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sanguineterrain · 3 years

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Brooklyn Honey - Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Repost!) Hello, this is for the lovely @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge. I decided to go with the song prompt “Life in the City” by The Lumineers. It really reminded me of 40s Bucky.

Title: Brooklyn Honey

Summary: Life in the city ain’t always so pretty, but you’ve got Bucky and he’s got you.

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: nah

***

“That’s so not how you do it.”

“Sorry, I must’ve missed the day you wrote the manual on how to put up curtains.”

“You sure did, and I can tell you as an expert, the nails aren’t supposed to resemble a mountain range.”

“Smartass. C’mere.”

Bucky’s palm opened and you took a nail, carefully tapping it into the wall.

“Or is it the skyline you’re going for?”

“You’re pretty mouthy for an assistant.”

“I keep it interesting, doll.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“James Barnes, what on earth are you doing in there?!”

Your eyes went wide and you hurried to scramble off the chair you were standing on. Bucky put a hand on your back, shaking his head.

“Buck—”

“I got it, don’t worry. Keep hammering.”

“But—”

“Honey, don’t you trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

More knocking, faster and louder this time.

“Coming, Mrs. Anderson!”

Bucky buttoned up his shirt, smoothing his pomade-slicked hair back, and went to answer.

You stepped down from the chair anyway, daring to peek around the corner.

He had his arms up, trying to fill the entire door frame and hide the obnoxiously yellow curtains you probably weren’t supposed to have. Mrs. Anderson, Steve and Bucky’s busybody next door neighbor, was a small, shriveled, old woman with a perpetually pinched face that looked like it had been stored in a jar of formaldehyde for the last twenty years. She kept trying to look over Bucky’s shoulder but he wouldn’t let her, moving when she did.

“—could’ve sworn I heard hammering coming from this apartment.”

“Oh! You must’ve heard me fixing my bike.”

“You don’t have a bike, James.”

“Did I say my bike? I meant Steve’s.”

“Steve rides a bike?”

“Absolutely. Keeps him fit.”

“I don’t recall seeing him ever—”

“Well, bye, Mrs. Anderson! Always a pleasure to see you, ma’am.”

She gave another stern look before shaking her head, walking away.

You sighed as Bucky shut the door with his foot, a too sly smile on his face.

“Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”

“I think you might be a worse liar than Steve.”

“Well, ouch, doll.”

“First of all, who’s ever heard of needing a hammer to fix a bike?”

“We can be the first.”

“Next time, I’m answering the door.”

You clambered back onto the chair, returning to knocking in the nails.

“I still don’t understand why you wanted curtains in the first place.”

“It adds a homely touch, doll. Aren’t you the one who’s always complaining about how drab this place is?”

“Of course, but it’s not my apartment.”

“It could be, with how often you’re over,” Bucky said sweetly.

“Keep dreaming, Barnes.”

“I will,” he assured with a smile that could melt butter.

You shook your head and returned to focus on the curtains. True, the first one was beyond help in terms of nail placement, but the least you could do was try and make the next one even.

Bucky had offered at least ten times to do it himself but there was no way he was getting his hands on a hammer after what had happened when he’d tried to install some shelves last winter.

Besides, you were better at decorating when it came down to it. At least, that’s what Bucky kept insisting, letting you do essentially anything you wanted to the apartment.

The chair suddenly groaned under additional weight and you startled as you felt the side of a body press against yours.

“How’s it goin’?”

“Bucky, this chair really isn’t meant for two people.”

“You sure? Seems pretty sturdy to me.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and you fixed him with a look.

“What? Don’t want you to fall.”

“How valiant of you.”

“Ain’t it?”

He hopped off before you could scold him further, grinning up at you.

“Beer?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Bucky disappeared and returned a minute later with an open bottle for you, holding it so you could sip safely while still perched on the chair.

Then you kept hammering, eyes narrowed as you focused on not hitting anything other than the nail.

Bucky watched from the floor as you did so, leaning back on his hands.

“What’re you looking at?” you asked after a while, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He shrugged, a gentle smile on his face.

“The city.”

***

“Honey, I’m home!”

“What did I say about that, Barnes?”

“You said… you’ll love me for all eternity because you’re as sweet as honey?”

“I think it was more along the lines of, ‘don’t call me honey unless you mean it.’”

“I always mean it, Y/N.”

And that was a little more sincerity than you were willing to explore, so you pointed to the bag instead.

“What’s that?”

Bucky grinned, setting a giant paper sack on the counter.

“Lemons.”

“What?”

“Lemons. You know, the little yellow fruits that make you do this?”

Bucky puckered his mouth and smacked his tongue, eyes screwed shut.

“Lemon’s not a fruit.”

“It sure is! Fruit got seeds. Read that in a book about agriculture. We produce a lot of corn, did you know that?“

“Okay, Bucky, the presiding question still remains: why do you have every lemon in the city?”

“There was a good deal at the docks. Dirt cheap for produce. Some guys told me they were takin’ some home for their wives. Didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“I’m not your wife.”

Bucky just grinned. You rolled your eyes.

“I don't know who taught you this, but the way to a girl’s heart is not twenty pounds of lemons.”

“Think of all the lemonade we can make.”

“Unless you’ve also got FDR and his cabinet in those bags, we’re gonna have a lot of leftovers.”

“Look at it this way: no vitamin C deficiency. One less thing to worry ‘bout.”

“Bucky.”

“They’re not all lemons, doll. I got other stuff too. Tomatoes, cabbage, snuck some cucumbers, even bananas.”

You sighed, smiling tiredly. This ration was taking its toll on everyone. You knew Bucky was doing his best, had seen the vegetables and thought of you and how much you missed having cucumber salad and tomato sandwiches like you used to.

“Thank you, Bucky, really. I appreciate you.”

You brushed past him to begin preparing the excess vegetables you three wouldn’t eat this week to pickle. Salt and sugar was going to be hard to gather, but you’d manage. You always did.

“Welcome, doll.”

He beamed, eyes full of warmth as he watched you.

“You gonna stay for dinner?”

“I dunno. Seems like Steve’s gettin’ kinda tired of me,” you laughed.

“Never. ‘Sides, even if he was, doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, really?”

“Nope. ‘Cause you stay for me.”

“And where did you get that idea from?”

He shrugged.

“Seemed kinda obvious, doll. You’re smitten, admit it.”

“Oh dear, you’ve got me all figured out. However did you know?”

“I’m a bright fella.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You ain’t saying no…”

“Really, I have to say no? Can’t you tell I only stick around for the great deals you get on produce?”

“But it’s me that gets the great deals, so really, you’re still staying for me.”

Bucky was against the counter now, shoulder to shoulder with you.

You sighed, hand on your hip as you stared at the table.

“What the hell are we going to do with all these lemons?”

“We’ll figure something out. Always do, don’t we?”

You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, aware he was talking about more than the lemons.

“Yeah. We always do.”

***

Steve had been home for a while, wordlessly letting you in when you’d shown up an hour ago. You didn’t have to explain anything to him anymore.

The record player was on, crooning gently. Steve was in the corner, drawing, away from the window after the breeze had whipped his papers around one too many times.

“Can’t believe they’re building another skyscraper down on Lawrence.”

Steve frowned.

“Really? Won’t be able to see the sunset now.”

“Yeah. And Brooklyn’s not exactly known for its scenery to begin with. Saw a rat and a pigeon fighting over a pretzel this morning.”

Steve chuckled from the floor, shaking his head.

“Times are tough. Even for rats and pigeons.”

“Sure are.”

“Nice curtains, by the way. I like the color.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Did Bucky ask—?”

“No,” he answered, smile evident in his voice. “But that’s alright. I know he’s just tryin’ to gauge what you like.”

“What?”

“Yeah, after the war’s over and all, he’s gonna try and buy a nicer place.”

“And he wants my furnishing tips?”

Steve shrugged, gaze soft and knowing.

“Guess so.”

You cleared your throat, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Want some lemonade?”

“Jesus, there’s more? I thought we’d run out of bushels.”

“You’d think, right? I put ‘em in the icebox so they won’t spoil so fast.”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”

You were in the middle of stirring the pitcher when Bucky came in.

He didn’t greet you or Steve immediately, like he usually did, instead setting down his keys, then slapping the mail onto the table.

“Well, hey there, mister. Fancy a drink? Today’s special is sour lemonade, your favorite.”

Bucky looked up, startled, and glanced at the pitcher before nodding, attempting a half smile.

“Sure, doll. Thanks.”

“Everything okay, Buck?”

He nodded, slipping away to the bathroom with a sigh.

You turned to Steve, who shrugged.

“Long day at the docks, I guess.”

***

June twelfth. That was when Bucky was being shipped out, somewhere in Europe, too far from you. This entire year you’d been holding your breath, hoping, needing the draft to leave him alone.

Now they were taking him away from you in less than a week.

You were in the apartment, lying on the floor, on Bucky’s second to last day. That’s how he found you upon coming home.

“Trying to count all the cracks in the ceiling, doll? You’ll be here all night.”

You had a glass of lemonade by your head, spiked with a bit of rum. It was already warm, because it was summer and things were supposed to be warm in the summer.

The curtains danced in front of the window, yellow like sunshine and all those goddamn lemons in the freezer. The only respite from an otherwise colorless world.

“This city is so ugly.”

Bucky looked up at the sound of your voice. He walked over, crouching by your arm.

“Think so?”

“Yeah. Can’t find a single pretty thing in the city.”

“I can.”

“Can you?”

“Sure. She’s looking at me right now.”

“That was sappy.”

“Yes it was.”

Bucky lay down, rolling onto his side next to you, taking a sip from your glass.

“But I ain’t mean it any less.”

You hummed, closing your eyes.

“Well, for what it’s worth then, I think you’re handsome.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You could hear his proud smile.

“Don’t make me take it back.”

“No, I’m just surprised to hear it is all.”

“Surprised, huh? I’m certain I ain’t the first one to call you handsome.”

“You’re the only one I wanna hear it from.”

Something fluttered in your chest.

“What d’you say then? You and I, think we can take on a city as ugly as ours?”

He smiled.

“With you, doll?”

“Yeah.”

“With you, of course.”

“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Bucky propped his head up on his elbow. It was quiet again, with only your occasional sighs and his quiet breaths.

“What’re you looking at?” you breathed, opening your eyes.

“You.”

Bucky flicked a drop of lemonade from the tip of your nose.

You turned, now face to face.

And oh, Bucky’s blues. Those had been your color even before the curtains.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted.

He smiled a little sadly.

“Gonna miss you too, Y/N.”

You pushed your lips together, taking a deep breath.

“You were right, you know.”

“‘Bout what?”

“That day when you brought home all those lemons. You said that I stay for you.”

Bucky’s lips quirked, gaze fond like it always was.

“All those times I stayed for dinner and pretended to know what I was doing putting up those curtains. I stayed for you.”

You wiped your nose quickly, sniffling.

“And I’m gonna keep staying.”

“Yeah? What if the bridge collapses tomorrow?”

“I’ll swim.”

“Even in the winter?”

“I’ll get myself a pair of ice skates.”

“You don’t know how to skate, doll.”

“That’s right. So you better come back safe and teach me.”

Bucky leaned in, nose brushing your cheek. He rolled over and carefully straddled you, holding his weight.

“I’ll be there, honey.”

“Now what did we say about that?”

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched in thought.

“Don’t say it if I don’t mean it?”

You hummed, pulling him closer, arms around his neck. Bucky’s lips were a millimeter from yours, breath fanning over your chin.

“Mm, I think it was something about eternity.”

Bucky was soft, tangy and sweet. His scruff scraped your cheek and your fingers curled into the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

He slid his hands under your back and turned so you were on top, head on his chest. You lay like that for a while, listening to his heartbeat, arms strong around you.

Yellow fluttered in the breeze, tacked unevenly onto the wall, catching your eye.

Bucky glanced to the side, chuckling.

“Don’t let Anderson take our curtains away.”

“Of course not. I spent a weekend on those. She’ll have to fight me for ‘em.”

“Good God. Now I gotta worry about you brawling with old ladies and Steve getting into alley fights while I’m gone?”

“Nah. Steve’ll help me.”

“Oh, great.”

You reached up, brushing his jaw with your knuckles.

“Call me honey again.”

“Honey, honey, honey.”

You reached up to get just one last kiss, except it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. It couldn’t be.

“They’re not gonna take you away from me.”

Bucky shook his head, kissing you much slower this time, trying to memorize you before time ran out.

“Never. ‘M gonna think of you and I’ll be back ‘fore we know it.”

You nodded, wishing hard, hoping somebody was listening.

“Then, when I come back,” he whispered, promise riding on the summer air.

“We’re gonna make the best damn lemonade you’ve ever had.”

And maybe this city could take away your sunsets, your tea and jams, even your summer.

But if there was anything that was yours and yours only, it was the lemon pulp on Bucky’s lips and the undissolved sugar on your own, as bitter and pretty as home.

#bucky barnes x reader #1940s bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #kas9kwc #repost for those of you who asked <3

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

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Okay, I know hockey player versus figure skater is a super cliché rivalry, but all day today, my brain was like “hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian,” so here we are. Also, fun fact, this exact event actually happened to my little brother at one of his games. TW for blood and injuries. Hope you enjoy :) @nessianweek

The cool rush of the air conditioning is the first thing that hits Cassian as he pushes through the doors. The throwback pop song pumping out of the speakers and the smell of popcorn from the snack bar hits him next. He shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, resettling the weight, his sticks clacking together in his other hand. He makes his way over to the board declaring the locker room assignments for the day, squinting until he finds the Illyrians. He's about to head off toward their locker room when his eyes snag on someone.

Nesta is perched like a queen on one of the benches in the lobby, her white skates resting beside her. She has a sweatshirt pulled on, but the red skirts of her dress skim across her thighs, and Cassian can see the jeweled embellishments peeking out under the collar. Unsurprising, she has a book opened in her hands, probably another of her smutty romances. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, Cassian finds himself drawn into her eyes, the way they glint as they dance across the pages.

Cassian doesn't have to think twice before he's sauntering over to her. He drops his bag with a loud thump at her feet, a smile pulling across his face at her answering glower. He loves this game they play. The way he pushes her buttons and she pushes his always leaves flames licking up his skin in the most delicious way. He's sure they make quite the sight, the hockey player and the figure skater, but he'll never stop going back for more.

"What do you want, Cassian?"

"Love the outfit today, Nes. The sparkles really contrast well with your dark soul."

"Don't you have to go smash someone into the boards?"

"I'd love to press you up against the boards."

Cassian throws a wink her way for extra good measure, and the way Nesta's eyes narrow has his heart ticking up slightly in his chest.

"Prick," Nesta mumbles, opening back up her book.

With a chuckle, Cassian takes it for the cue that it is, picking back up his bag and heading for the locker room. He offers Azriel an easy grin as he passes him, his brother merely shaking his head at his antics yet again.

~ * * * ~

Nesta hears her sister before she sees her, Feyre's laughing bouncing off the walls of the lobby. She closes her book and grabs her skates, but as she heads for the door, her steps falter and pause as she takes in Elain walking in beside Feyre.

"Since when does it take both of you to pick me up?" Nesta asks once her sisters are close enough to hear.

"Actually," Feyre starts slowly. "We were thinking we could stick around for the game."

"What," Nesta deadpans, taking in both her sisters' expressions and inwardly sighing when she sees they're both actually serious. "Fine. Give me the keys, and I'll pick you both up later."

"Oh, Nesta," Elain says, taking Nesta's hand in her own. "It'll be fun. Besides, you and Cassian are friends. Don't you want to see him play?"

"We are not friends."

"That's for sure," Feyre pipes in. "There is way too much sexual tension for that to be considered friendship."

Nesta shoots a glare Feyre's way, but her sister merely smiles innocently. The mischievous glint swirling in her eyes tells Nesta she's not getting the keys from her youngest sister anytime soon. Which is how Nesta ends up pressed between her two sisters, the cold of the metal bleachers biting into the underside of her thighs and a shared blanket draped across their three laps. Elain keeps clapping excitedly to her right while Feyre shouts, "go, baby, go" every time Rhysand cuts up the ice on her left. Nesta thinks her eyes might actually get stuck from rolling them so much.

Despite the equipment and jerseys making it hard to tell the players apart, the whole team blending together into a mash of blues and gold's, Nesta finds she can pick Cassian out fairly easily. She tells herself it's because he's clearly the biggest guy on the team and the hair sticking out the back of his helmet is a dead giveaway. But either way, her eyes always seem to find him any time he's on the ice, whether he’s sweeping along the blue line to make a play or throwing his body against the other team.

They’re into the third period when Nesta watches Cassian jump over the boards, joining the rush before falling back into the neutral zone as the other team gains possession. He guards his man well as the play shifts to their defensive zone, the other player trying and failing to shake Cassian loose. The player tries to deke around him, but Cassian is quicker, their sticks clashing together.

It's like it all unfolds in slow motion. The puck popping up into the air between them. The other player raising his stick like he plans to bat the puck down. The stick colliding with Cassian's head.

There's a collective gasp from the crowd watching the game as Cassian crumbles to the ice, falling onto all fours. And then there's red. A few drops at first, but soon it's a steady stream. It seeps into the ice, spreading out around Cassian like a crimson puddle.

"Oh my gods," Feyre whispers.

"I hope he's alright," Elain chimes in.

Nesta knows that her sisters keep speaking, but all she can hear is a ringing in her ears, like a high pitched screaming sinking its claws into her mind. Her hands fist into the blanket in her lap, and she watches with wide eyes as a trainer walks onto the ice, pulling the cage of Cassian's helmet up and sliding a towel under. With the help of two teammates, Cassian's on his feet and skates back to the bench. Nesta's stomach roils as one of the rink staffers and the referees scrape Cassian's blood from the ice, and even when the game resumes, she can't take her eyes off Cassian slumped over his knees on the bench.

~ * * * ~

Cassian can't help but poke at the bandage on his forehead as he checks himself in the locker room mirror. It's still tender, and he winces at the pain that radiates from that spot. Definitely going to leave a scar. At least he got a goal tonight. Small victories. With a sigh, he shoulders his bag, grabbing his sticks by the door and heading for the rink exit.

When he steps into the lobby, he finds Nesta standing there. Cassian knew that both her sisters were here earlier, but a quick sweep of his eyes around the room shows them nowhere to be found. When his eyes dance back to Nesta, she's already looking at him, something intense brewing in her eyes like storm clouds rolling in. It leaves Cassian captivated, and in a few strides, He’s standing in front of her, dropping his bag at their feet.

"What are you still doing here, sweetheart?"

Cassian throws as much cheek as he can into the question, letting that cocky grin he knows gets under her skin slide across his face. He expects Nesta to scowl, to make some snide remark back, to pick up their game right where they left off, but Nesta's face remains serious. He watches in confusion as she crosses and then uncrosses her arms across her chest, takes a deep breath like she's steeling herself.

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Nesta explains, her eyes glancing up to the bandage before settling back on his own.

"Oh," Cassian says dumbly, blinking down at Nesta a few times before his brain finally catches up. "It was just bad luck. Stick hit just right for one of the screws in my helmet to go right into my head."

"It looked… bad."

"Well, head wounds bleed a lot."

Nesta nods and silence falls like a blanket between them. Cassian's brain kicks into overdrive, suddenly desperate to keep whatever this precarious moment is going, keep her talking to him, keep those eyes on his. It sparks in his chest like a piece of flint, fire burning under his skin. He's so busy floundering, trying to will his head and mouth to produce actual words, that he almost misses the frown that takes over Nesta's face, her eyes caught on his hand.

"You're not thinking of driving, are you?"

The sudden question takes Cassian by surprise, and Cassian’s brow furrows in confusion until he remembers his car keys are in his hand.

"How else would I get home?"

"You can't drive with a concussion."

"What makes you think I have a concussion?"

"How could you not have a concussion?"

"If I had a concussion, why would I have gone back out on the ice to finish the game?"

"Because you're an idiot."

Before Cassian can even splutter out a protest at the insult, Nesta is reaching forward and snatching the keys out of his hand. Then, for good measure, she reaches out and takes his sticks out of his hand too.

"There's an Urgent Care like five miles away that should still be open."

With that and a final, firm nod, as if she's decidedly made up her mind and Cassian can't change it, Nesta turns on her heel and makes for the doors. Cassian is left there gaping, blinking dumbly after her retreating form, while his sluggish brain tries to grasp what exactly is happening. Maybe he is concussed. Not giving himself another second to contemplate, Cassian scrambles to pick up his bag, tossing the strap over his shoulder as he hurries after Nesta.

"Can I at least buy you dinner after?"

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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fatui-gf · 3 years

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I just found your blog and I'm crying because yes! Sub genshin blog 😌👌🏼 if your request is open, can I request teasing Zhongli with his gnosis, like using it like toys, I mean imagining Zhongli crying and begging is my guilty pleasure

First of all, I’m so sorry for how late I am to answer to this request :((( A lot of things I didn’t expect happened and I wasn’t very able to start writing. I hope you’re not mad at me being so late, the request was a lot of fun and something I’ve had in mind for quite a while now actually.

sub!zhongli x dom!reader - fun with the gnosis

word count: 1352

warnings: slight (very small) degradation, obviously using the gnosis as a sex toy

You watched in captivation as Zhongli’s usually stoic face turned bright red with his golden eyes so beautifully clouded by a mixture of lust and anticipation. He swallowed as he basically undressed you with his sight, filthy thoughts filling his mind, your hand gripping hard on his tie, forcing him to lean closer to your height.

The sun rays sleepily creeped through the window, perfectly highlighting the beauty of the man in front of you. From his dark hair tied in a low ponytail, resting on his shoulder practically begging to be tugged at to his elegant clothes which were about to be reduced just to laying on the ground somewhere, he was a dream come true. And the fact you had the geo archon wrapped around your finger, holding him like on a leash, reduced to being nothing more but human with very human feelings, exactly like the heat growing in his head, heart as well as pants.

- What are you doing? - was all he managed to whisper, his tone soft like silk.

You couldn’t help but smirk at how you made him feel, how you made him react and submit to you fully. It was hard not to be incredibly proud of the power you had in that moment.

- Give me your gnosis - you stated as you watched Zhongli’s expression change, now more confused.

- I’m not sure I understand why you would need it, besides I-... - his words got cut off as you pulled harder on his tie, his body jerking at the sudden force.

After drifting away his sight for a while, the geo archon just sighed, placing the gnosis in your hand, hoping you would eventually return it and not lose it or gods know what else you could do with it. It’s not like you were strangers, not like he couldn’t trust you but the thought of breaking a contract with La Signora by not providing the gnosis definitely would make him far away from happy.

- Good boy - you whispered as he turned away his eyes from you once again in an attempt to hide how good those words made him feel. Please, make sure to refer to him as that more often.

You then took a lead, taking the man on a way to his bedroom, still holding him by his tie as he just obeyed and followed in silence, just lost in the fantasies that kept growing in his brain. It was almost unusual to get him to this point of arousal where he would even give away his gnosis, practically dizzy with all the thoughts.

Lightly pushing him onto the bed, making him sit there, all he could do was stare, hungrily watching you as you revealed your new lingerie. Oh, how much did he desire to touch you, to pull you closer, to have you all for himself, pamper you with all the kisses on each part of your body, happily becoming the one who could please you in any way you would ask him to.

It certainly wasn’t fair for you to be the only one missing the excess clothes so your next move was to obviously get rid of them, making sure to tease his body with your hands as you went about it. Sliding your colder hands against his hot skin, watching him twitch under your touch, staring down at you with his hand over his mouth trying to muffle the sinful gasps that he would produce.

The best idea was to also limit his moves before you could get to the real thing, reaching for a rope, wrapping it gently around his limbs and skillfully tying it in an intricate design on his chest. It was hard to take eyes off of him at that moment, completely defenseless, unable to move properly, his lips shaking in anticipation, not knowing what would happen to him next.

Your gentle fingers trailing his body, gracefully making your way down. The lower your hands travelled, the more his impatience grew. You could hear a soft gasp coming out of his mouth as his cold gnosis met his thigh, trailing it in circles, teasing him until all he could do was look into your eyes pleadingly like a puppy, begging you with his sight.

As the gnosis slipped inside of him the sudden moan echoed in the room. You leaned your face closer to his, whispering praise into his ear, making him shiver just to then leave kisses on his neck as your hand moved the gnosis. His legs shaking as the pleasure hit him again and again, not even trying to hide the whimpers at this point, he has exposed all of himself to you in that moment.

- Isn’t it funny to see the divine geo archon thrusting his hips down on his own gnosis? What would all of the Liyue think of you if they saw you like that? You really are one hell of a bitch, Zhongli - the words of degradation only turned him on more, he really was one huge bitch for you, letting you play with him like that.

His neck was now decorated with purple hickeys all over it, his mouth open as he desperately breathed for air between needy moans and cries.

- The window is open, all of the city can hear you gasp and whimper. All because of me.

Zhongli just shut his eyes tight, not giving a single care about anyone listening in on him, his mind was only clouded with the desperate need of release. He couldn’t lead you on with his hands because of being tied so he had to resort to using his words to beg you to touch him more, to feel his body.

- P-please, I want to be touched more - he gasped, his voice as needy as ever.

You placed your hand on him, your finger touching against the sticky tip of his dick which was met with a hiss of pleasure on his side. His hips were practically moving on his own, both thrusting down onto his gnosis as hell as into your hand. It was so entertaining to see him helpless like this, like a bitch in heat, just doing his best to reach the sweet point of release.

You could hear him moan even louder as the sticky liquid dripped down your hand, making its way down your fingers. Zhongli was almost breathless, trying his best to compose himself before he was caught in another kiss, fighting the urge to just put his hands all over you, feel every curve of your body, leave no area untouched.

He looked so pretty as you pulled away, his red eyeliner smudged after tearing up from the pleasure, his cheeks flushed, mouth open, his golden eyes half-lidded, few strands of his hair stuck to his sweaty body. You weren’t done with him yet though, you wanted to see him whimper for you more and more.

Instead of removing the gnosis from his ass, you pushed it even further receiving another moan in return. He just came mere moments ago, his whole body was even more sensitive than it usually was you decided to take advantage of this fact, using the gnosis like a sex toy, the thing he was once so proud of, the proof of his position as the geo archon, now getting pleasured with it was probably the filthiest thing an archon could do or allow to happen. The shame didn’t even register in his brain, he was too lost in his lust, the need to cum again, to get pushed over the edge by you again.

His moans never got quieter, instead they got louder, needier and breathier with each push. You caressed his face and as you put your thumb in his mouth, he made sure to suck on it like a good slut. At this point you knew exactly he was the right one. Your moves become faster and harsher, driving him to his release once again, not being able to focus on sucking your finger anymore, he was a wreck. The most beautiful wreck.

#genshin impact #zhongli #genshin impact x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #sub!zhongli #imagine #fanfiction #scenario #dom!reader

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anywherebuthere · 3 years

Text

I had a dream about you last night || j.p.

James Potter x fem!reader

“Even when you’re gone, you are all that haunts my dreams.”

Wordcount: 1969

A/N: Happy (belated) birthday to the only man ever <33 I am illiterate, so I had a mental breakdown writing this <3 please enjoy!! special thanks to @anchoeritic and @gxtitobxby for supporting me via discord and for making fun of the time I got hit by a car :)) @skullsontess07 I finally posted it pls don’t hurt me <33

Warnings: alcohol, allusions to sex, death, bad writing, especially towards the end. barely proofread because I don’t believe in mistakes <3 /j

Please do not repost this!! I do not consent to this piece of fiction being published on any other site besides tumblr unless it by my doing.

The ticking of the grandfather clock thrummed in James’ ears as he tipped back the empty bottle, the smell of whiskey heavy in the air. He leaned his head against the cold surface of the white plaster wall, scanning the textured ceiling with misty eyes. His home, still half furnished, was riddled with traces of something better forgotten. Even with the weight of alcohol on his breath, his mind is running with memories and daydreams of her.

He closed his eyes, forcing the imagery away. In the distance, a train chugged on, its lone whistle echoing in the night, and James can’t help but be pulled into an uneasy slumber, memories still flashing through his mind like a broken film.

“Prongs, you git! We’re going to miss the train if you don’t hurry your fat arse.” Remus shouted, frustration seeping into his humoured voice.

“Relax Moony, we’ll be fine,” he replied, breath heaving slightly from sprinting across Platform 9¾, just narrowly having avoided knocking over an elderly witch.

As the four boys approached the entrance of the cart, the train’s departing whistle blared. They boarded quickly, though not without receiving a glare from a crew member.

Hurrying down the corridor, the boys glanced through every compartment window, though each appeared to be full of giggling sixth years. That is, with the exception of one.

Near the back end of the Hogwarts Express, was, at last, an empty compartment save for a singular figure slumped against the window. With no other choice of seating, the gaggle of boys slipped in silently, Sirius and Remus snagging the seats opposite to the slumbering girl, their pinkies linked as they whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves.

Peter, as adverse to the female race as ever, took the seat closest to the door, leaving James to be wedged between the mousy blonde and the stranger, careful not to bump her with his broad shoulders.

The train ride was filled with hushed whispers as the marauders discussed this year's prank for the welcoming feast, a customary tradition they held sacred, as to “start the year right.”

As they began going over the mechanisms of their plan, they felt the train begin to swerve as it approached a sharp turn. The compartment shook slightly and James suddenly felt a weight on his right side.

He stiffened, glancing over to see that the girl’s head had lulled over from the compartment wall and onto his shoulder. James recognized her as a student in their year. Y/N, who had tutored Regulus the same day that James had helped Sirius prank him as petty revenge for a now long-forgotten argument.

And well, perhaps James had wanted her to notice him for once. If so, it had been a successful endeavour as he remembered the way her face had contorted in anger, though her attention had remained just as elusive for the remainder of their fifth year. So… perhaps not so successful.

He flushed at the memory. She was now even prettier than the year prior.

“Oh? Is that a blush we see, Moony?” Sirius taunted, nudging Remus with his elbow as he snickered at James’ scowl.

“Bloody hell, piss off, will you? You’ll wake her–”

He felt her suddenly stir beside him, brows creasing as though on the cusp of consciousness.

James held his breath.

The moment passed as Y/N nudged her face further into the crook of his neck before settling back into a peaceful slumber.

Perhaps he wouldn’t need the prank to start the year right this time around.

It seemed that sixth year would be a good one for James.

In the early morning of a mid-March day, an unlikely scene unfolded between the shelves of Hogwarts’ library. There he sat beside a bleary Y/N, voice still drowsy with sleep as she read aloud a passage from the Herbology textbook perched between them.

Initially, James had detested the thought of having to wake up at such an ungodly hour for the sake of a project. No other time had fit, not with his Quidditch practices and her absurd number of tutoring sessions.

Though now, as the early rays of sunrise filtered through the library’s mullioned windows onto her skin, James thinks that there is nowhere else he would rather be.

He thinks this moment will be ingrained in his mind forever.

“–once a century, the Flutterby bush produces flowers able to attract the unwary.” she paused to yawn, eyebags evident as she turned to meet James’ gaze. She scrunched her nose and he swore he swooned at the very sight. “Are you even listening to me, Potter?”

“I’m always listening to you,” he replied, tilting his head. She grins in response and he notices just how beautiful it is.

She shifted her gaze back to the textbook lying in their laps, picking up where she had left off.

“Its scent adapts–”

James leaned forward suddenly, capturing her lips in his. The book fell closed between them.

Immediately, almost though by instinct, Y/N reciprocates, moving her lips gently against his as her hand cups his cheek. James finds himself gripping that hand as his other wraps around her waist, finding the small of her back and pulling her impossibly close against him.

She tasted of cherry chapstick and peppermint bubblegum, and though there was nothing particularly special about those flavours, on her, James swears that he could drown in his intoxication alone. Her perfume wafts through the air, the scent causing him to groan against her mouth.

When they separated at last, his head was swimming in euphoria, his expression dazed. Y/N blinked up at him, sleep wiped entirely from her expression.

“Its scent adapts itself during these times to attract said unwary.” she finishes, sounding breathless still, voice trailing off as James began to laugh hysterically.

She rolled her eyes, smiling sheepishly.

When James still couldn’t stop laughing, Y/N gripped his haphazardly tied red and gold tie, using it to pull his soft lips against hers once more and he was sure in his mind that there would no one else for him.

Beneath a great oak tree in the courtyard lay two figures. Under the tree’s twisting branches, they hid in its cool shade from the sweltering afternoon sun. Few places aside from the castle offered shelter from June’s blistering heat and as the semester approached its end, they finally allowed themselves to rest in the gentle breeze.

James was leaning against the thick trunk while Y/N’s head lay in his lap. His elbow was resting on her abdomen as she drew on his hand, doodling intricate flower designs alongside some… less desirable things.

He felt his heart swell with joy as her laughter filled the summer air and before he could catch himself, he blurted out the thought that had been weighing in the back of his mind since they had started dating.

“Do you ever think about your future?"

He felt the scratch of her muggle pen slow, as though pausing in thought.

"I want to grow old and die surrounded with people I love, knowing I lived a long and fulfilling life. You know, typical boring stuff," she replied after a moment's consideration. Her eyes twinkled with more, though Y/N never indulged in half-thought-out plans.

"What about you?" she questioned with the tip of her head. James didn’t need time to think about it. He had known his answer since that fateful September morning when she had slept on his shoulder throughout the entirety of the train ride.

"I don't care what my future is as long as you're there" he answers truthfully.

Y/N flushed, her ears heated. She looked away, the corners of her lips turning up in the barest hint of a smile.

James freed his hand from her loose grasp, hooking her chin to look back towards him before leaning in to kiss her.

Even after all these months, he relished in the taste of her lips. He doubts he’ll ever be able to get enough of the feeling.

He doubts he’ll ever be able to get enough of her.

The sun was setting in the west on a quiet evening, its golden rays shining on the slick skin of two lovers as they untangled themselves from the sheets, unable to hold in their laughter when one got his foot stuck in the knot of their crochet blanket.

The air hung heavy with the scent of sweat and endorphins as Y/N laid back, her body still bare, not bothering to cover it.

James propped his elbow beside her head, careful not to press on her spread-out hair, his face filled with ecstasy and pure bliss.

He will never get used to the sight of her in his bed, giggling as the sun reflected off her silky skin. The image of her underneath him is cemented in his mind, permanently lodged there as solid as concrete. He knows now with absolute certainty that there would be no one else for him.

James’ smile widened further as he nudged his nose into the crook of her neck, leaning in to place a kiss there when his vision blurred.

It was no longer sunset. Rather, the two of them were now enveloped in the dark of night and James is certain he hears the echo of a familiar spell ring off in the distance.

He pulls away from Y/N’s neck.

She was no longer shaking with laughter, but rather, writhing in pain. There were lacerations all across her torso and James felt something sticky underneath his hands.

They were laying in a pool of her blood.

Panic clawed at his throat and though he had never been averse to the sight of blood, yours was an exception. The taste of bile clung to his tongue.

“No... No no no no no,” he whispered in disbelief. Swivelling his head, outside the window, he spots a cloaked figure wearing a mask of silver disapparate.

“No!”

Grasping for the wand strapped to his side, he murmurs a healing spell, gasping for breath when the wounds remain open. His head was spiralling as Y/N shook her head almost imperceptibly, grabbing at his wrist with a shaking hand.

Carved into her arm was the word “MUDBLOOD” and James felt his vision turn red, suddenly hyper-aware of the blood pumping through his veins.

“James…” she rasped. He gripped her shaking hand.

“Why isn’t it working? Why?” he cried, tears streaming down his face, struggling to breathe.

“Whatever our souls are made of,” she gasped, blood spurting out of her mouth. Her beautiful mouth, the one that tasted of cherries and peppermint, was covered in thick, crimson blood. “you and I are connected.”

“No! Stop with this rubbish, you’re not going to die!” he sobbed, gripping her bloodied hand like a vice. She continued as though he hadn’t even spoken.

Perhaps she was too far gone to hear him.

“Wh-whatever is beyond this life,” violent ruby coated her mouth as she coughed, blood splattering onto her smooth skin. “Promise me, y-you’ll find me again.”

“I promise,” he cried, sobs racking through his body.

But she was already gone.

James woke with a start, gasping for breath with the taste of blood and “promise” still coating his tongue. He was alone in a house built for two.

In his fitful sleep, he had knocked over the empty bottle of whiskey beside him.

She had hated whiskey.

Had.

A fresh wave of misery washed over James, adding to the dull pain that never seemed to go away, throbbing through him as naturally as the blood in his veins. It wasn’t enough that she existed still within every corner of their shared home.

Even in his dreams, he is haunted by her memory.

ㄧ

@catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #james potter fluff #harry potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter x reader angst #james potter x reader fluff #james potter x muggleborn #james potter x muggleborn reader #caz's top notch fic recs

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chipper-smol · 3 years

Text

Actor AU

because those are fun. This is just one long masterpost of fun behind the scenes action for the hollow knight game.

Actors who are most like their characters: Grimm, Ogrim, Lemm, God Tamer, Breta Actors who aren’t like their characters: Zote, Monomon, PK, Hollow

Lurien bullies his character. Actually asks out PK because “Why not?”

Grimm isn’t acting. Grimm is just being Grimm.

Zote is actually a sweetheart old man. Everyone is astounded by his level of acting because they all hate his character so goddamn much.

Sheo, Oro and Mato made a video of all of them together because people thought that they were just one actor. In this video they’re like “I’m the best brother” “No thats me” “No you’re wrong, its me.”

White Lady isn’t that big she’s actually quite small and her body is just a massive prop.

Quirrel wanders randomly onto scenes. Production had to hire a Quirrel spotter in the second season in case they missed him during recording to look through the pre-production scenes to edit him out. The first season he photobombed six scenes without anyone catching him before the episodes aired.

PK is a goofball. PK tests how much he can get away with before the producers get his ass.

Herrah is the rich actress™ who is too good to be here.

Monomon’s tentacles are just props. She loves slapping people with them.

“Why are they so wet!?” “Because it makes a better sound when I hit you- listen!” thWAP

Oro forgets his choreography

so you’ve heard of dad Grimm but you have’nt heard of actor au dad Grimm. Take that dad and turn it up to 11. After the scene where Ghost recieves the Grimmchild and they cut Grimm is like

“Oh my stars! You were amazing!! Such talent! You are a natural my little bean!”

Grimmchild was just flying.

Ghost is 4.

Coffee break! everyone chilling in costume in the break room just chatting.

Quirrel breaks the most props accidentally. He somehow broke half of his mask off. The fandom found pictures of it and created a spin-off series. He also tripped and broke Monomon’s mask.

Originally, Hornet wasn’t planned to be on set, but after the director saw her and Ghost fighting they asked if she wanted to have a role because they’d been struggling to get Ghost to act genuinely aggressive.

PK trips a lot

Radiance is pissed at her role because its mostly voice acting and even that is just screaming into a mic.

Hollow broke into the prop cage one night and drew mouths on all of the masks. But actually it was Radiance but no one suspects her and Hollow is so bad under distress that even when they’re telling the truth they sounded like they were lying.

Even though he had a short role, Hive knight was super pumped to be on set.

The hivelings are just puppets

Ghost was in a jar being carried by the collector between sets as a fun joke and someone took a picture and captioned it “personal chauffeur.”

Bloopers where actors snuck into the jars before shooting so when they fell from the ceiling you’d get unusual spawns like Tiso and PK.

There was a coffee cup in one of the jars for the entire scene and they had to reshoot it all.

It was Quirrel’s cup.

Godseeker is the legit worst person to act with. No one likes working with them. They called Ghost a cringer and Ghost barely got through the scene before cracking up with laughter. Godseeker was the only one unamused.

#BehindTheKnight #G muses #hollowknight #hollow knight #im not tagging all of these characters

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

A Shot In The Dark

Batfamily x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: I'm going to start the flow of Ghost-Maker fanfiction onto this site, watch me. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

The butler cleared his throat. “Master Bruce, Ghost Maker is here.” A grunt signaled his response. “I shall take my leave.”

“I forgot you still had the butler hanging around.”

Bruce didn’t look over from the screen as the vigilante stepped into his peripheral. “Are you here about Kolkata?”

“Spice has been entering the U.S. through the black market.” He looked over. “It’s in Gotham.”

“I know. I tracked a shipment in on one of Penguin’s cargo ships.” Bruce shot him a grin that practically bled, ‘I just one-upped you’. “The same one you tagged after me.” He knew Ghost-Maker wasn’t going to take the bait, easy as it was, but still, the way the man’s jaw set told Bruce just how ticked it made him.

“The only way to stop it from getting in is to head over and stop it.”

Bruce shook his head, tapping at the screen. “Interpol can shut down the operations in India. I just want it stopped in Gotham.”

Ghost-Maker sighed. “Why do you always have to take the easy way out of things? What’s stopping you from going?”

“Tim’s got a presentation at Wayne Enterprises tomorrow, Cass has a dance recital, and Damian has a debate team championship.” He glanced at him. “I promised I wouldn’t miss them.”

“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?” he asked and the other nodded.

“Like clockwork.” He pointed to a drawer. “Hand me the instrument from the bottom drawer.

Ghost-Maker bent over and pulled open the drawer; a small carved flute rested inside, and he picked it up, examining the instrument. It was made of carved onyx, slashes of tiger-eye and jade up the sides; holes were drilled into it in a fashion telling him it would produce music if he blew into the piece at the top.

He handed it over. “Why do you have a flute in your drawer? And why do you need it?”

Bruce didn’t respond, merely bringing the instrument to his lips; he blew softly, an almost mournful sounding tone. Setting the piece down, he waited, and to Ghost-Maker’s surprise—which didn’t happen often—a cloud of black smoke began to swirl beside them. Faster and faster, it spun until it suddenly dispersed and in its wake was a woman—a rather bare woman…in a rather exposed position, her arms stretched out above her head, and one of her legs up in the air like it had been resting on someone’s shoulder and the other leg like it had been around their hip.

She let her legs fall, almost gracefully, and she heaved an incredibly annoyed sigh. “One of these days, Bruce Wayne, I will refuse your summons.”

“Well, it wasn’t today,” he quipped, spinning in his chair to look at her. “Were you in the middle of something?” his tone denoted that he knew she was, he was just being a sarcastic ass about it.

“I was.” She griped, then let her head loll back on the floor. “In the middle of silky sheets with all those fine bedfellows and now here I am on a cold, hard cave floor with no one to drive me into sexual-oblivion.” She stuck one perfectly nailed hand in the air. “Ahem.”

Bruce rose from his seat and took her hand, pulling her up and into his arms. “However, can I make it up to you, (Y/N)?”

Cocking an elegant eyebrow, she murmured, “You do not have enough resources to make up the good time you just pulled me out of.” Pushing out of his arms, she bypassed Ghost-Maker like he wasn’t standing there stunned out of his mind about what just happened.

“Is my wine still down here?” she asked, already bending down to rummage through the drawer. “Hmm, I see I answered my own question,” (Y/N) remarked, pulling out a bottle of wine so old, vintage didn’t seem to describe it. Popping the top, she took a sip and snapped her fingers, a silky black robe instantly clothing her naked body.

Leaning on the desk, she crossed one of her smooth legs over the other, idly swishing her foot. “So, why do you need me?”

Bruce nodded at the screen. “Do you know about the spice shipments in Gotham?”

(Y/N) hummed. “The shipments of spice that Penguin’s buying from black market deals that are originating out of Kolkata? Those spice shipments?” she shrugged. “I might know something. Why?”

“We’re trying to stop Penguin from getting it into Gotham.” Ghost-Maker interrupted before Bruce could say anything and she gazed at him.

“And you are?”

“Ghost-Maker.”

“Hmm.” She said, though she sounded disinterested. “Come here.”

“Why?” he questioned, though he obeyed and before he could even react, she reached up and touched his jaw. In a flash he saw every memory of his life in his mind, and she pulled away, tone curious.

“Oh? So, you are the one Bruce thinks about. The hedonistic anti-hero that copes with his psychopathy by challenging himself to fix the world.” A smirk tugged her lips. “Interesting.” Her eyes found Bruce’s. “Why is your ex-boyfriend in Gotham? I thought you did not want him anywhere near here? From both of your memories, you are both antagonistic to the idea of working in each other’s locations.”

“You just read my memories?” Ghost-Maker inquired, reaching up to touch his face. “How?”

“Telepathy, amongst many other dark things that would make even a person like you quake in fear.” (Y/N) glanced at Bruce again. “Answer the question.”

“He’s not my ex-boyfriend.”

“Wrong question and even more wrong answer.” She shot him a knowing look, one he matched with a firm look of his own and she waved a hand. “Fine, I will relent for now. What do you need to know about Penguin’s shipments?”

Bruce hit another button on the computer and a picture of a manila file came up. “It’s locked in his personal office surrounded by turrets and armed thugs.”

(Y/N)’s lips pulled pathetically, and she whimpered pitifully, “Aw, can the two of you not get into the office with your powers combined? So sad.” She raised a hand and touched the tips of her pointer and thumb to one another, then she lifted it to her mouth. She blew a single, sharp ear-splitting whistle and both Bruce and Ghost-Maker heard ringing in their ears as a dark smoke began to pool from the edge of the cave, the type that sent shivers up someone’s spine.

A low growl sounded from the smoke and out of the vapor stepped a dark hound, black as midnight, with glowing red eyes and rows of razor-sharp teeth. (Y/N) clicked her tongue and it bounded to her. She reached down and caressed its head, speaking in a language that neither Bruce nor Ghost-Maker understood.

She stood back up and pointed to the screen, uttering one more word, cold and firm. “Hunt.”

The hound barked but it still sounded like a growl, and it turned, sprinting towards the wall; it collided with it in a hail of smoke, and (Y/N) looked at Bruce. “Cù-sìth will get what we require.”

“I haven’t seen your hell-hound in a long while, (Y/N).” Bruce noted and she scowled.

“Death hounds. Cù-sìth and Garmr are death hounds.”

“And where is Garmr now?”

She frowned, looking away from him. “He is…recovering from a sustained injury.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

(Y/N) sighed and shook her head. “I appreciate your sympathy and trying but injuries that death hounds receive can only be healed by darker magic.” Her fingers swirled with her sorcery.

“Is that why you’ve been in hiding for a few months now?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I have devoted most of my time to healing his injuries.”

Bruce took her hand, gently but firmly. “(Y/N), is there anything you need from me?”

She met his gaze, holding it for a moment before sighing again. “Do you think you could find nightshade and belladonna extract for me?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded, then he nudged her in the ribs with a grin. “You’re not planning on poisoning anyone, are you?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Maybe just a bit. You know, not enough to kill them but just enough to drop them out of a city government meeting where an especially important vote is being decided.” She winked. “Care to wonder who it is?”

Bruce grunted, pulling from her. “I already know who it is.” He took a seat at the computer, and she leaned against the desk, her thigh brushing the arm rest. “You’re not allowed to poison people.”

She let out a humored breath through her nose and reached out, gently carding her fingers through his short dark hair. “Joy-killer.” (Y/N) took a moment to gaze at him, then she shifted, tracing the dark circles under his eyes. “When is the last time you rested?”

“A few hours ago.”

Frowning, she corrected, “I meant when was the last time you actually had a restful sleep?” he opened his mouth, but she was quicker. “You are not getting younger, Bruce.”

“I’m fine.” He grunted and she rolled her eyes.

“You are so stubborn.” (Y/N) glanced at Ghost-Maker. “Do you get decent sleep?”

“Of course,” he retorted. “Only Bruce thinks sleep is for the weak.”

“It is.”

(Y/N) looked back at Bruce. “That’s because you are a stubborn ass.”

Before he could respond, a growling caught their attention and they all turned to the entrance of the cave, seeing Cù-sìth coming towards them, the manila folder in his teeth. She plucked it from his mouth and flipped it open, scanning the contents; when Bruce reached for it, she jerked it away and clicked her tongue.

“Oh no. Only those who have maintained a correct sleep schedule are allowed to read this.”

Bruce glared at her. “Give me the file.”

“No.”

He started rising from his seat. “Give. Me. The. File. (Y/N).”

“I think you are forgetting that I am not one of your little minions, Bruce.” (Y/N) snapped her fingers and he sunk back into his seat, compelled by her magic. “You do not tell me what to do. Ever.” She looked at Ghost-Maker. “Come with me to the docks and we will take care of this.” Then she met Bruce’s gaze again. “When I snap my fingers again you will go up to your room and sleep for a few hours.”

“(Y/N),” he warned. “No killing.”

“I will do as I wish,” she offered nonchalantly, handing Ghost-Maker the file. “You know I have never adhered to your rules.”

Bruce’s glare darkened. “I know.”

“You know as well as I that you get rude when you are tired. Sleep now. Let us take care of this.” (Y/N) held out her hand. “K, take my hand.”

“How do you—”

She ignored the vigilante’s shocked question, taking his hand and the world twisted and turned around them until the smoke cleared and they were outside the gates of the dock. “You will want to take your mask off.”

“I’m not taking my mask off,” he retorted, and she shrugged.

“Then you will be sick in your mask.”

He stared at her, then he spun around, undoing the clasps of his mask, barely getting it off his face before he was vomiting into the grass.

(Y/N) merely watched. “I told you. Magical teleportation always wreaks havoc on the stomach the first time.”

“What—what are you?” he asked, then went back to puking.

When he went down on one knee, she leaned over and steadied him. “Older than what your mind can comprehend.” (Y/N) reached down and placed a hand on his forehead, then he stopped retching and coughed a few times. “There. Your digestive system should relax now.”

He didn’t necessarily shove her away, but it was obvious he didn’t want her seeing him because he pulled from her touch and wiped his mouth, quickly pulling his mask back on. “Don’t ever do that again.” He warned and she snorted.

“What? Heal you or teleport you right to the location of your target?”

With his mask back on he glared at her, light blue slits glowing brightly. “Call me K.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, you and Bruce are so much alike.” (Y/N) hauled him to his feet by his sword scabbards and let him go, starting towards the opening of the gate. “This will be a rather enjoyable night.”

“You need adequate protection.” He said. “You’re going to get killed without anything on.”

(Y/N) tossed a smirk over her shoulder. “My, my, Ghost, are you worried about me?”

“I don’t feel empathy,” Ghost-Maker said, hurrying to walk beside her.

“That is not completely true. At least through the memories I have seen.” (Y/N) looked over at him. “You are empathetic to Bruce. It is not like my empathy to him, but on some level, you do care.” She smiled. “Nothing is completely void of some form of empathy.”

She looked over at the dock, scrutinizing the cargo ship. “There are armed guards along the pier. A frontal assault will get us caught…no airstrikes…” she hummed, then brought a hand to her chest. “I have an idea.

“Care to share?” he asked, looking over at her, and to his surprise, she transformed before his eyes, taking on the shape of one of the thugs on the ship. “Huh. That’s impressive.”

“Thank you.” She said, though her voice was much deeper, like a mans and she stood up. “I will infiltrate the ship from the front. I trust you can go through the back?”

He pulled out his swords and (Y/N) swore she could practically see the smile growing on his lips as he said, “Absolutely.”

“Then be swift.”

***

A few hours later they appeared in the cave, and she sighed, gazing at the man collapsed at the desk. “I forgot how easily he deflected magic. Even mine.” Shrugging, she left the file beside him, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “At least he is sleeping though.”

Pulling away, she looked at Ghost-Maker. “You did well this evening. Your training is almost superior to Bruce’s.”

“It is superior to Bruce’s.” he griped and she tsked at him.

“Well, from what I have seen in your memories, I am afraid you have not much proven superiority to him. Equality, yes, but not superiority.” (Y/N) hummed and smiled at him. “I hope you and I can do missions together again, Ghost. It was rather enjoyable to have a talking partner. Bruce does not like to talk unless he has to.”

As she started walking towards the stairs, he followed her. “Can I ask you something?”

“You may.”

“Where do you live?”

(Y/N) eyed him. “Why do you wish to know?”

“Your meditation techniques appear similar to mine.” He smiled at her. “I was thinking you and I could meditate sometime.”

She paused and looked him over, a hand on her hip. “You want to sleep with me? Really?”

“You already told me what I am. A hedonistic crime-fighter.”

“Technically I said antihero, but I digress.” (Y/N) stepped up to him, staring into the glowing blue slits. “But I saw your abilities…they could be…intriguing.”

“I can show you now, if you’d like?” Ghost-Maker tipped his head to the entrance of the study. “There’s enough rooms for us to disappear into.”

(Y/N) chuckled and shook her head, walking ahead of him. “Bruce would not be happy about that.” She reached the top step and turned back, grinning at him. “But worry not, Ghost. When I am ready to see you, I will find you.”

“I look forward to it.”

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papers4me · 3 years

Text

Fruits Basket Manga Review , ch 111

sigh~~~ I feel that my recent posts are a bit negative towards the anime, but thats cuz the chapters I’ve read so far are either unbelievably important character depth content cut for no valid reason or content in the anime but packed with million other things that it lost its purpose or importance. Basically tohu’s ep 6 which consists of 4 chapters & now ep 5 which is a momiji ep & yup, packed with 4 chapters as well... so, I apologize for any negativity, my intention is just analyzing artistic & story-telling aspects, I love se03, but yeah it screwed up lots of important characters due to its not so thorough plot decisions & harmful character insight choices.

today.. we explore Momiji... but only before his curse breaks.

Furuba anime struggling to know how to design an episode based on various plot-heavy chapters?

so, they decided 13 eps, & decided one ep for momiji cuz motoko’s graduation & the fanclub is the core of the furuba & have already cut tons of tohru, cuz who cares? she’s kind. be like her. end of lesson. No. really, jokes aside, how to do this?

How to combine several chapters in one ep? collect small snippets from chosen chapters/content like a bee does flowers? you gotta skip some content, you gotta highlight others. The ep is only 20 min after all & you got an op & Ed that you cant always skip.... so.. furuba team decide that momoji’s ep should be true to his zodiac animal, this is the rabbits last appearance in spirit. so, they went with quick hopping from one chapter to the other like a rabbit?

No really, ep 5 is really like a rabbit in its flow, you can’t savior a moment enough before jumping to the other: we learned momiji grew up!! loves toheu romantically, challenged kyo, really meant it, wanted a fair love game, got freed, lost tohru romantically & faced momiji! but that’s not all? we still have space!! quick add akito’s moodiness & love triangle with her dog & her submissive bed partner, add a happy comedy for no reason whatever & make shigue kiss tohru & wish shes 'was his lover instead!!!!!!!!! Mind you all this happened in the anime before shigure hurt tohru with his “the truth of the zodiacs talk & them accepting & feeling consolance that kyo is doomed”talk.

-Gets whats my biggest surprise after reading this chapter ?????????

Shigure is consistent!! He isnt a rabbit hopping here & there. The dog is loyal & is tired for good reason! Him being depressed & his weird talk with thoru makes so much sense given the manga’s order.

Kyo is consistent!! In the anime, momiji surprise him with confession he loves tohru & challenge him, then kyo la~la~la~joins them downstairs for curry. Not a single expression on his face, where is the expression? it will appear when the plot is forced to address it: by the end of the ep when momiji face hin again. Then we get kyo’s reaction.

I need someone to tell the anime that actions require a reaction. You can refrain from showing a certain reaction if you can’t address it now, but you can’t erase it, negate it, then make it appear when have to!!!! couldn’t they make kyo refuse to join them & eat together? the other characters wont be surprised they think he’s needlessly moody. The audience will know that kyo is troubled with momiji’s challenged & it will excite them!!! having kyo just go eat & watch the momiji/hiro/haru/yuki comedy skit is weird.

The manga’s author wanted kyo to join the dinner, like the anime did. but huge difference. the author actually cares for logic reaction & understands that the audience aren’t dumb little kids that will sit & wait for kyo’s turn to...react! nope! she did this: (a) & (b) below.

-Lost Small Bits/ Panels from the chapter.. But Sadly Big Huge Chunks for Characters buildup & Growth:

(a) addressed the fact the hiro noticed kyoru is in love & dressed that shigure was right!! the cat being in love is a weird concept to the zodiacs! hiro reacted naturally & the author used hiro to flesh yuki’s (the rat), momiji’s (the rabbit) & haru’s (the cow) decision to silently watch the kyo (the cat) makes his own decisions to live!!! They won’t interfere or tell akito or remind him of his state as the doomed caged cat. So sad this moment is cut from yuki. Why must yuki only interact with kyo to beat him (all seasons)? why must yuki only think of kyo to envy him (all seasons) ? Here, yuki’s growth towards kyo as a person & his relationship with tohru is 1000 times better than all tohru is my mom’s sh!t & I envy kyo’s Sh!t we saw in the anime over & over till we memorized it.

(b) kyo didnt just go la~la~eat with momiji after knowing he loves tohru. Nope, there’s small bits missing: called logical emotional reaction. He was surprised he’s caught pining over tohru! cuz yuki, the audience representative, has told us in the previous chapter that ppl in love dont notice anything around them. Kyo thinks him being cold hid his feelings. the dummy’s feelings are as bright as the sun in the Sahara, tohru too. a child read her! such small thing that wont take much space from the ep but was cut cuz kyo only needs to be responsive at the ep’s end. & this scene of kyo & tohru looking awkwardly at each other is minor in space but so important cuz kyo is determined to let go but his decision is challenged by not only momiji, but his natural attraction to tohru. Here he knows he’s caught & exposed... here he knows momiji is a better choice for tohru cuz he wont didn’t hurt her mom... here he knows that even yuki is better cuz never had to pretend to be cold to her... here he knows the world is better than him... & here he just cant help by smile & walks towards her... T_T ... another lesson in writing slow burns by Takaya-san.

-Why would the anime team pass on this?? drawing kyoru closer after the epic tear in Cinderella ep, cuz they want empty suspense~! The anime team thinks that if kyo & tohru stand next to each other, then it means all their issues are solved & the audience are so stupid as to forget tohru’s mom, kyo’s imprisonment, kyo not confessing his sins to tohru & tohru’s need to make a choice wether to fogive hom or not.. nope! you see, they think, ppl who read mangas are smart, so the author can give this epic symbolism & pp would still be not sure kyoru is end game & tohru will forgive him or kyo even fogive himself, but ppl who watch, oh no, gotta cut all the plot worthy content, produce a graduation song for a minor character, cut all kyo/tohru interaction cuz it only means romance & not at all character depth & oh if we show yuki actually formulating deep thoughts that aren’t centered around him, the audience might forget his se02 struggles! or that might ruin yuki’s upcoming growth moment in the finale where he .. you guessed it hits kyo.. as he always do & sulk & think abt himself cuz yuki can only do monologues when he’s directly involved.... man~it is so sad how the anime is dumped down.. Who is the target audience again? not kids as young as hiro cuz even hiro is smart!

-just look:

Momiji talks abt kyo shouldn't give up loving tohru & the authr shows this this ghost!!! his mom! The author reminds us that kyo isnt da~~~~ forgetting anything. He’s a deeply troubled soul & hos mom wants him locked cuz she too was locked in a cage & thinks that’s safer...why oh why you dump ur own story! sh!t~

Side Notes:

I like the closeups on Kisa’s face as she interacted with kyo. It’s very rare for kisa to have a world beside the endearing parental/big protective bro/big doting sister love she has with tohru & haru & off course the romantic love with hiro which was perhaps since their birth or sth. lol. Kisa & kyo arent much on the brotherly side as they rarely interact, but its one of those refreshing interactions she has that helps cast a new light on her as tiny as it is, but its sth out of the norm around her. She sees him around tohru & gets to perceive his true unprovoked character. “He is nice guy”.

I really wanted to punch kureno this chapter.. like Shigure is a jerk shitty dog for sleeping with akito’s mom but kureno... dude.. you submissively sleep with the guy’s eternal love interest & still walks in on him talking to her!!! lol. you’re mentally, emotionally & physically weaker than him & yet, she puts you on her bed, not him & you, tho not wanting her at all, dont walk away. No wonder shigure is defeated & wishing for someone like tohru, lol! Even if shigure met an older tohru-like person, it wont work. shigure deserve someone like him mean, schemer & loves playing power games. Tohru is someone who values honesty & commutation, not saying she’s an angel on earth, but tohru knows who suits her.. except fate is saying: NO. .... currently. lol.

I know kureno’s weakness is part of his character & I love that such characters exits. There are ppl ike that in real life. It’s just this chapter, I felt shigure’s frustration. XD

Yuki in this ep is the best yuki. no exaggeration here, I love when yuki is calmly thoughtful of others & here its kyo of all ppl !!!! cutting this scene is sad.. without it, kyo & yuki remain a cat & rat in the anime. Only ever thinking abt each other thro envious binoculars or hateful words or yuki giving kyo comedic hitting or life’s problem-solving hitting. Why can’t anime yuki be interactive outside his self-centered issues is beyond me.

Momiji & kyo’s interactions are always the best! whether comedy or drama.

I hated the curry cooking scene in the anime... so weirdly out of the ep’s flow.. very forced comedy... in the manga it had a purpose! not just quick add comedy cuz next shot momiji curse breaks & drama & we’ll close the ep with tears & sadness & glimpses of hope...

I love haru’s answer to hiro... so him.. “a guy can’t fall in love?”so chill.. so..simple.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #manga spoilers #fruits basket manga #manga review #sad paper #mad paper #I'm having shitty personal day dont mind me #sorry for extra anger #if it sounds like I;m screaming or shouting #I'm not i swear #I really love the anime & se03 is the best content among the other seasons #its just have big giant issues in plot & characters....

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aomineavenue · 4 years

Text

betrayal

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Genre: angst (like honestly, tell me what else do I know to write for?)

Summary: finding the other cheated.

Word Count: 1k+

Mia’s General Taglist:

@luvelyxp @paripedia @bokukiyoom @sunnyatsumu @centuress @doggonudez @newfriendjen @kodzukrn @anjvxmmv @keijikunn @maramalademadara @chaelysian

mia speaks:

annnd, i’m back from my little break? I’m feeling a little better. I’m writing on my own pace though, I’m avoiding using my gadgets as much. But anywayyy, thank you so much for everyone’s love and patience.

If it’s not too much, please leave a little COMMENT on this piece or at least REBLOG if you like it. Thank you so much!

"Oh! I'm sorry!" You cry out, throwing your hands up in the air and letting out a dry laugh, "I didn't mean to throw that vase at you, it was an accident!" Your rampage began, anything you can get your hands on, a book, the tv remote, a magazine, a pillow, just anything, was thrown around the room and he dodged it the best that he could.

Betrayal.

It's a violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict amongst individuals. It's considered one of the most painful, traumatising experiences any human may stumble upon throughout their existence. Discovering such an act from someone we trust, may often lead to various emotions that pull the reality rug from under us.

It comes in many forms. Such as abandonment, breaking promises and even the spread of vicious lies behind someone's back.

In your case, however, it's when you come to face reality that the man you agreed to marry just a few months prior, was nowhere near faithful as he claimed to be. Or to put it simply, the bastard was having an affair.

You had been too preoccupied with wedding plans, that you grew ignorant of the blunt signs visible to the naked eye. You were foolish. The two of you haven't even tied the knot yet and there he was, already breaking the sacred promise of a marriage.

For a brief second, you had foolishly wanted nothing more than to look the other way. When he had stumbled home in such an ungodly hour, drunk off his ass, you had wanted nothing more than to reprimand his behaviour as he woke you up from your slumber. As you were about to, however, the whiff of an unfamiliar fruity aroma had attacked your senses the second you had stepped into his proximity.

Of course, you weren't the type of woman to berate their significant other over such a trifling concept without hearing his side of the story, you knew such behaviour will be a downfall for any relationship.

You brushed such an idea off, as much as the scent was bothering you, there was no use in questioning him in his intoxicated state. Well, that is, until you had stepped closer and that's when you saw it.

Bruises, no doubt growing darker as seconds passed by, littered decoratively on his skin, as if left intentionally on his neck for the world to see. For you to see.

That's when your own world falls apart. The walls that the both of you had built together to strengthen your relationship, crumbling apart, taking what you had presumed were strong foundations along with it.

You actually find it hilarious how, just moments ago, he had been stumbling into the shared apartment the two of you had worked so hard for, drunk off his ass, a giggling mess, not being able to comprehend the words that left his mouth. Then all of that changed the moment your lips moved to spew accusations towards his direction, it was as if the alcohol had escaped out of his system almost immediately through the sweat he had produced, obviously from the fear of the consequences of his actions.

He calls out your name desperately to capture your attention, you wanted to leave the apartment you called home right this second, the atmosphere suffocating you further. You try your best to blink away the tears, but you know it's impossible as your vision grows glossy.

"Please," he cries out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you back, "Please just wait, let's—"

"Oikawa," you croak, he flinches from your tone and how you addressed him by his last name. He begs, he cries, telling you to call him Tooru, pleading with you with his desperate eyes. "Oikawa," you repeat, wincing from his tight grip as you turn to face him, his heart clenches to see your eyes filled with nothing but hate and tears, the love he had grown accustomed to seeing, nowhere to be found. "Oikawa, let go!" You shake your wrist out of his hold, refusing to give him the satisfaction of you staying, whatever for anyway? The idea of listening to his excuses only breaks your heart further, you didn't want to see him, not right now, maybe not ever. You certainly didn't want to hear how such bruises even came about to taint his skin. You didn't even want to look at them anymore, you didn't want to look at him. The sight of his disheveled state, the bruises on his neck taunting you, squeezing your heart and you're finding it even harder to breathe.

His desperation shows as he follows you, or rather blocks you from your very evident goal, reaching the front door to escape this sham of a relationship. "Please, let me explain. It was an accident—"

The sight of the tears forming in his own eyes makes you laugh, despite your heart hurting, that it was being pulled apart and all you wanted to do was dissolve into tears, anger began taking over your emotions and to Oikawa, it was clear as the night sky despite the alcohol still swimming in his system, that his begging was futile.

"An accident?" You bark, features contorting into anger as your fingernails bury into your palms, "Do you take me for someone who lacks brain cells? Letting a woman kiss you? That's an accident?"

He winces from the harshness of your tone as he watches you move in the small living room that once radiated so much love and warmth. He knows he fucked up, he knows his answers were no use. The very idea of cheating was taboo for you and what did he do? He fucked up. He knows whatever form of reasoning will never be enough, but he knows he wants to fix the damage he had done. "Please, just listen. It really was just an accident. Baby, you have to—"

"Don't call me that!" You snap at him, using what little energy you have left to push him away from you, his scent mixed with the aroma of alcohol and the fruity perfume were enough to suffocate you. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

His heart hurts upon hearing those words but he continues begging, dropping down to his knees in front of you but you couldn't even bring yourself to care. The mere sound of his voice reaching your ears were enough to fuel the enraged flames surrounding your heart. He tries to approach you, as cautiously as he could but you respond quickly to his actions, taking a step back.

Silence.

The cold air blows through the opened windows and enters the tiny room but despite its cool temperature, it wasn't enough to overpower the heat from the anger and tension radiating off from you. You avoided his pleading gaze, staring straight at the wall behind him as you seethe in anger. You feel your exhaustion dragging you down, your muscles hesitating on letting your guard down. The final straw was when he repeated his sorry excuse. It was an accident.

Your fingers wrapped hastily around the nearest vase and threw it towards his direction. He was quick on his feet despite being tipsy, dodging to the side. The vase hits the wall behind him, smashing into smaller pieces and sliding down to the carpeted floor, the fresh flowers that he had given you a few days prior that occupied the vase, scattered along with the broken fragments. He turned to look at the broken vase and then back at you, despite the fear in his eyes, he was still begging.

He cries out your name, begging you to stop. "Please, I'm sorry. Please, just listen to me."

Your eyes caught the picture frame that rested on one of the shelves and a lump forms in the back of your throat. The picture was the very first picture of the both of you. The day that the two of you met. Without wasting another second, you grabbed it from its location and hurled it towards his direction. The frame misses him by an inch, smashing against the wall with a crack and his heart sinks further, he knows how much you loved that photo. He would often catch you in the early mornings with a cup of your favourite tea, staring at the photo with a smile on your face.

He ruined that.

"I'm sorry, Oikawa." You drawl sarcastically, letting out another laugh, "I didn't mean to throw those things, especially our picture but hey! It was an accident, right?"

"I'm sorry," he murmurs softly in defeat, shifting his gaze down to his hands.

You shake your head at him, “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

And before he could comprehend what was happening, you had already fled the apartment with your car keys.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuufic #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu angst

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threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

So Give Me Hope In The Darkness

Dukeceit Week Day 4: Free Day

Janus comes to him scared and broken. And there is nothing Remus wouldn’t do to help him.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 8855

Warnings: violence, dehumanization/people as test subjects, implied past abuse.

@dukeceitweek <3

“Remus, the transport’s here. You ready?”

Remus looked up from where he had been meticulously finishing the last fold on the absolute best paper airplane he had ever made in his life. “The what?”

Roman, leaning against the doorframe of Remus’ office, sighed deeply. “For the love of all things Disney and musical theatre, Remus, check your e-mail on a regular basis.”

Remus glanced at his desk. His laptop sat half-buried in crumpled up reject airplanes, the screen dark, so he slipped his phone from his pocket to check his e-mail with instead and… oops. One official work order, sent over 40 minutes ago, and three more messages from Virgil that all read somewhere along the lines of “Jesus Christ Remus respond to this so we know you read it.” Which, of course, he hadn’t.

“Uh…” Remus said helplessly. Roman scrubbed a hand down his face, then motioned for Remus to follow as he stepped back out into the hallway. Remus scrambled after him.

“I’ll fill you in, but we need to hurry,” Roman said.

“The hell do they need me for? Wasn’t it just another one of those underground lab bullshit raids? Those always turn up fucking zilch.”

“Not this one,” Roman replied and, well, shit. Now Remus was interested enough to shut up and let his brother talk. “They actually found, like, the real headquarters. Evil scientists and all.”

“Fuck yeah, good for them. Logan and Virgil have been working themselves to the bone...r. But why do they need me?��

Roman gave him a look. It was his it’s time to be serious now, Remus look. “They found a, uh…” he hesitated, looking for the right word. “A test subject.”

“Oh.”

Well that answered that.

By this point, Roman had reached the door that led out to the parking garage. He stopped at the door and gave Remus a pointed look.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Remus muttered. Quickly, he emptied out his pockets and shoved his phone, wallet, keys, a small notebook, a miniature lockpick set, and a pocket knife all into Roman’s waiting hands. The last time he’d tangled with an aggressive gifted, he’d gotten the entire contents of his pockets- as well as the pants themselves- reduced to a pile of molten plastic and ash. “Right. Here I go.”

“Logan will brief you. Be careful.”

“I’ll be fine, bro, chill out.” Remus patted Roman’s cheek- which his brother couldn’t do a damn thing about with his hands full of Remus’ stuff- then pushed the door open and made his way out to the intake dock.

There was already a small crowd gathered around, a safe distance from where the armored transport van had been backed into the receiving bay. Logan, Patton, and Virgil were there, of course. But the presence of a handful of armed officers was a surprise. Logan usually refused to allow the police department to send their thugs into situations like this. This sort of thing was what Remus was on the payroll for.

“Wasn’t expecting a party,” Remus said as he approached his team. Logan turned away from his conversation with Virgil.

“Ah, Remus. There you are,” he said. “I take it you have read the work order?”

“I… skimmed it,” Remus lied. Logan looked unimpressed.

“Well, just in case you missed anything important, let us recap. Virgil?”

“Uh, yeah.” Virgil stepped closer, looking troubled. “We found a gifted in there, probably a test subject knowing these bastards. He’s aggressive, borderline feral, and those jokers-” He jerked his head in the general direction of the uniformed police. “Didn’t fucking help the situation. I couldn’t reach him, but I don’t know if that’s cause he’s in a state of mind where logic and reason are completely out the window, or if he’s… like us.”

Remus nodded. His own powers would work where Virgil’s had failed, but only if this one wasn’t completely immune to the effects of other gifteds like he and Virgil were. He turned to Patton. “You got anything for me, pops?”

“Of course!” From the pocket of his white doctor’s coat, Patton produced a small capped syringe filled with bright blue liquid. “I had to guess at the dosage, though.”

Remus accepted the tranquilizer and shoved it in his pocket. It would be a last resort. Looking to Logan, he asked, “Any ideas on powers? What to watch out for?” He was not pleased to see Logan grimace.

“We don’t know yet. The base is still being swept, so it will likely be some time before we will know what, if any, information was found on this subject.”

There was a heavy thunk from inside the armored van that made Patton jump.

“Sounds like we don’t have that kind of time,” Remus mused. “Somebody wants out.”

“He was restrained when we found him. Blindfolded, too,” Virgil offered. “So he needs either visual, touch, or both.”

“Really narrows it down there, Virge,” Remus said with a huff. There was another thunk. “I’m going in. Standard operating procedure?”

Logan nodded. Remus nodded back, then looked to Virgil.

Virgil led him through the crowd of uniforms, snapping at a few of them to move back, and up to the back doors of the van. He met Remus’ gaze. There was another thunk.

“Ok, now!” Remus said. Virgil tore open the door. Remus threw himself at the gifted on the other side, and Virgil slammed the door shut behind him.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect, so when he collided with a much smaller body, his momentum sent them both sprawling across the back of the van. Remus was bigger and stronger though, and didn’t have the disadvantage of being blindfolded, so he flipped the smaller body easily beneath him, wincing slightly at the hiss of pain he heard, and pressed a palm firmly against the bare skin of his neck.

“Why don’t you take a nap,” he growled. His power reached into the body, weaving its way into the circulatory system to slow the heart. Or, well. It tried to. He couldn't get a hold anywhere.

“Fuck. You are like us,” Remus muttered; more to himself than to the other, who was becoming increasingly difficult to hold down as he writhed and struggled against Remus’ weight. With his free hand, Remus reached around to try and fish the syringe out of his pocket. But the movement put him off balance. The gifted threw him off with a sharp jerk and scrambled away.

They both staggered to their feet on opposite ends of the cramped space, and Remus got his first good look at the gifted. His long blonde hair was a tangled mess, and he was still blindfolded- though he tracked Remus’ location enough to bare his teeth at him. Some sort of restraint seemed to be keeping his arms behind his back. Remus kind of wanted to murder whoever had done this to him.

“Hey, look, I’m not trying to hurt you,” he offered, even though he knew Virgil had already tried using his literal powers of persuasion on him. “I swear, I’m just trying to help you. But you need to calm the hell down.”

The gifted had pressed his back up against the wall of the van. Talking wasn’t going to do shit. The sooner Remus ended this the better. He rushed the gifted again; the gifted spun out of his grasp, and his hand closed on… feathers? The fuck? Whatever. The gifted had cornered himself against the back wall of the van. Remus spun sharply and slammed his weight into him. Winded, and with his back pinned into the corner, there was a precious few seconds where the gifted made no move. That was enough time for Remus to slip the cap off the syringe and jam it into the gifted’s thigh.

His muscles immediately went slack, and Remus carefully lowered him to the floor, mindful of the goddamn wings he could now see were strapped down tightly against the gifted’s back.

“What the fuck did they do to you?” he asked sadly. He leaned over to bang three times on the van wall to signal the all clear to Virgil. A sudden, sharp pain raced up his other arm, and he jerked back with a yelp. The gifted had apparently gathered enough strength for one last act of defiance and had lashed out to fucking bite him, what the hell? Remus pushed him back down to the floor, and this time he stayed down.

One of the back doors to the van eased open, and Virgil peeked in. Remus turned to him, and the whole world spun.

“Ah, fuck,” he managed. “Venomous. Cute.”

And then he promptly blacked out.

Remus woke up in one of the dimly lit rooms of Patton’s infirmary. Patton had a vendetta against fluorescent lights, instead opting for soft, warm lights that didn’t give everyone headaches. Remus was thankful for this every time he woke up here- which was often- but especially now. His head was throbbing, and he kind of felt like he’d been hit by Virgil’s big armored transport van. Which he had before (his own damn fault) so he knew exactly how it felt.

His phone buzzed. Wincing at the movement, Remus glanced over to the small table beside the bed where his phone sat amid the pile of his other belongings. Which meant he had been out long enough for Roman to stop by and leave again. His phone buzzed again, so despite his body screaming at him for doing so, he reached over and grabbed it.

His team’s groupchat was filled with missed messages from the past hour. He scrolled through the most recent ones with a slight frown.

Nerdy Wolverine

Patton, please give us an update on Remus’ condition.

Daddy

He’s gonna be just fine, kiddos, he’s just sleeping it off.

Daddy’s Favorite

👏👏👏

Surly Temple

Oh joy.

Daddy’s Favorite

You were just as worried as the rest of us, Dr. Gloom.

Surly Temple

You can’t prove that.

Daddy

Calm down, kiddos.

Nerdy Wolverine

Patton, I would also like an update on the subject.

Daddy

Are you sure? There’s kinda a lot to talk about.

Nerdy Wolverine

Something brief, then. I will come by the infirmary when this meeting is over.

Remus

Logan, texting during a meeting??? 😱😱😱

Surly Temple

Remus!

Daddy’s Favorite

Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!

Remus

I lived, bitch.

Daddy

I’ll be right there! Don’t you dare sit up!

Remus was already in the process of sitting up when Patton burst through the door. He winced slightly at the pain, but moreso at the disappointed look Patton gave him.

“Uh-uh, you lay back down, mister,” he said. Remus sighed.

“I’m perfectly fine, pops,” he whined, but laid back down anyway, because even Remus knew better than to argue with Patton.

“Maybe, but you know the drill,” Patton replied. Remus made a noise of protest, but let Patton take his vitals and check him over. Then after an eternity- or more accurately, about five minutes- Patton stepped back and said, “Alright kiddo, you’re all good. Take it easy though. Maybe go home after the debrief, ok?”

Remus sat up now that he was allowed to. “I can’t believe that little fucker bit me,” he scoffed. He glanced down at his arm, where it had been bandaged up. “What happened to him? Where is he?”

Patton looked a little uncomfortable, which more or less answered Remus’ question. The agency would be forced to hold the gifted here until the illegal lab had been fully cleared out and all the paperwork filed; and, well, there was a good chance Logan’s bosses would send in government officials to “assess the mental stability of the liberated test subject,” which was really just shitty politician speak for “see if this could become a huge scandal and decide if it was better to just make it all disappear.”

“Fuck,” was all he said. Then he got unsteadily to his feet. “Where’s Logan?”

Patton put a hand on his shoulder to help steady him. “He’s in a meeting with the chief of police. They’re trying to take the case.”

“Teach won’t let ‘em,” Remus said proudly. “I’m gonna, like. Go sit in my office. Cool?"

Patton eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. Remus gathered up all of his stuff from the table beside the bed, and darted out the door before Patton could change his mind.

When Janus woke up, he immediately became aware of three things, in consecutive order.

First, he was somewhere he had never been before. That realization did not come as a surprise. He, of course, distinctly remembered the whole… “getting dragged out of his cell by people he didn’t know” incident. Usually he knew better than to lash out, but… there had been so much noise, so much unfamiliar chaos, and in his fear, he hadn’t known what else to do. And of course, it hadn’t done him any good; it never did. And now he was here. Wherever “here” was.

The second realization did come as a surprise, as he sat up on the cot where he’d been laid, and looked around the sparse, softly-lit room: he was completely unbound. His wings were still instinctively pressed against his back, but they twitched at the realization and slowly unfurled to their full span. He winced slightly as tendons snapped into their proper places for the first time in a very long time but then he sighed in relief as the fragile bones settled.

He had only just begun to catalogue the state of the rest of his body when a voice startled him into the third realization: he was not alone in the room.

“Damn, look at you!”

Janus flinched so hard he almost hit the wall the cot was pushed up against. He brought his wings around him protectively, and turned his eyes on the man sitting on a plastic chair near the opposite corner of the room. He narrowed his eyes as he recognized the voice of the man from the truck.

“Hey, hey, don’t ruffle your feathers at me like that,” the man laughed. “Sorry about before, man. It was the only way to get you off the truck.”

Janus didn’t say anything. But he shifted so he was crouched on the cot rather than seated, in case he needed to dart away quickly. That seemed to amuse the man further.

“Relax, I ain’t here for a rematch. You kicked my ass fair and square. I just wanted to see how you were doing.��

Janus glared.

“I’m Remus, by the way. You got a name, snake-bird?”

He stood up as he said it, and Janus instinctively flinched back. The man-Remus?- didn’t look like the bad people, dressed in baggy jeans and an alluringly soft-looking green flannel. The bad people always wore white coats or body armor, depending on what they were planning to do to him that day. But… maybe they were just trying something new.

The man hadn’t moved closer. He was watching Janus with a look that fell somewhere between sadness and anger, and it kind of made Janus want to curl up into a ball and hide.

“I, uh… I guess they treated you real bad down there, huh?” Remus said slowly. “Look, I know you’re scared, and you’re probably super confused, but you’re safe now. I can at least promise you that.”

He didn’t wait for any sort of response from Janus this time, instead turning to riffle through the bag that had been leaning up against his chair. He withdrew a fluffy, pale yellow blanket. He looked between it and Janus, and while Janus wasn’t the best at reading facial cues, he thought for a moment that Remus looked… embarrassed. Then, he moved forward a few paces and set the blanket down and backed up again.

“Here, uh… that’s for you. If you want it. Anyway, yeah. I’m gonna just.” He edged toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Janus.” His name leapt from his tongue before he could stop it. His voice was raspy, and his throat was sore, and he was still afraid- terrified- but still he ground out the words that made Remus pause in the doorway to look back at him. “I’m… Janus.”

The file Logan put down in front of them was almost the size of the textbooks Remus used as doorsteps in college (rather than their intended use) and for a moment, they all just stared at it. Then, Remus said what they were all thinking: “Well, fuck.”

“I hate to agree,” Roman sighed. “But yes. That.”

“Of course there will be much more to go over after I have had the time to fully analyze these files, but I thought it imperative I explain the current situation to you all as soon as possible,” Logan said. He was seated at the head of the conference table. The rest of the team was seated around the table except for Virgil, who paced restlessly nearby. Everyone- even Remus- stayed quiet, because when Logan talked, everyone listened.

“With this file, and similar documents recovered both from the most recent site and from previous sites, as well as the recovery of a live test subject, our case is more than sufficient to ensure those responsible will not walk away from this.”

There was a collective sigh of relief. Virgil, who had been working on this case alongside Logan for years, looked especially relieved. He collapsed into the chair next to Remus, and Remus leaned over to ruffle his hair with a grin.

“You guys should be proud,” Patton exclaimed. “You worked so hard to see this through!”

“Well it’s not finished yet,” Roman pointed out. He nodded to the file in the middle of the table, that none of them had dared to open yet.

“Roman is correct,” Logan said. For a moment, he looked very tired; then, he adjusted his tie, and continued. “We must first ensure we have indeed apprehended all parties responsible. There are more names in these files than persons in our custody. Additionally, there is the matter of the test subject-”

“Janus,” Remus interrupted. Everyone gave him an odd look, so he clarified, “His name is Janus. He told me.”

“...Janus, then,” Logan amended. “Janus is to remain in our care until he can be evaluated. If he is deemed capable, he will be free to go once the investigation is closed.”

Logan did not, nor did he need to, state what would happen to Janus if he didn’t pass the evaluation. The agency’s evaluation essentially just looked to see if a gifted could still be considered a “person,” or if they had gone “feral”- and not in the fun way. Feral gifteds got locked up somewhere and were never seen again.

Remus, like all gifteds, hated it; but the government viewed them as dangerous. And a gifted that wasn’t in complete control of their mind, and thus, their powers, was considered too dangerous to let go free. Regardless of what trauma had made them that way in the first place, and if, with proper care, they could heal from it. It made Remus sick.

“They’re not taking Janus,” Remus spat out, interrupting whatever Logan was going to say next. “I won’t let them.”

“Ree,” Roman said gently. “We may not have a choice.”

“No. You guys haven’t seen him- he isn’t aggressive, he’s just scared.”

“Do you know how many people it took to get him into the damn truck?” Virgil snapped. “Oh and also, he bit you? You’re immune to gifted powers and he still knocked you out?”

“Think about it from his perspective. You’ve been trapped in literal hell for who knows how long, and then suddenly you’re getting dragged out by people you don’t know, blindfolded and tied up, to go who knows where? I’d bite too.”

Patton looked heartbroken at Remus’ words. Virgil didn’t look convinced. But it was Logan who spoke.

“We have time,” Logan said. “Until the investigation closes, he remains in our custody. We make the decisions regarding his care.” He cast Remus a meaningful look, and repeated, “We have time.”

Remus understood.

He left Janus alone for the rest of the day, because he figured the guy probably could use some time to calm down. He even managed to persuade Patton to put off any sort of medical examination for the time being- partly for the same reason, and partly because Remus would need to be there in case Janus reacted badly, and Remus still sort of felt like shit and he just wanted to go home and sleep.

So Remus had gone home, passed out for like 15 hours, and woke up feeling a little less like death and decay.

The benefit of going to sleep at like 2pm was that, even after his stupidly long “I got bit by something venomous” nap, he still made it back to the agency at the crack of dawn. It was quiet, none of the police department’s goons hanging around, and Remus, with his years of practice, could sneak easily past Logan’s office.

He peeked in through the little window in the holding cell door. Janus himself was nowhere to be seen- instead, there was a Janus-sized blanket mound curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. The sight made Remus smile fondly.

“Damnit, you’re actually kinda cute,” he muttered. And then promptly decided he was not going to overthink that.

Remus camped out outside the holding cell until the headquarters came to life. The mornings were always a flurry of activity, even moreso today what with yesterday’s events. He saw the moment the noise from the hallway woke Janus up- the gifted poked his head out from under the blanket, mismatched eyes blinking sleepily, and then quickly vanished into the blanket mound once more. It was stupidly adorable.

An intern came by with a tray of food for Janus, and Remus stopped him from approaching the door.

“I got this, kid,” he said with an amused grin. “This is way above your paygrade.”

The intern handed over the tray with a look of relief and scampered off. Poor kid.

The blanket mound stirred when Remus stepped into the room, but there was no further indication that Janus intended to come out. He shut the door behind him, and walked over to crouch down near- but not too near- the blanket mound.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. I take it you like the blanket?”

The blanket shuffled backward a few inches. Remus set the tray down on the floor in front of him.

“I don’t really know what kind of food you like, so hopefully there’s something here you'll eat,” he said, eyeing the assorted fruits, toast, and eggs that had been sent up. “But like, if you want something else, you can tell me.” There was no response, so Remus stood up slowly and backed away. “I’ll just… be over here, then.”

He dragged the plastic chair to the opposite end of the room to give Janus as much space as possible, and plopped down in it with every intention of waiting him out.

It took about forty minutes of idly scrolling through his phone before Janus emerged, slowly and warily, mismatched eyes darting between Remus and the plate of food. Remus glanced toward him.

“Go ahead. It’s yours. Cold by now, I’ll bet.”

It took a further ten minutes for Janus to make up his mind and emerge fully from under the blanket and approach the plate- but when he finally did, he downed the food so fast, Remus was surprised he didn’t choke.

“Guess you like everything,” he mused. “Fuck, did they even feed you down there?”

He wasn’t really expecting an answer, because Janus was moving back toward his blanket. But rather than vanishing again, Janus sat down facing Remus, with his back to the wall, wings draped around his body like a blanket, and the actual blanket across his lap.

“They did, sometimes,” he replied. His voice sounded a bit rough still, like it had been a while since he’d used it, and quiet enough that Remus had to strain to hear him from across the room.

“Shit, man, these people fucking suck. How long'd they have you?”

Janus seemed to consider the question, but ended up just shaking his head. “I don’t know.” He avoided Remus’ eye for a few minutes, but he looked like he had more to say; Remus just waited in silence until finally, Janus asked, slowly, “Why am I here? Who are you?”

“I’m glad you ask, bud,” Remus answered. He stood up, and Janus flinched back slightly, feathers puffing up a bit. Remus moved a few feet closer, and then sat down on the ground so he was level with Janus. “It’s kinda a long story, but the short version is that it’s our job to go after the kinds of people who do this sort of shit. And the people who took you are gonna go to jail for the rest of their fucking lives for what they did.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “They ain’t gonna lay a finger on you ever again. I promise.”

Janus eyed him carefully, like he wasn’t sure if he could believe what he was hearing. Remus couldn’t blame him. And then he was gone, vanishing back under the yellow blanket. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, and stood up.

“I, uh. Yeah. I guess I’ll leave you alone then.” He paused at the door, and glanced over his shoulder. “You want more blankets? Some pillows, maybe?”

A muffled “Yes,” was the reply. Remus, again, could not help but smile fondly to himself.

Sleeping on the floor meant that Janus could stay alert to anyone approaching his cell, by sensing the vibrations in the ground. By his third visit, Janus could easily discern Remus’ gait from that of the others that passed down the hall.

He brought pillows and more blankets, just like he said he would. And then he asked if he could bring a friend in.

“He couldn’t give you more than a quick once-over when you first got here,” Remus explained while Janus sat on the floor and inspected his new blankets, marveling at how soft they were. “But he wants to make sure you’re not hurt anywhere.”

“I’m not hurt anywhere,” Janus said quickly. It wasn’t totally a lie; he wasn’t hurt anywhere specific, he just sort of hurt in general. That was normal though.

“Ok, I’m gonna pretend I believe that,” Remus huffed. “But even so. He’s gotta do it sometime soon.”

Janus cast Remus a sideways glance. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, and he still wasn’t sure how much he could trust these people. The ones before had never shown him kindness- he’d been grabbed off the street in his early teens and treated like an animal ever since. This new place… it felt different from anything he’d experienced before, and that made him wary.

Being shown kindness and then having it taken away was worse than having never been shown it at all.

“Okay,” Janus said finally, because he didn’t think he was actually being given a choice in this.

“Okay,” Remus echoed. He seemed unconvinced, which sent a small spike of anxiety into Janus’ chest, because the last thing he wanted to do was upset Remus. The man had brought him blankets, for goodness’ sake. “I’ll text him.”

Janus decided to busy himself with nervously running his hands through his oily feathers. His wings badly needed grooming, but he didn’t know how to ask for brushes. Would they let him have brushes here? He wasn’t allowed them at the old place. He was so lost in that thought, that he didn’t sense someone approaching the door until it was being opened.

“Hey, pops, come on in,” Remus said. Janus glanced over, and was immediately gripped by panic.

He didn’t recognize the man, and his expression of “cheer fading into concern” was an unfamiliar one, but it was the white coat he wore that Janus recognized. He knew what the white coat meant.

He got caught in his pile of blankets as he tried to scramble to his feet. He tripped and crashed to the ground; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus make a grab for him. But he was too quick, kicking off the blanket that had tangled up his legs and springing to his feet. He used his wings to balance himself and buffeted Remus over the head in the process.

“Janus- fuck-” Remus staggered back to avoid a second blow from Janus’ thrashing wings. The man at the doorway looked torn between rushing in to help and backing away. Janus bared his fangs at him, but he was shaking so badly, he felt like a small breeze could topple him.

The man took a step closer, hand held out, but Janus barely heard his words- “Oh gosh, kiddo, I’m not gonna hurt you!”- over the blood pulsing in his ears. His back hit the wall behind him, and abruptly his legs gave out. He slid down to the ground and curled his wings over his head.

“Janus?” Remus’ voice sounded far away beyond the curtain of feathers. “Hey, you gotta talk to me here.”

“I’ve been good,” Janus managed to choke out. “I- Please don’t, I’ve… I’ve been good.” He curled further in on himself, fully expecting to be struck.

But nothing happened. The door opened and closed. Then silence. Janus risked a quick peek through his feathers and found that the other man was gone. Remus sat a few feet away.

“It’s ok, he’s gone,” Remus said quickly. Janus did not lower his wings, but the shaking abated slightly.

“I’ve been good,” he said again, a little more firmly this time. “You promised.”

Remus looked unnerved. He scooted a few inches closer and asked, “What did I promise?”

“That they… they wouldn’t hurt me again,” Janus hissed. Then, softer this time, “I’ve been good.”

“You have been good, but that doesn’t have anything to do with… wait, did you think…” Remus looked confused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Patton isn’t one of them. Is that what you thought?”

Janus just glared.

“Oh, snake-bird.” Remus’ eyes softened. “Patton’s one of us. He’s ok.”

“He looks like them,” Janus growled. “White-coat.”

“White coat… oh, shit, man, I didn’t even think.” The sudden volume of Remus’ voice made Janus shrink back into the safety of his own wings. “Oh, shit, sorry. Hey, come back. I’m sorry.”

Janus folded his wings back with a huff, and gave Remus an unamused look. Remus gave him a soft smile in return.

“I mean it. Patton is one of us. I can tell him to take off his coat. He won’t touch you unless you tell him he can. And you can tell him to leave, at any point, and I’ll throw him out myself. Deal?”

Janus searched his face for a long time. Remus seemed… so distressed. What would be the point, of faking that? There would be no reason to fake any of this, would there?

(Or maybe there was, and he was just too blinded by the hope that his nightmare had finally come to an end to see it.)

But slowly, reluctantly, but unable to shake the small seed of trust in Remus that had just started to take root, Janus said, “Deal.”

After the small fiasco that was Janus and Patton’s first meeting, things actually went rather smoothly. Patton wasn’t able to give as thorough of an exam as he was hoping. Janus was too skittish for that. And he had flat out refused a blood draw, which Remus had kind of expected.

But at the very least, Patton was able to sign off that there were no signs of physical trauma that demanded immediate medical care, which was really all Logan’s bosses wanted.

Despite his initial reaction, it seemed like the experience with Patton actually helped Janus feel more confident in his new situation. He grew more comfortable exercising his new control over his body and his space, even going so far as to tell Remus to go away when he wanted to be alone. And when he asked for brushes for his wings one day, Remus left work then and there to go get them. When he came back, Janus was waiting at the door for him.

“Well then, eager beaver, I hope I got the right stuff,” Remus said. He handed over the bag. It was way more than the two brushes Janus had asked for, but Logan had given him the company card and, well, Logan should know better than to do that.

“Anything is better than a rag and my own hands, which is what I usually use,” Janus said. Remus very politely did not make the joke he so desperately wanted to make. “Is that… a bottle of dish soap?”

“Sure,” Remus answered as Janus pulled the little blue bottle of Dawn dish soap out of the bag. “They use it to clean crude oil spills off penguins and shit and, like, a penguin's a bird, right?”

Janus sighed deeply, but he was smiling, and Remus would steal him the sun if it meant Janus would keep smiling.

“Anyway, uh…” Remus shifted awkwardly. “I can, like. Leave you alone, I guess. If you want. Unless you want… uh, never mind, I’ll go-”

“Would you help?” Janus asked. He glanced down at the bag in his hands, and added, with much less confidence, “Um. There are parts I can’t reach.”

“Yeah, of course,” Remus said immediately. “Just tell me what to do?”

Janus guided him to sit down on the ground, and then plopped down next to him. He carefully spread one of his wings out and, after a moment of hesitation, let it drape across Remus’ lap. Remus tried not to feel too overwhelmed by the incredible amount of trust Janus was putting in him right now.

“Here,” Janus passed one of the bristle brushes to Remus- one of many that Remus had bought- and then chose one for himself. “Just go with the growth, please. But if you find any loose feathers go ahead and work them out. Gently, though.”

Remus obeyed. He brushed carefully through the feathers, marveling at their soft golden-brown color. Even covered in oil and grime, they were beautiful. But after a few minutes, Janus frowned.

“Everything ok?” Remus asked. He was suddenly afraid he was brushing too hard, or hurting Janus somehow, even though Janus had given no indication that he was in pain.

“It’s just…” Janus sighed helplessly. “They’re so dirty.”

He looked almost on the edge of tears when he said it, which was enough to put Remus immediately into I will do anything for you mode. “Do you want to try the Dawn? One time Patton used it to wash a cat he found that was all grimed up and shit, and it worked real well.”

Janus seemed to consider it. He glanced over toward the door that led to the little private bathroom attached to the holding cell, then shook his head.

“There’s not enough space in there,” he said. “We’ll make a mess.”

“We can go downstairs,” Remus suggested. “There’s showers in the employee locker rooms. Plenty of space.”

Janus looked skeptical. “Is that allowed?”

It was, technically, not allowed. Janus had not been evaluated yet, and he wasn’t really allowed out of holding until he was. But… well, if they were quick, no one would notice. What was life without a little risk?

“Sure!” he said. “It’s fine.”

“...Okay. Sure.”

Grinning, Remus got to his feet and gathered all their supplies back into the bag. Then he beckoned for Janus to follow.

“Logan’s in meetings for most of the day, and Roman’s off on assignment,” he said. He eased open the cell door and peered out into the empty hall. “And Patton’s usually swamped with paperwork in the afternoons. Everyone else who works here is too scared of me to say anything.”

Janus didn’t question it. Remus led him down the hall and paused to make sure the stairwell was also empty before leading him down the two flights to the ground floor. Janus seemed nervous in the unfamiliar surroundings. He clung close to Remus, close enough that he almost ran into him at several points. Remus tried to give him reassuring smiles and the occasional word of encouragement.

There were voices in the break room, so they had to go around to get to the locker room. It was usually empty at this time, and today was no exception. Remus held the door open and ushered Janus inside.

“The showers are over here.” Remus pulled back the curtain and leaned in to turn on the water. “You a warm water person or a cold water person?”

“Warm,” Janus said quickly. “Please.”

As the water warmed up, Remus helped him to pull off his soft flannel shirt (one of many Remus had bought because the agency-provided shirts were those horrible starchy t-shirts and Janus had hated them.) Remus was amazed at how much healthier the scaled half of his face and body looked after just a week of proper meals and consistent rest.

“Are you sure this isn’t going to turn everything blue?” Janus asked when Remus passed him the bottle of Dawn. He still looked vaguely unconvinced about this whole thing.

“Nah, it won’t, don’t worry!”

Janus sighed. “Ok, but if it does, I shall never forgive you.”

“If I turn your wings blue, I’ll buy you so many blankets, they’ll fill up your whole room. Ready?”

“Well that makes me want my wings to turn blue,” Janus said. He followed Remus into the shower stall.

It took longer than Remus was expecting to wash out all the years of grime from Janus’ wings. It was especially difficult closer to the point where the wings met his back, because Janus couldn’t reach there on his own. Remus worked through those spots carefully, and it wasn’t until he was almost done that he realized Janus had gone silent.

“Hey, you good?”

“Mhmm.”

Remus leaned over to catch Janus’ eye, only to find his eyes were closed. There was a content look on his face.

“...did you fall asleep?”

“No.”

“You totally did!” Remus grinned. “You fell asleep standing up!”

Janus opened his eyes to glare at him, but the glare was tempered by the obvious half-dazed look of someone who had, in fact, just woken up.

“...Ok, maybe I did for a moment there,” Janus huffed. The glare became a pout. “It just feels nice.”

Remus let his grin soften into a smile. “Good. I’m glad.”

The sound of the locker room door opening and closing startled them both. Remus pulled back the curtain just enough to look out into the locker room- and he immediately came face-to-face with Virgil.

“Oh. ‘Sup, Virge.”

Virgil was eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Uh… a smoothie?”

“That’s not… Remus, that’s not how that meme works. And you’re not even holding a smoothie.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Are you showering with your clothes on?”

“Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

Virgil’s eyes flicked toward the ground, then back up to Remus. “You realize I can see there’s someone in there with you, right?”

Remus also glanced downward. The curtain stopped about six inches off the ground. “Uh…”

“And I can also see the pile of feathers on the floor that you sure as fuck better not try and wash down the drain.”

“I’m not that dumb.”

Virgil sighed. “Hello, Janus.”

Janus hesitantly poked his head out from the other side of the curtain. “Hello.”

“The fuck are you guys doing?”

“We’re not having sex if that’s what you’re thinking,” Remus said. Janus made a choked sound and vanished back into the showers.

“There is no universe in which I was thinking that,” Virgil growled.

“No universe? Not even one?”

“What the fuck are you doing down here?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “If you must know, snake-bird here looked like a penguin in an oil spill. We’re washing his wings.” A pause. “Hey, since you’re here, wanna hand me a couple of towels? The big fluffy ones Patton hides.”

Virgil walked away grumbling, but by the time Remus had finished rinsing the soap out of Janus’ wings and shut off the water, Virgil was waiting outside with a stack of Patton’s fluffy light blue towels. Remus took one and wrapped Janus up in it.

“What’re you up to, Emo?” he asked as he took a second towel and started toweling off Janus’ dripping wings.

“Logan sent me to find you,” Virgil answered. He was watching the scene unfold in front of him with a look that Remus didn’t bother trying to decipher. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Probably ‘cause it’s sitting on my desk. What’s Teach need me for?”

“He wants to talk. Work stuff.”

“Oh.” Remus looked at Janus. “We should, uh. Probably get you back upstairs before he comes looking for me himself.”

Janus nodded. He gathered up the brushes and, after a moment of eyeing Virgil cautiously, reached over and snatched up one more of Patton’s fluffy towels and shoved it in the bag as well. At Virgil’s look of incredulity, there was nothing else for Remus to do but burst out laughing.

As it turned out, Logan would probably not have been upset over Janus’ field trip downstairs, because when Remus finally made it to his office, the first thing Logan said to him was, “Would you be opposed to letting Janus stay in your home?”

Because apparently, Logan had pulled some strings with his bosses to get Janus out of holding; he had argued that spending his time in a home environment- instead of a type of confinement similar to what he’d endured for a large portion of his life- would vastly improve his chances of passing the assessment. The higher-ups had agreed, with the stipulation that Janus be released into the care of one of Logan’s team.

“Of course he can come home with me,” Remus had said, almost automatically. It was a chance to get Janus out of the box he’d been stuck in all this time. There was nothing that could make him say no.

Janus had seemed hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to it. So the next day, they had packed up the mountain of pillows and blankets, the bag of brushes and stolen towels, the couple of books Logan had sent up to keep Janus occupied when Remus couldn’t, the snake plushie Virgil had apparently dropped off the night before, and the multicolored cake Patton and Roman had brought by for him that morning that was now half-eaten, and hauled it all over to Remus’ apartment. For a guy who’d been dragged out of hell with only the clothes on his back, Janus sure had a lot of shit to move.

Janus had balked at getting into a car, so Remus talked Patton and Roman into driving his stuff over for him, and then walked with Janus to the apartment. It wasn’t that far, and, Remus realized with a stab of guilt, it was probably the first time Janus had seen the sun in a long time. He kept pausing to close his eyes and tilt his head up toward the sunlight for a few moments at a time, before darting after Remus. Remus didn't stop him.

It slowed them down to the point that when they finally got to the apartment, Roman had let himself and Patton in, brought all of Janus’ stuff up, and then left. Which was just as well- Janus had met Roman only once, and had seemed oddly jumpy around him.

“So, yeah,” Remus said, after showing Janus around. “You can just grab anything you need. I don’t really keep anything fragile in here ‘cause I tend to break stuff, so don’t worry.”

It was odd, seeing Janus standing in the middle of his living room, with his wings- which after their scrubdown, actually had a soft golden sheen to them- folded carefully against his back. But he seemed relaxed in a way Remus hadn’t seen before. Logan was right.

That evening, Remus got Janus settled into the bedroom.

“Where will you sleep?” Janus asked tentatively as Remus dumped all of Janus’ blankets onto the bed.

“Huh? Oh, I’ll just be in the other room,” Remus replied. “I sleep on the couch half the time anyway, no big deal.”

“Oh.” was all Janus said. Remus made sure he was comfortable, and then went to pass out on the couch.

When he woke up sometime late in the night, he wasn’t quite sure what had woken him. Remus was, historically, a heavy sleeper. He’d once slept through a monsoon in a cheap tent. If he was tired enough, he could probably sleep through an earthquake.

He turned his head to squint out into the dark apartment, and could just make out that the bedroom door was ajar. Remus stood up to go check on Janus- and then promptly tripped over Janus.

Remus yelped, and collapsed into the blanket nest that had appeared on the ground next to the couch; Janus yelped, on account of being tripped over, and scrambled out from under his pile of blankets. They both stared at each other through the darkness for a moment, and then both spoke at once.

“Are you ok-”

“I’m sorry-”

They both paused, and then Remus laughed.

“Shit, J, almost gave me a heart attack there. You ok?”

Janus looked a little sheepish. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s ok. What’re you doing sleeping there, though?”

“Um…” Janus looked down at his hands where he was clutching the snake plushie. It was stupidly cute. “I couldn’t sleep, alone. I thought I’d sleep better… out here.”

Remus blinked at him, still half-asleep. And it was probably because he was still half-asleep that he said, “Do you want me to sleep in there with you?”

Janus, after a moment, nodded.

“Ok. I can do that, snake-bird. It’s ok.”

Remus helped Janus stand up, and they moved the blanket mound back into the bedroom. The rest of Janus’ blankets and pillows had been made into a nest wedged into the space between the bed and the wall. Remus smiled fondly.

“Didn’t like the bed, huh?”

“I feel safer on the floor,” Janus said, looking embarrassed. “I can… sense vibrations in the ground. I know if someone’s coming up to me.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Remus glanced between the nest and the bed, and shrugged. “I got the bed, then.”

He laid down, while Remus clamored over the bed to get to his nest and then promptly burrowed under the mountain of blankets. And as he was drifting off, Remus could have sworn he heard a soft sigh from Janus, of something that could, perhaps, be contentment.

Janus had never slept so well before. Tucked into the space between the bed and the wall, in a room so unlike the cement-walled cell he’d spent years calling home- and with the soft snoring of Remus, the man he had tentatively come to trust, nearby, Janus slept through the night. And the night after that, and the night after that.

So when he woke with a start the fourth night, it took him a few groggy minutes to piece together why he was awake. He was still curled up comfortably under his blankets. Remus was snoring away in the bed above him. And then the people in the kitchen took another step toward the bedroom, and the vibrations in the floor raced up to Janus’ body. He sat up in a panic.

“Remus,” he hissed. No response. He reached up and grabbed at Remus’ shoulder to try and shake him awake. “Remus!”

Remus grumbled something incomprehensible, and did not wake. Starting to feel frantic, Janus crawled up onto the bed and shook Remus harder. At the same moment that Remus’ eyes fluttered open, the doorknob turned.

“Janus?” Remus asked, voice rough with sleep. Then the door was flung open. Flashlight beams fell across them both as men poured into the small room. Janus turned, baring his teeth, and spread his wings to shield Remus behind him.

“Take him, alive,” one of the men ordered. Janus squinted through the harsh glare of their flashlights to pick out who was speaking. “Kill the other.”

No. Absolutely not.

Janus caught the leader’s eye and summoned his powers to him. The man tried to look away, but even in the gloom, Janus’ powers held him rooted to the spot.

“Sleep,” he snarled, forcing all of his power and will into the command. The man dropped to the floor.

In the seconds it took for him to wrest the leader’s consciousness away, the other men had fanned out around him. Janus whipped around to his left, but froze when he felt the cold muzzle of a gun touch the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice behind him sneered. A man to his right reached to grab him. There was a crack and a grunt of pain behind him, and the gun fell away- Remus appeared on his right and swung what looked like a crowbar. There was another sickening crack, and the man grabbing for Janus immediately collapsed in a heap.

The momentum of the swing propelled Remus up off the bed and into the next armed goon. They both fell backwards- Remus knocked his gun away, and as they hit the ground, a whack from the crowbar meant only Remus stood back up.

“Janus, get down!” he shouted suddenly. Janus turned- there was one man still standing, and he had his gun leveled at Janus’ chest. Janus froze. A gunshot rang out.

Janus felt himself hit his mound of blankets. Remus had shoved him off the bed. Hesitantly, he peered up over the edge.

Remus had bowled the man over onto his back amid the sheets and now sat on top of him, a hand grasping at the exposed skin of his neck. The man, rather than struggling against Remus’ grip, was clutching at his own chest. He convulsed, then fell still.

Janus put a hand on the ground. There were no more in the apartment. He climbed up onto the bed.

“Remus?”

No response. Janus hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder. At the same time, Remus slumped forward and slid to the ground.

“Remus!” Janus cried out in alarm. He vaulted over the bed and crouched down next to Remus. There was blood soaking his shirt.

“Remus, fuck. Why’d you do that?” Janus hissed. He gathered Remus up into his arms and tried to put pressure on the wound. Remus gazed up at him with glassy eyes.

“I promised,” he said weakly. Janus looked down at him.

“What did you promise?” he asked, probably sounding a little hysterical. Remus gave him a gentle smile.

“I promised they’d never touch you again.”

A neighbor had heard the gunshot and called the police, which was just as well, because Janus had no idea how to work Remus’ phone. The police had come and whisked Remus off to the hospital in an ambulance. Virgil came to take Janus back to the agency so that he wouldn’t be left alone in what had now become a crime scene. Janus made sure to bring his pale yellow blanket, the first one Remus had given him.

The investigation that followed revealed the intruders to be the extra names Logan had been searching for, and had returned to try and reclaim Janus before leaving town. With this, Logan could finally put the case to rest.

Remus was fine. When Janus was finally allowed to see him a few days later, he had just grinned and said, “Still not as bad as that time Virgil hit me with his truck.” Janus was not amused.

With the investigation closed, the agency could release Janus to be evaluated. Everyone gathered in Logan’s office to wait anxiously.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Roman said in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring tone. It did nothing to soothe Remus’ frayed nerves.

“Yeah, but what if something goes wrong, like they spook him or something-”

“If he can tolerate Princey randomly belting out Disney songs, he can tolerate anything,” Virgil scoffed. Roman glared. Patton stifled a giggle. Remus opened his mouth to reply, but in that moment, the door opened. Logan stepped into the office- behind him came Janus.

“...Well?” Remus asked impatiently. His eyes were fixed on Janus.

Janus glanced toward Logan. Logan gave a slight nod, and a smile spread across Janus’ face.

“I’m free to go.”

Remus sprang up and engulfed Janus in a hug. Janus clung to him tightly, and his tears of joy soaked Remus’ chest.

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Note

hey lina!! happy four years and may your blog continue growing and for you to keep producing amazing works!!

i was wondering for your drabble requests, can i ask for yunho+yellow with the title “sunshine meets sunflowers”? congrats again for hitting four years!! 💞

hi love!! thank you so much for your kind words and for this request, it's so cute <3 I hope you enjoy it!

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

ok looking back gina, this was so much fun to write - thank you thank you THANK YOU for requesting it!!!

Title: Sunlight Meets Sunflowers

Pairing: Yunho x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Triggers: none

Some days feel like they're caving in on you, the sky crashing to pieces on your head and slamming you down every time you try to get up. It hurts - those moments when you almost forget to pick Yuna up from school and have to make a frantic U-turn to get to the school, those moments where you're behind in work and can feel the looks of your coworkers searing into your back even if they don't exist as you frantically try to catch up after a late night spent trying to get your daughter to go to sleep.

You love her. You love her to the ends of the earth, your beautiful sunflower with the loveliest petals and shining face - more than once, you've held her in your arms and sworn to any being listening in the heavens that you would do anything to keep her safe. But you're only one person tackling a job meant for two, and sometimes, the nourishment you can provide your sunflower's roots just doesn't feel enough.

Because a flower can't only bloom with soil and water and nutrients. A sunflower, especially. It's in the name - the blooms follow the sun from east to west, tracing its path across the sky, and if there isn't enough sun...

The flower won't survive.

You do your best. When the petals begin to wilt with sickness or tiredness or just a little pout on your sunflower's lips, you do your best to soothe them, to help them recover their previous brightness. Sometimes it's hard, though - you can feel yourself wilting on the inside with every day that passes, and sometimes even Yuna's giggles and smiles and shouts of "Look what I just did!" can't fully soothe the knot of exhaustion growing in your chest. It’s not enough, you think, whatever you provide isn’t enough for a growing girl who needs more than it feels like you can give her -

Then you spill coffee all over yourself and another poor man at seven in the morning in the cafe just down the street, and that's how you meet the sun.

Yuna avoids all the mess - she was on your other side and thank god for that, or coffee would've stained her clothes and that would've been a nightmare to sort out - and by the time you've found the napkins you always keep at the bottom of your bag, she's already chattering away with him about the new dress she's wearing, the dress that's pink and purple and oh, Mr. person whose name I don't know, isn't it pretty?

It takes a lot for you to not scream into your hands at the moment, though the urge to scream is less out of frustration than sheer embarrassment - the man, whose name you don't know yet, is awfully handsome and has been listening to your daughter so attentively with a lovely smile on his face, so he gets double the bonus points for that. But he's laughing and complimenting her dress, and as he takes the napkins you hand over in apology, he introduces himself as Jung Yunho.

"I want to see Mr. Yunho again," Yuna announces as the three of you step out of the cafe, you having paid for a second drink to make up for the one Yunho lost. "Can I? Please?"

You cast him an apologetic look. "That depends on what he says, sweetie," you say, trying to figure out how to word this so that she won't cry. "I -"

"It's alright." Yunho says, and even though the sky is gray and covered in clouds, the smile on his face makes you feel like the sun is shining down on your skin. "I'd be happy to see her again." His smile turns a little sheepish. "She's adorable."

"Oh," is all you can manage at first, taken aback both by his willingness to give in to your daughter's demands and the fluttering feeling in your chest. "I - that would be nice, if it isn't too much trouble for you -"

"It's no trouble at all." Yunho looks down at Yuna, then back at you with that same smile never leaving his lips. "If you’d like, we can meet here again next week?"

The coffee shop becomes the regular place where you meet with the sun, letting the rays of his smile spread over your sunflower as she chatters away about anything and everything all at once. And as the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months...

You might say that with every time Yunho reminds you that you’re doing well, that Yuna loves you so much and that you’re enough for her, the dull ache in your chest has begun to heal, too.

Slowly, Yunho integrates himself into your and Yuna's lives, first as a passing acquaintance, then as a friend, then as something other than a friend, someone who sometimes stays into the late hours and refuses to take your bed when you insist he spend the night, opting instead for the couch that's much too small for his body. You alternate days for picking Yuna up from school. You sometimes stay over at his apartment. Yuna calls Yunho "Papa” on accident, again on accident, and then on purpose, again and again and again -

"Papa!" you hear Yuna yell from inside the apartment as you climb up the stairs after a long day at work, exhaustion weighing down your feet. But with the shout and the ensuing muffled giggles, you feel lighter and lighter with every step you take until you're just outside the door and can hear the chaos inside more clearly than ever.

The keys jingle in your hand as you pick out the right one to insert in the lock. You open the door, shut it behind you, and -

A shriek of delight sounds in the next room just before your sunflower comes bounding into your arms, before you even have the chance to take off your shoes. "You're home!"

"Yes, I am, sunflower." You kiss her forehead. "Did you miss me?"

"We both did." The sun appears next to the sunflower, kissing your forehead when you turn to him.

Holding your sunflower and being held by your sun, warmth blooms in your chest and you almost feel like you could fly, past the sky and past the clouds, light, free, ready to face anything in the world so long as you have them by your side.

You smile, and if there's a tear in your eye, neither of them says anything. "I missed you too."

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Note

hello i have fallen i love with your charlie fic (❤❤!!) and i want to ask if you could you write some angst where barnaby has a crush on mc and they're super oblivious and later they start dating someone else ans barnaby realizes he lost them?

My dearest anon, let me say: I AM SORRY. Writing your ask took me forever (literally, lol) even though I had it in my head the moment I got your asks all those months ago. But I never felt the right inspiration to actually write it down until today. Today it just hit me. I do hope you're actually still around and reading what I made out of it.

I'm really truly sorry. 😅

So, without further ado, I present to you:

Missed Chances

Barnaby Lee x Reader

Barnaby Lee wasn’t the smartest kid around.

He was by no means dumb, he just wasn’t as clever or booksmart as most of his peers, a fact he was well aware of. But it didn’t bother him that much, really. He had found his means of getting by during classes and ever since distancing himself from Merula Snyde back in their third year, he had been able to gather a circle of friends around him he could fall back upon.

There was popular Penny Haywood for Potions, shy but gifted Ben Copper for Charms, and ever so patient Rowan Khanna when he had troubles with Transfiguration.

Barnaby’s favourite study sessions, however, were those for Defense Against The Dark Arts. Not because he was particularly bad at the subject; on the contrary, he was a skilled duelist and most charms and jinxes came naturally to him. No, the real reason those lessons were his favourite was because it was you who was teaching him.

Ever since he’d been drawn into your close circle of friends, his above average DADA marks had been plummeting, since he kept getting distracted during class. The professors weren’t impressed but neither surprised at his apparent lack of academic skills and under normal circumstances, Barnaby would have tried everything in his power to prove them wrong, that he could do better, that he wasn’t as stupid as everyone made him out to be.

But when you offered your help in catching up on the subject, Barnaby had changed his mind. You were always top of your DADA class and what better way to spend some time alone with you while listening to your beautiful voice explaining the differences between a curse and a hex.

Barnaby knew most of the things you were telling him already, so he had ample time to just watch you talk during your study sessions. He knew no one else could get so excited over dark creatures and cursed objects like you did. The way your eyes were sparkling when lecturing him on the differences between a werewolf and regular wolf had him enthralled every single time and the proud smile you gave him when he answered one of your questions correctly never failed to make Barnaby’s heart beat hard in his chest.

He would have loved to see that smile more often, but he made sure to let his real knowledge of the subject shine through sparingly. He was afraid that if he got too good, you might want to drop studying with him and that was something he couldn’t risk; spending time with you had become the highlight of his day. No one he knew rivalled the warmth you radiated and the unbroken faith you had in him, a sentiment that was completely new to Barnaby.

When the big news of the Celestial Ball was announced, it was all his peers could talk about. What to wear, how to look and who to bring were the questions dominating all of the four common rooms.

Barnaby never had to think twice who he wanted to be his date for the dance. He thought about how to properly ask you out for days on end; you were no common girl after all. You were the most extraordinary girl he knew and thus deserved an extraordinary invitation. But when he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, you looked at him sheepishly.

“That’s so sweet of you, Barney. I’m so flattered, really. But I already promised Rowan and Ben to go with them. You know, just as friends.”

His heart sank at the words. Why hadn’t he acted sooner? Maybe people were right about him being stupid after all.

Seeing his disheartened look, your face changed into something softer. “But I’m sure Rowan and Ben wouldn’t mind if you came along with us? As another friend?”

Barnaby beamed at her. “I’d love that. We’re going to have such a great time together, as friends,” he added, not quite sure whom he wanted to reassure, you or himself.

He would probably never forget the night of the Celestial Ball when he saw you in the dress André Egwu had designed for the first time. Rowan and Ben had arrived at the ball before you and when you stepped into the Great Hall all on your own, Barnaby’s breath stopped for a moment.

You were dressed in a beautiful, burgundy dress with intricate patterns embroidered around the neckline. Your waist was accentuated by a small belt and the skirt of your dress flowed around you in several layers of fabric. You looked like an ethereal being to him as you walked through the crowd over to him, Rowan and Ben, your skirt trailing slightly behind you.

His eyes didn’t leave you for the whole evening even for a second. He could hear you laughing when you danced with Rowan and Ben, the sound like silver bells to his ears. When he asked you for a dance with him, your hand just happened to fit perfectly into his and your bright smile made Barnaby forget everything else around you and him. He did take great care to not step on your dress, however. You looked so perfect, he didn’t want to ruin it with his own clumsiness; although he pretty much doubted anything could have taken away from your beauty.

When the Celestial Ball was over, Barnaby took the chance to walk you back to your common room. You had your arm linked with his and marched in step with him. As he was taller than you, it required some effort on your part, the strange walking rhythm making you giggle. The sound had Barnaby’s heart beat faster.

Barnaby was almost reluctant to let you go when you had reached the concealed entrance to your common room. He wasn’t quite sure what to do; all he wanted to do was put his arms around you, drawing you as close to him as possible and never letting go again. But he hesitated; what if you didn’t feel the same?

To gain some time, he cleared his throat. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Me too,” you smiled at him. “I’m glad you came along. You just have the most fun with your friends, right?”

The word ‘friends’ put a damper on the butterflies that had been swarming in Barnaby’s stomach until this point.

“Yes, friends,” he echoed, “because we’re friends.”

A look of confusion crossed your face for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am,” Barnaby lied quickly, glad that the flickering light of the torches hid the blush spreading on his cheeks. “Just exhausted from dancing, I guess.”

“Oh, alright. I’d better get to my common room then. Good night.”

There was a short, awkward pause, before you smiled at him, waved and vanished into your common room. Barnaby sighed; at least for night, he had definitely botched his chances.

Ever since the Celestial Ball and the anticlimax of its ending, Barnaby had made it his mission to convince you there was more to him than being your friend. He’d ventured into the library on his own and gathered together all books on romance he could find and read every single one of them. Most of them, especially the older ones, had given him quite some headaches, but he knew you enjoyed reading old love stories, so maybe they had some useful information to offer. How someone could spend their free time reading things like Jane Austen for fun, however, remained a mystery to him.

And apparently, the tips he had sourced weren’t that helpful either. Barnaby tried it all, he complimented you, he brought you flowers and small gifts that reminded him of you and tried connecting with you over things he knew you loved. Whenever he saw the chance to ask you out he tried. But as soon as he had gathered his courage, you had already promised one of your numerous friends to go with them instead. It was exasperating, really.

All the while, the study sessions with you continued. Barnaby had stopped pretending to be as oblivious as he made himself out to be in the beginning; he knew it was risky, in case you might want to drop studying with him if he got better, but he was too addicted to your smile at this point. No matter how hard his day had been, a smile from you and everything else was forgotten.

Barnaby wished you would finally notice just how much he adored you, but as long as he could spend time with you, listen to your voice and hear your laughter, everything was fine with him.

Until it was not.

He had noticed you were distracted lately and not as talkative as he was used to. Today’s Potions class was no exception. Professor Snape, who was even moodier than usual, was lecturing the class on the importance of knowing potion recipes by heart.

“You will not always carry a textbook with you,” he droned, “and while I wouldn’t trust half of you to brew a potion even with proper instructions, maybe some of you will be able to produce something remotely resembling a proper concoction by sheer luck. If I see one piece of parchment on the table, you will clean your classmates’ cauldrons after class. Begin.”

Dreading the next two hours of guessing which ingredients to use in what order, Barnaby glanced over to you. But you hadn’t been listening to the instructions, it seemed. Your attention was focused on a piece of parchment in front of you, hastily scribbled lines running across it. Barnaby tried catching a glimpse but when you noticed, you blushed deeply and quickly covered the parchment with your hand.

Barnaby, however, wasn’t the only one who had noticed the piece of parchment. Before you could do anything, Professor Snape had appeared next to you and snatched the parchment out of your grip.

“I thought I said no notes allowed, or didn’t I express myself clearly enough for your convenience?” he snarled.

“No, Professor, you misunderstand,” you gasped, “these aren’t Potions notes, it’s private. Can I please have it back?”

You reached for it, but Snape jerked his hand up so it was just out of reach. “That gives it even less reason to be present in my classroom,” he said coldly, a cruel smile stealing onto his face. “Let us share with the rest of the class what is distracting you from my lesson.”

Your cheeks were glowing bright red as Snape started reading the content of your note.

“Do you like me? Yes or No. Circle your answer,” he read out loud. “How droll,” he sneered over the chuckle of your classmates, “I suggest, next time you concentrate more on your potion and less on your silly personal bearings. Perhaps the result will be more decent then. 10 points from you and detention tonight.”

As he swept past your table, Barnaby noticed your hanging head. You had your hands clasped tightly together in your lap and seemed so small all of a sudden that he felt furious. Even though Snape was his head of house, he had no right whatsoever to embarrass you in front of everyone like that.

“Are you okay?” he asked you gently.

Not looking at him, you shook his head. “Why did he have to do that?” you whispered. “He could see I wasn’t taking notes. There was no need to read it out loud.”

“There wasn’t,” Barnaby agreed. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and lightly placing his hand on your arm. “He’s just a big, old, mean bat. Everyone says so.”

You sniffed, a small smile already spreading on your face again. “That’s true. Thank you.” You covered his hand with yours and squeezed it lightly. The touch sent jolts of energy through Barnaby from where your hands connected. His skin was still tingling when you turned towards your cauldron again, breaking the contact.

“Who was your note for, anyway?” Barnaby asked, trying not to sound as if this wasn’t the question burning red hot on his mind.

You looked at him wide-eyed. “I can’t possibly tell you.”

“Why not? Do I know him?”

Blushing again, you could only nod before dropping your gaze.

“It’s someone I’ve been friends with for a while now, but I don’t know if he feels the same. I don’t want to ruin our friendship by making a stupid move.”

Barnaby held his breath. You couldn’t possibly be talking about him, could you?

“How could it ruin your friendship?” he asked. “If he’s your friend, he’s your friend and nothing can change that.”

He took a deep breath. “Maybe you should just tell him,” he said deliberately casually, “who knows, maybe that friend of yours has been feeling the same for some time now, too.”

You looked up at him in surprise. “You think so?”

Barnaby nodded in agreement. “Definitely. Just try your luck, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

After the class was over and you had parted ways for the rest of the day, Barnaby counted the minutes until the evening when you had agreed to meet for another study session before your detention. He was positively bouncing with energy ever since lunchtime. You had come over to him with a nervous smile on your lips to ask him to meet up with you later.

“Chances are, I’ll need to tell you something,” you had said with a shaky laugh before joining your other friends for lunch. Barnaby had swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to look unfazed, but his insides had been burning with impatience ever since.

That was why he had arrived earlier than usual at the library that evening. He picked all the books out you would be needing and stacked and restacked them several times at the table you were usually working on.

It felt like an eternity until you finally entered the library, each second dragging into an eternity of its own. Barnaby saw you first. You stood in the entrance to the grand room and all of a sudden the library seemed to be a little brighter just by you being there. You scanned the rows of bookshelves with your eyes and a wide smile appeared on your face as they fell on him, waiting for you between books and quills in your favourite spot.

You quickly bounded over to him, a spring in your step that was a stark contrast to the miserable mood you had been in this morning. Before Barnaby even had a chance to ask what made you so happy, you had flung your arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

On instinct, Barnaby put his arms around your waist and held you for a sweet moment that he wished would last forever. He could smell the flowery scent of your perfume and breathed it in deeply, trying to commit every last detail of how you felt in his arms to memory. He was sure you had to feel his heartbeat; how could you not with how hard it was hammering against his ribcage?

“He said yes, Barney! He really said yes!” you squealed, not caring one bit about Madam Pince’s indignant shush.

The sheer happiness coursing through his veins turned into ice that froze him from the inside in a matter of seconds. Confused, he loosened his hold on you and pushed you far enough away from him to look you in the face. The joy visible on it almost broke his heart.

“What?”

“My crush!” you beamed at him. “I followed your advice and asked him out, just now! And he said yes!” you repeated, hugging him again.

“You’re the first person I wanted to tell,” you said. Barnaby could feel your breath on the skin exposed by the open collar of his shirt. He hated himself for the shiver running down his spine.

“Why?” was all he managed to whisper in response.

“Because without you, I’d never have the courage to talk to him upfront. It’s all thanks to you that I have a date now. You’re really the best friend I could ask for.”

Every word you spoke was like a dagger pushed up to the hilt into his broken heart, every second he saw you smile at the prospect of going out with the boy you wanted to be with - the boy that wasn’t him - a twist of the blade until he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. His heart, that had beaten so wildly just moments before when he had held you in his arms, could have stopped beating right there and then; Barnaby doubted it would have felt much different to the consuming emptiness he felt at this very moment.

You were rambling on and on about where you wanted to take your date and what you would wear but Barnaby wasn’t listening. He didn’t even know who you were talking about; all he knew was that it wasn’t him and that thought was louder in his head than your words could ever be.

“What do you think of that?”

Barnaby realised you had come to the end of your explanations and expected an opinion from him. He forced himself to smile apologetically at you, when all he wanted to do was scream.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” he croaked out.

Your brow creased. “Are you okay? You’re so pale all of a sudden.”

“I’m good,” Barnaby answered with a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and started again. “I’m good, I just caught a cold, I think. I should go see Madam Pomfrey later.”

You made a sceptical sound and raised one eyebrow. “If you say so. So what do you think? Is Madam Puddyfoot’s Tea Shop a good idea or not?”

Barnaby had never heard of this tea shop before, but he’d go to Knockturn Alley for a date if it only was with you. “It doesn’t matter where you take him. He’s lucky he gets to go with someone like you in the first place.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

“I’m just happy you’re happy,” Barnaby said and even meant it, in a way. He just wished the source of your happiness was him and not somebody else.

You hugged him once again and he was glad that you couldn’t see the pained expression crossing his features for a moment. “You’re the best, Barney. I’m so glad to have you in my life.”

You let go and turned towards the table laden with books Barnaby had so carefully set up. “Shall we?”

He sat down with you and watched as you started taking out your notes on objects cursed with minor jinxes. Your eyes were sparkling even more than usual and even now, you were so beautiful to Barnaby it hurt.

With a sigh, he concentrated on what you had to say for a change. His time spent daydreaming about you was over for good now, so he might as well do what the two of you were here for and study.

No, Barnaby Lee wasn’t the smartest kid around.

But even he knew that when it came to you, he had missed too many chances.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #barnaby lee #anon ask #fun fact #this is exactly what happened in game for my mc lizzie #went to the celestial ball with barnaby #and ditched him afterwards #whoops #and for talbott of all people #because yknow #that old let us date the quidditch kids discussion #but we're not getting into that now

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latenightdecaf · 3 years

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moodboard sr: x x x

Entry 4 – Alcohol Buzz and Good Company

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader Ft. nonidol!bts Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi slow burn romance, slice of life series of drabbles/one shots warning: alcohol consumptions. please kids, don’t drink and drive.

a/n: I got a little carried away on this cause I miss my friends and some good company. probably the longest one so far. I hope you all like it.

Word count: 2,156

After staring at the ceiling for hours cause of work, you got a call from your best friend asking you to hurriedly come into her apartment. And as much as you hate going out, you were ready within ten minutes, all bundled up with huge scarf and leather jacket and less than thirty minutes later, you pulled over Haneul’s apartment.

“Hey! You’re here! Just leave your jacket by my room. People are coming in soon.” Standing by her front door, “People? Like more than 3?” She knows you; you never would’ve come if she said it’ll be a party. She walked with you towards the kitchen, hands on your waist and your arms over by her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s just Taehyung and couple more people. It won’t be big I promise.” Assuring you but you turned to her with a sour look on your face. “You called me up for this?” You pulled the stool by her kitchen counter, tiptoeing and stretching your arms to reach for the tequila bottle. Shot glass ready, you poured yourself one to start with. “Oh shoot I forgot the lemon and salt.” You talked to yourself as your best friend disappeared into her bedroom. You roamed around the kitchen prepared all the lemon and salt you’ll ever need for the night. When Taehyung and a bunch of other people just casually came in.

* People are starting to come but to your surprise it still wasn’t as too much as you expected, which is good. Couple of acquaintances have come and said hi and small talks over their beer and you still sticking with your tequila. After a while, exhausted over a bunch of small talks and feeling that alcohol buzz. You huffed yourself up and sat at the kitchen counter dangling your feet and just staring at it. When a boy came to you with sleeve tattoo in his arms, beer on hand and called you, “Noona.”

You looked at him intently not sure who he is and with a blank expression on your face. You replied, “Noona who?” Still dangling your legs playfully. “You.” “Me?” Still confused, wondering who in the world is this boy. You asked, “I’m sorry you are..?” He came in closer with a hurt expression on his face leaning on the kitchen counter a few inches away from you. “Jk, we met earlier. I’m Taehyung hyung’s…” Cutting him off as you vaguely remembered, “Ah yeah, the singer! Sorry.” You smiled apologetically. “Why are you here alone, Noona?” You laughed as you heard the word ‘Noona’ again. “Dude come on, i’m just at least a year or two older than you… probably. You’re can’t be that young, so we’re basically friends. No need for that, you can just call me by my name. If you don’t remember, you can just call me “hey” that’ll do either.” He laughed softly at your remarks and drank his beer.

You hopped off the kitchen counter, poured you and Jk a shot if tequila. Clinking your glass together, making sour faces after licking off some salt on top of your hand and Jk choosing lemon this time. When Haneul walked in the kitchen, looking for you.

“Hey, I knew you’d be here. Hi, Jk!” As she leaned by the counter top beside you two. You looked at your best friend, eye squinting from all the booze consumed and asked, “You know that I’m drunk and all, so you’ll probably forgive me for this question. But what in the world is the deal with you and Taehyung?!” Raising your voice towards the end for emphasis. She laughed. “What do you mean what is the deal with us? Nothing.” You gave her a shot of tequila to drink. “So its purely sexual then?” She barfed, spilling over the tequila you just offered. Jk finding himself getting caught in the middle of all this, just grabbed a tissue and helped her clean. “Yes and no.” Haneul finally answered. You raised an eyebrow but no longer wanting to pry. “I just don’t want you kids regretting these decisions, okay? I don’t want to be caught up in the middle of all these. I tell you now. I love you both, so it’s either you stop your shenanigans and just stay friends or you declare love and the shenanigans shall continue.” They both laughed at your comment. Jk who is now somehow involved in this conversation asked, “But do you like him? Like you feel butterflies when you see him?” You smiled and drank another shot of tequila at such innocent notion. “Aigoo, young one. You really think it’s all butterflies and unicorns huh.” You said to Jk while mockingly tapping on his shoulder. To your surprise, Haneul answered. “I do like him.” With all seriousness in her tone while holding her empty shot glass in hand. Shocked and probably really drunk, you immediately hugged your best friend. “I am so sorry, Haneul. Taehyung is just the worst guy to fall into.” You said while still hugging her, laughing and crying at your statement. You pulled away to reach for your almost empty bottle of tequila and Haneul playing along and fake crying. “Come on, love. Let’s just drink your feelings away. I’ve been friends with the guy for a long time, the man doesn’t know what love is.” Haneul took another shot of tequila from you and said “I know.” Jungkook drinking his bottle of beer empty asked, “And do you?” Looking at this guy in disbelief, blinking several times you asked, “And do I what? Know what love is?” You raised your eyebrow at the end. He nodded innocently. You paused before you answered. “No I don’t either. I need some air.” You declared and grab both of them by their arms, Jungkook hopping off the kitchen counter. Taking both of them with you outside and when you three did, it was raining. Both arms intertwined in each of your friend’s, as you three looked all peacefully at the rain. “Make the rain stop, young one!” Tugging over Jungkook’s tattooed arm. He laughed. “I can’t do that, Noona.” “What?! But I heard you can do anything…” Looking at him curiously. “That I can’t do. You want me to sing instead?” Jungkook jokingly offered. “Don’t, you’re going to make her cry.” Pertaining to Haneul who now looks so solemn while looking at the rain with your right arm around her shoulder and her head resting on yours.

Muffled house music in the background along with the sound of the rain. “I’m afraid you’re one of us now, Young one.” You said to Jungkook. And he looked over to the both of you and smiled. “I don’t mind. I like you two.” “Thanks. Okay you may now sing.” You jokingly said and Haneul elbow jabbed you by your rib. “I’m just kidding!!” You took it back immediately. And you three laughed. You’re glad you went to this party despite the exhausting small talks. You’re glad it distracted you from work. You’re glad, you have good people in your life.

“Love, I’m sorry—but real talk, you gotta sort things out with Taehyung. I love the man, but you know he doesn’t do relationship or any form of commitment. You’re just setting yourself up for heartache.” You said as you comfort your best friend. “I know, I’ll sort it out I promise.” Wiping her tears and looking up to you. “Good girl.” You pat her head lightly. “Brave girl.” Jungkook said and extended his arms to wrap you both in a group hug.

After a while you all went inside and rest Haneul into her bed.

On your way out of her bedroom you casually bumped into her door frame, holding on to your shoulder and punching lightly that door frame for bumping into you. Jk who is right behind you said laughing, “Noona you’re drunk.” Still holding onto your shoulder, pouting and with furrowed eyebrows you replied “No I’m not, also I’m not Noona.”

Putting your jacket on and looking for your keys by the pockets. Jk said, “Why don’t I drive you home?” not looking up and still looking for your keys you answered, “Why don’t you go ahead, young one.” “Noona, your keys.” He lift your left hand up with keys and and your phone together. You grinned. “Well there it is!” Jungkook just scratched his head.

You looked at your new found friend to gently assure him, hand on his shoulder and said, “Young one, I live exactly 8 stop lights away from here. All I have to do is go straight, and on the 8th stop light, turn left right into my building. Now, I promise—I promise, I promise not to doze off in the between those stoplights. Not that I haven’t tired but the sound of those honking cars literally woke up.” Your last sentence, made his eye grew. But you continued, “Now don’t you worry okay? Take care of Haneul and Taehyung for me cos I gots to go.” And you turned your back and heard him say, “But noona…” You waved him good bye.

* It’s not the safest and you know that, Joon always hates it when you still insist on driving even after having a drink. But you love driving, once you’re in your car—holding the steering wheel it sobers you up but you know it’s still not an excuse. You try not to do it anymore but tonight is just one of those nights you said to yourself. Minutes later you were already parking your car carefully, not to hit your roommate’s and after a long while as you keep feeling dizzier, you were able to park. Maybe Yoongi will just have a hard time getting in his car but you’ll just say sorry in the morning.

You can already feel your headache coming in as soon as you stepped out of the car. Walking towards the stairs, without noticing that the steel staircase is wet due to the rain you continued climbing up and eventually slipping forward. Your right knee landed in first and your forehead second. You eventually caught yourself up to sit and cry in pain. Rubbing your knees and your forehead and removing your shoes to continue climbing up the stairs. And tightly holding onto the railings and into your apartment. You continue crying in pain as your fall made your head ache even more. You walked inside your pitched dark apartment, waving over the ceiling light and your motion sensor light up front doesn’t seem to be working. So, you put down your shoes, went inside and tripped over to what apparently is Yoongi’s shoes. And you landed on your knees again that caused a loud thud and made you yell in pain. Holding on to your knees again, lying on the floor by the door as you cry silently in pain.

You sigh in your misery. Yoongi who also just got home 20 mins before you, got out of the bathroom in his pajamas and saw you lying in the hallway while you hug your knees. He opened the lights by the hallway, drying his hair with a towel and he looked at you all puzzled.

“Hey, are you drunk?” You didn’t even looked up, you just kept hugging your knees and said, “Yoongi-ah, the front door light isn’t working.” “I’ll fix it in the morning.” Closing the bathroom door, he’s still looking at you by the hallway. “Are you planning on sleeping there?” You let out a loud sigh and gathered all the will to get up. Feeling a thousand times dizzier, you are literally seeing 5 of Yoongi. Together with the pain in your knees. You hold on by the wall and ever so slowly walked towards your room. “What happened to your forehead?” Yoongi asked as you walked past by him, still holding onto the walls. You didn’t even stop in his comment. You just continued walking slowly because if you did, you might cry—and you don’t want to cry in front of him. He caught up with you and said, “Are you okay?” Your eyes are already red, you just nodded and said, “Yeah I’m fine.” Entering your bedroom and closing the door.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts fluff #bts imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #bts roommates au #roommate!yoongi #friend!jungkook

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