoy haciendo bien Carlos, espero que lo estés haciendo bien. ¿Es demasiado tarde para comprar un periódico?”

The young boy just shakes his head and pulls the local newspaper from his bag handing it to you. You take it from him and thank him before paying him, slipping in a bit extra. The boy just smiles up at you and you just put a finger of your lips and wink.

“Muchas gracias señorita!”

You give him a smile as you step by him to enter the bar but turn back to him as he gets onto his bicycle, “No hay problema Carlos, ten cuidado” you said and waved him off before finally entering the building.

The bartender gave you a small wave as you walked in, already pouring you a glass of whiskey and setting it in front of you as sat down at the bar. You gave him a small smile and a thank you before settling into your seat and laying the newspaper on the bartop in front of you. You took the glass of dark amber liquid in your hand and took a small sip, relishing in the familiar burn as you swallowed before setting the glass down again. You casually cast a glance around the small bar, a habit you had picked up since becoming an agent - always be aware of your surroundings.

For the most part, it was the usual crows of regulars, but the one thing that did catch your eye was the small group of men sitting at the table in the corner. You had built rapport with the people in this small part of town, and you knew a lot of them by name, their routines never changing. But as you sat here now, eyes glancing over the small troop, you realized they all looked unfamiliar. And the one thing that stuck out to you most were the guns on their hips.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew there were more gangs, cartels, and drug lords here than anywhere you had worked before, so guns weren’t unusual - but it still made your anxiety spike slightly. Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you turned your eyes back to the newspaper in front of you, trying to see if there was any news that may be relevant to your job, and continued to nurse your drink. You had barely gotten halfway down the front page when you felt a presence fill the seat to your left. Without moving your head you cast a short glance to see a man with dark hair in a dark rust-colored shirt flagging the bartender down. You turned your eyes back to the paper in front of you, trying to focus on that, until the man next to you spoke up.

“What are you having?” his deep baritone reached your ears and caused you to tear your eyes from the paper and look at him fully.

The first thing that crossed your mind was that he was handsome - dark hair, dark eyes, a mustache that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but seemed to suit him well, and a charming smile. However, this initial observation was followed quickly by annoyance that you couldn’t just drink and read in peace.

When you didn’t answer right away, the man gestured to your empty glass, “Your drink,” he clarified, as if you didn’t understand.

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes and instead turned to look back at your newspaper, “I heard you,” you bite, “I’m not interested.”

The man lets out a low chuckle and you try to ignore the feeling it ignited within your chest, “I didn’t ask if you out-” he says, a glint in his eye, “I asked what you were drinking.”

You sigh, eyes still not leaving the newspaper, “Whiskey,” you mutter, “Why are you so intrigued by my drink choice?”

The man doesn’t answer, he only hums quietly before letting out a short whistle, waving the bartender over, “¿puedo conseguir dos whiskys? uno para mí y otro para la dama,” the man says gesturing to you at the end of his sentence.

You let out a huff and finally tear your eyes from the newspaper to rest on the man to your left, “what part of ‘not interested’ did you not understand?”

All the man does is smirk at you, “You know Spanish?” he asks teasingly.

You don’t fight the urge to roll your eyes this time, “yes, I know how to know Spanish. It would be pretty hard to get around without it.”

The man just chuckles, his eyes falling from you to the bartender as he sets your drinks down. The man just offers him a wave before sliding your drink to you. You look at it cautiously, not moving to take the drink and instead stare at him as he takes a small sip from his before setting it back down.

��Listen, I’m not here to kidnap you or whatever it is you think I’m here to do,” he begins, a slight genuineness behind his words as he continues, “Just want to make conversation.”

You scoff, “I highly doubt that.”

“I’ll prove it too you,” he says as if offering you a deal, “What brings you here?” he begins tentatively.

You purse your lips, still unsure of whether or not you wanted anything to do with the handsome stranger before finally letting out a small sigh, hand moving to wrap around the glass of alcohol. At least you get a free drink out of it.

“I got a...promotion at work,” you say slowly, not telling the whole truth, “so I’m out celebrating.”

The man hums again before giving you a smile and rasing his glass, “felicitaciones en su promoción!”

You let out a small chuckle and tap your glass to his before taking a large sip, “gracias,” you say softly.

A smirk creeps onto the mans face, “you should speak Spanish more...it suits you..” he trails off waiting for you to fill in with your name.

You can’t help the blush that blooms on your cheeks and you clear your throat slightly, “u-uh yeah, thanks I guess,” you mutter lowly before sticking your hand out to him, “my name’s (y/n).”

He smiles and shakes your hand before withdrawing and taking another sip from his drink, his eyes trailing up and down your figure. You swallow thickly and shift in your seat before speaking up once more, “Do I get the pleasure of knowing the name of the guy who’s paying for my drink?” you ask, watching as he turns the glass on the counter slowly before opening his mouth to respond.

-------

Javier Peña had built a name for himself here in Bogotá.

He hadn’t come from much, his parents born in Colombia but then moving to the states for a ‘better life’. Something that fell through the cracks while Javier was in grade school. They moved back to Colombia shortly after and Javier had learned very quickly that in order to survive, you had to fight. So that’s what he did. Over the years he was in and out with the wrong people until eventually, he was a force to be reckoned with.

The leader of the Los Carnales Cartel.

He was smart. He was clever. And most of all, he was willing to do anything to get what he wanted - and anyone who knew him knew that and didn’t get in his way. That’s how he managed to stay afloat for so long. He kept his operation under wraps, only a select few people he trusted knew anything about the operations of his drug business. He took pride in the fact that he has been operating unobstructed for almost two years now, evading even the DEA.

Until tonight.

He, of course, didn’t know that the DEA had their sights on his cartel - hell - he didn’t even know that they knew he existed. But as he and a few of his sicarios sat in a local bar, one he had only been too once, many years earlier, he saw you. He had clocked you the minute you approached the bar, watched as you bantered lightly with the boy selling newspapers, and listened as you bid him farewell before taking a seat at the far end of the bar, newspaper in hand, and badge on your belt.

Wait - badge?

One of the reasons Javier was good at his job, is he was always aware of his surroundings - observant of those around him that may be a threat or cause problems. So when he says the golden metal gleam in the low light of the bar and caught the sleek black metal of a pistol on your belt, his interest was peaked. You weren’t a cop, at least not a local one. You spoke English too well, you sounded American, and most of all you were wearing a suit.

He looked to his comrades and told them he would be back before stalking across the bar and sliding into the seat next to you, amused at your refusal to look at him. He finally got you talking, and eventually even got you to reveal your name, taking this moment of vulnerability on your part to get a closer look at you. His eyes roamed from head to toe until they landed on the badge once more, just barely able to make out the letters on the golden metal peeking from beneath your blazer.

Drug Enforcement Agency - Special Agent.

You ask his name and he smiles, a triumphant gleam in his eye as he realizes the opportunity presented before him. A DEA agent who has no clue who he is, and has already let her guard down. He lets out a low chuckle, eyes on his half-full glass as he turns in slowly on the bar top, before looking back at the woman across from him and opens his mouth to respond,

“Javier Peña.”

----

¡Oye, Carlos! Espera un momento! - Hey Carlos, wait a minute!

Hola señorita (y/n), ¿cómo estás? - Hello miss (y/n), how are you?

Lo estoy haciendo bien Carlos, espero que lo estés haciendo bien. ¿Es demasiado tarde para comprar un periódico?” - I’m doing good Carlos, I hope you are doing good. Is it too late to buy a news paper?

“Muchas gracias señorita!” - Thank you very much miss!

“No hay problema Carlos, ten cuidado” - No problem Carlos, be careful.

¿puedo conseguir dos whiskys? uno para mí y otro para la dama - Can I get two whiskey’s? One for me and one for the lady.

felicitaciones en su promoción! - Congratulations on your promotion!

////

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#pedro pascal x reader #Javier pena x reader #narcos x reader #narco!javier pena x reader #Narco!Javier Pena #Javier pena

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kuriquinn · 4 years

Text

Wait For Me

Blanket Fic Disclaimer

Original Prompt by: @toscafan

"Olá. Você poderia escrever uma fic onde após Sasuke voltar para a vila, Sakura vai em uma missão e é gravemente ferida. Então Sasuke percebe que seus sentimentos por ela cresceram quando ele a vê ferida no hospital. Talvez com um pouco de Naruto preocupado também. Eu imagino isso entre o período que Sasuke volta para Konoha e antes de eles partirem juntos em suas viagens. Suas histórias são maravilhosas :) eu sinto muito não escrever em inglês :( “

[Roughly: Hello, Could you write a fic where after Sasuke returns to the village, Sakura goes on a mission and is seriously injured. Then Sasuke realises that his feelings for her have grown when he sees her injured in the hospital. Maybe with a bit of Naruto worried too. I imagine it between the time Sasuke returns to Konoha and before they leave together on their travels.]

Author’s Note: As promised during Evil Author Day, I am trying to finish some of my WIPs. I actually managed to finish this one (Prompt # 4), which is a total miracle given how I’ve been feeling lately. And the fact I think this one is like...two years old. So yeah, major backlog of stuff that needs writing. Enjoy!

Beta Reader: None but me and my editing software :)

________________________________________________________________

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

It shouldn’t have happened.

The words repeat themselves on a loop in Sasuke’s head, like a record player tossed asunder, skipping unerringly back over the same line in a song. In every momentary pause where the words begin to repeat, there is a breath, an extended moment of tension where his chest feels tighter and tighter.

She hasn’t been on active duty rosters since the war. Her field is medicine, not defense or combat or infiltration, and as strong and talented as Haruno Sakura is, she’s still human and prone to mistakes. Shinobi work isn’t like riding a bike. You have to continue to exercise your particular skillset daily, or mistakes can be made, leading to mishaps, leading to—

It shouldn’t have happened.

サスサク

When the call came in for a relief-force of medicnin, it wasn’t unusual. War or no, there are still major medical emergencies and disasters. In this case, reports reached Konoha of an earthquake 350 miles away. Though the village had barely experienced a tremor, the quake had apparently devastated the shepherding community living at the base of the mountain.

As a rule, Sakura should have stayed behind to coordinate everything from the village; with Tsunade on another of her gambling jaunts, she was the most senior healer.

But the devastated town was without its own medical corps, and the number of injured was overwhelming. Every able pair of hands was needed and naturally, Sakura volunteered herself for the mission.

“I can do the work of a dozen medics and they might need someone to lift debris,” she informed the Sixth Hokage when he seemed likely to protest. “I also trained the latest group of emergency medics going out there; they’re still relatively untested in the field. Better they take their orders from me than some random jounin that you assign.”

Kakashi knew better than to argue with his former student, but he was reluctant. For some reason, he was uneasy. There was little reason for it that he could discern, but after all his years as a shinobi, he had learned to heed his instincts.

“Please, Lord Sixth, there are many large families there, with children.”

Against that—with no concrete reason to give—he could not say no.

“Do you need anyone else beyond the emergency medics?”

“Any civilians with basic first aid training,” Sakura replied, pleased at the response. “Whichever doctors and staff can be spared. The general surgeons, perhaps, but no one with specialized training or technique that we would supper from losing.”

Kakashi nodded and made a gesture she recognized to mean an official granting of the request.

“Ideally, you’d send Naruto as well. He could use the Nine-Tails chakra to mass-heal the simplest injuries. It would make triage a lot faster.”

“That’s not in my power. I’m already on thin ice with the Elders for my executive order to pardon Sasuke. I doubt they’ll want him leaving the village any time soon.”

Sakura scowled.

Under normal circumstances she would argue—she had long ago made clear her dislike and distrust for the village Elders—but every minute spent arguing was wasting crucial time.

“Can you try to convince them?” she asked as she turned to leave the office. “We should be sending out best for this.”

“We already are,” Kakashi said with ease, and there was a smile in his eyes. The one Sakura returned was only a little strained, mind already on her future patients.

サスサク

Sasuke was on a short, probationary mission at the time, in the complete opposite direction from the disaster zone. He didn’t even hear about the earthquake until two days later.

While handing his mission report to Kakashi, he may have been somewhat surprised to learn Sakura would not be around to greet him the way she usually did—and Kakashi’s eyes had a far too knowing gleam in them when he mentioned it—but it never occurred to Sasuke that she would be in any kind of danger.

At least, nothing she wasn’t capable of handling for herself.

For those two days, Sasuke carried out his usual routine, slowly acclimating to being back in service to the village. It still wasn’t his preference to be around so many people, and there was a constant sense of discomfort that lingered at the back of his mind. The sensation of eyes on him from all over, ANBU and civilian alike, heavy with judgement and fear. The only time that feeling abated, even for just a little, was when he was around Sakura, Naruto or Kakashi.

Still, he wasn’t willing or able to seek any of them out. They all have busy lives, and he earned that judgement and fear from the village. It would be an easy feat to leave and never return, but he didn’t deserve easy. Remaining here was part of his punishment, and so he would learn to live with it.

At home, when the constant surveillance became too much, he went to an empty training ground and put himself through various sword forms or engage in other exercises. In two years, he’s grown used to living and fighting with only one arm, but it’s the constant practice that keeps him lethal.

On the morning of the third day he is going through one of his complex sword kata in the training ground where Kakashi made them genin. He tells himself it’s coincidence and not sentimentality that brought him here this morning, even as the three posts stand vigil over his training like towers of memory.

Today he is working only on form and movement, not using any techniques requiring chakra, just trying to sharpen his movements into their usual lethal grace.

As he uncoils from a low final arc of his sword, returning to a resting position, there is a sudden cracking noise; his gaze snaps toward it, and he watches as—apropos of nothing—the wooden post to his far right splits right down the middle.

Sasuke immediately goes still, focussing his awareness around himself and the area, scanning for danger. There is no one in this place foolish enough to try something—even if he wasn’t lethal on his own, the ANBU escorts hidden in the shadows would have been alerted.

The wind continues meander, sending leaves rustling; the sound of birds and the distant crash of the river do not change. There is not threat that he can detect, nothing but a growing sense of foreboding.

And then the ground begins to shake.

As far as earthquakes go, it’s not the worst he’s experienced. He has no problem remaining on his feat as the ground roils and trembles. Even the trees surrounding him show no sign of shuddering.

It’s small and innocuous, nothing on the same level as the one Sakura was sent to help with.

His eyes drift, lingering on the cracked post.

Memory conjures an image of a gawky twelve year old with too-long-to-be-practical hair and luminous green eyes betraying strain and discomfort as she feeds their third teammate tied to the middle post.

It’s probably nothing.

But for some reason his focus on his exercises vanishes, replaced instead with a growing disquiet in the pit of his stomach.

It only grows with every moment as he returns to the village proper and, without knowing why, makes a beeline for Hokage Tower. All around him, people talk excitedly about the tremor, laughing it off and telling one another what they were doing when they noticed it. It’s just a facet of their day, something that—while uncommon—is not dangerous enough to merit panic.

So why does he suddenly feel uneasy?

サスサク

Sasuke arrives at the Tower at the same time as Naruto, a face which causes his inexplicable agitation to ratchet immediately higher, especially given his friend’s uncharacteristic frown and the absence of his usual joking greeting.

Without exchanging words, they enter Kakashi’s office and are immediately treated to the sight of their former instructor pacing by the window, a frown drawing his brows together. The coiled cord of the telephone stretches and relaxes with his back-and-forth movements. It’s so in contrast to his usual demeanor—lazily slouched in his chair—that Sasuke’s spine stiffens in response.

Kakashi eventually hangs up the phone and faces his students.

“There was a second earthquake,” he tells them gravely. “Right next to the refugee camp we set up. According to reports, about 180 million tons of mountainside have crumble down onto the camp. They don’t know if there are any survivors.”

Sasuke’s fist clenches and Naruto’s eyes blink into slits as he activates his senjutsu.

“I can’t sense Sakura’s chakra,” he says, a panicked note in his voice. “Usually I get a definite flicker from her, even at this distance…”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Sasuke tells him. “She masks her chakra when she’s on medical missions to avoid presenting a target.”

He’s not sure how he knows this, since he can’t recall if she mentioned any such practice in their conversations since he’s been back, yet he knows it to be true. Still, this knowledge brings no comfort with it, because the uncomfortable pit in his stomach remains.

“She would be healing everyone after a huge disaster like that,” Naruto protests. “I’d definitely sense that. But I can’t.”

Which, admittedly, worries Sasuke a little despite his unshakable faith in Sakura’s abilities.

Naruto turns to Kakashi, his shoulders squared as if in preparation for a fight. “I’m going to check on her. Even if she’s fine, they’ll need help digging survivors out. I can definitely help with that.”

“Fine,” Kakashi says. The fact he doesn’t argue or mention the concerns of the Elders is telling. “If you leave now, you should get there within—”

Sasuke doesn’t stay to listen.

He’s already climbing the stairs to the roof where there is more open space.

He is by no means an expert at using his Rinnegan yet—every day heralds a new ability or application—but he has more or less figured out how to travel between far distant locations instantly.

“Oi! Sasuke! Wait up!” Naruto shouts from behind as Sasuke focusses himself on creating a pathway. He glanced the coordinates he needs on the papers covering Kakashi’s desk, knows where he’s supposed to go—

The space in front of him crackles, displacing the air, and then rips open, forming a portal of swirling violet energy. On the other side, he can discern a giant wall of rubble.

He wastes no time slipping through, trusting Naruto to follow directly behind him.

サスサク

The sight before them is a grim one.

Sasuke hasn’t seen destruction on this scale since the war.

Mountains loom around them, the closest one looking misshapen due to the giant shelf that has vanished as if scraped off with a giant chisel. Its remnants spill out in front of it, creating a smaller mountain of churned earth and rock, uprooted trees and other debris.

People gather around, civilian and shinobi alike, covered in dust and digging frantically at the rubble. Likely the lucky few who were far enough away when the second quake hit to avoid the harm.

There are almost no Konohanin, medicnin or otherwise, that he can see, suggesting a grim truth to him: they are all underneath the remains of the mountain. Dead, most likely, or trapped and dying as the seconds pass.

But where is Sakura?

She could survive being buried under such weight, and should have dug her way out by now. Stone and rock are like cottage cheese to her strong fists.

“Naruto!”

The two newcomers glance up as a Konohanin scrambles toward them. As he gets closer, Sasuke recognizes him as the kid Sakura has taken on as an assistant. Ando something or other.

“We need help!” the kid gasps when he arrives in front of them, dust-covered and exhausted. “We can’t shift the earth using doton because it could hurt the people underneath.”

The jinchuriki is already forming the signs to summon up shadow clones. If this has to b cleared by hand, he’s the best man for the job. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”

“We’ll get through this without a problem!”

“Believe it!”

The clones are already spreading out across the landscape, like a sea of orange washing over the scene.

Sasuke stares down at the boy. “Where is Sakura?”

Ando goes pale beneath the fine layer of dust, eyes pained. “When the earthquake stared, she was trying to get everyone in the medical tents to safety. When she realized she couldn’t, she tried to create barriers to stop the worst of the damage using doton. But it was coming on too fast, and so she tried to slow down the avalanche—"

“Of course she did,” Sasuke murmurs to himself, teeth gritted.

“—but it wasn’t enough! The last I saw, she was destroying the rocks coming at her, but then she was buried.”

“And where were you in all this?”

There’s an accusation in his words that has made stronger men tremble, but Ando merely shudders and clenches his fists. No shrinking violets working with Sakura, that’s for sure.

“I was on water duty. The rivers here were all polluted by the first quake, and so I had to travel far. I saw it all from that cliff up there and hurried down here as fast as I could to help, but…”

He gestures ineffectively, clearly not knowing where to start.

“Sasuke!” Naruto yells all of a sudden, and Sasuke’s head whips toward where he is helping a woman with shredded clothing to climb from the rubble. She is remarkably stable on her feet, considering the situation, and Sasuke understands a moment later when he sees the white creature attached to her shoulder.

“Lady Katsuyu!” Ando cries and hurries over, followed closely by SAsuke.

“Where’ Sakura?” Naruto demands as the younger boy helps the quake victim to sit down. “Is she okay?”

“She’s at the very bottom,” Katsuyu says fretfully. “There’s an airpocket and she’ll still have air for a little while, but she’s gravely injured. Her entire lower body is crushed.” Sasuke’s heart constricts painfully. “I tried to help, but she insisted I attach myself to all the refugees, to keep them alive until help arrives. I fear she won’t be able to keep it up very long. Even my healing can’t save the people buried so long without oxygen.”

“Little fool,” Sasuke growls, the viciousness of the words surprising him more than the situation. Of course she’s more worried about the survival of her patients and the others instead of herself.

“We’re getting her out,” Naruto declares, summoning more clones. “We’ll get her and everyone else out!”

And Sasuke finds himself hoping this is another miracle that his friend’s mere presence and stubbornness will help pull off.

サスサク

The task is arduous and time consuming.

Sasuke is bizarrely conscious of the speed at which the time passes—too fast. They continue dragging survivors out from beneath the rubble—all unharmed, but looking more and more shambled as the rescue efforts reach deeper into the rubble. Every so often, there is a red glow, and the unearth another person being Naruto has managed to sense and enfold in his healing chakra cloak.

Sasuke uses his snake summons for the first time in years, sending them from his sleeve to slither around and crush rocks blocking their path. He digs one-handed while Naruto and the clones make quick work of their chosen debris fields.

They have yet to find Sakura, or a person that as died of their injuries; all of them so far have had a miniature clone of Lady Katsuyu attached somewhere on their bodies.

Yet he can’t sense Sakura.

“Her chakra signature is everywhere,” he frets. “She’s channelling it through Katsuyu to keep everyone alone. I can’t get a proper read on her.”

“And you won’t,” Lady Katsuyu says in a tremulous tone. “The byakugou has disengaged—her strength has finally run out.” She shudders. “We’re too far away. There’s no way we’ll make it to her in time. And I can only linger here a few minutes longer without her sustaining me.”

“We’ll make it!” Naruto growls, tone and eyes harsh like that of a cornered fox. There’s a panic there, belying his words, because he clearly has no idea how they’re going to do that.

It’s that panic more than anything so far that makes Sasuke’s guts roil and a sickening nausea of fear well up within him. Because Naruto never gives up, he always has hope and he always has some kind of harebrained plan to fix a bad situation.

And if he doesn’t have one in this case, it means Sakura’s fate is sealed.

Which—

No.

“You have a clone with Sakura now?” he asks Katsuyu.

“O-of course,” the snail replies, almost surprised at being addressed so directly.

“You can share your chakra between one another. Can you share the chakra of someone else the same way?”

Naruto’s eyes widen as he catches on. “Yes! If I share my chakra with you and your clone, I’ll able to sense where your clone is and we can find Sakura faster.”

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Lady Satsuyu replies mournfully. “And besides, I can’t share your chakra, Naruto-kun. The chakra of biju is too volatile, and unless a blood contract has been made, like yours with the toads, it would become too volatile.”

“You wouldn’t need a contract with me,” Sasuke says. “My chakra is entirely my own.”

The slug’s head bobs to one side in consideration, and then she makes a noise of assent. “We can try.”

Sasuke holds out his hand, allowing Lady Katsuyu to inch closer, pressing herself up against his palm. There’s a beat of tense silence as they both concentrate, Sasuke infusing a burst of chakra in the tiny creature’s body.

She shudders from the force of it, her energy signature changing to a mixture of her own and his.

“It’s done,” she says, and he can feel a tiny twinge in his senses calling from far beneath the crumbled mountain.

Sasuke nods and begins to back away from the rubble. “Get beneath her.”

“I don’t understand,” Ando is saying. “How will that be any different from before? Lady Katsuyu was already able to direct us to Sakura.”

“He’s not just looking for Sakura’s location,” Naruto says with a grim smile. “He needs to know exactly where she is.”

“But why—?”

Sasuke tunes out the useless questions as he positions himself somewhere with a decent amount of clearance all around him. Bracing himself—he’s never tried this particular gambit before—he activates the Sharingan and reaches deep within his chakra reserves.

Instantly, violent purple energy manifests, bones and muscle and armor, as Susanoo encompasses him all around. The burning, ripping pain of it has almost become distant by now, and he focusses past it, still holding onto that shred of his chakra beckoning him from wherever Sakura is.

He turns his head, concentrating on the space in front of Susanoo’s empty right hand and activates the Rinnegan.

A portal twists into being from thin air, and Sasuke hardly waits before raising Susanoo’s hand and pressing the limb through the portal. He can distantly feel the weight of her against the flat of the hand as it materializes directly beneath her body, and then pulls her backward, shutting the portal immediately after extracting her to ensure none of the rubble baring down on her might follow.

As gentle as he can, Sasuke lays Sakura down upon the ground, Susanoo vanishing as her body touches the earth.

サスサク

Everyone is already kneeling around her when Sasuke touches back down, the chakra giant vanishing once more. Lady Katsuyu vanishes, no longer having Sakura’s strength to draw on, and Naruto is snapping something at Ando, probably to get help.

All of it washes over Sasuke in a meaningless, soundless wave as his eyes fall upon Sakura. His lungs tighten as he takes in her broken body.

Her legs are bruised and battered, crushed inward in some places and bones poking out of other places; it’s the same for her hips and several ribs. Her eyes are open and staring, a trail of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth and nose.

The sight is terrifying.

For a short yet eternal moment he is back in the streets of the Uchiha district, surrounded by the bodies of his family. Just as he was then, he is frozen now—inutile and incapable of doing anything.

“Naruto…” he begins, not knowing exactly what he’s trying to ask.

“This is bad,” Naruto says, voice strained. His eyes are slits once more, his sage mode active as a red film covers Sakura’s body. “I can heal the big stuff, but so much has been pulverized…” He swallows as if in physical pain; Sasuke knows the feeling. “She needs someone that can do surgery at the microlevel. If I heal her right now, like this, I could do a lot more harm then good.”

It’s a measure of how far Naruto’s come that he recognizes this, that he knows not to simply ram through his power and hope it helps.

Sasuke doesn’t know what will help now.

Scenarios and plans speed through a mind more suited for battle tactics than life-saving measures, as he tries to think of any way that he can help her and wishing for the first time in a long time that Karin were here.

Wishing he had ever taken the time to learn more about the healing arts than how to kill.

All the while, the sight of Sakura’s shattered limbs taunting him as her blood seeps into the sand.

Sasuke blinks.

Sand.

The memory hits him out of nowhere, the way many of his recollections from before do. Waking in a hospital, distantly hearing people talking about a fight—sand versus strength.

“Tsunade,” Sasuke says, remembering how the Fifth Hokage dealt with something similar. Right around the time she healed his mind from Itachi’s merciless assault on it, she saved Rock Lee from a life of paralysis.

Naruto is frowning, once again on the same wavelength as him. “No one knows where she is.”

“I’ll find her. Get Sakura back to Konoha—”

“No…”

Both of them jump at the pained, feeble voice and glance down.

Sakura’s eyes are closed now, clenched as tight as her jaw when she speaks through gritted teeth. “There are still…people…” She tries to raise a hand, gesture toward the rubble. “Naruto…stay and…help…”

“Sakura, no!” he snaps. “You’re in a mess right now, I need to keep you going until—”

“…Too much…damage…wasting your…chakra…”

“Sakura,” Sasuke says tersely, and her eyes shoot open toward him. Awareness flickers behind green irises, along with some surprise, as if she didn’t realize or expect him to be there.

“Sasu…ke…”

He shivers.

There has never been a time in his life when he and Sakura haven’t been aware of the presence of the other. The fact she didn’t notice him is telling in the severity of her injury…as is her not expecting him to be by her side.

After all, when has he ever been?

What has he ever done for her?

“We have to get her out of here,” Naruto says. “Do you have enough strength for another portal?”

Sasuke nods, though he isn’t sure; he’s used his abilities twice now in quick succession. But for Sakura, he’ll try.

The space beside them rips open, once more opening onto the familiar rooftops of Konoha as seen from Hokage Tower. All they need to do is step through, and so Naruto goes to pick Sakura up, only for her to scream in sudden sharp agony.

Sasuke’s heart stutters, his concentration wavering slightly, allowing the portal to shrink and contract worryingly.

“She’s too hurt,” Naruto says, panicked. “We need to keep her on her back or…I might sever something important.”

There are no stretchers here, no immobilizing aids to move her. If he had any idea where Tsunade Senju was, he’d seek her out and return her here instantly, but he doesn’t have that time and neither does Sakura.

“I’ll bring her,” Sasuke says.

“But—”

“You stay here. Help the survivors.”

There’s something on his face that keeps Naruto from arguing further, but Sasuke is no longer paying attention. Once again, he centers himself, trying to divide his power between the portal and call up Susanoo in just the right manner.

It takes searing concentration to manifest Susanoo’s hand in the space between Sakura’s body and the ground, letting the chakra fill in beneath her and keep her steady and supine.

Sakura’s eyes are wide, trained on him in something like desperation, before they roll back and she lapses into unconsciousness.

Sasuke’s lungs constrict, but he forces himself to work through it, to slide Susanoo’s hand straight through the portal until Sakura is no longer lying among the debris of the dead but in the safety of their village.

Sweat breaks out across his forehead and the back of his neck, and he tastes blood in his mouth, but he manages to retract the chakra within him. He’s about to step through when—

“Wait!”

He grits his teeth, eyes darting back to the kid—Ando—who has returned.

“Let me come too,” he says. “I can keep her stable, or—or go get someone from the hospital, or—”

“Go!” Sasuke snarls, half from effort and half from irritation the boy is taking up valuable seconds.

A terrified expression breaks over Ando’s face for a moment, before he throws himself headlong through the portal.

“Find Tsunade,” Sasuke tells Naruto as he follows. He doesn’t have to hear the response to know he will.

サスサク

He has no right to be here.

The intensive care wing of Konoha’s hospital is a flurry of movement as doctors and nurses and medic-nin rush in and out of the surgery where they are working on Sakura. He lingers outside the doors, his own self-recrimination keeping him out here more than the ‘Staff Only’ sign on the door.

He doesn’t deserve to be here, to hear news of her condition. He left—he’s always leaving—and she’s always waiting. She’s always here and he realizes with a sudden disbelief that somehow, somewhere along the line something in him has taken that for granted.

Ever since the War, ever since watching her blossom into her abilities and to demonstrate power that makes her neigh indestructible, he’s been thinking of her as if she is. As if she’s a constant that will never change, that will always exist.

Like she’s immortal.

Except she’s not, she can die like anyone else.

It’s something taken for granted in their line of work, but medic-nin die the same as anyone else in the service. And Sakura would be the first to insist she is no more important than anyone else, that her life is the same value as any of their comrades. He knows if given the choice she’d sacrifice that same life without any regret—hell, he watched her try to do just that today.

That knowledge—and the reality of what is happening behind that door in front of him, the image of the light in her eyes dying—steals his breath.

Will that be his last memory of her? A broken body pulled from a wreckage?

Very real terror grips him then, something he hasn’t felt in years. A close, clawing sensation and his lungs constricting as something jagged forms in his throat. Nightmares of blood in the streets, blood in his hands and the rush of a waterfall in the background, the chirping of lightning in his ears—

“Sasuke.”

His head jerks up, the world around him returning, senses no longer going haywire to stave off the incoming panic.

Kakashi is standing beside him—when did he get here?—eyes somber. There’s a beat before he reaches out, hesitant, and lays a hand on his shoulder.

It’s as if a current is going through him, memories from long ago, that same hand on his shoulder. It’s the first time Kakashi has reached out to him since he left Konoha as a child.

“I’ve had news from Naruto,” his former instructor continues. “He’s found Tsunade.”

And somehow with those three words, every bit of tension in Sasuke’s body evaporates. He realizes he hasn’t been breathing and tries his best not to gulp for air, forces himself to inhale slowly through his nose, to not lose his composure.

Kakashi, of course, is not fooled. “Sakura will be alright. She’s strong.”

Sasuke wants to reply that he knows, he’s always known, but his tongue is still frozen. Instead, he returns his gaze upon the door, trying to sense what is happening beyond it.

He feels Kakashi remove his hand, but the man’s intense stare remains on him.

“I should go,” he eventually manages to say. Yet his legs refuse to move.

“You should stay. You’re exactly where you need to be.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re exactly where she needs you to be.”

Sasuke’s protest dies before it was truly born, and he goes back to trying to breath. Inhale and hold; exhale and repeat. It doesn’t matter what he needs or wants, after all.

Why?

Sakura is Sakura. Yes, they have always had a connection, a bond, but it’s the same connection he’s had with the rest of his former squad. You can’t go on missions or into battle with one another without developing a synchronicity. Even if the connections are different.

With Kakashi it’s the kindred spirit of someone who has lost everything almost the same as he has, with Naruto it’s a bond that can never be replicated for the most complicated of cosmic reasons.

And yet…with Sakura, there’s something different there.

He always thought it was nostalgia, the last lingering remnants of a weak child desperate for whatever scrap of affection was offered to him after losing his parents. Every moment he’s ever spent with her, he pretended like it didn’t affect him at all; and yet, there was always that eagerness he had to tamp down, wanting to see the smile on her face because he knew he didn’t deserve it.

A smile he missed in the years training with Orochimaru, then wandering the world in penance. He knows she’s had feelings for him since they were children, and has has spent most of his last years hoping against hope that she’ll let him go and move on.

That she’ll find someone else, someone worthy of her, someone who will keep her safe and guard her heart against pain. Because that’s all he can give her is pain; tht, and a soul that will never completely heal.

Except it wont matter, will it, if she dies?

She’ll be gone, and he’ll be empty again. No matter where he goes, he’s always known that somewhere, Sakura is out there, keeping him in her heart. He knows that even if she does find another, there will always be a part of her that thinks of him, just like he will always have a part of him that thinks of her.

But if she dies…if she doesn’t make it through this…

Suddenly he can see it.

Years stretch out in front of him, bleak and empty and gray. Visits to a gravestone of a life that could have been. Regrets and pain and an endless void of existing instead of living.

More of everything he endured as a child, only this time, without the tiny ray of sunlight that Sakura willingly gave him.

And suddenly, he realizes he doesn’t want that.

A world without Sakura in it, is not one that he wants to be a part of.

He wants her—needs her—to be happy. And if her happiness is him…if he could ensure that happiness somehow…

Well, he’ll do whatever it takes.

Sasuke takes a shuddering breath at the realization.

It feels sudden, like a switch has been flipped with realization, and yet at the same time he knows it has always been this way.

He’s in love with Sakura.

The world returns then in sharp focus, ignorant to the realizations he’s just made. Kakashi is still eyeing him with concern. Perhaps wondering if he’s going to have to talk him out of leaving the hospital, even though Sasuke knows that he’s not going anywhere until he can watch her open her eyes again.

Until she smiles at him again.

Maybe not even then.

“I’ll wait for her then,” he says, shaken but still somehow managing to control the timbre of his voice. He leans against the wall, eyes once more resting on the door in expectation.

I’ll wait for her forever.

終わり

________________________________________________________________

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writingpaperghost · 3 years

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There is a Me Who Can Become Strong (Chapter 17)

Chapter 17: A Non-Standard BURGSTER?!

It's Emu's day off, but Yuko finds someone strange.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32857183/chapters/83823709

Today, Emu was given the day off. Mostly because, according to Poppy, he was “too stressed” and “needed rest after everything with Yuko and revealing himself”. Also because Saki had a full day of surgeries today and wouldn’t be able to supervise him. So barring any Bugster related emergencies, he had the day off.

He’d allowed himself to indulge in a day of just being himself and not being Emu, so he wasn’t even in his Emu disguise, which was odd given he didn’t often do that. He’d gotten so used to both looking and acting like Emu, so it was still weird when he wasn’t. Acting like Emu sometimes fell away, when he just couldn’t keep up the personality, but even then, he still kept up his appearance. Admittedly, his outfit might draw some attention, but for the most part he figured he’d be fine.

Normally, when Emu took the day off, he just stayed inside, since people were, well, hard. But not today! Today he was being adventurous. Today, he was at a park. He was still playing video games, obviously, but now he was doing it outside. Which is pretty different from what he’d normally do.

Of course, Emu was never quite so lucky to have a boring day stay boring. And then Yuko arrived.

---

Yuko was idly munching on her burger and fries, not that she was a big fan of burgers. But she was settled at a restaurant today, her laptop opened. She was mostly focusing on typing away on her keyboard, occasionally taking a bite of burger or fries.

At least, she was, until she finds her burger mysteriously missing. The culprit of which she was easily able to find, only because he was large and burger shaped, though a scarf attempted to hide such a thing. She quickly deduced he was probably a Bugster, but why was he stealing burgers? Jumping up from her seat, Yuko grabs her laptop and chases after him.

“Hey!” She called, prompting the burger to run away, “Come back here!” This probably had the opposite of the intended effect, but Yuko was pretty good at running.

Eventually, she catches up with the burger shaped burger thief, who had found a man, who was clearly worrying over the burger Bugster. Concerned, the man said, “Burgermon, you have to be careful…”

“I’m sorry, Tsukuru,” The burger Bugster, Burgermon, responded, “I just wanted some burger, burg.”

Slowing down, Yuko watches the two for a moment, before speaking up, “So a burger Bugster who likes burgers?” This causes the two, Tsukuru and Burgermon, to turn their attention to her, “You could have just, like, asked. I don’t even eat burgers all that much.”

Tsukuru quickly apologized, “I’m sorry he stole your burger,” An act that Yuko didn’t’ think was necessary, given she wasn’t really all that mad. “Don’t tell anyone about Burgermon! I don’t want them to hurt him!”

One thing that was quickly becoming clear about Burgermon, was that he wasn’t like normal Bugsters. At this point, a regular Bugster would definitely have tried to do something to really stress out their host. Not to mention, what game is a burger Bugster even from?

Compared to other Bugsters – and Yuko knew that she had a small pool of reference to pull from – Burgermon was hardly dangerous. Yuko blinked, “I’m going to assume you’re the one who’s infected. But… why are you so fond of him? He could cause you to die.”

At that, Burgermon shrinked closer to Tsukuru, nearly trying to hide behind him. Tsukuru just seemed sad, “I know, but he’s… He’s not violent like other Bugsters. Burgermon just wants burgers.”

“Clearly,” Yuko laughs, “But… I still think you should go to the CR about this. They might be able to figure out a way to cure you without having to… kill Burgermon.” Given they had both Poppy and more importantly Emu on their team, it was almost certain they’d want to figure out how to cure Tsukuru peacefully.

Still, Tsukuru seemed hesitant, so Yuko tries again, “Really, they’re all weirdly nice there,” Then, what she really hopes will convince them, the reason she herself was convinced, “Besides, there’s twoBugsters working at the CR, I’m sure they’d all love to let there be another Bugster who can live peacefully with humans. They only fight Bugsters because the ones they fight don’t give them a choice.”

Tsukuru looks at Burgermon for a moment, then back at Yuko, “Okay,” He answers hesitantly.

So Yuko leads the two with her back to the CR, seeing no reason in calling in and making a fuss. Along the way, she talks with Tsukuru and Burgermon, finding that Burgermon was really a polite boy and the two almost seemed like father and son. Which was sweet, really, and made Yuko hope even more that the CR would be able to find a solution to this dilemma.

It was along the way to the CR, that she sees Emu, not at all disguised as Emu and instead in his proper appearance. He was sitting on a bench in the park playing a game on his Gemnboy – Mighty Action X, she determines when she comes close enough to hear the sounds.

“Hey, Emu!” At her call, Emu startles, then looks up, visibly confused.

After a moment, he sighs and asks, “Yuko, why is there a giant burger behind you?” At that question, Burgermon shrinks behind Tsukuru once more.

“He’s a Bugster,” She answered, “His name is Burgermon.”

---

Emu joins Yuko on her journey to bring Tsukuru and Burgermon to the CR, once more in his Emu appearance. Not that the journey lasted much longer, since they were dramatically interrupted by the arrival of none other than Kuroto Dan.

“Para-DX,” He called, pointing at Emu, “I will destroy your illegal game!”

Tsukuru blinked and quietly asked, “Is that…?”

“He’s gone a bit crazy in six years, I think,” Yuko answers.

Yet it’s Emu himself who disrupts Kuroto’s plan. Not by resisting, though, but by sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “Um, about that…” He pulls out only Mighty Action X, “I… left my other Gashats at home.”

“What?!” Yuko gasped, grabbing Emu’s arm, “Seriously?”

Hurriedly, he tugs his arm away, “Yes!”

Kuroto pauses in thought for a moment, “Well I have another bootleg to get rid of,” Then he turns his sights to Burgermon, “He too comes from an illegal game.”

Yuko whips her head to look at him and glares, “I swear, if try to harm a crumb on Burgermon’s body I will murder you with my own two hands!” She attempts to run at him, but Emu grabs her and holds her back.

“Yuko, no! That’s a bad idea!” Despite his protests, Yuko continued to struggle, but was unable to break free.

Finally, Yuko calmed down, right in time for Kuroto to pull out his Buggle Driver and the Dangerous Zombie Gashat. In turn, Emu pulls out the Mighty Action X Gashat.

Dangerous Zombie!

Mighty Action X!

Buggle Up! Danger! Danger! (Genocide!) Death the crisis! Dangerous Zombie!

Level up! Mighty jump! Mighty kick! Mighty-Mighty Action X!

Gemn lunges towards Burgermon, but Emu intercepts, slashing at him with his axe. It does little to phase Gemn, though. The best he can really do is block Gemn’s attacks, which was better than nothing, but certainly not ideal.

Bang Bang Critical Strike!

A shot hits Gemn, knocking him back as Nico slides on scene, “Not getting in too far over your head, are you M?”

As the two begin to fight Gemn, both mostly blocking his attacks, behind them, Tsukuru perks up. “I know,” He said, pulling something out of his pocket, “One of them could use this.”

It was a Gashat, yellow and red, with it’s label declaring it the Ju Ju Burger Gashat. Yuko’s never heard of the game, though she isn’t really one who’s terribly knowledgeable about games. Still, she grabs it and catches Emu’s attention.

“Hey, Emu!” At her words, Emu turns to face her and she throws the Gashat. “Tsukuru said to use it.”

Emu nods and activates the Gashat.

Ju Ju Burger!

Bur~ger~ (Ju Ju) Bur~ger~ (Ju Ju) Ju Ju Burger!

The first thing Emu realizes is that he has roller skates. The next thing he realizes is that he has mustard and ketchup bottles on his arms. Thankfully, Emu wasn’t as clumsy as the real Emu was and was actually able to use roller skates.

“I’ll make burgers with no continues!”

The usage of this Gashat only seemed to piss off Gemn more, “You dare to use a bootleg Gashat? Against me?”

Nico shoots him, “Shut up, Gemn,” She groans, “No one wants to hear you gripe about illegal games or whatever.”

The two were able better keep Gemn back, but even then, were still clearly struggling. Ju Ju Burger helped, but it still wasn’t quite enough to really stop Gemn. Ju Ju Burger was only Level 4, which was definitely better than Level 2 like Emu’d been using, but Nico was still only using Level 2…

Finally, Gemn huffed, “Fine, the illegal games survive this time,” His voice is cold, “But it won’t next time.”

---

When they return to the CR, their able to ask Tsukuru more about who he was and what had caused Burgermon. He worked at Gemn Corp. and had been infected somehow when working on Ju Ju Burger, causing Burgermon to appear. He then made the Ju Ju Burger Gashat, hoping that it could help the CR if they ever found out about Burgermon.

Yuko was right that Burgermon was more or less harmless and it was clear that the source Tsukuru’s stress was if something happened to Burgermon. So they were in a bit of a complicated position.

Not too long after they got to the CR, Saki arrived and stared right at Emu, “You’re supposed to have the day off,”

“Yuko found us a patient,” Emu explains, “But it’s a bit complicated.”

“Burgermon is a nice Bugster,” Yuko frowns, “And hurting him will stress Tsukuru.”

Nico groans, “But if Tsukuru gets too stressed, whether from Burgermon being in danger or otherwise, we’ve also got a problem,” She stretches, “We can’t not do something, but we also can’t fight Burgermon.”

Adding on, Emu sighs, “And Kuroto seems really annoyed about both Burgermon’s and the Ju Ju Burger Gashat’s existence,” He shakes his head, “He’s already targeted him once.”

Saki takes in their words, the sounds of Poppy and Burgermon making burgers in her cabinet in the background. No one wanted to fight Burgermon, let alone kill him, but they weren’t sure how to cure Tsukuru otherwise.

---

“Ju Ju Burger, you said?” Mu was perched on the couch, staring at Kuroto, “Like the one that Mr. Tsukuru’s always wanted to continue? The one that’s practically his baby?”

Kuroto huffed, “Yes, Mu, that Ju Ju Burger,”

Who would be able to get infected by a game that wasn’t even finished? The only one who even kept working on that game was… “Is the one infected Mr. Tsukuru?”

“Hm?” Kuroto had already turned his attention back to his computer, the other double Gashat with a knob and Taddle Quest hooked up to it. “Oh, yes, I believe so.”

Mu stared for a moment, “I hope they cure him,” He said quietly. He liked Mr. Tsukuru, he was nice and often would talk to Mu about what he was working on. Mu hadn’t had a chance to talk to him in a while, having not been at Gemn Corp as much since Christmas. Masamune didn’t want to risk another run-in like the one he’d had with Lazer. “So what are you working on now?”

Curling his lips into a smile, Kuroto answers, “I’m upgrading Taddle Quest, of course. It’ll be stronger, like your Gashat.”

Furrowing his brows, Mu just nods, “Okay,”

---

When Emu comes into the CR the next day, he’s startled by Poppy immediately popping into his face, “Burgermon’s missing!”

“What?”

How could Burgermon have gone missing? It would be really hard to lose a whole burger Bugster. Still, Poppy’s worry makes it clear that Burgermon has, in fact, disappeared on her.

As the two rush up the stairs, hoping to find some kind of clue hiding somewhere. The clue was rather obvious, though, given the pickles placed carefully on a tray, with letters written in ketchup.

Saki began to walk up the stairs with Director Kagami at her side, when Poppy declares, “It’s a message in pickles!”

Blinking, Saki asked, “A… message? In pickles…?”

Emu quickly explained, “Burgermon’s disappeared, but it looks like he left a message.”

Poppy reads the message, “I’ve gone to go make Tsukuru better, burg.”

“Make him better?” Emu echoes, “How does he think he’ll do that?”

“I don’t know,” Saki shakes her head, “But we need to find him.”

They find him in a park, dramatically declaring, “If you don’t get away from me, they’ll be ketchup! I mean blood!” It certainly prompted people to run away. Except for Nico and Yuko, who had already been there.

Yuko was practically pulling at Burgermon’s arm, “Come on, Burgermon! Think of how sad Tsukuru will be if something happens to you!” Nico just watches, transformed, but clearly unsure what to do.

“She’s right, Burgermon,” Tsukuru pleaded, “Don’t do this!”

Burgermon just shakes his head, “No, I was actually evil all along, burg!”

Emu didn’t believe that, “Even if you are a villain, there are other roles you can play than being defeated.”

“Remember Burgermon,” Poppy began, “Your game is about making you happy, not hurting other people!”

He doesn’t say anything in response, instead, he launches an attack of various burger toppings. Emu transforms using Ju Ju Burger, and shoots at the toppings with the mustard and ketchup cannons on his arms. Nico just watches, letting Emu do whatever it is he has planned.

As the parts came together, a burger lands in Burgermon’s hand.

Game Clear!

“That means you’re cured, Tsukuru!” Poppy cheered, though it was quickly cut off by slow, ominous clapping.

“Quite a show,” Kuroto said, “I like your little words of encouragement.” He halts his clapping. This time, he’s joined by Ex-Aid.

Tsukuru looks at Ex-Aid and gasps, “Mu? What are you doing with him?” Emu paused at that. Mu? Like Masamune’s assistant? The one that was dead? Or at least, they thought he was dead.

Ex-Aid, rather, Mu, startles and looks at him, “Oh, Mr. Tsukuru…” he mumbled, then tugs at Kuroto’s sleeve, “Kuroto, why are we still here? Mr. Tsukuru’s been cured?”

Kuroto just smiled, “I have a bootleg game to destroy,”

Mu clearly frowned, “Ju Ju Burger? Or do you mean…?” Then he gasped, “Kuroto! You can’t kill Burgermon! He’s harmless!”

“He’s from an illegal game, Mu,” Kuroto says, “I can’t just have those running around.”

“Are you serious?” Mu huffed, “Mr. Tsukuru works at Gemn Corp, what more could you ask for?”

Kuroto ignores him and takes out the Dangerous Zombie Gashat. Nico quickly grabs Jet Combat, finally leveling up. Nico and Emu quickly run to stop Kuroto’s attacks. Mu doesn’t transform, instead watching for a moment as Kuroto, Nico, and Emu fight. Finally, he walks over to where Poppy, Saki, Tsukuru, and Burgermon stand.

Saki and Poppy place themselves between Mu and Tsukuru and Burgermon. With an almost hurt expression, Mu says emotionlessly, “I’m sorry,” He’s looking at both Burgermon and Tsukuru, ignoring Poppy and Saki. “Kuroto’s made up his mind. I’m not sure anyone can stop him now.”

Tsukuru gently pushes past Saki and Poppy, “Why do you work with him, Mu?”

Mu looks away, “When I found out you were infected, I was so worried. Now you’re cured and it’s clear that Burgermon is important to you but…” He had a pained expression, “I’m sorry, I just. I have to complete the game, so these sort of things don’t happen again. Alright? I’m sorry, but this is something I need to do. You’ll understand soon, I’m just… Not allowed to talk much about it.”

Quietly, Poppy asked, “Not allowed by who? Kuroto?”

“You’ll find out soon, when the game is completed, I’m sure,” He looks a bit… worried, though it’s unclear why. Then he reaches into his pocket, hesitating for a moment. Saki and Poppy were clearly put on edge by that action. He pulled out his Gamer Driver and two Gashats, the Proto Mighty Action X and Proto Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat. He turns to face towards where Nico and Emu were still fighting Kuroto, struggling to keep up.

Mighty Action X!

Drago Knight Hunter Z!

Do-Do-Drago Kni-Kni-Kni-Knight! Dra! Dra! Drago Knight Hunter! Z!

Saki, Poppy, Tsukuru, and Burgermon watch for a moment, as Mu just stares at the fight. As Gemn knocks Emu and Nico down, the Ju Ju Burger Gashat clattering to the ground, Mu runs up to Kuroto.

“Come on, Kuroto! Stop it! This is unnecessary.” Emu can’t help but think that Mu sounded familiar. He’s thought that a few times before, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Why are you so insistent in sparing that bootleg Bugster?”

“Because he hasn’t done anything wrong! Because I don’t want to see Tsukuru hurt! Because your reasoning is stupid!” Mu continues to tug at Kuroto’s arm.

Kuroto shakes him off and turns his attention towards Burgermon and Tsukuru, and by proxy, Poppy and Nico.

Critical Dead!

Mu gasped and lunges forward, using Hunter Gamer’s tail to knock Saki and Poppy away. Annoyingly, Tsukuru and Burgermon were just a little too far. Yet before the Critical Dead could reach them, Burgermon rushes forward and takes the hit entirely.

Stalking over to where Emu was, Kuroto picks up the Ju Ju Burger Gashat. “Come on, Ex-Aid, we’re done here.”

Mu just stares as Kuroto walked off. Stunned, he removed the two Gashats from his Gamer Driver. He stands there, for a moment, before glancing back and Tsukuru and quietly repeating, “I’m sorry,” Then runs off after Kuroto.

---

Back at their hideout, Mu just sits on the couch, his arms crossed as he glared at Kuroto. He doesn’t say anything, just glare. Kuroto types at his computer for a moment, then sighs. Standing up, he walks over to the couch and hands Mu the Ju Ju Burger Gashat.

“What?”

“Take it,” Kuroto held it closer, “It won’t do me any good. I don’t care what you do with it.”

“But… why?” Mu couldn’t understand. Mu couldn’t understand a lot recently.

Kuroto just shakes his head, “Burgermon had to be gotten rid of, but the Gashat doesn’t really matter,” He walks back over to his desk. “Now I’m going to figure out what’s wrong with your Gashat.”

---

Mu wasn’t supposed to be at Gemn Corp right now, he knew he wasn’t, but he just. He had something he needed to do. He still felt bad about what had happened earlier.

He peeks into the office that Tsukuru worked in, seeing an nearly empty room, save for Tsukuru who quietly and slowly typed at his keyboard.

“Um, Mr. Tsukuru?” He called out, watching as Tsukuru looked up at him, “Um… I know you probably don’t… want to see me. But, um, I have something for you.”

Reaching into his pocket, Mu enters the room and holds out the Ju Ju Burger Gashat, keeping a distance as he hands it to Tsukuru. Tsukuru takes it, giving him a confused look. “Why?” He asked.

“We don’t need it,” Mu answered, “It’s not important for the game, so I think you should have it.”

Tsukuru looked at the Gashat, then back at Mu, “I see, thank you.”

Wasting no time in leaving, Mu quickly returns to his and Kuroto’s hideout, not wanting anyone else to see that he’d been at Gemn Corp. When he gets back, he can hear Kuroto talking, “Yes,” He sighed, “I understand.” He must have been on the phone.

As Mu quietly enters the room, it becomes clear that Kuroto had just finished his phone call. Immediately, Mu can tell that something’s wrong.

“Is something wrong?” Mu asked, catching Kuroto’s attention.

Kuroto shakes his head, “No, no, I’m fine,” though it’s not entirely convincing, Mu doesn’t ask farther.

It’s really not his business.

#kamen rider ex aid #kamen rider exaid #kamen rider #there is a me who can become strong #my writing

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amberfawzy · 3 years

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Un-expecting the Expected | Para

Featuring: Miguel & Amber Hernandez (with Alexandre Reyes & Dr. Zoie Barlowe; mentions of Sofia & Demetri Hernandez) Location: Pure Space, Portland, OR & Providence St. Vincent Hospital, Portland, OR Time Frame: Friday March 26 & Saturday March 27, 2021 Notes: The evening takes an unexpected turn while at a launch party for Titan

Miguel:

Even though Miguel hadn't wanted to admit it, the Spectre launch party felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. After all the work that he had done, in addition to all of the drama that had come with the lead up to the launch, it was glad that it was finally out there in the world. In a way it let him feel like he had finally won - after Apple had cost him his first marriage and almost his fourth, after he had had things stolen, even with the lawsuit, it was the first time that he really felt like he had come out on top.

And it felt fantastic.

So he let himself enjoy the party, feeling like he had accomplished so much more than just launching a new product, and with it came a joy that was rare to see in Miguel. He had worked on the speech for a week, insisting on writing it himself. And taking to the stage, he let himself take a breath before smiling out at the crowd and starting.

Amber:

The launch party was a beautiful spectacle. Amber was enjoying their time out with Miguel and celebrating his and his company's hard work and successful premiere. It wasn't lost on them that all of this was nearly derailed a handful of months ago but they were forever grateful that the truth was uncovered and that Miguel had such a damn good legal team. In addition to their pride, they were happy to have a reason to get a little dressed up and go out with Miguel one more time before the twins were born.

After a bit of mingling about the room, conversing with some of their husband's colleagues and friends, Amber decided to sit down. Their back was aching and the Braxton Hicks had started up again. Amber took it as a cue to sit down. With a hand resting on their ballooned stomach, they picked up their water glass and took long sips, watching people gradually take their own seats as the emcee prepared to introduce Miguel. Amber smiled softly over to Andre as he sat at the same table, and then they drank some more water.

Unlike past times, however, the Braxton Hicks didn't seem to subside with the water consumption. Amber tried ignoring it so that they could listen to Miguel, but the contractions were intensifying. Brows furrowing, they took a slow, deep breath while keeping their eyes on their husband. That was, until they felt a warm gush spreading fast beneath their dress. They had read about pregnant women peeing on themselves but Amber felt fairly sure that this wasn't it. Panic quickly set in as their eyes went back to Miguel, unable to shake the alarmed expression from everywhere on their face, except for the smile stuck on their face.

Miguel:

It was hard to look out at the crowd, the lights were bright, and truthfully it took awhile for his eyes to adjust. So he focused on his speech, the tablet that he had it up on, and once he was used to the atmosphere, Amber.

They were in one of the few seats that Miguel could see, and at first he could only see their smile. And then the next time he looked, it seemed almost as if Amber was in pain. Though with the Braxton-Hicks and the fact that the twins could easily be kicking somewhere uncomfortable. But the third time that Miguel looked at his wife, it was clear that something was wrong. They didn't tend to stay uncomfortable this long and the way that their eyes looked, it just made Miguel worry.

Which the fact that it was during his speech just made it all too real.

Miguel had to find a stopping point, which wasn't easy, and reluctantly went into an ending that seemed rushed, but still wrapped things up. At least the best that he could. And as the applause walked him off the stage, he immediately went over to Amber. "Are you alright?"

Amber:

Before Miguel's speech had swiftly concluded, the pain had steadily subsided but Amber was sure that this wasn't Braxton Hicks, and she was becoming more and more sure that she hadn't accidentally peed herself. With the panic pretty firmly set in and wheels trying to turn in her mind, she tried to think of the best plan of action while drawing the least amount of attention to herself; here and now was about Titan.

While everyone applauded Miguel for his speech, Amber's expression finally fell as she exhaled, cradling her large pregnant belly. She made herself take a few deep breaths and when Miguel approached and checked on her, her voice hiked up an octave from its usual tone while she gave a few small shakes of her head. She kept the volume of her voice relatively low, "Nope! Nope, mm-mm, no. Either I've peed myself or my water broke, and I'm pretty sure it's the latter. And I'm pretty sure I've been having contractions tonight. Like real deal, non-Braxton Hicks."

During Amber's response to Miguel, Andre made his way over from the other side of the table and caught the tail end of what Amber was saying. He picked up on what was going on and said, mostly to Miguel, "I can take you both to the hospital, or I can stay here and cover for you. Whatever you need."

Miguel:

It took Miguel a few seconds to comprehend what was happening - especially that the twins had decided that NOW was the best time to come. Mentally he ran through everything else that there was supposed to happen that night, assigning what could be done to various people on the staff. Did he like it? Not really, he had been looking forward to this night ever since things with Apple ended in his favor.

But at the same time, he was excited for the babies and finally getting to meet them that for once delegating wasn't as hard as it usually was for him.

"I can get people to cover for me, I can text them from the car. Plus Mari is here and she did enough with me when we were married that she'll make sure to keep everything going. But I think driving us would be the biggest help," Miguel nodded, squeezing Amber's hand.

Amber:

While Andre and Miguel figured out next steps, Amber was rushing through a moment of anxiousness. Were they ready for this? It didn't really matter, since the twins were already exercising their independence. Until now, in their mind, they still had another couple of days before the twins were to arrive, but now that it was just a bit sooner--and starting tonight of all nights--Amber had to speed up their preparedness.

With Miguel accepting Andre's offer to drive them to the hospital, Amber returned the squeeze to their hand and took another deep breath. They picked up their clutch and carefully raised to their feet, offering their husband a brief smile. "I guess these two wanted to see what all the fun tonight was about, huh?" Keeping their hand in Miguel's and staying at his side, they followed Andre through the venue with as convincing a look of calm as they could muster while they passed guests by.

When the cool outside air hit them however and Andre approached a valet attendant to get his car, Amber dropped the calm facade, shoulders drooping slightly while the pain of the contractions started to swell again, starting across their back and swiftly gripping across their front. Before the pain could become too unbearable, Amber said, "We don't have any of our stuff. Should we stop at home first?"

Miguel:

Miguel chuckled at Amber's words, though really he had to wonder if that had something to do with it. He knew that there were some things that had a tendency to set off labor, and Miguel wondered if excitement had anything to do with it. Though while he was curious, he figured that was something that he could look up after everything was over.

There were much more important things to think about.

As the contraction hit, Miguel squeezed Amber's hand, not really sure what they needed to get through it. Sofia had been induced, so everything there had a schedule, this was completely different and in the process Miguel found himself thinking probably a little too much. "I don't think so, we can have Sofia pick up our stuff later. Or Andre can pick it up after he drops us off at the hospital, he has a key."

Amber:

Hearing Miguel chuckle helped keep a light smile on Amber's face for a bit. They used thoughts about pleasant things like that--Miguel's laugh whenever he found something funny, Demetri's genuine excitement when he did well in school, the fun they and Sofia shared at their cooking class the other month--to try and help them through the growing return of labor pain while waiting for the valet. Amber leaned a bit into Miguel, teeth pressed together as the contraction crescendoed. Their grip on Miguel's hand was tight and as they forced themself to exhale, a small groan escaped. "Hooooooooo...yeah, this is..." They couldn't think of a word to describe the feeling but about a minute after the contraction started, the pain was subsiding again, just in time as Andre's Range Rover was parked on the curb in front of them. Andre was quick to retrieve the keys and moved fast to set the car's navigation system for the hospital.

"It's a good thing I didn't drive the Corvette tonight," he commented lightheartedly, settling in the driver's seat and prepared to leave the moment Amber and Miguel were ready to go. Thankfully it looked like it wouldn't be a very long ride for the expecting couple. "Et oui, I can call Sofia and work out a plan to get your things to you as soon as possible."

Amber nodded while getting in the car, thankful to be sitting down again after getting the seat belt around their belly, they rested their head on Miguel's shoulder for the duration of the ride to the hospital, giving his hand a more tender squeeze than before. After gently reminding him, "Don't forget to text Meredith," Amber soon added, "I'm excited that we'll get to meet the twins tonight or tomorrow, but I'm sorry about your speech, hon. I know this was already a big night for you."

Miguel:

Miguel tried not to wince with how hard that Amber was squeezing his hand, because no matter how hard this hurt whatever Amber was feeling was probably worse.

"Thanks, I would appreciate that. Sofia's still inside too, so she might figure out something's going on before you get ahold of her," Miguel warned, as he sat in the car next to Amber.

"Right, thank you," Miguel said, pulling out his phone as he sent a text to Meri as well as everyone else he figured that he should let know, "I'm excited to meet them too, and don't worry about it. I'm glad that we're going to meet the twins too. So it's still going to be a big night."

Amber:

Andre nodded, peeling away from the curb and heading straight for the hospital. “We will handle it. You two focus on your little ones."

During the ride, Amber focused on breathing as steadily as possible. Only one other contraction hit during the trip to the hospital but this time, they tried not to squeeze the life out of Miguel's hand, opting instead to ball their fingers into a tight fist, nails digging firmly into their palms.

Just as Andre pulled up to the entrance, the pain faded again. Amber thanked Andre repeatedly for his help and then scooted out of the back seat with Miguel so they could get checked in at the Labor and Delivery ward.

Some time later, the two were brought to a delivery room where Amber was given a gown to change into; they were hooked up to an IV and monitors while Miguel was given paperwork to fill out. They were checked on for their progress and then given some privacy before the next round of being checked in on. Now laying in a mostly reclined hospital bed with ambient music playing low in the room, Amber spoke to their husband in between the pain and spikes in discomfort. "Can you do me a favor? If any of the nurses tries to ask me something during a contraction like nurse whatsherface kept doing, can you tell them to kindly put a sock in it until I can actually answer them?"

Miguel:

Getting to the hospital had been a big help for Miguel. He had calmed down on the car ride, and everything else once they got to the hospital had been things he had prepared for.

So his primary focus was Amber and making sure that they had everything they needed to be comfortable. He chuckled at their words, especially when he had noticed the nurse doing that. "Gladly, I'm not quite sure how she didn't notice what she was doing," he commented, "Do you need anything else? Water? Ice chips? Pudding that I am considering stealing?"

Amber:

Although Amber knew that labor wasn't going to be easy, knowing and experiencing it were entirely different, as she was discovering. She was nearly dilated enough for the epidural but not quite when they arrived, and she'd hoped that it would progress for her to get it soon. About an hour after their arrival, Andre had returned with the bag she and Miguel packed for this very occasion, and after briefly checking in on the couple once more, he headed out with a promise to return if they needed anything else.

Deeply thankful that she wasn't going through this experience entirely alone, she nodded at Miguel's words and only briefly thought over his question before saying, "Ice chips sound nice. But steal the pudding too." Another contraction started soon after she answered him, and to avoid squeezing Miguel's hand, Amber made very focused efforts to clench her fists and spread her fingers back and forth through the pain. She tried to remember to breathe but found herself holding her breath often instead.

Miguel:

Miguel nodded as he helped Amber through the contraction - only for the nurse to come back in and start talking almost as if on cue. "Can you please stop talking for a moment," Miguel asked, using the voice that Sofia called his "CEO voice" that had the tendency to command attention. And as it expected it worked. "If you would pay attention, you'd be able to tell that Amber's in the middle of a contraction and they aren't really up for answering questions. So we would both appreciate it if you would wait until after it was over and they'd be more than happy to answer then."

It seemed to work, as Miguel turned back to his wife to coach Amber through the rest of the contraction. "Okay, I'm going to go get the ice and the pudding now while the nurse is in here," he said once things started to settle down.

Amber:

Though Amber had heard Miguel address the incoming nurse, Amber only partially heard his words as they worked through the contraction. Thankful though that the nurse heeded his words, Amber put their full focus back on breathing and repeatedly flexing their hands until the pain was more tolerable. They opened their eyes and left them open, looking to Miguel and nodding with gratitude in their gaze, "Okay," and gently squeezed his forearm before he departed from the room.

Not long after speaking with the nurse, the doctor came in and checked on Amber, delivering the news they had been waiting to hear ever since arriving; things had progressed enough for them to get the epidural. That process in itself was unpleasant but much to Amber's relief, once everything had been done and the anesthesia started to kick in, they were far more at ease for the long hours that followed.

As the night went on, Amber talked a bit to Miguel, imagining what features the twins might inherit. Eventually, they were overcome by sleep and managed to get a little more than a couple of hours of light rest collectively, on and off before night turned early morning. The doctor came to periodically check on them again after they were awake to see how far their labor progressed. Amber managed another nap of sorts, late in the morning but not long after they awoke again, their doctor returned once more.

A new wave of anxiousness washed over them, waking them right back up again however, when the doctor informed them and Miguel that, after roughly 14 hours of being in the hospital, Amber was fully dilated and it was going to be time to start pushing soon. While the doctor spoke to the three nurses who had suddenly joined her in preparing for the delivery, Amber reached out for Miguel's hand, "Oh my god. This is it. This is.. it's about to happen," Amber said, their voice an uneven mix of excitement and obvious nervousness.

Miguel:

Miguel had always known that labor was a game of hurry up and wait. When Andre had come with their bags, he'd changed into a new set of clothes. And from there, there wasn't much else to do. He supported Amber, he napped when they did, and overall he just tried to imagine what it was going to be like once the babies came.

It was true, he was a lot older than he was the first time around, but he had experience, and it really had come to realize how much he had wanted more kids than only Sofia. Sure, life decided to make him wait for two decades before he got the chance to actually get there, but it was well worth the wait.

He squeezed Amber's hand as the doctor told them that it was almost time to push. "It is. You're going to do great," he stated, giving Amber a quick kiss on the head, "Just breathe with me, and squeeze my hand, and it'll all be fine," he assured them.

Amber:

Amber softly smiled to Miguel and gave a brief squeeze to his hand when he'd lovingly assured her. Nodding, Amber affirmed, "Okay. I've got this. We've got this," and set her mind to what she knew she would have to do from here. It didn't take long after that for the nurses to position Amber's feet out of the stirrups while Dr. Barlowe began coaching Amber, instructing her to bear down and push during contractions while she, the doctor, counted. Holding onto Miguel's hand while her other hand gripped the hospital bed's side rail, Amber dropped her chin to her chest, squeezed her eyes shut and, upon command from the doctor, began to push.

She very quickly lost count of how many times she had pushed or how much time had passed since the delivery started. Despite the doctor's encouragement and reassurance that she was doing a good job, Amber felt the anxiousness and excitement transforming into exhaust and frustration. Still being numbed from the epidural, she could only rely on those around her to know what was going on. Tears pricked at her eyes and blurred her vision as she pushed through yet another contraction. This time, however, relief and steady praise soon fell over the room as a small weight was placed on Amber's stomach and chest. She opened her eyes and saw one of the nurses quickly rubbing the back and clearing the mouth and nostrils of a tiny, dark-haired newborn.

"One down, one to go, Amber, good job! Take a minute and then we'll get you're other little one out here with her sister," she heard Dr. Barlowe say as Amber's head fell back against the pillow behind her. Tears streamed freely but she quickly wiped them away and brought her free hand to their firstborn twin's back at the same time that tiny chipmunk-like trills passed through the newborn's pink, plump lips. "Oh my God, hiii," Amber quietly cooed. She squeezed Miguel's hand and watched as the nurse wrapped the little girl in a blanket and carried her off to a nearby bassinet while Dr. Barlowe asked Miguel if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord. "We're gonna get her sister out here soon. It should be a lot easier this time around, Amber." to which Amber gave a sigh of relief, "Thank goodness," and wearily smiled, ready to take hold of Miguel's hand again and bring their next child into the world with some renewed energy filling her.

As Dr. Barlowe had said, the second go around had been an easier, or at least, shorter labor than the first time. Some eight minutes after the first baby had been born, her sister joined the world. Instead of the quiet little trills, however, she exercised her lungs, seemingly to their full capacity once her mouth and nose were cleared of fluids. "Congratulations Amber and Miguel," Dr. Barlowe said to both parents before inviting Miguel to cut the second umbilical cord over at the bassinet while she helped Amber through the afterbirth and cleaning up from the delivery.

Miguel:

There was nothing like the birth of a child - Miguel had thought that when Sofia was born and he thought the same thing now. There was something miraculous about it, seeing life get to come into the world at the start. And now he got to see it twice over with their daughters.

And as the first of the two came, a giant smile came to his face as Miguel looked over her features. He teared up a bit, blinking to not let the tears fall as he squeezed Amber's hand back, before going to cut the girl's umbilical cord. He used the moment to stroke the girl's face, and really look over her features.

"She's beautiful," Miguel smiled as he walked back over to Amber's side, preparing to meet the second twin. It was like everything happened all over again, though the second girl wanted to make her presence known to the world in a way that the man could already tell that she was going to have a huge personality. "You're going to be a problem, I can already tell," Miguel whispered to the girl, with a teasing smile before cutting the second cord. He then took a picture to send to Sofia and Demetri, letting them know that the twins were there. "You did great," Miguel smiled at Amber, once the picture sent.

Amber:

Both girls were here. Amber was filled to the brim with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. As Dr. Barlowe and one of the nurses finished tending to the afterbirth and cleanup, Amber wiped their eyes and thanked everyone in the room who helped bring the twins into the world. Their eyes then moved back and forth between the two bassinets, briefly catching the tender moment between Miguel and their youngest; a soft smile came to Amber's face at the sight.

When Miguel came back to Amber's side, they reached and squeezed his forearm with tender pressure. "Thanks, hon," and then looked back over as both girls were now crying, though the second was still noticeably louder than her older sister. The nurses were getting their measurements and finishing their initial exam before the girls could be given to their parents for skin-to-skin bonding. In what felt like an eternity later, the room was being cleared of the nurses while Dr. Barlowe carried one twin over to Amber first, and then the youngest twin to Miguel.

"The girls look healthy and are at a healthy weight for twins. We'll give you guys some time in here to bond, and then a couple of the nurses will move you and the twins up to a recovery room where you'll stay until you're discharged. Those rooms are smaller but there's more amenities in them. One of the pediatricians will come there to check on the girls periodically, to make sure they are both ready to be discharged when the time comes. Congratulations again, both of you."

With one of the twin's tiny cheeks resting against a bare space beneath Amber's chin, they softly replied, "Thank you so much, Zoie. I really can't say that enough." They smiled while giving feather light strokes of their fingertips to the the newborn's back, and then, not long after the four were alone, Amber turned carefully their head in Miguel's direction, keeping their voice low for the girls' sake while smiling to their husband, "You know, we have to figure out who's who here."

Miguel:

Miguel nodded at the nurse as he held the youngest girl close. It was surreal as he touched her, and watched Amber with the other baby. They were here, and they were perfect, and it was exactly what Miguel had been hoping for. "You know we could name #1 Isobel and #2 Jessamine just to keep it in alphabetical order," he commented, rocking the crying girl, "It seems kind of like the logical way to go about it."

Amber:

Amber gave a playful roll of her eyes at her husband, still smiling through his answer. "Leave it to you to go the logical route with naming our kids." She softly chuckled and continued to gently stroke their eldest twin's back. After mulling over his answer, she said, "But it beats calling them Baby A and Baby B." Shifting the position of the baby in her arms, she was able to tilt her chin down a bit and then said, "So I guess that means I've got you in my arms, Isobel," and smiled right up through softly kissing the top of her dark-haired crown. "Happy birthday, Isobel," she whispered.

Miguel:

"Well, I've always been logical," Miguel chuckled, kissing the top of Jessamine's head, "Though I have to say I'm pretty sure it was little miss Jessamine who decided to interrupt my speech earlier. It seems like something that would be her idea."

Amber:

With a small hum, Amber noted, "You have a creative side too. I'd say that both come with the territory of being at the head of a successful tech company." They watched Miguel and Jessamine and grinned again, giggling a bit at Miguel's assertion, "Probably, given how much she wanted to be heard when she was born. Maybe she was hoping to give her daddy a few pointers." While keeping as much skin-to-skin with Isobel, Amber had their eyes on their husband and youngest, adding a, "Happy birthday, Jessamine," in before saying, "I can't believe they're here now. They're both just the tiniest babies I've ever seen."

About an hour after they were given some skin-to-skin time, the nurses came in, preparing to transport the family the floor above to recovery. Isobel and Jessamine were swaddled and placed back in their individual bassinets, each baby being wheeled out by a nurse while a third nurse maneuvered Amber's hospital bed behind the twins to an elevator. The room they were taken to wasn't too far from the elevator, and after hooking Amber back to the monitors in the new room and making sure the family was settled and shown where to find everything in the room, in the nurses cleared out yet again to give the newly grown family some privacy for the time being.

#Unexpecting the Expected para #M Hernandez

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theholycovenantrpg · 3 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, PHOEBE! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF SALOME.

Admin Rosey: This was incredibly difficult. Both applications were stunning and shined in the limelight - but there were these small details, Phoebe, that you included that had us absolutely captivated. Salome, I think, is a difficult character to encompass so wholly while not overlooking the details. But you managed to do that, to tie her all together while not putting her in a package. The application was such a joy to read from beginning to end - the way that you tied so many different characters into her, into her future. It was an absolute thrill to read because I was able to see so much while still being tantalized by possibilities. I can’t wait to see how Salome shines on the dash! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Phoebe

Age | 22

Personal Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | Pretty active (6/10?) due to a national lockdown, but I’m a postgrad student so some days are busier than others.

Timezone | GMT

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group? | I check out the ‘new rpg’ tag a few times a year & your graphics and then everything drew me in

Current/Past RP Accounts | Masha Vetrova @ ProchnostRPG

IN CHARACTER

Character | SALOME

What drew you to this character? | Typically I tend to go for characters who have a fundamental moral alignment of ‘good’ (even if it’s been a bit corrupted) so at first I was really drawn to Gabriel/Abaddon/Isolde. I even brainstormed them a bit before moving onto the demon bios.

But then I read Salome’s bio, and I really couldn’t get her out of my mind. There is something so delicious about her, so dastardly poetic. In a way, she’s as pure of heart as many morally good characters - patient, steadfast, true to herself. It’s just that her heart is a blackened one. A nature so rotted that even eternal damnation in Hell’s Abyss was not enough. The only fitting destiny was a demonic one, and the wings tore out of her body as if they’d been there, dormant, all along.

I know the story of Salome (thanks Oscar Wilde) & I just adore the way in which the bio weaves the biblical story into this world and this character. Salome the Temptress, unflinching as she demands the head of John the Baptist and damns all around her to Hell. This one line in particular from Rosey really, really captured it all for me:

No, the minute her mortal heart stopped beating and she opened her eyes to the fires of Hell, there was only laughter to be heard – pouring from her lips as melodic as a lark’s song, a stark contrast to the wailing and grinding of teeth.

Salome feels young and charming and spoiled and light and warm and content and this image - her descending into Hell, disrupting it with her peals of laughter - sums it all up. She is arrogant and uninhibited with her sins plain for all to see. But she is also clever. She is a girl who dances with the dead; demon through and through. She lets them openly see it so that they do not think to look closer. For if they did, surely they would see Salome was more damned than they’d ever envisioned? See that the open delight she projects - the laughter and fevered dancing, - all distract from a mind capable of cold, calm strategy? See that her hands are beautiful because they are stained with the first blood of this new world?

…All of which is to say that Salome the Temptress has worked that tempting magic of hers on me too - hook, line and sinker.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If it serves your guys’ plotting vision then absolutely! I’d just ask to write the death scene/have some say in the way it went down. (The person killing her off better be prepared for the fight of their lives).

FUTURE PLOT IDEAS

• (small) PLEASURES •

Grand plans and power grabs are all very well, but day to day (on the dash lol) Salome is ruled by small pleasures and indulgences. What was the point of forging this new world if not to luxuriate in it?

01. I’m very curious to see how her relations with all the other demons play out. Salome is by and large a solitary creature - the natural result of her arrogance - but I think there are some demons she favours more than others. I could see a potential friendship (or the lesser version of that bond) with ORIAS, for one. There were those who saw something akin to witchcraft in Salome too. There had been envy, when Orias was hailed the Original Witch, but even Salome has come to recognise the ungodly power that resides in them. They are one of the only creatures that Salome has any real respect for. She understands that there is value to learn in what Orias can teach.They call them the false prophet - it seems poetic that Salome is drawn to her. (So ! Much ! Potential ! Witchy ! Power !)

02. So too can I imagine Salome having a particular curiosity towards MAMMON. Hungry and dark and empty, Mammon is probably Salome’s demonic ideal. With mortal origins herself, they represent a different kind of demon – one she thinks is utterly beautiful. Their future ambitions could align, both with a deep, aching appetites, but I can also see her purely enjoying the unique company of them. Salome does not treat her ability with any real respect or caution; she sees the dead as a game. think she’d genuinely delight in Mammon mimicking her gift and the amusements that could follow. (Ok not to say I’m suggesting deal body party games but it’s very that)

03. Salome gets equal pleasure (if not a great deal more) from less-than-friendly relations. She pushes purely because other people’s irritation amuses her. I think her relationship with AZAZEL in particular could be very, very fun. Of all the demons, I can see Salome having a particularly petty dislike / jealousy of Azazel for a few many reasons.. A) they are both products of indulgence, daughters of parents (literally and figuratively) who spoiled them rotten. Similarities repel and all that. B) Azazel is part of the de facto royal family, favoured by JUDAS.. and DAMIEN .. and ABADDON .. and Salome has not ever handled that well. She watched on as they, along with the rest of hell, fell for her and thus a time-old grudge was born. C) Azazel forms part of the Holy Land’s rulership. A land that was won because of Salome (in her mind) and one she feels has rights of ownership too. I imagine that Salome genuinely despises that the role was given to Azazel of all demons. I - I just sense so many great opportunities for both bickering and battling.

04. Salome draws great pleasure from her own magnetism. Devotion has followed her throughout the stages of her life, but it too has come to wax and wane. It is there in BASTIEN though, and it’s one of the connections I’m most excited for. He satisfies her addiction, and in return she is both doting and cruel. There is some value in him politically, bu it’i more of a .. personal connection. That could change though. Or, perhaps a genuine fondness might develop, in the same way that other celestial beings seem to be fond of their animal companions. A muted form of possessiveness over his gaze and his wonderment (which may well manifest in Salome having a particular resentment towards EVANGELINE) . If he were to share out his devotion, or if it was curtailed by any harm coming to Bastien himself, Salome would not be happy. Perhaps his attentions have come to somewhat satiate her appetite and tentatively restrains her darkest needs - a fact that neither of them have realised. (!!!!!)

• (medium) OPPORTUNITIES •

05. There are some things she keeps to herself - at least for now. There’s a lot of potential for self-paras or connections with the wider RP plot. To me, Salome has something akin to true addiction inside of her. It was there from the moment of her mortal birth, and it worsened with each hit. Essentially, I think an inescapable plot point is that Salome is a lil’ bit bloodthirsty. I think this would largely be developed through my own musings and mortals who are just ‘extras’ to this RP, but I’d love to deal with the intricacies of Salome having to cover this habit. Maybe she continues to use others as scapegoats; maybe she chooses her victims with careful attention so that they go unnoticed; maybe she does it in such a way that implies the presence of a beast or daemonium.

( In fact, the concept of the DAEMONIUM is verrrrrrrrrry intriguing. Creates who inhabit corpses and do nothing but feed their hunger? Sounds like a character I know. This is a potential plot point that relies on your guys’ vision and some collaborative world-building, but I think there is definitely exciting potential to explore these creatures through Salome. Imagine the carnage of her trying (successfully or unsuccessfully) to out-possess them.)

06. I think Salome would take any opportunity to poison Infernum’s highest-ranking. This isn’t so much be her political ‘end-goal’, but an opportunity for some real entertainment. It would be a game, try and crack the kinship that exists among AZAZEL, JUDAS, DAMIEN and ABADDON; injecting a few words here, a few doubts there, and see if their loyalty lasts.. She knows Judas from a past life and has watched him oh so carefully overtheir many entwined centuries - I imagine she is a gnat to him, pushing all the right (and thus wrong) buttons. It would a sport to try and make his familial dynasty crumble. Perhaps she might attempt this by throwing doubt on to Abaddon in particular, whose aura contains a flatness that Salome cannot read. Salome doesn’t know of the goodness that lies in her, but perhaps she might find out. Regardless, I think Salome’s worst imaginable fate would be being locked in the Black Cells, unable to dance and revel in the world, so she harbours dislike for Abaddon anyway…

07. EPHEMERA is an opportunity that Salome had not anticipated. And let me tell you, boy do I adore this connection. It strikes me as a true clashing of teeth and spirits, but not as simple as one born from pure malice or hatred. Salome feels many things towards Ephemera, but she certainly doesn’t hate her - even if the ferocity between them implies otherwise sometimes. There’s a thin line between love and hate, as they say, though perhaps neither of those terms sum up Salome an Ephemera. It seems to be pure passion and temptation. I can’t say where this could lead without the thoughts of a possible Ephemera writer, but I’m sure it will be nothing short of explosive. I think this connection is the most Salome has ever felt towards another being, and that in itself is curious to her.

• (great) AMBITIONS •

The possible destinies of Salome. The following are all ways in which her story could play out, and all of them are quite dramatic. Who’s afraid of the big, bad plots….

08. Infernum technically has no throne. In order to thus claim it, perhaps one first has to be built? Salome would have no qualms choosing a side in another demonic cvil war. Why, if DAMIEN were to stake the claim of his birthright against JUDAS, he could count on Salome for support. If Judas were to live up to his title and betray the antichrist, he could count on Salome for support - if he got there before the other. Salome will happily help them consolidate a throne through bloodshed and betrayal. In fact, it will be her pleasure.

For through it all, Salome will be the demon who has thought to use MICHAEL. They are insufferable and righteous and (quite literally) archangel incarnate - really, if she had the chance, she knows that their blood would be the most utterly divine to spill - but they are useful. Undeniably powerful. Salome knows she must be careful here, but she enjoys the undisguised exasperation on their face. As if they have not yet thought to recognise the ambition that lies in both of them. If they helped her ascend to the throne of Infurnem, she would be a far more acquiescent to Caelum’s interests than the current leadership. Why? Because Salome would not act - would not even pretend to act - on behalf of demonic interests. If the best chance of her claiming ownership of the world depended on sharing it with Michael, then perhaps she would be willing.

09. But power can manifest in more than one way. She could follow such dreams, or she could become the world’s nightmares. And wouldn’t that be more indulgent? Where others hold power or peace as their prime ambition, Salome would get equal pleasure from the simple decay of all things. The world could rot and she would laugh - the dead are often better company than the living. Ultimately Salome would start another war without hesitation; she would sacrifice everything and everyone for the beautiful carnage of utter destruction. It had been so easy with the War of the Last Rites, but she had been disappointed when it ended in peace. That will not happen again; she will be ready next time. When all factions are suitably engaged, she will raise her own force and strike them all down together. — Such are her thoughts anyway. Thoughts that started developing when she met RYUK. To her, the power Ryuk holds is breathtaking. There is no other ability she desires quite as much. For if she were to contain both of their powers within herself, she would have dominion over a force so great that no living creature - mortal or immortal - could ever hope to defeat. The dead. It is a delicate strategy, but she has the patience for it. And if there was any who would spill the blood of a horseman just to see what happened, then it would surely be Salome.

10. Where there are mortals, there is faith. The relationship between Salome and the faith of the HUNDRED-EYED GOD intrigues me. In her mortal life, faith was an amusement. Its believers has been her playthings - perhaps they are again in this world. ISOLDE is as all prophets are; tempting. I think that Salome could potentially decide to join the faith – or give the impression to do so. Such a deceit would be fun and far from difficult - already she joins in on their rituals, her feet unable to stay away from any form of rhythmic movement, even ones more gentle than her usual tastes. A demon of relative influence, perhaps her faith would be welcomed amongst those most holy, perceived as a positive development in the faith’s recruitment. Perhaps she finds a currently unknown fellowship in the form of ESTIENNE, whose manipulation of the shadows surely speaks of some rot in his heart.

And all for one simple reason. Where there is faith, there are the faithful. Where there is the faithful, there is the potential for bloodshed so rich - so intoxicating - that she would play this long, patient game just to taste a singular drop. She has never been able to recreate the electrification of that first diabolical deed, when she claimed a saint’s head as her prize. She had danced and damned and thirsted ever since; the blood of an ALL-SEEING PRIESTESS might just quench such a need.

• (potential) DOWNFALLS •

Ah, but all of the above are just potential ideas. It is just as likely that Salome would be subject to some downfalls and some .. rude awakenings. I adore the fact that both MICHAEL and RYUK have such different perceptions of their connections. They are both far smarter than she gives credit. Michael is, ultimately, more powerful than Salome on more ways than one - they will surely outplay her as they have everyone, though she might be of some use to them too. In Ryuk, Salome has started a war she might live to regret - one she hasn’t even realised she’s fighting. She has perhaps been a little naive here, and it will be quite something when she realises.

There are other possible connections that could prove Salome’s downfall – or at least a be a hindrance. In my mind, it is GABRIEL, ZADKIEL and CAPHRIEL that she is most weary of. They each have a light to them that she does not care for, along with the arrogance present in all angels. I say in the following section that Salome has no fears; they represent the closest thing she has to possible concerns. I don’t think she yet knows any of them particularly well outside of the War, but she has thought of their powers. The latter two in particular harbour gifts that could, potentially, expose Salome, and thus she has developed a specific distaste for them. And of course, she probably finds them particularly fun to antagonise.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | [TW: Implied suicide in section I ]

I think a large part of my attraction to Salome is that she isn’t really driven by an external force. Partly she is driven by the deep appetite within her (which I’ve mentioned more in other parts of this application) but I also think her motivations stem from her own intrinsic nature; she is pushed by her own heart towards ambitions that are mere extensions of her character. I think there are three central aspects of her character that best explain her motivations and actions: a complete lack of fear, an overwhelming self-adoration and a deep, petulant intolerance of monotony. Together, they’ve created a woman - a demon - amply motivated to do any of the above listed plot ideas.. One who simply does as she wants for no reason other than want itself. Below I’ve given three early examples (set in BP) of these traits taking root (and rot):

I • For what use is fear to those who are damned?

It was said that Jesus’ tomb lay empty. Through the wind Salome heard whispers of women who’d gone to mourn and found nothing - only stone and airwhere a pierced and bloodied body should have lain. It seemed the proclaimed child of God had evaded corporeal death yet again; that the words of the old, tiresome preacher whose head she once cradled had proved true. Their claims and their preachings were not false as her father had accused - but really, had not Salome always known that? Was it not she who had delivered John’s salvation, cast him up to his venerated Heaven? And as it happened - as both the head and the soul of John his body - had not she felt her own moment of pure, divine bliss?

It brought clarity; there was no hesitation in her now. She stood alone, looking out upon the depths of the Galilee Sea with an unconfined grin spread wide upon her face. She had known, always known, that the boredom of this life was only temporary. The adoration she received on earth had grown dull, she sought new, greater opportunities for her talents. There had existed a deep craving inside for as long as she could remember, one that had become increasingly difficult to satiate. It told her that her destiny lay outside of Heaven, that both the prophet and her father the king had been right to look upon her with fear. For if John and Jesus had ascended upwards, could she not leap down into her own descent? The idea of it felt so simple, so natural, so potentially powerful. Neither death nor the the promise of damnation brought her anything but intrigue. She thought of the wicked and the cruel, of the infernal depths to which she was bound, and felt only satisfied.

Mortal though she was, Salome was not afraid. Why should she fear her own destiny? Why should she fear for those she left behind? Fear had no place in a heart without hope. With a simple step, she threw herself into the icy water and waited to reach the blackest depths below.

II • For what use is love to those who are satisfied?

Where there was Salome there was laughter - her own, that was - sharp, loud and melodic. When she first opened her mouth it had sliced through Hell and turned all of its eyes onto her. Rightly so, for she she had laughed as she’d evaded Abaddon’s grasp, clawing herself out of the Abyss of mortal souls and claiming a rightful place in the depths of Hell. The Morningstar, sat above all, had not yet even spoken when Salome had started to dance.

She could feel Hell’s eyes on her, and what better way to greet such attentions than with that she did best. She had reaped rich rewards for it before, and she would do so again. A fleeting glance at her naked body showed her this realm had not dulled her beauty but made magnified it, her skin aglow with the fiery light of hellfire. And so Salome danced, feverishly but deliberately, losing herself in the spirit of the moment. What could anyone do but simply bask in the splendor of her new existence? As she raised her arms above her head, a pair of wings cut through her flesh and slowly tore out of her. Iridescent, they unfurled as if they too had felt the call of her movement.

A feast of celebration had followed. Salome could only laugh in delight as she looked upon demonic faces of adoration, gazes more alike than different to those she had received on earth. Seated at the left-hand of Lucifer himself, she had slotted into the natural order of Hell as if it had been her descent that had been prophesied on earth. How many in Hell, with all its angelic origins, had the blood of a true holy man on their hands? Perhaps just herself – and, she supposed, the man sat to the right of the Prince. Judas Iscariot. The Great Betrayer. A man she had known of in her mortality, a follower who’d wrought a downfall more entertaining than any Salome had otherwise witnessed. He looked on at her with a hard glint in his eyes and she merely smiled back - for Salome understood why. Here she was, a fellow mortal in Hell with infernal wings protruding from her back where Judas had none. It all made such perfect sense; Salome was truly different. Truly transcendent. Made and marked by forces darker then most of Hell could stand. In that moment (and all moments thereafter), Salome was acutely aware of the true power that resided within her, spilling out through her beauty, allure and wretched talents. Why, she was utterly glorious.

III • For what use is peace to those who are bored?

Eternity stretched out in front of her; memories of the wouldn’t fade. Of all the differences between immortal and mortal existence, it was only the nature of time that had ever frustrated her. To Salome, the centuries had passed by in both unfathomable speed and agonising monotony, the linearity of earth dead and gone. It seemed that in the face of an infinite future, even Hell could drag. It operated in a stasis that had begun to suffocate her and, gradually, had awakened once again an appetite that had only been temporally satiated. Lucifer dictated balance and moderation where Salome saw no reason for restraint. He had given her duties like none earth had ever dared, and she didn’t care to fulfil them. She had even grown tired of her puppetry, tired of dancing amongst such frustratingly passive bodies. There was, in a place of corruption, nobody left to actually corrupt; no opportunity to taste innocent or holy blood.

Over time she came to sense the quiet seeds of unrest in Hell, and she was gladdened by them. Once again a wicked smile graced her face, once again she twirled around the pits of Hell in anticipation. There was no better cure for boredom than chaos, and once she’d caught the scent of it her hunt could not be stopped. It had proven easy to have the whispers diverted and delivered to her ears - so many were under her spell, either terrified or infatuated. So Salome came to learn of plans of razing Hell against its master, ripping through worldly divides and claiming the earth she once lived on. At last - she could have wept from delight. And most entertaining of all, Salome had snatched the dice into her her hands.

How easy it would be to join the dissenters, to war with them against the order of Hell that had shackled her. How tempting it was, to dash their plans by raising her own blade to the Morningstar and plunging the world into carnage without warning. How fun, the thought of taking all she knew to Lucifer and laughing as he rained down revenge on the demons he had been foolish enough to trust. Impatient with monotony; patient in the face of action. Salome did not yet know what she would do, and she found utter delight in the potential of it all.

PARA SAMPLE

The Holy Land was not suited to revelry. It lacked the vitalityand decadent excessthat a true celebration required. And really, wasn’t this her domain? Nobody got more unadulterated pleasure from a celebration than Salome - she doubted that even the festivities of the Stygian Moon would be of renown without her inputs. This particular affair was proving even more tiresome than she’d foreseen. Every year she stands under the Triune Moon and watches as solemn vows are sworn; every year she wonders why they could not just be done so in private, sparing them all this tedium. She had said as much to Damien before as they had departed the comforts of the Black Palace, and had received little more than a scowl in response. But she knows her point has more merit than they’d care to admit. How long before these promises of harmony are exposed as a farce? At least that year promises some true entertainment.

Salome thinks all this as she watches the stage in front of her, eyes lazily switching between the three figures who stand upon it. The Sun, the Moon, the Stars; every pair of eyes in the sweeping crowd are trained on them. Salome can feel them. Or rather, she can’t feel the usual warmth of infatuated gazes on her own skin. Here she stood amongst hoards of mortals and beings more lowly than herself, and none were paying her their usual bouts of attention. The only thing that prevented a quiet tantrum was the knowledge that she was far from alone in feeling this agitation. Her stare flickered from the stage towards the figures of both Michael and Judas, and she could not help but smile. To eyes that had repeatedly examined them over centuries, the rigidity of their bodies betrayed them. She was far from the only one who felt the absence of centrality, and that, at least, brought her some pleasure.

Still, she only has so much patience for ceremonies not directed at her. Yet no sooner did she shift to exit the crowd than did words delivered on the stage give her pause. Azazel’s voice, suitably haughty, repeating the typical sentiments of the Holy Land. This was the ‘Age of Peace’, Salome hears her say. Only the ‘cooperation of all factions and the formation of the tridium’ had rendered them ‘triumphant against the heretics who would cast all into darkness.’ This time she cannot hold in the delicate laugh that ripples through her. If only the annual repetition of such statements made them true. If only they knew of the true origins of the War that brought this so-called peace, of where the credit should rightfully lie. Though she knows it would be foolish - more than foolish - Salome can think of nothing but how simple it would be to stand above all and confess. She’d let them savour the details of her sins and her glories. She would laugh as they wilted under the weight of her revelations.

‘I’ve never seen you look so engrossed off of the battlefield.’

Her imaginings are cut off by quiet words from behind her. She needs not turn to identify the voice of Ephemera, familiar as it has come to be. Salome had, of course, seen her across the crowd - when did her eyes start to automatically seek her out so? - but marked her presence as an occupation for later. That Ephemera sought her out first is not necessarily unexpected, but certainly thrilling. There is no other presence that can so easily bring Salome out of a petulant mood, just as there is no other who can so easily put her in one. But she has found that where there is Ephemera, there is entertainment to be had.

“You have not seen me do many things,” she replies easily, as if they had long been having this conversation, “though I do believe I’ve offered.” And she has, more than once, tried to entice her with offers of dancing and hunting and enjoying all the vices of the world they fought for. She turns her head slowly to meet the watchful gaze of her once fighting-partner, a smirk on her lips as she widens her eyes in faux-innocence. They are two alike; mortals once but mortals no more, the first of their kinds. She knows Ephemera will not rise to her bait within the presence of other Angels, which only heightens her simpering expression. Salome has no such qualms about the thoughts of her own kin; their talk excites her, their gossip only confirms how many pay her heed. She has found no simpler joy than that of walking into the Black Palace and leaving excited whispers in her wake.

“I’m sure you’ll agree that celebrating won wars is less fun than waging them’, she continues, amusement ringing clear through her voice as she returned her gage purposefully to the stage. “I asked Azazel if she might add some zeal - perhapsmake those hounds do some tricks - but she seems to have ignored my good wishes”. Salome can feel the rolling of Angelic eyes next to her without even looking. It was so easy, so predictable, and yet anything but boring. That was the real curiosity of Ephemera, so easy to reel in and yet so resistant to truly jumping off the edge. She seemed halfway caught between accepting Salome’s allure and running from it, and the resistance only increased her desire. “Though your one is the more dull, I believe. So earnest - it’s quite exhausting.”

It is clear that Ephemera is acting advisor and strategist rather than - what? Friend? Enemy? Something in between? - whichraised the question as to why she had approached her in the first place. She thinks to ask, but when she opens her mouth to do so the crowd erupts in an applause more loud than she thinks the show was worthy of. Still, she brings her own hands together for the sheer relief that it is finally over. Her feet ache from standing bored for so long, her wings want to stretch open and wide. She wonders if a large enough quantity of alcohol might loosen Ephemera a little, but when she turns to declare this she finds that her companion has disappeared in the movement of so many people. A pity, but no real matter. She has never needed the company of others to create her own sport.

EXTRAS

[ My (WIP) pinterest for Salome can be found here. ]

Salome keeps no animal companion, for she has never felt much love for the nature of the earth. She finds it amusing that some Angels and Demons belittle themselves by keeping one. However, it is not an uncommon sight to see Salome walking with crows flying above her. Only on closer inspection would one realise those animals are but corpses, a puppetry Salome (alone) finds humorous.

Like all parts of herself, she harbours great love for her wings, and not only for the damnation that they represent. They are formed of what resembles a netting of fine, golden spider’s web. They seem to constantly change in the light, appearing to be more transparent than they are solid. Regal and beautiful, they are as Salome sees herself.

She is a fierce fighter and a connoisseur of bloodshed. Her weapon of choice is a trailing point blade, forged on the day of her arrival in Hell. She uses it exclusively for more.. intimate situations, and favours instead a simple longsword on the battlefield. She is however, proficient with most weaponry, as the corpses she can make fight use the same weapons they died wielding against her.

Though Infernum is the home she helped carve out, Salome spends a great deal of time in Sanctus Terra and travels to Caelum whenever the opportunity presents itself. Both locations amplify an itch deep within her soul, worsening her desire and thereby bringing greater satisfaction when she finally acts on the urge. She has not spilled any angelic blood in Caelum, though the temptation is strong, for she knows Michael has become astute to her presence. She has left a fair few victims in Sanctus Terra, a pursuit which has become less satisfying overtime. Still, Salome is careful. For all their talk of kinship, she is not sure that her fellow demons would refrain from locking her in the Black Cells if they had just cause.

[ aaaaaaand I leave you with the last verse of ‘Salome’, a poem by Mary Lamb. I honestly can’t describe it as anything over then *chef’s kiss*. I don’t know if Rosey read this when she was writing Salome’s bio, but I thought the writing style and tone and vibe and all beautifully mirrored each other?? Stunning. On that note, regardless of whether of not you think I’m right for Salome, thank you for the obvious amount of time/thought you’ve all put into this because it’s been really (really) fun to explore. ]

When painters would by art express Beauty in unloveliness, Thee, Herodias’ daughter, thee, They fittest subject take to be. They give thy form and features grace; But ever in they beauteous face They shew a steadfast cruel gaze, An eye unpitying; and amaze In all beholders deep they mark, That thou betrayest not one spark Of feeling for the ruthless deed, That did thy praiseful dance succeed. For on the head they make you look, As if a sullen joy you took, A cruel triumph, wicked pride, That for your sport a saint had died.

#accepted #accepted: salome

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simon-pl600-501-743-923 · 4 years

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General RP style and preferences

Repost, don’t reblog. Bold what applies. Strikethrough what does not. Elaborate on any points you’d like with a *

Please be honest, we all want to find the people who work best with how we RP. ____

Types of RP / How I do threads

Plotting Preferences

| Wing it | Get a general idea ooc and then run with it & plot further if need be | Long expansive thought out story arcs* |

Type of threads I do / Prefer

Reply Speed for Threads & Consistency & Keeping threads

Romantic or sexual ships

| I don’t do these ships (specify reason if you would like) | I’m not against them happening but it is not the main point of my blog | All ships will have to be super slow burn & discussed a lot OOC, super chemistry based (ok, not all ships but I do like some sort of build up rather than instant romance unless it’s a pre-established relationship) | I love doing ships, HMU I probably already ship it just ask! | I ship really quickly* | I autoship or ship within a few interactions* | I mainly RP for the cute ship fluff or smut* |

Smut

| I do NOT do smut at all (specify reason if you’d like) | I’m very selective about it | I only do it on a separate (blog/discord/specify here) | I mainly only do asks relating to nsfw headcanons on Sundays* | I write it a medium amount* | I write it all the time and love to |

Active hours [PST]

Activity Schedule

| SUPER slow and sporadic, like once a month or so | Slow and sporadic week long gaps between activity | Bi-weeklyish activity | Weekly activity (specify if there’s a certain time you have school/work/etc. off that you are most active) | Daily activity | I’m online nearly all the time* |

Starters

| I don’t do starter calls | I want to do starter calls but often don’t have time | I do selective calls (if we’ve discussed something or we have an idea we wanna run with) | I don’t do calls, but always fee free to ask me for one! | I do starter calls rarely/regularly/often* |

AUs

| I don’t do AUs | My blog is an AU but outside of that I don’t do them | I sometimes do them but only with a lot of plotting | I have a couple of AUs already feel free to request them! | I have AUs coming out of my ears please interact with them! | I love making AUs HMU to plot if you think of one! | There are some AUs I won’t do (At least not without some convincing. I would list them but honestly it would be easier for me just to let you know if it’s a yes or no for me when you ask me about it directly.) |

Crossovers

| I don’t do crossovers (specify if you want) | I’m selective with crossovers (I can be convinced if I know and like the fandom crossing over, but it would have to be discussed first. My brain wants things to make sense and it has to be plausible in my head, as well as something I am already familiar with before I’ll even consider it.) | I love crossovers! |

Elaboration Points

* - I can do intensive plotting, but I prefer to remain flexible, so any plotting done, be it in depth or just quick overview, is never set in stone. My characters have minds of their own and sometimes they don’t stick to the plan. I find that the quality of my writing is better when I just go with the flow of things and don’t get too invested in making things work just perfectly. It’s also more fun for me when there is some spontaneity in role playing. I am a pantser (write things by the seat of my pants) at heart and that has always worked best for me and been where I thrive. That doesn’t mean I’m against plotting, just know that I consider plotting to be bouncing around potential ideas, not planning out every perfect detail.

* - One liners are harder for me because I tend to get wordy and like to elaborate. I still have fun with them sometimes if it’s just a quick little fun thing, but for more serious threads, I need more meat to the writing.

* - I have a thread tracker but sometimes things still get lost. It doesn’t happen often, but I can’t keep it from happening every now and then. I will never drop a thread without telling you, so if it’s been a hot minute since I’ve replied, just remind me (maybe send a link if I need it) and I will get to it.

* - I try to do at least some replies every day. It doesn’t always happen, but I do try.

* - Sometimes I can get to a reply pretty quickly if I’m on a roll, not always tho. This is luck of the draw.

* - Just because I see the chemistry right away doesn’t mean I like the characters to see it just as fast. I like some build up to make it realistic and find that falling in love instantly tends to just be puppy love or crushes, it’s not actual romance and it’s a bit childish in my opinion, to be perfectly honest. Give me at least a little bit of time for my muse(s) to get comfortable with yours.

* - That being said, sometimes the chemistry is just really strong and happens fast. If circumstances are right, I might just go for it head first if it happens naturally. This is entirely dependent on how our muses get along tho.

* - I love cute ship fluff and smutt and will definitely RP a lot of it, but that’s not the whole point and it’s not my only focus. I also really love other sorts of relationship dynamics, including friends, family, and even enemies.

* - Sinday asks are open to anyone, but writing out actual smut in threads is something I have to be comfortable with both my writing partner and the ship. It’s difficult for me to just throw my muse(s) into porn without plot. I like a pre-established relationship first and some context.

* - Smut is actually something I am very new to writing. I’ve been told I’m fairly decent at it, but I’m still learning my style with writing sexually explicit content. I’ve been trying to write more of it lately just to help me with developing those skills, but again, it is not the main focus of my RP blogs. I’m not against it, but it is by no means a requirement.

* - Honestly, there is no schedule. I just write whenever I have the time and motivation for it. Often times I end up replying to threads when it’s super late at night or early in the morning before dawn, but really, who knows when I’ll be around.

* - A lot of the time I only lurk. I try to get on tumblr every day, but sometimes my activity is just liking things other people have posted. My mental health doesn’t always allow me to do more than that in a day, but I do try my best to post at least something every day, even if it’s small and useless.

* - Still getting the hang of open starters and don’t have time to make very many. But I’m always open for RP meme starters, both sending and receiving. And I am slowly working on getting more open starters written.

Tagged by: @detective-with-one-arm via the dash

Tagging: everyone

#dbh rp blog #simon dbh #ooc #( there are a lot of elaboration points sorry )

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andersoncharm · 3 years

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Part 2-And it's My Whole Heart Deemed and Delivered a Crime- November 12 and 13, 2020. (Thursday and Friday)

Para: And it's My Whole Heart Deemed and Delivered a Crime-Part 2

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Seblaine.

Blaine: @andersoncharm

Sebastian: @smythesm

When: Thursday, November 12, 2020, Friday November 13, 2020

Location: Sebastian’s Apartment- Boston, MA

Notes: With Hunter and Tony's warnings weighing down on them and the clock ticking away their seconds together Sebastian and Blaine struggle to say goodbye as they spend what very well may be their last twenty four hours together. How do you manage just one more day with your soulmate? How do you give one last kiss, one last touch? How do you make love one last time? How do you say goodbye?

Warnings: This rp includes; Mild smut, mentions of possible main character death, mentions of parental death (Blaine’s Mom), mentions of toxic past relationships, mentions of brief past Klaine. (Under cut for length and content.)

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine had thrown his whole heart and a little bit of magic into the breakfast he’d made for the two of them, for all he knew, it was the last time he’d get to make one for Sebastian and as mundane as it seemed, he wanted to make sure it was the perfect meal. He’d made the bacon crispy the way his boyfriend liked it, he’d made pancakes from scratch and piled them high with strawberries and whipped cream and real maple syrup. He’d have squeezed real oranges for the orange juice if he could have left to go get some. He didn’t dare step foot out of the apartment though, didn’t dare magic himself to the store or anywhere else for that matter. What if they decided to take away his remaining hours with Sebastian and he never got to properly say goodbye, never got to tell him how much he loved him or kiss him ever again. What if Sebastian’s last memory of Blaine was him popping out of his living room to go get something as silly as oranges? Plain orange juice sufficed and got the job done.

The whole apartment smelled like coffee and a breakfast that would put any diner to shame. Blaine would have been proud of himself under any other circumstance, but this morning, even though the November sun was shining in a too blue sky through orange and red trees, casting a golden tone throughout the day, even though it looked like a painting outside, the inside of the apartment was anything but sunny. Sebastian was just standing there, leaning against the counter in the kitchen, his mug of steaming coffee clutched in his fingers so tightly Blaine could see the red. His boyfriends eyes were wide and he was staring at the floor with his jaw clenched, completely in his own world and Blaine, for the first time ever, wished that Witches had the ability to truly read minds. What was he thinking? Blaine could feel the terrified energy radiating off of him and it made his heart ache with a bone deep sorrow knowing that it was because of him that Sebastian was feeling this way.

Sebastian, on a normal day when Blaine made food like this, would have stolen about five pieces of bacon and would have three cups of coffee down by now. He’d have pressed little kisses to the back of Blaine’s neck as he cooked and would have at least pretended to help him cook the rest. Today though, Sebastian seemed to be in a state of shock and Blaine didn’t know what to do to get him out of it. He was standing as close to Blaine as he could, like he too was afraid to move away, but his mind was someplace else. Blaine had kept himself as busy as he could for the last hour since Hunter and Tony had walked out of their home and he was terrified that if he stopped moving or going on as if it were a normal day that he’d completely crack in half. He realized that this whole thing, the giant breakfast, was pretending that tomorrow wasn’t going to change them forever, even if he lived. Pretending that the Council and Order weren’t going to put him through hell, or that they might spare him all because he would tell him they were soulmates. Without proof… where did that leave them?

He knew he was being silly and stupid by pretending it away and that he should be out trying to do something, anything to stop this… but his fear of being taken away from Seb even one minute before his time was overwhelming. Besides he’d promised Hunter and Tony he’d stay put. He knew Hunter was out trying to figure out a way out of this, and he could still feel Tony somewhere just outside keeping an eye on them. Freya was with her. Both of them were determined and fierce and it was a little overwhelming. He wanted so badly to contact his father, tell him to help him. But a little part of him was so afraid that his dad was in on it, that his dad, who would have to head this trial, was secretly glad to be rid of Blaine. The voice in his head, that sounded like his mom scolded him and told him differently. He just had to hope his dad was on his side.

He plated their food and set them out on the little bistro table in the small dining room before wrapping his fingers around Seb’s wrist and guiding him to eat. Sebastian looked up at him, his expression seeming lost as he sat down. The whole room felt like that- lost, not even Ras was begging for bacon and Ras loved bacon almost as much as he loved his papa. Blaine, trying to keep up his charade, reached for his fork and cut himself a bit of pancake. He loved sweets and this was his favorite part, any other day he’d have consumed most of it by now. He found that he couldn’t even lift the fork to his lips and suddenly his whole act felt stupid and how the fuck was he supposed to do this? How as he supposed to spend the next twenty four hours acting like he might not die tomorrow, like they might not fuck Sebastian’s whole brain up just to erase any trace of him out of it. Sebastian wasn’t a normal human, he was the soulmate of a fucking Witch- That didn’t just happen to humans. Something was special about them and gods what would erasing Blaine out of his memory do to Sebastian? He sat his fork down on the plate, the sound loud as a gunshot in the quiet room. He reached out with his hand and for the first time since Hunter and Tony had left he let himself really touch Sebastian and really feel the confusion, anger and sadness that seemed to be consuming his boyfriend. He wanted to tell him that it would be okay again, but all at once it felt like a lie and he couldn’t bring himself to lie right now.

His voice cracked as he tried to speak and he had to stop, close his mouth and swallow before trying again. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to do this? His whole world was shattering right in front of him and he couldn’t do anything about it. All he had were these last hours and he was lucky to be getting that at all. He took a deep breath, his eyes wide as he scooted his chair over so that his knees were touching the side of Seb’s leg. He leaned forward and pressed his face into Sebastian’s shoulder, just breathing in his morning scent for a moment, his fingers holding tight to his hand.

“I-I know this isn’t how this was supposed to happen. We were supposed to have more time.” He bit his lip, pulling back so he could look up into Sebastian’s worried green eyes. “But, we have a little bit and I want to spend every second making sure you know just how much I loved- how much I love you. I don’t want to go away tomorrow morning not knowing if I’ll get to see you again and worried that I didn’t make you feel all the love I have to give.” His voice cracked a little on the word give and he swallowed hard, determined not to cry yet. He was afraid he'd never stop. “Tell me what you want to do and I’ll make it happen. Anything you want, baby. You want to yell at me for putting us here, then yell at me… You want to cry? We’ll cry together. We can eat, we can watch movies. We can sleep or touch… Anything. I just want you to remember us.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian didn’t take one sip of the coffee Blaine had poured him and he couldn’t fucking remember the last time he didn’t drink coffee. He didn’t know what to do with his body or his thoughts. His brain was racing with a thousand thoughts and he felt like he might cry if the air hit his face the wrong way which was unlike him. Suffice it to say, the morning wasn’t going great for him. Seb didn’t know how to comfort Blaine so he just stood in the kitchen and stared at the floor as the thought ‘are you wasting your time?’ raced around all of the other thoughts bouncing around his sad, tired head.

He poked at the fluffy whipped cream piled high on his pancakes and sighed. The food looked and smelled great but his stomach felt like a pit of acid and he was afraid he might throw up if he ate anything. Sebastian set his fork down and stared at the lavish spread on the small table. Suddenly Blaine touched him and his voice broke through his anxious fog. He reached out and laid his hand on his boyfriend’s thigh. An intrusive thought shot through him, what if he never got to do this again? Never got to something as simple as sit next to Blaine? Never to feel his knees pressed into his thigh or his forehead on his shoulder? Sebastian bit into his bottom lip so hard he thought he might draw blood. He had already picked his cuticles bloody and bit his nails to the nub.

“Blaine. I…” Sebastian shook his head, his voice cracked from not being used much and his eyes were glassy with tears. He hated crying and he hated feeling this way. “I know that I….can’t spend the whole day acting like this but I’m….I’m sad.” He crinkled his face and swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “I just want to be near you. I…” Sebastian took a deep, wobbly breath and squeezed the other man’s thigh. “I just want you.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his plate again. Seb wasn’t sure if his words even made much sense. What was there to do in the span of 24 hours? Plenty of things but there was so much that couldn’t happen at the same time. You couldn’t move into a house together or celebrate your new job that you hadn’t gotten yet or travel to Paris again or celebrate all of the holidays and birthdays that might be missed. Hunter and Blaine had told him that his memories could be erased. There wasn’t enough time to relive every moment with Blaine he held dear. They couldn’t stand in an arcade parking lot laughing over a little plastic Eiffel tower or dash through the snow in a horse drawn carriage or fuck in an attic under starlight or get tangled up in Ras’s leash. No fancy French dinner dates or enchanted pomegranates or Wonder Woman themed gifts. All Sebastian could do was make the most out of a day that felt like it was suffocating him.

“I don’t want to waste the food but I can’t eat right now. Maybe we could lay down together?” He stood up from the table and held his hand out.

Blaine’s POV:

A jolt of actual pain shot through Blaine’ body as Sebastian’s voice cracked, Blaine could feel it in his bones just as pain as if he’d been slapped across the face. He hated this, hated that he couldn’t fix it. Hated that he’d been born a Witch and that loving Sebastian made him wrong. He’d never hated being a Witch, always loved that he’d gotten such a powerful gift of healing from his mother, and gifts of charms from his father. But, especially his mother’s gifts. He’d always loved knowing he could heal someone's broken heart with a song as they passed by him on the streets, even if the relief only lasted an hour, it always made him feel good knowing he got to make the world a little brighter. But, the archaic laws against Witches and humans being together made him loathe his gifts. It wasn’t as if Blaine was some awful Witch playing with a human's mind, no, he and Sebastian were Fated. That meant something in the Witch community. He could already hear the Councils arguments against how it wasn’t possible.... If only they could just meet Sebastian, if only they could see how much they loved each other. He knew they’d never allow him into their world though. Blaine would have to think of something else. He knew his word wasn’t enough. He knew he’d try anyway.

He swallowed hard as he listened to his boyfriend struggle though his words, each one of them adding another weight to his already heavy heart. The soft and broken way Sebastian said the word sad almost did Blaine in and he found himself clenching his teeth at the unfairness of it all again. He wanted to curse the gods because at the end of the day it was their fault. Was it all just some cruel joke? Find the loneliest Witch and Fate him to someone he’s not allowed to have. Watch him burn? Giggle as the human struggles to grasp a life without his love? And once again Blaine found he’d trade his magic for just one lifetime of freedom with Seb.

He watched Sebastian and his thoughts seemed to be going a mile a minute. His smooth face scrunched and wrinkled with each new thought that crossed him and Blaine couldn’t take it anymore so he reached out and cupped his hands against Sebastian’s face gently, holding him there so that Seb could see him, so Seb would know that Blaine was here. That he had him and that he’d stay by his side until Hunter took him away.

“You have me, I’m right here, Seb. I won’t leave your side until they make me…” He trailed off his eyes following Sebastian’s as he looked at the meal. “I can always warm it up later if you’re hungry, we’ll just leave it.” He stood and handed Ras a few pieces of the bacon, the pup looked worried as he reluctantly took the meat from Blaine’s fingers. His brown eyes were large and his energy buzzing anxiety. Normally Ras would have barked with joy at the prospect of three whole pieces of bacon, now he looked like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be happy. Blaine gave the gorgeous pup a pat on the head, murmuring to him that it was okay and they’d see him in a little bit before letting Seb lead him back into the bedroom.

Blaine crawled into the bed next to Sebastian and pulled the covers over them, he pulled the other man to him, his arm tightly over his waist, their eyes meeting in the weak morning glow. The two of them were still in their pajamas, Hunter had only left a little bit ago and the digital clock next to the bed read 6:23 am. Blaine only twenty two hours left with Sebastian. His stomach dropped at the thought and suddenly he was pissed that he’d spent an hour cooking when he could have just been here, holding Sebastian against him like this. And even has the thought hit him, he knew that it didn’t matter what they did, he would always think it wasn’t good enough. People shouldn’t have to live like this, time shouldn’t be measured like this. They should just be living. Sebastian should be preparing to go out into the workforce, Blaine should be finding his own way in life whether it be at LeFay or on his own helping people in other ways. They should be talking about moving in with each other, maybe getting a house and maybe getting married one day. Maybe Sebastian might even change his mind about children and maybe they'd have one running around calling Seb papa and reaching for them with sticky hands and chasing Ras and Freya around until they fell asleep tangled in Ras’ fur. If only Blaine had been born human. If only Seb had been born a Witch…

He bit his lip and reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from Sebastian’s cheek. “Do you remember the night we met? We had a connection even then, didn’t we?” He licked his lips, his voice a little unsteady even though he tried his hardest to keep it strong. “I knew as soon as I touched your face that I was ruined and that you’d be the reason I smiled for the rest of my life.” He swallowed hard, his throat hurting with the sensation of tears that he refused to let fall, he wanted to be strong for Seb, Seb who was crying already and needed Blaine to be the one that didn’t for once. “Do you remember the first time I told you I loved you? Way too soon and I was so afraid that even with our connection that you’d get scared and run away.” He let out a little laugh at the memory. “You didn’t though. You looked at me with your big green eyes and said you needed time… but you didn’t need time because you knew and you told me not even five minutes later.” He took a deep breath and shook his head.

“We completed each other from the moment we met and that’s why I have to keep being hopeful that I can find a way to show them that we’re not just a couple. I have to have hope that I’ll figure out a way to show them that you’re my Fate and that I’m yours and that by taking me away from you it’s hurting you and we don’t hurt humans.” He licked his lips again, his throat suddenly feeling dry as he gathered Sebastian into his arms even tighter. “And if I-I can’t convince them and I do have to leave you… I want you to know that it was all worth it for me. I’d face a thousand witch fires just to know that I got to be with you. That I got to be loved by you for a little bit. You have been my greatest happiness and my best song, Sebastian. The grandest magic I’ve ever done and I’d go through this whole trial again just to have your company.” He blinked away a few unshed tears, angry with himself as they dripped hot and fast down his face, he tried his best to ignore them.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Blaine’s hips under the covers. He could feel the other man’s hands on his own waist, their arms brush against each other. The covers were warm and heavy on his exhausted body and sleepiness tugged at his eyelids but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep with the constant barrage of negative thoughts. “We always had a connection,” Seb’s voice was raspy and low. “There’s gotta be a way, right? There has to be something, right?”

He pressed a finger to Blaine’s lips. Sebastian nodded and brushed a few tears away from the other man’s cheeks. He knew how Blaine felt and he agreed but, he couldn’t bring himself to speak like things were final. His mind was already filled with dreadful situations and it felt like tears were stuck on the ridges of his eyes all morning. Sebastian lay with Blaine quietly for a few moments and just listened to him breathe, pressed his ear to his chest to count his heartbeats. “You know that I feel the same way, right? I don’t do magic, obviously but, you’ve been my most exciting accomplishment. You’re the best person I know. I love you.” He was thankful that his face was towards the blankets on Blaine’s chest as a few tears fell slowly. Why was crying so fucking exhausting? Everything inside of Sebastian felt spent.

“I’m so fucking tired but, I don’t know if I can sleep. Is it selfish to want sleep? Would it be wasting all of our time? I don’t know what to do.” Sebastian lifted his head and watched his boyfriend’s face. He always loved laying next to the other man in bed. He never thought he would be into cuddling or pillow talk but he loved it with Blaine. Loved sleeping next to him, being cuddled, even enjoyed just laying there talking late at night when they had too much wine and couldn’t stop joking around. He would miss it, couldn’t think of experiencing any of it with anybody else. Nobody would be able to hold him the same way or make him laugh or think like Blaine would.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine knew that Sebastian hated hearing him talk about his death, his finger against his lips a reminder that any time he tried to say goodbye or prepare him that Seb would hush it. But it was right here and there was a very real chance that Blaine not get to come back. He wondered for a moment as he let his fingers stroke through the soft hair at the base of Seb’s neck, if he’d walk the streets on Samhain trying to find a way to get a message to his love. What would Sebastian’s life be like without him in it? Would he wander around thinking something was missing from his life and spend the rest of his days trying to figure out what it was? Would he live? Would his broken red string of fate allow him to exist without Blaine? Blaine mostly wanted him to get to live a life, a happy one. But, the selfish part, the part that knew they only belonged to each other knew that it probably wasn’t possible for Sebastian without him. And it made him ache even more to find a way to survive this. To get back to his person.

“I know you do, Seb. I know how hard it is for you to voice things like that too and hearing you say them now is bittersweet. I love getting glimpses of this side of you, but the fact that you’re so freely offering your feelings to me means that you’re scared and I don’t want you to be scared, it hurts and I’d give anything to make you feel good again.” He bit his lip and could feel the hot, damp sensation of tears falling through his shirt and onto his chest where Sebastian was lying his head on his heart. And again he wanted to fucking hex the gods. And that ugly part that lived in all Witches when they felt threatened felt so close to the surface. But Sebastian was in his arms and he was real and he loved Blaine exactly the way he was and Blaine never wanted to do anything to change that opinion. So he reeled it in and pressed a kiss to the top of Seb’s head and moved their bodies so that Sebastian’s back was pressed against his front and Blaine’s lips were pressed against the back of his neck.

“I love you back, I always will.” He pressed a soft kiss to one of Sebastian's star dusted freckles and then did it again and it was like catching his own star with his lips. “No, it’s not a waste of our time. We’re together and that’s what matters. I think it’s actually a good idea, we can hold each other and be close and maybe when we wake up, we’ll feel a little better and you won’t be in so much shock.” He gathered Sebastian closer, holding his boyfriend as tightly as he could comfortably, his lips close to his ear so he could hear his question. “With your permission I could make sure you get some decent sleep and promise you no nightmares. Yeah?” He pressed another kiss to the shell of Seb’s ear and after a moment of hesitation he could hear Sebastian’s sleepy, raspy voice say the word yes. And as Seb snuggled deeper into his arms, his hands clutching at Blaine’s, he was overcome with how much this meant that Seb trusted him. Blaine had only done this twice for Seb, once without permission on their first night together and since then he’d been afraid to break Seb’s trust. It almost felt like a call back to that night two and a half years ago as Blaine closed his eyes and hummed a soft nameless tune into Seb’s ear, only this time Blaine was holding him close and fighting like hell to stay with him instead of trying to leave him.

Peaceful, healing and calming magic flowed from Blaine’s lips into Seb’s mind with each new note and within minutes Sebastian’s breathing was steady and his chest was rising and falling in rhythm to Blaine’s song and Blaine could feel the pull working on himself. It wasn’t until he heard Ras’ tentative steps into the room and then felt his slow climb into the bed before the pup finally curled into the two of them at the foot of the bed that Blaine let himself fall asleep with his two favorite boys. All that was missing was Freya and she was out there with Tony, keeping them safe.

—-

Blaine woke slowly, his mind moving before his body and while he hadn't forgotten what was happening, he still felt a little better. More relaxed and like he might properly be able to somewhat… enjoy his time left with Seb. His heart still ached and he was still terrified, but Seb was so comforting in his arms and in his dreams they'd grown old together.

The digital clock on the bedside table read 11:56 am and too many hours had gone by, but Blaine had gotten to hold Sebastian and press him close for those hours and what else could he ask for? He nuzzled his nose into Seb’s neck, kissing the spot and then pressed a kiss to his ear and then his cheek, trying to slowly wake him up. They had a little over sixteen hours left and wanted to make up for things they may not be able to do. All at once he wanted to celebrate everything. Holidays, birthdays, the whole works...

“Wake up, baby.” He mumbled, his hand moving to turn Seb’s face gently towards him so that he could finally press a kiss to his lips, the first one of the day. “We should go have that breakfast, I can redo it so fast and it’ll taste just as good, and then we should pull out the Christmas stuff and decorate. You know how much Ras likes Christmas.” The dog stirred and yipped as if he knew the words. He did indeed like Christmas but that was mostly because of the snow and the free hambones he got. Perhaps Blaine could magic him one, just this once. He let himself smile, just a small one, hoping it would rub off on his sleepy, impossibly sad boyfriend. “What do you say, Seb- Christmas in November? I could even make us your favorite lemon cookies.”

Sebastian’s POV:

“Yeah,” Sebastian rarely let Blaine use his magic on him. He didn’t want to become dependent on it. He figured that if any time was good for magic, it was now. Seb pressed into Blaine and took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His boyfriend began to gently hum and the sound was soothing and warm. It wasn’t just the sound of his voice, though. Seb felt like he had drank chamomile tea or ate a big bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup. Warmth spread over his body as Blaine’s notes drifted over him and suddenly he couldn’t remember anything as he was sleeping deeply and soundly.

He didn’t dream once. It was just peaceful, undisturbed sleep. Seb hadn’t even noticed Enjolras’s heavy body on his feet (which miraculously were not asleep.) When Blaine woke him, Sebastian didn’t feel groggy or sluggish. Sebastian softly kissed Blaine back and see stretched his back. “I needed that rest. Thank you.”

The thought of food finally felt okay to him. He knew that he should eat and be alert for the rest of the day. It wasn’t going to do the other man any favors to be sad all day. Sebastian swung his feet over the side of the bed and his feet touched the cold hardwood floor. “That sounds good, B. I could eat.”

He wasn’t great at decorating or even that interested in it normally but, he always indulged Blaine in decking out the apartment and he was right, Ras always seemed to love to bask underneath the tree and even wore a Santa hat for pictures (sometimes.) It would be a good distraction and would fill up some of the empty hours that lay ahead of them. “You know I’d never say no to lemon cookies. Sure, let’s do it. Coffee first and for real this time.” Seb forced himself to smile and stood up as the dog excitedly leaped from the bed. I’ll miss their relationship. B is so good with Ras. He scratched his head as if to get rid of the intrusive thought and then cleared his throat before the tears returned. He needed to hang onto the thought of watching Blaine work his literal magic on the decorations as the golden pup leaped around the living room.

Sebastian and Blaine sat at the dining room table and ate a little bit and finally drank their coffee. The food tasted fresh and they talked about the decorations and what movie to play in the background as they dug into the bright red tote Blaine kept the Christmas stuff in. Ras got some more bacon and the two of them decided on a gold and white theme with splashes of red winter berries. “Sounds Classy. My mother will be jealous. You think the council will let me keep the tree up?” The words were out of his mouth with his scathing tone before he could stop himself. “ I’m...sorry. I shouldn’t...that wasn’t cool.” Seb blinked and his cheeks felt red (a rarity.)

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine could tell that Sebastian’s smiles were still just a little too forced, and it felt like he was holding something back, like he was refusing to grasp everything as it was, and maybe that was his way of coping with everything. He was happy to see that Sebastian seemed to enjoy his food that Blaine had magicked back into freshness. He realized he’d been doing more magic today around the other man than he normally did in a month, but what did he have to lose at this point? Blaine had quickly and efficiently made the meltaways that Seb loved so well up and had set them out to cool as Sebastian drank his third cup of coffee and pawed through the Christmas boxes. It made him smile that Seb was willing to go this far for him. The decorating was mostly for distraction, but Blaine wanted Sebastian to have something of his to look at while he was gone, something they had worked on together.

As they hung each ornament and Blaine made sure each little magical touch he put on the glistening, lit tree- a glimmer there, a twinkle here, magical berries all around- he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow. He’d never gotten to go to Paris properly with Sebastian. Never gotten to walk the snowy streets of Paris with his person, never got to shop with Sabine, never got the chance to meet his grand-mère or prove to the stern woman that he was good enough for her grandson. The thought bothered him more than he wanted to admit. All he had was the memory of a squeaky bed and the breathtaking view from the top of a darkened Eiffel Tower at three am while Seb clung tightly to him. It was an incredible memory, but he’d have liked to have experienced the country proper. He took a deep breath and tweaked a few of the branches to appear to glow in certain angles, almost missing the snark coming from Sebastian. He turned to look at his boyfriend and couldn’t help but wonder the same damn thing.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Seb. You might just be in the angry phase of your… grief. I get it, I’ve been there a bit myself in my head.” He sighed and stepped away from the tree and moved around the pile of fluff that was Ras so he could join Seb on the couch. He sat close to him, one of his hands reaching out to link their fingers together. “I… I think that if I get sent away or I, um- die and they take your memory that the tree will stay but my magic will just fade.” He forced himself to look up at Seb, his eyes meeting his as he spoke, unsure and sad. “Or you’ll just forget that it existed at all. My face will fade from photos, and all the magical things I’ve done around here will as well. Your mom and the rest of your family will forget me and Ras might too. Though he’s a companion and our connection is a little different than humans, so maybe he won't? I don’t know… But, things that I’ve done that don’t involve me direction or my magic will stay.” He tried to make himself smile, but he really wanted to fucking sob. The thought of Ras and Sabine and little Luke forgetting about him was hard enough, but now it was just hitting him that he would just fade from every photo Seb had of the two of them.

“The photos I’ve taken of you and of Ras will stay, you just won’t know who took them.” He looked up at the photo of Seb and Ras Blaine had taken hanging on the wall. “My scent might linger? Um, the things I’ve gotten you that have nothing to do with magic will probably stay, well, maybe, I don’t know. I think so though because they’d have no way of knowing I bought it, especially if it’s just some silly thing- Like our Eiffel Tower. A mundane thing to others, but important to us.”

He abruptly let out a mirthless laugh, much louder than intended and blinked back an onslaught of tears and angry emotion. “This… I am so scared that it will make you lose your mind, Seb. Because we are Fated and this has never happened before. I wish that I’d just disappear completely to make it easier on you. That everything I’ve ever bought or gave you would just go away… I know that sounds harsh, but I’m so scared of what this will do to your head.” Blaine bit into his bottom lip, his fingers tightening on Sebastian’s as if the tighter he held them, the better he’d feel.

“But, I stand by what I said before… I’m going to find a way back, okay? There’s got to be a way, there’s gotta be something. You’re my Fate and in my world that means something. I have to make them see that so I can come back to you. And then we’ll laugh about how dramatic we’re being right now. How ridiculously silly…” he realized with a pang that he’d been preparing Seb for a life without him by telling him all of the things he’d be missing from and his free hand went to his heart where he pressed it hard, as if that would still the pain. It didn’t: He forced himself to smile. Wanting to tell Seb it’d be okay, but unable to get the words out.

“Come here... enough of this.” He moved forward and in one motion he was straddling Seb’s lap for closeness, his hands cupping his boyfriends face gently before tilting his head back so he could look down at him for once. “I’ve just realized that I haven’t kissed you properly today. Let me fix that.” His breath hitched as his lips connected with Seb’s, and he kissed him slow and deep, like he’d never get to do it again. And then Blaine was breathing him in like Seb was air. Like he’d suffocate without him. His fingers slipped upwards to tangle into his hair, his tongue sliding in between Seb’s teeth and exploring as if Sebastian was the sweetest taste it had ever known.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian swallowed the lump he suddenly had in his throat and stared at the floor. He took a shuddery breath and squinted hard, trying to keep more tears from falling. Seb let Blaine hold his hand and tried to listen to him speak. He hated the words that were filling the air, they all felt so negative and heavy. There were so many things he probably needed to say but couldn’t figure out how to place them. “This fucking sucks. I don’t like how any of that sounds.”

He squeezed the other man’s hand back when he felt him tighten his grip. Sebastian wiped the tears on his cheeks away with his free hand. He felt angry with himself for crying. Blaine was the one that was going to get dragged away and might not come back and Seb couldn’t fucking hold it together for an hour without being magically put to sleep? “I need you to come back, B.”

Seb held on to Blaine’s hips and immediately felt comforted by his weight. “Please.” He tipped his head up towards Blaine and kissed him. Sebastian slipped his hands under his boyfriend’s shirt and reveled in how warm his skin felt. To be honest, this is exactly how he would love to spend his limited time with Blaine. They had always been an intimate couple, always knew what made the other feel good and had so much unspoken trust in one another. Sebastian struggled with speaking about the more touchy feely things on his mind but Blaine didn’t need to hear it all. All they needed to do was kiss or touch and the other knew what the other seemed to be thinking. Sebastian nipped at Blaine’s bottom lip and ran his hands up and down his muscular back as if to memorize every tendon and movement. He moved one hand to grip the other man’s thigh. He wrapped his other arm around Blaine’s back and moved so that he was pressed into the couch. Sebastian had Blaine underneath him now, he stopped and watched his face for a moment before he leaned forward to kiss him deeply again.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine swallowed hard, Sebastian’s plea for him to come back felt like a punch to the gut and he’d give anything in the world to promise him that he would with one hundred percent certainty. He knew he couldn’t do that but he knew that he had to try and make it happen, he’d exhausted all of his promises to find a way, and now he just knew he had to do it. He tangled his fingers deeper into Sebastian’s hair and kissed him so hard he could barely breath from it. He wanted it though, wanted that closeness and the feeling of their bodies pressed together. He knew Sebastian struggled with words, knew that his much more private boyfriend was much better at showing his love through kisses and sighs and tangled, naked limbs, than with words and it had taken Blaine no time at all to learn his language. They conversed together beautifully and effortlessly.

Blaine leaned into the touches, his back arching into Seb’s fingertips, craving the feeling of them against his skin. His eyes opened in surprised when Sebastian pressed him against the couch cushions and all at once his tough façade flew out the window. He suddenly just needed Sebastian to guide him, show him that it would be okay- at least for a little while. Blaine had spent the last several hours trying his hardest to make Seb feel better, to make sure he was comfortable and safe that he’d forgotten that it was him that might die. He wasn’t sure he was afraid of dying so much as afraid of missing Sebastian in his afterlife. What kind of afterlife would he have without him? He was still terrified of what was to come and Sebastian’s weight on him, his lips on his skin… it was what he needed. His breath hitched again and he clung even tighter to his boyfriends body and he felt safe and at home in his arms. A part of him wanted to just sob and fall apart against his shoulder but he also wanted to Sebastian to take him into the bedroom and fuck him until he forgot about his emending judgement for a bit and he could fall apart in a completely different way.

Blaine could feel Seb against the thin layers of their pajamas, and he knew that he wanted the same thing. He pulled back, his head hitting the arm of the sofa a little harder than he intended. He let out a little laugh so he wouldn’t cry from his emotions being turned up far to high. He reached out and cupped Seb’s face, his fingers tracing down the rest at his neck, his thumb pressing just so at his pulse point.

“I want you to take me to bed…” His words trailed off as the overwhelming urge to cry struck him again, wondering if this would be the last time he got to say that. Would tonight be the last time they got to touch each other? Be inside one another? Would it be the last night he got to hear Seb whisper his name while he squirmed under Blaine? Or would it be the last time Blaine was surprised by how much he enjoyed the rare occasions Seb took the control from him? His breath hitched again and Blaine realized each time it hitched he was a step closer to crying and not stopping. He looked up into Seb’s eyes, feeling vulnerable as he spoke.

“Please… I need you.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian sighed and pressed into Blaine when he felt his fingers on his neck. Even when Seb’s concern was to make Blaine feel good, the other man still did things to turn him on and ensure his pleasure. He had never had a love like B, and would never have one again.

Seb wanted to make Blaine feel good and taken care of and if he couldn’t speak it, he’d make him feel it. He could see the tears sitting on the rims of the other man’s eyes. Seb knew that there would be tears all night and he was avoiding the unavoidable but he just couldn’t waste his precious time.He leaned forward and gave him another languid kiss before he took his hands and led him to the bedroom.

He closed the door behind them and slipped his hands under Blaine’s shirt, let his hand rest on his heart for a moment before he lifted his shirt over his head. Seb dropped the shirt on the floor and suddenly they were both tugging at each other’s remaining clothing and Blaine was pressed to the bed. He kissed Blaine everywhere, traced every vein, touched every muscle, tasted every mark and freckle. Sebastian pressed his hips between Blaine’s legs and kissed him so hard and long he didn’t know how much time had passed. He pressed his hand to Blaine’s and wordlessly asked for his magic to coat his fingers. Sebastian leaned in close and whispered “Touch me, too.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine let himself be led into the bedroom, his hands holding too tightly so Sebastian’s as if he’d disappear if he let go. He wanted to cling to him until his arms hurt and he couldn’t hold on anymore. His fingers pulled and yanked at Seb’s clothing, unhappy until they were all discarded in a heap on the floor and as Seb pressed him to the bed, Blaine could feel his emotions rising, a mix of desire and sorrow and it was an intoxicating mix, he felt like he might explode or collapse. But, looking up into Seb’s eyes, the early evening sun slanting across his face and making him look even more faelike, Blaine knew that if he had to collapse there was no better place than in Seb’s arms as he pressed kisses to his skin, and touched parts of his exposed body expertly. He could hold on a little bit longer.

He wasn’t sure how long Sebastian explored his body, how long he kissed Blaine- so hard his lips would be swollen hours later, but by the time Sebastian stilled and reached out for Blaine’s hand, ready to sick his fingers with Blaine’s magic, the sun was almost gone and Blaine’s body was pleasantly sore with Seb’s fingertips and kisses. He licked his lips and reached out to share his magic with Sebastian, and his cock throbbed as Seb’s magic coated fingers teased just a little at his entrance, his boyfriends touches and kisses had been so soaked with want and Blaine could hardly stand waiting. But, this was all part of their language. The movement, the wait, the build up… The slickness of his magic on Seb’s fingers, pressed against him, he loved it when Seb did this. Someone who had shown real fear of Blaine’s gift was now able to willingly ask him to share it so they could be intimate without boundaries.

He let his legs fall open further at Seb’s words, the sound of them so close and breathy in his hear, and he wanted nothing more than to pull Sebastian into him all too quickly, but also wanting to feel his fingers, and then wanting to feel that initial slow burn and hiss as his boyfriend sank into him. He reached out, his fingers still slick and wrapped them around Seb’s cock. Working his fingers around and over him to get them both ready. With his free hand he took hold of Seb’s lightly teasing fingers and pressed them towards him, wanting them inside of him so badly he thought he might weep. He felt raw and exposed and desperate.

“Please, please touch me.” His breath hitched again, and he pressed his hips up towards Sebastian, needing him to take care of him. To hold him as he fell apart. “Fuck me.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian let Blaine guide his slick fingers. He pressed two inside of him and watched the other man’s face. He liked what he saw, though he didn’t get this view very often. Blaine was squirming and panting and ready. Sebastian wasn’t in the mood to tease, he just wanted to be as close as possible. He removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock and pressed inside of the other man slowly. Sebastian stilled his hips though instinctually he wanted to keep moving. He wanted to give Blaine a moment. Seb ran his palm down the other man’s thigh to comfort him and ask for permission before he began to move.

He leaned forward and slipped an arm behind Blaine’s neck to support him and bring them that much closer. Sebastian moved his hips again and again and the two of them were completely in sync. Thankfully he was too wrapped up in the feeling of Blaine’s body and the sound of his moans in his ear to think any of the sad thoughts that had infiltrated his mind all day long. All Sebastian wanted to do was make Blaine feel good, wanted, satisfied, and loved. He pressed his mouth to Blaine’s and kissed him hard, licked his bottom lip and then kissed him again deeply. Sebastian could feel the stubble of Blaine’s five o’clock shadow scratch against his skin, could feel the other man’s thighs shake as they pressed into his hips.

Sebastian took a deep breath and snapped his hips into the other man, he pressed his lips to his jaw, his lips, his neck and whispered every compliment and adoring word he could think of into his warm skin.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine let himself get lost in the feeling of Sebastian inside of him, the first sting, the slow and steady drag, the speed up- as the other man pressed into him over and over sending him into a swell of pleasure taking away the dull pain he’d been feeling all day long for a little bit. His fingers scraped at the back of Seb’s neck as he let the other man kiss him so thoroughly and with a sweetness that was backed by a real and primal desire. Each thrust caused his toes to curl a little more and his legs to shake a little harder and it had been so long since he let himself be this open, normally he was in control and he loved it, loved the way Seb looked and felt under and around him, they always moved so perfectly together, this was no exception. He needed it, needed Seb’s strong arms around him, needed him to help him forget. He needed the desperate kisses and the low moans and the repeated I love you, I love you, I love you hummed over and over in his ear like the most beautiful song he’s ever heard.

And all at once and too fast, or maybe they had been just like this for hours, moving together, kissing and loving each other so thoroughly-, he was coming hard and fast, his voice echoing his waves of pleasure as he rode them out. His legs squeezing around his boyfriend, trying to draw him in, encouraging him to keep going, not to let up just because he was sated, hoping to let his last just a little longer. His words a little whine in the back of his throat.

“K-keep going, baby.”

He held Seb close as he kept going, and he loved the sensation of feeling like jelly and still getting little thrums of pleasure throughout his body as Seb pressed into him. The only thing between him was his crystal, sliding up a bit with each thrust. He clung so tightly, afraid that if he let go his pain would slam back into him and he’d burst into tears. He didn’t want that, he wanted to feel this moment , wanted to wrap it up and save it for later- like he wanted to do with so many memories with Sebastian. At the thought he might not be able to do that, the sorrow started to climb back up and he could feel the hitch in his chest anyway and he pulled Seb closer and buried his face into his neck, pressing tearful kisses and whispering the echoing words back.

“Gods, I love you…”

Sebastian’s POV:

It didn’t take Sebastian very long to follow after Blaine. Blaine’s arms were tight around him, his fingers in his hair, his lips on his neck. He lay there for a moment so that he could catch his breath and he could feel the energy shift. Blaine’s whisper felt thick, like his throat was tight. Seb leaned up on his elbows to look down at Blaine and noticed the tears on his cheeks. “B…” Sebastian moved his body so that he was now laying next to the other man. “I love you back.” He pulled him close so that his forehead was against his chest. He rubbed his back and tucked his chin into his hair. Sebastian sighed and suddenly felt like he might cry, too. The whole day had been an emotional roller coaster and exhausting and it finally had caught on to him. His hands trembled as they tried to comfort the other man and suddenly he had tears falling, too.

Sebastian wasn’t sure what triggered them. Maybe it was Blaine’s own teary eyes or the fact that he had been delaying truly, freely sobbing all day. It was bound to catch up to him and he felt like he was having a panic attack and wished he had taken his medicine for once. His chest heaved and his skin felt like it was on fire and he knew if he spoke that his voice would embarrass him and would sound like a stranger. Sebastian hated this feeling, hated crying because it threw him into a vicious panicky spiral. Crying, really crying, made him panic which made him embarrassed and cry harder and made his breathing heavy and it was just best to avoid the whole mess altogether. Now here he was, naked and sobbing and he couldn’t pinpoint what had caused the reaction.

“B….B, you gotta come back.” He hated how thick his voice sounded, how he could feel phlegm in the back of his throat and the urge to throw up suddenly swam around in the back of his head.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine hadn’t meant to trigger Sebastian into tears as well, he hadn’t meant to make him cry the hardest Blaine had ever seen him cry before and the fact made his tears flow harder and faster and it made him cling to Seb tighter. Seb had been doing such a good job at comforting Blaine, the back rub, the kisses and sweet words and now Blaine could feel the panic just coming off of Seb in waves and Blaine was so so sorry for it. The desperate words of his nickname and the soft way he begged him to come back hit him right in the chest. They held onto each other for a long while, sniffles and low sobs permeating the air around them, at one point Ras came into the room, waiting to comfort his parents, but Blaine had to send him away with a little nudge of magic. He’d make it up to him. Or at least he hoped he’d get the chance.

Finally, after who knew how many minutes Blaine felt like he might have cried himself out, he pulled back just slightly and Seb instinctively pulled him back towards him and his desperation broke Blaine's heart into a million little pieces. He swallowed hard, a new wave of tears he thought had dried threatened to steal him away into a dark place but he couldn’t let it. Not yet. He needed to be strong. He pulled Seb back to his chest and hummed a soft tune into his ear, not one for sleep this time, but one for calm. He wished he had an instrument with him, his calming magic always worked the best with one, but this would have to work. He stroked Seb’s hair and whispered that he’d come back to him, knowing that he shouldn’t do that but also unable to tolerate the heartbreak in his soulmate's voice again. He didn’t want to overwhelm Seb with his magic, so as soon as he felt the other man lighten up just a bit he stopped his magic flow.

“Hey…” He mumbled, his lips finding Seb’s to place a gentle kiss against his kiss and cry swollen lips. “I’ve got you…” He took a deep breath, and braved a look at the clock on the bedside table and his heart jumped upon seeing that it was already 11:02 pm. They had less than six hours left. Their passion had lasted much longer than it felt and the thought threatened to send him reeling again as the two of them were so effortless… He licked his lips, and sat up a bit, his hands slipping reluctantly from around Seb’s body to hover by his own neck, nervous over what he was about to do. He’d never, in over eight years, done this before. Without thinking too hard about it, he pulled the string with the crystal his mother had given him all those years ago over his head and placed it securely around Sebastian's neck. He instantly felt naked even though he was already completely bare. His fingers pressed the shiny clear quartz against Seb’s heart and shook his head when Seb started to protest.

“I want you to have this.” He nodded, his hand still pressing the crystal to Seb’s heart. “I know that when- if something happens to me that all of me will be taken away from you so I have no way of protecting you. But, the magic that’s in this crystal is my moms it’s been there since before she died, and she died with honor so it won’t disappear… and it’s done a good job of keeping me safe, so I think it’ll do that same for you.” His breath hitched again as he took in the visual of Seb wearing his crystal. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to make himself walk out of that door in five in a half hours…

“Please, don’t take it off. I’ll go to trial better knowing you’re holding on to this for me. Knowing that my mom is keeping you safe for me.” He pressed his face into Seb’s chest, his words muffled. “Please, Seb... And when I come home you can give it back to me, yeah?” He pulled his face back, and gave Seb a smile despite the tears caught in his lashes. “She’d have been happy to keep you safe for me.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian shook his head and even tried to lean away as Blaine put the necklace over his head. “Baby, I…” It wasn’t that he didn’t like the crystal, he just knew how much it meant to the other. He fidgeted with the cool crystal and smoothed the cord around his neck as Blaine spoke. How many times had this very crystal dragged across his own chest in the heat of the moment? How many times had he watched his boyfriend play with it absentmindedly while reading or watching something? Now it was sitting against his skin and he swore he could already feel a positive thrum vibrate gently against him. Sebastian ran free hand over Blaine’s shoulder and leaned forward for a kiss. Seb took a deep breath and nodded, “I won’t take it off. I’ll wear it for as long as you need me to. I don’t know if I deserve her protection but, I’ll take it.”

The clock refused to stop ticking and Sebastian decided that time was his one true enemy. He felt like anytime he lifted his head from the pillow or took a breath in between a kiss or a touch, too much time had passed. The two of them spent the next few hours in bed, kissing and touching and tasting and whispering. Blaine pressed Sebastian into the mattress and made him forget about the cruel pull of time for a little while and they held each other as they shivered in the afterglow.

They took a long, hot shower together until the water ran cold. They let themselves get distracted by each other’s bodies, washed each other’s hair and stood under the water wrapped up until they felt like their pruney fingers may never recover. Sebastian put on Blaine’s LeFay hoodie and breathed in the intoxicating yet comforting scent of the spicy oil he wore. He made sure that the crystal was tucked safely away against his chest since he wasn’t used to wearing jewelry (besides the occasional watch). Sebastian sat and watched as his boyfriend got dressed and he refused to look at the clock. “I don’t think I can eat and I don’t want to sleep. Maybe just...come sit on the couch with me?”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s body felt pleasantly sore from the night's touches, but also so exhausted by the time the two of them stepped under the heat and steam of the shower. Each stroke of lips over his skin, each massage of fingertips into his scalp, it all reminded him of how very real they were to each other. He tried his best to keep it together as they dried off and Blaine dressed himself in jeans and a red sweater, and let his curls free from any product. He’d much rather be in pajamas and crawling into bed for sleep with his person, but the Fates were testing them and had other plans today. He’d encouraged Seb to put new pajamas on, told him that he’d be so tired he’d fall right to sleep and that comfort mattered right now.

Blaine looked up at Seb, his boyfriend's eyes wide even though they seemed heavy with exhaustion and he nodded. He made his way to the couch and sat before pulling Sebastian into his arms and held him close against his chest as tightly as he could. They didn’t put the television on, they didn’t really have the time for that, the clock read 4:12 am and if he kept looking at it he’d go crazy. There was a pit in his stomach and he wanted to scream again at the unfairness of it all. But Seb was in his arms and the weight on top of him was comforting and Blaine didn’t want to ruin their final minutes with dramatics.

“There are some potions in the cupboard where the tea is, some for sleep and some for calming. I don’t know if they’ll be there after the trial is over, but the trial could take days and I know you’ll be restless, please don’t hesitate to take them, okay?” He pressed his cheek to the top of Seb’s head, pulling him even closer. “And don’t forget that Freya will be with you the whole time. You’ll have her and Ras with you the whole time. And if you need anything from anywhere, text Tony. She’s staying out there until it’s done. And I’ve put extra protection spells up around the place… you’ll be safe.” He paused, a guilty thought hitting him. “Gods, I’m sorry you won’t be able to do your work…” He was cut off suddenly by a twinkle in the air and paws hitting the floor.

All at once Freya was in the room, coming through the balcony like she owned the place and there was soft knocking on the door. So different than what it would be like if Blaine didn’t know he had to go. And it was time… Hunter let himself in and Blaine could see Tony behind him, her eyes red and puffy like maybe she’d witnessed some of their struggles on her patrols that night. Or maybe she was just upset that Blaine was being taken away. Blaine kissed the top of Seb’s head and made himself stand up, he shook Hunter’s hand before Hunter stepped around him and pulled Sebastian into a hug and then Blaine did the same with Tony. She felt small and helpless in his arms even though he knew she was anything but. No real words were exchanged between the four of them and it was probably better that way.

“Just give me two minutes…” He pleaded when Hunter pulled out the cuffs.

And Ras who usually jumped at the sight of Freya and the chance to lick her pretty little frowning face held back. He must have known something was wrong. Blaine bent down and kissed the top of the pups nose and ruffled his fur. “Take good care of your papa for me, yeah? I’ll be back before you know it.” The dog licked his face a few times before doing his duty and moving to stand next to Seb. Freya moved toward Blaine and at first Blaine was afraid that she’d changed her mind and she was going to come with him even though she was supposed to stay here to guard and keep Sebastian safe, but she looked at him and told him to come home in their special Witch/Familiar language. She pressed her face to his for a moment and then moved to stand on the other side of Seb though Blaine could tell she was fighting against her nature. Familiars were supposed to be with their Witches during trials, but she knew how important this was.

Blaine stood, his eyes settling on Sebastian’s face, his boyfriend looking just as drained as him, but he was still the most beautiful person Blaine had ever seen in his life. He ached to run to him and cling onto him and tell Hunter they could just kill him here, but he knew he needed to plead his case. He stepped up to Seb, one hand cupping his face and turning it to look at him, the other going around his waist to pull him close. Blaine went up on his tip toes for one last kiss, letting his lips linger over his boyfriends for a long moment, knowing that the seconds were ticking and Hunter was already being generous with time. He signed and pulled back, and let his thumb brush over Seb’s lips. His other hand moved to press his mom’s crystal against Seb’s heart again, as if to remind himself that it was there. She was with him too. His breath hitched and he felt like he could collapse at any second and the tears were brimming and threatening, but he kept them in, trying his hardest to keep it together and be strong for Seb. What could he say that hadn’t already been said? He didn’t know so he settled on the simplest.

“Remember that I love you. And if they make you forget me, try to remember that someone loved you more than anything in the world..”

With that he let his hands drop and turned toward Hunter, holding them out to him so the enchanted restraints could be attached to his wrists. He kept his eyes on Sebastian the whole time, hoping he’d done enough to show how much Seb meant to him. The restraints were already draining him, making him more compliant even though he hadn’t put up a single fight at all. He watched as Hunter and Tony gave a regretful nod to Seb and before he could say much else he was being ushered away from his Sebastian.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian nuzzled into Blaine’s chest and nodded. He was usually pretty leery about taking potions and abusing the other’s magic but at this point, what was the use? Like B had said, the trial could take days and he was ordered to lay low the entire time. He was thankful Blaine had thought ahead because he was sure he was going to be miserable without Blaine or Hunter around.

All at once, Freya was in the room and Hunter was there with intimidating looking handcuffs and Tony was red eyed and tired looking. Sebastian couldn’t speak or focus as Hunter pulled him into a long hug. The tears were back and they streamed down his face as his best friend stepped away.

Sebastian looked down at Blaine and sniffed. He didn’t want this to be goodbye, couldn’t imagine what was next for them, wished he wasn’t too scared to fight every hunter and witch. There were too many feelings and thoughts fighting for control of his mind and all he could do was nod and cry. Seb wanted to say that there was nobody else out there for him, wanted to say that Blaine was the best person he knew and that he had made him so much better. All he could strangle out was a sad, “I love you back.” Freya nudged his calf with her furry forehead and Ras whined as Hunter clamped the cuffs onto Blaine Sebastian made sure he kept his eyes on Blaine the entire time, even as he was crying and little sad sobs fell from his lips.

After the three of them left the apartment, he fell to the floor in a crumple. Freya and Ras lay next to him as he sobbed, he had never had a reaction like this before. Sebastian didn’t know how long he had been crying but felt like he would never stop, like some sort of tragic fairytale character. Maybe he would flood Boston and Blaine would get carried away to safety.

After what could have been mere minutes or torturous hours, his throat was sore, his nose was runny and his entire body shook from exhaustion. At some point, Sebastian had cried himself to sleep with Ras’ head on his hip as Freya purred next to his face, the thrum of the crystal tucked away next to his heart.

/fin.

-To be concluded in part 3 within the next few weeks.

#seblaine #seblaine smut #and it's my whole heart pt2 #seblaine witch rp #seblaine 1x1 rp #seblaine para #para #sebpara #smythesm #andersoncharm

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