#again its the way neither of them EVEN FLINCHED ugh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-mc-yt · 3 years

Note

y’ALL TRYNNA MAKE ME SIN 😩😩😩 I just wanna ask you to write out that prompt with psychic darling, techno and chat soooooo bad because it looks so rndmdjskdjdj 🤌🏾 ✨perfect✨ kdndkdkdkdjdjdjd not me having a brainrot 💀☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

It's okay! Lets have brainrot together! Also I hope Techno isn't too ooc, I just think he'd be really repressed and awkward in these kind of situations lmao.

Thermae

Technoblade & Mind Reader GN!Reader

Warnings: Yandere Themes, obsessiveness, delusions mentioned, disassociation(?), kidnapping mentioned, Stockholm syndrome implied, animalistic behavior, NSFW, dubcon, size difference, unsafe sex, rough sex, mild painful sex, body worship implied, praise kink, retracted consent, ruined orgasm(?), humiliation kink(?), sex with an audience(?), ooc(?), idk canon inaccuracies probably, gn!deader

♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡

pretty!!

EEE E E

shut the hell up some of us want to hear techno think

lovenoblade? technolover? FUCK what are we calling him when he stares at them like that??

shut uuuup

You don't look up from pile of clean clothes you're sifting through, trying to pick out what to wear after your bath. Technoblade staring at you from where he is by the door, not having made a move since he allowed you to enter the room. At least he isn't speaking-

You dropped some rolled up socks. It rolled under the bed and you get on your hands and knees to reach under the bed for it. Suddenly Technoblade is behind you and you yelp cutely-

Suddenly you're moaning softly and bent over on the bed. Your captor's lover's hand is on your hips and he's grinding against you. Your underwear is somehow soaked through and you're whining for Techno to take you. He swiftly tugs off your underwear and-

You look up at Technoblade, who looks back at you, acknowledging your attention. You looked cross. "Just because you're not thinking in words, doesn't mean I can't see what you think, Techno."

OOOOOO

oh noooo lmao

LOL imagine getting caught like that couldn't be us

rip

damn I wanted to see how bad this fantasy would have been

"Sorry-"

"Sorry," Techno says out loud as he takes his eyes off of you. You sigh as you toss the clothes yoy want onto the bed and stuff the rest back into the drawers. You'll fix that later if he doesn't get to it first. At least he had the gall to feel some bit of shame.

You turn your body to him and shrug. "It's whatever.... let's just go take a bath before bed."

You ignore how another brief flash of lewd thoughts and fantastical scenarios pass through his mind as you move past him towards the bathroom he had built for you. You also ignore the teasing from the Chat about how the piglin hybrid's home definently didn't have a place to bathe before and that he is a "stinky pig boy" and "stinknoblade". You didn't want to thank him but you felt like you had no choice because honestly.... he made you a custom bathroom that looked like it belonged in a palace. It had felt rude not to thank him, despite these circumstances.

You inhale the steam of the luxious looking bathroom and put your clothes down on a small side table near the massive walk in tub of hot water. You had moved over to the edge and was going to take off your shirt when the anxious boot clacking of your keeper reminded you that you were unfortunately not alone. You click your tongue back at him as you glance back at him. He looks away like he always does and you practically rip your clothes off before getting in.

He looks again when he doesn't hear the water sloshing around anymore. His expression is unreadable but you can hear what he's thinking.

"So pretty lovely looks soft smells good fuck- cute.... I wonder if you'll like the soap I got this time. Its peonies."

You hum as you sink a bit lower in the water, trying to hide your coloring cheeks.

"Yeah, I think peonies smell good." Technoblade makes a face and you have to swallow your smile. "Thanks- now get in here. I want this to be over with."

He nods mutely as he starts to undress and this time its your turn to look away. You sigh as you feel the water move and flinch when you feel his heat on your backside. He isn't even touching you yet.

ugh why is he waiting for permission again

lol whats with the gentleman act

dude they're literally already used you doing this get it over with

y'all better shut up this is like character development or something

i wanna touch they look all soft agaiiin

oooo yea!! touch them

Omgeee body worship kink??

touch them

TOUCH THEM

You let out a shaky sigh and turn around and make eye contact. He has the soap in one hand and the sponge you like in the other. You stand up in the water and exposed yourself to him. Its incredible difficult to ignore the way his pupils dialate when you're still making eye contact.

HOLY COW

isn't it too warm in here for (Y/N)'s nipples to get hard??

NAKED POG

oh my god You know they're practically begging for it now....

Techno swallows audibly and practically slams the bar of soap into the sponge, making an audible wet noise and aggressively lathers them together, looking away again. It makes you jump a bit but you don't say anything. Neither of you do and you almost prefer it that way. Once the sponge has been violently soaped up enough he starts washing you. You don't move and he doesn't stop on any part pf your upper half. It made you think of those old erotic stories of royalty being bathed by a personal servant. You didn't like it.

.....Right now you really wish you two were capable of being normal. Or that any part of your relationship was.

After your front and back have been scrubbed down, you quickly dip back into the water amd rinse yourself off. You look down at your body in the water and hum as you see another fleeting fantasy go past Technoblade's mind.

You're touching him, hands simply on his chest and pressed close to him. You're looking up at him frightened anxiously for a moment before moving away and wading towards the little shelving around an edge in the bathing pool. You flush as you climb onto it and sit. You spread your legs-

You look up at him for a split moment before looking away. You feel shakey and sick, kind of like you're about to throw up. Your gut twists and you press your thighs together on instinct. Shit.

No.

"No-" You swallow as you completely turn your back to Techno. You hear the water move a bit as you assume he's straightening up, you know he's looking directly at you. He's thinking too fast for you to properly hear his thoughts and you refuse to tune into what the Chat is saying right now.

You need to think-

You're on top of him in one of his blouses. Its so big on you but you like it and you liked the way Techno looked at you when you wore it. Technoblade's hands were on your hip and you scoff becuase you didn't want it there. You flushed a bit and took one of them with your fingers and moved it underneath the blouse to your bare stomach. You could feel the way your lips stretched into a goofy smile when he somehow flushed darker than you and his pupils blew up. It actually made you laugh a little. It felt like a little victory. The hand still on your hip twitched.

"I uh..." You bite your lip between your grin. "I like it when your hands are here. They're so warm and they make me feel good sometimes."

He stares and you can hear his thoughts.

"... Makes me feel safe...... so please..."

You blink back the tears but can't stop the shudder and whimper that comes from that memory. Technoblade stands behind you as you realize where you are now. You're stand before the pool shelving and its like your stomach folds in on itself as you whine and stumble back in the water, bumping into him. You both flinch from the sudden skin to skin contact and you feel the overwhelming urge to start wailing.

Technoblade makes a noise as if he's taking a deep breath and you know its over. You pull away from him as soon as his has touches your shoulder, bumping roughly into the shelving. With a grimace, you climb up onto the shelving and spread your shakey legs.

You can't even catch his thoughts whwn he freezes up and the Chat roars.

Holyshitholyshit holySHIT

BRO???

ANOTHER WIN FOR THE HORNY THOUGHTS LETS GOOOOO

Fuck this is so hot what the fuck fuck babe

The cooler water that resides at the edges splash out of the tub and against your backside from the force of him moving so suddenly. Technoblade makes a noise as he hovers over you. His clawed hands grip the edges of the pool so hard you can hear the wood creak. He doesn't say anything as you try to meet his eyes. Visions of all the ways he wants to fuck you right here flash through his mind and it makes you want to close your legs. You end up pressing your thighs against his and you both gasp.

You bite your lip. "Soap." He blinks dumbly and you almost change your mind about all of this. "The scentless soap," you try to clarify. "I need to prep myself."

The Chat chatters loudly as Techno moved away. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath as he returns to the water and reslots himself between your legs. You take the bottle from him and try to get comfortable as he uncomfortably stares directly at your groin. Already used to this scenario, you tune him out as you pop the bottle open and pour the slick substance onto yourself. You then put the bottle to the side and slide your hand down.

This isn't the first time you've had to stretch yourself (especially since your sexual partner couldn't- not with those sharp fingertips) and far from the first time you've taken the Blade so your fingers slip in with little resistance. You shudder and remind yourself to hate how he ruined you as you skip adding a second finger and go straight for three.

You hear the creak of the wood on the edge of the pool again but ignore looking up or at Technoblade as you keep fingering yourself until you're sure you're done. As soon as your fingers were out, his cock was slapped against your inner thigh. You yelp and look up at him.

He looks down at you as he finally puts his hands on you. You hiss when he drags your ass against the shelving to pull you closer.

"Sorry-" he thinks before opening his mouth to say it out loud, but you interrupt him. You grab him by the forearm as he has your thighs and lean foward a bit, biting your lip. You suck in a breath before letting out a whine.

"Shut the fuck up- stop fucking thinking and fuck me baby."

Being so used to hearing other's people thoughts without tuning them out (even now in these current times with everything Technoblade this accursed SMP has put you through), you aren't prepared to be sp overwhelmed by whatever the hell happens in your captor's head that makes you blackout for a moment. Its like you blink and whatever sexually charged energy you had before is replaced with fear.

Somewhere in the milliseconds after you said those words, Technoblade pushed you back roughly against the shelving and the edge of the pool and was now almost balls deep inside of you. You feel the pain blossoming against the back of your head apart of your back and yelp when you feel him fill you up oh so fucking good.

Its too much.

"Tech-" You make an ugly noise as he thrusts deeper somhow. Fuck- too much.

Whatever you were trying to get out is lost on your tongue as he starts fucking into you with total abandon. Its so good and bad and great and uncomfortable and painful-

The force of his movements rocks you into the edges of the pool and makes the cooled off water splash around and hit you in the face. You've let go of his arms, instead trying to brace yourself against the shelving the best you can with no way to get a proper grip. All you can do is whine and gasp.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry fuck"

"(Y/N)," comes out in a growl and you whimper. You don't know when he leaned closer. Technoblade's tusk scratch the junction between your jaw and neck. You take this opportunity to grab onto him again and moan high.

He rocks hard into you and its so much better now- fuck you can feel every inch of him. It makes you pull yourself closer to him and sob.

"Techno- Techno Techno Techno," he groans low and licks a hot strip against your neck. You breifly wonder if he's licking sweat off or left over water that was dripping down from the bath you were having a few minutes ago. You don't wonder much longer as you feel the twist in your gut from earlier tighten. You sob again.

"No no no no no," you gasp as you hold on tighter and he gets rougher. "Fuck, Techno baby please please please..."

Miraculously, the beast hears your prayers but he doesn't slow down. He pulls back and pushes you away completely. You almost don't catch yourself against the pool's edge. He's still in you for amoment more before pulling out with a wince and you cry out.

You feel dissatisfaction start to replace the lust in your head but its quickly snuffed out when Technoblade grabs you and flips you over on the shelving. He shoves you hard onto your knees with your elbows over the edge as he reenters you from behind and you shout. The change in position, depth and temperature catch you completely off guard and interupts the flow. You don't feel as aroused as you were before. You're sore.

"T-Techno?" You try to turn around to look back at him but he hits something deep inside of you hard. You put a knuckle between your teeth. "Techno? Techno please it hurts now please Techno!"

He gets even rougher and you yelp when your knees hit the wall of the pool. A shadow is cast over you and water from Technoblade's body drips down onto you as he goes full throttle and rails you like this. Fuck.

"Techno Techno Techno please love-" you manage to get out before his thrusts take your voice away. You're belly feels warm again and you sob a bit defeated. You're heads clear again and you cry as your mind races. You can't hear his thoughts properly even now- too jumbled up in the midst of him borderline mindlessly fucking you. You however can hear the Chat clearly once again. It makes your gut twist disgustingly deliciously.

Fuck baby you're doing so good

while crying is sexy can you plz go back to making those cute noises k thanx

they're not enjoying it anymore don't be fucking rude :/

Roughnoblade /neg

(Y/N) oh poor baby they're crying!!

Techno you're being too rough damn bitch

hey you're okay love you're okay plz don't cry....

Gods we're so sorry but you DO look so fucking hot like this

fuck I bet you're going to bruise so nice

Yeah techno is going to be staring at them until they heal up lmao

You bite your lip and just take it until that twisted feeling snaps and you cum like this. Techno rides out your orgasm before you feel him get bigger (or you tightned in discomfort) and he spills into you. You whimper when he pulls out and you feel the hot cum start to slide out of you. Unfortunately for you, your lover doesn't leave you bent over the cold bathing pool's edge like that for howver long you wished to and readjusts your limp form before he finishes cleaning you. You sniffle as he takes ypu out of the water and bundles you up in the softest towel he has.

"It hurt." You said simply and Technoblade glances up at where he was now kneeling by your legs, helping you put on your underwear. He looked almost guilty.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

"G̸̨͍͍̮͙̝͍̲̾͆̌̅̓̾̕Ȏ̵̡̡̳̣̟͕͍͍̘̱͗͝͝Ô̸̪̯̰̅͗͠D̷̟̘̦͕̼͈̻̏͗̋̂̿̔̕͘," he thinks.

You wonder if he still hopes you don't hear him.

#anon ask #yandere technoblade #yandere dsmp #dsmp smut #dsmp smutshot

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Note

Okay so now that I've got brainrot in the extreme, you know that I have to ask about the one remaining outlier in the bathtime drabbles... Can we offer Unknown a bath? And just leave him to it, potentially, so we don't know what choice he makes. He needs to relax!!

Unknown hadn’t known what to do when he came back from the apartment with empty hands and empty pockets. There was nothing to prove that he had been worth the trouble that the Savior went for him, and he was left riddled with glass and scrapes all over his body.

He failed and it left him in a state of numbness he couldn’t wash away. His line went dead when he had been speaking to you, so you had been in the dark for hours without knowing where he was or if he was even alive.

When he returned, he didn’t know what he expected, He just shrugged off his jacket and let it sink against the ground, standing there in the doorway as his body lost all sense of time. He was safe again but he didn’t... know how to deal with anything that he’d just gone through.

Nobody told him about a bomb.

All he knew was that it was going to solve the problem. Needless to say, his body was still trembling and he didn’t know how to make it stop. It was like his mind was on fire but his body couldn’t move. He wasn’t existing but the rest of the world was. It was fast and slow.

You had found in standing there at some point, and that’s how he wound up in the bathroom. You had convinced him to take off his shirt but he really had no will to say anything at that point apart from gritting his teeth and feeling the sense of apathy wash over him.

He wasn’t afraid... he was wrong... he was detached. He was everything that he needed to be and why couldn’t his body fucking understand that?!

You took out as much of the glass as you could. He didn’t even flinch. He just let you sit there and try to rinse out his wounds and clean them with a warm rag. It was what he expected. It was what he knew to be true. You would always come for him like the good assistant you were, even if he was a shitty boss that had no idea how to claim his revenge.

Not when...

Ugh.

Neither of you said much to each other in this process, there was a few times when he saw the way that you were looking at him.

It didn’t feel like pity, which was something that would have upset him, no, it looked more like you truly had a pit of despair in your stomach as you tried to make sense of whatever you felt at the sight of him looking torn beyond repair. He didn’t hate that. You had to care about him as his assistant. You had to, you had to do that.

“Boss, you look like shit.”

A dry chuckle escaped him. “I feel like shit.”

“Would you... wouldn’t you like to take a bath, then? I don’t think you should be using your arm right now so I could... help you...” your voice was tentative as you’d spoken up, as if you were debating if you should say that. “I mean, if it was okay with you. I don’t have to. I can’t really patch you up but I got as much of the glass out as I could.”

He needed his arm, you weren’t wrong, but he didn’t need help... he didn’t need it, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want it. If you did that, he would be able to recoup and then destroy them. He could... be okay with that. He didn’t have to hate the idea.

As Unknown mulled over his answer, you seemed to take his lack of response as a “no”, but he caught you by the arm and shook his head. So, you decided to stay and help run in a bath. You didn’t overwhelm it or overload it... since there wasn’t a lot for you to use in this tiny room. It had only the basics involved in the madness.

So, you simply let the warm water run its fill up to the brim, and added in some of what remained of the good soap. He didn’t care about decency or anything of the like, but you still turned away when he got himself settled in the water as a basic boundary. You didn’t want to press any buttons, you weren’t that stupid to his responses.

You wound up sitting next to tub with your hands in your lap as he sat there, breathing in deeply and ignoring the stinging feeling that invaded his senses by the minute. Unknown was lost, that much he knew, but he wasn’t alone. That was what he feared most even if he craved being alone the most. You had this way about you that confused him.

He was so used to being alone... and having you around was starting to change him in ways that he didn’t understand. He didn’t hate it but there was something to be said by the way his hand slipped from the edge of the tub and came to rest right next to you, leaving you the chance to grasp his fingers if you wanted to hold them.

And you did, and you didn’t comment on how he squeezed your hand like it was a lifeline the second you did... nor did you think about how the way he sank under the water and hid the way his breath hitched. If he cried, you would never confirm nor deny to a single soul, but you did know one thing: Unknown felt safe no place but with you.

#hawkeryrd #anon #ask #mod kait #unknown #saeran choi #choi saeran #mm #mysme #mysticmessneger #mystic messenger #saeran #unknown mystic messenger #unknown mysme #OKAY HEATHENS YOU WANT HACKER BATH WATER #IT'S $404

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purrincess-chat · 2 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH34

Happy Friday! Here’s the next chapter of MDCSPR.

Previous First Next AO3

Chapter 34: Hey Look Ma, I Made It

“Hey, dude.”

Adrien blinked, turning away from his locker to find Nino standing behind him. His shoulders were stiff, and his hands played with the strap on his bag. Adrien straightened and cleared his throat.

“Hey, Nino.”

Their friendship had dwindled amidst all of the drama with Lila. The divide did put a strain on their relationship, and they hadn’t hung out together in months. Adrien didn’t blame Nino for taking Alya’s side. After all, Adrien had taken his girlfriend’s side too.

“I saw all the buzz about Marinette’s show. I think it’s a really awesome message she’s sending,” Nino said. “You two seem really solid.”

“Thanks. We all worked really hard on it,” Adrien replied.

Silence stretched between them, and Nino shifted his weight.

“Look, I know things have been mega weird between all of us lately, and I hate that. You’re my bro, and I just wanted you to know that hasn’t changed. I’m proud of you,” Nino said. “Whatever ends up being the right side, Marinette, Lila, neither, or both—you’re my best bud. I miss you.”

“Nino…” Adrien smiled. “I miss you too.”

Adrien held out an arm, and Nino pulled him into a tight embrace. To Adrien’s surprise, he really meant those words. He had missed Nino. When Marinette left, everything got turned on its head, and even the most solid friendships had been shaken.

Lila’s abilities extended far beyond just lies—she made people lose themselves, tangling them in her web until they became a shell of who they used to be. She’d done it to Marinette, Alya, even Adrien himself at one point. But they’d come out stronger, and Adrien knew Alya and the rest of the class would too. One day, they’d show the world what a liar Lila really was. The storms would pass, and everyone would find their way again. Until then, they’d keep pulling everyone to safety one by one.

♪♫♪ pov ♪♫♪

“Ugh! How hard is it to take a decent photo?” Audrey shouted.

Martin grimaced as he approached her office, peeking in to see her tossing aside photo after photo. Her assistant ducked out of the way of her tirade, placing a coffee on the desk.

“This dress is the headliner, and no one got a good photo for the magazine! Ridiculous! What do I pay you people for?” Audrey tossed another photo in the trash.

“Maybe we can find a model and do a shoot here at the office.” Her assistant suggested.

“Of course we can’t!” Audrey said. “This is the front page we’re talking about, not some scripted column piece. The photo must be from the show. Get more photos, or you’re fired!”

“But you already have all of the photos from our photographers.” Her assistant flinched when Audrey spun around on her.

Only then did Audrey notice Martin standing in the door, and he shrank under her glare.

“You, boy. Who gave you permission to stand in my doorway?” she asked.

“Um, I took some photos at the show, and Marinette suggested that I bring them by to possibly use for the magazine.” He held up the SD card.

“This is an esteemed magazine. Not amateur-” the assistant stopped short when Audrey snatched the cartridge from his hands and plugged it into her computer.

Martin shifted his weight as she scrolled through his camera roll pensively. The worst she could do was say no. At least, that’s what he told himself to keep from shaking. Audrey Bourgeois was ten times scarier than Gabrielle on her worst day. Why did he let Marinette talk him into this?

Martin jumped at Audrey’s gasp. She swiped an image onto the large monitor on the wall—a shot of Macy at her peak. It was his favorite shot from the whole show, and not just because it was Macy. Okay, it was mostly because of Macy, but everything from her confident expression to the lights hitting the color on the dress was radiant. Audrey seemed to think so too.

“Now this is what I call a photo. Francine, send this to all of the other photographers and tell them to learn how to take photos like this,” Audrey said.

“Yes, ma’am, but my name isn’t Francine. It’s Eliza,” her assistant said.

“And now it’s fired. Get out.” Audrey shooed her with one hand, eyes never straying from the photo.

Once Eliza cleared out, Audrey turned to Martin, removing her sunglasses.

“Marinette was right to send you to me. That girl has such an eye for detail. This photo will be on the front page of the next issue of Style Queen. I’ll have my assistant send you a check—as soon as I find another assistant,” Audrey said. She brushed past Martin out the door. “Pierre, get me a new assistant! One with a less forgettable name this time.”

Martin turned back to the photo on the monitor with a smile. Macy really was beautiful. If only she could see it herself. Seeing her face on every screen and cover in Paris was bound to do a number on her self-esteem.

Pursing his lips, Martin returned to his car outside, instructing the driver to head across town. Macy smiled brightly when her butler opened the door, a bright red smoothie in her hand.

“Martin, what brings you by?” she asked.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He curled his shoulders.

“Not at all. Come on up.” She beckoned him to follow her up the stairs, sipping her smoothie on the way. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing after the show,” he said. “I went by the Style Queen office, and Audrey is going to use one of my pictures for the cover.”

“Martin, that’s awesome!” Macy gasped.

“It’s a picture of you,” he said.

She stayed quiet as they walked down the hall, eventually veering out onto the terrace. Leaning against the rail, she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose.

“Is that okay?” Martin asked.

Macy blinked, turning to him. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

“You sure? I mean, Audrey is a tough person to persuade, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll fight to take the photo back and-”

“It’s fine. Really.” Macy sighed, setting her drink on the railing. “It’s going to be weird, but everyone is going to be looking at the dress, not me. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, not everyone,” he said. “I mean, I’ll be looking at you… I always look at you.”

Macy’s cheeks flushed, but before she could speak, Martin continued.

“I know it’s difficult for you to see yourself, but you’re- Marinette themed her whole line for you, so that you could see yourself the way we all do. The way I do.” His cheeks burned, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re beautiful, Macy.”

“Martin…” Macy’s eyes watered, and she tugged him into a tight hug, burying her face in his shoulder.

He held her close while she cried, not pulling away until she did. He would have held her for hours if she needed, but after a few minutes, she let go, rubbing a hand across her face. She lingered close, searching his expression with curious brown eyes. Leaning down, she touched her lips to his, sending his heart into a full sprint. Kissing Macy had always felt like a pipe dream, but as she wrapped her arms around his neck, parting her lips in time with his, he realized that some dreams did come true.

When they pulled away, her smile returned, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll always be here for you. You can call me anytime,” he said.

Macy sat up with a giggle. “You really do have a heart of gold.”

His cheeks warmed at that, prompting another giggle from Macy. Standing on the terrace, Macy’s smile was brighter than the sun streaming in through the trellis roof, casting speckled shadows across her face, and to Martin, she’d never looked more beautiful.

♪♫♪ Forget Me Now ♪♫♪

From the moment the show ended, Marinette and her friends hit the ground running. The press went wild with her line, and by the next morning, every phone in her house was ringing with calls from reporters, magazines, celebrities looking for commissions, relatives and family friends sending their congrats. All of it made her dizzy, and the attention didn’t stop there.

Everyone at school followed her everywhere, showering her with praise and asking if she would design for them. She never got a moment alone—even in the bathroom. Part of her wondered if this had been the right move after all when she exited the school that afternoon to find the front steps teeming with her fans, but an overbearing man stood on the curb next to a familiar silver car, who upon seeing her, parted the crowd easily and lifted her over his head.

“Crazy day?” Adrien quirked a brow after his bodyguard shoved her into the car and shut the door. She flinched as people pressed themselves against the windows.

“Uh…” She winced, flicking her gaze to the fans cheering for her on the sidewalk as they pulled away. “How do you put up with this?”

“Comes with the territory. You get used to it.” Adrien chuckled, helping her buckle her seatbelt. “It should die down after a while. You’re just new.”

“I hope so,” she said with wide eyes, settling into her seat. “How did people react at your school?”

“Well…” Adrien pursed his lips.

- - -

“Adrien! Marinette’s line was so sick!”

“How is she doing?”

“You’re so lucky to be dating her.”

“We should all hang out again sometime. Could you ask her when she’s available?”

“Uh…” Adrien drawled, averting his gaze as he walked. “I’m sure she would love to see you all again.”

“We should invite her to the class beach party this summer! She always loved going.” Kim suggested.

“I’m sure she’d appreciate that,” Adrien replied with a smile.

“Can you tell her we miss her?” Rose asked.

“I will.” He nodded as the bell rang, and everyone dispersed.

Lila looked on from the second floor with a pensive frown, Alya and Sabrina by her side. Chloe hung back far enough to seem inconspicuous but close enough to eavesdrop.

“It’s pretty awesome that Marinette started her own brand,” Sabrina said as they walked.

“Oh, yeah totally!” Lila smiled sweetly. “I mean, it’s cool that she’s going to be getting so much money and fame, but if it were me, I would be using all of this attention for good. There are so many countries out there that need help, and I think it would be better if she focused her efforts there instead of on herself, don’t you think?”

“Slow your roll, Mlle. Charitable. Not everyone is such a saint.” Alya chuckled.

“Aww, Alya, you’re so sweet. Marinette didn’t deserve you.” Lila pulled her in for a hug. “If only you were the famous one instead of her, then maybe the world would be a better place. I know that you would definitely help the poor children suffering from disease in the hospital like I’m doing.”

“If you ever need any help with that, I’ll be happy to, ya know,” Alya said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked.

“Oh, I absolutely would, but they’re so particular about who can visit since exposing them to outside germs is so risky for their health,” Lila said.

Chloe rolled her eyes, slowing her pace to meet Adrien.

“Lila thinks Marinette should help the children’s hospital,” she said.

Adrien flicked his gaze ahead with a smirk.

“Then maybe she will.”

- - -

“I think that’s a good place to start.” Marinette tapped her chin as the limo slowed to a stop in front of city hall. “What’s this?”

“You didn’t expect to do all this work for free, did you?” Adrien asked as Gorilla moved around to open the door. “Come on. You’ll see.”

Inside the mayor’s office were her parents, Audrey, and Mayor Bourgeois, all chatting idly. They turned to face her as she entered with Adrien, her parents smiling proudly.

“Marinette, darling, come in and sit.” Audrey motioned to the chair in front of the desk.

“What’s going on?” she asked, slowly sinking into her seat.

“Oh, she really has no idea. How cute.” Audrey laughed, pressing a hand to her chest.

“We’re here to talk about your future, Marinette,” Mayor Bourgeois said.

“We’ve been working with the Bourgeois’ to set up an account for you, sweetie.” Her father explained, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re still young, so your mother and I will be helping you manage your finances until you’re old enough to do it on your own.”

“Finances?” Marinette’s eyebrows knitted together.

“Lots of people are investing in your brand, sweetie. They want in,” Audrey said. “My phone has been ringing all day with people asking to put money into your brand, so I took the liberty as your primary investor to hire you a manager to help you sort through all of your offers, but seeing as you and I have already partnered, I wanted to hand you your very first check myself.”

Marinette straightened as Mayor Bourgeois ripped a check from his book. Audrey snatched it from his grasp, moving around the desk and holding it out. Marinette eyed Audrey, flicking her gaze down to the slip of paper while her parents and Adrien leaned in to get a better look.

“Oh my!” her mom gasped.

“Whoa!” Her dad ran a hand through his hair. “That’s a lot of croissants.”

“Are you sure the decimal is in the right place?” Marinette looked up, and Audrey and Andre exchanged amused looks.

“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s mere cents compared to what you have coming.” Audrey waved it away. “I’ve made more than that in magazine sales this past hour alone.”

“Is it really alright for me to accept this?” Marinette curled her shoulders.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Audrey placed a hand on her hip. “You earned it.”

“Audrey is right, sweetie, you worked for this.” Her mom wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Marinette glanced back down at the check with pursed lips.

“Thank you, Audrey,” she said softly. “For everything.”

“Thank you for revitalizing my passion for this industry. I was in a bit of a dry patch, but you’ve just brought a rainstorm,” Audrey said. “Now, onto the subject of your future, I haven’t been shy about how talented I find you, and I think you have a place in this industry, Marinette. The world of fashion needs your eye. I offered to take you to New York with me once, and I think you should reconsider your answer.”

“I-I don’t know…” Marinette cast a nervous glance down at her purse, but Audrey was undeterred.

“Of course, you’re barely out of collége, but you have so much raw talent that needs to be harnessed.” Audrey lifted her chin. “I can help you hone your skills, not only in designing but in navigating the industry, investing, networking, you have so much to learn, my dear.”

“Audrey…” Marinette blinked, gathering her thoughts. “I do want to work with you, and I did before too, but-”

“Yes, yes, Paris is your home, I know.” Audrey rolled her eyes. “You’re still young, and I know that your life here is important to you, so I’m not asking you to leave it all behind yet.” She let out a sigh. “I will work with you here, in Paris, until you turn 18 and finish school. Then you and I can go to New York and enroll you in a proper university, and I will help you establish yourself independently.”

“We’ll be working here in Paris?” Marinette reiterated, touching her earrings.

“Yes, you don’t have to leave all of your little school friends,” Audrey said with another eye roll.

Marinette pressed her lips together. “Okay.” She nodded. “Then I would be honored to train with you, Audrey.”

“Excellent!” Audrey clapped her hands together. “I will have your manager meet with my assistant to work out our schedules. Ah, this is going to be wonderful. Absolutely wonderful, I can already see the headlines!”

“We’re so proud of you, honey,” her dad said, placing a hand on her back and kissing her temple.

“What are you going to spend your first paycheck on?” Mayor Bourgeois asked, a knowing smile on his lips.

Marinette glanced back at the check. “I’m going to spend it on the children’s hospital.”

#my writing #mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix

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thedistantdusk · 3 years

Text

Arcadia, Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who followed along! Things are heating up with this chapter! Most of the referenced triggers from chapter 1 apply in this chapter specifically. Here's the link to chapter 2, if you're just seeing this now :)

Thanks again to @secretkeeper13, @accio-broom, @remedialpotions, @jamezbot, @jenoramaca, @not-steve42, @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey... god, I'm forgetting people, and I'm sorry! But you're all amazing <3

___________________________

D A Y + T H R E E

As fate would have it, Ginny wakes before 0-700.

Not that she sleeps.

Nightmares, the likes of which she hasn’t experienced in years, torment her throughout the night. They leave her scared. Miserable. Guilty. Around 3 AM, she finally reaches for her Dreamless Sleep potion with shaking hands. For more reasons than one, she’s pleased that Harry’s slept on the couch.

She knows now just how stupid this entire mission truly was. The longer she analyzes it, the more she accepts that her bloody pride got her here in the first place. A chance for a promotion, however small, gave her false confidence in her ability to disregard a decade of sexual tension, all while trapped in close quarters with the person she wants the most.

She hopes Harry makes himself sparse today, though she knows that sounds cruel. But the longer they spend together, the clearer it becomes they’re on the cusp of something… and not something that would look good on a performance review. He’s been kind and understanding so far, even when she’s fucked things up. She just hopes she can ignore the most human parts of herself until they’ve dealt with this.

So at half-past 8, Ginny — Jenny — emerges from the house in a bright floral sundress and nude pumps. Were it not for the secret weapon clutched in her right fist, she might have fit in quite well... but Jenny has no intention of fitting in. Not anymore. In three confident strides, she marches across the front lawn, bends down, and spears the prongs of a lurid pink flamingo into the grass.

Yes.

She grins and takes in her work. How ghastly against the backdrop of earth tones! How repugnant!

Ginny steals quick glimpses over each shoulder, only to be met with the eerie, blanketed silence that’s defined Arcadia since their arrival. No activity at all. Which means she’ll have no issue with the next bit…

She strides to the mailbox at the end of their driveway and gives it a sharp kick. The post slides out of alignment, leaving it askew. Perfect. She returns to the house with a bounce in her step. Living with the twins taught her a thing or two about how to infuriate complete strangers.

She just hopes it’ll be enough.

___________________________

As luck would have it, it is enough. Her efforts receive reward more quickly than she thought— more quickly than she’s been conditioned to expect.

Scarcely an hour passes before she finds the warning she needs. And to be honest, it could’ve been there sooner; she just figured she’d give it that long before she checked.

Still, it’s not even 10 AM when she opens the door and sees it on their welcome mat: a folded paper with Pee-tri scrolled on the front. She can’t help but admire the sheer cheek as she unfolds it; this is the closest they’ll get to a public call-out for the way Harry insists on correcting everyone’s pronunciation. The message inside doesn’t surprise her, either.

Be like the others before dark. Or else.

Ginny glimpses out at the lawn, just to confirm— and yes. Sure enough. Just as she’d suspected, the flamingo's gone. The mailbox is straight. Everything’s back to normal.

She kicks the door closed with a smirk and wonders if they’re aware of how easily they’ve exposed themselves. How—

“What’ve you got there?” Harry calls from the sofa in the living room. He looks up from his laptop with bleary, dark-rimmed eyes. A wave of guilt washes through her; that sofa clearly didn’t get more comfortable overnight. Not that he would’ve accepted the alternative.

“Erm. A letter.” She waves in front of her and walks into the living room. “I’ve done a great job annoying them!”

He offers a gentle smile. “Any chance you’ll let me know who this ‘them’ is that you’re so worried about?”

Ginny rolls her eyes and settles on the other end of the couch. “You know I can’t—”

“Talk about your work,” Harry finishes, turning back to his computer. “Right.”

“Mm. Not exactly that I can’t… talk about my work,” she ventures, putting her feet up on the white ottoman. “More like I can’t give information until it’s essential knowledge for all parties involved. Based on criteria that I also can’t share.”

“Sounds like a fun job,” Harry deadpans, still looking at the computer. “But anyway, if I were to suggest something like… I don’t know…” He casually tilts the screen in her direction. “The fact that Oliver Skinner definitely has a criminal record, and maybe that’s worth looking into. You couldn’t confirm or deny that?”

Ginny just shrugs. “That’s correct. I can neither confirm nor deny.”

His theory is wrong, of course. Dead wrong.

They wouldn’t have sent an Unspeakable and an Auror into the country if this were a simple Muggle murderer. Harry would be able to suss this out, she reckons, if he had more sleep. Poor bloke.

He groans and cracks his back. “I’m starting to understand why King’s always so frustrated.”

“Probably because he has to deal with you all the time,” Ginny quips, reaching for a magazine on the floor. Ugh. Of course, it’s only the TV guide, Radio Times. They don’t even have a TV, but it came with the Daily Mail on Sunday.

Harry reaches for a glass of water on the coffee table. “Fine,” he relents, in between sips. “I’ll stay in my lane. But if I get bored, I’ll get tetchy.” He gestures to the computer. “And since they’ve given us this laptop, I’ve had time to do a bit of—”

“They’ve given me a laptop,” Ginny corrects, arching a brow. “As you’re well aware, Auror Potter, that is technically the property of the DoM.” She returns to the guide with a shrug. “I just don’t care if you use it, mostly because I don’t expect you’ll be looking up tits all day.”

He chokes on his water; Ginny just laughs and turns the page. Ooh, lovely! Eurovision looks particularly flamboyant this year…

“You’re absolutely right,” Harry says, once he recovers. “I’d never look up tits on government property!” He looks affronted as he hands over the laptop, but she knows he’s not done... not when he’s set that up so perfectly. Annnnd sure enough…

“You of all people should know I'm an arse-man, Ginny.”

Now it’s her turn for an unattractive snort as he winks over his shoulder and marches upstairs.

When he’s gone, Ginny rolls her eyes and opens her laptop. He’s an incredible liar on the arse-man front, but it was a good joke. A simple joke…. one that didn’t deserve looking into.

It’s just unfortunate that can’t stop these stupid fucking butterflies from erupting in her stomach like she’s ten years old again.

___________________________

He launches into the air again, the gardens of his neighbors spanning out in front of him. Each perfectly manicured. Each disturbing in its performative precision. None of this is real; none of this is life.

He pulled out the trampoline after dinner, when Ginny okayed it. He’s not used to that— checking before he does things. This whole exercise has been a great reminder that his teamwork skills are rusty, especially when he’s in a subordinate role. Ron left after their first year to work in the magic shop instead, which only made sense after… yeah. Harry draws a deep breath and jumps again. Ron and Hermione haven’t been problem-solving in his head for ages. There’s been no one to share the burden of choices or—

“OI!” Oliver’s voice thunders across the garden.

Harry smiles and takes another huge leap into the air. Just in time…

He rips open the fence door and stomps over, hands balled into fists. Harry’s never seen anyone look quite so furious while dressed in cashmere. And standing beside a trampoline.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver hisses, eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you trying to make enemies, Henry? Is this entire estate a bloody joke to you?”

“Of course not!” Harry lands on his bum before he jumps up again. “This is very serious!”

“Oliver!” Sharon wails, hurrying over. “Oliver. Please! This really—”

“Keep your nose where it belongs, woman,” Oliver snarls, looking at her like she’s scum on his shoe. “No one wants your opinion!”

Sharon flinches… and this, more than anything else, gets Harry’s back up. “No need to take it out on her!” he snaps, climbing down from the trampoline. “Talk to me if you’ve got a problem, Ollie. Why not—”

But just as Harry’s feet touch the grass, something very weird happens: A dull buzzing fills his ears. Sharon and Oliver hear it too, but unlike Harry, they aren’t looking around in bewildered confusion. In a flash, the rage on Oliver’s face transforms into something much different: fear. And as the pressure grows, Harry can only watch as Oliver grabs Sharon’s hand, yanking her from the garden, when—

An unmistakable sound replaces the buzzing. A large piece of glass from somewhere in the front of the house shatters on the pavement. And with that, the buzzing stops.

Birds chirp again. Someone laughs in the distance. Harry jabs a finger in his ear, trying to clear it, but it seems Oliver’s returned to his furious state. He lunges towards Harry, a vein ticking in his neck, his hands outstretched as if to push him over— but Harry doesn’t have time for this. He’s already running around him, bolting towards the source of the sound, his hand inching for his pocket…

Because whatever they’ve got going on isn’t related to Oliver, is it? No… definitely not. That buzzing was too creepy to be muggle. Harry hadn’t really been convinced of the Oliver theory in the first place, even if the wanker has a criminal record for drunk driving. He mostly suggested it to Ginny to see if she’d give him any information.

Harry spots the broken glass the second he reaches the pavement. The lamppost right outside their house has shattered, light bulb and all. Bits of glass sparkle on the street, but the lamppost is at least 10 feet high. Harry scans around for signs of a ladder, or some form of a projectile… any method someone might’ve used to— oh! A baseball rolls around in one of the open garages across the street. He’s about to march over and collect it when his conscience stops him.

Because that’s the definition of circumstantial evidence, isn’t it? Harry sighs, rubbing his forehead. Snatching the baseball while working alone is one thing, but it’s not worth risking Ginny’s job. Especially because he reckons these thoroughly unmemorable homes are each equipped with monitoring systems. At absolute best, that would be… awkward to explain to the muggle police, especially without an obvious connection between the ball and the shattered lamppost...

Harry’s just about to turn back inside and write it off a freak occurrence when—

Shit.

His breath freezes in his throat.

What the...

He blinks a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it, but no...

There’s no weird buzzing this time… but something else is happening instead. The grass on the far side of their yard is bulging and curling, right in front of his eyes. The soil creaks as this… this mass — a huge sphere of some sort — passes through; bits of dirt fly into the air before settling back.

Harry’s veins turn to ice, his stomach churning. Work has introduced him to new, vile varieties of ghouls and nasties. He’s been bitten by a leprechaun. Stalked by a vampire. He’s encountered every disturbing otherworldly menace that one could imagine.

But he’s never seen anything like this.

His only solace is that it’s headed towards Mike’s empty house… this massive, rolling boulder that travels beneath the soil. ‘Boulder’ isn’t exactly the right term, though; he’s never seen a boulder move with a slinking, predatory grace. He’s never gotten gooseflesh from a rock, no matter how large.

And try as he might, he can only stand there, wide-eyed, his heart racing. Because now he knows for sure what Ginny only alluded to before: whatever they’re chasing isn’t human.

And it’s aware of them.

___________________________

The door creaks open less than five minutes after the glass shatters, but Ginny’s prepared.

She’s standing in the alcove just off the entryway, wand in one hand, fire poker in the other. It’s probably not the best strategy she’s ever had— but she reckons that if a Muggle were to catch sight of an altercation, it would be an easy memory supplantation. Wands and fire pokers don’t look that dissimilar, and—

“Ginny?” Harry calls. Directly into her ear.

Shit! She jumps into the air, the poker clattering to the ground.

“When did you learn to move like a cat?” she demands, turning to face him. “You nearly—”

“We need to talk,” he says brusquely. It’s only then that she takes in his wide, haunted eyes. His white pallor. The way he hasn’t even commented on the ridiculousness of her fire poker.

Oh.

He’s scared.

Scared in a way she hasn’t seen him in ages. Maybe ever. Which means he heard…? Shit. She’d might as well ask.

“What do you erm…” She toys with her wand handle. “Want to talk about?”

Harry heaves a tired sigh. “I’m only going to ask you this once,” he says flatly, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Then he blinks up at her, his eyes pulsing and stern. “What the fuck was that?”

“The… shattered lamppost?” she hedges. “I’ve no idea. I just—”

Apparently, that was the wrong response.

Harry groans. “You know damn well I don’t mean the bloody lamppost!” he snarls. “I mean that… that thing! First the weird buzzing, then whatever moved through the grass! It was like some creepy worm, or—”

“—not a worm,” she amends, staring at her cuticles.

This, too, was the wrong reply; she’s never seen him go from bewildered to enraged quite so fast.

Harry lets out a furious roar and kicks at an empty box. “This is why Unspeakables are so fucking annoying!” he shouts, tossing his hands in the air. “You never fucking say anything — even if it might help someone!”

Pfft! He can do better than that...

“Not sure what you expected,” she deadpans. “Would it help if I were a Speakable instead?”

Harry rolls his eyes and throws himself on the couch. Ginny just leans against the door… and waits. She can’t say she blames him for being angry. It’s probably made him feel vulnerable in ways he hasn’t in ages.

“The least you can bloody do,” Harry says, cutting into her thoughts, “is to let me know how to kill it.” He glimpses up at her, his chest still heaving. “Because if anything happened to you….” His hand curls around his wand, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “We both know I’d never forgive myself.”

Fuck.

Her heart clenches; as embarrassing as it is, tears sting the backs of her eyes. She wasn’t expecting that… but it makes perfect sense. He’s not angry because he’s vulnerable; he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to protect her.

Because he’s Harry.

Her Harry.

And try as she might, she can’t deny that. He’s hers… even though now he’s broken and angry and scared and alone. Which is probably why she loves the fucking fuck out of him.

No.

She stops herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Mission. Mission. They’re on a mission.

Right. She clears her throat and steps forward, two papers clutched in her hand.

“What’s that?” Harry grumbles as she hands them over. He scans the pages, brow furrowing. “Sugar… engine oil. Red Dye 40. What am I supposed to do with—?”

Ginny smiles and tries to make this easy. “It’s the report from the necklace. The thing that was on Mike’s medallion… it’s rubbish. Not blood, not some ghost slime. It’s just a weird mixture of types of rubbish.”

She should’ve figured he wouldn’t find this significant.

“What a brilliant scientific discovery.” Harry tosses the paper to the side. “Hermione would be thrilled.”

Ginny gnaws at her cheek, choosing her words carefully… but if he’s already seen it, if he’s already heard it, surely there’s no harm...

Harry rises to his feet and takes a step closer until he’s towering over her, all warm and brooding. They aren’t touching… not exactly. He’s just hovering close enough to give her strength, whether he knows it or not. When she finally gets the nerve to look up at him, his green eyes are swirling with more pain than rage. Truth be told, she prefers the rage. “I deserve to know,” he says thickly, like he’s suppressing something in his throat, “what the fuck is going on.”

Ginny breaks their eye contact. Some of this she hasn’t even shared with Attica yet. She’s violating about a million protocols by telling Harry first, but if they’re together on a mission…

“It’s… not what we thought. Not what I thought,” she admits softly, after a moment. “We came out here under the assumption of chasing something from the Thought Chamber. Something that erm… may have escaped. During a routine experiment.”

He’s not impressed, though. “Yeah,” he says, arching a brow. “I gathered all of that from your intro with the camera, thanks. Do you ever plan on telling me anything new?” He jerks his chin towards the window. “Because you’ve sure as hell never mentioned Evil Grass Monster Experiment #6, and that may have been helpful to fucking know before I saw it.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

His attitude is more infuriating than his actual words, but she lacks the patience for dealing with either. The bloody nerve, to act all impatient with information that’s kept secret for a reason...

“I don’t have to tell you shit, actually,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “And in case you’re unaware, I can protect myself.”

Harry pulls back with a laugh, but this one is cruel. Dark. The sort she’s never heard from him before. “Makes sense,” he says with a fake grin. Then he taps her on the nose. “Because when that thing outside inevitably kills someone else, we all know how well you’ll manage the guilt.”

Ouch.

She reels back, stung. He’s got to know that’s a low blow. Younger Ginny would have Bat Bogeyed him into oblivion, but she’s better now. She’s changed.

At least that’s what she tells herself as she glares at him, her hands fisted so tightly they turn white. “Say what you mean,” she manages several moments later, when rage isn’t clawing at her chest. “If you’d like to rehash our breakup, Auror Potter, I’m all ears!” She gives her best impression of an icy smirk. “This isn’t exactly professional… but then again, when have you ever been?”

Harry looks like he’s going to respond, but a loud vibration starts in his back pocket. “Fuck!” Now it’s his turn to leap into the air before he realizes it’s just his wand. And really, she’s tempted to laugh— but the look on his face helps her put the pieces together.

Because if his wand’s vibrating, that means it’s an emergency; only department heads can summon their employees like that. They’re the only ones with access to that sort of technology, not that she’s really interested either way.

“It’s King,” he mutters. She’s about to get on him for stating the obvious, but when he peers at her again, his face is filled with such timid yearning that she can only see the 11-year-old boy on the train platform. “Can I…erm. Use your mobile?”

Fine. Ginny nods towards the bedroom, her head still spinning. She’s still a bit angry with him, but he’s so fucking broken. They both are. And besides, they’ve got bigger problems. What could possibly have King so worried that he’d call Harry from a mission? The man is unflappable.

Harry returns a minute later, his face stony, jaw set. In another life, she might’ve seen the bulge in his pocket and asked if that’s just her mobile, or if he’s happy to see her.

Instead, she tucks her hair behind her ears like the seasoned professional she is. “There’s no reception inside,” she points out. “I’ve had luck calling Attica from up the street, right at the corner. Just watch out for…”

Harry smirks. “Grass monsters?”

Ginny draws a breath to consider her options. She could keep him in the dark forever, but isn’t that the whole point of this assignment? To learn? It’s time for the truth, she reckons...

“It’s erm. It’s called a tulpa, actually.”

His eyes light up at this. “A tulpa?”

Ginny shifts her weight and searches for the right words. “It’s a… it’s sort of like an evil imaginary friend, created by a group of people to do their bidding,” she explains, reaching for the discarded papers. “They come from the material of whatever’s underground. I’ve only heard of creatures made from clay or water, but since this village was built on a rubbish tip”— she flicks the papers with her fingers— “that’s our guy!”

She can almost see the gears spinning in Harry’s head as he studies the far wall. “So…” he says slowly, still peering off, “it’s basically an evil dump monster, made of rubbish, that can murder people.”

A laugh slips past her lips. It sounds a bit dumb when he puts it that way. She clears her throat and continues. “I was wrong because it’s not something that’s escaped, more like something that’s—”

“Formed,” Harry finishes quickly. For the first time all week, he sounds intrigued. Like he’s happy to be here. “So… they’ve made it to keep order, then?”

“It would seem so.” She shrugs. “I… honestly don’t know. But between the weird buzzing and the rubbish, it’s the closest match we’ve got. According to the system database, anyway.”

There’s another pause as Harry mulls this over. “So, how do we get rid of it, then?”

How fucked up is it that her heart warms at the way he says ‘we’?

Ginny brushes that aside. “Considering the mask in Gogolak’s house and the way they’ve made a point to tell us he’s in charge, I’d say he’s the one we need to get rid of.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t object.

“Or at least… knock him totally unconscious,” she adds, swallowing; Gogolak’s a wanker, but she’d rather not kill him, either. “Beyond just being asleep. Because he sleeps at night, but the tulpa’s still here, which means he needs to be down for the count. Comatose, even.”

Harry’s wand buzzes again. Ah, shit; in all the hubbub, she’d forgotten about that.

Concern floods Harry’s face. “Give me five minutes.” He blinks. “Ok?”

She waves towards the door. “Duty calls.”

He gives her a weak smile and turns away; she begins the trek upstairs to send Attica an email update.

“Ginny?”

She stops to look down at him. Harry’s paused, halfway out the door. “Thank you,” he says softly, meeting her eyes. “And… I’m sorry. For everything. Ok? I’ll always, erm…”

But she can’t right now. She actually fucking can’t.

“Later,” she whispers, nearly begging. “Please. Let’s do this later.”

Because of course she loves him.

She’s always fucking loved him, even though that’s changed forms. It’s shifted. It’s evolved. He feels the same way… she knows he’s bloody feels the same way. She just doesn’t have the resources to deal with whatever this fuck is reigniting, right in front of her eyes, as the tulpa dances in the back of her head.

Luckily, he understands. Harry just swallows again, nods at her, and heads out into the night.

___________________________

As it would turn out, he was wrong about the identity of the summoner.

“Great news!” Hermione announces on the other end of the mobile. “MLE found Yaxley. He was hiding in a cave in Romania, just like you said.”

Harry snorts; he wishes that gave him more pride. “Well, if you’d listened to me months ago, then—”

“The important part is that we have him,” Hermione says, cutting across. “We need you back ASAP to prep for witness questioning. You’ll take the stand, of course. The trial’s set to start next week!”

He can practically hear her bouncing with excitement. Very little brings her more joy than trials of former Death Eaters.

“Erm… about that.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “We’re actually right on the cusp of something here. I’m gonna need a couple more days to wrap things up.”

“Really?” Hermione sounds surprised. “Kingsley and Robards said you’d be pleased. Said you found this mission as useless as they did.”

Fuck, he was such an arse.

“Well, things… changed,” he offers lamely. “It’s going really well. This mission is so important to her. I’d just hate to leave at the last minute.”

“Ohhh?” Hermione draws out the word in a way that suggests she finds herself quite clever. Even before she asks, he knows what she’s on about. “How’s it going with Ginny, then?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Her coy prodding is obvious, even over the phone.

“As I already said, it’s going well,” he replies flatly. “We’re a great team. Always have been.”

But she can’t let him have that one, can she?

“Well… not always,” Hermione allows. “After Percy—”

Harry groans. For fuck’s sake, what’s her obsession with stating the obvious? “Yeah, well,” he retorts, “I’d like to know who you think did well after that, especially since…”

He trails off with a sigh.

Especially since what, exactly?

He toys with the fraying ends of his hoodie string.

Especially since Ginny was the last to speak with Percy? That she still carries the weight of the guilt for what she said that night? That she’s never admitted it, but that he suspects her choice to become an Unspeakable was influenced by the things she wishes she could un-say?

Harry makes a face. That’s corny as fuck, isn’t it? What a thing to pull from his arse...

Hermione interrupts his thoughts for a bit of bragging. “Well, Ron and I have done just fine.”

He can almost imagine her staring at her engagement ring in dreamy affection. The mental image makes his reply sound more bitter than he intends.

“Well,” Harry snaps, “Ron wasn’t the last person to speak with Percy. So I’m not sure how you could compare the two, really.”

Shit.

The silence on the other end tells him he needs to apologize, even if it’s true. Fortunately, Hermione gives him an easy out. “Anyway.” She clears her throat. “I’ll give you until tomorrow night, but we really need you the following day. If you haven’t settled this, we’re swapping you out. Got it?”

Harry sighs. He’s exhausted, but this couldn’t possibly take much longer. Ginny’s more or less got the proof she needs now. They just need to confront Gogolak, knock him out, and—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Harry cranes his neck towards the source of the noise. Huh… weird. Far up the street, flashing lights tip him off. That’s definitely Oliver’s Audi, the one parked in the driveway directly beside theirs. It’s in utopia blue with a metallic finish, a detail Oliver probably mentioned at least fifty times the other night. Then, while Sharon and Ginny were out walking the dog, Oliver began a mind-numbing lecture on the car’s exact miles per liter. Harry was a bit drunk, which is probably why he interrupted to ask a much more important maths question: How many blow jobs per week is too many, exactly?

Even from a distance, Harry can tell that Oliver’s nearly the same shade of murderous red now; he storms from the house and turns off the alarm with his key fob. But then he pauses, glancing around like something’s spooked him. He must decide it’s not that significant, though, because he huffs back inside soon enough. Fucking wanker...

“....Harry?”

“Sorry!” Harry shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, that works. See you then, Hermione.”

“Can’t wait!” she trills. He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s smug and grinning.

___________________________

Two minutes after Harry leaves, Ginny feels it again: that same sensation she experienced while walking Captain Bone.

She’s sitting at her laptop when it starts… this deeply unsettling shift. It stands the hair up on the back of her neck. She rushes to the window on instinct, but just like before, everything outside looks the same. There’s no “moving grass monster,” as Harry called it. Not yet, at least.

Still, she can’t deny it’s growing louder. Getting stronger. And now that she’s felt it for a bit longer, she can put more words to it. It’s like she’s plummeting through the absence of sound; like all the wind’s been sucked from the air. It’s a building pressure, a mounting unease, and before she knows it, her whole body starts to shake.

Then two things happen in quick succession: that weird feeling stops, and a car alarm begins to blare in the distance.

Weird.

She shudders. This whole thing is so fucking weird. Weird is her job, and this place is still Very Fucking Weird. Seriously, who enjoys living here? She’s reaching for her wand, just in case, when the front door slams open.

In retrospect, it’s a blessing she knows Harry as well as she does… because she can tell that those heavy, clobbering footsteps don’t belong to him. She knows he’s not the one drawing deep, ragged breaths as he marches up the stairs.

She hides around the corner of the bedroom, her heart racing, and goes through a mental list of spells she might use. Shield charms. Enchantments. The buzzing’s stopped, so this probably isn’t the tulpa… but who else would be here? Gogolak? It sounds more human than—

“Jenny?” a deep, soothing voice asks. “Are you in here?”

Her breath freezes in her throat. She’s only heard that voice once before… but it’s so similar to her former life that she identifies it at once.

“Mike?” A wave of relief washes through her. She shoves her wand into her dress as she comes around the corner. Sure enough, there he is, in the flesh. Mike Snodgrass. A man she presumed dead days ago.

“Hi!” Mike pants. He cracks a smile. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but.” He winces, wiping a palm on his ripped khakis. “Been hiding!” Fuck. His whole outfit (yellow Polo, khakis) is the same he wore days ago to unload their boxes, except now it’s filthy. Stained. Like he’s been living beneath cars and inside drains. He’s just missing his Saint Julian medallion, which she’s sent to the Ministry.

Ginny feels sick. She wrote him off as dead so carelessly...

“I’ve been trying to take it down,” he adds earnestly, peering at her. His cheeks are caked in something red and grimy, the same stuff she stuffed into her bra. He’s been tailing the tulpa, she realizes, her stomach plummeting…

Except he’s got no clue what he’s doing.

“I was about to leave the development, to just run away, but that’s when I figured out it was coming for you two!” He shudders, closing his eyes. It feels like he’s been waiting a long, long time to say this. “And I’ve been aimless without Jess in the first place. So what was the point in leaving, really, if I could save…?”

He trails off, clearing his throat; when he looks up at her again, there’s a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I’ve been leaving clues, though! Why didn’t you listen?”

“Clues?” Ginny sounds like she’s a million miles away.

Mike’s nearly pleading now. “You had to go and kick the mailbox and stick the flamingo in the grass, didn’t you?” He raises his pointer finger. “And even though I left you a note, you had to make it even worse! It only attacks when the sun goes down, see.”

“You… you left the note?” she whispers. She was so certain that it was from Gogolak...

But Mike proceeds in such a rush it’s clear he hasn’t heard her. “It was about to get Henry by the trampoline, so I threw the baseball as a diversion. I broke the lamppost, too— which worked. For a second,” he adds hastily, glancing over his shoulder.

“How did you also set off the car alarm— oh.” Her head’s still spinning. “Buddy system. Right.”

Mike dangles a keyfob. “Covenant rules. Stole the spare off Jane.” He glances into the hall again before whipping back to face her. “It’ll need a sacrifice tonight, though,” he adds grimly. “And every night, until you all have perfect behavior. It was coming for you earlier, see. We aren’t meant to be outdoors after dark without a permit for dog-walking, so.” He shrugs. “If there’s an unapproved disruption like a car alarm, it knows just where to hunt.”

It’s then that the final pieces of this dreadful puzzle slide together in her brain. “Captain Bone,” Ginny breathes; she swears a feather could knock her over. “He was the first since we arrived. Punishment for us sticking out.”

“I couldn’t save him,” Mike laments. “It came up and snatched him. So I threw in my medallion, right after his collar, just to make them think I was already gone.”

“That’s… that was brilliant,” she admits, biting her lip. “Thank you. You didn’t have—”

“Nah,” he says firmly. “I did. For starters, you remind me so much of…” He stops mid-sentence, an odd expression on his face.

For a second, she thinks he’s being sentimental, but then she feels it too.

Shit.

The hairs on her arm stand up. It’s back… that weird way she felt before. Like the air’s sucked from the room. That creeping, clawing silence. This time, though, it only gets louder, louder, louder, until she’s throwing her hands over her ears, all hope of self-defense forgotten.

But Mike knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing. She doesn’t have the chance to object or get her wand before he’s ripping open the closet door and throwing her inside. Ginny opens her mouth in a startled cry, but it’s like she’s screaming underwater, the sound distant and distorted. Mike slams the door closed with her inside and stomps to the center of the room— but now the thundering, roaring wind is causing her physical pain… it’s so loud now that it reverberates in her chest, so loud that her hands shake as she reaches for her wand at long last, but fuck fuck fuck, it’s too late…

It’s too fucking late.

Because Mike’s made a choice. One he can’t take back. He just stands in the middle of the room, puffing out his chest, offering himself as the proud sacrifice, even as the noise grows so loud that Ginny screams her throat raw.

She feels it enter the bedroom, this looming, shifting mass— but by then, she’s certain her ears are bleeding, her eardrums bursting. Her whole body rattles and shakes as she peers through the slats in the closet door, but she’s frozen. Stuck. Miserable. She couldn’t cast a spell if she tried… even as the tulpa oozes into the room, lunges itself back, and swallows Mike with a sickening squelch.

Even though the slats of the door, Ginny’s sprayed with blood. Covered. And she’s dizzy now… so dizzy. A drop of blood trickles into her eye; she reaches up to wipe it from her face, and it’s only then that she hears her own screams again. They reverberate through the small space, anguished and pleading, so loud that she’s certain someone up the street could hear, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t fucking care. She just screams over and over and over, her nails clawing at the walls, until the world slips away into darkness.

___________________________

Blood.

It’s the first thing he smells as he charges up the steps. His chest squeezes, his eyes water, his head pounds over and over again with one word: No.

No. No. No.

Not Ginny. It can’t be.

But almost as soon as he smells the blood, he hears her screaming, and yes! His heart soars. Screaming is good; screaming means she’s alive and breathing and—

Fuck.

His dinner rises in his throat as he steps into the bedroom. He smelled the blood from the steps, he hadn’t expected… this much. It always takes him aback, exactly how much blood is in one human body, and he’s certainly never seen it sprayed, all over the floor… covering the walls. Covering the closet, even, where Ginny’s still screaming.

He flings open the door, thinking he’s prepared for what he might see. Somehow, though, none of that measures up. Because he’s dealt with tears in his line of work… but he’s never, ever seen her so broken. His chest clenches when he takes her in. Her perfect suburban dress — the yellow floral one, the one he liked so much— is now red and grimy, caked in blood, as Ginny rocks back and forth on the floor, sobs wracking her body.

Blood’s covering her face, too, and her arms. Dried trails of it have crusted around her eyes, like she’s fallen asleep wiping them away… or perhaps lost consciousness. The thought is too terrible to bear. He kicks the door open completely and brings her into his arms in one fell swoop.

She melts against him, her voice raw and broken. “H-Harry!” she manages. “P-please! I need-I need!” She begins to shake, pressing her face to his chest.

“A shower,” he says firmly, stepping into the en-suite. “You… you just need a shower. Ok? And maybe some calming draught, I’ve got some in my luggage, and—”

“No!” she cries, shaking her head. Her eyes are wide and filled with horror. “Don’t… don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Harry, please!”

“I… ok,” he allows, carrying her to his luggage to retrieve the bottle. She clings to his neck as he reaches for it, but she weighs next to nothing. Fuck, she’s so thin… he’d just been too busy eyeing her up to realize exactly how thin. What a complete wanker.

It’s not difficult to unzip the suitcase with one hand and pass her the bottle. “Take this,” he urges, thrusting it into her hands. “Please, Ginny. You’ll feel—”

She’s already downed it before he gets to the end of the sentence. She tips her head back, drawing air into her lungs. “Thanks.” Her voice is still hoarse. Ragged.

“Shower, then,” he murmurs, walking her into the bathroom. He feels her start to relax against him, her body growing looser, as he opens the curtain and turns on the tap.

“Thanks,” she whispers again, her head tucked beneath his chin. His fingers itch with restraint; he’d do anything, he thinks, to hold her against him. To press a kiss to her temple. To tell her he loves her and that she’s beautiful and perfect and he’s sorry, so sorry, that any of this happened and—

She peers up at him, her eyes more focused now, less wide-eyed and horror-struck. “Would you stay here?” she asks, biting her lip. “While I shower? Just so I’m not—”

“‘Course.” Harry swallows, putting her on her feet. She lands with unintentional grace, one foot after the next.

“And can you… erm.” She turns her back to him, lifting her hair above her zipper. His hands shake as he reaches for the clasp. He knows the exact shape of her back as he slides it down, over the middle bump of her white bra strap. He nearly unstraps that for her, too, before he catches himself. It reeks of intimacy, doesn’t it? All of this…

His eyes linger on the soft swell of her bum before he turns around, self-disgust hammering in his throat.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he adds feebly. He balls his hands into fists as her dress hits the floor… followed by her bra. And her knickers.

“Not your fault,” she croaks, stepping into the shower. He smiles, his glasses fogging up as he moves to sit on the closed toilet seat. Even covered in blood and traumatized, she can't bring herself to blame him.

She finishes several minutes later.

“Erm… towel?” She shuts the water off. “Could you?”

“Sure,” he soothes, thrusting one through the curtain. “D’you want me to leave, or…?”

Ginny manages a weak snort. “Nah. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He chuckles at the door as he turns around again. She’s right, of course; he knows every bloody inch of her… but it’s not quite the same now.

There’s a tap on his shoulder. He whips around to face her. Admittedly, she looks… better. The blood’s gone. Her eyes are still red-rimmed from sobbing, but she’s looking a bit less like a woman who witnessed a death. Which reminds him…

“Erm. Give me a second to get it all cleaned up?”

Ginny shudders and settles on the toilet seat; he immediately kicks himself for asking. “Yeah,” she says a moment later. “Just… come get me, ok? When you’re done?”

He nods.

___________________________

It can’t be later than 10 PM when he finally carries her to the bed, still wrapped in a towel.

He’s exhausted from the nights on the sofa, but he knows she’s worse off. He’s cleaned the bedroom fairly well, he thinks, considering. There’s a rust-colored stain above the closet that he reckons won’t go anywhere anytime soon. He just hopes she doesn’t see it.

He rests her on the duvet surface, fully prepared to head downstairs for the night— but the pleading look on her face informs him he’s got other plans, instead. So without sharing a single word, he spreads his palms, lies beside her, and waits.

It comes eventually, as he knew it would. One person can’t deal with all that, see all that, without eventually cracking. And as a fellow fucked-up individual, he would know.

It starts as simple tears, ones that he wipes away. It progresses into sobs… full-body sobs. The sort he heard coming up the stairs. He’s surprised she’s got any left, but Ginny’s always been the sort to keep him on his toes. And just as her water-dark hair starts to dry and sprout red tendrils, he faces the thing he expected least of all: a kiss.

She starts softly. Slowly. Her lips so tender and soft that he forgets everything. She moans against his mouth, her whole body leaning into it; he’s instantly reminded of how much he’s fucking missed her. How lonely he’s been. How could he have forgotten the tiny mewl she makes in the back of her throat as her tongue parts his lips? He must’ve blocked it out, he realizes, as she begins to slide her body against him, panting, as she tips her head back. His lips trail down her neck, nibbling and biting, as she grips his arms and hair and bum. Because if he’d remembered all of these little details, he’d have gone mad long ago.

He’s throbbing hard by the time he gets to the tail end of her towel, which brushes the tip of her thighs. He tries to adjust himself, to—

“You can take it out, you know.”

Oh. He blinks up at her, his breath freezing in his throat. She’s peering down at him, her lips red and swollen.

“I know you’re hard,” she adds, her voice still raw. “So if it’s uncomfortable… take it out.”

He arches a brow from his position at her thigh. He’s about to retort with something snappy. Something that might keep them bantering for ages. But Ginny has no patience.

“Please.” It’s nearly a command. She blinks down with glassy eyes, her lips swollen. “I want you, Harry.”

Fuck. He groans, rubbing his cock against his palm to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn’t help for long, not that it matters; he’d rather focus on her, anyway. So with a slip of his fingers, the towel opens. She releases a breathy moan, tipping her head back.

Naked.

She’s finally naked. In front of him. His breathing grows ragged, his eyes scanning the territory somehow both totally familiar and completely new. She is thinner; he was right. Her hip bones jut out now, her stomach more sunken. But most of her is the same. The smattering of freckles on her chest. The way her breasts have puckered and darkened, the way her chest is rising and falling so fast. The thatch of dark red hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Well,” she quips. He blinks up at her as she reclines on her elbow. “Are you going to fuck me, Harry, or just stare all day?”

With that, he removes his glasses and gives her a smirk— her only real warning— before he kisses her one more time, just as his fingers spread her thighs.

She opens beneath him with a breathy sigh. Fuck, she’s so wet… he groans into her mouth as he dips his fingers further and further down. She’s dripping by the time he finds her clit… by the time he begins to swirl in tight circles. Clockwise. The pattern that screams of such intimate familiarity that it’s as if the years never passed.

He’s scarcely done anything, but she’s already writhing against his fingers, arching her back. “Please,” she slurs after a minute, “put them in.”

He’s never been one to deny her, has he?

It’s like muscle memory how quickly he finds his face between her thighs instead. He spares a moment of self-indulgence as he closes his eyes, breathing her in. She smells like home. She always has. It’s comfort… but more than that, it’s proof. Proof she wants him as much as he wants her. It’s why he stuffed his face in her knickers whenever he got a spare moment on the Horcrux hunt: one hand on that black lace, the other pulling at his cock. It’s bloody erotic, seeing proof of how much she wants him… but it’s more than that.

It’s love.

And despite all the things he’s forgotten tonight, he’d never forget this. He presses two fingers inside her, his hands shaking, and lets his body do the rest. Fuck, he’s missed this. She cries out above him, her hands grasping at his hair, tugging him closer. He’s never forgotten this… the way she tastes. The way she smells. The right way to run his tongue against her clit. Exactly how many fingers she needs, pressed against her just there… crooked in a certain position… just as she begins to thrust herself up and down on them, her cries growing louder, more insistent… and yesssss, there it is, she’s right there, right fucking there—

“Harry!” Her hair rubs against the pillow with abandon. “I’m… I’m so close,” she pants, her body starting to shake.

“Come for me,” he commands, his cock fit to burst, his face slippery. “Come for me, Ginny.”

He returns to her clit for a split-second before she says the words that change everything.

Her whole body tenses, a blush spreading up her chest. “I love you!” she cries, her voice strangled… and with that, she’s coming, clenching around him, her body shaking as he rides her through it.

What he doesn’t tell her is that he comes, too. The second those words wash over him. Those fucking words that prove he’s fucked up, fucked up, fucked up… but he can’t exactly help that, can he?

He just shoves his face into the duvet, thrusting his hips once, twice, and with a grunt, he’s off. His cock tightens and bursts, filling his boxers. Soaking through his jeans. He pulls back, dizzy, when the clenching finally stops.

Luckily, she seems too distracted to notice. Ginny’s half-asleep as he rises from between her thighs, pulling the blanket over her. He presses a kiss to her temple and makes quick work of removing his soggy clothes. Fairly embarrassing, this. Like he’s 16 again and rutting on the lawn.

He mutters a quick cleaning charm and changes into basketball shorts before settling down beside her in bed… making sure he’s on top of the duvet.

But as he drifts off, there’s something far less sentimental that hammers through his chest: They need to get their shit sorted.

Before he ever, ever lets that happen again.

#harry/ginny fanfic #harry x ginny #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

43 notes · View notes

aimasup · 4 years

Note

Maybe i'm late but, did anyone, like actually have left remus in a small place (for his claustrophobia) for like 4 hours or something just because he did something bad? If yes did anyone just stayed here and heard him suffer? Or actually tried to help him out in secret? Sorry if it is long ^^'

Deceit’s smarmy snake grin never left his confident face. Oh god, Remus was giving him the look. No one ever liked being given the look, something that no Side should ever be subject to, carrying the promise of your emotional vulnerability, a sackful of seeing through your bullshit and a dash of demented purity rivaled only by Patton. And Vir

Deceit cleared his throat, loudly and with purpose. “Well? Go on, Remus.”

Remus rolled his eyes, a childish staple of his that always looked comical. “Oh come on, Nope Rope, you and I both know you spout more shit than a bull with diarrhea after one of your nightmares. So you might as well follow it up with some tea.”

So much wrong had just come out of Remus’ mouth. The man smelled like tonsil stones on a good day yet he still managed to surprise the Sides with horrifying bouts of intellect every now and then. The slimy little bugger.

"Clearly you've remembered what I told you about calling me names."

Remus leaned happily. "Nakey Snakey."

"Remus..."

"Boop Noodle!"

"Remus."

"Dangle Fangle!"

"Remus! Shut up!"

Remus feigned offense. "I'm trying out ones that start with a D!"

"That's not my point! Now distract me with musical ditties as you were instructed, you foul wretch!"

"Slithervester Stallone-!" Remus had time to squeal before Deceit squashed his face with a pillow and snatched the remote. The game was on as if by instinct and Remus tackled him from under the pillow, shrieking muffled. Deceit whacked him on the head, hard, with the remote. Remus was distracted momentarily, so Deceit took the chance and shoved him off of him with more force than necessary, insulting him all the while.

"-you nitwit, you just can't listen, can you, you moron, you bitch, you're so thick-headed, do that again and I swear-"

"You'll what, you'll lock me in the closet?"

All of a sudden, it was like an invisible giant had drowned the room in heavy syrup. The tightness from before returned and Deceit, still breathing hard, glared at Remus with gritted teeth and panicked eyes. The Side was below him, pillow on his chest, grin gone and singlet askew.

That one sentence, although it needed no context to tell who had been on the receiving end of it, brought more distress to the deceitful side than it did to the other, strangely enough. They kept their eyes trained on each other. Neither would admit that they felt like they were breathing molasses and it wasn't sweet. The television had long ago blacked out, a deafening silence following its rather meek departure.

Remus' eyes didn't stop glowing. Deceit's didn't either. None were good signs, but Remus still said, in the rare soft tone his voice could manage at times, "That's the problem, isn't it?"

Deceit swallowed. He turned away and stared at the floor, eyes narrowed to slits. He had put down the remote with controlled harshness on the sofa. He exhaled through his nose and never made eye contact with Remus.

Everyone had their little tics. Remus hated being called scary. Roman was a compulsive perfectionist. Patton had a repression habit. And Thomas didn't want to be a bad person.

Neither did Deceit.

"You know I'm over that, right?"

"... obviously."

That could mean anything, and that wasn't even getting to which part of the question he was answering. Remus bit his tongue. His canines dug into the muscle, and he pulled them out again, breathing in the scent of his own blood. Feeling a bit better, he turned away from Deceit and stared at the black screen of the TV.

"No, really you don't have to worry about it. You worrying about it pisses me off."

Still no response.

"Deceit?" Remus couldn't help but feel a bit concerned at this exchange.

------------------

"Who--who are you?" Fun blurbled at the figure on all fours before him. Fresh tear stains still stained his cheeks, an ear-to-ear smile etched below his eyes.

Something was off. Heart had run away with someone who looked like him, and had left him alone. He'd never do that. He'd always stuck with him through anything, no matter what he said or did. But the look Heart had given him... it was as if he didn't know what to make of him all of a sudden. Less than that, even.

The figure, still cautious and poised to pounce, didn't answer. Its impossibly wide reptilian eyes glowed bright in the dark, illuminating nothing on its entirely pitch black body, and Fun could make out nothing but a few familiar features.

"Are you a--a Side too?"It flinched and hissed at him. Fun found that he didn't duck away from the grotesque mouth that opened too wide. Or more like, there wasn't anything in his head that told him it was gross. He found it cute because it was gross, in fact.

When the brown-rimmed mouth closed, it was as if it was never there. It glared at him through narrowed eyes and spat at his feet.

"Oh."

With all the pure spite radiating off of the thing, it still approached, walking perfectly on its hands and legs. It didn't look clumsy moving like that, and Fun suspected it had always been that way.

"Wh--what are you doing?"Fun tried not to find this tiny demonic thing adorable. Didn't help matters when it planted its face on his sticky, black knee (... huh.) and walked off.

Before Fun could process what just happened, it turned around with the calmest expression and stared. And waited. It wanted him to follow.

As adorable as the thing was, Fun still had his doubts. He didn't want to leave. This was where his friends were. Curious little Learning, sweet as sugar Heart, cowardly yet caring Careful. But he had a feeling they didn't want to see him again.

It broke his heart.

So with a greasy squelch, Fun struggled to his feet and went with the creature.

------------------

"Deceit, you need to stop holding yourself over that. We can't be like the Others."

The further lack of response frustrated Remus. He probably should be trying to comfort Deceit, but that wasn't his type. Tough lo--learning would have to do, it was how it always went. They couldn't afford to be wishy-washy with stuff like feelings.

"Deceit, if you don't stop feeling bad about it I'm gonna smack the shit out of you. With my bare hands. And this morning star."

"Aren't you trying too hard not to be Roman?"

Remus slammed his weapon into the pillow. "Well I think you're trying too hard to be Patton!"

"Wouldn't you think Virgil would have wanted that?" Deceit was weary. Remus breathed in sharply through his teeth and stuttered.

"What?"

"It's clear we weren't the best to him. It's not his fault he left. It was for the best. He needs better than us. He deserves better than us."

"What the fuck!" Remus threw up his hands. "What the fuck, Deceit! What happened to being your own person? What happened to not giving a shit about living up to anyone's standards?! You don't know what you're talking about, because you're tired, and you're just a hypocrite who was never able to see past your own horseshit!"

"I know."

Remus wanted to rip his hair out. Deceit's or his own, he didn't really care. "Jesus Christ! Ugh!"

He flumped into a pillow and screamed into it.

Deceit watched him.

------------------

"You know, it's kinda weird how you don't wanna be called a Side, you know? Like, you look like Heart, and we all know that Heart looks the most like Thomas. So you gotta be pretty important. If you look the most like Thomas. Next to Heart. You know what I'm saying?"

It was still silent. The quiet walk down the tattered corridor had been awkward, and now that they were up the stairs and in some padded room that was probably the creature's, Fun tried to fill the silence as the creature studied him. It prowled around Fun as he sat cross legged on the floor, leaking tar all over the place.

"And, well, Learning is super important too. And Careful. We're all super important." It brushed by his shoulder and stared at his back with interest for a good two seconds before sitting back on its haunches.

"But Learning only looks the second most like Thomas. Careful just likes his hair to be all dangly. Though he clips it back sometimes to fit in? I think? I dunno."

"Anyways, I just thought that maybe once we're done here, with." Fun looked at the creature. "Whatever this is. I could bring you back with me to the others! I just got rid of the bad stuff in me, and once I get all cleaned up, and you too, we'll be all okay again!"

The creature stopped prodding at his back and he could feel it staring into nothing. Fun couldn't help but note the lack of breath on his neck. Either it gave up trying to appear human a long time ago or it was just that short. He giggled at the thought.

But that faded away when he started feeling slight concern. It was too silent. He hated silence. Fun turned to look over his shoulder, then shuffled his body around to peer at the creature, who was now deep in thought.

"Hey bud? What's wrong with ya? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled. "I've heard that from Learning and Heart a lot. You're gonna love em. They'll help you lighten up! Trust me, we've been through lots together, they'll like you too!"

It lifted its head up and fixated him with the saddest stare anyone could give a Side. Fun felt his excitement at meeting a new friend weather away when he felt that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

A thin line of brown appeared, and widened. It's eyes darted here and there with consideration. It was choosing its words. Fun titled his head as it strained to force out words.

"Not."

"Uh. Huh? You can talk!"

"Fun."

"Wait, what are you saying?"

It bounced in place with clear frustration. After clutching its head and shaking it, it tried again.

"You. Not." It tried once more. "You. Not! You! Not! Fun!"

Fun withered under its glare, a little hurt. "I'm not fun to be with? I'm sorry, uh-"

"No!"

Fun's heart ached for the thing, confused and intrigued. All of them learned how to speak along with Thomas. How was it that this Side didn't?

"Gone."

"..."

"Fun. Gone."

"I really don't understand."

"Fun." It drew a capital F in the air. He nodded, a little less lost. It nodded too.

"Fun. Split. Gone. You. Green. Half. Heart. You. Red. Half. You." It was closer now. It stuck a finger onto Fun's chest, sorrowful expression looking like it was supposed to be welling up with tears. Its jaw trembled. "Half. Bad. Half."

"Not. Their. Fun."

Fun wasn't so sure about anything anymore. He understood it perfectly, he just really didn't want to. "You can't be serious."

It was. It looked as if it has never been more certain of anything in its life. It lowered its head.

Panic gripped him like no other and his mind began racing. He gestured wildly.

"Then--then who's that other half?! They can't go on without Fun! Thomas can't go on without Fun!" The partial emptiness that he'd been trying to ignore a long time ago had grown more apparent as he ranted. "I can't let that happen! What will they do?"

Half. Bad. Half.

It struck. 'Fun' felt his chest drop to his stomach. "They. I'm the bad half."

The creature was still as a statue."They--they think--they think the red me is--is Fun, they, Learning, Careful, H-Heart--they don't know me."

The black and green outfitted grease blob blubbered on. "It's--it's not fair! I know them! I drew pictures with Thomas, I came up with our names, I--I'm--I know what Fun knows!"

He desperately turned to the creature in front of him. "They can't do this! I-if the other me is Fun, then I'm Fun too! I'm still Fun! I still know them! I still love them! At the very least, I'm still one of Thomas' Sides!" The creature silently stared as he kept talking, as his words blurred together with cries of anguish, as he put his forehead to the floor, bunching his sash in his hands. All tears had run out earlier, and there were only bawls of despair that dissolved into whimpers.

The humanoid grease blob didn't know what to call himself anymore. But it still wasn't fair at all. The truth was that. They thought that their Fun had returned from the battle, sword held high and rid of the beast. To them, Fun was better than ever.

But what was he?

------------------

"When you explained in your dumb loophole way that my stupid ass brother wasn't me, it was the first time you had advice you didn't follow, did you?"

"Remus, you can't pretend you don't feel the same."

"Fuck off!" Remus groaned. "I'm not pretending for anything, Dee, I've said it multiple times, I have nothing I want to hide! But you can't be serious about wanting to be like Patton!"

Deceit pondered his answer. "I may or may not have considered it."

Remus let go of Deceit's shirt slowly. He still fixated him with fierce angry eyes as his fingers loosened, setting the smaller Side down a little. So he didn't actually think it. Just a passing thought. Okay then.

Deceit straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles in his outfit. And he was back to looking sullenly at the a spot on the carpet.

Remus swallowed. God, this was harder than it needed to be. He wondered if this was how Deceit felt when he was younger, rawer in his state, unable to speak in anything but opposites. He didn't have to teach Deceit how to not speak in opposites, because the more they raised each other, the more Deceit's black scales had resided and his speech freedom loosened up.

They always talked it out, they always had to stick close. So why was it so hard now?

------------------

The squeal of unbridled joy when it was introduced to noir films, the long bath chases, the practice with his creations and tentacles, the nights spent splayed out messily on the same bed after a nightmare. It was simple. So simple.

------------------

Deceit could feel the stare from Remus leaving him. God, if that moron tried to comfort him now he was going to explode. His eye would leak tears like a broken faucet and he would be a pathetic blubbering mess, and Remus would have blackmail until the day Thomas finally died.

He swore he could feel the long exhale and mutterings as Remus thought on what to say. He really didn't care, in the end. Deceit wanted nothing more than to do his job and think nothing of anything ever again. He didnt--

"Virgil's gone, and there's nothing we can or could do about it. Because of how we are. It's jackshit to say we can change our nature. Nothing. Nada. Zero." Firm hands with black acrylics gripped his shoulder and turned his tired eyes onto Remus' own.

"Feeling sorry for yourself won't change anything. Things happen, jackoff."

Deceit's breath hitched, but he didn't quite feel like crying, oddly enough. Strange that through gritted teeth and eyes that could gleam death to anyone who doesn't know Remus well, he felt more clarification than all his thoughts combined. His mind had chanted a mantra of things his whole life, and what Remus said was only one of them. Deceit had been hoping to finally hear them from an outside source. But somehow, someway, Remus had found a way to make this line of reasoning sound less harsh.

Unpredictable as always.

"Remus. I.."

He placed his hands gently on Remus' wrists, patted twice. Remus let go and studied him, an air of sternness and also nervousness apparent in his face. They simmered in the unsaid apology, sitting on the couch in their lonely, mangy living room, like it was a vague yet satisfactory ending to a movie. That was how all their arguments would usually end, but it was rarely in any way fulfilling.

Deceit thought on it. Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, he choked out a laugh. "God, we're such a mess."

Glad the tension was broken, Remus smiled, ugly shark teeth in full view. "Yeah we are. We're the Mindscape's dumpster fires."

They were delirious with more emotion than they experienced on a daily basis, and they both chortle along to Remus' weak joke. Jesus, if you could lose fat due to mental work as well as physical, Thomas would be underweight by now.

Remus shook his head. "Honestly, you can't think too much about it. Just think of all the times we battered each other in this place, and you'll feel better about the closet thing."

Deceit snorted. "How is it that I'm more affected by it than you? Like all the times you ripped out my hair."

"Or all the times you silenced us whenever you felt like it."

"Or all those times you slammed me in to a hard surface."

"Remember that one time you left me in the closet for a week?"

"I still remember how I silenced Virgil for a month."

Remus snapped his fingers. "Yeah, Virgil, I remember how many times he gave us hallucinations. Sometimes he'd give us panic attacks for the hell of it!" He laughed.

"He was always quite the hothead."

"That's not even counting his stabs. Not just with a knife."

"Knowing you, that could mean anything."

Remus swooshed his hands in a rainbow-shaped gesture gleefully."Oooooh, whatever you want it to mean!" The joke was lacking and childish, but Remus' delivery was so goofy.

Deceit chuckled, back of his hand pressed daintily to his mouth as always. Remus giggled in short bursts of high-pitched derangement along with him.

Then it dissolved into awkward silence as they pondered their situation, up at ass o' clock in the morning, sprawled over the couch in undignified manners, dim light flickering because they were too depressed to fix it, talking about unreasonable hostile behavior so casually like they were fond memories of family vacations.

"... let's go make breakfast."

"Okay, Caution Ramen."

"I'm sorry?"

"Hazard Spaghetti. Murder Spagurder."

"...what."

"Judgemental Shoelace."

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

------------------

"No! Get away!" The sobbing figure cowered away from the green and yellow-tinted Sides, if you could call them that.

Bad Thoughts put his hands out. "Woah, woah, hey, we won't hurt you! Much."

Deceit slapped Bad Thoughts as the Side, who was slowly fading into a full black and purple from the legs up, put his hands in his hair and screamed louder. "Shut up! Go away! I'm sorry! Please! I hate you! Go away!"

"Well that's a lot of mixed signals." Bad Thoughts muttered. Careful looked a lot different from what he had remembered. He was seeming more tired and grievous. A faint spark of recognition flashed across Careful's eyes when he peeked up at him, but ducked away when Bad Thoughts stretched the arm with his morning star.

Without a word, Deceit knelt down and wrapped his arms around Careful. He flinched, but he stopped sobbing at least. He was still breathing hard when BT decided to join in, planting himself as softly as he knew how to on Caution.

"You're okay," Deceit murmured. "You're alright. You won't hurt anyone. You won't do that."

Caution hiccupped, staring at the ceiling, eyes brimming with angry tears. He hissed though gritted teeth."How--how do you know? You don't understand, I cause so many problems--"

"Yeah, we do. We know that. But that's you." Remus said. "Who cares if you do? Causing problems is what we do around here. You can't blame yourself for doing what you do best."

Caution was still dubious. He was sniffling. Slowly, he put his arms on Deceit's back. "I don't want to make more trouble."

Deceit lowered his head onto his shoulder. "Just come with us. We cause trouble, but whether you want to do that is up to you."

The black was receding, but the purple still lingered a little. All four of Caution's eyes blinked.

Remus pulled away, leaving only his hand on Careful's shoulder. His old friend, who didn't know who he was, who was meeting him for the first time. "Besides, I don't think you meant to cause that breakdown."

Caution finally turned and looked, actually looked at him for the first time since they were children. "You don't?"

"Nope!"

The purple color was down to his knees again. The black was gone.

"But," Caution started, both Sides pulling back to give him space. "But, it was so unnecessary, and--and the whole damn class was watching, and the other sides were freaked out-"

"Yeah, so? It was cool! Don't you think it's some way of letting everyone know that Thomas was upset? Things were getting hairy and you pulled it off perfectly." Remus gave an exaggerated chef's kiss in the air.

"That power is something only you hold, storm cloud." Deceit said. "Like Remus said, it's who you are. It was quite the display."

Caution eyed them suspiciously. "Yeah, well, you guys would think so."

"Don't you see? If you come with us, you can learn to control that! You can choose your own rules, you can choose when you want to have influence over Thomas!" Deceit lowered his voice. "You can protect Thomas by forcing the others to hear how much you try."

Caution didn't make eye contact, finding it difficult when two people stared at once. But he was thinking about it, clearly. The others had been trying to ignore him lately, and no one had to be a genius to figure that out. The rise and fall of his chest grew a little quicker as he realized how unfair it was that he was just trying to be a Side, and Thomas didn't care. The spite and betrayal was evident in his eyes, the same that had plagued Bad Thoughts and Deceit so many times in their childhood.

It was decided.

He looked up with grim determination. "C-call me Fear."

Previous parts here and here

Claustrophobic Remus post here

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

Text

Confessions

널 잃으면 내 자신이 싫어질 것 같으니까. Because I think I would hate myself if I lost you.

Description: Jeonghan comes to you to be consoled and while cleaning his wounds, his guard drops and he confesses the feelings he’s been harboring for a while. Warnings: Swearing, blood and cuts Genre: Angst, Fluff, MafiaBoss!Jeonghan x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.9k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

The club's music echoes through the walls of the private room but it's become so familiar that I can easily ignore it. I sip from the champagne flute and let the small amount of bubbles tumble down my throat before smiling and placing a hand on the shoulder of the man who sits very close to me.

"So, you were telling me about your work?" I ask, putting in extra effort to seem extremely interested.

The man, Henry, sighs and man spreads a little wider. "Ugh, I don't particular like the line of work or my boss but the pay is too good. I can live so comfortably with it."

"Comfortable indeed." I smile sweetly, lean in closer, and rest my legs over one of his. My skin tight dress twists and I know I'm going to have to fix it when I stand up.

His hand rests on top of my thigh and my sense heighten in case he gets any ideas.

"We just finished an awfully big project and I think my hands gained two pounds of muscle from all the typing I had to do." Henry comments while flexing his other hand out in front of us.

I gasp lightly in faked astonishment. "I think you may be right. So muscle-y hands and a nice pay check are your rewards for working through a shitty job." I say and lean my head down on the hand that's on his shoulder.

His shoulders shake with a chuckle, "Now if I could find a nice girl to settle down with, that would make it perfect." He says with a sigh but there's an underlying question that I know is coming if I don't respond properly.

"You'll find her. But I don't think you're going to find her here." I say, the music still pounding against the walls, "You know the rules."

"Yeah, yeah. This place and all its rules." Henry rolls his eyes, "No touching above or below certain points. I can't order drinks for you. I can't leave the premises with you. I can't blah, blah, blah."

I glower at him slightly but he ignores me.

"Rules are meant to be broken, or is your boss really that stuck up?" He continues and I can feel the anger bubble up in my chest.

"If you didn't like the rules, you didn't have to agree to them." I remind him, "And you should be careful with what you say. You know who runs this club."

Before he can say anything back, the door to the room flies opens and my body untangles itself from Henry in a second. A floppy brown haired man walks in, the music from the club following him and invading the previously quiet room. It's Jeonghan, the owner of the club and the leader of the group that runs this part of town.

Jeonghan stumbles towards the other side of the U-shaped couch and plops himself down, hands buried in his hair and his gaze trained on the floor. His body heaves up and down with the heavy breaths he taking.

"Get out." He growls at us but my focus is on his knuckles which are beat up and red with stains of blood.

My heart picks up at the thought that he'd be hurt and then it worries as to how he got hurt.

"Come on." Henry grabs my arm and lifts me to my feet while my eyes are still on Jeonghan.

He leads me towards the door with his grip tightening on my arm. I hiss as his grip makes my nerves explode with red flags.

"Not her. Just you." Jeonghan says with a steely voice but he hasn't even moved a muscle.

"Hey, I paid for the hour." Henry spits back at Jeonghan, "I will be getting my hour."

"Get. Out." Jeonghan threatens through gritted teeth. I can feel his anger radiating off of him.

I pull my arm out of Henry's grasp and place a light hand on his chest. "Just go." I tell him, trying not to show my annoyance towards him, "Go see May, and I'm sure Wonwoo," I glance at the man in the doorway, "Will explain the situation and help you get a refund."

Henry opens his mouth to protest but I cut him off before Jeonghan explodes.

"Just go now and come back next week. Go now before you're unable to return next week." I sharpen my voice to make the urgency clear as day.

Thankfully, Henry gets the message.

"Okay. I'm gone." He says before walking out of the room.

Wonwoo closes the door and the room falls into silence besides the dull drumming of the music. Turning to look at Jeonghan, he still hasn't moved but his breaths aren't as heavy as they were.

Wordlessly, I make my way over to the cupboard where we keep everything our girls might need for a private session, including a first aid kit. Which is exactly what I'm going for. Pulling the kit out, I pull out a couple of water bottles before walking back to the couch. I place the water bottles and the first aid kit on the table before gently sitting down next to Jeonghan.

He doesn't even flinch as I lean in to inspect the cuts on his knuckles.

"You okay?" I ask when I'm confident none of his cuts need stitches.

Jeonghan doesn't respond with words but just nods his head once.

"Will you let me clean your hands?" I ask softly, my heart aching that whatever happened is the reason he's not acting like his normal self.

Again he doesn't speak or move but just nods his head.

I walk back over the cupboard and grab a small towel before returning to the couch. Pulling an empty glass over to me, I open a water bottle and fill the glass. I wet the towel in the glass and turn my body to face Jeonghan. Watching closely for any reaction, I gingerly pull one of his hands out of his hair and towards me. He lets me do so without any resistance so I start wiping away the blood with the towel.

"He's relentless." Jeonghan mumbles and lowers his head further.

"Who is?" I ask though I have a gut feeling I know exactly who he's talking about.

"Grayson." He says and his voice is straining to keep himself calm.

My heart drops upon hearing the name of the man who is determined to take me. I try to ignore the fear prickling my skin by focusing on cleaning Jeonghan's hand.

I drag the towel over a particularly red spot and Jeonghan hisses.

"Sorry." I apologize and blow some air over the area to cool it down.

I work the towel down his fingers and wipe the trails of red off his smooth skin.

"He keeps showing up," He says and lets out an angry breath, "And I swear the next time I'm going to blow hi- Ah!" He yelps as I run the towel over another open cut. "Careful." He scolds me and looks me in the eyes.

I inhale sharply at the state of his face more than the fact that he jumped. His bottom lip is busted, a nasty looking bruise is forming on his cheek, and he has a cut above his eyebrow that has blood smeared around the skin. Instinctively, I grab his chin and turn his head to inspect his injuries.

"What happened?" I ask with more concern laced into my voice than I had intended.

He pulls his head out of my grasp and looks away from me. "Hopefully a good threat."

I let my hand fall back to his hand but my eyes never leave his face, "Just tell me he looks worse." I plead with concern.

Jeonghan smirks, "You think I would let a nobody like him beat me like this without leaving him faring worse? I'm pretty sure he'll be nursing his wounds for weeks."

I frown slightly hearing the amount of damage he caused but at the same time, a weight lifts off my shoulders in relief that the other guy is worse off. I finish cleaning his one hand before reaching into the first aid kit for some gauze.

"You don't have to put that on." Jeonghan says, glancing back at my actions as I place some antibiotic ointment on the open cuts.

"I do and I will." I tell him before wrapping his knuckles with the gauze. "Otherwise you'll get infected and that's not good."

Jeonghan huffs in annoyance but doesn't say anything else. After his one hand is wrapped, I move to his other hand. I make quick work of cleaning this hand but the silence sitting around us makes the time seem to drag out for hours. By the time I'm done wrapping the second hand, neither of us has notice that I've scooted closer to him.

Dipping the towel into the water glass, I wring out the pink tinted water before forcing Jeonghan's face to look at me. Starting with the cut on his eyebrow, I clean off the skin farthest from the cut and make my way closer. His eyes watch my face intently and it takes everything in me not to meet his gaze. With every second that he stares at me, my heart picks up speed until it's pounding against my chest like the bass of the music against the walls.

Carefully, I wipe away the blood in his eyebrow before hesitating to wipe at the cut.

"This might sting." I say in a tiny voice, blinking my eyes down to meet his piercing gaze.

He wraps an arm around my waist and closes his eyes in response. The weight of his arm on my waist is heavy and won't be easily ignored. With a steadying breath, I wipe at the cut to clean it out. Just as the towel makes contact with the

open wound, he sucks in a breath and his hand grips my hip.

"Sorry." I whisper as I continue to gingerly wipe at the cut. "Okay." I tell him while setting the towel down and picking up the ointment.

Jeonghan opens his eyes as I place some ointment onto his cut to help it heal but his hand stays around my waist.

"You know," I say, switching to the towel again, "You're pretty bloody for someone who's nickname is 'clean hands.'" I bring the towel up to his lip and carefully wipe it.

A smile tugs at his lips but the stretching of the skin makes him stop immediately and groan in pain. The cut starts to bleed slightly again and I dab the towel against it to keep the blood from trickling down his chin.

"Careful." I remind him softly. "Do you need any pain killers or anything?" I ask him, pressing the towel to his lip again and glancing up at his eyes.

He watches me with soft eyes for a heartbeat before shaking his head. "No, I can handle it."

I frown at his answer, but decide to leave it alone. Pulling the towel away, I'm glad to see that his lip has stopped bleeding so, I put some ointment over it. Capping the ointment tube, I try to scoot away but Jeonghan's grip around my waist tightens.

I glance down at his arm before back up at his face with a questioning look.

"Just humor me a bit." He says calmly but I think I catch a bit of embarrassment in his voice. He reaches for one of the filled champagne glasses but I quickly grab it out of his hand.

Jeonghan gives me a 'what the fuck' look but I just grab the other glass. "Drink mine. I'm pretty sure I saw him slip something into his and I don't want you to find out what it was." I explain, placing my glass into his frozen hand and setting Henry's glass onto the table.

"He's never coming back here." Jeonghan shakes his head and brings the glass to his lips, taking a sip out of it. "His first time and he goes and breaks the rules."

"Rookie mistake." I comment and lean in closer to him.

Relaxing against his shoulder, I think back to the reason he's all cut up like this.

"You know Grayson's probably going to keep coming back." I sigh with downcast eyes.

"I know." Jeonghan says and rubs his thumb against my side. Even though there's the fabric of my dress in between, my skin still tingles with his touch. "But I'm setting up a plan to make sure you're safe."

"What plan?" I question, looking up at him and ignoring the last part of the sentence.

His jaw clenches and he takes another sip to calm himself, "You're not going to be out on the floor anymore." He explains, resting the champagne glass on his thigh, "I've been looking for someone to manage the girls and I want you to do it. And until that creep leaves, you will go home escorted or you will stay here if you need to."

My heart skips a beat at his suggestion. Stay here? The same place he stays? The upper levels that we're hardly ever allowed into?

Before my brain can stop itself, I ask, "Why?"

Jeonghan pauses and I can feel all the air in the room vaporize like boiling water on a negative 40 degree (Fahrenheit but it's the same in Celsius) day. I start to majorly regret asking the question but when he looks down at me and the softness of his eyes wipes away any regret.

"Because I think I would hate myself if I lost you." He says softly. So softly, in fact, that it's a stark contrast to the sharp edges of his features and his usual voice.

"I would never go willingly." I say, internally cringing when my voice hitches slightly.

"I know that, but I don't want it to come to that." Jeonghan murmurs.

I smile softly and hear the care in his words, but I still can't help myself from asking, "But why me?"

He lets out an airy chuckle, "You're really going to make me say it?"

"How will I know if you don't?" I answer his question with a question and a slight smirk.

"Because as much as I hate to say it or admit it, you've become my weakness." He explains and I inhale in surprise, "The first day you came here, knowing who I was and what my reputation was, and yet, you wouldn't leave until I agreed to take you in. You care the other girls and keep the guests in line better than any of my men ever could. You keep this place running like a proper establishment. Not to mention you're absolutely beautiful." He finishes and a blush creeps onto my cheeks.

"If I had it my way, you wouldn't even be working at the club but I figured you'd fight me on that." Jeonghan adds with a twinkle in his eye.

I giggle, "You were right about that. I'm not leaving the other girls alone." I take a breath before asking, "But if I wasn't working here, where would I be and what would I be doing?"

He looks away bashfully, "Hopefully, you'd be at my side and you'd be doing whatever you wanted."

"You're beating around the bush, Jeonghan." I lean away from him to look at him properly.

"God, you're so infuriating sometimes, you know that?" Jeonghan says and leans his head back.

"I like things blunt and to the point. And you are certainly not giving me that right now." I bluntly tell him, not caring how it may have sounded if anyone else was around.

He lifts his head back up, sets the champagne flute down before bringing his hand to cup my cheek, "Another reason I'm absolutely, most definitely falling for you."

My heart flutters like the wings of a million humming birds and I feel like I can hardly breathe, in a good way.

Jeonghan stares into my eyes, searching for any reaction while leaning in extremely slowly. "You can stop me." He reminds me, "There are rules."

"And if I want to break the rules?" I question him, not breaking my gaze.

By now, he's so close I swear I can feel his lips ghosting against mine, "Then I'll add it to the list of things that make me fall for you." He whispers before crashing his lips onto mine.

His lips are soft as they move against mine as easily as waves across the sea. The arm around my waist pulls me closer to him and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him harder.

Pulling away sooner than I would have liked, he rests his forehead against mine, the tip of his nose barely touching mine.

"What are you going to do about Grayson?" I quietly ask and he growls in disgust.

"I'll make sure he chooses to stay away or I'll make the choice for him." Jeonghan says through gritted teeth and I move my hands to his shoulders in hopes to calm him a little.

"And I think I'll stay by your side." I tell him to get his mind off of Grayson.

"That's all I ask for." Jeonghan smiles before pressing his lips against mine again.

#kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen jeonghan imagine #seventeen jeonghan #jeonghan imagine #yoon jeonghan imagine #yoon jeonghan #seventeen imagines #jeonghan imagines #writer-k-pop

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

Text

[ too scared to say ]

pairing: tsukishima kei x f!reader

word count: 1.6k words

contains: slight angst, tsukishima with insecure!s/o cause he’s usually the insecure one in fics, another wedding-themed fic

a/n: had this idea for a while and i’m glad i’ve finally written it. it’s usually tsukki’s who’s insecure and guarded in xreader fics so i wanted to try it out with the reader being insecure this time

i love you.

you're caught off-guard when you hear the words from tsukishima's mouth. you never thought you'd ever hear him actually say them. as much you wished for it to happen, especially after you spent three years of high school doodling his name in the margins of your notebook, it feels too good to be true.

tsukishima looks sincere about it though. you're both seated on the couch in your apartment and even though it's pouring outside and the electricity had died, you can still make out his face in the dim lighting. you can tell it took him a great deal of effort to say that: his eyes are focused on the cushion on his lap as he picks at a stray thread, the sound of his breathing is more audible now as he inhales deeply.

this is the time where you say it back but the words catch themselves in your throat. after all, weren't you the one who got yourself into trouble for being too naive all the time? after leaving high school and all hopes of tsukishima ever liking you back behind, you tried your hand at relationships. you thought every single one of them would be your last, only to find that you had deluded yourself yet again.

meeting tsukishima again, years after high school, felt like a weird universal coincidence that you didn't know if you should thank for yet. even more so when he admitted to his feelings for you back then.

"so, what do we do about it now?" you asked.

"i'd... like to give this a shot," tsukishima said, rubbing the back of his head. you were reluctant, but agreed anyway.

you've said 'i love you' before, more than a few times. and yet, you couldn't say it now.

"aren't you... jumping to conclusions a bit?" you asked, nervously letting out a laugh.

"what do you mean?" tsukishima frowns slightly.

"just, saying that you might not be sure about that yet so... slow down a bit before saying things like that," you shrugged.

"what? you think i don't know my own feelings?" tsukishima scoffs. there's a look of hurt on his face and you can't exactly blame him for it.

"i'm sorry, tsukki," you apologize, resting your hand in the middle of the couch between you except he doesn't reach for it.

"it's fine," he shakes his head, focusing now on the wall in front of him. "i know you're not really the person you once were and, i don't mind that at all cause neither am i. sometimes, it really feels like you have a wall up."

you find yourself flinching slightly at that last part. maybe this is the part when things go south, like they always do. except, you feel sad that it had to happen with tsukishima too.

but he doesn't act like how you expect him to. "if you need time, it's fine with me," is all he says. tsukishima doesn't sound exasperated, nor frustrated at all. but he does stand up and head for the door.

'you can stay,' you think, 'please stay.'

but all you can bring yourself to say is: "take an umbrella. it's pouring outside."

...

that was about a week ago and tsukishima has barely heard from you then. he didn't know what else to do aside from give you space, and also silently regret things. maybe he was too hasty in saying that he loved you.

but, that was what he truly felt, and it wasn't easy for him to say but he did it anyway. 'you're not always losing anything when you open yourself up to someone,' akiteru had told him. and now, tsukishima was riding a bus on the way to his older brother's wedding.

he had just hung his tux on the curtain rod above the window and settled into his seat though when he caught a familiar flash of blue. of course, tsukishima would recognize your favorite dress and sat up in his seat to see you walking down the center aisle. he watched as you looked around for a seat before landing on the last empty one in the bus, which happened to be right next to tsukishima's.

"hey."

"hey," tsukishima swallowed as you approached.

"is this seat taken?" you asked.

"no, go ahead," tsukishima shook his head, his eyes distracted by the familiar dry-cleaners bag that you held in your hands. "let me help you with that," he offered, taking the hanger from your hands and hanging it up beside his tux.

“saeko nee-san invited me to the wedding,” you explained as soon as you sat down beside tsukishima. “congratulations to your brother, by the way.”

“thanks. we all, kind of saw it coming,” tsukishima chuckled. now that you were here, he realized just how much he missed you.

“i’m sorry for not calling or anything, by the way,” you apologized. “i can’t say that this is all new to me but, it’s just... well... i’ve been in other relationships before and sometimes, it feels like things repeat themselves too much.”

tsukishima nodded, remembering the night when you two met again after so many years. he was working the counter at the bar and noticed you sitting there, obviously dressed up for a date, obviously stood up in that said date too. you were very much different from the young girl who used to invite him and yamaguchi to watch the latest romance movie theaters, the one who sang songs at the top of your lungs in your bedroom, loud enough for those downstairs to here. but that didn’t mean he liked you any less.

“hey,” he laid a hand on top of yours. “why don’t we just enjoy today? you still love going to weddings, right?”

you smiled gratefully and chuckled. “yeah, that hasn’t changed.”

...

you fully expected to run into tsukishima at his own brother’s wedding and had thought twice about going before talking sense into yourself. and now, you were glad to have gone.

the wedding was absolutely charming and more than a few of your old high school friends came. you and tsukishima were seated with yamaguchi and yachi at the same table and chatted about old times and what the volleyball duo was up to. saeko looked stunning in her dress and akiteru cried more than a few times during the ceremony. tsukishima looked proud of his brother, and more than a little tired of his new brother-in-law.

“they look really good together,” you sighed, smiling at akiteru and saeko who were breakdancing in the middle of the dance floor, the latter doing much better than the former.

“yeah,” tsukishima chuckled. “they barely met each other in high school but i could tell nii-chan was star-struck when they met at the shiratorizawa match.”

“and now look at them,” you giggled. “kind of the opposite of us, in a way.”

“yeah, because you were definitely head over heels for me,” tsukishima snickered. you smacked his arm with the back of your hand.

“and you were too dense to realize it,” you countered.

“not exactly. just thought it was too good to be true,” tsukishima smiled wryly.

“we should have been accidentally locked into a room together to force us to admit our feelings.”

“you and your romance movie cliches.”

you chuckled at that. “just saying. would have made things way easier for everyone.” you sighed again and remembered the confession letter you had penned to tsukishima before deciding to stash it away in your desk. then, you turned to tsukishima who was watching his brother and sister-in-law dance.

maybe you were going to enjoy yourself tonight.

“hey, tsukishima?”

“yeah?”

“wanna dance with me?”

...

with the dancing and frequent visits to the wine bar, you ended up enjoying the wedding immensely. but as much as you didn’t want to, it was finally time to go home. you and tsukishima didn’t even bother changing out of your formal clothes before catching the last bus back home. your hair had escaped from its pins and you were definite that there was mascara smudged under your eye. tsukishima’s tie hung loosely around his neck and he had already unbuttoned the upper part of his shirt.

all of the dancing tired him out way more than you, but it was a pleasant surprise for him to comply with your request. you also had the wine to thank for tsukishima deciding to break dance for about a minute when his older brother asked him to.

as soon as he was seated, tsukishima was out like a light with his head leaned back against the seat and his mouth slightly hanging open. looking at him, you realized that he was someone you didn’t want to let go. dating him was scarier because of that and you didn’t want tsukishima to be one of those people you were eventually going to say goodbye to.

but how could he be that person if you don’t ask him to stay in the first place?

once again, you remembered the confession letter that you had wrote to him all those years ago. there was a tremble in your hand when you wrote down the last line of that letter, so much that it screwed up the writing and you decided not to send the letter anyway. you glanced at tsukishima’s misty reflection in the fogged up glass of the bus before using your finger to write down that line.

i love you

the words looked like they were suspended in the air and fragile enough to be blown away by the wind. with a swipe of your hand, you could easily erase the message.

and that’s when tsukishima wakes up.

his sleepy eyes travel from you to the message written on the window and his eyes widen when he realizes what you’ve written down. with a smile, he leans over, and writes a word right under your message.

i love you too

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

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george-fabian-weasley · 4 years

Text

Oliver Wood - Shoot My Shot

Summary: You and Oliver Wood have been enemies since your first Quidditch game during your second year. You, being a Slytherin makes it far harder to find a liking to the Gryffindor boy, yet somehow you managed to do so. While playing a Quidditch match of Slytherin against Gryffindor, you decided to shoot your shot, literally and figuratively.

Words: 2,522 words

Warning ⚠ : Cheesy, Fluff, Only the Good Stuff, The Sexual Tension Is Real™

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"Oi, Wood!" You shouted as you looked up. The Slytherin Quidditch Team had just arrived to the field to have a few hours of practice for an upcoming match against Gryffindor. As if they have been summoned, the Gryffindor Team had just finished their practice. Oliver Wood, the captain slash Keeper for the team looked down to see you, and snickered, “Y/L/N!”

As he flew down, he smirked at you and your team, “What’s the occasion here, lads?” You scoffed, glaring at him, “What do you think, Wood? Doing a theater play?”

He laughed, “Now, why so tense, Y/L/N? Did someone put Puking Pastilles inside your drink?” You rolled your eyes as you folded your arms, “No, but I do remember a pair of redheads sneaking Dungbombs under my bed a couple of days ago. Any idea who they are, Wood?”

As if on cue, the Weasley twins came swooping down laughing hysterically, Oliver was obviously trying to hide a laugh by hiding his lips, “N-nope, no idea, sorry.”

Oh, he definitely knew.

“Funny.” You sneered, when suddenly a certain small body flying around caught your attention. “Is that...?” You trailed off, squinting to look better. Oliver followed your eyes and shrugged, “Harry Potter? Yeah.”

You gave him a look, and he understood it completely, sighing, “I know the chiseler’s a first year but McGonagall wanted him to be a Seeker. Can’t say no now, can I?”

You shrugged back, “No matter, we’ll simply beat your arses this time at the match.” You smirked, and Oliver mirrored your expression with a scoff. “Oh yeah?” He walked closer, almost looked like he was about to kiss you.

You had a silent staring match, his eyes on you and vice versa. If anyone didn’t know better, they’d say you two were lovebirds. With a soft smirk on his lips, he inched closer to you, his nose slightly grazing your cheek.

“We’ll see about that, Y/L/N.” He whispered closely to your ear, the breeze of his breath hit your ear softly. He inched away and gave you a wink, a playful one as he walked away with the rest of his team.

You huffed in annoyance, seeing his obnoxiously fit body slowly disappearing into the ring. You won’t ever admit to anyone, not even a single soul, at how he had you so bothered.

In a good way.

You turned around to your team who witnessed the whole thing, some of them playfully smirking at you. You sneered in disgust, “What are you idiots looking at? And what the bloody hell are you waiting for? Practice!” At your command, your teammates fleeted away on their brooms to their designated places, leaving you alone on the ground.

You took a few deep breaths trying to calm your heart down, but with bloody Oliver Wood out there simply existing, you found your heart picking up its pace. You groaned in annoyance at the flustered heartbeat, yet you couldn’t sneak away the small shy smile your lips had etched on.

After practice, you returned to the Slytherin common room. You were exhausted, everything was a mess. As a beater, you used the nerve-wrecking excitement Oliver Wood caused you to have earlier for the better, by beating the Bludger as hard as you can.

One of the reasons you love Quidditch, it allows you to express your anger and frustrations, and sometimes excitement, through something else without hurting anyone else, well, involuntarily.

UGH.

The Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor will be held in two days, you have no time to fawn over Oliver Wood, no matter how handsome, or witty, or funny, or-

You slapped yourself with a nearby pillow, physically shooing away those unholy thoughts. ‘You’re the bloody captain, for Merlin’s sake! You can’t be thirsting over the captain of the opposing team!’ Your mind shouted.

Yeah, as if you didn’t know that already.

Suddenly, someone tapped you on the shoulder. You looked up from the dark green pillow to see a little boy with metallic blonde slicked back hair.

You sighed, “If you’re here to be a part of the Quidditch team, then you know my answer-” “But if Potter can join in first-year, then I can too!” Draco Malfoy retaliated.

“Yeah, but Potter is a Gryffindor whose teacher is Minerva McGonagall, Draco. You really think Mr. Severus Snape would allow a first year to join Quidditch?” You asked him back in a tired tone. This wasn't the first time Draco had asked you to join the Quidditch team as soon as he found out Harry joined. And seems like it’s not going to be the last either. You saw his eyes darted away for a few moment to think, then he reverted them back to you sadly, “But Y/N...”

You felt pity for the boy, sometimes you felt like he feels inclined to beat Potter in everything he does. And being his older cousin doesn’t help, because you knew how severe Uncle Lucius can get around the little boy. If it weren’t for your parents, you would’ve taken Draco under your wings as your little brother already.

“Look, Draco...” You sighed, trying your best to be understanding towards the boy, even if he gets on your nerve sometimes. “My answer is still no, but you can join in next year if you want it that terribly. Terrence Higgs is graduating and won’t be here next year, so there would be an empty spot for a Seeker. The best I can do is save you a spot.” You offered. He sighed, and grumbled a ‘fine’.

“But if I don’t get it next year, my father will hear about this!” “Your father is my uncle, Draco. The one telling him first would be me, do you understand?” You voiced out sternly, Draco cowered immediately at your dominance. “Yes, Y/N.” He said quietly.

“Now run along, Draco. Your friends are waiting.” you softened your voice to him. He left, and you sighed. Sometimes, you needed to be stern to that boy, or else he’s going to treat everyone like his minions. 11 years old and already sound as snobbish as his father, sigh.

The next day, Slytherin and Gryffindor shared a classroom for Transfiguration class by Professor McGonagall. Unfortunately, she made everyone sit with the opposite house. And guess where she placed you?

“What’s with the long face, Y/L/N?” Oliver snickered as you moved to sit beside him. You gave him a sickly sweet smile, before frowning again, “Neither of us want to be here, so shut it.” You muttered.

“Oh no, darling, I want to be here. The one who doesn’t is you.” He chuckled as he supported his head with his arm, turning himself completely towards you. You grimaced, in spite of the increased heartbeat over the nickname, “Is this how you flirt, Wood? It’s so pathetic.”

Oliver smirked and leaned to you ridiculously close, “Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing?”

?????!!!!!!!!

You scoffed in surprise, the audacity of this lad made you speechless. And then you felt it. The heat rushing up your cheeks, making it glow red. The blush in your cheeks just widened his smirk, “If I’m being correct here, Y/N Y/L/N, you look like you like me.” He whispered and bit his bottom lip.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt of embarrassing you more. Despite your heartbeat going crazy, you won’t let him cod you. So you leaned closer, Oliver was obviously surprised and stunned, your noses were almost rather touching each other, as you whispered, “And so, what if I do? What do you do then, Oliver?”

You had never called him Oliver. You both knew that.

“Mr Wood and Ms Y/L/N,” McGonagall’s voice made you both flinch away rather quickly. “I would really appreciate if you could continue your love drama somewhere else and focus on my class, thank you.”

“Sorry, Ma’am.” You heard Oliver mutter, as he glanced at you with rosy cheeks. You couldn’t dare to spare him another glance throughout the whole class.

What the bloody hell was that?

Next day came like a pop, and you were getting ready to throw everything in to the match. The last Gryffindor vs Slytherin match, you had won. And you were definitely certain to repeat that once again. After putting on your uniforms and safety gear, you went outside to the pitch. The whole school was there cheering you on. The jitters from before had flown out of the window, the adrenaline was now kicking in. You flew on your broomstick to the air, all of your other teammates were already there, the other Beater in your team nodded at you, and you nod back.

Looking to your front, Fred and George Weasley smirking nastily at you.Those two were as violent as a bloody honey badger when it comes to Quidditch, you groaned as you imagined the pain those rascals will be giving you soon. At the far back of the Gryffindor Team, was Oliver Wood, already at his post, the middle goal. As he caught your eyesight, he winked and mouthed, "Good luck." You smirked at him and just motioned your thumb across your neck, causing him to scoff.

The whistle started, the Bludger was released, the cheers erupted, and the game has begun.

You flew everywhere to keep the Bludger off of your teammates as your Chasers tried to goal some scores. A Gryffindor, Lee Jordan was the commentator of the day, and you could hear his shouts and comments on your every move. Knowing how distracting that could be, you tried your best to block his voice and focus on the game. With the bat in your hand, you swung the Bludger with it with full force to one of the Gryffindor Chasers, but they were saved by the twins.

Once in a while, you would glance at Oliver, watching him catching every single quaffle and toss it back out to the field, successfully protecting his goal. You always knew Oliver Wood is a great Keeper, but Merlin, he sure did shine that day.

The game continued until the second half, time out. You flew down and drank a hella lot of water and cast a pain relief charm on your left arm. One of the Weasleys had Bludgered your arm pretty nastily, and you weren't too keen to find out whether it's broken or not. After muttering "Lenio," to the rest of your body, you flew back out. The score currently was 20 to 30, Gryffindor was leading.

Either your Seeker gets the Snitch, or your Chasers score another 2 goals to win this match.

Suddenly, you got an idea. It's a pretty terrible idea, but an idea nonetheless. What if you distract Oliver Wood so your team can shoot goals? 'That's a stupid idea, Y/N.' Your heart voiced out, but hey, either go big or go home.

So you went on with your plan once the whistle started. As you Bludgered one of the twins (consider it karma), you flew close to Oliver, who eyed you curiously. "Decided to visit me in the middle of the game, Y/L/N?" He said loudly, the cheering made it harder to converse.

"If I win this match," you said loudly, sort of multi-tasking as one of the Weasleys tried to Bludger you again as you beat the Bludger off with your bat. Oliver faced you, waiting for you to go on.

"If you win this match...?" "If I win this match, you owe me a date to Hogsmeade!"

Oliver had his eyes widened, "A what?" He managed to say before swerving another quaffle out of his goalpost. Your teammates were now eye-ing you in confusion, what the bloody hell are you doing there at Gryffindor's goalpost rather than protecting your teammates?!

"A date!" You shouted. For a second, Oliver was in a blur and then cracked up a big smile, "And if you lose?" he remarked. You rolled your eyes, the small grin your lips widened significantly, "If I lose, then it's your choice!"

After that you went back to your original position, ignoring the glares of your teammates. The game went on until Harry Potter had caught the Snitch, spitting it out from his mouth.

Gryffindor won.

As disappointed as you were that you lost, you were more disappointed over the fact that Oliver now owes you nothing.

... Maybe your plan wasn't to distract him all along.

After the match had finished, you found yourself at the hospital wing, tending to your broken arm. Madam Pomfrey had said if it weren't for the pain relief charm, you wouldn't even be able to hold a broomstick mid-air without immense pain. The Weasleys were beside you seemingly injured as well, and you shook their hands professionally before they left.

It's just a game. Good sportsmanship is far better than continuous winning streaks.

"Y/N." You looked up to see Oliver, standing near your hospital bed. You groaned in embarrassment, "You owe me nothing, Wood. Now go away." "Yeah, about that," Oliver was fiddling with his sleeves, his broomstick was placed between his armpit and arm. Oliver Wood looked... Nervous?

"You said before that if you lose, then I get to decide, right?" He said, furrowing his eyebrows at you, licking his lips. You slowly nodded, already thinking of possible things he'd want you to do.

Oh no, does he want you to run around the hallway naked? Or does he want you to cast 'Riddikulus' to Snape? Or does he want you to be the Bludger puppet for the twins for a week? Or-

"You owe me a date to Hogsmeade."

W...what?

You were now a blushing mess. Both of you. "B-but I thought you hated me?" you asked, the heartbeat of yours was really close to a rhythm of a heavy rain. Oliver widened his eyes in shock, denying that thoroughly, "No, I don't! I actually... like you since the second year. You know, after the match?"

You remembered your first Quidditch match in your second year, that was the first time you ever laid eyes on Oliver. Both of you had broken an arm and a leg, and your beds were side by side. For 2 days, you had talked to each other like friends, but as soon as your senior came by and visited you, he prohibited you to talk to a filthy Gryffindor. Being brainwashed since young, both of you hated each other.

Well, at least you thought so.

"So... What do you say?" He asked, looking rather nervous again. You were speechless, your lips were suddenly dry, you were suddenly conscious of how you looked like at the moment. "Wait, so all those times, like at McGonagall's class and at the field, you really were flirting?"

He grimaced in cringe, rubbing his neck and looking away, "I guess you were right about my flirting being pathetic." He laughed shyly. That made you laugh, it made you break out from that awkward phase you had just now. "But you were right, though?" You teased, tilting your head to him playfully, smiling genuinely to the boy.

"I do like you."

COMPLETE!

#oliver wood x reader #oliver wood #oliverwood #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy #weasley twins #hogwarts #quidditch

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years

Text

Two is company, Three's a Crowd, but Four is the Death of Diana Cavendish (4): Dumb and Dumbass

A/N: Sorry for not writing enough recently. Been burnt out and have some terrible writer’s block. Hope I can write quite a bit these next two weeks before classes start up again. Had my finals recently and just... ugh.

Sorry for the not-so-good chapter.

Right. Tagging people. Uh @komatsuna-yuki @dianacavendishisgay @tanuki-pyon. Thank you for supporting my madness.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Two is company, Three's a Crowd, but Four is the Death of Diana Cavendish (4): Dumb and Dumbass

"This is dumb."

"It is not! Right, Barbara?"

"This is dumb."

Diana switched her exasperated gaze between the pair who had their arms crossed, vehemently against her "step one" of the plan: Proper Courtship for Miss Kagari Atsuko.

There was absolutely NO way they were doing that.

Hannah ran a hand through her curled locks, freeing it from her signature yellow bow as they got ready for bed. She tried to ignore Diana's pleading eyes, but ultimately could not. She took one look at Diana's helpless face and sighed, walking forward to pinch her nose and plant a kiss on her forehead.

Really, courtship wasn't the issue in and of itself. It was Diana's view of courtship. There were just too many things to be said about it.

Starting from the issue of daily sending a truckload of roses to Akko every morning.

Literally.

She lived in a DORMITORY for crying out loud!

How was she supposed to receive them, much less keep them around??

It wasn't as though she had the luxury of living in a flat a little too big for just its occupants- just like their own right now. Hannah sighed, giving Diana a look. She received an indignant one in return.

Physical constraints aside, how would Akko feel receiving such an overwhelming gift? She already exploded in embarrassment from the simplest of flirtations. Who knew what her reaction would be to such a grandiose gesture of affection?

Hannah concluded it would be best to keep it simple, walk it slow. Ease into the already shocking situation they'd kiiindd of threw her in.

Okay, but Hannah didn't desire anything too slow either. Just right. Enough that Akko wouldn't spontaneously combust beyond recovery.

Holding out a pointer finger, with the other arm crossed about her waist, Hannah warned, "I swear, if I see even one petal, we're not talking to you tomorrow. And we're taking Atsuko with us too".

"One petal?!" Diana gawked at her with such pure incredulity, Hannah wondered if she was really all that shocked.

The look on her face almost made Hannah reconsider. Almost. She thought about it again, pausing and tapping her cheek in contemplation.

"Okay."

Diana's face lit up in hope.

"Maybe I'll allow two."

Nope.

"Morning, Atsuko~."

Akko jumped in her seat as she felt cool arms snake around her neck from behind, a soft weight pressing against her back. The scent of honeysuckle permeated her sense of smell. It was fruity and warm; like hints of honey and ripe citrus on a summer's day. For some reason, it made her calm immediately.

Turning around, Akko tried to return the greeting. "M-Miss Engl-" A finger quickly hushed her lips, Hannah's coy smile settling in while Akko's heart became unsettled. She didn't think it was in a bad way.

"Hannah. Call me Hannah."

"Mi-"

Akko would have tried to gently deny that request, not being one to so quickly drop formalities as was her upbringing before coming to England. However, there was just something in Mis- Hannah's eyes that compelled her to not even try to fight against the command.

"Y-you can call me Akko then,, .I-if you want! Only... if you want... it's... it's what my friends call me..."" Akko mumbled in reply, voice growing smaller and smaller as she shyly pried her eyes away from the magnetic hazels that were so keen on pulling her in.

She had missed the way her companion grinned, leaning in closer to her, arms tightening about her. "Adorable." Hannah playfully whispered into Akko's ear, the tips reddening brightly.

'Save me.'

"Oh, but we don't want to be just 'friends'." Barbara suddenly popped up, positioning herself right in Akko's line of vision, propping her elbows on her desk, face nestling in her hands comfortably as she smirked at Akko with a little wink. "But you already know that."

She watched as Hannah and Barbara shared a quick, sweet kiss as a good morning greeting. Eyes glinting as they caught Akko watching them.

"Oh? Do you want a nice "hello~" as well, Akko? I wouldn't mind~." Barbara grinned, fingers tilting Akko's chin up already, eyes flickering between Akko's own and her lips.

Akko felt her face burn that extra bit more. She wasn't going to make it through class like this if they kept teasing her so early in the morning.

Barbara was beginning to lean closer and closer as Hannah simply watched from behind Akko, inadvertently keeping her in place due to their positions.

Akko swallowed nervously. Sure, she did not necessarily have any qualms against kissing someone as pretty as Barbara. Even Hannah maybe, but at the very least, she wanted to have her fi-first kiss with...

"Girls."

Diana's arrival shook Akko out of a trance she had unknowingly been placed under. She had somehow expected, at the back of her mind, for Diana to arrive soon as the trio was rarely apart except for when they had separate classes.

Akko felt her heart do a little flip in her ribcage, breath stilling in her lungs at the refreshing sight of Diana in a ponytail, a pale nape and a slender neck exposed for the world to see. A bead of sweat rolled down the smooth expanse. Had it been hot outside? Maybe. For some reason, Akko just wanted to lean into the crook of Diana's neck and maybe-

Diana's cough told her she'd been staring an uncomfortable while. Akko flinched, her hand instinctively reached up to touch her bangs, smoothing out each strand of hair nervously in attempts to redirect her thoughts- wherever they were heading.

This was neither the time nor place to be having such... inappropriate musings.

"Aww~ Diana's so lucky to be the favorite girlfriend~." Barbara said with a pout as she observed the awkward two, pulling away from her initial position on the desk and walking around to take a seat next to Akko instead, leaning her head on the girl's shoulder.

"Right?" Hannah sighed, finally releasing Akko as she went to sit next to Barbara. "We put in all this effort to fluster our dear Akko, but Diana just has to breathe and she has her heart and her soul. Oh Barbara~ whatever shall we do?" She sniffled, wiping away a non-existent tear with her index finger.

Akko stared at the pair, mind short-circuiting at a particular word.

Diana was silent as well.

Hannah and Barbara exchanged a confused look at the lack of reaction, as well as Diana's frozen state.

"Um... did we perhaps say something wrong?" Hannah began nervously, not wanting to possibly offend Akko or hurt her like they could have the last time.

Barbara bit her lip, equally anxious. "If so, then-"

"G-girlfriend?!" Diana and Akko had burst simultaneously, earning looks from the few early students around them.

Akko bowed in silent apology as she turned back to her companions.

"W-what do you... what are you...?"

"Huh?" Hannah and Barbara tilted their heads in confusion.

"Eh?"

"What?"

"G-Girlfriend...?" Diana repeated, vision swirling as her face reddened.

"Aahhh..." Hannah and Barbara got the message, nodding... before doing a double-take. "Wait, we're not? Girlfriends?"

//-//

Akko slammed her head onto her locker door right after shutting it. She shuffled her subject materials for the next class in her hands, trying to check if she missed bringing anything, sighing heavily all the while.

She was lucky her second class was away from everyone else's. That gave her some breathing room to recollect herself.

Hannah and Barbara were way* too skilled at riling her up. She had no idea how to deal with them. She was sure she wouldn't get used to their antics anytime soon. The whole situation with them spun her wheels around so well, it was actually tiring her out.

Then there was the matter of being g-girlfriends, and Diana.

Diana...

"Diana..." Akko's head banged against her metal door again with a clang, a few passing students casting her worried gazes. "What the hell..."

When was it, she wondered, that she had first taken notice of the incredibly gorgeous biology major. Diana with her clear blue eyes like the oceans and the sky at the peak of a beautiful summer; her hair that flowed down to her waist in flourishing curls; Diana and her sharp and classy style; Diana and her shapely body- Akko hit her head once more against the locker, groaning against the cool metal.

"What the hell am I thinking about?" She muttered, pushing herself away from her locker to get ready to head off to the next class. Maybe she should just keep her mind off of it for now, focus on what was in front of her, and deal with it later. When her head cooled down.

Yes. That was the perfect plan.

Before she could leave, however, a hand slapped against either side of her head, a the impact causing a ringing sound in her ears that only added to her headache. Her eyes that she had unconsciously shut fluttered open, widening at the sight that greeted her.

Oh, this was just great.

"Oh, I don't know, Kagari. What *were you thinking about? Hmm?" That familiar snarky tone of voice bit at her, a hand resting on her shoulder before pressing her into the hard metal.

"Chloe..." Her weak response coupled with a glare only made the perpetrator grin happily.

"Atsuko~ our cute little lackey." Short-haired and short-tempered towards Akko was Avery trailing behind the Frenchwoman- the actual lackey, Akko thought.

"Geh- Avery..."

"Glad you're happy to see us." She rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum as she picked up a paper Akko had dropped in her surprise, flipping through its contents, bored. "Our lackey seems to have been doing good in school lately. Doing her homework and all. Guess you could do ours too?" She smiled that sickly sweet way that Akko loathed.

Akko's breath hitched when she made a little tear on the sheet just to spite her. Finnelan was surely going to chew her out again for a reason she couldn't explain.

Akko grit her teeth, truly wanting to retaliate physically, but then remembered that they weren't in high school anymore. These girls had no real power over her. Not then, not now. She needed to just ignore it and walk away. Really. Years and years of this, and they never got sick of it? Why did the universe allow them to apply to the same university anyway? Not that it mattered anymore.

Resigning herself to a -hopefully- more peaceful exit, Akko sighed, attempting to move Chloe's hand away with only enough force not to trigger her more. "I'm not your lackey." She said, kneeling to the ground to grab her other scattered materials.

"Aww, you're not?" Chloe whined, watching Akko like a hawk.

"I'm not." Akko replied, standing up and throwing them a blank look. "I have to go. See you."

"Leaving so soon?" Some girl she didn't know called after her, sneer evident in her tone. "Not gonna entertain us for a little longer?"

"Obviously." Akko responded, not looking back. She just needed to get the hell away as fast as possible and avoid any further interaction with them.

"Oh, then you wouldn't mind if we told the entire school about how you're always off to a strip club."

Akko halted in her steps, turning around to stare hatefully at the evil grin Chloe sported after knowing she got her way once more.

"Always, as in everyday?" Avery added, leading the group forward to surround Akko once more as other students avoided the potential mess in the hallway.

"What has that got to do with anything?" Akko grit her teeth, fists clenching "And I already told you... it's not what it looks like."

"Then why are you so scared, hmm? About word getting out?" Chloe tipped Akko's head up with her index finger, making her look directly into her eyes. "You know how they say that if you have nothing to hide, then there's nothing to be afraid of."

"That's-"

Akko swallowed the lump in her throat, searching her mind for a comeback to that without revealing too much about herself and giving these bullies more information to harass her with.

She had nothing.

They didn't like that she was quiet and had nothing to say.

She heard Chloe sigh before Akko's cheeks were squeezed together in her hands, nails digging into the flesh slightly. "Also, what was it? Your friend, uh... Lois or something."

"Lotte..." Akko corrected, barely managing the word out; she hoped they weren't planning on doing anything to her sweet friend. She could handle their insults, their disgusting behavior, and their petty tricks on her, but she couldn't stand it if her friends got hurt in her place instead.

"Whatever. Her." Akko slapped Chloe's hand away, earning her a pleased smile and a pat on the cheek. "There's the little tiger we love." She giggled, a glint in her eye.

Akko gripped her books in her hand, trying her best not to throw her fists right at them. The last time she had let her temper go, she was wrongly suspended anyway. She'd rather not have to live through the same sucky school experience again.

"So," Chloe continued. "you wouldn't want the entire school to read her disgusting work, right? Fanfiction? I can't remember it all that well. Couldn't stand to read that shit for more than five seconds." She made a gagging motion, tongue stuck out at Akko.

"Lotte... Lotte is amazing at writing..." She whispered, hoping they actually didn't hear those words. "Don't touch Lotte." She managed to say loud enough, raising her head to gaze upon them with a warning. It only seemed to fly over their heads as they all sashayed away from Akko, feeling like they'd won.

"Anyway, we'll keep your secrets for another day, Kagari." Chloe waved over her shoulder. "In exchange for our, ehem, considerate service, we expect cutlet sandwiches on each of our desks. Noon. Sharp." She commanded.

Akko, immediately recalling her class schedule for the day, wanted to protest. "But my class doesn't get out until-"

"Is that a no I'm hearing?" The group paused in their steps, all pinning Akko down with their looks of contempt, daring her to say anything besides their desired response.

Her fists trembled, knuckles as white as her torn assignment paper. She felt the quiver in her lip and the tension in her frame as she held back from screaming bloody murder.

"... I'll get you your damned sandwiches."

//-//-//

"Akko! What took you so long!" Akko's friend, Lotte, worriedly asked. "Finnelan usually comes in really early. You could have been in some major trouble!"

"Maybe she just got lost in the cafeteria again? Among all the donuts and pastries." Sucy drily replied, not looking up from her textbook.

Akko kept staring at her torn paper in dismay, pondering if she should risk it and start rewriting a new one, hopefully finishing before the professor arrived.

The lack of response only fed Lotte's concern even more. She squeezed Akko's shoulder to catch her attention and noticed her friend flinch.

"Akko?"

"H-huh? Oh! What? So-sorry. I was... I dropped my phone in the toilet, haha." Akko said, not looking at her friend at all as she dug around her bag for a pen and hoping for a clean sheet of paper as well.

"Wait, what? Is your phone okay?" Lotte asked, skeptically watching her friend's frantic movements.

"Yeah, yeah." Akko replied half-heartedly.

Lotte frowned, feeling that Akko was still hiding something. "What happened to your assignment?" She questioned, noticing the crumpled and torn edge. A thought came to her mind. "Was it them?" She asked in a quieter voice. "What did they say? Did they hurt you?" Lotte scanned over Akko's features, pupils shaking. They settled on her face and Lotte's frown deepened. "You're cheek..." She reached out, trying to touch it.

"Huh? N-no? It was... the school... cat...?" Akko tried lamely, moving away from Lotte. She instantly felt bad about it as Lotte sported a hurt expression in response to her actions.

"Akko..."

Akko finally faced Lotte, guilt on her features. She was never really good at masking her feelings from her friend. She could never lie to her. They both knew that.

"What was it about this time?"

Akko bit her lip. Despite how close they had gotten over the years as friends, Akko hadn't revealed too much to them about her background. She wasn't sure she was ready to either. Not anytime soon. She also couldn't find the heart to let Lotte know that part of it was about her.

"Just that I'm a dumbass, and the other typical stuff, y'know? Appearances and that kinda thing." She lied.

"Hmmm..." Lotte was clearly not convinced, but she let it go, knowing Akko wouldn't budge on things like this. She instead decided to settle down in her seat next to Akko.

Akko knew Lotte wouldn't pry anymore. She was both thankful and sorry for having to do this to her friend, but she really couldn't help it.

Akko sighed, clicking her pen open.

"Want me to poison their lunch today?" Sucy piped up, flashing Akko a vial from her bag.

As much as Akko wanted to say yes, she knew it could only make things worse and reluctantly declined. "Maybe in my dreams." She smiled at her friends weakly, finally turning to her fresh sheet of paper to begin copying her assignment.

She missed the shine in Sucy's eye and the grin that was starting to grow on her face. Akko only looked up in terror as she heard the words that spilled from Sucy's mouth, hoping she wouldn't go through with any funny business.

"That can be arranged."

Akko felt a shiver run up her spine, whipping her head back to her paper to avoid that scary expression.

"Let's just... not."

"Tch. You're no fun."

Maybe she really wasn't.

A/N: I would have made this longer and added one more scene, but my brain cells can’t. Sorry haha. ;-; Really sorry.

~Shintori Khazumi

#diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #hannah england #Barbara Parker #lwa #little witch academia #hanbaradiakko #diakko #hanbara #fanfic #234

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7soulstars · 4 years

Text

Emerging of Kalon

Request: I need some new johnny depp fics in my life where I want a reader with insecurities and johnny reassuring her that he loves her the way she is.Maybe she is a bit more chubby than his past gfs and she has to wears glasses.Abd thanx so much for accepting it.

Yooo this imagine is soo important to me. As a person who had a lot of insecurities and has suffered through depression.It is really important for me to spread a certain message to others like me. I have this belief that you aren’t born with insecurities,you are made to have them.Don’t point out things to people that would make them uncomfortable in the long term guys it becomes quite scarring for them and it also makes you a damn bully. Also it is normal to have stretch marks, tummy rolls ,acne, scars ,body hair and all that stuff, Man or Woman or any other gender you identify as.That’s what makes you human.If people can’t accept you for who you are please cut them out of your life.Ya’ll beautiful and I love ya’ll. Hope you like this !!

................

Pairing : Johnny Depp x Reader

Warnings : TW,Nosy people who like putting others down for fun, Signs of depression,Suicide attempt,Angst,Swearing, Fluff, Johnny being the absolute sweetheart he is.

................

Kalon ;Latin for ideal beauty in all, physical ,spiritual and moral forms

1.Instigation.

“I still can’t believe THE Johnny Depp went for you after his past ones”,said someone snapping her out of her trance.”Pardon ?”,she asked as if to confirm whether she heard him right . “I mean look at you....His exes were all supermodels weren’t they? Not a single flaw..”,the man guffawed.”Well you have have a micropenis why did your wife choose you?”,her bestfriend snapped crudely making her cringe.”Let’s go Y/N “, Y/BF/N said dragging she out of the restaurant .Well this wasn’t how I wanted college reunion to end up like,thanks Nathan she thought. “Are you alright Y/N ?”, Y/BF/N asked. “Of course”. No I’m not. “It doesn’t bother me at all.” It bothers me too much. “Nathan’s a dick .Don’t let it get to your head EVER”. But he’s right, his words are already in my head. “Yeah...”

2.The disquieting

“Hey glasses ! Looking ugly as always.”

“Look at her hogging like a pig, hey fatty you want more?”

“Darling why don’t you try going on a diet.”

“Don’t watch telly, you’re blind enough already”

“Jason what do you think of Y/N ?” “Damn man she was not even my type”

“Please Stop !”, Y/N woke up with a jerk, breathing in short gasps .”Johnny-”,she stops cutting herself off as she looked at the empty looked at the empty side on her bed. He isn’t in the country she remembered . Silence. She stared at the framed picture of them together on the wall. Plip. A tear fell. Plip Plip. Two more,before she couldn’t control it any more. The past wouldn’t change.She knew it would haunt her forever. But they had stopped for a while. But since Nathan ,it came back harder than ever. She didn’t tell Johnny, she’d never tell him , the last thing she wanted to do is to become a larger burden. So she cried herself to sleep every single day.

3.Repressing

Y/BF/N frowned as she looked at Y/N’s lunch. “Since when do you eat salads ?Hell,that isn’t even salad it’s just *ugh* lettuce....”,she says looking at the leafy stuff with absolute disgust. Y/N looked at her as if she did not understand what she was saying “I love salads,you know what? I’m not that hungry.....better get back to work! See you later!”,she said leaving as she didn’t even let the other speak. Starving, Hurting, Looking into the mirror and hating herself. The cycle continued.This was going to be dangerous in the days to come and she knew that too.

4.Avoiding

6 missed calls from Mom

19 missed calls and 87 messages from Y/BF/N

40 missed calls and 150 messages from Johnny

3 notifications from Twitter.

No one had seen her in 4 days .The telly changed channels at Johnny’s apartment .Things scattered around as a trembling hand set down the remote . Fat tears dampened the pillow as her eyes read the news headline. ‘Johnny Depp at a dinner date with ex wife Vanessa ? Is he finally done with his simple girlfriend ?’

5. Falling

This was it.She ended up the way she predicted she’d end up 10 years ago. Weak,Tired,Empty and Lonely. She stared at the bathtub as it filled itself until it was overfilled,water spilling out of its sides as it splashed onto her feet. She didn’t flinch at the coldness.She stayed robotically still, looking down at her palm. A blade. Without hesitating she got into the tub,the tap still running. She didn’t think anymore,tears wouldn’t fall even if they wanted to. She closed her eyes as she let her self go ,ignoring the frantic ringing of her phone and the banging on the apartment door.

6. Alerting

To say Johnny was concerned was an underestimation.Y/N wasn’t picking up his phone since several days .He was distracted, couldn’t concentrate and worry filled his entire existence.He didn’t know what to do,even going as far as asking his ex wife for advice.He decided to go back ,back to his girlfriend’s loving arms.

The moment he stepped back into the city he took his time.Picking out her favourie flowers ,the chocolate she always loved and a little something of importance. He ignored the notifications is phone was chiming with, his mind only full of thoughts of her....The thoughts were short lived , disturbed much to Johnny’s dismay by Y/BF/N’s call. He ignored once,ignored twice but after that he knew something was wrong.”Johnny !”, panicked voice spoke through the phone. A frown replacing the man’s smile “Did Y/N text you that absurd note too?” “No,wait Y/BF/N let me check”,he put the call on hold as his eyes skimmed over the words displayed on his screen. His phone now dropped on the car floor he wished all of it was a dream.They stopped as he stormed out, back to his apartment. He knocked wildly on the door but not a voice came nor a cackle. He threw his body on the door several times ,”Goddamitt Y/N OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR DON’T PLAY WITH ME RIGHT NOW !”.In his panicked feat he had forgotten he had the keys until they dropped out of his jacket pocket.He didn’t wait a moment as he fumbled it into the key hole ,kicking the door open as soon as it opened.

Silence.

Splosh . The sound of water hitting the ground from the bathroom echoed in the whole house.

“Y/N ?”, Johnny softly whispered as he pushed open the bathroom door. A horrific scene unfolded before him.

7.Mourning

It had been two days and Johnny wouldn’t budge.He saw red that day and the site still wouldn’t leave his thoughts alone.He would neither eat,nor sleep as he sat beside his beloved girlfriend who lay on a hospital bed. Dark Enough by Amanda played on the radio. The text message, and the talk with Y/BF/N replayed in his head as if war replayed in a retired soldiers dreams. “I didn’t know you were hurting that bad”,he whispered, tears threatening to fall again. He place his head on her stomach as he let the silent tears fall,until her hand fell on top of his head.

8.Resuscitation

Johnny jerked up ,his eyes as wide as saucers, as he froze with eyes full of pain and hurt.Y/N did not dare meet his gaze.She felt ashamed and disgusted. But those feelings were immediately replaced with shock as Johnny almost lunged at her,hugging her tight. “I was so scared I was so fucking scared when I saw that text and then you drowning in the red water filled in the bathtub ! I thought you’d left me ! I thought you died you weren’t breathing...How dare you think of yourself that way how dare you think you were not good enough !? You were the best fucking thing that happened to me since my kids goddammit !”. Y/N had never seen Johnny this mad.Hell, she had never even seen him cry. She didn’t know how to answer him, she was too ashamed.He wouldn’t break the hug, as if he would loose her if he did. He loved her too much. “Why ?”,he asked again,as if he was begging for an answer. Even a word. He just wanted to hear her voice. “I was scared...”,her voice cracked coming out much broken than she predicted. “ I didn’t think I deserved you, I thought I’d never reach the levels of those beautiful actresses and models.I was scared to tell you about my past..I was scared to bother you...”. Johnny’s heart broke. He never thought his Y/N would think that way. She was always smiling .Not even a little frown on her face. Always there for everyone. Yet no one comforted her. How could he never see it? Of course he couldn’t see it she was perfect to him.His Y/N was the most perfect person in the world. “I love you”, he blurted. He never said that.He was too shy. But he hugged her tighter ,” I love you so much. Even with scars,insecurities or that ugly face you make when you see things you do not like. You were, have and always will be the most perfect to me. Please....don’t do that again...”

9.Emergence

Y/N was discharged from the hospital in a few days. Johnny wouln’t leave her side. All his attention would be on her to see if ate well, and loved herself. Y/N felt safe. And she wasn’t wrong . Johnny was everything she deserved.

They sat on the rooftop of a cafe in Paris. A calm silence passing over them. “Y/N ?” ,Johnny asked. “Hmm?”,she hummed along, silence entailing after. ”Marry me ?”,he asked. That was the day Y/N was the most happiest, and did the beautifully emerged Kalon say yes? you’d ask. She said it without a second to spare. After all our Kalon had found her wings.

“No one is born ugly, we’re just born in a judgemental society”~ Kim Namjoon(BTS)

----The End----

Whew ! After all the procrastination and time I took brainstorming this baby is done! This was requested by the wonderful @anycsirp I really really hope you liked this ! Also I meant what I said before the start of this oneshot . YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. PERIODT. Please do like and comment your opinions! I really hope to read em ! I’m not that great of a writer but I did my best !

~Love, Hri

#johnny depp fan fiction #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp x y/n #johnny depp x you #fanfiction #request #ask hri #send asks #imagines #self love #insecurity #love yourself #kim namjoon #kalon

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reiven2017 · 3 years

Text

Delicate steel.

Chapter 2.

Raven wondered for a long time when this happened.

Her morning started quite early, but all she remembered was how, having discovered the opportunity, she immediately slipped out of the house and was about to walk, as at the most inopportune moment she was overtaken by a panic attack.

As if this is the right time.

She remembered only how at one moment it became dark in her eyes, and oxygen stopped flowing into her lungs. It was happening so violently and swiftly that Raven felt like she was dying. Fear slowly settled in the very center of her chest and that's it. One slightest fear filled her entire body. She remembered how she sank onto the wet asphalt, her body, legs, arms, head ceased to obey her and she was unable to stand on her feet. The breathless fit continued and seemed not going to stop and Rachel lost hope for a split second. She did not remember how much time had passed and how long she was already on the side of the road, when she caught the movement next to her, and then she was smoothly put on the curb. Raven was still tossing between panic and reality, but she could feel how all this time someone was carefully giving her water. The stranger seemed not for the first time to see such a development in front of him, his actions were clear and careful, just what Raven needed. And then, when she came to her senses and the stranger was still trying to offer her help and take her to the hospital, the girl thanked him dryly, but completely withdrew from persuasion. All Raven remembered was the man's pale blue eyes before he disappeared around the corner.

Rachel winced and remembered another attack without much enthusiasm. This shit was repeated to her without any schedule or even warning and Rei sometimes felt that her body was demanding her death. She could not control the work of her brain at such moments and it was quite irritating and problematic. It made her ... vulnerable. And that's exactly what Raven hated the most.

She had a rather bad habit of switching off and thinking for too long, so she was not embarrassed when a floating hand appeared in front of her eyes.

“Hey, if you’re not going to hang around here forever, I advise you to go home. - Raven dismissed the remarks of her classmate and he grunted in response, left the class.

She blinked a couple of times, returning to reality, and then her face took on her usual sullen expression and Rachel glanced at her watch. 8:30. The last lesson ended 40 minutes ago, which means that she was passed out all this time and Rachel moaned pitifully, dropping her head in her hands. She is confident that her mom is going to arrange an execution at home for another curfew violation.

Excellent.

She took the phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and turned it on and off. A couple of missed calls and threatening sms from my mother were highlighted on the screen of her mobile phone and Rachel decided that she would somehow sort it out later and, taking her bag with her, left the empty audience. In the school corridor she met only a couple of cleaners and two students, but they immediately disappeared into one of the school toilets and Raven had little interest in what they were going to do there. In the front, huge doors appeared and, wrapping herself tighter in her kurta, thrusting her hands into her pockets, Rei greeted the cold autumn wind with a shiver. It was late autumn outside and in Day, a fairly northern city, it felt a few degrees colder. Rachel let out a breath, mentally wondering if it was as cold in New York this time of year, and a warm cloud of steam began to billow from her lips. She followed this short journey of warm air and caught herself with a soft smile on her lips. It was strangely calm. Even though she still has a problem with her mother, Rachel continued to stand on the school porch, inhaling and exhaling air. Everything in this city was strangely calm and quiet, but Rachel didn't mind that much. She had been here for about two weeks and was satisfied with everything, and deep down Raven was ready to admit that she even liked Date. It was a small town, abandoned in the thicket of the forest, with its legends about heri and about the brave discoverers. It was not as famous as Las Vegas and not as densely populated as New York, but that was its sweet charm.

Raven rubbed her hands, trying to rid her body of the approaching cold. She frowned, increasing the friction between her palms, but she was still cold and Raven wasn't sure if it was the weather. There was a short whistle and Rachel reflexively paid attention to it, lifting her head and fixing her gaze on the forest in front of her. Dusk had already fallen on the street, so the huge tundra and the trees in front of it were several shades darker, but it did not look frightening, one could say that Raven liked just such a forest more. Dark but quiet and calm. Maybe her gothic nature was played out in her, but in Raven there flashed a fleeting desire to walk there, but ... she was sure that the sound came from there. Rachel shivered chilly and rolled around in place, looking around.

Several minutes passed before Raven's phone rang again and the girl frowned in resignation. If she continues to be here and not at home, Raven is not entirely sure that she will have a home at all. She threw a last glance at the night forest, saying goodbye to him for today and ... froze in indecision. If it was a stupid game of her sick mind, then she gave her brain minus 10 points for a bad joke and asked to bake it in the hospital. In the very center of the forest, where a huge black hole gaped and it seemed that all objects in it were disappearing, there were two glowing lights. They did not move, did not move, even when a gust of strong wind blew and Raven grabbed the bag on her shoulder more tightly, they did not flinch, continuing to loom in the very center. Rachel frowned, a fine line on her forehead, but in her mind she felt a lump of fear slowly creep down her throat. As if even the air froze in tension, afraid to move in front of this devilry and deathly silence fell, Raven literally felt how life had stopped, and her heart was pounding anxiously. Part of her analytical and rational brain insisted that this was some kind of misunderstanding, but something was wrong in these lights. They shone with a bright, yellow light and they seemed to be conscious, as if someone, or something, was looking at her from there. Rachel narrowed her eyes, swallowing nervously and mentally urging herself to calm down.

Of course, we did not have enough to make friends with the Martians Rachel Roth.

It was the first thing that flashed through her thoughts, before Raven's eyes involuntarily widened with horror and instantly enveloped in a wave of fear. The blood in her veins became a lump and Rachel was sure that she had stopped feeling the pounding of her heart. The lights moved and after a split second, it seemed a huge, black spot, dimly resembling a muzzle, half hidden in shadow with eyes glowing with a bright yellow light and looking directly at her.

Hell…

Rachel blinked, unable to really accept in front of her and when she opened them, neither the eerie glowing lights, nor the unknown creature was already gone. In the blink of an eye, the air became alive again, the sounds returned, in the distance there was the noise of passing cars and the dead silence evaporated.

Raven swallowed hard, looked around the darkening forest and turned sharply, walked as far from this place as possible. She did not turn around, but with each step she took, she increased her speed, remaining with the only thought in her head - to bring down.

When some ass happens, it's never too late to dump Rachel Roth.

===========

Damian sat back wearily in his desk chair, massaging his face with his hands, hoping to get the paperwork out of the way as soon as possible. Unfortunately, questions from the pack were not resolved by themselves and for a long time hung over the younger Wayne as a heavy pendulum of danger and the guy ditched the whole evening for this. Sometimes Damian began to regret that he lived in the modern century, and not in the Middle Ages, where all questions and reflections were solved alone by the menacing growl of the alpha.

He frowned again at another piece of paper with numbers, as his ears caught on the first floor the joyful exclamations of his mother and Damian mentally whined knowing perfectly well who could deserve such a warm welcome. Grayson. The happiest ass in the world and also his older brother. He was aware of his arrival ... well, of course, his entire family and some members of the pack kept buzzing about it throughout the week, causing more and more irritation in Damian. Not that he hated Richard, he was as unbearable as his brothers ... well, he had some advantages over Jason, but several rather stupid personalities once said that they were not happy to see the gloomy cloud of the younger Wayne at the head of their pack, and would gladly replace him with the sunny boy Richard Grayson. After that, Damian was completely furious. He himself did not understand how his older brother manages to be so liked by people, but even to some extent he envied Grayson ... although, on his deathbed, he would not dare to admit it even to himself. So, now he wanted to feel like a 17-year-old teenager and lock himself in his office, gloomily ignoring what was happening. So he did, and even when he heard how his whole family spilled out on the first floor and Talia displeased asking about where Damian had gone, the guy stayed where he was.

It didn't take long before his secret hideout was discovered and loud footsteps were heard, and the next minute Grayson's pretty face appeared in the doorway.

Ugh you.

Damian wasn’t quite sure he hadn’t said it out loud.

- And I'm glad to see you too, brother. Richard opened his bear hug and a smug grin spread across his face.

“Don't be like Jason, Grayson, degradation doesn't suit you. Dick ignored Damian's disgruntled grumbling as he brushed him off and walked over to the table.

- And you become like the old grumpy wolf Demi.

“Forgive me for upsetting your hopes. Wayne was going to continue to ignore Dick, but as the man approached his desk, Damian didn’t consciously stiffen. Either Grayson had successfully changed his perfume, or some strange, but rather disturbing, smell appeared in the room. Wayne looked up from the pile of papers and sucked in air through his nose with all his might. The pupils of his eyes dilated as if after a strong rush of adrenaline into the blood, and his brain slowly floated. Smell. A subtle, almost imperceptible scent made Damian's blood burn hot as fire, and his wolf whined inwardly.

Dick watched the change in his brother's face with a mixed expression and stepped back reflexively as Damian rose abruptly from his seat, never ceasing to sniff. All the same, he is a young alpha ... what can get into his head Richard had no purpose to know. But when Damian seemed unable to find anything within a radius of a meter, approached Dick and began to sniff with the same eagerness, the man could not help laughing.

- Wow, take it easy, I understand that you missed me, but can we limit ourselves to hugs? - but Damian obviously did not listen to him and did not hear. He, like an instinct, walked around Grayson's circle, sucking in air and seemed not to notice what was happening while in his world. He eagerly grabbed his brother's hands, sniffing and froze for a moment in that position. Several seconds passed before he returned to the starting position and without opening his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists, he firmly asked and was surprised at how unfamiliar his voice sounded. His question turned more into a kind of command and a rude uterine growl, which are on the verge of little politeness.

“Now Grayson, you’ll tell me in detail about your day. - a mute question arose between them in the air, when Dick raised an eyebrow inquiringly, being in confusion from his brother's rudeness and strangeness, he wanted to joke about the change in the mood of the young alpha, but stopped ... Damian finally looked up at Richard ... eyes bright and burning with green flame ... Grayson swallowed involuntarily and tensed, mentally preparing for something bad.

#damirae #demonbirds #ravenrot #raven #damian wayne #fanfic

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jaggedlittleteacup · 3 years

Text

Three Acts

Note: @call-me-moo Here goes nothing…

Epilogue

(From this point onward, the chapters will not be illustrated. I attempted to illustrate them, but it diverges from canon so much that I couldn’t find a single scene that worked. I’m really sorry about it. But still, I hope you enjoy the epilogue…and whatever that entails.)

I’m in a wheelchair at Mary’s funeral. The doctors told John I was too weak to leave the hospital, but I insisted on going. Their concerns were warranted, after all- the last time I left, I nearly bled out in an abandoned building. But having my best friend…

Perhaps maybe more…?

I shake the thought away.

I can’t ruin this.

Being with John is the least I can do, and the most I could ever ask for.

I don’t deserve him.

Everyone that was there to pay their respects have already left- not that many people came to begin with. Most washed their hands of the whole situation when they found out who Mary truly was, and what she had done to us. Only John and I stayed afterwards.

Together. Once again, together.

We remain at the grave, respectively sitting and standing in companionable silence. Neither of us are sure what to say- to each other, or to Mary, I’m not sure. It’s fairly overcast, and I can see the beginnings of storm clouds rolling in above us.

How appropriate.

I exhale and tentatively steal a glance at John. He looks calm, but I can see a range of emotions flashing in his blue eyes as he stares at Mary’s gravestone. One of his hands is balled into a shaking fist, and the other loosely holds a bouquet of white lilies.

“Sherlock,” he murmurs, his voice cracking with emotion and painful, unsaid words. “Sherlock, what…what am I supposed to say…?”

He killed his wife.

I swallow hard. I’m not sure what to say, either, but anything I could do…“Do…would you like me to speak first?”

He killed his wife for me.

John nods stiffly and stands back, before hesitating and pushing my chair a bit closer. He looks as though he wants to say something to me, but he bites back the words and keeps them to himself.

I take a deep, shaky breath. “…Mary. I…I…want you to know that…Even if- if you shot me. Even if you…with Rosie…Even after all that, I- I think…I forgive you. You were selfish. And you- you lied, and you hurt everyone. But…you were also kind. And you were selfless, sometimes. And I saw some of the love you had f-for everyone, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Where is this coming from? I hated Mary, I hated her, I really did, I hated her smile and her words and her subtle manipulation throughout the entirety of our fabricated friendship-

“Sherlock…” John says softly, urging me to stop getting lost in my mind. It’s funny how he can do that with a single look…

I can’t stop. Not now.

“-And…and I know I should be…the last person who tells you about love, because…because I’ve only truly…truly known what it meant after meeting John.” I don’t look at John. I’m too afraid of how he’ll react. “And…and you. I don’t…believe in the afterlife, you’re aware. But…I- I hope…” I feel hot tears burning my eyes. “I hope you’re at peace, Mary.”

John rests a hand on my shoulder as I choke back tears. I flinch at the sudden contact. He doesn’t say anything further as I take deep breaths to regain my composure.

I shouldn’t be this emotional. I shouldn’t care.

“Sherlock,” he repeats again, the barest trace of a smile on his face. “How- how do I compete with that?”

I laugh and lean into his touch. It feels warm, comforting, loving.

It feels right.

I smile weakly back at him. “Just say what's on your mind. You’ll be all right.” And I mean it. He will be all right.

He sighs and walks forward. A moment passes before he finally builds up the courage to begin speaking- and once he starts, it all rushes out of him like an unblockaded river. “Mary. You were my wife. Once. And…and yes, I shot you. But you shot Sherlock, so I think we’re even. You were a liar. And a killer. But I suppose that’s my type, yeah? I can’t help going for the crazy ones. It’s…it’s my addiction.” He glances towards me, pain in his eyes, before looking back. “I just…I don’t think I could forgive you, normally. But…if…if Sherlock could- if my favourite bloody sociopath could find it in his heart to…I…I think I can, too. Goodbye, Mary. I think I’ll be happier now.”

He deserves it. John Watson has been through far too much heartache, he deserves to have a bit of happiness.

“John, are you all right?”

His expression lightens a bit, as though he’s gotten a lot off of his chest.

I suppose, in a way, he has. Catharsis can be a wonderful thing.

“Yeah, Sherlock. I’m all right. For the first time…in…in a while. Come on. I’ve got to finish moving my stuff back to Baker Street, and I’ll be damned if you use being shot as an excuse not to help.”

I smile softly. “No excuses?”

“None,” he agrees, before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss against my lips. “I think we’ve been making excuses for far too long.”

I know we have. Things will be different, at first. It’ll take a bit of getting used to. But I think we can do it.

Sherlock Holmes…and John Watson.

¿?MThIeSS?MEnd¿???

“R, sweetheart, do you have eyes on Sherlock Holmes?” A smooth voice- just like honey- creeps into R’s ear like a particularly cunning virus.

R swallows bitterly as her lips curl into a snarl. “Yes, sir. He’s at the grave,” she growls, her American accent feeling much more natural than the British one she had been faking for so many years.

“Excellent,” the voice says, which isn’t the most original comment, considering how many criminal masterminds have said ‘excellent’ in regards to evil plans before. “Ugh, isn’t he boring?”

“Who?” R asks reluctantly.

“John. So plain, so obviously in love- oh, I think he finally kissed his little boytoy! Bravo, John, it only took you five years!” The voice is taunting, emanating energy as though it would never again have a chance to play. “I’m sorry, that’s a bit of a sore spot, isn’t it?”

“Of course not, sir,” R says curtly, ignoring the previous musings. “Would you like me to eliminate them?”

“No, no, no!” the voice shouts viciously, making R flinch. “Don’t you dare touch a single curl on that pretty thing’s head! I want Sherlock to recover and be healthy for our next round.” He says ‘round’ as though it’s such an intimate thing- it’s altogether rather surreal.

As much as R would like to put a bullet in each of their heads, she controls her impulses. God knows what he would do to her if she did. “Yes, sir.”

The voice groans. “Stop with the formalities, Mary. It’s so dull, and you of all people should know how much I despise dull people.” He lowers his tone to something dark and deathly soft. “Refer to me as ‘sir’ one more time, and I will string your bloody corpse up in Regent’s Park for the birds to have at you.”

Mary swallows, her gun shaking violently from her sniper’s post. “With all due respect, Mr. Moriarty, Mary is no longer my name,” she whispers.

“Ah, well, it suits you!” Moriarty exclaims over the comms, his voice back to its regular gusto. “Head back to the car, Mary. We need to discuss your punishment.”

Mary pales. “Punishment, Mr. Moriarty? But- I haven’t-“

He laughs. It sends shivers up her spine. “Mary, Mary, quite the contrary,” he quips. “You nearly killed my favourite pet. Shooting him near the heart- tsk, tsk, I expected better of you. The little joke about saying ‘hi’ to me was clever, too, but I can’t have this go unnoticed. We’re both professionals, I’m sure you understand!”

“But-“

Moriarty interrupts her with a shout. “BUT I suppose I’ll be lenient, just this once.” He seems to be barely holding back deranged giggles. “Instead of taking your hand, I’ll settle for a finger. Off you pop!”

The line cuts off abruptly as Mary feels a needle plunge into her neck, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t worn a bulletproof vest when confronting Sherlock…

(To Be Continued!)

Act One linked below:

https://benaddicted-linfanuel.tumblr.com/post/656892650818011136/three-acts

Act Two linked below:

https://benaddicted-linfanuel.tumblr.com/post/656968775195934720/three-acts

Act Three linked below:

https://benaddicted-linfanuel.tumblr.com/post/656990419321864192/three-acts

Act Four linked below:

https://benaddicted-linfanuel.tumblr.com/post/657145687996301312/three-acts

#bbc #john watson #sherlock #sherlock holmes #johnlock #jim moriarty #post reichenbach #mary is not good #she’s actually pretty evil #sherlock fanfic #mycroft holmes #miss me #moriartipocalypse 2021 #moriarty is alive #Moriarty was real

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toothpastecanyon · 3 years

Text

We Creatures, Chapter 5

When Alcor felt Mizar calling to him, he came to help. Perhaps, this one time, he should have stayed asleep.

Tagging @starryfansquid by request <3

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

“Are you, uh, okay back there?”

The trees were thinning as they sped down the freeway. Alcor kept his hands tight on the wheel as he drove; he tried to keep his eyes on the road, but every so often they’d drift up to the rear view mirror and see her.

Stars, she still looked so much like Mizar. And she hadn’t said a word yet; all she did was stare.

“Okay, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Hey, what should I call you? I assume Mizar isn’t your actual name - heh, that would be a, uh, crazy coincidence…”

Silence. He gripped the steering wheel.

“Listen. I… I’m sorry. For leaving. And saying stuff that… wasn’t fair. You’re right, I’m not really in any position to talk to you about hurting people.” His shoulders slumped. “I guess in my head… I still think I am? I… I want to change, I want to be better… so I start to think I already am.”

He gave a little chuckle.

“Even though you seem to have a way better track record than me. I was watching you with that elf… you really have changed, haven’t you.” A little smile. “And hey, if you can do it, who’s to say I can’t be trying a little harder? Heh, I-”

There was a noise from the backseat. Alcor watched the Creature suddenly turn away, and slump across the seats with her back to him. He frowned.

“Hey, are you okay back there?”

“Leave me alone.”

Alcor raised an eyebrow. “What’s the-”

“Leave me ALONE!” She snapped, and then rubbed her forehead. “Sorry, just… Just stop… stop, okay? You’re… distracting, you’re…”

She trailed off, and Alcor felt a sense of deja vu as he watched her shaking hands. She’d acted like this before, and then she went into that cabin of magi orbs and- oh.

Alcor turned around in his seat. “Hey,” he said, delicately. She growled. “You’re… hungry, aren’t you?”

Her eyes met his, and suddenly he realised why the stare he’d been getting earlier was raising the hairs on the back of his neck. There was something hungry in it… hungry for him.

He gulped. “Okay,” he said, in a higher voice than he meant. “Okay, we’ll, uh… let’s sort that out.”

She was still staring him down as he turned back to the front and started tapping his fingers on the wheel. Well, this was unexpected - but another two seconds of thought and was it really, you agreed to help a vegetarian people-eater get across the country and you’re surprised it’s gotten hungry?

He really needed to think this stuff through. Okay… well, at least it was an easy fix, right? He summoned a handful of magic to his palm, and drove with his elbows as he moulded it into a ball - it looked a little like a glowing snowball, he thought. Then he turned back to the Creature, which was watching this all very intensely.

“Uh, here,” he said, and held it out. “I don’t know if this-”

And it was gone. Alcor flinched a little at the speed; he drew his hand back, and there were claw marks across his palm from how fast she grabbed it. And now she was eating it - he’d only given her a tiny drop of his power, but he could feel a prick on his soul as everything in the back seat went blurry.

Something of him was being consumed, and he gripped the steering wheel. Stared forwards. Tried not to squirm too much in his seat, until…

“Whoa… okay. I’m back.” The Creature returned to sharpness, wiping its mouth. “Was that you? Sorry, man. If I wasn’t all zoned out I could’ve pointed us towards something else.”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure? You got that high voice going on…”

“It’s… I agreed to help, it’s fine.” Alcor worked a shudder out of his spine, and then looked back at her. “Uh, how long’ll that last you?”

“If I don’t get stabbed or jump out of any more cars? Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.” She laughed, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “I, uh, get it. If it freaks you out. You don’t have to be polite. You’re already doing more than I expected by coming back.”

“You didn’t think I’d come back?”

“No.” A snort. “I told you, there’s a reason I lied to you. Creatures like us, we don’t tend to make friends real easy.”

Alcor looked at her through the rear mirror. She was slumped down in the seat, staring at the sky through the window. Her expression… he’d seen the look of an ancient being reminiscing before, looking back on thousands of lifetimes of memories, of mistakes, of regrets. He was sure he’d worn that expression before, as well.

He’d just… never seen it on Mabel’s face.

Alcor paused for a minute, took a deep breath, and then spoke.

“What are you?” He watched her glance back at him, eyebrows raised. “Sorry, I’ve just- do you know what you are? I’ve never known anything like you.”

The Creature stared a moment more, and then she laughed. Bracelets jangled as she sat up.

“Oh, you wouldn’t, would you?” She shook her head. “Yeah, I’d be surprised if humans knew the first thing about us - elves tend to get a bit cagey about it all.”

“Why?”

“Why? Well, because we’re elves.”

Alcor blinked. Then frowned. “What?”

“Yeah, I was born an elf, raised an elf. I barely knew what humans even were before I came to the sewers.” She chuckled. “I still don’t, really. Do you know what a cell phone is? It super blew my cover with that elf lady and I’m still not sure why.”

“But-“ Alcor spluttered. “I’ve met elves before, you’re… well, you’re-“

“Completely different looking?” She grinned. “Yeah, that’s what happens when we’re born without a soul.”

Silence. Alcor felt his blood run cold - without a soul? That was impossible… wasn’t it?

“Born Blighted, that’s what they call us.” Her grin sharpened. “And, you know, nobody notices at first. You don’t notice - sure, you look different, but no one treats you differently, do they?”

She looked out of the window again, at a single tree amongst the plains. Alcor watched her hug herself a little.

“You get a bit older, and you can’t do magic. You know.” She gave a dark chuckle. “Sometimes the story ends there, if you’ve got real paranoid parents. But mine… I guess I was lucky I got folks who gave me the benefit of the doubt, and maybe I was just a late bloomer. Maybe I wasn’t Blighted - because I started hearing whispers of that, Blighted.”

The Creature hugged herself until her knuckles went white. She continued.

“But I think I always knew, deep down. Food didn’t fill me; it kept growing, and soon I couldn’t sleep at night. I couldn’t think. It was like there was a hole in me, an emptiness, always growing, always knawing away at me - something had to give.”

Alcor looked back to the road. “What happened?”

“I was only about fifty. Went walking with my mother in the forest, and…” A breath. “Well, then when I came to and realised what I’d done, I left. Never went back.” A pause. “I’ve met one or two like me, in passing. We all had similar stories.”

He looked back at her. She looked solemn, staring down at her hands, saying no more. With a frown, he cleared his throat.

“I’m… sorry.”

She glanced up at him, then down again. “It’s fine,” she said. “It happened thousands of years ago. Doesn’t affect me much anymore.”

“Yeah…” Alcor stared down at the claws tipping his fingers. “Thousands of years ago… I used to be human.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It was…” He chuckled. “Quite the adjustment period, you know.”

“No kidding. How often does that happen?”

“What, becoming a demon?” Alcor gave a wry smile. “It happened once. Never before… and never again.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Bad luck, dude.”

“Hah! Yeah…”

“Wait, was that the whole Transcendence thing? Cause if so…” she reached out and tapped his shoulder. “I’m older than you.”

Alcor snorted. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“Of course! Who else gets to say they’re older than a demon, huh? I thought you guys were all old geezers.”

“I’m still centuries old, you know.”

“Centuries? Oh, you are cute!”

“Ugh, shut up.” He rolled his eyes; she reached past him to fiddle with the radio. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

“You really shouldn’t’ve, kid.”

“Kid? Wh- I’ll… oh, come on!”

And they sped along the road like that, conversation turning lighter like trees around them turning to fields. They passed one last tip of forest hanging off the side of the road, and neither of them paid it much mind. Neither of them noticed three still figures standing under the branches, watching them pass. No, they were gone in a second, speeding out of their clutches, west.

Two elves saw this, and turned away. The third, the elder, bowed his head.

“No. This is not the end of the hunt.”

The elves glanced at each other, then back at him.

“They have left our lands, Tarathiel.” One said. Then the other: “We do not hunt the buck for its head. The Blighted One will harm us no more; let us return home, and enjoy the safety we purchased in blood.”

The other looked down. “Too much blood,” they said, wistfully. Tarathiel’s fists clenched.

“It is my place to decide that, not yours.” They whirled around. “Many of us have fallen, yes. We honour them by finishing what they started, not by letting their murderer go free!”

“Murderer…” The elf bowed a little, but frowned. “A murderer is unnatural. Does the fox murder the rabbit in its den?”

The other elf stiffened a little at that. Tarathiel went still at first; still, and then slowly, deliberately, they leaned forwards.

“Ask me that again, sapling.”

The elf stayed silent. He narrowed his eyes.

“Or do you remember your place? Do you regret speaking so rashly?” He grabbed the elf’s chin. “An Elder’s word is law. I did not disobey them when I was young, even when I disagreed. Now I am the one not to be questioned. Patience is rewarded, you know.”

They let go, and turned away.

“Now I must prepare the path. Soon we follow it west.”

With that, Tarathiel turned and walked into the nearest tree, disappearing from view. One elf rubbed their chin, the other stood still.

“That was rash,” said the still one. The other shot him a look.

“Am I wrong? This is madness. More of us have been eaten in this hunt than Blighted Ones have taken in a century. He wants to safeguard our lives? He should leave them as they are - it is the way of things!”

“Calm yourself.”

“Oh, I am calm. I see it clearly - it is Tarathiel who is letting his emotions lead him!” They lowered their voice. “It is no wonder. You know what they say of his daughter? How she-”

The other elf, which had been standing still, suddenly shot forwards. “Silence yourself!” They hissed. “You know what he does to those who speak ill of her.”

The elf shut their mouth. They looked east, to the waving cornfields and the setting sun, and frowned.

“Banishment… I feel banished already. Do you not?”

They stayed silent. After a long moment, they turned away and walked into a tree, disappearing into the bark.

The other elf stayed there alone, watching the cars drift by. Watching the sun dip and sink into the horizon. Watching the stars come out, the crescent moon beaming a dim light back onto the world. Watching the glow of dawn.

Watching.

#transcendence au #alcor the dreambender #magic lore #worldbuilding #toothwrites

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feralrosie · 3 years

Note

♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort for amelia/morgan

@bellarxse said: Amelia/Morgan, crying about something?

I mixed those two! Thank you both so much for the prompts ♥ it’s been so long that I don’t even have the list anymore, tho ASDFGHJK

The Wayhaven Chronicles Bff!Morgan & Amelia Langford Words: 2156 Rating: G for Girl Needs Therapy Tags: Hurt/Comfort Read on AO3

It was not unusual for them to disagree, but fighting was slightly rarer. The fiery red hair was not the only thing that Amelia had in common with her mother; both of them were very outspoken, unafraid of expressing their opinions and neither ever wanted to give up and accept defeat. That was how their disagreements turned into arguments, and how the arguments became shoutings.

Until, of course, Rebecca pulled the best cards from her sleeve—as always.

“You are staying here, and that is an order.” Her voice rumbled through clenched teeth across the meeting’s room in the Warehouse, striking like a thunder. “End of discussion, Detective.”

Detective. Rebecca had this special skill to detach the mother from the boss completely—that is, if she had a motherly side at all—but whenever this happened, the battle was over and she could claim her victory. And all of that, endless minutes of barking at each other, just because she wouldn’t allow Amelia to join Ava and Nat on a “too dangerous” mission that she was “not skilled enough” for.

Pressing her hands in fists so tight that her nails began digging into her skin, Amelia turned on her heels, heading to the corridor. “Fine!” She screamed before yanking the door open, “Do whatever you want, Agent.”

And, with the slam of the door, she was out. Thought her nerves would finally calm down, but the sight of two vampires perching against the opposite wall, one pair of hands hidden in pockets and the other crossed over a broad chest, was enough to snatch a grunt from her.

“Amy—” Nat tried to speak but was interrupted when Amelia held up her palm.

“I’m sorry you had to listen to this.” The professionalism in her voice was concerning, sounding too much like Rebecca’s, which could only expose how angry—hurt, even—she was. “Good luck on your mission. Keep me informed.”

Not wasting more of her breath, Amelia turned her back again, anxious to escape from the piercing green eyes frowning at her. Truly a pathetic attempt, given that it took nothing for Ava to launch herself from the wall and reach the Detective’s arm, holding her wrist with impossible care to spin her body around and face her.

“Amelia,” she whispered, choking on her concern, unsure of what to say next. She let her fingers drop ever so slightly with the burning wish of holding her hand, and for a moment the detective might have accepted such comfort, if it was not for Rebecca—always, always Rebecca—storming out of the office behind them, making so much noise with her high heels that Amy felt like she was stepping on her temples.

Nat was quick to prompt her in conversation, driving Rebecca away from the detective and allowing everyone to catch their breaths again. A ragged sigh escaped Amelia’s lips when she moved her hand away from Ava’s, placing it featherlight on the commanding agent’s cheek.

“I will be here when you come back,” she tried to sound as confident as possible, but knew Ava would not be so easily fooled by the bluff, “Be careful, Ava.”

The detective did not allow a reply, leaving for the common room right after; could only hear a defeated grunt behind her, followed by the imposing sound of combat boots marching away.

The warehouse was already huge, but for Amelia, it felt twice the size. Each new step was like walking on knives, and she needed to run to escape the anguish pooling in her throat, threatening to leak from her eyes. The air weighed in her lungs when she slammed the door behind her, finally safe in the solitude, and she needed desperately to let it out of her. Reached for the couch in search of a cushion where she could dig her nails, a much preferable alternative than to follow the same path of her mother down the corridor that lead both to the gym and the foyer.

But her plans of sinking her face in the soft fabric of Nat’s pillows and screaming her soul out were thwarted as quickly as her desire to punch something in the training room.

“What the—” In front of her, between the sofa, armchairs and coffee table, there was the largest, most elaborate blanket fort she’d ever seen. Nat’s couch was dismantled, its seat pillows serving as walls for the fortress, and what seemed like Farah’s duvet covered the entire structure as a ceiling. The thing was not like any child’s play, having two rooms, a window made with the blank space between two cushions and even a porch.

“Farah’s doing.” A voice came from behind Amelia, startling her to look behind. Morgan was standing by the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her chest, frowning at the detective. Amelia didn’t even hear her coming from the hallway or open the door. “Apparently she found out that this is something human children do and decided to give it a try, too.”

“Nat is going to kill her for destroying the sofa.” Amelia cursed under her breath her inability of maintaining a steady posture when her mind was so full of fire that made her voice crack. She turned away from Morgan, too embarrassed to face her, and shut her eyes closed, knowing too well that the deep blue of her irises was accentuated by the red markings of the tears that she could not contain anymore.

She heard the door click closed again and footsteps approaching, but keeping a safe distance. Amelia could feel the grey eyes on her back, studying every inch of her body, listening to her racing heartbeat and capturing the heat growing on her neck. Somehow, knowing that Morgan was just standing there behind her was worse than facing Ava earlier. She caught her breath and turned around, ready to blast whatever came to mind when—

“That was a pretty ugly fight you pulled up there.” Morgan was unusually close, keeping her gaze fixed on hers, piercing her with the intensity with which she stared. Those could be the eyes of a hunter, of an agent specialised in interrogations, but when Morgan sighed and let her shoulders sag, arms falling to her sides, her countenance was but of a friend’s. “Are you alright?”

The question alone was enough to get Amelia off-balance, hurting like a dagger cutting her throat open to let the bulging pain finally out—and she broke. Covered her face with both hands, hunching in her own weight, to let herself shriek as tears began to roll freely down her cheeks and between her fingers. Did not care if Morgan flinched with the sound, but could not be more thankful to feel a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I just—” she tried once, twice, but the muffled words would not take shape. “It’s just so frustrating that—”

“That you still have to listen to your mother, now as a boss?”

“That she won’t listen to me.” She blurted, finally being able to look up back at Morgan. “She never did, never trusted me. She thinks I’m a child, incapable of doing my job. Won’t even listen to my opinion! Hell, I studied and trained all my life to be the best, and now that I have a chance to prove myself every day, she—ugh!”

Trying to regain control over herself, Amelia ran her fingers over her hair and let her hands rest on the back of her neck as she looked up at the dim ceiling lights. She inhaled sharply, wiping one last tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, turning her face down to focus on the impressively soothing presence of Morgan near her. Embarrassment—for yelling, for exposing herself so much—was not new to her, but Amelia hated it every time. “I just need to calm down.”

“Take your time,” Morgan kept her hand on her shoulder, thumb tracing circles near her neck so lightly that Amelia doubted the vampire was aware of her own movements. “I can come back later to check up on you, if that’s ok.”

“No, please. Stay…” To plead with someone to keep her company was, somehow, even more embarrassing. As she felt her tears coming back to life, Amelia avoided the other’s eyes, turning her face to the side and touching the lean fingers on her shoulder with her chin. She tried—wanted—to not need anyone and was used to always being alone, so it seemed counterproductive to start needing people now. Yet, the thought of letting Morgan leave was terrifying.

But Morgan did not leave, and both of them kept their silence for a while. Amelia could feel her own heart beating heavy in her chest, and wondered how it sounded to Morgan. “If I tell you a secret,” she whispered, not moving her face away from the other’s hand, “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

“Sure.” The word, despite being so simple, had a smile of its own. “But I can’t promise to not use it as blackmail against you later.”

Amy chuckled, her eyes roaming across the mess of pillows and blankets in the common room. “When I was a child, every time that I fought with my mother, I locked myself in my room and built a blanket fort. Not like this one, it was just a simple huddle of pillows. I don’t know why it felt so safe, but I spent so many nights like this… Of course, I had to tidy up the room all over again in the mornings, but at least it helped me sleep.”

Morgan was a great listener, so Amy did not hesitate to take the opportunity to keep talking, surprisingly at ease, “I think the last time I did it, I was quite old already—fifteen years old, probably, it was a big fight. But to this day I sleep with a lot of pillows all around me. I hope Farah didn’t steal any of mine to build this monstrosity.”

“Only one way to figure it out, princess.” Morgan prompted, smirking at the grimace caused by the pet name and letting her hand slip down Amy’s arm before heading to the blanket fort. She kneeled, ready to get in when turned her attention back at Amelia. “You coming or what?”

“You really don’t have to do this, Morgan.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” The vampire shrugged while a softer smile formed on her lips. “But I’m going to, anyway. Come on.”

As if the weight in her chest had vanished, Amelia chuckled, following her friend in. There was plenty of room for both of them inside, but Morgan didn’t mind when the redhead snuggled closer, hugging her like a giant plush toy. Amelia let her head rest on the agent’s chest and smiled when Morgan wrapped her arms around her. For the longest time, everything was silent and warm, shadows engulfing the room around them as the night finally arrived.

Amelia tried not to think about her fight, tried really hard, but the words—those spoken and heard—kept echoing in her mind. She replayed the entire thing over and over again, thinking of what she should have said and what should have kept for herself, but in the end, it was all in vain. She could not change the past, even if she wished the power to go back twenty years in time and tell herself to do different, do better. Even if she wished more than anything that her mother would finally see her—

“I’m sorry,” Amelia whispered against the dark fabric of Morgan’s shirt, tears flowing freely once again along her cheeks. Wasn’t sure what or to whom she was apologising for, if for the uncontrollable sobbing mess that she became when Morgan tangled her fingers in her hair or for everything else that she ached to change.

“Don’t be silly,” the vampire pressed her arms tighter around the delicate figure of her. “There is nothing you should apologise for. You did nothing wrong, Amy.”

I just want to be good enough, she wished to admit, to lay her heart bare like that in a silly blanket fort, but such bravery would require every last drop of her strength, a luxury she could not spare. Didn’t even want to scream anymore, and could only hope that Morgan would understand how grateful she was to have her there as her crying turned into the silent despair of exposing herself.

Amelia had been exhausted for too long, it was clear to her now, and yet she had no idea of what to do next. Was it fair to ask for help, when everyone else was already working so hard to keep her alive and well, protected from every supernatural being out there?

Whatever the answer, she would have to figure it out later. For the moment, she was satisfied to just feel Morgan’s fingers on her hair, and the warmth of the blanket fort around her.

#the wayhaven chronicles #agent m #twc morgan #amelia langford #my writing #i truly enjoyed writing this despite hurting my girl #gotta improve my angst game tho #alavidzes

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