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#i tolerate and love my friends dogs that they allow to bite them so the dogs think its ok to bite me. but i do not like them
walnutart · 1 year
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😺 for veronica sawyer and the heathers
Absolutely!
prompt:😺 An animal related headcanon
Veronica:
Veronica LOVES animals.
She has a tabby cat named JFK.
JFK only likes Veronica.
He will hiss and bite at her parents if they try to get close to him.
JFK HATES Heather Chandler
She also likes insects. She continuously begs her parents to let her get a pet tarantula. Her mother absolutely refuses.
When Veronica was younger, she would collect spiders, beetles, and praying mantis in jars and plastic terrariums.
She would draw them and give them names.
Heather Chandler:
Chandler and JFK are Mortal Enemies.
Chandler doesn't appreciate when Veronica pays attention to JFK instead of her when they hang out.
She will passive-aggressively sigh and drape herself across Veronica's bed.
Veronica always tells her that it's completely unreasonable for her to be jealous of a cat
Heather insists that Veronica loves JFK more than her (notably something her girlfriend never actually denies)
Other than JFK, Chandler is not fond of animals. At All.
She thinks they're dirty and loud
However, she is definitely more of a cat person
Dogs are too happy and peppy for her taste
She appreciates and relates to the cold aloofness that cats exude.
If she did ever have a cat, she would probably have a white maine coon.
That cat would be the meanest fucking animal alive
It would be a female, and it would have a red bow collar/a red leather bell collar
Something extra like that
Its name would be something strange and kind of outlandish. Yet like still feminine.
Like Lilith or Opal. Maybe even Lucifer/Satan lmao
I imagine Heather Chandler would be like actually an awful pet owner though so the chances of her actually getting a cat are slim to none.
Heather Duke:
Heather has a snake. I don't have proof, but I can feel it in my
bones.
She has either a smooth green snake or a rainbow boa (look them up they're pretty neat)
Its name would be something like Medusa
Heather McNamara gets/makes little hats for her snake.
Duke reluctantly allows this simply to humor her girlfriend
So far, the snake has a top hat, a cowboy hat, and a little pinwheel hat.
Duke finds this incredibly asinine.
She definitely also has a black cat or a black teacup poodle maybe both
idk I just get a vibe she seems like a small dog person
Also more of a cat person
If she does have a black cat its name would probably be something like Ophelia or something fancy and sophisticated like that. (probably named after a classical literature
Heather McNamara:
Heather Mac also loves animals a lot, however she's more traditional with the animals she likes
She has a golden retriever and a golden doodle
The retriever is named Butterscotch
the golden doodle is named Curly
JFK mildly tolerates Mac (this is a point of great pride for her).
Her dogs are highly trained. They can shake, play dead, speak, also that fancy stuff
Her dogs have A LOT of clothing
Sweaters, tutus, vests, harnesses, ties, bowties, hats, you name it they have it
They usually wear a bandana or a custom collar though.
The dogs love Duke, much to the girl's chagrin
They demand she play fetch, rub her belly, anything
She half-heartedly complies after she sees how happy it makes Mac
Secretly Duke loves Mac's dogs
Mainly because Butterscotch and Curly remind her of her girl friend
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yelyahnaloj · 11 months
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Childhood Senses
[Because why not? I think many of us are taught to ignore your senses when you grow up]
Taste (and texture): It took a while for me to get used to oranges. It was not sweet enough and too sour. I never liked peas. I think it was the sweet chlorophyll taste, but mostly it was the texture, how it is a little ball with a thin skin around it (I didn’t like the texture of it “popping”). Similarly, it took a while for me to get used to tomatoes (I liked ketchup and sauces though). I would also eat the “skin” and the grape insides separately by peeling off the outside. Of course, I liked salt and sugar and carbs and cheese, but almost obsessively? Like for salt I would put pinches of salt into water, and I would eat the peanut shells, and like the insides of the pistachio shells, and taste play doh, and yes, I was a booger eater. With sugar, I wasn’t really allowed sugar much as a kid, but there was a brief period when I would steal straight up handfuls of sugar straight from the bag. I didn’t like pickles. For some reason, eggs made me gag. I wasn’t a fan of scrambled eggs, but I liked them over easy or hard boiled with the yolk being the best part. I didn’t like pepper or mustard. I liked soda, but I wasn’t allowed to drink it often so the carbonation was intense for me so I would take sips of it and allow it to mellow out. I was fine with most other foods, though. I liked seafood, and almost any sort of ethnic food. I didn’t like broccoli or cauliflower, texture wise. Loved carrots and almost any fruits besides citrus. I loved bread, and I would ball it up and eat it like an apple. I liked crunching on ice.
Smell: I never had a strong sense of smell, so I am not sure what to comment on it. I didn’t mind animal smell. I wasn’t a fan of flower or perfume smells. So even some candle scents or shampoos. Mostly it was just a dislike or indifference, but perfumes can be overpowering. 
Touch: I already went on about my sense of touch in the last post. I liked finger paints and playing in mud and eating food with my hands. I don’t think I liked using tools in general, I preferred direct experience to learn things. I like grass and dirt and sand. I like walking barefoot. I like peeling the bark off sticks or taking a little stick and rubbing the dirt off rocks or peeling leaves apart, etc. I liked rubber toys and bean bags and play doh. I didn’t like the feeling of sap, and I would rub my hands in the dirt to get rid of the texture. Similarly, sticky feeling of fruit juice or similar things. I liked running my hands through water, and sometimes it would distract me from doing the dishes. I was almost addicted to hugs, and sometimes wouldn’t let my friends go ( I was pretty clingy). Touch was a big part of my interactions with people, which changed when I was discouraged from that around when puberty started. I liked bed sharing, cuddling, sitting on laps, giving kisses, hand holding, picking people up, teasing. Like I didn’t even mind when people hit me across the head, because it felt good in a weird way, and I would just laugh. For some reason I would go up to one of my siblings and bite their shoulder, or I would gently bite my pets (like the dog or the ferret) (Like that was even up into my teen years). One thing with showers, the drops would startle me, which was another reason I didn’t like them. I felt the need to have things even. Like if one hand got wet, I would rub it on the other hand to make them both wet. I had a bad habit of touching and rubbing my face. I still do. I used to be a thumb sucker past 5 years old. I for some reason didn’t know that zipped up jackets (hoodies and stuff) were supposed to be a layer over another shirt and I hated the coldness of the zipper or that the zipper would pinch me as I tried zipping it up. My mom had me try on all my clothes to make sure I could tolerate the feel of them before buying, so I didn’t really have a problem of having too many uncomfortable clothes, or when I did get clothes where I mostly liked the look but the feel was uncomfortable it would mostly stay at the bottom of my draw or worn every once in a while. I didn’t really like tight clothes, or shirts that were too short or pants that were too low. So I was very much a baggy clothes, long shirts, high rise pants sort of person. I guess I wasn’t much of a fan of jeans. I did wear skirts or cargo pants or corduroys. 
Hearing: I got startled by loud noises easily. Like fireworks. Or vacuum cleaners. Or flushing the toilet. Or starting the shower. It became a muscle habit to cover my ears when I heard white noise like running water or some electronics like vacuum cleaners. But I did like loud music, and listening to music on repeat. I never really liked high pitch noises, including some people’s voices. I’m a habitual eavesdropper, always was. I like rock music. Applause was too loud or too many kids yelling and playing.
Sight: In some ways I wasn’t sensitive. Like I could stare directly at the sun or into flashlights (even though you aren’t supposed to do that). Though shopping mall lights seemed to “drain my energy”. And I wasn’t really a fan of sunny days. Like I still squint a lot. I liked colors and patterns. Like tie dye and animal prints and camouflage and spots and stripes (though, those were the more boring patterns) and plaid and paisley and splatters and basically the more complex or organic the better.  I especially found the color aqua to be soothing, like in the tiles at stores. I used to do this thing, I think even into adulthood, where I would only step on tiles of certain colors, which made it hard going down some aisles and I had to jump to get to the next one. I loved the color green, especially in nature. I had a phase of really liking the boldness of hot pink. I used to get transfixed by the act of handwriting, watching the pencil create shapes on paper, which made it take a long time to do homework. I liked texture. Like even dust or little splatters of stuff on things. I found it interesting. I think I had an intense stare at people, whether random people or the person I was talking to or just watching people intently, which I think people found intimidating sometimes. I had a hard time reading, especially paragraphs. I liked picture books even past the age I was supposed to be reading chapter books. I liked sorting or looking through “information”. Like sorting letters by geographic location. I liked seeing things from different perspectives, like imagining if people could walk on the ceiling. Or watching insects and imagining the world from their size.
Proprioception: I loved to climb on everything before I even knew how to walk. I liked climbing any tree with branches low and strong enough to hold me. I could climb fences. I sit most comfortably with my legs tucked under me, it’s uncomfortable to sit normally. Probably goes back to the hug thing, I liked being squished. I would bang my head on things when I was bored (I think the bounce of the headrest of a seat in the car, for example.) I was very uncoordinated though. It took a while for me to learn jump rope or how to catch a ball. I had virtually no sense of personal space. I think I was a bit rough with animals. I would clench my jaw and my muscles a lot, especially when I was excited (in pictures you can see my neck muscles tense while smiling). I would do this thing when I stand where I would balance on the outer sides of my feet. I would bend my limbs and my fingers absentmindedly. I had to have a place to put my arms because just having them at my sides didn’t feel right. I liked crawling, like crawling under bushes in the woods. Or crawling into small spaces like cupboards. I was never really good at running or very fast, so I was bad at tag and could rarely catch people. I could only tie my shoes the “bunny ears” way, to this day I have never learned the other way despite being shown a lot of times. I had a hard time with the monkey bars. It hurt my skin and my hands didn’t have a good grip, and it was hard to get the right swing and grasp to get from bar to bar. Sometimes instead I would climb and crawl on them or hang from them and go across that way (which took whole body muscles rather than just my arm/hands). I liked walking on uneven surfaces, like in the woods or I would walk on the grass next to the sidewalk. I liked using different ways to walk, even up until adulthood: like skipping or running short bursts. Walking backwards, like I had walked a whole forest trail to a waterfall there and back while walking backwards. Skipping backwards (I used to do that in school halls, only ran into someone once). I liked sitting in different ways, like with the chair backwards or with me upside down (my legs on the seat and my head on the floor) or other variations. 
Interoception: I know I often ignored bodily signals. Like I had accidents until my preteens. Sometimes I just didn’t feel them. But I remember being hungry all the time as a preteen/teen. 
Vestibular: I loved loved loved spinning. There was barely an upper limit to spinning because I would rarely get sick. Basically, say if I was on a tire swing, not so fast that I would fly off, so as fast as my grip was strong. I loved the swings. I liked roller skating and riding bikes. I liked spinning on chairs and spinning on my own. I liked the gentle rock of car rides turning corners, and on hilly roads my dad and I would pretend it was a roller coaster. 
Temperature: !!!! I hated the heat. I would sweat so easily. I hated summers. I don’t think I was a fan of the cold, either. I think there were only narrow windows in the fall or spring where the moderate temperatures were actually livable. I preferred overcast days. Maybe light rain, but not too much or too cold. Maybe some sun, but mild sun. Like in the early day or evening, or when it is just starting to get sunny after a long stretch of cloud (I was raised in the PNW). I did of course like hot showers, but not luke warm or cold (its both just “cold” to me). Like they have to be almost scalding. I did like hot water and drinks. I liked chewing on ice. 
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rat-nest · 3 years
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Me 4 years ago: hmm yeah I dont really like dogs, but my partner wants a dog so I'll research them
Me now: what if I get up at 5 am and take up endurance running for my dogs
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drabbles-mc · 3 years
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Exceptions (1/2)
Juice Ortiz x F!Reader
Part 2
Warnings: language, mentions of smoking/alcohol
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Been mulling over this little two-part fic for a while. Love me some Juice content haha. This part is all fluff, part 2 is a nice balance of angst and fluff. Hope you enjoy! xo
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You’d worked at the bar for a few months, and everyone was kind to you. But you hadn’t really become overly close with anyone. You knew how easily friendship could be construed into something else and you really were here because it was a good paying gig. You were a friend of a friend to the club so when they needed a bartender and you met the qualifications, they didn’t give it much of a second thought to throw you back there. You didn’t start trouble, didn’t ask too many questions, and made good strong drinks. They couldn’t have asked for anything more.
At the heart of it, it was nothing more than a customer service gig. Sure, most everyone you served was part of the MC or a friend of the club, but you didn’t treat them any differently because of it. The same as you had done at your previous gigs, you were nice but you didn’t tolerate any disrespect. There were a lot of egos put in check the first few weeks that you were working there and you were surprised that you hadn’t been pulled aside and spoken to about it.
Once you all sort of fell into a flow, the guys quickly realized that you were content to chit-chat but you were keeping them at arm’s length for your sake and theirs. There was something to be said about being ignorant to the goings on of SAMCRO. It wasn’t lying under oath if you really didn’t have a solid clue as to what any of them were doing. They respected that, even if they didn’t always like the way you would wave them off if they were talking about something within earshot of you.
Most of the guys had given up on trying to get cozy with you once you shot them down with a considerable amount of force. Opie checked in on you on a somewhat consistent basis—he felt a little obligated to keep an eye on you since Lyla was the one who had sent you in the direction of the club in the first place. He was always kind to you but he knew and respected that you had pretty firm boundaries with all of them, including himself. As long as you let him know that you were content, safe, and that no one was bothering you at the time, he would leave you be and you really loved that about him.
The only other person who would try to get and keep your attention was Juice. And that was how you found yourself trying and failing to bite back the laughter that you could feel building up inside your chest. You were leaning onto the bar, directly across from Juice who was plopped on a stool in front of you. He was talking about the antics that went down on the shop earlier in the day, and the way that he spoke and gestured, along with the light in his eyes, made it impossible not to laugh and get roped into every word that he said.
There was a boyish charm and innocence to him that you had to admire. He had tried to flirt with you at first and you shot him down instantly, not looking to start playing any games with anyone. He backed off for a little while, giving you your space. But after a couple weeks he wound up right back at the bar, coaxing conversations out of you whenever there was a lull in drink orders. He kept it platonic, carefully choosing his words so you couldn’t shoo him away for being flirtatious or inappropriate. For that reason alone, you rewarded him with some of your time. Plus, there were worse people to look at on the other side of the bar throughout the night.
The later it started to get, the more you tried to encourage everyone to either go home or back to their dorms. Or really just anywhere besides the bar. You hated trying to clean up around people passed out drunk everywhere. It only ever got out of control on the nights of big parties, but you didn’t see any harm in making sure that it stayed that way.
The main expanse of the bar was almost completely empty. There were a few girls getting ready to leave, and Juice was still sitting across the bar as you wiped it down and started stacking glasses in the dishwasher.
You chuckled and shook your head, “Don’t you have somewhere you gotta be, Juice?”
He shook his head, “No, not really.”
You looked down at your watch, “It’s late. Better get to bed if you’re going to wake up and actually make it to work tomorrow.”
“That sick of me, Y/N?”
You had to let out a quiet laugh when you saw his puppy-dog eyes, “You know that’s not true. I would definitely tell you if I was sick of you. Pretty sure I have before,” you laughed.
It got a chuckle out of him, “That’s true. Alright. I’m going to bed then. See you tomorrow?”
You nodded, “See you tomorrow.”
He wandered back towards his dorm and you let out a long sigh once he was out of sight. You looked around at the now-empty clubhouse and a wave of relief washed over you. You set about straightening up and throwing things away. This was easily the longest part of your shift—serving drinks was easy.
Once everything was cleared away, you grabbed yourself a bottle of beer from behind the bar and hoisted yourself up so that you were sitting on top of it, legs swinging idly between the barstools. Never in a million years did you think that you would’ve ended up in this position. Then again, not much of your life was predictable or even felt like it was in your control.
You nursed your beer and soaked up the silence of the clubhouse for a while, finally deciding that it was time for you to leave and go home too. You locked the door behind you as you left, not that it really mattered all that much. You walked out to your car and drove home in silence, just glad to be free of the noise and chaos.
By the time the next afternoon rolled around, you were ready to do it all over again. You shimmied into your jeans and tank top, opting for a pair of comfortable boots. You saw how some of the girls could manage the whole night in heels and you admired their dedication, but that just wasn’t something you were capable of or that committed to. You needed to be able to move a lot, and move quickly. And also kick the shit out of someone if it came down to it.
You were setting up the bar when you heard the door open. You looked over, a smile passing over your lips for a moment when you saw it was Juice.
“This is early even for you, Juan Carlos,” you laughed.
He laughed as he set a coffee down on the surface of the bar, “Just wanted to stop and give you this.”
You raised your eyebrows, “Oh really?”
He held his hands up in surrender, his own coffee cup dangling lightly from his hand, “Just a friendly gesture. I know you were here late last night.”
You nodded slowly as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. You smiled over at him, “I’ll allow it only because this is perfect.”
He chuckled, “Good,” he waved and headed towards the door, “See you later, Y/N.”
You watched as he walked out of the clubhouse. You lightly drummed your fingers on the countertop as your mind raced. You spun the cup and laughed when you saw that he had written his phone number on it.
“In case you’re ever in need of a friendly conversation. Or bail.”
You chuckled and against your better judgment, added his number to your contacts. You didn’t know when you were actually going to reach out to him, but he was a good person to be able to reach, especially if you really did land yourself in some kind of trouble. A warm feeling spread through your chest and you tried to ignore it as you went back to what you were originally doing when he walked in.
You were lucky enough to not have to work the entire length of your usual shift. You weren’t supposed to be the only bartender even though it usually ended up feeling that way. They had the prospect filling in for the second half of the night and you liked him, but not enough to tell him that he didn’t have to work the bar. Giving him a loving pat on the back, you grabbed yourself a beer and headed out of the clubhouse.
It never ceased to amaze you how chilly it got at night despite the fact that the afternoons would be sweltering sometimes. Every night you told yourself to bring a sweatshirt and you remembered about fifty percent of the time. It wasn’t one of those nights, though. You felt goosebumps break out over your arms as you plopped onto the picnic table outside the clubhouse. You looked up at the sky as you sipped on your beer, letting your mind empty out a bit before you headed home.
You heard heavy footsteps behind you and you glanced over your shoulder. You smiled when you saw that it was Juice. He walked over and stood next to the table, looking at you with a hopeful look in his eyes.
“Mind if I sit and grab a smoke?”
You eyed the joint that he was holding and you smiled, “Only if you share.”
“Fine by me,” he chuckled as he plopped down next to you, feet resting on the bench beside yours.
He flicked his lighter and lit the joint in his hand, taking a long drag off of it before handing it over to you. You smiled as you gently took it between your fingers. It had been ages since you last smoked, but you knew that Juice had good connections. Besides, if there was anyone in the club that you would trust with something like that it was Juice—he was too sweet to do something shady, especially to you.
You took a drag and fought the urge to cough as you handed it back to him. You slowly exhaled and laughed, “Sorry about the lipstick.”
He chuckled, “I’ve been told that this is a good shade for me, anyway,” he smiled as he put it back to his lips again.
The two of you sat there in semi-silence, passing the joint back and forth. He was usually so full of energy and had so much to say, you were surprised at how calm and quiet he was.  The outsides of your legs rested against each other and you glanced over at him, but he was so busy staring up at the stars that he didn’t even notice. You let it go.
Opie and Lyla walked out of the clubhouse, his arm draped around her shoulders. He looked at you, eyebrows raised, “All good?”
You nodded, “All good. Thanks, Ope,” you smiled at Lyla, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and said goodbye as the two of them crossed the lot to Opie’s bike and left. With a deep sigh you felt your body shiver. Juice felt you tremble against him and he looked over at you.
“I can run and grab you a hoodie if you want. I got a bunch in my dorm.”
You shook your head as you stood up, “No, that’s alright. I should get going, anyway.”
“Already?”
You laughed, “Hey, I’m off the clock. I don’t gotta stay here until everyone leaves this time,” you finished off your drink and set the bottle of the table next to him.
“Want a lift home?” there was a smile on his face.
You shook your head with a chuckle, “Not tonight. Thank you, though.”
“Tomorrow night?” he raised his eyebrows.
You smiled and placed a quick, soft kiss on his temple, “Goodnight, Juice.”
You could feel him watching you as you crossed the lot to your car, and you shook your head to yourself as you tried to contain your laughter. There was something about him that made you let it go—if it had been any of the other guys you would’ve shot a snarky comment their way for their lingering eyes. But with Juice it was just different.
Once you got home, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized that you’d been holding. You dropped your purse to the floor next to your discarded shoes and made your way towards the bathroom to shower and rinse off the night. You closed your eyes as the soap suds slid down your body and made their way towards the shower drain. There wasn’t a single thought that crossed your mind that really stuck—each one of them disappeared as quickly as they showed up, and that was more than fine by you.
After your shower, you pulled on your most comfortable set of pajamas and huddled down in bed with the latest book that you had been making your way through. With a deep sigh you let yourself really settle against your pillows and under your blanket. You opened the book and dove in. However, every few pages or so, you found your eyes straying over to your phone.
Finally, after arguing with yourself about it for longer than you should have, you grabbed your phone and sent a text to Juice, “Don’t need bail. Just wanted to say thank you for tonight.”
You assumed that he knew it was you, because the response was immediate, “Don’t have to thank me for anything,” a few moments later a second text came through, “I should be the one thanking you for not kicking me off the table”
You laughed and shook your head as you typed out your response, “Well in that case…you’re welcome”
Shortly after sending the message, you passed out. Your hand was loosely cupping your phone as you drifted off to sleep, as if you were waiting for something more to happen.
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nicknellie · 3 years
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@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)
This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!
And It’s Not My Fault
Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.
The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.
The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.
Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.
Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.
Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.
Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.
The joy was gone by noon.
“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.
Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.
The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”
Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.
And then she had to go and ruin it.
“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”
Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.
It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.
The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.
“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”
Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”
Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.
“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”
“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.
He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.
Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.
“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”
Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”
Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.
“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”
He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”
“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”
“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”
“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”
“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”
Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.
But then her face turned to stone again.
“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.
Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.
Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.
The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.
The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.
“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”
“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.
“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”
“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”
Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”
Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.
Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.
Of course, he failed miserably.
The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”
Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.
“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”
Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”
“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”
“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.
Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”
Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”
She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.
“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”
“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”
Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”
“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.
“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”
“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”
What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.
“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”
“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”
Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.
“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”
Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”
Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.
*
Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.
It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.
He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.
But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.
Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.
He could not make himself walk into the house.
He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.
The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…
What if I call Willie?
Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.
“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”
“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”
“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”
Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”
“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.
“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”
“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”
Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.
“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”
Alex gave it to him.
“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”
Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”
Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”
And he hung up.
Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.
“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”
Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.
Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.
However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.
Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”
“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”
“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”
“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”
Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”
Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”
Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.
Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.
“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”
Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.
“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”
Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”
Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”
“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”
As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.
He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.
He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.
Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”
Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”
“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”
Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.
Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.
He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.
But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.
Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.
The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.
Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.
Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”
Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”
“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”
Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.
He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.
“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”
Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”
Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.
“What was what?”
“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”
Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”
“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”
“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”
“It didn’t have to be him!”
“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”
Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.
“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?
“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”
“You should know!”
“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”
“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.
Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”
“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.
“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”
Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.
Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”
Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.
It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!
Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.
“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”
“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”
“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”
He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.
*
Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.
He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.
While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.
He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.
He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?
So Sunday was silent.
Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.
He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.
Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.
Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.
“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.
“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”
“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”
Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”
Alex shook his head.
“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”
Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”
Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”
“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”
“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”
Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.
So he nodded.
“Fine. Thank you.”
Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”
Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”
“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.
“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”
“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”
“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.
Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”
“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.
The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.
“Go talk to him, then.”
*
Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.
Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.
Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”
Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.
Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.
“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”
Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”
“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”
Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”
Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”
Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”
“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”
Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”
Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.
He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”
Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.
“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”
“For what?” Alex asked.
Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”
Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.
He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.
But he too had never said the words out loud.
He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.
“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”
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doberbutts · 4 years
Text
On Consent and Autonomy
Having a discussion with a friend about this sort of thing reminded me that I never typed anything up with Tiki’s journeys through this outside of adding onto various posts already talking about how little dogs like chihuahuas don’t get to have boundaries a lot of the time, and how a lot of the shitty aggressive little dogs are simply dogs who were never allowed to express a boundary without drawing blood.
One of the most important things to me with my animals is, and always has been, consent. I use it with my exotics, I use it with my domestics. There are things that my animals must allow me to do- nail trims, baths, teeth brushing, etc- but for the things that are required I do a lot of no-nonsense desensitization and a lot of fearfree veterinary methods to allow the animal to see that while these things are non-negotiable, they’re also not that bad and don’t have to be the worst thing ever.
But for everything else, there’s always consent involved.
I’ve spoken before about how there’s the issue of autonomy and consent especially with little dogs, who have their buttons pushed and their boundaries ignored simply because of their size, because it’s not like if you harass a doberman into biting you, because an angry chihuahua can do the same damage an angry doberman can. How little dogs especially are favored for the “living toy” and “fashion accessory” factor above all else, and how many of them are so undersocialized and underexercised that they don’t even seem to grasp that they can walk from place to place by themselves and just expect to be carried everywhere by default. How many actually don’t like that and dislike the idea of the looming behavior us freakishly tall humans tend to exhibit while interacting.
One way I managed that entire problem with Tiki was simply asking for consent to pick her up or put her down. She first learned that she could actually move from place to place on her own, and then she learned that she could accept or reject the offer to be held, and then she learned that she could ask to be held or put down. Simply by giving her a cue for both up and down, and allowing her to navigate that while earning her trust that I wouldn’t suddenly change the rules. Even to her last day, she understood the difference between her previous life of being scooped up without warning or consent, and the life I had built for her to accept my offered choice of being held tight to me.
When the vet brought her to me one last time, she was squirming in the vet’s hands to get down. When I offered her the chance to be held, she leapt into my arms and cuddled close. She was delirious with fever and couldn’t hold her own head up, but she still recognized the offer of comfort, and she chose to have her final moments held tight to my chest.
But- that’s not the only consent-based training I practiced with her, or with the various dogs at my job who struggle with the same thing.
In our training videos, you could see me tossing a treat a short distance away to encourage her to leave me. Training can put a lot of pressure on a dog, especially a dog that may be sensitive or struggle with confidence, and the tossed treat provides a “break” from expectations as it allows them to disconnect and disengage, giving them a chance to destress by sniffing, shaking, or running around a bit before returning to you. My general rule of thumb is that if I toss the treat and the dog does not immediately return for more training, they are asking for space or even for a longer break. This is a bit different if the dog is simply distracted by its surroundings- for those, I will encourage them to come back by calling them. But more and more I have found that these sensitive dogs actually develop more and more tolerance to that pressure, because they are allowed to back off when they feel overwhelmed, and rejoin you when they feel more confident. Of course, it is key to keep your training lighthearted and fun regardless, but especially so with these sensitive dogs that need a little extra boost. No one likes learning that feels like a chore.
Another thing I do is during playtime. If I begin to suspect someone is getting too aroused or overwhelmed, I remove the aggressor from the situation and bring them a few feet away. If the recipient does not want to continue the interaction or needs space, they typically will walk away. If instead they come bounding over to harass the aggressor to rejoin play, then the game was fun and everyone was having a good time. If I have removed someone too late for a peaceable interaction (ie: I stepped in as aggressive corrections began happening), then both are taken aside to calm down before being re-released to opposite ends of the play area and they are monitored closely to ensure their next meeting and interaction does not result in a grudge match. I frequently use a three-strikes method with this- you get three chances to not be a giant dick before playtime is over. After that point, you may watch (if you are quiet), but you are outside of the play area and on leash. Very rarely do I need to employ that method more than once before the dog in question connects that dickish behavior = no more fun, and it keeps everyone else safe in the mean time. More often I have dogs that learn how to play appropriately, respond to social cues and minor corrections well, and to alter their play to suit a variety of partners and groups.
I also do this with human-to-dog playtime! Tiki loved biting and wrestling hands, and once again especially with a smaller or more sensitive or less confident dog, it’s easy to accidentally overwhelm or scare or hurt your dog without realizing it. To prevent this, I do push the dog away during a wrestle match. If the dog bounces away from me, or continues to bounce but holds a position just out of reach, then generally that is a cue that they were becoming overwhelmed and need a moment to recover. If the dog immediately pounces on my hands again, then once again the game was fun and everyone was enjoying themselves.
Dogs cannot speak English or any other human language. That’s not to say they don’t understand us, but their ability to say these words are so limited that outside of a handful of studies we truly haven’t seen too many instances of dogs communicating with words we humans can understand. That does not at all mean they cannot consent. I frequently ask the dogs “do you want ___” or similar. While yes, most of the things I ask them are things I’ve built up very positive associations with- a walk, a cookie, their dinner, to go play- the fact remains that all of the dogs in the house are used to hearing us ask if they desire something. Before I give Creed a cookie, I ask if he wants it. Before I take him to potty, I ask if that’s what he needs. Before I offer him something to sniff, I ask if he wants to. There are, in fact, times where I give him something and he spits it out. I ask him, “do you want ___” and sometimes he really does walk away. No, he didn’t want that right now.
It can sound silly, asking dogs what they want, asking for consent, things like that. But it’s also not as difficult of a concept as one might think! Having seen so many dogs aided by these methods and more, I can’t imagine going back to force a dog to do something (non-essential) it genuinely didn’t want to do. What exactly is the harm in allowing your little dog to say no sometimes to being picked up? What exactly is the harm in allowing your sensitive dog to say it needs a break from training? What exactly is the harm in allowing your dog to say it needs a moment to calm down while playing? The harm in not allowing these things is the very real prospect of getting bitten. Allowing them? Don’t really see any negative side-effects.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years
Text
Family reunion; Sirius Black x daughter teen reader
*Author’s note*
Okay so this is my first Harry Potter fanfic in awhile so if I get anything wrong, I apologize in advance. So this takes place during POA and I know it kinda drags along in some parts but I promise it gets better in some parts. Now idk if I'll make a sequel to this part, maybe with enough encouragement from you guys, maybe I'll get around to writing a part 2 that takes place during Order of the phoenix. But for now please enjoy this oneshot of Sirius Black.
Warnings: Swearing, mild violence, death of parent(s), bit of angst and fluff.
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If you had told me that when I first walked through the halls of Hogwarts that in my 5th year that I would reunite with my dad, honestly I would believe it.  I always believed my father was innocent, even at just 3 years old I remember that night very clearly.  Because it wasn’t just the night that my godfather James and god mother Lily were killed, but my mother was also killed that day.
I saw with my own eyes (my mum had borrowed my godfather’s invisibility cloak to hide me) as Peter Pettigrew killed my mother with the ultimate unforgivable curse.  I remember crying over her dead body pleading for her to wake up, I remember daddy walking in and seeing us on the floor and him crying alongside me.
I especially remember when he left me at uncle Remus’ place for protection to go hunt Pettigrew only to be framed for murder of not only him but 12 muggles.
Since then my uncle was next in line to take care of me should anything happen to either my parents or godparents (my mum had no other living relatives and my dad wanted to ensure that I had no ties to the Black family tree should the worse happen).
For years I’ve been under my uncle Remus’ care who believed every word the Ministry said about my dad.  He didn’t want to but the evidence was stacked against my dad (even though no deep investigation had been made).
Anyways—oh wait I’m getting ahead of myself. I tend to do that a lot.  The name’s (Y/n) Lupin-Black, I’m currently a 5th year Hogwarts student in Ravenclaw (my mum’s house).  Even though I’m in Ravenclaw I’ve been friends with the Weasley twins Fred and George since our first year when the two of them stole my notes and wouldn’t give it back till I could tell them apart.
Amazingly I did and since then they’ve stuck to me like glue. The three of us do cause a bit of trouble at times (I get my mischievous side from my dad and brains from my mum, according to Gryffindor’s head professor, Professor McGonagall).
I also have an ability that I also inherited from my dad. I am a legal animangus, in fact I’m the youngest animangus the Ministry ever recorded.  
It took a lot of hard work and training in order to focus but by my second year I had mastered the ability.  My animangus form is a puma, and I’ve used it to help with my uncle’s—condition.  In fact that was the reason I wanted to become one.
He was at first against it but with a letter recommendation from Professor McGonagall and my head of house, Professor Flitwick, my uncle had no choice but to allow me to go through it.
Now as a 5th year, things have been—hectic these past few years since Harry Potter came to Hogwarts.  The Chamber of Secrets had been opened last year, and we had an incident with a troll, lost 2 DADA professors (but what else is new with that), but this year my uncle is the new professor for that class, and so far according to the Golden trio, everyone loves him.
But back to this story about my dad.  This year everyone at Hogwarts was on alert because my dad had escaped from Azkaban, the first ever wizard to ever do such a thing.  Now our school was to be housing for the Dementors until my dad was found and captured.
I tried to keep a low profile about it but at nights whenever I helped my uncle out during his ‘wolf-trots’ I would also try to see if I could find my dad.
Then one night it happened.
I was out with uncle Remus but I had lost trace of him through the Forbidden forest.  As I walked along in my puma form, my ears soon picked up the sound of barking.  Not werewolf barks, they were—dog barks? But why was a dog all the way out here? Dogs are the sort of creatures allowed within a mile of Hogwarts, nor can they get pass the barrier.
I raced on ahead and when I stood over a cliff but lowered myself down behind the rocks.  There I saw a scruffy, lean, but massive black dog barking at a few Acromantulas.  God I hate those things, I don’t care what Hagrid says, spiders can’t be trusted!  And I was right because right now this dog was being attacked by about seven of these things.
As one of them knocked the dog down and pinned it to the ground, ready to bite it and fill it with its venom, I let out a protective roar.  The spiders all looked up at me and I leapt down from the cliff and stood protectively in front of the black dog.
With a slash of my paws, I struck one of the spiders across it’s many eyes before biting down on it and tossing it like a paper ball.  I then leapt forward and pinned one of the other spiders down.  Another one tried to attack me but as it reared upward, the dog suddenly came up and rolled around with the spider.
I bit the head off the one I had pinned before racing across and swiping the legs off another one.  Soon realizing that they couldn’t win since a few of their siblings had already fallen, the rest of the spiders retreated back into their burrows and caves. I let out a loud and aggressive roar before turning towards the dog.
We walked towards each other till we stood face to face of one another.  As I stared at this dog, something about it was familiar to me.  Through the scruffy, madded fur and the very lean body I looked into it’s eyes and if I were back in my human form I would’ve gasped.
This wasn’t any ordinary dog, it—it was him.  My dad. Of course this was his animangus form, I remember! All the times he’d chase me around in his dog form when I was little, our nights curled up under the stars whenever mum wasn’t home, it was him!
My ears bent back as I sniffed at him.  When he noticed that I wasn’t any ordinary puma, he came up and sniffed around me.  He let out a surprised grunt as his ears perked up and his tail went up as it softly began to wag.
I leaned my head up against his letting out a loud, affectionate purr and he nuzzled against my head as well.  His paw would reach up and lightly touch the side of my head, almost as if he were embracing me.  We continued to nuzzle each other and I knew that if we could both show our human forms, we’d both be weeping hysterically as we’d hug and kiss each other.
But for now, our animangus forms would have to do.  As his head rested on my chest, I licked down his neck where I had seen a pretty bad scratch.  I licked his wound when we both heard the sound of a werewolf’s howl. Uncle Remus.
We both turned towards the direction of the howl before looking back at each other.  Dad gave me a gentle nod.  I looked between him and the direction of the howls hesitantly while giving him sad eyes. How could I leave him when I just found him after 12 years.  He came up to me and licked my muzzle up to behind my ears.  He then backed up and let out a couple of confident yet soft barks.
I nodded and nuzzled him again purring before licking his face affectionately.  I backed up and walked to where uncle Remus was but turned back to dad one last time. He let out another bark before I let out a low meow before racing on ahead to find uncle Remus.
That was over a month ago, but here is where our story truly begins.  Harry and his friends were slowly starting to piece together the story of my dad and Peter Pettigrew but with some straying doubt from my uncle, Harry still believed that my dad betrayed his parents and sold them to Voldemort.
I myself have tried to get him to see that my father wasn’t a threat but Harry has shut himself away from me.  He’s called me practically every name in the book and refuses to listen to me, hell he barely can even stand the sight of me.  Ron’s also elected to ignore me and treat me just like the school and the whole wizarding world has treated my dad.
Hermione on the other hand tolerates me just a bit more. She wants to believe what I have to say but due to the 12 long years of ‘evidence’ against my dad, she can’t seem to fully understand why the wizarding community would lie about framing an innocent man.
I sat alone by the Black lake looking up at the gloomy sky and stared out into the still, calm lake.  I let out a heavy sigh when I heard a voice behind me.
“You should really started heading back to the castle, it’s almost curfew time.” I turned around and there stood uncle Remus.  “And I would hate to give my niece a detention.”
“Please. You couldn’t find it in your heart to ground me for a week when the Weasley twins and I exploded the supply closet in the potions classroom in our second year.”
“Yes but I did give you a stern good lecture about messing with those chemicals.” He sat down beside me on the rocky surface and stared out the lake alongside me. “This reminds me back to my years at school with your father and the rest of my friends. We always snuck out here to this lake for late night swims.”
“Now, now uncle don’t go influencing me. You never know I might just run it by the twins.” I teased.
“(Y/n).” he started in that lecturing manner of his.
“Kidding, kidding. I know of the dangers of this lake.”
“Plus I never approved of us coming here to swim. It was always James and…….” He trailed off.
“Uncle do you really believe dad did what people said he did?” I said as I looked up at him.  He sighed deeply and said in a soft manner.
“As much as I want to believe it didn’t happen, I wasn’t there to say it wasn’t your father.”
“But I’ve told you countless times about my mother’s death! I saw with my own eyes who it was that killed her.”
“And I don’t doubt that. But with your godparents and those 12 muggles……your father’s family ties…..”
“Don’t define him! That’s why he made sure to not let anyone of the Black family tree get custody of me! Why he made sure that you were to be my guardian after papa James and mama Lily died!”
“If I‘m being honest he shouldn’t have done it to begin with.”
“Because of your condition?” he went silent. “Uncle……I never cared about that. You were never a monster to me. Why do you think I studied to be an animangus?” he turned to me.
“I’m just thankful you didn’t do the same thing your father did. Going ‘bout it the illegal route.” He cupped the side of my face, “You know Harry’s not the only one with his parent’s appearance.” I smiled solemnly.
“I know. My mother’s face but I have my father’s eyes.” It’s true.  Throughout all my life I had been told of people, especially uncle Remus here that I look practically identical to my mother, my eyes however are just like my father’s.
“I wish that she did get to see the women you grew up to be. She would be very proud of you.”
“Sometimes I—fear that I’m starting to forget about her.” I admitted to him.  Uncle Remus stroked my hair and allowed me to rest my head on his shoulder as an arm wrapped around me.
“Just think of how you succeeded throughout your schooling. That’s your mother right there. She was far too clever for her own right, even more than me. I’ll even admit that at times I was jealous of her at times.” We both softly laughed.
“I do recall dad telling me some of your little competitions you and mum used to do to prove just who was the most clever. She always beat you.”
“Not at everything!”
“I’m kidding. I know you did beat her at some stuff.” I looked up and saw my uncle looking toward the sky.  He almost seemed deep in thought about something. “Uncle? Uncle? Uncle Remus?”
“Hmm? Oh sorry love. But back to the reason why I came here; even though I am your uncle and guardian, I’m still a professor at this school and I order you to get back to the castle.”
“Yes Professor Lupin.” I said as I got up and walked away. However I snuck behind a tree because I wanted to see just where he was going.
If he wanted me to get back to the castle so urgently, why not just take me all the way there himself? What’s he up to? So I quietly followed behind him in my animangus form.  Sticking to the shadows and any tall shrub or bush to hide myself from my uncle, I crouched down low behind a rock as he now stood before the Whomping willow tree.
He took out his wand and said a spell which made the tree go still.  Once the branches went still, I saw him enter inside a small entrance of the tree and I quickly followed, now phasing back into my normal form.
I noticed that this place now suddenly looked like some sort of shack.  It was haunting and creaks and groans were heard all around me.  I reached out for my wand but before I could even grab it, I felt something touch my neck and a low, graveled voice said.
“Don’t. Move.” Ahh bollocks!
“Professor Snape.” I said lowly, trying to not be a threat. Yeah much like my dad, Professor Snape pretty much hated me since day one (I’m pretty sure he hates every student that isn’t a Slytherin).
“Sneaking out past curfew, allying in your father’s hiding, I would have the right mind to have you expelled from Hogwarts and have you be taken to Azkaban alongside your fugitive of a father.” Oh man did I really wanna punch him at this point.
“Professor you know he’s—” I felt his wand press harder against my neck as he hissed in my ear.
“It’s your word against the Ministry’s. Now follow me and do as your told.” Knowing I had no other choice, I allowed him to lead me up the stairs where I heard my dad’s voice say.
“Peter Pettigrew. And he’s in this room! Right now!”
“Take your wand out, and if he’s armed, disarm him.” I took my wand out and as my dad was calling out for Peter to come out, I stepped forward and cried out.
“Expelliarmus!” I saw as a wand fell out of my dad’s hand and that’s when my dad turned to me in shock.
“(Y/n)?” he gaped at me.
“(Y/n) what are you doing here?! I thought I told you to go back to the castle!” uncle Remus said.
“You should’ve realized that she’s more like her father in every way. Including disobedience.” Professor Snape soon made himself known as he now aimed his wand at my back, making sure to let my dad see it. “Vengeance is sweet. How I hoped to be the one to catch you.”
“Severus—” my uncle started off. Snape sent him one dirty look and as usual my uncle submitted as Snape hissed out.
“I told Dumbledore you were helping an old friend into the castle and now here’s the proof.”
“Brilliant Snape. Once again you put your keen impenetrating mind to the task, and as usual it comes to the wrong conclusions. Now if you’ll drop your wand and step away from my daughter, Remus and I have unfinished business to attend to!” his wand moved from my back to my throat.
“Give me a reason. I beg you.” He challenged my father.
“Dad.” I pleaded with fearful eyes.
“It’ll be alright darling.” He assured me.  His eyes then turned cold as he stared at Snape. “It’s one thing when you put your nose where it doesn’t belong, but when you force others to do your dirty work for you, that’s where I draw the line. If you don’t let my daughter go now, then I will show you a reason why I belong in Azkaban!”
“Sirius don’t be a fool.” Uncle Remus said.
“Well he can’t help it Remus it’s habit.”
“Quiet Sirius!”
“Quiet yourself Remus!”
“Listen to you two quarreling like an old married couple.” Snape said but that’s when dad sassed back at him.
“Why don’t you run along and play with your chemistry set!?” I was then shoved out of the way as Snape now had his wand right at my father’s neck now.  I fell to the ground but was quickly brought back up and held in my uncle’s arms.
“I could do it you know. But why deny the Dementors? They’re so longing to see you. Do I detect a flicker of fear? Oh yes, a Dementor’s kiss, one can only imagine what that much be like to endure. It’s said to be unbearable to witness but I’ll do my best.”
“Severus please.” My uncle tried to reason with him again. Once again Snape glared at my uncle and sneered once again.
“After you. Then we can deal with that rebel daughter of his next.” The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife before suddenly Harry called out.
“Expelliarmus!” then Snape went flying back towards an old rotten bed which collapsed right on him.
“Harry what did you just do?” asked Ron.
“You attacked a teacher!” Hermione exclaimed.
“Tell me about Peter Pettigrew.” Harry demanded as he pointed his wand at my uncle and I.
“He was an old school friend of theirs.” I answered him.
“No. Pettigrew’s dead. You killed him!” Harry said as he now pointed his want towards my dad.
“No he didn’t. I thought he was too till you mentioned seeing Pettigrew on the map.” Uncle Remus said.
“The map was lying then!” Harry argued.
“The map never lies! Pettigrew’s alive! And he’s right there!” my dad said before pointing towards Ron.
“Me? He’s mental!”
“Not you Ron! Your rat!” I told him.
“Scabbers? But he’s been in my family for—”
“12 years?! Curious long life for a common garden rat. He’s missing a toe isn’t he?”
“So what?” demanded Ron.
“All they could find of Pettigrew was his……” Harry started off.
“Finger.” Both my dad and I said.  The two of us looked at each other and softly smiled before my dad continued.
“The dirty coward cut it off so that everyone would think he was dead. And then he transformed into a rat!”
“Show me.” Harry ordered.  At this point my dad went to grab Ron’s rat but of course he refused to let go.  Once he managed to get Pettigrew out of Ron’s grip, Ron pleaded for my dad to leave Scabbers alone.  Hermione and I held him back so that my dad and uncle could finish the job.
Unfortunately Pettigrew was too fast for them to get a good shot to change him back.  So I quickly whipped out my wand and right as the rat went for a hole in the wall, I shot the spell and he soon morphed, for the first time in over 12 years, back into the stout, pudgy man that killed my mother.
My dad and uncle pulled him out of the wall and for the first time, Harry, Ron and Hermione saw Peter Pettigrew, the real man behind my father’s framed crime and the person responsible for Harry’s parent’s death and my mother’s killer.
“Remus…….S-Si-Sirius? My old friends.” Pettigrew praised before trying to make an escape for it, but they wouldn’t have it.  When his eyes soon lay on me, I felt my blood boil. “Ohh little (Y/n). So much like your mother, and with your father’s eyes. You remember me right? Your old uncle Pete—” as he came closer to me, I allowed my puma claws to come out as I scratched him across the face.  He whimpered as blood now began to seep down his face.
“You have no right to talk to me!” I growled at him. “I saw what you did that night! I WAS THERE YOU BASTARD!! YOU KILLED MY MOTHER!!” this time Ron and Hermione had to be the ones to hold me back from tearing that rat apart.
He shielded away from me in fear before turning to Harry who was just stunned in shock.
“Harry, look at you. You look so much like your father. Like James. We were best friends you know……”
“How dare you speak to Harry!” my dad hissed protectively. “How dare you talk about James in front of him!” soon the two of them had Pettigrew pinned by the piano, their wands at the ready.
“You sold James and Lily to Voldemort didn’t you!?” my uncle demanded.
“I didn’t mean to.” Wept the rat man pathetically.  He then began to go off on a ramble of how Voldemort was powerful and had weapons we had no idea he possessed. “What would you have done Sirius? What would you have done?”
“I would’ve died! I would’ve died rather than betray my friends or the woman I love!” my dad exclaimed as Peter tried to make his escape.  Harry blocked his escape but Peter whispered into his ear about something.
Finally I decided to step in and I pulled the rat away from my godbrother and aimed my wand at him.  Without even hesitating my father and uncle joined at my side and I said.
“Then you should know uncle. That if the Dark Lord didn’t kill you, then we will!”
“No wait!” Harry exclaimed.  My breathing sharpened as I said.
“Harry, this bastard……”
“I know what he is (Y/n). But we’ll take him to the castle. Together.” He placed his hand on top of mine and he softly whispered, “Would you mother want this?” I looked at him, tears starting to form in my eyes.
I turned back to Pettigrew who was now on his knees praising Harry for his mercy.
“Bless you boy. Bless you sweet boy.”
“Get off!” Harry snapped. “I said we’d take you back to the castle. Afterwards the Dementors can have you.” oh now this I like.  The traitor’s face turned from pure bliss to absolute horror as he fidgeted fearfully trying to make himself smaller.
After leaving the Shrieking Shack and exited out of the Whomping Willow, I watched as my dad walked ahead and stood to look up at the school.
I looked to Harry and gave him a soft nod.  His eyes showed hesitation but with a gentle shove he walked towards my father and I watched as the two of the proceed to talk with each other.
“You knew he was innocent?” Hermione said to me.
“Yes, I did. As I said back there it wasn’t just uncle James and Aunt Lily that died because of Peter. I was there to see my mother die right before my eyes. She had the invisibility cloak at the time, probably stole it from uncle James just to spite him or something. But she hid me with it and I saw as Peter came in and killed her with the last of the unforgivable curses.”
“I’m so sorry (Y/n). To think you had to see something like that.”
“We’re sorry we’ve been wankers to you about this (Y/n). Harry and I especially, can you forgive us?” Ron said.  I softly smiled and ruffled his hair.
“There’s nothing to forgive Weasley. Although you’re gonna have to do a lot of kissing up to your brothers Fred and George. They’ve been wanting to slug you for your behavior towards me.”
Then something happened that I wished never did.  The clouds slowly began to move away to reveal the full moon.  Oh no!
“Uncle Remus!” I exclaimed but it was too late.  He was starting to transform into his werewolf form.
My dad quickly ran up to him trying to hold his transformation back, but it was no use.  The agonizing groans and screams coming out of my uncle as his bones snapped and broke before changing and morphing to fit his upcoming werewolf body.  And to make matters worse, Pettigrew seized that opportunity to escape from our grasp.
Even though Harry disarmed him with an Expelliarmus spell, it still didn’t stop the rat from turning into true form before making his escape.  My dad knowing he couldn’t hold uncle Remus any longer told us to run.
Soon my dad was thrown down the hill and I exclaimed out.
“DAD!!” I quickly ran towards uncle Remus hoping I could knock some sense into him before his final transformation came around. “Uncle Remus you can fight it! The monster does not control you, you control it! Fight it! Think harder on your human senses!”
Just like my father, I too was sent down towards the hill as the last thing I heard was the sound of my uncle’s werewolf howl.
When I opened my eyes, I saw myself in Madam Pomfrey’s nursing wing.
“(Y/n), oh thank goodness you’re awake. Can you stand up?” Hermione’s voice said over me.  My vision finally came back and I said.
“What happened?”
“There’s not a lot of time to explain (Y/n) but your dad’s in serious danger. The Dementors are going to suck his soul.”
“What!?” I said fearfully as I shot up. “They can’t do that. He’s innocent!”
“Which is why I need to ask if you can stand and walk?”
“Yeah I can but why?” she pulled me up from my bed over to Harry who stood at the center of the room.
“Sorry Ronald but you can’t walk.” She then took a necklace out from her shirt and placed the chain around Harry and I before holding out what looked like a mini-hourglass.
The pendent began to spin around and soon right before our very eyes, the world around us seemed to go backwards.  Night turned into the gloomy afternoon once more as the medical wing was now abandoned and Hermione stopped the pendant’s spinning and she said as she took the chain off of mine and Harry’s neck and tucked it back into her shirt.
“Where were we at this hour Harry?”
“Uhh going to Hagrid’s I think.”
“And (Y/n) where were you at this time?”
“I was down at the Black Lake with uncle Remus, why?”
“Alright come on!” she took off running.  Harry and I ran after her confused asking her just what was going on.
That’s when she explained to us about the time turner necklace she had been given by Professor McGonagall, and she explained to Harry that that was how she was able to do all her classes this term.
So throughout the day we went down to Hagrid’s and I even got to see Hermione sucker punch Malfoy right in the nose (which I praised her on). We went down to Hagrid’s hut and we made our plan to save Buckbeak the Hippogriff (apparently Professor Dumbledore said that more than one life could be spared today).
As the day went on, it was nearly time to try and save my dad. So we sat just down the hill from the Whomping Willow.  We watched as uncle Remus came in and made the tree stop it’s swaying for a brief moment before entering inside, followed by me shortly after him.
“Wait you’re also an animangus?” Harry asked me.
“Surprised?” I asked him.
“When did you become one?” asked Hermione.
“I was roughly around your age when I took my test before the Wizard council to get my official license. They said I was the youngest registered animangus there ever was.” I looked up and said, “And there goes Snape. Right in after me.”
The two young teens turned and saw that Snape did go in shortly after me.
“Now we wait I guess.” Harry said.  We all made ourselves comfortable because we knew it would be awhile before we all left the Shrieking shack and came back before the Whomping Willow.
Then after seeing us come out, I watched as Harry went down to talk to my dad and that’s when he told me.
“You see me there talking to Sirius? He had just asked me to come live with him, you as well (Y/n). He talked about you and your mother a lot. As well as my parents.”
“I know. They were really good friends Harry. Even at just 3 years old, I knew my dad would never have betrayed yours. Never, not even if he were tortured. That’s why he named your parents my godparents.”
“I guess we were meant to be siblings either way.” I softly grinned at him and ruffled his hair before pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“I remember be so excited to have a younger ‘sibling’. Though I’ll admit I wanted you to be a girl, but you eventually grew on me.” Hermione giggled while Harry turned away embarrassedly.
Then that’s when the trouble began.  We saw uncle Remus transform into his werewolf form, the fight between him and my dad (who was in his animangus form), and then even be chased by him when Hermione howled to stop him from attacking Harry.
I phased into my animangus form to protect Hermione and Harry in case my uncle came around to find us.  When he did, I stood protectively in front of my brother and Hermione snarling and roaring at him.  But before we could charge at each other, Buckbeak had came in and fought my uncle off.
Man poor uncle Remus is having a really rough night. I then felt a coldness in the air and when we looked up we saw the Dementors flying towards where my dad must’ve been at after the fight with uncle Remus.
I gestured for Hermione and Harry to get on my back and once they were on, I raced on ahead and we stopped across the frozen lake and we all watched with horror as the Dementors began to suck out both Harry’s and my dad’s souls.
“Now just wait Hermione, my dad will come. He’ll be standing right there.” Harry said as he got off my back and walked a few steps ahead of us.  Hermione and I looked at each other sympathetically and she got off my back as well and stood beside him.
“Harry—your dad’s…….”
“Dead I know but just watch. He’ll cast the Patronus right there. Just like he did before.” We waited and waited but all we saw were my dad and Harry dying right before our eyes.
“You’re dying Harry. Both of you.” I said as I morphed back into my normal form.  God I had heard of witnessing a Dementor’s kiss is something awful but—god this was torture.  I wanted to step in and save my dad and Harry from the Dementors but what could I do? I’m not strong enough to conjure a Patronus charm, plus I would be outnumbered even if I tried any other spell I could name.
Next thing I saw was Harry racing forward to the spot where he said his dad was standing at.
“Harry!” Hermione called out but I wrapped my arms around her to stop her from racing towards him and that’s when we saw him lift up his wand and exclaim.
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Soon a bright light came from out of his wand and a bright wave of light shot out, which sent all the dementors away, saving Harry and my father from a terrible fate.
As I stared at my godbrother, I couldn’t be more proud of him. Not even I was able to conjure up a spell like that at his age, hell I can barely do it now.  He truly was a gifted young man, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.
After saving himself, we were now flying on Buckbeak heading for the highest tower where my dad was being kept.  I was sitting right behind Hermione while she was terrifyingly holding onto Harry for dear life.
“You were right Hermione. It wasn’t my dad I saw earlier. It was me! I saw myself conjured the Patronus before. I knew I could do it this time because—well I’d already done it. Does that make sense?”
“No! But I don’t like fly-AHHH!!!” She screamed as Buckbeak took a dive down towards the school, while Harry and I were cheering our heads off.
When we reached the tower, there we saw locked up in a cage, my dad looking forlorn as he awaited his fate.  He quickly turned to us and I took out my wand and pointed it at the lock as I proclaimed out.
“Alohomora!” the doors unlocked and swung wide open. “C’mon dad, we’re busting you out of here.” I extended my hand out to him and he immediately took my hand.
The four of us now flying on Buckbeak with Hermione up front, me behind her then my dad and Harry.  
And for the first time in 12 years, my dad finally felt free as a Hippogriff flying high in the sky.  Never have I heard him sound so happy and it brought a smile to my face as I heard him cheering.
We landed in the garden wing of the school and as my dad helped Hermione as well as me off of Buckbeak he said as we walked towards the corner of the garden.
“I’ll be forever be grateful for this. To the three of you.”
“I want to go with you.” said Harry.
“One day perhaps. For some time my life will be too unpredictable. Besides, you’re meant to be here.”
“But you’re innocent.”
“And you know it Harry.” I told him. “Just like I’ve always known.”
“She’s right. And for now that’ll do.” As Hermione left the three of us to have our little family moment, my dad then turned towards me. He stood before me and gently cupped each side of my face.  His calloused thumbs stroking my cheeks as he said to me, “I expect like Harry you might be tired of hearing this, but you are a splitting image of your mother. Except your eyes, you have……”
“Your eyes.” I finished for him.  Tears flickered in my eyes but I tried to hold them back. “I’ve only dreamed of something like this happening, and—even now I fear this still feels like a dream.”
“I’ve told you once when you were little; Dreams can feel like many things. Whether to make us feel happy or afraid, but in dreams you can never feel what is happening to you. So this, right here, is real my darling kitten.”
He took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  When I felt it, I knew that this was real.  My dad was free, he was here, and he was right in front of me.  I embraced him as tightly as I could, burying myself into the ragged cloth of his prison uniform.  Slowly a few tears dripped from my eyes one by one as I felt my dad embrace me back just as tightly while rocking me from side to side.
“I’ve missed you so much dad.”
“Not as much as I’ve missed you. I’ve missed so much of your life. You were just a little girl when I was taken away and now I’ve seen you’ve become a beautiful young woman, just like I’d hope you’d be. Your mum would be so proud. Just as I am. I’m so sorry I put you through this.”
“I know why you did it dad. If I were older I would’ve done the same thing. I just……wish none of this had to happen.”
“As do I kitten. As do I. There hasn’t been a day that I don’t regret leaving you like I did. I made you lose both your parents.”
“That’s another thing I’ve inherited from you.” he looked at me confused. “Uncle Remus has always said I did get your stubbornness.” He softly chuckled before grabbing the back of my head and pressing his forehead against mine.
We stayed in that position for what felt like forever till he pressed a kiss to the center of my forehead before he guided me over to sit next to Harry.  He knelt down before the both of us as he said to us.
“It’s cruel that I got so much time with James, Lily and (m/n) and you both so little. But know this. The ones that love us never really leave us. And you both can always find them,” he then placed his left hand over Harry’s heart while his right hand pointed towards mine, “In here.”
Dad stood up and walked over to Buckbeak and mounted on top of his back once again, gently gripping onto the chained reins.  As Harry and I came up and stood beside Hermione, my dad complimented to her that she was indeed a bright witch for her age.
Buckbeak then reared as he let out a proud roar before taking off running before flapping his proud wings and taking off high towards the moon with my dad on his back.
Two souls finally free from the law.
The clock tower began to gong loudly and that’s when Hermine told us we needed to get back to the hospital wing.  We quickly raced towards the medical wing before the last strike of the belltower.
We saw Professor Dumbledore with his back towards us as he peeked through the doors before closing them.
“Well?” he asked us.
“We did it. They’re free.” Harry said.
“Did what? Goodnight.” The headmaster gave us a wave before descending down the stairs.  Oh that crazy old man.  The three of us walked towards the door but before we went in, we had to watch ourselves disappear to start the whole rescue all over again.  Once we disappeared, that’s when we came in the room.
“How did you get there? You were just over there. And now you’re there!” Ron said to us in shock.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Ronald? Do you Harry? (Y/n)?”
“No clue. Maybe you should have your head examined Ronny, think you might be going mental.” I teased.
“Yeah Ron. How can people be in two places at once?” Harry joked alongside me.
Things after that were pretty crazy.  After it had been leaked out about my uncle’s condition (damn you Snape!) my uncle resigned as professor at Hogwarts, Harry had gotten the new firebolt broom (curtesy of my dad) and he got to test it out.
I was in my bedroom just finishing the last bit of my packing to return home for the summer when my owl Arella came flying in.  Her familiar grey and white feathers ruffled as she landed on her perch and she made her trilling sound.
“What have you have there, girl?” I noticed she had a small jewelry box tied to her back along with a note in her beak.  I took the note then untied the box from her back as she shook herself out and ruffled her feathers.
I set the box down and opened up the note and inside was a letter written in my dad’s hand writing.
My beloved kitten,
This once belonged to your mother (I gave it to her just shortly after you were born) and I figured she would want you to have it.  Keep it close to your heart and her memory will never leave you.
Your father,
Sirius Black
I set the note down and opened up the box now and inside was a necklace.  It was a silver heart-shaped locket and I noticed a little button at the side of it. I pressed down on it and it opened up to reveal something that not only broke my heart, but also filled it with joy.
The moving picture inside was my mother holding me as a baby. Her wide smile as she held me in her arms, her eyes filled with nothing but love.  When she looked up and her smile softened, I really did get to see what my uncle and dad were talking about.
I really did look like my mother.  Same hair, same mouth, same face, almost everything was of my mother. A single tear fell down my cheek as I kissed the picture and held it close to my heart.
Soon I began to get brief flashbacks of various moments with my mother.  I remember how she’d always sing me to sleep while having the windchimes of various creatures softly ring above me.  The way she’d make breakfast, and how we’d play together at papa James and mama Lilly’s place.
I unhooked the chain and placed it around my neck and saw as the heart shaped locket actually rested against my own heart.
“Thanks dad. And thank you mum. I miss you, but you can rest easy now. Dad’s free.” I said as I stared up at the sky holding the locket closer against my heart.
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potatohajime · 3 years
Text
Gundham and Ryota fluff, no plot, just fluffy.
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Character(s): Gundham Tanaka(Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair) and Ryota Mitarai(Danganronpa 3: End of Hope's Peak High School)
Pairing: Gundham Tanaka x GN! S/O x Ryota Mitarai
A/U: Non-Despair
TW/CW: Old S/H scars
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Yes more Gundham Tanaka because he is my biggest comfort character and some Ryota too because I barely see anything about him. Also Y/N will always be gender neutral for the sake of the readers, unless it is requested to be a specific gender, also the S/O here is the ultimate mangaka as well. I also apologise for my horrible, writing, I am still a beginner so I am trying very hard, I hope you like it
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"S/O, hey, wake up," you opened your eyes tiredly with a silent yawn escaping your mouth, with the sight of a strawberry blonde haired boy patting your back in hopes you would wake up. "R-ryota?" You called the boy's name in a soft tone, the boy smiled in relief.
You got up from your sitting position, your back and butt hurting like hell, "Ow.." you muttered under you breath, why were you in this position anyway?
You then remembered that you had been working on an ongoing series you have been working on since the beginning of the year, and stayed up all day and night to finish the 7th volume to the point you fell asleep on your desk, exhausted from the non-stop work. Ryota quickly hugged you rubbing your back gently in a comforting way.
"You shouldn't be up all night like this"
"I know"
"Me and Gundham were so worried about you"
"I know"
"Please don't power off your next time"
"Okay"
Once he had let go you stretched your back yawning once again, your nose twitched as you smelt something cooking, you immediately knew who it was,-
( I AM SORRY TO ALL MY TERUTERU STANS OUT THERE I SWEAR I WILL WRITE SOMETHING FOR Y'ALL)
your other boyfriend Gundham, despite him being the Ultimate Breeder, he was a good cook, he did need to make food for his many pets so he has lots of recipes for both animals and himself, though he won't eat anything with meat products in. Awide smile grew on your face, the smell of food always lightens you up, which is a reason Akane is one of your closest friends.
You got up and gave Ryota a peck on the cheek, and got your phone from your desk to power it on, "I am sorry for worrying you, but atheist you now know how we feel when yo-" before you were able to finish, your phone buzzed nonstop for 5 whole minutes, you had over a 99+ unread messages and 80 missed calls! Most of them from Ryota and Gundham, others are from the other people you knew, and then lots of over excited fans.
" I am sorry about that " The boy apologised nervously looking at his feet though he kept his eyes on yours. You couldn't hold it, your cheek was so red, your stomach hurts from holding it, so you let it go, you laughed uncontrollably, were they seriously that worried? It was just 24 hours, wasn't that long, right? You sighed as you were done laughing at your smaller boyfriend and then hugged him tightly, " I love you so much Roro, you are literally the cutest being on Earth!" you pinched his cheeks playfully, he his face grew warmer turning his cheeks red, he liked it when you called him by his nickname, it makes him feel loved and safe. Ryota laid his head on your shoulders and gave your neck a small kiss which makes you chuckle.
After you had let go Ryota, you walked out your room wobbling your way to the kitchen, Gundham was busy chopping down some green onions for the topping not noticing your presence, the smell of the Udon soup almost made your stomach growl, you loved Udon, you slowly sneaked behind Gundham's back, you tried grabbing a noodle from the udon with your bare fingers but before you could do so, Cham-p has already snitched.
" My paramour, As much as my love is endless, and I would had to see you suffer, I will not tolerate forbidding you from my immortally grand Udon, if you dare touch it." Ooo how much his voice got shivers down your spine, no wonder he often tops you and Ryota, well, it is nice making him needy in bed though when you are topping. (Author-sama died from cringe but still imagines topping Gundham but then realizes they can not do it with Gundham)
"Just a single noodle"
"I will not allow it"
"Please"
"Not in a million years S/O"
"Gunbunnnnyyyy~"
S/O used Gundham's nickname and your kinky voice, it was super effective.
"Fine! I will feed it to you!"
You clapped your hands and jumped in victory, he rubbed his hands on the red apron he is wearing to stop from getting himself dirty, he picked up a pair of chopsticks and picked up a small bite of the udon noodle and got it to your mouth which was wide open, his face flushed, from both the nickname you just called him and your cute face. You ate the bite of udon happily, you looked at him with puppy doll eyes demanding for more.
"NO!" He quickly turned the other way his face even more flushed he hid half of his face in his scarf, only making his eyes visible to go back to what he was doing beforehand.
You giggled as you left the kitchen and into the living room, you looked around for something, where is she? You looked around some more until a giant black furred fluffy newfoundland dog tackles you and licks your face, tickling your face that made you a laughing disaster, and your hero Ryota Mitarai saving you from your disaster, "I know you were worried Pomelia but get of them please, you are going to kill them" he whistled and Pomelia immediately acted like a good girl and got off you, Ryota held out his hand for you to get up which you gladly except, he pulled you up and kissed your hand.
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lewis-winters · 3 years
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Hi! i really enjoy your daemon au and i-ve gone and watched the new his dark materials series because of it. i love your take on daemons and was wondering if you have nymore headcanons for the other boys? what's luz's daemon? liptons? how do you pick their names? are there any daemons who Re the same sex as their humans? you dont have to rwply if you dont want to i just wanted to tell you i enjoy your world very much!!
Oh, hi! I’m glad you’re watching the new His Dark Materials adaptation! It’s pretty good, huh?
I do have headcanons for not just most of the boys but for the world itself. Though I also call it His Dark Materials!AU alongside daemon!AU it’s actually more the latter than the former. The only things I carried over into this AU from the original world of His Dark Materials are the existence of daemons, the fact that daemons are made of Dust particles, and the existence of witches. The magisterium or any kind of theocracy doesn’t exist. The authority and the angels also do not carry over. Instead, our own religions exist, but there’s just as much emphasis on spiritualism and mysticism as there is on moralism, which I believe would be the natural development of religion in this world where your soul/daemon, the spiritual aspect of you, is literally there for everybody else to see.
All of the boys have small or medium sized daemons, the biggest probably belonging to that of Ron and Tab, who have an Ocelot daemon and a sheepdog daemon respectively. The reason for this being that small or medium sized daemons are easily carried and they, alongside bird or other kinds of flying daemons, are preferred by the airborne. You still gotta jump out of a perfectly good airplane largely undetected. Can’t do that with an elephant daemon. 
Ok. This got real long so I’m putting the rest under the cut. tw: mentions of death, trauma, and mutilation.
Some of the younger boys’ daemons haven’t settled. Miller, Hashey, Garcia, and Jackson. Hashey and Garcia’s settle in Hageneu. Miller and Jackson never get the chance.
Shifty’s daemon, Myrtle, is a Capybara. But he doesn’t know that. Every time somebody asked him what his daemon was, he’d shrug, say ‘Don’t rightly know,’ then leave it at that. What can he do? Capybara’s aren’t native to Virginia and he’s never been out of Virginia. Webster was the one to tell him that Myrtle was a Capybara because he’d read about them in a book somewhere that one time. Myrtle was startled by this and said; “I thought I was some kind of dog!” that was one of the few times she ever spoke out-loud during the whole war.
As I’ve said before in this post, Lew’s daemon is a chameleon named Amalthea. For all of the events of episode 9, Lew kept her in his pocket and that scared almost everybody shitless, because it made it seem like he was walking around without a daemon. The replacements assigned to them around that time, like O’Keefe, thought he didn’t have a soul. He never bothered to correct them because that meant letting Amalthea out, and the idea of her being in the open and vulnerable made him especially ill. He’d rather people thought he was soulless than allow himself and Amalthea to get hurt again. Which is so Lewis.
Skip has a hummingbird daemon named Ilaria, which is a name that means happiness and joy. This daemon-human duo wasn’t hard for me to figure out. It just fits.
Malarkey’s daemon is an artic hare with a summer coat named Felis. She’s settled, but after Foy and after losing Skip and Alex and Buck, she changes again. Subtlely, of course, and not wholely. She stays an artic hare, but instead of a summer coat, she permanently has a winter coat.
It’s not uncommon in this world for your daemon to change after severe trauma. I bet as the field of psychology expands, so does the understanding of trauma’s effects on the soul expand. There’s many studies on the changing of once settled daemons in relation to soldiers’ PTSD.
Buck’s daemon, a male bald eagle named Romulus, changes entirely. Still a bird, but instead of an eagle, he turns into a snowy owl. Before the war, he was a chatty daemon. After, he barely speaks and only does so to Buck and, very rarely, to those close to them.
Eugene Sledge’s male daemon, Daecon goes from a blood hound and gets turned into a Luzon bleeding heart-- which, I know is on the nose but it’s just. It’s such a cool bird, ya’ll. I’ve seen one up-close and ever since that day, I have not known any peace. The shift would be painful and would happen very slowly. It was actually horrific and was a trauma in and of itself. That was the last time they ever changed, though.
I also headcanon that the longer you’ve been settled, the harder and more painful the shift.
Merriell Shelton’s daemon settles in Gloucester. Into what, I’m not sure yet, but a part of me thinks she’s settled into some kind of big cat from the rain forests. Either a cloud leopard or a jaguar. Her name’s Charlotte but he calls her Lottie. Don’t ask me why. It just fits.
That being said, I have some Thoughts about people with big cat daemons. They’re usually aloof. Like, they make a very impactful first impression but they’re mostly solitary individuals who are weird af and difficult to get to know. It takes a really special person to tame a human with a big cat daemon. Once you earn their trust, that’s for life. They’re also really self-assured and are very secure in their sense of self. There is almost little to no tension between big cat daemons and their humans, and if there is, it gets explosive.
Ron Speirs has a big cat daemon, a female Ocelot named Aurele. She never talks, not even to Ron. They have this silent gaze/telepathy going on. Ron also takes on a couple of animalistic traits because of it. They could also... stretch their bond really far? Which is scary as fuck. People think he’s the son of a witch who, in her desperation to make him immortal, made him go through the ritual that allows a witch and her daemon to part for long periods of time and great distances. This is not true. Ron and Aurele just have really high pain tolerance.
Eugene Roe, on the other hand, is the son of a witch. His maman, however, did not make him go through the ritual because he’s not her first son. She knows the pain of outliving her sons well. She loves him all the same but understands that he will die well before her. Eugene’s daemon is a male kinkajou named Louis. Which is both a surprise and also not. For much of the war there’s a lot of tension there. Louis craves connection with others, Roe needs isolation to keep their sanity. It kind of turns into this thing where, if you wanted to comfort Roe or be close to him, you’d have to go through his daemon instead.
Babe’s daemon is a squirrel. A very chatty female russian squirrel named Abigail. They talk to each other a lot, and Abby talks to other people a lot too. Sometimes, she even answers in lieu of Babe. They’re both very blunt and very out there, no hiding with Babe and Abby. It used to get them into a lot of trouble with the nuns at school, who believed that daemons are only meant to be seen and not heard. A+ Catholic repression.
George’s daemon was a little tricky to me. I know his daemon is female and that her name is Thalia. I also know that she can fly. My first thought was: Parrot, either a hyacinth macaw or a white cockatoo. But, I also really like the idea of George having a Butterfly daemon. Particularly one that looks like a leaf when her wings are folded up but is brilliantly jewel toned when she opens them. In the end, I opted for George entering the army, having not settled just yet, and he and Thalia are this kind of double-act, where she shifts into whatever form is necessary for the punchline of the joke. She only settles into a parrot (idk still what kind) after their first jump and all the excitement in Carentan. A gradual thing. They don’t even notice until just before the jump in Holland. When they miss someone, Thalia will mimic that person’s voice. First, it was George’s mama and the voice of her daemon, both speaking in rapid fire portugese. Later on, in Austria, Thalia starts imitating all the friends they’ve lost. Sometimes she’ll sound like Skip. Other times, she’ll sound like Bill. It takes a very long time for her to break this habit. To the point wherein she and George don’t even remember what her real voice sounds like.
Lip’s daemon settled really early and is a female Bonobo named Jane. Has been since he was ten and made man of the house. This, like Skip and Ilaria, was very easy for me to figure out.
Dick’s daemon is a Caracara raptor bird. I’m still figuring out the specifics so she doesn’t have a name yet. Sorry.
As mentioned, Tab has a sheepdog daemon named Marisa who enjoys keeping him and everybody else in check. Have you met a sheepdog? They will literally herd you. It doesn’t matter if you are not a lamb or a sheep. They will nip at your heels until you go where they want to go. That’s Marisa. She’ll nip at Tab’s heels, she’ll nip at everybody else’s heels. If you are going somewhere she does not want you to go she will make sure you know her displeasure. 
It is also super funny when she looks Tab in the eye and goes “Down, boy.” It never fails to make Tab go red and make everybody else laugh. 
Harry’s daemon-- and don’t get mad at me-- but Harry’s daemon is a Scottish Terrier named Saoirse. He carries her around strapped to his chest during jumps. It’s fucking cute. Don’t say that to their faces though because they will lose all respect for you. It’s a daemon suited more to a teacher than it is to a soldier, that’s for sure.
Bill’s daemon is a pit-bull named Darla. Scary looking one, too, with a very bawdy sense of humor. She will growl at you and pretend to bite and you will be very scared but she only does it as a joke. She’s honestly really cool. When Bill and Babe are walking around together, Abby likes to perch on top of Darla’s head. It’s adorable. Sometimes, when Abby gets too much, Darla carries her around in her mouth. It’s still cute. But only to them, everybody else finds it vaguely horrifying.
I know there’s this taboo of humans not touching other humans’ daemons but it’s kinda difficult in such close-quarters like theirs. It is also heavily implied in the original text of Philip Pullman, that the no-touching thing is a cultural thing. Like, I think in religions that deal a lot in repression like Catholicism or Protestantism, the touching of another’s daemon is a no-no and is only reserved for the most intimate of relations (i.e. marriage). But I feel like religions such as Judaism, Wiccan, Paganism, or even some branches of Folk-Catholicism encourage touch/celebrate that connection between two humans. Neither of these two beliefs are wrong, of course. It’s just a cultural thing and they carry with them both pros and cons.
I bet Lieb grew up very used to his daemon being touched by his mother and father or older siblings. It’s not taboo to him, though he recognizes that it’s taboo to others. He doesn’t get it though, and is constantly rolling his eyes every time somebody gasps when they accidentally touch someone’s daemon.
A lot of the boys just kinda ignore the touching daemons thing until they get used to it.
I’m not sure what Lieb’s daemon is or what her name is, too. I know she’s a social kind of daemon-- not solitary like a big cat or a reptile (like snakes). I thought maybe a wolf, but a wolf daemon is too... large and there are a lot of connotations attached to it. I think Lieb’s daemon is something medium-sized and unassuming. Not a dog. Not a domestic cat either. A part of me thinks flightless bird, but no. Not that either. Give me time. I’ll figure her out. As of now, I’m thinking either a marsupial or a canidae/fox but not quite. She’s a mammal, that much I know. Just don’t know what kind.
Grant’s daemon is a male domestic cat named Saladin. He’s either an Abyssinian or a Bengal. Either way, he’s really cool. Like super cool. They’re both super duper cool.
And... that’s kinda it. That’s all I have for now. I’m really sorry it got so long, anon. I get really excited when talking about daemons. It’s character study but with animals! Thank you for giving me this opportunity to ramble. This is where I leave you.
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httpbread · 4 years
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Hey there again!! I was wondering if I could request another dialogue prompt scenario with Hanako x Fem!Reader again with #33 "I only ever thought there were two kinds of love: The kind you would kill for, and the kind you would die for... but for you, my darling, you are the kind of love I would live for" and #34 "I want you. All of you, and not just half-heartedly, wholly. And maybe that's selfish, but I don't care." It can be past Hanako or present, your choice! Thank you again!! 👻👻👻
Pairing: Hanako x reader
Words: 7048 (mistakes have been made)
T/W: death mention, injury mention,a bit angsty but with a happy ending
On god I’ve written more than 10k for this bad boy with the amount that i have  edited and cut and rewritten but i have finally finished it. sorry it took so long!!
-
“Kisses can’t fix everything you know."
This was exactly why she found herself sitting on the floor of the third-floor girl’s bathroom, the door locked and a first aid kit spread out before her.
"Amane-"
"Please."
The alcohol-soaked cotton ball falters in her fingers at the desperation in his soft voice.
"Can’t we just talk about something else?"
She peers up at him under her lashes briefly. Lucky or unlucky, the boy refused to return the gesture, staring stubbornly off, a crinkle in his brow and a weight in his lips.
(Y/n) looks back down at her work, but not without muttering, "Only when you stop bringing me all these cuts and bruises..."
She knows he’s going to huff and puff, so she interrupts before he can, hoping a change of topic might put him in a better mood, "Because of you, I talked to someone about medical school today."
Amane utters immediately, "Huh?"
"Tsuchigomori-san thinks I should look into becoming a doctor," she keeps her gaze fixed on the cut she was treating, delicately dabbing it clean with the cotton ball, "I’m inclined to believe him."
Her friend is quiet and so is she, working methodically as ever.
"You’re good at what you do..." he mumbles, scarcely loud enough for her to hear over the unending silence of the afternoon bathroom.
"I know," she responds, adding pointedly, "You give me plenty of practice."
Glancing up, she catches his sour look with her small, sly smile. Sour, sour, sour those eyes were. Like two little lemons glaring back at her. Not intimidating in the slightest.
"That’s low," he enlightens her, making her snort under her breath.
Was it really considered a low blow to point out the truth staring them both in the face?
She lets out a long breath, the air slipping slowly from her lips as she returns her focus to the task at her hands.
"It’s only because of you," she reaches over for the antibiotic ointment, muttering, "If it were anyone else, I never would’ve taken any interest in first aid."
Squeezing the small tube so it oozes the gel onto her finger, she then brings it to the back of his hand, ever so gently smearing it onto the cut, "I would’ve never even thought twice about what I was doing."
She never would’ve been so careful.
After all, she’d grown up always having to be cutthroat and serious to get things done. She never had time to just slow down and look at things. There were a million things she had to strikeout. She was meant to act better than a machine, quick, efficient, and perfect.
And yet...
Even if it didn’t come naturally to (Y/n), Amane showed her that there was a need in the world for that kind of softness she all too often crushed and buried away.
Unknowingly, he had taught her many things over the course of their sometimes rocky friendship, but most of all... He taught her that she couldn't get through all her life constantly acting sharp and rigid.
Her wandering thoughts fizzle with the feeling of his eyes trained on her.
"Because we’re friends...?"
For a moment, she forgets herself. She’d gotten lost in her thoughts.
The words left a bittersweet taste in her mouth regardless... Soft on him because they were friends... How peachy.
She avoids his gaze, retrieving a bandaid for the last of his injuries, "Because I care about you, Amane. I don’t want to hurt you, so it’s made me slow down and think more."
While her words were no lie, they were nowhere near the whole truth, either.
However...
A subtle curve tugs at her lips.
"And..."
She can’t help but tease him.
"I realized that every time I help some hurt stranger... that they’re just like you."
He scoffs lightly, those narrowed amber eyes snapping up to meet hers, "In what way? You’re saying every stranger and I are the same to you?"
She shakes her head with a small laugh at his flare of thinly veiled jealousy. Geez. Someone was feeling a little defensive today.
"No. They just remind me of you," she admits, gazing down at his hand for a moment, her own absently stilled, "and then I know that someone out there is probably worried sick about their idiot."
She knew she was always worried about him, at least.
"Oh..."
She brushes over this matter with a new one.
"I’ll be in school for a really long time," she comments, busying herself with unwrapping the bandaid crinkling noisily between her fingers.
"And...?" He trails off, waiting.
"No. That’s all," she carefully slides the bandage out and places it over the cut on his hand, ever so lightly smoothing it out, "I just wanted to hear your thoughts on it."
Despite whatever thoughts and situations faced them, they were childhood friends after all. It made sense that she would care about his opinion... but maybe not as much as she ultimately did.
"Well, I think..." he’s quiet for a moment, searching for words, "I think you’d make a great doctor."
This makes the smile on her lips grow as she looks up at him, watching him gaze down at their hands, a thoughtful look marking his handsome features.
"You’re already good at scolding."
This makes her pause.
‘Bastard.’ She wants to huff at him.
And yet, instead, she pulls his hand up, (e/c) eyes flicking up to meet his quickly narrowing golden ones. She pays no mind to the suspecting look on his face and places an ever so soft kiss the bandaid she had just applied.
(Y/n) watches in silent delight as that familiar rose color blossoms across his pale cheeks.
She slowly sets his hand back down, though not releasing it from hers, muttering finally, "I suppose so."
She then gives his hand a squeeze, smirking a little, "Maybe I’ll even learn how to get my scolding through especially thick skulls like yours."
She couldn’t just let him slander her like that and get off completely scot-free.
"Okay, now you’re just being mean," he decides, stealing his hand away from her to cross his arms over his chest. Which, he was right, but only a little.
She only continues to smirk at him, undeterred.
"Says you," she notes, amusement lingering in her lowered tone, "You want away from me so bad you’re skipping planets."
"The moon is not a planet," he utters, scandalized by her words, his eyes sparkling a little with the way they widen incredulously, only allowing more light in their golden-colored depths.
She waves her hand dismissively, biting back her teasing smile, "Ah, right, right. Dwarf planet, yeah?"
(Y/n) turns her head away, adding the sprinkles to the top of her deceit before he can hastily protest, "Well, I guess since you’re kicking me to the curb, maybe I should find some rich husband to keep me company during my studies. Someone new I can take care of."
"Absolutely not!" Amane declares.
He was right, of course, but she was more than happy to let him think so highly of her. Her sharp tongue would never allow such a thing.
"Why not? Can’t you see it now?" She tilts her head at him, bringing a pointer finger to each corner of her lips and drawing them up in an award-winning smile, "Me, a trophy wife, a trophy husband, both fabulously rich. Three dogs. Maybe a kid."
He wears a look on his face that’s quite the opposite of hers, "Of course I can."
The sudden admission makes her falter in surprise.
"I just don’t want to," his eyes avoided hers.
She slowly lowers her hands, before setting them back in her lap.
"Then you need to get your eyes checked," she retorts bluntly, "The day I find someone who can tolerate me is the day hell freezes over."
Her eyes calmly find the amber ones now trying to burn holes in her.
"You, on the other hand..."
She can’t help her adoring smile.
"You’re going places, Amane."
She laughs a little to hide the slight embarrassment gripping her, eyes drawing to the window, "I mean, more than just the moon. I could see you going anywhere you put your mind to..."
The sun looks like it’s beginning to set, casting brilliant shades of oranges and yellows through the window to make the bathroom.
Yet, the sunset puts no hurry in her unmoving feet. She was sure Amane would walk her home, dark or not. He may be stubborn, and they did argue a lot, but he was loyal.
"Not without you."
She blinks.
"I’m not going anywhere without you, (Y/n)."
She turns to look at him, feeling almost incredulous.
"That’s a funny thing to say," she utters, cupping her cheek, trying to play it off to soothe her beating heart, "I know we’ve been friends for a long time, Amane, but..."
Her face softens with a teasing little smile at him, "Aren’t you tired of me yet?"
However, he doesn’t smile back, almost glaring at her like she’s said something stupid- sort of like when she muddled facts about the moon, except missing that shock factor, now replaced with something more firm.
"No."
He looks down at his hands as she blinks twice.
"I want you."
Her lungs abruptly come to a silent halt.
"All of you, (Y/n)."
Especially when he’s suddenly moving closer, taking her face in his kind hands, "Not just half-heartedly, but wholly."
For once, no protests come tumbling past her lips. She couldn’t even think of any. She almost wasn’t sure she had any.
He swallows, giving away his nerves, but doing nothing to stop those big beautiful eyes from burning bright.
"And maybe- maybe that’s selfish, but I don’t care."
She forces her lungs to work again, almost robotically evicting the breath from her chest.
But she can’t look away from him.
Or keep the big smile from curving at her lips as she leans forward, ignoring her nervous heart as she places her hands on either side of his face.
"(Y/n)...?" He whispers, voice quiet but his pitch is higher than usual, giving away his fear if she didn’t see the obvious terror glittering in his eyes.
"Oh, Amane..." she closes her eyes, leaning her forehead against his, "You’re an idiot."
The slight hitch of his breath makes her audibly clue him in.
"I’m already yours," she won’t bite her tongue now. He opened up to her, and she’d be damned if she didn’t meet him halfway- if not further. "I’ve been yours for a long time now."
She pulls away- but only a little. Just so she can look at him again.
He still hasn’t seemed to have closed those eyes of his, trained on her unwaveringly, surprise dancing in their shimmering depths.
They meet hers, and her heart feels full.
"I’m not sure if I should be hurt that you just called me an idiot when I’m vulnerable..." he elucidates, making her grin further, "Or just be happy that you feel the same."
"Well, I’d say..." she slides her arms past his neck, coiling around him and drawing him in close like the snake she is, "Take what you can get."
He responds by pulling her just as near with a light tug on her uniform, tilting his head a little to seal their words with a warm kiss- and (Y/n) couldn't be happier to follow.
Neither of them could have ever guessed what had lied in store for them, however.
They were both so bright and ready to take on the world by each other’s side, with hands held and fingers intertwined.
Neither of them ever thought that the future would be three graves sitting in a neat little row next to each other, not even two weeks later.
Everything had slipped between their fingers in an instant. They were a snap- two fingers slipping past each other, perfect at first until the friction caught up to them. With just a single little bang, they were far apart once again, as though they had never met in the first place.
No fairytale wedding on the moon. No handing out lollipops to patients. No graduating. No nothing.
Every inkling of a dream they had built came crashing down abruptly, leaving nothing but carnage and broken hearts.
—-
(Y/n) tugged at the bandage.
"Oi!"
"Oi!" She mocks in a higher pitch.
The blond mean mugs her.
She spits his look right back at him.
"Baby," she comments tartly, looking back down at her work, "If you want to start making complaints, stop getting hurt, why don’t you?"
Just about every day this kid kept coming back to her!
Sure, she knew he was an exorcist and all that and a cherry on top, but she also knew one boy wasn’t getting into all of this trouble by himself.
Almost made her want to march right up to that bathroom and give that mystery a piece of her mind.
Mystery number seven...
That damned boy.
"Hey! Hey! Hey!"
"My bad," she quickly removes her hands.
Yeah. Okay. That time was actually her bad. That bandage was looking a teensy bit tight.
"Distracted, doc?"
Doc.
"No."
She looks down at his wrist, gently loosening the bandage on it.
(Y/n) (L/n) was not a doctor, nor would she ever become one.
However, the school had a funny way of taunting her, withholding her as the rumored mystery number eight- the medical mystery, it so happened.
Mostly, her job consisted of patrolling around and taking care of the living idiots. Fixing them up, popping a sucker in their mouth to shut them up, before she was on her way again.
The rest of her official job as a mystery consisted of gathering... specific- er, well, exotic goods, like mermaid scales for example, and things of that nature.
It wasn’t much, but it tended to keep her busy.
Well, that was a lie. Her job was all she had. Not to mention it wasn’t an easy one either. Sticking with the previous example, Mermaids weren’t exactly jumping all over the idea of showering her with their lovely little scales. Despite being a healer, her line of work got her into more fights than not.
"So... do I still get a sucker...?"
She blinks, looking up at the blond, realizing she was zoning out again.
"Hah?"
He smiles at her, nonetheless, a smile much like the sun, in the way that it makes her squint and look away.
"Yeah, whatever," she huffs, reaching into her apron.
She retrieves a handful.
"What flavor?" She shoves it at him, not at all intending to help him choose or find said flavor.
Okay, so maybe the candy wasn’t a required part of her job, but hey, a little bribery never hurt.
She’d much rather be rumored as the helpful little medic with the candy than the crazed doctor butcherer or something.
"Wh- Oi! Only one!" She slaps his hand away, glaring venomously as he laughs.
"Please, (L/n)-san!" He beams at her, bright as ever, not exactly begging, "The mokke are hungry too."
She looks down, not at all surprised at the gathering of pink bunny-like creatures at her feet.
"Right, right. Sorry."
She then promptly offers them the biggest smile she can muster, hoping to display just how sorrowful she was for them.
"Maybe I should start practicing my veterinary skills too!"
And just like that, they’re running for the hills, no more pink creatures crowding her, not even within her sights. It’s almost impressive.
She drops the smile along with the rest of the lollipops back into her frilly ivory apron in exchange for her usual deadpan expression, "Thought so."
But she notices there’s one particular annoyance left standing.
"What do you want, boy?" She drops a hand on her hip and her head to the side, (e/c) eyes narrowing "Got some internal bleeding or something I’m not seeing?"
He gives his head a shake, sending his spiky blonde locks bouncing.
"No. I was just thinking."
She comments immediately, "Well, I’m not into studying therapy either. Move along."
However, he only chuckles at this, amused as though she didn’t completely mean it.
"Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice?"
She looks up at the boy, and contrary to him, she is further unamused.
He only continues to smile at her, undeterred as ever, blue eyes bright with life.
"Maybe," she offers him a shrug, "I’m not a doctor."
(Y/n) decides she likes the way his whole face scrunches up when she pokes his nose, like she pressed some kind of button, "The only thing I am, is dead."
"Well, I think you’re very kind," he says, arguing his own point.
She flashes him a funny look. He was the one who implied she wasn’t nice. She just confirmed that theory. She agreed with him! So, why the hell did he feel the need to continue arguing with her? ... himself? She wasn’t even sure. What a weirdo this one was.
"You just show you’re kind in the way that you’re really mean and you nag a lot."
For a moment, the words make her falter.
For a moment, all she can see is loving amber eyes framed by long dark lashes and darker choppy locks.
For a moment.... they sound so much like something he would say to her...
"It just means you care! And you have a big repressed heart under all those sour looks!"
There’s a finger in her face, snapping her from those melancholy memories. She promptly brushes it away to reveal the scowl marking her lips.
"Yeah? Then explain why I don’t care, then."
But he’s on his feet now, waving away this idea as he grabs his bag, "You do. That’s why you help me all the time!"
No.
That was mostly so Teru didn’t exorcise that idiot no. 7. If he saw all the cuts and bruises Kou got from working under him...
Well, not that she cared about that idiot either.
As far as she was concerned, all these boys were idiots- and she was just going to calmly stay in her lane, away from them all!
That number seven boy was nothing to her except a poor excuse for a boss and distant memories.
The other blond was just a slightly taller menace.
And this smiling idiot was nothing but that. An idiot.
...
......
And… maybe just a little bit of a friend as well...
She waves to him.
"Don’t come back," she says to him.
Yet, he responds cheerfully, waving excitedly, "I’ll see you tomorrow, (L/n)-san!"
-
Tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes.
Week in. Week out.
It was all the same to her.
She did her job. She helped students. She got what she needed. She finished her work.
She kept herself busy and never glanced his way.
That was how it was.
That’s how it was supposed to be.
That’s how it always was.
"Long time no see, (N/n)-chan!"
But that familiar voice shattered any vague sense of order she had gathered over the fifty years since she had last heard it.
There’s a black patch on his cheek now, but changing the cover of a book didn’t change its wicked contents.
Nor did it remove the pages stained with her blood.
"You look well," he tells her, voice high with a giggle, "How old are you now? Sixty? Seventy?"
(Y/n) flinches as his lithe fingers brush her cheeks with unseen stains coating them, but she can’t move away. Her feet have sunken into the concrete below, holding her in place as her chest seizes, ever nerve lighting on fire with the need to disappear.
"You really don’t look it!" He tells her, and she can only watch as his lips pull up to reveal his sharp fangs, "Nope, nope! You don’t look a day past your last living one."
Her lips part almost desperately, but there’s a weight on her tongue and a knot in her throat that squanders any attempt for the words she already lacks.
"Or- well, your second to last day."
His fingers brush past her face to trace through her (h/l) (h/c) locks, a thoughtful hum trickling into her ears "You weren’t much to look at in your last moments, were you?"
As he pulls back his hand, her knees wobble, threatening to slip out from under her.
"Or should I say there wasn’t much left of you to look at?"
"T-Tsukasa-" It’s only one word but it leaves her nearly gasping, the weight on her chest more than paralyzing.
"Hmm~?"
She meets his eyes and finds her scarcely gathered will crumbling instantly.
Those big honey-hued eyes that could so quickly go from looking like someone she loved so dearly to narrowing, squinting as though he needed glasses, reminding her they belonged to something, someone different that was much more sinister.
"(N/n)-chan..." He says suddenly.
His voice is no longer light and airy.
It’s cold, detached, and the exact sound of all her hopes of coming out of this unscathed shattering at once.
"You know why I’m here, don’t you?"
-
"(L/n)-san!"
Kou wears a big smile as he marches into the elusive number eight’s boundary.
He was going to show her today!
Because today, Kou did not have a single bruise on him!
The second he finished up with Hanako and found his feet pulling him instinctively back to the apparition’s boundary, the realization hit him like a train.
Knowing he was perfectly fine, for once, he found himself practically racing to get to her boundary, ready to rub it in her pretty face that he could take care of himself! She’d know now that he was cool and didn’t always need her to baby him.
"(L/n)-san, you’ll never guess!" He throws back another patient’s curtain.
Only to once again reveal nothing but an empty hospital bed.
However, with half of the nurse’s office still unexplored, there was still plenty of possibility for the apparition to appear.
That’s what he told himself.
But deep down, a strange feeling was cuddling in his stomach.
(L/n) was always in her boundary right now.
She’d never admit it, but he knew it was so she could be here to patch him up after his duties with Hanako.
And sure, they didn’t always stay in the office when she fixed him back up, but they always met here.
So, throwing back the last curtain...
"(L/n)-san?"
His brows are knitted together as he asks the air around him.
Where the hell was she?
-
"I’m telling you! She’s missing! Vanished! Disappeared! Gone!"
Hanako draws a card from the deck sitting between him and the mokke in the third-floor bathroom’s window sill.
He places it down with the collection of cards littered in the space before him.
"Your move," he comments quietly.
"Hanako!"
He swallows.
Hanako should have known better.
He should have kept the boy away from her just as he kept himself away from her.
When Kou had first come to him about the pretty spirit he had stumbled upon- he had almost hit the nail right on the head, killing what could come from such an introduction instantly.
But he didn’t.
Because deep down, Hanako couldn’t keep away from her.
He needed some kind of tie- some measly form of connection to her- he longed for it, ached for it, craved it...
Until it came to him in the form of Kou, and his friendship with the medical mystery.
Kou was an open book. Especially when it came to (Y/n). One little question and he was rambling about the spirit. How she seemed, what she had scolded him about that day, how mean she was, how kind she was, how beautiful she was.
Jealousy would stick to his lungs like tar, making him feel sicker with longing than any cigarette would. The boy would talk about her like she put the stars in the sky- and would wonder to him just how she did it, a question he had been asking himself for over fifty years.
But on the other hand, hearing about her was refreshing. It was like a drop of water a second away from dying in a desert. He couldn't ever get enough of her. She was an addiction he could never quite get his fix of but sure as hell couldn’t get rid of either.
"Are you even listening to me?"
He was.
"I told you! She’s gone, Hanako!"
She was. She had been gone for fifty damned years.
Fifty years and he still didn’t have a single solid idea of what to do about it now.
"What if she’s in danger, or she needs help, or-"
"She’s dead."
The words leave a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He’s not talking to the boy.
But he responds, none the wiser.
"And?"
His eyes flicker over to the blond.
Kou stands tall as ever, his fists curled tightly at his sides, a burning emotion in his icy eyes that he didn’t even want to unpack.
"Dead or not, she could still need help."
He couldn’t even help her the first time she needed it.
What was he supposed to do now?
"Please, Hanako," Kou pleads, voice low with despair, "If something happened to her I would never forgive myself."
Hanako sighs at this.
Something had already happened to her once and Hanako still hadn’t forgiven himself.
He pushes to his feet.
"Only a quick look."
-
(Y/n) choked on her own breath, shoes slamming hard against the linoleum floor she’d known her whole life. The hall she’d walk to her classes in, linger in with old friends before everything hit the fan. The halls that once only held the danger of being late due to bustling crowds.
Burning liquid seeped between her trembling fingers as she pressed them firmer over her wound, a sharp gasp pushing past her already parted lips.
She just had to make it to the nurse’s office, her boundary.
Tsukasa couldn’t kill her there. Not as easily anyways.
The staircase was within sight.
She struggled to wedge a glance over her shoulder, fingers slipping from her wound slightly, making her grip her shoulder tighter.
Tsukasa only gazed after her blankly, dull eyes looking black, narrowed as he advanced, efficient and deadly in the way that he moved along after her.
A cry caught in her throat as she whipped her head back around.
The staircase! That was-
Oh god.
A dirty shoelace caught under a frantic foot.
The staircase greeted her greedily, peppering her face with kisses as it yanked her into its arms despite her protesting choked scream, wet hand slipping right off her injury as she desperately searched for something to hold, something to grab, something to save her as she came tumbling down.
But nothing could save her.
Nothing could ever save (Y/n).
She slammed roughly against where the stairs met the wall and turned, thrusting her hands out instinctively to claw at the wall in hopes of stopping only to accidentally shove herself down the rest of the depths.
Her butt met the stairs first this time when she hit, and she could only watch in blurry horror when suddenly her feet were soaring over her head- the next moment managing to slam her face against the floor again.
Fate was cruel.
Her head was spinning as she fought the earthquakes consuming her, forcing herself up on her hands and knees to stare down at a bloody floor. She needed to get a grip and she needed to get one fast.
Yet- her movements were painfully slow as she sat up and back on her knees, blinking the clouds from her eyes as she tried to look up, past the ringing in her ears.
Tsukasa descended the stairs in a much calmer fashion, grinning as he hopped down the last two- or four if her vision was anything to go by.
However, in truth, there was nothing to be done.
Her pounding head had been clogged with honey. Her limbs felt tingly from blood loss and the revenants of adrenaline. She was struggling just to blink in place.
Tsukasa smiled at her almost sweetly.
"Are you done?"
But they both knew the answer to that.
This story unraveling between them has already been written before.
She lifted her hands up to the crouched boy.
His smile curled into a grin as he grew ever closer to devour her as a whole.
But (Y/n)’s hands stopped at his chest and so did he.
She pressed. Pushing him.
Away. Away. Away.
It’s all her foggy brain could come up with in that moment.
His chest vibrates under her blood stained fingertips with a warm laugh.
It’s burning.
Scalding. Scalding. Scalding.
"Oh, (N/n)-chan... is that it?"
A labored breath falls past her lips.
"Is that all you’ve got?"
She squints up at him under the harsh lights above, fighting to give him the nasty look she so longed to give him- along with a piece of her mind.
She forces her lips apart, taking in a shaky breath.
"(L/n)-san!"
Tsukasa hums, mirroring her surprise at the sudden interruption.
"Now you’ve done it," he tells her with a bored sigh, "You’ve gotten us both caught."
If he didn’t want to get caught, then maybe he shouldn’t always be trying to kill her.
That’s what she wants to snap at him.
But her face twists, body erupting into flame thinly veiled by the adrenaline rushing back into her veins as the cruel boy drags her up onto her unable feet.
"What did you do to her?!"
Adrenaline or not- she feels like screaming out as he pulls her bad arm around his shoulders, draping her like some kind of shawl, his other arm coiled around her waist with a vice-like grip.
"Oh, nothing much really!" His singsong voice makes her head ache, "Nothing compared to what I want to."
"Can’t you at least lie?" She hisses through her clenched teeth, wincing too hard to even look at him as she desperately tries to will the pain away.
"Lying is bad, (N/n)-chan!" He huffs and she doesn’t even need to lift her head to see his sour pout.
"So is being mean to girls."
Tsukasa and herself have very different reactions to this voice.
"AMANE!"
She blinks her eyes harshly, not able to catch herself from looking up for him.
The blur dissolves from her gaze, leaving her with the sight of an all too familiar boy.
Amane stands in the wake, cape flowing out behind him. Those short choppy black locks tucked under his cap, amber eyes almost glowing as they peer under the brim. They’re almost narrowed as sharp as the kitchen knife clutched in his hand, knuckles tinted white with effort.
She realizes then that she hasn’t caught such a glimpse of him in a while now.
Of course, the way their shattered connection- or lack of to be more precise- that wasn’t an odd occurrence at all. It was expected.
But she remained like a broken record player, the stylus still catching at the old cracks in her heart.
Even more knowing that this situation was almost all too familiar.
"Aren’t you the one who was always saying (N/n)-chan was special?" She flinches in surprise, snapped right out of her thoughts as a hand grips her face, fingers digging into the soft squish of her cheeks, turning her head. She blinks rapidly, meeting those inquisitive golden eyes. "So- she’s not just any girl."
A scowl makes its way to her lips as she tries to tug her face away from his unbudging hand.
"Let her go, Tsukasa. This isn’t about her and you know it."
Tsukasa looks away from her at this, releasing her head, "Oh, Amane. That’s rich."
His arm around her waist squeezes warningly, "(N/n)-chan and I are friends too, y’know! You should learn to share!"
What a damned hypocrite.
"Friends don’t hurt each other!"
She almost wishes her fun road trip down the stairs had fully knocked her out.
Swaying useless on her feet, pounding head victim to the yelling around her- it was almost more hellish than the stab wound in her shoulder and that was saying something.
"Don’t you listen, boy?" Tsukasa sighs as she lifts her hand, trying to be subtle.
Her shitty plan was to try and push him away again.
But he only snatched it up, before it could even reach him halfway, giving it a squeeze.
"(N/n)-chan and I share a special bond!"
Yeah, it’s called ‘death’- which is what all murderers and their victims shared.
She tries to wiggle her fingers free from him but he turns to her with an unsettling grin, "Isn’t that right?"
She does reply.
"Get off me." 
It’s just not the one he’s looking for.
Tsukasa sighs, shaking his head with a pout.
She didn’t actually expect her request to work though.
But her head slamming back against the ground again is a sure-fire sign that he had let her go.
"Whoopsie daisy," he chirps as her vision swims.
She can vaguely make out his figure, towering over her.
But those eyes glaring down at her are unmistakable.
For a moment, staring up at him like this, panic stirs in her heart.
The sight was a carbon copy of the one as she was met with as she took her last breath fifty years ago.
The only difference this time was that she was already dead before her heavy lids sank shut.
-
It’s almost homely what greets her as she creeps away from oblivion.
Though, not what most would consider homely.
After all, the stinging smell of antiseptic and the blinding lights unavoidable even behind closed eyes were as impersonal as impersonal things could get.
But they were something (Y/n) knew well.
So, she wasn’t at all surprised when she finally willed herself to crack open her eyelids only to find a shitty poster staring back at her.
It was the kitten one.
‘Don’t forget to wash your paws!’.
(Y/n) is glaring at it miserably when she hears it.
"You’re awake."
"No shit," she croaks, but people always said she was ambitious- which is why she closes her eyes in hopes of falling back unconscious.
Anything to escape the shitshow she had escaped the first time by doing so.
Speaking of which...
"What happened?"
She almost doesn’t want to know.
He answers.
"That should be the least of your worries right now."
It’s not the answer she wants.
Her eye twitches, but she fights to keep them closed, still hanging onto the idea of sleep.
"You do realize when you tell someone not to worry they do exactly that?"
"I didn’t tell you not to worry. I just said that shouldn’t be your biggest worry."
She doesn’t respond.
He jabs.
"I don’t think you’ve ever stopped worrying for a second of your life."
She opens her eyes at this.
But not very much due to her glare which she turns her head to the side to give him.
Amane sits at her bedside, a chair dragged up next to her. He’s got his arms crossed resting on the mattress, his head nestled atop them.
Those eyes catch her own.
She looks away, a tired sigh slipping from her lips.
She looks for something to fill the silence.
Anything, really.
She just doesn’t want to be left alone with him. Left alone with her thoughts.
Left alone with thoughts of him.
"Who did this chop job?"
She finds conversation in the bandages wrapped around her arm/shoulder where Tsukasa had stabbed her. She sure they had never even so much as watched one of those stupid hot doctor shows before playing doctor on her.
"Me."
She looks up at him again, surprise pricking her.
She blinks at him as he holds her gaze again.
"You used to patch me up all the time... I must have picked up a thing or two."
"No, you didn’t," she squints at him, a scowl pulling at her lips, "This is the worst dressing I’ve ever seen- and I’m self-taught."
Her words linger in the air but are smothered by the silence after them.
They only gaze at each other for the longest time.
Before she watches the corners of Amane’s lips uncontrollably tug upward.
He quickly looks away.
"Really? I saved you and that’s the first thing you tell me?"
"Do better then," she turns away too, sticking her nose up as she utters, "Maybe open your ears and listen for once and I wouldn’t always have to scold you."
But she’s stunned, staring off as his soft chuckle sneaks into her ears.
When was the last time she had heard him laugh...?
She’s still as her hand is lifted.
Squeezed lightly.
"How do you feel? Can I get you anything?"
She can’t help but turn back to him.
She must look as sad as she feels because his face falls.
(Y/n) swallows, speaking up before he can.
"No. I’m fine."
But he still holds her hand in his.
Watching her.
Waiting.
But for what?
She was waiting too. Gazing right back. But she didn’t know either.
"I’m sorry."
She did know this wasn’t what she wanted, however.
He wears a deep frown, a vulnerable sparkle in his honey shaded depths as he looks down, holding her hand tighter.
"I knew he was back," he’s almost mumbling. If they were even an inch further apart she was sure she wouldn’t be able to hear him. "I just... I didn’t think he would find you so soon."
Her heart weighs.
She sighs, squeezing his hand.
"Amane, I’ve told you already."
She gazes down at their hands, telling him again.
"It’s not your fault. It’s not your job to protect me."
He never stays quiet after these words.
"It is. You should never have gotten hurt in the first place. I should’ve-"
She interrupts tiredly, "-Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. It’s been fifty years."
"You might be able to change the future- but the past is the past," (Y/n) reaches out with her other hand, gently hooking her fingers under his chin to get him to look up at her, "Amane."
He reluctantly shifts his eyes up to find her (e/c) ones gazing deeply.
"There’s nothing to be done. Let it go."
She watches his brows pull together.
"I don’t want to let it go," he says firmly, lacing his fingers with hers, "I don’t want to let you go."
She lets out a quiet breath, "I’m already gone."
He winces.
She’s unhesitating as she tells him, "But you weren’t supposed to be. You were supposed to live."
This was the part where he snapped at her. This was the part where they usually began to fight.
This was the part where they fought, got mad at each other, and then proceeded to avoid each other for the next ten years.
"Back then..."
His voice is low, tentative.
"I only ever thought there were two kinds of love."
She looks down, watching as his thumb runs along hers, listening to his careful words.
"The kind you would kill for," she immediately jerks her eyes back up to meet his, but he avoids her eyes, still looking down, "and the kind you would die for."
Well...
She guesses that was understandable to think given the rocky road of what their relationship had been.
"But I realize now... for you..."
He finally looks up at her, eyes gentle as they greet hers.
"You are the kind of love I would live for."
His words stun her.
So much that she’s genuinely speechless for the first time in a long, long while.
Amane seems to grow a little nervous with her silence, now looking down again, toying with her hand limp in his.
"Well..." she finally finds her voice.
And a scolding as she reaches forward to knock her fist atop his hat.
"It’s a little too late for that!" She tells him sternly, almost exasperatedly, "Fifty years? Couldn’t you have thought of that before you died?"
"Wh- Hey! Don’t be mean!" He glowers, trying to brush her whacking hands away.
But she leans forward just as quickly, yanking him ruthlessly into a hug.
"You idiot!" She huffs at him, despite the way she squeezes him tight.
It’s like a breath of fresh air- acting on age-old cravings like this.
Sometimes when you wanted something and found yourself longing for it- it sounded way better than what it actually was.
But this was exactly as she remembered it.
A big smile breaks out onto her lips, which she’s able to bury in the crook of his neck again, just like she once had. She melts like putty as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.
"I know," he grumbles sourly, admitting defeat, "I’m sorry."
"You better be," she says, uncaring that her words are muffled.
"If I say I’m stupid will you forgive me...?"
She pulls away from him after carefully masking her smile.
He blinks at her stony expression, worries instantly finding him.
She can’t help but give into temptation.
"You know, I’m pretty sure I read in one of my biology textbooks that kisses make everything better."
His anxieties melt right off his face- leaving him almost offended for a moment that she was teasing him now of all times.
But he smiles, running his hand up along her back to cradle the back of her neck.
"Oh?" He pulls her in close, and she can feel his breath tickle her upturning lips, "Well- I may suck at bandages, but I’m actually pretty great at kissing."
"Yeah?" Her eyes flicker up to meet his under her lashes.
He responds by closing the minuscule gap between them, his movements almost too sweet as she melts into them.
He was right. He was pretty great at kissing.
415 notes · View notes
itsyourchoice-hp · 3 years
Text
Year 2: Christmas at the Burrow
Cath climbed the steps to the Owlery, the snow crunching under her feet. There were only two weeks left in the term. In her hand she clutched a letter addressed to her parents, asking if she could spend some of the Christmas holidays at the Weasley’s house. Both Harry and Hermione were going to spend the full break there, and Ron had invited both Cath and Draco to join.
She knew that her parents would definitely say no to staying for the whole break, but Cath hoped that they would be in high spirits when they got her letter and allowed her to spend a few days. Although her parents didn’t talk too much about the Weasleys, she knew that her parents had differing opinions on them.
In general, her father was a part of circles made up of mostly wealthy, Pureblood witches and wizards. Though the Weasleys were a Pureblood family, Father had some strong opinions about Mr. Weasley’s fascination with Muggles and how he treated them as equal to himself. Truthfully, Cath didn’t know enough about Muggles to really form an opinion about them. She had never even met or talked to a Muggle before. Mother didn’t say much on the matter but didn’t seem to disapprove of Cath’s friendships with the Weasleys, or with Hermione, who was a Muggle-born witch.
When Cath opened the door to the Owlery, she saw Harry tying a letter to the claw of his snowy owl, Hedwig. He glanced over, and upon realizing it was Cath, waved. Hedwig hooted at him irritably.
“Alright, alright,” Harry said. He finished tying the letter and then let her take off, soaring out of one of the wide windows. “Hi, Cath.”
“Hello,” she replied, approaching one of the school owls, a small brown one with bright brown eyes. It pecked her finger lightly as she attached the letter to its leg.
“Is that the letter to your parents about Christmas break?” Harry asked.
Cath nodded. “I really hope the owl arrives when they’re in a good mood… especially Father. I hope they let me go…”
“Me too,” Harry replied.
“What are you doing?” Cath asked him.
“Sending a letter to my aunt and uncle that I’m not coming home for break,” Harry said. His face darkened. “Although I doubt they’ll really care.”
Cath felt sorry for Harry. As much as her parents could be difficult at times, at least she had parents who loved her and cared for her. She couldn’t believe the things Harry had said in passing over the year about his aunt and uncle, how he used to sleep in a broom cupboard, that often he would be punished and not be able to eat.
There was silence for a minute as they both left the Owlery and descended the stairs. Cath glanced out at the school grounds, watching the Dementors slowly patrolling. She got that dark feeling she got whenever they were near.
“I wish they’d go away,” Cath remarked.
Harry looked around at the Dementors and nodded in agreement. “Me too. I’m tired of passing out cold every time I’m around them. I don’t know why they affect me so much.”
“You aren’t the only one they affect,” Cath assured him. “I don’t know a single person who could look at one without feeling horrible and terrified.”
“I suppose,” said Harry.
They entered one of the towers, grateful to be indoors. Even the castle, usually cold, was a relief from the chill outside. To the right was the corridor leading towards the classrooms. To the left, the stairway that would take Cath towards the Common Room.
“I’ve got to go,” Harry said to her. “I’m meeting with Professor Lupin about an assignment.”
“Alright,” Cath said, noticing his wand in his back pocket as he turned and walked down the corridor.
Cath began descending the staircase, thinking about the letter she sent. She hated feeling like she was missing out on spending time with her friends during the breaks. Sometimes Cath felt as though she was caught between two worlds; her parents, and her life at Hogwarts.
The staircase beneath her gave a big creaking noise and began to move to another landing. Cath sighed in annoyance. It wouldn’t be too much of a detour, but now she was going to have to through the main floor where the Great Hall and offices were. When the staircase connected, she went down the last few steps and rounded the corner.
To her great surprise, her father was talking in a low voice with Professor Dumbledore, looking very angry. Cath stopped for a moment, partially concealed behind a giant stone statue, and tried to hear what they were saying.
“…endangering the students in such a way is completely unacceptable,” she could hear her father say in an icy cold voice.
“I understand your frustration, Lucius, but I assure you-“
“Frustration? I am not frustrated, Albus. I am livid that my son was injured because of an irresponsible decision made by a professor at this school. I simply will not tolerate this nonsense. I have already brought the issue to the board of governors.”
“I would be happy to sit down with the board and discuss the matter there. But, respectfully, I do not think this corridor is the most suitable place for this conversation,” Dumbledore said calmly.
Cath’s father sighed irritably. “I will send you an owl with the date and time of the meeting,” he said curtly.
“I will await your letter,” Dumbledore replied. “Good day, Lucius.”
Cath could hear Dumbledore’s footsteps coming toward her. Quickly trying to look nonchalant, Cath continued down the corridor.
“Ms. Malfoy! What a coincidence,” Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly as they passed.
“Cathryn,” her father said, still in the same place Dumbledore had just come from.
“What are you doing here?” Cath asked.
Upon closer look, he looked very stressed. As he put on his leather gloves and fastened the buttons on his emerald green winter cloak, he replied, “I’ve been trying to reach Dumbledore for weeks about what happened to Draco. Your mother and I were absolutely horrified to hear that he was so badly injured under the supervision of a professor.”
“He seems to be recovering well,” Cath said, trying to reassure him.
“Regardless, it shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” he replied. “Hippogriffs? In a Third Year class? Ridiculous. That idiot should be sacked, and his beast executed.”
Cath had to bite her tongue, horrified at what her father had just said. “Hagrid didn’t mean to.”
“Whose side are you taking in the matter?” Father snapped. Cath felt silenced, not knowing how to respond. Her Father sighed, knowing his tone had been a bit too harsh. “I’m afraid I have to leave. Your mother and I are very much looking forward to you and Draco coming home for Christmas.”
Cath thought about the letter she had just sent. Did she dare bring it up now? Or should she wait until he was home to receive it? One more look at him made up her mind. “Me too,” she replied.
He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before turning in the direction of the entrance. Cath watched him leave, his cloak billowing behind him, and then turned around to get to the Common Room. When she arrived, she sighed in annoyance at the group of students waiting to enter. Sir Cadogan had no doubt changed the password on them again.
“Come on,” Dean Thomas groaned. “You can’t just let us in?”
“And put the noble house of Gryffindor in the face of danger?” Sir Cadogan asked incredulously. “Never. Now take out thy sword and fight me like a real knight!”
“We aren’t living in medieval times anymore!” Seamus exclaimed, exasperated.
“Last I checked it was Flibbertigibbet,” Cath offered, taking a step forward.
“We tried that already,” Pavarti Patil said, crossing her arms against her chest.
“Intruders! All of you,” Sir Cadogan waved his sword at them menacingly, as if he had forgotten he was just a portrait hanging on the wall of an old castle.
“You see us every day! You know we aren’t intruders,” Cath pointed out.
“What’s all the ruckus about?” Percy Weasley said from behind them. He pushed through to get to the front of the line.
“Sir Cadogan changed the password again,” Seamus explained to Percy.
Percy sighed in frustration. “Sir Cadogan,” he said as respectfully as he could. “We had this conversation last week with Professor Dumbledore-”
“Scoundrels! Dogs, all of you!” Sir Cadogan interrupted. “I can see none of you are fit for the task, nor are you brave enough to duel me. Now get back!”
Percy looked so angry a vein was beginning to pop out in his forehead. “I will not have you speak to me that way. I’m Head Boy! I demand you let these students into the Common Room at once.”
“Fine, I’ll let you in…” Sir Cadogan said with a smirk that gave the impression that he was not in fact going to let them in. “If you can tell me who defeated the Wyvern of Wye.”
There were a few exasperated sighs, and Cath worried that steam was going to start escaping Percy’s ears. She had never seen him so cross before; no doubt, he hated having his authority challenged.
“Does anyone know?” Seamus asked the group.
The others shook their heads dejectedly.
Cath suddenly had an idea. It was a long shot, but she might as well try. “Sir Cadogan,” she said, taking a step forward. Maybe if he recognized her from now on he’d let her in… “It was you of course.”
Sir Cadogan didn’t look so much disappointed as he was elated that someone recognized an achievement of his. “Aye, bonnie lass! It was I. It was a dark winter’s night, much like this one… The Wyvern of Wye-”
“Maybe another time,” Dean interrupted, looking expectantly at him.
Sir Cadogan finally gave in, swinging forward with a deep bow.
“Thank Merlin!” Seamus exclaimed.
“Thank goodness you came,” Parvati said gratefully. “I had no idea what he was even talking about.”
“I knew once a Head Boy arrived that he would stop with his ridiculous games,” Percy said from the back of the group. Everyone else ignored him.
“How did you know?” Dean asked.
Cath shrugged. “I just assumed he’d be talking about himself.” She had to admit, she was quite enjoying the attention. She even pretended to act modestly when Dean and Seamus told Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George what had happened.
“Brilliant,” he said to Cath, giving her a lopsided grin. “I never would have thought of that.”
“It’s in A Comprehensive History of the Knights of the Round Table: Fifth Edition,” Hermione said as if it were obvious.
“How could I have forgotten,” Fred said sarcastically. “It’s only my favourite book.”
“I wish I had been there to see Percy get put in his place,” Ginny said ruefully.
Fred and George stood up. “Well, we had best be off…” George said.
“What are the two of you up to?” Hermione asked.
“No good, of course,” Fred replied, winking at her. He had a large piece of very old-looking parchment sticking out of his back trouser pocket, thought Cath doubted that they were going to do any homework.
“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked, closing her copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and setting it beside her on the couch.
“Meeting Professor Lupin,” Cath answered.
“Did he mention what he was doing with him?” Hermione asked inquisitively.
“Just meeting with him about an assignment,” she replied.
“Doesn’t sound like Harry…” Ron remarked. He was opening a package of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and held them out to the others.
Cath took a few in her hand and examined them. One was green with brown flecks, while the other was plain light blue. Deciding she had better go with the blue one, she popped it into her mouth and hesitantly bit down on it. Soap flavour. Certainly not the worst, considering there were flavours like earwax, sausage, and troll bogey.
A game of exploding snap started somewhere in the Common Room and Cath jumped up at the chance to play her favourite game. Ginny joined her and they sat down at one of the large study tables with a group of other students including Dean and Seamus and Colin Creevey and Alice Stone, both in their year.
***
The fall term was almost at a close, and Cath was still waiting for a reply from her parents about spending part of the Christmas break at the Weasleys’ house. It had been almost a week since she had sent her letter, and there were only five days left of school before the students were dismissed for two weeks.
It was a Sunday afternoon and the grounds were now completely covered in snow. There was not a single could in the sky that day, causing the white snow to sparkle and catch in the light. That morning Hermione and Ron had left for Hogsmeade, sent along with a list of things Cath, Ginny, and Harry wanted them to purchase for them.
Christmas time at Hogwarts was definitely one of Cath’s favourite times at school. In the girls’ dormitory was a huge window with a cushioned window seat. She and Ginny were curled up on it with a mug of hot chocolate, looking outside and soaking in the warmth of the sun.
Far down below Gryffindor tower, Cath could see Hagrid making his way from the edge of the forest toward the castle, dragging a pine tree in each hand through the snow. He left a long, snaking path behind him.
“Do you remember what happened to my brother in Hagrid’s class a while ago?” Cath asked Ginny, remembering the conversation she had had with her father when he was talking with Professor Dumbledore two weeks ago.
Ginny nodded, taking a sip of hot chocolate. “Has he recovered yet?” Cath could hear a trace of sarcasm in her voice.
“Oh, he’s fine,” Cath waved her hand dismissively. “The only thing is, my father was here a few weeks ago talking to Professor Dumbledore. I overheard them in the corridor. He was really upset about what happened and wanted to take some sort of action.”
“What kind of action?” Ginny asked, looking concerned.
Cath shrugged. “I’m not totally sure… he did mention wanting Hagrid to be fired though.”
“That’s not fair!” Ginny remarked. “It wasn’t Hagrid’s fault. Harry said Draco didn’t follow the instructions properly.”
“I know, I don’t think Hagrid is at fault either. I’m going to try my best to convince my father that it was just an accident,” Cath agreed with her before adding darkly, “Though I’m not sure I’ll have much luck, Draco being his favourite child and all.”
Ginny chuckled. “That can’t be true.”
“He doesn’t even try to hide it!”
“C’mon Cath, you don’t think your own father would actually pick a favourite child. He probably just gets on better with Draco because he’s a boy,” Ginny reasoned.
Cath sighed. “Maybe you’re right.” She blew gently on the surface of her hot chocolate before taking a sip, not wanting to burn her tongue. She licked whipped cream from the corners of her lips.
“Anyways, have you heard back from your parents about staying with us during the break?” Ginny asked, crossing her legs in front of her.
“Not yet,” Cath replied dejectedly. “If I don’t get anything back tomorrow, I’ll send another letter. I don’t see why they wouldn’t want me to go. Christmas at our house is so boring anyway.”
“They have to let you come,” Ginny said. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
After a while more of people watching and drinking hot chocolate, Ginny and Cath decided to wander down to the Great Hall to have lunch with some of the other girls in their year. Cath expected to see Harry down there since he hadn’t been able to attend Hogsmeade outings, but he was not in the Common Room or in the Great Hall.
Hagrid had set up the Christmas trees in the entrance hall and was now going to get two more. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall were using charms and transfiguration to decorate each in Hogwarts house colours.
Unfortunately for Cath, she did not receive a letter from her parents the next day, and despite the several other letters she sent after, much to the chagrin of the owl she kept fastening letters to, did not receive a response until the day before the end of the term.
All it said was:
Cathryn,
We will talk about this when you return home.
***
Cath and Draco pushed their trolleys with their friends through the crowded Platform 9 3/4 and waited in the queue that was forming to exit to Platform 9. All of them were dressed in their warm winter clothes and were chatting excitedly about Christmas.
Cath couldn’t help but feel jealous that all of them were going to be spending the whole two weeks together having fun. She hated the feeling of missing out and wondered if Draco had tried to ask their parents or if he even wanted to join them.
“I think Father and I are going to catch a Quidditch game or two over the break,” Draco was drawling to Hermione.
“What team?” Ron interjected, immediately fascinated by the topic of conversation.
“Puddlemere United, of course,” Draco replied. “We have season passes.”
Cath felt embarrassed by his constant bragging as Ron’s face was overcome with jealousy. She didn’t know why Hermione seemed to find him so interesting.
“That sounds really enjoyable,” she replied. “I’ve never seen a regional team play before. Only our Hogwarts teams.”
“You haven’t?” Draco asked incredulously. “You have to come sometime.”
“There are Mum and Dad,” Ginny said, gesturing to where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing, making conversation with another family. She turned back to Cath and Draco. “Let us know if your parents decide you can come.”
“I hope you can,” Hermione said. “It’s always so much fun at the Burrow.”
“I’ll talk them into it,” Cath said confidently, determined not to miss out on the fun.
“Come, Cathryn,” Draco said. “Mother and Father will be waiting for us.”
They said their goodbyes quickly before Cath and Draco continued to push their trolleys down the narrow corridors of the underground system. Their parents normally met them outside King’s Cross station, where they would help with their luggage and walk over to a store in Diagon Alley and use the Floo network to return home to Wiltshire.
“Did you ask about going to the Burrow?” Cath asked Draco.
“I tried sending a letter, but they never responded,” Draco said. “They probably prefer we stay at home during the break. They hardly get to see us during the year as it is.”
“I suppose…” Cath trailed off. “Do you think they don’t want us to go?”
Draco shrugged uncomfortably, causing Cath to think that he probably thought so. “Just drop it,” he said. “We’ll have a perfectly fine Christmas at home.”
Cath didn’t say anything else, but she certainly wasn’t going to drop it.
Just like always, their parents were waiting for them at the grand entrance of King’s Cross station. It was strange to see them without their regular clothes, but Cath knew that Muggles would be suspicious if they saw people wearing cloaks and robes or pointed hats.
Both their parents greeted them with a smile and helped them with their luggage. Between the four of them, they could carry everything. After returning the trolleys, they made their way outside, where snow was falling gently from the sky. The streets of London were decorated for Christmas, and as they entered Diagon Alley, the streetlights and storefronts were as well.
At last, the Malfoys made it back home. When Cath landed in the fireplace of Malfoy Manor, she couldn’t deny that it felt like home. She stepped out into the sitting room, making sure to dust off her feet before walking through and bringing her things up into her room.
Cath’s bedroom was large but fairly simple. The walls were painted an eggshell white. Against the wall opposite the door was her bed, a four-poster with a sage green bedspread and a beige throw blanket. On either side of her bed were two tall windows that let in the afternoon sun.
A large pine wardrobe sat against the wall to the left of the door. To the right was her small bathroom. The side of the room on which the door was, sat a small desk with a stack of books on it. Cath’s favorite part of her bedroom was the large wicker chair that hung from the ceiling. It was large enough that she could curl up on it and comfortable enough that she occasionally fell asleep while working on homework.
The curtains of her four-poster bed were white and billowy. It was so quiet; Cath had gotten used to sharing a dormitory with the seven other girls in her year. Though she did like her room here, it didn’t feel as warm as the Gryffindor dormitories, and Malfoy Manor as a whole lacked the coziness and charm of Gryffindor Tower.
Cath didn’t bother unpacking. Instead, she set her trunk on the ground and picked a book out of the small stack on her desk. Her mom had bought her a set of novels by a well-known witch for her tenth birthday. Cath had tried and tried countless times to read them, but teen romance novels were not exactly her speed.
The book she had selected from the series was called Meet Me at the Clock Tower. The cover showed a young couple kissing under the clock tower in Diagon Alley, a famous magical landmark. Two bookmarks peeking out about a quarter of the way and halfway through told Cath she had attempted to start this one several times.
From down the hall, she could hear Draco and her parents come up the stairs, presumably to drop off the remaining luggage. Cath flung the book onto her bed and looked out of her doorway. This was her chance to interrogate her parents about why they didn’t want her staying at the Burrow during the winter break.
Her mother walked towards Cath’s room with her other things. When she saw the book lying on Cath’s bed she smiled. “Reading those again? Don’t you think it’s time for some new books?”
Cath forced a smile. “Yeah… I suppose so.”
Her mother pushed her long hair over her shoulder and put Cath’s trunk on the bed. Cath opened her mouth but then hesitated. Before her mother left the room, she said, “Mother, I was just wondering if you and Father had given any more thought about… you know, going to the Weasley’s for a bit?”
Her mother stopped in the doorway, gave a small sigh, and then turned around. This time, her smile looked rather forced. “Darling, don’t you see your friends every day at school?”
Cath was beginning to feel very annoyed at this point. She just wanted a straight answer. “Why can’t I go? All of my friends will be there. I really don’t want to miss out!”
“You know, why don’t you try making some other friends? It’s nice to branch out a little bit, isn’t it darling?” Mother said, that fake smile still plastered on her face.
“But why?” Cath asked. She didn’t mean to, but her voice was beginning to rise.
“There are some things that you won’t fully understand until you’re older, you see. Your father and I both agree that… perhaps you should spend time with other people too,” Mother tried to explain, keeping her voice calm and in control.
Tears sprung to Cath’s eyes. She tended to cry when she felt angry. Perhaps it was time to try a different approach. “Please,” she pleaded, trying to use the tears to her advantage. “Please, mother, I just want to go for a few days.”
Her mother automatically put a hand on her shoulder to comfort Cath. Her sympathetic eyes told Cath that she was giving in. “I’ll… talk to your father,” she said, defeated.
“Oh, thank you!” Cath exclaimed, hugging her mother tightly.
She smoothed Cath’s hair before turning around to leave. Feeling satisfied, Cath jumped onto her bed, sinking into the soft feather mattress. Her mother was far easier to win over than her father.
A moment later, she heard someone else enter her room. Cath looked up and saw Draco leaning against her door frame, arms folded across his chest.
“That was a nice little show you put on there,” Draco said.
“I did it for both of us,” Cath said as if that were supposed to somehow justify it.
“Mother could never say no to you…” Draco said, looking slightly bitter as he said it.
“Well, good thing you have Father,” Cath retorted. “You know, it would help if you could ask him about staying at the Burrow.”
Draco shrugged, looking down. “Maybe.”
“Why have you been acting like that?” Cath asked, sitting up.
“Like what?” Draco asked defensively.
“You know,” Cath said. “Sometimes you’re all over Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and sometimes you avoid them. I don’t get it.”
She could tell she was right; Draco frowned and dropped his arms to his sides. “Whatever, Cath.”
“Ask Father!” she called after him as he turned and went back to his room. Cath lay back down, staring up at the covering of her four-poster. She was already bored. Her friends were no doubt having the time of their lives at the Burrow… probably playing games, eating treats, having snowball fights…
Cath drifted off into a light sleep. She had no idea how long she had slept for when she awoke to Draco hitting her with a pillow.
“Draco!” she groaned.
“Supper is ready,” he said, tossing the pillow back on her bead.
Cath sat up and gathered her hair into a tail and changed into some more comfortable lounge clothes. Their house always seemed so cold, no matter how much Cath bundled up. Her footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as she made her way across the hall and down the long, curved staircase to the first floor.
She breathed in the smell of food wafting from the kitchen, catching hints of thyme and red wine. Her parents and Draco were already seated, and their House Elves were sending platters of food floating over to the dining table.
Cath always thought their dining table was far too long. It seated at least twelve people and looked rather silly with just the four of them taking up the end. Above their heads was a grand chandelier that had been in the Malfoy family for centuries, according to her father. The teardrop-shaped crystals reflected the flickering candlelight.
On the table was roast beef with carrots and potatoes, and a loaf of steaming hot bread wrapped in a cloth to keep warm. The smell made Cath realize just how hungry she was. Her parents sipped dark red wine from antique goblets.
Her father cleared his throat and Draco and Cath both looked up at them. Meals were more or less void of conversation, so whatever their father was about to say must be important.
“Your mother and I have decided to allow you to visit the Weasleys,” he said. It sounded as though the sentence was incredibly hard for him to get out.
Cath’s eyes widened in delight.
“For two nights,” he continued. “After Christmas day.”
“Oh, thank you!” Cath exclaimed. “Thank you so much!”
Her father forced a smile and nodded, taking a gulp of wine. Their mother was delicately cutting her carrots and potatoes, glancing over to their father.
Cath could tell that Draco was excited but trying to act nonchalantly as he buttered a slice of bread. She had always looked forward to Christmas, but now she wanted to skip right past it so that she could be with her friends at the Burrow.
***
As predicted, the first week of Christmas break was quiet and rather boring. Cath’s parents had a few families over and made her spend time with their friends’ children while they were over. Draco enjoyed bossing Vincent and Gregory around, but Cath had absolutely nothing in common with Corban and Lysandra Yaxley’s daughter Clara, who was a Second Year in Slytherin house.
Clara was a very pretty girl with blonde hair that fell in neat curls at her collar bone. She was very fair-skinned, which made her full pink lips stand out. Clara was graceful and poised. Her every movement was fluid and precise as if she were a ballerina. She was at least a head taller than Cath, who felt awkward and clumsy compared to her.
Cath didn’t know what to talk about and felt stupid just sitting across from her trying not to stare too much. The two of them attempted to play a rather half-hearted game of wizard’s chess before they both resigned themselves to sitting in silence, awkwardly sipping on tea. Cath’s father seemed particularly disappointed that Cath hadn’t become immediate best friends with Clara and encouraged her to try harder when she was back at school.
It was finally the day after Christmas. Cath had scribbled a quick note to Ginny on the day their parents gave her and Draco permission to stay with them for a few days. At ten o’clock sharp, Cath was in the sitting room holding a bag with everything she needed for two days. Draco came in a few minutes later, followed by their parents.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat breakfast here?” Mother asked. She smoothed Cath’s hair behind her ears as she often did.
“I’m fine,” Cath said confidently. “Well, bye! Thanks again for letting us go.” She hugged both of her parents, genuinely grateful.
“Behave yourselves,” Father said.
Without another word, Cath stepped into the grand fireplace, took a handful of Floo powder, and said confidently, “The Burrow!”
She squeezed her eyes shut as she began to shoot away, keeping her arms close to herself and trying to remain as still as possible so she didn’t end up in someone else’s fireplace. Moments later, her feet landed on solid ground and she stumbled out of the hearth into a small, cramped sitting room.
Cath looked around. She felt as though she were in the most comforting, warm home. Compared to hers, where everything seemed cold and quiet, the Burrow was colorful, warm, and alive. A charmed feather duster glided around, and knitted blankets seemed to cover every sofa and piece of furniture. In the corner to her left was a huge Christmas tree, decorated with a variety of ornaments, including pictures of the Weasley children. The walls were a warm yellow, and on one was a massive clock with many hands, one for each member of the family. All of the arrows but two, who Cath had never met, were pointed at “Home.”
The kitchen was in view, and Cath saw the dishes being washed by themselves, as well as a washcloth wiping surfaces. She could hear muffled voices from upstairs. Cath walked tentatively towards the staircase. She looked up and saw that it looked as though different stories were added to the house at different times; all of the landings were uneven and differently shaped.
She heard a poof from behind her and heard Draco approach her. He looked around with a rather unpleasant look on his face.
“They must be very poor,” he remarked.
Cath felt angry and protective, but before she had the chance to respond, she heard footsteps above her. She looked up and saw Ginny standing at the top of one of the landings.
“Cath! You’re here!” she exclaimed.
“Who’s here?” said someone from about three floors up. Fred and George came into view. “Oh! Hello, Malfoys.”
Hermione burst out of a room and hurried down the stairs. “Oh, I’m so thrilled you both could come!” she exclaimed. She gave both of them a hug, causing Draco’s face to flush slightly. “Did you have a nice Christmas?” she asked.
“It was nice,” Draco replied. He looked a lot more relaxed now.
“Harry, Ron!” Ginny called up the stairs.
The boys came out of a room from the floor above Ginny and saw Cath and Draco. Harry looked incredibly happy. From the little she had heard about his aunt and uncle, Cath was sure that being at the Burrow for Christmas was like heaven.
“Cath, fancy a game of Exploding Snap?” George said, with a look that said he knew she wasn’t going to turn him down.
“Obviously,” she replied.
All of them found a spot in the small living room. While the game was being set up, Cath leaned over to Ginny and asked, “Gin, who are the other two on the clock?”
She pointed to the big clock where Bill and Charlie were away.
“Bill is our oldest brother,” Ginny explained. “He’s five years older than Percy. He works in Egypt as a curse breaker for Gringott’s bank. And Charlie is two years younger than him. He trains dragons in Romania.”
“Are they here?” Cath asked.
Ginny shook her head sadly. “They haven’t been home for Christmas for two years. But we did get to visit Bill in Egypt last summer. Mum always tries to convince them to come home, but they’re having the time of their lives.”
Cath admitted that they both sounded incredibly cool. About halfway into the game, the front door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came in with their arms laden with bags and parcels. They set everything down in the entrance, and Mrs. Weasley waved her wand at all the bags, which began to float into the kitchen and unpack themselves. Carrots, potatoes, onions, celery, apples, and cranberries all washed themselves in the sink while canned and dry goods flew into cupboards and pantries.
“Oh, the Malfoys are here!” Molly exclaimed to Arthur. She came into the living room, stretching her arms out for a hug. Cath, though surprised, received her nearly bone-crushing embrace. Not even Draco could get away. “We’re so thrilled you could join us for a few days. Have you had breakfast? You look hungry.”
“We're fine,” Cath replied politely.
“I’m starving,” Draco said at the exact same time.
“And good heavens, it’s nearly lunchtime! Let me set out some tea and biscuits to hold you over,” she said, hurrying back to the kitchen.
Mr. Weasley stopped her and took off her scarf, coat, and wool hat for her before she went to business. He nodded politely at Cath and Draco as he hung both his and Molly’s outerwear on a coatrack that was already dangerously close to falling over on account of all the jackets and scarfs hanging on its many arms.
“It’s a pleasure to have you,” he said over the noise of the game. “I trust you had a nice Christmas?”
"Very nice, thank you,” Cath replied. “Thank you so much for letting us stay.”
"Of course,” Mr. Weasley smiled. “Any friend of Ron and Ginny’s is a friend of ours.”
Moments later, a fresh pot of tea and some biscuits were making their way to the coffee table. As everyone poured themselves a cup, Cath couldn’t think of a better way to spend Christmas break than with all of her friends in one room.
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jiangchengrights · 3 years
Text
i wake to you at dawn
also available on ao3
“Alright, I get it,” Wei Ying mumbles to herself from where she lays, half of her face shoved into the pillow beneath her head, the other half just barely illuminated by the screen on her phone, “This dog is friends with that other dog now. Whoop de-fucking-do.”
Usually, these soft animal videos on Instagram don’t annoy her that much, even when they are about dogs, but she’s seen this specific post about fourteen times tonight. She can recite by memory the posts that come after it (a celebrity laying out in the sun, the tagline only the sunflower emoji, followed by one of Wen Qing, looking stern but fond as her lap is completely covered by both Wei Ying and Wen Ning, the tagline for that being ‘Reluctant jie’, and so on and so on) because she’s been frenetically refreshing all of her social media apps in order; she now knows the current lineup of instagram posts and tweets in her feed and has seen every godforsaken not-actually-that-interesting story of all of her friends (which isn’t fair to them, really, considering all of the important ones are here trapped in this same hotel as Wei Ying).
“Oh my god,” Jiang Cheng grumbles from the other side of the room where he lays on his bed (because of course he’s a part of her bridal party. Kind of. He’s walking her down the aisle tomorrow which, okay, makes him technically not a part of her party but she wasn’t about to let him skate free the night before her wedding)(or any of her bridal functions)(not that she needed to worry: he’d taken all planning rights away from her for her bridal shower and bachelorette party, he’d only tolerated the help of shijie) and throws his extra pillow at her, “If I have to hear that fucking dog video one more time, I swear to god, I’ll break your kneecaps. Do you hear me? I’ll have to drag you down the aisle tomorrow because you won’t be able to walk.”
“I thought you liked dogs, Shidi,” she replies, shifting ever-so-slightly so that she can squint at him past her phone.
“Wei Wuxian-”
“A-Cheng, A-Ying,” Shijie hums soothingly, from the other side of the room, “Please rest, for me. Your Shijie needs sleep too.”
“And if you don’t,” Wen Qing pipes up, “I know other ways to make you shut up.”
“Okay, okay,” Wei Ying whines, locking her phone with an audible click and resting it on the pillow next to her head, “I’ll try to sleep. For Shijie.”
Wei Ying does not sleep. She tries, she really does. Turns off all the lights and all the sounds and everything shiny that could keep her just engaged enough to stay awake. She tries to listen to the steadying breathes of her bridal party around her; Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang lay on the bed to her left, Shijie and Wen Qing to her right, Wen Ning passed out on the floor (he’d been invited, truly, to sleep in the empty spot next to her, only he’d fallen asleep long before everyone else and moving him to an actual bed proved to be very difficult when all the adults in the room were half (three fourths) wine drunk and giggling, so they’d just put a pillow under his head and wrapped him in their softest blankets and left it at that). She practices all the meditation tricks Lan Zhan had taught her; tries to calm her mind and her breathing and her heart.
It doesn’t work.
God, she wishes to herself, regardless of however illogical it may be, I wish Lan Zhan was in my bridal party.
With a sigh, she spends some time reflecting. She’s made so many bad decisions in her life, ones that have resulted in no less than three broken arms (sorry A-Cheng), many school detentions, almost getting expelled from university, a car accident that had left Shijie with seatbelt burns and a black eye from the airbag and Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, had left Lan Zhan, who’d been sitting prim and proper in the back seat, with scars that still lingered across the expanse of her back in the shape of all of Wei Ying’s nightmares. She’d chosen to hide away after that for three years in a different city with different hair and a different smile on her face and pretend like she didn’t feel a bone crushing loneliness in her entire being every time she thought of her Shijie, and didi, and her Lan Zhan who wasn’t really hers anymore, and that fact that in her self imposed exile she would never seen any of them again. That was, until Lan Zhan found her and dragged her back home and made her whole again.
Wei Ying was always whole, Lan Zhan would say, has said, I just helped Wei Ying find a way back. Will always bring Wei Ying back.
But with all that behind her and mostly wrapped up, this, tonight, right here, feels like her worst idea yet. She’d been so confident too! Had fought every naysayer, including Lan Zhan herself, with a cocky smile and a wave of her hand.
Brides shouldn't see each other the night before the wedding! She had laughed, and then laughed harder when Lan Zhan’s fingers had tightened where they dug into her hip, Besides, we’re not one of those couples! We can handle one night apart!
And she had been right, for the most part. Of course she missed Lan Zhan, but a night spent apart, having fun with her little family, all of them basking in the shared excitement of her impending nuptials. What she hadn’t anticipated was trying to sleep without Lan Zhan beside her, not when she’s this nervous, hadn’t thought about how deeply she would miss Lan Zhan’s warm weight behind her, her steadying arm firm around her waist, holding Wei Ying together like she did every night. She feels the absence with every shift of her hips that press backwards into nothing, every time she throws an arm out to rest on an empty pillow and the fact that there are no warm, soft, calves to ruthlessly shove her cold toes against.
By the time she picks up her phone again, everyone in the room is peacefully asleep and the  clock on her bedside table blinks 2:36, proud and red and rude, if you ask Wei Ying. She gives up on sleep and starts mentally calculating exactly how much concealer she’ll need to cover the bags under her eyes. After all, she wants to look her absolute best for Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan who is so steady and warm and beautiful, Lan Zhan who could open her mouth wide and eat Wei Ying’s entire heart in one bite but doesn’t, instead offering her own heart up on a silver platter for Wei Ying.
Wei Ying opens their messages on her phone, reads through the last few, laughs at the pictures she’d sent earlier in the night of Nie Mingjue, eyes half lidded with alcohol, laying messy kisses to the side of Xichen-ge’s face, who seemed to be accepting them with grace and only slightly tinged red ears. She taps her fingers on the screen, starting a message, lan zhan i can’t slee-
She doubles back, erasing it, deciding she doesn’t need to be whiny the night before their wedding, when Lan Zhan is surely asleep anyways. Again she starts, good early morning, lan zhan! i can’t wait to see you in your-
Too much, that is utterly too much. i love you, she types, hesitates with her thumb over the send button. What if the sound of her phone wakes Lan Zhan up? What if then Lan Zhan can’t fall back asleep? What if Lan Zhan tosses and turns all night and ends up with a headache, overtired on their wedding day of all times? What if this texts absolutely ruins everythi-
Her phone sounds, the little swooping noise it makes when she receives a new message on the thread she’s already looking at. She looks down and finds a link from Lan Zhan to a video of baby bunnies playing together with a message that says, When we return from our honeymoon, I think it is time we get another bunny. Possibly two.
And well. Her decision is made for her really. If Lan Zhan is awake, laying in her own bed in a room on the other side of the hotel, fighting off insomniatic boredom with bunny videos, there’s no way Wei Ying can stay here and allow them both to suffer.
She finds herself glad that Wen Ning is on the floor, though it looks a tad uncomfortable, because she’s able to slip out of bed with ease, bare feet silent on the carpeted floor. The only thing she grabs is her phone, not even bothering to try to find her shoes in the colossal mess that is her dark bridal room, littered with take out and bottles and stripped off clothing. Her nose crinkles, amused, when she thinks of the look of reprove she’ll surely get from Lan Zhan when she realizes Wei Ying walked around barefoot.
She manages to zigzag her way to the door without stepping on anything or making any noise, a feat she will congratulate herself on later. The door opens slowly, making the barest hint of noise as yellow hotel-hallway light floods the entrance to the room. Wei Ying pumps her fist, gloating at being able to sneak out without a single one of her party-poopers (read: caring family) waking up to ruin it for her and make her climb back into her own bed.
That is, until she catches Nie Huaisang’s eyes, watching her from where he lays next to Jiang Cheng. The most dangerous opponent, really, because with one shove of his arm he’d have Jiang Cheng up and yelling, alarming the whole room before she’d even make it to the elevator. She’s not sure she knows the layout of the hotel well enough to make it safely inside Lan Zhan’s room before one of them caught her.
Silent, slow, she moves one finger up to place over her lips, keeping eye contact with Nie Huaisang the whole time. She pleads with him from across the room, imploring him to be cool. He blinks, once, twice, slow like a cat in the sun, and then closes his eyes a third time for good and raises one, slow, thumbs up to her.
Her sigh of relief is the last noise in the room before she shuts the door and power walks to the elevator at the end of the hallway. She is going to buy him the biggest fruit basket. She dances by herself once inside the elevator, suddenly feeling cold and exposed in her red silk sleep tank and shorts, goosebumps prickling her arms and thighs. If only Lan Zhan’s room wasn’t so stupidly far away.
Of course her room has to be far away! Jiang Cheng had yelled when Wei Ying whined about it, the second you start drinking all you want to do is sit in her lap! You’re lucky I’m letting her party stay in the same hotel as yours!
And well, he hadn’t been wrong, per say, she thinks to herself as she tiptoes off the elevator and down the maze-like hall to get to Lan Zhan’s room. She still didn’t appreciate the distance though. She quietly tap taps on the door with one hand, pressing send on a text with the other that reads, lan zhan let me in lan ZHAN!!!
The door opens before her hand has even fallen back to her side. And there is her Lan Zhan, in soft cloud print pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, hair drawn up into a neat bun, eyes tired but awake.
“Wei Ying,” she says, the smile in her voice all Wei Ying needs to know about her welcome. She slides closer, wrapping her arms around Lan Zhan’s neck, grinning when she feels the others arms sneak around her waist.
“Mmm, Lan Zhan,” she hums against Lan Zhan’s neck, moving up to her tiptoes so she can nuzzle her nose against the corner of Lan Zhan’s jaw, “I’m tired, let’s go to bed.”
“I thought I was not supposed to see the bride the night before the wedding,” Lan Zhan replies, but she’s already inching backwards into the room, dragging Wei Ying along with her.
“Who ever said that?” Wei Ying asks, knowing full well she was the one who said that, a smile on her face when she lets Lan Zhan drop her into bed.
“Besides,” she says, once Lan Zhan is settled beside her, reaching one hand up to pet the side of Lan Zhan’s face, thumb rubbing gentle circles across the expanse of Lan Zhan’s cheekbone, “Does it count if there’s two brides? I don’t think so, we cancel each other out, see? If anything we have to do the opposite, you know, we have to see each other extra hard tonight.”
“Hmm,” Lan Zhan hums, her lips pulling up ever so slightly on one side as she leans in to rest her forehead against Wei Ying’s, legs tangling together, one hand sliding underneath Wei Ying’s shirt to spread warm and wide and firm in the valley between her shoulder blades, “Is that so?”
“Yes, tonight we have to,” Wei Ying nods, finally allowing her eyes to close as she presses further into Lan Zhan’s embrace, sleep finally weighing on her shoulders. She lets her head drop down, lips brushing against Lan Zhan’s collarbone, breathing her words right into Lan Zhan’s chest, “And every night too. I’ll tack that on for free, Lan Zhan, every night.”
“Yes, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan sighs against her hair and melts under Wei Ying’s nimble fingers, relaxed at once with the promise of forever, “Every night.”
“I love you,” Wei Ying whispers, one final thing, around a yawn and finally, finally settles for the night. She almost misses Lan Zhan’s whispered reply, I love you too.
But she doesn’t. She never wants to miss a single thing Lan Zhan has to say.
Coda:
For all of fifteen seconds, the world is warm and bright and everything good when Wei Ying wakes up. Toned legs tangle with her own and a soft hand pets her hair away from her face, gentle and comforting again and again. She herself is pressed messily against Lan Zhan’s chest, quite possibly, embarrassingly, drooling ever so slightly. She does not have time to register this, however, before the banging starts.
“Wei Wuxian, I know you’re in there!” comes a belt from the other side of the door, that has her shooting up in an awkward half sitting position, splayed on one-fourth on the bed and three-fourths in Lan Zhan’s lap. Lan Zhan’s hands act as a steadying force, one on her hip, the other on her back, as she blinks deliriously around the room.
Nie Mingjue seems to be in a similar position, probably blinking off a hangover and propelling up from his sleeping position, glaring around the room like he might find the source of their disturbance somewhere inside. Jin Zixuan, on the other hand, groans loud and long, pressing his pillow over his ears.
“I see you are up,” Lan Xichen smiles from the little table where he sits, drinking his cup of tea peacefully, unperturbed by the pounding on their door, “I hope you rested well.”
“I did, thank you Xichen-ge,” Wei Ying tries to laugh around the blush high in her cheeks, only now really registering the fact that Lan Zhan was also sharing a room and not, in fact, alone just waiting for Wei Ying to traipse her way in.
But when she looks down at the woman laying beside her, she sees none of her own embarrassment reflected there, only a fond smile and a soft hand reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ears. Huh, she thinks, revising her earlier thoughts, maybe not alone but definitely waiting for me.
“Wei Wuxian!” comes again from outside the door, though this time it just has her laughing, pushing into Lan Zhan’s hands like a cat.
“When did you get here?” Nie Mingjue asks, rubbing at his eyes. But he stands and stumbles his way over to Xichen and the tea and doesn’t seem particularly hard pressed for an answer, so Wei Ying ignores it.
“Hi, we’re getting married today,” she says instead, meeting Lan Zhan’s smile with her own.
“Mn,” Lan Zhan hums while the banging on the door stops. Finally, Wei Ying sighs, leaning down to press her lips against Lan Zhan’s, chaste because they are still in front of Lan Zhan’s brother and her brother in law. She’s still there when the door pops open, revealing a quietly furious Wen Qing.
“Wei Wuxian,” she seethes, taking calculated steps closer, “You were supposed to stay in your bed.”
“I did!” Wei Ying says, smiling wide to prove her innocence, “Lan Zhan is my bed!”
“I am going to-” Jiang Cheng barges through, leaving no one to hold the door open; it swings heavily back straight towards Jiang Yanli.
Before Wei Ying can even shout a disgruntled hey! Jin Zixuan, who was already on his way to the door, catches it with his hand and leads Jiang Yanli inside with a gentle hand and a soft smile that makes Wei Ying want to puke.
But Yanli-jie smiles back, big and happy and unashamed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, “Hello, husband.”
“Good morning, A-Li,” he says back, wistful and dopey as he leads her inside with a soft hand on the small of her back. Right in that moment, Wei Ying decides maybe she doesn’t hate him. For now.
“Sorry, Shijie,” Jiang Cheng responds, automatic when he looks back but Jiang Yanli waves him off with a forgiving smile.
“I know it wasn’t on purpose A-Cheng.”
The commotion leaves Wei Ying relaxed in a way she should have known better than to be, because all too soon she is being hoisted away from her warm spot on the bed and dragged out of the room.
“You promised, Wei Wuxian!” Wen Qing snaps, but Wei Ying can already hear the forgiveness in her voice, the amusement. Wei Ying lets herself be dragged along, barefoot again, back to her own room. And then because honestly she’s a little on the edge of too-excited and too-in love she shouts over her shoulder:
“I’ll see you at the end of the aisle, Wife!” and maintains vision of the room just long enough for Lan Zhan, who’d pushed herself into an upright position, turn red and drop back down into the bed with a gasp, like all of the air had been knocked out of her.
Wei Ying’s cackles are only rivaled by the quiet, but pleased chuckles from Lan Xichen.
“Do you have to be such an annoyingly sweet couple every single day?” Wen Qing huffs, letting go of her (fake, Wei Ying is pretty sure) anger entirely, sliding her arm up so they can lock elbows, walking arm and arm back to Wei Ying’s room.
Wei Ying thinks of Lan Zhan, warm around her and ever inviting, even if it was 2AM, even if Wei Ying looked like a ragamuffin, even if, even if, and smiles wide, cheesy, deliriously with all the right decisions she’s made in this life and says, “Yes.”
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purplesurveys · 3 years
Text
1170
survey by purplehugger
Would you ever get a tattoo? I would love to get one, and plans are definitely set for that. It’s just a matter of knowing when I’m finally finally FINALLY ready to have something permanent placed on my skin.
Can you live without your phone? Technically yes, but I would have a very hard time since I use it for a lot of things, if not all the things I do on a daily basis; and I imagine I’d grow cranky very fast.
What animal do you resemble? I’m not so sure about resemble...I can tell you my personality matches best with dogs, though. I always have a great time with them.
What is your best friend’s name? I have two of them, Angela and Andi.
What is/was your favorite subject in school? History, followed by honestly any social sciences course out there...geography, anthropology, political science, etc. I definitely hogged those classes in college as much as my curriculum allowed me to.
Would you ever adopt a stray puppy? I would adopt every single one I see if I could.
Do you like chocolate? Chocolate-flavored sweets, yes. Actual chocolate or chocolate bars, not so much.
What is your favorite word? Poignant always seems to hit me straight in the feels.
Have you ever done something really stupid? Erm, of course? I do it at least once a day.
What was the worst mistake you ever made? Y’all have heard it a million times by now, but it’s tolerating shit I knew I didn’t deserve. Also, touching a plugged clothes iron when I was 7.
Can you say the alphabet backwards? I did at one point, but I didn’t practice it and now I don’t know how to do it anymore.
How high can you count? Any number as long as money is involved, hahaha.
You are very loved. True or False? True.
Do you like Taylor Swift? Not so much.
Do you want any piercings? Yes, one on each of my ears; I got pierced as an infant.
Have you ever stolen something? Random lost pens at school.
Do you like seafood? Looooooove seafood. I literally have 24 pieces of sushi right next to me right now; just a lil Friday treat for myself heehee.
What is your least favorite name? That seems a bit harsh. I don’t think I hate any name that much so as to call it my least favorite.
What do you want to name your child? Olivia or Mia is still on the table for me.
Do you like the color green? Just the olive shade. Otherwise it’s my least favorite color.
Do you have lots of friends? I would say I have enough to be happy. I don’t know what exactly ‘many’ means.
Are you listening to anything right now? Yeah, my friend group put up a Discord server just tonight and Jo proceeded to start a BTS playlist earlier. Everyone’s since hopped out for the night, but the playlist is still on so I’ll be staying around for the meantime and vibe. :) Just me, BTS, and my sushi haha.
What time is it? 10:04 PM.
Are you hungry? No, I’m taking bites every once in a while as I take this survey.
What was the last thing you ate? Sushi. I got 3 kinds for tonight: Singaporean Roll, Dynamite Roll, and Mount Fuji Roll. All so good. 
Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? I never did.
Do you know any gay people? Many.
Do you have any pets? Yes.
Would you ever own a monkey? Probably not. I wouldn’t be equipped to care for them.
Do you enjoy reading? Essays and memoirs, yes.
--
survey by xxbieberburnham
Do you know anyone who has been attacked by a shark? Not to my knowledge.
What is your best friend's mom name? Girlie and Ria.
Have you ever made out in a movie theatre? No.
What part of your body do you wash first? Hair.
Do you have an innie or an outie? Innie.
How do you think the dinosaurs died? Giant asteroid.
What's your favorite flavor of Pringles? Just the original one. But tbh Pringles are so addictive anyway, I’ll always take more than one of any flavor if they were ever offered to me.
What was the last thing you got grounded for? Low grades, which was really the only reason why I ever got grounded.
Did you go to a water park last summer? No, and I doubt anyone else did either...
What shoe do you put on first? Usually the right.
Finish the sentence: Girls... Are powerful.
Have you ever had a song or poem written about you? Poem, yeah. I don’t think I would particularly appreciate an entire song being written about me though, I think that would just make me cringe lol.
Did you have a nickname growing up? Nothing like an affectionate pet name. My longest-lasting nickname is just a shortened version of my name used by family, but otherwise everyone calls me by my first name.
When was the last time you played the air guitar? Never.
Have you ever bitten your toenail? Only as a kid.
How often do you clean out your ears? Every other day.
Do you scrunch or fold your toilet paper? Fold.
Have you ever been dared to do something that you regretted? Nothing major. One instance I can remember is when I was dared to pick up food from the ground, and when I bit into it it already had some tiny tiny stones and some debris on it D:
Favorite website? Twitter, probably. Or YouTube.
Worst thing that has ever happened to you? Losing two relatives I was close to in the span of four days to Covid. I am so fucking glad we made the decision to celebrate Christmas with extended family last year, no matter how ignorant it was. It absolutely sucks that I will never see them again.
Best thing that has happened to you? Recovering from my depression last year and choosing to stay. I’m living a really happy life rn.
If you could dye your hair any color, what color would it be? Dark green.
Do you have a Wii? We used to but we threw it out a few years ago since it wasn’t working anymore.
Most used phrase on IM? I think I just say “Hahahahaha” excessively lmao. Picked it up from my bosses.
Have you ever heard of The Beatles? Yes.
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kaisooficrec · 4 years
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jfdjsf we’re so sorry to everyone who wanted this list last year before starting school 😭😭(and yall almost finished omg) but on the bright side, you’ll have so many nice fics to read now in summer 😎
Best/Childhood Friends to Lovers:
Internet is for Porn - Jongin is convinced that the only booty that can compete with his bestfriend’s legendary arse is the camboy D.O’s. One of my favourite works by indogomini and KaiSoo fics in general. Pure HILARIOUS lightly angsty smut. The real definition of a fun read.
A Different Morning - thisismylastlie’s latest EXO fic. Jongin’s been (whipped) Kyungsoo’s vlogger bestfriend since forever, but one video changes their life once and for all. I really love slice of life? Especially with a big pinch of pining and humor. 
Through The Midnight Streets - Jongin grows up with the Dos after a tragic event and gets to befriend the coldest of them all, Kyungsoo. Located in Paris, unrequited!SuKai, ballerino!Jongin, chaebol (straight, lol)!Kyungsoo, fear of homophobia, sloW BURN and so much pure art.    Threeshots on LJ are the real lucky charm.  
Bite Me - Hybrid!AU. In a world where hyprids are privileged, human!Kyungsoo suffers from being in love with his dog hybrid bestfriend. It gets even worse when he discovers that Jongin had a mate all this time.
Sticky Fingers - Smut, Humor. Kaleidohscope’s pornstar!Jongin asking his bestfriend to help him wax. Their dynamics here : 10/10 dammit. 
when it rains - Oneshot, fluff, Mute!Kyungsoo. Jongin refuses to unfriend his precious hyung, and refuses the title of bestfriend. 
Spider Webs - Oneshot, nonau. Kind of dark? EXO Kai and Jongin are two opposites, with the latter being a unsufferable brat who only accepts the company of Kyungsoo, his poor prey. Or so they thought.
Of late night kisses - Nonau, based on KaiSoo’s date on Valentine’s (hehe). Kyungsoo and Jongin rebelliously take a break on Valentine’s Day from rehearsal to go to the movies as friends, but come back as a little more.
Down the Chimney, Into my Heart - Oneshot, Fluff, Christmas!AU. For Kyungsoo, Christmas holds painful memories. Smitten Jongin decides to do something (stupidly cute) about it.
Mine Eyes are Made the Fools - PWP but with somewhat angsty emotional charge. Or roommates hella straightforward Jongin and scared-of-heartbreak Kyungsoo going at it.
Heart on Your Sleeve - Jongin decides to confess to his two years crush/friend on Valentine’s Day while they’re on a trip to Hong Kong. Annoying ChanBaek, newly tattooed!Kyungsoo and nerves make his mission way harder than it should be. Kyungsoo’s vibe here *wolf whistles* .
(First time?) Meeting - (kind of)PWP. Kyungsoo and Jongin are bestfriends who secretely text two hot boys. Everything changes when they decide to meet them.
Hold Down my Shaking Body - Tickling!kink. A really hot (focus on hot) oneshot/PWP. I love fics that include that spark when one of them realizes they like the other and damn, freaky times.
I Love You, Just Like This - Besties as kids, Soo falls for Jongin as they get older but Jongin’s hella popular & Soo’s insecure about his own looks.
Kyungsoo ... Give me your hand! by Saritababo - a nice 36k angsty friends to lovers where jongin has a crush on Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo is teasing him. 
City Lights by Life_not_knife - a confession fic where best friends kaisoo get together and jongin cant believe it, it also has smut.
愛戀 : deeply attached - 10k of childhood friends to lovers kaisoo, quite lovely fic. basically they are head over heels for each other.
feels good to be yours - Baker!Kyungsoo and dance instructor!Jongin are best friends, but who kiss a lot. None of their dates work and they take a while to figure out why. 
(Best)Friends, but one dates and the other tolerates/realizes their feelings :
If My Yesterday is a Disgrace - Fourshot, Angst, kind of Surrealism, Slice of Life. a gem by wandering-heart from our kfr project *u* they’re best friends, but jongin is hurt because he can never be more than friend and kyungsoo was supposed to marry his girlfriend. NOW allow me to not give any details about the plot because everything is so well thought and emotional and I’d rather leave you the opportunity to discover (and love) this masterpiece by yourself. A new personal favourite.
You are my heart - Chaptered, Angst, OT9 and broken!KaiBaek. At the age of fifteen, Kyungsoo and Jongin promised to marry each other if they’re alone by their thitieth birthday. At the age of twenty nine and thirty, Jongin goes through so much pain and heartbreak while Kyungsoo still pines silently. This teeters on tragic but have faith in the KaiSoo.
Always Have, Always Will - Twoshot. When Jongin looses to Junmyeon the opportunity to take sous-chef!Kyungsoo on a friendly date, he realizes that he might have wanted more all that time.
The Friend Zone - Oneshot, comedy, side!HunHan. Kyungsoo has been sent to the Friend Zone times and times again. He is unaware that his only bestfriend is exactly in the same position as him.
In plain sight - Oneshot, broken!ChenSoo. Jongin’s tired of seeing his bestfriend sad and heartbroken. All he wants from him is to move on. With him. 
What If - Oneshot, based on the song “What If”. On the day he plans on confessing, Kyungsoo learns that Jongin is dating Soojung. Uhm, it does have a happy ending but not the one you’re expecting. :,(
Brighter - Angst, nonau. Kyungsoo learns about JenKai and Jongin reminds him that he always comes first.
complications; and how they arise - Twoshot, light angst, temporary ChanSoo. Basically Jongin and Kyungsoo postponing their confessions and drifting apart because of insecurities. Lovely.
Good Intentions - Chaptered, slightly OT12. Kyungsoo is tired of his bestfriend constantly bringing new people to their house and comes up with an idea to quench Jongin’s (their) thirst. Kyungsoo’s a freaking music teacher and prepares a Christmas recital with lil kids and I love it.
nothing scares you about me and you - well well if this isn’t another gem from verseau >:) roommates kaisoo are just friends, best friends, but omega jongin is so oblivious and keeps hooking up with other alphas even though he loves kyungsoo's scent and kyungsoo also has his fair share of omegas which riles jongin to no end, yet he won't admit they're made for each other.
look - "he never thought he'd see that shine again but towards another person." the first ship is kaisoo, then jenkai happens, and then kaisoo again. basically kyungsoo is jealous of jongin being in a relationship.
Ain’t nice - Jongin definitely has a type. This has a nice plot twist, it’s otherwise angsty, and I wouldn’t say that it matches 100% the request but I said I should add it. It’s quite interesting. 
The Woes Of The Heart - wedding planner au. kyungsoo loves jongin who is going to marry a girl and kyungsoo is the one that plans their wedding and he pours his feelings in his diary. inarichi snapped with this truly
A Heart at Peace - in this house we worship strange seas! jongin is junmyeon’s younger brother and has always been close to kyungsoo and kyungsoo has always a special place in his heart. but now, they’re adults, jongin feels something that kyungsoo can’t reciprocate because he dates women
Older (best)friends-to-lovers : March14, April14, 2016, 2017
Happy reading! - KFR Admins
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zi-i-think · 3 years
Text
Acceptance
Pairing: Zuko x Ama
Word Count: 800+
Warnings: Curse words(?)
Request: yes @tiffanyy-21
AN: I’m so sorry it’s taken this long! It shouldn’t have, and it’s my fault. I’ve missed writing for my favorite OC and Zuko. I literally love them so much and was so happy to get this request. Hope you like it <3
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          The Western Air Temple was an impressive structure. The buildings stood as if they were hanging upside down and after years of being unused, they were still strong. 
         But the air felt humid and sticky. Ama, the oldest of the water tribe siblings, oftentimes found herself wishing to be back home. Longing to be back into the cold temperatures and cuddles up in fur blankets.
         There were tons of things she missed. Gran-Grans cooking. Telling stories to the children. Playing in the snow.
         But she didn't miss how the Southern Water Tribes lacked any eventfulness. Each day was the same as the last. Since traveling with the Aang, the avatar, she greatly enjoyed the laughs and the experiences. The danger they all faced was terrifying, yes. But the rushes of adrenaline made her feel alive and every day these life-threatening events became easier and easier to deal with.
         The thought of not knowing what came next was exciting and kept her curious.
         And when Aang allowed Zuko into the group, with hesitation, Ama’s curiosity arose. It was quite obvious that Katara hated that the Fire Nations prince of all people has joined them. Everyone else seemed to just barely tolerate him.
         It was kinda sad.
         Ama noted how lonely he looked at breakfast the day after he arrived. Everyone else was talking amongst themselves, completely ignoring Zuko’s existence. It didn’t look like he noticed, though, as he sat off to the side of the open temple, closer to the edge. He stared at the plain, but mesmerizing view. Which was mostly rock straight ahead, and above that one would only see the baby blue sky.
         The more she stared, the heavier her heart sank. He left his home, his nation, for a cause that he believed just. But in doing so, he was also abandoning everything he had previously believed. It couldn’t be easy, Ama thought.
         It wasn’t like she was heavily immersed in the conversation with Teo and Sokka. They were discussing mechanics for an improved airship. Something that Ama would never be able to understand no matter how she tried to. 
         So, she politely excused herself and made her way to Zuko with her breakfast in hand. As she got closer, she noticed that he barely touched his sweet buns — an air temple dish that consisted of rice wrapped in large flat leaves.
         “Not hungry?” She asked in an attempt to start conversation as she sat down beside him. The fire prince’s head snapped up at her voice. He didn’t even notice when Ama approached him. He cleared his throat as he began to think of how to respond. After all, he hasn’t really had a normal conversation in a while.
         “The leaves taste like water,” He told her, staring at the bowl like they had offended him in some way. An amused chuckle left Ama’s lips.
         “Yeah, Aang says that they taste better in the winter,” She responded, picking up one of the leaf-wrapped balls and bringing it up to her mouth. “But you should eat. We all have a long day ahead of us so you need your energy,” She added before finally taking a bite.
         “Why are you being nice to me?” He asked quickly. He looked at her with unwavering, but curious eyes that made Ama feel a little uneasy but also found it funny how he reminded her of a lost dog.
         “Well, if we’re going to be ending a war together may as well try and get along, right?” She shrugged.
         “Aren’t you worried that I’ll double-cross you or something?” He asked, narrowing his eyes and continuing to stare. 
         Ama sighed and didn’t say anything for a moment; letting her emotions form thoughts and sentences.
         “In the caves of Ba Sing Se, I thought that you might choose the right path and fight the good fight. When you didn’t I didn’t think there was any hope for you to see the errors of the Fire Nation… And maybe I’m just being naive, but I don’t think you’d be here unless you truly wanted to help us. I’d rather be friends than stay stubborn.”
         Zuko nodded, glad that he had someone to call a friend.
         “I won’t disappoint you,” He promised and Ama smiled in response.
         “Besides,” She continued with a breathy sigh. “I can just kick your ass while we spar as payback.” 
         “I’ve been trained in firebending since a child, you really think you can beat me?” Zuko raised an eyebrow in both surprise and in a challenging manner.
         “Wouldn’t be my first time, would it?” She teased, lightly elbowing his arm as they chuckled. “Now eat. I’m sure Aang wants to get started soon.”
         Zuko stared at her for a moment more as she turned to look at the rocky and empty view. He began to admire her kindness to him. After the not so warm acceptance from the others, it felt like Ama was the most considerate person in the world. He didn’t pay much attention to it at the time, but a fire started to burn in his heart, one that only Ama could bend.
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jonathanvik · 3 years
Text
Starlight Dream - Chapter 1
The slop squelched onto Seina's plate. Pieces of her dinner splashed onto her plain blue dress, staining it. Not that the server cared, glaring at her to keep moving. The workers only had two twenty-minute breaks in their thirteen-hour day. The servers tolerated no dillydallying, especially from rambunctious young girls like her.
Seina kept her head down and kept moving, else she draw more attention to herself. She'd have to spend some time before bed cleaning it. By rule, the higher-ups allowed the workers only one outfit.
Her parents waved her over, and Seina joined them. Before the darkness, her father had worked at an insurance firm as a salaryman. Years of hard labor and ill nutrition had left him gaunt and bony, losing most of his hair during the process. Despite this, he kept a positive attitude. Her father never stopped smiling, always saying there was a silver lining behind anything. Seina wasn't sure what silver lining existed to a life with a 78-hour workweek of menial labor, and being fed food even dogs would be reluctant to eat. Still, she appreciated the encouragement.
"Oh dear, did you receive a stain, Seina?" Seina's mother said as she approached the grimy rusty table her family sat around. While somewhat plain, the matronly woman wore a face people instinctively trusted. "I'll ask around to see if I can get an extra detergent ration. Can't have the taskmasters seeing my daughter walk around in soiled clothes." Like her father, her mother was also always smiling. It made Seina feel guilty for being miserable most days.
Not that they really had days anymore. Thick smoke covered the sky, making even the sunniest days hazy and ugly. The masters' power had ensured the sun would never shine again.
Seina gave the nearest taskmaster a nervous sideways glance. Pointed teeth glistened from under his lips, marking him as the monster he was. She gave him a respectful nod, not showing an ounce of disrespect. She'd seen people staked for less. Their boss enjoyed twisting people into grotesque art pieces to mock their human workers. For the majority of Seina's ten-year existence, vampires had dominated the world.
Somehow, Seina got her stomach to agree with the slop they'd served her. Her parents weren't as picky, happily sipping away at their meal. After another tentative bite, an interruption caught her attention, making her blood turn cold. A high-ranking vampire had entered their eating area, a black silk cape flowing behind him. They were never a good sign.
"Attention. The Dark Lord is looking for volunteers for tonight's entertainment, and you're the lucky bunch, 2-B!" The man gave them a cruel smile. "Come this way. I'd advise not to keep Master Lothaire waiting."
Fear rooted Seina's feet in place, knowing the likely fate which awaited them. She'd seen it often enough. Master Lothaire loved making them watch his entertainments. Her father put a comforting hand on her shoulder, wearing a bright smile.
"Don't worry dear. Most groups come back alive afterward. They can't afford to kill entire scores of us. They'll pick a few and leave the rest alone."
Her mother nodded in agreement, also wearing a wide, encouraging smile. "He's right, Seina. I better take care of that stain. Have to look our best for the vampire lord! How's my hair look?"
"Just smashing honey!" Her father replied. "You'll knock them dead!"
Her mother blushed. "Stop it!"
While not as optimistic, Seina got her feet moving. She joined the others in her workgroup towards Master Lothaire's favorite colosseum, allowing the head vampire to shackle her.
"What a dreary place!" Colten said, examining the strange new world he'd found himself in. He flew high into the smoky area, examining everything with interest. What a terrible place to find himself. The people looked shabby, dressed in rags. Their living conditions seemed little better. Most buildings were either dilapidated or empty. The fear behind the human's eyes broke his tiny heart. Something terrible had happened here.
As he scanned his surroundings, something caught his eye. Were those people in chains? Dark creatures were guiding their captives towards one of the few well-maintained buildings in the city. It was a massive dome-like building and, unlike most structures, had bright flashing lights. From the captive's expressions, most believed they were going to die. It shocked him to see children among them.
Colten screamed in frustration. What could he do? His power was limited, drained from his trip, and he was only a tiny fairy. Dark energy spilled from the people's captors. They were powerful creatures of pure darkness. The evil intensified when he looked towards the shining dome. He sensed great malice there.
"Darn it!" He looked towards the scared people again and made a decision. Moments later, he flew towards the colosseum, praying he could do something.
People packed the stadium. They bumped and jostled Seina as she attempted to walk through them. Master Lothaire must have called everyone in the Osaka district to attend his games. The vampire elite were jeering and having fun, watching the helpless, terrified humans with amusement. One grabbed a random passerby, and Seina looked away, not wishing to see what happened next. She'd heard and seen enough to know the rest.
The entire building was a testament to the master of humanity's power. Statues of people wearing expressions of agonizing pain decorated the walls. Rumors said they were actual people, turned to stone through a vampire's power during their death throes and maybe even still suffering. The details on them gave some unsettling credence to this theory.
Soon they reached a large circular room with countless bleachers, each occupied by a vampire eager for tonight's festivities. Master Lothaire himself sat on a throne of ivory, looking down upon his domain from the balcony. The vampire lord was handsome beyond words, taking Seina's breath away, despite knowing his true monstrous nature. The proof hung around his neck. He wore a necklace of skulls, each of a world leader he'd killed after taking their country for his own. In the throne beside him sat Lilha, his queen. She also shared her husband's inhuman beauty, only her eyes betrayed her lack of humanity, and Seina shivered when they shared a glance. She was only a toy Lilha would enjoy before throwing away.
"Welcome, friends!" Master Lothaire said. Despite not raising his voice, Seina could hear him despite the distance. "Tonight marks the fifth anniversary of my conquest of the world. In honor of that victory, I've provided entertainment and games for all to enjoy. Eat, drink, and be merry! For this kingdom will last a thousand years and beyond!" The vampire crowd broke into uproarious cheering and applause.
Seina's legs shook. This was worse than she'd first suspected. The odds of survival seemed almost impossible. She calmed down somewhat when her father put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry, we'll get through this." Her father said, wearing a warm smile.
"Our first entertainment will be a favorite of mine, a battle to the death!" Master Lothaire said, continuing. "Against your favorite and mine, Dreven the Unkillable!"
Bar doors opened in the fighter's pit, revealing a shirtless vampire. Unlike most of his kind, this vampire had a powerfully built body, seeming more alive than his undead kin. He played to the crowd, who gave him cheers and tossed him decayed flowers.
_Wow, Dreven the Unkillable. I feel sorry for anyone who's going to face him. He's never lost a fight, ever. _Wasn't his win count eight thousand to zero or something?
"And his opponent will be a volunteer from worker group 2-B!" Master Lothaire said, surprising Seina out of her pondering.
_This is so bad! _That meant someone she'd know for most of her life would soon die. It was too horrible to even consider. The girls in her division openingly wept, almost terrified beyond reason. Uncle Kenji offered brave words, but they fell on deaf ears.
"No need to rush." A vampire dressed like a cheesy announcer, complete with a tacky polka-dot bow tie, said. "But if you don't volunteer soon, there will be consequences."
The captive humans remained silent, too frightened to do anything. The vampire announcer's annoyance grew by the moment.
"Still no response? Oh well." The announcer shrugged. "I'll make it easier for you. The fighter will come from chapter D. That simplifies things. You better choose quickly, or you will all die in one minute."
D? That was Seina's division. No, please no. Anything but that. Usually, divisions had five people, but 2-B was missing two. One died of exhaustion last week, and the other suffered a terrible mining accident.
It was too horrible to consider. Would this mean that... Seina yelped in surprise as someone pushed her forward, howling in pain as she landed face-first on the fighter's pit floor. She spat after getting some dirt into her mouth.
"Well, well! Looks like we have a volunteer!" The announcer said. The crowd burst into laughter.
"What? No!" Seina's eyes widened in horror. What had just happened? Who pushed her? She looked up to see her father with a hand extended outward.
"Dad?" Seina said, too stunned for words.
"Sorry honey, but it was either you or us!" Her father replied.
"Don't worry, Seina. We'll always remember you!" Her mother added.
"W-what?"
"We'll be sorry to see you go. But don't worry, we'll have a new daughter in your honor!" Her father continued.
Her mother gave an emphatic nod. "Yes, Seina is a beautiful name. I'm sure she'll love it!"
Seina just stared, unable to believe what just happened. The crowd broke into more laughter and cheers, and the vampire king gave a nod of approval.
"Silly child," Lothaire said. "Haven't you listened to my teachings? In this world, it's kill or be killed. Love is only a weakness. Your parents were right to sacrifice you."
"Yep, sorry dear, but he's right!" Her father said, nodding in agreement. "You should have known."
"Hopefully, the new Seina will be smarter." Her mother added.
"Bring out the weapons. This should be entertaining." Lothaire said.
"What?" The shock of her parents' betrayal still hadn't left her. Seina had trouble adjusting to the concept that they expected her to fight for life. "But I'm only a ten-year-old girl!"
Dreven smirked and shrugged. "Them's the breaks, kid." From the audience's expression, they would enjoy seeing her torn limb from limb. The humans, except her parents, looked away, not wishing to watch Seina's gruesome fate.
A vampire pulled a wide variety of weapons into the fighter's pit. They ranged from swords to guns. None looked light enough for a ten-year-old to wield. Seina broke into tears, beyond terrified, unable to even stand straight. She didn't want to die. How could this happen?
With an exaggerated swagger, Dreven walked over to the weapon rack and withdrew a sword larger than Seina's entire body. With his vampiric strength, it seemed like a toy in his hands.
Since fighting back was pointless, Seina closed her eyes, preparing for the end. She prayed it wouldn't be too painful.
"Please don't cry! Be strong!" A kind voice said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
Seina blinked through watery eyes, looking towards the kind stranger who comforted her in her final moments. She gasped in shock when she got a good look at them.
"You should be ashamed of yourselves, you jerks! You're the worst of the worst!" The strange creature said, berating the vampire horde.
Her rescuer was the purest white she'd ever seen. His head was bulbous, larger than his torso. The face somewhat resembled a cat, but with longer ears. Puffs of fur popped out from his enormous ears. Somehow, tiny wings supported the creature's weight, allowing him to fly around. He was also the cutest thing Seina had ever seen.
"What are you?" Seina asked in amazement, wondering if she was dreaming, or if the recent events had shattered her sanity.
"My name's Colten. And I refuse to allow this farce to continue any further!" The cat creature puffed out his chest.
"And what are you supposed to be?" Dreven said, pointing his enormous sword at the intruder.
"Um, just a fairy here to help." Despite his obvious fear, Colten refused to back down.
"A creature of good?" Lothaire snorted in derision. "How ridiculous. Another fool rushing to their death."
"He's right! You'll only get yourself killed!" Seina refused to allow someone else to die for her sake.
"No way!" Colten shook his enormous head only to scream in pain a few seconds later as Dreven struck him with the blunt edge of his enormous sword.
"Colten!" Seina rushed to her fallen friend's side. Thankfully, he only seemed bruised and not dead. A wing looked damaged, though. It seemed unlikely he could fly anytime soon.
"How adorable. Wanting to die together, I see." Dreven turned towards the announcer. "Hey, is it alright if the fairy joins the girl's side?"
The announcer gave a thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan!"
"Looks like we're in this together." Colten gave Seina a weak smile as she cradled him in her arms.
"Yeah." Tears dropped onto Colten's little head as Seina broke down.
She'd just made a friend, and he was now dying for her sake. Seina hugged him, holding him tight and began sobbing. The vampire crowd broke into mocking laughter, enjoying seeing this helpless girl suffer. Seina didn't care or even notice, focusing on her new friend instead. She supposed at least she wouldn't die alone. Seina held one of the fairy's legs as they waited for the end. Somehow, despite everything, some happiness bloomed in her heart. Seina was glad she'd met someone as wonderful as Colten.
"You're lucky, little girl. Two on one is much fairer odds." The vampire warrior broke into uproarious laughter. "Start the round already. I'm ready for some carnage!"
_This is it. _Seina cried out in pain and surprise as bright light blinded her, almost dropping Colten. The light faded, leaving a very confused Seina.
"What was that?"
"No way!" Colten said.
"What is it?" Colten's expression surprised Seina. Was that hope on his tiny face?
"Look down!" Colten pointed towards a strange object that hadn't been there before. Seina grabbed it without even thinking, turning it around in her hand. It was a pink-colored diamond-encrusted brooch.
"It's so pretty." Seina had seen nothing so beautiful in her life. It made the splendor the vampire lord surrounded himself with seem dull in comparison.
"You're a magical girl, Seina? I don't believe it! I'd thought only a special few could become one!" Colten was ranting, speaking at speeds almost impossible to understand. "This is amazing, spectacular!"
"What? Magical girl? What are you talking about?"
The tiny fairy's expression turned smug. "It means we can wipe the floor with these vampire creeps!"
Dreven snorted in derision. "Really?"
"I'm not following." Seina was beyond lost. How could a brooch allow her to fight? Blind the vampire to death?
"Hold you brooch up into the air and yell, Change Change, Magical Love Dress Up!"
"Okay." While certain it would make her appear ridiculous, she'd try anything at this point.
Seina stood up and gave Dreven a determined glare. She sent another one towards the vampire king himself. If this gave her power, she'd put an end to this nightmare herself. "Change Change, Magical Love Dress Up!"
Bright light engulfed Seina, and her entire body glowed a transparent blue. In a flash, everything about her body changed. Her short black hair extended into two long, luxurious braids. The bland rags she wore transformed into a pink frilly dress with a short skirt. The elaborate new costume gave Seina the vague impression of the long-dead lotus flower she'd seen in old books. A large yellow bow was across her chest, and her brooch stood in its center.
Colten laughed. "I knew it! You are a magical girl!"
"Huh?" Seina blinked and looked down at herself, both amazed and baffled.
"That's the terrible power that will destroy us all?" Dreven broke into mocking laughter, and the other vampires joined him. Lothaire chuckled, sipping at his wine. His wife only looked confused.
"That was disappointing. I was hoping for something more exciting!" Seina's mom pipped it.
"How am I meant to fight with this?" Seina gestured to herself. Except for her new pretty outfit, she didn't feel any different. How could a simple dress protect her from bloodthirsty monsters?
"What do you mean? You can totally floor him now!" Colten argued back with far more confidence than she felt. "Hold out your hand and focus. You can summon your special weapon that way."
_A special weapon! That might change this situation around! _Seina did as instructed, and a long staff appeared in her hand. Attached to its end, was a bubble blower?
Dreven snorted. "That's your great weapon?"
"Yeah! What the heck!" This magical girl deal was a rip-off!
"Well, with that mighty weapon, I better switch to something more dangerous." Dreven threw aside his sword and withdrew a pistol from the weapon rack. "Start the fight already. I'm curious what this magical girl can do."
"Don't worry, you got this," Colten said with the utmost confidence.
"What are you talking about! I have a bubble blower, and he's got a freaking gun! This isn't even remotely fair!"
"Alright. The battle will begin..." Before the announcer could finish his pronouncement, the sound of the gunshot echoed through the stadium, and Seina toppled over.
"What?" Colten said in shocked outrage. "You can't do that!"
"I'm a vampire. I don't fight fair," Dreven replied, and the crowd broke into mocking laughter. They berated the magical girl who believed anyone could defeat the ruthless, unstoppable vampires.
"Seems the fight's over with, folks! The winner is Dreven!" The announcer said, not caring about the vampire warrior breaking the rules.
"Um, actually I'm fine!" Seina stood up, shaking the dust from her dress. "It just startled me."
Much to her amazement, the bullet hadn't even scratched her skin despite striking her right in the forehead. It amused her to see the vampires shocked at her survival. Maybe victory wasn't impossible after all?
Dreven, however, didn't seem that impressed. "You survived, so what? A vampire can survive much worse." He threw away his gun and took back his sword. Without waiting for the announcer to begin the fight, he charged forward with blinding speed, sword raised to sever his opponent's head.
The colosseum's roof exploded as Dreven crashed through it, exposing the building to the chilly night air. Vampires screamed in fear and surprise as pieces of the roof collapsed on top of them. Seina stared at her extended arm in amazement.
"Wow." Seina couldn't believe her strength. She could have sworn she'd only tapped the vampire.
"Um, Seina. Your bubble blower is meant for casting spells, not a blunt weapon." Colten said. "But that works too I guess."
"Oops." Seina blushed with embarrassment.
"She won." Lilha, the vampire queen, said in the dead shocked silence.
"She has some power, I suppose." Lothaire didn't seem too impressed despite Seina's astounding display of strength.
A strange thought popped into her head. "Does this mean I win? The announcer didn't actually start the fight."
"I guess so. Congratulations!" Colten patted her on the leg.
"I'm not finished yet!" Dreven tossed people out of his path as he stomped back towards the fighting pit. The vampire warrior was soaking wet and pieces of seaweed latched to his body. Had Seina knocked him to the ocean? That was miles away.
"Oh, you're back. Ready for another butt-kicking?" Colten said. Seina nodded, not sure why the vampire had returned after she'd beaten him with little difficulty.
Dreven broke into a disturbingly wide smile. His grin stretched out unnaturally, cackling while doing so. "Foolish girl. You think you can beat me?"
The vampire warrior extended a hand and drove it into his chest. Much to Seina's horror and shock, he withdrew something red and beating. Had Dreven just torn out his own heart? Clenching his fist, he crushed it. Gore and blood oozed down his hand. Dreven's grin extended as the hole he'd torn into his chest vanished like it never existed.
"I'm not like other vampires. Destroying my heart can't kill me. Nothing can! As long as a single atom of my body exists, I can't die!"
"Okay, but was that really necessary?" Seina's stomach felt queasy, horrified by the display. He could have just told her.
The vampires in the crowd broke into mocking, jeering laughter. They sent praises towards their champion and insults towards his magical girl opponent. Lothaire gave them a tilt of his head in respect.
"Hold on!" An irritating realization struck Seina. "Why are you fighting in a colosseum if you literally can't die? That doesn't seem fair at all!"
"We've vampires, kiddo. We don't play fair." Dreven said in a purr.
"No, you're just being a jerk," Colten replied.
"So, shall we begin our game again?" Dreven withdrew a nasty-looking rusty spiked mace from the weapon's rack.
Seina, however, was unimpressed. Already, she'd grown tired of the vampire's nonsense. An idea popped into her head, and her lips curled into a small smile. Yes, that would solve her problem nicely.
"Ha! You'll find Seina not so easy to beat!" Colten said. "Use your magical bubble blower to finish this fool!"
"I can't agree more." Seina walked up to her opponent, who watched her in bemusement. She gripped her staff tight, adjusted her aim, and swung with all her strength. Dreven screamed in pain and terror as the magical girl launched his body high into the air, flying the hole in the ceiling. Seina watched as the vampire flew higher into the sky, bursting a hole through the smoke cover and disappearing into the starry night sky.
"There, he won't cause anyone any more trouble!" Seina said, proud of herself. "If he can heal himself forever, fine. But that doesn't matter if he's stuck floating in space!" It amazed her that the plan worked. Just how powerful was she now? The entire audience broke into another stunned silence.
"Seina, that isn't what I mean at all," Colten said.
"Sorry?"
"I meant for you to use your magical powers to obliterate him."
"I can do that?" Seina blushed with embarrassment.
"Yes, you're a magical girl. It's in the name." Colten sighed, then shrugged. "Well I guess a victory's a victory." A clap interrupted their conversation.
"Very amusing," Lothaire said, standing from his throne. "It appears you have some power."
"Lord Lothaire, are you going to face this child?" The vampire lord's wife asked. "Surely it's beneath you. Let me handle her. I'd love to punish a misbehaving child."
"No, this girl represents something that I can't allow to stand. The pathetic scum down there must learn that no such thing remains." Lothaire gestured to the humans, watching the scene. Seina saw what the vampire lord meant. They stared at Seina with awe, their eyes sparkling with an emotion she'd rarely seen in her short life. It created a strange bubbling feeling in her stomach.
"It looks like we're fighting the big boss guy now," Colten said. "Good, that saves time."
"Understand this, child," Lothaire said. "Dreven was the weakest of our number. A vampire of lesser capabilities. I won't be such an easy opponent."
Seina gulped and her hand trembled, not doubting the vampire king's pronouncement for a moment. When humanity fought against him, no weapon could stop him. Even a barrage of nuclear weapons had proven useless. Rumors whispered that his vampiric power made him invincible.
"Smart girl. You understand the trouble you're in. You won't even lay a hand on my husband." Lilha said. "You will die, not even realizing it until it is too late."
Lord Lothaire stared down at his opponent. His expression was unreadable, but his confidence was undeniable.
"Did you know, no weapon has ever even touched Lord Lothaire?" Lilha said, continuing her boast. "They can't. He has utter mastery of eternity."
Colten, however, seemed unperturbed. "So what? Seina will kick his pointy teeth in."
"Understand this, little fairy," Lilha said, her tone superior. "My husband's power allows him to control time. Any timeline he doesn't care for, he discards like trash."
"Time control?" Alarm had crept into Colten's face. Seina's hand trembled, realizing how much trouble they were in. What a fool she'd been thinking anyone could defeat the masters.
"He sifts through the possibilities until the one he desires comes into fruition." Lilha extended a hand, gesturing to everything around her. "Nothing ever happens unless Lord Lothaire wills it!"
Seina put her hands into her face. With some difficulty, she fought back tears, refusing to cry again in front of these monsters. So much for hope. Fate had a twisted sense of humor.
"That's not good." While Colten's confidence had faded somewhat, he continued putting up a brave face.
The entire crowd of vampires broke into applause, and Lilha soaked in their admiration. Lothaire continued to stay where he stood, impassive.
"Give us a good show, magical girl. It should be quite entertaining. Wouldn't you agree, my husband?"
Lothaire continued to stay where he stood, unresponsive. Seina blinked in confusion. Why was he just standing there, motionless? Why wasn't he bragging and jeering, as usual?
"Husband?" Lilha asked in concern.
Lothaire's body jerked uncontrollably, foam gathering around his mouth. He stumbled forward, each step clumsy and awkward. With a strangled gurgle, the vampire king toppled forwards, landing in the fighter's pit. His body jerked several more times before stopping to a halt. Dead.
"No, has he overused his power?" Lilha's voice barely rose above a whisper. Her eyes were wide in horror and disbelief.
Siena blinked. "Eh?”
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