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otonymous · 4 years

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Glutton For Your Flavour (Obey Me: Beelzebub - NSFW)

Description: You’re about to become Beel’s next meal Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Spoilers for Lesson 5 of MS (hard). Please note potential trigger warnings: dub-con (as an inadvertent result of somnambulism), cunnilingus in two flavours (soft and rough), squirting and overstimulation, slight size kink, very faint hints of tetraphilia, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blasphemy, slight fear (monstrous descriptions) Word Count: ~2900 words (~14 mins of smut & shenanigans) Author’s Notes: My very first fic for the Obey Me fandom! I know I’m late to the party, but I’ve recently started playing this game and the story and its characters are so amusing I had to write about it. This piece may not be to everyone’s taste, so please, please, please note the potential trigger warnings listed above and skip if it’s not your cup of tea. That being said, hope you all enjoy the read! 💕😆

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“Bad luck to be sharing a room with Beel, but what can ya do after he destroyed yours while destroying the kitchen, and all for a dumb custard! Be careful — he might mistake you for a snack and eat ya in the middle of the night, hahaha!”

Mmm.

The scene fragments, Mammon’s face wavering as his voice grows faint, consciousness seeping into dark corners like sunlight cutting through fog. And when you open your eyes, you can’t quite place where you are for a moment, straddling the line between dreamscape and reality.

Ahh…

You sigh. There it was again, the sensation so pleasant it had roused you from the deepest slumber.

Further blinking off the haze of sleep, you take in your surroundings: a large bed lying empty across from yours in a room almost cavernous in size and just as dark save for a candle burning low on a desk, the glow of its flame orange like the hair that was currently brushing soft against your inner thighs—

“BEEL?! WHAT THE HELL?!”

“So tasty…not…enough…need more…want to…eat…zzz….”

Eyes still closed, the demon’s face is shiny even in the dark, slick from cheek to chin with what must’ve been a copious amount of his saliva and your arousal, you blush to realize. And when he doesn’t budge even after a swift kick to the face, you are ashamed to find the Lord of Flies’ show of strength sending yet another throb to your already pulsing clit.

He does wake though, Beelzebub’s amethyst eyes opening wide before he falls backwards onto the cold stone floor to realize what he had inadvertently done in his sleep. And as the always-famished sixth born looks from the shredded remnants of your panties to the pool of wetness on the sheets where his chin had rested, he becomes even more tongue-tied than usual.

“I…uh…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I dreamt I smelled something delicious and I was so hungry…and somehow I’m here, on the floor…I don’t even know…I-I’m so sorry!”

His cheeks grow so flushed they remind you of the red spider sandwiches he packed away during dinner, stuffing them two by two into his mouth until Satan smacked his hand away for trying to take more from his plate. The expression on his face is so full of remorse that even if you were angry, you’d be inclined to forgive the demon who was currently grovelling at the foot of your bed, swearing he would hand himself over to Lucifer and Diavolo first thing in the morning to be strung up and hung upside down for a fortnight, even (gulp) forgoing food for a day or two.

“Beelzebub…Beel…BEEL!” You shout, interrupting his self-inflicted tirade. “It’s okay, you didn’t mean it. You were sleepwalking. You don’t have to go to Lucifer and Diavolo about this.”

“No, I have to. My behaviour was inexcusable—”

“BEEL! Let’s…just…try to go back to sleep, okay? We have our midterm in Devildom law tomorrow morning and I really don’t feel like failing just because I didn’t get enough shut eye. So please, can we just pretend like this didn’t happen?”

Those orange brows are still furrowed when Beel finally lifts his head and nods. But then his gaze is falling again on the wet sheets and the shiver than runs through that larger-than-life body seems to send another wave of anxiety through the demon. He makes a mad dash for the door, murmuring something about getting a snack from the kitchen and “you can have the room tonight” before it slams shut behind him.

He doesn’t return for the rest of the night.

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The exam was so disastrous even Mammon didn’t bother sneaking another peek at your paper after the first two questions. And even if you had somehow managed to get back to sleep after last night’s ordeal, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that you were still distracted by the memory of Beel’s mouth on your pussy:

His long tongue, serpentine as it delved deep between swollen folds to taste you with gusto.

The way he rolled your clit between those plush, soft lips before sucking it into his hot mouth, over and over again.

The throbbing between your legs that refused to cease long after the Avatar of Gluttony had left the room you were temporarily sharing, sleep only forthcoming once you had succumbed and reached beneath the sheets to finish the job he had started, your moans licentious even to your ears as you pretended your fingers were his.

It was a pale imitation, of course. That much you could see for yourself, stealing a glance at Beel seated two rows down — quill twirling between long, dexterous digits when he wasn’t putting ink to parchment.

But those gigantic hands were just a small part of what made Beel demonically attractive, as if the word “small” could be applied to him at all: tall and built, there were times when even you envied the ease with which he maintained that perfect physique despite his penchant for shovelling enough food to feed all three realms into his mouth on the regular.

The same mouth which brought you so much pleasure the night before.

Ahem.

Clearing your throat, you pretend not to see the smirk that spreads across Asmo’s delicate face, hoping the lusty demon sitting just to your left wouldn’t pick up on the very secret thoughts you were having about his brother.

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[Private Chatroom]: Satan, Levi, Mammon, Asmo

Satan: This is going to sound crazy, but doesn’t it seem like Beel’s…hungrier than usual? Is that even possible?

Levi: OMFG! You should’ve seen the state of the kitchen this morning after Beel decided to camp out there overnight! It was a total war zone, like that epic battle scene in Vol. 5 of TSL lololol. Soooo good XDDDDD

Mammon: Hey! He’s gonna eat us outta house and home at this rate! Shouldn’t we stop him?

Satan: You do it, Mammon. Aren’t you always saying that there’s nothing The Great Mammon can’t do?

Mammon: …..

Asmo: Please, as if anyone — angel or demon — could come between Beel and a meal.

Satan: Why was he camping out there in the first place? Was there something wrong with his room? I don’t remember him complaining about anything since he got shacked up with the exchange student.

Levi: Not like he could, seeing as it was his fault to begin with and a direct order from Lucifer.

Asmo: Maybe we should ask her. I’m sure she knows something about what’s inciting his hunger judging by the way she kept staring at him in class today fufufu 😏 She almost failed her midterm because of it, isn’t that right, Mammon?

Mammon: ‼️‼️

[Mammon has left the chat]

Levi: He is sooooo transparent LMFAOOOO

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Gasp!

Pressing a hand to your mouth, you try to contain your shock at the sight that greets you when you peek around the corner into the kitchen:

Curved, ebony horns sitting majestically atop a head of disheveled orange hair. Thick, corded muscles that ripple across a broad back — readily apparently because the creature bent over a mountain of food on the ground was wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms, loose and slung so low over narrow hips that the sharp V defining his groin is visible even from the distance at which you stood.

Because this wasn’t quite what you were expecting to find when you made your way to the kitchen in the middle of the night to search for Beel, thinking to approach him about the peculiarity of his recent behaviour: the way he now ate constantly and was less satiated than before, the fact that he seemed to be going out of his way to avoid you even though you shared a room.

In fact, he hadn’t said so much as another word to you after he gave you two dozen of his prized custards the morning after the incident, apologizing again until you had to be the one to make him swear he wouldn’t breathe a word of it to Lucifer. The demon even made a beeline for the door as soon as he saw you emerge from the bathroom tonight, fresh from a shower.

It wasn’t hard to guess where he was headed.

Even still, you tried to focus on your textbook, reading the same line over and over again as you waited for Beel to return so you could have a proper conversation with the demon you made a pact with. And when you could wait no longer, you made your way towards his favourite room in the House of Lamentation — silently, so as not to draw the attention of the eldest sibling.

But the growls coming from the direction of the open fridge this time sounded like Cerberus himself, enough so that you find yourself rooted to the ground, unable to take another step forwards or back.

You had never seen Beel like this before, tearing into whatever he could get his hands on with a savagery that made your heart stop. Teeth, lips and tongue devoured without second thought in a way that was simultaneously terrifying and…

Throb.

…arousing.

Suddenly, he stills, throwing his head back to sniff the air once…twice…and in a flash, he is upon you, towering over your head as he rises to full height — bigger and taller and much more intimidating than you’ve ever seen him before.

You should have been scared. Any person in their right mind would have if they found themselves cornered by a demon of Beelzebub’s calibre. But the hands that balled into trembling fists at his sides made you feel oddly secure, your deepest instincts telling you that not all was as it seemed.

“You need to leave. Now…please.”

“What’s going on with you, Beel? I just want to help—” You reach for his arm. He jumps back as if burned.

“I SAID YOU NEED TO LEAVE! I-I…can’t hold back…for…much longer!”

Handsome face screwed up as if in pain, Beel turns to put as much distance as possible between the two of you, squatting on his haunches with his head in his hands when he murmurs:

“I…I don’t know what’s going on with me. This has never happened before. I’m hungrier than I’ve ever been. I eat and eat and eat and it still isn't enough. The last time I felt satisfied was when…when…”

His voice dies down to a whisper.

“…when I tasted you.”

Throb.

Putting out a hand, you steady yourself against the wall, knees suddenly weak at Beelzebub’s admission. Or perhaps it was due to relief, the tension that had been steadily building in your strained relationship with the demon released to know that you weren’t the only one who desired to revisit that night’s events.

So you gather your courage, stepping softly towards the demon who crouched on the ground next to the lit fireplace, the heat radiating from the hearth warming the flesh you had deliberately left bare when you lift the hem of your night gown to expose yourself to Beel.

“What are you doing?! I told you, I can barely hold back—”

“Then don’t. I don’t mind, Beel. I…I like it too.”

Amethyst eyes darken as they look up into yours, orange flames reflecting off pupils blown wide. And when he speaks next, the deepness of his voice echoes in your body, as if its source were to be found within your own soul.

“Ask and ye shall receive. I won’t touch you until you do.”

Nipples hardening beneath your gown, the rush of heat that floods your core makes you shudder when you say,

“Please, Beelzebub…I want you to eat my pussy.”

Back hitting solid wood, you barely have time to gasp before you are pulled to the edge of a long table in the centre of the kitchen, a long tongue running up the insides of each thigh in turn before they’re propped up onto broad shoulders, Beel’s breath blowing hot on the space in between.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can hold back. I’m just…so famished, so desperate to taste you again—”

His words cut off in a low growl as he presses his lips to your folds, saliva dripping from his mouth mixing with the juices that already painted a glistening sheen on pink flesh. You fight to bite back a moan at the vehemence of his hunger, the sheer greed of his tongue — flicking at your clit until your back arched off the table, heralding the arrival of the cream that leaked only to be swept up by Beel licking from end to end of that swollen seam. And when that still wasn’t enough, you nearly swooned to feel that serpentine tongue penetrate, reaching depths that surely only a demon would be able to achieve as Beel sought out more of your flavour.

He buries his face deeper into your pussy, nose nudging your clit as arousal smeared over the entirely of his visage. The vibrations of his voice further stimulates your locus of pleasure, punctuating the lewd, wet sounds when he says:

“You smell so delicious. All the time. And tonight, when you stepped out of the shower…I couldn’t take it, not with the way your scent flooded my senses. I had to leave or else…this would happen.”

“Oh Beel…you should’ve told me sooner.”

Mind lost in a haze of lust and body boneless from riding out wave after climatic wave, you reach down a trembling hand without thinking, fingers innocently tracing along the smooth ridges of the onyx horns that lay against your abdomen.

Suddenly, his breath hitches at your touch and the Sixth Prince of Hell is throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a moan loud and deep enough to reverberate off stone walls, clattering stacks of dishes in cupboards and making you come once more — legs convulsing upon his shoulders as you feel a preponderance of fluid gush forth from your body right into Beel’s waiting mouth.

The pleasure was such that you’ve never known before, so good that surely, it must be bad in some way, shape or form. But you hadn’t the energy to ponder further.

No, the only thing you’re aware of when your vision goes black is that Beel’s mouth is still on you, feasting upon a pussy that continued to respond to the teasing movements of his lips and tongue even as you ceased to think.

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Cheddar. Pickles. Ketchup and mustard.

The smell is what rouses you, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw when you awoke in your own bed: mountains of cheeseburgers arranged on platters filling up every available surface in the room you shared with Beel.

“You can sleep for longer if you want. I told Lucifer you’d be skipping class today because you’re not feeling well. Are you…feeling well?”

Beelzebub lifts his head from where it’d been resting at the side of your bed, the rest of his body laid out on the floor as if he were guarding you like an oversized dog. Those puppy dog eyes, full of concern, didn’t help his case either.

“I’m fine, Beel. Better than fine, actually. I feel fantastic!” You smile, moving to sit up in bed. The demon springs from the ground, putting an arm around your shoulders to help prop you up, and your heart can’t help but warm at how protective he was being.

He breathes, relief flooding those handsome features. “I’m glad. I was afraid I lost control last night and had to carry you back. You were just…so tasty and…satisfying…”

Those amethyst eyes glint as they travel to the apex of your thighs, and all of a sudden, he is grabbing at those human world cheeseburgers, shoving them into his mouth two at a time.

“Have some,” he says between bites. “They’re my favourite and I thought you might like them too. Besides, you need to eat if you’re gonna keep up your energy.”

You reach towards the nearest platter, taking one for yourself. “Energy for what?”

Beel looks at you, expression completely serious when he says, “For the next round tonight.”

Throb.

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avnkin · 4 years

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The Pogues - Chapter 2 // Making Amends

Pairing: jj maybank x reader

Warnings: swearing, little bit of underage drinking, smoking

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: You were a kook, born and raised but when a messy breakup with your boyfriend takes place you find comfort in the people who you’d been taught to despise and keep away from your entire life, the pogues.

(A/N): sorry this took me so long to post,, i’ve been studying for exams but now i’m finally done sooo I can focus on this fic!! this isn’t the best but I needed to upload something but just know the juicy parts haven’t even begun ;)) also this lacks proofreading so just bare with me lmaoo

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It was the day after Midsummers and you hadn’t stopped thinking about JJ, it was kind of annoying actually, you didn’t want to think about him or let alone any guy at all, but it was hard JJ was the kind of guy to leave an impression, the kind of guy who would be stuck on your mind for the next couple of days, so as you sat in your bed aimlessly flicking through the magazine that rested on your lap, you felt yourself zoning out as you let your thoughts be consumed with him.

“Y/N!” Sarah’s sudden yell broke you from your trance, startling you as you stared wide eyed at her, your face a question mark, she had come over to your place to spend the night, she couldn’t wait to tell you all about her adventures with John B, you had to admit you were pretty jealous, you missed having someone next to you when falling asleep it was an awful lot lonelier than you thought it would be, but you knew it was for the best, maybe you needed to be by yourself for some time now.

“Yeah?” you replied closing the magazine and laying it onto the empty space on the bed beside you “John B asked me to come with him to meet the guys later so I can- I don’t know make up with Kiara or something and since you’re the bestest friend in the whole entire world I was wondering if you’d come with me” you looked up at her puzzled “what” you spoke finding nothing else fitting to say “the girl hates me Y/N, hates me! And you’re really good at getting people to like you plus if they’re going to be my new friends that means they’re gonna be your new friends, where I go you go” she spoke content with her words.

“No” you stated grabbing the magazine again continuing flipping through the pages “no? what do you mean no Y/N please I need you there as my back up incase I don’t know Kiara attacks me” Sarah pouted “won’t John B be there?” you asked raising an eyebrow at her “Yes but I want you there as well” you let your head fall back as you groaned “fine i’ll come with” Sarah squealed in excitement engulfing you in a hug as she mumbled thank you over and over again into your shoulder.

“But-okay look if I tell you something you have to promise that you’ll pretend like you know nothing about it later, okay promise” Sarah asked sitting opposite you and raising one pinky finger in the air “and that you won’t laugh!” she added, you rolled your eyes but sure enough locked your finger with hers “pinky promise” you smiled awaiting Sarah’s response. “Okay they’re looking for the royal merchant gold and I actually think they fucking found it” you took a minute to stare at her wondering if she was joking or not “Sarah people have been looking for that gold for like a hundred years do you really think someone like John B found it?” you chuckled shaking your head “yes I do” she stated firmly, you rolled your eyes before saying “let’s get going”.

Once you and Sarah had taken a seat on John B’s front porch you could practically see the anger fuming off of Kiara at your sudden presence “no effing way!” she scoffed looking over in your direction “you brought them here? so what? they’re in on this now?” John B looked utterly terrified as he looked over at JJ and Pope hoping they would back him up “I dunno” Pope simply shrugged looking over at JJ.

“Look man all I care about is their cut comes out of your share” JJ spoke causing you to scoff “all of us aren’t rich and spoiled like you princess” JJ declared raising an eyebrow at you “I’m not spoi-” Kiara cut you off “I don’t remember taking a vote, this is our thing, a Pogue thing!” You and Sarah both rolled your eyes in unison glancing over at each other.

“Look i’m just a tad uncomfortable with all of this” Pope said causing a small chuckle to slip out of your mouth as Kiara mumbled a thank you “when are you not uncomfortable?!” John B argued “well I don’t know I rode here on the back of JJ’s bike quite comfortably”

“It’s true most relaxed i’ve ever seen him” JJ said “maybe this wasn’t the best idea-” you began to say but before you could finish Kiara cut you off “you know we were all extremely comfortable until you brought them here” you groaned regretting letting Sarah drag you into this mess, you were clearly not wanted like she had tried to convince you the entire car ride here. “Stop talking about us like we’re not here” Sarah’s voice could be heard from beside you “then leave!”

You scoffed turning in Sarah’s direction “I told you” crossing your arms over your chest you got ready to leave only to have Sarah pull you down again “told her what exactly that she’s a liar-” Kiara began but Sarah obviously didn’t want to listen to her anymore “no that you’re a shit talking bitch” your eyes went wide at Sarah’s words, you’d never in your many years of friendship heard her talk to someone like that. “Oh my god” you laughed one hand covering your mouth as you looked between Kiara and Sarah.

Suddenly everyone was talking, yelling and screaming over each other, until you heard Kiara give John B an ultimatum “me or her?” She commanded, everyone went silent at her words eyes diverting between John B and Kiara. “Both” he stated causing Kiara to scoff, angrily turning around and making her way off of John B’s porch.

“Can I just say you handled that beautifully” JJ snickered sarcasm evident in his tone. “Listen Sarah-” John B began ignoring JJ “No it’ll be fine right?” Sarah scoffed quoting John B on his previous words to her “we’re leaving” she finally stated grabbing your hand and leading you back to the car.

“Well that went like shit” you huffed as soon as you both got inside the vehicle “shut up” Sarah whined slamming her face onto the steering wheel “how the hell is our relationship going to work if his best friend hates me” you honestly felt bad for her you knew John B was a good guy and that Sarah hadn’t been to lucky in her previous relationships “we’ll fix it” you reassured her “somehow” you added underneath your breath “how are we going to fix this Y/N” Sarah doubted hands tightening around the steering wheel.

But as she went to start the car JJ quickly ran in front of it preventing you from driving away “what the hell” you questioned getting out of the car and walking towards him “John B wants us all to go out on the water to you know blow off some steam after- whatever that was back there” JJ insisted resting his hand on the hood of Sarah’s car, you looked over at Sarah questioningly and she just nodded giving you her answer.

Luckily Sarah always kept some extra bikinis in her trunk so you didn’t have to drive all the way back to figure 8 and then back to the cut simply to get some swimwear and towels.

Being out on the water was something you really needed, as you lay at the front of the boat Sarah next to you letting the sun devour every part of your skin, you felt somewhat problem free for the first time in weeks.

“Enjoying the view?” you chuckled since JJ’s staring hadn’t gone unnoticed, he didn’t seem faced by your words only moving his sunglasses to the tip of his nose as he continued to check you out “indeed I am” he hummed before taking another swig of the beer he held in his hands.

“Uh girls can you go get us some- uhm food from the cabin” John B’s voice could suddenly be heard from behind you, you found it weird that he was asking both of you to do it but then again, he was a bit weird.

“Sure” Sarah replied giving you a confused glance as you followed her down the small stairs and into the cabin “I don’t see anything” you mumbled looking around the small storage space, you were about to turn back around, Sarah following behind when the door above you was abruptly slammed shut, Sarah quickly ran towards it banging her fists with all her strength against it, this is it you were both going to die was all you could think as you stared at the closed door.

A couple of minutes had gone by when you finally decided enough was enough pushing Sarah out of the way and repeatedly slamming your fists against the door. When it finally swung open you were not expecting to see who was now stood in front of you “Kiara?” you questioned but she didn’t reply, rushing to the front of the boat you quickly followed her Sarah hot on your heels “get your asses back here!” Kiara demanded, your eyes went wide once you noticed the three boys had abandoned the boat leaving the three of you behind “we can’t, not until you guys figure this out!” John B yelled back climbing up onto the boat Pope and JJ were stood on “I don’t have anything to do with this!” you yelled back gesturing between Sarah and Kiara, you were going to kill her for dragging you into this mess.

“We don’t care they’re your friends” JJ winked saluting you as they started the boat “I will kill every single one of you!” Kiara threatened but the boys didn’t seem faced at her words “you can’t just leave!” Sarah pleaded hoping John B would change his mind “There’s food in the cooler and JJ rolled a blunt” Pope yelled raising his thumbs up in the air “hydroponic!” JJ added.

“fucking assholes” you muttered watching the boat sail away into the distance. An awkward silence quickly filled the air as the three of you stood in a circle eyes darting between each other, you had never felt so out of place in your entire life.

“I’m down for some weed” you finally broke the silence, you’d never in your life smoked before but thought since Kiara often did it it would be a good way to break the tension.

Kiara motioned for you to follow her as she searched the boat for JJ’s box which always contained his weed and lighter. When she finally found it she made her way to the front of the boat taking a seat next to you and immediately lighting the blunt, she passed it to you after a couple of seconds, you took a small hit, surprised you didn’t cough but as you were about to hand it to Sarah, Kiara quickly snatched it out of your hand “actually” she spoke, putting the blunt up to her lips and taking yet another hit.

“Really” Sarah scoffed snatching it away from her “go easy” Kiara warned “it’s JJ’s cousins cripple” Sarah ignored her raising the blunt up to her lips and taking way to big of a hit, she immediately started coughing as she breathed out the smoke Kiara rolling her eyes as she glared down at the two of you.

A couple of hours later it had gotten dark and it was obvious that Sarah was high as a kite, she kept asking the both of you very strange would you rather questions, you didn’t feel anything having only taken one hit of the blunt.

Sarah kept on pestering Kiara till she finally snapped “Oh my god! enough of the ‘hey Kiara’ bullshit, why’d you do it?” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you looked between the two girls “I don’t know what you mean-” Sarah began but Kiara cut her off “we we’re best friends, we stole beer from your dads fridge, cried about boys and the next thing I know i’m watching your birthday party happen from instagram” you felt partly guilty, having spammed your stories and close friends with endless of videos and pictures from that night.

They continued talking about Kiara having called the cops to shut down the party and that when people got close to Sarah she bails, she had never talked to you about it before so it kind of surprised you, but you didn’t want to butt in, it was a conversation for another day.

As you guys got ready to go to bed Kiara made Sarah promise that she wouldn’t do the same thing to John B, Sarah only nodded resting her head on the pillow before everything went silent between the three of you.

“Also i’m sorry called the cops” Kiara broke the silence causing all three of you burst into fits of laughter “I knew it you bitch” Sarah giggled propping her self up onto her elbows “you should’ve invited me” Kiara replied looking over at Sarah “so you called the cops!?” you cackled “well my birthday’s next weekend so you’re definitely invited to that, wouldn’t want the cops showing up there to” you joked “shut up” Kiara quipped as your laughters faded into the night.

The sound of a boat engine woke you guys up early the next morning, finally you thought as you rubbed your eyes slowly getting up from your sleeping position following the girls back to the front of the boat.

“Don’t give them the satisfaction of thinking this worked” you spoke crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at the boys watching the boat get closer “absolutely not” the girls both agreed with you.

“You gotta admit it was kind of funny” John B could be heard as the boat stopped in front of you, your eyes immediately met JJ’s who stepped towards you reaching his hand out to help you back onto their boat, you could hear the girls bickering with John B and Pope in the background but all your attention was on the boy in front of you.

You tripped slightly as you stepped onto the boat causing JJ’s arms to find your waist holding you steady, “that wasn’t cool” you crossed your arms looking up at him “what stopping you from falling into the water?” he challenged acting clueless “no you know what i’m talking about leaving us there the entire night? Not exactly the best way to get into someones pants” the last part you made sure no one but him heard, his eyes went wide as you sat down behind acting nonchalant as JJ’s eyes glared daggers into yours.

When you finally made it back to the pier you felt relieved to be back on land having felt quite sea sick the entire boat ride here “what was that about a birthday party you were talking about Y/N?” Kiara suddenly asked causing all attention to go to you, you cleared your throat before replying “well my parents are out of town next weekend traveling with Ward and Rose so I decided to have a little get together, you’re all welcome to come” you smiled “no fucking way-” JJ began but Kiara cut him off “we’ll be there”

“Great, guess i’ll see you there” you winked the last part more directed at JJ who quickly removed Kiara’s hand from his mouth giving her a questioning look. Sarah pecked John B on the lips before you both said your goodbyes and headed back to Sarah’s car.

“What the hell?” JJ scolded as he looked back up at Kiara “I don’t wanna go to some kook party, do I look like I like to get the shit beat out of me?” Kiara rolled her eyes “JJ my parents also told me about Wards trip Rafe’s going with them so he won’t be there” Kiara reassured him “let’s just go and if it sucks we’ll leave” John B suggested “for once in my life, I actually agree with JJ” Pope added in “come on guys it’ll be fun” Kiara implored “I’ll think about it” JJ replied watching you walk off in the distance.

tag list: @k-n-e @avashroom @sspidermanss @free-pool-trash @we-are-only-halfway-home93 @k-k0129 @charoum @daygiowvibe @maybebanks @treestarrrrrrrr @whothehellistova @chasefreakinstokes @http-cherries @dolanfivsosxox @laurenroseh90-blog @multifandomlovess @jaazzzzz @tiredfeels @howdyherron @a-baby-dolly @eviction-notice-no666 @voidsxsnets @imagines-and-preferences1216 @elioelioeli0 @iwanttobetracer420 @jjshottub @queen1054 @imsad05 @yelyahryan @sunshinemadds @wwylmlive

strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :( If you want to be added to the taglist let me know!! also please notify me if I forgot to tag you. <33

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks netflix #jj #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #john b imagine #kiara #pope #john b

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vantaenims · 4 years

Text

moonlight i. | jimin

pairing: contemporary dancer!jimin x reader

genre: college au | fluff, angst, mystery

word count: 1.3k

warning/s: future depictions of violence.

summary: As if it’s calling you, you followed the sounds of the luring piano inside the auditorium but what’s more alluring is the boy dancing gracefully on the stage, enthralling everyone who dares to watch but you never knew that such ethereal beauty lies within a sense of mystery.

masterlist

next>

It’s now or never.

His mind is wiped from any rationality but was instead flooded with impulsiveness, never once cared or thought about the consequences it might lead to, just the pure thought of ending it was what’s more important.

Helpless is what he is as he watched the mess unfold in front of him, tears streaming down on his face. He woke up from reality upon seeing his friend kneeling down on the floor as he muttered countless apologies like it would make any difference at all.

What can he do when what’s done is already done or perhaps what’s gone is already gone?

Jimin was devoured by his inner demons.

The first week of the second half of the first semester is nothing but a bore considering that the preliminary examinations just ended a week ago. Usually, professors would just give out the exam results to review for corrections and dismiss the class early but disappointingly your World Literature professor is not one of those indolent professors.

With the light setting dimmed inside the classroom, you try to keep yourself awake as you listen to the analysis discussion of Albert Camus’ Sisyphus.

You write your name repeatedly on your notebook until you noticed the red string bracelet you’ve been wearing since last night when you found it on the computer desk’s bookshelf while you we’re studying.

You wore it after asking Jungkook – your roommate – if he owns it, he told you that he doesn’t own such an accessory thus the reason you kept it as yours. Grazing your fingers over the braided knots in the middle, you find it elegant even though it’s just a simple red thread.

“Since we’ll be covering a lot of topics, I’ve decided that it’d be best to assign every one of you a narrative” your professor said as he took out a mini fishbowl filled with rolled papers.

“Take one and pass it around” he gave the bowl to the student in the first row. You got one for yourself and pass the bowl, unrolling it you read the scribbled words – Clair de Lune by Paul Verlaine.

“Okay, now that you’ve all picked a narrative” you glanced up to look at your professor, “I want you to make a report about it, I’ll be posting on the portal what should be the contents and when you’ll be assigned to do the presentation”

Alright, you take back what you said that your world literature professor is not one of those indolent professors. As expected, she assigned you to do the reporting so she could sit back and just listen; pass your job to the students.

The class was dismissed, meaning your class is done for the day. You stood in the hallway as you wait for Areum & Daeun to go out of the room. You met them at the start of the school year and they’re literature majors as well who you’ve gotten the chance to be much closer to them attending a university wide welcome party for freshmans.

“What did you get?” Areum asked you.

“Claire de Lune by Paul Verlaine and you?”

“It’s something about rose…” she retrieved the piece of paper from her jacket, “Ah it’s A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner.”

“Where do you guys want to eat?” Eunha said as she got out of the classroom. You go down the stairs as you were all suggesting where until you decided to eat at a Café, saying that you should treat yourself after a week of examinations.

But then your phone buzzed, it’s a message from Daeun. She’s a junior student and the Vice President for Internal Affairs of the Literature Department’s organization.

[Mon, Oct 11, 6:07 PM]

Daeun: Y/N Can I call you? It’s important

Before you were even given the chance to reply to her text, your phone went off as you swiped it to answer.

“Hi Y/N! I’m sorry it’s such a late notice but could you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, sure, about what?” you said as you momentarily slowed down your pace.

“Could you please ask them to sign our request letter for equipment to the Facilities Management Office?”

“I thought you passed it yesterday?” you questioned, you remembered when she dismissed you the moment you asked her if she needs any help in preparing for the General Assembly of your department, you are her Junior Executive after all but instead she told you that she’ll let you know right away if ever she needs one.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to ask them to sign our receiving copy because I left it in the organization room” she apologetically said.

“Sure, I’ll drop by the office. It’s in the Fine Arts Building right?”

“Yeah, it’s right beside the auditorium” she informed you, “Again, I’m really sorry for bothering you. Thank you so much Y/N!”

You laughed as you quickly dismissed her, saying that it’s your duty to assist and help her anyway. Daeun was really nothing but sweet to you, glad that she’s far from those snobby and bossy student councils you expected.

You ran up to Areum and Eunha after you ended the call, stopping them to say that you’ll need to pass a requirement in the office, “We can go with you if you want” Eunha said.

“No, it’s okay I’ll catch after you if I can. I’ll text you?” you bid them goodbye as they told you to meet them at the café if you’ll be able to finish earlier.

As soon as you enter the organization room, you saw the other junior executives preparing the props needed for the program that’ll be set few weeks from now. Daeun proposed this program because she sees this as a perfect opportunity for all the literature students to bond and at the same time to appreciate their major by performing skits.

You excused yourself as you get the paper in the table, quickly greeting them encouraging words before you went out to go to the Fine Arts Building which is approximately 10 minutes away from your building.

Upon entering the building, you were elated to see that they have elevator services not unlike in your building but as you were about to go inside, you were barred from entering by the lady operating it, saying how the school staff are the only ones allowed to use it. Great. You grunted as soon as the doors closed and proceeded to use the stairs instead.

You were gasping for air by the time you got at the sixth floor, as if walking here in this building isn’t tiring enough. You pushed the door of the office but it did not budge, looking up to see that the lights are off. It’s already closed as it says on the door that it’s office hours is from 9 A.M. to 6 P.M.

“Really?” you whispered in annoyance, looking at your watch to see that it has only been twenty minutes since closing time.

Instead, you placed both of your hands on the railings of the wide vast balcony hallway of the building that overlooks the field as you observe the sunset view for a while to rest before you go down the stairs. It irks you a bit how you went all the way here for nothing but the scenic view could suffice, you get your phone to update Daeun.

[Mon, Oct 10, 6:20 PM]

You: The office is closed.

You: It’s only open up to 6 PM

Daeun: Omg I’m so sorry Y/N I thought it was open ‘til 7. You can leave it in the organization room, I’ll pass it tomorrow.

You: I’ll come back here tomorrow

You: My class ends at 5:45 every Tuesday so don’t sweat it!

Placing the phone back on your pocket, you walk towards the hallway but immediately stopped when you suddenly heard a music playing coming from the auditorium just when you were about to leave. A sound of piano to be specific.

You thought that maybe it’s one of the staff from the facilities office, possibly checking the sound system. You let out a relieved sigh, maybe you’ll be able to sign the papers tonight but you didn’t expect to see such view when you opened the doors of the auditorium.

next>

A/N: This is too short for a chapter but anyways it’s more of an introduction to the whole series. This is my first fic series so please bear with me 🥺 If you want to be tagged, don’t hesitate to reply or drop by my asks. Hope you’ll like this!

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 4 years

Text

In honor of Valentines Day being on a Friday this year I thought I’d share the very first Carry On fic I ever wrote—Friday I’m in Love. It’s pure fluff that was written after my first attempt at baking sour cherry scones. You can find the recipe included with the fic on AO3 or here.

Friday I’m in Love

Baz:

I let myself into the flat.

It’s blessedly empty, as I expected. Simon and Bunce both have their last examinations today.

Mine were yesterday.

I believe I showed remarkable restraint in not coming over last night. I wanted to see Simon but distracting him before his last exam would have been poor form. Not to mention Bunce would most certainly have bitten my head off.

She’s an absolute terror when she’s studying I’ve discovered.

I didn’t know her well enough before Eighth Year at Watford and as she didn’t come back for second term I never had the chance to experience her end of term behaviour first hand.

She’s fucking terrifying.

I hoist my bag of supplies onto the countertop of their small kitchen and question myself again as to why I didn’t just do this at my flat. It’s far more spacious.

But my place is also far more sterile. I don’t mean clean, although it’s certainly tidier and far more sanitary than Simon and Bunce’s kitchen.

It’s warmer here. Not temperature warmer but more lived in. They actually use it far more than I use mine so it feels less stark. More welcoming. More like a home.

I can cook, if I must. I’m not like Fiona, who would likely expire on the spot if forced to fend for herself without take-away. Daphne’s all right. She always lets the staff off for the holidays. It gives her a chance to muck about in the kitchen herself on those days. She’s quite keen on it--even without magic--and honestly, she’s quite good at it.

It’s never held my interest though. Until now.

I’ve got all my supplies tidily set out on the countertop and I rummage in the cabinets for mixing bowls. I brought my own measuring cups and spoons. I wasn’t confident they’d have what I needed.

I’m not planning to use any magic for this. I’m going to do it all myself, because I want to, for Simon.

I’d rung Cook Pritchard a few days ago, when the idea struck me. There are likely recipes on the internet of course, but really what’s the point of that? It wouldn’t be the same, would it?

If I wanted to make Watford sour cherry scones for Simon it only made sense to get the Watford recipe. Hence the call to Cook Pritchard.

It had taken more wheedling than I expected to get her to part with the recipe.

“You aren’t the first student to ask, Basilton,” she had said. “It’s a Watford favorite but I don’t hand it out to just anyone.”

Pointing out that I wasn’t ‘just anyone’ would have been counterproductive at that particular moment.

It seemed I would have to resort to begging. “It’s not for just anyone,” I had said, my voice softening. “It’s for Snow. Simon Snow.”

I had heard her little intake of breath across the phone line and I knew I had her attention. I may have had an in with Cook Pritchard, being Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s son, but no one appreciated the food at Watford more than Simon and Cook knew that better than anyone.

I had continued, pressing my momentary advantage. “He’s finishing his first term at uni. I thought it would be a good surprise for him to come home to a platter of Watford’s sour cherry scones when he’s done with exams. Would you share the recipe just this once?”

She had emailed it to me within the hour. I am still coming to terms with the fact that Cook Pritchard used email. It was not something one thought about in regard to the Watford faculty and staff, even though Professor Bunce had eased the restrictions on electronics and set up WiFi when she took over as Headmaster. She’s never far from her laptop so it had been one of the first changes she made. After getting rid of the blasted merwolves, that is. Mitali Bunce has my vote of confidence for that alone. I hate the merwolves.

So now I’m here, in Simon’s flat, preparing to make the famous scones for my boyfriend.

I like the sound of that. Boyfriend. My boyfriend.

I would do anything for Simon.

Penny:

I’m done with exams before Simon, which isn’t surprising, but I’m too knackered to wait for him. I need a shower. I want to curl up on the sofa and watch stupid, mindless movies with him tonight.

And Baz, most likely. He’s sure to make an appearance tonight, after staying away yesterday.

Good thing, too. Simon is utterly incapable of focusing when Baz is around. Oh, I know he claims Baz helps him study but it’s rubbish. I’ve seen how he looks at Baz. He can’t keep his eyes—or his hands—off him.

To give credit where credit is due—Baz does try to help. He actually does help Simon study for some of his classes. He’s a stern taskmaster when he chooses to be.

But then he starts “rewarding” Simon for a job well done and I have to retreat to my room before it turns into a bloody snog fest, which it invariably does. Baz is as bad as Simon when it comes to the looking and touching.

I hear the music as soon as I open the door to the flat. How did Simon get home so early, I wonder, until I stop to actually listen to what’s playing.

My suspicion is confirmed when I enter the kitchen to find Baz washing up dishes as Kishi Bashi plays from his phone.

I really have my doubts about vampire hearing acuity when he startles as I come up next to him.

“Bloody hell, Bunce!” he snaps, glaring down at me as he picks up the bowl he dropped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“You’re the one who’s supposed to have the preternaturally enhanced hearing,” I say, frowning at him. “Or is that only in regard to Simon?”

Baz points to the sink, which is still running, and then to the small speaker on the counter next to his phone. “Running water and music, Bunce. Even I can’t hear you sneaking up on me over that.”

“Wasn’t sneaking,” I retort. “It is my flat after all. You’re the one who broke in.”

Baz rolls his eyes. “It’s not ‘breaking in’ if I have a key.”

The scent has hit me now. The kitchen smells divine. I stop fussing at him. “What have you been doing?” I ask, bending down to peek into the oven.

He bats my hand away before I can open the oven door to look.

“All in good time, Bunce, all in good time,” he says, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Simon on his way?”

“Should be shortly. What are you up to, Baz?” I’ve taken in the bags of flour and sugar on the counter, the bowls and measuring cups in the drying rack and the heavenly aroma wafting from the oven. “You’ve got a nicer kitchen than we do—why did you drag yourself and all this over here?” I ask.

It is telling that Baz blushes before he speaks. Of course he does.

“I wanted them to be warm, when Snow got home. And not by magic.”

“Wanted what to be warm?” I inquire.

He rolls his eyes at me again right as the oven timer goes off. He doesn’t answer me--just turns to pull on oven mitts and I’m a bit dazed for a moment at the sight of such a domestic looking Baz. I don’t notice what’s on the pan until he puts it on top of the stove to cool.

They’re scones. Cherry scones. Of course. My chest tightens and my gaze softens as I look at Baz.

He’s flushed more than he was a moment ago (which means Baz fed before he came over) and his eyes are riveted to the floor, not meeting mine.

“They smell fantastic,” I say. “They look just like the ones at Watford.” I bump his shoulder with mine. “You are such a sap, Baz. He’ll love it.”

Baz smiles down at me. It’s such a soft look, more like the ones he usually gives Simon. “You think so?” he asks quietly.

“I know so,” I say. “I’ll have to snag one before he gets home—you know he’ll eat them all, down to the last crumb.”

He swats my hand away again. “Keep your mitts off them, Bunce. Those are all for Simon.”

Simon:

“What’s for me?” I ask. Baz and Penny turn startled eyes in my direction. It’s not often I manage to sneak up on Penny but I almost never catch Baz by surprise.

I’d heard the music and the low murmur of voices when I came in. I’m dead on my feet. I stayed up far too late studying last night and my last exam was a bear.

But I’m done and home now and my two favorite people in the world are here and there’s a glorious smell in the air that is tantalizingly familiar.

“Hey, Simon,” Penny says.

Baz walks across the room to slip his arms around my waist. “Hello, love,” he says to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I melt into his arms, only too happy to lean my weight into his steady grip. I rest my head on his shoulder as my own arms wrap around him.

“Smells good in here,” I mumble.

“I should hope so,” Baz says. “I wouldn’t have wanted all my hard work to be in vain.”

I pick up my head to look at him. “You made something?” I ask and then look around the kitchen until I spot the baking pan resting on the stove top.

I freeze and then blink for a moment as I realize it’s a tray of scones. Cherry scones to be exact.

“You made these?” I ask, pointing to them. “For me?”

“Who else would I make cherry scones for, Snow?” Baz says crisply. “I don’t know of anyone who has as strong feelings for them as you do.”

“Simon,” I say, automatically correcting him as I drift over to the scones.

They look just like Cook Pritchard’s.

I don’t even know what to say. This may be the first time in my life I’m faced with warm cherry scones and I’m not immediately devouring them.

“Aren’t you going to have one?” Baz asks me. “I think you’d be assured I wasn’t out to poison you by now.”

“Git,” I say absentmindedly.

“I’ll have one then,” Penny says, reaching her hand towards the tray.

Baz bats her hand away and glares at her. “I told you, Bunce, these are Simon’s. You can have one when he’s done. Maybe.”

“If he’s left any,” Penny huffs. “You know how he is. He practically inhales them.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” I complain. My tail lashes once then wraps itself around Baz’s leg. I reach out for a scone. It’s hot to touch still. I toss it from hand to hand.

Penny groans and hands me a plate and the butter dish.

I slather the scone with butter and take a bite. My eyes close and I could swear I’m back at Watford—the smell, the taste, the company. For just a minute I am back there, a ghost of a tingle in my fingers and a warm rush in my chest.

I slip my free arm around Baz’s waist and look up at him. His cheeks have a dusting of pink and it goes all the way up to his ears. He looks soft and shy and open. I go up on my toes and brush my buttery lips to his. “Thank you, Baz.”

His arm tightens around my waist as he pulls me closer. “Anything for you, love."

And I know he means it.

“If I have to watch you two snog in the kitchen then I deserve a scone,” Penny says, snatching one from the tray.

“Then we might as well give you a show, Bunce,” Baz says, turning to me. He rolls his eyes. I’ve grabbed another scone and am in the midst of eating it as he leans down to kiss me again.

“Incorrigible, Snow.”

“Simon,” I say, as I swallow the last bite and pull his face down to mine.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563994

#simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #snowbaz #valentines day #friday im in love #fluff #my writing #my fics

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ratsmagnumdong · 5 years

Text

Late Night Talks (Severus Snape X Reader)

SUMMARY: Late night talks with Minerva McGonagall lead to the subject of Severus Snape.

WARNINGS: None

LENGTH: 2125

NOTES: This is my first written fic I’ve done in literal years, so it’s not the best. Just a little warm up, I suppose. One of the biggest things I hate doing is using (Y/N), so I’ve taken up the idea to use an actual name while in a first person perspective. Consider it an X Reader or X OC, I don’t really quite mind. I just write how I’m comfortable. Possible part 2 if anyone wants it? :3

---

“Ogden’s Old or Blishen’s?”

You settled yourself into the velvet, cushioned seat. “Pardon?” You looked up at the older woman pouring herself a very recognizable amber liquid into an empty glass cup.

“Firewhiskey, dear. Which do you prefer?” Minerva smiled sweetly.

“Oh, no wine today?” Minerva usually offered wine, but it became apparent that she needed something a bit stronger. To be honest, you did too.

It seemed like the school year was particularly stressful for the professors at Hogwarts. It seemed like the students were even more troublesome than usual. There seemed to be an increase of students sneaking out their dorms past curfew. Many have been caught trying to smuggle alcohol into the school premises. Students trying to find sneaky ways to cheat on their exams. Not to mention the endless stack of student work that was to be graded. It was just entirely exhausting trying to keep up with everything.

Since the beginning of the school year, Minerva has been inviting you to her chambers after hours to drink and relax. These little meetings consisted of you both buzzed and gossiping about… well, anything. Your gossiping and venting had no restrictions; students, other professors, work in general, etc. There wasn’t a malicious intention or anything like that… it was just a way to unwind for the both of you.

Now, the year was ending and this would be your last session with Minerva until the next school year.

“Ogden’s Old, please,” you said softly, looking around the room. You were always a fan of Minerva’s chambers. The colour scheme of red and gold was an obvious tribute to the Gryffindor House. You always admired how prideful she was about her house. Despite your own sorting of Slytherin, you always got along with Minerva. She was like a mother you never had… sort of.

Minerva soon walked over with two glasses of firewhiskey, handing you a glass before settling herself into her own seat. “So, how was your week, Iris?” She brought the glass to her lips and sipped, as if tasting it. When deemed acceptable, she took a long swig.

You almost seemed to sink into the cushioned chair, taking your own much needed drink from your glass. The firewhiskey burned your throat, but in a strangely pleasant way. “Oh, dreadful. It seems like the students are more rowdy at the end of the year,” you sighed softly.

The older woman smiled knowingly. “Oh, most definitely. It happens every single year,” she replied with a tone of understanding. After all, she’s been working at Hogwarts for a very long time.

“Ya know, I found these Slytherin boys sneaking around the halls last night. When I asked what they were doing out their dorms, they had the audacity to say, ‘They were trying to Slytherin to my pants!’ I sent them straight to Professor Snape. That oughta show ‘em,” you vented to the other woman, an irritated frown etching your lips.

Minerva had her own repulsed expression on her face, shaking her head. “Merlin, I had my fair share of hormonal boys when I was younger,” she smiled ever so slightly. “Thankfully, I don’t have to deal with it as much anymore.”

You huffed, crossing your leg over the other. “Even worse, it’s usually the Slytherin boys. Can you believe that? My own house! It’s degrading!” You waved your hand a bit drastically, nearly spilling the contents in your glass. “They stare at me as if I’m a slab of meat they’re ready to devour,” you mumbled, taking a much needed drink of your firewhiskey.

“Well, have you spoken to Severus about it?”

Your eyes darted up to meet hers when she said this. “Speak to Professor Snape? Why?” You questioned, the simple thought of the man made you squirm in your seat.

“Iris, he’s the Slytherin Head Of House. I think you should bring this to his attention.” She gave you a gentle look. “You’re on good terms with him, right? I’ve seen you two speaking to each other at dinner for quite some time.”

The edges of your lips quirked up a bit, reminiscing about the first time you actually met him. It was your first day of being Pomona’s apprentice. Truth be told, you had actually applied for the position of the Herbology professor. Though, Dumbledore unfortunately informed you that the position was taken already and the current professor wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon. But to your relief, he said the Herbology professor wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands helping her out. Hence you being an apprentice for Pomona Sprout herself.

When dinner came around, you planted yourself in the only open seat... right in between Minerva and Severus. Before dinner had started, you were informed by Pomona that Severus Snape was not a talkative man. So, it was quite surprising when he actually spoke to you. And he was the one who initiated the conversation.

“I assume you are Pomona’s new apprentice?” The deep, rich baritone voice sent shivers down your spine.

Dear Lord, how could somebody have such a heavenly voice?

You looked at him, your expression distinctly matching a deer caught in the headlights. “Oh- uhm, yes, I am,” you stumbled over your words, clearly not expecting for him to say anything to you throughout dinner.

Snape stared at you with a raised eyebrow. His dark eyes seemed to pierce right through you. With an uneasy silence, you realized that he was awaiting your name.

“Oh! I am, uh, Iris Hellstrand. I’ll be assisting Pomona for now on.” You extended your hand to him.

He seemed to stare at your offered hand with an unidentifiable expression before firmly grasping it, shaking it rather stiffly. Your much smaller hand almost seemed to be enveloped his own large ones. It was nearly impossible to notice how beautiful his hands were. How neatly trimmed his nails were, how slender and delicate his fingers were, how surprisingly soft his hands-

“Severus Snape,” he interrupted your thoughts. “I teach… Potions.” He spoke with a dramatic drawl. It left you clinging onto every word. You would have loved to hear him talk more… his voice was just so… intoxicating.

He pulled his hand away slowly and set them back to his side.

A smile grew on your lips. “Oh, so I’ll be working quite a bit with you! I was told that a lot of the plants in the garden were to be used in your potions,” you said with much enthusiasm to Severus’ surprise.

The expression that Severus gave you was a questioning one, as if it was strange that you seemed almost too excited to work with him. “... yes…” was his only response, low and dramatic.

Both parties staring at each other with rather neutral expressions, a calm silence overtaking them before both turned to their plates in understanding that the conversation was over.

Well… Pomona did say he wasn’t a talkative man... but it wasn’t exactly an unpleasant interaction.

Pomona was quite the gossiper and she told you much about all the staff. She had told you that the children disliked Severus very much. Like if they had a poll on who was the most disliked professor at Hogwarts, he would win automatically. He didn’t seem that bad when you spoke to him-

“Iris!” Minerva’s fingers snapping in front of your face seemed to snap you out of your memories.

A pink tint covered your cheeks, blinking at the witch in front of you. “Oh, uh, sorry. I guess I got lost in my thoughts,” you mumbled sheepishly. You reached over to grab the bottle of Ogden’s on the coffee table in front of you, refilling your glass.

“Thinking about Severus?”

The bottle nearly slipped from your hands, but you were quick to grasp it firmly to your chest. You looked up at the woman with bewilderment. “What makes you think that?” You managed to sputter out, setting the bottle down.

Minerva gave a knowing smile. “Iris, you two have been dancing around each other ever since you met.” She set her empty glass down, done drinking for the night. Unlike you, who decided to indulge in a second glass.

Was it that obvious?

“What gave it away?” You looked at Minerva with soft eyes, lifting the glass to your lips and taking in the firewhiskey. The burn slowly subsided and now a satisfying warmth spread throughout your body. You found yourself melting into the comfortable, velvet chair.

“It’s common knowledge around the castle. You two aren’t exactly subtle about your interest in each other,” she laughed wholeheartedly, her hands entwined on her lap.

She wasn’t wrong. Severus had definitely intrigued you ever since you both met. It was almost like a magnetic pull. Despite what everyone said about him, he wasn’t that bad. To you, that is.

It started off with small interactions. You always find yourself gravitating towards him in the Dining Hall, using lame excuses to the other Professors just to sit next to him. During those short times, you both would have interesting conversations regarding the most random subjects. You enjoyed it immensely, looking forward to his dry humour and fascinating discussions.

If it was a particularly slow day, you even found yourself sitting in his classroom when he was teaching. Watching the Potions Master teach was quite entertaining- it seemed like Severus had a knack for theatrics and dramatic effect and it never failed to make you laugh when the students rolled their eyes or imitated him when his back was turned. You usually sat by his desk quietly, observing and only pitching in occasionally to add to Severus’ dialogue. That was a very rare occasion though, as most of the time you were too entranced by his deep, velvety voice that seemed to just wrap right around you every time he spoke.

Due to your position as Pomona’s assistant, you had to work with Severus quite a lot. It seemed that Pomona required you to go see Severus for the simplest of things; delivering potions ingredients, sending notes- one time she had sent you to him for no reason! When you arrived to his classroom, you both were quite confused to why Pomona sent you. At that point, it became clear to you that the older witch was trying to play matchmaker.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The words snapped you out of your thoughts. “W-What?” Severus seemed to plague your thoughts more often, making you more receptive to getting lost in your thoughts.

A subtle smirk grew on Minerva’s lips. “I said, I think you should talk to him,” she repeated. “About the harassment from the Slytherin boys.”

“Oh, yes, uhh, I’ll do it eventually,” the words tumbled out of your mouth rather quickly. You had expected her to say something along the lines of talking to Severus about your little schoolgirl crush.

She looked at the clock resting on top of the fireplace. “As much as I’d love to continue our conversation, it’s getting rather late.”

“Oh, right, yes,” you set your now empty glass on the table and stood up, wringing your hands nervously. “Thank you for this, Minerva. These late night talks really help.” They really did. When things got too stressful, Minerva always had her door open to talk or vent.

The older witch smiled sweetly. “Of course, dear. They have been absolutely delightful… I hope to continue next year,” she said, a little twinkle in her eyes as she rummaged through a shelf as if to find something. “Iris, dear, can you do me a favour before you retire for the night?”

“Of course. What is it?” You watched as she attempted to reach something off a high shelf, fail, and then resort to using magic to levitate it down. A wine bottle with a ribbon wrapped around the top.

“Can you deliver this to Severus for me?”

Oh.

Before you could say anything, a calm smile graced her lips and she said, “I suppose you can call it an end of the year gift. I would deliver it myself, but I’m rather exhausted and would like to get right into bed.” The calm smile slowly turned into a sly smile.

Cheeky woman. She knew what she was doing.

And you really couldn’t just reject her after all she’s done for you.

A soft, defeated sigh escaped your lips before accepting the bottle. “Course, I can. My chambers are on the way to his anyways. Goodnight, Minerva,” you went to the door, bottle tucked under your arm.

“And goodnight to you, Miss Hellstrand.”

And with that, she shut the door, leaving you with a gift needed to be delivered to a certain Potions Master.

#Severus Snape #Severus Snape X Reader #Severus Snape X OC #im using very little tags cause honestly? im not sure how to tag this #but yeah!#first fic ive done in a while

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missnmikaelson-main · 5 years

Text

Testing, Testing 1,2,3

I do not own TVD or TO.

This story started off as a drabble but then turned into full on smut with some fluff thrown in. It was inspired by an otp prompt on tumblr.

I thought I'd move into fluff and smut to get away from the crazy angst, hurt/comfort Elejah fic I'm working on. That's almost done too btw and should be posted soon. I just started writing and it took a really dark turn, so I needed to step back from it and feel the love again.

This started off being Kolena and then it felt like Elejah at the midpoint. I went back and forth alot and never actually named the Male lead so you can insert whichever Mikaelson brother you prefer in this story.

Hope you enjoy.

18+ Only please

_______

She glances up when he steps inside the bedroom and pulls off his shirt on the way to the closet. The pen in her hand drops following the path of her eyes, and who could blame her for staring?

He's standing half naked and reaching into the closet; the muscles in his back shifting with the movement and her mouth waters at the sight.

She knows she's caught when he turns around and cocks an eyebrow. He gives a pointed look at her forgotten stack of essays before meeting her kidded eyes

"Why are you just sitting there watching me change?"

She swallows and wills away the flush that's creeping up her neck.

"I'm uh…" Her eyes fall to the paper in her lap and inspiration hits her over the head better than her student's poorly executed thesis. "I'm grading you."

She makes a show of looking him over this time.

"Congratulations," she smirks, "you get an A."

He stares at her, affronted, and gestures from his chiseled features to the toned muscles of his stomach.

"I deserve an A," he gasps, full of mock indignation.

She purses her lips, tilts her head, and narrows her eyes; embarrassment is forgotten in her sudden scrutiny.

"I don't know about that," she shakes her head, attempts to hide her smirk. "I'd have to see more to give you a grade that high."

"Really?" He looks at her with a solemn expression, that has no business being on his face, and reaches for his belt. The denim is on the floor by his shoes before he gets to the bed. "How about now?"

She moves her papers aside and drags the tip of her finger down his chest, traces the v at his hips, and frowns.

"I'm still hesitant," her eyes sparkle when she looks up. "I would have to have a thorough presentation before I could give you a grade that high. Someone has to go above and beyond for an A."

"Is this an oral presentation?" He nods along. "Or a physical demonstration?"

"For top Mark's?" She smiles innocently it turns to a grin when he nods. "Both."

"Very well," his lips quirk up in a smirk, "I think you'll find I'm up to the challenge."

She doesn't get a chance to laugh before her papers are knocked aside and he's pushing her into the mattress, rucking up her skirt and nipping at her smooth throat. Her giggle is more of a moan when she threads her fingers through his hair and guides him lower; her wedding bands are all but hidden in his dark hair.

"You're a bit of a hard ass, you know that?" He glances up, slipping her panties down her legs.

She scoffs and grins.

"Everybody knows the oral exam comes first. And if you want an A you need a conclusive report."

He smirks that infuriating smirk and tosses her underwear aside. He then pushes her dress up, urging her to sit up so he can pull the material over her head.

"What are you doing?"

"My oral presentation has a visual component," he winks.

She shivers and props her weight up o her elbows; watches through lidded eyes as he kisses back down her stomach: open mouthed and wet. She lets him take control and lift her thighs over his shoulders so only her lower back and elbows are on the bed.

He meets her eyes and pauses less than an inch from where she wants him.

"I hope you're paying attention, Mrs. Mikaelson because I would hate to lose marks."

"I promise that you have my undivided attention," her teeth sink into her lower lip. She doesn't have to urge him lower.

Her head falls back when he makes the first contact, licking a long stripe through her folds. Heat starts pooling in her belly and she moans. He licks a few more times, savoring her sweet taste, and then sucks on her clit once before pulling away.

An undignified whine rises in her throat.

"Now, now," he chides, "I did tell you there was a visual component."

She opens her eyes and rolls her head forward so she can watch him. The heat grows when she sees the look in his dark eyes; full of promise.

She knows that he'll stop again if she doesn't pay rapt attention to him so she watches, but it gets hard when he returns to his task. She thinks he might be doing it on purpose; deliberately trying to make her lose control and fall backwards, but she is just as stubborn as he is.

Her eyes, while lidded, remain glued to his as he devours her. The muscles in her thighs begin to quiver and she can feel his smirk against her folds and see it in his eyes.

She shifts her weight before he can stop to talk again and uses one hand to hold the back of his head against her center.

He flicks her clit with his tongue and trails two fingers through her folds; she jerks in surprise, but doesn't look away.

He slides his fingers in her dripping pussy and curls them upwards massaging the spot she's never able to reach on her own; her breathing hitches, but she maintains eye contact.

He continues his dual assault, sucking her clit and stimulating the spongey spot inside that he knows is driving her wild until she starts to whimper. He slips his free hand up her stomach and beneath the cup of her bra, pinching her nipple at the same moment he adds a third finger and finally her head falls back. The victory is not his though.

Her walls clench around his fingers, fluttering with the intensity of her orgasm and a flood of juices flow freely down his hand. He gives the sensitive nub one last hard suck and pulls his fingers free.

She comes down from her high and shivers, opening her mouth for his wet fingers.

He groans when she swirls her tongue around the digits.

"How am I doing so far teach?" He pulls his fingers from her mouth and hovers a hairs breadth from her parted lips.

"Full makes on the oral exam," she pants, "but there are two parts to this presentation. Are you ready for section two?"

"As long as it's not multiple choice."

"Don't worry," she flips them over and shimmies down his body, hooking her thumbs under the band of his dark green boxers, "it's a fill in the blank and there's only the one question."

"Good," he chuckles.

She wraps her fingers around his length after he's sprung free and slides her hand up and down a few times.

"At least you've come prepared," she hums, swiping her thumb over his tip to gather the pre-cum that's been leaking.

"I'm always prepared," he gasps, "frankly, the fact that you think I would come unprepared is insulting."

"Is it?" She giggles, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. The material joins the rest of the fabric on the floor amongst the scattered term papers.

"Extremely," he sniffs. His hands grasp the sides of her face before she can take him in her mouth. "I do believe I am the one being tested, Mrs. Mikaelson."

A thrill runs down her spine. She doesn't think she will ever get tired of hearing that, and suspects half the reason he's still going on with the analogy is so he can call her that; he loves finding excuses to use her title.

She grins and lets him guide her up. His mouth finds hers in a hungry kiss and she's tempted to give him the grade just for his lip work; he does have such a talented mouth. He could talk her into anything, or kiss her into anything.

She is about to break the kiss to tell him as much but then her hips are guided down and she feels her walls stretching to accommodate his impressive length.

They don't do much more talking, finding better ways to occupy their tongues; it's just as well since they don't have enough air to form a coherent sentence much less a word.

He busies his mouth leaving light love bits over her neck and chest, and sucks on the hard pebbles on her nipples.

She finds her lower lip is the perfect tool to muffle her loud moans and bites it hard enough to leave bruises.

They move together in sync for a while until her pace begins to stutter. She bites her lip harder as the coil in her stomach snaps and waves of fire extend, licking through her limbs.

He rolls them over and throws her knee over his shoulder. The new angle lets him hit that sensitive spot again and again, and he knows that she is seeing stars behind her eyelids. He pushes her through one orgasm and into the next before he loses his rhythm and spills inside her waiting womb.

He has just enough strength to let her leg drop before pulling out and laying beside her.

She can feel their combined fluids dribble from her center. Every few seconds she clenches around nothing and wonders if she should shift and use the wall to hold her legs up for a while, but the wall is at least three feet and a deliberate roll away and his chest is warm and inviting.

"Here," he reaches over his head and fumbles for a pillow. With the soft material in his hand he urges her to lift her hips and guides the pillow under her body.

Its awkward and perfect and so them, and they both end up laughing by the time her hips are situated.

"So?"

"You definitely lost points for ruining the mood," she giggles, gasping for breath.

"You could have done that," he points out with a smirk.

"But then I would have ruined the mood."

"There is just no pleasing you, is there?" His eyes twinkle with amusement. "Do any of your students ever get an A?"

"What can I say?" She shrugs one shoulder, a teasing smile on her lips. "I'm very picky, and extremely hard to please."

"It seemed easy," he chuckles.

She looks so adorable with her mussed hair and flushed cheeks that he cant help leaning over to kiss her again. It's not much of a kiss though because neither of them are capable of tempering their smiles.

She teases his stubble with her finger and tilts her head. She is starting to get pins and needles in her toes and she's pretty sure they'll have to change the sheets before going to bed later because the pillow under her lower back is starting to feel damp.

"Do you think we did it?" She smooths her hand over her flat stomach.

"I think we'll have to wait a while for those test results," he kisses her shoulder, "but the odds of passing are better with each retake of the test."

"You make an excellent point," she giggles and spreads her legs for him to settle between.

He is barely in place when a rhythmic tapping is heard on the other side of the door.

"What are you doing?" A tiny voice, high, calls through the wood; she knows not to open the door when it's closed. Their four year old had fallen asleep on the drive home from day care after a busy day.

"Mommy is giving daddy a test, sweetheart," he smirks and pretends to be hurt when Elena smacks his arm.

"Oh…" they can hear her rocking on the squeaky floorboard that they never did get fixed. "Is it a hard test daddy?"

"Parts of it are," he covers Elena's mouth to stifle her laughter.

"Miss. Claire gave us a test today," she scuffs her toes on the floor, "all about the animals we saw at the zoo."

"Did she now?" He tries not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Why don't you go downstairs love, and Mommy and I will be right behind you? We'll fix a snack and you can tell us all about the zoo."

"Okay." They hear her skip down the hallway, but the sound of her voice calling down the stairs makes them both flush.

"Mommy is giving daddy a test, but they're gonna come down in a minute."

"Oh," Elena closes her eyes, as if that might save her the embarrassment. "Please don't let that be a grandparent."

"Elena," a male voice hollers upstairs, and it's so much worse than one of their parents who will just look at them disapprovingly. "Hasn't a tone told you to leave work at work?"

Caroline's voice follows her husband's upwards.

"Don't worry Klaus, I'm sure it wasn't a written test."

Tags @rissyrapp20 @elejah-wonderland @elejahforever @eternityunicorn @morsmornte @fandomrulesall @xanderling

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bisexualklausmikaelson · 5 years

Note

Break up with your girlfriend I'm bored plus klayley

a/n: au college fic/ or Hayley Marshall follows the events of Ariana Grande’s latest music video - threesomes et al. klaus/hayley, with a dash of klaus/hayley/caroline 1. because that video was p gay so I gotta include the gay in this fic and 2. because i’m sucker for threesome fics, sorry if it’s not exactly what you wanted.

―

He has a girlfriend, Hayley reminds herself as she watches him at his desk.

She is fixated by the color of his eyes - not quite like the sky, but a bit like the ocean when the light hits it just right. A bright blue with a bit of green in them, just like a painting.

“Miss Marshall,” her professor addresses her, snapping his fingers in front of her face. “You seem to be done with your quiz, since you’re day dreaming about― “

“When you’re going to shut the hell up and let me leave class?” She cuts him off, just at the moment where he’s about to embarrass her for spying on her crush.

The professor raises a brow at her and the whole class stares in awe.

Klaus releases a soft chuckle as he watches Hayley walk out of the room.

―

She walks in on them making out in an empty science class during lunchtime.

Caroline Forbes is all kinds of beautiful - golden locks sparkling like the sun - almost blinding her. And lips that looked as soft as clouds. Her skirt is hiked up to her waist, revealing a string of a bright red thong and long pale legs accompanied by smooth, creamy skin.

Hayley unexpectedly licks her lips at the sight of the other girl tangled in Klaus’ arms.

“Seriously?” Caroline releases, noticing Hayley’s lingering stare.

The brunette then blinks twice before picking up the books she had left behind. “Sorry,” she stammers, cheeks turning bright red. “I just forgot these here,” she says, before bolting out of the classroom.

She hears Klaus laugh at her antics again and realizes that he must think she’s a total dork.

For this was the second time in the same day that she had made a fool of herself, right in front of him.

―

(That night, Hayley makes it home before Rebekah has the chance to make fun of her for today’s antics. Surely, her brother had told her all about both awkward incidents - and god knows that Rebekah loves to tease.

Hayley crawls into bed, hands covering her face.

She’s so glad that the day was over).

―

Later that week, he makes an appearance at Kol’s Birthday Bash.

In retrospect, Hayley knew he’d be there, it’s his brother’s birthday for god’s sake. She blames Freya for dragging her out. She blames the free booze and pizza. She blames the fact that she craves attention and Elijah will be there to shower her with his affection.

She blames the new dress she bought - the short black one that Klaus saw her eyeing that one day he went shopping with her and Rebekah.

“You look nice,” She hears someone whispers, as she turns around to face him

“Klaus,” She stammers. “Thanks,” she mumbles, looking him up and down. “So do you,” she admits noticing how the periwinkle of his tie against the darkness of his jet black suit complimented his eyes.

“This old thing?” he smirks, shrugging.

She’s quiet for a moment, looking around him to notice that he is alone. “So,” Hayley nervously starts again. “Just you, tonight?” she asks.

He shoves a hand in his pocket and frowns. “I’m afraid Caroline’s at home, sick with the flu,” he offers. “She’s been in bed all day,” he goes to say, with a sad tone in his voice.

Hayler bites her lip. She wasn’t used to being this close to him. “Sounds pretty bad,” she tells him instead, realizing that she could practically smell him.

“It is,” he nods. “I’m just making a short appearance here, giving my brother his present, then making my way back home to look after my lovely girl,” he smiles again, when he thinks of Caroline.

And then, Hayley notices that she can smell her scent on him as well.

Honeysuckle drops with a hint of dark chai.

“How sweet,” she mumbles. “I hope she gets better soon,” she offers, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“As do I, sweetheart,” he agrees, eyes scanning the room to spy his younger brother. “I’ll see you around, pleasure chatting with you,” he then says, as he’s off to find Kol.

“Same here,” Hayley whispers, but he’s already left her side by then.

―

That same evening, she notices that he’s making a late night trip to the convenience store nearby. Hayley’s on her way back from the party as she notices how Klaus buys a few packs of chocolates, some painkillers, and a box of tampons.

She feels a smidgen of jealousy as she notices how completely whipped this guy is for another woman.

Although, Hayley does a damn good job of hiding how she feels - so she forces herself to look away, and continued her walk back home.

―

Final exams and graduation pass by almost too quickly.

The next significant time she bumps into him isn’t until the end of the year actually. Which was good in a way, because it meant that she had done a fantastic job of avoiding him.

Despite the fact that she lived with his sister and that they went to the same school.

“Are you coming to our celebration party tonight?” He always shows up though, somehow, at the most unexpected of times. And this time, he was standing in front of her car as she was making her way to it.

Almost as if he had been waiting for her.

“I didn’t really plan on it, to be honest,” Hayley told him, while shoving her keys into her door.

“I’m surprised,” he releases softly, leaning a hand against her vehicle. “I thought my sisters dragged you along to all the Mikaelson events,” Klaus said, as her gaze finally met his.

He really had no idea what ‘personal space’ meant, she thought. “Yeah well,” Hayley shrugs. “I managed to convince them to give me a night off,” she offers him, trying to open her car door.

“It’s a shame,” Klaus sings, stepping out of the way so she can enter her SUV. “I was looking forward to seeing you,” he quips, in that charming little tone of his.

It makes her want to melt.

“Why is that?” Hayley asks.

“I just enjoy your company,” He answers her quickly, almost too-quickly.

After all, they had only spent a handful of moments together. She wonders how such little time with her was enough to intrigue him. Maybe, she really was clueless one around here.

“Klaus,” Caroline calls him, as she makes her way out of class to meet him at his car.

“Coming, darling,” he shouts at her. He turns to face Hayley one last time, wondering is his offer still stands. “Hayley, I hope you change your mind about tonight,” he says, before turning on his heel.

“Not likely,” she whispers, after he leaves,

―

(Her new set of expensive red lacy lingerie haunts her.

She had bought it as a graduation gift to herself - sick and tired of finding excuses to put off her purchase, she did this on a whim. Hayley curses herself for it. It’s not like she had anyone to wear it for anyway.

Or maybe she did - if she accepts the offer.

The brunette bites her bottom lip, stalling for time.

“Well,” she tells herself, slipping into it slowly, “might as well put this stuff to good use.” She sang, squeezing a tight dress over the set before heading out the door).

―

The Mikaelson graduation party is just as wild as any other event of theirs.

It must be damn nice to be part of a family of elites, Hayley thinks, as she ventures inside.

She does everything she’s supposed to do: drink a bit from the champagne fountain, play a few rounds of beer pong, get tangled up in a game of twister, smoke a joint with the girls hanging out in the balcony. She even makes her way to the pool, where Klaus and Caroline are making out like animals.

She feels like a pervert - but she can’t help but watch them.

They’re all tangled limbs and tongues sliding and licking trails up each other’s bodies - Caroline’s perfectly manicured nails tracing pale red lines down Klaus’ porcelain back, his teeth nibbling at her ear, her eyes…eyeing her?

“Hayley,” she says, mid-make-out. “Come,” she curls a finger at the other girl, and beckons her to join them.

(Hayley Marshall, in all her life, had experienced very few ‘wild sex things’ - as she liked to call them anyway. There was that time Tyler Lockwood spanked and choked her a bit during sex, back in high school. That time Stefan Salvatore had sex with her on a public beach, at night. And that time she gave Elijah a blowjob while he was driving her home from a late night out drinking with Rebekah (with the other girl passed out in the back seat, of course).

Still, a three some had never been part of the equation.

Until tonight).

She slowly steps into the pool, making her way towards the hot couple in front of her.

“I knew you’d make it, love,” Klaus whispers, smiling.

Hayley nods, shyly.

And just before they kiss, Caroline swoops in, stealing Hayley’s lips away from her boyfriend.

“We’re going to have so much fun with you,” the blonde sings, before moving aside so Klaus can finally have his turn with the girl.

Hayley feels his lips right after Caroline’s and they both taste sweet.

She lets herself be devoured - wishing that this night would never end.

―

#klayley #klaroline #klayroline #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #caroline forbes #hayroline #to #tvd #munea writes #fanfiction #drabbles

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Thirty-Six: An Issue You Care About ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

“How did you even come to care about all of this in the first place?”

Startled out of her thoughts as Sasuke’s question intrudes on the silence, Hinata blinks pale eyes a few times as her mind plays catch-up. “I...sorry, w-what?”

A single dark eye stares at her - somehow, he doesn’t look annoyed despite her fumbling. “The Uchiha. Why is this an issue you care about? Your clan wasn’t affected.”

...oh. “...no, but...we could have been.”

“You didn’t have ancestors that fought the Senju or tried to kill a Hokage.”

That earns a slight flinch. “...no, I...I don’t. Though...your and my bloodlines were the start of...well, all of this. The sons of the sage, and...all of that.” Hinata is still a bit unclear about history that far back, but she’s eager to learn. Hearing that the woman that nearly devoured their world sired her bloodline, well...made her curious.

“And...that’s n-not the point. The point is...that the council acted against an entire clan, w-without due process. It set a dangerous precedent. Would any other groups or clans that ever felt dissent be wiped out the same way? It was a horrible imbalance of power that had to be addressed and...and ensured to never be repeated.”

A dark brow perks. “...but you were already involved before all this. Itachi’s…” A pause, considering the right word. “...his, er...wife already knew you’d help keep the clans in line when we went to confront the council and reveal their actions. And she revived Neji. Are you two...friends?”

“...oh!” That earns a small laugh - had he really not heard? “Yes, she - she is. It, um...it started back during our first chūnin exams. She was the one that operated on me, and...saved my life. And took care of Lee-kun and I during our recoveries.”

“...I guess I remember her being there…”

“So, um...we just became friends after that. She’s very...mothering. I think she was worried about me like Kurenai-sensei was. But, um...when she found out she was with child, she...she asked me for help. And told me what she knew. A-about Itachi.”

“...she told you…?”

“She didn’t want to,” Hinata admits quietly. “...but it would have come out sooner or later, and...well, I was the closest person she had left, that she felt she could trust. And after, well...a-after you found out, there wasn’t as much point in hiding it. Especially since, if there was going to be any peace for you, and Itachi’s child - well, children as it turned out - then...it had to be addressed. And I just...wanted to help.”

“And then your whole clan got involved,” Sasuke can’t help but deadpan.

Hinata chuckles softly into a sleeve cuff. “Yes...I know that hasn’t been easy for you - any of you. But I promise, Hanabi is trying to temper them, and...herself. Neji-nīsan is helping, too. He, um...he has his own biases, but he’s better than he was. I think all of the changes in the clan are helping him change, too. And...it’s good we’re addressing our own issues, as well...”

“Yeah, I never understood the Hyūga branch system. Did anyone ever actually believe it was about protecting the Byakugan? That seal of yours? Because if it was...why didn’t the main branch get it, too? If anything, the ‘purer’ eyes should have been more adamantly protected, right?”

“They were,” Hinata murmurs, tone suddenly laced with something darker. “The branch clansmen were like cannon fodder...a main house clansmen was never supposed to fall, because we had dozens and dozens of branch house shinobi to d-defend us...whether they wanted to, or not.”

Sasuke can’t help but go quiet at that.

“...so, I’m glad we’re taking care of it,” she goes on. “Otōsama is working with my cousin to bring an end to new applications of the seal.”

“...is Neji ever going to get it back?”

“No. That was one of the medic’s conditions. She wouldn’t have attempted to revive him without knowing he wouldn’t ever be s-subjected to it again. Thankfully, otōsama agreed. After Neji gave his life to save mine...just like my uncle did for my father...he knew it had to stop. And it started with Neji, as it should have long a-ago.”

“...guess both our families have their problems.”

“Mhm...I suppose it c-comes with being in a big clan. I never hear Kiba-kun or Shino-kun complain about their clans or their policies, though.”

“Maybe ours just have flares for drama.”

In spite of herself, Hinata snorts...and then goes pink as Sasuke perks a brow at the sound. “S-sorry. That...that wasn’t funny. ‘Drama’ is a bit of an...understatement.”

“A bit, yeah.”

Silence falls between them.

“M...may I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Well, now that - now that Itachi-san is pardoned, and the council has been...replaced, what do you plan to do?”

“...do?”

“Are you going to stay in Konoha, Sasuke-kun?”

That prompts another silence, the Uchiha looking aside, clearly thoughtful. “...I am. If nothing else, then for my family. And...I had rather grandiose ideas of traveling the world and handling all of its problems on my own. But it’s been made more than clear that Konoha still has its share. So, I’ll stay...and try to rid it of a few.”

“Oh…?”

“Itachi has plans to rejoin the ANBU once he’s fully recovered. I...don’t know what I’ll do yet. But just because we rooted out some of the bad apples in the village doesn’t mean they’re all gone.” His gaze hardens slightly. “...and we haven’t exactly been welcomed back with open arms. There’s plenty of villagers who still distrust - if not hate - my brother and I. We’re going to have to work hard to bring the Uchiha name back into honor...and trust.”

A tinge of awe overcomes Hinata’s expression.

“...what about you?”

“M-me?”

“Yeah. You gave up being heiress, right?”

...oh. Her posture wilts a hair. “...I did. I realized that...I’m done chasing after other people’s expectations. I worked so hard for...my title. And Naruto-kun’s recognition. But in the end...I got neither. So, instead...I’ve decided to become strong for myself. And I’ll set my own goals.”

“Like what?”

“I...w-well, I...haven’t gotten that far yet. For now, I just...want to help my clan settle into their new system, and...keep working for Konoha. Beyond that...I guess I haven’t found a new long-term goal yet. I just...want to help people. Be of use. If being a shinobi until the end of my days is the right path, then I’ll walk it. If something else c-comes along, then...I’ll make a turn. But for now...I guess I’m fine where I am. I have time to...look around. See what I might want to do. When the right choice comes around...I’ll make it.”

That prompts another thoughtful look, this time in the form of a stare right at her. Hinata has to force herself not to fidget nervously.

“...I guess we’re both in the same boat, then. Wanting to help improve things, just...not sure how yet. But...we know what we care about. We know what issues need to be addressed. We just need a method.”

“And...we’ll find one. Soon.”

“...soon.”

Another day down, and another day very late - someday I'll manage to have a better schedule, eh heh. But for now, I suppose we'll just have to make due with me uploading at all wee hours of the morning, ahaha! This is just a theoretical conversation these two could have sometime after the Uchiha and Hyūga (and the rest of the clans, actually) come together in ALAS to expose the massacre, pardon Itachi, and oust the prior council for their crimes. But also before the pair of them become an item, Sasuke makes the new police force, and Hinata joins it. Also apologies for the heavy OC referencing in this one - I primarily base my SH plotting on a very long (unfinished) fic that includes a handful of original faces, based on many many RPs I've done over the years, ahaha. But it DOES help tie all of this together, I promise! Anywho, I'm bushed, so time to call it a night - thanks so much for reading!

#uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #sasuhina #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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mikrokosmus · 5 years

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hiii! I just wanted to pop in and say you are so amazing and supportive and seeing your comments always brightens my day ❤❤❤

Literally my reaction when I opened my inbox. K! What even, omg. This was so unexpected and so sweet, it literally made my freaking day. Oh gosh. Thank you so much for this lovely gesture, it truly means a lot to me. My heart is oh-so very happy right now. 💜 *sends you a huge virtual bear hug*

(Oh, also, you’re gonna get a lot more comments by the end of next week because as soon as I’m done with my exams, I’m gonna devour the rest of that christmas fic!!!)

#i’m VERY overwhelmed #this was SO LOVELY #sweet people being sweet #💜#bugggghead

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thegizka · 5 years

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I See You Reflected In The Moon (fic)

Chapter 2: Separated

Rukia had lived nearly all of her life with Renji by her side, but unexpected developments threaten to change everything.

Read it on Ao3.

A thin layer of snow blanketed all visible surfaces, the cold night temperature crystallizing it into a glittering coat of ice. All outside surfaces were slick, including the wooden walkways and porches of the Kuchiki estate. During such cold spells, the family used the inner hallways, keeping the exterior doors closed as much as possible so the warmth wouldn’t be swallowed by the winter chill.

Rukia was the coziest and most comfortable that she had ever been, but she missed the cold. She missed a lot of things, actually. Her adoption into the Kuchiki clan was the sort of unlikely miracle the Hanging Dog orphans had dreamed of, the whisper of which some of them would disappear to pursue and probably never achieve. She had been plucked from the lowest rungs of poverty and elevated to the highest of privilege. She had been delivered from obscurity and given a name, a family, an identity. It was the best of fairy tale endings, yet she felt incomplete.

She missed being surrounded by people. The Kuchiki estate was much quieter than any part of the Soul Society she had ever been in. Her self-made home in Hanging Dog had been messy and full of orphans. She had done her best to take care of them and protect them until they found a better future. She had tried to know each of them by name, whether they stayed for a few nights or the rest of their lives. She had even formed close friendships with some of them. She had grown to love a handful as her family. But she learned that the longer you stay in Hanging Dog, the more goodbyes you have to say. More and more orphans left to try surviving on their own, meaning there were less people to help find food and supplies. Day to day life was an endless stream of worries and struggles. Then waves of sickness swept through the district, and Rukia watched helplessly as it claimed her friends--her family--one by one. Soon it was only her and Renji, worn down by the toil and sorrow, tired of goodbyes. There had been nothing left for them in Hanging Dog, so they enrolled in the Soul Reaper academy.

She was glad Renji was still with her. Or he had been. She missed him now. They had mourned together, had learned to move on together, had fought for this future together. They had stuck together in the academy, aware that their tougher background could put them at a social and intellectual disadvantage. But their experiences also gave them the advantage of exposure to fighting and survival and death. They were quick to learn and adapt, and they eventually let their guards down enough to make friends. Together they were healing and redefining their futures.

Rukia couldn’t help smiling to herself as she remembered all of the things they had learned, like how to sleep on a comfortable mattress, and what the moon really was. She could still remember how smug Renji had looked when he had explained it was nothing more than a giant rock in the sky pulled through space by the earth’s gravity. He had been fascinated by the science of it all and devoured any information he could find about it. She had known he was diligent and smart, but their entry into the academy had allowed him to really capitalize on those skills. If only that could help him with his kido.

She had been scared at first when they were given separate rooms in the academy dorms. She wasn’t used to sleeping in her own space alone. She knew Renji was only down the hallway but her first nights in the dorms had not been particularly restful. On the third night, tired of how quiet everything was and not yet used to the comfort of the bed, she had snuck out and climbed to the roof, hoping to find some peace in the open air.

To her surprise, a familiar redhead and beat her to it.

“What are you doing here?”

Surprise flashed through Renji’s eyes, but they softened in recognition and welcome.

“I should’ve known you’d be along eventually to disturb my peace and quiet.”

“It’s the quiet that drove me out here,” she explained, climbing over the roof to settle beside him, close enough for their shoulders to brush comfortably. “Everything is too calm here.”

He hummed in agreement. Silence floated between them, the heavy silence of two minds preoccupied with the same thoughts but not particularly eager to share them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. Over the years they had shared numerous moonlight chats when they had difficulty sleeping. Their talks ranged from silly to serious depending on what they sensed each other needed in the moment. They had been sources of comfort and relief to each other as they navigated the challenges of life in Hanging Dog. They had perhaps even come to rely on these moments as their friends and family exited their lives. Now confronting the novelty of the Soul Reaper academy, it was comforting to find themselves still sharing in such a familiar experience.

“Well,” Renji sighed after a while, “we made it.”

“We did, though in your case, just barely.”

“I’m sorry we can’t all have raw talent like you.”

“I’m not sure that’ll be such an advantage now that we’re actually at a school with specific lessons and assignments and tests and things. You’ll have to teach me how to properly study.”

“I know as much about school as you do. What makes you think I know how to study?”

“Well you’re always thinking about things and learning stuff.”

“That’s much different than being told what to think about and learn.”

“They’re going to teach us to be Soul Reapers, right? Which means fighting and working in a squad to protect and take care of people. I know for a fact you have a lot of experience with that.”

“Yeah, I had to figure all of that out as we went along,” he reflected queity. “Maybe if I’d had someone to teach me, I could’ve taken better care of everyone.”

Rukia’s chest tightened. They had mourned the loss of their friends, and the ruthlessness of life in Hanging Dog had hardened them to some of the pain, but here was still an emptiness. Sometimes she got so angry at the injustice that they two had survived such hardships and the others in their family had not.

“We did the best that we could,” she murmured, laying her head on his shoulder to both provide and seek comfort.

“A better future,” he quoted with a sigh, dropping his head to rest on hers. “It doesn’t really feel that much better right now.”

“Well, we don’t have to scavenge for food. We have a warm and reliable place to sleep. We are earning enough money to live on. We have a purpose. And we still have each other.” She smiled up at the waning moon. “It’s not a perfect future, but it is one step closer, one bit better.”

Renji remained silent as his thoughts wandered. She took the time to admire the stars--burning balls of gas, apparently, but still magical to her. Nights of sitting awake outside had helped her map those glowing pinpoints in an effort to arrange her flickering thoughts. But the clarity of the stars were easily hidden by clouds. The moon, however, was harder to dim. Her eyes were always drawn back to it. Though it waxed and waned, she knew it was always there, always held a place in the sky, and always came back. It was familiar like an old friend. Like Renji.

“I do hope the next ‘better future’ has beds that I can actually sleep in.”

She giggled, and she felt a slight rumble travel through him to her as he also chuckled. They spoke about this and that for a while, enjoying the mild weather and each others’ company, before turning in for the night.

Just as they had in Hanging Dog, they often found themselves chatting in the moonlight as they adjusted to this new life. School hadn’t been as shocking as they had expected. Rukia excelled in reishi control, Renji walloped people in combat, and both did well in their conventional studies. As they grew more comfortable and felt deserving of their places in the academy, they made friends. They grew to enjoy this new life.

And then everything was disrupted by one unexpected question. No, it hadn’t been a question. It was an order.

We would like to adopt you into the Kuchiki family.

There was no appropriate answer other than ‘yes’. The noble clans never adopted--at least not the main branches--so it was unheard of that anyone would decline. Besides, it was the ideal dream of any orphan, to be welcomed into all of the comfort and status of the highborn class. It was the type of fairy tale twist people would die for.

But initially she had wanted to decline. It was too good to be true. And it made no sense. Why her? It couldn’t have been due to her record in the academy. True, she excelled in kido and had been complimented on the precision of her swordplay, but Momo Hinamori had better reishi control, and Renji nearly always bested her in sparring matches. She was in the upper tier of their class but recognizably shy of the top.

Was it a secret family tie, then? If so, why hadn’t they found her sooner? She had struggled alone for so long without any knowledge of her blood family beyond vague memories of stories and feelings. Renji had at least begun life in the Soul Society with an uncle, giving him the surname Abarai before he died and left his nephew to scrape together an existence with the other Hanging Dog orphans.

Rukia didn’t know if she had ever had a last name. It was something she wondered about during her moonlight contemplations. The fact that she had next to nothing to tether her to an identity was secretly distressing. She felt incomplete and unanchored. Her friendships in Hanging Dog helped to alleviate some of that aching uncertainty, but it remained in the back of her mind. It had never been a serious problem, though, until they were filling out registration forms before the academy entrance exams.

At the end of a long day of studying, training, and doing odd jobs for the few residents of Hanging Dog who could pay someone else for labor, she and Renji were staying up deep into the night to continue preparing for the academy. They used others’ discarded candle stubs for light as they filled out forms for legal documents and registration. The moon had risen well above the horizon when Rukia sat back, frowning at a blank space on the paper in front of her.

“What is it?” Renji asked, eyes still fixed to the book he was hunched over. They had spent so much time together, they could sense the other’s mood changes by proximity.

“I don’t have a last name.”

He glanced at her. “Yeah, so?”

She handed him the paper, tapping to indicate the trouble spot. He studied it for a second before handing it back with a shrug.

“Just leave it blank.”

“It has one of those ‘required’ marks by it. I can’t just leave it blank!”

“But you don’t have a last name.”

“Exactly! I need one, but I don’t have one!”

His eyes roamed her frustrated face for a second before he turned back to his studies. “Just make one up then.”

Rukia wanted to punch him in that moment. Make something up??? A name carried a person’s identity. She couldn’t just make one up! Didn’t he understand the significance of a last name? It tied people together, made them belong to each other, formalized a bond between them. She could feel the desperate desire for that type of connection building inside her, combining with her fatigue and worry over the academy application until it resembled a desperate need she frantically desired to appease. She couldn’t arbitrarily decide on a fake name, not if it was going on her official application! She knew it would follow her for her entire career as a Soul Reaper and only serve as a constant reminder that she came from nowhere and was tied to no one.

Her frustration was palpable enough to disturb Renji’s studies. He sat back and let out an exasperated breath, staring through their open door at the moon suspended above the ramshackle roofs of Hanging Dog. His eyebrows were drawn together, a sure sign that he was thinking seriously about something, and for some reason, it only deepend Rukia’s sense of frustration. He seemed much too calm to be taking her concerns seriously.

“If it’s that big of a deal to you, then just use my last name.”

“Huh?” She was taken aback for a moment. What was he saying? What was he implying?

“Look, we’re family, right?” He turned to look at her, and she saw that he was as serious as he was when they were calculating how to get enough food to feed everyone for the day. There was no jest or ulterior motive, only calm honesty. “We’ve promised each other we’re in this together. Might as well make it official and share the same name.”

“You want to get married?” she screeched.

“What? No! No!” He drew back from her, confusion and surprise and embarrassment coloring his cheeks red. “I just meant you can use my last name! Like brother and sister! Get marr-- What the heck Rukia?! No!”

She was laughing now, all of the previous frustration released in silly joy as she watched her best friend getting flustered. She had figured he didn’t mean that--after all, they were incredibly young for that type of commitment, and while she loved him, she was pretty sure it wasn’t that sort of love--but he had left the opportunity open, and she always took the chance to tease him. He could be such a dork, and she loved when she caught him off guard like this.

By the time she caught her breath and calmed her chuckling, Renji had returned to staring hard at his study material, though his eyes remained frozenly fixed on a single spot and pink skin still hinted at a blush along his cheekbones. She just stared at him for a while, happy to have him in her life and thrilled that he would give her the gift of his name. She was important enough to him that he was willing to formalize their bond by tying them together with his name.

So she had become an Abarai at the academy. Of course some of their classmates had been confused and thought they were married. Rukia always loved those moments because Renji would turn bright red and she would get to laugh and explain how they weren’t, nor were they technically related, but they had chosen to be family to each other so she had registered under his name. It was easy to explain as a casual formality, but having been given a last name eased some of the ache at having an unknown past and unclear identity.

Yet the Kuchikis decided to take that away from her. In its place they offered a name with more prestige and greater lineage, but it felt wrong. She and Renji had shared the same circumstances and overcome the same obstacles together. She wasn’t a noblewoman. She didn’t fit the name ‘Kuchiki’, and the name didn’t fit her. By accepting, she knew she would simply be inhabiting a role, pretending to be a sister to a man she didn’t know and a daughter to parents she would never meet. They would be family in name only. Perhaps she would grow to think of them as hers as they evidently intended to think of her as theirs, but she and Renji had already lived for years as a family, as each other’s siblings. Why should she give that up for this unearned legacy? She had survived by her own volition for so long, she would much rather continue as she had with her best friend.

But as soon as they had made their proposition, she knew that was no longer an option, and Renji’s unexpected visit only served to drive that point home. She watched with internal horror as the excitement on his face changed to surprise, confusion, and wariness. She watched as her new “brother” looked down his nose at her chosen brother and dismissed him without a second glance. And she realized what she had been most worried about when they first approached her--that becoming a Kuchiki meant giving up everything that was being an Abarai.

But she couldn’t say no, and she saw in Renji’s eyes that he had already accepted she would say yes. He congratulated her, bubbling over with the joy and excitement that she couldn’t summon for herself. It broke her heart, but he was saying that he was happy for her and that she should embrace this new future--this better future, the sort of future their friends had died dreaming about. He was letting her go. He was saying goodbye.

“Thank you,” she told him, brushing past him so he wouldn’t see her tears. There was so much more she wanted to say to this boy who had been by her side and believed in her and had been everything she had needed. But she couldn’t tell him, couldn’t say all of the things she had thought they would have time to say because she had never expected to say goodbye to Renji. They were meant to build a better future together. They had promised each other they would never leave. But she had to walk past him and through the door into life as a Kuchiki. She was an Abarai no more.

Rukia pulled the thick, warm comforter tighter around herself. She had adjusted to the comfort of mattresses, but her new home was still too quiet. She would stay up late at night with her thoughts and gaze at the moon, seeking answers in its mottled surface. Despite tonight’s cold, she had slipped outside to sit on the porch, dragging her blanket with her for warmth and a semblance of comfort.

Life in Hanging Dog had been crowded and lively. There had always been things to do, schemes to cook up, and pranks to play. Here, the servants did everything, ghosting through the estate and accomplishing their duties out of sight so that Rukia felt as though she were alone most of the day, even though she knew there was always someone within earshot. The few times she had run into the staff, she couldn’t help noticing them giving her a strange look, one that shifted from familiarity to shock to careful and distant deference.In another life, she could have been one of them. Being a servant to one of the noble clans was an enviable life for an orphan. She wondered what they must think of her, suddenly elevated to a member of the family and their superior. She didn’t blame them for keeping their distance.

She had thought she would see more of her new family, though. To her, being a family meant sharing their lives and being close to each other, like she had with the Hanging Dog orphans. She rarely saw her Kuchiki relatives. Byakuya would usually join her for dinner, but a few days each week his Soul Reaper duties kept him working until late. She was expected to give him a report every evening on the progression of her studies--she had private tutors covering academy lessons and the expectations of the nobility--but he only ever desired the facts. He rarely commented on her progress, and never offered praise. Like her teachers, he was distant, but at least he was somewhat willing to interact with her. After an initial introduction and polite visits to other members of the Kuchiki clan, Rukia had been all but ignored by her new relatives.

She missed Renji especially in these long moments alone when she couldn’t sleep. The formality and rigidity of this new life were isolating, and she longed for his liveliness and sincerity. Since leaving the academy for her private lessons, she hadn’t been able to keep up on the progress of her friends. She was being streamlined to graduate early and practically guaranteed a ranked seat in one of the Court Guard Squads. She didn’t know when she would have the chance to see anyone again. Would they all graduate? Would Renji’s issues with kido hold him back? Would he have classmates watching his back during their lessons in the field? He had found a few friends to hang out and study with, and hopefully they would survive the trials of the academy together.

But they were out of reach for her now, as far away as the moon. She didn’t feel like she had anyone watching her back anymore. That was something she had given up when she gave up being an Abarai. She was learning that being a Kuchiki meant maintaining a distance from everyone else under the guise of pride and reserve. It was the opposite of Hanging Dog where they had shared everything. She missed the warmth she used to feel at the word “family”. The only thing she had left of her previous life was the moon, the constant companion of her inner thoughts. Tonight, it had never seemed so far away.

#gizka #my words #renruki #bleach #kuchiki rukia #abarai renji #soul reapers #soul reaper academy #it's a bit repetitive but I've been sitting on this for a while and just wanted to get it out there

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onceabluemoonwrites · 7 years

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Mana Amare (The Church Bell Rang)

Fandom: Black Clover

Summary: When the Church bell rang, the sound echoed across the country.

When the Church bell rang, the people knew.

When the Church bell rang, the people rejoiced, for their emperor had returned to them.

When it rang twice, they paled.

The second reincarnation.

Who else could it be, then the demon?

Disclaimer: I don’t own Black Clover.

FF.net | AO3

Edit: I’ve gotten some questions about this fic, so I made a post: What Inspired Mana Amare (The Church Bell Rang)

For those who watch the anime: This is entirely the same, the only difference being that Wizard King = Sorcery Emperor.

When the Church bell rang, the sound echoed across the country.

When the Church bell rang, the people knew.

When the Church bell rang, the people rejoiced, for their emperor had returned to them.

When it rang twice, they paled.

The second reincarnation.

Who else could it be, then the demon?

And as the people fretted the Sorcery Emperor and the demon had reincarnated, the children were rounded up.

‘’We cannot kill them,’’ whispered the court. ‘’The Emperor is among them!’’

‘’But so is the Demon!’’ the others said back.

And they fretted all day, all year, all decade, while the children born on that fateful day grew up in court.

At least, alll children born on that day, except for two foundlings, in the outskirts of the land. Where grassy plains stretched as far the eye could see and the people were clothed in bare threads, that was where they were found.

Two children, babies, crying out.

Taken in by the Father of the church.

Two little boys, cribs next to each other, reaching out, as if to hold each other close.

Their blood sang, you belong with me, you belong with me! And just like that, Asta and Yuno grow up, legs, hands and hearts entangled. Won’t you love me? Darling, that’s a soul- Dark and light are opposites that can only exist when they are separated.

‘’He walks in the shadow, Springs in the day, Follows the sun, Forks the hay, And if the hay is set ablaze, The night will fall Oh, in the night! A shadow of light. The peasant boy Freed from his cage, Dances alight In demon haze! Defend thy village, oh sorcerer! Protect, safeguard, Mana amare.’’

Children’s voices, sopranos of youth, die away against the church beams. The young woman leading them claps in her hands. ‘’Now, children, you must know who this hymn is dedicated to!’’

Yuno looks up from his Bible, peeking through a crown of dark hair. ‘’The Sorcery Emperor.’’

‘’Really, sister? Really?!’’ With stars in black hole eyes, Asta scrambles forward. ‘’I didn’t know he was one of us! Ha! See, Yuno! I can become the Sorcery Emperor!’’

Sister Lily’s smile wilts. ‘’Asta, that’s a lovely thing to say, but… That isn’t what this is about.’’

‘’Sister, sister! But we sang it ourselves! He forks the hay, he’s a peasant boy!’’

The Sister shakes her head. ‘’The Peasant boy/freed from his cage/dances alight/in demon haze. The first two parts tell of the outer ring of Clover Kingdom rebelling against the inner circles. They could never defeat them on their own, so they made a deal with the devil.’’

With wide eyes, the children listen.

‘’We danced with the devil, but couldn’t pay the price, so the demon turned on us, and ate us alive. The whole Kingdom lived in fear, but out of the midst of the people, a sorcerer stood up. With the power of mana and the blessing of God almighty, he defeated the fiend of hell. The skull of the beast is still residing here, with a statue of our saviour on top of it so we may remember him forever.’’

Asta cheers, throwing his arms around Yuno’s neck from behind. ‘’The Emperor!’’

‘’Please don’t make light of it, Asta,’’ Lily’s voice breaks like glass. ‘’God’s wrath was horrible- he cursed us, so that all our descendants may be of lesser mana than those who did not stray from the Heavens.’’

The silence is a heavy burden.

As always, Asta breaks it. ‘’That doesn’t sound right!’’

Sister’s answering smile is wobbly.

Yuno no longer cries. It worries Lily, though a fire was lit in his soul on that night he came back with Asta on his shoulder, nearly dead.

There is a fire, not blazing like Asta’s inferno energy, but glowing, ever so softly, embers shining through silken skin.

There is something beautiful about the boy, something fey, with his pitch-black hair and amber eyes, and the way his expressive face has turned to stone. Petrified, are all those who behold him.

All, except for his counterpart. Asta is a hellion, blonde head popping up wherever trouble goes- or perhaps trouble follows wherever the boy appears. It wouldn’t surprise Lily in the least.

They… They’re a sight to see, the two of them. Black to white, peach to brown, slender limbs to muscle, mana, no mana.

Where will they go, once the church bell rings?

‘’Ha,’’ says Father, once they’re gone. ‘’Asta will be back soon! Magic Knight’s entrance exam without magic? He’ll always have a home here!’’

Sister pats him on the back. ‘’Of course, Father.’’

But still, she wonders.

What about their rivalry? Yuno has always seen things Lily cannot.

What attracts his gaze to Asta’s heart?

In a sea of untruths, there are three absolute certainties in Yuno’s life.

First, Yuno will be the Sorcery Emperor. Second, Asta will be the Sorcery Emperor. Third, this does not conflict each other, and when the church bell rings, all will know.

There is a fourth truth, but it is so obvious Yuno had never thought he would have to utter it out loud. But then again, the populace tends to disappoint.

He slams down the reptile curse with a wind hawk.

The sore loser- the petty luck thief- tries to excuse himself, and implies he can compete with Asta.

And that, that Yuno cannot forgive.

‘’You’re nowhere near good enough for Asta.’’ Shadows rising, cast by the flames flickering in his heart.

Luck, the fourth leaf, is his domain, and so is Asta.

‘’Get lost,’’ he hisses.

This is what Yuno does: he protects, safeguards Asta’s back.

‘’This is your room, mine is-‘’

Asta gasps. ‘’I’m so happy! I’ve never had my own room before! There were six of us to a room back home!’’

Three beds only. Six children. Two a bed, unless the young ones had nightmares.

He tosses around. The room is squeaky clean, the bedding not worse than the one at home, but still he can’t sleep. No breathing, no snoring, no Hollo kicking in his sleep, not even Nash’ gnashing teeth.

Strange, how he didn’t notice before.

Perhaps, it is because, for the first time in his life, Asta falls asleep without Yuno.

It hurts.

Sometimes, Yuno dreams of curling around Asta in a way a human body cannot. Of being one, in the way no other can. Of this divine power, that is his.

He caresses the four-leaf clover on the grimoire’s cover. It has given him back what he had lost- good faith was in his hands, hope in his eyes, love in his heart. Luck? Luck lives in his third eye.

Oh, in the night, a shadow of light, and Yuno knows where it came from.

They meet again, words and souls mirroring each other- Yuno the empty space around Asta, Asta the black hole inside of Yuno. “We’re teammates!“ They scream in unison.

Being one means breathing, how can their companions misunderstand that? When your heartbeats synchronize, when your hand glides into one another’s, when you want to press closer than skin, to devour whole just to be- except that is not teammates, isn’t it?

Not just family?

…It doesn’t matter. Not yet.

Their counterattack begins.

Asta is held up, blood pouring from his stomach, and Yuno breaks free from the crystal.

Earlier, Lotus had used an attack called ‘’Smoke form: Fallen King’s Cell,’’ and Yuno wanted to cackle, completely out of his mind, because that was not what imprisoned him.

Perhaps it is this human body, too slow to rescue his other half. Perhaps it was his intangibility, in the time before he can remember.

Perhaps, it is this same desperation that awakens his light, makes it shine through all three (four) eyes, and frees the Wind Sylph.

The peasant boy, freed from his cage, dances alight in demon haze.

‘’I’m not going to die before I become Emperor!’’ For a man half dead an hour ago, Asta looks pretty good. His eyes are shining like small suns caught in the universe that Yuno calls home.

‘’Yeah, you’ll be alive to see me crowned as emperor!’’

‘’Handsome jerk!’’

They grin over the dumb joke.

Back then, before he inhabited this body, Yuno’s world was a web of sparkling colour, atoms moving in plain sight, spirits in front of his eyes, the layers of the world.

It is no wonder so little phases him now- living in a singular layer is so drab. With his third eye, though, he catches glimpses of the world as it is.

He can’t help but smile at the gaping hole around Asta. That’s his place- That’s his form. The hole his soul left when he was ripped away.

This is the truth: once upon a time, human beings were perfect. But God feared they would gain too much power, and separated them, one by one, until only a single whole person was left.

They called him the Sorcery Emperor and gasped at the power he wielded.

This is the truth: Grimoires are pale shadows of a connection humanity yearns for.

This is the truth: Yuno is magic, born in human form, the embodiment of mana.

The four-leaf clover was not given to him- Yuno is the four-leaf-clover. Four eyes, four minds, good faith, hope, love and luck.

And Asta? Asta is the blade-wielder, the swordsman.

God separated perfect beings, and Asta and Yuno were such thing once.

One. The Same. Magic and man. Entangled forever.

They might not be the Sorcery Emperor anymore, but they will be again. They will free those who were born on their name day. They will free everyone, will make them proud. They will speak the truth, even if they cannot kill the untruth, but know they will, because they’re not done yet. Not just yet.

There is no demon, they want to scream. No demon, except for the one that resides in humanities soul.

And now? Now they each count five eyes- the hole where the other used to be, included. In the fifth, that human demon resides.

Don’t you taint him with your measly power- Asta is Yuno’s (Yuno is Asta’s). And when the church bell will ring, they’ll be whole again.

Mana amare

Mana, to love.

#black clover #asta #yuno #yunoasu #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #my posts #sister lily #nash #father (black clover)#hollo #sorcery emperor #hell lotus #zeke (black clover)#mana amare #OnceABlueMoonWrites fic

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