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dreams-poetry-art-therapy · 6 months

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Maybe I need some distance from my friends [14- 15.10.2023]

I'm waking up later and later by the day. Yesterday, it was about 12am, I luckily was able to sleep well after the birthday party last night despite my sleep anxiety.

In the evening, I met with Y to go accessory shopping for a party on where they will film scenes for a Netflix series. Of course, I was already stressing about my outfit since I heard about the event. Meeting Y, I always know there will be something fun happening and that is part of why I like her so much. In the store, the store assistant started helping us when she was trying on some hats and basically shamed Y for wanting to buy the cheapest thing possible. "You can just buy china stuff then". She was a cosplayer she told us and my negative stereotypes keep getting confirmed.

Afterwards, we stayed freezing in the subway station while I told her about the story of my crazy ex roommate which I apparently hadn't told her about even though it's an integral part of my recent history and thus, of my personality.

I love that it is autumn now. I feel like the whe city is telling me to calm down, wear pullovers, drink tea and focus on sewing and studying. Berlin is saying to me "It's okay if you're tired, I'm tired too". As much as I love summer, I am happy he left for now, giving me a whole season to proces, relax and recover.

I did a walk in the evening just to appreciate the murky grey sky and the yellow street lights until the sun fully set and it was dark.

After some back and forth, I managed to meet up with M to go to a party in a squatted house and also was looking forward to see G there later.

I keep being surprised I really became friends with M, the first friend since over a year that I didn't meet at a party.

So, we went to the squat, kind of nervous about if we looked "cool" enough, but there was no bouncer, just a low entry fee and then a big room full of grafitti. M turned to me and said in a low voice: "This is punk, right?". Out of nervous it's over getting in I hadn't paid attention to the music until then, but she was right. Everybody around us was wearing black leather or jeans vests, dreadlocks and iros everywhere. This was clearly not a techno party. We creeped inside, suddenly hyperaware of our outfits and the fact that we clearly didn't fit it, squeezed into the last corner at the back of the dance floor (do you even call it dance floor if nobody is dancing) and tried to not attract anybody's attention while making jokes in a low voice to confirm to each other that this was funny and not disappointing. I couldn't really get into the music of the band that was playing but I enjoyed people watching. While observing the punks bumping their fists in the air and headbanging, I wondered what their opinion on a techno party would be.

Outside, M told me about the first weeks in her stay abroad in Belgium. We still talked low when other people were around, scared to say something that would be problematic to the punk crowd, when we suddenly heard a guy next to us say "... down to the techno cellar". M and I stared at each other, we hadn't been wrong about the event then!

As it turned out, the same venue simply hosted two events with two separate entries and we simply hadn't seen the entrance to the cellar. Inside, I instantly felt integrated and at the right place again. The music wasn't too good, especially in the beginning when the dance floor was still basically empty. The atmosphere was completely different; people dancing by themselves with their eyes closed, sporty outfits, awareness team. When the music got a bit better, I really started to feel dancy again, closed my eyes and did so, realizing I hadn't "really" danced like this in 1.5 months. In Portugal, the focus had always in the end been on interacting with the people there.

M and her boyfriend left at 1:30 and right when I went to bring them outside, I received Gs text that she was coming as well. She had been texting me before that she was too tired and in usual Holly-manner I had tried and failed to be understanding and empathetic and not pissed at her for canceling last minute. Now, she was coming after all. She didn't like the music either because it wasn't hardstyle enough for her and she was still tired, despite doing coke. I was happy to see CL again, though, who also came with her boyfriend and other friends of G.

The last hour of the party I spent laying/sitting on a couch with G and removing the bubbles from a water. Random guys sat next to me and started talking to me and I started calculating at what time I have to get home to get enough sleep until the next day.

When we left, G was still a bit disappointed because of the music. We took a bus together and talked about meeting up to do arts and crafts together. Making plans with friends always makes my whole body warm up with excitement.

Then I was home. It was 6am and I was tired. Insomnia. My brain was too tired to form coherent thought, my body was so exhausted I could barely turn around and I couldn't sleep. Sleep anxiety. Telling myself I still have more or less enough time and I can also go to the event tomorrow tired only helped a bit. How can my body have insomnia when it's 6am and I was up all night, how can that even be physically possible?? I deliberately didn't look at the clock but I think I didn't sleep before 8am.

The next day, I woke up correspondingly whacked, still wondering how I can suddenly have such strong insomnia. I continued cleaning my disorganized flat.

Then the messages arrived in the group chat. The protest and people thought about going. C, with whom I wanted to go to the Netflix event later thought to just pass by the protest. My astonishment at her unrealistic time planning mixed with some type of impotent anxiety at the realization that everyone disagrees with me on this topic and everyone disagrees strongly.

Also, the time planning, as always. C was helping Y with her move and I knew they wouldn't be able to meet on time at C's place to get ready, especially when none of them answered when I started asking about it. I ended up calling C, and told them that we needed to meet soon or we wouldn't make it.

Waiting for the bus, I reached my emotional down of the weekend. I read a tiny piece of news, just to confirm my most basic knowledge about the Gaza conflict. I couldn't believe how people I loved and cherished so much could believe so strongly in the opposite of what I believed in. And the conflict itself made me feel a dull terror of what humans could do to each other. I ended up making a donation to a humanitarian organization, just to do something about the sharp pain in my chest, to do something against the suffocating sense of powerlessness. In the bus, I saw many police cars pass us. For sure they were there for the protest.

When I met Y and C, everything was fine again. The beginning of the Netflix party had been postponed by an hour and we just talked about the event, our outfits and the food that we were eating. Getting ready at her place was stressful but happy. We were doing what we always did together again, what we were good at together.

At the event, everything was a lot more relaxed than I had expected by the e-mails they had sent. Without any problems, we got our wristbands and went inside, where we met friends of C and also H. There were a lot less people there than I expected, though and the light was too bright to really feel like an authentic party. But anyways, Netflix filmed it and we danced away. They had an open bar and kept giving out shots. I tried and failed to get drunk. My urge to get drunk had to always fight with my responsible brain that told me it was Sunday, I knew I wasn't feeling my best and I was starting university the next day which ended up in me drinking enough to have a headache the next day but not really feel drunk there. What a waste of alcohol.

I really liked talking to H, he has got to be the most hyperactive and social person I've ever met and I love it. He kept talking to and knowing everyone. Once, he took off his shirt and layed it on a wall for me to sit on because there had been drinks spilled over it. His kindness reminds me of the first time I met M and A.

At the end of the night, Y puked because she took keta while she was already drunk and I held her hair. Then we all went home except for H even though he also has his first week of university tomorrow and he plans to party less but we all know what that means.

C waited with me for my last bus, probably also because her Mdma started kicking in then and we chatted more about my Portugal debouchery.

Despite having a relatively good time, I can't shake the feeling of this political difference being between us. Whenever I read any piece of news about it, my whole body cramps up and I feel a useless, powerless, dull anger. I thought about doing grafitti to voice my opinion because I don't feel safe voicing it any other way. At least not safe of my friendships.

I wondered if I should take some distance from my friends for a while. It feels like since this thing happened, I notice more and more things where I am different from the, things that I never even noticed before. Of course, our friendship is widely based on partying together, and I feel like I wanna do that less at least for the winter season. I feel like none them still really get why I stopped doing drugs. They would never judge me for it but it's another thing that we don't have in common anymore. And their unreliability annoys me just as much as in the beginning.

I wondered if I need a break, a party free beginning of autumn that can also give me time to focus on the things I want to focus on since ages: Parcour, fitness, my art, health. This conflict might be an opportunity to push myself that way.

#d3 #diary #gaza #israel #hamas #poltics #political differences #friends #friendship #friend group

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emptysunsetsandemptybeds · 2 years

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Dog Days

From where I am sitting at my kitchen table you can see much of downtown. The little cars going about their day. The bikers fighting for dominance on the road. The young and hopeful teenagers riding the scooters. There is a man skateboarding while blowing on a trumpet. It’s amusing. All with their own lives. Their own goals. Their own dreams and ambitions. Their sorrow. Their pain. Their happiness. It’s always been one of the more curious things for me, knowing that every person you see has a little world and tale of their own to tell. We never really think about it, as we’re stuck in our own little worlds with blinders on to many of the outside players within. One of my favorite things about my apartment is that my windows face eastward, so the downtown skyline is directly outside of my window. During the evening the sunset shines directly on the buildings and casts a golden almost painting like feature on the city. It’s beautiful. I sit here with the window open as I’m writing, my Cthulhu goblet full of wine. Unfortunately all my wine glasses broke. Some by my last violent roommate. Some in the sink. I guess I need to buy more. As well as two more kitchen chairs to match the two new ones I just received.

Each time the breeze comes through the window, I can smell the scent of summer dying slowly. It’s peaceful. Simple. Everything this summer hasn’t been.

I should be back at their house, instead of here. I decided to leave after practice today instead of stay and party. Thursdays are the new Fridays. So I should be drinking myself stupid with vodka and tequila, and snorting enough lines to make me make terrible decisions until the next morning. But, I've not been partaking. I’d rather come home and watch the sunset paint the city, and pick up my child’s leftover cheerios he dropped on the floor when he was here earlier. Put a song on repeat as I type out at the window and drink a few glasses of wine. And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll get around to putting my laundry away from yesterday. Simple. Peaceful. I wonder when I became so complacent to simplicity. To choosing nothing over the lifestyle I’ve lived for so long. It was just another change in a long string of changes to try and find what makes me happy. And yet, happy is too strong a word. Content? No. Because I’m still searching. I just am. And even now, I feel myself slipping further and further away from those close to me. The last few I have remaining. Whether it is me subconsciously pushing others away and putting myself in self-isolation or not I don’t know. I just don’t feel connected to most of them anymore. I could never tell them this though. I wouldn’t want them to be upset. Because they’re still everything to me. It’s just me though. I should be used to this by now. Every time I try and make positive changes in my life, I end up losing more than I gain. That old piece of me that still lives in the bowels of my lonely heart screams out to be free. Indulge in my vices because there is no point in trying to live this simple life of peace. And most of the time I think he’s right. I feel like a fool, thinking I could change my life to something like this. I am a moon child. A creature of the night. There is no salvation for someone like me. There never was. In my mind and heart, I have a vision for what I want my life to be like. Both my personal life and my professional. And it was never something that I was allowed to obtain in the first place. People like me are meant to burn out and fade quickly. Yet, I am still here chasing this silly little dream of mine. Alone with my thoughts on the precipice of autumn. The sun has set at this point. And now the lights of the city shine brightly. Like glimmering beacons of hope in a sea of melancholy and apathy. I wonder how long these Dog Days will last.

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wherethewordsare · 3 years

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a. I have accidentally unfollowed you because Tumblr puts buttons too close together.

b. I have A PROMPT. Specifically from your list of 50. 8 and/or 21. I just want something soft from you.

a: I love you <3

b: thank you @softnerdypeter for beta reading this for me <3

21. Blind date set up by friends

Oh, It’s You

Eskel had cornered Geralt in the firehouse kitchen. Again. This time with that look that used to trick Geralt into the worst trouble when they were kids.

“Don’t automatically say no,” Eskel said with a laugh.

“No.” Geralt turned to hide his smile.

“Geralt, she’s really pretty though. And she has this friend that apparently has been moping and she said she’d feel better if he also had a date.” Eskel walked around the table and took Geralt’s plate, holding it away. “Besides, you’ve been moping too and you refuse to ask that musician out even though you know damn well-”

“Fine, I’ll go, but you don’t get to berate me after this. One date. That’s it. Then you leave me be,” he growled, snatching his plate back, sending his cherry tomatoes rolling onto the floor. He only glared at his brother when he laughed.

“Alright, Wolf. Just bring your most sunny personality to the fair Friday.” Eskel chuckled as he bent down, scooping up the tomatoes and tossing them into the sink. He strolled away, looking all too much like the cat that caught the canary.

“You’re taking my shift on the dunk tank!” Geralt shouted after him with a shake of his head. “Bastard.”

He hated how fast his phone was in his hand to text Jaskier.

Es finally trapped me into a blind date. Fucker.

Within a second, a message that didn’t feel like a response popped up on his screen.

I have a date on Friday? my friend set it up. I kinda don’t wanna go.

Geralt tried to ignore the way his gut twisted at the idea of Jaskier going out with someone else. He wasn’t sure what to say back. It wasn’t like he didn’t also have a date that night. His phone buzzed again in his hand, showing an incoming call.

“She said his name is Gary!” Jaskier whined. There was a clattering in the background and Geralt leaned against the counter. He could close his eyes and see Jaskier making his lunch. “Who names their kid Gary? I bet he’s hideous!” There was a huff.

“I guess this means we’ll have to cancel movie night?” Geralt hummed as he bit into a fork full of salad, sans tomatoes. “But who knows,” Geralt winced only because he knew Jaskier couldn’t see, “the guy might surprise you?”

There was a gasp on the other end of the line. “You wanna stand up our dates and just meet up for a movie anyways?” Jaskier laughed but the sound died quickly. “Unless you’re looking forward to the date.” There was something like disappointment in his voice that could have only been chalked up to missing out on the movie and shitty take-out.

“I would, but Eskel would kill me,” Geralt reasoned with a hum.

“You’re gonna get a play-by-play of how terrible this guy is,” Jaskier promised with a laugh. There was a bang and a curse. “Ah shit, my frittata! I gotta go.” The line was dead before Geralt could say anything else.

He tried to ignore the way his chest tightened as he shoved another bite into his mouth. He was almost glad when the firehouse alarm went off.

Friday came quickly. He rode to the fair with Eskel, who was chatting more than usual, clearly nervous about his date with the nurse he couldn’t seem to get over since the last time he ended up in the ER with a burn.

Geralt couldn’t blame him, really. Anything that made his brothers happy was fine by him, but he wished that he didn’t have to hear the same story about Eskel finally asking her out again. It was just a constant reminder that he still hadn’t swallowed his pride enough when it came to Jaskier.

“Where am I supposed to be?” Geralt managed to ask, his arms crossed over his chest as they pulled into the dirt lot.

“There’s a ticket booth towards the center. I think she told him to meet you there,” Eskel was checking his hair in the mirror again and only stopped when he caught Geralt rolling his eyes. “Listen, we can’t all be as pretty as you,” he shot across the bench.

“Finally, something you’ve said that makes sense,” he snorted. He climbed out of the truck and shut the door on Eskel before he could make a comeback.

It was still early, so the fairgrounds weren’t crowded just yet. He was thankful for that at least. The place would be packed before too long. He was already coming up with reasons to cut the night short as he leaned against the back of the booth, his phone in hand. He was making an attempt not to text Jaskier. He didn’t want to interrupt his date, even if he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Geralt pulled up their conversation anyways, scrolling through as he realized that he wasn’t even sure where Jaskier was going tonight.

“Geralt?” There was a pair of dusty converse in front of him.

He looked up and his heart sank for a moment. Jaskier was standing there, his bright eyes catching the lights from the ferris wheel. Geralt wasn’t looking forward to having to actually watch him on his date. There had been too many nights at too many bars where he watched Jaskier flirt with everyone. Almost everyone.

“What are you doing here, Jask?” He half flinched as he realized how gruff he had sounded. Geralt looked around, expecting to see someone coming to collect Jaskier but there was no one else there.

“Oh,” Jaskier whispered softly. A series of emotions flew across his face all at once before he simply beamed at Geralt. “Oh!” He was laughing then, leaning into Geralt’s personal space. “Gary,” he cackled.

He scowled at Jaskier, but then it also dawned on him and he huffed. “Oh. It’s you,” he hummed, looking around. He wondered remotely if Eskel had done this on purpose. His date was Jaskier. Or it was supposed to be.

Maybe, he shuffled from foot to foot for a moment, maybe it still could be.

“Well, I know I’m not nearly as good looking as this Gary was supposed to be,” Geralt mused, “but maybe we could still…” He gestured around them vaguely.

Jaskier looked up at him again, those same emotions Geralt couldn’t read from before flitting across his face before his eyes softened. He stepped forward, sliding his arm into Geralt’s with a smile. “Far more handsome than anyone I could have imagined, dear heart.” He gave Geralt’s arm a little squeeze. “Buy me a caramel apple and tell me you like my shirt?” Jaskier teased.

Geralt snorted as he moved them forward. “You mean my shirt you stole?” He didn’t miss the way Jaskier fell in step beside him, their arms still linked.

“Next time don’t leave your laundry in my dryer,” Jaskier chuckled. Then he was looking down as he pulled them both to a stop for a moment in the middle of the fairway. “Geralt, just so I’m clear-”

“This is a date,” Geralt blurted before he could stop himself. “I… if you want it to be.” Part of him wanted to pull away. He’d done it now and there was no going back. He had known Jaskier for three years and for a moment he thought it crash down around him. Jaskier only smiled back at him, looking relieved.

“Yeah, yeah I do. But only if-” he started.

“Caramel apple.” Geralt raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“Date it is then.” Jaskier let himself be led around the fair, always touching Geralt as they went.

It felt nice, having the weight and warmth beside him as the early autumn air started to set in.

They found themselves in front of the dunk tank where Eskel was sitting up on the platform, that smirk of his still firmly in place.

He had known! Geralt huffed and glared at his brother. He was leaning out of the tank slightly to high-five a slender woman with dark hair. She looked over and waved to Jaskier with a smile.

“Hey, do you want the horse or the alien stuffie?” He asked as he marched up to the booth. He watched with a grin as Eskel’s own smile dropped. “You know what, I’ll win you both.”

Jaskier only looked at him with confusion then glanced across. “Oh. Were we played?” He sounded smug as he handed Geralt his own tickets.

Geralt landed not only the first shot, but the next three after, sending Eskel plunging down into the water below. When he handed Jaskier both of the rewards he was passed a caramel apple already missing a bite.

Three years suddenly seemed to hinge on the moment as he took the apple and leaned forward, past the oversized head of the alien in Jaskier’s arm. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth, slow enough that he could have pulled away.

Jaskier didn’t pull away. Instead, he turned his face and let their mouths slot together more firmly, smiling all the while.

“Took you long enough,” he pulled away just enough to murmur before pressing in again.

“Movie night tomorrow?” Geralt asked when they finally broke apart. He felt like he was vibrating in his boots.

“It’s a date.”

It certainly was going to be, Geralt decided. He’d make sure it would be a good one too.

#geraskier #modern au #blind date #prompt fill #jay writes #for my darling love #kuri i hope you like this

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

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Rainy Day

Frederick Chilton x Reader

For @storiesofsvu’s Fall Bingo! Requested by a discord friend (& basically co-written by—this is all her idea!)

Warnings: Post-burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. Chilton goes for a walk and gets rained on. It’s too late for an umbrella to help, but you’ll offer anyway.

1,200 words

The clouds darkened by a shade with every painfully slow step he took toward the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Out across the bay, thunder rolled low and distant. The sidewalk was dry, but he could not yet see the hospital rising above the suburban city outskirts. Knowing his luck, the storm would speed up in his direction, outpacing his retreat.

Dr. Frederick Chilton could only move so fast these days.

His joints ached, his muscle tone was still diminished, and his skin… his skin was far too tight. Gods—he remembered one time, in a pique of fashion, he had tried on those skinny jeans the hipsters were so fond of. He nearly had to be surgically removed from the constricting garment. That was what it felt like all the time now—the burn scars surrounding his legs’ circumference were their own overly tight fabric.

Walking was part of his daily physical therapy regimen, which he attempted to do over lunch. He was the BSHCI’s administrator again after a year-long recovery. The familiar job was the best place for him now. In the old days, he saw running the hospital as a position of prestige—a launching board for fame as a criminal psychiatrist. Now, he saw it as it was—a place to hide in anonymity. A place he could languish, simply coasting without worrying about fans or interviews in front of cameras promoting his latest novel.

The trees whispered as a cold rush of wind struck his face. Rain began to fall.

From the first day he met you, you always looked at him with such kindness. Nothing like his other staff. You were a little reserved, a bit shy. Didn’t seem to mix with the others either, like him. You smiled all the time, like he used to do when he was young and still thought he could be friends with everyone, before he discovered how they spoke about him when he was not in the room, unaware of his monitoring devices. But you never spoke that way.

How he wished he had said something sooner.

Dark circles pattered into existence on the grey pavement. The few other pedestrians out on the street began to sprint for shelter, and then he was alone. Beneath the red-and-orange leaved street trees, mirror images of the canopy were painted on the dry sidewalk. The musty smell of earth filled his nose.

The day Frederick Chilton left the BSHCI to tour his book, Hannibal the Cannibal, he thought he was such a bigshot.

There were more important things to do than pursue romance with a lowly secretary who made his heart beat faster. He was finally on his way to national acclaim. There would be more romances on his rise—partners more befitting his station.

He left you behind without ever telling you…

Rain was pouring now—heavy, round droplets that beat against the ground and soaked through his suit. Cold.

A car driving too fast deliberately swerved into a puddle at the curb to splash him, and dirty water pelted his leg. He jumped back and swore, angrily shaking his cane at their taillights, but it hardly mattered. The suit was already ruined. It was worsted wool of the finest quality, and the chances of it drying correctly were slim.

He already had to buy new suits tailored to fit his gaunt body.

The last thing he remembered was the smell of gasoline smoke and his own flesh burning, then waking up in a white room, unable to move his limbs.

Pain everywhere.

For the first few weeks, it was so ubiquitous, so searing, he couldn’t even remember that his lips were gone.

Hypermetabolism and six months of bed rest reduced his body mass by 70 pounds. He lost so much: skin, lips, independence. But he gained something, too.

A soft knock.

Your shy voice at the door.

The breeze howled, ripping off yellow leaves from branches and setting them spiraling into the grey sky. Frederick hugged his arms around his shivering body, but it was a futile gesture against the autumn chill.

You were his one regular visitor in the hospital. Though he was a snarling, angry, nearly feral creature at first, trapped in a chrysalis of humiliation and pain, you tolerated it. Found ways to made him laugh—a dark and cynical bark—and eventually even smile. He enjoyed your company, and you seemed to enjoy his. The witty conversations would last until visiting hours were over, and a nurse shooed you out.

When he learned that you still worked at the BSHCI, it cemented his decision to return.

After all this time, someone was waiting for him.

Squinting his eyes through the rivulets of water running down his forehead, Frederick noticed a splash of bright red at the end of the block. It grew larger, coming toward him. The Red Death coming for Prospero was his first superstitious thought, or an envoy of the Red Dragon come to finish him off where his master failed.

As the figure jogged closer and came into focus, Frederick realized it was not the red of blood and death, but the red of a rose—of life and passion. You held up the umbrella against the downpour, your boots splashing through puddles as you hurried to reach him.

When your soft hands held his ghastly, mutilated, scarred claws, he felt like a monster, not a lover. He was broken. He had loved you for so long, but he was too broken now—it was pointless. A walking corpse (who could barely walk, at that) should not attach himself like an anchor to someone so lovely and full of life.

You were kind and gentle and patient, and he was a burden.

Why did he wait to tell you? Why did he think promoting a book was more important than being near the one person to make him feel like a decent man?

“Found you!” you panted for breath, sides expanding and falling rapidly. “I saw the weather… and I noticed you… didn’t take…” You stood close and held up the umbrella to shelter him.

Above, the constant pelting of freezing droplets on his forehead transformed into the low roar of rain hitting a tent roof. His drenched suit continued to drip. The $2,000 real-hair wig was plastered to his scorched-bald scalp like a drowned rat.

“I am not certain this will make any difference,” he let out a small laugh at the umbrella that arrived too late.

“You’ve been through enough,” you smiled sadly. “Let me help where I can.”

“That is kind of you.”

Without being prompted, he reached out for your hand and let it warm his icy fingertips. You leaned against his chest, unconcerned that your own clothes were getting wet, and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his cheek. It was too chilly a day for him to grumble and withdraw from your affection, calling himself a monster. He was freezing to the bone, and the heat of your lips felt too good.

It was too late, wasn’t it? Too late for love; too late to be saved.

He turned and nuzzled your neck, nipping the soft, salty skin there. It was a much more comforting sensation to focus on than the clinging of his wet clothes. And he was glad, as you walked back to the BSHCI together, that no new raindrops fell on his head.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Taglist:

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @isvvc-pvscvl / @shroomiehomie / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq / @madpanda75 / @alwaysachorusgirl / @bananas-pajamas / @leanor-min / @mad-girl-without-a-box / @katierpblogg / @worldofvixen / @sassyada / @detectivebarba

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #storiesofsvufallbingo

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

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Prompt- Rhys gets sick and feyre becomes mother hen👀

Sick Day

Fluff//1865 words

Cassian grinned. “I told Mor she shouldn’t do it. It wasn’t my fault.”

“Sure you did, Cass.”

“Don’t sound so skeptical! I am your general, one of the highest ranking officers in your court, My Lady. I would never lie to you.”

Feyre smacked Cassian on the arm. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like, I don’t know, harass somebody else?”

He gave a wide smile. “Why would I do that when you’re right here?”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Gods, you-”

A loud cough cut Feyre off.

Feyre glanced at the ceiling as if she could see her mate through it. She could, in fact, sense where he was. “Do you think he’s okay?”

A tired sigh left Cassian. “I am so sick of listening to you to worry about each other every time the other one blinks funny. It was a cough, Feyre.”

Feyre bit her lip. “Okay.”

Nyx cooing distracted Feyre’s anxious thoughts and she turned to her baby. He was sitting in Cassian’s lap. For some unfathomable reason, Nyx found Cassian hilarious, and he would sit on his uncle’s lap and giggle at the sound of his voice. Or at least, Feyre hoped it was the sound of his voice. Should Feyre find her newborn actually knew what Cassian was saying, the male would be flayed alive.

“Hi, honey,” Feyre cooed back, waggling her fingers at her son.

Cassian snorted. “You’ve gotten so gooey.”

Feyre scowled. “Me? Never. That’s just Rhys.”

“I’ll admit, Rhys is more of a softie than you are, but you’re not the bitch you used to be.”

Feyre gasped. She picked up Nyx and held him close. “Don’t say such things! He’s only a baby.” Then she covered Nyx’s ears and added, “And for the record, I am still a bitch. Don’t forget it.”

Cassian cracked a smile. “If you say so.”

Before he could say anything more, another cough sounded upstairs.

Feyre handed Nyx hurriedly to Cassian, who just rolled his eyes. “Go on, check on Rhysie pie. Gods forbid he has allergies.”

“I would punch you if you weren’t holding my son.” With that, Feyre winnowed into her and her mate’s bedroom.

Rhys was lying in bed. The room was dark enough that Feyre couldn’t tell what his facial expression was right now, but she could sense his discomfort through the bond.

“What’s wrong, Rhys?” breathed Feyre, rushing to his side.

“Lord, you’re fussy today.” Rhys had been going for a sarcastic tone, but it came out raspy and weak.

Feyre crossed her arms. “Let’s skip all the bullshit about how you’re feeling well and refuse to say anything. What’s wrong?”

Scowling, though possibly more at the situation than at Feyre, Rhys silently opened his mental shields. And Feyre was met with affliction.

She was overcome by the sensation of gut-wrenching pains and full-body soreness. Her throat was sore and her hands were clammy. Feyre felt dizzy, nauseated, likely about to fall over-

Feyre pulled out of Rhys’ mind quickly. “You’re sick.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Rhys groaned. “You should go. Don’t want you to get it.”

Feyre snorted. “For one thing, I can just summon a shield around my body in protection. Rather simple.” Feyre did indeed erect a body wrap of sorts, made of magic. Then she added, “And anyway, I love you almost enough that I’d deal with that just to be with you.”

Rhys’ lips twitched slightly. “Almost?”

Feyre smiled back. “We have to think about the Court. Wouldn’t want both the High Lord and Lady out of action. It would be chaotic.”

Rhys laughed, a brittle sound.

“I’ll be right back,” Feyre said.

“Where are you going?”

She pulled the blanket up farther on her mate as his sweating turned to shivers. “I’m going to ask Cass to watch Nyx today. I don’t want him to catch it.”

“Good idea,” Rhys mumbled, his eyelids fluttering.

Feyre winnowed back. Cassian glanced up amusedly. “Did our precious High Lord get something in his throat?”

Feyre scowled. “He’s ill.”

“How ill?” Cassian asked, not buying it.

In response, Feyre entered his mind and sent over the feelings she’d experienced when she crossed Rhys’ shields.

“Fuck,” Cassian exclaimed. “Give a male a little warning next time.”

“Careful,” Feyre scolded. “You’re holding my son.”

Cassian righted himself. “He’s actually sick. Gods, I don’t think that’s happened since last century.”

A stray snort escaped the dignified high lady. “You old bastards. I was wondering how you would feel about watching Nyx today? He’s so young; I don’t know how he would handle catching what Rhys has.”

“Oh, of course.” Cass smirked and turned to Nyx. “I have some busy things to do today, little male. How would you feel about helping?”

Feyre knew this was absolute bullshit; Cassian wasn’t totally useless but he sure as hell didn’t have “busy things.”

But Nyx burbled excitedly. One of his little hands reached for a lock of Cassian’s hair and tugged, his tiny wings flapping slightly.

“It’s settled then. Your son will be learning how to run the Night Court today.”

“Right. Because that’s what you’re in charge of,” Feyre responded drying, but she couldn’t help smiling at Nyx.

Cassian grinned. “See you. Try not to get sick or I might have to keep Nyx forever.”

Feyre smiled. “Right.”

They exchanged farewells and Cassian turned toward the door of their manor. “Oh, and don’t break anything,” Feyre called after him. “And don’t break my son.”

Cassian didn’t even turn back; he just flipped Feyre off over his shoulder, holding the baby in one hand. Feyre smiled, but she wasn’t actually concerned. For all his goofing about, Cassian could be surprisingly responsible, and she knew he would take care of Nyx well. Satisfied her child was in good hands and safe from infection, she walked over to the other room.

After dismissing the staff for the day (pay still included, of course), Feyre made for the kitchen. She used her magic to light a fire under the stove and she placed a pot on top. Even with her abilities, she normally wasn’t lazy enough to use them for everything, but she wanted this going as quickly as possible.

Worried about Rhys, Feyre used her magic once more to speed along the chopping. After dumping the vegetables in the broth she’d put in, she winnowed back upstairs.

Rhys was semi-conscious, exhausted but too pained to reach sleep. “Rhys, wake up.”

Rhys moaned. “Piss off.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you stay like this. You’re too uncomfortable to sleep well, Rhys.” Feyre helped him sit up, countering all of his protests with promises of soup.

“You don’t need to make soup all by yourself just for me.”

A huff of breath left Feyre’s lips. “I kept my family alive for years. I know how to make soup.”

Rhys sighed in resignation. “It’s not really that bad.”

“You say that like you wouldn’t be calling five healers over and praying to the gods I don’t die if our positions were switched.”

“Fair enough. We can both be rather protective of each other. But-”

“No buts,” Feyre said firmly. “I’ll be right back with soup. Drink this in the meantime. You need lots of fluids.” She waved her hand, summoning a glass of water on their nightstand.

Rhys sighed but reached for it, which was enough for Feyre. She left the room.

Soup was ready five minutes later. Her magic had really sped up the process; she was impatient and wanting to be with her mate, who she heard coughing again. As soon as she could, Feyre made her way back upstairs.

“Hey, babe.”

Feyre snorted and made a tray appear on him lap. She set the bowl down. “Hey.”

The glass of water was still mostly full, but Rhys had taken a couple sips. Appeased, Feyre moved to the other side of the bed and sat down next to her mate.

Rhys sighed, but reached for the spoon.

As he slowly took little spoonfuls, Feyre placed her hand on his forehead, and found him without a fever. A good sign.

She began gently rubbing his back. He was cold, and Feyre let warmth deep through her fingers, courtesy of the Autumn Court’s fire in very small quantities.

Rhys sighed in content. “Maybe I should get sick every day.”

“If it’s the only way to get you to rest, I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad,” Feyre replied, smiling. Her hands kept moving on his back. “I heard last century was the last time you got sick?”

Rhys swallowed another spoonful. “I vomited on Keir.”

Feyre took a minute to process this. “You did what?”

Rhys grimaced. “I wasn’t feeling well, but I thought I’d be okay to make the trip. I clearly wasn’t.”

Feyre burst into laughter. “Oh my gods.”

“Stop that,” Rhys demanded. “You’re not supposed to make fun of me while I’m not feeling well.” His features transformed into a pout.

Feyre couldn’t stop a grin from making its way to her face. “No wonder Keir doesn’t like you.”

Rhys tried to scowl, but he smiled faintly. “I’ll admit, he was a bit more civil to me before that. Only a bit, though.”

Feyre positively cackled. “This is why I love you.”

“Because I accidentally projectile vomit on people I don’t like?”

“Precisely,” Feyre said.

More broth, as well as a small carrot, was swallowed. Rhys sighed pathetically and Feyre just watched him, still massaging his back, trying not to worry too much.

Sickness in Fae was rare, and it usually didn’t last for long, due to their strong immune systems. He must have caught it from somewhere, and Feyre decided to warn her friends later to be careful. Everyone would be fine, but having all her friends sick would be a hassle, to say the least. At least Nyx was safe; Cassian would definitely be staying away from others today. He wouldn’t admit it, but he could be overly fussy too.

Rhys slurped the rest of the broth out of the bowl, holding it up to his face, while Feyre chuckled at him. Then she sent the empty bowl away with a wave of her hand. “Time to rest, Rhys.”

Rhys just pouted at her. “I’m not tired.”

“Liar. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Rhys reluctantly let Feyre help him lie back against the pillow. Several moments later, they were both situated: Rhys was absolutely covered in blankets to fight off the chills and Feyre’s arms were around him, her magic still warming his body.

Feyre entered his mind and sent comforting thoughts over, as well as urges to rest. It didn’t take long before he was snoring.

Holding her mate, comforting him through even a mild ailment, couldn’t have felt more right. Feyre desperately wanted him to heal, and soon he would, but for now she was content to listen to him breathe and inhale his familiar scent.

As Feyre herself drifted off, she just hoped she could convince Rhys to let her in his mind and show her Keir’s expression after being vomited on. Because that was something she wanted to see.

———

Tag List:

@feysand-loml

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@infernoqueen19

#feysand #acotar #sick day #my writing

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fandomscombine · 3 years

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Make The First Move

George Weasley x Reader

BG: The Yule Ball is only a month away, but the boy you were hoping to ask you out still hasn’t make a move. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.

(With guess appearances of Fred and Cedric)

This is an entry for @heloisedaphnebrightmore ’s 1k Followers Writing Challenge

Fluff prompt #1 “Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?”

Fluff prompt #6 “If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it.”

Trope #8 Friends to lovers

WC: 2623

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

y/n l/n is not a girly girl. You would categorize your fashion mentality to value comfort and functionality more than style.

Yes, during the weekends, you do tend to rock a graphic tee, jeans, soft sneakers and a outwear of choice, depending on what you’re feeling that day- be it a leather jacket, causal blazer to a denim jacket.

Hey in your defence, the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is located isn’t exactly the warmest place, besides students are only allowed to wear casual clothes during the weekends.

But every now and then you do wanna pop on a skirt or a dress, especially when its warm outside.

This upcoming event though…. you, like everyone else is oh so very much do want to feel like a star! To feel elegant! Luxurious!

That’s right the Yule Ball is only a month away. It is all that is in every single student’s mind ever since it was announced. Who would their date to the ball be? What outfit would they wear?

A number of students had already picked their respective dates and dresses. However, a remaining select few have not done either- Like yourself. Time is running out and the pool of available potential partners is decreasing day by day.

You didn’t mind going alone, as long as you have a great time with friends, going alone it isn’t really a big deal. But there is a small childlike wishful thinking that wants to have a fairy tale experience.

It also isn’t helpful that you had started to develop feelings for a certain redheaded twin over the summer. You swear that he too felt the dynamic changed between the two of you- who knew that 3 weeks tinkering with joke shop ideas and fixing out the burrow’s garage could be so impactful.

Though now coming to think of it, could you have just read the signs all wrong? The lingering stares, the tighter and longer hugs… Could this be signs that he planning of ways to murder you? Because if this were all romantic signs, wouldn’t he have had asked you out to the ball by now? It was no secret that you hadn’t said yes to anyone yet.

So, what’s taking so long? George Weasley is one of the most confident and popular guys on campus. Surely, he wouldn’t chicken out or get nervous to ask you.

Right??

Pushing boy trouble aside, you focus back on the dress catalogue your mum had sent you earlier today.

Flipping through the pages, 2 dresses caught you eye. One was a short tule the other had a long side leg slit.

You were in the process of bookmarking the page when you felt the catalogue being pulled out of your grasp.

‘Hey!’ You instinctively shouted to the culprit.

‘What’s this?’ George said, turning to the front cover. ‘“Madam Bella’s Evening Gowns, Autumn/Winter 1994”’

‘Give it back George!’ You tried to take it from him, but he quickly held it above his head.

You stood on the bench in hopes to extend your reach. You could almost take hold-

‘Catch Freddie!’ Shouted George and threw it across the table.

Fred flipped to the dogeared pages. ‘Ahh..’ He was scanning through the choices you had circled. ‘Great choices indeed, my dear y/n!’

At first you weren’t sure if he was teasing you or being sincere.

That must had shown on your face as Fred continued, ‘I’m serious y/n/n!’ He placed his left hand on his heart and raise his right. ‘I swear! But you would look good in any dress anyway.’

You blushed at his compliment. ‘Thanks for the confidence boost Freddie.’

He hands back the catalogue to you, and as you took it, he whispered in your ear. ‘A little hint though,’ He shifts back a bit- now being face to face. ‘My vote is on the slit dress...’

Your brows scrunched together- was this boy seriously giving you fashion advice?

‘….I know George would like that..’ He steals a quick glance towards his twin, who has now turn bright red, both from being embarrassed and furious at him. ‘… I-I mean, it would match George’s dress robes.’

Fred sends you a final wink and bids you both goodbye.

You watch Fred exit the Great Hall, never letting him out of sight until he turns the corner. Which George to grateful for, as that had bought him time to calm his face down.

That was the one of the weirdest exchanges you’ve ever had yet, but you also couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to it.

George cleared his throat ‘So…y/n...Have you got a date yet?’

‘No why?’ You look over at him and you thought that you might give your hypothesis a try. Smirking hopefully, you asked ‘Are you gonna ask me?’

If you only knew what was going on inside of George’s head, the boy was panicking.

It was as if time slowed. Or it was because George’s thoughts are going a thousand miles a second.

Of course, he wanted to ask you to go with him!

But his brain was feeding him of insecurities. What if you didn’t want to go with him? What if you did say yes but only as a friend?

Plus, he didn’t want to ask you in front of all these people, thinking that you might be pressured by the crowd to agree.

No, he wanted to do it in a private, more intimate setting. Deserving of your beauty and grand place to confess his feelings.

He’d dream that in return you would say ‘Yes, I loved to go to the ball with you, George!’ and perhaps even say those 3 words he’s been dying to hear-more in the romantic nature than of friendship- and if he was lucky, maybe even share a kiss, that would be the best case scenario.

The worst-case scenario would be you rejecting him, possibly forever ruining the relationship with his best friend and having his heart broken- at least that case, nobody else would witness that.

‘Eh George?? Georgie?? Hello??’ You frantically wake a hand in front of him. ‘Earth to George Weasley!!!’

Great, when you finally had the courage to ask him to be your date-albeit indirectly- You broke him.

‘uuh.. I… I have to go...’ George looked like a deer caught in headlights

‘What?’

His eyes, dart upwards, thinking of an excuse. ‘Yes, I have to go… GO CLEAN MY SOCKS!’ Unfortunately, for him, in an uncharacteristic manner, he failed to think of a believable lie. ‘I’ll see you later!’

And with that he rushed out the Great Hall, leaving you once again gawking with a confused face at another Weasley twin.

You had your back against one of the rock formations near the Black lake, deciding which of the 2 dresses you would be wearing to the ball.

You were enjoying the last good sunny autumn days, taking in the sights of other students having a picnic on this beautiful Saturday. When suddenly a figure had landed right in front of you.

‘Ahhh!’ You had jumped in fright, causing you to slip a bit.

‘I got you, I got you!’ You felt arms holding you tight, preventing you from falling off the rocks.

Once you had regained your balance you check to see the perpetrator that had gave you a heart attack.

‘CEDRIC DIGGORY!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING THAT!!’

The boy chuckled. ‘I know y/n/n, but I just couldn’t help it!’

You narrowed your eyes at him. Which made him laugh even more.

‘You know you love me.’ He gushed, bring you into a hug.

‘And that is my weakness’ Your reply being muffled by his shoulder. You Cedric were as close as brother and sister, having basically grew up together as both your families super close. Your father is best friends with his father and so are your mothers ever since their Hogwarts days. Therefore, naturally you and Cedric have a close bond too, being joined at the hip since birth-the only time part was the 3 months that you are older by.

It has been a while since you two had caught up with each other, him being busy with the Triwizard Tournament ofcourse.

‘Have you got any idea about the second task?’

‘Yeahh’ Cedric gulped.

You crocked a brow. Not buying his bullshit.

Cedric scratched the back of his neck. ‘Fine, I haven’t….’ Gazing towards the lake, he continued. ‘But I think it’s got something to do about the water.’

You take hold of his hand. ‘Hey, it’s alright. You’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.’

‘Thanks y/n. I thought initially you wouldn’t be against me joining.’ He confessed.

‘You know I would support you no matter what. But don’t get me wrong, I’m worried for you Ced, always am. The tournament just upped it to level 1000! But I know that you have it in you to win this, to be the Triwizard Champion!’ You beamed. ‘Imagine that Ced, a Triwizard Champion in the family!’

‘It would be great, would it?’

‘Now to the matter at hand, The Yule Ball.’

‘What about it?’

‘Have you asked someone yet? You enquired.

‘Well there is this gorgeous lady that I’ve been meaning to ask…’ He hinted. ‘Though I am waiting for the right opportunity to ask her, you see everything has to be perfect!’

‘Awww, what an absolute sweetheart!’ You swooned.

Behind Cedric, you could have sworn that you saw someone in the trees. However, in your eagerness to know more of Cedric’s possible date, you brushed it off as the swaying of the branches and falling autumn leaves.

‘How about you? Has Mr. Beater asked you yet?’

You sighed. ‘Not exactly…’

Cedric leaned forward with hands on his chin, interested to hear more.

‘He asked if I had got a date yet, to which I said no. Then teased if he was gonna ask me.’ You recalled. ‘Then he froze. I guess I broke him, cause the next thing he said was that he’s got to go clean his socks.’

That had Cedric doubling over. ‘George really said that?!?!!?’ He had his arms wrapped around his stomach. ‘Clean his socks?!!??’

‘Yeah yeah yeah, laugh all you want Diggory. But you still hadn’t asked Cho out yet.’

‘Heyy! I told you I am waiting for the right moment!’

‘C’mon Ced, Sweet intentions aside. Cho has been declining offers to the ball, time is running out and I bet she is getting tired waiting for you to make a move, especially this close to the ball.’ You know how much Cedric likes Cho and hate to see him sad if and when Cho doesn’t get tired of waiting for him. ‘Sooner or later she might just say yes to some other guy, cause you’re talking so long!’

‘I’m sorry Cedric.’ You had realized that you projected your own frustrations on him. ‘I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.’

‘I know y/n, it’s alright really.’ He smiled, having come up with an idea ‘How about this, the next time you see George, YOU ask him out?’ He suggested.

‘ME?!?’

‘Yes.’ He insisted. ‘That why we would get a definite answer. And this time not more asking in an indirectly direct way. - We don’t want another system error in that head of his. Deal?’

‘Deal’

Picking up the discarded catalogue, he remarked. ‘Hmmm, I think that the long one would suit the occasion better, don’t you think? Being it a formal event and all.’

You agreed. ‘and you‘re not the first one to say that too.’ You muttered-more to yourself.

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing!’

‘So what color are you thinking? Blue or…’

‘Oh I got that all figured out! I was thinking that since the point of the Triwizard Tournament is school unity, I want the grown to be featuring my house colours.’

Fred had ran back to the Gryffindor dormitories as fast as he could. Glad to spot that his twin brother laying down on the bed.

As much as he enjoys teasing his siblings. He could no longer endure the obliviousness of his brother and y/n. He can no longer take the constant nonessential pining, especially when they obviously like each other.

Fred had been trying to get them together for the past month, but it seems that subtly pushing them to the right direction isn’t working. Which leaves him with no choice.

‘If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it’ Stated Fred.

‘What?’

‘I can’t take it anymore Georgie!’ He grabs his brother by the collar. ‘I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I KNOW YOU LIKE Y/N AND BELIEVE ME GEOGRE WHEN I SAY THAT SHE LIKES YOU BACK OKAY.’ Fred pleads, shaking George with each word. ‘AND YOU HAVE GOT TO MAKE A MOVE TODAY! NOW! ASK HER TO THE BALL BEFORE CEDRIC DOES.’

George now dizzy, mumbled. ‘What? How?.....How do you know this?’

‘I saw them together at the lake and me being the best brother that you have decided to eavesdrop.’ Fred admitted. ‘And guess what, Cedric plans to ask a gorgeous lady- y/n- to the yule ball but is just finding the perfect opportunity.’

‘Therefore, brother dearest, it’s only a matter of time til that happens. And I your very supportive wingman urge you to freaking ask y/n out RIGHT NOW before it’s too late.’

That news that Cedric might ask y/n to the ball before he does, had put George back into his senses.

In record time, George had tidy up his clothes and fixed his hair. ‘Right.’ He turned to Fred who was looking smug leaning on the door frame. ‘How do I look?’

‘Smashing.’

‘Great, Now get out of the way you prick.’

George was busy thinking on how to ask y/n out to the yule ball and possibly even side in the chance to ask to go on a date with him, when he accidentally bumped into someone.

‘Wooooahh careful George!’

Damnit! he thought, out of all the people in this huge school, he just had to bump into the one person he doesn’t want to see.

‘Diggory.’ George growled.

‘You two alright?’ Said a voice beside them.

In his annoyance towards Cedric, George hadn’t noticed that you were close by. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’

‘Heyy’ Cedric interrupted. George had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. ‘I’ll see you later okay?’

Cedric kissed your forehead and whispered. ‘Good luck.’

This was is. George interpreted that sibling affection as you going out with Cedric to the ball.

Accepting defeat, he cleared his throat. ‘I guess imma go too-‘

‘Wait George!’ You held onto his arm to prevent him from leaving. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Go ahead.’ Replied George, curious onto what it is that is so important to ask him.

‘Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?’

‘Hmm?’ George once again confused.

‘Gosh you are slow sometimes aren’t you.’ You chuckled. You take a step closer to him, coming up face to face. ‘George Weasley will you go to the ball with me?’

It took a second for George to believe what he was hearing. ‘YES!!’ He exclaimed then recomposed himself. ‘Yes, I would love to go to the ball with you.’

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he decided to take it one step further- cause what else has he got to lose? ‘Will you y/n l/n go on a date with me?’

You bring your arms to his neck, his him close. ‘I’d love nothing more.’ You grinned, pulling him into a long awaited kiss.

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #heloises1kwritingchallenge #george weasley imagine #george weasley #weasley x reader #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #fred and george #Fred and George Weasley #weasley twins #fandomscombine writes

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pillage-and-lute · 3 years

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Thicker Than Water (Part 4)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (here) Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

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He awoke sore and badly rested, tears dried on his face.

Jaskier made it through the next day. He ate a little of the food Ciri offered him, only because when he tried to decline the first time her eyes got large and her bottom lip showed just the barest hint of a tremble. He couldn’t bear it. The dry horse bread that was usual for traveling rations crumbled in his mouth. He was so hungry, it was one of the best things he’d ever tasted.

Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to even unsling his lute from his shoulder during their trek. His fingers itched to play, of course. He continued his story for Ciri and in his mind he played music for the background, he just couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t sell his lute in this next town, but before they reached Kaer Morhen he would have to. It would give them money, and he wouldn’t be a burden. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and continued telling Ciri the story.

He noticed a bit before mid day that Geralt was watching him. That wasn’t out of sorts, of course. Yennefer and Ciri were watching him too, he was an excellent storyteller and the tale was enthralling. Geralt didn’t seem to be paying attention to the story though. He was staring-- glowering--brow low and furrowed, at Jaskier.

Jaskier felt hurt lance through him and he almost staggered, avoiding Geralt’s gaze. He knew Geralt didn’t want him along, didn’t want him at all, but he couldn’t even pretend? He couldn’t go back to their relationship before? Not the warm, almost companionable silences that had been nurtured between them, but the grunts and stone faced silence of the beginning of their acquaintance.

Jaskier breathed through the pain in his chest. Twenty years of silences, all kinds of them, stony and friendly and sleepy and painful and quietly nice. But they were back to the beginning, or worse, Geralt angry and Jaskier’s voice filling in places it didn’t belong.

“Jaskier?”

That was Ciri, and Jaskier realized that he’d actually trailed off mid-sentence.

“Sorry little highness,” he smiled and gave a funny little bow. “I’m but a simple entertainer, a poet and a fool, sometimes my mind runs away from me.”

“Fool is right,” Yennefer snorted. It wasn’t totally unkind, but it still stung. It stung even more when Geralt, so taciturn all day, snorted with laughter at her comment. Jaskier felt his ears burn and his chest ache.

“Now, where was I?”

“The king’s son met the North Wind,” Ciri said, matching Jaskier’s steps. “And he has to beat him in a game of wit to gain knowledge of where the sorcerer’s daughter was taken, that’s what you said, but you didn’t tell us what game yet.”

At least someone treasured his words, Jaskier thought. Although they weren’t worth much, he threw one out after the other.

Like garbage, whispered the back of his mind.

“Ah yes,” he said instead. “the North Wind sat before the king’s son, and laid out a chess set made of ice and wind.”

“How can chess pieces be made of wind?”

Jaskier smiled, Ciri asked questions at all the right places. “The North Wind wanders, he goes everywhere, blowing cold breath across The Continent. When the North Wind is present and we breath our breath can be seen.” Jaskier smiled here and added an aside, “My little sister used to call it dragon smoke. But by the same magic that gives the North Wind a body to walk the world, he can take our frozen breath and turn it cold and solid as glass.”

Jaskier let himself tell the story on autopilot. His feet ached. He’d been darning the socks he was wearing for a year or more, but he wasn’t good at it and the lumps were rubbing his toes raw. Worse than that, the soles of his boots were almost worn through. Just one more thing he’d have to buy.

He felt ashamed of himself. His boots had been going thin for a while, and instead of saving his coin and getting them repaired or just buying new ones, he’d drowned himself in drink, feeling sorry. Oh, he hadn’t known he would be making a trip up a mountain, but he needed boots regardless. No wonder Geralt had always been upset with him, he always put pleasure over sense, couldn’t even spend coin sensibly.

Couldn’t darn socks, couldn’t budget his coin, couldn’t shut up. A fool.

He stumbled on a tree root and nearly swore. Couldn’t even walk right. One of the blisters building on his foot had burst, he was sure. It was easy to tell, the pain had gone from a rubbing ache to stinging and warm. Only years of practice and performance kept him from interrupting the story.

Something must have shown on his face though, or his scent changed or whatever because Geralt was staring at him intently. That face, always so unreadable.

Jaskier wasn’t going to give him anything else to scowl about. He kept walking, keeping the story rolling and his voice light. His bones ached. He had to stop for just a moment when a button, long past hanging loosely on his doublet, finally pulled free. He picked it up and the head rush nearly took him to the ground. He’d eaten little, slept poorly, and the only food he’d had in a long time before this was ale. He blinked the grey from his vision, trying not to let the panic show when it didn’t go away as quickly as he’d have liked.

It was okay. It was all going to be okay. They’d make it to the village by nightfall. They wouldn’t sleep there of course but he could get proper food. Maybe even slip away and catch a quick nap in a stable or hayloft or something. His whole body was buzzing with a sort of exhausted energy and his heart was pounding.

Jaskier reflected that he hadn’t been well before meeting up with Geralt and his little family. He’d been sick with drink and heartache and had not enough food then too.

Smile through the pain.

This wasn’t even bad as performances could go. Once he’d actually broken a finger just before a set at Oxenfurt. Simple clumsiness, he’d closed his index finger in a door, but he’d played his whole set, with a perfect score from his professor.

It grew darker, the sun just setting when they reached a field at the edge of the town. It was a large open field and, in warmer months, it was likely home to fairs and large market days. Probably in these rural areas people traveled for a week to bring their goods and livestock to this town. It didn’t matter now, mid autumn settling into late autumn. To Jaskier the town was nameless.

They set up camp in the field. It left them exposed to being seen, but they hid themselves behind a small rise on the edge of the field, blocking them mostly from sight. Still, Geralt seemed on edge. Jaskier wasn’t sure it was about the camp. Geralt kept looking over at him with his eyebrows pressed together. Whenever he did that it formed this little crease right between his brows that Jaskier wanted to kiss away.

Jaskier bit his lip, hard, to focus on anything other than that.

The three of them sat, too tired to talk much more. Jaskier had finished most of the story and decided to leave the rest for the next day they were traveling a lot, to give Ciri something else to think about. She was definitely Calanthe’s blood. They traveled all day and she never complained, but also told them when she needed to stop, advocating for herself in no uncertain terms. It was the princess herself who interrupted his thoughts.

“You said you had a sister, do you have lots of siblings?”

“Not really,” Jaskier said, settling down on the ground and feeling his bones pop. His blisters were definitely bleeding inside his boots too. “Two older brothers, Henrik and Teodor, and I had a younger sister, Lotte.”

“Had?”

“She was sickly, always too small for her age,” Jaskier said quietly. “I learned the lute for her, at first. She liked music and was often bedridden. A fever took her when she was about your age.” Jaskier looked down at his battered boots.

“I’m sorry,” Ciri whispered.

“It’s allright little highness, it’s been almost thirty years now. Time flies.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” Geralt said. It was growly, but Geralt always used that tone.

“You never really asked.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. Jaskier ate the last of the rations in his pack, waving away Ciri’s offerings and showing her his food as proof that he had some. It didn’t really settle the hunger that had been eating him from the inside out all day, but at this point he figured he could eat a mountain and still have room for dessert.

“Tomorrow,” Geralt said gruffly once dinner was cleared away. “We don’t all enter the town as a group. Yen and Ciri go together. I go alone. Jaskier goes alone.”

Jaskier nodded, so did Ciri and Yennefer.

“If we see eachother, act as though we don’t know eachother,” Geralt said, then he turned his gaze on Jaskier. “Don’t attract too much attention.”

Jaskier bristled at getting his own private reprimand. “I’m a bard, Geralt,” he said. “How am I supposed to earn coin if I don’t play.”

Geralt grunted. “I didn’t say don’t play just no... don’t do the whole...” he gestured a vauge hand.

“The whole...me?” Jaskier said sarcastically. He was pulling at the lion’s tail he knew, but he was in pain and tired and hungry and Geralt had no right to be so cruel.

“The whole bright colors, loud and annoying thing. Country bard, not court bard, got it?”

Loud and annoying.

“Got it,” Jaskier said, looking back down at his boots. He didn’t say that none of his clothes could have passed for courtly anymore anyway.

They set about getting ready for bed. Ciri gave him a quick hug before she and Yennefer disappeared into their magical tent. Jaskier sat and pulled off his boots, not letting a single flicker of pain show on his face. He knew Geralt would be able to smell blood, but Geralt had gone to get water from the nearby river. He had to peel his socks off and yes, there was blood there, by now stuck into the threadbare fabric. He let himself wince then. He rinsed off the wounds but he was without bandages, so he just dried off the area and put his other pair of socks on. He only had the two pairs anyway, but at least the blisters would stay dry.

He rolled himself into his bedroll and thought of tomorrow. At least there were no tree roots here.

The next day dawned slowly, instead of bright pinks and oranges it was a kind of runny yellow that just leeched into the sky before fading into early morning blue. Jaskier watched in admiration as Yennefer changed Geralt’s hair to short and dark, and then gave herself brown eyes and a slightly different bone structure. To look at both of them was odd, because Jaskier could see the similarities. Yennefer’s nose was changed and her cheekbones were a little different, but it was still her, and Geralt just looked like a different, although quite handsome, version of himself. Ciri was simply given mousy brown hair and some extra freckles.

Just like that, the perfect and all powerful family looked like two normal people and one witcher who was still clearly a witcher but not the white wolf. Jaskier shouldered his lute. He’d cleaned up the scruff he’d been growing into a more respectable look and with his longer hair and tatty cloak he looked like any poor traveling musician. If he’d traded the lute for a shortbow he could have looked like a woodsman, totally nondescript.

He was entering from a different direction, so as not to arouse suspicion, and so was Geralt. Jaskier began walking around, so that he could enter from the east. Yen and Ciri would walk into town the closest direction, and Geralt was entering from the west. This early, it was unlikely they would have been seen all together.

Jaskier made his way to the eastern edge of the town and walked in, scanning the streets. If this were a farm people would be up and awake long before now, farmers wake well before dawn, but this was a town, and so few people wandered the streets. Shop keepers were just beginning to open up. Jaskier bought a couple pears, slightly overripe but cheaper because of it, off of a fruit seller and had breakfast. He tried to lock into his mind all the shops around so he could find his supplies easiest later.

His mind was resisting him though. In spite of the softer ground, Jaskier had still slept badly last night. His body ached and he wished he could find somewhere warm to lay for an hour or two. Instead he found the well.

As wells should be, this one was right in the center of town. He set down his lute case beside it, tuned his lovely lady, and began to play.

In his very first few months after leaving Oxenfurt he had learned this trick, and used it often. If you get into a town early, play at the well. People get their water first thing in the morning and there you are.

A few young women with yokes and buckets smiled at him and he nodded in return. The day brightened a little further as the sun crept above the buildings and more people came to gather in the town square. They weren’t there to hear Jaskier, not at first, most of them came for water, or to chat with neighbors, or discuss business. Many of them gathered around him though.

Coins clattered into the case. Mostly coppers, but in a little town like this that was quite normal.

“As sweet Polly Oliver lay musing in bed, A sudden strange fancy came into her head. "Nor father nor mother shall make me false prove, I'll 'list as a soldier, and follow my love,” he sang.

“So early next morning she softly arose, And dressed herself up in her dead brother's clothes. She cut her hair close, and she stained her face brown, And went for a soldier to fair Rinde Town.”

Sweet Polly Oliver was one of his favorites, a simple country song about a girl and her lover in wartime. This town was far enough north that with luck Nilfgaard wouldn’t attack, but the anxiety threatened.

Jaskier gave a good performance, perhaps not his best, but he was tired and cold and the flagstones beneath his feet were very hard. He danced about, playing sweet folk songs and jigs and reels, delighting in the people who swept up and danced along. Still, though, he felt his feet bleeding inside his boots. He played from just after dawn until perhaps an hour after noon before bowing away and taking his coin.

He’d done better than he’d expected, but there wasn’t nearly enough coin for all the things he’d need for Kaer Morhen, and extra food to help Geralt and Ciri. He’d buy what he needed now, and they’d stop again in Ard Carraigh before the keep. He’d sell his lute there, it was a large city, and he’d get a good price. The thought still made him ache, though.

It wasn’t just his emotions causing him pain, he realised. The aches he’d been experiencing were in his chest lately, and both physical and emotional. He just needed more rest.

Jaskier slipped through back alleys and bent streets. He’d seen a stable on his way into town. He stepped in quietly, startling a stable hand, no more than a boy, who’d been quietly talking to a horse.

“You’re the bard,” he said. “Saw you in the square jus’ this morning.”

“That’s right,” Jaskier said, bowing a little. “I’m afraid I’ll be moving on this evening and--”

“And you want to have a kip in the stables,” said the boy. “Yeah lots o’ musicians and peddlers do that. Rule is though, I got to get a coin off ‘em first as payment. I’m sorry, but I get a beating if’n I don’t.”

“No worries,” Jaskier said, he’d expected as much. He handed the boy two copper coins. “There’s pay, won’t have you getting beaten for my sake, the second coin is to wake me in two hours.”

The boy gave him a lopsided grin. “You got it sir, thanks.”

Jaskier snuggled up in the hay loft. He’d often done it, it was pretty common, if you couldn’t buy a stay at an inn or especially if you just needed a ‘kip’ as the boy had said, during the day. He’d slept in haystacks once in a while on the road too. They were sort of comfortable and surprisingly warm and, best of all, robbers didn’t get you if you kept yourself mostly under the hay.

The scent of hay and oats and horses lulled him to sleep.

He dreamed about haystacks. For some reason Roach was in the haystack with him. Geralt and Ciri too, even Yennefer. It was a crowded haystack indeed, and it grew smaller and smaller until Jaskier had to leave it and sleep on the ground so that the others weren’t squished.

He awoke to the stable boy nudging him.

“Pardon me mister,” he said. “But it’s been two hours.”

Jaskier thanked him and brushed off his clothes.

The shops were doing a good trade this afternoon and he’d be sure to be a face in the crowd. He bought a small cooking pot and plenty of ground oats and barley for porridge at one shop. They were light to carry and owner packaged them nicely, first in one cheap, cloth drawstring bag, and then in another such bag, but with the drawstring on a different side, so he was unlikely to lose food.

In another stall he bought plenty of nuts, walnuts were cheap here and would keep well. Good for traveling and they had protein. Some dried jerky, dried peas, and dried lentils finished his food shopping, and also most of his coin.

It was three days to Ard Carraigh, another week to trek up to the keep. The food would sustain him for that long, and they’d probably just pool their food to make sure everyone was fed. Still, he wasn’t being a burden, not too much.

He couldn’t afford new boots, gloves, or a cloak right now, but with the last of his coin he bought a new pair of thick, warm socks, a small roll of bandages, and a couple pieces of candied ginger in a little paper twist. He tucked them all away and left the town, disappearing back to the field and their little camp well before the sun set.

Jaskier’s heart sunk to see that he was the last to arrive. Everything was packed up, they couldn’t risk staying in the same place two nights in a row. Geralt grunted at him, but didn’t unleash any thoughts on Jaskier being a burden, so he counted himself lucky.

He hung his head a little at having delayed their parting and trekked after the perfect little family, his pack much heavier than it had been. Ciri slid her hand into his and they walked on in silence. The hand was nice though.

In an odd way, it hurt, too. He wasn’t part of the family, so he didn’t really deserve this, but it was painfully good to have just a taste of being wanted.

What would happen, he wondered, when the winter was over. He was a danger to Geralt and Ciri if Nilfgaard found him. He wasn’t wanted by Geralt at all. Jaskier was reminded once again that it would be so much easier for Geralt to kill him, or for Yennefer to wipe his memory. Maybe he could fake his death to get Nilfgaard of his trail.

“Jaskier?” Ciri asked. “How did you become a bard?”

Jaskier looked down at her, maudlin thoughts interuppted. “Oh, well, it’s not as though you have to register, you just become one. Walking into an inn and saying ‘let me play for you pretty please I need food’ is a good start.”

“No,” Ciri giggled. “I meant, you said you learned the lute for your sister, but you write your own music and stuff too.”

“Oh, well, anyone can write music if they have an instrument and a good enough memory,” Jaskier said. “Indeed, many of the greatest bards had little education at all, I, however, studied at Oxenfurt.”

“Did you like it?”

“Sometimes. It was school, and some parts were dull but I learned much.”

“I heard some of the maids giggling once about a young scholar who’d come to stay with us,” Ciri said, matter of factly. “He was always in the library and was kind of snooty with me when I asked questions, but the maids were saying he certainly had a lot of ‘carnal knowledge’. Did you study that too?”

Jaskier was choking on thin air.

“I, um, no it was more of a hobby,” Jaskier said before his head could catch up with his mouth. “Little Highness, I suspect you weren’t supposed to hear that conversation, and no, I studied the seven liberal arts.”

“So it was about sex, I was never sure,” Ciri said.

Jaskier coughed awkwardly. “Yes, princess.”

“It’s okay, I know about that stuff, Grandmother explained it.”

Jaskier let out a breath, at least he wouldn’t have to be the one to explain anything to her.

“When you went to school were you scared to leave your family?” Ciri asked.

“No, pet, I was excited to go,” he wasn’t about to get into all his trauma with her, she had enough of her own, poor thing. “I couldn’t wait to learn about music and poetry.”

“Grandmother said all poets were silly romantics and dreamers, but I think that sounds nice. Do you have a moose?”

“A what?”

“I read it in a book, a moose, somebody you love and you write about it.”

“Oh, that’s one of the trickier words Ciri, it’s said ‘muse’, and yes, I had one or two.”

“Only one or two? In the book the poet had hundreds,” Ciri sounded almost disappointed.

“I only ever needed one,” Jaskier said quietly. “One that mattered anyway.”

“And your Countess still left you,” Geralt said, rather coldly. He was doing his annoyed face and Jaskier could have kicked himself. He’d been talking too much. The reminder that the Countess de Stael had left him too hurt, but Jaskier wasn’t going to risk Geralt’s ire to say that she wasn’t the muse he was talking about. That was maybe something he should keep to himself.

“Do muses often leave?” Ciri asked, wide eyed. “If somebody was writing me poetry I wouldn’t want to.”

“No, usually the poet does the leaving,” Jaskier said. “After his muse asks him to go. There’s a shelf life on a bard, you know. We only have so many stories and songs before we’re used up and no one wants us around anymore. That’s when we move along.”

“I’ll hear your stories again and again,” Ciri said. “I won’t ask you to go.”

Jaskier’s heart curled up and whimpered inside his chest. He’d have to go sooner or later, he’d have to leave her. Geralt would get sick of him, too sick to bear even for Ciri’s sake. Or Jaskier would just have to leave of his own volition, lest he shovel shit into her life too.

If he could give her life one blessing...

“This’ll do for a campsite,” Geralt said. It was a tiny, clear area. Jaskier almost groaned. It was surrounded by oak trees, with dropped acorns that would dig into his bedroll and mottle his back with bruises come morning. He’d had a good rest in town, though, so another bad night of sleep wouldn’t be too bad, he told himself.

The others had eaten in town. Jaskier said he had too, so he wouldn’t waste rations. He had plenty, but strangely, he wasn’t so hungry lately. Anyway, always best to save.

He pulled off his boots and his freshly bloodied socks. Ew. Ciri retired to the magic tent early, exhausted from their long days of walking. Jaskier listened to Yennefer and Geralt talk.

“We’ll need lots of supplies in Ard Carraigh,” Geralt was saying.

“We don’t have any money,” Yennefer replied.

Jaskier had his back to them as he cleaned the wounds on his feet, but he could picture grave expressions.

“We’ll get some, I’ll do a quick contract there, something. We’ll need a cart and pony to get Ciri up The Killer, it’s too much for her, it’s too hard for some witchers even.”

“That’ll cost,” Yennefer said. “But you’re right. I wish I could portal us but--”

“Tracking, exactly. There’s always plenty of contracts in cities, it’ll be fine.”

Jaskier looked at the blisters on his foot, they’d opened more with his long performance that day. It was no matter, he wound the bandages around them and put on his new, thick socks. At least his feet would be warm.

Not too warm, though. He spotted a hole in the bottom of his boot that he hadn’t noticed before.

And they needed lots of money for Ard Carraigh. No matter. He knew how to get some.

He pretended his eyes filled with tears from the pain of blisters, not from heartache, as he pushed his feet back into his boots and opened the lute case. He pulled out his beautiful girl. He wouldn’t play her, it would annoy Geralt. He’d always hated Jaskier’s music, although he hated to hear Jaskier sing even more.

Pie with no filling.

Jaskier wished he could play her, though. It was going to break his heart to part with her, and he didn’t think he’d ever played another instrument as fine. If he could, he’d play her every second until he had to sell her.

Probably for the best, though, if he was going to fake his death. She was distinctive.

He brushed a hand over the beautiful wood work on her front. There was a little bit of linseed oil left, and he poured it on the rag he kept in the case and began to work over his girl lovingly. His eyes teared up again, but he fought it back. He would have smashed his lute if it meant helping Ciri. And Geralt.

Jaskier longed for Geralt to forgive him, to take him back and let him stay by his side, but he’d meant what he’d said, bards have a shelf life, and Jaskier’s time was up.

He wished Geralt would at least speak with him, though. His heart was aching. In a completely different sense, so was his chest.

“Play us a tune, bard,” Yennefer said.

Jaskier turned around. Yen and Geralt were sitting beside eachother, close together. She looked so beautiful in her fine cloak that Jaskier wondered how he ever thought he could catch Geralt’s eye when beings like her existed.

“You know,” he said. “It’s late and I wouldn’t want to bother Ciri.”

“Tent’s soundproof,” Yennefer said, waving her hand.

“I mean, really,” Jaskier protested weakly. Disobeying Yennefer’s request/command was like bathing your brain in lava, but Geralt was looking angry again. Some would say there wasn’t much change from Geralt’s normal expression, but Jaskier knew his face better than he knew his own. Something had made Geralt angry or upset. The only possible answer was Jaskier. It was always Jaskier.

“Play us a song, bard,” Yennefer said. “You’ve been so quiet other than stories, I’d almost think you were a doppler, Melitele knows no one could have taught you to shut up.”

Jaskier swallowed the lump in his throat.

He began, slowly, to pick out a gently tune on his lute. It was a song about winter and home, and he knew the lyrics well. Yennefer had only asked him to play, so he would. His music was at least less offensive than his voice.

He reveled in the feel of his lute beneath his fingers, letting the feeling wash over him, committing it to memory.

When he was finished Yennefer said, “I suppose your voice was tired from your performance, I heard in the town how the bard had played such a long set.”

Jaskier smiled grimly back at her. “Just earning my keep.”

He went to bed, feeling the cold seep into his bones.

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Tag List!

@frywen-babbles @mordoriscalling @thedarkestangel1 @kerfufflezz @live-long-and-trek-on @holymotherwolf @gryffinqueen

@samukai @charlies-dragon I can’t seem to tag, but they’re on the list

#geraksier #adhd Jaskier #the witcher #angst #jaskier #geralt #yennefer #ciri #platonic yennalt #yennefer is a good mom #and deserves nice things #kaer morhen #soon but not yet #emotional hurt/comfort #just hurt now #the comfort is yet to come

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scvrllet · 4 years

Text

our secret place / r.b

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: You’ve grown used to taking autumn walks by yourself but weren’t agaisnt having someone join you

Prompt: Going For A Walk

Words: 1.6k

A/N: This is my piece for @eleven-times-lively and @masterofthedarkness‘ A Very Harry Potter Halloween event. bro it was 1:21am when i wrote this because i forgot i had to have this posted for today

Dried leaves littered the ground in hues of red, orange, yellow and brown. The trees were bare and the air was becoming cooler with every passing day. Winter was getting close which meant you had limited time to enjoy the autumn weather before snow would pack down.

For the past six years you enjoy your autumn walks alone, or at least tried to. After your third year you had grown used to the feeling of loneliness but that didn’t stop the feeling entirely.

Before you were sent to Hogwarts, you would take autumn walks with your friends and family. It became a tradition to spend at least one day out in a forest or park where the leaves crunched beneath your feet. It was one of your fondest memories and one thing you missed the most while away at Hogwarts. Taking those walks alone felt lonely and going on walks during the summer time with your friends and family felt different. You quickly realized that you’d have to settle for those walks.

From time to time you’d miss the laughter and conversations made during those walks you once took with friends and family but you knew there was nothing you could quite do to fill that void. Your friends didn’t seem to like the idea of walks, finding there to be ‘better things to do instead’ as they phrased it so you had stopped offering and just went by yourself.

You’d be a little sad at first when you started your walks, wishing for one of them to run up and join you but it never happened. You could only dream.

Today you took the same path as you always did. The narrow path behind Hagrid’s Hut which, after a few twists and turns, would lead you to a wider walking trail lined with tall trees. If you’d walk far enough, you’d even come across a pond with ducks and frogs and flowers all around it. The area was beautiful and even more during the autumn season. You had discovered the area when you were taking an old route back in fourth year and had gotten lost. This resulted in you ending up near the pond for the first time and after you found an easier way of reaching it, you made sure to visit it as much as possible to bask in its beauty.

When you neared the pond, you stopped frozen in your tracks when you heard laughter from the pond. You were certain that no one knew about it but if someone had found it, why have you never ran into them before and more importantly, why today.

Debating on whether you should turn around to leave or stay to find out who it was, you eventually chose the lather and quietly walked towards the source of the laughter.

Their back was facing you as they crouched down at the lake. A flock of ducks in the water were in front of them and you assumed that was the cause of their laughter. Ducks were amusing creatures after all. As the figure of the boy at the pond became clearer to you, you had briefly forgotten about being quiet which led you to walk into a tree.

“Ow. Stupid tree!” You muttered, scowling at the tree as you rubbed your arm which thankfully, didn’t get cut on the rough bark.

“Are you okay?” The boy from the pond asked, now standing in front of you with a concerned expression.

“Oh yeah, I am. Thank you.”

You had felt like you had seen him before but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint how. There was just something about his grey eyes that seemed so familiar to you.

“How did you find this place?” He asked you.

“Found it back in fourth year. Well, I technically got lost and stumbled in but same thing.” You replied causing him to chuckle. You raised a brow at him before asking: “Something funny?”

The boy didn’t stop like you had expected him to but instead smiled at you. “Yes, I find your story rather funny. Probably because I found it the same way as well, except it was second year for me instead.” He said, finding your shocked expression amusing and another reason to laugh. “Did you think that only you knew about this place too?”

Embarrassed for having thought you were lucky to have found a secret spot all for yourself, you faced the ground and nodded. Hopefully he would assume it was the autumn breeze that was making your cheeks red and not because you were feeling embarrassed.

“Well then, seeing as for the past four years I’ve only seen you here, it can be our little secret. I doubt the other students would have the nerve to go so deep into the forest.” He suggested and you smiled at him, an action he mirrored back before realizing he hadn’t introduced himself and extended his hand. “Regulus Black by the way.”

So that was why he seemed so familiar. The Blacks were a well-known pureblood wizarding family in Great Britain. Aside from being one of the most noble and ancient pureblooded families left, they were also known for their good looks. Notable features of the Blacks were cool grey eyes and black unruly locks, both of which Regulus had inherited. It was a wonder how you haven’t recognized him sooner.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You replied as you shook his hand. It was cold, you noticed, soft but quite cold.

“How have I never seen you here?” Now it was your turn to ask the questions. He had mentioned that he’s only ever seen you here before so that would have meant you should’ve seen him as well.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” Was his answer and a wave of realization washed over you.

“And that’s what I’m doing right now. Oh god I’m so sorry, I can leave if you’d like?” You offered with a weak smile. Perhaps you shouldn’t have decided to investigate who the person by the lake was. Especially when he’s been purposely making sure not to bother for the past two years. Merlin you were an idiot.

“No no, it’s alright. I don’t mind you being here, honestly. It is our secret little place now after all.”

You scanned his face for any sign of lying and/or silent pleading for you to go away but you found none. He genuinely didn’t mind you being here when he could’ve been alone and despite only having met him five minutes ago, you didn’t mind having him here either.

“Well since it’s our little secret, how do you feel about going on a walk?” It felt like you were holding your breath as you waited for his reply.

You had to stop yourself from signing in relief when he said: “I’d like that.” with a small smile. You mirrored the expression before motioning for him to stand by your side before walking down the pathway that led towards the pond. The two of you walked for what felt like hours but the fact didn’t seem to bother any of you. A majority of the time you were both too busy laughing or talking to notice anyways.

It wasn’t until when the sun had started to set behind the mountains that the two of you realized just how long you have been out. Extending his hand out for you to take, you hesitated for a moment before clasping your hands in his. When you were firmly holding his hand he smiled at you before running , catching you off-guard and pulling you along with him.

When you were finally able to match his pace and run alongside him, still hand in his, the two of you laughed as you imagined what would happen if Filch had caught you sneaking back into school when students were supposed to have been in their Common Rooms.

“If we get caught you’re buying me a Butterbeer.” You said when you neared the school.

“Deal.” He replied before walking inside the school with his still holding your hand.

The halls were empty and you could hear the faint noise coming from the Great Hall. You could both probably make it there without getting caught if luck was on your side.

“Students in the corridor! Students in the corridor!” Filch’s voice echoed through the hall that you and Regulus were walking through.

“Shit.” You heard Regulus mutter before turning the corner and running down the hall. The two of you ran through many different corridors and hallways before he pulled you into an empty classroom and locked the door. It was then that he had finally let go of your hand.

The two of you stood there, hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“Did you see his face?”

“No, I was too busy trying to make sure he didn’t see us!”

“I’ve never seen his eyes go so wide you should’ve seen it.”

Silence followed after you had both calmed down. Had it been with anybody else, just standing there in front of each other, it would have been a very awkward experience but for some reason, it felt normal when you were with him.

Despite only knowing him for a few hours, it felt normal, like you were supposed to be doing this.

The two of you looked at each other with lazy smiles, enjoying the comforting silence until you opened your mouth to say: “You still owe me a Butterbeer.”

“Only if we can do this all over again after.” He said.

You knew you were supposed to say no. It would risk you House Points. Bloody hell it could even risk you expulsion if you were to get caught enough times and yet you agreed and shot him a warm smile.

“As long it’s with you.”

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sserpente · 4 years

Photo

A/N: Request from @nebulousfishgills and myself. *giggles* Thomas Sharpe is back in time for Halloween season! Also, this is probably one of the cheesiest Imagines I’ve ever written. Be warned and enjoy!

Words: 2329 Warnings: so much fluff

Thomas Sharpe had stepped into your life rather unexpectedly. He had been looking for work in your brother’s mining company and, thanks to his experience, landed a well-paid job soon after. Your brother liked him. He was the true personification of Britishness—polite, considerate, a Gentleman… and he did love his tea.

Every year when the leaves began to grow too heavy on the trees, discolour and fall off, your brother held a feast to thank his employees for their hard work before the mines closed over the winter. You usually helped to prepare and cook and refill empty glasses; and last year you happened to have refilled Thomas’ glass. He had been smitten by you as much as you had been smitten by him and after countless rendezvous where he confided in you about his horrifying past, you now considered yourselves a couple.

It had been almost a year. Autumn was drawing near again and as you drove through a grove in a carriage, able to peacefully take in the beauty of the season, you leaned against Thomas’ strong body. He sighed, his shoulders heaving. In fact, he had been rather quiet for days now.

“Thomas, are you alright?” Looking up at him with a concerned expression on your face, you allowed him to cup your cheek in response.

“Oh, yes. The cold seasons always remind me of home, that is all.“ He confessed, giving you a small smile. A sad smile.

“This is your home now,” you reassured him. “You are beyond welcome here. A new beginning, remember?”

He hummed in response. “A new beginning…”

By the time you arrived at the modest house your brother and you were sharing and you finished cooking dinner for you two, Thomas was still silent. Eerily silent, almost. And it made you worry for him.

Moment after moment passed with only the cutting, chewing and swallowing of food being audible in the cosy kitchen.

“I want to go back to England.” He suddenly stated. You almost dropped your fork.

“You… what? Really?”

“Yes. It is just like you said,” He went on, growing more enthusiastic with a start, “A new beginning. I could start over, restore the house… it does not have to wither away.”

“But… Thomas, I thought you were glad you left this place… that you have so many terrible memories attached to Allerdale Hall. Are you sure you want to be there again?”

Your appetite was all but lost now. Discouraged, you put your fork down and looked him straight in the eye—his beautiful, innocent blue eyes.

“I am. It took me weeks to figure out just why I do not feel complete in this place. I am missing something. I am missing my roots.”

He reached across the table to hold your hand when your eyes filled with tears. “So… you will leave me?”

Thomas shook his head. “No! No, I do not want to leave you. In fact… I meant to ask if you would like to come with me. I do not ask you to leave your home forever. But if I spend my summers here with you, working for your brother and return to England for the winters…”

“Thomas…”

“Please, my love. I want you to be with me. The house is all I have left in my possession and I cannot live at your and your brother’s expenses forever. If I could I would long have purchased us a house here so we can get married and raise our children in our very own home but my savings will not allow it. Instead… if I used them to restore Allerdale Hall…”

Your lips parted. He wanted to marry you. He meant to buy a house where you could raise your children. And he truly seemed to miss his home. Biting your lower lip, you considered his proposal for a moment.

All the work that would come with restoring an entire mansion did not put you off as much as the fact that Allerdale Hall was miles away from your own birthplace. Only if you were with Thomas… did it truly matter where you were? If it meant so much to him… as for you, as long as you could stay with him, it did not matter much to you where you were. It was the change that was scary.

“If this is what you really want…” You finally responded. “…then I will come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree and you nodded.

“I will.” There was no denying your promise, in this very moment, was as significant as a wedding vow.

“Thomas… this house is huge. It’s just the two of us. How will we use all of this space?” Tilting your head back, you took in the gigantic construction towering into the sky.

“We’ll have to have lots of children.” He replied, gently kissing your cheek and hugging you from behind.

There was a gaping hole in the ceiling, letting the cold autumn air come inside, trapping it. It was freezing. Thomas had not exaggerated. The house was in dire need of renovation but together, so you were certain, you would transform this place into an exciting and a cosy living place. A place in which your children could grow up in and, once in adulthood, remember fondly what it had been like.

You worked hard. Your brother knew some good and honest roofers who offered a fair price for the repair of the ceiling, after that Thomas was able to afford two floorers with whom he began figuring out a way to keep the house from sinking into the red clay he had told you about underneath.

Everything had remained just like he had left it, even his clay machine. Only the bodies… the bodies must have been removed by wild animals or a decent human being who found and buried them. Thomas himself could not bring himself to bury both his most recent wife and sister himself—and after everything that happened, the remaining villagers were rather out of sorts with the last survivor of the Sharpe family.

The next couple of weeks you spent cleaning and tidying (and sneezing) and building and sweeping and slowly but surely, Allerdale Hall was turning into a wonderful home. Not once since your arrival had you felt the presence of a tormented ghost—not once had either of you been haunted. It was like, ever since Lucille’s death, the many murdered women in this house had finally been able to move on.

His favourite part of the house was still the attic which had remained untouched for the most part. You had merely replaced the sofa and the desks, added some lovely curtains and a beautiful lustre for his late-night crafting.

You were almost done now. Nearly everything was clean and tidy, new furniture adding an elegant touch to the old house. The only thing still missing was the outer front and the lowest level. Thomas had told you he no longer wanted anything to do with red clay mining, for it reminded him too much of his past with Lucille and the horrible deeds he had been forced to be a part of. Instead, he wanted to keep helping your brother develop new machines for his mines.

“I have an idea.” You said, loosening your tight ponytail after another cleaning orgy in the house. It was only time for lunch and you could not wait to retreat to your new bedroom already. It was Thomas’ old room, re-furnished and cosier than you could have ever imagined. Thomas had spent a fortune on the new king-size bed with the softest mattress you had ever had the pleasure to sleep on.

“You have had many wonderful ideas over the last few weeks, my love.” Thomas said with a smile. “What have you thought of now?”

“We should host a party tomorrow night.”

His lips parted in surprise. “A party? For whom?”

“No one in particular. Us. Our new home. Besides, Halloween is right around the corner. We should ask everyone to dress up and have some fun after all the hard work.” Now there was a chance that the villagers would downright refuse to set foot into this building ever again but you were rather sure that most of them were curious as to what had become of Allerdale Hall as well. Thomas would be able to prove to them he was a good and decent man—and that he had finally found happiness.

“I agree. I do believe we deserve some time off.”

You were busy the next morning, sending out invitations and then buying all the supplies you would need for your Halloween party. Thomas had outdone himself with his outfit—he prepared an all-black suit and black polished shoes along with a cylinder and a dark red bowtie, the latter which fit the dress he had insisted on buying you for tonight perfectly.

Now that the first guests began to arrive in their carriages, all wearing fashionable masks as it was Halloween, admiring what had become of the house so far, Thomas’ nervousness infected you. You had decorated where you could, collecting sycamore leafs and carving pumpkins which were now grinning eerily with candles inside of them. You soon realised, however, that your worries were unnecessary. Thomas conversed like the true Gentleman he was, passionately recalling how much fun it had been to restore the house and that he would have never been able to do any of that without your help. That was when all the attention drifted to you.

Thomas had just disappeared upstairs with an old friend who had been happy enough about his return to show him his renovated workshop when an older man, perhaps in his late fifties, approached you with dismay coating his lips. The rest of his face was unreadable given that he too was wearing a mask.

“So I understand it that you will at some point be marrying the baronet then, my lady?”

“Yes, Sir.” You responded with a polite and content smile. The man shook his head.

“Well, good luck. His last few wives all passed away under rather strange circumstances.”

Tensing up a little, you lifted your chin.

“So I’ve heard and that is very unfortunate. Sir Thomas has my deepest sympathy. And I thank you for your concern but I don’t easily perish.” In fact, the very first thing Thomas and you had done was tossing out the poisoned tea Lucille had been using on his former wives. It was still unsettling sometimes to know he had been involved in murders—but you also knew that Thomas was a good man. He had already lost Edith. He would not lose you.

“You sure don’t, my lady. However, the last remaining woman in Sir Sharpe’s life was his sister Lucille and even her body was never found. I am only trying to help. I run a hotel a few miles west of this atrocious place. I can provide shelter for you, my lady, and hide you from him.”

Shit. You clutched your dress tightly so your hands would not shake as much. “Thank you but that will not be necessary. I love my soon-husband-to-be dearly and if you keep insulting him or his intentions, I will have to ask you to leave.”

“Is there a problem?” Relieved, you let out a breath when you felt Thomas’ arm around your waist and turned around to notice his stern gaze. It was not often you experienced him this cold. The older man blinked, fists clenching a few times.

“No. No problem at all, Sir Sharpe.”

“Good.” With that, he reached for your arm, gently pulling you into the living room. A pianist—another good friend of your brother’s—was filling the hall with warm musical sounds as a couple of guests were dancing. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. He was just being… invasive… about your past.”

“I suspected this might happen tonight.”

“Yes…”

You joined the dancers with a sly smile, letting Thomas take the lead and following his elegant movements as you melted into the harmonious music, both your feet gliding across the floor. And when the piece ended and you came to rest in graceful position in his arms… he suddenly went down on one knee and cupped one of your hands with his as you looked up at you like the most blessed man on the planet. Your heart skipped a beat when he spoke your name. All of a sudden, the room went so still one could have heard a needle drop.

“Will you do me the honour and become my wife? Let me be yours as you will be mine and let us fill this house with nothing but love and harmony.” You never realised there were tears swimming in your eyes—not until they rolled down your cheeks and wetted the fabric of the thin crimson mask you were wearing.

“Yes!” You cried out. “Yes!” Thomas smiled. As the party guests started to clap around you with Ah’s and Oh’s, he scooped you up into his arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

“And tomorrow morning…” He whispered into your ear, “I shall buy you the most beautiful engagement ring that England has to offer.”

“You don’t have to buy me an expensive ring, Thomas. Actually…” Your face lit up. “Now that your workshop is done, would you craft one for me?”

His laugh tore through your heart like a tornado. You were right, of course—a hand-crafted engagement ring would be more personal and precious than anything a jeweller could make.

“Did I tell you that I love you?”

“Many, many times. And I love you too. More than anything.”

Your audience cheered even louder when you kissed once more, hugging so tightly not even a thin piece of parchment would have had any space between you.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe imagine #thomas sharpe fluff #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe imagine #sir thomas sharpe fluff #sir thomas sharpe x you #sir thomas sharpe x reader #crimson peak #crimson peak imagine #tom hiddleston

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

Text

WONDERFUL SCHOOL DAYS: MY PRECIOUS RED

CHAPTER 4: AUTUMN

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: skyflyinginaction

* Gakuen K (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

During the summer vacation month, she spent a lot of time playing and then the new semester began.

There were many school events in the fall. The sophomores had a school trip, and they were planning and preparing for it, so they were busy with more than just school work, and the days were rushing by.

In the blink of an eye, summer vacation turned into a page of memories, it turned cool, and she changed her uniform. Then they entered the period of preparation for the intermediate test, which was a difficult task for the red club in many ways.

Furthermore, it seemed like Suoh could repeat a year again.

Specifically, if he gets a red point, he will have another repeat year.

To avoid that, Kusanagi told all the members that they would be banned from entering and leaving HOMRA until the end of the intermediate test.

In the first semester, if they got even a red dot, they would ban him, but in the second semester, they were all banned until the midterm test was over. By the way, if they get even a red dot, it looks like it will be banned until the end of the year and the New Year holidays.

Of course, they were not satisfied with the harsh words.

Everyone had to shut up at Kusanagi's words, "By Mikoto."

"Although Mikoto works hard, what about the others? Those below can avoid the red dot, but the one above is like this. Yes? It's a collective responsibility."

Suoh sighed at the words, and if Suoh agreed, no one could complain. Everyone agreed with that.

From that day on, Suoh was in the dorm as soon as he finished school. He studied while he was watched by Totsuka. Everyone had a study session in the school's red club room and headed straight back to the dorm.

Saya, Yata, and Kamamoto often went to the library together. Like today.

When she stopped the movement of the mechanical pencil, she exhaled.

Yata, who hated studying and got bored quickly, probably did his best for Suoh, but for some reason, he tended to get distracted.

"I wonder if it will finish soon..."

Saya lowered the tip of the mechanical pencil as she turned it over in the notebook.

They were a little upset that they couldn't see Suoh, Totsuka, and Kusanagi.

But even after they finished, they started preparing for the school festival right away. After the school festival, the final test. After that, a Christmas event, and so on.

Of course, there will be activities with the red club at school festivals, so she doesn't think she can't meet them at all. However, she cannot afford to neglect her class activities and if she thinks about it, she believes that the time to go to HOMRA will be greatly shortened from now on.

And, aside from Suoh, Totsuka should be busy studying for the entrance exams if he goes to college.

Now that she thought about it, in the ordinary activities of the club, the third-year students have already retired.

She maybe she "could play" until the summer, and she thinks she won't be able to see them much from now on.

"No. It's lonely."

Involuntarily, she put those words into her mouth.

The truth is, she didn't like it at all. For the future, it is not something she can say. She was not good to stop thinking that.

It didn't mean that she couldn't get together at all, and she felt like it was something different to be hanging out all the time, so she wondered why she was thinking that.

But if she had an excuse, she would lose everything again.

Back then, it seemed like a miracle to be surrounded by "friends" like now.

Every day was fun, comfortable, cool and she wanted to be "the way it is".

"I want to see Suoh-senpai..."

Just seeing Suoh dozing on the bar couch, she felt relieved.

"I want to see Totsuka-san and Kusanagi-san..."

She was healed by Totsuka's gentle smile and Kusanagi's mischievous smile.

Since she moved she was there, since she was very lonely.

"Oh, I wonder if the test will end soon..."

It was at that moment that she sighed several times.

"I can't help saying that."

Yata said it as if he was a little frustrated and stood up.

She was surprised by the words because she thought Yata had the same feelings.

When he opened his mouth, Yata coughed, "I'm thirsty, so I'm going to buy something.", and immediately turned his back on her.

She couldn't understand how he looked so terrible. She turned her eyes to Kamamoto.

"Huh? Did I say something that pissed him off?"

Or was she loud? Did she get in the way even though he was so focused?

Oh, or was she persistent? Repeating things that cannot be avoided.

"Uh, did I say something wrong? I'm sorry."

Kamamoto smiled and shook his head.

"No, do not worry."

"But…"

"Yata-san is a great person."

"Eh?"

Eh? Were they talking about the same topic?

When she bowed her head, Kamamoto smiled even more and looked out the window.

"But the three people in front of Yata-san are more amazing. Maybe it's frustrating."

"What? What's the story? I don't know."

"That's fine, Konohana-san. Don't worry."

"......?"

"Yata-san wasn't mad at Konohana-san either. Don't worry."

Once again, she was scared and confused, and looked towards the door where Yata had disappeared.

The day was quite heavy.

It was the time she closed the library, that is, the time they left school, so she gathered her books and went to the entrance with Yata and Kamamoto.

"The sun is setting faster."

She looks up at the sky, which changed color at night, as if light ink had been spilled.

Since then. Yata, who immediately returned with a drink, didn't seem to be in a bad mood at all, which made her feel very relieved, but what was it after all?

However, she did not want to infuriate him and make him angry again, so she avoids that topic and, thanks to her hard work, she felt that her studies have improved a lot. Not only her, but also Yata and Kamamoto.

When she goes back to the bedroom, she will do the best she can.

She stretched out and suddenly looked at Yata.

It was already October. Everyone in the red club wears a pure "black" that was different from ordinary students.

"By the way, the red club does not have girls' uniforms because there are no other girls. Not only now, but I am the first in history, right?"

"Huh? Ah!"

"It's a bit disappointing. The red club's black school uniform is great. The girls don't have those school uniforms, but I wish I had a black uniform. Wearing the same black as everyone else. I wish I had."

"……!"

"Well, it's a real problem, and I know it's impossible to make a uniform for one person, right? Even the silver club wear normal uniforms."

She look at Yata and Kamamoto, and smile.

"After all, I long for that a little. It's great."

"Seriously?"

"That's how it is."

When she said that, Yata thought about the words for a bit and pushed the bag against Kamamoto.

When she wondered what he was going to do, Yata took off his school uniform and smashed it against her startled head.

"Eh?"

"Then, you should put it on."

"Eh?"

(Oh Yata-kun, isn't it cold in just a shirt? You'll catch a cold.), she thought.

She tried to quickly return it, but he said, "Okay, put it on!"

"No, it's okay... I'm happy though! But Yata-kun, isn't it difficult if you get sick before the test? If you get a red dot, will you be banned until the end of the second semester?"

When she said that, he was a little upset and said, "The distance to the bedroom is not an exaggeration."

Well, it certainly wasn't that cold yet.

And she was happy after all. The red club uniform, the test of friends that everyone wears. To say that she did not yearn for it was a lie.

When she said "Oh, thank you.", she took off her light blue uniform and offered it to Yata.

"Eh?"

"Then Yata-kun, you can use this one. After all, it's cold."

"But...! Do you think it would fit me?"

"What?! The height doesn't change that much!"

"Ah?!"

"This, Konohana-san, leave it at that!"

It was true, but Yata turned around, so she didn't say anything else, and she was a little excited to put on Yata's school uniform.

"Eh?"

However, when she pulled it up her sleeve, she thought her height wouldn't change much, but it was big. She couldn't get her whole hand out of her sleeve. Her shoulders also felt like the fabric was too loose.

Oh, that?

"Yata-kun, are you bigger than me?"

"Ah, it's true!"

When she accidentally coughed, she said...

"Wow! I'm sorry! Because it doesn't normally look like this!"

But that was correct. After all, he is a boy.

Suddenly, a strange sensation arose and her chest gradually warmed up.

She held her mouth gently with her hand hidden in the sleeve of his school uniform.

The red club uniform and Yata. It was warm, and she was happy.

"Why does a girl look cute when she wears men's clothes? Oh, isn't that our uniform? Yata-san…"

"Bah! Oh, it's just a shirt!"

"Eh? Wow, is that so?"

She also thought that he would say, "It is not mine!"

When she looked at Yata with blinking eyes, she wondered if he had noticed, and suddenly he turned bright red. Involuntarily, she looked at Kamamoto and laughed.

"Hmm...! Don't be laughing!"

"Ah. I'm sorry. Because..."

She was happy.

(Oh, I think I'm very happy. Who would have imagined such a day would come? I wonder if I'm that happy, but every day I have fun.), she thought.

"You're laughing!"

"Fufufu. Come on, sorry. A little later..."

She grabbed Kamamoto's arm and laughed.

She was happy. Finally, she was having fun.

Then she didn't notice.

There were people who looked at her and exchanged words.

++++++++++

"Well, at the red club?"

"Yes, in the red club."

Totsuka smiled kindly.

Thanks to the effort, Suoh passed the intermediate test brilliantly. Also, it seemed like there was a lot of space when it came to points. After all, he was a person who could do it. He just didn't do it.

Then as for the other members, there were a lot of people who were barely there, but all of them still had no red dots. Everyone could do it, right? They just didn't.

So the next big event is the school festival!

Of course, this was her first experience at the school festival. She really wanted to do it from now on.

The next day they said it at the "HOMRA" bar. After a long time, senior Totsuka sent a notice to all the members of the red club so that they could meet in the school club room.

And then, looking around the lineup of members, Totsuka said, "Let's do something at the school festival, red club."

"Of course it's fun to look around at the school festival, but don't you think it's best to be ready for anything?"

"Yes, that is true."

"That's why I suggested doing something at the red club. Wouldn't you like to create the best memories of Konohana-san's first school festival?"

Eh? Well, why?

Totsuka smiled, she was surprised and looking at him, said: "Basically, I like festivals. They are…"

"But..."

"Let's participate this time, Konohana-san. Of course, it's not just preparation, right?"

"......!"

At Totsuka's words, they breathed involuntarily.

"Totsuka-senpai...?"

"Didn't you do your best in summer too?"

"That's it…"

"Because we are together."

They all looked at her as their words invited her. She clasped her hands and turned around.

Until the summer, she thought that she would have shook her head immediately.

"I'll help you get ready. But that day... the school festival itself... I think I shouldn't be there. Because I heard from Kukuri-chan that a lot of people other than students will be coming."

She was afraid of being in a crowded place. But…

"It's okay, Konohana-san."

She lifted her face at Totsuka's voice. She was even more nervous and clasped her hands.

Until the summer, she thought she was more scared than necessary. Most of all, she was afraid of herself and she was always nervous.

Before moving there, she could not leave the room. In the end, she even thought that there was no way to protect someone from her.

But now she was a little different. She wanted to participate.

She was not afraid of herself. It was a strange expression to say that she was fine, but she was really trying. She still she was afraid.

She didn't want to break things again. She didn't want to hurt people. She was waiting so hard for it, she wanted to participate.

She wanted to be with those people and get involved with people.

Thanks to everyone in the red club she come to think that way. There were also Kusanagi and Kamamoto.

Everyone believes in her. They treat her well without hesitation. She clasped her hands and laughed.

Kamamoto also supported her without hesitation. They all take care of her and support her.

Above all, Yata, who always protected her. He cared about her and went to find her first, pulling her hand.

Someday, she might kill Yata. She had much fear and she fell.

But Yata was not afraid. Yata should be able to think of himself.

He believes in her more than she does, and stays with her.

"Wow, I..."

But of course, she had not forgotten the danger of her abilities.

Earlier, Munakata told her that he wanted to talk, but she ran away from him at the time, but when she consulted with Totsuka at a later date, he said, "I'll tell Fushimi."

"I'm trying to find out about Konohana-san's abilities."

"Leave it to me. Rather, Konohana-san shouldn't have any contact with the blue club." He pointed his finger at Yata and smiled.

She therefore decided to leave the report to the blue club entirely to Totsuka. Since then, the blue club's interference with her had completely disappeared, as evidenced by the fact that it had been broadcast correctly.

But that didn't mean she was glad. It was not a relief. In fact, she started training to control her abilities around that time.

(I'm free to do it, so I can't help but do my best, right?), she thought.

She would not be afraid of herself forever. She couldn't just be protected and pampered for it. She had to fulfill her responsibility appropriately for them.

That is why she started training. First of all, the basics of the basics. From the place where her ability was revealed.

She went to Kawahara on her day off, and she was doing her best with "superhuman strength" first.

Even if she tried to use it, she didn't show up, although she did show up when she wasn't doing anything.

She had a lot of problems at first, but thanks to her hard work in the summer, she was gradually becoming apparent. It was really a little progress.

For that, and above all thanks to everyone, she believes that she has been able to have a little courage. That is why a change of opinion may have occurred.

If everyone was there, she might stop being afraid of herself.

If Yata was there, she might believe in herself a little.

In the red club, with everyone, she felt that she could take a step forward.

Even if she stepped forward, she felt that she could forgive herself.

"Unlike..."

Bravely, she looked around her and parted her lips.

"I want to participate."

"……!

They all sparkled at the words that she desperately said with courage.

"It's okay!"

"I will do that!"

Everyone was talking and clapping.

"Well, I made up my mind."

Totsuka's smile made her heart warm.

She squeezed her chest tightly with both hands.

Oh, she even she was glad she let her skill slip away on the first day of moving.

If she had hidden it, she could not have been like this, if she had been completely hidden.

At that time, she was able to become "friends" with everyone in the red club because she had run away, and because of that she was able to make the red club monitor her abilities, report the situation and monitor her.

And she, too, was able to make an effort to gain control.

Yata said that he was in debt to her. Thanks to her, he doesn’t hurt students in general. And he apologized for hurting her on that occasion.

She was sure that feeling hadn't changed.

But wasn't it really the opposite?

The Yata thing was certainly a mistake for Yata, and perhaps it was a crime. But for her, it was the opposite. That was what saved her. He helped her to be like she was now.

"Let's have fun!"

"Yes!"

When she took a long break, Totsuka laughed and looked around his again.

"That's why I'm actually talking about what to do."

"Hmm. Isn't it a shop rather than an exhibition? It's not like a coffee shop, it's a stall. There are a lot of people, so if we take turns, we won't be there for that long during the day. I have enough time to look around."

Everyone screamed at Chitose's words.

"That's right. Let's think in that direction."

"Easy cooking is good, isn't it? Or is it something that can be prepared in advance? You don't have to wait long at the place."

"That's right. I want to avoid fried foods if possible. It's hard."

"Besides, isn't it better to eat something you can eat without using chopsticks?"

"Oh, that's right. You should be able to choose where to eat."

"After that, the cost of the material is cheap."

"In other words, you can get it cheaply."

"Something that collects in my stomach."

"Something that looks good."

"It's also important that cooking is easy."

"It is also important that the menu does not overlap with other food stands."

They looked at each other, and then looked up, "Hmm."

There was silence.

Thinking of it that way, it is quite difficult to decide on a menu.

She looked at the cloudy and inorganic ceiling, which was different from the "HOMRA" bar, and she thought more.

By the way, did they plan the school festival like this last year? While they made a fuss with everyone.

After all, the school festival itself was canceled due to that heinous "accident", and she couldn't go to the school itself shortly after that, so she made a plan.

At the time, she was talking about offering some food. She came up with several ideas. Takoyaki, okonomiyaki, yakisoba, French fries. However, they were likely to be used by everyone in other classes and club activities, so she was concerned.

"Meat roll, hot dogs."

She involuntarily coughed. They all looked at her at once.

After many days of worrying, the menu they decided on was "Meat Roll Dog".

At one point, everyone clapped and cheered.

The memory that she had become distant pierced her chest.

She gritted her back teeth and looked at everyone around her.

"How about a meat-wrapped ball? Simply put, it's a meat-rolled rice ball. It's not a bale or a triangle, it's like wrapping rice and meat around disposable chopsticks."

"Rice ball wrapped in meat?"

"That's right. How to do it would be: wrap the rice and the pork belly around disposable chopsticks. You can add a little vinegar to the rice. It is refreshing and has a bactericidal effect. I will do a lot in the morning. On the day of the festival, we will bake it one by one shortly before the school festival starts. When the school festival starts and an order is placed, just put it in a grilled meat sauce and heat it on an iron plate. The first step is to grill it and then add the sauce. I think, if you have two iron plates, it can be efficient."

They all look at each other.

"The offer itself is as simple as putting it in a paper cup or something and handing it over. No special packaging is required and it's easy. The cost of the material is just rice, pork belly, and roast beef, so doesn't cost a lot. But it's not bulky. Oh, maybe toothpicks and a paper cup?"

"Oh, okay! That!"

Chitose was the first to shine and scream.

Then they all did it one after another and smiled.

"You can eat even if you wake up just by biting."

"If that's the only material, I think you can get it at a fairly low price."

"And the rice has a lot of volume. The satisfaction should be high."

"It looks great. Meat wrapped balls look delicious just in writing."

"On top of that, it's a bit different from the standard, and it seems like it's easy to carry."

Totsuka coughed and smiled.

"How nice!"

"Yes!"

In a word, she almost cried.

She thought sin was sin. It was irreparable that she did it.

The school festival that she couldn't go to with her old friends a year ago, could no longer be recovered.

But she could start over and take a new step.

Although she couldn't get back what she lost, she could get a fresh start.

She was so happy it was painful.

"If you decide to do so, you must write a stop permit request immediately."

She couldn't cry, it would seem strange to everyone.

Someone poked his head out with eyes closed, her mouth held in her hand and her head down desperately enduring tears. Probably Totsuka. Totsuka's voice echoed in front of her.

She gritted her back teeth, took a deep breath, and slowly raised her face.

In front of her, after all, was Totsuka.

She was relieved to see the soft smile.

"Food stands, permits, applications...?"

"Yes. When you make a position in a school festival, you have to apply as the red club in advance. I will take care of the gas and fire, to prevent accidents."

"Red club?"

"Of course, most things in this school are self-governed by the students. It is not the teacher who gives these permissions."

Oh, it was true.

"So first, King has to get a job permit application from the red club."

"Eh?!"

(Suoh-senpai?!), she thought.

"Why Suoh-senpai in person?"

"That's the rule. It is the representative of the department who is going to find the application and submit it. Well, that's correct. You get permission to work as a department."

"Okay, what is...?"

(No, I don't think Munakata-senpai will do anything.), she thought.

But no matter how she thought about it, they feel like oil and water.

"Well, okay. Maybe."

(Maybe? I don't think it's possible!), she thought.

But when Totsuka laughed and said, "Okay.", he walked over to Suoh, who was dozing on the couch, and hit him on the arm.

"Hey, King."

"So today's discussion is over? I have nothing to do until Mikoto-san receives the request form."

Kamamoto looked at Totsuka, who shook Suoh.

"Oh, that's right. Everyone will be ready for class."

"Oh, yeah. After this, I have to go get ready for class."

It was said that Kukuri would email her once her workplace was decided.

At that moment, the PDA rang to notify her of an incoming call. (Oh, Kukuri-chan. Just in time!), she thought.

When she took out the PDA, Totsuka looked at her.

"A classmate?"

"Yes. She said that she would email me when the workplace was decided. I was a little late due to the meeting at the red club."

An email with an image attached. And the image was a simple sketch of the school building.

A red star was drawn at one point.

"It was the right time. I have to go."

"What is Konohana-san's class doing?"

"It's a display system. The details are still secret."

"Oh, so is it quite difficult to prepare?"

"It seems. Was it set up today? They told me to tell my friends when the location was decided."

"I see. If it's an exhibition system, you can work hard at the red club position that day."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Maybe it will happen."

When she understood, Totsuka laughed mischievously and said, "I heard something good."

"Because we have a valuable female member, Konohana-san."

"Yes!"

"Good. Then go. What about that? What about Yata and Kamamoto? Huh?"

"The boys should have another preparation, and they are acting differently from me."

Instead of the two who didn't seem to move, she said so and waved back saying, "I'm leaving."

"Welcome."

When she left the club room, she pulled out the PDA and ran away.

"Wow, it's pretty far."

The stars indicated the rear of the school building. It was a place she hadn't been to yet.

Even though it had been half a year since she came to school, there are places where she still hadn't set foot. Anyway, even though this school was so big, she wondered if Kukuri could secure such a place.

She was wondering a bit, but maybe it's a good place to work just because it's far away? She rethought.

Yes. she should have noticed it there.

"Oh, that?"

When she saw the empty space with no one, she inadvertently tilted her head.

She tried to follow the sketch, but there was no one.

Old... Was it a place to store tools? Anyway, it was just a place with a warehouse-like building. It wasn't that big.

It was tough... Not that it was tough, but she got the impression that was a bit messy in the beautiful school, which was well maintained throughout. The ground was bare, a lot of pebbles have fallen, weeds grew here and there and it was a bit dark behind the school building. Also, it was a bit humid.

Of course, there was no evidence that it was being worked on. It was done too. It was funny.

However, it should be here.

"......?"

She tilted her head and looked back at the PDA.

(Did I make a mistake? No, but it should be okay. I walked out the door, I came there, I turned around and I came here...), she thought.

"Oh, it's funny. It should be here."

It was then that he was desperately comparing the plane of her head with that of the PDA.

Yes. It was exactly there.

Behind it was also quite close, there was a footfall.

The moment she tried to turn around, her eyes suddenly turned completely black.

"Eh?!"

It wasn't until she was beaten that she realized she had something on her head.

Her arm fell to the stepped spot and she was roughly pushed just as she was. Her body suddenly hit something and made a loud noise. Immediately after, a loud metallic sound.

"Eh?"

She didn't know what happened and she was confused.

But that was also a moment, and when she flinched, she quickly picked up what was on her head (it was like a box) and looked around her.

However, only a few things appeared.

It was so dark that she thought she was still wearing something.

"Eh...?"

When she looked around her, she heard a giggle in the distance.

"Hey!"

It was the voice of a girl. Also, there were multiples. When she reached out, she hit a cold hard wall. Eh? Maybe she was on to something?!

Also, she looks around her. But after all, visibility was dark and black. What she could see is that it was very dusty and moldy. Also, there was an odor that appeared to be chemical.

Maybe in the toolbox?

"Hey, hey!"

She hit the wall that her hand touched and shook it loudly.

The laugh she heard from a distance grew bigger and pulled away from her when she called out.

"Well, wait!"

They were about to leave while laughing.

Only that she understood, and at the same time it was hideous.

"Wait! Hey!"

It was enough to know that. Because that was more than enough.

The malice of them.

"Wait!"

She already knew that yelling was useless.

Not that her voice hadn't come through. She had arrived, but they did not want to listen to her.

If she stops here, they'll lock up people from the start!

"The PDA...!"

(No, Kukuri-chan. That girl can't do this.), she thought.

Then who? Was that email really from Kukuri?

However, even if she tries to confirm it now, she did not have the PDA in her hand. Had she dropped it herself?

By the way, when they attacked her, she was holding it in her hand. Did she drop it because of her fright?

She involuntarily clenched her back teeth.

(Oh, idiot! I didn't even verify the caller's name. Kukuri-chan told me, “I'll send you an email when the workplace is decided.” And that email was an indication of the location. Arbitrarily, I thought Kukuri-chan had contacted me!), she thought.

But who was they then?

She thought long and hard and shook her head.

"Oh, if you're thinking about that now..."

The search for the criminal is later. First of all, she had to get out of there

But how? She couldn't ask for help without a PDA.

This was a place that she had never visited for over half a year since she moved. She came here today because she was guided.

In other words, if she did it normally, she wouldn't come here. The chances of someone passing by were extremely low!

"What should she do?!"

If she couldn't ask to help, she should go out on her own.

This warehouse was not that solid. She thinks it was possible to destroy it by activating her ability, but...

"Ah!"

She looked back with eyes used to the dark.

Perhaps because it was not used much, she had the impression that it was packed with things in a messy way. The shelves also seemed to wobble.

She still couldn't control her abilities. If she mishandled her abilities here, things would definitely get worse.

But on the other hand, she remained silent...

It was dangerous to use her ability. But if she didn't risk it, she couldn't get out.

Then…!

"Huh! Please!"

She put her hand in the doorway of the warehouse and thought about it.

For a moment, both of her hands suddenly glowed white.

"…!"

Activated!

At that moment, the door made a painful noise in her ears and dented.

Oh, did it go there? She wanted to open the key as if she smashed it.

But thanks to the dents and heavy distortion, she was able to pull it off.

She felt a bit relieved, but right after that. It was a simple warehouse. What if one side was very distorted?

As she was in danger, the insides of her vibrated violently, the luggage fell and the dust shot up.

At the same time, something hung from her waist, and a strong acrid smell hit her.

Then the sound of a hard object hitting the ground.

"Eh?"

What was that?!

She reflexively pressed her nose and mouth at the terrible smell.

"What's that?!"

She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed. Outside, she could hear the sound of her PDA.

She reverberated in vain and grew impatient.

(Oh, someone! Ah! Notice that melody! Did anyone hear the destructive sound just before? Maybe my crying?), she thought.

"Please! Someone!"

She screamed as much as she could.

It was at that moment that...

Was there anyone? A tempting voice. Ah! This was exactly the heavenly aid!

However, the voice was a bit... no, it was from someone who wasn't very good at it.

For a moment she thought, "Why are you in such a place?", but... "I see! Blue club patrol!"

"That's right! What you don't know is what I'm doing in a hidden place! This is where you look around! Ah, thank you!"

"Hmm, Fushimi-kun! Open up!"

"Ah?"

When she knocked on the door, she heard Fushimi's surprised voice.

"Please! Help! I'm trapped!"

Along with her scream, a strange noise resounded.

That would have made him aware that the situation was imminent. There was a high-pitched voice that said, "Get as far away from the door as you can."

In a small warehouse (and shabby inside), it was a pretty difficult order, but she managed to get away from the door a bit.

"It's just a little!"

The moment she screamed, blue light shot through the dented door.

His hand tugged and knocked down the door that had broken and slipped.

Light shining through a large hole. The moment she narrowed her limbs, his big hand grabbed her arm.

"Come on!"

At the same time, the warehouse got a lot of holes.

At that moment, she was drawn to the force of pulling hard.

"Konohana!"

A powerful hand held her head.

The last thing she saw was a warped warehouse and a cardboard box on top of it.

Like in slow motion, got bigger and blocked her view.

She opened her eyes slowly, as if something invited her.

Miserable, distorted and blurred vision.

She remained distracted, she gradually focused and discovered that what occupies her field of vision was the inorganic white ceiling and lighting.

When she was distracted, she heard a voice saying, "Did you notice?"

When she slowly looked around her, Fushimi was sitting next to her.

Eh?

She did not understand the situation for a moment and was confused.

Immediately afterwards, however, she noticed that she was sleeping on the white sheets of the bed and hurriedly got up. No, she tried to get up, but she couldn't. At that moment, a fierce nausea hit her.

When she reflexively covered her mouth with both hands, Fushimi yelled "Idiot...!", and stood up.

And when she could move a little, she slightly lifted her body.

"Ah!"

"Be patient!"

He yelled and carried her to the other side of the wall to the side of the bed.

Then Fushimi quickly lowered her in front of the toilet bowl that was there and rubbed her a bit savagely.

"Vomit. It will be easier."

In front of Fushimi, that was it.

She thought about it for a moment. She coughed violently and the entire contents of his stomach turned.

She remembered as she spat. That was. She breathed in the acrid smell of paint.

She clung to the toilet bowl, coughed many times, and vomited many times. Tears naturally spilled over the pain.

During that time, she was a bit surprised that Fushimi rubbed her back all the time, but she was grateful. That was enough to make her cry.

"Ah!"

When she finally calmed down and took a breath, Fushimi left.

She then he returned with a wet towel and mineral water and offered them to her.

(Hmm... is that nice?), she thought.

The usual terrible attitude towards Yata seemed to be a lie.

"Thanks."

She managed to thank him, wipe her mouth, and drink the water.

But that was finally comfortable. She takes a deep breath.

"Can you go back to bed? Come on."

"Eh? Oh, I think I can go back. Just give me a hand." She remembered as she spat. That was. She breathed in the acrid smell of paint.

She clung to the toilet bowl, coughed many times, and vomited many times. Tears naturally spilled over the pain.

During that time, she was a bit surprised that Fushimi rubbed her back all the time, but she was grateful. That was enough to make her cry.

"Ah!"

When she finally calmed down and took a breath, Fushimi left.

She then he returned with a wet towel and mineral water and offered them to her.

(Hmm... is that nice?), she thought.

The usual terrible attitude towards Yata seemed to be a lie.

"Thanks."

She managed to thank him, wipe her mouth, and drink the water.

But that was finally comfortable. She takes a deep breath.

"Can you go back to bed? Come on."

"Eh? Oh, I think I can go back. Just give me a hand."

When she shook her head vertically, his hand reached out in front of her.

She grabbed his hand and stood up. It was disgusting, but even though she was fluttering, she managed to get back in bed and lie down.

She took a relieved breath again and looked at Fushimi, who was sitting in a chair next to the bed.

"Ah, this…?"

"Ah…"

"I'm wearing something like hospital clothes... Where is my uniform?"

Fushimi pointed to her feet without saying anything. There was something in a plastic bag.

"It's pretty dirty with paint. Maybe it's rubbish."

"Trash... The nurse was the one who changed my clothes, right?"

"Of course."

(Was that so? No, I knew. I just wanted to check.), she thought.

"I see. Okay then. Um, did I get hurt?"

She remembered the cardboard box that occupied the field of vision. Had she hit her head?

"I heard you're not hurt. I was a bit surprised. You protected yourself."

Fushimi took a deep breath. By the way, Fushimi, held her head in his hand?

When she looked down, Fushimi had a bandage on his left hand.

When she said "That...", Fushimi clicked his tongue and hid his hand from her.

"That, Fushimi-kun..."

"This does not matter. What happened in that place? Speak up. I have an obligation to investigate as a member of the blue club. If necessary, I have to inform the president."

He didn't care.

But it was brilliant to dig in and ask, and when he sighed, she obediently told the whole story.

The only thing she could say is the events that happened to her.

She had no idea who the person was that caught her, why they did that or anything else.

If she looks at the PDA, she may know who sent the email.

"Oh! By the way, my PDA..."

She reflexively searched for the PDA with her eyes, but she remembered it immediately. That was. She dropped it when she was trapped.

Looking at Fushimi, she silently pointed to a small white locker next to the bed.

On top of that, the PDA had a miserable look where the glass cracked.

"Oh… is it broken…?"

"It was under the warehouse. It won't turn on for now."

"Is the data inside messed up?"

"Come on. I could get it out, but now it's no use."

"I see. That means it is impossible to confirm the sender of the email at that time."

When she said that, Fushimi shrugged, "Even if I can confirm it, is it really useful?"

"Eh…?"

"Think about it. That email, silly, would you send it from your own email address? It could have been sent from a different email address or PC, with a free email address that looks like Yukizome's address."

"Oh, it's true."

"For now, listen to the nurse and we'll investigate if necessary. Anyway, rest until they pick you up. Don't move if you feel uncomfortable."

"Eh? Pick me up? Is someone coming?"

"A person has been contacted."

Fushimi said that and quickly stood up and turned around.

To who? She tries to say it, but as a result, she didn't have to ask. She immediately hears voices and multiple disturbing footsteps.

The moment she opened her eyes, the door swung open vigorously without a hook.

"Are you okay?!"

Immediately afterwards, a strong voice echoed through the room. She was relieved and pursed her lips.

"Ya-..."

"I was surprised! Saya-chan! What were you doing there?!"

"Konohana-san. Are you okay? What happened?"

"Eh? You don't know?"

She tilted her head for a moment, but... oh, it was true. She was able to explain everything to Fushimi a little while ago.

"I haven't heard it. I just found out that Konohana-san was taken to the hospital."

That said, everyone looked at Fushimi with a slightly complicated look. Yata too. Unusually, in the end (although he's usually the first person to run), he walked in and looked at her and Fushimi alternately.

"Oh, sorry. I'm sorry I made you worry..."

"It's okay. Konohana-san looks pale. Is it okay?"

Kamamoto worriedly distorted his face.

At the same time, Fushimi sighed. She was surprised and managed to get up.

"Konohana! Still..."

"Alright! Fushimi-kun!"

She ignored Kamamoto trying to hold him back and called after him back.

"Oh, thanks!"

"It is not a big thing."

That may be true for Fushimi, but not for her.

"I just wanted to thank you. What would have happened to me without Fushimi-kun?"

"......"

"Thank you very much for your help."

When she tilted her head, Fushimi looked at her over his shoulder.

"I will inform the director."

But he didn't say anything else, just clicked his tongue. Fushimi said that with a voice without emotional intonation, passed between the members of the red club and Yata's side, and left the hospital room.

For some reason, Yata painfully distorted his face as the footsteps receded.

"Are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"Idiot. Look at Saya-chan's face."

"Oh, that's right. You shouldn't speak now."

"First of all, you must rest. What do you want...?"

As soon as they couldn't hear the footsteps, they all circled her bed and spoke.

She was so happy that she laughed saying "I'm fine." But why? Only Yata was standing in the doorway and he didn't try to get closer.

Yata was usually the first to arrive. Yata was worried, but now he stared at her with a distorted face.

"Yata-kun?"

She instinctively bows her head in a way that seemed unreasonable.

Then Yata bounced his shoulders, then gritted his back teeth tightly and stared at her.

Yes. He literally looked at her, as if he couldn't forgive himself.

"Yata-kun?"

"What were you doing with the monkey here?"

His cold voice took her breath away.

The large eyes of him looking at her burned in a fiery flame.

"That...?"

"You said you would help out with the class. Was that a lie?"

There was no way they would say such a thing to him. She was surprised by his unexpected words.

The blood faded.

With a strange feeling, she believed it to be true.

Oh, after all, that was not good.

"Hey, Yata?"

"What are you talking about? Yata…"

Everyone tended to get confused and gave up on Yata.

But it seems that it was counterproductive. Yata distorted his face as if he was screaming, and screamed more.

"I'm asking you what you were doing with the monkey, you lied to me!"

"No, Yata-kun...?"

"You are a traitor too!"

Those incredible words got through her.

#k #k project #gakuen k #k wonderfull school days #yata misaki #fushimi saruhiko #totsuka tatara #kusanagi izumo #suoh mikoto #munakata reisi #homra #scepter 4 #kamamoto rikyo

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stanandcharleyandfriends · 3 years

Link

In the thick of the COVID-19 pandemic, it seemed to Scott Neabore that the pet population had doubled as people bound to their homes sought out cats and dogs for comfort and companionship. His practice in Haddonfield, meanwhile, was still compact — just him and three vet technicians.

His schedule is fully booked with surgeries until autumn. There are no slots for more dental procedures until the beginning of next year. He has performed more spay and neuter surgeries in the last year than he ever did previously.

“The pet population essentially doubled in a year, but the veterinarian population did not,” he said. “Now we’re trying to play catch-up.”

As pet ownership sharply grew in the last year — 11.38 million households in the United States got pets during the pandemic, according to the American Pet Products Association — so did the workload for veterinary practices, many of which simultaneously grappled with COVID-19 safety protocol, concerns of thinning staff, and growing pressure to see as many patients as possible.

Even with nimble vet staff, there was sometimes a waiting period of six to seven hours at the Red Bank Veterinary Hospital emergency room in Hillsborough, N.J. — a delay exacerbated by some owners who brought in their pets for nonurgent matters, veterinarian Agatha Kuza said.

“My job has kind of become a general practice-emergency hybrid,” she said, noting that some people have paid the more expensive emergency hospital fee rather than wait longer to get their animal seen elsewhere.

In a typical 12-hour shift during the pandemic, Kuza saw 10 to 15 patients. On her busiest day, she recalled, she saw 30. Another day, when two other emergency clinics in the area diverted owners to nearby facilities, eight patients showed up at Red Bank Veterinary Hospital within an hour.

The work has become overwhelming, Kuza said. After already long days sometimes peppered with combative or accusatory pet owners, some employees stay an extra hour or two to finish their tasks, she said. Half of the nurses who were working at the hospital when Kuza was hired last year have resigned, and replacements are hard to find.

“I definitely already feel burned out,” said Kuza, who graduated in 2019 from the University of Pennsylvania School of Veterinary Medicine. “I don’t see myself doing emergency — or even veterinary medicine — long term.” She has begun to see a therapist, she said, and take medication.

When COVID-19 and vet medicine collided, it brewed “a perfect storm,” said Jennifer Keeler, executive director of the Pennsylvania Veterinary Medical Association.

“We started out with not being sure if vet clinics could remain open, and in the early days, they were only open for the emergency procedures,” she said. That pushed back routine wellness visits — and the backlog compounded as people began adopting or buying new pets and bringing them in for their first checkups.

“Once they were allowed to do routine care and trying to dig out of that backlog, a lot of staff members are parents whose kids are home,” she said, noting that the majority of veterinarians and veterinary technicians in the United States are women. “So a lot of vet clinics lost staff and have been unable to fill positions. It’s really put a lot of pressure on them.”

Coupled with new rules surrounding COVID-19, such as appointments that required owners to stay outside while their pet was being seen, more owners became frustrated and angry, Keeler said.

“That can be emotional for pet owners because they want to be in with their pet,” she said. “They often give a lot of push-back to vets and staff, so it’s kind of coming at vet professionals from all angles lately.”

Turnover is then high, she said, particularly when there is low pay, little job satisfaction, burnout, and compassion fatigue. Vet technicians and technologists earned an annual median pay of $36,260 in 2020, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The agency found that the veterinarians averaged $108,350 a year as of last May.

“I get cursed at at least once a week,” said an emergency veterinarian in Philadelphia who requested anonymity for fear of jeopardizing her job. People also have threatened and yelled at her, she said, slammed doors in her face, and walked out on $2,000 bills. “It’s definitely gotten much worse.”

The workload, too, has been fierce: In the first week of the pandemic, she said, a few cat owners who began to spend more time at home observed their pets more closely and brought them in to be examined. She diagnosed three with having abdominal tumors. And she examined more puppies than usual, many of which came from Lancaster County, Missouri, or Ohio, hot spots for puppy mills.

“Everyone just wants a puppy so much right now that puppies that wouldn’t get adopted with heart murmurs or hernias are getting adopted,” she said.

Recently, she noticed an uptick in animals that had ingested marijuana.

She said she had used her own money to pay for the treatment of six animals surrendered to her practice during the COVID-19 outbreak. One was a puppy with a broken leg; another, a cat with a severed tail.

“There’s no end in sight,” she said, and recalled a shift when she had to handle 15 emergencies by herself. “And we’re just working harder and harder and harder.”

Despite increased stress, “in general, I’m doing better than most people,” she said. “... You have to not take things personally. You have to come up with ways to cope, or you can’t deal with it.”

As it stands, the industry feels broken, said Braelyn Bankoff, a graduate of Penn Vet. She left her job as a small-animal vet in April 2020 after the job left her anxious and unhappy.

“The vet world right now feels set up to go poorly from the start,” she said, and pointed to the high cost of vet school that led to people “feeling trapped” or “forced to work unsustainably,” and the expense of running a tight-margin animal hospital that invited the pressure of seeing as many patients a day as possible. The stress, so crippling at times, has given rise to Not One More Vet, a national nonprofit dedicated to bettering the mental health of vet staff.

“It puts more burden on the existing staff and results in crazy hours, unsustainable workloads, too many client expectations you just can’t support,” Bankoff said.

She ultimately found that the pressure was unhealthy.

“I started developing stress-related illness,” she said. “I saw a psychiatrist and had to get on antidepressants and anxiety medication.” She quit her job without another one lined up and started a job search. She landed her current position, an analyst for the National Board of Medical Examiners, in January.

“It’s absolutely amazing,” she said. “I have hobbies now. I have a life. I am no longer on any meds. I feel very much myself again, and that’s awesome.”

***

Published June 7, 2021. The author, Katie Park, is suburban development reporter for the Philadelphia Inquirer.

#veterinarian #animal hospital #pets #veterinary medicine #dogs and cats

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

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Autumn in My Heart (Taeyong x you, you x Jaehyun)

hello, another fic I made that flopped, but I want to bring this back with another pairing. I love this, still one of the angst I made that I feel okay to post.

One shot - angst/fluff

a/n : Taeyong sounds like a bad boyfriend, but trust me he isn’t. Jaehyun is the rebound you found in the middle of a storm.

(Posted on wattpad before, and one in tumblr as an exo pairing but only got 1 notes ☹)

Enjoy

The picturesque scene of red and orange trees cannot fool the dull and sombre race of falling leaves pulled by the gravity. Be honest, autumn is depressing. See the falling leaves, dying every time a gush of cold wind tingles. (y/n) hates seeing the piles of dead leaves on the ground, she feels like the trees are selfish that they let the leaves die in order to survive.

The clock strikes six when you have put on your tailor fitted Pea coat from Schott’s. Tonight, your favorite fragrance from Chloe accompanies you. You inhale your favorite floral scent and get ready as your smart watch rings with a caller ID you love dearly. Your lover has rung you up saying he is downstairs waiting for you to take your time. You make your last tuck on your Pea coat and pocket your phone as you slipped your feet to the leather boots. You make sure to kiss your corgi good bye before keeping the key in your pocket and slightly run to meet the waiting prince; your waiting prince!

The elevator ride almost killed you; you frown whenever the door opens and what greet you are the foreign faces of your neighbor from other floors; after pressing the close button five more times, you finally reach your destination. With your round eyes you scan the whole room and find your prince in no time. His fashion and his tall body make him easy to spot.

“Taeyong! I’m here, let’s go!” you cling into the taller man’s arm and giddily drag him out of the warm lobby. The early cold wind harshly welcomes both of you outside; Taeyong clears his throat and pulls you closer. He takes in your small hand, holds it firm in his big hand, and pops it nicely into his toasty pocket of his Burberry trench coat. “It’s starting to get cold,” Taeyong smiles.

You blush, even when Taeyong had done this for three consecutive autumns, your heart will always beat like it was your first time. You did nothing though and just follow his long legs that bring them to a place you know a bit too much.

“Usual place Yong?”

The tall blonde man nods and after walking through the busy streets, you found yourself in a restaurant district. Your stomach growl when the delicious smell of your favorite food can be smelled from a meter. You both sit down on your usual chairs, place the same ordinary menu; a Hawaiian pizza slice for you and a Pepperoni for Taeyong. Though Taeyong never agrees that pineapple goes with pizza, he never speaks his opinion out loud to you, he just can’t. Try and say that to a person who really enjoys it and do you dare see their heart breaks? No Taeyong doesn’t want to break her heart; it’s the last thing he wanted to do to (Y/n).

Dinner is amazing. Over two slices of giant pizza and soda, you exchange stories, laugh over new jokes, and secretly treasure this sweet moment. You both end their pizza date with a split bill and with the warmth of a full stomach. The couple make their way out of the bright, fragrance road and move to another crowded and romantic district.

You told Taeyong about a new milkshake shop opening in here in Gangnam, and Taeyong will do everything that brings a smile to your face. With you standing close by his side, Taeyong naturally slides his arm to hug your slim waist from the side as he reads the menu in the TV from the queuing line.

The café is full of sweet couples, the atmosphere here is so warm and comfortable, Taeyong knows this will 99% become their favorite hangout place.

“We’re so sorry, but we sold the second last cup already… We only have one left for the special house favorite’s chocolate,” the man with a name tag reading Doyoung, smiles apologetically to the two sweet couple across him.

You run your eyes to the TV screen to look for another substitute, but Taeyong was faster.

“No problem, an extra straw will do. How much for the last cup?” Taeyong hands Doyoung his card and swipes the bill.

You squeal deep inside your heart, how come Taeyong could always do a new sweet action every time we go out?!

“You sure don’t want anything else?” you ask when Taeyong lets go off his straw after a good five sips.

Taeyong shakes his head and raises his thumb to wipe a trace of chocolate from your lips, “No, you can have them all. It tastes good and I know you like them so much.” Taeyong kisses his thumb and cleans the chocolate from your lips.

You playfully punch Taeyong, “What’s into you?! Why are you suddenly this sweet!”

Taeyong laughs it off and rolls his eyes, “Because I am a nice boyfriend? Come on admit it—” you shut him off with a quick peck “—I’m going to have heart attack (y/n), if you are making that a habit.”

After making a loud sip to ensure you leave nothing on the bottom of the glass, you and Taeyong step out of the lovely café. Both of you freeze when you see people carrying umbrellas and celebrating something.

“The first snow!” Both of you choir and giggle upon welcoming the cold winter!

You reach for a folded umbrella you had brought in your pocket and this time take the lead to pull the taller man closer and tries your best to raise the umbrella to his height. Taeyong cannot oppress his gummy smile and allows you do your thing.

“I am not taking care of a sick Taeyong again, that’s why I read the weather forecast earlier and they predicted the first snow the fall. Turns out they were accurate this year, come Yong let’s walk under the first snow!” you sneakily place your hand into Taeyong’s coat and the taller simply holds your hand.

You both have fun for a moment under the first snow, took some pictures and updated your social media platforms.

“The snow is falling harder; shall we head home?” Taeyong worries for your health. The two of you are responsible for coming on working days, falling sick is something you two can’t afford.

You do not refuse; along your careful steps on the slippery grounds the couple doesn’t stop talking at all. You will find new topics whenever a topic seems to come to an end. Tonight is a good date night. The date night ends with Taeyong ushering you back to your Apartment room.

“Goodbye Yongie, thank you for tonight!” you shake your wet umbrella.

“No problem sweetie, I’ll be going now,”

“Wait—” you run to your room and return not long after it, you get on the tip of your toes and wrap a warm red scarf over Taeyong “—take that with you, it’s my winter present. Stay safe okay and call me when you got home.” you bury your face on his chest as he hugs you tight.

“Thanks honey, Good night.” Taeyong steps back and waves his hand.

You wiggle your hand in panic, “Oh take the umbrella! And please just grab a taxi!” you push your umbrella to Taeyong’s hand.

Taeyong chuckles and tousles your soft hairs, “Yes maam! I can take care of myself—” Taeyong winks and you only roll your eyes. The tall blonde makes his stealing move and kiss the plump lips of yours before finally going back home.

Sun rises and sets, moon shines and hides, the world rotates, and time runs. Your love for each other blooms, although the relationship has ups and downs, the two of you can overcome the big waves and sail your ship to another calm ocean. A calm sea will never make a skilful sailor, and one day the biggest wave crashes to their ship, and you feel like you are forcefully drowned into the dark deep grief of heart breaks.

The road is crowded, well at least there are cars speeding in the road, and your sparkly eyes are fixed on a “sweet” scene in front of you. Yeah sweet if the people you saw were someone you did not know, or your best friend; but seriously not sweet if it’s your boyfriend you saw over the road holding hands with another pretty girl, wrapped in an expensive suit looking all lovey dovey with your man. Maybe Taeyong did not know or see you on the other side of the road, but you cannot mistake that man as someone else. Your eyes turn red; you fetch your phone and take the speed dial to call Taeyong. You wait for a moment with your eyes fixed on the two people across you.

The pedestrian traffic turns green, and you see the two of them walking to cross the road. You quickly hide yourself in an old payphone box while still listening to the waiting tone and keeping an eye on Taeyong. When Taeyong made it with the sweet smiling guy to the same street as yours, you swear your call was sent to voicemail. Taeyong also presses his screen earlier, hufth he didn’t even hesitate to reject your call. Insteaad, Taeyong looks so happy walking with this new girl. Your jealousy and suspicion completely take over you, you lean over the small phone box and stare at your screen emptily.

“Sorry, busy can’t pick up your call.” taeyong’s message appears in his notification bar.

You swallow the stuck lump in your throat; disappointed and angry, you run back to your apartment. You were planning to buy dinner and surprise Taeyong in his office for working overtime. If his vocabulary for overtime means having a walk with another woman, heol you won’t bother coming to see him.

You lock yourself in your room and cry your heart out, your stomach grumbles, but your heart aches more. You ignore all of the calls and messages in your phone. Thirty minutes later you wipe your eyes and after ensuring your heart you need to do this: you text a number.

“Yuta, you’re right… I’m coming to the dinner tomorrow. What’s his name again?”

This time you regret not listening to your friends when they warned you about your boyfriend playing fire behind your back. You are too naïve and blunt to realize Taeyong has slowly changed. He was not as sweet as he used to, he got busy, and he rarely picked your calls. At first you simply forgive him; thinking he must be busy with his works, turns out you are living blindly.

Taeyong paces in his room while sticking phone to his ear. He bites his lips when the line beeps but no one seems to answer the call.

“Pick up. Pick up (Y/n)…. Please… I’m worried sick…” Taeyong ends the waiting and jumps to the message room. He sends more messages asking if you are okay, why are you not picking up calls, and why are you not reading his messages.

Taeyong feels guilty rejecting your call earlier, but he cannot pick the call there when he thinks his coworker has a big crush and is flirting with him. Taeyong cannot bring himself to answer the call and crushes the cute girl’s dream. Yes, his co-worker is lately clinging on his side, and Taeyong cannot lie and say she’s unattractive. She is a calm and nice woman, good with works, and Taeyong finds it hard to keep his heart stable when she’s around.

Taeyong thought he saved the girl from crying in the streets, when in reality his real girlfriend is the one crying on the busy streets… by herself. Poor Taeyong doesn’t know this.

The next morning, you did not bat an eye nor reply any of Taeyong’s messages. You muted his number and prepare for work. As you spray your perfume, the front door beeps open and a tall man you used to love, but now hate, shows up with a bouquet of yellow flowers on his hand.

“Good morning sunshine! What’s with the cloudy face?” Taeyong extends his hand to give you the arrangement.

You look at his sickening handsome smile and walk to take your working bag. “Nothing. I’m tired of work and this life full of lies.”

Taeyong frowns, “What do you mean?”

You just hum an “I don’t know” tone and occupy yourself with packing your lunch and laptop.

Taeyong walks to the kitchen table and picks your phone, he scrolls through the notifications and shakes his head, “WOW! You haven’t opened my text, not a single one! Why?” he sounds confused.

You’re the type to always have your phone on your nose almost every second, what’s with leaving him unread?

You snatch your phone, “I fell asleep earlier yesterday after you said I shouldn’t come and have dinner with you, since you’re taking overtime.”

Taeyong sighs, “Come on (y/n), you’re acting like this just because I denied your offer to eat dinner together?” you walk away.

“Don’t act so childish. We can always have dinner together tonight or other nights.” Taeyong snaps.

You keep your cold face on; take your lunch and working bag, and slip into your shoes. Taeyong shadows you all over the place.

“Really? Then why did you cancel it yesterday?” You hold on to the door knob.

“I had a sudden meeting.” Taeyong lies quickly.

“Oh so now you call walking with another woman without companion, while acting lovely is your definition of meeting. To me I call that a secret date mister!” you stomp your foot, “Now go! Leave! I am tired of your lies!!” you exit the room, but Taeyong holds a grip of your hand.

“but…” Taeyong is cut off by your voice “For your information Taeyong, I saw you with my own eyes walking with a woman and rejecting my call.” you raise your tone and his face turns red. You break your hand free and rush to the parking lot.

Taeyong runs after you, but luck must’ve left him today for the lift closes before he can reach you. You are clearly mad and fed up, for you are not trying to do anything to clean up the misunderstanding.

Your day goes on differently, you are still absorbed in the sadness and pain, while Taeyong… Taeyong thinks today’s problem will end like any others. His day is smooth and the woman from yesterday even offers him coffee. Upon seeing Taeyong busy checking his phone; waiting for someone to call or chat; she asks him, “What’s bothering you?”

Taeyong thinks for a while, should he tell her what actually happened, but what if things get darker and dangerous? After some consideration, Taeyong decides to use the help chance. He told her what happened yesterday and earlier this morning. She just laughs and comes up with a solution, “I can help you clarify this… Give me her number, I’ll talk to her.”

Taeyong denies that idea at first, but after some more convincing words from her, he gave up your phone number to her. He thought maybe you would listen to her.

Sure, her idea was not completely wrong, You answers her call in a friendly manner and you did not blame her for anything. You listened to all of her kind and sincere explanation, but your heart still cannot easily forgive Taeyong for doing it.

You dress up nicely in a bomber jacket and put on a cap to hide your puffy eyes. You take your step to greet your date tonight, the man Yuta told him about. Jung Jaehyun, son of the CEO of Neo corporation: Korea’s first leading group in food supply, while Taeyong is the son of the second leading group.

To put it into words, Jaehyun is a man of daydream. He is everything you expected when meeting a living prince charming. He talks in his deep voice, his choice of words are amazing, his fashion taste is casual yet daydreaming, his manners are polished as perfect as one can be, but no matter how nice and perfect Jaehyun is, your heart cannot stop comparing him to Taeyong. Taeyong is not as perfect as him, Taeyong is more of the clumsy type and silly. However, one thing for sure, you like Jaehyun’s jokes better than Taeyong’s.

His choice of place for a first meeting is way beyond expectation. You would have dressed up properly if you knew Jaehyun is bringing you to a secluded private restaurant. You seal your mouth tightly about this date, yet Taeyong knows.

You come home with a bright smiling face, Jaehyun had just dropped you off from his Mercedes-Benz G65. You secretly smile to yourself and wrap your jacket tighter as you enter the lift to reach the floor. You can’t stop humming small tunes while taking steps.

With a big surprised face, you take a step back when Taeyong greets you in his stern voice.

“Why are you here?” you sound annoyed. Your mood totally jumped from hype to down.

Taeyong raises his brow, “Am I not allowed to visit my lover? Beside I came here to check if she’s here yet, since she ignored my calls and texts.” You make your way to the kitchen and fill yourself a glass of water, “Well, sorry but I have someone to see tonight,” you shrug your shoulder.

Taeyong joins you to the small kitchen, “Yeah and I just found out my girl, without my acknowledge, went to meet another man and came home—” he glances at his watch, “—late, my girl came home pretty late. It’s 10!”

You finish your glass of water, and slam the cup a bit too hard, “So what? I’m big enough to come home whenever I want and I can take care of myself.”

“Who’s that man? How are you sure he is someone good?” Taeyong elevates his tone.

You take a deep breath and speak out loud clearly, “it’s none of your business! Even I did not know who the woman you’re with yesterday was and I did not ask you anything! I did not interrogate you Lee Taeyong!” you spit those words in one breath. You toss your jacket then lock yourself in the room. Taeyong knocks on your door relentlessly and all he gets is silence.

Silence from the loudest person is the scariest thing

You wake up with heavy head, puffy blood shot eyes, and a runny nose. You force yourselfto leave the bed and calls in for a day off today. You have called Jaehyun last night and told the new man everything, something in your heart screams that Jaehyun can help and Jaehyun will not hurt you like Taeyong did. With your beloved corgi walking beside you, You open the apartment door and freeze when you see Taeyong sleeping uncomfortably on the floor.

“Babo-ya,” You scoff in your mind and leave the big baby on the floor. You make yourself a glass of tea and gul an aspirin down your dry throat. You take your time writing a short note and stick it on Taeyong’s free arm. You bend to place a soft kiss on his temple, probably your last, and secretly leave.

Taeyong wakes up from the pain his back screams for sleeping on the floor, he yawns and stretches then looks around and realizes he had fallen asleep when begging you to open the door. He sees the post it on his arm and he quickly read it. His brow scrunches as the line gets down, and finally they widen and his mouth fell. Taeyong lost his sense of touch, hearing, and sight… he feels like a thunder just hit him and he’s drowned in his emotions. He slowly sits on the sofa and re-reads the nicely written letter. He makes sure to not miss any single word or get the wrong idea. But no matter how many times he checks the letter again, the words don’t change.

“(y/n) wants us to end it here,” Taeyong speaks to himself, the blonde quickly searches the house. Hoping to find the woman he was looking for, he needs to discuss this with you. Seriously you did not need to break up over a silly matter!

“(y/n)-ie, what do you mean? We can talk about this… where are you?” Taeyong puts on his shoes and coat.

“We don’t have to discuss anything Tae. We’re not meant to be, I realized we’re not made for each other. Our parents don’t even support this relationship we had for three and a half years. It’s over Taeyong, go get that woman and I will go my way.” You explain as best as you can.

“No, We need to meet. We’re not breaking up over phone. I don’t consider our relationship over just because you decided it by yourself. We need to meet.” Taeyong grips his phone harder.

“I can’t Tae, I’m no longer near you. Bye,” you said.

Taeyong hears the faint background sound and damn that you are in the airport, where the hell are you going now without telling him.

You turn off your call and sadly stare at the wallpaper. It’s a picture of happy Taeyong and you laughing under the mistletoe from last Christmas.

“Are we ready to go?” Jaehyun’s deep voice resonates beside you. You groggily nod and copy his steps to the boarding gate. You take one last heavy breath; yes you are leaving Korea and Taeyong behind. This is what your family wants, this is for the best.

You come from the family of the leading electronic cooperation in Korea; turns out your parents had made an agreement to make you and Jaehyun an official pair. Simply said your parents arranged your marriage with Jung family for the sake of business. Your family does not have a good history with the Lee family. Both Taeyong and you had been trying your best to keep your boat sailing despite the harsh wind made by your own families, but you have had enough. Both of you used to think if you are together, you can fight your families and live happily ever after, but that’s too good to be true.

Now, your parents have made a lot of agreements with The Jung family, and that explains why you are sent to leave Korea with Jaehyun the night when you reported Taeyong’s actions. Your father used the situation to break you apart, and he partly succeeded.

Right now, you are seated on the first-class flight to Britain, with your future fiancé (That’s what your parents insisted).

The loving couple separated without a clear ending, Taeyong still lives his life to the fullest he can, but everything is pointless when you are not in his life. He did not date anyone, he still holds on to the belief that you are still his girlfriend, and he is still committed to you, he woman he loves.

His colleague has tried a lot of things to set Taeyong up with a new date, but none of them seems to win his heart. Taeyong only attends the blind dates she made, just to respect her kindness and attention. That woman herself has won the heart of the cute guy in the milkshake shop Taeyong and you once visited, Doyoung. She was close with Taeyong because she needs help with winning the cute man’s heart. The night when you went home with Jaehyun, Taeyong was actually waiting for you to explain everything. Taeyong wanted to tell you that you don’t have to be jealous of the woman, for she has her heart and eyes for another man. Fate did not let him explain anything that night, and the next day you were already gone from his life.

Taeyong changes into a cold and quiet man, while you have opened your heart to the new man. You realize Jaehyun shares a lot of things in common with you. Knowing the new tall man with dimple is easy and both of you get along so well. You spend a good two years in England, and have to return to Korea when the working contract for Jaehyun ended.

–

The plane touched down on the land of Korea, where the leaves are starting to fall and the winds getting colder. You sigh it’s once again autumn, you always hate autumn.

Jaehyun feels he needs to check the office and sends you home by yourself. You did not mind, instead you are happy you can have your time alone here.

You take the taxi to a park you missed. A small park with benches for couples to seat and enjoy the falling leaves with the big Han River across them. You breathe in the autumn leaves and slightly smile when the memories you made here with Taeyong slowly floods his mind. A small tug is felt in your heart, how is that handsome blonde doing? You walk and walk then sit at one of the empty benches, your hand traces the old wood and smile when your eyes caught a small scribble that still managed to be intact even when seasons has changed.

You trace the craving and secretly hide a smile when the memory comes back in your mind.

The writing of Taeyong and (y/n) in a big heart, deriving from four years ago. You remembered craving your names cheesily on a park bench when the first leaf fell. You scoff when you realize a lot of things you did with Taeyong are associated with autumn.

You close your eyes for a while and found yourself awaken in surprise when a familiar voice greets you.

“(y/n)?” the voice sounds unsure, “(y/n)?! It’s really you?” this time it sounds surprised and a bit happy.

You open your eyes and gulp when the same man you left without news is here again in front of you. The man you shared love, the man you secretly hate and love, the same man who used to be your happiness. He looks different! He definitely loses weight, his hair is now plain and boring brown, his eyes no longer offers the star and galaxy you used to spend your time gazing. His voice didn’t change though, still the same deep voice that never fails to make you tremble.

“Taeyong, well… yes this is me.” you sheepishly admit.

“It’s been a while,” Taeyong opens his mouth. He takes the empty spot beside you.

“Look Taeyong, I don’t have much time,” you dare yourself to face him and hold your tears back. You almost broke down in tears when you once again sees the man you love standing here across you.

“I know it was hard for both of us, but that was the best for us. This is the best for us.” Taeyong stays quiet despite wanting to kiss you and tell you everything he kept to himself for a good two years, but no he wants to listen to you. He reflected for two years and he wanted to make up all his bad mistakes.

“Fate doesn’t let us be together… our family hates one another… we can’t… we just can’t be one Taeyong.” You bite your lips and hold your tears back. Your heart is breaking right now when you see the broken look in Taeyong’s eyes.

When you first saw Taeyong sitting beside you, you swore you saw a glint of hope in his eyes but now you completely kill it. You hate yourself for once again hurting Taeyong, but this is for their own goods.

You can no longer hold back your tears, the wall you made breaks down right in front of Taeyong. You hide your face in your hands and your shoulder moves as you express all of your bottled-up emotions. Something glints under the last rays of the sun and Taeyong moves closer to your side. He bravely takes you into a hug and he brings his thumb to wipe the crystals falling over your smooth cheeks. Taeyong cannot speak a word, his mouth goes mute all he knows is his life is completely dark now without you. It was dark already before when you left, but now when you clearly said that… Taeyong feels like dying.

“Goodbye Taeyong,” you stand up and walk to leave the broken hearted man. You turn one last time to see your unrequited love; and you force your last sweet smile, “Thank you for the memories.” you take quick steps to leave the park and Taeyong. A strong wind blows and makes the piles of orange dried leaves fly around and when it’s over. You are completely not anywhere to be seen.

Taeyong closes his eyes and memorizes the last words from his love, you left him completely now. (y/n) left his presence, his world, and his hopes. Taeyong fishes his jacket and pulls out a velvet box, he snaps it open and a simple diamond ring is shining there. Well, he’s been carrying this around since you left, he wanted to propose to you whenever he got the chance to see you , but turns out your ring finger is occupied already with the same diamond ring he had in mind will fit your slender finger. Taeyong keeps the ring again in the box and he pockets it again in his left chest. He lets his tears run through his face as he walks along with the last falling leaf.

He leaves the love of his life with tears and thousands of memories. Taeyong smiles bitterly when he remembers how you always hate autumn. Turns out all memories with you are prominent in autumn: your least favorite season.

flashback <<<

“I hate autumn Yong, can you imagine how selfless the tree is, letting the leaf die so it can live longer.” you pointed to an almost bald tree.

Taeyong pinches your cute cheeks, “Well yes the trees are selfish Sweetie, but did you see how sincere the leaves are? I’m sure the tree did not want the leaves to die, instead I think the leaf sacrifice itself so the tree can live,” you cut him, “But why Yong? Why must the leaves die for the tree?”

Taeyong holds his lover’s hand tighter in his jacket, “Because my (y/n)-ie, that way the tree can survive the harsh cold winter and make new leaf later on spring. That way the leaf and the tree are once again together!”

You nod your head, “Woah that’s a better theory! You should definitely be the one telling our kids bed time stories later on!” You cheerfully peck a kiss on Taeyong’s lips and blushes.

“Just like love, you must sacrifice for the one you love.” Taeyong leans in for another kiss.

“I love you Yong, now and forever!” You lean your head on Taeyong’s strong and wide shoulder.

“I love you most (y/n), I’ll be like the leaf in autumn!” Taeyong whispers to his world; you

The two people in different place share the same memory tonight.

As the moon shines and the first snow falls, they secretly whisper each other “I still love you.”

end

:”) thank you for reading

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