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dansnaturepictures · 3 years

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Rutland Water blog 1: 20/08/2021-Lyndon Nature Reserve Part 1 of 2: Ospreys, dragonflies, Muntjac and more

As mentioned in my post about 19th August on 20th August we headed to Rutland Water, where we came every summer between 2008-2019 to visit the Bird Fair, rightly not going ahead this or last year due to the pandemic. But our wild year aligned for a trip to the nature reserves around this enormous reservoir to be very useful so me and my Mum came away staying Friday night and returning Saturday night to visit the Lyndon and Eglton Rutland Water nature reserves. I didn’t take my laptop on a one night stopover so the blogs about the time away are retrospectively posted so will read in the present tense of the date at the top. I have four blogs about the two days away, two each day and the part two of the days carry straight on from part one and its both part twos that have my Wildlife Sightings Summary for each day. Writing this bit at the time of posting: I shall aim to have part two up for each as soon as I can after.

So going back to Friday now; today on a pleasant journey from Hampshire to the East Midlands I knew we were approaching this area that means so much to us when I saw the picturesque agricultural landscape of Leicestershire which is the heart of England. The landscape was painted well with an interesting summery shade of brown as it was all journey and so often is at this time of year. There were nice well grown and vegetated road verges too. Today we started this trip as we do every one here by coming to Lyndon nature reserve at the south of Rutland Water. As we came down the steep winding road towards the visitor centre which was adorned by pink great willowherb, it was great to see the stunning scenery and get tremendous views down into Rutland Water. I took the first, third and fourth pictures in this photoset here today.

It was so brilliant to be back, and not much had really changed in the initial glances here. There were dragonflies, for me a key wild attraction of this reserve flying around from the off. I did wonder, with dragonflies being something I have focused on a lot more the past few years, whether me associating the Bird Fair with being a strong point in my year for dragonflies was because it stood out against the rest of the year where maybe I didn’t look for dragonflies a lot. But being so focused on them now particularly with the Lakeside walks working from home seeing some I can say once more as I address below this is an extraordinary and special site for dragonflies. And I was reminded how brilliant it was for them today.

Something that is new since I last came here as I said when I went to Blashford Lakes for the first time since early last year recently is the depth of my interest in and more knowledge of flowers. Today I saw so many lovely flowers, including the sweet great willowherb that was widespread today as well as purple loosestrife and water mint fitting for beside the water, with ragwort too, bee nettles, nice pink marsh woundwort in front of hide and some bright red fruited cuckoo pint looking stunning and red near the visitor centre both new for me, the similar to the woundwort hedge nettle, self-heal, Herb-Robert, red campion still going strong, rosebay willowherb, yarrow, cow parsnip, hemp acrimony, a tiny forget-me-not, scabious by the visitor centre and some nice yellow flowers by there too. It was also great to see some sloes whilst walking around a key image of this time of year.

Such a key part of our Lyndon and Bird Fair visits are going in the huge selection of varied bird hides with different habitats. In the first we went into, the first going west from the visitor centre it was great to notice a bright Great White Egret lurking at the end of the water. This has became a really key bird for Rutland Water but I believe this is the first we saw at Lyndon.

On the way to the next hide we got an early key moment of the trip when I was stunned to see a deer skulking out of vegetation, running across a field over the fence and back into the thick vegetation at the base of the water. I was amazed to get a clear view of it to be able to see it was a glorious Muntjac Deer. It was a stunning view of this sweet little mammal. I was so happy and thrilled to see this exceptional species. And there is a big history with this mammal and our Rutland trips as it’s my fourth ever sighting of one, and three of them were at Rutland Water. The first ever one we saw at our first ever Bird Fair at Egleton the part of the reserve the fair is held. And then we didn’t see one again until one at Lyndon in 2019 when we were last here. This is the third year running I have seen a Muntjac Deer now after seeing one at Blackwater in the New Forest in 2020 which is really smashing for a species I saw early on in my wildlife interest and then not again for a few years. This sighting made me feel very happy.

And then it turned into a brilliant few minutes as first of all typically for the species on the wood of a bench outside the second hide along was an excitingly red male darter dragonfly. And after photographing and examining it I was thrilled to see the jet black with no yellow on the side legs to show it was a Ruddy Darter and not Common Darter that I have enjoyed a lot this year. This was a very precious sighting for me as a year tick and I didn’t see one last year at all so this felt really good. I initially tried for photos with my normal lens which I had on at the time. I tend to use zoom lenses for dragonflies whilst my macro lens and all its closeup detail would maybe be the preferred option like all other insects. But the dragonflies land less frequently than butterflies say and after faster so I don’t normally have time to get my macro lens out or bend down to get the picture. Rare macro dragonfly pictures I’ve got in recent years have been down to luck at having my macro lens on my DSLR camera at the time. But this one was landed so frequently, always returning and settling again on the wood so I had time to get the macro lens out and take pictures possibly the extra bit of details I needed to get the ID over the line which I got the second picture in this photoset of. A brilliant view of a fine dragonfly and flipping back to the time of posting for a second I didn’t realise until I got home that Friday was ten years to the day that I saw my first ever Ruddy Darter dragonfly also at Rutland Water one I am fond of so this was special.

Then in the hide we spotted a blue beauty of a big dragonfly parading in front of the hide over vegetation, it was the smashing species a Migrant Hawker one I see as a very notable species. I have seen these three years running now too with sightings of one on different days at Lakeside last year sandwiched by today and last time here in 2019. It was fantastic to see a couple of these together. And with that the two dragonfly targets I had for this trip big parts of it for me had been seen which I was thrilled with almost straight away. It took my year list to sixteen making my year list my joint second highest ever levelling my 2018 total and behind only my 2019 total now, with my mammal year list on the same amount and riding high when comparing to past years too and I know today will be a big dragonfly focal point in another very successful dragonfly and damselfly year for me.

In the hide too I liked seeing a Little Grebe pair on a nest which was very interesting as I’d not seen them on a nest before unlike their cousins the Great Crested both grebe species on nests a very notable thing around the reserve lately it seems. There was a bare tree covered in Cormorants which was great to see with another one further up too as well and a Grey Heron flying over was nice.

A big event of the day occurred afterwards as we made it to the hide at the end, one of the two you can see the Ospreys within. It’s always a big moment whenever we come here and I was so thrilled today to see one as soon as we got into the hide a possible juvenile we think and it stayed sat on the Osprey pole for the whole time we were in this hide. And it was fascinating to see it had a fish in its talons. It was such a precious view of a bird that has been one of my very favourites for so long and such a key part of this usually annual trip for us. I was so delighted to see three more Ospreys join it as the time in this hide went on sitting on posts, the nest the one that has a webcam on it which I quite often watch and going through the big and prominent trees. It was wonderful to see and there was a very key moment of the whole trip when one Osprey flew out over the water in pursuit of a Grey Heron for a bit of heavy duty aerial tussle which put a lot of the ducks up unsurprisingly. This gave me some of best flying Osprey views for a few years it really was spectacular. I loved watching this and taking in the pure joy and pleasure of seeing it and taking photos as I did the whole time with the Ospreys. I took the fifth, sixth, seventh and ninth pictures in this photoset of the Ospreys still and flying today. After being so lucky to see the Rutland Water originated bird at a local reserve for us Fishlake Meadows to keep Ospreys in our lives this year and last I was so grateful to get to see these here today.

Also from this hide it was great to see the quirky scene of some cattle in the water which is a strong memory. A Pied Wagtail made a great sighting here too and it was delightful to see a charm of Goldfinches fly down onto the shore of the water with their splash of colour a few times. Lapwings were all over the place here which was brilliant too and it was entertaining to see them together. I reflected on how I’d probably not seen the two of them together before. Common Terns sat on posts and hovering made a great sight here too as it so often does and I liked seeing lots of Sand Martins with later on seeing them at the third hide along landed in vegetation which was very interesting to see. It was a splendid day of egrets and herons with Great White Egret, Little Egret and Grey Heron all present which was very interesting to see and is always brilliant to see. On a good run I am on for them and a great year I’ve had for them Stock Doves were a highlight this afternoon too with one flying over and one by a nest box type area. I took the eighth picture in this photoset of one of a few Greylag Geese about flying in to land on the water too.

I also had a great moment with my macro lens again when I saw two sweet orbweaver spiders very intimately on webs over the hide windows. It was interesting taking one spider picture and seeing the shadow of a prominent clump of trees which I always enjoy when coming to Lyndon across the lake behind it and this was the tenth and final picture in this photoset that I took today.

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

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Small Town Swoons

Hello buttercups! Here is the big fat project I was talking about. I am giving you snippets and teasers of the whole thing, just to let you know what you’re all getting yourself into.

There are some spicy tidbits here and there, so I would suggest only mature (18+) people read and/or engage with this post.

I’ll be starting with Yoongi since his piece is really in the holiday spirit and I’m super hella inspired to write it, but don’t worry, Steamy waters is still coming (just know that I’m not done publishing stuff for the night 👀)

Let me know what you think about this project, what story you like the most and which one you really really look forward to reading 💕✨

Just in case you need it, here is my masterlist

Enjoy 💜

Apple of My Pie — Jin

In the bakery and café near the university many students barge in, desperate for coffee and the delicious apple pies served there once October comes. Some of them barge in for the sweet sight of the owner, still mysteriously single. Little do you know that he’s been pining after you for years, since you ran into his café in a slow, rainy Sunday morning, drenched like a stray kitten, asking only for friendly help. Friendship sparks easily and his comfort tastes as sweet as autumn apples. That’s how you find yourself flatmates, watching movies with his secret recipe hot cocoa on Saturday evenings and waking up to the delicious scent of his pies on Sunday morning. But the sudden apparition of a rival makes you wonder, what would it be like to fall asleep in his bed every night?

Mold Me New — Taehyung

Divorce is a mess, especially when you’re so young and you had bet your life on your high school crush. All those things you never had to learn are scary now: dating, friends with benefits, all those secret rules on social interactions and flirting. But then your friends gift you a clay modelling lesson at the local pottery. Your teacher looks like a quiet, grumpy man who slowly warms up to you, offering you his kind smiles and gentle laughs. Right when fear that your lack in courtship manners might cost you your greatest chance at a new happiness, his lessons indirectly turn into small advice, and suddenly it feels like his hands are shaping your heart into the perfect, beautiful whole you needed. And to show him your gratitude, you’re more than willing to gift the artist his creation.

“Don’t let it dry too much. Too much water will mess it up. It will become too pliant and it won’t hold up.” That was it. The rule to love. You had bathed him in reassurance and affection, and just like that he had melted underneath your touch, and he had turned into nothing. And the love had run out. “Every shape has its specific requirements.” He explained, dipping his hands in the basin and letting the droplets fall from his fingertips. “Wet hands, but not drenched.” Once he was happy with the result he sat up, his foot starting a small pressure on the pedal. “See, here we go. The clay will show how much water it needs. Easy on the pedal. Very slow. You’re warming it up. Be gentle. You’re not sure it’s good. Just like with people. Easy at first, and once it works you speed up.” He smiled at the material underneath his hands. “Gentle. Easy.” He said, his sinewy fingers gently pressing into the art piece to be. His fingers seemed to stretch and bend imperceptibly, as if he was feeling the very texture of the material, and of the final result he wanted to obtain. “That’s the secret to good things.”

The Shrew, Untamed — Jimin

Everyone gets married in small towns. The hairdresser’s daughter, the butcher’s niece, the doctor’s granddaughter. Even your best friend. And someone has to organise all the weddings. You have taken part in so many it is unnerving. You’re not asking for a husband, a simple fuckbuddy would suffice. You don’t even need someone with skill, you just need to have sex with a human. Though your goal seems unattainable and life apparently truly sucks, the petty florist where you order the flower arrangements offers you a beacon of hope, comforting you and spoiling you whenever you visit his shop, condescending to your every whim. Will he satisfy your every wish or will you have to supervision your best friend’s wedding on the verge of sanity?

“Sit down, sweet pea.” He said, offering you his chair. He immediately stood behind you, digging his fingers into your shoulders, massaging them. He always smelled like greenery. It was relaxing. “Who pissed on your roses, tiger?” He asked, his thumbs drawing circles at the base of your neck. You moaned and closed your eyes. “Poor baby. So stressed.” He purred, laughing. “Portia is getting married.” You groaned. He ohed. “Your friend, Portia?” You frowned and pouted. “That bitch. Portia.” You growled. He laughed a silvery sound. “It’s your best friend.” “It’s a stressed out insult. She wants me to plan it. Jimin, I am so tired of watching people getting married.” He kneaded the nerves near to your spine. “It’s a professional hazard, baby’s breath.” His finger stilled as he reached the middle of your back without finding the clasp of your bra. He moved upwards, ignoring the small detail. “It’s the third in two weeks. I can’t. Is everybody getting married this spring?” You asked, your head rolling forward. “I’m tired. Stressed. Grumpy.” You whine. “Baby, you have your sugarcane at home, use it.” He said, referring to your swirl shaped dildo. You shook your head. “It’s the warmth. Human touch. Sympathy.” Ask me, please — Jimin mentally begged — I’ll be so sweet to you. “And now I even need a plus one for Portia’s wedding. Lest she pairs me up with her cousin. Did I mention that he’s thirty and bald?” You sighed. “I can help.” He said. “With the Plus one.” He clarified. “Don’t expect me to get my fingers in your pie, blossom.” He stated. You shook your head. “Your loss.” You tutted. His loss, for sure. Not like you wanted him massaging your breasts as you sucked him off, laying on your white silk sheets, his dulcet moans filling your lonely room and your empty

Natural Connection — Namjoon

The city sucks. And before you definitely choose to resign from your job, you spend the money earned with your all-work-and-no-play attitude in a reinvigorating holiday in a natural resort in the woods. What you find is true heaven on earth, an eden of wonders and explorations. When you meet your guide, who will follow you and you alone, you almost cannot believe your luck. The closed-off man leads you through all the breathtaking sights of your location, offering you emotions and landscapes unrivalled — both in terms of wildlife and... well, humans? The steamy atmosphere seems to keep growing hotter together with the summer days, and before you can think twice your big friendly giant helps you get rid of the hots. What happens when your Adam and Eve idyllium gets interrupted by a ruckus of stag-partying jocks?

Namjoon knew your average blood pressure at rest and under effort, your shoe size, your weight and height. Still when he found you right before him he could barely believe the sight of you. He knew you were small but this small? He was surprised. Amazed. Completely dazzled by your size. “Uhm. Kim Namjoon?” You asked, hesitant. God, even your voice was small — he noticed. As you got even closer, he realised you barely reached his sternum. He was endeared. He imagined how hugging you would feel. Why was he imagining to hug a stranger? “Hello! Welcome to the Valley!” He said, offering you his hand. You took it and shook it energetically. “Thank you. I assume you will be my guide during my stay.” You commented. “Exactly. I'll be your coach and your guide through the whole experience.” “Perfect.” You smiled. He was dumbstruck by it. So sweet and bright. You noticed he had a nice voice. And a kind smile. He looked like a very gentle giant. “Have you brought any specific equipment with you or would you prefer to use the one we offer?” “I have trekking boots and walking sticks. You know, basic stuff that's difficult to find when you're the size of a teapot.” He laughed a loud belly laugh, which surprised you and pleased you. “Okay, we can head to the hall and chat about your activity plan.” He said, leading you. Walking behind him was definitely a hard challenge, both because his legs were kilometric — and damn fine — and because how could you not stare at that ass right in front of your gaze, clad in oh-so tight shorts? Once he realized you were basically running behind him, he turned, a bit confused. And then embarrassed. “Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly, taking shorter steps. "Don't worry, it's okay. I'm a fast walker." You stated. He grinned. He barely stopped himself from murmuring a 'cute'. You were adorable.

Ink ‘n’ Run — Jungkook

People find awful ways to inculcate mean insecurities in our lives. It is to get rid of insecurity that you head to the talented tattooist in a small town near your campus, ready to ink your fears away. Ready to start from zero, you let yourself enjoy a night out clubbing and a steamy one night stand with a tattoed god. Hit by the morning-after regrets, you run away before he wakes up. Little do you know that he’ll be the man you’ll be spending several hours underneath, half-naked as he inks you. Such a shame that you keep running away each time he is ready to ask you for a date. And that he keeps running away after you convince yourself to concede him one. Will you manage to let each other see that you click perfectly or will you let that night be just an accident?

“Oh. You’re back. Lovely to see you, how can I help you?” He looks sweet. God, he was sweet, of course he looks sweet; you thought. He was the most gentle man you had ever been with. Wicked hips, but such a sweet mouth. “Uhm, I have an appointment?” You said, showing him the business card with the date and time of your appointment. “Oh.” His expression was the perfect depiction of confusion. “Uhm. I guess you can come into my studio, then. Do you have someone with you? Would you like Daisy to come in?” He said, looking at the girl sitting at the reception table. “No, I’m cool.” You forced yourself to form a tiny, polite smile on your face. As he walked ahead of you you noticed the way his tight black t-shirt hugged his narrow waist. And his wonderful, jeans-clad, toned ass. God, he had rammed into you like a mad man that night. You shook your head, trying to bring yourself back to reality. Meanwhile, his mind was fuelled by millions of questions. Why had you run? Were you freaked out by what was happening? Were you as affected as he was at the idea of him working on you? Did you think he was a fuckboy? Would you let him take you out on a date? Would you let him fuck you again? Wait, scratch the last one.

Head over Heals — Hoseok

You are the most talented ice skater of your state. Or rather, you were. Your career was harshly interrupted by an unfortunate accident. Healing from the hurtful events takes strong nerves and positive energy. Luckily, your physiotherapist — the neighbour of your childhood home — is the most positive, enthusiastic person. New feelings bloom like daisies on a warm spring morning, while old feelings rekindle and light your way back home like a field of fireflights, back to places that you’ve always loved. It takes little time to get used again to his sweet energy and his gentle hands, healing your body and your soul. It takes even less time to fall head over heels for him.

“What changed?” He asked, drying your tear with his thumb. “I don’t know. It feels like it changed.” He smiled. “You’re still the same to me. Same bright eyed little girl running around in a summer dress, smelling like honey shampoo and sun cream. You feel like home. I think nothing has been okay since you were gone.” Your heart took a second to melt and resolidify around that new truth. “Hobi.” His eyes were glittering. “I think I always had a soft spot for you. You and your knees always scraped, the small curls framing your face, the way your braids came undone that night as we were driving away after prom in the convertible your parents ran away in when they eloped.” He looked so sad. And so beautiful. “Hoseok, I never forgot you, you know. You were my first.” You confessed. “And you were mine.” He replied. He paused. “We were perfect.” “We were.” You replied. We still could be. We are.

Sugar and Spice — Yoongi

A new girl moves into town, her goal starting her life from scrap. And then on a foggy autumn night she ventures in the local pub, where she meets a cute, tattooed bartender who happens to be the local sweetheart. Fate — and the sweet granny next door — seem to push them together; it’s only a matter of time before feelings bloom and attraction becomes too intense to resist. The magic of a small town, and that loneliness that they share and understand so deeply, bring them close at the most wonderful time of the year. Love can blossom even in the dead of winter and who knows, maybe they’ll find a new life by the time of the new year?

“How does it feel to live in a small town?” You asked, stretching your legs out the flannel blanket. Sunlight came in through the yellow leaves of the apple trees. “Like time doesn’t really exist. Until you don’t have any left and suddenly your friends are getting married and having children and all you have is a useless piece of paper stating that you’re a doctor.” He said. “But it’s okay. It’s lovely, at times like this.” He said, looking at the sky. “Marriage and kids are overrated.” You said, laying down. He looked at you, your eyes closed, your hair coming out of his beanie, currently covering your head. “Don’t leave me alone here.” You had a beauty he had never known. Or that maybe he had seen in his mother. That rough, tough beauty that looks dangerous from afar. Delicate from up close. You weren’t gracious. You weren’t cobwebs and golden hair and clouds. You were the ground, the trees, the stone. You were the mountains capped in ice, beautiful and so endangered. Still, so steady. You were the forest, eternal. Nothing could marr you. No man, no humanly disgrace. You would weather and transform, like nature does. Maybe he was idealising you, maybe he was giving you all those traits he had always wished in a woman. “Stop staring at me. Lay down. Enjoy your seconds before you turn into a fifty-something lonesome worm.” You teased. He laid. Your hand found his. “I’ll tell you how a small town feels like, based on the opinion of a girl from a big city.” He exhaled a laugh. “It’s comfort. Like when it rains outside but you’re in your bed and you’re warm and you don’t have to get up. You can simply lay.” He rolled onto his side, staring at your eyelashes. If I blink, will she disappear?

#bangtan sonyeondan #Bts blog #bts fanfiction #bts au masterlist #bts au teaser #bts fic

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thedreadgay · 4 years

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fuck it, i’m making my own: a dragon age elvish dictionary

HELLO EVERYONE!!! presenting the fruit of my staring at my computer screen and muttering fake words to myself: a dictionary compiling my translations and expansions on dragon age elvish. i really love working with elvish; for fics, to come up with names for my protags, to understand canon elvish a little more, for whatever the fuck u want! but i found dragon age wiki incomplete, a lot of people (myself included) aren’t comfortable using project elvhen anymore cause of the guy behind it, and there are just some things i wanted to have elvish words for but there weren’t any. SO, i thought, fuck it! i’m making my own dictionary and guide to elvish!!!

a lot of these words are from canon, whether we know the definition of them or i deduced/guessed what the words meant myself. a couple words are from project elvhen b/c i had already used it long ago to make names for my elf protags, but im stealing these few root words and they're ours now. and a lot i also made up myself! whether by combining words from canon, taking a couple from tevene (since it seems a few tevene words come from elvish), basing them off real life languages like hebrew or yiddish (just as personal jewish experience lol), taking a bit from tolkien elvish, or just playing around with sounds until i figured out something i liked that sounded elvish.

consider this also layman’s elvish. i’m by no means a linguist, but i’m really interested in language and trying to learn a few more! i fucking SUCK at grammar tho and honestly, so does elvish. since it’s a cipher it’s kind of a mess but we love her that way. grammar? don’t know her! elvish doesn’t know her either!!!! that’s why im like, fuck it dude, do what u please!!!!!

if ur curious about how i came up with or translated certain things, check out my elvish tag or send me an ask/reply! and if ur looking for something specific in my posts, u can open the page and use ur browser’s ‘find in page’ search function. so without any further ado: elvish.

A-G || H-Q || R-Z

-aan: long, great

abelas: sorrow, to be sorry

abelath: apology

adahl: tree

adahlen: wood, forest

alas: ground, earth

all: life

ame: keeper

amelin: name, one’s essence, lit. ‘keeping blood’

-an: place

a’nansal-in: ‘one who is another blessing’ or ‘my child’s blessing’, granddaughter, grandchild (fem)

anar: year; pl. anaris

andar: weed, pl. andaris

ar: i, first person pronoun

aravas: travel

arela: parallel

arelin: cousin, lit. ‘parallel blood’

arla: trap, binding

as, -as: to act, an action

asha: woman, feminine gender

ashir: sleep

assan: arrow

athim: humility

athila: share, lit. ‘humble giving’

athillethal: a term for in-laws, one kin is shared with, lit. ‘shared kin’

athlan: call

atisha: peace

avare: oath, covenant, bond

avarellan: ‘one i have an oath of love with’, wife, spouse (fem)

avarellen: ‘one i have an oath of love with’, spouse (neutral)

avarellin: ‘one i have an oath of love with’, husband, spouse (masc)

bal: deep

balaur: griffon

ban: black

banal: never, nothing, void

banalethal: ‘not kin’, implies severing of ties

banal’ras: shadow, lit. ‘no light’

bell: many

bellanaris: eternity, a concept of time more than infinity, which would be u

bor: throw, toss

bora: loss, lost

bor’assan: bow, lit. ��arrow thrower’

da-: small, little

da’enansallan: ‘little one who is a blessing’, the youngest daughter (fem)

da’enansallen: ‘little one who is a blessing’, the youngest child (neutral)

da’enansallin: ‘little one who is a blessing’, the youngest son (masc)

da’lan: girl, little girl (fem)

da’len: child, little one (neutral or unspecified)

da’lin: boy, little boy (masc)

dar: to be

daras: being, existing

dell: noise, noisy

delltash: ‘quiet your noise,’ essentially ‘shut up’

denn: out, away

desen: to hold

din: dead, the dead

din’an: death

dir: the self

dirth: knowledge, secrets, tell; speak in the sense of sharing knowledge or understanding, as opposed expressing something, which is nuven

dirthara: learn

dirthavaren: promise, lit. ‘spoken oath’

dirthera: to tell tales

dor: grey

dor’balauren: grey griffons, a name for the grey wardens

durgen: stone

durgen’len: dwarves, lit. ‘children of the stone’

ea: bird

elgahren: ancestor, lit. ‘spirit elder’

elgar: spirit

elgar’arla: a binding circle to hold a spirit or demon, lit. ‘spirit trap’

elgara: sun

elgaras: sunlight

eltia: a head covering meant to symbolize awareness of divine presence, the gaze of one’s ancestors watching over them, or to better connect with the spiritual; lit. ‘spirit veil’

eludinaras: moonlight

eludinas: the moons, luna and satina

elune: the larger moon, luna

eluneras: the light of luna

eluvas: to see, to look

eluvian: mirror, lit. ‘seeing glass’

elvhen: elves, the people

elvhenan: the elven empire, the place of the people

emma: within

en: short

ena: emerge, led

enansal: blessing

e’nansal-in: ‘one who is another blessing’ or ‘my child’s blessing’, grandchild (unspecified or neutral)

enansallan: ‘one who is a blessing’, daughter (fem)

enansallen: ‘one who is a blessing’, child (neutral)

enansallin: ‘one who is a blessing’, son (masc)

enasal: joy in triumph, joyous relief

enasalin: victory

enaste: favour

enfenim: to fear

eo: skill, skilled

era: tale, legend, history

eth: safe

evanura: prosperity

fan: precious

falon: friend

falon'fen: 'friend of the wolf,' as in the dread wolf, meaning someone who consorts with untrustworthy people

fantia: crown, tiara

fel: slow

fen: wolf

firida: green

gaera: walk

gaerasyl: run, lit. ‘walk like wind’

garas: come, move

ghilana: to guide

ghilas: to go

glandival: belief

#dragon age #elvhen #elvish #i will ofc be continuously updating this #IM SO EXCITED TO SHARE IT!!!!!

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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 4 years

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Written for @azulaweek. Prompt - Training. (Image Source)

Summary: Azula doesn't understand why Zuko won't just focus on his firebending. Lu Ten doesn't understand why she doesn't understand.

~~~

“I don’t understand why Zuzu likes swords so much.”

Lu Ten looked up from the knife he was turning over in his hands. “...Why?”

“It’s swords. He’s a Firebender.”

“I’m still confused, kid.”

Azula crossed her arms and huffed. She glared at the teakettle and tried to explain. “He’s got fire. He shouldn’t need anything else.”

Lu Ten laughed. “Our family is full of people who have more weapons than just their fire. Your mom has swords. My mom threw knives. Grandmother was a Yu Yan archer!”

“That doesn’t mean Zuko needs something else. Father doesn’t use weapons, neither does Uncle.”

“Eh,” Lu Ten shrugged. “True. Must be a Sozin’s line thing. I’m the only one of us who bothered learning anything else.” He tapped the knife and grinned. “Until now.”

Lu Ten liked the fact that Zuko was using swords? “But Zuko doesn’t need swords!” Unless it really did turn out that Zuko was as disappointing a Firebender as Father thought.

“No, but they could still come in handy. I don’t need knives, but I’m pretty good at throwing them.” Lu Ten twirled the one he held around his finger a few times.

“But you’re good at throwing knives,” Azula said. “Zuko isn’t good with swords.”

“Well of course he’s not good with swords, Zuli, he only just started learning. It’ll be a while before he’s good at them.”

That sounded stupid. Why waste time working on something that you weren’t good at when there was something else that needed your attention? “He should just stick with his firebending,” she muttered. “He isn’t good at that either.”

“Whoa - hey. None of that now. Zuko’s firebending is just fine.”

“Mine’s better.”

“That’s because you’re gifted. Zuko is...average. His firebending skills are good enough for his age.”

But good enough wasn’t good enough. “He should spend more time practicing his firebending and less time playing with swords,” she said. “Maybe then he’d learn more.”

Lu Ten frowned. For a long moment it was silent in the garden while he fiddled with his knife. Then the teakettle started making noise - not whistling, Lu Ten never let it get to whistling when he was making green tea. He said you should never boil green tea. But the water inside was starting to bubble. He took the kettle off the fire, took the lid off the waiting teapot, and poured the hot water in. He plunked the lid back on when the pot was filled to the point of overflowing, and some of the displaced water splashed out. Then Lu Ten poured more hot water over the top of the teapot, letting it run over the clay surface to warm it up.

“Does your father say stuff like that?” Lu Ten asked gently.

“No,” Azula huffed. Father didn’t need to say anything. She could just tell. “But Zuko needs to get better at firebending.”

Lu Ten poured the hot water out of the teapot and into a little pitcher sitting to the side. When the teapot was empty, he took the pitcher and poured the water into two tiny teacups, filling them to the brim. “He will get better. As he grows older and gets more experienced. That’s how it works.”

“He needs to get better now. I’m better than him!”

“And that’s not his fault,” Lu Ten said firmly. “Zuko works very hard, and he’s doing perfectly fine for his age. You’re the exception here, and it isn’t fair to compare him to you.”

Well that certainly wasn’t how Father seemed to think.

Lu Ten removed the lid from the warmed-up teapot. “Tea leaves, please.”

Azula handed him the little bowl containing the leaves he’d selected. He took it from her hand and held it up to her nose. “What do you think?”

She sniffed. “Jasmine.”

“Yep.”

“I like jasmine,” she said. “It’s kind of sweet.”

“Floral,” he agreed. He placed the leaves in the pot and retrieved the kettle again. For the second time, the teapot was filled with hot water, more poured over the sides for good measure. “So tell me,” he said, “if you think Zuko shouldn’t bother with swords because he’s not good with them yet, does that mean that you shouldn’t ever learn...hm. Lightning? Because you definitely won’t be good at it right away.”

“That’s different,” she insisted.

“How so?”

“Because I’m a Firebender. I’ll be able to figure lightning out!” Lu Ten looked amused at that declaration, so she clarified, “Zuko’s not a sword master.”

“No one’s ever a master, when they start,” Lu Ten said. “I’m not even an expert knife thrower.” He turned around and frowned at the apple tree behind them. There was a knot a few feet up the trunk, where a branch had been pruned away recently, leaving a little circle of trimmed wood behind. Lu Ten picked his knife up again and peered at the tree trunk carefully as his arm went through some practice motions. Then the knife was flying, and with a thunk it hit the wood two inches to the right of the knot. Lu Ten grinned at Azula. “See? I’m not bad, but I’m nowhere near as good as some of my cousins. My aim’s better with fire.” He lifted his hand again, and a little fire dart sparked to life above his fingers. It flew through the air and hit the knot dead-on, leaving a scorched spot behind when it fizzled out. “See?”

“You should stick to fire darts, then,” Azula said. “If you’re better at that.”

Lu Ten looked at her. “Zuli, if we only ever stuck with what we’re good at, we’d never accomplish anything.” He turned his attention to the teapot, which had apparently been steeping the leaves long enough because he poured the tea into the little pitcher. Then he dumped the water that was still sitting in the cups. Now that the cups were warm and empty, he poured the tea into them. There was still some left in the pitcher. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “Want to do the honors?”

Azula grinned, took the pitcher, and dumped the dregs over the turtleduck tea pet sitting on the side of the tray.

“Good job,” Lu Ten said, and he presented her with one of the tiny teacups. “Enjoy.”

She took it and had a careful sip. The jasmine was delicious. “How do you make such good tea, Lu?”

He gave her an amused look before sipping from his own cup. “Practice.”

~~~

Author’s Notes

Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated.

Uh, let's see, notes...

*shrugs* This one came out kinda funny? There's no actual training in it, lol, but they discuss it I guess. Once again, we are taking a look at Azula's giftedness - coupled with her father's demanding personality - and how it affects her mentality when it comes to how people spend their time. The line in Zuko Alone, where she tells Zuko "You waste all your time playing with knives. You're not even good." was an inspiration.

Title comes from the old idiom "A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one."

My Lu Ten is semi-competent at knife-throwing because even though he never knew his mom, his maternal grandparents were like "THIS IS A FUN FAMILY BONDING ACTIVITY." He does prefer fire, but knives can come in handy.

Lu Ten is also starting to....pick up on some things regarding Uncle Ozai at this point. He still thinks the man is just a hopelessly awkward or disinterested father. He's also going to ship out to Ba Sing Se in the not-too-distant future, so he won't have the opportunity to see that Ozai is worse than that. I think that Ozai didn't ramp up his abuse until after Lu Ten - the family member most involved with the kids besides Ursa - was out of the way. For now it's just words and statements he makes to his children that could be taken many ways, and he's reaping so much benefit from that doubt.

Regarding Azula, she just...does not understand why Zuko won't stick to what he's good (or at least semi-decent) at. In her opinion, the point isn't to learn different things - the point is to be good at what she knows. Zuko keeps trying to learn other stuff and looking dumb as a result. That's not how you keep Ozai happy. Lu Ten is kind of seeing her thought process but doesn't quite comprehend it, and he's trying to explain how her current worldview is a little skewed, but it's not really working. Have you ever had a conversation with a young child where you try to explain something, and they come away with the completely wrong understanding of it and there's nothing you can do and you just stand there staring at them as they accept this new fact and refuse to listen to your clarifications? Yeah that's what's going on here, basically.

And I based Lu Ten's tea brewing motions on this tea ceremony video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3tA3fFCP34&feature=emb_title

Confession time: Tomorrow's prompt has been fighting me A LOT, so it probably will not be posted in the morning. I'm hoping to have it up in the evening, but failing that I'll shoot for sometime on Sunday or next week. *shrugs*

#azulaweek2020 #Azula #atla fanfic #avatar fanfiction #fire nation royal family #Lu Ten #caelum writes

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just-emotional-trash · 4 years

Text

An Outranked Romance Ch. 2

Pairings: Eventual Romantic Prinxiety, Logicality, and Remile

Story Summary: At Camp Regality, lords, ladies, and royalty alike learn the values of being a member of court in the Kingdom of Animiria. Prince Roman is thrilled at the chance to get out of the stuffy palace! Virgil, the son of a lowly Baron, is ready to leave the moment he gets there, and plans to slip through unnoticed. But what happens when a certain Princely figure won’t leave him alone?

Inspired by this post by @ironwoman359

Chapters: World-building - First - Previous - Next

Chapter Warning(s): Non-descript anxiety attack

Words: 2k

—————

Roman was so ready for camp to start-

In fact, he was packed a week in advance. Camp Regality was his first chance at freedom and art and a chance to finally meet some other people his age. His cousins were fun, but there was so much more out there. All of the other princes he met were either straight, in a relationship, or obnoxious and pretentious. As the limo pulled up to the camp, it bypassed the gate most of the nobility were being dropped off at and pulled directly up to the second largest building in the camp. It was a gold and white mansion, with large, greek columns and two large doors.

The chauffeur parked in front of the building, and the three guards assigned to the prince and two dukes flanked the limo and opened the doors. Roman walked out with a sigh and a stretch of his arms, grateful to get out of the limo he’s been in for the past five hours. He moved to grab hold of some of his bags (he had many of course, he would be here all summer!), but was stopped by one of the guards.

Roman frowned. “Let me help bring in my bags.” The guard didn’t budge, so Roman took a different approach. “Look, there’s a lot of bags, and only three of you. We’re not in the palace anymore, I can help without any ‘nobleman’ getting huffy over it!”

The guard sighed, “This is still a place of nobility, your highness. Let us do our job, it will be of no trouble.” Roman let out a resigned sigh and turned to his two cousins, currently looking around the camp with big eyes. Being members of the Royal family, they were all used to being carted from palace to palace any time they traveled. This was a change of pace, and what a change it was.

The woods behind the camp called him to explore, and the small lake in the distance sparked with invitation.The future nobility milled about in the sand pit and the sparing ground, meeting old and new friends. And behind them his two cousins- were now in front of him, holding the door open in invitation. They laughed as he realized he had been standing still, looking out across the camp. He chuckled and walked up the stairs, into the mansion.

—————

Roman, Patton, and Emile walked through the halls and up the stairs to find their rooms. Patton’s was immediately next to the stairwell, accented with a painted sign of his name in cursive on the front.

Patton grinned, “Aww! That sign is a-door-able!” Emile tried to stifle his laughter as Roman suppressed his grin and shook his head in disappointment. Patton just smiled at them and waved as he walked into his room with a guard following him with his bag.

Emile’s room was not far from Patton’s. It also had a sign with his name on it, this one with big, bubbly letters. Emile just grinned and walked into his room with a wave at Roman. The poor guy hasn’t had any alone time in the three days it took to travel to the camp, so he was probably eager to have some space to himself.

Roman walked a small ways to the end of the hallway, where his name was written on a sign in an elegant scrawl across the large door. He walked through the doorway to find a room nearly as large his own at the palace. The room was crawling with colors of the nobility - white, red, and gold - and Roman was happy to see them follow him here. After all, red was his favorite color for this exact reason.

He made his way over to the corner of the room, where he was delighted to find a piano, sheet music, and an easel with paints. Being the masculine prince he was, he was discouraged by members of the court to learn artistic abilities. “That is women’s work,” they called, “leave something for the female nobility to contribute!” Not that he didn’t enjoy swordsmanship or sparing, but he wished to express his creativity!

His father, King Thomas, had never discouraged him from pursuing such simple delights as art, and even got him a sketchbook. However, anytime the young royal had tried to learn an instrument, a man of nobility had come to sweep him away for one reason or another. This left him with only his voice, which he had developed well over the years.

"Alright piano,” Roman said as he dramatically pulled the cover off of the instrument, “show me what you’ve got!” He sat down and pulled out sheet music. He spent a few minutes singing the bars and rhythms and matching them to the notes before he got a feel for it. A few hours work and a lot of frustration later, he could barely pluck out “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”. Groaning in frustration, he pulled away from his piano and clambered into bed, draping himself dramatically over the comforter. A moment passes and he hears a knock on the door.

“Hey kiddo!” Patton walks in without need of permission. “That was some good music I heard from down the hall!”

Roman groaned, “You heard all that?” Patton nodded empathetically. “Don’t patronize me. Turns out playing piano does not come quite as naturally as expected.”

Patton smiled as he sat down at the foot of Roman’s bed. “Well, you just need to find a good teacher! You have a music class in the afternoons, correct?”

Roman shot up, “Hey yeah! I bet someone would be able to teach me!” Patton just smiled and nodded his head. Roman tackled him in a hug, “Pat, you are a blessing upon my life!”

Patton laughed at his cousin’s antics and said, “Yes, of course, I know, but now we need to go down for dinner!” At this, Roman took notice of his cousin’s suit and light blue tie. “Ah, of course! I’ll change into my uniform.”

They walked downstairs to meet Emile in a light pink tie and an older, stern looking woman in a dress that looked like it was made for her grandmother. “Hello,” she spoke in a voice far too high to be pleasant, “I am Miss Higgenbotham, the headmistress of this campus. i welcome you, Prince Roman! And your cousins, the Dukes. Welcome also. I trust Cabin Majesty has been accommodating?”

Roman could tell that she was just as snotty and old fashioned as the rest of the court at home. He could only hope the other kids there wouldn’t all be the same. He turned on his courtly smile and responded, “Thank you, headmistress. I’ve been nothing but impressed and am eager to spend my summer in such a lovely camp.” She stiffly smiled back, reassuring him that he used the correct amount of formality.

Guards flanked them as they started toward the main building as Miss Higgenbotham began to point out buildings and giving them names that Roman immediately forgot. All he managed to remember is that the largest building was called the Palace of Perfection and it was the home base of the camp. As they approached the main doors, Emile lagged behind the rest. Patton went back to find out what was wrong, and Roman and the headmistress stopped by the foot of the stairs.

After a minute of talking, Patton started hugging Emile. Roman finally saw his younger cousin’s face and could tell he was crying. “Headmistress Higgenbotham, if you would go on into the ballroom, we will join you shortly.” She seemed miffed at the break of her plan, but she nodded nonetheless and walked in. Roman walked over to the brothers and put his arms around the both of them.

“What do I need to slay my sweet Emile? A dragon? A witch? A dragon witch?” Roman could feel his younger cousin laugh softly as they pulled apart.

Emile wiped at his eyes and slowed his breathing as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I-its just... there’s going to be so many people in there, a-and I’m not even supposed to be here yet-”

Patton interrupted him, “Emile, you’re here now because Roman and I wanted you to go to camp with us! It just wouldn’t be the same with only two thirds of the three musketeers!”

Emile still looked doubtful, so Roman added, “Besides, who else would help talk me through it when I inevitably screw something up? I need my therapist at my side just as much as my best friends!” Emile cracked a smile at that and nodded.

“Okay,” Patton clapped, “let’s go wash your face and let the redness calm down and we can go on in.” They entered the mansion and asked the house staff to lead them to a bathroom. A sweet maid led them to a small, personal bathroom just off of the Grand Ballroom where the dinner was to take place. They took their time joking and laughing until they decided to go on to the meal.

As they walked up to the grand double doors, a large man with a staff walked in before them and called out, “Presenting Prince Roman Sanders, and his Royal Dukes, Patton and Emile Picani!” Roman shrugged and stepped out, once again donning his court smile and waved at his fellow campmates. He felt his cousins following him, which was a great comfort.

As they reached the end of the long walkway between tables, the headmistress walked up to a podium and gestured for Roman to stand beside her. She began to give a welcoming speech, which the royal tuned her out in favor of taking a look around the room. Everyone was in uniform - a white shirt and kaki bottoms, with a grey blazer and the Royal Crest on their lapel. He met the eyes of many as he surveyed the room, but they caught on a pair of mismatched ones. One blue and the other... brown? Hazel? It was hard to tell from far away, but surreal to say the least, not to mention the strange dark shadow underneath his eyes. The man that owned the strange eyes was beautiful, with dark hair and sharp eyes that stared right back into his light brown ones.

Suddenly, the eyes left his as the man ducked down and began to talk to the person beside him wearing sunglasses. Roman was made aware of the rest of the room once again, and noticed that the headmistress was still dragging her speech on.

“Not only is the royal family oh so generous for allowing us to be blessed with the presence of their very offspring, but they also-”

Roman stepped up to the elder woman and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. As much as I appreciate this glowing speech,” he speaks as he leans over into the microphone, “these people must be awful tired of waiting for their food. I know I am!” His princely smile returned once again to his face as the people laughed and showed agreement.

“Yes well,” she made a disgruntled face at her speech being cut short, but she would not deny the prince. “I suppose it would be alright if we went ahead and began dinner. Waiters! Appetizers, please.”

Waiters flow through the doors as the Headmistress Higgenbotham gripped his arm to guide him to the staff table at the front of the room. A small part of him had hoped that he would be allowed to sit where he wished (certainly not just to learn the name of the beautiful stranger he held eye contact with for just a moment too long), but he knew that even such a small freedom would be over the line.

Roman sat down at the right hand of the headmistress as she lifted her glass. “A toast!” she called to the table, “To the beginning of another great summer!” Roman lifted his glass and smiled as he prepared for one of the best summers of his life, even with the few restrictions left over from the palace.

—————

Taglist: @treasureofpriam @ghosttb0y @mostpeopleannoyne @athenashipsthings @icequeenorginal @monroig @anaussiefander @www-dot-ohshit-dot-com @cas-is-a-hunter @justastressedprincess

#an outranked romance #royal camp! au #prinxiety #ts prinxiety #logicality #ts logicality #ts remile #remile #roman sanders #ts roman #virgil sanders #ts virgil #patton sanders #ts patton #emile picani #ts emile #ts dr picani

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lynneshobbydomain · 4 years

Text

Vengeance Chapter 12

((Thank you all so much for the likes and the reblogs and the support. Thank you to @sinfulwonders who works tirelessly with me to beta this. I also wanted to apologize for not updating. As, you all know I was busy with shipweek but I also had a family matter that was very crucial. I am grateful that you all cherish this story as I do. Without further ado, let me continue))

Rating: M

Summary:

Previous Next

You can read below the cut or at my AO3

It was the first time Shuichi entered Aki's room since her disappearance, and there was still a heart-sinking feeling that stuck with him as he looked at the place. The faint scent of blackberry and vanilla hung in the air, and the smallest little knick-knacks hadn't been moved or fixed. Her desk was still the organized mess that it was, a planner even folded to the week that she went missing. The planner had different colored inks scrawled across the page, each color symbolizing priorities, and reminders written in quick shorthand. Her curtains draped closed, as they were when she wasn't in the room. There was a corkboard hung on the wall with pictures thumbtacked into its surface. Many of them were of D.I.C.E, of family photos, and some of just him and his cousin. There was only one picture on there of just her back to the camera, and her profile hidden with a wide brim hat. She was walking down the beach with her hands clasped behind her back. The wind must've been blowing since her hair was all over the place. It was a stylistic photo, and the only one he knew of that could wield a camera like that was Ovetere. Which meant this must've been a spontaneous trip that some of the D.I.C.E members took, or they had met up somehow and just decided to mess around with the camera.

His attention left the board to the laptop that was sitting idly on the desk. He knew that this day would come sooner or later. Digging up secrets, he couldn't think of any that Aki would keep, but Takahashi told him one already. She wanted to travel around and keep a distance between her and the Saihara name. Shuichi couldn't fault her for it. He sat down at the desk and turned on the laptop, noting with amusement that the surface covered with different kinds of stickers. Her collection was endless, and it was everywhere. On the consoles of her video games, on the corkboard, on the laptop. He knew if he dug around her bookshelf, he could find her albums of stickers. He waited for the computer to load as he looked around her room again. His furniture matched the dark aesthetic of trying to keep his place as cold and minimalist as possible. Her furnishings were light wood and reflected the light from the overhead fan and the sunlight when she opened the curtains.

He could almost hear the soft twang of her guitar playing, and he could just visualize her sitting on her bed with her guitar on her lap, curling around it as she focused on practicing a chord or a song. It was a typical scene—a standard memory. Even before Kokichi showed up in their lives, him reading in her room while she practiced was commonplace. It was hard to believe that during fits of insomnia, he wouldn't hear her play anytime soon—no random knocking on doors to check in on each other and trek up to the vending machine.

Shuichi saw that her laptop was password-protected, but he didn't need to be a hacker to know what it was. He typed it in out of memory and stared at the desktop picture. It was last year's New Year shrine visit. Their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders -Shuichi had to bend down to compromise the height difference-, and they were grinning at the camera. Shuichi's smile is a little more timid and shy, and her bright and beaming. She wore a yukata even though it was freezing and that she should've worn a jacket, and Shuichi bundled up in a scarf and earmuffs. They had taken the picture away from the crowd, but close enough that it could still be seen a little in the background, showcasing the line and the people who were trying to get a wish.

It startled him to see that this was the picture on her laptop. He didn't think that anyone kept the photo besides Keiko or Koji. He didn't remember Aki requesting the picture, but maybe he hadn't paid attention when he got dragged into the embrace. He felt his eyes burn and a lump form in the back of his throat as he tried to swallow past all of it. He needed to stay focused. Right now, traversing memories wasn't going to solve this case.

Just like that, however, his mind decided to be helpful and remind him that Takahashi said that she was planning to leave the Saihara household. Bracing himself to find nothing but apartment searches and universities for music, he got himself back upright and went onto her internet.

If anyone wanted to know anyone, whatever they searched on their history told a fair amount of their story. Composing contests, youtube channels dedicated to guitarists and musicians, discussion forums on music...a twitter. Shuichi didn't doubt that Aki networked, trying to see who would bite if she was actively trying to leave, but...there was not a thing that she recently posted on her account that said anything about wanting that. The youtube videos she watched were of people that she admired and actively supported. There was nothing to indicate that she wanted to leave.

If she was bait, chances were, Danganronpa didn't have a clue until they started researching a little more heavily into her about who she was or didn't have a clue at all since Aki was firmly silent about her name. If it wasn't bait...then, Danganronpa really went out of their way to try to find her. Shuichi just couldn’t imagine his aunt making such a massive wave with a case that it would result in something dramatic as a kidnapping. At the same time, considering that it was nothing more than a snuff game, and everyone was a contestant....he couldn't put it past them. Everything was a possibility right now, and until he heard more from his uncle or his aunt about the Jabberwock Case, nothing was set in stone.

It didn't fit with Danganronpa's MO. They went after local celebrities, and they stuck with local newspapers. Unless...Shuichi cupped his hand over his mouth as he tried to put himself into Danganronpa's shoes. If they were so slighted about the case that his aunt took, that they were willing to go out of their way to remind the police and law force what kind of power they would be granted...then it wouldn't bother them to research Aki. Take her hobby, and her talent...and taunt her with it as they did with the rest of the contestants. Only instead of being accomplished, they were belittling the fact that she wasn't, and that pissed Shuichi off.

He confirmed once again that there had indeed been a "reason" for the kidnapping. Shuichi felt confident that Danganronpa just didn't randomly take her from the street. Now to confirm the other piece of the puzzle. He opened her Discord as well as he decided to scroll as much through her history as he possibly could, she seemed to have kept it clear and clean most of the time. Getting on to her Discord, he noticed that she was only a part of two servers, D.I.C.E, and the Musician Symphony.

The Musician Symphony wasn't an active group, but he could see that there were people that occasionally touched base. Going through the backlogs, Shuichi noticed that Aki tended to lurk more than participate in this server. He roamed through the channels before figuring out that the entire reason why she was there was to see what other people were doing and supporting them. He saw some of the tweets people were posting onto the channel. Some had been re-tweeted by her as a boost. She went through the youtube videos and commented on them, but she'd never discussed how she came across them.

There was a notification on a familiar icon. Shuichi clicked on it, already having an idea of what he was about to walk into.

[ Shuffle: Shuichi-chan-san's telling me that you're missing. You're not missing, right? You're home, or you're late or something… ]

[ Shuffle: Aki...please just go home? Please? If you guys had a fight or something, I know Saihara-chan-san will be willing to hear you out...or Ouma-sama-san! ]

Those were all...on the day Aki was reported missing. Shuichi closed his eyes and let out a soft breath.

A couple of days later, Shuffle tried again to reach out.

[ Shuffle: I know that this isn't going to reach you, we don't know where you are, but I feel like I have to say something anyway. ]

[ Shuffle: I'm really, really scared Aki. ]

[ Shuffle: I'm scared we're going to find you dead. I'm afraid that we're going to find you traumatized. I'm worried that you're...not going to be the Aki that we all know and love. ]

[ Shuffle: I feel so dumb. ]

[ Shuffle: I should've done something. ]

[ Shuffle: Called you, met you closer than the intersection. ]

[ Shuffle: I'm such a terrible friend. Asuka says that I'm not. Tohru says I'm not. Everyone's saying to me that I'm not. ]

[ Shuffle: But I can't even help our leader like you can, Aki. I don't think Saihara-chan-san can help either. ]

[ Shuffle: he just sits at his laptop, all scared. ]

[ Shuffle: Maybe I should just ask for a pancake night. ]

[ Shuffle: There's no point in talking to a ghost that's not gonna reply. ]

Discord didn't shed any new light. Not that Shuichi was expecting it. He clicked off the website and rubbed his eyes, trying to think. Danganronpa knew that something was up. They knew that they were being investigated or that someone was poking around. Getting called up by Jabberwock over the technology only made them paranoid. It was the only theory that Shuichi had that didn't feel like he was stretching to reach a conclusion.

Maybe they thought someone was getting suspicious over the newspaper clippings and decided to target using other methods? If that was the case, then who got close enough to make Dangnaronpa sweat? Shuichi curled a finger against his chin. He doubted his uncle was the one that pressed them against the wall. At the same time, the theory that Ando had about Aki being bait was...still useful even if Shuichi hesitated to believe it.

Just what was happening on Jabberwock? What was the technology that was apparently stolen or lost? Why would Danganronpa admit to having it? Why would they even use their name?

What was their cover story? Shuichi sat straighter. A gut feeling stirred into his stomach, and he decided to just see if he was right. Instead of going into her history tab, which he knew would have nothing, he scrolled through her bookmarks. They were neatly categorized and organized from music to school work, and the abundance of files told him enough that everything had a place. There was one folder that was hidden in the music section; however, that caught his attention.

Travel Plans

Clicking on it, Shuichi saw a list of hotels and maps that were in her bookmarks. They were hot spots in each prefecture. Touristy areas as well as places that were off the beaten path. Shuichi picked one from the list, and saw that there was a museum that was dedicated to the Tragedy. It had been one of the several areas that had been annihilated. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that Aki was looking at history. Her interests were vast: psychology, history...the Tragedy was just both lined into one common event. There was a stigma that surrounded people who studied it and there was shame around those who talked about it. There was an underlying fear that it could happen again, or would happen again. No one wanted to teach the subject besides a quick overview, just in case.

It was probably the same shame that kept Jabberwock Island from being talked about too. Shuichi pursed his lips together as he decided to click on Jabberwock Island’s website.

The screen turned black, and for one horrifying moment, he thought he was going to see the emblem of Danganronpa spin around in a loading mode. Instead, what appeared to him looked to be like a flower with five sharp petals that were in a circle. As the page loaded, a flower petal colored itself a bright magenta. The page finally came into view, and Shuichi could not believe what he was seeing.

Welcome to Jabberwock Island.

The header had a large white font, and the picture was of the island's map of six islands. The tiny main island that was in the middle of it, and the five larger sections that made up the home. It was an island that was a few months away on a ship, and a decent six-hour flight from Japan.

He quickly found the "history" tab, and he stared in surprise as he read the blurb.

"An island that once used to be an amusement park was abandoned during the Tragedy in 20xx. The Future Foundation had renovated the amusement park into a military base in 20XX and had used it to help rehabilitate the Despair 15, otherwise known as the Remnants of Despair. The Despair 15 have decided to stay on Jabberwock Island after the Tradgey's conclusion in 20xx and self-exiled themselves from Japan. What used to have a horrible history is now flourishing with tourism and immigration.

Hinata Hajime is the island's current Leader alongside Nevermind Sonia, who has strong political ties to the Novoselic Kingdom in Europe."

Shuichi doubted that a website mostly created to try to get traffic into their island would talk about the technology that they once housed or the people that were on the island. The Tragedy. Despair 15.

Despair 15….

Did...Danganronpa has some sort of history with the Tragedy or with the Remnants of Despair? Shuichi never heard of someone mentioning the Despair 15 before, or of them being called the Remnants of Despair. Shuichi leaned back against the chair, the gears in his mind whirling. Remnants of Despair and Danganronpa. The missing technology. Something prodded in Shuichi’s mind to dig deeper at this.

First thing first: there was one person that he could talk to during the game that would probably offer him some insight about the event. Maybe there was something that was glossed over in class that would bring all of this together.

The second thing that he had to worry about was that Aki was going around to explore where the Tragedy hit the hardest. Her knowledge that she knew about the Island and in turn knew where the Remnants of Despair were located. Not only that, but it was odd to Shuichi that Dangaronpa and Jabberwock had a connection involving the Kamukura technology.

It pained Shuichi to think about it. How much didn't he see because he thought everything was okay? He thought about her statement in the first episode or two. When she proclaimed that she felt lighter. I keep thinking about the cars. I keep seeing them. He didn’t ask where, did he? His stomach turned iced and he felt the world darken at the corners of his eyes. He assumed she was talking about the school, and Aki, who probably didn’t want him to worry any more than he already was, went with it.

He clicked out Aki's computer and shut it down. He went back to his room and booted up his own computer. The darkness of his room helped with the small headache that was starting to pound behind his left eye. He hated stress headaches, and he didn't want to get off track to get medicine when he was so close to the finish line. At least, a finish line of one mystery.

Usually, the episode started at the dining hall when everyone was gathered, but to Shuichi's surprise, the episode started in a room that gave off an unsettling vibe. There was a large monitor that hung from the dorm's ceiling with prominent speakers, which amplified the volume. There weren't any windows in the dorm, and even if there were, the windows would be slated and bolted down so that there was no thought, no hope for escape. The bed was pushed up against the wall. There was also a desk that had a fair amount of papers on it. It's a dorm room, it was neat, and Rantaro was sitting on the edge, running his hand through his hair deep in contemplation.

There was a soft ring of a doorbell, and Rantaro picked his head up. There were superficial circles under his eyes that spoke of a hard night's rest, and he looked disgruntled. He rubbed his eyes and stood up, walking over to the door and opening it. "Kokai-kun?"

"Sorry, da bodder, you." The Ultimate Falconer gave a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He, too, looked as tired as Rantaro looked. "I jus' wanna check in on you."

"I think there's a lot of other people that you should be worried about, I'm fine," Rantaro assured gently. "How are they?"

"Dunno. Came da loo' a' you." Kokai gestured, "You are na fine, an' dat's o' ay." His drawl was a little worse than Shuichi remembered. He wondered if it was from the exhaustion, or if Kokai wasn't trying too hard to speak correctly. He still didn't know where to place that accent...if that even was one. "I was gonna fin' Mayumi-chan an' Shirogane-san."

"Shirogane-san is probably heartbroken," Rantaro murmured. "...Why don't we go looking for them together? How about we start with Shirogane since she's the one that was probably hurt the most? Maybe we can work our way around the school as well."

"Dat' sounds good." Kokai nodded firmly and stepped out so that Rantaro could leave the room. "Where da begin?" He frowned. "I' dough of maybe her lab, bu' I'm na sure where id is."

"It should be in our monopads." Rantaro took the said monopad out and started tapping on the screen.

"I ha' nology," Kokai grumbled. "Pre' y sure id ha'es me do."

Rantaro blinked, and he looked at Kokai curiously. "You... don't look at the monopads?"

"I can' ge' id da work!" Koka gave his monopad to Rantaro. He merely flicked the screen, and it turned on. The look of incredulity was astonishing, and Shuichi couldn't help but laugh, just as Rantaro chuckled. "I have done dat a dousands dimes! How?!"

"Maybe it's because I'm nice to it?" Rantaro offered as he handed it back to the flabbergasted student. "If you talk to it nicely and you touch it kindly rather than poking and prodding at it, it may be nice to you, and you can actually see where everyone is."

"Id shows you where people are?" Kokai blinked.

Rantaro quickly went through his and proceeded to show him a map. Shuichi frowned deeply, cupping his hand around his mouth. It was a little...eerie that students could keep track of each other. A good thing for a victim to have an understanding and a warning ahead of time. He had to doubt if anyone would use the monopads like that. Maybe some did.

While they were busy talking about the monopads, Shuichi turned his attention to the chat room and decided to see if Shinigami was on.

[ Seeker: Everyone's so quiet today. ]

[ Shinigami: Good evening, Seeker-san. It has been quiet. I have not seen Loki-kun around, which is to my pleasure. How are you? ]

[ Seeker: Struggling with History homework. ] It was probably a good thing that Kokichi wasn't in that chat room. Shuichi knew that was a terrible lie, but he hoped that it was hard to tell through the internet.

[ Shinigami: Perhaps I can be of assistance? I am a scholar of sorts for cultural history. I may not be able to tell you a whole lot of whatever you are trying to accomplish, but I may be able to clarify a few facts. ]

[ Seeker: We’re learning a bit about the Tragedy. I don't really know what to look for online. Any advice? ] Shuichi had to cringe at how bad that lie sounded. He wasn’t getting any better at this.

[ Shinigami: The Tragedy is a complex subject, but...let me see if I can't put it into more... more detailed terms. No one is certain of how the Tragedy began. Some say it started with Hope’s Peak Academy, and the unethical human experimentation that they were doing. Some say that there was a group that made something called Despair Disease and decided to spread it around. My belief, as well as other scholars, is the fact that it was a combination of all these things at once. There were experiments done, just not by the Academy. The Despair Sisters had a hand in it as well.]

[ Shinigami: Allow me to further the conversation about the disease. It would twist the personality into something that was the opposite of them or enhance a part of the depending, and they would act on it. Some were liars, some would follow orders to the death, and some were….some were actively trying to become the same as the Remnants of Despair. Unfortunately for them, the longest they could survive the fever and the dehydration, along with the hallucination, was about three days. ]

[ Shinigami: It was rumored to have happened anyway. Some survivors claim that they saw the disease with their own eyes. ]

[ Shinigami: You have to understand the Remnants of Despair and the people that befell the chaos were….people that would actively torture and kill victims. Torture that included but certainly did not stop at unethical practices of doctoring and experimentation. ]

[ Shinigami: The Tragedy came to a conclusion after the Despair Sisters met their demise during the Hope's Peak revival. ]

[ Shinigami: It took five years after that to rebuild, and another ten to fully recover. ]

[ Seeker: I see. Why is it hard for people to study the event without being cast in a terrible light? ]

[ Shinigami: Humans are afraid of things that they can’t control or predict. The Tragedy was one such instance and there’s a fear that someone will think it’d be a good idea to bring it back. Scholars like myself are even warned to tread carefully around the Tragedy, as there was once a superstition that even mentioning it, let alone studying it, would cause the Despair Disease to flare up again. Ludicrous yes, but...people want to pretend that it’s not as scary as it is. ]

Shuichi let out a long breath as he let the information sink into his mind.

[ Seeker: Does Danganronpa have anything to do with the Tragedy? ]

[ Shinigami: No. But they were inspired by an aspect of it. ]

Shuichi thought for a moment that Shinigami would go off again and give him the information, but for some reason, that wasn't happening. Shuichi had a feeling that even if he pressed, Shinigami wouldn't say. It must be something to do with his contract about watching the killing games and writing that paper of his.

There was something about those games then that they were mimicking or were trying to do. Despair 15...

Would it really be off of the mark to think that Danganronpa was attempting to see if falling into despair would be as easy as the Tragedy made it appear? Would it really be off of the mark to think that someone thought that the Remnants of Despair weren't all on Jabberwock Island?

Hope's Peak Academy...Shuichi grabbed his notebook and quietly wrote down the name. He was going to have to do more digging. Here he had hoped that the mystery would be done and over with, but Danganronpa was good at keeping the questions coming.

They were good at keeping an audience captivated at the screen.

It appeared that Shirogane was indeed in her lab, the boys took a daring look at each other, probably preparing themselves for hysteria, or tears, or other things. Shuichi wondered if he was going to cringe at how they would try to comfort her or be moved that they actually attempted. Rantaro was the one that decided to be brave and knock on the door.

It took a few tries, but Shirogane appeared, looking distraught and heartbroken as Rantaro predicted. Her cheeks were covered in tear stains, her nose was running and red. Her eyes are blotchy and swollen. She did her best to look presentable, but even the Ultimate Cosplayer couldn't hide her misery. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I know I'm being so boring right now and-"

"Enough of that." Rantaro frowned as both of the boys moved to be in her lab. The area reminded Shuichi of the backstage or a green room of a show. She had racks of different types of costumes, some of which the backlog chat were animatedly discussing who their favorite anime characters were, and whether or not she'd reference them later in the long run. "Hey...can I hug you, Shirogane-san?"

"I'm all crying and snotty!" Shirogane cried out, her cheeks stained red. "You couldn't-"

"I offered." Rantaro gently coaxed, "Come here." Shirogane didn't seem to be able to hold her ground as she walked towards him as though hypnotized. Kokai watched from the sidelines as they hugged, and Shirogane sniffed. "It's okay," Rantaro whispered, gently stroking her hair. "It's okay. I'm so sorry, Shirogane-san. Yesterday was horrible. For all of us."

"I just wish Chatani-senpai said something." Shirogane whimpered. "I could've done something. I could've told her not to do it. I could've told her to wait. I could've…"

"Done nading." Kokai gently broke the conversation. "She made ‘er choice an' she knew dat id hur' people. Chatani-san an' Yadori-san did deir bes'. Dey wan'ed da escape. Id was a price dey paid."

Rantaro gave him a sharp glare, gripping a little tighter around Shirogane's shoulders and quickly shook his head, as though to warn him about going further.

"No, I know." Shirogane gently pulled away from Rantaro, wiping her eyes and trying to gather herself. "It's just like Death Note when L died, you know? You had all of this hope that they'd wind up friends only for it to be backstabbed and proven wrong." Rantaro and Kokai gave her blank looks, and she giggled nervously. "I'm sorry I don't know how to put it any other way. I'll be okay now. Just gotta keep my chin up. Like Naruto. Believe it!"

"I mean...if that's what makes you feel better." Rantaro rubbed the back of his neck. "It's okay to feel sad though Shirogane-san. We're here to support you no matter what."

"Thank you. You two are excellent friends to me. I'm so happy that a boring and dull girl like me has someone like you two." Shirogane beamed brightly.

"I'm surprised that Mayumi-chan hasn't come by to see you." Rantaro frowned deeply. "I wonder if she's okay."

Tsumugi waved it off. "I told her to go away." She looked down at the ground, distraught and upset. "I said some things...I was really, really angry. I'm a lot calmer now than I had been. I'm sure she's upset with me."

"I dob dat," Kokai assured softly, "Songbird isn' da type da hold a grudge. She understands. Promise."

Shuichi wanted to nod empathetically. While she could be found curled up against someone's door if they were having a hard time, she knew when she wasn't wanted and did leave people alone. Sometimes she knew when someone was just saying it, just to say it rather than mean it. He could remember the times she sat next to him, arms draped around his shoulder as he went through an anxiety attack, trying to shield him. Trying to comfort him. She never wasted her words, she was more than happy to stay silent and just be there.

Tsumugi nodded as well, seemingly getting a hold of herself. "I'll have to make it up to her. Oh, ask her what kind of cosplay she'd do." She looked at the boys. "Please?"

"Sure." Kokai agreed, and Rantaro also nodded his agreement. "Bu' are ya goin' da be okay?"

"I'll be fine...I just...need today is all…" Tsumugi looked at the ground for a moment. "Have you checked in on Yuya-san?"

"No." Rantaro folded his arms. "You think she might need someone to talk to?"

"She loved Yadori-san, so I imagine she'd be just as heartsick as I am over Chatani-chan." Tsumugi shrugged helplessly. "I don't know if anyone's willing to reach out to her since she's a little out there."

[ Loki: Awwww, is this going to be another boring episode? So lame!!!!! ]

[ Shinigami: Ah, that's right, you missed the brutal execution and murder episode, didn't you? ]

[ Loki: Oh no, I saw that with my boyfriend <3. We were ecstatic that the two more boring ones died first. Looks like it wasn't the chemist, after all, Shiny! ]

[ Shinigami: Much to my displeasure, but I still hold the belief firm that she'll be a culprit sooner or later. ]

[ Loki: Are you still thinking that the cosplay chick and guacamole are going to be the survivors? ]

[ Shinigami: You know, my bet on Shirogane-san is wavering just slightly as Mayumi-san has proven herself to be survivor material. At the same time, I have a different theory about her. ]

[ Loki: Are you going to tell? ]

[ Loki: Hey! ]

[ Shinigami: it really is a shame that we're merely separated by a screen. I would love to tear your vocal cords out. That being said, yes. I do have a theory. Yes, I will share it. My first theory is that Mayumi-chan is a Mastermind. ]

Aki? A Mastermind? That was too far off the grid. What good was a mastermind that couldn't remember that they were a mastermind? That just...does not make any amount of sense. It would be a cheap shot as well to try to get her murdered.

[ Seeker: I highly doubt that. ]

[ Shinigami: Granted, that does seem a bit off. My other theory is that she is going to be playing this season's Traitor. ]

Shuichi wondered how much of this was a hidden message, and how much of this was Danganronpa's actual plan. He was going to have to get his uncle to ask about those case files sooner rather than later. He was going to have to see for himself just what kind of an impact this case had made, and why they'd get so angry only to find Aki.

It made him worried about why they didn't bother to go after him…

Unless…

If that was indeed the case, then this was beyond fucked up. Shuichi decided to stomp that theory down until he had more concrete evidence to say that was the case. For now, he needed to focus on what he actually had and what he even knew.

"Danks. Can dat ding find her?" Kokai asked as both of the boys decided to exit the room. "Yuya-chan may na wanna 'alk da us."

"No, but we should try and let her know that she and Shirogane are in the same boat so that they have a support system." Rantaro frowned. "Then we can see how everyone else is doing. We may come across Mayumi-chan that way too."

"...Why do ya care?" Kokai frowned suddenly.

Rantaro froze, and for a moment, Shuichi thought he wasn't going to try to reply. "Do you have any siblings, Kokai-kun?"

"Yes." Kokai nodded. "I have a sis."

"Older or younger?"

"Does id madder?" Kokai frowned a little but thought for a moment. "I'm de old one."

"So maybe you'll get it kind of," Rantaro muttered softly to himself. "Let's just say... I'm an older brother too."

"....Wow." Kokai paused. "You're a bedder, big bro 'han me."

"Why do you say that?"

"If dat was my sis cryin' in dere." He gestured towards the lab behind him. "I'd dell ‘er da suck id up loser."

Shuichi covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. Rantaro let out a startled laugh, as though he hadn't been expecting that.

[ Loki: Wooow. That's cruel. Then again, I'd do the same thing easy peasy. ]

Instead of bantering, Shinigami went oddly silent. Shuichi wondered if this was an intricate subject for the person on the other end of the computer. Not everyone had a good or decent relationship with their sibling.

Shuichi thought back at his relationship with his cousin. He couldn't keep track of how often his cousin went after him and made sure that he was okay. How often she talked him down from an anxiety attack after an anxiety attack, how often she saw him cry. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Aki burst into tears. They fought...but Shuichi couldn't even call those fights. Everyone around them, Kokichi included, tended to say that they acted as though they were on a debate team.

Shuichi remembered when Aki made him cry. He couldn't remember the fight, but he remembered her words: at least my parents didn't abandon me like a puppy at someone's front door. Shuichi held a grudge against her for a while for it; he wondered if he got her back. She always seemed to have such a firm grip on herself...it made Shuichi worry. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her cry.

He turned his attention back to the episode. Rantaro and Kokai were at a tiny little shack that was pretty far away from any of the school buildings. The shack looked as though it were about to crumble. It was barely being held up by anything but nails and some wires. Gonoji was standing on a ladder outside. His pliers were in his hands, and Yuya was standing outside, hands on her hips as she watched.

"What are you two doing?" Rantaro asked.

"Oh, hey, guys! What's crackalackin?!" Yuya grinned, turning to face them. She looked as though she just had gotten a little fried from something. Her clothes were smoking slightly as well as the ends of her hair. "I was trying to fix up my lab, but the wires were all messed up, so I asked Gonoji-kun if he could take a gander at it! Voila!"

"Da need help?" Kokai called up.

"No man, I got it." Gonoji grinned as he jumped down from his position on the ladder and looked at Yuya. "I think we might want to ask Monokuma to give you a better lab. This isn't exactly safe."

"But, it's gonna burn down anyway." Yuya pouted. "What good is a good building if I can't burn it down? The outdoors is my lab anyway, not that tiny little thing."

"Okay, okay!" He laughed, holding his hands out. "I get it. Well, I'll get out of your hair then. You got company, and I don't want to be in the way."

"Actually, I was going to come to find you anyway," Rantaro gave them both a kind smile. "I was just...seeing how you two were doing. Since...yesterday."

"I'm a firm believer that when things go bad, they go bad," Gonoji said simply. "Work keeps the demons away. I'm grateful that I was able to provide it too. I may just be in my lab trying to do something or another." He looked at Yuya. "Unless you think that Shimhara might want me to make the lights brighter on his stage or something."

"God, I don't know with that dick." Yuya frowned. "You can try, but he might just tell you off for thinking that his place is less than perfect."

"Or call ya da help." Kokai's shoulders slumped slightly.

"Now, now, it was a bad day." Rantaro gently chided. "Let's give him a chance to redeem himself."

"Oh, there's no redeeming people like him, Ran-Ran, but you sure as hell can try." Yuya scoffed. "Good luck, Gogai-kun I don't want to be you."

Gonoji laughed but walked off without another word. Rantaro and Kokai watched him leave before turning back to the arsonist, who was looking at her shack with a big smile plastered on her face. Yuya looked exactly like Kokichi would when a big idea hit, and decided to cause problems on purpose. Shuichi wouldn't doubt that her knowledge of fire and explosives would also go into firecrackers and gunpowder.

"You sure you're okay? Shirogane-san…"

"Yadori-san lied to me." Yuya broke Rantaro off. "I know you mean well, but... I'm not really grieving here; I'm fucking furious. I'm gonna lit a bitch and watch it burn. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to do that, which gets the message across. You dig me?"

"You're scary." Kokai let out a short breath. "I dun wanna be on your bad side."

"Aw. You're lovely, Kokai-kun." Yuya beamed, "I don't want to be on yours either. So let's make a promise to not make promises, yeah? They're just gonna get broken in the end. If you excuse me, lads, I have a date with a fire extinguisher. Later, crocodiles."

".... That's not exactly how that phrase goes." Rantaro watched her slam the door of the little shack, and it rattled violently enough that it threatened to fall.

"'Elling her dat will be a mis'ake." Kokai winced, sweating beading down the side of his face. Shuichi didn't doubt that at all. Yuya was stubborn for the sake of it. Talking to her when she was angry wasn't going to get anywhere. She might want to speak when she calmed down some, but...Shuichi couldn't blame her if she decided to hold a grudge. He didn't like people lying either. Kokichi was terrible at it, he drove Shuichi up the wall, but there were differences in the lies that he told and the ones that Yadori had said.

There was a difference in someone murdering to protect someone, and killing because they thought it was the right thing to do. Shuichi tugged on his hat, despite that there was no way they would be able to see him.

The episode ended without any mention of the flashback light, but Shuichi didn't doubt that was going to be the next thing to be touched upon in the next few episodes. That is if no one decided to go after each other without needing much more than a reason. It was disturbing how easy it had been for the first murder to take place. Just a seed of doubt and that was that it took for two people to wind up dead.

That flashback light may not have to even try hard at all to get the rest of the group paranoid enough to kill each other. Shuichi quietly logged off of Danganronpa, his mind whirling over the information that he had received, and the knowledge that he was slowly obtaining.

It wasn't going to be a comfortable night tonight.

[ Stolen Heart: I don't think Aki-chan would be a traitor, do you? ]

Shuichi glanced at the corner of his phone to see that it was nearing three in the morning. Currently, he was trying to figure out a way to sleep, but his mind kept mulling over the information that he had gathered from the game and from Aki's laptop. He couldn't help but feel the same disconnect that most families felt when they were confronted with evidence that the person that they loved wasn't who they thought.

At the same time, Shuichi didn't really ask her about any of it. If he had...would he still be surprised? Maybe. He doubted Jabberwock would've come up in conversation. Regardless, he decided to respond to Kokichi despite how late it was at night. He needed the distraction, and perhaps so did his lover.

[ Me: It's more of a possibility than a mastermind. ]

Shuichi closed his eyes as he rested the phone against his chest, feeling the exhaustion creep upon him. Just how badly did Keiko fuck Danganronpa over?

That night he had the weirdest dream of a train going by, Aki was dangerously close to the edge of the stop. Her hair violently whipping across the wind. He remembered reaching out. He didn't remember the conversation, but he remembered her turning her head towards him, and a simple sentence crashed him awake.

Don't you choke now.

#vengeance #dangnaronpa fanfic #tw: angst #tw: murder #tw: missing persons #tw: mention of torture #tw: mystery #original character x original character #danganronpa v3 ensemble #danganronpa v2 #sdr2 #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #D.I.C.E who do we appreciate?!#oumasai #tw: depression #chapter 12 #trickfindings

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

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Mistletoe Manor - Part 3

Summary: Christmas is the most important time of year for all those who live within Mistletoe Manor. From the staff to the Hawthorne family themselves, everyone works hard to ensure that the festive season is a success every year! We invite you to see if everyone can pull off another magical Christmas at the manor this year.

Pairing: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyun, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong and OCs.

Genre: regency au / romance / christmas au

A/N: Becky ( @noona-clock ) and I wanted to create a magical Christmas for everyone and what better way to do that than at Mistletoe Manor! Because of the nature of having several idols, we chose to work with OCs and we hope you love them as much as we do.

Mistletoe Manor will be posted daily at 10am NZST / 4pm EST daily.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Activity within the manor had increased with the countdown to the opening of the Winter Festival. It was rather chaotic at times and as Cassie made her way downstairs, she almost knocked into Anna carrying a large pile of linen up them.

“Careful, Anna!” she exclaimed and the housemaid sidestepped immediately, balancing the load within her arms precariously. Cassie held out a prepared hand in case the pile began to fall. “Do you need a hand?”

“I’ve got two to spare,” a voice called and Cassie grinned as Taeyong jogged up the stairs to take half of the pile away from the maid.

“What would we do without you, Taeyong?”

“I was doing just fine, My Lady,” Anna mentioned gruffly, shooting the footman a brief glare that made Cassie chuckle as she continued down the stairs. Tensions were heightened because of the flurry in events, though today Cassie’s mood was rather jubilant. Even if she had to step around a stack of deliveries in the foyer, Percy promptly informing her that the back entry was entirely full.

“And you have another letter from the Earl,” the old butler announced, pulling it out from within his breast pocket and handing it over.

“Thank you, Percy. I’ll see to it when I have some time. Is the car ready for our trip to the market setup?”

“It is, My Lady.”

“I’m coming also, sister!” Josephine called from the other end of the foyer, placing on a hat along with her gloves. She came to a hasty stop at Cassie’s side before she grinned. “You cannot leave without me.”

“Why, I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing! What of Evie?”

“Something about a critical moment in a book. I swear, she will never see much of the world if she keeps searching for it within the pages written by others!”

“Perhaps she’s well-versed more than we are, cousin,” Grace mentioned, appearing from the library with a warm smile, reaching out fondly to take Cassie’s hand. “You needn’t worry. Evie has been working on the final touches to the lineup for the festival opening.”

“I never worry when it comes to Evie.”

“Just me?!” Joey concluded and the other two laughed, stepping out into the brisk morning. Winter felt as if it would come early this year, and as Cassie looked to the skies, she was certain it wouldn’t be long until snow was upon the ground.

It made her grip at the letter within her gloved hand more tightly.

“Good morning,” Seo Joon, the family’s chauffeur greeted, opening the back door to the car. Joey got in first and Cassie hesitated, her eyes returning to the front door of the house.

“Is Lydia coming as well?”

“She is just finishing up on a task asked of her, she told me to send her apologies for making our journey to the town delayed,” Seo Joon mentioned and Cassie smiled at him.

“It is no problem to wait. Grace, why don’t you get in next?”

“I have another ride of my own.”

“You do?”

Seo Joon nodded, gesturing to down the drive. “Jaehyun has the cart hooked up with supplies and is waiting not far from here. Safe travels, Miss Grace.”

As Cassie watched her cousin almost run down the driveway to where Jaehyun had indeed been waiting, she couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh. Directing her gaze back to their chauffeur, she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why, I feel you know a great more than I do right now.”

“I am not privy to all knowledge but I do feel Miss Grace enjoys sitting up front in that cart with Jaehyun these days.”

Joey laughed, shaking her head. “It would be such a bumpy ride compared to your smooth driving, Seo Joon.”

“I’ll accept your compliment,” Seo Joon answered with a grin and then gestured for Cassie to climb into the car. She did, and before she could ponder in wonderment over the progression of Grace and Jaehyun’s budding romance, Lydia came rushing through the front door, out of breath.

“I am truly sorry I was so late.”

“Shut the door, Seo Joon,” Cassie instructed and he frowned, looking at Lydia waiting to get in.

“Cassie! Lydia has to get in and with Grace not riding with us she can sit in the back.”

“Nonsense, I need this space here for my uh – my gloves.”

Taking them off immediately, everyone stared at her irrational movement.

“Shall I travel in the front with Seo Joon, My Lady?” Lydia implored, clicking onto Cassie’s mannerisms. Her cheeks were still flushed, though Cassie was certain it was now because of her generous offer.

It wasn’t just Jaehyun and Grace who were feeling things that hadn’t quite been spoken into public knowledge as of yet.

With Lydia in the front and Cassie’s gloves safely on the seat beside her, they started off to the village, both sisters discussing plans in the back seat whilst subtle advances happened in the front. Everyone seemed to be full of spirit once they arrived at the market site, and there was much to go through. Cassie checked the layout of the stalls, the setup up of the lanterns and even spoke with the labourer who had built the stage for the Christmas carollers to stand upon.

“Are you certain it is stable enough? It will hold thirty people most nights,” Lydia, who had spent the majority of her time at Cassie’s side, inquired, her brows knitting together with doubt.

“It does look rather thin in the base, you are right.”

“My Lady, do not fear. The wood I have sourced is incredibly sturdy!” And to make his point, the man climbed onto the stage, welcoming others to join him. Several workers stopped to assist him in his plight and Grace and Jaehyun came over to where they stood.

“I fear it’s not safe wood, if I may speak up about it,” Jaehyun murmured and Cassie glanced up at him, her eyes widening.

“Are you certain? It seems to be holding them well.”

“If we get snow or rain before the cover is erected, it will soften. It’s been cut against the grain.”

“You can tell that from one look?” Seo Joon asked and the gardener nodded. Cassie grew concerned; they had already paid for these materials weeks ago.

“My Lady, it is holding up,” Lydia attempted to console her right when there was a deafening crack. There were several gasps and shrieks as the stage collapsed into its base, cries of pain emanating from several of those within it.

Racing forward, Cassie helped a man out and then looked at the disaster before her. “The festival starts in five days. What will we do?”

It was a nightmare no one had expected so close to the big day. And with the accident, several of the workers were injured, mostly the man who was behind it all.

“I got a good deal on these supplies,” he exclaimed woefully and Josephine patted his lower arm gently before looking to her sister.

“Cassie, I’ll go with the injured to the physician. I know you’ll find a solution whilst I am gone.”

“We have one already,” Seo Joon announced when Cassie moved back to the group from the manor house, pointing at Jaehyun working with a sheet of paper from Grace’s journal. He was sketching out a new stage, and as Cassie looked at his design, she was amazed.

“Are you a carpenter?” Jaehyun glanced up at her and then shook his head. “No, My Lady, but my father is. I learned a lot of his trade when I was still at home.”

“Is there anything you cannot do?” Grace breathed and Cassie smiled momentarily.

Only for her hopes to fall short. “This is wonderful but where will we source materials from and have everything done within five days?”

“Now stop your worrying, My Lady,” Lydia replied firmly, taking Cassie’s hand in hers. “If there’s one thing I know about the staff at Mistletoe Manor is that we rise to the challenge. It will be done.”

Seo Joon had already loosened off a few buttons to his shirt and rolled up his sleeves once his coat was off, conversing with Jaehyun over how to start the structure first. Even Grace had begun helping with the planning; pointing out where she felt the stage would need extra reinforcement. Sharing a somewhat troubled smile with Lydia, Cassie stepped forward to assist as much as she could as well.

By the time they returned home, everyone was exhausted and hungry. Dinner was sombre, Lord Hawthorne making new arrangements to assist Jaehyun and Seo Joon with the project. Their mother had retired early over concerns that the festival may not start on time and Cassie was subdued, forgoing the evening meeting with her sisters and Grace in the drawing room.

It was when she was removing her clothing that she felt the letter she had carried around all day, hesitating to sit down and open it. She craved promising news and with Daehyun’s last letter, Cassie feared it would only bring forth more troubles for her to make her way through.

Still, she needed comfort right now and Daehyun’s letters had become an incredible source of that for her. Just seeing her name scrawled at the top of the letter made her feel some ease from the familiarity of his handwriting. She read through the first two pages that documented his journey of late, and of his questions for her, laughing when he told a tale of how the King had fallen into a mud patch and he hadn’t been able to hold his tongue conservatively. She had discovered her husband was easily amused and could just imagine Daehyun’s improper conduct and his sleepless night before meeting with the King the following day to apologise.

There was no news whether his schedule had changed yet, though he did speak of another Earl, one she had heard of when researching Daehyun. It appeared Yongguk had no plans after the expedition and would accompany him back to the manor.

Still, Cassie didn’t know when that would be and her smile soon faded with his final words.

I do not know when I will see you next but know my heart is with you this season. As it always will be,

Daehyun.

The tears soon began to fall, Cassie overcome with the emotions of everything lately. She had held it together for as long as she could, knowing so many relied on her to be strong and lead the way. It was a curse; she had always been headstrong in a way that made even Josephine turn to her for the right direction whenever she was lost.

But she had no idea which direction she was meant to be going in and it was maddening. Cassie needed someone who would just come in and support her, to allow her to be weak for once. She knew Grace would be there, and yet with her relationship with Jaehyun forming, Cassie didn’t wish to burden her cousin when she was experiencing such joy. And she didn’t want to turn to her parents either. Her father had already been disappointed tonight and he had tasked Cassie with this to do herself. She was prideful, wanting to be successful even if she was exhausted from trying so hard.

Cassie didn’t hear the door open; however, she felt the arms that wrapped around her, gazing through her tears at Lydia before burying herself into the woman. If there was anyone who had seen Cassie at her absolute worst, it was her. They were close and the lines often blurred between their roles and friendship. Breaking down further, Cassie didn’t wish to imagine life when she left the manor.

Even if she was eager to start her married life with Daehyun now, she didn’t wish to lose the strongest ally she had at her side either.

“Let us get up from the floor, hm?” Lydia coaxed, helping Cassie to her feet and over to her bed. She remained in a daze and Lydia removed her stockings, patting her knees gently when she was done. “Is it not good news with your husband?”

“I…” Cassie started, knowing there had been so much she had kept within. She had spoken of her concerns with Daehyun’s delay to Grace and felt much better after doing so. There was so much more troubling her though and Lydia’s gentle encouragement opened the floodgates. It took her some time to explain all her worries, with some breaks needed as the fresh tears fell and soaked into her nightgown. Lydia hadn’t said much; in fact, the only constant was her hand in Cassie’s, prompting her words out until there were no more to give.

Hugging her, Lydia finally took in a breath before speaking. “For this moment in time, I will speak to you as a friend and not someone who serves this family, okay? Cassie, you are placing too much onto your shoulders. We are all here for you and this festival will go off without a hitch. You have worked too hard for it not to. I know the setback startled you but you are surrounded by so many people who wish to help you. And they will if you just ask that of them.”

“I feel so lost, I-I don’t even know who to talk to or who to ask what of.”

Lydia smiled, brushing the remnants of her tears away. “So tell them. Tomorrow at the meeting, tell everyone. Allow others to lead until you are ready to do so again.”

“Oh, I couldn’t burden-”

“When is it ever a burden when it comes to you, Cassandra Hawthorne? You have given up so much of yourself for everyone else. Let us carry you just this once.”

_________________

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brntwd · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER ONE : curiosity leads to trouble .

scene transcript between henri rousseau, jasper atkinson, roman keating, banks delcoy, thalia pham, and the scott family . on june 4th, 2020 .

opening: it’s the last house on persimmon lane . a little one on stilts . the sort of house that looks like maybe it’s seen a hurricane or two in it’s day –– the blue paneling is slowly bleaching white in the sun . there’s quite a few loose planks here and there, as you bramble up the porch, and the dock that juts out awkwardly into the water from the yard is blocked off by a fallen tree . there's a very overgrown quality to the landscaping, if you could call it that . a porcelain bathtub full of spearmint plants lay on it's side in the tall grass . there were several newly broken bird feeders . a neon sign flashes in front of lace curtains in the window . you see only candlelight through the windows . they probably don't have power back yet . PSYCHIC / PALM / TAROT / TEA / BY APPOINTMENT ONLY .

thalia pham: lia isn't too familiar with the scott household, given that she's a woman of science and doesn't believe in any of that crap. that doesn't mean she doesn't have respect for the scotts--whatever they're doing, they're probably taking lots of money from dumb middle aged rich white women who complain about balancing their chakras, the perfect group to scam. people like that are just desperate to find "culture" in a small place like brentwood. if there's a place to do so, though, it certainly looks like this house. she's standing on the porch with the boys, reluctant to take the initiative and knock on the door. "not it!" she exclaims, waiting to see who will draw the short end of the stick.

henri rousseau: most of the year he simply longs to be considered a proper member of the gang. being able to properly take part without feeling like he's missing out. today he's just happy he can play the semi-innocent tourist card... like he hasn't skated past the scott house umpteen-million times over the years. no. he's playing innocent, trying his best not to dig his hands in his pockets ( and curse himself further, if that's a thing) as he rocks on his heels. there are times when he knows to shut his mouth, and this is most definitely one of them... well, that is, until thalia mentions not being it and his jaw drops. "what?! nu-uh. if thalia's not it, i'm not either. i mean..." he purses his lips, "i know i have it, but like... if i'm cursed these could be my final moments! going out after knocking on a door is not really how i pictured it happening." banks delcoy: there's something about the house post - hurricane that makes him . . . uneasy. not in a this place gives me the creeps way, but more in a way that banks can't quite put a name to. beneath the gray sky, it feels too vibrant and too aged all at once. banks is shaking his head already as he swallows back a gulp of water from the two whales cup grasped loosely in his hand. he supposes that he should be the one to take the leap -- he pitched coming here in the first place -- but instead he just leans against the white - washed banister. "i second lia. not it." roman keating: the atmosphere feels akin to what he imagines it would be in one of those movies cecilia used to love so much; the one she swore to him he’d love in return because it was supernatural. it turned out to be a romantic comedy about sister witches but he never complained. he stands behind the rest of them on the scott porch and crosses his arms over his chest with a heavy exhale, hoping the brittle wood didn’t concave from their combined weight. they were sticking their nose in something they had no business knowing ( if it was anything at all ). for all they knew, this could end up being a wild goose chase. roman’s right eyebrow raises and arms lift to protest. “i don’t even want to be here, let alone touch that damn door,” he opposes with a scoff. “japser can do it if he’s so worried about giving henri peace of mind or whatever.”

jasper atkinson: jasper had walked selene home after work whenever they got off at the same time. it was on the way to his apartment anyway, so it hardly mattered to him. while he didn’t believe any of the bullshit that spewed out of her mouth, he knew she did wholeheartedly, and so he respected it. who was he to knock her down? everyone had their thing that got them through life. “you guys are ridiculous. it’s a fuckin’ door.” he goes up to it and rings the doorbell, but there’s no sound inside. so instead, he knocks on the door. scott family . “ do you have an appointment ? ” after a lot of dramatics about who was going to have to answer the door, it is eventually fiona who does it . six years old and forty inches high . she’s wearing her belle from beauty in the beast costume over a pair of polkadot pajama pants . she opens the door just two inches, like she was told to, and asks again, louder : “ DO YOU HAVE AN APPOIIIINTMENNNNNN–– ? ” she was rudely interrupted by her mother, who now stood in the doorway . thirties, bright blue eyes, brighter blue overalls, bandana, juice box . lavender gave her daughter the capri sun and then ushered her back into the house . “ awfully sorry . we don’t have power back yet . ” she wipes sweat from her brow and starts her own capri sun . “ i’m afraid we’re closed . come back again . . . well, leave us a voicemail . we’ll call you back when we have phones again . take care . ” thalia pham: lia patiently waits as they finally pressure jasper into getting things done. she knows it's coming, because it always eventually happens. when the door swings open, though, thalia's met by someone closer in height to her than the boys--an adorable young girl with a loud mouth. when her mother tries to turn them away, thalia rushes to stop it from happening. they'd come this far already, right? "wait! we have kind of an urgent matter on our hands here. please?" henri rousseau: the brief sound of bickering is quickly replaced by the sound of henri's heartbeat in his head at the thought of having to head home with the chain."please." he repeats, almost as soon as it's left lia's mouth, if but a little desperately. "i, uh, i found something. a necklace. in amongst the debris on the beach but it... was like it didn't belong." his brow furrows and he briefly wonders whether or not to take it out of his pocket right there on the porch. "it just... it doesn't feel right."

banks delcoy: when a young girl begins calling out the door, a crooked smile threatens to twist at his lips. it's, admittedly, a little endearing. she fits right in with the neon signs casting technicolor shadows across his friend's faces. another woman swiftly replaces her and he's edges forward a step when lia cuts in. after a beat, banks nods toward henri in assent. "even a picture of the thing feels weird. we thought you all might be able to help." ilene scott: “ yeah, ” lavender looks between the fiery one and the curly ones . “ well . that’s weird . put it back where you found it . ” as she’s closing the door, there’s a voice from the candlelit kitchen . “ lavender, they’re going to think you were raised in a barn with those manners . please, come in . i’m making iced tea . ” lavender sighs, but ultimately waves a hand to welcome them inside . she huffs up the stairs . to the right, there was a small yellow kitchen that was affectionately lit by the natural carolina sun pouring in through the windows and the hundreds and hundreds of candles . ilene, town psychic and blue grass fanatic, waved for everyone to have a seat at the table . well, probably someone’s gonna have to sit on the counter . and maybe someone needs to pull up a stool . “ lets have a look at it, then . ” jasper atkinson: at this point, jasper felt like all he really needed was to be there for henri. he knew that he’d just about short circuit if he had to explain himself at this point. so, he sat next to him, hoping his presence would be enough. “i haven’t seen it yet, but if it’s real, based off of the picture, i’d date it at about 18th century.” his gaze shifted to his cousin. “show her, henri. it’s okay.” henri rousseau: there's always a bit of hesitancy whenever he takes the lead in something. more noticeable in his step as he makes his way across the kitchen - even if there is something oddly soothing about the interior of the house. but it's jasper's presence that finally gets him to stop twiddling his thumbs. just like it could when they were kids. "right, yeah, of course," he murmurs, digging in his pocket for a moment before pulling the chain out and laying it on the table. "it um, it's sorta alright like this. but when i looked at it more closely it... it sounded like it was whispering to me." ilene scott: “ where’d you find it ? ” she narrows her eyes at henri . henri rousseau: "on the beach... just slightly buried in the sand." ilene scott: she looks between the pendant and the group of people surrounding it . “ well . lets see then . ” she reaches behind her and grabs a deck of tarot cards from the kitchen counter . they’re barbie pink . she passes the deck first to the curly boy who found the necklace . “ shuffle, pick one, pass it on . all of you pick one and put it down on the table . ” henri rousseau: normally there would at least be a smile on his face at the colour of the cards. a reminder of the shade his step-sister sometimes insists on painting his nails with. but there’s something about the potential of being cursed that has him on edge, focussing more on the cards as he shuffles them than any offhanded remarks he could otherwise be making. although it takes a great deal of energy not to snort when he finally puts the card that feels right down on the table. the fool. were the cards really pointing out how much how much of a mistake picking up the necklace was too? he doesn’t know how tarot works well enough to say it, but it certainly feels that way. thalia pham: lia watches as henri draws the fool, looking a bit embarrassed by how on the nose it is. she doesn't really get tarot cards and their supposed duality, but it would be rude to refuse. she slides the top card off of the deck and turns it over, placing it neatly in front of her. the sun. she feels warm.

roman keating: an impatient foot taps the ground beneath him. “this is all a load of crap, right?” he inquires of the older woman who has dealt them the deck. when the cards end up in his hands, there’s a force that urges him to pull straight from the bottom. roman flips the card over to observe its depiction; the tower. all he sees is destruction. the structure's been lightning struck and bound to crumble, inhabitants falling from the sky are set to crash. he presses his lips into a thin line. banks delcoy: banks can hear his mother's voice in the back of his mind as he takes the deck from roman -- she had always said his curiosity is what would damn well get him in the end. little corbin banks had never believed her, of course, as he never had any intention of getting caught in the little excursions his intrigue would pull him toward. as a child, it had been harmless things — like sneaking out of his room at night to see what the grown - ups did from his perch at the top of the stairs in their small two - story, tiny hazel eyes peering brightly like a cat's from between the spindles of the banister. this curiosity would morph into less harmless acts as he got older, and no matter how much he thought he got away with, leah banks always knew what went on in her own home. and he can't help but wonder what she'd say now. banks has no idea what any of . . . this means, but there's a tug in his chest that yearns for understanding. that same tug has him pulling from the middle of the deck -- the card he flips onto the table reads wheel of fortune. hm. jasper atkinson: as he watched all of his friends flip over their cards, information flowed through his mind. he'd read about all of this before, and thus, knew what each card that was flipped over meant. memories of sitting at the library, going over books in the metaphysical section, trying to grasp a sense for anything that might save him from his life. but the more he read, the more he realized it was all bullshit escapism. that didn't stop him from retaining the information, however, and it didn't stop the smile from curling up the corner of his lips as he watched henri and lia pull the fool and the sun. it was quickly erased when he noticed the tower and the wheel of fortune pulled immediately after. he knew what the tower meant, and the wheel of fortune, of course, could go either way. but no, he didn't believe in it. he took the deck for himself, split it in two (as he read was customary) and then picked from the top. two cards came out stuck together, and when he was about to place one back, ilene stopped him. told him that both cards were meant for him. he nodded and handed her the deck, then gently and carefully placed his cards down on the table. the chariot and the hierophant. he knew what they meant apart, but not together. fuck, he hated not knowing things. hated having to rely on other people for information. he looked up at ilene, trying to mask whatever anxiety he was feeling. ilene scott: ilene watches carefully . her expression is indiscernible . after a long while . she waited for the boy who chose two cards to finish before she moved . ilene drew two more cards from the deck . the star . the magician . she slid them into the middle of the table, careful not to let them touch the pendant . she says : “ you’ve found it . it’s starting . hooray . you’re not going to be able to use it until you find them . ” she sips her iced tea . she doesn't look at the gemstone on the table .

jasper atkinson: he furrows his brow, a sudden rage filling his chest that he quickly pushes down. "are you just gonna be cryptic like that or are you gonna give us some real information?" thalia pham: thalia reaches over to squeeze jasper on the arm. now is not the time to snap, even if she agrees that this hasn't been ...the most helpful, yet. she gives him a reassuring smile, to calm him down. jasper atkinson: and just like that, the anger in his chest cools to a simmer. as he makes eye contact with thalia, he knows exactly what shes thinking. shes with him, and she would handle this better than he ever could. she was always better at talking to people than he was. he placed his hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze before looking back down at his own cards, then at all of the cards on the table, as if putting together pieces of a puzzle. banks delcoy: his attention skips across the cards and while he couldn't begin to interpret what any of this means, seeing them all together feels -- right, maybe? complete? eventually he looks up to ilene. "what's starting?" something, though, tells him he's asking the wrong question. thalia pham: thalia fixes her gaze on banks' own display of confusion. she draws her arm back, folding it across her chest with the other. "and what do we need to find?" ilene scott: she sort of just listens to their questions . nodding along while ripping open a sweet n low packet and pouring it into her iced tea . finally, she looks at the wheel and then to the sun . “ good . ” lavender, who it has become clear was hiding behind the door way into the room and listening to the conversation, interrupts with a throat clear . “ would you kindly get that thing off the kitchen table ? ” she looks at the pendant . “ we don’t want any part of this dust you’re kicking up . treasure huntin’ is not known for being a profession in which people live particularly long . ” ilene says nothing , stirring her tea . jasper atkinson: treasure hunting. jasper looks up. sudden interest sparking his eye. how much was this necklace worth? could he go to college with the money? would henri share? what if he found his own bit of treasure? if anyone could solve the puzzle, it would be him. but the cards on the table told him this was something they all had to do together. it was a piece of the puzzle. he didn't say a word. part of him not wanting to get his hopes up at the thought of a way out. banks delcoy: it's almost as if the mention of treasure hunting has his heart pausing it's pace in the cage of his ribs. mind briefly flashes to his grandfather. "are you talking about the prospero?" maybe he's pushing his luck, but there's a sense that time to ask questions is running out. "is that what this is from?" closing: " no, " lavender says, crossing her arms, still staring at the pendant . " it's about time you should be getting home, now . have a safe trip home . " she starts to swipe iced tea glasses and empty them in the sink . ilene says : " next time, consider making an appointment . and yes, take that with you . you've met the other two . you just don't know that you've met them . certainly though, you lot are starting to kick up some dirt . it's starting . bye bye, now . " armed with a reusable bag filled with mostly candy but also what could feasibly pass as groceries, selene roller skates home from work . to her understandable surprise, her front porch was rather populated . there was : a bunch of kids she went to high school with, the guy who works at her restaurant, and a tourist . weird . she stood there, and watched, and said nothing . she tilted her head . then she went inside the house and closed the screen door behind her . she looked at her grandmother . and her aunt . she said : “ what the fuck ? ” fiona, who chose now to come out from under the kitchen table, said : “ they didn’t have an appointment . ”

#lhq:update #transcript.#chapter one.#:boom:#:hammer:

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bssaz97 · 4 years

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Post RWBY AU

* Wanted to try something new and see how it goes, mainly a two parter but may continue if ever now and then, but it’s not related to Ancestries. So you all don’t get confused. Will contain happy and sad moments. *

- Patch, on the edge of a cliff -

A boy walks near to the edge, he has the custom to come here almost once every month. Many in his family don’t discourage him to go but usually he comes along with his mother or aunt. Today, he comes alone because he recently got into a argument with said mother and he decided to leave the house to cool off despite his aunt’s plea to do otherwise. He slumps in front of a tombstone. The memorial of his grandmother.

Boy: Hey grandma, it’s me again. I know I came two weeks ago but I can’t be at home right now.

He sighed, he knew it was not going to get a reply but he usually feels better coming here, like even if had never met her before.

Boy: I got into a argument with Mom. A pretty big one too. I....I told her that I wanted to start training to be a huntsman. I thought she would be happy to hear that I wanted to be a hero like her and Dad, but then she started getting upset, said that I was being rash and not weighing my options, that I should just stay in regular school. It’s not fair, everybody I know started their training when they were my age, and even then Dad was older when he started his. What makes me so different.

He sits down, and thinks back to a year ago when he was 11 years old, when he really started to think about being a huntsman. Now that he was 12 he could legally begin attending Signal, the combat school here on Patch, and start his training, but was hesitant to bring it up with his Mom. She was a retired huntress and from what her stories told was a pretty famous one at that. Almost everyone in his family group were former huntsman and huntresses.

Everyone except his biological aunt, she was the coolest person he knew, always taking hardest jobs and always came back with a victorious carefree smile on her face but made time to spend time with him and his twin sister, she was cool like that. But whenever he or anybody else tried to mention his father or ask questions about him, it seemed to bring the mood down. However they all kept a strong face whenever he or his sister was in the room. He frowned at this, he knew he was young but he wasn’t stupid. What’s worse is that his Mom does this the most, she tries always to be happy all the time when around him, his sister and her friends, but he could knows of times wear her mask breaks when she thinks he’s not looking or asleep and could hear her cry herself to sleep.

His mom wasn’t a terrible parent by any means she’s always active in their life, taking him and his sister on vacation trips to Atlas to see his aunt Weiss or to Mistral to visit his godparents Ren and Nora and always makes sure that his sister and him are always doing well in school. His Aunt Penny also helps out a lot when she’s not busy saving the world as she so often says. So really, he loves his mother dearly, and knows she loves him. That’s why when he told her of his goal to be a huntsman, her mask broke. Her warm smile wasn’t there and her warm silver eyes weren’t alive with love, instead she had the look as if he just signed to be hurled off a building in Atlas. He can remember what she told him. Still fresh in his mind.

*///Flashback Twenty minutes ago///*

His family is together for a dinner together that his Mom made and his sister and Aunt are at the table with him while his mom brings the dinner to the table. But when asked by his Aunt what he did today in school, he tells her that they were doing a project about what they were going to do when they grow up. His Aunt calling it cute and pinching his cheek with her robotic hand. She asks him what he plans to do, he tells his family with happiness that he wants to be a huntsman when he grows up. The peaceful atmosphere ends when his mom dropped the plate of pasta at hearing his declaration.

*Clang!*

Mom: ...What?

Boy: Um, I said that I wanted to start-

Mom: No, what heard you said. (Rubs her face) What I mean is why? Why do you want to be a huntsman? Of all things?!

Boy: What? But I thought you would be happy. I thought about this for a long time and it’s what I want to do. I mean everyone in our family is practically huntsmen and huntresses, I just want to be one too Mom.

Mom: Do you even know what you’re asking about?! A huntsman Rowan, that’s the most dangerous job on the planet and it’s not one to make a joke about!

Boy(Now names Rowan): It’s not a joke though. I really want to be a huntsman, I talked with cousin Adrian during our last trip to Argus. He said that if I could have my Aura unlocked and get the necessary paperwork, I could go to Signal academy next year after I’m done with Primary school. He even said it wouldn’t be hard we could get the paperwork easy if a parent or guardian goes with me to fill it out.

Mom: ...No.

For him, Rowan’s world stopped. He could see that his Aunt lost her smile and had a look of concern. His sister also looked shocked and cowered in her chair, afraid to get involved because she has never heard her mom sound so grim before. He couldn’t believe it either she looked at him like there was no room for argument and that anything said otherwise she would refuse. Something was growing inside him, an unpleasant feeling. Towards his sweet Mom.

Yang: Look I can tell this was a bad topic to bring up. Sorry Rubes, here I can help remake dinner if you-

Rowan: (With a quivering voice) What do you mean ‘No’?

Ruby: I mean I’m not taking you to get those documents. Your not going to become a huntsman.

Rowan: But why?! You’re not even going to at least consider it!

Ruby: I’ve already considered it, and my answer is no. That’s final Rowan.

Rowan: But that’s not fair!

Ruby: Don’t raise your voice at me young man!

Rowan: But you’re not listening to me! I want to be a huntsman, that’s my dream, I even wrote a paper and everything about it, Aunt Yang helped me write it too.

Ruby: Yang!

Yang:(Raises her arms in defense) Hey, in I’m defense I thought he was just writing another school paper so I just helped him with the thesis. I didn’t know he was gonna base his career on it.

Rowan: But you agree with me don’t you!

Yang: Oooh, really you’re dragging me under the bus too kid.~ Weeeell, I do think you should consider your options.

Ruby: Consider his- You’re agreeing with him!

Yang: Hey I never said that!

Rowan: But you just said-!

Yang: I know what I said! I just...think you should listen to your mom kiddo, right now.

Rowan couldn’t believe this, his mom turned his aunt against him and for the first time in his life he snapped back.

Rowan: Who are you to decide what I should do with my life! It’s... It’s... It’s bullshit!

Ruby:(Gasps) How dare you take that language with me young man! Now consider yourself grounded for a week.

Rowan: Wha- Why?!

Ruby: Because you’re talking back and being disrespectful!

Rowan: I don’t care if I’m being disrespectful you’re basically ruining my dream!

Ruby: Well I do care! I care that you’ll be safe and not in a dangerous environment where you can get killed!

Rowan: And what, die like Dad did?!

Rowan felt whatever fight he had left him after saying those last few words. He knew the weight they had and regretted it immediately. His mother’s face changed from angry to stunned. The room lost light in that moment at his moment of anger had caused. His mom’s mouth began to quiver, her left hand began covered her mouth and she tried to hold back the sobs that were fighting to come out.

Yang: Ruby...

His aunt tried to put her hand on his mom shoulder but she shrugged it off and excused herself out of the Kitchen. After watching her walk off, his aunt looked towards him and she bore into him. She had the angriest and most disappointed expression on her face he had ever seen, and he knew why.

Yang: That was a low blow Rowan, if I were you, I probably would just go to your room, right now.

After her scolding, she began to follow after his mom. He looks towards the table, contemplating how a happy dinner between his family quickly turned into one of the worst moments in his young life. He looks to his sister and sees that she is cradling herself, clearly hurt by his words as well.

Rowan: Summer...

She leaves her chair and runs up to the second floor towards his room and slams the door. He messed up, he knew he did. Rowan single handily upset everyone in his family. He felts bitter tears began to swell in his eyes, then he runs. Except he doesn’t run to his room like he was told, he instead runs out of the house and into the woods. He couldn’t stand being home right now, not after what he just did.

*\\\End of flashback\\\*

Rowan finished telling his tale to his grandma’s tombstone and wipes away some fresh tears from his eyes. But finds it difficult as they come more than he could wipe away.

Rowan: (sobbing) I didn’t mean to take it that far, it just came out. I didn’t mean to make my mom cry like that. What kind of son makes their own mother cry. She probably hates me right now.

He continues to cry his eyes out for a couple more minutes. Until he hears something approach from a few feet behind him. He looks back sees three Beowolves closing in on him. He’s too petrified to move and couldn’t make a sound. As the three Grimm move to pounce on him he throws himself back and outstretched his arms to shield himself. He thought he was a good as dead until something happened.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

He looks past his arms and sees a man standing there with the three Beowolves dissolving into ash. He holsters what looks like a revolver into his overcoat and looks in his direction.

Stranger: Young boy, what are doing here all by yourself at this time of day...or night I should say.

The Stranger looks about the same age as his mother but bears a strong resemblance to his aunt Weiss. He even has the white hair and pale complexion. However his eyes are a light blue than his auntie’s artic blues.

Rowan:(Wipes his face) Nothing...who are you?

Stranger: Well that’s rude. Asking a stranger who they are without a hello or asking their name first.

Rowan: (Standing up) Sorry, my mom- nevermind. What’s your name?

Stranger: Well that’s better, my name is Whitley. What’s yours?

Rowan: It’s Rowan. Say, not to be rude but are you related to someone by the name Weiss Schnee?

Whitley: Huh, small world. Yes I do in fact know Weiss Schnee. She’s my older sister in fact.

Rowan: Really? Because I’ve never heard of you before sir.

Whitley: ‘Huff’, older but still the same aren’t you Weiss. Well I typically don’t stay in Atlas all the time. I’m sort of a traveler for hire.

Rowan: You mean like a Huntsman! (Beans)

Whitley:(Chuckles) Not exactly. Say how do you know my sister by the way.

Rowan: Well she’s my aunt, well not my real aunt just a close family friend who my mom and real aunt treat like a sister. Which would kind of make her my aunt, which is wired because I have other people who I call aunts and uncles but aren’t physically related to me. Which is why I am surprised to meet you right now because I’ve never heard of you before. I mean I normally ever see auntie Weiss whenever we got to Atlas or she comes during the holidays. By the way do you- mmmfh! (Whitley covers his mouth to stop his chatter)

Whitley: Good lord, you really are long winded aren’t you kid. (Takes away his gloved hand) So back to topic, why are you out here by yourself?

Rowan:(Looks down and begins to look neverous) I...I don’t want to be home right now.

Whitley:(Furrows his brow and kneels down) How come?

Rowan: Well...I said something that really upset my mom and now, I don’t want to go home.

Whitley: Oh come on, what you said couldn’t possibly be that bad.

Rowan: I did though! I made her cry all because...I mentioned my dead dad.

Whitley: ...Well damn, I guess you did fuck up pretty bad.

Rowan: 'Gasp' Swear!

Whitley: ...How old are you boy? 10?

Rowan: I’m 12! And swears are bad.

Whitley:(Rubs the bridge of his nose) My lord you really are Ruby Rose’s son.

Rowan: Huh you know my mom.

Whitley: Yes I do, in fact I’m visiting a friend of mine her on a business venture with a fellow colleague of mine. Who I’m guessing is your aunt.

Rowan: You know my Auntie Yang!

Whitley: Yes I do, but I really think we should be heading back to your house. Your family’s probably worried sick.

Rowan: ...I don’t think so. I wouldn’t doubt that they hate me.

Whitley: ‘Huff’ Look Rowan, take from a person who has been where you are. Your mother doesn’t hate you, if anything, if she’s the Ruby Rose I know she’ll be more concerned about you being out here by yourself then anything you said to her. So come on let’s get you home.

Rowan: ...I guess you’re right.

Whitley: Of course I’m right, most of the time I always am. So let’s go.

Rowan: Ok....you have no idea how to get to my house do you?

Whitley:(Chuckles) Was kind of hoping you wouldn’t figure that out.

#rwby lancaster #ruby x jaune #ruby rose #yang xiao long #whitley schnee #my ocs #family angst #rwby rowan rose #rowan rose #lancaster child

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Ridge farm memories; Queen x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Well this fic is DEFINITELY LONG OVER DUE!!!! For those who were fans of the Deacy fic “Always family” here is a scene I decided to do based off the comforting scene Roger and reader-chan had. So no warnings except RAW FLUFF but if I had to add a warning, it would be that SOB Paul makes an appearance. But other than that this is a SUPREME FLUFF FIC. So I hope you all enjoy this fic as well as the last one I just posted up :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@geek-and-proud

__________________________________________________

I was downstairs in the kitchen sitting between Deacy and Brian eating my breakfast while they were in the middle of an argument regarding Rog's new song.

"Put my heart and soul into this song." Roger spoke up as he cut up a loaf of bread.

"No one is disputing that." Answered Deacy.

"And you don't like it because you want your songs on the album." Roger retorted.

"It's not that Roger."

"Then what is it?"

"'I'm in love with my car?'" Answered Brian as my cousin shrugged giving him one of his funny looks. "Maybe it's not strong enough?" suggested Brian.

"What does that even mean not strong enough?"

"I know that I'm late, what did I miss?" Freddie's voice soon spoke up.

"They're talking about Roger's car song." I filled Fred in on the details as he came over and kissed the top of my head before getting himself a cup of coffee.

"Is it strong enough that's all I'm asking. If I'm on my own here, then I apologize." Brian spoke up as he raised his hands in defense.

"How does your new song go then? Hmm?" Roger picked up a sheet of paper that had Brian's current song that he was working on as he read out loud, "'You call me sweet, like I'm some kind of cheese'."

"It's good." Defended Brian.

"Wow." Roger exclaimed sarcastically.

"Is that, you know 'with my hands on your grease gun?' That's very subtle...."

"It's a metaphor Brian!"

"It's just a bit weird Roger, what exactly are you doing with that car?" my cousin spoke up.

"Children please. We could all murder each other but then who would be left to record this album?" Freddie spoke up.

"Statistically speaking most bands don't fail, they break up." Deacy piped in.

"Deacy!" I slapped his arm.

"What the hell would you say something like that?" Freddie asked Deacy as he stared at him in shock. Deacy merely shrugged before Freddie turned to Roger and said, "Roger there's only room in this band for one hysterical queen." Before walking out to probably have a smoke break.

"I know why you're angry Roger." Brian spoke up.

"Why?" demanded Roger.

"Because you know your song isn't strong enough." Roger grew quiet and he nodded before walking back over to the oven, grabbing the bacon from the pan and throwing it straight at Brian who was unaffected by it.

"Oh great, now you've done it. Way to go, Bri." I muttered quietly just before the bacon hit Brian square in the face.

"Is that strong enough?" Then with one quick motion, Roger knocked everything off the counter, all our food, plates, the vase full of flowers, everything except our mugs that we each held as Roger roared out again, "What about that!?!" He then went and grabbed the coffee machine and was just about to smash it when we all exclaimed to him.

"NOT THE COFFEE MACHINE!!"

It's been a few days since we've moved from Rockfield studios here to Ridge farm studio to record the 'A Night at the Opera' album. And so far if I had to compare the two, I'd say I'd like this one a lot more because it had a nice pool to take a morning dip and it was a lot more spacious than Rockfield was because there was also a wooded area just behind us where we could hike, hell even campout if we wanted to.

After breakfast I decided to take my morning swim since I knew Paul would be breathing down my neck about getting all the pictures the record company required during this trip, and of course bash on how most of them didn't include more pictures of Fred. So I figured a little relaxing swim would do me some good, plus it'd get me away from the stress the guys are having to be under especially after what had just happened at breakfast.

As I passed the kitchen heading for the backdoor, I felt something grab my arm and I was pulled into a dark room. I was about to scream when I heard Roger's voice say.

"Don't scream it's just me." I shoved his hand away from my mouth and I hissed out in a whisper.

"What the fuck Roger you know I hate it when you do that."

"Why are you whispering?"

"Wha? I don't know. What are you doing here in this cupboard?" I first questioned in a whisper but then spoke in normal volume.

"Lesson number one you'll learn from your dear old professor Taylor my dear. Is that when you want something but other's won't give them what they want, you protest against them."

"Seriously Rog?"

"Yeah, I stayed up all night putting that song together, the least they could do is allow it in the album. I mean we went with John's sappy song. God if I have to hear that line one more time, I think my ears will just explode."

"Okay one that song is special to him cause it's for Veronica. And second and most importantly, why drag me in here with you?"

"That leads to my rule two, in order to get this less biased, you need people to support you in your cause." I just looked at him weirdly and when I didn't respond the way he was hoping he spoke up again, "What you think the song's stupid too?"

"Well I mean it's—"

"Don't you dare finish that answer." I shut my mouth before speaking up.

"I mean Roger you've got to slightly admit; it does sound like you're trying to do something more with a piece of machinery."

"It's a metaphor (y/n)."

"For what? Your car sex fantasy? Roger please let me out of this cupboard right now, I just want to go for my morning swim."

"Well it can wait; cause you're not going anywhere."

"What?"

"This has now turned into a hostage situation and you're not leaving till either you accept and be my partner in this, or the lads finally accept and have the song go on the album. Whatever one comes first. You are the Rumpelstiltskin to my Mungoblizzar."

"What?"

"You know the two cats from that poem you love so much. I see you read it all the time and you even read it to me."

"Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer?"

"Yeah that's it. Why are they named that again?"

"I don't know I'm not T.S Eliot."

"So partners in crime till the end. Like we pact."

"Yeah Rog we did make a pact, but I draw the line here."

"Nope, since I'm the oldest between us, you've got to respect your elders and you are going to stay in here with me to protest against them. Whether you like it or not." He bopped my nose which made me groan.

Hours went by and of course once the guys found out that roger forcefully made me the bait of negotiation, it turned between a tug of war to see who'd give in first. Until finally Freddie agreed to have Roger's song be on the B-side of the album.

God and all I wanted to do that day was have a nice relaxing morning swim.

A couple more weeks passed and the album was almost about done. One day Brian had told us that he had managed to find a perfect spot for stargazing and thought it would be a good idea for all of us to pack up some gear and go star gazing.

Immediately agreeing after working so hard, Freddie agreed to the idea instantly, Deacy was down for it as well wanting to have a break from the arguing and the complaining. I agreed to it because it would feel like a camping trip and I hadn't been camping since I was a child. Roger also agreed because that'd give him some time away from the recording studio since his hands were still recovering from abusing them so much.

Unfortunately Paul Prenter decided he needed to insert himself on this little outing, claiming that he needed to make sure the band wasn't too distracted since they were on a strict deadline and that Mr. Reid would come and check on the progress of the album, along with Miami.

So here we all were out in the forest walking across logs, hopping from boulder to boulder, gazing at little mini streams, or observing the wildlife of nature, especially Brian. He especially got distracted when a fox would quickly come out from a bush and stare at us before running away.

I was currently hopping from boulder to boulder and of course Deacy being the overprotective cousin that he was said to me.

"Careful (y/n), last time you did that you had a broken ankle for weeks."

"I was 7 years old when that happened Deacy, I'm as agile as a jungle cat." As I hopped onto one boulder I nearly almost fell until I was caught by Roger who said smugly.

"Yeah, a dead jungle cat." I stuck my tongue at him and we continued to tread on.

Of course Paul made the walk seem longer because like every 2 minutes he just had to take a break so I took the time to screw around with him and fill his backpack with small rocks. Roger who of course supported my pranks on Prenter kept watch to make sure the other three didn't rat me out.

As we came down a step hill. I first got on the log and walked down it before squealing out and jumped onto the boulders below.

"Careful guys, that last step is pretty steep."

"Thanks for the warning love." Brian spoke out as he came down next, followed by Roger, Freddie and Deacy. While Paul mainly crawled along the rocks like the snake that he was exhausted and winded.

"Ohh I'm going to kill my doctor. He always said I was in perfect shape." Before we could go on, Brian then spoke up.

"Alright, we'll break."

"Again?" complained Roger. "Brian, at this rate it'll take us a week just to get to this special spot you found."

"Look I don't like it either but since it's not too far from here we'll just rest for a bit, allow Paul to catch his breath and we'll walk the rest of the way. Just chill Roger." He then walked on ahead with Deacy and Fred walking alongside them to talk while I slowly sneaked back behind Paul who had taken his backpack off and I proceeded to quickly fill more pockets of his bag with rocks.

"God I'm in such bad shape. Someone had me my water, I can't move."

"I got it." I said. I soon found his water bottle lying between the two boulders that we were sitting on top of but what I found interesting was the little lizard just a couple inches from his water bottle just sunning on the rock. A smirk spread across my face as I whispered, "Brilliant."

I grabbed the lizard which squirmed between my fingers till I set her down on Paul's bottle. I turned to Roger to see him trying to hold in his laughter as I said as I handed Paul his water bottle.

"Here you go Paul." He took it without even looking at me let alone thanking me as he immediately began to douse his water down his throat. A split second later he let out a scream as he fell off the boulder and screamed like a little girl waving his arms in a shooing motion as his legs spasmed.

"What's happened?" asked Deacy. I then grabbed the female lizard and said as I held her gently between my fingers.

"This cute little girl made herself home on Paul's water bottle." I stroked her long tail as Freddie said.

"Be thankful it was just a lizard Paul. It could've been a lot worse you know."

"Oh right, right you're right Freddie. I'll be fine, thank you." I rolled my eyes as did Roger and pretty much the rest of the guys minus Fred because we all knew of Paul's infatuation with Fred. I then held the lizard out towards Paul so that when he turned after milking his praises, the second he turned the lizard squeaking in his face making Paul shriek out as he told me, "Get that bloody thing away from me! I hate things that crawl!"

Wow then I pity the poor child that you'll have to bear one of these days Paul, though I hope you never reproduce your poisonous seeds.

"How can you even touch that, I thought girls were supposed to hate things like that? Just—put it away!"

"Okay, okay I'll put her down." I muttered as I stood up before an even better idea came to mind. I slowly leaned over Paul's head and placed the lizard on top of his head.

"Rog, (n/n)." Deacy spoke up.

"What?" Both Roger and I chorused alarmed almost fearing I had been caught.

"Brian, Freddie and I will take the lead. You two help Paul, okay?" As the three of them walked ahead, Roger came up beside me before Paul as the mustached arsehole muttered as he stood himself up with his backpack once again on his back.

"Sure you'll help me. Right over a cliff you'll help me." He then walked on ahead complaining and muttering in pain as Roger whispered to me.

"Not a bad idea."

"Yeah see any cliffs? I doubt he's got anyone that'll really miss him." We turned towards Paul who was still muttering in agony as I spoke up in mock sympathy. "Need some help Prenter?" He stopped in his place and turned towards me as he sneered through his forked tongue.

"Not from you Deacon. Don't think I can't see the She-devil behind that angel face of yours. One more trick out of you lass and I promise I will make your life hell from the day this album takes off into the charts. Got it?" Roger protectively wrapped his arm around my shoulder as I was unaffected by Paul's empty threat before he turned around.

"Got it, Norman Bates." I muttered. Roger snickered as Paul froze and turned around and hissed out.

"What did you call me?"

"Nothing, nothing she didn't say anything. Norman Bates." Roger muttered as the two of us walked past him. He muttered the name to me and I softly snickered as Roger stopped to say, "Oh by the way Prenter, I think I saw something on your head." He then turned back and followed behind me.

The two of us hid behind a tree while Roger peeked out and I could hear Paul scream before it was silenced for all but his whimpering.

"Oh my god." Roger was almost in complete hysterics. "You brilliant She-devil it went in his mouth."

"Oh that poor lizard." We fist-bumped each other as we saw the guys coming around as Brian was asking what happened now as Paul was now coughing and groaning in disgust.

"What.....happened now?" asked Freddie panting. Paul was gasping like a fish out of water but I did manage to hear.

"Ask—her....." I then heard Deacy sigh heavily and I could just feel him looking behind him towards the tree we were hiding. Roger and I peeked out innocently as Roger said.

"Oh come off it Deacy what did she do? She was by my side the entire time."

Finally we reached Brian's spot. It was a nice open meadow filled with beautiful wildflowers as far as the eye could see. All in various species and colors, there was also some points when the creatures of the forest would peek out like deer, does with their fawns, badgers, foxes and even a couple of hedgehogs.

I definitely got some good pictures of the wildlife as well as the flowers and of course the boys. By nightfall we were all gathered around and I'll admit Brian was right, this was the perfect spot for stargazing. I mean you look up and there's just billions and billions of them.

"Wow Brian, you—were right this is.....gorgeous." said Deacy.

"Told you." Brian spoke up.

"It's so unreal of just how many stars there really are in the sky." Said Freddie.

"I could live here forever if it meant getting to look at this every night." I said in awe.

"I agree with you on that love." Brian said.

"Hey Brian, do you ever wonder what lies beyond our world? I mean as an astrophysics major does it ever occur to you that maybe we're not the only beings in the universe?" I asked him.

"That's always the question love, and that's why astronauts and the people at NASA always work so hard. We've already managed to colonize the moon, who knows what we'll be able to accomplish in the future. And maybe we might discover something far beyond our solar system."

"Cool." I said in awe. "Hey Bri?"

"Hmm?"

"How—how do constellations get named? I mean do the astronomers just look at an image and just say 'oh hey we'll name this the Big Dipper and little dipper' or is it more scientifically?"

"Oh don't get him started (n/n), we'll be here all night." Roger spoke up. Brian scowled at Roger but said.

"Ignore him (y/n), he's just jealous you're not asking questions about dentistry."

"You know I changed my major to biology." Roger pointed out but Brian only chuckled and sat up allowing me to go up to him and actually rest my head on his lap as he spoke.

"Well to answer your question (y/n), it's sometimes varies. It sometimes does deal with the actual formation that the stars make, but that's because their names have dated back to the ancient Greek and Roman days when the first astronomers began mapping the stars. We've just added more onto what was previously said."

"So what did you do for your major?" I asked.

"My current thesis is about the radical velocities in zodiacal dust cloud. I completed it just last year but I'm putting in on hold for publication for a while due to my commitment here."

"Will you ever get it published?" I asked.

"Someday. It'd be ashamed and a waste of my time if I didn't. Hours spent doing research on my thesis and everything for it to not be shared with the field of astrophysics."

"You know science was always my favorite subject, I especially loved it when we got to do the astronomy section."

"Really?"

"It's true. Ever since primary school she's been obsessed with space, planets and the stars." Deacy spoke up.

"Now not to judge on why you picked up photography, but why didn't you try to go for a science degree?"

"Because every boy in my grade always said 'science isn't for girls'. I got teased about it relentlessly. Then one day after coming home with a bloody nose I decided to keep my mouth shut and find something else."

"Well they were obviously jealous that a girl was not only cute but too smart for their feeble little minds." Proclaimed Freddie. I blushed after remembering the baby pictures of me that the boys have seen when they all came to visit me and aunt Lillian on my birthday just a few months ago. Of course Deacy helped out with the embarrassment just to irk me.

"Freddie's right love. I won't tell you to change your dream because you've got a future in photography, but if it doesn't work out then you should try to give science another chance. Clever girl like you, I know you'll get far." Said Brian.

"You mean that?"

"Of course." He playfully poked the tip of my nose which made me laugh as we continued to observe the stars. With the gentle strokes he was giving my head, the sound of the crickets making a beautiful symphony and the beauty of the stars, I soon found myself falling asleep in Brian's lap.

*3rd Person POV*

Brian looked down to see (y/n) asleep in his lap. He smiled softly and softly whispered to the boys.

"Lads, take a look." Freddie awed softly and said.

"She's like a cat when she sleeps."

"I think it is time we head back to the house." Answered Deacy.

"About time." Paul muttered as he stood up. Roger and Deacy glared at Paul. Brian gently picked her up and to help make the trip easier so that she wouldn't wake up, he placed her on Deacy's back and he gripped his cousin's legs while Brian adjusted her arms around her cousin's neck.

Feeling the transition, (y/n) buried her face into her cousin's neck, his long hair gently tickling her face and the five of them headed back to the house.

Once they got there, Deacy and Brian helped (y/n) into her bed, Brian helped eased (y/n) into the bed while Deacy covered and tucked her in. The two of them kissed her goodnight and whispered their goodnights to her before heading off to their rooms.

The stress of making an album is straining, so its always nice to find those little spaces in between to find the time to have some fun and keep the peace. Whether it's a nice relaxing swim in the summer heat, having fun with the farm animals, or just stargazing in the cool summer heat.

Luckily with Queen they managed to find the time to do it, especially when their little mini-Deacy was around. Because they hated for her to be bored, so they always made time to pull anything that might interest her just to make her day better. And when she was happy, they were happy.

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

Text

Sadie Hawkins Dance

Yes, I know it is Thursday, so don’t worry, I will be posting chapter four of Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee. However, I couldn’t wait to post this because I first got the idea months ago, and it is a gift for a wonderful friend. @snowbellewells is like my fandom twin. We have so much in common, and we’re constantly saying to each other “me too!” when we chat. Marta, you are one of the kindest people I have ever met, and I wish I could send you a handsome pirate to feed you Hershey Kisses, but alas you’ll have to settle for this fic. But, my dear friend, you deserve all the best!

Marta, this fic was inspired by our conversations about term paper season as English teachers. Remember when I told you about rewarding myself with Hershey kisses every time I finished grading a paper? I stopped classroom teaching when I had my oldest, and since Luke turns eleven next week, that means I’ve been away for over a decade! It’s hard to believe, and I know that things have changed tremendously since I taught. However, my mom, my sister, and my cousin are all still teaching, and I know from them that kids now do almost all their work on laptops given to them by the school. When I taught I still used an overhead projector! Anyway, I tried to make this accurate, but I may have made mistakes, and I also know here in the States things vary so drastically state to state and district to district. My point is, I tried!

Also based on the song by Relient K. My husband was cleaning out his nightstand a few months ago and found an old CD Walkman. Inside was my old Relient K CD, and I have been on a kick listening to them again ever since.

Summary: English teacher Emma Swan and her fellow English teacher and best friend Killian Jones use Hershey Kisses and a bet involving their school’s upcoming Sadie Hawkins dance to motivate them as they grade term papers. But will this lead to kisses other than the chocolate variety?

Rating: G for tooth rotting sweetness

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @kday426 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @whimsicallyenchantedrose @welllpthisishappening @thislassishooked @branlovestowrite @delirious-latenight-laughs @resident-of-storybrooke @ekr032-blog-blog @nikkiemms @shireness-says @ultraluckycatnd @optomisticgirl @distant-rose @profdanglaisstuff @gingerchangeling @vvbooklady1256 @wellhellotragic @ohmakemeahercules @hollyethecurious @cocohook38 So many of us love Marta, go give her some birthday wishes!

She said, “You’re smooth, and good with talking. Will you go with me to the Sadie Hawkins?” The Sadie Hawkins dance, in my khaki pants, there’s nothing better. The girls ask the guys. It’s always a surprise. There’s nothing better. Baby, do you like my sweater?

Killian Jones slammed down his red pen, then slapped his hand on the term paper he had just finished grading. Emma Swan rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

“Hit me,” he said.

Emma grabbed a Hershey Kiss from the bowl on her coffee table and unwrapped it. “Open up,” she told him.

She tossed the candy through the air, and her best friend caught it perfectly on his tongue. He relished the chocolate with exaggerated pleasure, winking at her as he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. Emma rolled her eyes.

“You’re full of it, Jones, and a complete drama queen.”

He chuckled as he slid another paper from the three stacks lined up in front of him on the coffee table. Emma sat with her back against her sagging couch, her legs spread out in front of her beneath the well worn table. Her stockinged feet rested in Killian’s lap. He sat cross-legged on the other side of the table. His neat stacks of papers sat on one end, and Emma’s laptop on the other. Killian cocked his head at her, his pen tapping on the dented wood.

“A drama queen? You wound me, Swan.”

She squinted as she searched the screen for where she’d left off reading her next student’s paper. “Well you’re the one eating chocolate like it’s a sensual experience.”

“It is a sensual experience - meaning pertaining to the senses,” he argued. “I smell the cocoa, I taste the milk chocolate, and I feel the candy melting on my tongue.”

As if to prove his point, his tongue made yet another appearance. Emma glared at him.

“Okay, you make eating chocolate seem like an orgasmic experience.”

He laughed, scratching behind his ear, and Emma grinned at the nervous tell. She’d won this round of their usual flirtatious, slightly scandalous banter, and she inwardly exulted. She was well aware that most of the teachers and half the students at Storybrooke High were wondering when the Freshman English teacher and the Junior English teacher were finally going to get together. She hated to disappoint them, but it was never going to happen. Killian had started out as her co-worker, then had wormed his way into the friend zone, and the next logical step would be a relationship. Emma didn’t do relationships. One night stands, yes. Casual dates, yes. Neither of those were in the cards for her and Killian since they were permanent fixtures in each other’s lives, hence the friend zone.

“So, are you chaperoning the dance?” Emma asked casually.

“I would love to, but it’s a Sadie Hawkins dance, and no lass has asked me.”

Emma glanced up to see Killian giving her his patented adorable pout. Nobody did puppy dog eyes like Killian Jones. Emma rolled her eyes. Nobody did eye rolls like Emma Swan.

“We’re talking about chaperoning.”

“A man still likes to be wooed, Swan.”

Emma barked out a laugh at his ridiculous antics. She saved what was on her screen, entered the grade into her online gradebook, and slapped her hand on the coffee table.

“Hit me!” she said.

A Hershey Kiss went sailing through the air, hitting Emma on the cheek and bouncing onto the floor.

“Apologies, Swan.”

Emma scowled as she threw the candy back at his head. “You did that on purpose!”

He laughed as he unwrapped another chocolate, and this time, he aimed for her open mouth.

“That’s 14 down, 76 more to go,” Emma sighed. “How about you?”

“Ten.”

“You could go faster if you did it all online. That’s kind of the point of the kids emailing the links to their papers? You know, teaching in the 21st century?”

“I prefer the old fashioned way, love,” he argued splaying both hands over his perfect stacks before him, “I need to print them out, to feel them in my hands. I can also grade them anywhere, whether or not there’s wi-fi. And finally, I have a system.”

Emma shook her head as she chuckled. He’d given her a long, rather boring overview of his “system” before, one that he swore kept him from being too harsh on either the best writers or the weakest. He tried to be fair and to bring out the best in each student, so really, how could she fault him?

She could, however, tease him.

“Well, old man, I guess someone has to keep the red pen factories in business.”

“There are factories that only make red pens?”

“Someone makes them,” she mumbled as she forced herself to focus on a poorly written introduction.

“I’m fairly certain the adult coloring book trend will protect the red pen market.”

“I never got that fad.”

“It’s supposed to be relaxing, Swan.”

“What’s relaxing about coloring the same damn flower with a million petals for half an hour?”

Killian laughed, the sound of it free and easy. Their conversations were always this way. Mostly ridiculous, brutally honest, and always fun.

“You know,” Emma told him, leaning back against the couch as she worked the kinks out of her neck, “studies have proven that students get stressed when they see the color red on their work. Why don’t you use another color?”

“Like what?”

“Anything, apparently, remember the adult coloring books? Use . . . I don’t know, purple or something.”

“Then they’d just get stressed when they saw purple.”

Killian scratched a C- across the stop of the paper he was grading with a flourish, then slapped his hand down on it. “Hit me!”

Emma tossed him another Hershey Kiss, and then the two of them fell into silent concentration. Killian absentmindedly rubbed the bottom of her feet with one hand as he ran the end of his red pen along the lines in front of him. He started to chuckle after a few moments and lifted the paper for Emma to see.

“Do you know what this is?”

Emma smiled as she leaned closer to the paper. “A list?”

“Aye. A list of every short story F. Scott Fitzgerald ever wrote. With the year each was published and in what literary magazine it appeared.”

Both Emma’s eyebrows rose. “And what point font is that?”

“18 in verdana.”

Emma laughed. “Do they think we’re idiots?”

Killian shrugged as he scribbled a note in the margin. Emma spun her laptop around for him to see.

“A list of every agricultural export from Costa Rica. 22 point font, comic sans”

Killian quirked a brow. “Looks like Nicholas Zimmer takes the prize for best padding of a term paper.”

Half an hour later, the floor was littered with an obscene amount of Hershey Kiss wrappers and the tiny paper tails that Emma knew she would keep finding in her carpet for at least a month. Her vision was swimming as she tried to focus on her laptop screen and Killian was stretching the fingers of his right hand with a grimace on his face. Emma stretched both arms above her head and her spine cracked.

“25 down. You?”

Killian rubbed at his forehead wearily. “22.”

“I told you it would go faster on your computer.”

“Technically, I went faster. You completed eleven in the last half hour, while I completed twelve.”

Emma waved off his argument. “Short term gain, Jones.”

“Oh really?” he replied, leaning over the coffee table towards her. “What about a little wager, Swan?”

“I’m listening.”

“If I finish grading my term papers before you, I get to pick out what you wear for the Sadie Hawkins dance. If you finish first, you get to pick out my outfit.”

Emma narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms. “No way I’m letting you pick out my outfit.”

“Scared?” he teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Of course! You’re a man! I don’t want to get fired.”

He splayed a hand over his heart. “Swan! Do you not trust me?”

“No.”

He chuckled, setting her feet on the floor so he could come around the coffee table and settle in next to her. “I just have a need to see you as a stereotypical schoolmarm. You know, tight bun, glasses, a tweed skirt.”

Emma snorted. “Let me guess, tweed mini skirt with my shirt half unbuttoned.”

“Nope,” he argued, popping his p, “I mean, full blown schoolmarm. Maybe even a cardigan and a string of pearls.”

“Okay then,” she told him, giving his tight jeans and blue button up a once over. As usual, the top few buttons were undone on his shirt to let his chest hair breath. “And if I win this little bet, I want to see you go full blown nerd. Khakis, a sweater, bow tie, the whole nine yards.”

Killian gave her a smug grin. “You’re on.”

They shook on it, and then Emma’s head fell to his shoulder. “I guess this means we should get back to work.”

“I don’t know about you, but I need a break.” Killian picked up her Roku remote. “The Musketeers?”

Emma pouted. “You know too many of my weaknesses.”

He waved the remote in her face. “Just a few episodes, Swan, you know you want to.”

She scowled at him as she snatched the remote. “One episode, then it’s back to work.”

He flashed her a toothy smile as he rose and pulled her onto the couch with him. She curled up next to him, grabbing a blanket from the arm of the sofa. One episode turned into three, which turned into both of them drifting off. The next thing Emma new, sunlight was filtering through her curtains, and Killian’s chest was rising and falling beneath her cheek.

So much for getting back to work.

********************************************************************

Emma stifled a yawn as she walked up and down the rows in her first block class as her freshmen clicked away on their laptops to identify the dependent clauses in the list of sentences on their screens. She had a cup of coffee on her desk, but she was pretty sure it was cold by now. Her neck hurt too because Killian’s shoulder apparently didn’t make a very good pillow.

She paused just as she walked past Violet’s desk. The normally quiet and studious girl was laughing behind her hand, and was that the ding of an incoming message Emma had just heard from her computer? Emma spun back around, and Violet’s eyes grew large and round. The girl slammed her laptop closed, her face turning red and Emma almost felt sorry for her. She couldn’t have looked more guilty if she’d tried.

“I . . . finished early,” Violet stammered.

Emma held her hand out, “Let me see.”

Violet slumped as she turned the device towards her teacher. Emma opened the computer, and Violet’s grammar work was there on the screen. Yet down in the corner was the icon for the Discord app. Emma pulled it up and saw that Violet had been chatting with Grace three rows over. But one of her best students chatting in class in an app that wasn’t even supposed to be downloaded onto a school computer wasn’t what shocked Emma. What shocked her was the content of the conversation.

whiterabbit: saw somethin this morning

camelotgirl: what

whiterabbit: know how ms swan lives across the street

camelotgirl: yeah

whiterabbit: i saw mr jones leaving this am they hooked up!!!!

camelotgirl: no way mayb he was just givin her a ride

whiterabbit: no his car was at her place all night

camelotgirl: she does seem tired lol

whiterabbit: you know he wore her out 😜

camelotgirl: O.M.G

Emma knew her face was ten times redder than Violet’s. Which was saying a lot because Violet was currently the color of a tomato. Emma took a deep, slow breath, then released it and told herself not to panic.

“Violet, I would like to see you and Grace after class. In the meantime, you are to concentrate on the assignment and that is all.” Emma arched a brow at Grace, who also slumped in her seat. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Ms. Swan,” the girls murmured in reply.

Emma pushed Violet’s computer back to her, and forced herself to lengthen her spin and keep her voice calm. She finished the lesson, feeling relief surge through her when the bell rang. Grace and Violet, with heads down dejectedly, shuffled reluctantly to Emma’s desk.

“How did you girls get that app on your computers?” Emma asked. “You know social media of any kind isn’t allowed on school devices.”

She tapped her fingertips on the desk as she regarded the girls. Actually, the laptops were set up with all kinds of blocks and security settings, so whoever got around it was smart. Grace and Violet were good students, but they weren’t the computer hacker types.

“Do we have to tell you?” Violet asked, her lower lip trembling. “We don’t want to get him in trouble!”

Emma forced herself not to smirk. Violet had been dating Henry Mills for a few months now, and she had a strong suspicion he was the him. He was a good kid as well, but also entirely too smart. Not to mention his mother was the principal, which meant he had free rein of the school after hours. She’d also noticed him spending a large amount of time with Graham Humbert, the school IT guy. Emma had assumed it was because his mother had briefly (and notoriously) dated him, but it looked like Henry had other reasons for seeking the man out.

“No, you don’t have to tell me,” Emma said, leaving out the fact that she would be having a private conversation with his mother later. Violet visibly deflated. “But, you will be deleting that app immediately.”

She had both girls pull up Discord, and when their chat once again filled the screen, Grace turned to Emma.

“I only told Violet, and I promise I won’t tell anyone else. Your secret is safe with us.”

Emma let out an irritated breath before smoothing her features into what Killian called her “teacher face.”

“I appreciate that, Grace, but this illustrates why you can’t jump to conclusions. Gossip can do a lot of damage. Mr. Jones and I were grading papers together, that’s all.”

“Teachers pull all nighters?” Violet asked as her brows rose.

Emma chuckled. “Yes, sometimes. Term papers take a really long time to grade, so this is a very stressful time of year. That’s why I’m tired all the time.”

She gave Grace a pointed look then, and the poor girl turned a bright shade of red. “We’re sorry, Ms. Swan.”

“Apology accepted. Now, erase this app because if I see it again, I’ll have to write you up and send you to Mr. Humbert to get your hard drive wiped.”

She was fairly certain the threat of a hard drive wipe was more motivation for the girls than demerits.

**********************************************************************

Emma jumped when a to-go bag from Granny’s was plopped onto her desk. She rubbed her eyes wearily and blinked to clear the sleep from them. How had she fallen asleep so fast? It felt like the bell just rang to dismiss her kids to go to lunch. She looked up to see Killian standing there with a pleased grin on his face.

“Grilled cheese,” he told her.

“With fries?”

“Onion rings.”

“Good,” she said as she grabbed the bag, “I was just testing you.”

Emma bit her lower lip as she watched Killian pull up a chair and set his own Granny’s bag on her desk. School gossip had never bothered her before, but after the chat she’d read between Violet and Grace, she was tempted to ask him to eat lunch somewhere else. But how could she when he’d bought her favorite meal? Besides, it wasn’t the first time he had spoiled her this way. She’d completely taken advantage of his coveted third block planning period, yet he’d never complained.

“So how’s it going?” he asked, gesturing to her computer screen.

“It’s not,” she sighed. “I told you The Musketeers was a mistake. I’ve barely been able to keep my eyes open all day.”

He chuckled before taking a bite of Granny’s lasagna. She studied him as she dipped an onion ring in ketchup. If he was equally exhausted, he showed no evidence of it. His eyes were as bright blue as they ever were, his black dress slacks, collared shirt, and leather vest hugging his frame in a tasteful yet fashionable way. His hair was tousled, but artfully so, and she knew full well he’d spent time in front of the mirror to get it to look that way.

“What?” he asked after swallowing a bite of salad. “Do I have sauce on my shirt?”

She shook her head and smiled. “You just don’t look as tired as I do, that’s all, and it’s completely unfair.”

He shrugged and waggled his eyebrows. “What can I say? I’m devilishly handsome.”

Normally she would roll her eyes and throw him a witty retort, but today she was more aware of his flirting than usual. She glanced over his shoulder at the door that led to the hallway.

“Something is bothering you, Swan,” he told her seriously, “and it isn’t your fatigue.” He leaned closer. “You know you look lovely as always, right?”

Emma shifted nervously in her chair. “You probably shouldn’t say things like that at work.”

Killian’s eyes widened, but he quickly covered it with his usual charming smile. “Then I’ll just save it for tonight. I was thinking you could come to my place, and I could cook for you because God knows you need to be eating more than Pop Tarts and grilled cheese.”

Emma kept her eyes glued to her sandwich. “I don’t know. I was thinking I might just grade on my own tonight.”

Killian was silent for such a long time, that she finally lifted her gaze to his. There were times she got the uncanny feeling he could read her mind. Her heartbeat picked up, worried he would ask for an explanation, but instead he quirked his lips into a half smile.

“I won’t force feed you broccoli, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I just need to focus, that’s all,” Emma muttered before cramming another onion ring in her mouth.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “then how about you come over tomorrow night?”

Emma suppressed a groan. He was really going to make this difficult, wasn’t he? “I actually think we need to stop . . . you know, spending so much time together.”

Killian narrowed his eyes. “Where is this coming from?”

She let out a long, slow breath before telling him about the Discord chat she had stumbled upon. When she finished, his expression was unreadable. He just sat there, lounging back on that stupid plastic orange school chair as if she was an open book.

Oh, who was she kidding? He could always see right through her.

“Okay, Swan,” he finally said with a long, slow nod.

He rose from the desk and stepped right into her personal space, balancing both hands on the arms of the leather desk chair she had saved up money to buy herself. It was an extremely fancy chair that spun and rocked. Emma currently had it leaning back as far as it would go, and still Killian leaned forward, his nose almost brushing hers. His eyes, a darker blue than they had been when he first walked in, searched her face. His gaze flickered to her lips, and Emma wondered if he would kiss her. When he spoke instead, she was surprised at how disappointed she was.

“But the bet is still on,” he told her, voice low.

“The bet?” she winced when it came out high-pitched. Damn, she wanted to kiss him right now. What? No, he was her best friend! It wasn’t like that. It couldn’t be like that.

“The Sadie Hawkins dance?”

“That is a sexist and antiquated tradition.”

“Be that as it may,” he quipped with arched brows, “Storybrooke High is having one, and if I finish my term papers first, you owe me a schoolmarm outfit and a dance.”

“The bet was we had to wear whatever the other one chose. We never said anything about a dance.”

Killian leaned ever closer, turning his head to whisper in her ear. “I’m changing the terms. I want a dance.”

Emma swallowed, his close proximity sending a chill down her spine. “I am disinclined to acquiesce to your proposal,” she shot back, quoting one of his favorite movies.

Killian released the chair and stepped back, a crooked grin on his face. “We shall see about that. Good day, Swan.”

She sagged in her chair, her heart racing. It was as if she had thrown down a challenge, and Killian decided to rise to the occasion. No Emma, she admonished herself with a quick shake of her head, poor choice of words! She wet her lips, trying to calm herself down, but there was no denying it.

She had a thing for Killian Jones.

Which meant she had just lost her best friend. She turned to her desk with a groan and dropped her head to the hard surface.

***********************************************************************

Emma smiled when she saw the little bag of Hershey Kisses in her teacher box. She pulled them out and read the accompanying note:

75 down and only 15 more to go! I sense a schoolmarm outfit in someone’s future! Love, Killian

Her smile widened to a full blown grin as she dropped the gift into her messenger bag and pulled out her cell phone.

Thanks for the chocolate, Jones, but I see a sweater and a bow tie. 78 down. *mic drop*

Emma chuckled under her breath as she sent the text. She tossed her phone back into her bag and fished around for her keys as she headed down the humanities wing. She was surprised to see Violet and Grace waiting for her outside her door.

“What are you girls doing here so early?”

The teens glanced at each other nervously.

“We, um, wanted to talk to you,” Grace explained.

“Ok,” Emma replied as she unlocked the door. A tiny part of her worried that their private Discord chat had somehow become public, but she quickly pushed it away. After all, she had avoided Killian for a week now; their only interactions texts and the frequent chocolates left in her teacher box.

Emma entered the classroom, flipped on the lights then dropped her bag beneath her desk. She plopped into her chair and spun to face her students.

“I’m listening, ladies.”

“Well . . . “ Violet began hesitantly, “you see, we’ve been thinking, and . . . um . . . I mean, we noticed -”

“We think you should ask Mr. Jones to the Sadie Hawkins dance,” Grace blurted out.

Emma’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry . . . what?”

“It’s all our fault,” Grace hurried on, “that you won’t hang out with Mr. Jones anymore. I mean, everyone knows you’re together all the time - “

“- until now,” Violet put in.

“Exactly!” Grace nodded. “And Mr. Jones just hasn’t been the same. He’s really sad.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Girls, I seriously doubt Mr. Jones is pining over me or anything. We’re just friends. And I haven’t stopped hanging out with him, we’re both just busy.”

She pulled her laptop out of her messenger back and opened it up on her desk, expecting that to be it, but the girls lingered. She glanced up at them with raised brows.

“You’re wrong, Ms. Swan,” Violet said softly, “he really is sad.”

“How do you know this? You’re freshmen, he teaches juniors.”

“Henry said so.”

Emma frowned at Violet. “Your boyfriend told you his teacher is sad?”

“Well, yeah. Henry wants to be a writer, and he’s always hanging around after school because of his mom, so he’s gotten to know Mr. Jones really well.”

Emma bit her lip as she regarded the girl. She was well aware of the bond between Killian and Henry Mills. The boy had even let Killian read a few of his short stories.

“And everyone’s noticed the yearning looks and doey eyes,” Grace added with a smirk.

Emma scoffed. “I don’t yearn.”

“But he does,” both girls said at the same time.

********************************************************************

Killian Jones was well aware of his tendency to brood. He used to argue when his brother Liam would accuse him of it, but now? Now there was no sense denying it. He was brooding, melancholy, angst-ridden, and a thousand other synonyms for dramatic and pathetic. He was a grown man acting like a teenager in a Disney Channel movie.

He threw his red pen down on his desk in frustration, realizing that his mind was a thousand miles away from Emily Dickinson and her dash-filled poetry. He was so close to finishing his term papers - just five to go - and he’d never wanted to win a bet so badly in his life. He’d missed Emma terribly even though it had only been a week. If he won the bet, maybe he could at least get one dance.

How many synonyms were there for pathetic?

There was a knock at his classroom door, and he wearily called out for the person to come in. He was thinking of leaving anyway. It was past five, and he obviously wasn’t getting anything else done today.

Henry Mills appeared tentatively in the doorway, and Killian grinned.

“Good afternoon, my boy, or should I say good evening? It’s late for you to still be around.”

Henry came closer to his desk with a shrug, and it was only then that Killian realized he was carrying a large shirt box.

“I went home, actually, but Violet and Ms. Swan asked me to bring this to you. Mom said you were still here, so . . . “

The boy trailed off as he set the box on Killian’s desk. Killian narrowed his eyes as he stood and regarded the box.

“Ms. Swan in league with your girlfriend? What’s all this about?”

“Beats me,” Henry said, “I’m just the messenger.”

Killian lifted the lid on the box, and inside was a pair of khaki pants and a gray cardigan sweater with huge brown buttons. Resting on top was a red bowtie and a note. Killian picked it up and opened it to find Emma’s messy handwriting.

90 term papers graded, Jones. I win. So will you go with me to the Sadie Hawkins?

**************************************************************

“It’s totally unfair, you know,” Emma told Killian as she entered the gym on his arm.

“What’s unfair?”

“That you still look hot dressed like a nerd.”

“I told you,” Killian quipped with a waggle of his eyebrows, “I’m devilishly handsome.”

Emma laughed and smacked him in the chest.

“I have to say, Swan,” he said giving her an appreciative gaze, “you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

She was dressed in a much softer, feminine way than was normal for her. Her dress was pink with an A-line skirt that hit her knees. She had pulled her hair up into a ponytail that she had curled with a curling iron. To be honest, she had never had a date to a school dance before. So maybe this former foster girl was indulging in a childhood fantasy; at least she knew Killian could understand that.

“Why thank you,” she told him, a blush staining her cheeks. “You’re not disappointed about missing out on your schoolmarm fantasy?”

Killian grinned brightly as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Oh, I have multiple fantasies, Swan.”

She was completely incapable of a come back when he looked at her that way. She bit her lower lip, her gaze drifting to his mouth.

“Oh for the love of God, just kiss already!”

The two of them jumped apart, faces flaming to see their boss Regina Mills standing there, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. She had traded in her everyday sensible pantsuit for a sensible dress skirt instead. The two of them held their breath, worried they were about to get a lecture on school romances, but Regina just rolled her eyes at them.

“Just keep it PG, ok? Now get to the punch bowl already!”

Grace and Violet may have kept the topic of their Discord chat a secret, but they didn’t do the same about Emma asking Killian to the dance. All night, kids were coming up to tell them how cute they were together. Emma felt her face had turned as red as the punch.

Halfway through the evening, the DJ called them out by name to come out on the dance floor. The hoots and cheers of the students as Killian led her out to the middle of the gym floor was deafening. He rested one hand at her waist and clasped his other one with hers as Christina Perri’s “The Words” began to play. Emma breathed a sigh of relief when students drifted onto the floor as well.

“You don’t like being the center of attention, do you?” Killian teased.

“Not exactly,” Emma laughed.

“Well, unfortunately, you need to get used to it.”

Emma tilted her head. “Why?”

“Because there’s no one here as beautiful as you.”

As cheesy as the line was, for the second time that night, he had left her speechless. Emma’s only response was to release Killian’s hand so she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer. He grinned in response, wrapping his arms about her waist. The song was winding down, and several of the students noticed how they had drawn closer together. The hoots and cheers from earlier filled the gym. Killian arched a brow at her, and Emma’s eyes widened. What was he up to? She let out a small yelp when he suddenly dipped her, winking down at her. The cheers of the students grew even louder, and now many of them were chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Emma almost panicked when Killian pulled her closer when he lifted her back up. Yet the kiss he gave her was only a brief brush of lips against her cheek, and she sighed in relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to kiss him - God, did she want to! - she just didn’t want their first kiss to have an audience, especially an audience they had to see every single day.

So when the song ended, Emma tugged Killian through the crowd, away from the punch bowl. The dance committee had borrowed sets from the drama club’s last production of Oklahoma! for the night’s western theme. She yanked Killian behind a giant mural of a Conestoga wagon and beneath the bleachers.

“Making out under the bleachers, Ms. Swan?’ Killian admonished with an exaggerated frown. “I’ll have you know I’m a gentlem-”

Emma cut him off, yanking him forward by the front of his sweater, and crashed her lips into his. He was clearly surprised at first, but he caught up quickly. Kissing him was just as good as she had always imagined, his lips soft yet firm, and one of his hands tangled in her ponytail. Emma tilted her head, deepening the kiss, and she swore his tongue tasted like Hershey’s chocolate.

They could have stayed there behind those bleachers, kissing until their lips were swollen, but they both knew they would be missed. And getting caught making out would definitely not be PG. So she and Killian made their way back to the punch bowl, their fingers threaded together, sharing ridiculously sappy smiles.

The rest of the night was like one of those teen rom-coms Emma used to hate. Killian draped his sweater over her shoulders as they walked from the gym to his car, and her foot might have popped like Mia Thermopolis when he kissed her goodnight at her door. Despite kissing under the bleachers, he hadn’t been kidding. He was a perfect gentleman. And Emma literally swooned against the door after telling him goodbye. She waited for the fear to grip her. Fear that she’d let him in too fast. Fear that he wouldn’t stick around. Fear that their friendship would be ruined. But the fear didn’t come.

**************************************************

“Hit me.”

Killian Jones grinned, unwrapped a Hershey Kiss and tossed it into Emma’s open mouth. She ate it with an exaggerated moan, then licked her lips suggestively. He leaned across the coffee table and captured her lips in a deep kiss, tasting the chocolate on her tongue.

By the end of the night, there was an obscene amount of foil wrappers littering the living room floor, and Killian knew they would be finding those tiny paper tails in the carpet for the next month.

But that was okay. He and his wife did this every year. Kisses were the best way, after all, to get through term paper season.

#cs ff #cs modern au #best friends #friends to lovers #teacher!emma #teacher!killian #fluff #fandom birthday playlist #for snowbellewells #on her birthday

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revol-lover · 4 years

Text

facebook memories decided to remind me that today is the 10 year anniversary of my only reckless teen adventure. a story that i look back on fondly in some ways but also like.. damn i was STUPID and i hope i raise my daughter well enough not to make the mistakes i made out of naivety.

August 2010 - super smitten over the guy who would become my first love. he invited me to go to a bonfire at this local state park/beach. now, i was naive as fuck. i was never allowed to do anything with my friends growing up. once in a blue moon my mom would let me hang out with a friend after school, if it was a girl and for a short time. but that was it. otherwise if my friends wanted to see me they’d have to come hang out on my porch. so was my mom going to let me hang out with a guy alone? no lol.

but i really liked him and i didn’t want to miss out on getting to hang out with him, we’d known each other all of high school but had started talking a lot that summer. so anyway my aunt, who was fresh out of her divorce and going through this like mid life crisis where she was like going wild. that’s the only way i could describe it. she was not making the smartest decisions and going through a very yolo phase. so my teenage mind is thinking, who could be a better person to help me lol. anyway i was also close enough to her that i felt i could talk to her about this guy i liked and i told her that he invited me to go to this bonfire but i couldnt ask my parents because they’d def say no.

so my aunt, bless her, is like. i’ll drop you off just be safe! and we come up with this lie (i still can’t believe my aunt/mom’s sister concocted this for me. we had a little falling out years after this and it’s never been the same but man. she was not being a very good adult at the time. i don’t think i could something like this for my nieces behind my brother or my sister in laws back. no way.) that my aunt was going to drop me off at my cousin’s house who happened to live down near that park. my mom wasn’t gonna question it. i used to do things with my aunt all the time.

so she drops me off at the park/beach, tells me to be safe and drives away. and here i am! 🚨 alone with the guy i liked trying to play it cool and what not. so i’m like alright where’s the bonfire/his friend we were also meeting there and he tells me that he’s already at the “spot” and we were gonna go meet him there. so we’re walking there, talking, its going good. i’m excited. until we get off the paved path and start .. hiking? up this hill. alright. my intuition finally kicks in and is like, well this seems wrong lol. but me, cute boy, chance to hang out. i ignored it. so we get up the hill and there’s his friend, and a small fire.

at this point i think it finally clicked that you’re definitely not allowed to just start a bonfire anywhere you want. but i had never been to a bonfire before so i don’t know. it never dawned on me that maybe we werent supposed to be doing this. anyway guy i liked, introduces me to his friend, who i find out is literally like a 14 year old (i was 17 at the time, guy i liked 18) and just you know, starting a fire on top of a hill in a woodsy part of this state park. well. all was fine until we heard police sirens and guy’s friend goes “oh shit we gotta go”. 🚨

this is when i know for sure we were not supposed to be doing this lol. so the friend scrambles to put out the fire and me and guy i like run like hell, not down the part of the hill we came up, but into the the other direction into the woods/part of this park that you wouldn’t go into intentionally unless you were going there to do drugs or something sketchy.

so we run and i guess the plan was if we kept going in the direction we were going, we’d end up at the chain link fence that would lead us to the road you drive onto to get to this place. however when we got to that fence, it turns out there was some of that barbed wire stuff on the top of it. so that was not an option after all.

at this point i have scratches all over my arms from running through this woodsy, off trail place. i’m already wondering how the fuck im going to explain this to my parents if i don’t get in trouble with the cops.

so we have to turn around and head back the direction we came, but rather then climbing up that hill again, guy i liked brings me a different direction (he seemed familiar with this place). and we end up in this like.. its is so hard to describe if you don’t know the place. this park/beach is an old military base kind of place so there are these concrete buildings that have little, not tunnels but the only way i can describe it is like man-made caves? (which are rumored to be haunted lmao) this is a similar place:

and we end up at one of these and there were people clearly doing drugs in there so we were like fuck. we can’t go this way. so we turned a corner and waited it out for a little bit in the woods while guy i like is having minor panic attack about what he’s going to do if he gets in trouble because his mom was already in trouble with cps at the time (she was the fucking worst. story for another time) but he was already a legal adult so he knew if we got caught he’d be in real trouble.

anyway. we wait it out and eventually have to make our way back out. we wind up going around that hill we initially climbed up, rather then back up and down it. so we get out of the woods and back onto the paved walking trail. relieved as fuck! laughing even at how crazy the whole thing was.

and then a cop walks by us and stop us.

and asks if we saw anyone setting a fire, pointing up at that hill.

i am an awful liar but put me in front of a cop an apparently, my ass can lie.

“A fire? no we didn’t see anyone. We didn’t even see any smoke.”

and the cop just nodded and kept walking down the path lmao.

i felt like we literally got off by the skin of our teeth.

when my aunt picked me up, i didn’t tell her what happened at risk of her never helping me out again. she or my mom never noticed the scratches on my arm. and i just remember going home that night thinking holy fuckin SHIT i am never going to do something that stupid ever again.

and it’s been 10 years now i guess according to the facebook status i posted that day, which is so embarassing.

🤦‍♀️

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notalwaysthevillian · 5 years

Text

Brewing Love

Hello friends, and welcome to another AU.

Warnings: medicine mention, food mention, there’s a cat, let me know if there’s anything else!

Pairings: Remile; background Logicality & eventual Prinxiety

Word Count: ~1.3k

Based on this post by @teacupfulofstarshine! (Thank you so much for letting me write it, Star!)

Thank you to @onenightjoanly for looking this chapter over for me!

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

Setting the last stool on the counter, Remy took a step back. “You know, cuz, I was doubting this plan. But you’ve really pulled it off.”

Their new coffee shop looked great. The tan walls and the wooden floors worked well together. The Cozy Corner was full of pillows and bean bag chairs for anyone who’d need it. And, at Remy’s insistence, they had plenty of outlets.

It was perfect.

“We pulled it off.” Logan’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’d rather not admit it, but I needed the two of you to accomplish this.”

“Aww, Lo, that’s so sweet!” Patton pressed a kiss to Logan’s cheek, making his blush deepen.

Holding back a smirk at the nickname, Remy looked around. “Everything’s put up and clean. What time did you want me back here, Boss Man?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that. And be here at 6.”

“So, 6:30? Gotcha.” With a wink at Patton, who giggled, Remy turned and headed out the door.

“No later than 6, Rem!”

Two minutes later, Remy was unlocking the door to his apartment. The second he walked in, Chai began winding around his legs, mewing.

“One second baby.”

Tossing his coat on the bench, he pulled her food out of the fridge, peeling away the lid. She plopped down in front of her food bowl, her tail swishing on the floor.

Remy scraped it into the food bowl with a spatula before gently rubbing her head. “There you go sweetie.”

Thankful that Logan had ordered them pizza earlier, Remy breezed through his nightly routine. When the clock hit 11, he popped his Ambien and threw the blankets over himself. Chai nudged the door open minutes later, jumping up and curling on her pillow.

“Goodnight, baby.”

The next morning, Remy groaned as his alarm went off, loud enough to scare Chai out of the room. He fumbled with his phone, sighing with relief as he managed to turn it off.

He stumbled into the shower, shivering as the icy water snapped him awake.

Once dressed, he fed Chai and grabbed a protein bar. Throwing on his bomber, he called out his goodbyes to her before heading out the door.

He walked into the shop at 6 on the dot, finding Logan and Patton already there.

“Wow, you’re on time for once?” Logan teased.

Remy raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got some flour on your cheek.”

Flushing a deep pink, Logan wiped it off. “I started the brews. Can you make sure the espresso machine has beans?”

Working in tandem, Logan and Remy opened the store. Every once in a while Patton would come out of the kitchen and put a pastry in the display case, as well as giving them compliments.

By the time it hit 7, they already had a few people waiting outside the door.

“Let ‘em in, Rem.”

Smiling brightly, Remy walked over and unlocked the door, throwing it open. “Welcome to Fuckoffee!”

“REMY!”

“FINE. You’re entering Get Roasted. If you want to be insulted, grab a mug on the left. If not, grab one on the right. See you at the counter, bitches.”

He held back a laugh as one of the older women gasped. “Is that how you treat your customers?”

“Hey, at least we’re giving you a choice. Would you rather we just insulted you right out the gate?”

The woman crossed her arms. “I think you should be more polite.”

“I think you shouldn’t tell me how to run my business.” Logan said as he walked up. He nudged Remy, who headed back behind the counter. “If you don’t like it, the door is right there, Helen.”

“It’s Susan.” She corrected.

A laugh left Logan’s mouth. “It’s all the same to me.”

With a huff, Susan turned and headed out the door. Logan turned to the small group mingling by the mugs. “Any of you have an issue?”

“No way! That was awesome!” One of them said, flashing him a smile. “I’m telling all of my friends about this place.”

“I don’t care what you do.” Logan deadpanned before heading into the kitchen, hiding a smile as he heard the group laugh.

Remy leaned on the counter, watching as one of the girls grabbed a black ‘insults’ mug and brought it up. “Whaddaya want?”

“A venti vanilla bean latte.”

“One basic white girl, coming up!” He called out.

He quickly made the drink before ringing her up. “4 dollars or no drink.”

“Is that with tax?” She asked, inserting her card into the machine.

A snort came out of Remy’s mouth. “You know that the neither of us don’t understand how tax works.”

Grabbing her drink, she threw $5 in the tip jar. “Thanks!”

The rest of the morning flew by, with a decent amount of people getting offended and leaving. Around one, they started to slow down, leaving Remy some time to clean the machines.

“Pardon me?”

Remy whirled around, an insult on his tongue. It died immediately when he saw the ‘polite white’ mug in the man’s hand.

A hand that was attached to an extremely attractive body. Who knew a cardigan could look so good?

“Hello there.” Remy said, sliding over to the counter. “What can I get you, handsome?”

Big brown eyes blinked back at him through a pair of glasses. “Why thank you! I’ll have a hot cocoa please. With soy milk if you could.”

“No problem! Coming right up.”

Remy made the drink at lightning speed, hoping to chat a little more with the clueless cutie. He handed it over with a flirty smile. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

“Oh, one of my patients came in this morning and told me all about this place!” He waved his hand in the air as he talked. “He told me that it was a breath of fresh air compared to most other coffee shops. It was the most I’ve ever gotten him to talk in a session, so I just had to come check this place out. The concept is extremely interesting. How did you come up with the idea?”

“It was mostly my cousin that thought of it. I’d told him that I was sick of seeing people bully their way into getting a free drink at my favorite coffee shops.” Remy stopped his story for a second to ring up another customer. He handed them their pastry before launching right back into it. “Logan had been wanting to run a business for a while, so he mentioned having a place where you could fire back at the customers. And if you’re the boss, you can’t get in trouble for it. So this place was born.”

The man placed his now empty mug down, the charms on his bracelet jingling. Remy’s eyes glanced over the charms, seeing ‘he/him’ written on them.

“I like your bracelet.”

“Oh, thanks.” The blush that crept up his face just made him look even cuter. “It helps my patients. They know whether it’s a he day or a she day or sometimes a they day.”

Seeing the tentative look in his eyes, Remy reached out, running his hands over the charms. “Don’t worry. We’re extremely LGBTQ friendly. Logan is gay, his boyfriend is pan, and I’m bi. If anyone cracks an offensive joke here, Logan’s policy is that they have one chance to fix it. It hasn’t happened yet, but he says that he’ll educate them and if they’re still rude, then they’re banned.”

“I’ll be telling all of my patients about this place then.” The man rose from his seat, grabbing his mug to put in the dish tray. “Thank you again!”

Remy watched him carefully set his mug in the tray before heading out the door.

It was only when he was serving the next customer that he realized he’d forgotten to get the man’s name.

Next Chapter

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Brewing Love Tag List: @aroundofapplesauce @bubblycricket @coconut-cluster @creativity-killed-thekitten @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @laragazzadellluna @laterpaladudeswheee @levy-the-b00kw0rm @mc-illustration @mourning--star @nottodaylogic @romanismyprince @shootingace

#medicine mention #food mention #cat mention #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #patton sanders #ts sleep #remy sanders #emile picani #my writing #romantic remile #romantic logicality

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wojtekbc · 5 years

Text

D&D Session Summaries for 8&9

So there were some things that needed to be sorted out, which is why these two have been bundled together. Details of what actually happened will be listed later in the post.

When last we left our heroes... Returning to the city of Octin after defending Ravenhome from a detachment of Warbreed, the heroes arrived in time to celebrate their victory with a festival. Fun was had, drinks were imbibed, Shura won the axe of the antediluvian war spirit Gonzo in an arm wrestling contest... you know how festivals go! All went well until our heroes encountered a procession heading through the heart of the city; the daughter of the Duke Fabron and an eastern noblewoman are to be wed in a couple days! Oh? It’s Naoise’s @bluethegirl wife??? Well, we were planning on crashing a wedding in the east, and it seems to have appeared in front of us... All the more reason to disrupt political marriages if it’s linked to the party! Saturday morning starts like all others do for our brave heroes, with a hearty breakfast at a table in the closest thing we have to a home right now, the Affable Undulate, and a long discussion of what we are getting up to today. We have a wedding to crash, a meeting with our benefactor to attend, drugs to sell(???), typical day for the lads, really. Now, we know that we need to figure out where Allavara is actually being kept, and we’re waiting for night to rescue her, so discussion quickly turns to what to do about Guinevere Greysteel, our powerful councilwoman contractor. We have done jobs for her, sure, but we did kill Galen/The Wizard formerly known as Ketracel (at this point Cerna @pantographicclone, who had been off on Cerna Business, manifests behind the party and tells us that we could just kill them all) so maybe we don’t lead with that? Maybe we sell her the drugs? Ellie @xynnos wants to bury it in the forest to keep it away from everyone, but we all pinky promise not to drink the orc juice and let him have some when he wants to Get Feral. So we finish up with food and show up at the Greysteel manse in the wealthy district of Octin so to meet with Guinevere early in the morning. We’re all introduced and then she begins to ask us about our contracts, namely what happened in Ravenhome. Shura tells her that yes, another force of Warbreed were demanding tribute from the town in livery of green and purple, that of the Duke Fabron, and that we forced them to move on by beating their leadership in combat. Jawbones @darkseldarine mentions that they were summoning demons, to which Greysteel says “I might need to make up with my cousin if magic is involved.” Shura, being a dumbass without an off switch, ounce of charisma and no impulse control in situations Like This, asks “Who is your cousin?” every one of the party and players knowing damn well it’s the fucking corpse we buried in a shallow grave in Ravenhome after Rowan @krunk-mcdunk brained the poor fucker less than a week ago. Ellie quickly realises there’s no easy way to shut Shura up without cutting him off, so we’re stuck with this lie. You know the drill, “What’s your relationship with this dude?” “Oooooh he’s missing??? That sucks, man” “No we haven’t seen him!” Strangely enough, it’s not Shura who almost fucks us up at this part, but our lovable ranger Jawbones(Jawbones!) saying “Hey! Didn’t Rowan...see a wizard? And clobbered him??” Yet THAT doesn’t do us in either! What does is us talking about the orc juice and Shura lying through his fucking teeth and saying no. Greysteel:“Hand it over.” Shura: “And why should we.” Greysteel: “Well, name your price.” Shura: “We have a few vials left, alright, and we will hand it over on one condition. Our friend here, miss Naoise, is gonna need protection very soon, and she won’t be the only one. She needs to lay low, and we know the Greysteels can help us with that. If you want this potion, you will help us.” Greysteel: “Two vials for your protection, and you take another job, and you set up a meeting between me and the Kingless.” Shura: “Yeah that’s reasonable, but what’s the job? I’m not signing everyone up for it.” Greysteel: “I have intel on cults within the city.” Shura: “Sounds like my line of work.” Greysteel: “You’ll meet with my informant at 2, at this address. It’s possible this potion came from my cousin.” Greysteel tells us that the Baron and his entourage are staying at the Duke’s old castle, just outside the city. We get our pay for the contracts and move on. Some of the party go and say hey to the musketeers in their coffeehouse to tell them they have a meeting with the councilwoman, nothing really comes of that. Ellie and Cerna go to the library to see if Ellie can learn about the castle and any secret entries. So the rest of the day is basically relying on a Rowan/Jawbones stealth mission to figure out the defenses and state of the castle for the night operation we’re planning on pulling. Rowan and Jawbones manage to spot the tower Allavara is staying in while completely blanking on what the guards are up to. Jawbones also spots a room in strangely pristine condition not too far from the tower. The group meet up and discuss this and Ellie sends a message by way of bird to tell Allavara to prepare for a rescue mission, and OH YEAH YOUR WIFE ISN’T ACTUALLY DEAD :DDDD The team show up and avoid guards under cover of night to the base of the tower with Allavara. We discuss how we’re gonna get up there and down safely with Naoise’s wife and child, and eventually Cerna tells us he can spider climb up the tower with a rope! So we do that! And climb up! And get them out! Now this is where we have some things to talk about; we have a timeline that was kind of retconned because the decision the party reached was too impulsive for some of us. I’ll recount the story as we have decided it happened, not as it actually did, because this is revisionist history and you literally can’t fucking stop me. Allavara tells us she has heard strange noises from Fabron’s room down the hall, and has seen all manner of grim things surrounding the Duke. She notices the Wren necklace on Shura and tells us she fears he is a demon worshipper, or perhaps that he may even be communing with something grim right now. Some of the party decide to go with Allavara back to Octin, for her safety; Shura, Rowan, Jawbones and Cerna prepare to kill a cultist. We arrive, and he’s tranced out with occult knowledge and symbols lining the room in peculiar patterns. Out of his armour, with no guards left to protect him, Shura takes the Axe of Gonzo and decapitates Baron Fabron in one fell swoop. We turn the room, take the body and all valuables, and disappear into the night. Fuck that guy. End session. (I will mention for posterity that the way the Axe of Gonzo worked was that Shura could burn mental stats for a bigger crit range and extra weapon die on one crit. Auto crit on a sleeping target, and I rolled a crit anyway, coming to 8d12+2d6+9 because of Zealotry and Half Orc feats etc. This was supposed to be something of a combat encounter but for the second time in this game a named villain was killed in a single hit in their sleep.) We pick back up outside Octin where the group is prepared to split up just in case we have been followed; Naoise and Allavara go back to the Affable Undulate with baby Atticus, Rowan and Shura are headed for the Bloody Cup after a visit to church, Ellie and Cerna head to another bar and Jawbones goes off on her own for her own business. Naoise spends a night with her wife and kid at the bar, just catching up. Shura and Rowan show up at church and he goes in to check with Belruel, making sure that what they had just done was the right call. He feels a hand on his shoulder and that definitely lightens his mood because yeah, in that situation he knows he would have done it even if it wasn’t the right call. Belruel does not tell him if Fabron is linked to the cult Shura has dealt with in the past, so that’s rough, but no matter! Fabron had a dark longsword in his room, and this lad loves trophies, so in proper fashion, why not try and see what’s up with it in a church? In his little prayer circle, he tries to attune to the sword but it hurts him to do so, and then something strange happens. The metal creaks and takes on a lighter hue after burning red hot and literally screaming. Shura, and Ya Boi, being dumbasses, do not equate this to any real change, so he does not try and attune again in case it literally kills him. Rowan says her prayers to Winthrop the merry and laughs as Shura’s cursing at a sword across the room. The two of them go to the bar they chose, and a drunken exhausted Shura collapses in bed before he can attune to the sword. Jawbones (Jawbones!) makes herself less conspicuous and heads to a bar. She just listens in on the crowd, eats some stew, but there’s nothing too interesting; news hasn’t spread yet. One of her old friends lived here, so she talks to this lad Welrick, just checking in on an old friend. She asks for Arc, but there’s been no sign of him. In Arc’s room, the window is open and the room is empty, there is nothing interesting beyond a black rose coin. She pockets the coin but falls asleep as she’s waiting for someone to return. It’s from her pocket by the time she wakes up. Now Ellie and Cerna immediately head to a bar; Ellie tries to meditate and eventually he can sleep for a bit but the scars on his chest begin to open. Panicked, Ellie runs for the gates and out into the woods. Mr. Shiny has left him, his powers are fading and he is winded. Ellie lies down in a riverbed, as if embracing death, certain that Fyena, the pagan spring goddess who is all but confirmed to be living inside him has left, or is perhaps wounded? Cerna seems to have a nice night by himself, commenting on his weird fucking roommate. We all meet back up in the morning at the Affable Undulate; Jawbones and Ellie show up first and Ellie’s a bit fucking rocked by the events of last night. The rest show up not too long after, and Shura decides to attune to the sword; there is no psychic damage, so that’s neat! Fabron’s blade, once known as Barbspawn, has been reforged in the light of the church as a gift from Belruel to this boy; the sword is now Brightspawn. Cerna takes The Axe of Gonzo, and the team agrees to go and tell Greysteel she needs to help Naoise/Marcella and her family right now! We show up and Greysteel is understandably shocked to see Allavara here and requesting hiding, but she agrees to uphold the deal; we’ll be taking Marcella out for drinks later this evening, but she can stay here now. We also have something to tell Greysteel, and we have no idea how to break the news to her; Shura fumbles for words, until Rowan’s flair for the dramatics takes over, she billows her cloak, takes a bow and the decapitated body of Fabron rolls out onto her floor. She is none too pleased with this, although she’s kind of glad we didn’t tell anyone but her. The news can’t leave the room, though, and we’re not getting a pat on the back for it, which sucks. Oh well! But we leave the mansion and the wedding procession is... still happening?? We see carriages, and we see Fabron alongside his daughter? We see Allavara in a wedding dress? We know they’re illusions or body doubles, but still, why are they keeping up appearances? Wild. The contact is met, and enter @bluethegirl‘s new character! We show up at an apartment; the door is half open and the walls are lined with notes and scraps of paper. Lazing on a couch is a tiefling flipping through a book, with the cultist symbol of Arioch on a necklace. The investigator stands up, introduces himself as Ashe, and quickly notices Shura’s Wren necklace, tearing his own cultist one off with a strong “It’s not what it looks like!” End session.

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 5 years

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Pink and Black Roses: A Watford Cove Wedding

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Light Angst

Word Count: 7764

Summary: Eleven years after they first met in Watford Cove, Simon and Baz are getting married. Based on "frightened kiss" request.

Read on AO3

AN: I’m still working on the knight and warlock fic, don’t worry, but this is already done and edited so I want to get it up cause I'm so excited to post it. It's the last request of the 2018 batch, and I thought we needed to go out with a bang. So here's a future fic sequel to Watford Cove! Enjoy :D

———————————————

Simon

“Is my hair alright?” I ask. Penny sighs as she’s adjusting my tie.

“Your hair looks fine, Simon,” she says.

“Is it really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But maybe-”

“Simon!” She steps around me, standing between the mirror and I. Her hands grip my shoulders hard. Not tight enough to hurt but enough to keep me steady. “Stop fussing, you’re fine. Not just your hair, you. Stop panicking. Nothing is going to go wrong. And even if something does, stay focused on the goal.”

I snort, a wholly undignified sound for a grown twenty eight year old man I’m told. Like I care. “You sound like Baz’s uni football coach.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m probably smarter.”

“You definitely are, Pen, always.”

She smiles smugly, nose up in the air. “Of course I am.” I chuckle and hold her forearms. A lot of my nerves are already melting away. I don’t know what I’d do without Penelope. “Now, your tie is far more straight than you are.” I snort again. “We should probably get out there with everyone else.”

“Agreed.”

“You’ve got everything, right? Vows, ring, big smile?”

I reach into my pink suit jacket, feeling a piece of paper and and cool metal on my finger tips. I grin wide, all the way to my ears. “Yeah, all good.”

Penelope nods once, then reaches down to firmly hold my hand. “Awesome. Then let’s go.”

We walk together, arms swinging slightly, out the door of the powder room towards the main entry. There’s two doors between us and the main room of the Watford Cove Event Hall. Baz is walking down the aisle first with his party so he’s on the other side. (I wish I could push the doors open and see him.) My party is here, milling about and getting ready. Agatha keeps shifting around her black flower crown with a small frown.

“It doesn’t feel right,” she grumbles.

I stroll up to her and put her crown centre. She turns to me, and immediately grins.

“There,” I say, “perfect.”

“Hey Simon, how are you doing?”

“Honestly? I’m freaking out. But I’m also happy.”

“You better be! I don’t want to be wearing this silly crown thing for nothing.”

I frown and put my hands on my hips. “It’s not silly, it’s cute.”

Her mouth quirks up, one hand on her pink skirt. “Yeah, I suppose it is, even if it’s a pain to wear.” She looks around at the room with a hint of awe. “This whole ceremony is beautiful, really. I’m happy to be a part of it.”

I grin in full force again. Agatha is really nice. We met in uni, sitting together in an intro art class. She noticed how terrified I was to share my work and helped me calm down. We started chatting, and immediately became friends. Penny quickly came to like her too, but Baz took a little longer. He was even a bit jealous because he thought she had a crush on me. Agatha quickly dispelled that notion by introducing us to her girlfriend. Baz felt like an idiot, and I showed immense restraint by only teasing him for a minute. Now we’re all close friends. Close enough that Agatha agreed to fly all the way from California to be a groom’s maid in my wedding.

“Thanks,” I say. “Glad you’re here too.” I look out at all three of them, dressed in pink and black, different parts of my heart. “Glad you’re all here.”

“I’m happy to be here!” Micah chimes in. “This is all so awesome. And I feel like a pinterest photo in this suit.” He spins around, pink jacket flapping about while his black rose boutonniere flys off. Penny sighs as she picks it up.

“Careful, love,” she says. “Black roses are expensive, you only get one of these.”

Micah leans forward and kisses the top of her head, just under her own black flower crown. There’s nothing but affection in his eyes. “Understood, dear.”

Damn, years later and they’re still so sweet. Penelope met Micah long before she met me, when he was an exchange student at Watford High in Year 10. Apparently their connection was instant. Pen was already talking about marriage in high school, and the two went through with it right after uni graduation. They’re very happy. I hope my marriage is as good as Penny and Micah’s. Though looking at mine and Baz’s relationship for the past eleven years, I’d say that’s pretty well guaranteed. We’ve been through a lot, yet we’re still together. Being married will be fucking incredible.

“Are we all ready?” Gran walks in, dressed like a fancy lady. She looks great in her pale pink skirt suit with her hair all done up like a duchess or something. She’s got a black rose boutonniere too. It’s apparently a wedding thing to have flowers everywhere. Not that I mind, I love flowers. Hence why I’m wearing some on my head.

“As long as I don’t sick up, then yeah,” I chuckle.

Gran sighs, shaking her head. “You’re not going to sick up, Simon. You always say you will and you don’t.”

“Agreed!” Penny oh so helpfully adds in. I glare over my shoulder, and she sticks her tongue out. We may be fully fledged adults, but in some ways, we’re very much still children.

“You’re going to be fine, darling.” Gran reaches up to adjust my crown. It’s the one I’ve had since I was seventeen. Gran bought it for me on my first day in Watford Cove. It’s just a little line of pink rosebuds across the top of my head, simple but pretty. Gran said that the one time my Mum was able to phone her while with my Dad, she called me her rosebud boy. My Mum called me such sweet things, and didn’t even live long enough for me to remember them myself.

“You’re thinking about your Mum, aren’t you?” Gran whispers, snapping me out of it. She’s got a tiny, sad smile on her face. I nod slowly.

“Y-Yeah. Sorta wondering what she’d think and all. It’s inevitable, I guess.”

Gran nods. She moves both hands to my front, holding my jacket. Her smile is still small but very kind. “Well, I think I knew my own daughter pretty well, so I can tell you a few things for sure.” I can see the way her eyes are quivering. She’s trying to keep from crying. “My darling Lucy loved you before you were even born, Simon. So she would be incredibly happy that you have found true love. If she were here, she’d be walking you down the aisle instead of me.”

Fuck, that hits me right in the heart in the best way. I smile, a few tears falling down my cheeks. “Darn it, Gran,” I chuckle, “I didn’t want to start crying until the vows at least.”

“Sorry, love.” She wipes at my face with her silk handkerchief. “Don’t worry, you’ve still got enough tears in you for Basil.”

“Oh definitely. I’m going to be a fucking waterfall.”

“Language, love.”

“Sorry, Gran. I’m just nervous.”

She cups my cheek, running a thumb under my eye to catch a stray tear. “I know, darling, I know. Don’t worry, it will be great.” There’s a thumping on the door, making me jump and my breath catch. That’s our signal. Gran holds out her arm for me with a grin. “Showtime, Simon.”

I nod rapidly, and take her thin arm in mine. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Agatha, Micah, and Penny line up in front of us. Agatha knocks back, and the oak doors swing open. The three start slowly walking forward. I take a deep breath, and follow behind.

The Event Hall is insane. Despite being a small town, Watford Cove apparently expected to host huge galas or something, it’s enormous. The ceiling is high and curved, decorated with a fancy mosaic. The walls are intimidating dark wood with pretty carvings. Though they’re covered up with flower garlands right now. The rose garlands are alternating pink and black, like the rest of our decorations, because we’re cheesy and like to stick to our aesthetics. As Gran and I walk forward, everyone’s standing up from their benches. And I mean everyone. We ended up inviting a lot of people. My aunt and uncle, my cousins, Aunt Fiona, Mitali, Martin, Penny’s siblings, Baz’s siblings, his extended family, his uni friends, my uni friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wellbelove, even Ebb and her twin brother. I can feel all their eyes on me. I gulp down my nervous lump and try to keep smiling at them.

But when I look at the altar, well, I don’t have any trouble smiling at all.

He’s standing right there, right at the end of aisle, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear under a canopy of black and pink silk. His suit isn’t very traditional either. Malcolm nearly had a heart attack when Baz announced what he wanted to wear to the ceremony, but it looks amazing. A leather jacket pairs surprisingly well with a black button down and slacks. A pink rose is attached his lapel, same as Dev and Niall next to him, while Mordelia has a pink flower crown on her head. Baz’s hair is slicked back, but a few strands falling in front of his pretty face. I have to resist the urge to run up and tackle kiss him. This is supposed to be a serious event dammit. Even though I’m wearing a flower crown and he’s wearing a biker jacket.

Gran walks me to the steps and we stop. She kisses my cheek. I can feel a few saltwater drops hit my skin. I’m pretty sure a few are mine too. I hold her hand as I climb the white steps. Just as I reach the top, I turn back. Gran gives me one last big smile from below. I smile back, mouthing “thank you.” She nods once, and we let go.

But Baz is right there to catch my hand.

He pulls me the last step towards him. We stand facing each other, both hands together. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning. My heart is about to burst out of my chest.

“Hi,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage. My brain is too overwhelmed to think of words.

“Hi,” he replies. “Glad you could make it.”

I chuckle. “Same to you.”

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Please be seated,” Mr. Kelly, our officiant says, loud enough that I know he means to shut us up. Baz gives me fake look of deference. It makes grin even harder. Christ, I really can’t stop grinning.

“Today,” he announces, “we are here to witness the union between two men I hope you all know.” A chuckle rumbles through the crowd. “And it will be my job to officiate the marriage between Simon Snow Salisbury and Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.” I squeeze Baz’s hands. He squeezes back. “I’ve gotten to know these two wonderful men over the past few weeks. They’re very smart, very kind, and very much in love. They’re one of those rare, beautiful cases of finding true love at a young age. And it’s my honour today to help them celebrate their union and make it legally official. Now, I believe the grooms have their own vows prepared. Who would like to go first?”

Baz and I already decided who would go first. We both know I’ll be a complete mess after hearing Baz’s vows, so I need to go first. Baz and I (reluctantly) let our hands go. I take the folded note paper out of my suit pocket. My hands are shaking but I’m still able to read the words.

“Baz,” I start, “as you and everyone else knows, I’m not that great with words. So it took me awhile to figure out what to say. How can I just, summarise everything about you in words? We’ve been together for a very long time and I I know you better than anyone. So I know that you’re a lot Baz, and I mean that in a good way.”

“I hope so,” Baz says with a smirk. The crowd laughs with us.

“Don’t worry, I really do. You’ve always been a lot in a good way. I still remember the day we first met. You held your head high, like you could take on the world. I couldn’t look away, and I really haven’t stopped looking ever since, I guess. That was just the start though. I soon found out you were ‘a lot’ in other ways too. A lot charming, a lot funny, a lot kind, a lot of just everything good. You’re a really great person, Baz. You amaze me all the time. You’re the strongest, most astounding person I know. Being with you is always a new adventure. Sure, we’ve had our ups and down.” (We have small fights over dumb stuff but only a few big fights really, like our pre relationship fall out or brief break up after uni, aka the worst three months of my fucking life.)

“But ever since high school, I’ve always been happier with you. No one makes me feel like you do, even eleven years later. So, yeah, I don’t want to be with anyone else ever. I just want to marry you. And when we’re married, I promise to listen to your weird music, to repaint your nails when they’re chipped, to hold onto you tight and never let go, and just, y’know, love and care for you for the rest of our lives. I mean that with all my heart, because you’re the best thing in the world. That’s, uh, that’s it.”

I take a deep breath as I put the paper back in my pocket. Slowly, I look back up at Baz. He seems to be awestruck I think. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open slightly, tears welling in his eyes, but also happy. He can’t be too surprised. He must know all this already. I’ve said this stuff before in in pieces at different times. Maybe hearing it all together and in public is weird. I reach out and squeeze his hand. He smiles and squeezes back.

“Dammit,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be coherent for this, love.”

I along with everyone else laughs. Baz takes his own deep breath, looking more nervous than I’ve ever seen him. Even as he pulls his own note paper out, he keeps holding my hand. I think he needs to. I don’t mind, I won’t let go.

“Dear Simon,” he says, “I’m writing this three days previous at my desk, trying to figure out what to say on our wedding day, You’re sleeping four feet away from me, curled up with our cat, drooling on your pillow.” I giggle and my face turns bright red. “I look at you and a small part of me is still astounded you want to be with me. You are bright everywhere I'm dark. For awhile I felt unworthy because you were so perfect. But I've learned you aren't this untouchable ray of sunshine. You're even better. You're a real person with problems and fears, who has come out of horrible things tougher but not jaded. And because we’re both messed up, we've learned to be messed up together. We keep each other sane. You're my boyfriend and my partner. l'm more grounded with you by my side. So I’ve realised perfect is too simple a word for you. You’re kind, caring, funny, strong, and incredible, Simon, and I'm amazed by you everyday too. I feel better with you, and I have almost since the day we met. As I write this now, watching you sleep in our bed, there are things I want to make sure you know at our wedding.”

He looks up at me, gazing right in my eye. It’s impossible for me to look away. “I promise to watch your stupid romcoms all the way to the end, to get you sour cherry scones when you’re sad, to support your art even if it means lugging around enormous canvases, and to always help you pick what pastel outfit you should wear. But most of all, I promise to be there for you, no matter what. You’re the love of my life, Simon Snow Salisbury. I already know we’re going to be together forever, but I can’t wait to be married to you as well.”

I sniffle without shame. How the fuck am I not supposed to cry after that? We agreed to both have promises in our vows, but that’s all I knew before today. I want to snog him right now, other people be damned. But Gran would be upset. So I settle for just squeezing his hand. Baz squeezes back, and after putting his paper away, he reaches up to carefully wipe at my eyes. I can’t wait to be married to him too.

“Very beautiful vows” Mr. Kelly says, and he sounds a little teary himself. “My words absolutely cannot follow up, but I’ll try.” Everyone laughs through their quiet crying. “Simon Snow Salisbury, do you wish to be bound in matrimony to this man, till death do you part?”

“I do,” I say without hesitation.

“And Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, do you wish to be bound in matrimony to this man, till death do you part?”

“I do,” he says immediately too.

“Perfect, good to hear. You may exchange the rings.”

Baz lets one of my hands drop and squeezes the other. “You go first, love.”

My throat is still too choked up to do anything but nod. I take the ring out of my pocket. Since our styles clash so much, Baz and I decided to get rings made in the same design but made from different materials. They’re both smooth on each side with braided metal in the middle. (I don’t know how it’s done, but it looks so cool.) Baz’s is black tungsten with a silver braid. It matches his leather jacket perfectly. I easily slip it over his long, bony finger.

“Now your turn,” I say.

Baz eagerly brings out my ring. It’s rose gold on the outside with a regular gold braid. Baz grins at me as he puts it on. The metal is cold right now. But I know eventually it will warm up, because I’m never taking off unless I really have to. And maybe I won’t even then.

“By the power vested in me by the Government of Great Britain,” Mr. Kelly says grandly, “I pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

Mr. Kelly is barely done speaking before Baz and I are leaning forward. Baz cups my cheeks tenderly, I grip his forearms, and our mouths meet in a simple kiss. But it’s not simple. It’s our first kiss as husbands. And that makes it incredible. I’m so lost in the warm feeling of his lips I barely hear the applause and huge cheers from the crowd. We reluctantly part for politeness sake. Baz and I are both grinning and crying. We probably look ridiculous, but who the fuck cares? We’re allowed to look ridiculous right now.

“We’re married,” Baz whispers.

“We’re married,” I echo, equally shocked and so fucking happy.

Baz weaves our fingers together, then turns us to face the crowd. It’s quite a sight to see. All our family and friends, standing up, cheering for us with big smiles. My eyes meet Gran’s. Her smile is softer, and her claps aren’t as hard, but everything is said in the way she looks at me. Congratulations, she says with no words, I’m so proud of you.

I smile as wide as I can back at her.

Me and Baz step off the riser together. Baz raises our hands together, earning a particularly loud cheer from all our loved ones. The cool metal of Baz’s ring presses hard into my skin.

I’m so goddamn happy.

———————————————

Though it’s a bit tedious, taking the wedding photos is a lot of fun. The edge of the Wavering Wood is right near the hall. It’s a flat field with lots of beautiful trees and flowers in the background. The photographer is one of Baz’s many cousins, and he’s very good. He gets us to do many different poses. Some are serious, like looking at each other longingly under a willow tree branch, and some are funny, like Baz suddenly hoisting me up off my feet while I giggle in shock. I’m pretty sure I’m going to love all of them.

We take a lot of photos with our family and friends too. Gran, the Grimms, our wedding parties, some pictures separate and some together. I notice the that first Grimm photo is, well, a bit grim. I tell Baz to smile more, and he glares at first, but does. The others follow suit. They still look stiff, but it’s better. I’m more than pleased.

Baz is taking a picture with his siblings when my phone buzzes. I look down and don’t recognise the number. But Tibby, fellow community centre employee and indie artist, said she was getting a new number soon.

“Fuck, I have to go get this,” I grumble.

“Simon,” Baz groans, looking at me and probably ruining his photo. “C’mon.”

“It might be Tibby! She said she’d call me if our art got into the New Artist's show at Maureen Paley.�� Baz still looks upset. I walk up and kiss his cheek, lightly touching his ring. “Two minutes, okay?”

Baz sighs with affectionate exasperation. “Fine, two minutes.”

I kiss his cheek again then dash off across the field. I answer the phone on the last ring. “Hey, Tibby. Did we get it? I’m a bit busy so can you-”

“Hello, Simon.”

I freeze. My blood runs ice cold. The ground is opening up underneath me, I swear. I can feel my muscles shaking so hard I nearly drop the phone. It takes a good few seconds for me to find my voice again.

“Hi, Dad,” I say shakily. “H-How did you get this number? I changed it last year.”

“You have an artist’s Facebook page, son. It was easy enough.”

Shit. I’m going to delete that the second I get home. “Oh, okay. Why are you calling?”

“I heard you were getting married today.”

“Oh,” I squeak. “Um, yeah, I am. Well, I did. But...how did you find out? You don’t follow me on social media, and we haven’t talked in awhile.” How could he know? He shouldn’t know. Fucking hell, he can’t know.

“I met a member of the Grimm family at an education conference last year. We followed each other on Facebook. He just posted a picture from his cousin Basilton’s wedding, and imagine my surprise when I saw my own son kissing the groom. So, did my invitation get lost in the mail?”

I gulp down the lump that has suddenly formed in my throat. “It’s, uh, small. There aren’t a lot of people...”

“Not enough space for your own father?”

God, I forgot how quick he is. How easily he can turn the conversation back to his side. I pull at my hair almost painfully. “I-it’s just, Dad, I-”

I take a deep breath, reminding myself I’m not that weak kid he can pick on anymore. I’m twenty eight years old now, dammit. I have a life, a job, a wonderful husband, nothing he can take away. I don’t have to be scared anymore.

“Dad,” I say firmly, “you weren’t invited. Whatever bit of good relationship we had is long gone. You don’t approve of anything in my life. Not my profession, not my sexuality, not even my fashion sense. I wanted to enjoy my wedding day. Which meant you couldn’t be here.”

There’s a long pause. My heart beats faster with every passing second, but I did it. I stood up to him. After all these years, I can finally tell him off. At least a bit. But that’s more than ever before. I did it, I did it, I di-

“You insolent little brat, how dare you?” he growls. And all of my confidence blinks away in an instant. “After everything I’ve done for you. All I ever did was try to raise you to be better, but you spit in my face. You’re just bloody useless. You’re a complete idiot, a moron, a leech, Simon!”

He keeps going on, and all I can do is stand there. Just stand and listen to my father tear into me. I can’t move. I’m a kid all over again, listening as my father loudly berates me for whatever new screw up I had done. My whole body is shaking, tears streaming down my face, every muscle in my body shaking. I can’t even put down the fucking phone.

“I wish you were never born,” he yells. “You’ve never been anything but a disappointment, you stupid little f-”

The phone is suddenly ripped out of my hand. A familiar hand holds my shoulder. Baz stands in front of me. His face is completely impassive. I know that face, he’s in cold arsehole mode.

“Hello,” Baz says. “This is the man Simon just married. I’m here to tell you that as long as I’m around, you will not hurt him anymore. And you absolutely will not ruin his wedding day, understood? No,” he growls, cold cruelty turning into fury, “ you listen to me, you prick. The second I hang up I’m going to block this number. Don’t contact my husband ever again, or I’ll use all our family’s considerable wealth and influence to ruin your goddamn life. Goodbye.”

Baz hangs up and blocks the number, just like he said he would. Then he immediately wraps his arms around me. I sink into his embrace and bury my face in his shoulder, racked with full body sobs. Baz just keeps holding me.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s over. He won’t hurt you anymore. It’s alright, love.”

“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I-I shouldn’t have answered, I’m-”

“None of that, love. It wasn’t your fault. You haven’t heard from him in six years, of course you wouldn’t think it was him.”

I sniffle very unattractively. “H-He saw a photo, of us, today. He asked why he wasn’t invited, and I told me the real reason, a-and he went off at me, and I-

“Shh, it’s alright, I heard. You stood up for yourself, you courageous fuck. I’m so goddamn proud of you.”

“You-You heard?”

“Yes. Well, the last part. I saw you go stiff and I got worried so I got closer, but I didn’t want to step in unless you needed me. I heard the of your amazing speech to him, and I thought everything would be alright. I was walking away when I heard you crying. I don’t know what he said, love, but I don’t care. Whatever it was, he will never talk to you like that again. I promise, okay?”

I nod against his shoulder. “O-Okay.”

We stand there for awhile, me gripping his suit and him stroking my hair. Baz keeps holding me up, like he always has for me, like I have for him too. Without a second thought, I tilt my head up to kiss him. It’s not hard or forceful, just firm. Baz kisses me back, swiping his thumb across my cheek and holding my waist. Our lips slowly slide together. Baz pulls me even closer. With every passing second of him kissing me, all my old fears melt away. They go back into the past where they belong. My father can’t hurt me anymore. He never will again, not as long as Baz is here. I’m glad Baz feels grounded with me. Because I absolutely feel grounded with him too.

We pull apart, even though I’d gladly kiss him forever. “Come on,” he whispers, “only a few more photos and we get to go to the reception.”

I nod, weaving my fingers with his. “Alright. Thank you.”

He places a last peck on my temple. “Anytime, love.”

We go back to the group. Gran notices my face immediately. She takes out her ever present handkerchief and dabs under my eyes and tells me to blow my nose with it. Penny squeezes my hand, Micah puts an arm around me, and Agatha gives me a sympathetic look. None of them why I was crying. I’m very grateful, because if I talk about it I’ll start crying again. I’ll tell them later though. They deserve to know.

The rest of the photos go off without a hitch. Well, not any big hitches. Micah gives me bunny ears in one photo, which makes Agatha snort and Penny roll her eyes with a smile. Dev, Niall, and Mordelia lift Baz up on his side, causing my lovely husband to let out a string of curses at them in both English and Greek. We get a final picture with all our family and friends, who are family too. Not my father, though. I don’t need him. These are the people I care about, and care about me in return, far more than he ever did.

———————————————

The reception is held in the Event Hall dining room. It’s covered in similar decorations, lots of pink and black everywhere. I love it. It's sort of how our flat is decorated, honestly. Our wedding parties sit at the head table, but we have to go “work the room” as Baz calls it.

“I want food,” I whine.

“We’ll get food soon, love,” Baz sighs. “We just have to go be nice to people.

“People are gross.”

Baz giggles, leaning against me. “That’s my line.”

I lean into him more. “We’re married, so what’s mine is yours now, remember?”

He giggles again. It’s a really pretty sound. “I suppose you have a point.”

I kiss him quickly, and we go off towards the tables. Everyone is very nice, congratulating us, wishing us a happy marriage. Ebb is weepy of course, saying how proud she is of me after all I went through, and I thank her for being here and always being my friend. I pick up my little cousin while Baz talks to one of his uncles, and she tries to take off my flower crown and rip my hair out. I don’t mind. She’s too adorable to stay mad at. Baz’s Aunt Fiona gives us both huge bear hugs and messes up our hair. We spent so much time with her during uni she’s pretty much become my aunt too. My art school friends ask if I’m going to make a wedding sketch series like I mentioned. One of Baz’s older relatives asks when we’re going to have a baby, because "the gays can do that now, right?" We get away from her quite quickly. It’s an enjoyable, slightly exhausting whirlwind.

Eventually, we finally get to sit and eat. I fall into my chair with a groan.

“Tired, Si?” Penelope asks with a smirk.

“Shut up,” I grumble.

“Now you know how I felt at my wedding, Si. Bloody exhausting affair, getting married.”

“Amen, Penny.”

The catering staff brings out the first course, French onion soup, and I immediately drink it down. Baz tells me to slow down but I’m so fucking hungry. I was so nervous this morning I barely ate. I wolf down the main course too. It’s chicken cordon bleu, Baz’s favourite. Honestly, it’s sort of become my favourite too. Some of his posh tastes have rubbed off on me in our eleven years, of course. Some of my tastes have rubbed off on him too. He really likes sour cherry scones now, which I find absolutely amazing.

Before the cake, our parents/caregivers go up and do speeches. Gran goes first. She talks about how glad she was to take care of, what a good person I am, and how elated she is that I’ve found happiness in art and with Baz. She says she looks forward to seeing more of the incredible things I do. I hug her fiercely, thanking her again for everything she’s given me. I can never thank her enough for that.

Mr. Grimm goes next. He’s stoic of course but very sweet, saying he’s glad Baz is happy with me. At the very end, he admits that he hasn’t always been the best father, but he’s very proud of the man Baz has become and Natasha would’ve been too. I grip Baz’s hand very tight at that. I can see him holding back a lot of tears. (Years of therapy has helped with a lot of his guilt over his mum’s death, but it’s still a hard subject.) Baz thanks his father, and even hugs him. Wow. That usually only happens at Christmas after a glass of wine.

Penny of course makes a speech too. She’s equal parts sarcastic and kind, saying how she really fucking hated people until she met me. That I'm a very good friend who she's glad she met. And even though she didn’t like Baz at first, she’s seen how happy he makes me, so she’ll let him stick around.

“It’s not like I’ll go anywhere she tells me to,” he mutters with a pleased smile. I sigh heavily. These two, my god, what am I going to do with them?

Dev and Niall make a speech together. They tell embarrassing stories about Baz from their childhood together, making Baz glare and flush. I try to stifle my laughter but it’s useless. They say I'm the best influence on Baz, and he's been far happier since almost the moment he met me, even before we were together. That's nice to hear. The pair congratulates us at the end, wishing us years of wedded bliss. And Baz does smile. So he’s not that mad, really.

“Time for cake?” I eagerly ask.

“Yes,” Baz says with a smile, “time for cake.”

The caterers roll in the huge three layer cake. Keeping with the theme, it’s black and pink with lots of flowers. They’re super realistic looking even though they’re made from sugar. I want to eat all of them. Baz and I cut it together to a round of polite applause. The cake is cherry red velvet. I didn’t know that flavour existed until we started look at different kinds of cakes. Baz and I agreed to it almost immediately. So of course I eat three slices.

“Simon, you’re going to be sick,” Agatha says.

“I’ll live,” I reply, waving my fork.

“Will you really?” Baz drawls sarcastically. “Because I am not dealing with cherry scented vomit. Again.”

My cheeks go bright red. “That was one time! How was I supposed to know cherry flavoured beer was a bad idea?!”

“Because the name itself sounds like regret,” Penelope oh so helpfully adds in.

“Exactly, Bunce.”

I stick out my tongue at both of them. “Like you’re one to talk,” I grumble, “you fell off your motorbike while trying to pop a wheelie on a hill.”

It’s Baz’s turn to look embarrassed, flush crawling up his pretty face. Dev, Niall, and Mordelia all start laughing at him. Not even Baz's glare shuts them up. “That was one time,” he grumbles.

I put my hand over his, spinning his ring around. “Yup. Aren’t we a pair, love?”

He chuckles and flips his hand over, lacing our fingers together. “That we are, darling, that we are.”

Once we’re done the cake, we’re told it’s time for our first dance. I’m a bit nervous because I’m a pretty terrible dancer. Baz and I have been practicing in preparation for today, but I’m still nervous. I hope I don’t fuck it up.

We stand in the middle of the dance floor. The room gets a bit dimmer, replaced with coloured lights, making everything a bit more quiet and romantic. Baz looks at me, half his face illuminated in silver and pink light. His smile is literally shining. As if he could get anymore dazzling. His arm wraps around my waist, I hold his leather clad shoulder, and our hands stick out together. His ring presses into my skin again. I like that, a lot.

“Ready?” he asks.

“No,” I chuckle, “but let’s do it.”

The music starts. It’s an acoustic version of one of Baz’s weird pop punk love songs. I like things soft and he likes things punk, it’s a happy middle ground, like the rest of our relationship. And we start dancing.

Honestly, it’s barely more than swaying. We move in a small circle on the smooth floor. But I don’t step his feet, which is a vast improvement from usual. There’s barely any room between us, just how I like it. The song floats through the air, surrounding us in it’s quiet melody and soft lyrics.

Suddenly, I’m 17 all over again, dancing with Baz in my room to Troye Sivan the night before he might’ve left. I was so terrified back then, desperate to keep Baz with me, and he was desperate to keep me too. That night was such a teen romance cliche, but I don’t regret it at all, and neither does Baz. Thankfully, we aren’t scared anymore. We’ve known for a long time that neither of us are going anywhere. And I’m reminded of that by the way he looks unflinchingly in the eye. I don’t look away either. I quickly realise there’s something I still haven’t said today.

“I love you,” I say, quietly, just as the song ends.

Baz’s grin gets even wider. He leans down, forehead pressed to mine. Everyone is cheering around us, but all I hear is his voice.

“I know,” he whispers, “I love you too.”

We keep our foreheads together for another moment. Unfortunately I can’t snog him silly right now. Maybe later. (Definitely later.) We bow to our adoring friends and family. They all look so happy. There’s barely a trace of Davy’s words left in my mind. He can’t ruin today. He can’t ruin anything anymore and never will again. My life is too strong to let him.

We invite everyone to come to the dance with us. The music picks up into one of my favourite pop tunes. I’m almost immediately jumping to the beat. My crown nearly flies off I’m so enthusiastic, making Baz snort with laughter. Soon everyone is dancing happily. Agatha is actually literally swing dancing with her girlfriend, laughing loudly. I dance with everyone I can. Swanning about with Gran, jumping with my groom’s maids and man, letting my little cousin stand on my feet. I see Baz doing similar things with his friends and family. He’s doing a sort of waltz with Daphne, and I’m chatting with my uncle. We smile at each other. It may just be my mind tricking me, but I swear my ring warms up a bit.

———————————————

“Have you got enough clothes?” Gran asks.

“Yes, Gran,” I reply.

“Toiletries?”

“Yes.”

“Food? You do get hungry-”

“Gran,” I hold both her hands firmly, “I’m fine. I’ve got everything we need, alright?”

She takes a deep breath, though her mouth is still a thin line. “I’m just unsure how you and Basil can fit all you need in that backpack.”

She indicates my camping bag, which is, in my opinion, quite large enough. “I promise you, Gran, it’s fine. Plus we’ve got Baz’s enormous tail bag too. You could fit a country in there.”

“No complaining about the tail bag when it’s going to hold all your snacks, Salisbury,” Baz says from where he’s sitting on his bike. He was talking to Dev and Niall, but he has damn super hearing, the wonderful bastard. I stick my tongue out at him.

I look back at Gran, who’s still nervous. I step closer. “We’ll be fine. If we don’t have something we need, we’ll just pick it up along the way.”

“Will you be safe though?”

“I’ve ridden on Baz’s motorcycle many times before and I’m still here.”

She frowns, obviously annoyed. “Not for three weeks straight across the UK and Ireland. What if it breaks down?”

“Baz just got a tune up, but if there are any problems, he'll fix them. He's got his toolkit in the infinite tail bag.”

"What about your jobs?"

"The community centre loves me. They were more than happy to give me a month off for my honeymoon. And Baz isn't teaching any summer courses this year so the university doesn't need him until late August."

"What if you get lost?"

"Baz has stuff memorized and we've got GPS, but," I pat my enormous bag, "I've also got a physical map in here with our route drawn out in case our phones die."

“Alright...”

She still looks very nervous, because of course she is. Gran shows her love by fussing. The day I moved to London she was a nervous mess. I wish she wouldn’t worry, but I appreciate her caring. I kiss her forehead.

“I’ll be alright, Gran,” I say. “We'll be back here having dinner with you and everyone else before you know it. Okay?” Watford Cove is our last stop before going back to London, of course. We’ll be having a big feast with both sides of the family. It’ll certainly be a good end to a long trip.

That makes some of the tension fall from her body. “Okay. Call me when you can?”

“Of course.” I look to my left, at Penny, Micah, and Agatha. “And you guys will keep the flat in order right? And make sure Cherry is good? He gets jumpy so you’ve got to play with him for a little while. And he needs two meals a day. And-”

“We know, Si,” Penny says, rolling her eyes.

“We’ve got your checklists,” Micah adds in.

“First week and a half will be mine and Felicia's job,” Agatha says, repeating what we agreed on. “Then we'll go back to California and I’ll hand off cat and house sitting duties to Penelope and Micah for the next week and a half.”

“And I’m taking yours and Basil’s suits home for safe keeping,” Gran says cheerily.

I grin. Of course I already knew all that, but it’s good to hear it again. “Awesome. We’ll call to check in, and call us if you need to.”

Penny waves dismissively. “Don’t call us, Si. Everything will be fine. Go enjoy your honeymoon. We’ll clean up the reception, hold onto your fancy clothes, and take care of your nightmare pet well, trust us.”

I pout. “Cherry isn’t a nightmare, just energetic.”

“Mhm, right.” She pushes lightly on my shoulders. “Now go have fun. And don’t crash into anything, please.”

“Don’t insult my driving, Bunce.” Baz calls back. “I’ve had a motorbike for over a decade and haven’t crashed once.”

“But you’ve almost crashed more times than I can remember.”

Baz glares harder. But he holds out his hand, and Penny takes it. They shake once. “See you in three weeks, Bunce,” he says with a small smile. “Thank you, for everything.”

She shakes back, smiling too. “You’re welcome. Now get on with your honeymoon.”

“Will do, if Simon can get going.” He raises his eyebrow at me. I huff, blowing hair from my eyes.

“Hold your horses, we’ve got time”

“It’s getting dark, love. And we should get to the first hotel soon if we want to stay on schedule.”

“There’s a schedule?” Agatha asks a bit astounded.

“Oh yeah,” I snort. “Baz has our road trip planned down to bathroom breaks. For a punk, he loves to be all structured and shit.”

Baz holds his nose up, looking extremely snooty. “I like to know where I’m going, sue me. And you liked the trip schedule when I showed it to you, so fuck off, love.”

“I don’t think marriage is going to change much for you too,” Penelope chuckles quietly.

“Yeah,” I sigh dreamily with a big grin, “I know.”

Even though he’s a prick (I adore him, but he is), Baz has a point. We need to get going. I hug Gran, Agatha, Penny, and Micah as tight as I can. Baz hugs Malcolm, Daphne, Dev, Niall, Mordelia, and his other siblings. They stand together in front of the Event Hall, the lights from the end of the reception still shining from the windows. I zip up my floral leather jacket (20th birthday present from Baz) all the way up, put on my riding gloves over my ring, and secure my pale blue helmet. Baz throws on his own jet black helmet. It has silver vines that I painted on. I’m very proud of it. I sit on the bike and wind my arms around his waist, like I have a hundred times before, and like I will a hundred times more.

Baz looks at me over his shoulder, a glint in his beautiful eyes and a playful smirk on on his mouth.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

I almost say, I’d go anywhere with you, but that feels just a bit too cheesy. Maybe I’ll say it later. For now, I just nod, and say, “yeah, let’s get going.”

His smiles wider, and puts a hand on his visor. “Allons-y,” he says.

He still says that all the time, eleven years after our first kiss. I’m reminded of that night every time he says it. And I love it.

“Allons-y,” I reply.

We flip down our visors, give one last wave to our loved ones, and drive off into the dying light of the late of the evening. Baz drives us through Main Street. I recognise the places. Ms. Pritchard’s Bakery, the drug store with my favourite nail varnish, the park where I asked Baz to be my boyfriend, the ice cream parlour we all went to after graduating high school and then later uni, and a familiar hill in the distance; Where Mt. Olympus is, where I first kissed Baz, and where he proposed to me last Christmas. The memories race through my mind as we race through the streets.

Baz takes us up a hill. I get a lovely view of the entire town. It looks beautiful at night, with lights like stars and the sparkling lake in the distance. I hold Baz even tighter. I’m so unbelievably grateful for what I found in Watford Cove.

———————————————

Awwwww totally cheesy, I know. They deserve cheesy goodness after all the shit they went through. And here's a little insight into their future lives: yes, Baz is a university professor, but he refuses to change his fashion sense. He teaches a first year English 101 course (his hell) and a third year queer literature course (his heaven). He's everyone's fave prof because of how badass and sarcastic he is. Simon works at a community center with little children while still doing art on the side. He loves making kids happy and tries to be the kind of person for them that Ebb was for him growing up. For art, he does showings at local galleries, sells prints at hipster markets, and posts stuff on his tumblr blog. Simon and Baz are obviously still pretty damn in love. They have a date night once a week, drive around London on Baz's motorbike all the time, love to snuggle on the couch together to watch TV, all while living in a pastel pink flat covered in punk posters along with their nightmare cat, Cherry. In summary, they're very happy.

Two other things: this is the design I based their rings off of, and this is the song they dance to. Y'all might recognise it as the song where the title for one of the chapters of Watford Cove came from :) It's one of my fave songs ever so I'm absolutely projecting lol.

Thanks for reading, hope you liked this glimpse into the future of my punk/pastel Simon and Baz. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Watford Cove has always been one of my faves so returning to that world was nice. So that's it for the requests. Black Swan will keep updating, I'm currently working on the warlock and knight fic and that will hopefully be finished in a couple weeks, baring any school or health complications, and I'll def be opening requests again in May. Thanks a million to those who requested stuff. And just as big a thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented, and/or left kudos on the fics. It's been a blast. See you guys next time :)

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #agatha wellbelove #micah #ruth salisbury #watford cove #fluff #light angst #mysnowbazfic

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