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wolf-and-bard · 3 years

Text

Drown With Me If You Can

Prompt: White Frost/Apocalypse

Relationships: Arnaghad/Erland of Larvik (from one of the witcher-centric cards)

Rating: M

Content Warnings: swear words, grief, themes of giving up on life and hopelessness at the beginning

Summary: After the fall of Kaer Seren, all that is left for Erland to do in his gloomy cave is write his journal and let the cold take him. He doesn’t expect to be saved, especially not by his former-lover-turned-nemesis Arnaghad. In which: Erland wallows and Arnaghad calls him out on his bullshit. A lot.

Word Count: 5.6k

AO3 link

I close out this account with a warning: the knowledge I hereby hope to preserve is essential for the day the monsters return to our crypts, our battlefields, and our gardens. It is a call to battle and heroism and in that it is treacherous. If you use these pages with the intention to do good in this world, you will soon find yourself to be an outcast among humans. You will save them and they will spit at you. You will beg for fair payment and they will burn you at the stake. Be prepared for that, and take up the sword nonetheless for if you do not, no one will. Peace, brothers and sisters of the future, peace and blessings of the Gods. May you never need this journal.

Erland signs the bottom of the last page with fingers gnarled by the cold, trembling from how his muscles have hardened as a result of his lethargy. When it is done, he grips the quill hard, clings to it. It is a childish instinct that makes him do this, but this feather has been his lifeline for the past… past. A lifeline to the past. Time flakes away from Erland the same way the tattered pieces of the quill do once it breaks under his tightening fingers. The last few pages of his journal are barely legible and he can’t tell whether that is because his vision is fails him, like a pane of glass slowly devoured by a sheen of ice, or because his script has fallen prey to his tremor. As Erland waits for the ink to dry, he uses his weak hand to arrange his good one into the proper gesture for an Igni and casts it down the dark tunnel of his home.

A perfect cone of lightly crackling flames shoots outward, illuminating the glazed rock all around. The sign holds for several breaths, steady and sturdy and its heat singes Erland’s frayed cuffs, has the ceiling drip crystalline melt-off. Erland smiles grimly to himself and shuts the journal. This time can’t take from him and the ice won’t feast on, this his body will always know how to do. A perfect channelling of what Chaos he may access.

Shaking, Erland crawls over to his makeshift bedroll – a dirt-hardened pellet of furs he collected on his way up here, a long hike with Kaer Seren a steady ruin at his back and the names of his brothers and children a steady weight on his shoulders – and collapses on top of it.

It is done. His lips trace the outlines of these words, but his tongue is too heavy to lift. Erland sneezes into his pillow and draws a ratty quilt over himself. It used to be bursting with reds and oranges, a gift from an old woman for saving her granddaughter from an early death by harpy, but now it is faded and as grimy as the rest of him. Erland cannot distinguish the colours of his belongings any longer, not even in the stale light of the last sparks of the Igni that cling to the cave’s walls.

It is done.

His journal is finished, his life chronicled, his school honoured and his knowledge preserved. All that is left to the former griffin master is to wait for the sparks of his life to die out alongside those of his magic. Erland flops onto his belly and uses his weak hand to arrange the fingers of his good one into the shape of Axii. His wrist creaks when he angles the hand at his own face and he casts it with the same impeccable precision. The spell hits instantly and his body goes slack, his mind punctured through by holes. Erland sleeps and hopes a harsh wind will blow through his abode tonight.

II.

There is a long interval of darkness that is marked by bursts of hot and cold shivers that wreck his body, but Erland doesn’t truly wake and by the time he does, he isn’t sure that they were real at all. He goes through a stage of sleep paralysis in which all he can do is to stare at the coarse ceiling of the cave. It has frozen back over and if there were any light, Erland would see his own face reflected in it. Sunken cheeks, eyes reddened from burst capillaries, undercut grown out into shaggy strings of hair. The griffin tattooed on the side of his skull drowns in them, just like the griffin witchers drowned in dust and snow the day their school was buried in an avalanche.

Erland sighs. He cannot move a muscle for half an eternity. His nose itches and another sneeze finally frees him, releases him into an unsettled slumber that pushes him along the maze of corridors that is his own memory. He retraces every step he took along the Path, faces all the monsters he slaughtered and all the humans he failed to convince that he shouldn’t be slaughtered alongside them.

There is no lesson to be learned from these dreams. Only patience. Erland has long lived with his regrets, knows them as intimately as the beasts whose traits he noted down in his journal. Only patience, yes. In all his striving to be more than a mere mercenary or rat-catcher perhaps his most undervalued and least practiced virtue.

Erland can be patient.

He vaguely remembers one who never was, an old friend, a former lover who faced the world with steel first and foremost, steel accompanied by a detached pragmatism that was so at war with everything Erland believed in. That friend – now less than an enemy – would not have lain here so wallowing in the drawn-out pain of his end days. He would not have waited for his death, he would have summoned it by drawing his slowly rusting blades and cutting himself open, would have watched his hot blood hiss against the ice at the heart of this mountain and would have born a proud curl of his lip until the moment the fire in his own heart extinguished.

Erland smiles and his jaw creaks.

He takes the high-road.

He…

He sleeps.

He thrashes.

He recites every lesson the knight Gryphon ever taught him. They are the foundation of his life’s work, they are all he has left.

He is patient.

III.

Erland is caught in a sleep paralysis once more when it enters the mountains. The monsters usually haunt him when he’s somewhere in the realm of insanity, but now he is wide awake, body one rigid line under the quilt that has long since lost its ability to keep out the winter, which means the thing could be very real and out for his blood. Its steps boom and quake through the rock for hours before the giant passes into the dead end that is Erland’s makeshift dwelling. Even with no light to illuminate it, Erland can see it glittering, can see its giant head swing left and right, can hear the scrape of its fragile marble skin against the walls.

An ice elemental.

If Erland is extra lucky, this used to be its lair and he accidentally usurped it. There is no moving away, no putting up a fight and he resigns himself to a quick and violent death after all. How graceful of Destiny to show her face now, after everything else has passed her by.

But then the ice elemental shakes off the snow, hundreds of flakes that rain down to cover the floor, and Erland blinks. The outline of the monster softens from harsh crystals to wet strands of fur that hug broad shoulders. A werewolf? Erland can’t draw breath, doesn’t trust his ears when the thing opens its mouth and speaks, a deep baritone. Not nearly raspy enough to be of anything other than human origin.

"Alzur’s rotten balls, Erland is that you?"

Erland wants to laugh. Of all the demons the depths of his consciousness could have summoned to this cursed place, it had to be Arnaghad. Arnaghad with his hulking form and his smooth voice, his tattered bearskin overcoat and his terrible timing. Always terrible. He can’t laugh, of course, can’t do more than wheeze faintly.

A torch flares up, casting eerily long shadows at the feet of the apparition, more real than anything Erland has thought in a long time. At the same time, Erland catches Arnaghad’s eyes – dark ochre with narrow slits, eyes that are set deeply under bushy eyebrows which underline the blocky shape of Arnaghad’s face as though it was whittled from planks of red birch – and Arnaghad starts.

“It is you,” he says and follows that up with a curse Erland can’t discern, courtesy of Arnaghad’s Gemmeran linguistic oddities that persist to this day. With them comes a harsh edge to all his syllables and a tendency to mouth-breathe. Funny how after decades of reciprocal avoidance, Erland still remembers these details. Casting his mind down the drainage canal of history, he also remembers himself: a young fighter, just two decades of age, stuck in a body that was overflowing with emotions of visionary self-determination, of rough-and-fast passion, of compassionate anger. Erland waits for the spark of that anger to rekindle, especially as he watches Arnaghad toss his swords and pack and drop to his knees by Erland’s pellet, the torch held close. It’s heat licks across Erland’s cheeks and cradles his skull.

It remains the only heat.

His anger is but a relic of a more complicated time.

“By all the gods,” Arnaghad breathes, hand passing over Erland’s sweaty forehead. His touch too feels familiar, feels too familiar, but his scent isn’t and neither is the concern that drenches his tone. “You look like a giant lump of bird shit.”

Erland’s nostrils flare. Slowly, ever so slowly, his lips peel back in a snarl. He still can’t move, no matter how much he tries. He wants the ice elemental back, if only for the simplicity of its puny gravel brain. Arnaghad’s may only be a smidge bigger and more substantial, but with that comes so much. Arguments that have been left unburied, thoughts that have been left unspoken, memories that have been left unfinished.

Erland hisses weakly through his teeth and Arnaghad growls in reply. He doesn’t extinguish the torch, he sticks it into the ground somewhere to Erland’s right and sits back on his heels, the growl building and building. Erland drifts off again, waiting for Arnaghad to speak. He hopes that when he wakes, the phantom will be gone.

IV.

If anything, Arnaghad has solidified by the time Erland opens his eyes again. He sits by Erland’s bedside still, even cross-legged tall enough that his head grazes the ceiling of the cave if he straightens. Before him he stokes a small campfire with several crude bursts of Igni.

“That is a waste of precious firewood,” Erland says, voice croaky. He pushes himself up onto his forearms, head sluggish to lift from the scratchy pillows. Arnaghad doesn’t turn around, instead he retrieves an iron pot from his belongings and presses it against the cave’s wall, using his dagger to scrape off the ice there. Practical, first and foremost, that is exactly how Erland remembers his lover of yore. Lover being a euphemism for something Erland still cannot name.

“I’m hungry,” Arnaghad says and fires another sign. Briefly, the cave explodes with heat and Erland just about stifles a vulgar moan. When did he last have the pleasure of warmth this intense and indulgent? The fire slowly seeps into his blankets and furs and nestles against his skin. He sinks back into them and closes his eyes. “Besides,” the bear witcher continues. “You might have died of hypothermia if I hadn’t started it. It’s almost funny, Erland the righteous asshole letting himself freeze to death, where is the glory in that? Alas, I find it hard to believe that you have developed a sense of humour since last we met.”

“Neither have you.”

“Ha,” Arnaghad says and that’s it for a while. Erland listens to the water boil, to Arnaghad hacking at dried vegetables and jerky. It doesn’t even smell bad and despite his self-imposed fast, Erland’s stomach rumbles and the inside of his mouth feels coated in dirt. How long has it been since last he drank? It didn’t matter until Arnaghad stampeded into his life again, shaking him awake.

Erland sneezes.

Maybe not all of him.

“Bless you,” Arnaghad grumbles. “So, how did you end up here, little birdie? Your wings broken?”

“I’m not little and griffins aren’t birds.”

“Smartass.”

Erland snorts. He isn’t about to stoop down to Arnaghad’s level and start bickering and he has no inclination for small-talk. That’s what he tells himself anyway. A part of him is almost… glad for the company. Glad for this company in particular. Fuck that.

“I will allow you to stay the night,” Erland says, and squints to see Arnaghad raise one of his caterpillar eyebrows at him. It isn’t like either of them can tell day from night, and depending on where Arnaghad entered the tunnel system of the Dragon Mountains, the last time he saw sunlight may have been weeks ago. “Fine, I will allow you to have a rest. After, I want you gone.”

“I don’t care what you want. If it hadn’t been for me you would be a corpse right now. Take a peek.”

Erland follows the gesture of Arnaghad’s hand and glances down himself, gingerly lifts the blanket. He is swathed in thick, padded linens, an extra pair of breeches and woollen-knit socks. The bearskin that usually hugs Arnaghad’s shoulders is draped across him and what is more, his lips do not feel chapped any longer. His hair curls around his head in a long, neat braid, like a viper in slumber. Shit, how long was he out for?

“Have you considered that it might have been my explicit wish to die?”

“I have,” Arnaghad says on a low chuckle. “A ridiculous notion. You’re sick, that is all. Sick people lean towards melodrama.”

“I’m not being melodramatic,” Erland replies and, oh, there it is. Frustration breaking through the hard-packed stratum of the years like a flower through the earth in early spring. It’s fast to burst and blossom. He does try and sit up after all, but before the world can start to spin around him, Arnaghad has roughly pushed him back into the sheets.

“You are always melodramatic,” the bear witcher replies and glowers at him, face cast in darkness by his bulky outline. Erland’s eyes narrow.

“One night,” he says. “And then you’re gone.”

“We’ll see about that. The stew is going to have to cook for a bit, and you should go back to sleep. Want me to Axii you?”

“And have you make minced meat out of my brain? No thank you, I can do that myself,” Erland snaps. He’s being petulant, why is he being so petulant? It’s all these rifts tearing open in his chest, all these holes he abandoned when he left the order with his friends to found the griffin school. These holes pull him back to life and reality, pull him back through time and into a persona he thought he buried. Erland is not a child. Erland is the griffin grandmaster, Erland is a knight, Erland is a witcher. It doesn’t matter that these functions are all theory now, they make up his identity. Not Arnaghad and his quarrels. And yet…

Erland turns away, facing the wall. When he makes the gesture for the Axii, he doesn’t even have to use his hand to arrange the fingers. He didn’t want to live. Now he does. And that’s more than he can take after everything he’s lost. More than he deserves, really. Erland puts very little force behind the sign, letting it spill to the tips of his fingers then gently touching them to his own face and thankfully, the world blots out around him.

Arnaghad’s voice pulls him up again, like the detonation of a bomb.

“Wake up, stew’s ready.”

Before Erland is fully awake, a coughing fit grips his body and although it scratches at the back of his throat, it also feels freeing in a way, loosening the plaque on his bones and the dust in his chest.

“So you’re still a victim of your winter sickness,” Arnaghad laughs. “I wondered.”

“What do you know of it?” Erland’s voice is muffled as he wipes his mouth, the words come out spiteful, acidic. This time, he does have the strength to sit up on his bed, but he needs the sturdy stone wall at his back to keep him upright. It’s a cool antithesis to the slight swelter of the cave’s air, a gracious counter-force to the merrily burning fire and the bubbling stew.

“Erland, you have spent twenty odd winters in my embrace, would you not think some of that has stuck with me?”

“In the face of your betrayal, no, I would not,” Erland says, crossing his arms, though admittedly, Arnaghad is right. Erland has always been susceptible to the cold, more so than any of his fellow witchers. Perhaps that is because Skellige, in the shape of his mother, rejected him when he was young, or perhaps it is because of his father whose origin Erland still doesn’t care to investigate. Either way, when the frost’s first tendrils start to wind their way into the atmosphere, he falls ill with sneezes and shakes, fevers too. It must be winter already then.

“My betrayal, yes,” Arnaghad mutters and retrieves a wooden bowl from his pack into which he shovels some of the stew. It smells prickly and hot, thick with Ofieri spices and has Erland’s mouth water. Now that he is fully himself again, his senses have returned, an assault on his mind. As with any battle he ever fought, Erland decides to be methodical about it. First the food, then the fight. He reaches out for the bowl, but Arnaghad scoffs at his trembling hands. “Don’t think I’ll let your atrophied muscles spill any of this. It’s too damn good, here.” Arnaghad settles into a cross-legged seat before Erland and the fire paints a halo around him. He’s so big that it cowers at his back, which suits Erland fine. This way it is easier to ignore the concentrated, caring expression on the bear witcher’s face as he submerges a wooden spoon, scoops up a chunk of whatever dried meat he put into the stew and gently blows on it before holding it out.

“Why do you care?” Erland asks weakly, lips parting around the spoon. As soon as it hits his tongue – the perfect degree of scolding hot and spicy – he can’t help a small groan. Blunt though Arnaghad may be, his cooking has always been phenomenal. Erland’s stomach mewls for more.

“I always cared.”

“Funny way of showing that.” Erland gives him a pointed look and Arnaghad’s eyes dart along the scar that neatly sections Erland’s face. He has yet to receive even an attempt at apology for it. “Back then you didn’t seem too caring with me. In fact, I acutely remember your sword flaying me.”

“If I’d wanted to kill you, you would have died. But I didn’t want that then and I don’t want it now. I hold to my promises, Erland.”

Accusation is slabbed thickly onto those words and Arnaghad holds out another spoonful of stew which Erland dutifully swallows. It’s not the first time the sickness held him down so hard he had to be fed, but it feels strangely agitating for Arnaghad to be the one to do it. After he left and founded his own school, the only snippets Erland ever heard about the bear witcher were rumours of his death, especially with the vipers splitting off the bear school. Perhaps, Erland liked to believe that Arnaghad was dead because that took away the possibility of whatever was happening now. Perhaps, Erland left the one promise he spent all his life circumventing at Morgraig Castle the day he set out for Kaer Seren. Perhaps, Arnaghad didn’t change at all and neither did Erland.

“Do you even remember?” Arnaghad asks quietly, then allows himself a few gulps of soup before refilling the bowl. He doesn’t meet Erland’s eyes, but Erland can see the faint glow of anguish speckling his cheekbones. Oh, but this is bad. If Arnaghad goes berserk in here, they’ll both be buried in rock and ice and Erland is too awake and vivacious now to want that.

“Remember what?” Erland asks, feigning ignorance as long as that leaves him the proverbial high ground, the only place from which he can match Arnaghad’s sheer height. He accepts another two spoons, then shakes his head. His stomach feels brilliantly full, close to bursting, and he rubs it weakly. Arnaghad puts the bowl to his lips and drinks the rest of the stew. They’ll both want more later, especially with the firewood dwindling, but for now the next field is to be played. It all gets muddled anyway, who is he kidding. Erland sighs and that lets Arnaghad’s gaze snap upwards, latching onto Erland’s. They silently glower at each other for a handful of breaths.

“Of course, you do,” Arnaghad says eventually. “Knowing you, you remember your exact words.”

“I do,” Erland says and the ghost of his own voice flashes through his mind.

My heart lies at the end of a dream, Arnaghad. And as long as that dream remains unfulfilled, I cannot give it to you.

“You lied.”

“I didn’t lie, I never lied,” Erland protests, but Arnaghad shakes his head.

“I don’t understand. You obviously felt something for me, feel something still. Oh, don’t give me that look, I told you I care. I always paid attention to you, you know that.”

Erland does. It pains him to admit it, but he does.

“I didn’t lie,” he repeats, hands balling into fists.

“You threw me scraps of affection when it would have cost you nothing to invite me to your table,” Arnaghad says.

“Do we really have to do this now? I told you I want you gone.”

“I saved your life.”

“UNBIDDEN,” Erland screams and his arm shoots out in an arc. It is only by Arnaghad’s quick reflexes that the Aard doesn’t have him fly into the back wall. Erland heaves, watching Arnaghad’s thick Quen dissolve with a buzzing static, and he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. After everything, he doesn’t want to hurt Arnaghad, of course he doesn’t.

“Why couldn’t you love me?” Arnaghad says, so fucking stubborn in his resolve to have this conversation. What a stupidly vulnerable question.

Back then, Erland bought in to the delusions he liked to paint for himself in blood and gore. He was destined for more, he was a noble knight, he was to rid the world of evil forevermore. Arnaghad didn’t fit in with that dream. He would try and keep Erland from it because he didn’t understand, had no ambitions for himself. And while that was, and likely still is true, it was never the reason Erland didn’t allow anything more than physical between them. But it was the reason he clung to and dangled before Arnaghad’s eyes over and over. After the night of the sundering… it didn’t matter so much anymore and Erland locked the true reason away in a dark corner of his heart, huddled together with the feelings he held hostage in the hopes they would fade to nothing.

Erland listens to his own heartbeat thump at his temples in a nagging ache and he forfeits his answer. Arnaghad doesn’t deserve forgiveness for what he did to Rhys and Erland and whomever else his sword cleaved, but he deserves the truth.

“You really want to know why?” he asks weakly, cringing inwardly at Arnaghad’s curt nod. Erland continues on a sigh, feeling fragile now that his anger evaporated with the sign he just cast. “I was afraid. I ruined my mother’s life by existing and I couldn’t spare Jagoda the experiments Alzur put us through and I never managed to make the humans see us as anything other than aberrations. I can slay monsters and teach others to do the same, but I can’t save the people I love.”

“That is horseshit, just complete and utter horseshit. Your mother was a right old cunt and nothing could have saved Jagoda. All the girls died, remember? Do you blame yourself for their deaths too?”

“My school,” Erland whispers, blinking rapidly to do away with those questions. “I loved them too and now they all lay buried under rubble. My brothers, my sons, my whole life. I loved them and I couldn’t save them. I’m a curse.”

“…why did you never say anything?” Arnaghad reaches out and his thick fingers brush Erland’s scraggly face. Erland stifles a dry sob. Some truths are better left unspoken and this was definitely one of them. He never dared to utter it to himself, in the quiet safety of his own mind, and now Arnaghad knows it. Arnaghad his ex-lover, used-to-be friend, nemesis for some years, phantom of his past for more, saviour of his life. Arnaghad who does, when it comes down to it, have a claim to his heart.

“Because you would have ridiculed me, as you itch to do now.”

“It is true that I was never good at understanding how other people feel,” Arnaghad says and his thumbs come to rests against Erland’s temples, smoothing out the ache there. He shuffles closer and their knees bump together which sends a jolt through Erland’s weakened frame. “But if you would have told me this, I would have found it impossible to demean you. I care, Erland, why won’t you believe that?”

Because you don’t care about anything other than your own survival.

Because it took five years for you to ever look at me twice and double the time for you to answer my frequent knocks on your door.

Because you attacked our brother and cut me and your eyes were filled with pure hatred.

Because you spent decades on your mountain, pretending like that was the only life you ever knew.

Because…

Erland grasps for more reasons, grasps for the steely indifference he felt for Arnaghad ever since the day he left Morgraig for Haern Caduch. He stops. No forgiveness, not yet. But perhaps, in the face of his grief and all that he lost, it would do well to cast his gaze into the future. Erland releases his tense muscles and lets go of something. After, his breath comes easier.

“You would have me believe that your care is rooted in love? Even after all this time?” he asks.

“Yes,” Arnaghad replies. So simple, huh?

“So maybe you love me. That doesn’t change the fact that I would have let you down.” Or Arnaghad him. Or maybe they were fated to let each other down.

“Look, birdie. I don’t know what it means to dream big, but I know this, and I know it for certain: you did what you could and because you’re a persistent shit, you did it exceptionally well. There are forces at work in this world one man alone cannot overcome. You did what you could.”

Erland doesn’t know what to say to that. Because that isn’t simple, that is insightful and attentive and not at all Arnaghad’s usual refrain. Maybe he did change and Erland is the only one who stagnated. He feels stupid, all of a sudden. Stupid for holding himself up to such high standards, stupid for being afraid in the face of his own bravery, stupid for ever calling himself honourable.

What man gives up on love because he assumes himself to be cursed? No knight. A coward.

“Could I have stopped you?” Erland asks. “If I had loved you, could I have stopped you from attacking Rhys and from waging your war on the rest of us witchers? Could I have changed the course of history?”

“You’re doing it again,” Arnaghad replies with a sly smile. He shakes his head and leans over his own legs to press a dry and warm kiss to Erland’s lips. In a way, it’s a homecoming. In a different one, it’s completely novel. Erland tilts his head for a second kiss that has his body thrum with wanting more, and Arnaghad allows it, for a bit. It’s another kind of warmth, that of their bodies re-learning one another and before long, Erland finds himself on Arnaghad’s lap, held close in a way he thought he’d never be held again. It isn’t forgiveness. It’s far from forgiveness. But it’s a start.

VI.

“Erland, there is something I have to tell you,” Arnaghad says long after they have spent the pent-up emotions of the last centuries in drawn-out kisses and frantic clashes of their body. They’re both tucked under the quilt and the bearskin, Erland’s beaten body sheltered in Arnaghad’s mountainous embrace. Erland gives a sated mumble, basking in the magic of the moment for just a heartbeat longer. Of course it couldn’t last, contentedness with Arnaghad is always the eye of the storm. “Listen to me,” Arnaghad continues and a sense of urgency replaces whatever fluttery feelings Erland just had. “I didn’t come to the Dragon Mountains to find you nor had I head of Kaer Seren’s fall. I came here for a reprieve from the storm. Have you seen it before you entered?”

“It will pass,” Erland says, unwilling to match Arnaghad’s frantic cadence. His chest is a warm rumble behind Erland, an upset sky. Damn Arnaghad and his terrible timing. “Winter is always brutal in these parts and the storms bite, but they pass.”

“It’s not winter, we are coming up on Belleteyn.”

Belleteyn… that means it’s almost May. Erland blinks stupidly before the implications sink in. Snow storms in May simply don’t happen.

“By the gods,” he breathes, and grips Arnaghad’s hand which is splayed over his own chest. His body tenses up and the cave feels stuffy now. “How long has the storm been going on for?”

“October,” Arnaghad says warily and that is so much worse than Erland expected. A harbinger of conflict Erland can deal with, an old love he can squabble over, but he is not at all equipped to handle an apocalypse. It has to be the end of the world because October is only a month after Erland entered the mountains and straight-out winter for close to eight months can only mean one thing:

“The White Frost.”

Arnaghad nods, cheek rubbing against Erland’s head. A branch in the fire bursts with a mighty crack right then, as though it is afraid too. The prophesised end of the world. Erland always assumed it was a tale to scare children and he doesn’t believe in foresight. There is no other explanation. Arnaghad’s other hand draws Erland closer and his steady mass of muscles help anchor Erland as the emotional storm resumes alongside the one that rages outside.

“I know this is a lot, but we don’t have much time. Is there anywhere we can go? You are weak still and these peaks will not protect us for long.”

“I… yes. There is a gulf that runs deeply under Kaer Seren, it carries heat out of the earth’s core and disperses some leagues out into the ocean. We have dug our cellars deep enough to tap it for the winter months… we might have food stores left too, but… I don’t know that there is a way in any longer and with a snow storm we might die trying.”

“Better to die trying than to die giving up,” Arnaghad says.

“If this truly is the White Frost, is there any chance of survival?” Erland asks closing his eyes. This is not how he wants to go out, not when he still has so much grieving and loving to do. Not when he just discovered that he can.

“I’ve never been through an apocalypse before, I couldn’t tell you. We got this far, though, so we might as well try.”

“Might as well,” Erland sighs, pulling on Arnghad’s fingers to bite the tip of one of them. The other witcher grunts indignantly. “But I’m not spending the rest of eternity stuck in a damp basement with you if you are going to keep wearing that bearskin. My nose may be clogged up with snot, but I can still smell it and it reeks. Did you piss on it?”

“I didn’t, but you might have with all the feverish thrashing and moaning you did.”

“Fuck off,” Erland snaps and they both laugh. It’s a glimpse of a relationship they barely scratched the surface of back then. If they survive now, they could learn its ins and outs yet.

And if Erland is anything, if he’s ever been anything, it is determined. He is determined to give his long life one last purpose. It’s a selfish purpose, lacking chivalry and heroism, but Arnaghad was right. He did what he could and now he can allow himself this, a shot at love in the middle of the apocalypse. Erland’s had more idealistic and futile dreams.

“What a horrible retirement Destiny has chosen for us,” he says.

“This isn’t worse than being dragged away by an ugly mage and suffering his experiments for years and years.”

“Speak for yourself, big bear, speak for yourself.”

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@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo , @littoraly-art

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romewritingshop · 4 years

Text

We could call it love

Fandom: Choices, Open Heart

Relationship: Doctor Ethan Ramsey X F!MC (Name: Doctor Kayla Jackson)

Warnings: Smut, fingering, alcohol drinking, semi-public sex, slightly drunk MC but she sobers up, biting

Word Count Total: 3561

A/N: It took me a while but I’ve managed to complete this fic. I guess you could call this a song fic as it includes lyrics. The song is Sacrifice by Black Atlass. An absolute sensual song that somehow works for Ethan and MC. Would love constructive feedback but that’s totally up to you. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. 😘 I’d definitely recommend listening to the song while reading the fic because it sets the mood. I tagged the ones who I thought would be interested but if not let me know, I just want to make some friends. 😊

SACRIFICE - BLACK ATLASS

CHOICES MASTERLIST

Tagged: @ohramsey @juliafranquet @me-and-my-choices @eleanorbloom @choicesficwriterscreations @kaavyaethanramsey @miss-smrxtiee @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @imonlybibecauseofethanramsey @drethanramslay @chaotichuman0090 @drakewalker04

The apartment was quiet, save for the low hum of the TV. Some Japanese game show was on but Kayla was paying no mind to it as her eyes zeroed in on the grainy wooden coffee table. Her spirit was in a world of its own as her hands blindingly scratched Pixie’s neck. Mack was happily munching on his lettuce beside her while Sunny was playing with a little ball between her paws. The pets were great company but they weren’t the best at communicating as Kayla exhaled shamefully, her head dropping to the back of the sofa. Her eyes closed as she recounted what happened in Ethan’s office.

“You’re an immature irresponsible resident that has turned the diagnostics team into a free flowing ATM. I hope you’re happy Dr. Jackson, you’ve gone against the principles of this team. I expected better from one of the best doctors.”

She flinched at the crystal clear sharp tone in his voice as she sunk further into her spiral of despair. She only reached out to Gwyneth to help with her condition and it was an extra bonus that she was willing to spend more money for her healthcare. A small fraction of her felt guilty at the fact that she went behind Ethan’s back but if she was presented with the choice she’d happily do it again.

The familiar rattle of the door handle rang as Kayla lifted her head to see Elijah and Sienna enter, having just finished their shifts at the hospital. She buried her pain and smiled widely at her friends.

“Hey guys! How was today?”

“It was pretty good but you seem to have had a harder day. What happened?”

Sienna’s soft eyes and nurturing smile made it harder for Kayla to hide the terrible things that happened today. Kayla’s face dropped as Sienna and Elijah made their way over to be beside Kayla as she opened up.

“Dr. Ramsey found out that I messaged Gwyneth to come to our hospital for treatment.”

Sienna and Elijah shared an anxious glance at Kayla’s despair. Both of them knew that Dr. Ramsey and Kayla had some semblance of a relationship so her depressed state was something much deeper as Sienna wrapped an arm around Kayla’s shoulder. Edenbrook was struggling from the budget cuts but Elijah knew that Kayla had a very good reason to go behind Dr. Ramsey’s back.

“Well, you did the right thing Kayla. You probably saved the diagnostics team.”

“I know it will but Dr. Ramsey doesn’t see it that way. He thinks that getting Gwyneth will pave the way for billionaires to get better care and soon the people that need help will be denied because they can’t afford it.”

“He’s wrong and we all know that this the only way to save the diagnostics team.”

“I know.”

The front door opens as Jackie strides through, sending a quick greeting to her friends before rushing into her room. Changing into her jeans and blue button shirt, coming back to the living room.

“Why aren’t you guys getting ready? Today Donnahue’s are doing a thirty percent discount for Edenbrook residents and doctors. The others are waiting for us there.”

Kayla wasn’t in the mood for a drink but deep down she had a feeling Ethan would be there. It was his usual haunt and she couldn’t face him after what he said to her. Sienna beamed as she stood up and nudged Kayla.

“Come on. A drink would you some good.”

“Sienna.”

“Nope! You’re coming with us or Jackie’ll drag you out.”

“And I will, Kayla.”

Kayla exhaled as she mumbled, groggily getting up and dragging her feet to her room. She stared into her closet, looking for something to wear. A knock rang on her door as she hummed, hearing steps come up beside her and she sees Sienna in a nice blue striped dress.

“What are you gonna wear Kayla?”

Kayla spotted something and pulled the hanger out to show Sienna. It was a plain blue sweater dress but Sienna shook her head vehemently. Kayla was not going to continue to wallow in her sadness as she yanked the dress and tossed it away to Kayla’s bed.

“Hey!”

“No! I’m not letting you dress up like that. Don’t let Dr. Ramsey get to you like that! Deep down, you know you’re right.” A small smile made a way to Kayla’s face as she couldn’t help but agree. It was the best decision she made and she doesn’t regret it one bit.

“I know.”

“Good! Now let’s wear something pretty and wreck the house tonight.” A bigger smile broke out on Kayla’s face as Sienna spotted the perfect outfit for Kayla. Stepping forward and pulling the hanger to show Kayla: a forest green satin wrap dress. It was perfect and sexy as Sienna brought out a black leather jacket and suede black ankle boots.

~~~~~~

There was a pep to her step as she entered the bar. Shaking off the cold outside air and she could see the bar bustling with residents and interns from Edenbrook. It was almost a full house as Kayla, Sienna, Elijah and Jackie brushed past people to get to their booth where Kyra, Rafael, Aurora and Bryce were sat, already having started with beer bottles in their hands. All eyes drew to Kayla as Bryce wolf whistled.

“Damn Kayla! You look like you’re ready to get laid.”

She rolled her eyes and sat next to Bryce, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“Next time, Bryce.”

Bryce smirked as he offered Kayla his drink, she took it and downed the rest as Jackie and Kyra bought a variety of drinks: shots of tequila and bottles of beer. Tonight, Kayla was going to forget and just lose control. After three shots of tequila, she could feel the light buzz coursing through her chest and all the knots of anxiety were slowly melting. Just as she was about to take her fourth shot, her eyes caught sight of a familiar green jacket and smooth back curly hair. The cloudy blue grey eyes and soft beard.

Ethan had entered the bar and it seemed his eyes were taken aback at seeing her. She looked exceptionally radiant and part of Ethan wanted to go over but he knew that he needed to keep away. She was a colleague and he still hasn’t forgiven her for what she did. He tore his eyes away and went to the bar to order his usual scotch. Kayla’s heart sagged as Ethan went away to the bar without even greeting her.

A chill vibrates through her as Kayla clutched her jacket closer as Bryce noticed the chill.

“Feeling cold?”

“A little.”

“I’m sure a little tequila will warm you up.”

She smiled and took another shot of tequila. The liquid courage lit a small fire as her eyes danced to the centre stage where two doctors drunkenly sang some cheesy eighties song. The tequila was meddling with her brain as she stood up and walked over to the karaoke stand.

The two doctors just finished up with their song as Kayla took centre stage, placing the mic in it’s holder stand and she scrolled through the songs list for karaoke. Her friends were too busy in their drinks when they heard a sultry tone rumble through the air. They frowned and turned towards the stage. Some of their eyes widened while others grew a big grin at the sight of Kayla standing tall and proud. Mic in her hand and a stool beside her.

Ethan felt a change in the music as his eyes were also drawn to the stage, his breath hitched in his throat as he spotted Kayla. No longer his intelligent colleague but a mystifying angel of lust. Her eyes connected with Ethan’s as her voice sang the first line.

I will never sacrifice my love, not even for you.

The tequila brought a husky tone that made her sound like a low hum of a jazz radio. Mellow and pleasing to the ears. Ethan furrowed his eyebrows with intrigue as Kayla set her gaze firmly on him. The bar patrons becoming a blur as she grasped the mic stand close to her.

You know I don’t play it safe

Sometimes you have to break the rules

Kayla was talking about what she did as Ethan straightened his posture. He never knew she could sing so well as Kayla raised an eyebrow at him. She knew he was watching her and the tequila in her soul was burning bright. Control was in her grasp as she let her fingers drag over her body, getting to the edge of her jacket and letting it slip off her shoulders.

Letting her satin emerald dress take the focus off her. All her friends were stunned from Kayla’s seductive display: Sienna and Aurora’s jaws dropped; Elijah had started recording this insane moment, and to show sober Kayla what happened; Kyra and Jackie cheering her on while Rafael and Bryce were entranced from her subtle movements.

Ethan felt the slight burn of anger murmur in him as he noticed every male gaze stick to Kayla but her eyes were on him. Part of him was jealous as he wanted to stride to the stage and take Kayla home, but another part of him was a little proud at her little display and that she was focused on him. He knew she had something to drink otherwise she wouldn’t have gone on stage and pulled that stunt off. She was baring everything to him and with that he sat rooted on his seat. Eyes taking in her hands over the sides of her hips.

He was still sat watching her, the glass of scotch in his deft hands and Kayla frowned slightly. Her act was getting nothing out of him.

We could call it love, or we could call it nothing

But you got what I want, you know I do, too

She was getting into the second chorus and her hips began swaying slowly like a metronome keeping in time with the steady beat of the song. He tensed slightly as Kayla let a smile reach her face as she finished the song off with a soft hum. The buzz of the tequila got absorbed into her mind as she straightened herself and bowed at the raucous applause.

The men jeered loudly and some women whooped. Kayla glanced at Ethan, his fingers were wrapped tightly around his glass and his gaze was a whispering chill over her body and soul. She sent a daring flirtatious wink at him before gliding towards her group of friends. Their voices clamoured over one another. Singing their praises and surprise at Kayla’s performance. She draped her jacket over the chair she sat in as she excused herself to head towards the restroom.

She was about to enter the ladies’ when a firm hand clasped her upper arm and yanked her in to a small dark room. Just as she was about to scream, the light came on and the grey eyed doctor was in front of her. Her heart pumped viciously as she leaned against the door of what seemed to be a supply closet. His presence surrounded her and she was surprised by the welcome chill that radiated from him. Ethan raised an eyebrow and suppressed a growl.

The dress looked even more silky and glowing as it sparkled against her dark skin. Her red ombre hair was done up in a braided bun which made her neck shine. Kayla looked like the radiant queen of an empire as she realised the gravity of where they were. Ethan had pulled her into a supply closet, just the two of him and the warmth of their bodies swirled in the air. He had risked someone seeing them as she stood tall against him.

“Ethan.”

“Jackson.”

“Still not calling me Rookie?”

“I’m still upset about what you did.”

“I’ve apologised many times and I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“Your performance said plenty.”

She shrugged a little at the slight gritted tone in his voice.

“Well I’ll say it one last time: I’m sorry I went behind your back and got Gwyneth to come to the hospital. If I were given the option, I’d do it again. It really was the only way to save Edenbrook.”

Unlike the previous apologies, this one had more vulnerability as Ethan peered deep into her brown eyes. He saw her fire and passion to help Edenbrook. This and her performance all accumulated to the fact that she was right. Despite the fact that it went against the principles of Naveen and the diagnostics team, it would be something Ethan would do. Something he already did as he signed a deal with Declan Nash to save Naveen.

Kayla did the exact same thing for a multitude of patients. He liked her determination to save people and his face softened. She was taken aback by the calmness in his eyes as his lips curled up to a neutral smile.

“I’m sorry, Kayla. You did the right thing. When all the other outcomes fail, sometimes the worst solutions can be the best. I’m glad you made the decision.”

Her cheeks warmed at his apology as she dropped her eyes down to his collar. Unable to look him in the eye as she mumbled.

“Thanks.” Ethan glanced down and scratched the back of his neck, the tense air now loose which left a slight serene calm in the air. Kayla furrowed her eyebrow and glanced back at the door. “Was that it or is there anything else?”

The performance. He wanted to tell her what he thought about her performance but it wasn’t right. She was a grown woman, who could do what she wanted. A woman that literally serenaded her desires to him in front of a bunch of resident doctors and her friends. He took a deep breath and opened up.

“Nothing else.”

“Wait! So you pulled me into a closet just to say you’re sorry.” He kept his mouth shut yet his silence was enough of an answer for her. “You know we could have had this conversation outside.”

“People might look a little deeper into our conversation.”

“Since when do you care about what people think?”

“I don’t but I know they’ll be surprised once I do this.”

He stepped closer to Kayla and leaned down to press his lips against hers. Letting his walls crumble down temporarily as his lips rubbed over hers, he could taste the tequila she had drank, it melted deliciously against the scotch he had. A low smell of cinnamon and grapefruit filled his nose as he breathed it in deeply. A perfume she often wore to work as it lifted from her, as the heat of the supply closet and their bodies caused her to slightly perspire.

It made her scent stand out more and he sunk deeper, pushing his tongue into hers to dance sensually. His eyes closed to let his senses elevate the tastes and scents of their bodies. Kayla felt her consciousness drift away as her hands came to rest on the sides of his waist. Her fingers pressed between the hem of the shirt feeling the soft cotton and his skin.

His fingers gently grasped her bare shoulders, his index looping under the thin strap of her wrap dress. Ethan pulled away as Kayla opened her eyes to finally look up at him. Desire and passion glowing in his eyes as her husky voice spoke.

“What does this mean?”

“You know, Rookie.”

His eyes spoke it all. The performance she put on and the decision she took, he was proud of her choices and a bigger grin took a hold of her face as she surged forward. One nimble hand curling the hair at the nape of his neck, the other sinking under his shirt to feel at his tender skin. Pulling him closer to trap her against the closet door and Ethan welcomed her initiative.

His left hand following the fold of her wrap dress, his fingers danced dangerously along the satin green and smooth skin. She let go as he hummed slowly.

“Can I carry on, Kayla?”

“Please, Ethan.”

Their lips reconnected as Ethan’s fingers dipped inside her dress, a deep groan tumbled out of his mouth as he felt her bare breasts pliable against his fingers. She arched further into his hand as her hand sunk under her shirt to feel the firm muscles and the thin trail of hair disappearing into his jeans.

“Kayla!”

“Ethan! I need you now!”

They didn’t have much time as the fear of someone discovering them loomed over the atmosphere. Ethan pressed his fingers down and dragged over her sternum, his fingers grazing against the soft fabric of her dress before disappearing under the hem of the dress. She let go and gasped at his strong fingers rubbing against her clit. A moan threatening to break out as she hissed.

“Stop teasing Ethan!”

A mischievous smirk curled on his lips as he yanked her underwear down, his fingers feeling the sticky wetness between the lips of her vagina.

“And what you were doing wasn’t teasing?”

He took his fingers away and pushed it in between his teeth, his tongue lapping at the sweet tanginess of her arousal. Kayla felt like she could die happy, Ethan moved her to press her cheek against the door. The metal of his belt opened and the flyer zipped down. Her breath hitched as she felt penis stroke over her thighs.

A slightly louder moan escaped her lips as Ethan brought the fingers he sucked on into her mouth. In the times they had slept together, he noticed she was a loud lover and despite him wanting to melt against her moans and grunts, he had to keep it quiet in order to avoid suspicion. Ethan sunk into her as he growled into her neck, she hummed into his fingers.

A delightful stretch through her core as his long cock pushed into her walls, her feet curled and her hands pressed on the door to ground herself. It had been a while since they were together as Ethan regretted pushing her away, trying to make up for it with his actions. He set a slow pace to state his stance with her. His right hand trailed up her body to lace with her fingers.

A familiar dance as Ethan rolled his hips to a gradual speed, rising and rising, harder and slightly faster. Their symphony of pleasure muffled into their bodies. Her saliva soaked his fingers as he brushed them down the dress and to her clitoris. Pulling, pinching and circling her erogenous zone. He unlaced his fingers to grasp her chin and bring it over her right shoulder.

Reconnecting his mouth to hers to absorb the sounds she was making, Ethan slowed his movements, opting to thrust deeper and faster which had her whine pathetically. A new sound that she’s made as Ethan couldn’t help but smirk at his prowess. One powerful thrust made Kayla fist the door and it tossed her over the edge as she stilled. Two slow thrusts later Ethan came as well as he pulled his lips away and sunk his teeth into her shoulder. The both of them twitched with pleasure as the tepid atmosphere came down to a cool breeze.

He unlatched his teeth from her shoulder to see a perfect circle of the indents his teeth made as he pressed and open mouthed kiss on it before pressing a short sweet kiss on Kayla’s lips as a soothing gesture. Slowly pulling his cock out of her, a bit of his semen ran down her legs as he carefully tucked himself back into his underwear, zipping up and putting the belt back on. There was a roll of tissue on a shelf as he quickly grabbed a few sheets and carefully cleaned Kayla up.

A dazed look glimmered in her face as she slowly turned around to rest her back on the wall, adoringly gazing at Ethan who had bent down to help her into her underwear, he glanced up with a soft smile. She balanced herself on his shoulders and stepped into the underwear, Ethan’s fingers grazing her legs as he stood up to secure her underwear in place. Pulling the hem of her dress down and fixing the collar of the dress. The both of them were semi presentable as Kayla wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling him close to breathe in his scent.

“I guess that means you liked my solo.”

“What gave it away, Rookie?” She said nothing but pressed a small kiss to his lips, whispering a small thanks to him. “Again, I’m sorry I was hard on you about Gwyneth.”

“And I’m sorry I went behind your back. From now on, we discuss my ill ideas.”

“Agreed.”

As much as the both of them wanted to stay in one another’s’ arms, they knew that the real world was waiting for them. Where they couldn’t be together like they were now. Ethan reluctantly stepped away and cleared his throat.

“You better go first. I’ll come out in a bit.”

“See you tomorrow, Ethan.”

“Rookie.”

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

Castaway (l.h)

Summary: In which Luke is left broken and untethered from a toxic relationship and Michael’s younger sister visits bringing her own light into his darkness.

Warnings: toxic relationship tendencies (fighting, throwing things), panic attack, smut, some swearing and I think that’s all

Word Count: 16.9K

author’s note: I’m so excited to finally share this with you! I started this fic about like 6 months ago and I finally finished it! I hope you enjoy it and feedback is always welcome❤

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

• • • •

Growing up it was undeniable the infatuation Michael’s younger sister Emmeline (Emmy) had for one of his best friends, Luke Hemmings. She was shy on principle but when Luke was around it increased by tenfold. She stammered a lot and blushed like crazy, which resulted in Michael teasing her about it in secret but never in front of his friends, even though they knew.

Emmy was sweet, innocent and so short compared to the four of them they graced her with the nickname of Pipsqueak, or Pip for short. When the band left to tour for the first time, Emmy missed her brother like crazy. Being so close to Michael for so long and watching him be halfway across the world was hard.

Both of them had grown up without the other, and it took a toll on Michael as well as Emmy because he adored his little sister and facetimed as much as he could or called her on the phone. He’d relay the boys’ greetings to her until all three of them appeared in the shot acting like the goofballs that they were.

Emmy tried to keep her gaze on all of them but she always ended up staring at Luke. More often than not he’d be staring at her as well, his crystal blue eyes zeroed in on her until Calum did something completely ridiculous thus snapping Luke out of his trance. She loved seeing the ghost of his infectious smile appear, and she adored his shyness because she related to it. And then she’d be right back laughing with her brother and his best friends while they did wacky stuff to make her smile.

When the band went on their hiatus, they still didn’t come home so Emmy flew out to them after Michael informed her they’d been writing again. She’d finished school and pursued a job in childcare.

It’s been almost three years since they went in the shadows but Michael promised something was in the works. At the end of the summer she’d be joining them to Bali as well which she was really excited about.

Walking through the terminal she looked around for a sign of her brother’s artfully colored hair over the crowd of average height people and she spotted him.

“Mikey!” she squeals running steadfast to her brother.

“Ems!” he shouts in the same demeanor, his arms open wide and she lunges into them. He lifts her up, her feet dangling in the air as the siblings hug after so long.

“You changed your hair,” they say at the same time when he released her then they laughed.

He went back to his natural blonde and she dyed hers a pretty dark brown.

“I like it, dark suits you,” he comments picking up a strand in between his fingers.

“Thanks,” she smiles then glances around. “Where’s Crystal?”

“Cleaning,” he chuckles, “she wanted the house to be perfect for you when you arrived. I told her it’s just you but she wouldn’t listen.”

Emmy pouts, she hates when people go over the top for her, it’s not necessary and completely not worth the trouble.

“She didn’t—“

“I know,” Michael closes his eyes sighing. “Come on, people are beginning to notice me.”

“My brother the rock star,” Emmy smiles proudly but follows him as he takes her bags. The rest will be delivered to his house, she’s staying with him and Crystal for the summer and traveling to Bali with them and the boys.

“Other rock stars are excited to see you, too,” Michael mentions once they’re buckled in his car.

“I’m excited to see them, too,” Emmy smiles shaking her leg as if to showcase her anticipation. One in particular.

“If Luke seems a bit . . . standoffish, it’s not you. All right?”

“Because of what happened with . . . her?” Emmy makes a face.

Michael puffs his cheeks and blows the air out in exasperation. “Yeah. He’s been staying with Ashton. He’s still trying to bounce back to himself. Don’t say anything.”

“You know I won’t.”

“I know, you’re a good egg,” he reaches over and pinches her cheek, “Pipsqueak.”

•••••

Crystal is hugging Emmy before she’s even halfway through the door, Michael shuffling past two of his favorite people to bring in the luggage. Crystal is gushing over Emmy’s hair and telling her about the new sheets she got for her room because ‘you aren’t just a guest so it should be your room.’

“I’m so glad you’re here, the guys are coming over for a little welcome party for you. So if you need to take a nap or shower, please do, okay?”

“Okay, thanks Crys,” Emmy finally gets a few words in. She loves Crystal’s bubbly personality and it makes her a little more extroverted.

After her nap, Emmy heads downstairs and into the kitchen where she hears all the voices. When she enters, Ashton shouts “Pipsqueak!” and she’s bombarded with two tall men hugging and ruffling her hair.

“You haven’t grown at all, Pip,” Calum grins patting her head.

“Shut up,” she grumbles nudging his hand away but she’s laughing along with them. “You guys just have a weird genome make-up.”

“All right fancy pants,” Ashton chuckles. “Want a drink? We’re going out for the best steak in your honor but we need a drink beforehand.”

“Is that so?” she raises her eyebrows but follows them. She notices Luke standing off in the corner, his own mixed drink in his hand. Emmy falters when she sees him.

It’s been about 3 years and he’s grown. In many senses of the word. For one, he’s the tallest of the guys, even slouched over, his hair is a bit longer with hints of curls on the ends and he’s got a nice amount of facial hair. He’s still devastatingly handsome but Emmy can see the toll the breakup has had on him.

His eyes are bloodshot with dark circles underneath them, his cheeks are a little sunken in and his whole body language is screaming ‘despair.’ Emmy’s always been able to read the emotions off of others and it broke her heart to see Luke in this state. It made her uneasy but remembered what her brother said and forced herself not to draw attention to him but she gave him a small smile.

So instead, she pulled her attention back to Calum and Ashton who were fighting over what kind of drink Emmy would want.

“If you guys came home for my legal birthday you’d know I love Malibu and pineapple juice,” she teases.

Calum and Ashton look at each other then nod. “We’re ignoring that jab, Pip,” Ashton says, “but I’ll make that drink.”

From the corner of her eye, Luke’s watching the whole scene before him. She’s not hurt in the slightest from his lack of interaction, she can understand where he’s coming from. When he’s ready, he’ll make his presence known.

Hopefully.

After their cocktails are finished they head out to the restaurant. Luke somehow has a hat and sunglasses on as they enter the building. Clearly he doesn’t want his photo taken but the paparazzi are around and will take snapshots of what they want.

Emmy expected this, she prepared herself for the moment when the time came. But prepping your mind and actually experiencing it are two very, very different things. Instinctively, she went to Michael who tucked her under his arm immediately ushering her and Crystal past the photographers.

“I’d say you get used to it, but you really don’t,” Michael sighs.

“It’s fine,” Emmy shakes her head. But inside she was having a slight panic attack. How did they do this day after day? People calling your name and shoving a camera in your face?

Luke removed his hat and sunglasses following the group to the table in the private room upstairs. He hasn’t seen Emmy in a long time, but she’s still cute and tiny as ever. He wanted to say hi, he really did. He wanted to give her a hug and call her by the nickname they created for her, he really did.

But his wounds are still bleeding fresh and he doesn’t want to drop his toxicity on her who has always been her own little ball of light. He listened to the conversation, hummed or did a half smile at all the right parts. But lyrics and piano notes filled his head. He was itching to write but whatever he wrote always came out as garbage.

When dinner was over, they exited the restaurant but the photographers increased with some fans screaming. They all huddled together, with Luke bringing up the caboose and also right behind Emmy. He towered over her, and it’s because of that he noticed she was about to fall when he steadied her back on her feet. Some fans would do anything for a picture.

“Keep walking, Pip,” he told her still holding onto her waist to make sure she didn’t almost fall again.

Her head snapped to the side when the nickname slipped from his lips. She smiles up at him and without even thinking, Luke smiled back. Not a half smile but an actual smile. His long fingers hung lightly on her waist as he ushered her towards the car. He didn’t let go until she was safely in her seat, she flashes him another smile.

For the whole ride back to her brother’s house, Emmy’s skin still burned where Luke’s hands grabbed onto her. She’d thought after all these years, of her growing up, her crush on Luke had disappeared. But then he smiled at her and she was right back to where she started.

•••••

Luke has been in sort of a hazy daze since his horrendous break-up, he couldn’t sleep at his home so he crashed at Ashton’s a lot. Ashton kept him in check by watching his alcohol consumption and amount of weed he smoked, making sure it was kept at a minimal rather than a mess he did not want to clean up.

Ashton offered words of advice and encouragement but the youngest brother of his was like a shell, empty and void of color. When he looked at Luke, he paled in comparison to who he truly was. His exuberant color faded as soon as things began to go bad with Lea, they didn’t even get to be bad because it went straight to worse.

When they’d go out on the town it always ended with her stalking off with attitude and Luke would be his sweetest self, trying to figure out what was wrong. Then she’d get mad that he didn’t already know and they’d fight all the way back to his home, making the car ride extremely uncomfortable for the driver.

Then it went from worse to catastrophic at the snap of a finger, and it was at the fingers of Lea. She spit harsh words at him, degrading words, words that told him he was of no value and she finished her tirade with knocking over a potted plant and throwing a vase full of (now dead) flowers against the wall.

She threatened to leave him, and at that point Luke had no idea what the hell to do anymore so he let her. That caused another infamous Lea scene as she threw her things into a suitcase all while cursing his name and their relationship as she did so. Before she left in a tornado of cruelty, she yanked the chain around her neck that held Luke’s favorite ring he gave her and chucked it at him.

It hit his chest lightly, falling intricately and ironically into a figure eight at his feet. The door slammed and she was gone. And Luke was hollow.

It was nearing midnight when Ashton’s phone rang, Calum was over and they exchanged a look of worry when Luke’s face appeared on the screen. They knew it was something bad.

“Luke--?” Ashton answered right away but stopped when he tried to listen to his dear friend utterly breaking down. He could only get out a few choice words: left . . . Lea . . . gone . . . forever . . . necklace . . . fucking crazy . . .

Ashton did his best to soothe him over the phone all while motioning for Cal to call Michael and he picked up his keys.

He told Luke to breathe. He told Luke to count to ten and try breathing again. He told Luke he and Calum and Michael were on their way. He told Luke to hold on.

It was a disaster zone when they arrived. The big ugly potted plant (that Lea insisted on buying) was turned over on the floor, dirt spread everywhere. Broken glass scattered the floor as well, along with water and dead flowers and Luke was in the midst of destruction with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands.

“Shit,” Ashton hissed running to him immediately. Calum called Michael again this time in a panic, his eyes wide at one of his best friends, his brother, coming completely unraveled in Ashton’s arms.

“Luke, Luke, listen to me, you can’t stay on the floor,” Ashton said trying to pry his fingers from his face. “Let��s go outside, yeah? You need fresh air.”

After some more coaxing, Luke finally heaved himself off the floor with the help of Ashton just as Michael came through the door. His eyes widened at what he saw, Ashton nodded to the mess then to them before ushering Luke out in the back. His hold on the younger boy’s shoulders were strong and present, ready and able to catch him if he fell.

Calum and Michael got to work right away cleaning up the mess Lea left behind. Michael picked up the necklace setting it on the countertop. They knew the mess was more than broken glass and spilled dirt, the mess was inside Luke because she worked her way in his psyche. The mess was far from being treated.

•••••

Luke had completely forgotten that Emmy would be coming to stay with Michael and Crystal, but he forgets things easily these days. He’s still in a fog but at least he’s not getting drunk and high every night now.

He made sure to watch his intake and stayed clear of weed, which the boys also cleared their stash because Luke was far more important than a momentary buzz. So when he arrived at Michael’s he was confused as to why they hadn’t left yet.

“Emmy’s still napping from her flight,” Crystal explained taking a sip from her pink wine.

As Luke’s face remained a state of confusion, four pairs of eyes stared at him helplessly.

“Remember, Ems is staying with us for the summer?” Michael asks slowly.

Not wanting to look like he was still shattered, Luke acted like he remembered.

“Oh, right I knew that. Forgot she got in today, that’s all,” he shrugged.

The relaxed exhale from them all eased him a bit, but he still felt like an idiot so he poured himself a glass of whatever was in front of him.

He shuffled to the corner, which has become his safe place lately. He’s still present with his company but he doesn’t have to keep talking and he’s thankful they gave him the space he needed. He didn’t really want to go out tonight, he wanted to go back home and sleep.

“Pipsqueak!” Ashton shouts very loudly it almost caused Luke to drop his glass.

When he looked up he saw Ashton and Calum hugging Emmy, he couldn’t see her though, Ash and Cal were like walls blocking his view. When they finally released her, Luke couldn’t help but stare.

The sweet girl he’d known growing up wasn’t present anymore. She was still tiny so her nickname they came up with still fit. Instead of her light blond hair like Michael’s, he was looking at a dark brunette and it really brought out her eyes which were a striking deep blue.

While Ashton chattered about what type of drink she’d like, Luke kept his eyes on them and Emmy kept glancing his way. He sucked in a breath ready to say a hello but she never brought him into the group.

At first he was hurt, was he really not that important for her to acknowledge him? Then when he caught her eye again she gave him a kind smile that was missed by everyone else but him. He exhaled gratefully, that greeting was enough.

When they were leaving the restaurant Luke cursed to himself in his head at the photographers that seemed to multiply, along with some fans. He ended up in the back by Emmy and he towered over her completely. Was she always that small? Luke couldn’t remember.

But his height came in handy sometimes, like now when he noticed her stumble slightly in front of him and before she fell on her face he reached out to prevent it.

“Keep walking, Pip,” the words slipped out of his mouth without missing a beat. She turned to look up at him and smiled which he also returned very easily. Her body was warm as he guided her a bit more quickly to the car.

When he helped her climb in, she shot him another smile but he didn’t reciprocate that one. He’d smiled twice that day, and each time was due to Emmy. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

•••••

On the third day of Emmy being with her brother, she decided to make lemon poppy seed muffins, but with real lemons. Both Michael and Crystal took their respective cars to do whatever they had to do so she couldn’t drive to the store and get fresh lemons. Then she remembered Ashton had a lemon tree in his backyard.

When she texted him asking if she could use some, he told her absolutely but he was out shopping with Cal and told her Luke would be home so she could go right over. Emmy chewed on her bottom lip, she didn’t want to bother Luke but her need to have lemon poppy seed muffins was greater.

It took her nearly twenty minutes to walk to his house but it was a nice day so she didn’t mind too much. With a deep breath she knocked on the door and hit the doorbell. If he didn’t answer in the next twenty seconds, she’d call it quits and head back to her brother’s. When she counted to eight the door opened and revealed Luke still looking a little disheveled like last night.

Dark circles were still present under his eyes, and he just looked exhausted. He was wearing a white t-shirt and faded skinny jeans.

“Uh, hi!” Emmy greets her voice a little high. “Um, I’m making lemon poppy seed muffins but I don’t have a car or lemons and Ashton said I could take some from his tree and he said you were home. So . . .”

She said everything in such a rush Luke stares at her in confusion until her explanation marinates in his brain. She needed lemons.

“Yeah, all right.” He mumbles opening the door wider and lifting his arm up higher. “It’s in the back.”

She pauses for a moment waiting for him to move out of the way, when he doesn’t she ducks under his arm (though she could have easily walked normally because he was that tall) and enters the house. Emmy glances around at her surroundings before seeing a sliding door to the backyard.

The tree was a bit taller than her and it had a lot of lemons much to her excitement. She took care in picking the perfect ones, she needed six, then looked up at Luke as he shuffles in the opening.

“Do you have a plastic bag I can put these in?” she asks.

He nods silently then disappears back in the house. Emmy sighs feeling a little jaded at his silence but she reminds herself to give him space. She went through something similar with her most recent ex. Time does heal all wounds, it’s just annoying when you don’t know how much time exactly it will take.

When Luke returns she smiles a thank you and pours her gathering into the plastic. She loops the handles through her fingers stepping back into the house.

“Did you walk here?” he asks from behind. Emmy spins around to face him, his brows are pulled together.

“Yeah, it’s only a twenty minute walk,” she shrugs continuing her path to the front door.

“Hang on, I’ll drive you. My car’s out front.”

“Oh, no. Luke, you don’t have to—“

He already snatched his keys and brisked past her out the front door.

“All right, then,” she sighs following him. She makes sure to lock the door so no robbers come to Ashton’s house. She slides into Luke’s sleek black car and buckles herself in.

She doesn’t notice Luke smirk at that, it’s a ten minute drive did she really think they’d hit something? He doesn’t say anything and drives to Michael’s house.

He pulls into the driveway not bothering to put it in park.

“Thank you,” she says then stops when she’s halfway out. She looks back at him and asks, “Do you want to help me make them?”

“You’re—what?” he had his automatic response to say ‘you’re welcome’ ready but her question caught him off guard.

“Muffins,” she lifts the bag, “want to help me?”

He stares at her with his mouth open. She wanted him to stay and help make muffins? Why would she want him to help?

Why did he put the car in park and get out following the short girl inside?

She rolls the lemons out of the bag, catching the ones that were a bit more dangerous of rolling off the counter then she began prattling of directions for him to do. Luke had no idea why he listened, he had no idea how to make muffins from scratch. He sighs doing what she says, it’s better than being alone doing nothing.

“The glaze is the best part,” she says while she’s pouring the batter into the colorful muffin cups. “It’ll taste even better since we used real lemon. Did you know poppy seeds come up on urine tests as drugs?” she giggles at her little known fact and Luke smiles at her.

“I eat so many of these that I’d probably look like I’m on a constant high,” she continues as if his smile was enough of a response. Luke appreciates that.

When the pans are full she places them on the racks and Luke catches himself staring at her ass as she bends over, her jean shorts fit her perfectly. He averts his gaze back to the glaze he was mixing.

What the hell was that? Did he really just check out Emmy’s ass?

“Do you want some tea? We can sit outside while we wait for them to be done,” she says already pulling the pitcher from the fridge.

Luke clears his throat, “sure.”

He follows her outside to the patio, the pool water glistening in the LA sun and she sits on one of the chairs around the small bonfire pit. He sits in the one next to her and take a big gulp from his iced tea. It was perfectly sweet.

“I made that this morning, I hope it taste okay,” she says.

“’ts perfect,” he comments running his thumb over the condensation that’s already formed.

They sit in a comfortable silence but he can feel her gaze on him the whole time. Normally he would snap at anyone who would stare but he didn’t feel the need to. He knew she was analyzing him. She’s been that way since she was little but he didn’t want to talk about him or his feelings.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Hm?” he hums still looking at the droplets on his glass.

“You don’t have to now, or ever, but if you ever do want to talk I’m a good listener. I’ve gone through the same thing.”

He looks up at her in surprise, eyebrows raised.

“Just wanted you to know,” she smiles shyly then takes a sip of her tea before looking back at the pool.

They sit in a comfortable silence sipping their iced tea until the alarm on her phone goes off signifying the muffins being done.

“Come on,” she says lightly. To his surprise she grabs his hand in hers towing him inside to the kitchen.

She made it seem like the easiest thing in the world, grabbing his hand and Luke couldn’t deny that he really, really liked it. Despite her being so much smaller than him, her hand fit in his perfectly. To his dismay she let go as soon as she picked up the oven mitts and opened the oven.

He felt the heat engulf the air surrounding them, she sighs happily as she sets the first tray of muffins down.

“They’re perfectly brown,” she gushes, her big blue eyes staring up at him happily before going to get the other pans.

Once all the trays were laid out, she carefully tipped them over letting the muffins tumble out onto the counter. Without her telling him Luke began facing them right side up.

“Careful,” she murmurs without a second thought.

Luke glances at her, it seemed so easy for her to be concerned about him. To have his best interests at heart; first with what she said out by the pool and now telling him not to burn himself on the muffins. Two vastly different things, but still. It filled Luke with a warmth he hasn’t experienced in a long time.

“Okay!” she claps her hands once the mitts are off. “You can put the glaze on.”

“Me?” he asks watching her clean up the pans in the sink, the cool water hisses as it touches the hot pans.

“Yeah, you made the glaze, you can put it on.”

“I don’t want to do it wrong,” he furrows his eyebrows.

“There’s no wrong way to do it,” she giggles grabbing the bowl of lemon glaze and a spoon. “You can drizzle, you can plop as much as you want on it, you can even make . . .” she took the spoon scraping the gooey goodness onto it then dabs two circles and a smile beneath them. “A smiley face. Here.”

She hands him the muffin she decorated and Luke smiled back at the happy muffin.

“He’s cute,” Luke chuckles softly picking up the spoon and getting to work.

They continue to work in silence, him decorating (he made muffins look like the guys and was working particularly hard on one) while she continued to clean the kitchen of their baking mess.

“Finished?” she asks.

“Don’t look yet,” he turns his back blocking her view from his masterpiece.

“What are you doing to that muffin?” she laughs trying to sneak a peek. “Don’t be naughty!”

“I’m not being naughty, Pip,” he chuckles. “It has to be perfect, look at the other ones. Guess which one’s your brother.”

She scans the other muffins then giggles when she notices one with ‘hair’ covering it’s eyeballs. It was actually quite good for only using glaze.

“Okay, finished.” He spins around holding the muffin in his palm.

Emmy steps a little closer peering at the muffin. He seemed to have taken the most time with this one. The eyes are big, the mouth looks pretty and he drizzled the sides so it looked like hair.

“Is that . . . supposed to be me?” she mumbles looking up at him.

His eyes soften when they make eye contact and he bites his bottom lip before nodding. “Yeah. Do you like it?”

She smiles slowly, glancing back at the muffin and the way he’s holding it so it wouldn’t fall on the floor.

“I love it, looks just like me,” she giggles again.

He sets it down on the counter gingerly, leaning his hand on the counter as he leans closer to her. His blond hair falls in front of his eyes.

“Thanks for all of this,” he says gently.

“For making muffins?”

“No, well, yes but for not pushing for answers or explanations or asking how I’m feeling. It’s nice not being looked at like a china doll.”

She stares up at him in shock, that’s the most he’s said to her since she got here a few days ago. She’s noticed how deep his voice is, how sultry it sounds and how it makes her knees weak.

“You’re welcome, Luke,” she rests her hand on top of his. “Believe me when I say that I know exactly what you’re going through. Trust me.”

He frowns at that, how could someone who radiates light and happiness know what it’s like to deal with the aftermath of a toxic relationship and a nuclear break up? How could someone have done that to her?

“You do?”

“Yeah, and it does get better. No one else can fix it but you, and it takes time.”

“Who hurt you? Mike never said—“

“Michael never knew,” she shakes her head. “It all happened while you were touring. I couldn’t bother him with it, there was nothing he could have done anyway. And now it’s over and I’m better and it’s done with,” she shrugs.

“What happened?”

She opens her mouth to reply when the front door bangs open and Michael’s already chattering away.

“I smell food! Delicious food!” he exclaims entering the kitchen.

Luke and Emmy break away from each other instantly, Luke’s hand already feels cold without hers on top of his. Instead he uses it to rub the back of his neck.

“What did you—oh. Luke! What’re you doing here?” Michael smiles excitedly upon seeing his best friend while Emmy giggles at her brother’s antics.

“He helped me make muffins from Ashton’s lemon tree,” she explains.

Michael glances between Luke, the muffins and Emmy, then repeats the action twice more before shaking his head in disbelief.

“Wow, that’s great. Are you sure Ashton said you could use his lemons?” he peers closer at the muffins taking a whiff of the lemony scent.

“Yes, I called him.”

“Why didn’t you go to the store?”

“Hm, maybe because I don’t have a car? Duh.”

“Okay sassy pants,” Michael laughs, “you could have called an Uber.”

“That’s just stupid. I’d pay for the car then I’d have to pay for the lemons and pay again for a ride home? Ashton’s was closer. And free,” she grins triumphantly and Luke smiles.

Her logic was pretty spot on.

Michael stares at Luke for a moment, he hasn’t seen him smile—a genuine smile—in who knows how long. “Fair point. I’ll rent a car for you to drive while you’re here.”

“I can drive her,” Luke suggests with a slight shrug.

Both Clifford’s turn their attention to the quiet blond. Emmy’s eyes are glowing and Michael is staring at him like he’s got two heads and a unicorn horn.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah, really? You don’t have to, Luke, you’re not her chauffer,” Michael shakes his head. What the hell is going on with him?

“I don’t mind. It’ll give me something to do, it’s no big deal,” he shrugs again then looks between both siblings. “Really.”

“Thanks Luke,” Emmy smiles.

•••••

Emmy: hey muffin man, want to get some fro-yo? Mike and crys don’t want to L

Luke: it’s like 10 at night, aren’t they closed?

Emmy: all but one ;) I’ll send you the address. Pretty please?!

Luke: all right lol I’ll be there in 5

Emmy: thanks muffin man, you’re the best

Ashton peeks his head out of his drum room, his headphones hung around his neck. He heard Luke exit his room and jingle his keys.

“Where are you going?” Ashton asks trying not to sound surprised.

“Fro-yo,” Luke says simply.

“By yourself?”

“No, I’m going to pick up Emmy.” He fits his snapback on his head then turns to Ashton as if waiting for him to stop him.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun, mate,” Ashton smiles but inside he’s screaming in excitement. Luke nods his goodbye then leaves through the garage. Ashton immediately calls Calum to tell him the news.

It’s been so long since Luke has wanted to go out and actually do something since what happened with Lea. Yes, it was eleven months ago but he was still hurting. They could all feel it, and now, with Emmy being here for only a week, she’s got him making muffins and going to get fro-yo at ten thirty at night.

•••••

Luke couldn’t help but glance at Emmy while he drove down the street, she looked undeniably cute in her pair of black leggings and long sleeved shirt. She took her flip flops off and sat cross legged on her seat because she’s small and she can.

He had a permanent smile on his face listening to her rant and rave about this 24 hour frozen yogurt place called Moon-Glo that she found on Google. She was reading off all the flavors they had for the night and he could already tell which ones she was going to get.

He had the worst desire to reach over, take her hand and kiss her knuckles while he drove. He shook his head trying to clear the thought but ever since they made muffins a few days ago, he’s been thinking of her nonstop.

Thinking of her also made him think of the guy who put her through a bad break up. He wanted to know what happened, how she dealt with it and how that guy could possibly let someone like Emmy go.

“Hey, you over there,” she says.

He feels her finger scratch at his elbow gently to get his attention and he looks over.

“Hm?” he hums.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Um . . .” he heaves a big sigh turning into the parking lot of the yogurt shop. He puts the car in park but keeps it running. “What happened, with your last relationship?”

He chews on the inside of his lip, gripping the steering wheel waiting for a response. When he hears her sigh he risks looking her way. He was expecting her to be angry but her lips were pursed, which he couldn’t help but find adorable even under his heavy question.

“Let’s get our yogurt first.”

“Right,” he mutters shutting off his car.

When they enter the small shop it’s designed to look like the moon. Craters are painted on the floor, walls and the ceiling. Little astronaut men stand on the tables and neon lights are displayed above the yogurt machines, making the flavors appear to glow in the dark.

“This is so cool!” Emmy gasps then takes Luke’s wrist dragging him to the counter that has the little testing cups. Taking a risk, he twists his hand in her grasp so he can grab onto her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He finds a small victory that she doesn’t yank away. “Let’s try them all.”

They held hands while they sampled the flavors, except the peanut ones, and Luke was over the moon (pun intended). She decided on a black cherry with vanilla, and added fruit and caramel and little gummi bears. She topped it off with a cherry.

Luke went for chocolate and added Oreo crumbles with coconut shavings. He paid for her and he noticed her cheeks turn rosy. He had to stop himself from bending down and kissing them.

“You want to eat in here?” he asks grabbing two spoons, they’re silver with a moon on the end of the handle.

“Let’s go in your car,” she shook her head then turned to the cashier and smiled radiantly. “Thank you, have a good night.”

“Uh, you too.”

Luke nodded to the cashier then held the door open for Emmy. There was a slight breeze as they walked to his car and slid in. He turned it on so that his playlist could be heard softly in the background.

“Mm,” she hums as she take the first few spoonfuls. “This is my new favorite place. Wow. Okay. So you want to know about Mason?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he assures spooning his own treat. “That’s his name? Mason?”

“Yep. We broke up two years ago. I didn’t realize how bad of a relationship it was until it was over. He talked to this girl constantly that I never had a good feeling about, he’d make plans without telling me and I’d go along with them. He’d ignore me when we were with his friends. Then he wanted to be on a break because I became too clingy apparently.

“Then he broke up with me over text and the next day he was in a relationship with the girl he was talking to. Then they both harassed me and I was . . . I was in a bad place. I didn’t eat. I wasn’t sleeping. I listened to sad music all the time and I was just . . . not okay. It was hard. I cried constantly and I never interacted with my friends anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Emmy,” Luke says softly. He shifts in his seat to face her properly. “He’s an idiot for letting you go like that. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

“Thank you, and it’s okay,” she shrugs taking another spoonful. “I don’t know how I did it but somehow I pulled myself out of the hole I let myself fall into. Talking to you guys on Facetime really helped, even though I had to fake it most of the time.”

Luke thinks back to the times they’d walk in on Michael speaking with her on the phone. They’d act like complete idiots but Emmy would laugh all the same.

All that time she was heartbroken? And none of them noticed?

“I should’ve—we should’ve noticed you weren’t yourself. I’m sorry, lovie, we could have helped—“

“You did. Just by being your goofy selves and making fun of Mikey made me feel better. You guys made me laugh when I thought I couldn’t.”

She doesn’t comment on the term of endearment that slipped out and he didn’t bring attention to it either. But God, did it feel good to call her that. It felt so natural.

“Honestly, Luke don’t worry about it. I’m better now, I promise.”

“You handle yourself a lot better than I do,” he grimaces swirling his contents in his bowl. “After what happened with Lea, I drank and smoked every day. From whenever I woke up to whenever I went to sleep. That’s why I’m at Ashton’s house a lot, he’s kept me in check.”

“We all handle our hurts differently,” her finger close around his wrist.

Luke tenses slightly at the unexpected touch then relaxes when she rubs circles into his skin.

“But let’s talk about something happier. How’s your fro-yo?”

•••••

“Your sister should have come out earlier,” Ashton tells Michael.

“Like ten months earlier,” Calum agrees drinking from his beer. They’re sat in the living room watching Michael play a video game.

“Honestly, I have no idea what she’s doing but it’s working. Luke seems more like himself than he has in the past year and a half,” Michael says. His thumbs working furiously on the buttons of his controller.

“Do you think they’re just hanging out or doing other . . . things?” Calum asks carefully side eyeing Michael.

Michael pauses the game turning slowly to Calum, his face is expressionless sans the anger in his eyes.

“That’s my little sister, Cal,” he says in a warning voice.

“I know! But she’s not little anymore, and she did have a crush on Luke growing up. They’re both adults spending some time together, y’know, things happen,” he shrugs as if it’s not a big deal.

“Okay, I’ll remember that next time Mali hangs out with Trey,” Michael snaps and Calum’s eyes widen.

“What? Who’s Trey?”

“Guys,” Ashton tries to break up the fight before it happens.

“Just a guy she’s hanging out with, no big deal right? Cause they’re probably sleeping together.”

“That’s my sister!”

“Now you see my point!”

“Guys! Bigger picture, please!” Ashton shouts this time and the other two fall silent. “You should see him at the house whenever Emmy texts or calls him. I swear he’s becoming himself again.”

“What would you do if they are dating?” Calum asks.

“Nothing I could do is there? She’s her own person, he’s my best friend. They can do what they want, but if he breaks her heart I’ll give him hell.”

“I thought I was your best friend,” Calum frowns.

“You’re all my best friends,” Michael sighs, “We’ve been over this a hundred times. Are they dating?”

“Where even are they anyway?” Calum asks looking around.

“Luke said they were going mini golfing and to a movie,” Ashton grins.

“They’re definitely dating,” Calum nods.

•••••

The movie they went to see didn’t end until about 1 a.m. they went to a late showing and it was about three hours long. Emmy loved it even though she cried and Luke didn’t hesitate in wiping her tears away from her cheeks.

“Hey, can we go to—“

“Moon Glo?” he smiles looking her way and she squeals in happiness.

“You’re the best,” she claps her hands excitedly and Luke chuckles.

They ordered the same thing as last time and sat talking in his car until Emmy began to yawn. Luke took her empty bowl and threw it out along with his in the garbage on the sidewalk. When he got back she blinked slowly at him.

“Time to take you home, Pip,” he murmurs pulling his seatbelt across himself and starting the car.

“Don’t wanna,” she sighs with a pout.

“You’re sleepy,” he chuckles. “I won’t have you sleep in my car, it’s not that comfortable.”

“Fine,” she sighs.

Emmy does end up falling asleep on the drive back and Luke thinks she looks horribly adorable with her head resting on the middle of the console. Her lips are pursed and her long lashes cast shadows on her round cheeks. He sighs longingly as he pulls into Michael’s driveway and he brushes her hair from her face.

“Hey, we’re home,” he says softly near her ear, “Emmy, wake up.”

She groans but blinks her eyes open slowly.

“Come on, sleepy girl,” he chuckles unlocking her belt. He catches it so it doesn’t strike her face and lets it retract slowly.

She unfurls her legs and Luke scrambles out of the car to open her door. He helps her unlock the front door and she nearly falls taking off her shoes. Which is odd considering she’s wearing flip-flops.

Luke steadies her and asks in a hushed voice, “Which is your room?”

“Up,” she points tiredly.

He smiles leading her to the stairs which could be an issue so he lifts her into his arms and carries her the rest of the way. He figures the room on the left is hers, it shows the skyline of the hills beautifully, and she’s always liked a good view. He lays her down gently on the bed but she clutches his sweatshirt in her fingers.

“Stay,” she demands weakly, her big doe eyes staring at him.

“I’ll be fine, I’m going back to Ash’s place—“

“No. You could hit a raccoon. Come on, just go to sleep,” she sighs shifting in the bed so he has room.

Luke’s heart is pounding in his ears at her request. “You sure?” he breathes.

“Yes. Now get in her Lucas, it’s getting cold.”

He toes off his shoes and removes his socks. Then he tugs his sweatshirt off so he’s in his t-shirt. Normally he sleeps in just his boxers but no way is he going to do that right now. He clears his throat about to climb in when she stops him.

“What are you doing?” she’s sitting up now.

“I’m—you told me to go to sleep,” he stares at her confused.

“Who sleeps in skinny jeans?” she huffs then gets out of bed and picks up an article of clothing. “These are Mike’s basketball shorts. Put those on.”

She chucks them at him and he turns around to peel off his jeans. He sighs at the looser fit of the shorts. When he spins around she’s changed into shorts and a t-shirt of her own. Damn, that’s fast.

“Better?” she asks climbing back into her bed.

“Much. Thank you,” he says then awkwardly gets into bed with her. He makes sure to stay as far from her as he can, he doesn’t want to cross any boundaries. Especially with his best friend’s younger sister.

His chivalry is tossed out the window though because she pulls him to her, his arm falling over her waist and she tickles her fingers up and down his arm.

“Now sleep,” she tells him burrowing further into her pillow.

The sound of her breathing and the light, coaxing touches of her fingers on his skin relaxes him and he closes his eyes. On average he only sleeps maybe four hours every night, so when he will inevitably wake up he’d sneak out before Michael or Crystal realized he was in bed with Emmy.

•••••

When he woke up, sunlight was streaming through the curtains. He shifted and inhaled a flowery smell mixed in with coconut; it was nice and he inhaled more. Soft giggles filled his ears and he opened his eyes to see his head nestled in Emmy’s neck.

“You’re tickling me,” she giggles again.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sleepily and he pulls his head back.

She rolls over, a smile already painted on her face. “Morning sunshine.”

“Morning,” he grumbles. His fingers rub circles on her lower back. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

“Fuck. Really?”

“Yeah, you slept a long time,” her finger touch the skin below his eyes delicately. “Your eyes don’t look as dark.”

“Yours are, you’ve got mascara everywhere,” he chuckles.

“Great,” she groans. “I look like a raccoon.”

“A cute raccoon,” he grins biting his lip.

She rolls her eyes. “If you say so. I’m hungry. Let’s go get food.”

“How are you this chipper when you just wake up?” he asks rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I’ve been awake for an hour,” she snickers then rolls out of his arms and onto the floor.

When Luke opens his bleary eyes from behind his hands, he’s transfixed by Emmy before him. Her sleep shorts rose up a bit and he’s staring straight at the bottom of her ass cheeks. He’s oh so tempted to reach out and squeeze, pulling her back into bed and onto his lap.

Woah…what?

“Are you checking me out?”

“No,” he responds too quickly averting his eyes then curses himself. He gets out of bed as well and tousles his hair.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she laughs.

Luke sighs in defeat then follows her downstairs. He hears Michael and Crystal’s voices and he gulps. He readies himself for a punch in the stomach or a clock to his face from Michael. He’s prepared to say they just slept.

“Oh my God. They’re alive!” Michael laughs from the couch, his guitar in hand. Crystal laughs beside him scrolling through her tablet. “Do you guys have a fro-yo hangover?”

“Yes, now we need hangover food. Wanna make us some French toast?” Emmy smiles with her tongue between her teeth, she makes her eyes really big and blinks them super-fast.

Luke would say yes in a heartbeat from her expression alone but Michael doesn’t give in to his sister’s shenanigans as easily.

“Nice try,” he deadpans. “Make them yourself, Pipsqueak.”

She sticks her tongue out then tugs Luke into the kitchen. Luke glances to Michael in alarm as she held his hand but he’s paying them no attention.

“Babe, you should make her breakfast. She’s our guest,” Crystal says.

“She can make her own breakfast!”

“I had to make you breakfast when we were home alone in the summer, Mikey,” Emmy calls gathering the French toast ingredients.

Then there’s a smack from Crystal and they bicker quietly together on the couch. Emmy stares up at Luke triumphantly.

“I love getting him in trouble with her.”

•••••

Their group is going out to Viral, their favorite club and Luke just came downstairs in all black with his shirt unbuttoned and two pairs of necklaces. He took a shower beforehand and he’s feeling fresh and ready to party. He’s really anxious to see Emmy.

“Hey man, ready to go?” Ashton asks with Calum behind him.

“Yeah, are the cabs coming to Michael’s?” Luke asks shoving his wallet in his back pocket.

“They’re gonna meet us there,” Calum says.

“Oh,” Luke chews on his bottom lip deflating a little. He won’t get to walk in with Emmy and see her reaction to the place. “All right.”

He’s silent in the car ride to the club, and does a bemused wave to fans that spot them outside the club before they enter. He heads to the bar as soon as they’re in the VIP section, slams down a shot then orders his usual.

Ashton and Calum are looking at him worriedly when he makes it back to their sitting area, he chooses to ignore them much like the girls who are making eyes at him. He knows who they are since he’s seen them naked before but he ignores them as well. None of them hold his interest anymore.

Except one.

He’s halfway done with his first drink, so he gets up to buy another—he’ll finish this one easily on the way—when he spots Michael and Crystal walking towards him hand in hand. Emmy’s not with them, great, she’s probably on a date—

There she is. Emmy shuffles beside her brother, her eyes landing on Luke straightaway. He smiles instinctually and veers to her direction, her smile alone pulls him. His arms slip around her easily as he embraces her in a tight hug. He squeezes her to him causing her to lift from the ground slightly and she laughs in his ear.

Everyone else around them disappears, his focus is only on her and when he sets her down on her feet he takes in her outfit. She’s wearing a pretty red romper with a black belt and ankle boots. She’s mouthwatering.

“You’re drooling,” she teases rubbing her thumb on his dry bottom lip. He knows he’s not but her touch sets his skin ablaze.

“Can you blame me?” he smiles lazily grabbing her hand. “Want something to drink?”

“A mint mojito,” she beams following him to the bar.

“Classy girl,” he smirks then flags down the bartender.

•••••

“He didn’t even look at us! Does he know we’re here?” Michael exclaims exasperatedly watching Luke and Emmy at the bar. He and Crystal joined the others sitting around the small round glass table.

“Oh leave him be,” Crystal squeezes her boyfriend’s knee. “I think it’s cute. Did you see how his face lit up when he saw her?”

“He was pretty bent up that we were meeting you here,” Calum says.

“I think he wanted to drive with Emmy,” Ashton adds.

“That’s so cute,” Crystal sighs.

“He’s lucky I know him, I wouldn’t want someone else looking at my sister like he is,” Michael sighs.

“Like what?”

“He’s looking at her like she’s the sun,” Crystal grins watching them.

•••••

Luke and Emmy join the rest of the group but make sure to sit close together, Luke’s leg is touching hers and she has her hand resting on his knee as they join in conversation. Luke nurses his second drink, he doesn’t want to be too intoxicated and forget what he and Emmy do together.

She’s taking shots and is on her fourth drink when she and Crystal head to the bathroom. As she passes by Luke, she takes his face in her hand and rubs his cheek affectionately before following Crystal to the bathroom. He watches her go with a permanent smile which quickly fades when he turns to his three best friends. All of their eyebrows are raised and Michael is staring him down.

“Uh, yes?” he asks awkwardly.

“What’s going on between you two?” Ashton giggles.

“What do you mean?”

“You were going to get plastered tonight, and I know because I saw the look in your eye, but as soon as Emmy arrived you’ve barely finished your second drink. Which probably is so watered down you can’t even taste the alcohol anymore,” Ashton explains.

“You’ve been by each other’s side the whole time,” Calum adds sipping his cocktail.

Luke doesn’t know what to say but he looks at Michael. His expression is hard to read, what with the flashing lights and the fact that he’s been drinking as well.

“Does my sister make you happy?” Michael asks.

“Of course she does!” Ashton answers for Luke very loudly. “He hasn’t been this happy in so long, and it’s all because of her, right?”

“Yeah,” Luke admits sheepishly. “I’m sorry Mike. I didn’t plan on this happening but she’s just . . . she’s something else.”

•••••

“Tell me Ems, are you and Luke dating?” Crystal asks while they’re leaning against the bathroom sinks.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“He’s spent the night nearly every night since you got here. He’s talking a lot more, he’s smiling a lot more, and you haven’t left his side the whole night.”

“I don’t know what we are, we haven’t talked about it. We haven’t even kissed yet,” Emmy sighs in disappointment.

“I can tell you, the boy is smitten with you,” Crystal winks.

“How can you tell?”

“How can you not? Did you not see the way he smiled at you when we came?” Crystal asks and Emmy blushes in response. “He’s changed a lot since you got here, he seems more like himself ever since Lea . . .”

•••••

Emmy is lost in thought as they exit the bathroom as Crystal drags her to the bar to order a shot. Luke notices them standing by the bar, he doesn’t know why but he feels like he should be over there. Even though they’re in the VIP section, creeps are still everywhere.

He’s only half listening to the guys’ conversation because his attention is on Emmy and the way she’s bouncing on her feet to the beat of the music. The way her eyes close when she laughed at something Crystal said. The way a guy grabbed her waist and pulled her against his chest.

Crystal tries to intervene but is shoved away into another guy and Luke rises immediately. He grabs Michael by the scruff of his shirt who yelps in protest.

“It’s Crystal and Emmy,” Luke hisses quickly and he bound down the stairs like lightning.

“Stop touching me!” he hears Emmy protest.

Upon hearing her voice, Luke yanks the guy off her and she stumbles back into the bar. He shoves the guy as far away from Emmy as he can then motions to security to escort him and his friend out who Michael also shoved away. He watches security take them away until he’s sure they’re gone then he feels small hands touch his arm. He turns around to see Emmy biting her lip, her eyes wide in fear and glistening.

“You’re okay,” he says quickly pressing her against him. She allows herself to be crushed against his strong chest, she already feels safe in his arms. He kisses the top of her head, rubbing her arms and back while Mike tries to console a very drunk and very angry Crystal.

“Want me to take you home?” Luke asks lowly in her ear. She nods and he takes his phone out to text the valet to bring his car around.

He looks to Michael who’s already nodding in understanding that Luke will take his sister home. Luke feels Emmy’s hot breath through his shirt as he continues to soothe her until his phone buzzes.

“Okay, come on lovie,” he says grabbing her hand. “I’ve got you.”

•••••

Emmy’s silent the whole drive to Michael’s. Luke desperately wants to reach out and hold her hand, but the vibe he’s getting from her tells him not to. He doesn’t want to touch her unless she wants him to, but he needs to make sure she’s all right.

Before he has his car in park, she’s already tripping out of the car and up the walkway. Luke sighs then follows after her up to her bedroom but the door is closed. Memories of this being from another time, with a different girl and it made his heart crack at the all too familiar feeling.

No. She’s not Lea. She’s not mad at you.

He raps his knuckles gently on her door, and calls her name softly.

“You can come in,” her muffled voice says from the other side.

He turns the knob, his eyes scanning the room until he finds her pulling out his clothes he’s kept there when he spends the night. She’s already changed into her pajamas, her make up rubbed off hastily. He stands frozen in the doorway, not entirely sure on how to approach her. If he should approach her at all.

Emmy turns then gives him a funny look.

“Get in here and change,” she sighs heavily.

“You sure you want me to stay the night?” he asks taking a hesitant step closer.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You seem mad at me,” he shrugs, “and after what happened at the club I thought you’d want to be alone.”

Her arms drop and she’s peering at him intently. She meets him halfway tossing his shirt and shorts on the bed, still looking up at him. She hears how deep he’s breathing, his eyes never leaving hers but she can see the doubt in the sky blue irises.

“Luke Hemmings, being alone is the last thing I want,” her voice is just shy of a whisper but he can hear the true emotion in it.

He swallows as she moves closer and closer, her fingers tuck his curls behind his ear. He notices how her lips are parted slightly and the way her eyes dart between his lips and his eyes.

“What do you want?” he asks thickly.

“I . . . I want you to kiss me, Luke,” she whispers.

He exhales his breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and attaches his mouth to hers, his arms snaking around her waist to her lower back. Emmy’s hands clutch onto his biceps as he kisses her with so much want and desire. One of her hands find home in his curls and she tugs gently, his tongue swipes her bottom lip then he slips it between her lips.

Luke shifts them lifting her off the ground and he sits down on the bed, Emmy instantly straddling him and their lips stay locked in a heated kiss of teeth and tongue and heavy breathing.

Emmy rises her hips from his lap and Luke slides his hands over the roundness of her ass. She makes quick work of unbuttoning his black silk shirt, pulling the fabric tucked in his jeans and shoves it off his shoulders.

Luke tosses it to his left, or behind him, he’s not sure because he’s focused on the taste of her lips. They’re slightly minty from her mojitos but also sugary from the lemon drop shots she consumed throughout the evening.

Luke kneaded his fingers in the fullness of her ass and she moaned against his mouth, her hips rocking gently against his. His hands travel north over the top part of her romper, his thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts and she nips at his lip and he takes that opportunity to kiss along her jaw. He’s sucking on her skin as he begins to work on her belt but when she sighs he smells the alcohol on her breath and he stops his actions.

He tears his lips away from her jaw and places his hands on the side of her neck. Her eyes are a little bloodshot and filled with excitement, her pretty lips parted.

“What’s wrong?”

“I should stop before I won’t be able to,” he breathes, his eyes darting between hers.

“Oh,” she deflates on top of him and he can see the instant rejection in her eyes.

“No, no, baby, it’s not because I don’t want to,” he tries to recover quickly and holds onto her tighter. “I want to so bad, but not like this.”

She studies him carefully and can hear truth in his voice and knows he’s right. But it still stings.

“Can we kiss until we fall asleep?” she asks softly playing with his necklaces.

“Hey, look at me,” he murmurs ticking her chin up so her dark blue eyes are looking in his. “That’s not even a question.”

She gets off his lap then and they both go to her bathroom to brush their teeth, making eyes at each other in the mirror. Luke watches her fondly as she washes her face free of her make-up and when she’s dried her face he takes her cheeks in his hands kissing her.

They shuffle back to her bed, Emmy crawls in first and Luke hits the light switch before joining her under the covers. In their excitement of kissing some more, her hand smacks his cheek and his presses on her hair.

“Ow!” they yelp then burst into giggles.

“Where are your lips?” she laughs.

“Trying to find yours,” he responds then feels her top lip. “Gotcha.”

They kiss in whispers and he can’t help but notice her lips have a slight taste to coconut, it must be the chapstick she put on after brushing her teeth. Emmy’s fingers thread through his growing curls while Luke’s are strong on her lower back.

“I really like you, Emmy,” he confesses in one breath when they take a break of kissing. Luke’s fingers trail up and down her bare back underneath her shirt.

It feels good to finally say it out loud. The last week and a half he’s spent with her has been the happiest he’s been in so long. She’s repairing the carved out part of his heart that Lea ruthlessly took from him. She didn’t question him or treat him like a ticking time bomb. Emmy’s thumb traces over Luke’s top lip, his heart is racing waiting for her response.

“I really like you, Luke,” she admits giving him a gentle kiss. “And I really like kissing you.”

“I really like kissing you,” a smile spreads on his face before he kisses her with all he’s got.

“And it’s okay?” she gasps out.

“What’s okay?”

“That I like you and you like me even though I’m Mikey’s little sister?”

Luke draws back, his brows furrowed.

“That’s not an issue, Emmy. Michael and I actually talked about . . . us, kind of. He’s okay with it.”

“Really?! Oh, thank God,” she sighs launching herself on top of Luke peppering kisses all over his face. He’s soon laughing beneath her then tickles her sides in retaliation. Emmy shrieks in laughter at his attack until they’re both panting to catch their breath.

•••••

Luke’s standing alone in Roy’s backyard waiting and watching for Emmy. Roy and Calum decided to throw a midsummer beach party and the place was packed. Luke and Ashton showed up together and Emmy spent the day with Michael and Crystal so they’d be coming later.

Ashton left to mingle immediately and Luke scopes out the other partygoers. Some of them he recognizes from his own party days. He nods politely as they greet him but he’d much rather have Emmy by his side. He never wanted to go back to that life he lived for what felt like forever.

He’s scrolling through his phone then smiles again at the text Emmy sent him not too long ago saying she was on her way. Then he hears an all too familiar laugh that sends a cold sweat on the back of his neck.

Luke looks up to see Lea amongst a group of people, her signature high top-bun and white rimmed sunglasses frame her face as she converses. Luke swallows harshly but it only constricts his throat further. His feet are frozen, his heart is racing and there’s a slight ringing in his ears as panic sets in.

His brain is telling him to escape as fast as he can, to find Ashton or to find Emmy who he hopes is here somewhere but the message doesn’t reach his feet. He’s stuck staring at the girl who wrecked him completely, leaving him in the sunken ship she capsized.

Lea slid her sunglasses up her head then spotted Luke who still couldn’t look away. He thinks there’s a word for it, like when you drive by an accident and you can’t look away? His mind is blank as she stares at him, a ghost of her signature smirk appears before she starts walking his way.

He’s frozen in his spot, the ringing in his ears is louder and higher pitched and all he can do is watch the tornado of a woman create her warpath in his direction.

“Hey! There you are.”

Emmy’s voice breaks through Luke’s panic, and the gentle touch of her hands on his back as she hugs him causes him to tear his eyes away from the storm and onto the light that is Emmy. He exhales in relief when he looks into her eyes and she sees the familiar darkness.

“What’s the matter?”

“Hi Lukey-boo,” Lea greets in a sickly sweet voice, it makes his stomach turn. “Babysitting I see?”

Emmy twists around to look at Lea and Luke closes his eyes, he just wanted to keep looking in her eyes.

“You must be Lea,” Emmy greets brightly. She takes Luke’s hand in her own and squeezes it tightly. “I’ve heard so many things about you.”

“Oh thank you,” Lea smiles smugly, twisting her hair with her fingers.

“I didn’t say they were good things,” Emmy responds icily then turns to Luke. “Come on Luke, Mikey’s looking for you.”

Emmy drags Luke away as quick as she can inside the house, he’s shaking slightly and as soon as they’re inside he slips his hand from hers. He finds the nearest wall then starts smacking it as hard as he can, his teeth clenched.

“Hey, hey, Luke. Luke!” Ashton is suddenly behind him, between him and Emmy, with his hands on Luke’s shoulders. He pulls him away from the wall. “What’s going on?”

“Lea was outside,” Emmy explains quietly watching the scene in front of her.

“Shit,” Ashton mutters then pulls Luke with him upstairs.

Emmy smiles apologetically at the people in the kitchen then scampers after Ashton and Luke. When she looked into Luke’s eyes, he was the ghost of himself she’s never seen before. It terrified her, not for her safety, but only concern for Luke. She finds Ashton and Luke in Calum’s room, it’s far away from downstairs and faces the street instead of the backyard.

“You good? We can leave if you want or I’ll make Roy kick her out,” Ashton says.

“Did Calum know she was going to be here?”

“No, he wouldn’t do that, Luke. She must have overheard about the party or something and came here on purpose to mess with you,” Ashton squeezes Luke’s shoulders. His hands are keeping Luke’s head above the waters. “What do you need?”

“Where’s Emmy?”

“Ash…” Emmy says quietly stepping forward.

“She’s right here,” Ashton steps aside, releasing his hold on Luke.

Luke’s ice blue eyes slide to her and he visibly relaxes, his face softening and shoulders falling.

“You good?” Ashton asks, Luke nods stiffly. “I’ll be downstairs. Text me if you need me.”

Ashton pats him on the back then gives Emmy a small smile before exiting the room. He closes the door softly behind him and Luke falls onto the bed with a big sigh. His elbows rest on his knees and he hangs his head. Emmy joins him and places her hand on his neck.

“Hey,” she scratches the back of his neck with her nails. Luke breathes deeply and sits up straight turning to Emmy.

“Hey,” he croaks. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I wasn’t expecting Lea to be here and it’s—it’s been so long I thought I’d be okay and—“

“Luke, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain it to me, okay?” she strokes his cheek with the back of her fingers. “What happened?”

“I couldn’t…” he shakes his head. “I couldn’t move. I saw her and it’s like I was paralyzed. I’m so glad that you showed up when you did, lovie.”

Emmy kisses his forehead, his eyebrow, his cheek and then finally his lips. Her thumbs stroke his cheeks as she looks into his eyes.

“I am too. Do you want to stay or do you want to go somewhere else?”

“I didn’t really want to be here in the first place,” he sighs kissing the inside of her wrist.

“Then let’s go,” she smiles.

He follows her downstairs where Ashton is waiting for them, he perks up at the sight of them.

“What’s goin’ on?” Ashton asks looking between Emmy and Luke.

“We’re blowing this popsicle stand,” Emmy giggles. “Can you tell Mikey we left?”

“Yeah, no problem,” he watches them brisk by then he calls out, “where are you going?”

“An adventure!” Emmy shouts causing Luke to laugh and then they’re gone.

Luke is cruising down the 405 with the windows down and Emmy is singing along to the radio. Every time Luke looks over at her it’s easier for him to breathe and they arrive at the beach just as the sky turns a pretty golden orange.

“Take off your shoes,” Emmy orders already working on her black boots.

Luke toes off his own boots placing his socks inside then setting them down inside the car. He takes her hand leading the way into the hot but soft sand. The warm ocean breeze ruffles his hair and he inhales the salty air.

Their toes touch the water’s edge, Emmy squeals a little at the coolness of it but soon she’s kicking the water up.

“Hey!” he chuckles shielding his face.

“It’s just water,” she teases kicking a spray of it in his direction. Some of the spray hits his cheek.

“Do that again, I dare you,” he threatens but his voice doesn’t ring true of the threat. Emmy does it again. “That’s it, you’re in trouble now.”

“Ahh!” She screams and tries to run from him but his legs are longer and he snatches her up quickly.

He throws her over his shoulder, she’s squealing in laughter as he spins her around making sure to kick up some water.

“Luke!” she laughs patting his back and his butt in an attempt to get him to let her down.

“Say you’re sorry!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Satisfied, he sets her down gently. They both take a deep breath and then Emmy squats down to splash a huge amount of water on his stomach and legs. She’s laughing so hard she falls into the water on her butt, she gasps in surprise.

“Karma baby,” Luke chuckles.

Emmy groans and stands up. Her jean shorts are a shade darker and her top clings to her skin, the ends of her hair is wet and Luke can tell she’s grumpy about the turn of events. She scowls at him which he thinks is the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen before she leaps up in his arms. He’s taken aback and staggers backwards, the waves push against his balance and then they’re both in the water but Luke makes sure his hold is secure on Emmy.

“OOF!” he grunts at the impact and the wetness he now feels.

“I made my own karma,” Emmy snickers.

Luke squeezes her waist and stares into her eyes, thankful that karma has brought her back into his life. He wants to tell her his thoughts, but his mouth can’t form the words so he crushes his lips to hers in hopes she’ll understand what he can’t say.

They splash around in the water for a bit longer then sit in the sand until the sun starts to set and their clothes are somewhat dry. They decide to head back to Michael’s house. Emmy’s hand is rising and falling out the window as she sings along to Jaden Smith’s PCH blasting through the speakers.

“Gimme all your kisses baby cause this is bliss, gimme all your kisses baby…” she sings tilting her head from side to side in time with the beat of the song and Luke’s never felt so much fondness for a person before.

The house is quiet when Luke and Emmy arrive, Michael’s car is still gone so they must still be at the party. Luke pulls Emmy against him as soon as the door shuts, his lips on hers. Emmy sighs into the kiss linking her arms around his neck.

“Gimme all your kisses baby,” Luke mumbles and she nods enthusiastically.

He lifts her into his arms, her legs wrap around his waist and he heads upstairs to her bedroom. He sits down on her bed tugging her shirt up and off her head and Emmy removes her bra swiftly before tugging at his t-shirt.

Luke’s hands are hot on her skin as his tongue explores her mouth once more. She smells like the beach and her lips are sun kissed with a hint of saltiness from the ocean water. Emmy moans quietly and it causes Luke’s dick twitch in response.

He pulls away and looks at her, her eyes are alert, lips are red and swollen and she’s smiling. Luke drops his gaze to her bare torso and he lets out a huff at the sight of her chest rising and falling heavily. He presses his lips between her breasts, sponging kisses along the mound until he finds her nipple which he tugs between his teeth. His tongue flicks against it and she sighs in his arms at the sensation.

He shifts to the other breast doing the same thing but sucks hard on the skin, it makes an obscene noise and she whimpers. When he releases her breast he sees his teeth marks surrounding her nipple and his pants tighten at the sight. He looks up at her.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he pants then flips her over so she’s on her back. Her legs rise up on the bed but she stops him before he climbs on top of her.

“Wait, wait,” she holds onto his chest with her palm. “Get the door.”

He smiles and obeys shutting it and locks it for good measure even though he’s positive Michael and Crystal won’t be back for hours. When he turns around he sees she’s just in her black panties and he groans.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he sighs then kneels in front of her. Luke pulls her closer to him, an excited squeal escaping her lips at the movement and he pulls her panties to the side staring at her bare center. His mouth waters at the sight. “So pretty,” he whispers then runs his finger up her slit, his eyes move to hers.

She’s watching him intently, a fire in her eyes that he’s sure matches his. He teases her more by playing with her folds and kisses her inner thighs.

“Luke,” she whines his name and fuck, does he love the sound, “please.”

That plea is all he needs to hear and he attaches his mouth to her warm wet center, she tastes even better than he’s imagined. She whimpers above him, letting her legs fall open wider for him and he swipes his tongue up and down, in circular motions and flicks at her clit which makes her go wild.

She’s moaning so loud he swears he’s never heard a more beautiful sound, he wants to hear her make those noises forever. Emmy bucks her hips in time with his ministrations.

“You close, lovie?” he rasps looking up at her. She arches her back and moans out a ‘yes.’ “Come on my mouth, baby.”

He devours her, keeping his mouth on her and moving his face roughly from side to side as she moans relentlessly. He searches for her hand that is clutching the sheet in a death grip and drags it to his hair. She yanks and pulls with each spasm of her orgasm washing over her but Luke doesn’t stop. He keeps sucking and licking until her movements slow and she lets out a deeply satisfied sigh.

Luke licks his lips then slips her panties off her waist and down her legs. He stuffs it in his back pocket, kissing both sides of her thighs as she comes down from her orgasm. His gaze is locked on her, watching her facial expressions and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits trailing his fingers up and down her leg before hooking it over his shoulder.

“You’re really good at it,” she puffs out and he chuckles.

He lifts her other leg over his shoulder and looks up at her darkly. “Want me to go again, lovie?”

He doesn’t give her time to answer before he slips his middle finger inside curling it as he does. Her mouth opens in a perfect little ‘o’ and she yanks harshly at the root of his curls. She rocks her hips against his finger, a chorus of moans fill the room as he pumps into her faster, harder, and it’s not long until she’s coming beneath him again.

When he removes his finger, he traces a line from her slit, past her bellybutton and around the curves of her breast. Then he scoots back down in between her legs, she whimpers already knowing what he’s planning to do.

“Got one more for me, baby?” he rasps situating himself at her core. Again, he doesn’t give her a chance to answer before he’s diving in, darting his tongue in and out at an antagonizing pace.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” she squeals pulling on his hair. Her body shakes. Her legs are trembling.

When he adds his finger again she lets out an animalistic growl that only urges Luke to continue pleasuring her, loving the yank of his hair by her fingers. He hums against her, the vibrations adding even more to her pleasure and her body spasms before clenching as she lets out a scream.

Luke feels her come all over his finger and his mouth, his eyes on her the entire time as her whole body lifted from the bed, as if she were ascending into an astral plane of pure ecstasy. When her body drops back down, her legs going lax, is when he decides to stop. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and swipes his finger on his jeans, he doesn’t care that they’re black and it’ll stain.

Luke crawls over her once more, Evie somehow finds the strength to press her palm against his chest. He notices the space between her cleavage is sheened with sweat.

“Please, no more,” she whispers. Her eyes are hooded as she stares up at him.

“No more,” he shakes his head then rests his forehead on hers. “You did so well, baby. I love hearing your moans.” She yawns then and he rolls off the bed to retrieve some new underwear and her pajamas.

He helps her change into them, her legs are wobbling as she does and they head into the bathroom to wash up. Luke holds onto her hip while they brush their teeth and while she washes her face. He tucks her into bed before he pulls off his jeans and places his t-shirt over his head and climbs in behind her. He chuckles to himself when he realizes how she’s lying, her legs are completely spread, and she’s on her stomach with her arms splayed over the pillow.

She looks like a cute little starfish.

He settles in behind her and rubs her back helping her relax, he knows she loves that. Then he kisses her neck and whispers, ‘goodnight, pretty girl.’

•••••

When Emmy woke up the next morning, memories of last night flooded into her mind. Butterflies appeared in her tummy as she woke up a bit more, blinking her eyes open slowly. She rolls over to see Luke already awake and staring at the ceiling, his arms locked behind his head.

“Good morning,” Emmy greets, her voice is strained as she stretches her limbs.

“Morning,” he smiles wistfully at her then continues staring at the ceiling.

Emmy’s eyebrows pull together and she scoots herself on his chest. She pulls on his chin until his pretty blue eyes meet hers.

“What’s on your mind?” she asks.

Luke brings his left arm down from behind his head to settle it on her waist. His fingers slip beneath her shirt to tickle her back and goosebumps rise at his feather light touch on her skin.

“I think I want to go back home.”

“To Aus?”

“N-no . . . my house. Here. In LA,” his Adam’s apple works in his throat.

“Oh,” Emmy squeaks then clears her throat. “Okay. When? Today?”

“Maybe. Yeah. . . I think so. I don’t know,” he closes his eyes breathing deeply through his nose.

“I’ll go with you,” she offers, “unless you want to go alone.”

“No, I want you to come with me, lovie. It’ll help having you there.”

“Okay,” she touches his cheek and his eyes open. She smiles softly. “Hi.”

“Hi pretty girl,” he lifts his head stretching forward to give her a soft kiss.

“Can I try something?” she asks resting her hand on his lower stomach.

“Like what?” He gives her a quizzical look.

“Liiiike what you did for me last night. . .” she slides her hand lower under the sheet and onto his boxers. She rubs her palm over his dick gently and Luke inhales sharply. “. . . but I want to do it for you.”

“You don’t have to Ems,” he licks his lips as she continues to palm him.

He’s getting harder in her hand and he blinks slowly at her soft tugging.

“I want to,” she breathes leaning up to kiss him and she slips her hand underneath his boxers. He’s warm and soft in her hand as she strokes him lazily.

Luke inhales sharply again, his hand squeezes her waist.

“Can I?” she kisses his neck then slides down the length of his body.

“Mhm,” he hums lifting his hips so she can pull his boxers down.

Emmy kisses his tummy softly and continues to give open mouthed kisses on his skin until she kisses the tip of his dick. She continues to mouth him, opening her mouth to let her tongue swirl around his tip.

“Baby,” he sighs and Emmy takes more of him in her mouth.

“Quiet,” she whispers jerking her head to the door behind her. Michael and Crystal are asleep down the hall and she did not want to wake them up like this.

Luke nods and Emmy hollows out her cheeks to take him in her mouth as far as she can go, salivating on him so she can pump him with her hand. Luke’s grunting and groaning softly, watching her every move. He loves the way her head bobs up and down slowly and the way she swirls her tongue up and down his shaft.

He jerks his hips gently with her movements, his fingers comb through her hair and she moves faster. Luke’s panting heavily until he feels his release coming, with a low grunt and no warning, he’s coming in her mouth.

“Babe, babe, Ems,” he gasps trying to get her mouth off him but she swallows all he’s giving her.

Luke throws his head back on the pillows, heart racing, and his body spent. It’s been so long since he’s gotten head, he’s a little embarrassed it didn’t take him long to orgasm to but to have Emmy doing it for him was amazing.

Emmy wipes the corner of her mouth, wincing a little but gives Luke a smile nonetheless.

“Sorry, that’s . . . it’s been a while,” he sighs blinking slowly.

“Did you like it?” her eyes big.

“Yes, baby, I loved it,” he gives her a glazed smile. “C’mere.”

His fingers are in her hair again and they kiss lazily until Michael is banging on the door complaining about how he’s hungry and they’re all going out for breakfast.

•••••

Emmy joins Luke at the front door of his house, he’s twirling his keys between his fingers. She grabs hold of his bicep and Luke gives a small grin that looks more like a grimace then inserts the key. He takes Emmy’s hand in his and leads her inside.

Emmy looks around the space, it’s very modern with a lot of sharp edged furniture. Everything is in its own place and very black and white. It’s the furthest thing from Luke and Emmy didn’t like it at all.

“Well, this is it,” he gestures, “What do you think?”

“It’s very. . .” Emmy scans the empty kitchen and bare walls. “Clean.”

Luke snorts walking her down the hall. “It’s very Lea. She chose everything.”

Emmy frowns at that and peeks in the rooms before they stop in a bedroom she assumes is his room. It’s also very modern and monochromatic. The only splash of color is from a potted plant in the corner that is surely fake, no wonder Lea chose it.

Emmy moves to the window to see a nice view of of the hills and a small pool that’s in serious need of some care. When she turns around, Luke is sitting on the bed watching her with a thoughtful expression.

“What’s running through your mind, honey bun?” she asks threading her fingers through his curls.

He smiles at the nickname and grabs hold of her thigh, his thumb rubs circles on her exposed skin below her shorts.

“I want to get rid of everything. Repaint the walls, get new furniture and a new bed,” he grins deviously up at her and pulls her closer.

“I think that’s a marvelous idea,” she smiles.

“Do you want to help me?”

“Really? I don’t want to intrude—“

“You won’t,” he shakes his head, “I want your opinion since . . .”

“Since what?”

“Since I want you to visit and I want you to visit a lot and I want you to like it too.”

Emmy melts into his arms, hugging him tightly. His arms are wrapped around her and he pulls her onto his lap.

“Is that okay?” he asks in her ear.

“It’s more than okay. That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, Luke,” she kisses his shoulder.

“You’re the sweetest thing.”

•••••

Luke and Emmy got to work right away on remodeling his house. He donated all of his furniture and hired a cleaning crew for the whole house, and the pool before the painters come.

While the painters were doing their job, Luke and Emmy went furniture shopping. He was a little apprehensive at first, but only because flashbacks of when he and Lea did the same thing she chose everything while Luke followed along silently.

But with Emmy, she made everything fun and lighthearted. She tested each couch cushion, pulling him down with her. It’s like she was goldilocks and Luke felt like he was anything but the big bad wolf like how Lea made him feel.

He decided on a blue couch with gray armchairs for the living room and he chose a king sized bed and a dark red armchair for his bedroom. It would all be delivered by next week which would be crunch time because in two weeks they’d be leaving for Bali.

As they were leaving the furniture store to go decoration shopping, Luke noticed some familiar photographers hanging around across the street. He remembers how Emmy nearly fell the last time she was around the paps and he took hold of her hand.

Was that already two months ago?

Luke keeps glancing at her once he’s driving to the next store and he can’t believe the timeline of him and Emmy.

Growing up, she was always Mikey’s younger sister who wanted to play video games and hang out with them all the time. When their music career began, they lost touch and sight of each other but he thought about her often.

“What’re you thinking so hard about over there?” Emmy pulls him out of his reverie just as they climb out of the car.

“You,” he answers simply holding out his hand for her to take. He doesn’t miss the blush on her cheeks and Luke loves it.

“Oh,” she giggles softly.

The decorating was his favorite thing to shop for because Emmy got so animated about everything she saw. She’d say where it would look best in his house and how it would pair nicely with something else she found in another aisle. Being with Emmy was as easy as breathing and blinking. He didn’t have to think about it, it just . . . felt so right.

Emmy is pointing out bookends that are guitars and Luke steps forward and places his finger under her chin so he can kiss her softly. His lips move against hers slowly, wanting to show her how delicate she is and deserves to be treated with such care.

“What was that for?” she exhales smiling up at him.

“I’m happy you’re here with me, Pip.” Luke’s fingers brush her hair back over her shoulder.

“You haven’t called me that since I got here,” she giggles.

“I know, you’re still my Pipsqueak. I think I’ve got all we need, ready to go back to your brother’s?”

She nods slowly taking his hand and they exit the store. As soon as they step into the hot LA sun, their names are being shouted left and right while a multitude of shutter speeds click a mile a minute. Emmy immediately coils into Luke’s side and he shifts his arm around her shoulders guiding her to the car.

“Is it true you and Lea are talking things through?”

“How does Michael feel about you with his sister?”

“What’s it like dating Luke?”

“Are you moving in together?”

“Do you still love Lea?”

The questions were fired from left and right and each time Lea was mentioned Luke tensed up and it only made him approach the car that much faster. Luke shields Emmy’s body with his own so she could get into the car safely and Luke hurried to his side.

Thankfully, the photographers backed away so Luke could peel out of the parking lot. His hands were shaking against the wheel, he flinches when Emmy grabs hold of his fingers with her own. He lets her place his hand in her lap where she caressed his fingers in a soothing way.

He calmed down immediately.

•••••

A week has gone by and Luke’s house is finally complete. He invites Emmy over first so they can be alone before he shows the others. They did this together and he wanted to revel in their job well done.

“Luke, it’s so amazing!” she gushes eyeing the piano he selected.

The space seems more like Luke, it’s open and warm and full of color.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he smiles leaning against his kitchen counter. He watches her peer at the guitar bookends on his shelf on either side of his TV. Her smile is radiant as she approaches him, his arms hold onto her waist loosely.

“Does it feel like home?”

His eyes search hers before he leans down pressing his lips to hers, he pulls her tighter against him. One hand travels to her neck and her hands hold onto the sides of his waist. The kiss becomes needy quickly and filled with so much desire Emmy gasps for breath but Luke moves his lips to her neck.

Emmy sighs, her fingers play with the ends of his curls that are getting longer before she starts to work on his buttons and his hands slide under her shirt. They remove the articles of clothing onto the floor, Luke’s fingers slip under the straps of her bra gliding them down her shoulders.

Luke pulls his mouth away from hers to look at her, her eyes are shining and her chest is rising heavily as she tries to catch her breath. To his surprise, she unfastens her bra and lets it fall to the floor between them. Emmy lifts her arms around his neck connecting their lips once more and Luke hoists her legs around his waist.

Lips still molding together, he peeks through his lids as he makes his way to his bedroom and places her on his bed gently. He moves to his knees on the floor as he pulls her shorts and underwear off, his mouth hot on her skin as he did so. He kisses up her leg, tongue delving between her pussy lips slowly.

Emmy sighs above him and he hums against her before removing his own clothes. Her hands reach for him as he reaches for her and then he’s hovering above her. Their eyes meet and they have a silent conversation as she settles herself beneath him and takes hold of him.

He kisses her as he pushes into her carefully. Moaning and sighing with bodies rolling like waves, they find the perfect rhythm easily. Their fingers slot together next to her head and their kisses become sloppy as their movements quicken.

They breathe each other in and when she clenches around him, Luke moans her name in her ear as she fills his with the chorus of her moans. As she comes notes and lyrics fill his head and he moves faster, grunting with each pull and thrust until he’s coming as well.

When he’s finished, he lifts his head to see she’s already staring at him, soft expression on her face and their fingers unlock. Soft pecks to her lips and all over her face makes her laugh and he caresses her cheek.

“You feel like home,” he tells her. She bites her lip then cuddles into his chest, kissing every inch of him she can.

•••••

Bali has been nothing but exceptional for Emmy and she loved having Luke show her around to his favorite spots. During the day they’d do activities like zip lining, visit the Uluwatu Temple and the monkey temple where they each got photos of a little monkey on their shoulders.

Each night they’d have dinner with Michael and everybody else then enjoy a large bonfire on the beach where Luke held Emmy between his legs in the sand. Michael kept a careful eye on them both, more so than when they were back home in LA. He picked up on different things here than back at home.

Like how whenever Luke would look at his sister, he’d have an instant smile on his face and when Emmy would be talking Luke listened very carefully. He always walked with her on the inside of the roads and when they’d join together again if they got split up from sight-seeing, he’d kiss her cheek.

Michael took notice of his sister’s actions as well. While they were looking at the trinket shops, her eyes would be on the token in her hand while her other reached for Luke who would be by her side instantly and she hadn’t even said his name. He noticed the way her face brightened when Luke would greet her with a kiss or simply look at her.

It made Michael happy that his best friend and his sister were so happy together. Especially for Luke, he didn’t seem so broken anymore. It also made Michael realize how grown up his sister is now. She’s no longer the little sister who followed them around wanting to play games and listen to their music.

“You’re quiet, that means you’re thinking something,” Crystal says sitting next to him on the couch out by the pool.

Michael’s eyes are focused on Luke and Emmy across the way in the pool. His sister has her legs in the water while Luke’s arms are resting on her thighs and they’re just talking to each other. Emmy dips her hand in the water then slicks back Luke’s curls, she smiles at something he says.

“I think they’re in love,” Michael finally speaks up, his fingers twiddling together.

“I think so too,” Crystal smiles placing her hand over his just as Emmy squealed in laughter as Luke pulled her into the water with him.

Later that night, before everyone disappeared for bed, Michael pulls Luke aside.

“What’s up?” Luke asks.

Michael gazes at one of his best friends for a moment, Luke’s skin color is tanner from the holiday sun, the dark circles under his eyes are gone completely and his eyes don’t have that hard edge to them anymore. He’s a completely different person from when he was with Lea and he had his little sister to thank.

“Um, I know we sort of talked about this at the club but . . . you’re serious about Ems, aren’t you?” Michael flat out asks.

Luke softens at her name and he nods, his fingers run through his unruly curls. Michael’s noticed he’s let his hair grow out, he seems freer.

“Yeah, I am,” Luke breathes, “she’s really special and important to me, Mike.”

“I can tell,” Michael smiles. “I wanted to tell you how happy I am for the both of you and I’m glad you have each other. It’s great seeing you as yourself again, man.”

“It feels good to be myself again, I have her to thank for it. But, uh, thanks for telling me. I still think you’re going to try and beat me up,” Luke chuckles.

“I have thought about it only because of my natural protective brother instincts,” Michael laughs along, “but you’re not a tiny breadstick anymore.”

They bump fists and then hug each other tightly before splitting off in the direction of their rooms.

When Luke finds Emmy she’s just getting out of the bathroom, her hair wet and she smiles at him when she walks by.

“Couldn’t wait to shower with me?” he teases following her to the bed. She sits cross legged in the center of it.

“It was a quick one just to get the sand off. What did my brother want?”

Luke sits next to her and takes her hands in his that are resting in her lap.

“He told me he’s happy we have each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Luke’s eyes flicker to hers. “Which is great because there’s something I’ve been wanting to show you. . .”

He pulls out his phone and opens up his voice notes app. Emmy watches him scroll down a few until he presses play and sets his phone on her bare knee.

His singing voice croons through the speaker and the sound of the ocean waves makes it even more special as he sings:

You came and topped them all You shine in the dead of the night And I was the first to fall

Fading away, fading away Wake up to someone with nothing to say I never change, though I'd never change Then you come and change it all

With your love, your love, I'm a better, better man With your love, your love, I'm a better, better man Darling, all of my wrongs, they lead me right to you Wrapped in your arms, I swear I'd….

When the recording stopped, Emmy stares at Luke with wide eyes as she lets the piano and the lyrics resonate in her mind. He scoots closer to her then brushes his fingers on her cheek, his eyes focused on hers.

“I love you, Emmy,” he breathes without missing a beat.

His voice is soft as petals falling to the floor and Emmy’s heart catapults in her chest. Her lips widen in a smile and she lifts herself onto her knees to give him a big kiss. Luke’s hands hold onto her lower back as he kisses her back then they fall onto the bed together.

“I love you, too Luke,” she says on his lips.

They roll over together, lips and fingers interlocked anchoring each other. Luke’s no longer a castaway adrift at sea from a broken relationship void of love. Now he’s with Emmy, his shining lighthouse who makes him the better man he was always meant to be.

• • • •

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bettydice · 3 years

Text

I didn’t expect you to be lonely (too)

Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 6

Jiang Cheng frowns at the sky, blinking furiously as the rain hits his face. Maybe if he scowls hard enough, the rain will retreat like everyone else that gets close to him.

Next to him, Lan Xichen politely clears his throat. “I have an umbrella. In my bag.”

That works, too.

Since Lan Xichen is taller than him, it’s a bit awkward to hold the umbrella over both of them while still holding on to his hand. But they manage to cross the road and enter the park without getting soaked. There’s a little pavillon not too far from the park entrance and they sit down on the bench.

Once they’re settled down, Lan Xichen closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths and he tightens his grip on Jiang Cheng’s hand, seemingly unconsciously. Jiang Cheng notices with relief the colour returning to his face.

“I’m sorry.” Lan Xichen eventually says.

Jiang Cheng’s heart painfully tightens, when he hears how miserable Lan Xichen sounds. “No apology needed. Do you feel better now?”

“I’m fine. Well… better.” Lan Xichen’s smile is still tense around the edges. He averts his eyes. Jiang Cheng waits for him to say something else, but he doesn’t.

“You should have told me,” Jiang Cheng blurts out, much more gruffly sounding than intended. Fuck. “I mean… Tell me, next time. It’s okay.”

“Mhm?”

“When you get overwhelmed. Tell me, when you need to leave or something. Better, tell me where you’d feel comfortable going. Only if you want to do this again, of course. I don’t want to assume…” Jiang Cheng looks down at their linked hands, then back at Lan Xichen, who finally meets his eyes again.

“Of course I want to.” Lan Xichen opens his mouth to say something,closes it again, then repeats the process until he finally sighs, incredibly frustrated. “I think… we should talk. About… what just happened.”

“Is it… uhm… ago-… some kind of phobia? Or social anxiety, something like that?” Jiang Cheng squeezes his hand, hoping it’ll assure Lan Xichen it’s fine to tell him these things. He’s worried his face and voice aren’t reassuring enough.

“Ah… well, the latter, I suppose. I’ve been doing much better recently. I thought… if I just wanted it enough, it would be fine.” Lan Xichen lowers his gaze again and adds quietly, a little embarrassed: “My therapist warned me this morning, about putting too much pressure on myself. But I really just wanted… a normal date with you. Without all of… all of this.” He holds out his free hand, which is still shaking a little, then balls it into a fist.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to say to that. He keeps holding Lan Xichen’s hand, even though it doesn’t feel like enough. He should say something. Or… or hug him. Or would that be too much?

“I’d hoped this kind of talk could wait… but I suppose there is no upside to waiting.” Lan Xichen sighs again, defeated, then turns his head so he can look at Jiang Cheng. “My last - only - relationship ended badly. Painfully. He was… He only showed me a carefully constructed version of himself and… I’ll spare us both the agony of going into details, but after it ended, I… well, I didn’t really leave my apartment anymore.” He studies Jiang Cheng’s face for a second and Jiang Cheng is terrified. What if he’s reacting wrong? What if he sees something hurtful? But Lan Xichen laughs. Weakly, but he laughs. “And I bought a lot of plants.”

“Well, they’re very pretty plants.” That’s what he says? After Lan Xichen has bared his heart, this is what Jiang Cheng has to say? He’s such a fucking idiot!

“Thank you.” Lan Xichen’s smile is genuine. He really is… too good. Then his face turns serious again, he levels Jiang Cheng with an intense look. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever be… interested in... I‘m not sure that’s the right word. Maybe it would be more appropriate to say: I wasn’t sure I’d be willing to risk getting hurt? I didn’t trust my ability to read people correctly. Which is why it took me by surprise, to have such feelings for you. I think a part of me thought I would not be able to…“

Fuck. He wants to hug him. Do anything that would chase away the sadness in his eyes. Beat up his ex-boyfriend, definitely. He needs to say something, though. Lan Xichen seems to be anxiously waiting for his reaction and…

Only one thought crystallizes itself in his brain and before he knows it, or can think better of it, it has left his mouth. “You shouldn’t do this with me.”

Lan Xichen looks hurt. But he catches himself instantly, and gives Jiang Cheng a weak smile. “Oh. Of course, it’s too much, it’s too… I’m sorry.”

Fuck! He’s such a fucking idiot! Lan Xichen lets go of Jiang Cheng’s hand, but before he can take it back, Jiang Cheng grasps it again, with both of his hands this time. “No! Fuck, that’s not what I meant! It’s not too much! You’re not… it’s that I’m not enough.”

Lan Xichen opens his mouth to say something and Jiang Cheng keeps talking, desperate to explain, to make Lan Xichen understand that Jiang Cheng is the fucked up one. The one who will inevitably fuck this up, if they were to keep doing this. “I always say the wrong thing, as you can clearly see. I say things I don’t actually mean, things that hurt other people. And I’m so bad at dating, I never even made it into a relationship. I… I had a breakdown on your massage table, because I realised I have no meaningful human interactions anymore other than with people who have to, because they’re related to me, and even then… You should do this with someone who is kind and who is not…” Not me.

“But I like you.”

The words are sweet and simple. But they have the same effect on Jiang Cheng as Lan Xichen’s gentle massage: He wants to cry. ”But.. It’s… it’s only a matter of time before I fuck it up! Before I say something to hurt you.”

“You’ve only been kind to me.”

"I… What?" Jiang Cheng is not kind. He’s not nice to people. Only in secret, only under four layers of anger and annoyance. Why would Lan Xichen… Jiang Cheng is not kind.

Lan Xichen simply laughs instead of trying to explain why he would say such things. “So, I would like to keep ‘doing’ this. With you.”

Jiang Cheng wants to protest again, feels like he should, but Lan Xichen quickly keeps talking before he can do so. "However, I don't think I'm good with the uncertainty and… Hm… casualness that comes with dating. Which is probably why it got to me so much today. Not so much the environment, it was a lovely cafe. But I put pressure on myself to not show certain parts. To keep them hidden until... some arbitrary later part of the relationship, I suppose. Dating, to me, involves projecting a very specific version of yourself that doesn’t feel truthful or like it won’t withstand further scrutiny. It’s very… exhausting.”

“Honestly… I fucking hate dating.” Jiang Cheng mentally kicks himself. What a fucking excellent thing to say while on a fucking date. But Lan Xichen only looks amused.

“That’s a relief.” “Is it?”

“As I said - I like you. I like spending time with you. I like sharing dinner with you.”

“I also like that.”

“Holding hands is also nice.”

Jiang Cheng looks down at their hands. He feels flushed and a little shaky - he’s really not used to being so vulnerable, but it’s been like this with Lan Xichen from the beginning, hasn’t it? He didn’t even get a chance to pretend otherwise after all those tears he shed. There’s no point in taking it all back now. Not when Lan Xichen is being so open in return. So he intertwines their fingers, then lifts his eyes again. “I like it, too.”

Lan Xichen’s smile is small, unassuming, but it lights up his eyes and warms Jiang Cheng’s heart. Jiang Cheng… would like to be able to make sure this man can keep smiling like this.

“So… can we just continue doing that?”

“Holding hands?”

“That, too. I meant… having dinner, spending time together… And…” A hint of nervousness flashes across Lan Xichen’s face again. It sparks nervousness in JC, too. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself and rushing into anything is the last thing I want to do… but I don’t do well with uncertainty. So… I’m sorry, this is probably too much, too soon, but… I want to do this slowly, but I don’t want to do it casually.”

“Oh. Okay.” Lan Xichen still looks worried, so Jiang Cheng rushes to clarify: “I’m okay with that. I’d also like that. To do this. Slowly. But… whatever the opposite of casual is.”

Jiang Cheng cringes slightly, but Lan Xichen laughs, relief softening his features. Then Lan Xichen lets out a deep breath, relaxes his shoulders and smiles brightly. “I feel much better now.” He pulls Jiang Cheng’s hand over, so it’s resting in his lap.

Lan Xichen turns his head slightly and their eyes meet. Jiang Cheng suddenly has trouble breathing. It’s not just because Lan Xichen is incredibly attractive. It’s not just because of Lan Xichen’s beautiful smile or because he’s holding his hand and Jiang Cheng’s hand is touching his thigh. It’s because of those things but… Lan Xichen looks at him. He sees him and still wants to… It’s overwhelming. A part of Jiang Cheng wants to get up and run away, which is clearly not an option, so he does the next best thing he can think of to disrupt the terrifying intimacy of the moment.

“Your muffin.” Jiang Cheng gets the muffin from Lan Xichen’s bag and offers it to him. Lan Xichen tilts his head, slightly confused, but takes it with an appreciative hum.

They sit like this for a while, even after Lan Xichen finished eating his muffin, just enjoying their little dry space while the rain still comes pouring down around them. Jiang Cheng has calmed down, too. Now, he’s just… content to be here. After a while, he begins feeling chilly - he really needs to get out his winter coat soon - but he doesn’t want to disturb the peacefulness. His hand is warm and safe with Lan Xichen, that’s enough.

But he can’t suppress a shiver, when a cold breeze hits his neck. Lan Xichen turns his head and, before Jiang Cheng can laugh it off or something, he lets go of Jiang Cheng’s hand, unwraps his scarf and, ignoring Jiang Cheng’s protesting noises, gently wraps it around his neck.

He wants to protest more, return the scarf, but Lan Xichen’s warm gaze lingers on his face and his hands linger on the scarf, knuckles resting on Jiang Cheng’s chest. He can’t think of anything to say. Lan Xichen doesn’t say anything either, but he strokes his cheek, the other hand still holding on to the scarf.

Jiang Cheng would like to… He’d really like to…

Lan Xichen runs his thumb over Jiang Cheng’s lower lip. Jiang Cheng opens his lips, leans a little closer, as if under a spell. He wants to…

With a soft gasp Lan Xichen widens his eyes, then pulls back his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, please…” Jiang Cheng - boldly, foolishly - wraps his fingers around Lan Xichen’s hand, draws him back towards him. He wants…

Lan Xichen follows his pull until their linked hands are trapped between their chests. He looks down at him, looks at his lips. He smiles. Jiang Cheng closes his eyes, leans even closer, yearns to be enveloped by this warmth.

Lan Xichen kisses him carefully and gently. His lips are as soft as his smile, and he lets go of the scarf to tenderly cradle the back of Jiang Cheng’s head.

Somehow, it’s the easiest thing in the world to just… Let go. To let himself be kissed. To return the kiss, return the gentleness.

When they part, Lan Xichen laughs softly, cheeks flushed. But before Jiang Cheng gets distracted by his beauty, Lan Xichen hugs him. Wraps his arms around him and holds him close. Hides his head in the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck.

“Are you okay?” Jiang Cheng hesitantly strokes Lan Xichen’s back, worried that maybe the kiss was too much for him, or it made him sad or-

“Mhm. I’m just… grateful.” Lan Xichen lifts his head to press a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s cheek, tightens his arms around him, before letting go and sitting upright again.

Jiang Cheng slowly lowers his arms, a little stunned by those words. “Why? There’s no need... “

“Because kissing you was easy.” Lan Xichen’s mouth twists, as though he’s regretting his words. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds - “

“No, I understand exactly what you mean.” Jiang Cheng understands it too well and it pains him that Lan Xichen feels this way. But he’s also happy, because maybe he can now understand a little why Lan Xichen likes him, why he feels comfortable around him. “I understand it well. I’m also grateful.”

“Ah… I’m glad.�� Lan Xichen takes his hand again and Jiang Cheng immediately intertwines their fingers. Lan Xichen’s warm gaze rests gently on his face and playful smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Can I kiss you again?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother with words, he simply pulls him closer until their lips meet again.

This kiss, as well as the ones that follow, are just as easy.

#The Untamed #mdzs #Xicheng #cql #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #jiang cheng/lan xichen #modern au #To Meet You verse #betty drabbles

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monkeymindscream · 3 years

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1, 2, 11 and 28

Well this got long quickly...

1. How long ago did you discover The Dark Crystal, and how?

I wassssss three or four, I think? So over two decades ago by this point (because yo’ girl here is dusty). It was Easter and my aunt gave me THIS:

Before anyone asks: no, I did not dig this old-as-balls VHS out for the sake of this ask. It was already sitting in my room.

(Also I want everyone to know that I wonder every single day which skeksis that’s supposed to be on the cover. Is that supposed to be skekSil?? Is that Sil?? Why does he Look Like That???)

I had a very complicated relationship with this movie for most of my childhood, actually? Which - on that note - unnecessary tangential story time!

When me and my little sister ( @shuri-flurry ) were little, our parents used to take us to this video place to rent movies, yeah? And the place they’d take us to would frequently have The Dark Crystal playing on the TVs they had mounted towards the ceiling of the store. “Previewing the merchandise,” or something.

(Upon reflection, though, there was seemingly no reason for them to have had Dark Crystal playing. This would have been in the mid to late 90s, and therefore well after the movie had been released and needing to be advertised. So I’m not sure what the Video Vision employees thought they were doing there).

My little sister and I - despite having already seen the movie at this point and therefore knowing exactly what we were looking at - were royally freaked out. To the degree that for months afterwards we would be coming up with battle strategies in the car whenever we were taken to rent movies. Essentially, put your head down as soon as you walk through the door so you couldn’t see the TVs, and KEEP it down until you’d discerned whether or not Dark Crystal was playing and how much risk you were in of seeing a skeksis (as long as you couldn’t see them move you were safe).

Now, reading all of the above you’d think I didn’t like the move, right? Wrong! I loved the movie, and would watch in on loop. And my favorite part of it was, in fact, a fucking skeksis (which we’ll get to in a sec here). It’s just that for some ungodly reason, I was utterly terrified of the thing that brought me joy.

Figure that one out.

2. If you watched TDC as a child, who were your favorites then, and who are they now? If not, do you think that your child self would have enjoyed it?

My fave back in the day was our most beloved bastard, dear skekSil. For as much as the skeks freaked me out as a kid, I couldn’t resist falling in love with Sil. Mostly because my villain-lovin’ baby-heart felt incredibly bad for him. Not only was he picked on by the other skeksis (from a toddler’s point of view, at least), but when he talked to Jen and Kira, they were mean and ran away!! Even after he saved them from the Garthim!! RUDE you guys, not cool!!

(I knew that he didn’t have Jen and Kira’s best interests at heart when he was talking about “peace,” but I couldn’t quite comprehend it at that age. If that makes any sense at all.)

He’s still up there in my top 5, although now it’s because as an adult I can appreciate just how cutthroat and devious he is, all while doing it so... uniquely. In all of fiction, there’s only ONE Chamberlain.

He’ll be very aggrieved to know that he’s sharing the spotlight with several others now, though (all still skeks; don’t know if this counts as irony or just me upholding my brand):

SkekSo has clawed his way up the ranks, which knowing him either involved stalking his way up to the front of the line of potential faves and expecting everyone to just. Move out of the way for him (which, credit, they did), or it involved actual clawing. The emperor that AoR showed us would absolutely rip a bitch’s face off to bolster himself, and damn him, I adore him for it.

I’ve always had a soft-spot for scientists and abused underlings, and when you combine the two you get skekTek. Obviously he’s a fave. Honestly, his character is kind of more what my child-self had initially interpreted Sil to be, but with the addition of snapping under the abuse and violently committing murder (so he continues to check all my boxes!)

Is there a single person in this fandom who DOESN’T have skekGra somewhere on their list of favorite characters? Anyone? Because he’s certainly on mine.

Last but not least (none of these are in any kind of order, honestly), we’ve got skekLi, and Wig it is ENTIRELY your fault for this. I didn’t even need to meet him in canon - I didn’t even need to read the book he’s in (y’know, literally his only canon appearance???) because you swooped the fuck in and made him the most lovable creature in existence. The impudence.

11. Three favorite romantic ships?

Wig, why would you ask me a question you already know the answer to? You’re the reason I ship anything in this fandom, I was a blank slate before you. Have I not gushed enough? Have I left room for doubt in your mind?

Listing these in chronological order of when I got dragged in if anyone’s interested in knowing, here we go:

a. Li/Gra

When we first started talking, Wig sent me a variety of arts, right? Because she’s sweet like that. Among them was this, which I babbled in the tags on (jokingly, this was only supposed to be a JOKE!), and, in response, she sends me this. Then, while I’m floundering, she drops THIS on me. And then followed that up with about, ohhhh, three, four months? Of developing, pure, heart-wrenching ANGST.

And that’s how I got tricked into shipping Li/Gra.

b. Sil/Ung

This used to be a pairing I didn’t understand the hype for. Like... Yeah, okay, they had the rivalry thing going in the movie for all of five seconds, but apart from that I couldn’t comprehend any interesting ways their characters could bounce off each other. There was no chemistry as far as I could see.

Enter Wig, sliding into my DMs one day, sending me cute art. Then, after softening me up with this initial strike, she casually goes, “have you heard about this scrapped early plot idea in the novel where Zok initiates another trial by stone after Ung won the first one, and uses the reflection in his sword to break the rock leading to Ung being exiled too?”

And then, when I was weak, finished me off with "AU WHERE THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENS AND THEY HAVE TO BEGRUDGINGLY WORK TOGETHER TO GET BACK INTO THE CASTLE."

One dramatic reimaging of the movie, several instances of character development, and the dramatic culmination of all discussed -later, and I’m sobbing my entire shipping heart out.

And that’s how I got tricked into shipping Sil/Ung.

c. So/Li

This one I’ll accept partial responsibility for, since I was technically the one to go “hey wait-” over it, but I would have never stumbled on the realization if I’d never talked to Wig, so I’m still holding her accountable.

This all started when Wig reblogged this, and then we got talking about how this angle might affect Li’s relationship with So. Things escalate and then suddenly it hits me: A demanding, violent tyrant, and the ONE(1) asshole who is both not afraid to and routinely gets away with aggressively taking the piss outta him?? That is FANTASTIC. I’m only human for God’s sake how is one person supposed to be able to resist that kind of dynamic-??

And that’s how I- ah shit. I didn’t technically get tricked into this one, I played myself. My pattern is all thrown off.

28. If skekEkt wanted to design something especially for you, what would you ask him to make (formal wear, armor, an accessory etc.)?

Hooooo boy, okay, here’s the thing: I never know how to respond to people wanting to like... GIVE me things. Or DO things for me. And I don’t imagine I’d feel any less awkward when the person wanting to do things for me is a friggin’ skeksis, who aren’t known for their generosity. It’d make me feel like an exception and I don’t know if I could cope with that.

More to the point, I’m literally a cartoon character. Y’wanna know what my daily outfits usually consist of? I take t-shirts, sweatshirts, and sweatpants (or jeans if I’m going out) that are two or three sizes too big, and then I layer. I call it “I’ve rolled out of a dumpster please leave me to my business” -chic.

None of which meshes with Ekt’s brand of style at all. Nor does Ekt strike me as the type who’d tolerate his creative vision to being restricted in any form, if you catch my drift.

So not only am I awkward and uncomfortable with people doing things for me, but he’d be doing something for me where I wouldn’t know what to do with the finished product.

Just kill me it’d be so much easier.

#dark crystal #muttering about thra #thewiglesswonder

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grimmseye · 4 years

Text

A Bird in the Hand: Chapter Two

Read on Ao3 here!

Rating: T

Fandom: Critical Role

Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (eventual)

Chapter Characters: Mollymauk Tealeaf, Essek Thelyss

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Molly Rez, Amnesiac Mollymauk, Oh My God They Were Roommates, Nonsexual Nudity, Hair Brushing

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The chalk in his hand dragged smooth over the ground, leaving shimmering lines and rounds just above the surface they were marked against. Fifty gold pieces and a fifth level slot was entirely too much to make a trip home from within the city, but Mollymauk was in no condition to be walking there and Essek did not want to hire someone to take them.

The last line connected, the circle broke into solid, glowing violet. Essek stood and took Mollymauk by the wrist to pull him through. There was a sensation of dropping, falling forward and then being suddenly upright again and in another space, on the wooden floor of the small room he’d designated to his teleportation circle.

Molly staggered at his side, bracing one hand against the wall. “A little warning next time,” he breathed, shaking his head.

“My apologies,” Essek said, without remorse. “It can take some getting used to, if you haven’t done it before.”

Mollymauk only grumbled, taking a moment to catch his balance and his breath. Essek opened the door that lead out to a sitting room, designed for playing host to the formal gatherings his position sometimes sprang upon him. It connected from there to a dining room, and then a rarely-used kitchen. The dishes from Caduceus’ cooking remained, and abruptly Essek felt a warmth touch his cheeks. He was never messy, not where it could be seen, and yet Mollymauk’s first impression of him would be slobbish if the tiefling were to take just ten paces into the next room and peer through the entryway.

“You need a bedroom,” he declared, half a realization, half a distraction. Then he repeated, quieter, “You need a bedroom,” with all the weight such a statement carried.

He had bedrooms. They had never been used, but caution kept him prepared. Should he ever need to play host overnight, best to have something already in place rather than be caught off guard. Essek had not been off guard since he was a child learning his first spell.

Caught in his musings, Essek blinked and found Mollymauk startlingly close and staring up into his face. He drifted back on instinct, schooling his face into an affronted scowl. “Yes?” He said, pointed.

“Nothing,” Molly replied, eyebrows lifting. “You were just staring for a few seconds there, I was worried something came loose up top.” He tapped the side of his head twice and grinned. “So lemme ask you this, friend: how much of a guest versus a prisoner am I here?”

“You are not a prisoner,” Essek said, which wasn’t quite truthful. “For the time being, we want you under escort should you be outside of my property. This is standard procedure for released prisoners, even if I am vouching for you. It has the additional benefit of ensuring you won’t get lost.”

“Uh-huh,” Mollymauk nodded, his blasé tone of voice vexatious at best. “Lots of pretty words that translate to me still being a prisoner. I got that already, you don’t need to explain it again. I’m referring to my position within your property.” He paused, and then gave a slow smile that Essek couldn’t quite translate. “Am I your property?”

The meaning clicked into place. Essek’s ears folded back as he fought the urge to recoil. That look implied scandal, but mischief danced behind the eyes. Mollymauk was fucking with him.

He had certainly been a member of the Nein.

“No,” he said, his voice short and final. “You are free to explore anything within this house. There are towers outside which are designated to my own business, but you would be unable to enter them even if you should try. Please clean up any messes you make, and feel free to ask me any questions you may have.”

“Fantastic. So, first request: could I get a hairbrush?” Molly ran his fingers through his hair — or attempted to, at least. It was nearly matted. “I did end up losing mine on my way here, and then got arrested before I could purchase a new one.”

“Of course,” Essek nodded. After a beat, he realized he needed to show Mollymauk the way. “There is a guest bedroom — this way, upstairs — with a shower as well if you’d like to wash up.”

“Oh I would.”

“And I can clean whatever clothes you brought with you.”

“Excellent. I’ve only got two pairs. I’ll just leave this one outside the door then?” Molly motioned to himself. He wore traveler’s clothes, but even such sturdy material was wearing thin. Essek frowned, thinking of the other set he’d found, colorful and audacious and faring far worse. He would need new clothes, then. He would be needing many things.

That was what Essek pondered as he waited outside the bathroom door, until it cracked open for Molly to set his badly folded clothes out in the hall. He conjured an invisible servant to take care of the washing, and then immediately moved for the study to find a pen and a pad of paper.

Shopping List (Guest):

New clothes for Mollymauk

Make appointment

Ensure: warm/winter, rain, fine, sleep, and casual wear. Multiple pairs of shoes (hooves? Check this)

Groceries

Breakfasts:

Essek immediately paused. He could cook. He often chose not to. He certainly didn’t cook for other people.

Groceries — determine later

Luxuries? Ask Mollymauk his preferences.

Extra bedsets (2?)

He was going to be housing Mollymauk for the foreseeable future. He was going to have a full-time guest until the Nein returned, and last they left Xhorhas, they vanished without a trace for into a device named the Happy Fun Ball Slash The Archmage Bane and returned with their formerly-brainwashed friend. Essek was learning to expect the unexpected with that odd group.

Needless to say, he could not rely on an expedient return. So. A guest. Essek would need to entertain him. Ensure he was taken care of, and staying out of trouble. He would likely have to put aside his work to babysit this tiefling, who allegedly had amnesia and did not even know who the Nein truly were.

He didn’t realize he was wringing his hands until he felt the bite of his own nails. Essek took a breath. He could do this. He’d worn a facade since childhood, he could keep it up, full-time, in his own home, without breaks, indefinitely. Essek bowed his head and considered breaking into the fine wines.

The spiral was interrupted by the sound of clicking steps. Hooves, Mollymauk had hooves. Not all tieflings did.

Mollymauk was also naked in the doorway.

“How do you turn on the shower,” he asked, as Essek nearly threw his pen in his haste to turn away. He braced his elbow against the desk, a hand swinging up to shield his peripheral vision.

“You’re naked,” he stated, with false cheer.

Mollymauk clicked his tongue. “There weren’t any towels either.”

Essek very nearly slammed his head down into the desk. He stood up, unclasping his mantle in a rush and shifting towards Mollymauk to hold out the garment, waiting until he was certain through the corner of his eye that the tiefling was covered up to look at him. A dangerously polite smile was affixed to his face. “I will show you how to work the shower,” he said, ever helpful, ever calm.

“It’s appreciated.” Molly trotted back down the hall, somehow perfectly unbothered that Essek had seen exactly how far those tattoos reached. His ears flickered madly with the tiefling’s gaze off of him, trying to bat the embarrassed heat away.

It was a little gratifying when Molly nearly tripped on the length of his mantle.

Essek wrestled himself back into composure before he moved ahead, showing Mollymauk the individual crystals embedded in his shower wall and how they worked. “The large gemstone in the center here turns it on. Press it once for the faucet,” he demonstrated, a stream of water pouring out from the lower faucet at his touch. “And again for the shower. The one beneath it turns the water off. Here, this crystal is for temperature —”

It was all relatively simple. The crystal turned in place, its color flowing through a gradient of blue to purple to red depending on the water’s temperature. Even with the simplicity of the system, he was pleased to turn around and find Mollymauk wide-eyed and beaming up at him, tail curling with excitement.

“I could kiss you,” he declared. “You, sir, have just given me the greatest of gifts. I mean, there’s room for improvement. If you happen to have something more in the line of a spa, please let me know what I need to do to get that, but this? This will do just fine!”

Essek did, in fact, have something akin to a spa, but it was connected to his bedroom, and he was not about to offer up that space. “I am pleased that it’s to your liking,” he smiled. Then, serious again, “Please just leave my clothes outside the door, after I have left. I will bring a towel and a robe for you. Before I leave, is there anything else?”

Mollymauk poked his head into the shower with a hum. “Soap, shampoo, conditioner, check check and check. I am golden, my friend. You’re free to go.”

Thank the Luxon, Essek didn’t say, only dipping his head to drift back out of the bathroom. He stalled his servant from its task to bring a towel and robe up, returning to his study. Once he tackled a grocery list, he could hire someone to collect it all for him.

Essek found his statuette of an ivory raven, running a finger down its beak to bring it into flesh and feathers. It stood, attentive as he cleared his throat and dictated: “Seamstress Brirr, this is Shadowhand Essek Thelyss. I need to commission a full wardrobe for a guest, a tiefling. Do you have a slot tomorrow?”

Once the message was given and the recipient described, the bird took wing through a window and out into the city.

Down the hall, Essek heard the pattering of water stop. The door opened some minutes later, the sound of hooves announcing Molly wherever he went. At least Essek knew he could find him.

There was a short knock at the doorway. Essek turned, not without trepidation, and nearly sagged with relief to find Mollymauk wrapped in his robe, hair bound in a towel. “That was wonderful,” Mollymauk sighed, leaning against the frame. “I would have stayed longer but my hair is unforgivable.”

“A hairbrush,” Essek remembered, nodding. “Of course, let me get that for you. Just, ah, make yourself comfortable.” He’d evidently forgotten to stock the guest chambers properly. Embarrassment seized him again, something he tried to shake off with the reminder that at least it wasn’t Kryn nobility he was scorning. It could be far worse.

When he returned from his own quarters, Mollymauk had indeed made himself quite comfortable. He was sprawled in one of the armchairs, his robe falling open around the scarred chest, modesty protected by the tie that bound it shut. Molly’s eyes flicked up to him from where he’d been idly examining the bookcase, and he sat up with a grin. “Excellent, thank you,” he said, lifting both arms to curl his fingers in a way that said gimme.

Did Essek catch a wince, there? He frowned, noting that along with the scars there were fresh bruises on Mollymauk’s chest, creeping under the sleeve of his robe. As Molly began to pull his hair over one shoulder, there was a definite tension that pulled into his shoulders. His tail lay perfectly still, betraying nothing — and its quiet said far more about Mollymauk’s current state than if it had been lashing.

“You’re staring again,” Molly pointed out lightly. This time, Essek didn’t back down.

“You’re hurt,” he returned.

Molly widened his eyes in mock surprise, mouth opening as he breathed, “No, really?” He smirked at Essek’s flat expression. “Your friends were a bit rough with me. It wasn’t like they just frogmarched me to your prison, no, they had to get a good beating in first. Your little trick in the cell certainly didn’t help.” He snorted.

Essek’s ears folded down. He grimaced to himself, a pang of not guilt so much as regret needling at him. The Nein would not be happy with him. As much as they seemed willing to beat each other up, the moment another person laid a hand on them they were staring down a pack of snarling Moorbounders.

On an impulse, maybe pity, maybe a distant hope that Molly just won’t tell, Essek extended a hand. Molly furrowed his brow, slowly offering the hairbrush. With then, Essek dragged a footrest over with a beckoning motion, patting it and saying, “Sit here. Back to the chair, please.”

“You mind explaining?” Molly asked, but did as he was told. Essek took the seat he’d just occupied, frowning at the mess of hair. He’d once worn his own long, when he was younger. It had just been a very long time since he’d had to do more than tidy it upon waking.

Essek scooped a section of hair to his back again, holding it as he began to work the brush through the tips. Molly’s tail flicked, sitting up straight for a moment before the tension loosed from his shoulders. “Oh so you do know how to treat a guest right,” he purred.

“Was I treating you wrong before?” Essek demanded. He got to the first matted section, glad that Molly had wet his hair before this as he began to tease it apart with quick motions of the brush. “For the sake of my sanity, let’s judge my service as a host only from the point where you entered the property.”

“Wise decision,” Molly drawled. “... Mmmm, but for the most part I was only fucking with you. And believe me, with this all previous criticisms have been rescinded.”

“I would still like to know the criticisms,” Essek muttered, and only got a breathy laugh in response.

It was slow going, working through each mass of tangles without ripping his hair. It needed to be trimmed as well, uneven and broken at the tips. A shower had done him well, but a single wash hadn’t been enough to undo neglecting it for so long, oil still streaking the roots of his hair as Essek ran the brush through them. Mollymauk tipped his head into it, an angle were Essek could see his face, eyes shut and lips parted.

“Do you prefer your hair loose?” Essek asked, setting the brush down. He took up his notepad again, adding haircut to the list.

Mollymauk hummed as he ran his fingers through it. “I think so. Let’s try it. Where’s the rest of my stuff, by the way?”

As Essek halted his servant’s work again to bring Molly’s belongings up, he laid out tomorrow’s itinerary. The raven returned, delivering Brirr’s response. They would get Mollymauk’s measurements taken care of, purchase some sets of casual clothing until the new outfits were finished, visit a place to get Mollymauk a haircut.

The bag was brought up partway through the conversation. Molly frowned, his hands pausing as he dug through it. Tarnished jewelry, a pouch of incense, a brooch depicting a draconic god. He produced a rusted metal helmet that made Essek blurt out, “Why do you have that?” and Molly tip his head back, shrug his shoulders, and say, “I have no fucking idea.”

His snickering nearly made Essek join in, smiling faintly at this… bemusing creature. He knew very little of this person from the Nein’s brief allusions to him. Assuming he was even the same person, memories of his companions gone but still understanding facts of the world. Had Mollymauk Tealeaf been this to them, someone who could make you bristle as easily as laugh, a disarming union between sincerity and utter bullshit.

He was frowning, now, staring at the emptied bag and all the little trinkets he’d removed from it. Essek cleared his throat, asked, “Is something missing?”

“My scimitars,” Mollymauk said, immediately. Tiefling ears weren’t as expressive as elven, but they flexed backwards in a familiar manner. “I was buried with two scimitars, I had them when I was arrested, and now I don’t have them.” His tail curled and then lashed to the other side of his body, the spaded tip brandished like a knife.

Essek made a private note: inquire about Mollymauk apparently waking up in his grave. He was beginning to understand now why the Nein connected talk of the Beacons to this person.

“What if we do this,” he started, weighing his chin on his fist. “I will drop you off at a local spa tomorrow, and while you get cleaned up, I can return to the Shadowspire to reclaim your weapons.” And examine them for any odd enchantments.

Molly turned his head back, an odd sort of smile on his face. “That will do,” he said, simply. Then he rose to his feet, stretching, and turned to fully face Essek. “Now then. Why don’t you show me to my bedroom, good sir. You would think after waking in the dirt I’d be done with sleeping.”

“A bed is superior to a grave, I would think,” Essek murmured, standing with him. “Not that I have the experience to compare.”

Mollymauk barked out a laugh. Essek showed him to one of the spare bedrooms, promising to have his clothes clean and dry by morning. As he was turning to move back down the corridor, hoping to get some work done before settling down for his own meditation, he was stopped by a touch to his arm.

Essek shifted away from it, finding Mollymauk’s hand outstretched. He was still smiling, a softer thing now that it was weighed with exhaustion. “Thank you,” Molly said, emphasizing each word. Then he shut the door.

Essek stared at it for a long moment before nodding to himself. He drew a deep breath, moving down the hallway and outside, towards his laboratory. As much as Caleb and Nott assured him the mishap had been a result of a curse, Essek wasn’t satisfied. Perhaps he could find a way to make the spell dig deeper.

And perhaps he could take a breath and prepare himself for his next day playing host to Mollymauk Tealeaf.

#Mollymauk Tealeaf #essek thelyss #shadowmauk #widomauk #shadowgast #shadowwidowmauk #calebessekmollymauk #they need a ship name folks #cr #cr2 #cr fic #my writing #mollymauk #essek

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globgor-of-mewnie · 5 years

Text

Since When Has Our Relationship Ever Been Easy?

Okay, SO. I have grown to the point where I feel like song fics cause your work to be taken a little less seriously. It dates the work and can make it appear a little jarring. Of course, this doesn’t apply to work based off a song, but rather trying to insert lyrics into your writing in order to set a certain mood or, really, you just like the song.

Where am I going with this? Well, I guess it’s karaoke time, because I have to insert a song into this chapter. I tried everything I could think of to not use it, but there’s going to be singing involved at some point, and I’m not creative enough to write a song! I’ll go into more details at the end of the chapter, lest I spoil what happens with this introduction. Take care and enjoy!

*Also please let me know if the extra spacing between the dialogue in this chapter bugs you guys. It takes a little extra time to get it with less space, but if that’s how you guys prefer it, I’ll be happy to oblige!

Ages:

Globgor: 9

Eclipsa: 8

Prologue/CH1/CH2/CH3

CH3-Among the Enemy

Among the Enemy

It seemed no matter where she went, Eclipsa was a stark contrast to everyone around her. Whether it be with her friends, her family, or in this case, the guards who stood valiantly along the halls of her home. They remained stoic and unmoving, even as the princess skipped happily through the carpeted corridors. Sure, she tried waving to them once or twice, but as usual, she was ignored. Most adults seemed to enjoy doing that. Blowing her off like some sort of fly. She never really understood that. Wasn’t she going to be queen one day? Shouldn’t people be giving her some attention?

Then again, maybe her invisibility was actually a blessing considering all the mischief she had been getting in to as of late.

She stopped at her destination-a simple door that worked as a sort of supply closet for all the magical doohickeys Glossaryck left lying around. Her mom had told her magical mentor to pick up after himself, but so far he had yet to comply. So the queen usually just wound up getting the servants to toss his junk in here.

Much to Eclipsa’s delight.

She rubbed her hands together eagerly as opened the door. As expected, none of the guards paid her any mind. There was nothing in there that could be considered dangerous. It was filled with a bunch of junk, like apples that could sing in a foreign language, or sock puppets that held staring matches. Annoyances rather than weapons. But what was one queen’s trash, was another princesses’ treasure!

Eclipsa turned on the lantern that hung from the ceiling as stepped inside. She pushed some junk aside, wanting to make some room. Almost immediately, all the magical items that could talk started to chatter. The clock that snored, the hairbrush that brushed its teeth while whistling, the gloves that never stopped clapping, the list was endless. However, as fun as all these gimmicks were, there was one object the princess was searching for in particular.

“Aha! Got you!” She stood on her tip toes in order to reach behind the mirror that showed you what you would look like if you were the opposite gender and pulled out a music box. It was a white box that glittered like a pearl. It had several knobs on the lid, each channeling a different song. Not just any songs though. These were songs that came from other dimensions. Some of them weren’t even written yet in their world and were pulled out from the future!

Eclipsa hummed happily to herself as she sat the box down on the dresser that ate your clothes. As much as she loved hearing some of that hard-hitting music that made her want to swing her head around, she was in more in the mood for something softer at that moment. She reached for the fancy knob on the right hand corner and opened the lid. Because she had chosen an elegant song, a small ballroom dancer appeared when she opened the lid. Both she and the dancer gave a little bow to each other before the doll began her song.

Eclipsa swayed to the music, humming along to the song she had heard many times. She imagined dancing in the middle of the forest with a bard playing nearby. After all, it would be much more fun to dance around nature and life rather than the stuffy balls the Butterflys were notorious for throwing. Much more room out beyond the castle walls. Not to mention much more excitement.

A small smile appeared on her face as she imagined a dance partner to share this song with. Of course the first person she thought of was her secret monster friend. Ha! The very thought of Globgor dancing was priceless! He was much too serious to do something like that! She doubted he had an elegant bone in his body. He was always too dirty and grouchy. She liked him anyway though. She could tell he was a nice guy because he often brought over monster things during their secret meetings for her to see. He showed her their books, their games, their clothes, their customs, all sorts of things. She always made sure to return the favor of course, even though he acted like he had no interest in her culture. He made it very clear to her that although he made an exception for her, he still despised all Mewmans.

Oh Globgor. She was sure if he would just take the time to have some fun, he wouldn’t be such a grump. He was way too invested in all the arguing adults got into. He was almost as bad as the princesses of the Butterfly allies. Still though, at least he gave her the time of day, something she couldn’t say about….well, most people in her life!

“Hey Glossaryck, is that you in the-“

Eclipsa halted her twirling as someone unexpectedly entered the room. It was a strange looking woman with white skin, long red hair, and golden eyeballs. The minute their gazes locked, the intruder swore under her breath before turning tail in the opposite direction.

“Hekapoo!” Eclipsa shut the box and raced after the woman. She saw her walk down the hallway, pushing the rest of the High Commission with her. They were speaking in loud whispers, leaving the woman to shrug her shoulders in defense. “Hey guys! Wait up!”

The group tried to speed up, only for the princess to run around them and plant her feet firmly on the ground, her eyes locked on them.

A look of defeat crossed the members’ features before the big skull guy called Omnitraxus Prime spoke. “Ah Princess….we didn’t see you there!”

“Yes you did.”

“Well, okay it was more like we didn’t want to see you,” Reynaldo the Bald Plate said before earning a jut from Hekapoo’s elbow. The giraffe man shrugged as if to say ‘well it’s true’.

“Baaaaaah,” the goat demon Lekmet cut in.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” The crystal-head guy named Rhombulus gave a pointed look towards the young girl. “So uh…Princess Eclipsa, is there something we can do for you?”

Eclipsa paused. “Well…..how are you guys?”

They all stared at her with blank expressions. They turned to confusion as they looked at one another.

“What does she mean by that?” whispered Rhombulus.

“Not sure. I don’t think we’ve included her in our battle strategies.” Omnitraxus looked over at his goat accomplice. “Lekmet, check our rosters. She is quite small. Maybe we just didn’t notice her.”

“Baaaaah.”

Rhombulus raised one of his snake hands.“Lekmet says a good leader should know who’s attending a meeting, who could be attending a meeting, and who already had attended a meeting at all times. A roster is nothing more than a cheat sheet for lazy planning.”

“He ate it, didn’t he?” Hekapoo quipped.

“Guys, guys!”

Everyone turned back to look at Eclipsa as she frantically waved her hands back and forth. “I wasn’t referring to the war! I just wanted to know how you guys were doing in general!”

A pause.

“……Why?” Reynaldo inquired.

Eclipsa sighed. “Well, it’s just that, every time you guys show up here, you meet with my mom and then immediately leave. How come you guys never hang around? I mean, you do for big events, but-“

“What is she talking about?” Omnitraxus whispered, as if the princess wouldn’t be able to hear him if he softened his voice.

Instead of answering him, Hekapoo raised a hand. “Princess, I’m gonna stop you right there. Our job is to monitor and regulate the magic throughout the multi-dimensions. Our association is with the queen. We’re not here to sit and chat with the rest of the family.”

“But I’m going to be queen one day!”

“And when that happens, you’ll see so much of us it’ll be nauseating.�� Omnitraxus said, his voice condescending. “Until then, well, we really have no need to associate with you.”

“….” Eclipsa folded her arms and looked dejectedly off to the side. “….You know, I really don’t have many friends here. Everyone is so obsessed with the war. No one is interested in just hanging out, talking, or having fun. It’s like no one has the time to be happy.” She made a noise of frustration as she turned to face the window reflecting to her left.

“Mom says that we fight to stay alive, but what’s the point of that if we don’t do anything with our lives? It’s like we fight to live so we can live to fight! Is anyone actually interested in winning this thing? Who exactly is my mother if not the valiant she-knight revered by her people? And what will I be-“

….

Her words halted as she turned to see the High Commission had fled the area, leaving her to stand alone.

…..

Her head sank as she tightly gripped her right arm. She had actually surprised herself with the amount of insight she had spilled on the group of magic leaders. She had always known she hated the war, but she had never put her feelings into detail before. It wasn’t just about no one having time for her. She was tired of seeing everyone so angry and miserable all the time. This war had been going on her whole life. Would it go on for the rest of it? Would everyone be unhappy forever?

Eclipsa sighed as she made her way over to the window. She cupped her cheeks and leaned her elbows on the sill. How she wished Globgor was available to hang out that day. It was amazing that he was so involved in the war she despised, yet he still made time to meet with her once a week. It was always random days, as Globgor thought it would look too suspicious if he disappeared around the same time every week. This week they had planned to meet on Friday. Stupid ‘ol four days away Friday.

Ugh, she didn’t want to wait that long! She really missed him! She wanted them to play together! She wished she could just go say hi to him, but no doubt the other monsters would be pretty mad about her being there. Plus she really didn’t want to get him in trouble.

…..

Her eyes brightened. She released a happy gasp before quickly heading off to her bedroom.

___

A Mewman named Hue grunted in dismay as he landed face-first in the mud in front of him. He swore he could hear the animals of the forest giggling to himself as scrambled back to his feet and wiped himself off. This was just not turning out to be his day. How could he have gotten so lost? Ugh, it was all his cousin’s fault! Why did he have to give him such a crummy map? It was like a two-year-old drew this thing!

He groaned as he kicked off some aquatic creature from his boot. He pulled out his map and studied it closely. He had no idea which part of the territory belonged to monsters and which one to Mewmans. How was he not good enough to get a ride to his destination? Did one have to be a soldier in order to get a little respect in the kingdom? Why, without him and his scholarly knowledge, his village would be left-

Shink!

“……” Hue stared in disbelief at the spear that not only shot through his map, but went straight through his chest. He gave a watery gasp as he watched helplessly at the red stain growing over his shirt. He tried to speak up, give some sort of vocal protest over having been slain in such a way, but his body collapsed and shut down before he could get a word out.

___

“This string bean is what you stalked after for the last half hour?”

Globgor was clearly unimpressed as Tigre, the red, bipedal tiger monster with blue stripes, walked over to the hunted Mewman and retrieved his spear. “I mean, look at how thin he is! That’s not going to feed our soldiers and their families!”

“Hey, more meat is more meat,” Tigre retorted. He spoke with an accent similar to Globgor’s, and matched him in terms of height and build. He bound the Mewman’s ankles with rope so he could drag him back to the village.

Globgor smirked and looked back at the much larger game, which he was also dragging along. “Everyone back home is hungry. Your little entre just made them have to wait longer. My game is more than enough!”

Tigre rolled his eyes, but smiled regardless. “Yeah, that’s why you came to my house begging me to go hunting with you, right?”

Globgor smacked him on the head with his tail. “I do not beg. I said an extra pair of hands would be helpful. That’s it!”

“I’m pretty sure you threw in a ‘please’ in there somewhere.”

This banter continued until they got home and delivered their Mewmans. The chefs and cooks took them gratefully, and got ready to prepare them along with the other hunted trespassers.

“Can you believe your idea has completely changed the menu for monsters?” Tigre gave the Size-Shifter a playful shove on the shoulder. “Not only are Mewman numbers going down, but our resources are completely stocked!”

Globgor raised his left eyebrows. “Do I hear an actual compliment coming from you?”

His friend shrugged and pointed to a few adult monsters giving the Size-Shifter admiring glances. “I may as well join the crowd. You’ve gained a lot of respect over the past year, and your size changing powers haven’t even kicked in yet!”

“Um, my growing abilities haven’t kicked in, you mean. I can still shrink to the size of an ant!”

“Right. Impressive,” the other said with an eye roll.

“It is impressive! You’d be surprised how much you can do when nobody can see you!”

Tigre shrugged. “Maybe, but monsters won’t be able to look up to you if they have to look down at you, y’know?”

“…..” Globgor folded his arms behind his head and tried to hide a smile. “…I don’t’ care if the other monsters look up to me or not. I’m just here to do my part.”

“Oh Globgor, you’re so noble.” Tigre mocked while batting his eyes at him.

“I mean, I’m not saying I don’t like it-“

“-Which is why it’s going to suck when I grow stronger than you, and I become the hero of monsters!” Tigre goaded while jutting the other with his elbow.

Globgor smiled at the challenge. “Haha, right. Didn’t we just discuss how one day I’m going to grow to the size of a giant?”

“Well, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

Their grins grew as their eyes narrowed at each other. Nothing else needed to be said. They knew what came next.

The stiffed their stances, posing as if they were getting ready to square off. Then they both threw their tails out and latched on to the other’s. They grit their teeth as they proceeded to wrestle with their tails, gearing to dominate the other with their strength.

“Give it up, Tigre! Even if I don’t beat you today, one day I’ll be able to grow my tail and snap yours in half!”

“Oh yeah? And what if you never learn how to grow? Have you considered that?”

“Of course I will! All Size-Shifters learn once they go through puberty!”

“How do you know? The only source you have for Size-Shifters was an old guy who-“

Both monsters paused their battle. Globgor looked away, a perplexed look on his face.

Tigre loosed his grip, his ears flattening against his head. “Oh hey man, I didn’t mean-“

The boy’s words were cut off as Globgor suddenly tightened his grip on the other’s tail and flipped him over on his rump. Before he could get back up, the other boy placed a three-toed foot firmly on his chest.

“You’ll never get stronger if you let your guard down like that.”

“Oh come on, Globgor. You have to admit that was a little underhanded!”

Both boys looked up to see a girl with a purple cloak pulled over her head. Her face was green and she had red speckles across her face. Her eyes were chastising, but she was smiling nonetheless.

Tigre allowed Globgor to help him to his feet while he inspected the girl. “That’s right. ‘Ol Glob-Glob isn’t as valiant as he looks at first.” He looked over at the monster in question “What gives, man? I thought I was the only friend you had in the village.”

Globgor shrugged. “I don’t know this girl.”

“I’m from a village not too far from here!” the girl said, a sneaky smile on her face. “I heard about the super awesome Globgor and came to see for myself!”

Tigre raised an eyebrow at the bewildered Size-Shifter. “That right?”

“You’ve….heard about me?” If he was being honest, the news was flattering. He approached the girl with a confident expression. “Um, mind telling me what you heard?”

The girl giggled. “I’ve heard that you’re very strong and loyal to your people! You work very hard each and every day! In fact, the only thing that can break that iron wall you keep around yourself is a sweet, chocolatey snookers bar!”

…..

Globgor’s smile disappeared. He felt his stomach drop as he inspected the face of the stranger closer. He could practically feel the color drain from his face once he realized that the green in the girl’s face wasn’t skin, but paint….

No. Surely not. Even she wasn’t this stupid.

The girl smiled again and gave him a small wave. “Hi Globby!”

CRAP!

“Y-You…!”

Behind him, Tigre released a resounding laugh. “Dude, did she just call you ‘Globby’? Ha! I need to remember that one! It’s so cute!”

Globgor pushed down his indignation as he tightly grabbed on to the girl’s shoulders. “Um, I’ll be right back! The girl and I need to have a talk.” In a flash, the monster dragged the stranger through the village to a secluded place behind a house. Immediately he slammed her against the wall, his four eyes glaring daggers at the imposter.

“Are you out of your mind?!!” He yelled as loud as he dared lest someone heard him.

The girl pouted at him. “I thought you’d be happy to see me!”

“Why on mewni would you think that, Eclipsa?!” He covered his mouth once he realized he said her name. He looked around, making sure no one had heard him. Oh, he couldn’t imagine what would happen if everyone found out the Mewman princess among them. No doubt she’d be killed or captured in ten seconds flat.

He glared at the girl. “We agreed to meet this Friday! Last time I checked, it wasn’t Friday!!”

“But I wanted to see you now.” Eclipsa insisted. “I’m so lonely back at the Butterfly Castle.”

Globgor gave her a mocking pout. “Oh. Is the poor princess bored?” He glared at her, baring his fangs. “Well, we’re hungry, cold, sleep-deprived, and above all, scared! So excuse me if I’m a little less than sympathetic!”

Eclipsa frowned at him before her bottom lip began to quiver. She turned around so that she wasn’t facing him. “You don’t have to make me feel bad. I know you work very hard. It’s just…you’re the only friend I have.”

“That’s sad, but not in the way you’re thinking.” The boy groaned as he noticed the tears appearing in the other’s eyes. “Oh come on now, don’t start crying.”

“I’m not…” she mumbled, wiping at her eyes.

Globgor dragged his hands down his face with an exaggerated sigh. “Look, I’m sorry for yelling at you, but what you’ve done is incredibly dangerous for both of us!”

The boy didn’t notice the satisfied smile that appeared on the girl’s face as the boy caved in to her crocodile tears. She turned back to him with a soft smile. “But you actually know me, and you didn’t recognize me! Look, I have my cheek marks covered! No one will know it’s me!” She shrugged. “Besides, even if they do find out, they should be okay with me since they like you and I’m your friend!”

Globgor rubbed his lower eyes in exhaustion. “Eclipsa, you don’t know how wrong you are.”

Eclipsa looked hurt. “You’re not my friend?”

“Of course I’m your friend! I wouldn’t be risking my neck to hang out with you if I wasn’t!” He gave her a hard stare. “But there’s no way I can choose you over them. I promised to be there for my people. If you get found out, I don’t know what I can do to protect you.”

Eclipsa smiled and grabbed his hands. “Don’t worry, it won’t come to that!”

“Won’t come to what?”

The two children looked to the side to see a young pink cat monster walking up to them with a basket in her paws. She looked between the two with wide, blue eyes.

“P-Puma!” Globgor squeaked, putting a little space between him and Eclipsa. “Um…we were just…uh…”

“How do you do?” Puma seemed to have forgotten her question as made her way over to the disguised princess, causing Globgor to stiffen with fear. “Have we met before?”

Eclipsa smiled and shook her head. “No, I’m from a different village. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Puma!”

The feline gasped as she look at Globgor in surprise. “Oh my goodness! This visitor knows my name! I feel so special!”

“Puma, I just said what your name i-“

“I made muffins filled with nuts!” Puma turned back to the girl and held up her basket. “I’ve been passing them out to villagers! Would you like one?”

“Thank you!” Eclipsa took one and took a bite. It certainly wasn’t as sweet as treats back at the castle, but that didn’t make it necessarily bad. It was warm and had a sort of comforting clasp on her taste buds. “Mmm! Tasty!”

“That’s so nice of you to say!” Puma said, placing a paw to her chest.

Eclipsa gave her a bright smile. She was doing her best to play natural, but inside she was brimming with excitement. She had just received a gift from a monster! She was having a polite conversation with one! This was something most Mewmans said was impossible. Why wasn’t it something more people tried to do?

She was interrupted from her thoughts as Globgor suddenly came up behind her and began to push her away. “Well, thanks for the snack Puma, but she really has to go now! We’ll have to catch you later!”

“Already? She just got here,” Tigre said, suddenly approaching the two while giving Eclipsa a skeptical look.

Globgor waved a hand. “Yes, but it’s a long way back to her village, and she needs to get back before dark!”

“How do you know?” Tigre asked.

“I just know! What’s with all the questions?!”

“Why are you acting so skittish?”

Eclipsa bit her lower lip as she watched the boys argue. Shoot. She hadn’t meant to get Globgor so riled up. Why couldn’t he just relax? She wasn’t afraid, so he shouldn’t be either.

She ginned widely as she looked at the monsters roaming around in all different shapes and sizes. Well, okay maybe she wasn’t feeling relaxed. Rather, she was itching to go around and see what she could. She had never seen so many monsters in her life. She was surprised by how….normal they seemed. Oh sure, they looked nothing like her kind, but she could see a mother with her baby, two boys rough-housing nearby, and a woman tending her garden. These were all things she could easily see by looking out a window back at the castle. Who knew the two races partook in every days that were parallel to each other’s?

Unable to help herself, Eclipsa rushed out into the streets, wanting to get a better look.

“Look, I swear I don’t know this girl!” Globgor promised, throwing his arms up at the two feline siblings. “But you know I tend to make it my responsibly to look after my fellow monsters. That’s why I want to get her home before it becomes too late to get her to safety! I just want to make sure she’s safe!” He turned around….to see that the girl was no longer beside him.

…..

“I’m gonna kill her!!!” he roared.

___

Eclipsa was unable to keep the smile off her face as she made her way through the town of monsters. It was so surreal! Sure, there was a rough-looking guy here and there, but everyone else seemed so friendly! Every time she waved to someone, they would smile and wave back. It was all so amazing!

As well as….confusing. Her mom had always said the only thing a monster could feel was greed and bloodlust. So, why did these monsters act so much like Mewmans? They played together, talked together, did business together….

A sudden thought occurred to the princess. Stopping in her tracks, she closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. She paid no mind to her eyesight and decided to rely entirely on her ears.

……

“…..Hey Mom, is it okay if Gingy stays a little longer?”

“-on my mother’s grave, the fish was THIS big! If I had a stronger net, I would be a hero right-“

“-found this tea that will go perfectly with that salad you put together-“

“-don’t want to go yet, Daddy! Just five more min-“

“-has your eyes!”

“-love your shoes!”

“-see you tomorrow!”

…..

….!

Eclipsa was floored. In her mind, she wasn’t currently in a village filled with monsters. Rather, she was back at home, walking among her own kind. Nothing she was hearing could make her see differently! This didn’t make any sense. If everyone hated each other so much, why were they-

Her eyes flew open as she was suddenly struck with a ball to the face. She fell over, groaning a bit as stars flew over her head. Luckily she had enough sense in her to keep her hood on, lest anyone see her Mewman hair.

“Oh, sorry about that!”

Eclipsa sat up to see three different monsters-a lizard girl, a frog boy, and some red one-eyed thing-look at her with concern.

“I didn’t mean to hit you! I guess I don’t know my own strength sometimes!” the lizard girl said with a sheepish grin.

“I told her Suzie she was going to wind up hitting someone!” the frog boy hugged.

“Oh, get off my back, Todd!”

“Hey, it’s okay, really!” Eclipsa stood up, holding the ball in her hands. “No harm done! What were you guys playing anyway?”

“Just a little game of pass-along,” the red kid said.

“’Pass-along’? Are you kidding? We have that game back at the ca-I mean, my village!”

“No kidding?” Suzie said with a laugh. “Well heck, up for a round? The game is more fun with four players anyway!”

“Can I?!” Eclipsa practically jumped.

“Yeah, come on! Over here!”

Eclipsa gleefully joined the three monsters and formed a circle with them. It was a pretty lazy game where all you did was put your fists together and pass the ball to other members by hitting it. If you tried to pass it to someone and they missed, they were the ‘loser’ and had to sit out for the remainder of the round. Despite the simplicity, the princess was overjoyed to be playing with a group of kids her age. It’s something she had been wanting for a very long time.

They all seemed to be enjoying themselves as they passed the ball to each other, doing an excellent job at keeping it in the air. As it turned out, the red monster was the first one to miss the ball.

Then things got awkward.

“Oooh! You’re out, Fred!” Todd said, pointing at said monster.

Suzie giggled as she tightened the circle of the group and grabbed the ball. “You’re the rotten Mewman, Fred! Park yourself off to the side so we can continue!”

“…” Eclipsa lowered her hands as she felt her joy diminish by the monster’s words. “…’Rotten Mewman’?”

Suzie shrugged. “Yeah, you know, the loser? Do they not have that in your village?”

“Um…” Eclipsa looked off to the side, not knowing how to respond to the girl’s words. “Well…that’s kind of mean, don’t you think?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Fred said with a wave. “It’s just a game. I don’t mind being called a Mewman.”

“Can’t we play this game without insulting Mewmans though?”

The children went silent.

Suzie was the first to speak, cutting the air with a laugh of disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Why shouldn’t we insult them? That’s the least they deserve after all they’ve done to us!”

Eclipsa’s heart sank. “I…don’t think that’s entirely fair. I mean, monsters have hurt them too-“

“Oh my gosh, are you actually defending them?” Todd said, backing away with the other two kids.

“But it’s true! Monsters have hurt Mewmans too!”

“Because Mewmans started it!” Suzie said, stomping her foot. “Monsters were here on Mewni first, and Mewmans forced them to leave their homes!”

“Monsters didn’t stand a chance!” Fred added. “They had magic and we didn’t!”

“They took our land, so now we’re barely scraping by with our food!” Todd said, clenching his fists tightly. “And they won’t rest until they’ve stolen every inch of land and killed us all!”

“That’s not true!” Eclipsa said, genuine tears starting to rise in her eyes.

“Oh no? You can seriously look at Solaria and say that’s not what she’s doing?” Suzie demanded.

Eclipsa opened her mouth to deny the claims….but stopped. Her mind went over the times she had caught her mother making battle plans with the High Commission. All the red circles she would scribble over the map…..She had always known that that those were lands her mother had planned to conquer, but….she’d never thought of them as people’s homes.

Of course she knew that monsters had inhabited Mewni first, but….they were….evil….No. They were just like Mewmans. She saw that today. So…if the Mewmans misunderstood the monster’s intentions from the beginning….

….did that mean that the war was all the Mewmans fault?

Eclipsa felt glued to the ground as the monster children decided to leave her, muttering that they didn’t want to play with a Mewman-sympathizer. She gripped her arms tightly, suddenly feeling very cold. It was like a veil had been lifted from her eyes. All her life she thought it was the monsters attacking and causing Mewmans to fight back with a vengeance. Causing her mom to fight.

Now so many pieces were starting to connect.

Her pupils shook as she took a second look around at the monsters inhabiting the village. She had been wrong before. There was one key difference between the two races.

There weren’t any Mewmans shivering on the sidewalk.

There weren’t any injured Mewmans sitting nearby without any bandages.

There weren’t Mewmans moving off to the side so they could vomit in peace.

The Mewmans didn’t eat the tiniest portions of food she had ever seen in her life.

The Mewmans weren’t living in broken houses.

The Mewmans weren’t suffering like the monsters were.

That…..that wasn’t fair.

No…

The bad guys….were the Mewmans.

Eclipsa covered her mouth as she sat down on a bench resting nearby. Had the signs always been there? Had she just ignored them? Sure, she actively tried to not pay attention to the war, but never would she have guessed that it was her own people who were causing all the misery in Mewni. Her poor mother. She probably had no idea how screwed up everything was. She needed to say something. She had to tell her people that the monsters weren’t that different from them after all.

….But how could she do that without revealing she had been in monster territory? What if the High Commission found out? What if her mother did? They’d lock her away for the rest of her life! Worse, she’d may be unable to see Globgor ever again! What could be a more tragic fate than that?

No, she’d have to find another way to help the monsters. A discrete way. Maybe with Globgor’s help. He could be her connection to the monster world. She’d think of ways to make up for the carnage. She just wished there was something she could do right now to help them a little….

….

As if the Stump itself decided to answer her prayers, her mauve eyes landed on an abandoned guitar sitting nearby.

___

“-rip her stupid spades off then use them as a sleeping mask!” Globgor was in a foul mood to say the least. He had spent the better half of an hour trying to find his so-called friend before she did something to get herself killed. Did that girl ever think? Like, ever? Why was it she never took potential threats seriously? Did she really think she was immune to the deep-seeded hatred between their races?

He was about to take another search around the block, when he bumped into a random monster. He was about to apologize when he noticed that many monsters were headed in the same direction he was. In fact, he was the only one heading in the opposite direction. Where was everyone going?

His ears pricked up at the faint sound of….singing? Who was singing? Nobody in his village sang as far he knew. He turned in the direction of the noise, furrowing his brow in concentration.

“Dreams to dream. In the dark of the night, when the world goes wrong, I can still make it right. I can see so far in my dreams. I’ll follow my dreams until they come true~.”

…..Okay, Globgor had little to no experience with music, but this was the most melodic sound he’d ever heard in his life. He turned around and followed the rest of the monsters who were crowded around the source of the magical sound. He took the opportunity to shrink to a miniscule size so he could squeeze past the others. Once he reached the front, he returned to his normal size, his widened at the sight before him.

Eclipsa was sitting a bench with a guitar, singing to her captivated monster audience.

“Come with me. You will see what I mean. There’s a world inside no one else ever sees. You will go so far in my dreams. Somewhere in my dreams, your dreams will come true~.”

….How….what….Eclipsa could sing?! And play guitar?! Like really really good?! Like, he could feel her voice working as some sort of balm over his aching muscles. He had never heard a sound so pleasing to his ears before. Before he knew what he was doing, he closed his eyes so he could concentrate more on her voice.

“There is a star waiting to guide us waiting to guide us, shining inside us, when we close our eyes~!”

Globgor gasped as his friend hit a high note at the end. It sent shivers down his spine.

“Don’t let go! If you stay close to me in my dreams tonight, you will see what I see. Dreams to dream, as near as can be, inside you and me, they always come true~.”

Globgor opened his eyes as his village applauded the stranger’s song, clearly having enjoyed someone taking the time to give them a show. He watched as the princess stood up, giving a little bow.

It was only when their eyes locked did he realize that tears had appeared in his eyes.

___

“I’m telling you, I just got some dirt in my eyes!”

“All four of them?”

“It happens!”

Eclipsa pushed his shoulder, giggling to herself as she made her way through the forest fauna. “Why is it so hard for you to admit your more sensitive feelings?”

Globgor grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, I already admitted you have talent. What more do you want from me?”

Eclipsa’s smile softened as her eyes became downcast. “Well…next time we meet, I’m going to do better than a song. I’ll bring you some food and stuff to give to your people. I want to do what I can to help them. That’s all I can do right now until I’m queen.”

“……” Globgor cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “….Thanks Eclipsa. That means a lot to me.” His face became uncharistically soft as he looked her up and down. “Are you uh….okay?”

She nodded despite the sad smile on her face. “Yeah….I guess I just didn’t want to believe you about my people. I can’t believe we’re the bad guys. We’re really awful people. I mean, I know you told me this already, but I just thought you were being a jerk. I had no idea our living conditions were so different.”

“…..I mean, you’re not a bad person.” Globgor said, giving a careless shrug. “So…I guess as long as there’s one good Mewman, there should be hope for the rest of your people….maybe.”

Eclipsa grinned and mimed the action of playing a guitar. “You know, everyone seemed to really like my singing. Maybe I could come back some time and-“

“NO.” Globgor caught the girl with his tail so that he could stop her from walking. He turned her so she could see his eyes digging into her. “Eclipsa, you can never pull what you did today ever again. Do you understand?”

“But everyone loved me!”

“Because they thought you were a monster! It doesn’t matter how kind you are to them, or how nicely you sing, if they find out you’re a Mewman, you. Will. Be. Killed.” He groaned and ran his fingers through his light-pink curls. “I have enough on my plate as it is, I don’t need to add worrying about you on top of everything else!”

“….” Eclipsa gave a small shrug. “It’s okay. I can look out for myself.”

“Of course I’m going to look out for you!” Globgor said in exasperation. “I don’t want to lose you!”

……

After a pregnant pause, Globgor squinted his eyes at the girl in a threatening manner. “I hate you for making me say that.”

Eclipsa’s cheeks lit up as she heavily blushed. “Oh, you!” She turned to face him. “Thanks for showing me what monsters are really like, Globgor.” She then stood on her tip toes and kissed him on the cheek.

As expected, the boy shot back like she had just bit him. “H-Hey! W-What are you doing?!”

Eclipsa giggled and raised a digit. “You’ll never get stronger if you let your guard down like that!” She gave him a wink before heading in the direction back to the castle.

“…..” Globgor shifted in indignation. “If you ever call me Globby again, I’ll bite your face off!” he called.

“No you won’t!”

“Well….I’ll want to!”

He watched her until she was out of his sight. Once she was gone, he gently touched the spot she had kissed. No one had ever done that to him before. His first instinct was to scrub the spot clean, but he ultimately decided against it

…..

Geez, why did he keep getting the suspect feeling this girl was going to get him into a lot of trouble?

And why did he feel so okay with that?

*Song is Dreams to Dream from Fieval Goes West. You can find it on Youtube. Make sure to listen to Tanya’s version!

I want to start by reassuring you guys I’m not going to make this story as simple as ‘monsters good/Mewmans bad’. The fault in monsters is going to be covered in later chapters. I believe it’s important for Eclipsa to be the first one to realize that her race isn’t as innocent as she was raised to believe. After all, I imagine her to be the more open-hearted one, not really wanting to be enemies with anyone. It would be a lot easier for her to let go of any prejudices she had than it would be for Globgor, who’s actively involved in defeating the Mewmans.

Now, let me explain why I needed to use a song for this chapter. I don’t know if anyone else notices this, but Globgor always seemed entranced whenever he heard Eclipsa sing during the show. He always stood and watched before he joined in harmony. This causes me to believe he adores his wife’s singing voice. Therefore, I needed the first time he heard her sing to be nothing short of magic. I didn’t feel like I could really capture by just saying Eclipsa ‘sang really good’. I needed a song to refer to. I really didn’t want to, but I’m not creative enough to come up with my own song! On top of that, I was crazy about this song as a kid, and I still find it to be a sweet tune to this day. I hope you guys are okay with how I handled the moment and will forgive me for pretty much making this chapter a ‘songfic’ one.

Another time-skip will happen in the next chapter. And we’re going to cover a topic that I know a lot of you have been eager for.

Mewburty.

#CH3 #Mun writes #fanfiction #Globgor #Eclipsa #globclipsa #svtfoe #Magic High Commission #MHC #SWHOREBE

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meliss-cake · 5 years

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Minerals, Crystals (Part I)

Amazonite

Uses: The amazonite has a powerful filtering action. On a physical level, it blocks geopathic tensions, as well as protecting against electromagnetic pollution. At the mental level, it filters the information that passes through the brain and combines it with intuition. It is a stone with a relaxing effect, useful for analyzing different sides of a situation. On an emotional level, the Amazonite relieves emotional trauma, calming worry and fear. Dissipates negative energy and anger. On a curative level, the Amazonite heals and opens the chakras of the heart and throat, promoting loving communication. It also opens the third eye and the intuition. The best place to position it is on the affected point or wear it to protect from radiation. You can also place it near computers or attached to your mobile phone.

Color: Green-blue

Appearance: Vitreous.

Safe for elixir: No, contains copper.

Chalcedony

Uses: Chalcedony is a stone that enhances community and goodwill, favoring group stability. It can also favor telepathy. Chalcedony harmonizes the mind, body, emotions, and spirit. Giving feelings of benevolence and generosity. Dissipates hostility and transforms melancholy into joy, it has transmutation properties. Psychologically relieves self-doubt and facilitates constructive internal reflection, creating a more open and enthusiastic personality. At the healing level, physical energy increases, balancing the different bodies, physical and subtle ones. The best position for chalcedony is in the fingers, around the neck or, wherever the access is for the function that has to be exercised.

Color: Multiple.

Appearance: Greasy, vitreous once polished

Safe for elixir: Toxic, contains copper.

Blue Chalcedony

Uses: It’s a wonderful healing stone. It has soothing and refreshing energy, helping to achieve peace of mind. Good to activate and help the throat chakra (Vishuddha), in addition to facilitating the expression of thoughts and feelings. It allows us to access higher energies. Psychologically it counteracts the repression and suppression of feelings that arise from the fear of being judged and rejected. It is especially useful for helping men to release and accept their sensitivity and to welcome their natural feelings, preventing the development of diseases due to unexpressed emotions. Mentally, it helps verbal communication or not of thoughts and feelings, counteracting mental tension. Emotionally neutralizes the feelings of anger due to its soft and peaceful energies. Spiritually clears the throat chakra so that the highest spiritual truths can be expressed. Useful for mediumship. The best place for placement will depend on the use that will be given.

Color: Blue

Appearance: Vitreous

Safe for elixir: Toxic, contains copper.

Aventurine

Uses: In contact with a mobile phone, shields the electromagnetic emanations of it. Psychologically reinforces the qualities of leadership and decision. It promotes compassion and empathy while promoting perseverance. It helps you stabilize your mental state, stimulates perception and enhances creativity. Physically; It creates a feeling of well-being, balances the masculine and feminine energies while protecting the heart chakra (Anahata). At the curative level, it benefits the nervous system and stimulates the metabolism. It has anti-inflammatory effects and, taken as elixir helps relieve epidermis problems.

Color: Green.

Appearance: vitreous

Safe for elixir: Yes.

Azurite

Uses: Guides the psychic and intuitive development. It drives the soul towards enlightenment. It cleanses and stimulates the third eye and tunes you with spiritual guidance and allows you to travel astral or out of the body in an organic, simple and safe way. Azurite is a powerful healing stone that facilitates psychosomatic understanding of the effect of the mind and emotions on the body. Mentally it helps you to a clear understanding, with new expectations and expand your mind. Emotionally, azurite cleanses stress, grief, worry, and sadness, transmuting fears and phobias. Ideal if you hold it in your right hand and over the third eye, if not possible, take it in contact over the body.

Color: Blue

Appearance: Vitreous.

Safe for elixir: No, contains copper.

Baryte

Uses: It facilitates intuitive vision. It is a traditional stone to travel because it stimulates dreams, as well as its memory. Spiritually it is a useful stone to clean and rebalance the entire chakra system and, on a psychological level, barite helps boost autonomy and independence. It helps to overcome shyness and focus the mind in addition to interpersonal communication, helping to recognize where your limits are. At the mental level, it's good for memory and to enhance the ability to organize and express feelings. Emotionally, benefits platonic friendships and fosters intimacy and understanding in relationships of all kinds.

Color: Varieties

Appearance: Vitreous

Safe for elixir: Yes, it is extremely insoluble, and therefore practically harmless, being used for example in medicine (It can cause side effects with sustained use or in excessive amounts.)

Calcite

Uses: (Common among varieties) It’s a powerful amplifier and energy cleaner. With its mere presence, it cleanses the negative energies of the environment and enhances your personal reserves, in addition to removing stagnant energy from the body. It is a spiritual stone that facilitates the opening of higher consciousness and psychic abilities. Psychologically it connects the emotions with the intellect creating increased emotional intelligence. Mentally it helps to relax the mind, teaches discernment and analysis, stimulates perceptions and enhances memory. It relieves emotional tension and transforms into serenity as it is a stabilizing stone. Hold it or place it where it is most appropriate or as an elixir. Compatible with sleep, they are also well known as crystals that can help prevent nightmares, that’s why you can put calcites around your bed. Popular with reiki.

Orange: Aids you balance emotions, dissipating fear and assistance with depression, while it also helps you to dissolve problems.

Blue: Relaxing properties, so it dissolves pain, relieves nerves and reduces anxiety, freeing you from negative emotions. Especially good in the fifth chakra to help communication.

Yellow: It induces deep states of relaxation, which is why it's an enhancer in meditation and spiritual connection. Use it as an elixir to raise the vibration and, in the coronary chakra and solar plexus to exercise their function.

Green: It helps disappear old beliefs to put aside things we don't need, expands our minds. Attacks our laziness by giving us good energies and activation of our body. If we use it our confidence in ourselves and others will increase.

Pink: Helps you to accept yourself and your actions, it helps to let go of past experiences, especially when you still feel fear or sorrow for something that happened.

It facilitates the flow of energy from the crown chakra to the heart.

Color: Varieties.

Appearance: Vitreous, pearly.

Safe for elixir: Yes (will dissolve).

Carnelian

Uses: It’s a high-energy stabilizing mineral, excellent for restoring vitality and motivation while stimulating creativity. Psychologically it helps to accept the cycle of life and dissolve the fear of death. It instills courage, dissipates apathy and motivates you to succeed in business. It helps you to trust yourself and your perceptions, mentally improve analytical abilities, clarifies perception and, during meditation, helps to withdraw erratic thoughts. Emotionally it helps to protect against envy, anger, and resentment that someone may have on you while calming your anger and dissipating negativities in your person.

Color: Red- Orange

Appearance: Vitreous

Safe for elixir: Yes, in low quantities (saltwater can cause fractures)

Celestine

Uses: It has high vibration. It's very useful to stimulate clairvoyant communication, the memory of dreams and trips outside the body. Heals the aura and brings balance and creativity. Psychologically it imparts a soft strength and inner peace while helping you to open up to new experiences. Mentally, brings calm, dispersing concerns promoting mental clarity and fluid communication. At the healing level, being a blue crystal, it's effective in opening and healing the throat chakra. Place it in the right place on the body, to meditate or to read a crystal ball. In the third eye, it will help you to open a connection with higher and universal energies and, in a room, it will help to raise the vibration of this.

Color: Light Blue, Colorless, Yellowish

Appearance: Vitreous, pearly

Safe for elixir: No, may dissolve, contains strontium. Soluble forms of Strontium have the opportunity to contaminate water.

Hematoid Quartz (Jacinto de Compostela)

Uses: The hematoid quartz is really powerful to block bad energies, it absorbs them and then blocks them, protecting its wearer, at the same time attracting positive energies, being one of the best quartz if not the best to block or attract different types of energies. Increase concentration levels, thus helping to enter deep meditative states. The hematoid quartz is in harmony with all the chakras of the body, so it has the power to relieve physical pain in any part of the body. It removes fears and nightmares and gives you peace and emotional tranquility, anchoring positive vibes.

Color: From brown to black

Appearance: Vitreous

Safe for elixir: Yes, in low quantities.

Part II

Part III

Part IV

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homenum-revelio-hq · 5 years

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Welcome (again) to the Order of the Phoenix, Bee!

You have been accepted for the role of ISLA SELWYN-MACMILLAN, with the requested faceclaim change to Adelaide Kane! We particularly enjoyed the discussion of Isla’s reasoning to join the Order, as well as the conflict with people not trusting her because of who she is. We think she’ll be an excellent addition to the cast!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Bee

AGE: 21

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m a college student, so my activity tends to revolve around my schedule, though I tend to be online at some point every day (unless there’s a big paper to write or a project or a test or something the next day, in which case maybe not… but still probably because I am a disaster). If I had to give it a number? 7.5, 8.

ANYTHING ELSE: OOPS HI LOVELY ADMINS

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Isla Evelyn Selwyn-MacMillan

AGE: 25

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis Female, She/Her, Sexuality was a weird thing for Isla- she was never entirely certain as to how to define it, or what made sense to her. Yeah, sure, guys were good, she guessed. Girls were nice too. Either or, both, sure.. But it was never really important. At least, not the sex part- not to her. She could take it or leave it. Sometimes it was nice, but most of the time she could live without. What she couldn’t live without was some sort of emotional connection. She needed someone to care about, and who cared about her- that was always what mattered most to her. In terms of labeling, she’s probably demisexual and gray ace.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: I’m 100% okay with Ernie being Archie and Isla’s kid. I actually kind of love how complicated it makes their little, odd family’s life. As for faceclaims,would it be okay if I used Adelaide Kane? If not, Melisa Pamuk is perfect <3

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Isla falls into a sort of gray area when it comes to personality. She is a messy conglomeration of the things that she needed to be for her family as well as the things she wanted to be for herself- therefore, it really depends on which Isla you know. She can be vibrant and exuberant, a free spirit who loves to run wild, who loves to do things that make her happy. She can be wildly fierce, especially when it comes to taking care of people and standing up for what she believes in. She can be a whirlwind of passion and fire. She’s warmhearted, treating friends more like family and strangers like friends.

But there’s also the uncertainty of who she’s supposed to be. The feeling of being lost in who she wants to be and who she’s had to become in order to hold on to the people she cares about, to protect the people she cares about, to protect herself. It’s like living a masquerade every day of her life. Pretending and lying, giving up the things that she was so passionate about, it’s deteriorated her spirit a little bit. But the Order has given her a little bit of that fire back. She has a cause to fight- she fights for the person she once was, the person she’s lost. She fights against the stupid, archaic world that the Death Eaters and Voldemort are creating. It helps her hold onto the scraps of herself that she knew. It’s like looking into a crystal ball and seeing who you were, but not seeing any path as to who you’re supposed to be now that the chips are down and you’ve found yourself in your current situation.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Isla has never really known where she fit in with her family. There’s a family portrait that hangs in her family home’s parlor that was done when she was about four. Her mother and father looked like the regal couple they’d always been, standing behind their four children, elegantly dressed, her mother dazzling with the diamond necklace that twinkled upon her neck, her father with a stern sort of half smile underneath his mustache. Her older sister, Maeve, sat on a fainting couch with herself and their little brother, Grant, just in front of them. All three of them in pristine, mint condition. Long, dark curls on Isla and Maeve, half tied up in white bows. Little Grant in a suit, his hair slicked back with what had to be gallons of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion. Every single detail of the five of them was perfect, to a t. She was sure that somewhere, in the back of her parent’s minds, that’s how they’d hoped their children would stay. Perfect little angels who knew their place, who had cherubic smiles on their faces and soft giggles. As an adult, Isla would find herself staring at the middle child, squirming ever so slightly in her little white dress, her eyes glinting with just a hint of mischief, and want to tell her to run away and never look back.

But then, really, would Isla be Isla?

Isla was a ball of energy that was almost impossible to tame. Of course, she knew when not to overstep her parent’s wishes, but oh Merlin, was it fun to toe just a hair over the line. As a little girl, she wasn’t given much opportunity. She would run wild around the nursery, declaring herself a dragon on any given Tuesday, or the Quidditch World Champion for a weekend. She jumped off beds, had notebooks full of doodles, sang at the top of her lungs- she was absolutely her own person. Willful, too. From about the age of three, there was no getting Isla to do anything that Isla didn’t want to do. She would sit, stubborn as an ox, in the same spot for hours on end. It drove her mother and father absolutely mad- but her aunt had always laughed and remarked that as long as there were Selwyns, there would be willful, headstrong witches in the world.

Hogwarts was the time for freedom that Isla really needed. It was freedom, at least to a point, to explore and experience and learn what she liked, to do what she wanted. Of course, she was never encouraged to do certain things. It was almost an unspoken thing- of course her parents wanted her socializing with students from pureblood families, of course they wanted her in the Frog Choir, of course they wanted her in the Slug Club- these were things that they could brag about to their friends, things that would make their daughter sound like the creme of the crop. It was easy with Isla’s older sister- Maeve had always been the golden girl. But Isla liked to subvert expectations and do what she wanted to do. She loved flying. Soaring above the world in the red and gold of the Gryffindor House Team, a very unladylike beater’s bat in one hand, she felt freer than free. Like she never wanted to touch the ground again. She loved Care of Magical Creatures, her gentler side emerging from the usual ferocity of her spirit. She could speak to the creatures for hours. She’d watch flobberworms, and somehow, not get bored. She hid a niffler in the Gryffindor Girl’s Dormitory for a month because it had hurt itself and she wanted to heal him up (his name was Gregory, and yes, she got found out by McGonagall… Gregory got taken away, and in a rare sighting, Isla cried for hours). She’d make friends with anyone and everyone from any house, even though there were certain friends that she had to tiptoe around, lest naive Grant slip up and tell their parents. Hell, she even snogged a few guys, a few girls, a few neither, and a few both. She had a relationship or two, though nothing romantic ever really lasted. All of this was okay because it fell within the realm of education. It wasn’t the real world- not yet. Her parents didn’t care what she did, so long as she brought no irredeemable shame to them.

Soon after graduation, her mother first used the most dreaded word in all of English: marriage. And thus began Isla’s great attempt to avoid ever talking about getting married. She quickly found a quidditch team that would sign her on, and thankfully her parents indulged her ‘whim’. For five years after Hogwarts, five glorious, beautiful, amazing years, she flew professionally. Isla knew it wasn’t exactly what her parents wanted- she knew the remarks regarding their younger daughter’s occupation that ran in their little circle of pureblood friends. But Isla didn’t care. Until she had to care. Until her parents told her she couldn’t fly anymore, even though she was so close to landing a spot in the big leagues. No. That word came back to haunt her. Marriage. Isla had to get married to some nice pureblooded boy that they approved of- preferably another old name- and have little pureblood babies. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t in love with anyone, it didn’t matter that she didn’t want to get married- it was marry or be cut off. This was the only place that her parent’s held the power, where the line was drawn in flames rather than chalk. They threatened her with stories of Andromeda Tonks, who ran off with a muggleborn and had a kid, who was cut off from the family, burned off the family tree, shunned from all of society. And while Isla didn’t care about the rest of society, she did care about being cut off from her family.

Enter Archie.

Archibald Macmillan, one of Isla’s closest friends in the world, was in a similar conundrum: his parents were demanding a marriage to a nice pureblooded young lady- the catch in his particular situation was that young ladies weren’t exactly his type. Thus, the world’s most perfect plan was hatched: Archibald Macmillan would marry Isla Selwyn. They would be married for the sake of marrying- to placate their parents and the demands for traditional pureblood values and a path for an eventual heir- but have the freedom to be themselves within their own relationship. Freedom within the constraints their families had placed upon them. Thankfully, Archie hadn’t fussed when she asked… or really demanded… she keep her surname as well as take his. She was Isla Selwyn after all. Now she was just a Macmillan too.

It wasn’t until after the wedding that Isla found out why her parents had been so demanding and had threatened to cut her clean off if she hadn’t married. The reason was referred to as You-Know-Who and other darling pseudonyms. He wanted a pureblood society, full of traditional pureblood values. If you defied him and his followers, you often ended up dead. It had been her family’s way of protecting her without really explaining why. That knowledge made her blood boil. She had been so angry with her family, but so afraid that they would cut her off just like Andromeda Tonks had been burned off the Black Family Tree that she caved. But it was this… this slimy, foul, miserable wretch of a wizard who wanted a perfect world for himself to rule over. What You-Know-Who didn’t know was that he had made an enemy on her wedding day, whilst she was saying her ‘I do’s to a man she loved but wasn’t in love with, while her family sat, painted smiles on their face. He had made her choose to clip her wings. And for that, he would pay.

OCCUPATION:

Once upon a time, Isla was going to fly for the rest of her life. She was going to live on her broomstick and make it big one day. Maybe she’d even fly for the Holyhead Harpies. She’d already planned it all out. Unfortunately, Voldemort and, because of their fear of their daughter being hurt or worse, her parents, had more traditional plans for her. So Isla Selwyn MacFusty is a wife. It isn’t an occupation she wanted by any stretch of the imagination- but at least it’s a marriage to Archie, and not one of the arrogant ministry goons her mum would have picked out for her. She supposes that the Order is more of an occupation in the traditional sense- it doesn’t pay (but she doesn’t need money, what with the Selwyn and Macmillan money floating around), but it gives her something to do. She’s also taken on a new occupation- one that she wasn’t certain that she’d ever wanted. Being the mother of Ernie Macmillan was the best job she’s ever had. She’d do anything for her little boy, anything in the world.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDERS:

Isla’s fairly certain that most of the Order does not like her because of her last name… or last names. Sometimes it makes her feel like she’s sticking out like a sore thumb- the pureblood girl with the perfect pureblood life, what’s she doing fighting with the underdogs? Isla wishes that there were some way for her to reassure the Order that she’d do just about anything to help, because she doesn’t agree with anything that Voldemort says… the slimey old git. The past is the past, and it should stay there. Archaic and old, let it mold away. Fighting this fight lets her at least try to banish the past way of thinking. Plus, she believes that every good secret organization needs a few good men (or women) who have insight and connections to the enemy. Fortunately, Isla believes herself to be the exact girl for the job, She’s high enough up in pureblood society that people don’t suspect her. While most people in high society know of Isla’s fiery disposition, they believe her to be ‘tamed’ by married life, settling in as a graceful and elegant lady of the house. She can work her family’s circles to pick up intel and feed it back to the Order. Hopefully good information helps turn the tides on the war.

SURVIVAL:

Once upon a time, Isla thought she was invincible. Nothing bad would happen to her- the Death Eaters, while winning, were too dumb in her mind to think that one of the Selwyn girls was working against them. She was certain that they’d think no sweet, demure, little housewife and mother would ever be involved with an organization actively trying to take down Voldemort. Especially not with a surname like Selwyn Macmillan. But the events of October 31st 1981 have rattled the optimistic perspective of Isla. People got hurt. Really hurt. Before the Masquerade, she was fighting by sneaking around, bringing in information that could only be provided by someone in upper crust pureblood society. But the evening of the masquerade was the first time that she could actually die. Be it getting caught in the crossfire trying to save someone, or being caught working for the Order, or simply being in the wrong spot at the wrong time. And if she died, that left Archie and Ernie alone- the two people she’d do anything in the world for. If she got caught, or if she died, that put both of them at risk. Or worse, she got caught, and something happened to them- she’s not so sure if she could handle even thinking about something like that happening.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Archie Macmillan: She loves her husband to the moon and back- just not as one would normally love their husband. Marrying Archie was a no-brainer once the ultimatums began to be thrown around by her parents. He’d always been a close friend, he was someone her parents undoubtedly approved of, and he needed a safe marriage where he could be himself without sneaking around. She thinks the world of him, and she would do anything for him. Of course, the Order has put a bit of a strain on things, but she appreciates him being right by her side. It makes her feel less alone in things.

Andromeda Tonks: Isla can never decide whether or not to be jealous of Andromeda. She was free to live the life that she wanted with whom she wanted, but at the cost of losing her family. Isla is certain that she maintains a large amount of respect for the woman. She might have been the horror story her parents plagued her with, being left without a family or a home, but at least Andromeda didn’t give in to her parents. There’s a piece of Isla that eats at her every day for not fighting for just one more second of her freedom.

James Potter: Isla really cannot stand James Potter, and it’s not even his fault… or it is… it isn’t but it is. James has never had to worry about losing his family for dating who he wanted, for marrying or not marrying- he’s completely free. And even worse, he’s pitied for being in a relationship simply because Lily is a muggleborn. As if Lily Evans wasn’t smarter than ten purebloods combined… at least, in her humble opinion. All of these thoughts have given Isla a sort of prickly disposition whenever she’s around James. She doesn’t hate him, but she doesn’t like what he gets away with all because he’s James Potter and because he’s a bloke.

Emma Vanity: Emma Vanity is like looking into a mirror. A slightly more innocent, naive, little lamb of a mirror, but a mirror. She’s from a pureblood family, one that had wanted her to get married to a nice pureblood boy. And god, the girl almost did get married, and Isla still isn’t sure that that’s what the girl had wanted. She was freed from her betrothal by the untimely death of Mulciber, but Isla knows that that sort of freedom only lasts so long, especially nowadays. Hopefully, with a little bit of her help, Isla can get Emma to truly decide what she wants, and then help the girl with whatever comes next. Merlin knows Isla wishes that she had had someone who would have done that for her.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: Isla x chemistry. A warning that she will never do anything that would put Archie or her son at risk, any extramarital relationships will likely be secretive.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Isla has led the glamorous life- she hasn’t had to worry about much of anything, ever. She never had to worry about being bullied or tormented about where she came from, let alone any other reason. Up until her time at Hogwarts, she hadn’t really met a muggleborn, let alone really understand what the muggle world was like- it wasn’t like she didn’t know that muggleborns existed, but they weren’t in the social circles that her parents ran in. So when she got to Hogwarts, she was a little bit too eager to find out things like how they got around or how they got rid of the boggarts in the attic or how they ever got their mail. There were times she was surprised how good at magic a muggleborn friend was, and as she got older, she’d kick herself for ever thinking like that. Having magic, she learned, didn’t mean you had to be good at it. For example, she was awful at transfiguration, whereas other students- muggleborn, halfblood, and pureblood alike- succeeded and even thrived at the art of changing one thing into another.

The only thing in the world she has working against her is Voldemort’s need for his rather archaic pureblood society and it’s ‘traditional’ values. Traditional in the sense that it was her job to be a delicate flower doing household magic and being demure and lovely as opposed to zooming through the air on a broomstick and feeling free. That freedom to be who she wanted to be has given her the tiniest sliver of a glimpse into a world she knows she could never dare to imagine. Ernie, she’s decided, will be raised to respect every wixen of every background. Her son will be better. She won’t let him be another pureblood thinking that he is the center of the universe, and all should bow before him.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I have never loved a group more, I swear to god. I am here for all the angst and in depth character writing.

PLOT DROP IDEAS: LITERALLY ANYTHING. Y’all have come up with better plot drops than I could ever imagine. But I’d love something that lets Isla really do some recon and bring back whatever information she can to the Order.

ANYTHING ELSE? AAAAAAAAAAH I LOVE YOU ALL

#hp roleplay #hp rp #hp rpg #harry potter rp #harry potter roleplay #homenumaccepted

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