#maybe I’ll do some more art another time of a role reversal AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crow-summoner · 3 years

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Darklina Week Day 2: Role Reversal

Sun Summoner!Darkling and Shadow Summoner!Alina

Alina, a cartographer for the Ravken Army, undertakes a dangerous mission to stay by her only friend’s side. They must cross the Forge, a hellscape of intense heat and unrelenting light that has torn their country in two. Nothing can survive the Forge for long. Nothing but the monsters that call it home. Alina thinks she and Mal will make it as long as they’re together, but when their mission falls to pieces, Alina discovers something shocking about herself. She can banish light. Her powers draw the attention of the Golden General, a military leader who scares and intrigues Alina in equal measure. One thing’s for sure. Alina can’t go back to life of a mouse, and the General’s her best option to fight for something more. Can Alina save her world, or will she die trying?

Or, an AU where light powers aren’t necessarily good, and shadow powers get to be heroic. Content warning for some volcra expy related gore and some canon-consistent sprinkles of Malina at the beginning. There’s plenty of Darkles after that, now with extra sparkles.

Story under the jump

The Forge

Alina sits at the inn window, adding the last buttery yellow lines to her painting. For being such a blight against their nation, the Forge made a lovely landscape. She dons her fabrikator sunglasses, and turning her back to the unrelenting sunlight, she lifts her tented mirror up to compare her painting to the real thing. Her superior officers would kill her if they knew what she was using their equipment for, but the Forge is too bright to look at directly. Her superiors may not appreciate art, but if she’s going to risk her life for more supplies, she wants to leave a memorial for herself.

“It looks too much like a vacation spot,” Mal says, dragging up a chair so he can sit next to her. He’s already wearing his glasses and darkened veil, which will supposedly keep the Forge from boiling their eyes out and trap moisture near their faces. Alina would be happier if more than army issued fashion stood between her and certain death.

“You make a pretty bride, you know that?” Alina says instead of responding to the criticism. There were enough horrors in the Forge. She wanted make something pleasant. She places her canvas between the shelf and the wall, hoping that someone working at the inn will find it.

Mal huffs. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw the bags under my eyes. Don’t know how people sleep around here.”

Alina supposes people can get used to anything, even perpetual daylight. She secures her mirror and knives to her belt and dons her veil and gloves. She shimmies down the narrow walkway as if showing off the latest fashion. “What do you think?”

Mal makes a show of considering it, rubbing his chin under the veil. “I think the sveta will be too smitten to eat you.”

Alina tilts her head in mock coyness. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me.” She leaves it unspoken that she wishes someone else was smitten with her.

“Come on,” Mal says, taking her by the arm. “I want to be on time for once.”

By the time they reach the skiff, Alina and Mal are five minutes late. Thankfully, Alexei, her fellow cartographer, covered for her.

“You owe me,” he says, shoving her maps into her hands.

“I’ll bake you a cake,” Alina promises.

“You already owe me twelve cakes!”

“Then I’ll name my first born after you.”

Alexei snorts. “Like any of us are going to live long enough to have kids. We’re all going to be beef jerky in a few hours.”

“Squeak. Squeak, Alexei.” It’s the code their cartographers have for when Alexei’s boundless optimism is bringing them down.

Normally, Alexei would grumble but acquiesce. Today, he just stares at the skiff. “Do you really think the sveta are real?”

Alina shrugs. “What else could eat our men out there?” Admittedly, invisible creatures made of light sounded farfetched, but she’s seen the battle scars. Other soldiers had claw mark scars across their chest and spots where something inhuman had taken a bite out of them. The light could blister, burn and tan flesh, but it couldn’t do that.

“I dunno. Maybe him,” Alexei said, eyeing the golden carriage in the distance. “The Geldling.”

Alina quickly hushes him. General Kirigan tolerates others calling him the Golden General, but he does not take kindly to the Geldling. Sure, the epitaph was based on an old Kerch word for gold, but gelding is also what one did to a prized horse to keep it docile. It was as good as saying their leader is a ballless pet, and everyone knows it.

Sure enough, one of the heartrenders lifts his veil and glares at them. He might have been handsome once, but his sour expression makes the lines on his face hard.

“Captain Herring may be rough, but he’s not a cannibal.” Alina hopes this is enough to cover over their mistake. The heartrender doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t fight them either. That suited Alina well enough.

“Watch what you say,” she whispers to Alexei. “We have to depend on these people to survive. Don’t make them mad.”

Alexei nods. “Sorry.”

Thankfully, the rest of their time at the dock goes smoothly. Soon, all the soldiers and Girsha gather inside the metal skiff, ready to take off. A tidemaker hoses them all down, making Alina feel like a drenched rat, but the water is important in such a hot place.

Alina makes sure to stand by Mal, gripping his arm for support as the skiff slides along the sand. There’s enough space to move around, but something about the lack of windows makes the room feel unbearably tight. It’s like one big coffin.

Squeak, squeak, Alina tells herself. No one’s going to die today.

The skiff rattles as they pass over marker zero. They’re officially in the Forge. The panels in the side of the skiff slide up. Rows of dark nets allow squallers to force air out without letting the light in. They’ll have to use the tinted mirrors along the sides of the skiff to direct it.

Alina fans herself, wishing the nets could ease the heat. She was drenched just minutes ago, but her uniform’s now bone dry. Sure, the tidemakers periodically release a mist from their fancy containers and push it around the cabin, but that’s like giving a starving man a single bite.

“I bet I can sweat more than you,” Mal jokes, and she’s sure it’s to help distract her. Even the dumbest man in their unit wouldn’t brag about that.

“No way. Sweat more than that heartrender over there, and you have a deal,” she whispers back. It was a hard challenge. The heartrender already smelled like he’d bathed in nothing but used socks for years.

Mal leans back in shock. “Yikes. Are you trying to kill me? I can’t beat that.”

Alexei sniffs beside them, rubbing under his veil. “My lids are scraping my eyeballs.”

Alina reaches over and slaps his hand the way she used to do with the younger kids at the orphanage. “Then stop picking at them.”

Alexei mumbles. He’s a good cartographer, but he also comes from money, and that didn’t always make for a good soldier. Alina wonders if she should have erased his name instead of Ruby’s. This mission called for two cartographers, and Ruby could withstand discomfort better than he could, but Alina wasn’t thinking rationally. Mal was going to go into the Forge by himself, and Alina needed to remove someone so she could forge her own name on the mission papers. Mal wouldn’t give Alexei a second glance, but Ruby had red hair and a slim figure. Alina couldn’t risk Mal having “glad we’re still alive” sex with her after the mission. It was petty, childish even, but Alina couldn’t help herself. If they all survive the skiff, she’ll woman up and tell Mal how she feels. Lord knows hanging in this middle ground wasn’t doing either of them any favors.

The skiff shakes, and Alexei grabs the walls. “Saints! It’s the sveta.”

The squaller at the helm shushes him. “Just a bump. Don’t call attention to us.”

Alexei’s shoulders slump, but he retakes his position behind the squaller without another word.

Alina can’t help but lean around her squaller to peak in her mirror. She’d heard about calcified roots surviving the Forge long after the crops perished. The real thing must be prettier than the paintings. Instead of a root, Alina finds the fragments of a skull and the front of a skiff.

She steps back, her stomach sinking into her boots. It’s one thing to know the odds, but it’s another to stare the evidence in the face. Better men than them have failed to cross.

The crew stand in silence as the skiff passes the first marker. Alina gives her squaller the proper directions and distances, and soon they pass the second marker. The third. The fourth. Alina allows herself to hope. Just eleven more and they’re home free.

She scratches her arm, and flakes of dry skin come off. No wonder the skiff regulars look like leather. She’d rather go AWOL than do this again. Then again, she didn’t have be here this time either. She has no one to blame but herself.

The skiff rumbles and tilts. It’s just another bump, she assures herself, but something raps against the ceiling. The heartrenders tense up, and the squallers shift their positions.

Oh, no.

She checks on Mal just to be sure, but he’s clutching his gun tight, his head tilted up. It’s the same stance he took when he found that rabbit in a barren forest or when he was about to catch her during hide and seek. He’s sighted something, only this time, that something is stronger than them.

The squaller at the helm brings the skiff to a stop and signals for the shooters and heartrenders to take position. All the non-combat staff – cartographers included – must gather at the center. Alina takes out her knife and her tented mirror, praying she won’t have to use them.

“Protect yourselves if you must,” the squaller whispers, “but don’t get in anyone’s way.”

Alina’s never felt more useless in her life.

The skiff continues to shake, harder this time. Something whines above them. Something answers it’s call from somewhere in front of them. Another whine sounds from behind the skiff. From all sides. How many of them are out there? At least a dozen given the sheer number of cries. No one dares make a sound. The sveta are fierce, but they’re just as blind as a human in the Forge. Maybe if they don’t hear anything, they’ll get bored and hunt elsewhere.

The ceiling dents in with a clank, knocking the skiff to the right. One of the soldiers jumps at the sound, aiming where it came from. The squaller at the helm blows him away, but not in time. The shot blows a hole in the ceiling, letting the light in. The beam hits a tidemaker’s shoulders, carving a smoking black line through her kefta. She screams, tearing off the cloth to expose a blistering gash. A healer pulls her to the side as one her friends tries to stifle her screams with a damp cloth, but it’s too late. The sveta cries draw closer.

Something claws a large hole through the ceiling, the soldiers scrambling to avoid the new beams. Some squallers attempt to blow up a tarp to cover the open areas, but it stops in thin air. No. Not thin air. The tarp drapes over something Alina can’t see with her naked eye. Under the plastic, she can make out its large, pointed wings and snout.

“Blast it,” the squaller at the helm shouts, and the soldiers open fire on the creature. It whines, batting away the tarp, and then it’s gone.

For a moment, no one makes a move. The cabin is utterly silent. Then something flashes across Alina’s mirror, and the next thing she knows, the soldier beside her explodes in a splash of red. On the other side of the skiff, a healer’s hand disappears. He draws back, clutching his now bloody stump as one of the creatures screeches in triumph.

Alina backs up, though there’s nowhere left to go. Oh, saints. She should have never come here. She begs every saint she can think of to forgive whatever sin brought her to this horrible moment. Shooting her fellow man in combat. Wishing harm to the girls Mal so much as looked at. Disregarding Ana Kuya’s rules at every turn. Whatever it was, she repented. Just please don’t let her die at some monster’s hand.

The durasts burst dust in the air. It makes their own people cough, but it helps make the sveta more visible.

BAM!

Another chunk of ceiling caves in, forcing the crew to huddle along the perimeter to escape the light. Not all of them were quick enough. Several soldiers blister and peel, crying as the sveta tear off chunks of flesh from their bodies.

Alina can only stare. It’s too late for prayers. Too late to run. She should have talked Mal into fleeing while she had the chance, and now ... Alina holds out her mirror, a new hope setting in. They might not make it out, but she can at least die by Mal’s side. He has to know how she feels.

Alina slowly shifts through the chaos, dodging shots and beams of light. She finds him by the helm, taking deep breaths as he aims and shoots. Something heavy hits the floor, gurgling. Of course. Leave it to Mal to find the creatures without a mirror.

She shines her mirror in the direction the creature fell, hoping to avoid tripping its body, but to her surprise, she can just make out the sheen of its skin. The colors change as she tilts the mirror, first blue, then pink and maybe green. All the colors of the rainbow. It reminds her of looking through a prism. Not invisible then. The sveta are just reflective.

Alina giggles. Ana Kuya would be so proud of her, committing to her education even as she’s about to die. She keeps giggling over and over, knowing that if she stops, she’ll have to cry. There are just so many bodies around her. They used to be people, and now they’re meat.

Someone grabs her wrist, and a shot of energy courses through her, quieting the hysteria. Mal drags her beside him.

“I’m sorry,” she says, but he’s busy readying his next shot. “I lo – ” She doesn’t get any further. Another soldier’s bullet ricochets off the wall and hits Mal in the shoulder. He doubles over, his gun clattering to the floor.

Alina drops her mirror, pressing a palm against the wound. The blood seeps from between her fingers no matter how hard she tries to stop the flow.

Mal slides to the floor, Alina crouching beside him. The light streams against them, burning her chest and his back. The pain means nothing compared to the loss.

“No. Not like this,” she says, covering Mal’s body with her own.

The pain in her back only lasts a second. It occurs to her that this is not a good thing. It means her nerves have been eaten away, but she’s glad to do it if it means Mal can live.

Something rumbles in the pit of her stomach. She feels like she’s going to burst, and she doesn’t have the strength to fight it.

All around her, the creatures cry and flap their wings erratically. She doesn’t have time think about it as the world goes dark, sinking her into a deep oblivion.

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

Alina wakes, draped over someone’s shoulder, face buried in the red cloth of his kefta. She only lifts her head for one moment, but the light’s unbearable.

The light?

“Mal,” Alina shouts. She wiggles to free herself from the Grisha’s grip. The sveta will come back at any moment. She has to find Mal. Protect him. Where is he?

But they’re not on the skiff anymore. They’re back at the dock, the skiff a shredded husk. People rush every which way, some tending to the wounded and some salvaging the cargo from the hold. Mal could be anywhere among them. Then Alina catches sight of the ground. Oh, saints! So many people lay unmoving on the dock, and Grisha and First Army soldiers keep dragging out more. All these people she trained with. Ate with. Sung bawdy songs with when they’d all had too much kvas. Dead. They can’t all be gone. Right? Right?

Alina kicks at the Grisha. She needs to see for herself who made it out. Mal better be among them. Of course, he would be. He was the best tracker Ravka’s ever seen. He’d always find his way back home. Home to her.

The Grisha swears at her, trying to stop her feet with one arm. “Be still.” She recognizes him. The heartrender that had sneered at Alexei’s comment earlier. Alina drives a fist in the heartrender’s back. If Grisha like him had done more they wouldn’t be in the situation. He did it on purpose, didn’t he? He let their soldiers die because someone spoke against his leader. His pride meant more than the supplies they’d get from West Ravka. More than human life.

“Fine.” With a huff, the Grisha drops her flat on her butt, sand puffing in her face. She’s coughing too much to fight him off when the heartrender takes her by her bicep and drags her towards the camp. Another heartrender takes her other arm, his grip gentler than his coworker’s.

“Was that necessary, Ivan?” The second heartrender asked.

Ivan only grunts “Fedyor” as a warning in response. Fedyor shakes his head with what Alina would call fondness if she thought anyone could be fond of something as sour as Ivan.

“Where’s Mal?” Alina asks Fedyor, but he only lifts a brow. Of course, he wouldn’t recognize the name of a common solider. There were so many of them, and Grisha only concerned themselves with their own. “The boy I was with on the skiff.”

“Ah. Him,” Fedyor says. “The First Army tends to their own wounded. He’s in their care.”

Alina knows what that means. He’s laying outside the infirmary tent, waiting for his turn to have an undertrained medic pour alcohol in his wounds then pack them with mustard plaster. If he’s lucky, they’ll still have enough bandages for him to get his own. Having to use the scraps from old uniforms inevitably led to infection, and without supplies from the west, the camp outpost could not provide the steady diet of alcohol needed to survive that misery. Mal is popular, though. She’s sure someone will be willing to sacrifice their stash for his comfort.

Then it occurs to her that she’s not doing the same thing. She’d been horribly burned by the light, and yet her back doesn’t ache. Someone must have removed her jacket while Alina was unconscious, but her undershirt is scorched where the light hit it. Her chest is unusually red, but it’s not blistering or charred. The worst she can say is that she feels like she’s been awake for days.

“Why would someone heal me?” She’s heard it a thousand times before. Healers were too rare to waste on common soldiers. They were for Grisha and those wealthy enough to be a priority. She is neither, and yet when she looks up at Fedyor, he’s gazing down at her with some feeling she dares not define. It was the same look the Grisha gave the golden carriage when it barreled into the encampment. The same look the peasants near Keramzin gave the bones of Saint Felix on his day of worship. If she didn’t know better, she’d call it reverence.

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity when he finally says, “We survived.” Alina doesn’t know what she has to do with that. It was luck. Pure and simple. But then Fedyor closes his eyes and whispers, “Thank you.”

A chill runs through Alina despite the heat. She looks at the tents, the people running around them, anywhere and everywhere but at Fedyor and that look, full of expectations she can never fill. They’ve long since passed the First Army section, but they’re now leaving the main Grisha area, heading up the northmost path. There’s nothing there except for the single yellow tent towering over the rest of the encampment.

Alina pulls back, but it does nothing to stop the heartrenders. “What does the General want with me?”

“Just answer his questions, so we call all get on with our day,” Ivan says.

“I don’t know anything! Let go of me!” She turns to look back at the First Army camp, too far away for anyone to see her let alone help. Not that they could do anything if they wanted to. No one says no to the General.

Fedyor grips the back of her neck, and her whole body turns to puddy. The heartrenders lean into her, holding her upright because her knees can no longer bear her weight. She’s too relaxed to move at all.

Ivan sniffs. “You weren’t supposed to do that for anyone but me.”

Fedyor grins. “Sorry, luv. Desperate times and all that.”

They march her straight into the lion’s den.

She doesn’t know what she expected to see. A jeweled throne and a menagerie of exotic animals like the ones she’d seen in the illustrated book of fairy tales back at the orphanage? Enemy soldiers kept in cages and chained otkazat’sya serving the Grisha like the Fjerdan pamphlet a traveler tried to give them before Ana Kuya kicked them off the duke’s property? But this place resembled the main tent for the First Army. Soldiers clustered together around a round table. A large map hung from a board, thread and pegs marking paths, places and interesting parties. And yet the General’s tent was larger than theirs, made of bulletproof core cloth while they had to make do with spun cotten. They must not need to ration oil either given the number of lamps lit, and the gathered Grisha shone like banners in their blue, red and purple keftas. No olive drab for them.

Most of the room turned to face them when the heartrenders dragged Alina in. Some now look at her with open curiosity and others with incredulous expressions. Soft mummers pass through the crowd until someone raises their hand, and the whole lot fall silent. Saints, Alina never heard a tent so quiet before. Even during lights out, at least one person snored.

Without needing to be told, the Grisha step back, parting down the center to make a path. A lone man strides forward, his telltale yellow kefta billowing around him. Notes of silver, white and gold weave through it, enough thread to stitch three tents of this size together, but he’s not wearing the jewelry she’d expect from his high rank, and his clothes are core cloth like any other Grisha. She’s never seen a high officer without any silk on, no matter how impractical it might be. After all, most never saw battle. Not like this one had.

The Golden General is younger than she’d expected given what others said about him. She’d seen a shriveled man with boney hands covered in warts in her mind’s eye, but this man barely had a decade on her, and his warm blonde hair and fair, flawless complexion were pleasing on the eyes. Too pleasing. Even the most beautiful boy back home had some freckle or ruddiness to his skin, but the General’s looks almost painted on. It’s eerie, and yet she can’t look away. He’s like the very embodiment of the light, except there’s a coldness in his gaze and calm comportment.

He may be light, but he’s not warmth.

That right, she tells herself. Ana Kuya warned her about such things before. One of the orphans she’d grown up with saw a gold coin glittering in some bushes under a hill. He’d climbed down for it, only to be rolled by some travelers. They took the buttons from his coat and the boots from his feet. He came home with nothing but his pants and a gash on his forehead. Ana Kuya warned them all then: not all that’s gold glitters. Sometimes, it burns instead. Gold tempts the desperate, but Alina is not blind. The General only looked like a man. He can boil someone’s insides. Make their flesh rot from their bone as if they were already dead. Burn them with a glance. And here he is, looking straight at her.

The General stops a few feet away and clasps his hands behind his back. He looks her over, and she doesn’t know whether to be scared or grateful that she can’t read what conclusions he’s drawn. He nods at the heartrenders, and Fedyor rubs the back of Alina’s neck. Her limbs come back to life, panic rising from her core. She wants to run, but there’s no point.

The General stares at her, impassive, and then finally: “Is it true?”

For a moment, Alina believes the absurd. He’s read her thoughts and knows what she said about him being a monster. Then it occurs to her that he’s talking about the skiff. She closes her eyes. What does he want her to say? She was unconscious for most of what went down, and she can barely remember what she was present for. Flashes of her coworker’s blood and blistering arms intrude behind her closed lids, forcing them open again. Maybe it’s best she can’t remember.

She must have taken too long to answer because the General speaks again. “Is it true that you can banish the light?”

All Alina can do is blink. This has to be a joke, but the General’s expression is serious, and everyone around them is leaning in with anticipation. She knows better than to laugh in their faces and question their intelligence, so she makes do by stuttering, “No one can do that.” It takes a moment, but she remembers to add a quick “sir.” She’s not used to being around anyone important.

She braces herself for him to yell at her the way the generals in their army do, but he merely nods. “Then what did happen?”

Alina struggles for an answer. She tries to tell him that she doesn’t know how the sveta got in, or how their ship made it, but no matter what she says, she keeps returning to those burning soldiers. The General frowns, and she knows she needs to come up with something – anything – to appease him.

The General raises a hand to silence her, and when he speaks, his tone is smooth and calm. “It must have been scary out there. It’s one thing to read about the attacks, but it’s another to live it.”

Alina hadn’t expecting any sympathy, so she just nods.

“You must be exhausted.” When Alina nods again, the General continues. “It’s hard to make sense of anything when you hurt so much. I could help with that if you’ll let me.” He gestures beside him, inviting her closer.

He may have asked for permission, but Alina isn’t sure she really has a choice. Still, he’s been nothing but polite so far. She has nothing to lose by playing along.

Alina slowly closes the gap between them, and the closer she gets, the closer she wants to get. It’s like he’s a magnet, and she’s loose filigree coming together for the first time. She feels the warmth now, not in his continence, but all around him. It doesn’t burn. It doesn’t tingle. It numbs the heaviness of her limbs and banishes the panic that’s haunted her since the skiff penetrated the Forge. Before she knows it, Alina’s pressed up against the General. She’s vaguely aware that it’s not appropriate to stand so close to a superior, and it’s definitely not safe to be within biting distance of a monster, but it feels right. She doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

The General doesn’t seem to mind either, staring deep into her eyes like he’s trapped, too. Her reflection stares back at her in his eyes. They’re just so bright and shiny. She has a hard time placing the color. It reminds her of one of the duke’s vases. The blown glass was iridescent and shimmered with every color around it. She and Mal had argued for years over what color it really was. He said purple. She said green. They finally settled things with a good arm wrestle. Green won, of course. Alina decides that the General’s eyes are green, too.

“May I?” He asks, and though she can’t see where he’s pointing, she answers his unspoken request, sliding her hand in his. His palms are rough from life on the road, but they’re warm, and his grip os gentler than Fedyor’s had been. She could hold his hand and stare into his eyes forever.

“What happened?” The General asks in a voice softer than silks.

The words spill out of Alina on their own. She tells him about forging her name on the staff list. The attack. Shielding Mal. The sveta descending on them, and then – “All I could look at was him, but I could feel the light getting sucked away. Everything went black, and then I woke up on the docks.”

The General says nothing, but his eyes briefly narrow. It’s not a threat as far as Alina can tell. Whatever she said seemed to confirm something for him. The General pushes up her sleeve with his free hand, never breaking her gaze. She doesn’t fight it. She’s curious, too. Something happened back on that skiff. It’s there lurking there in the back of her brain, begging to be revealed. She knows once it’s free, it can never be caged again. The thought simultaneously thrills her and makes her shiver.

The General trails one finger up her arm. Something inside her responds to act, rejoices in it. His finger stops and curls around her forearm. She notes that the nail on his thumb is longer than the others. Sharp. He drives that nail into her flesh, and it’s like a thousand arms stream out of her at once.

Darkness surrounds them, putting out the lights. No, the lamps are still on. She can feel their flames licking at the shadows just as easily as she can feel the General’s grip on her arm. All around them, the Grisha shout. She can’t see them so much as she feels where they are in the dark. It the strangest sensation, and yet it feels like home. Everything is darkness.

Everything but him.

The General glows, smiling down at her. A true lamp would illuminate the world around them, but there he stands, the sole bright spot in the blackness. Standing together, it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. Then the General lets go of her arm and the darkness withers, fading into the ground or retreating under Alina’s skin to fight another day.

Alina clutches her chest, suddenly empty inside. Her head swivels every which way, desperate to find that surety again, but it’s gone. The aches have returned, magnified tenfold. She can barely keep herself upright, and soon, she’s on her knees, her head swimming.

“A shadow summoner,” some squaller says, and it’s as if a dam broke in Alina’s mind. She stares at her rough, ruddy hands. They’re not the hands of a hero, and yet it’s true. It’s all true. She can banish the light. She saved the skiff from the Forge.

She’s … Grisha.

Alina frowns, remembering what Mal said when that Grisha girl made eyes at him from the General’s carriage. He doesn’t tumble witches. Alina was glad to hear it then. It meant less competition for her, and she and Mal had exchanged plenty of digs at the Grisha over the years. Surely, he wouldn’t think she’s like the rest of them just because she has powers. She didn’t grow up coddled and self-important like the rest of them. That had to count for something. He knew her. The real her. He wouldn’t be scared of her because of her shadows.

No matter how hard Alina tries, she can’t bring herself to believe it.

The General holds out his hand. Alina stares up at him, sure she should bat it away. She’s not one of his Grisha. She’s a mapmaker and an orphan and Mal’s best friend. But that may not be true anymore, and she’d be a fool to burn any bridges.

She takes his hand, letting the General lift her to her feet. He pulls her close again, so close she can feel his breath against her face. She should let go, but she clings to his hand like it’s the last safe ledge in a rockslide. He gives her a knowing smirk, and she wants to wipe it off his stupid face. She’s had a rough day. She would have clung to literally anybody, but then the General leans in, and she feels that warmth again. His lips brush her ear as he whispers, “You and I are going to change the world.”

Notes:

Whoo! This is my first Grishaverse fanfic. It may be a little late, but it’s here. One shot for now, but I might be interested in continuing this in the future. Hope you enjoyed!

#shadow and bone #grisha trilogy #darklinadaily #darklinaweek2021 #the darkling #alina starkov #darklina

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ladychandraofthemoone · 3 years

Photo

Penny in her summer outfit, yes it’s completely inspired by Cynthia’s summer regular wear and I was in love with it, it’s still a wip and I have some changes like fixing her toes and coloring her in like her ombre pink to purple hair and shirt cause I can’t do that yet. Yes her pose is like Cynthia’s and her concept art pose

*Her two buns are held by scrunchies covered in mini diamonds and pearls (Hah pun 😅😂), are fake but people don’t believe her, her accessories are still the same (added a pearl bracelet and diamond ring) but her mini skull necklace has her keystone to Mega evolve her metagross, same color as it, make up wears pink lipstick and purple eyeshadow, being a summer goth

Gray striped bell bottom with fuzz trims and Pants have a Arceus ring design at as well an wavy curls plus dots at the end above her fuzzy trims, Arceus ring for her belt buckle cause she’s a goddess even though she insists she isn’t but like Marinette and Marianne, has befriended every mythical and legendary pokemon, including having dreams about Arceus and the creation trio who end up adopting Penny and her found champion family, so no surprise if Giratina pops up to say hello

Yes I gave her braided dreadlocks and long hair (box braids while her fellow champion and friend Camilla Hombee has the waist length twists hairstyle) cause I want to give a bit of homage towards her inspiration and is it bad that I want more hair representation that isn’t seen as ugly? This is still practicing hairstyles so forgive if it’s messy and yes her eye is covered on purpose cause of an incident I’ll talk about later

Hair and shirt are ombre color fading from light pink to hot/dark pink to magenta to purple/violet(Hair) while being reverse with her sleeveless shirt with a golden teardrop ornament on her shirt, the same goes with her hair buns, huge earrings and mini belt. Has multiple mini piercings in her ears which she covers in jewelry inspire by her mom and grandma’s home regions

Her hair is base off the bi flag colors which she dyed from her natural dark purple hair as an act/sign of rebellion and lets it loose since she use to wear it in a bun or ponytail as she got older, her child hair was shoulder length in braids, same with her diamond and pearl jewels like her diamond ring, pearl bracelet and her pearl/diamond earrings. Heck, even her scrunchies are of the bi colors with pink pearls and purple diamonds plus a Giratina tattoo on her back

Anywho here are my random hcs about Penny’s personality and personal life down below, cause it long:

Her’s name is short for Pandeia, a moon goddess who was the daughter of Selene or another name for Selene, fits her role with being exceeding lovely amongst the deathless gods and is the polar opposite of Phoibos (PV Gabriel), her villain of her region, and her former first childhood best friend who slowly losing his sanity over time and jealous of her, much to her shock and devastation since she as a kid had low self esteem in her childhood and teen years, she’s was nerdy and a huge geek in history and legends, having a soft-spoken voice leading her to become a historian and archeologist maybe teacher on world history (in this au, she’s not Jagged’s assistant) very professional, helpful and hardworking champion, trying very hard to make her region a better and safer place, thus earning the respect of many including her people and the rest of her fellow champions.

Penny is known as the most strongest and “toughest” champion as not only does she become serious in battle, there is since very few has even managed to defeat her but even then they can’t take her title from her and has a tendency to strike fear into other’s heart without even knowing her just by hearing her name. Despite this, Penny is great problem solver and tries her best to look at both sides. While nice though, don’t get on her bad side or make her mad as she can take on a curt and confrontational persona who rips people to shreds that can even rival Felix! Despite her often taking more than she can chew and has hidden anxiety which she tends to study it off and work to the point of overwhelming herself and passing out in exhaustion or not sleeping at all drinking coffee, trying to make her region a better and safe place though she hides this part of her well.

She is on the spectrum, and mild OCD stemming from her perfectionism leaning towards the mild side but she tend to hide her anxieties and flaws cause to her eyes, she didn’t want to be taken as a failure even though she’s still a very well respected leader. Is neurotic, prone to anxiety, and quite socially awkward but more as child/teen, she’d rather read books and talk to pokemon and would rather hang out in a library or museum for hours till closing time, the one who has all straight A’s and would do the work early and be ahead of all of her classes who has a fear of disappointing others and trouble saying no plus was often teased by her classmates for being a recluse and her height leading her to be wary of meeting new people and thinks she would mess up her relationships. Still she as she is older, often suffering with workaholic tendencies and a strive for perfection but has hidden them quite well

Penny bonds with Marinette due to them being quiet worry anxoiety prone but still caring for others, would put their lives for them and being a fellow aspie. Often falls asleep on her textbooks even as she got older as she tends to lose herself in her research and can read for days, often having her fellow champion friends text her or call her or have her pokemon look after her as she literally buries herself in books. Despite her inseurcites, thanks to her friends and pokemon, becomes more confident, proud and cares for herself She is incredibly smart, can speaks 7 languages including Kalosian, Pokenish, Pokeugese, Japanese along with reading ancient language in Unown, Braille, Morse Code, sign language and is still considered to be a famous liked icon.

Penny is very interested in mythology, often spends her time researching and exploring various sites associated with Legendary pokemon of the Sinnoh region. Same goes with legends of other places as she loves very story of pokemon but enjoys the dark side of legendary pokemon tales like Darkari, Yveltal, Necrozma, Eterneaus,often wishing to befriend these pokemon with horrible reputations and reading those for a bedtime story or begging her parents or grandma to tell her, often being secretly gleeful on learning about them. Ironically she hates being spooked or surprised as she fights back and hates horror movies that don’t involve pokemon but enjoys listening to the Pokedex’s entries and debunking or supporting the terrifying theories and has many scary looking pokemon, a love for them plus a hidden love for macabre and the dark arts.

Use to be easily overwhelmed and cracked under pressure but doesn’t show it and hides it behind a profession calm face. Reason why was they went on their journeys together. Penny was a natural throughout the challenge (much to her surpisie, while Phoibos was a powerful trainer but not as efficient at earning badges and was.. less “approachable” than Penny. She just woke up one day and foinds out he packed everything and left from the Pokemon Center without saying goodbye, didn’t answer his phone, doesn’t know why he disappeared after she got her final badge, but suspects it might have something to do with people calling him “Penny’s sidekick” and saying that he was “slowing her down.” She’d love to reach out and reconnect, but hasn’t seen him since they were kids, well she’s get the angst/tearjerker of her life once she finds out who’s behind Team Kosmos’s antics (there’s much pain and tears)

She regrets not doing much to defend him as tried to help but she sucked at defending herself and was shocked and flattered at the attention and rise of popularity. First met him at the library as they both reached for a book at the same time, ended up giving it to him and offered him which chapters and what other books he would like he should read cause she’d them all, massive bookworm and despite his deadpan look, end up bonding and talking over time, like introducing themselves and info dumping on one another. It felt nice to have someone to listen to and not be told to shut up, was the more confident and happy one in their duo, gushed over Phoïbos mechanical creations and getting close to his face, nose touching and smiling widely as she excitedly asked which tale he liked

Needless to say, they became friends (Phoïbos was rather awkward in expressing it) and her grandma, would be so happy that she has a friend and immediately find out about his horrible sad home life and would’ve adopted him (his granfather wanted to do it as Penny looks like a simple, yet highly organized woman, perhaps even handing a bit of OCD or perfectionism when it comes to doing things for the man she works for. Penny is on top of things, often times multitasking throughout the day and always getting the job done. Although it’s a working relationship and Penny is paid for her work, Everyone is very appreciative of her

But he left on his journey with Penny as they also bonded over being seen as “weridos” or “freaks” as she has her left eye being lighter than her right one, living in Celestic Town with people attached to traditions and old ways, a lots of them fell under the superstitious trope too, and little Penny had heard many times about her heterochromia being associated with bad luck. One of the kids one day managed to hurt her hard enough to leave a scar over her eyebrow and she has covered it up since. She prefers covering her eye anyways, as she considers it to be less noticeable. Phoibos stated with a straight face (and.. was that a faint trace of a smile?!) after she told him her story on why she has this “mysterious goth vibe” that they were the most beautiful color he seen

She, his grandfather and her family was the only one who cared for him, giving him gifts on his birthday, showing up on special important events, the one he fondly remembered her making him friendship bracelet for his 10th birthday as they were sit in a meadow of flowers (moonflowers and sunflowers)which Penny said inspired by her mother’s side of the family who wore tribal jewelry to represent their status and color symbolism, red for him and a white bracelet for her, plus it reminded her of him as she quietly apologizes for being the only who came to his birthday before her family planned them and states that they aren’t good (it’s the only thing he kept during their falling out). He internally regretted injuring her again on her covered eye, making a more visible scar on her face and was the more logic of the duo, sucked at comforting Penny but tried

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sun-daddy-yoriichi · 4 years

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Kimetsu no Yaiba Role - Reverse AU : Pillar Version

I’m not planning on this being long as all hell but let’s see if it gets out of hand or not :)

Sun Pillar : Yoriichi Tsugikuni

I ALMOST WASN’T GONNA INCLUDE HIM BUT I HAD TO-

My entire account is named after his come on have more faith in me.

Okay but I feel like the twins would get a lot of outside attention

Not because they’re Demon Slayers but because they’re hot as fuck

But that could also just be me

Nobody knows how or when Yoriichi learned Sun Breathing. It hasn’t been used in hundreds of years, and it’s supposed to be incredibly difficult to master, and he’s like twenty-five being able to wield it with complete ease.

Michikatsu thinks his brother is the most annoying thing ever

They spar constantly

Yoriichi thinks that Nezuko and Tanjirou are the cutest things ever, and Nezuko knowing what Dance of the Fire God is, is really only a huge plus.

The twins fight over who gets Nezuko as a tsuguko constantly.

Moon Pillar : Michikatsu Tsugikuni

Everyone’s favourite motherfucker y'know-

Jk we love him

His Moon Breathing is not like his Blood Demon Art at all, really. His Blood Demon Art was a corrupt form of his Breath Style. In actuality, his Breath Style is much finer and more graceful.

If I’ll be honest, his breath style is actually quite beautiful.

Like Breath of the Sun, his Breath of the Moon almost looks like a dance.

Michikatsu and Yoriichi fighting together is a sight to behold, and a force to be reckoned with.

If only Michikatsu could stand to be in the same room as his brother for more than five seconds at a time.

When he goes on missions, he tries to keep it as low-key as possible. He hates having people looking at him

And he’s not the type of person to fail on his missions at all. Which is why it was so surprising for the others to figure out that he had let the Kamado children go.

Mostly because Tanjirou reminded him a lot of Yoriichi, so he couldn’t help himself from sparing them both.

Ice Pillar : Douma

Another favourite, surprisingly. A lot of people like Douma and it’s very confusing.

Other than Rui, he's one of the youngest Pillars (16).

Of course he still uses his fans rather than a Nichirin blade. And effectively, too.

Douma is one of the fastest Pillars out of them, aside from maybe Yoriichi and Michikatsu.

Obviously, Ice Breathing is descended from Water Breathing. Rather than flowing attacks, however, most of them have more strength added to them, in order to pack quite a punch.

He’s a bastard and we all know it.

Usually, Douma is given missions that are difficult even for a Pillar’s standards, but still out of the way of civilisation.

Because his breath technique is DESTRUCTIVE.

He’s basically the same as his demon counterpart, except he doesn’t eat humans.

But he’s still a damn sociopath

We all love him though

Soryu Pillar : Akaza

Haha I didn’t know what else to put for him-

His fighting style is strongly based around the Soryu Style he was taught before he became a Demon Slayer. He ends up using hand-to-hand combat a lot more than he uses his Nichirin blade.

Which means he rarely has to commission a new blade if his breaks, because he only uses it slay the demon near the very end of their fight. Nothing more.

He’s a very respectful opponent. Unlike other Demon Slayers, he won’t goad or insult his opponent. He doesn’t hate demons, like some Pillars do.

Because his fianceé was turned into a demon, and he would want to respect her if he ever ran into her during one of his missions.

Thus, all of his missions are ended quickly, and with great respect. Any demon that’s run into him and lived to tell the tale always holds him in such high regards (for a Demon Slayer, at least).

His main job is to keep Douma and Enmu in check, though.

Urami Pillar : Hantengu

Can you tell that I have no inspiration for some of these names

Urami means 'resentment' which makes sense for Hantengu since he hates demons for killing his family and deforming his face.

Despite visiting several doctors, the appearance of the pair of horns on his head remains a mystery.

Some Demon Slayers think he's got demon blood in him, but nothing has been confirmed.

He doesn't have a designated Breath style at all.

Rather, you could call his technique 'Universal Breathing'. If he's had enough training with a certain Breath style, he can use it. Which means he can basically learn all of them if he wants.

He's mastered two : Wind and Flame. He knows bits and pieces of others, but usually wimps out before he can continue training.

His sword gets broken a lot for no reason at all. His swordsmith hates his guts, but always pulls through with a new blade.

His crow is old and cranky, but they get along just fine.

Water Pillar : Gyokko

I mean that’s basically what he is-

He's fabulous

And he'll make sure everyone knows it right after they meet him.

(Nezuko lowkey hates him)

Most of the time, he's not given as many missions as his teammates. He's left to his own devices.

Which means that his territory to patrol - perhaps just around the capitol - is very well protected.

His tsuguko, Sabito, is cute as all hell, but will kick your ass if he needs to. He looks up to Gyokko, and thinks really highly of him.

Most of the other Pillars think there's something wrong with Sabito-

But he's a strong Demon Slayer, so they don't question Gyokko's teaching methods.

Blood Pillar : Gyuutarou

Irritable as all hell

But he loves his sister and would do anything for her.

Rather than use swords, he uses sickles

Yes yes very dramatic thank you Gyuutarou-

He gets cold easily (being so skinny and all), so he stays bundled up often

Daki gets mad at him if he’s not careful, so they often get into fights with one another

Which ends up with Akaza pulling them apart and putting them in time-out

Missions that he’s sent on are often ended quickly and precisely. He’s usually paired up with Rui or Daki, since both of those two Pillars are incredibly good at long-ranged combat, while Gyuutarou is more adept at short/mid-ranged combat

Blood Breathing is derived from Water Breathing, but Gyuutarou also equips the use of the poison that Daki makes in order to get the upper hand on his opponents.

He’s had a tsugukos before, but his training was so harsh that they quit on him. He hasn’t taken another one after that.

Silk Pillar : Daki

Designated medic in the Demon Slayer Corps.

She’s very skilled at not only making antidotes but making poisons out of wisteria. Other Pillars, like Enmu and Gyuutarou, use them in combat. She’s just making them to pass the time.

Rather than use a blade, she uses special sillks made specially from Crimson Iron Sand and Rui’s spider silk. They’re soft and heat-insulated, and Daki wears them over her Demon Slayer uniform.

However, much like Rui’s spider threads, she can manipulate them with ease, allowing them to become as sharp as a blade.

Honest to God nobody knows how she and Rui do it. Perhaps it’s brute, strength, or their Breathing techniques.

Either way, it’s quite a new experience to be on the receiving end of her silks. Daki is fast, and agile. She can get from one point to another in a matter of seconds. The only person faster from her at all is Douma, and even then it’s by seconds at a time, maybe not even that.

Daki doesn’t care to sympathise with demons. She’s never thought of it. Usually, her missions consist of her yelling insults at her target while she battles them.

Biwa Pillar : Nakime

Pretty girl pretty girl

With two eyes this time

She doesn’t often use a sword at all. She has one, but it’s only used for worst-case scenarios.

And when you are Nakime, you don’t get to the point where you can consider something a ‘worst-case scenario’.

Her Biwa is her main weapon, and she has the special ability to create music that harms demons.

The strings are crafted specially from spider silk (courtesy of Rui) and Scarlet Crimson Ore, but they’re also infused with Wisteria incense (courtesy of Enmu) in order to ward demons off.

She’s a master at her craft, and at her best, she is a force to he reckoned with.

She is often paired up with other Pillars on difficult missions, or if there’s more than one Demon in a certain area. Nakime’s music travels a lot farther than a sword does, after all. But a demon has to be within fifty feet of her to actually die from it.

She doesn’t exactly use a Breathing technique for her Biwa. But her base Breathing technique is Water Breathing, so she practices using her sword often so her skills stay sharp.

Dream Pillar : Enmu

I’ll start this off by saying that no, it’s not quite the same as his original Blood Demon Art. But it does use illusion in order to confuse his target.

Enmu is, to say the least, a sadist.

(Nobody likes him)

He toys with his prey and usually ends up taking a long time in order to complete a single mission because he loses track of time.

The Corps wouldn’t like that if they ever found out, but it’s not like they can just stop him.

However, his technique is extremely effective if they ever have the opportunity to gain information from a demon with a high rank.

Which is probably the only time the Corps would let him do as he pleases.

He doesn’t really have a reason for joining the Demon Slayer Corps. He had no family or loves ones to worry about, and he was good at killing demons. What more could he say?

(That’s probably even more depressing than his family dying or smth)

His Dream Breathing is descended from Flame Breathing, because honestly anything destructive is a plus to Enmu.

He uses a Nichirin blade, but he also uses poison on occasion. Not the type that Shinobu uses to kill them, since that’s not the kind of person he is. He uses hallucinogens to make his Breath style more effective.

Spider Pillar : Rui

A surprising amount of people like him, but I can’t say I don’t know why.

Rui’s one goal when he became a Demon Slayer was simple : protect his family.

None of them are actually blood related, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t fight tooth and nail in order to protect his siblings.

It’s not fake like it would be if he were a demon. Rui deeply cares for those that he sees as his family.

His Spider Breathing is descended from Wind Breathing, and is very unpredictable.

Rather than use a traditional Nichirin blade, Rui opted for a more experimental approach : threads.

To the touch, it’s fine and hard to miss. But when he uses it in battle, alongside his Breath Style, it’s hard as diamonds. And Rui controls is expertly, though there’s not really any way to just cut a demon’s head off.

He usually ends up slicing them into tiny bits and pieces, but that does the job as well.

Listen

CAN and WILL adopt any lone child that he sees

That's all for him lmao

Demon Slayer Corps Leader : Muzan Kibutsuji

He's So Done with everything and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

Bedridden or not, he’ll beat someone’s ass. On more than one occasion, he’s somehow chased after Daki and Gyuutarou for fighting.

But don’t worry, he’s a very good leader. He’s just temperamental at times, is all.

However, he is a strategic genius. He does everything for a reason. Nothing is done without purpose.

He does know how to wield a sword, but he can’t do it often. His body wouldn’t be able to sustain that kind of physical strain.

The Pillars are incredibly protective of him. They respect him deeply, even if he can be quite stingy and a little aggressive at times. It’s just how he is. He’s never angry just to be angry.

Despises demons. They’re the reason that his body is as weak as it is, so he can’t help but hate them for everything they’ve done.

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer oneshots #kny imagines #kny headcanons #kny oneshots #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba oneshots #kny roleswap au #role reverse au #so the demon moons are now the pillars #and muzan is the leader of the demon slayers #how did this get so fucking long #help me god

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tiredcowpoke · 4 years

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TITLE: Of Lines PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Reader REQUEST: @all-good-things-have-a-ending requested for a college/university au with Arthur x Reader. WARNINGS: Not really? Some mention of divorce and cheating (in the past). NOTE: This is long again, sorry. lmao Really, this is such a broad idea that it could be a whole thing, so it was hard to figure out where to end this for a sort of one-off thing. Anyway, just some stuff to note. I did shift around the idea of student x professor because it’s got a power dynamic that I’m not a fan of, despite both Arthur and reader being consenting adults in this. So, instead I went with a professor x professor thing with some compromise on that. However, I hope it’s still good. I rewrote parts of this multiple times so I hope it worked out nice in the end. lol This can also be read as gender neutral, there’s not much focus on the reader’s gender.

With it being a familiar university, you figured it would curb some of the anxieties you had about this.

Yet, you felt like a new student.

However, it had been a good couple years since you were a student of anything. This time it would be a role reversal where you weren’t the one sitting in one of the chairs in the lecture hall, hoping the professor had a good vibe about them and that the course material wouldn’t be too brutal. No, you were the one standing in front of that student and many others just like them. Thankfully, you didn’t have to deal with the eight-in-the-morning stares of a way too early history course but the idea had your stomach twisting something bad at points.

You were in charge. You knew the material and you had your lecture notes, just had to...give a little introduction to yourself and the course layout and worry about the content the next day.

The thought pulled a small sigh from your nose, something grounding as another dull ding of the elevator told you that you were arriving at the floor you needed to be on.

Thankfully, the first thing you had was an office hour that could allow you to collect yourself before you started your day of lecturing. You weren’t expecting any students, not on your first day. The university was still pretty small, newly minted and trying to make a name for itself, and you knew the office building was a bit of a mix and match. You knew you would be sharing the office space with someone, as it had been in your previous institution.

Walking down the hall toward the door you were looking for, having chanted the name a couple times coming in order to find it, you were greeted by a somewhat animated student stepping out of the door, talking quickly with someone sitting just inside. Well, there went your hopes of having the space to yourself for a bit. You tuned out the conversation for a moment, glancing up at the names beside the threshold of the door. Only two, your name, seasonal instructor, and an Arthur Morgan, Phd.

The name gave you pause, your eyes narrowing a moment as a small pang of familiarity hit you. Morgan. Morgan…

“Well I’m gonna go over that project in class, so don’t go worryin’ too much about it right now, alright?”

You glanced up at the voice, now much clearer as a man stepped out from the doorway as the student he was talking to slipped by you with a small nod and wave. His face hit you instantly, though you knew he had aged some over the last couple years. Little less lively, looking somewhat tired, despite the somewhat friendly and inquisitive stare he gave you in return.

“You here for the office hour?” he asked, “I got some time right now for a couple minutes, if that works. What course you in?”

“Oh, I’m not in any course,” you replied quickly with a small chuckle--he didn’t recognize you. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or a little disappointed about that.

“I’m actually just looking to get into my office…” you continued, pointing slightly toward the empty desk space behind him.

“Oh,” he replied, the surprise that touched his expression a little amusing, “Ah, right--course you ain’t. I’m sorry, it’s been...a mornin’.”

“Yeah, I can relate,” you said, stepping in after him once he had turned with a somewhat heavy sigh.

You placed your things down on the desk, letting out a small breath through your nose. This was an interesting turn of events. You knew you might run into the professors you had been taught under, coming to teach at the college, now university, that you had got your degree from before moving on. He had aged a bit in appearance from what you remembered of him, but you recognized his voice. Out of all the people you could have been sharing office with, it was that old professor you had wished you could have strangled when you were a student.

Taking a Fine Arts course for the credit had been required for your degree, and taking a fundamentals to traditional drawing had seemed like easy credit. Maybe it would have been, if it hadn’t been Arthur teaching it. He had seemed nice enough--laid back teaching style, admittedly nice to listen to and you had certainly heard enough comments about how he wasn’t hard to look at either. Yet, when that first project rolled around, things changed. Sandwiched between a couple heavily essay focused courses, trying to work on a drawing seemed easy enough that you hadn’t given it much thought, and he had been quick to kick you in the teeth for it. The grade had been bad and his comments seemed...overly nit-picky at the time. His previously laid back attitude had started to come across as arrogant to you soon after, making him your least liked professor that semester.

You had finished his course decently enough after that, making it a semester goal to make the final project to his liking as a sort of metaphorical flipping off. ‘I am listening and did retain your lessons, you ass.’

You had drank after finals to moving on from his course.

“You teach here before?”

The question pulled you from long dead and buried frustrations, your gaze lifting from one of your lesson plans toward where he was leaning back against the chair. You wanted to laugh--if only he knew.

“No, this is my first year here at least. I did teach at another institution in the city for a couple years, but got a better deal here.”

“That explains it,” he said with a small nod, pausing a moment before he extended a hand out toward you, “Arthur Morgan, Fine Arts professor.”

Yeah, you knew.

“History. Seasonal, for now,” you replied after gripping his hand, followed by your name.

There was a touch of something in his expression, a slight narrowing of his eyes. You thought for a moment that it clicked and he remembered you. However, if he did, it wasn’t commented on as you broke the handshake, turning back to his work after a small grin and nod.

A part of you was feeling somewhat grateful for the conversation being dropped.

***

After the first initial weeks, putting names to faces and breaking into the course material, things started to fall into place for you a bit more.

Really, it started to feel more like how it was at your other institution. Though, with it being a smaller university, that meant smaller classes. Your introductory ones were a little fuller with people taking them for the required credit, your higher level ones thinning out a bit. However, that wasn’t a terrible thing, those courses starting to feel a little more relaxed than your others and it put less on your plate in the long run.

Your continued office hours with Arthur were going alright, too. The two of you managed to work around each other, knowing you tried to tune out the conversations he had with his students and Arthur doing the same with the odd one that would come to you for advice. However, from the office hours you remembered having with him, the ones he had these days seemed a little more...forgiving. Granted, you had avoided going to him for anything while you were a student likely on pride alone, but the odd time you had it was an experience that you had wanted over with quickly.

Perhaps he could tell. Still.

Yet, there was the odd time you would be interrupted by his cellphone and the odd grumble about it, Arthur usually hurrying out of the room to answer it. There was the odd time he would shoot you and/or the student you were advising an apologetic smile before slipping out.

You didn’t want to dip into his personal life. He had his good days and bad days.

Though, you really weren’t expecting to walk in on it. The campus had a small coffee shop that it seemed both professors and students frequented, yourself included during the time you had between classes to eat. However, you were surprised to see a familiar figure waiting in line, talking quietly into his phone. You really didn’t want to surprise him or eavesdrop, but with how the line was currently set up, it was kind of hard not to.

However, much as you had your gripes about him from your time as a student, you wanted to respect his privacy. Still, he seemed to be in some heated argument with someone, his tone quick and stiff. You were somewhat familiar with it, though not in this context. Yet, he fell silent as the other person on the line seemed to talk, Arthur bowing his head as he ran a hand across his face.

Though, you found your gaze dropping as he seemed to look around himself as he listened. His gaze landed on you for a moment before he continued on in a more even tone with his conversation, seeming to wrap it up as he hung up with a sigh. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to look as awkward as you felt.

“The food here any good?” he asked, casting you a glance over his shoulder somewhat. You pulled your gaze away from his own to glance toward the menu, twisting your mouth to the side somewhat.

“I think they’re locally made, so I don’t want to say anything bad. Could be worse, I haven’t gotten sick or anything.”

Arthur hummed lightly, somewhat amused but it wasn’t hard to see the tension lingering.

“Well, it’s either this or nothin’ for me today, so guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“The coffee seems to be the popular choice, anyway,” you continued, shrugging before glancing down at your phone to check your email a moment while you waited. A couple automatic reminders, students telling you of sickness, and a few questions you still had to answer.

“You wanna eat with me?” Arthur asked, causing you to glance up with slightly raised eyebrows.

“Sure, why not?” you replied with a small shrug. You were colleagues, it wasn’t some taboo thing.

Not that you were thinking of him in any other way. That train of thought pulled a small tightness to your brow, a frown tightening somewhat on your face. You really didn’t want to think too deeply on it, but being back on this campus pulled a lot of interesting acknowledgements forward. Perhaps you had to set aside your judgement you had made of him as a teacher, and...well, there had been a part of you, even back then, that had wanted to impress him. You had told yourself it was some wounded pride, yet you had to wonder why it was that class. It had been something taken just for the credit.

Maybe we should stop carrying on like a child.

You placed your order, picking up the coffee and one of the pre-made sandwiches from the stand before following Arthur toward one of the free tables.

“I...I’m sorry ‘bout the phone calls,” Arthur said after a moment once you had sat down across from him, causing you to raise your eyebrows slightly before shrugging.

“They’re not as disruptive as you think,” you replied around your own shrug, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Universe seems to know when you’re around so you can witness ‘em…” he muttered into his own cup, removing the lid as he tested the heat of the beverage.

You watched him for a moment, knowing you should just leave it at that. Enjoy your food, at least as much as you could, and move on. Yet, you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek, the cardboard sleeve of the coffee cup warming the tips of your fingers as you hovered your hand around it.

“...You okay?” you asked, bracing yourself to pull back if you crossed some sort of boundary.

Arthur glanced up at the question, meeting your gaze for a moment before dropping it again and shrugging as he took a sip from his own cup.

“Sure,” he replied, leaning back in the chair somewhat, “Just...some personal issues. It’ll be resolved in a couple weeks, can just...move on from it.”

“It can be hard to leave that stuff at home,” you replied, nodding your head, “Went through the ringer myself in my second year teaching.”

Arthur let out a small sound from the back of his throat, something close to agreement. You started to eat a little in the silence that followed, though the admission that followed had it hard to keep the touch of surprise out of your expression.

“I’m gettin’ a divorce,” he stated, not looking up from where he was studying the surface of the table.

“...I’m sorry to hear that,” you replied after a moment, watching his expression as he shook his head.

“Picked the worst month for it, feels like I’m goin’ through the motions here with all that in the back of my mind. Ain’t so bad when I know I’m not gettin’ a call in a bit, but feels like she’s expectin’ me to drop everythin’ because she’s still tryin’ to move out. I know my schedule isn't makin’ that easy.”

“That’s...messy business,” you replied with a small nod, glancing down. “I, uh...I got cheated on a couple years back in the middle of a semester. Had to try to run a lecture during the same week, fielding the...stupidest questions while holding that in my chest and had to look the bastard in the face at the end of my days trying to split up our stuff. It really feels like you’re going through the motions, but...it’ll feel more natural again after a while. Though, I imagine I went a little hard on undeserving students during that point.”

“Hell I’m probably doin’ it, too,” Arthur returned, causing you to chuckle lightly.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Why’s that?”

You glanced back up at him, a small grin pulling at your expression as you raised your eyebrow. “You really don’t recognize me, huh?”

The completely confused expression that tightened his expression almost had you laughing again, Arthur taking a moment to really look at you. Being under his gaze had you almost wanting to squirm and glance away, but you had started this whole thing. Eventually, there was a shift in his expression, his head lifting somewhat before he was leaning back.

“You were in one of my classes,” he stated around a small huff, causing you a nod with a grin bit back.

“A good couple years back, yeah,” you said, “You made it hard to forget, considering I was pretty convinced you made it your mission to rake me over the coals for a fundamentals to drawing course.”

You were expecting some defensive remark, for him to lean into that small voice in the back of your head that told you that you hadn’t really applied yourself in that class until he forced you to. Yet, he just ducked his head slightly, letting out a small huff of a chuckle.

“...I was a bit of a cocky bastard when I was younger,” he replied, “Might’ve been feelin’ a little showed up by some of my students. Y’know, ‘those who can’t do, teach’.”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s not true,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck somewhat, “Though, I’m happy to see you stepped off that a bit over the years.”

“Sure,” he said, meeting your gaze with a small grin pulling at his lips, “Though, I grade fair. Always have.”

“Yeah, well...I might not have been giving much of an effort until you showed me that wasn’t going to work. I thought it would be easy credit.”

“Well, guess we both had somethin’ goin’ on with that.”

“...It was still an introductory course.”

“Alright, alright.”

You both shared a bit of a chuckle after that, the tension somewhat stepping off. You weren’t so foolish to think it wouldn’t exist after, but it felt nice to sidestep some awkwardness about you having to share space with him multiple times a week. You shared some small talk about your classes for a while before separating to finish off your days.

Though, when you returned to your office to collect some things, you found a note sticking to one of your folders that you hadn’t put there. Pulling it off, you were met with unfamiliar handwriting.

I feel like I crossed a line today by telling you all of that. If I did, I’m sorry. Still, I didn’t get the chance or really thought to say so, but thank you for listening. - A. M.

***

This really wasn’t turning out to be your day.

A hell of a day, too. The last day before a reading week and you could tell most of your students had checked out, something you were close to doing so yourself. Teaching a class at seven at night was always a bit brutal, but after knowing your car had sputtered out a final goodbye as you were pulling up to campus that afternoon and that you would have to take the bus home? Well, it sucked.

You let out a tired sigh as the elevator came to a stop on the floor you needed, planning on just picking up a couple things from your office for the break before taking this adventure home. The evening was darker than you had been expecting with the rain that had come over the afternoon, falling steadily now as you noticed through one of the windows in the open doors you passed. Great.

Though, you were surprised to see a light on in your office. You had been under the impression that Arthur’s classes had wrapped up well over a couple hours ago, catching him moving between reading something and checking his computer in the light of the desk lamp. Pausing at the door, you couldn’t help but curse your luck somewhat.

You could admit that things had been pretty well between the two of you after that one lunch, even having a couple more over the months that followed. Perhaps things even started to lean a bit into a solid friendship, though it was hard to deny that small part of you that spoke to some type of attraction toward him. It really was something you kept shoving down as the days went along--he just got divorced, you should just keep things somewhat distant from that. Yet, it was hard not to notice the growing closeness, the shared jokes, the knowing looks and smiles when getting done with dealing with particularly difficult students.

At the moment, however, you really just wanted to pick up your things and wallow in a bad day on a bus ride home.

Yet, it was hard to do so in a particularly silent building, walking over to your desk and rummaging through your folders had him jumping slightly, glancing in your direction before letting out a breath.

“Christ, could’ve knocked or somethin’,” he remarked, causing you to glance his way somewhat sheepishly.

“Sorry, just needed to grab this.”

“You usually workin’ this late?” he asked as you turned around, placing your things down on the desk beside you.

“This semester, yeah. I just got done with my last class,” you replied, shaking your head, “Now it’s just a long bus ride home. Hell of a way to start my break.”

“You takin’ the bus? In this?” he asked, glancing toward the window with the heavy droplets of rain still hitting the pane.

“I don’t have a choice,” you said with a shrug, “My car gave up after driving here, I had to get it towed.”

“Well…” he started around a sigh, glancing back toward his things before checking the time on his laptop. You caught onto the next part of his statement, your hands raising somewhat at your sides.

“It’s not really a big deal, you don’t need to offer…”

“You guessin’ my words before they leave my mouth?” he returned around a small huff, glancing back toward you, “Where in the city do you live?”

“Just a little outside it, about fifteen minutes from here,” you replied, “By car, at least.”

“That ain’t too bad,” he replied, “I can drive you--if you’ll let me.”

“...Well, I’m not exactly excited to be taking the bus at night and standing in the rain,” you remarked around a soft chuckle, “I...wouldn’t mind that, I guess. I’ll have to return the favor someday, if I can.”

“Eh, sure. It’s fine. Just give me a couple minutes here.”

You nodded, feeling a touch of relief at not having to take the long way home, yet there was now a twist of anxiety about taking this car ride with him. Things had been pretty friendly and professionally distant for some time, the odd line stepped over every now and again but nothing extreme. Now this?

It’s a sweet gesture, you thought as you flipped open one of the essays you had to grade over the week break, there’s probably nothing more to it.

Still, you found yourself accepting it in the long run anyway, following him down toward the car park a couple minutes later. A bit of a beat up old truck, actually, though it still looked modern enough--which you should have expected from him. Much as he was spending his day teaching artistic young adults, he still had a way about him that made him stick out a bit. You knew you hadn’t been expecting the southern drawl when you had him as a professor those years ago.

“Air conditionin’ sucks, but the heater’s good at least,” he remarked as you climbed into the passenger seat once he had unlocked the door for you, “Though, considerin’ the night, that’s probably for the best.”

“Good winter car, at least,” you remarked, doing up your seat belt as he fiddled with the air and radio a moment. You could pick up on the familiar voice of the local talk radio host, something your own father listened to quite a bit.

Interesting choice, you thought while trying to hold back a chuckle.

Arthur started up the truck, finally pulling out from campus as you gave him your address. Really, it was hard not to feel a little awkward to be sitting in his car like this, much as you were grateful for the offer. You tried not to give into the urge to dig around, a nervous habit--always had to do something with your hands. Instead, you let the lull in conversation fall off somewhat as you listened to the rumble of the engine, the faint voice of the radio host, and the rain against the roof and windows. Still, you couldn’t really help yourself--

“You really are a lot more modern cowboy than I had been expecting,” you commented, earning a quick laugh, something genuine.

“Yeah, goes a little deeper than the accent. Just the way I grew up.”

“So how’d you end up here?” you asked, glancing toward him. You were aware it was a bit of a bold question, but you had been feeling a little more comfortable about that lately. With him, at least. It was something you could overthink later (or kick yourself over later if he brushed it off.)

“What, the city?”

“Sure, teaching.”

“I can draw,” he said around a small chuckle, “Had a friend get my foot in somewhere, allowed me to get into college and it took off from there.”

You nodded, taking that in. You knew he really wasn’t all that older than yourself. You had started college as a mature student after giving up on the idea for a while, going back after you found yourself considering it again.

“I wish I had a more interesting story, but mine lines up pretty well with that,” you replied around a soft chuckle, “Minus the foot in the door, but I had a couple people push the idea after drifting around a bit after high school.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty common,” he remarked.

“Thanks for doing this, by the way,” you said after a beat, “You could have left it at a ‘that’s too bad’ and let me sort it out, and I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“Eh, it’s nothin’,” he said, glancing toward you for a moment, letting out a small sigh through his nose as he looked back out at the road. “Don’t have anythin’ waitin’ on me back home, anyway.”

You hummed, nodding your head lightly as he seemed to let the conversation fall again at that. You noticed the tightening of his hands on the wheel for a moment after. The written words of that little note sat in your mind a moment--more about crossing lines. Really, you found yourself wanting to ask how he was doing with all of that. You had noticed the phone calls had become less, Arthur’s energy picking up a little but it was hard to tell sometimes if he really was doing alright. Still, if he wasn’t going to expand on that, you weren’t going to push it.

Really, the weight of the day seemed to press down on you a bit, making it hard to keep up with heavy conversation anyway. You watched the scenery roll by, familiar at this point. Eventually, you could pick up on the landmarks that suggested that your neighborhood was coming up. You directed him around the turns until the familiar building came into view, Arthur pulling up into the driveway.

“Well, this is it,” you said around a somewhat tired sigh, “Thank you, again.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he returned.

You paused a moment, knowing you should just open the door and get out. However, his little offhand comment seemed to sit in your mind for a moment, making you bite the inside of your cheek. You knew you were going to leave it be, yet--

“You, um...are you going to be okay?” you asked, meeting the somewhat confused look he had been settling you.

“Oh--yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he returned quickly, waving a hand. “Not even sure why I said that, just slipped out. I’ve been...gettin’ used to it again, you don’t need to worry.”

“Well...in the vein of saying things we maybe shouldn’t say, I do find myself wondering about how you’re doing anyway,” you replied, “But alright. I’ll see you after the break.”

You opened the door at that, stepping out into the cold spray of water before shutting the door. You knew your last words were bold, but you had found yourself saying them anyway. Perhaps a part of you wanted him to know that someone did care. However, you didn’t get to linger too much on that thought as Arthur’s voice cut across from the driver’s side of his truck.

You paused as he lowered his window, stepping back toward him as he leaned against it somewhat.

“I...you’re free to forget I even asked, but you doin’ anythin’ for the break?”

You blinked against the slight sting of rain in your eyes for a moment before shaking your head with a shrug, feeling the wetness starting to soak into the neck of your shirt and jacket.

“You want to...I don’t know, get coffee? Have a meal?”

“...Is this as friends? Colleagues?”

“Well...I wasn't quite thinkin’ of it that way,” he remarked, almost lost to the sound of the rain around you. You could feel your heart thud, a shiver ripping through you from the cold as you felt the rain soaking the top of your head but you could feel some heat touch your face.

“Alright, sure. Why not?”

The relieved grin that touched his face was almost enough to make your night. You knew there was a part of you that would question this, already feeling that pulling at the back of your mind as you put your cellphone number into his phone. He just went through a divorce, you didn’t want to deal with this if he was just looking to use you to sort through all of that.

However--well, it was just a meal. You could figure that out from how that goes. It wasn’t enough to quell your excitement, at least.

You would have laughed at the idea all those years ago that you would be willingly going on a date with professor Morgan, bane of your existence, but the thought left a smile on your face for the night anyway.

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader

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peachywander · 3 years

Note

All asks

Holy shit, this will be so much fun B-) *cracks knuckles*

Ask me: FANDOM EDITION

A - Your current OTP

Uhhh pff,,, skeleton dance I think?? I mean sure, skelley dance is always my current OTP, ngl. They're basically made for eachother, hell, even craig himself wore tshirts and stuff with wander hugging hater ifthisisn'tcannonthenidkwhatitis

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind

To be honest,, wander x beza. I used to dislike every wander x girl ship bcs I see him as gae and nothing else. But I have a friend who does lots of art with them so I think it grew on me more and more with time?? Now I think they would look cute together, even if i'm still not super big on it.

C - A pairing you have never liked and probably never will

Wnder x domi. No comment, I despise it with all my heart 😂😂 Like I said earlier, I don't like most of wander x girl ships, and domi really hates wander. Sooo this ship simply doesn't make sense to me,, lmfao.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t

I think Twi x Flash from mlp. Yeah, I thought twi was cute when crushing on him in the 1st EG movie but they don't seem to have that chemistry I was hoping for. Plus I haven't seen any recent episodes of mlp in a long time, though I heard ppl say that he was mean to her once, if I remember well? Anyways, doesn't work so much for me.

E - Have you added anything stupid/cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what

Besides memes/ shitposts, not really. Check @gunxball if you want to see posts of mine back when I was into gumball 2 yrs ago (golly i miss those times)

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom

Probably su (2016-2019) or kid vs kat (2011-2014)

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it

Why yes, of course I do. cosmo x wanda from fop. They were so adorbs together esp in the first 2 seasons. Don't like how they got so flanderized with time, their dynamic was absolutely destroyed, and my day was ruined when I found out.

H - Do you prefer characters from real action series or anime series

I don't watch either lolol

But I think anime.

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why

Dislike the fandom, not the show itself? Probably hzbin hotel. The show has a pretty neat concept and animation and it had such a big impact on my artstyle when I first watched it. But the fandom? Absolute hell. (pun intended)

From shipping wars, to pestering vivz, anything is possible. Glad I haven't actually interacted with that part of the fandom.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

Not a show but among us. Back in september/october last year, my tl was FILLED with among us, up and down. Made me a lil tired of it but once I tried playing that game, I couldn't stop. Also the owlhouse, fell in love with the artstyle and story.

K - How do you feel about the other people in your current fandom

I don't have a current fandom. Not feeling in the mood + school + inactivity bcs of school. So I'll say abt my latest fandom, which was animaney. Well, people were really nice, and they seemed to enjoy the reboot. Nothing more to say tbh,,

L - Your favorite fanartist/author gives you one request, what do you ask for

Ummm I don't really like giving rqs to my fave artists, i don't wanna bother them haha

M - Your favorite fanart or fanartist

I don't know aaaa, prolly toonipi but she also draws ocs, not just fanart.

N - Your favorite fanfiction or fanauthor

Anything cute or sappy with skelleydance (NO nsfw)

O - Choose a song at random, which OTP does it remind you of

Lasers and feelings. Skellydance again. It matches sO well-

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

I used to have a skatepark AU ft. su chars but never put anything over here. I still have the sketches from 9th grade lmao.

Q - A ship you’ve abandoned and why

To be completely honest, Amydot. Up until s3 they really gave me possible ship vibes. They interacted a lot, and peri discovered her metal powers thanks to amy. But after s3 they hardly ever interacted anymore (besides that one ep from s5 with the kindergarden). I was so dissapointed, but hey lapdot isn't so bad anyway, right?

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

Back in 2014 I would have said chred from angry birds, definitely. Not many really shipped them, and when I saw some fanart of them on dA everyone would say "ew, gae". Well, 2014 everyone. I was always like "so?? i like that ship, what's the problem??"

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon

Uhmm, i headcanon darwin from tawog that he likes to yodel lol

T - If you mostly have homoships, do you have any heteroships

I think my ships are 50-50, but here are some examples:

Larsdie

Stevnnie

Blckeye

Fluttrcord

Beeckard

Starc0

Tanyamao

Foxodile

Pennball

Carwin

U - If you mostly have heteroships, do you have any homoships

Same as T. Another examples:

Skelleydance

Wnderingeye

Sylava

Lumty

Rupphre

Pearlmthyst

Badgrmao

Bubbline

Flutterdsh

Patbob

V - Are you one of those fans who can’t watch anything without shipping

Lol no. Tbh, i'm not super big on shipping either. I only slighty like/dislike any ship i listed earlier (with the exception of skelleydance, i'm too in love with that ship)

W - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

wakko warner (animaney)

wander (woy)

fluttershy (mlp)

amethyst (su)

bubbles (ppg)

X - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

skelleydance (woy)

lumty (toh)

stevnnie (su)

Y - A fandom you’re in but have no ships from

kid cosmic (or maybe I do ship papa g w/ chuck), animaney, okko, gravity flls

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go

That one fan made episode from su called the smothering, it was so freaking amazing. It helped a lot in relieveing the pain of that big hiatus from 2017 (which was the biggest one, i literally turned into a skeleton waiting for new eps). Loved peri's needy personality, as well as lappy's playful one. It was so well written, like it could be perfectly fit as a role reversal episode in the main show.

#the reason i typed the ships like that is to not appear in the tags #ask

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miraculouscontent · 5 years

Note

Hi there! You're one of my go to sources for information on Miraculous, so I figured I should ask you. I'm attempting to write a Miraculous Ladybug AU centered around Rose and Juleka, and later Kitty Section maybe. Definitely Lukanette haha. I'm not very much caught up with the show tho, are there any episodes that center around them aside from Reflekta and Princess Fragnance? Or any that develop their characters? I'm guessing not but thank you anyways

Aw, I’m glad to be one of your go-to sources! And Lukanette, yes, good choice.

Anyway, for Rose and Juleka specifically and not the rest of Kitty Section? Haha, I’ll save you some trouble and just give you the notable character moments (that aren’t background details because I don’t think those count):

“Origins” - Juleka totally dug Ivan going lose as Stoneheart and thought it was cool, either implying that she wished she could be more of a loose cannon or... well, she just liked the destruction.

“Mr. Pigeon” - Pretty light and I know I just said I wouldn’t mention background details, but Juleka and Rose made a gear derby hat together for the hat contest. They’re later revealed to be in the art club (see “Reverser”), so this might have something to do with that.

“Horrificator” - Juleka thinks monsters are rad and isn’t at all afraid of them. Rose also readily offers snacks and drinks to everyone, even when the situation doesn’t call for it.

“Darkblade”/”Zombizou”/”Timebreaker” - Rose goes to Chloe for advice on the akuma attacking in “Darkblade” (despite Chloe having threatened her into not running for class representative in the same episode) and is ecstatic by Chloe’s backhanded compliment in “Zombizou” (she also tries to save Chloe in “Zombizou” - whether she’s physically strong to lift Chloe or it’s just a joke is up for debate - and Timebreaker in “Timebreaker” despite the obvious danger), indicating that she’s a bit of an airhead and a lot of a pushover. Ultimately tries to be nice and do good; can be brave when needed. “Darkblade” also confirmed that Rose enjoys scrapbooking (this comes back in “Zombizou”), comfy things, and the color pink, and that she was confident that Marinette would win class representative (”When you win, can we get more comfortable chairs?”), showing how blindly supportive she is.Juleka also mumbles a lot in “Darkblade,” unable to get her full thoughts out, but lets out a “you know” as if expecting her mind to be read. Juleka doesn’t do much in “Timebreaker,” but she’s vocal for once when she talks about being through with Kim’s dares.Juleka and Rose are extremely touchy-feely in “Zombizou” in particular, but have close contact throughout the show that implies something beyond friendship.

“Reflekta” - Juleka has insecurities about her “photo curse” (that gets fixed by the end) and it’s implied that she’s often felt left out/ignored (further proven by the principal forgetting her completely even though he’d commented on her leaving earlier). She’s even quick to tell Rose to “forget about her” which may imply that she feels unworthy/like a bother. Rose, meanwhile, shows another case of airheadedness when Marinette talks about the picture “disappearing”, but also has a moment of pointing out Chloe’s “mean tricks” when she sees Juleka in distress (showing that she may have a limit).

“Princess Fragrance” - Rose very much views people by what she’s seen and heard about them, even if she’s never met them, as shown by her reaction to Prince Ali. She’s also open and unafraid of expressing her feelings, willing to ask Chloe for a favor just so she can let Prince Ali know how she feels.

“Despair Bear” - Rose is excited by Chloe’s invitation despite Chloe making her cry earlier (Chloe also insults her macarons later). This indicates that Rose is the forgive-and-forget type, or at least that she flip-flops easily.

“Befana” - Rose considers Marinette “the nicest person in the world.” Juleka thinks that Marinette is “cool.” They both bravely defended her.

“Gigantitan” - Rose is a romantic, but believes that boys would never pick up on a girl crushing on them. Rose also praises effort even if it’s not that successful. Juleka manages to get over her mumbling briefly when helping out with the “Adrienette scheme,” to the point of shouting.

“Reverser” - Juleka and Rose are part of the art club. Rose listens to music while writing lyrics.

“Frightningale” - Rose comments on the music video being better with everyone dancing equal parts of it, implying that she’s a “share the glory” type and likes all roles to be spread equally whenever possible.

“Frozer” - Rose can’t take a hint.

“Catalyst” - Juleka is horrified when Rose gets akumatized, but with a little encouragement, still manages to impressively hold her fear in to keep akuma away from her.

“Reflekdoll” - Juleka is revealed to be interested in modeling (and is supported in this wholeheartedly by Luka), but even though she’s able to ask Marinette (shyly), she hyperventilates once she’s actually given the opportunity (viewing this next to “Gigantitan”, Juleka might do better under pressure when it comes to friends than with herself). She blames herself at first and tells no one what her problem was, insisting that she’s fine, but later shifts the blame onto Marinette (likely being quick to deflect to the first person she deems “offended” her, even if they don’t deserve it, just so Juleka herself doesn’t have to endure sulking). Rose, meanwhile, is supremely supportive and concerned over Juleka, checking on her multiple times before being convinced to leave.

So yeah, beyond “Reflekta” and “Princess Fragrance,” “Reflekdoll” is the only big one I can think of that centers around Juleka and/or Rose. “Captain Hardrock” and “Silencer” feature Kitty Section at least, with a lighter nod to them in “Desperada”, though Juleka and Rose don’t get many good lines in these episodes due to the heavier Lukanette content.

#character: Rose Lavillant #character: Juleka Couffaine #other: ask and answer

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browniefox · 5 years

Note

on your AO3 account you have around 25 fics which are currently unfinished. I was just wondering how many of these were discontinued? You don’t have to give an in depth answer if you don’t want to, I was just curious. Also all of your works are really good and I can’t wait to read more!

You pose a good question. And I kinda want to do an indepth answer? If for no other reason, than to kind of go over them myself? And I’m glad you like my writing :)

Role Reversal - Supernatural - Discontinued

This one (and probably most of these ones I’m going to start with) are pretty much discontinued. I have just no drive or interest in continuing it. If I ever did, I’d want to start it completely over, since the writing is just so old. Like, wow, five years old at this point. This fic inparticular, I had better ideas for it after I had published it. At this point I’m keeping it around for like posterity’s sake.

From Heaven to Earth - Supernatural - Discontinued

This one is discontinued as well. It was an interesting fic, but I had no idea where I was really going with it.

Wiccans Don’t Use Rifles - Supernatural - Discontinued

I kinda like this title, but this fic is definitely discontinued. I had no idea what had caused this weird thing to happen in the timeline. It’s like a fic I would’ve liked to read, but didn’t know how to write.

More Than One - Sonic the Hedgehog - Discontinued

I actually had way more of an idea of the plot for this one than I did the previous four, but I just lost steam on it and grew dissatisfied with my own portrayls of the characters. Also I think there was maybe another chapter that I head meant to post but never did? And that’s always annoying :P Also I hate the name and summary.

Strangers of the Woods - Homestuck - Discontinued

Uhuh, no no, not a huge fan of this one. I don’t really like the plot anymore, or how I was executing it, and I definitely think I could’ve done much better work. I used to really like the plot, but now I’m just kind of embarressed about it.

The Monsters Came - Undertale - Discontinued... probably

This is one of those fics that I could see myself writing another chapter to years later, if I’m ever really bored or have a really good idea how to portray the inegration of monster and human culture and stuff, but honestly it’s probably not going to update again knowing me

Galaxy’s Mightiest Guardians - Avengers/Guardians of the Galaxy - Eternal Hiatus

By ‘Eternal Hiatus’, I mean that maybe maybe maybe in a distant future, I’ll update it, or if I like watch Gotg 3 and get excited I might write another chapter. I really liked the whole language barrier going on, but I just have too many things to work on to try and figure out what to do with the plot

Gemstone Tutor Reborn - Katekyo Hitman Reborn - Discontinued, sadly

I love love love gem aus, especially art and stuff for them. And I guess that my ideas for this just didn’t go far enough away from canon to make me happy with it. But I still love it, even though I know I’m probably never going to update it.

Flower For Your Thoughts - Katekyo Hitman Reborn - Kinda Finished Actually?

I should really change this one form 3/? to just 3/3. If I ever want to update it, I can and will, but i’m pretty satisfied with the three chapters i’ve written for it. Thsi is one of the fics I’m really proud of, and I love this way lesser used soulmate au

Virtuous - Fullmetal Alchemist - Eternal Hiatus

Another fic that met it’s death due to the fact that I didn’t plan the plot enough. I did know that I wanted there to be seven ‘virtues’ but choosing the characters and figuring out, like, the rest of the fic just never happened. I still love the concept of it though

A Doggone Mess - Youtubers - Complete

Another one I should change to complete, seeing as it was a series of one-shots anyway. It was left incomplete because at the time I kept writing more, but now that I’ve more or less finished, I should really let that reflect on the fic itself.

Soulless Machines - Detroit: Become Human - Complete

The exact same situation of ‘Doggone Mess’ where I was writing a bunch for it, but now I’m happy with where it is and what I’ve written for it. In fact, I’m just in general happy with this fic and reread it often enough.

The Dragon Watching Over My Shoulder - The Dragon Prince - Hiatus...?

I always meant to update it when the second season came out, and then I never watched it... UNTIL RECENTLY! So it’s possible that someday, maybe even soon, I’ll update it. But I’ve had a lot of different projects I’m working on right now, so don’t expect anything like immediately

Thanks for the Memories - Paranatural - Hiatus

One day, I hope to update this. I don’t have it thoroughly planned, but I do have it enough - and it should be short enough - that I think it’d be doable.

Tradition - Legend of Zelda - Hiatus

I do plan to update this one! I really like this au, and while I’m not entirely sure where it’s going or where it’ll end, I enjoy writing about this Ganondorf, and though I may not complete, I definitely want to continue it

The Legend of Zelda: Folds of Darkness - take a wild guess - Discontinued probs

I never really planned to continue this one. I may, however, one day write a prequel to it? Or maybe rewrite this one (with a better title). I’ve played around with this au and the characters and the backstories and kinda have grown attached to em

Dream Team vs The Ink Machine - BaTIM - Hiatus

I do want to finished this one, especially because it’s so long at this point. I have a vague idea of where I want it to go, it’s just a matter of finding the time to write it when I’m not doing other things or working on other fics

Fires and Espers - KHR/MP100 - Hiatus

I don’t think I’ll finish this fic, but I do want to update. I like this little au, and I want to go more into Reigen’s ‘past’ and stuff. It’s just kinda fun to write in :D

The Future Waits For No One - How to Train Your Dragon - Hiatus

I actually do know where the plot is going! Again, I just need to actually get to writing it. I’ve enjoyed writing it, and it’s seemed to get pretty good reception too :)

The Path Less Traveled By - Digimon - Hiatus

The biggest thing stopping me from writing this fic is that it required me rewatching the anime and sometimes it just takes the slightest thing to make me too lazy to do something. But I love Joe, and hope to start diverging from canon at some point, but it probably won’t be updating soon

Wrong Place, Wrong Time - Detroit: Become Human - Discontinued probably

If I update, it’ll be a miracle. I always seem to start these Avergers crossovers and never finish them. I’m not really intersted in it anymore :(

Tipping the Scales - Daredevil/Avengers - Hiatus

I want to finish this one! I really like it, and it’ll just be another four or so chapters until it’s finished, and it’s really cute :) but I’m been really into drawing lately - and Hollow Knight - and they’ve distracted me from writing :P

#browniefox speaks #browniefox writes #my fics #ask #answer #sorry for the late response :P

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klaineitupanotch · 6 years

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Elfinder Fic Masterlist.

It’s late, but here’s my list of Glee fanfiction! Hopefully I’m posting this right lol. I’ll go oldest to newest (roughly anyway). Another Time, Another Place What if Kurt had met Blaine a year earlier? How would his life have changed? In his sophomore year, during the spring, Kurt Hummel ends up by chance meeting a charming young man named Blaine Anderson, who turns out to be in his own Glee club. The two begin down the road of becoming friends and then the journey that their relationship takes them. Will they be able to face any problems ahead? No matter what they may be? https://archiveofourown.org/works/709573/chapters/1311324 Notes: My very first fic written in 2013 (I believe lol, or maybe 2012) so it’s far from perfect, but it’s where it all began for me. A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Vows In the competitive city of LA, Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are trying their best to break into showbiz. Neither one figured their chance would come in the form of a modelling gig that would not only pay the bills but help the cause for marriage equality. Where this golden opportunity could lead to more than exposure in the media. https://archiveofourown.org/works/866205/chapters/1662102 Notes: Cute lil fic I did for the Klaine Reverse bang. Knocked Him For A Time Loop In the year 1903, young magician Blaine Anderson longs for an escape from his impending arranged marriage. A spell gone wrong thrusts him into the year 2013, where he meets Kurt Hummel. Someone equally surprised to find the boy he’d chosen as an essay subject suddenly appear in his bedroom. As if trying to figure out how to get Blaine back to his own time wasn’t hard enough, both started to ponder the same question: Were they star-crossed lovers or merely kindred spirits thrown for a time loop? https://archiveofourown.org/works/962502/chapters/1886645 Notes: Second fic I did for the reverse bang. What a Feeling Through the hell he faced while living in Lima Ohio, Kurt Hummel finally made it out of the backwards cow town to the city of San Francisco. However, to survive meant dreams had been crushed, hopes forgotten, and impenetrable walls built around him. Long gone is the naive youth who dreamed of Broadway and romance. To the new Kurt Hummel, romance is dead. After finally turning 21, Kurt decides to let loose and finally get laid. He didn't count on the two young men that would come into his life because of this choice. Enter Sebastian Smythe and Blaine Anderson, both offering different things within Kurt's life, and causing varied reactions within him. Will he be able to keep the life style he fought so hard to gain without the risk of emotions ruining it? https://archiveofourown.org/works/704320/chapters/1299141 Notes: This one is technically Sebklaine/Kurtbastian/Klaine/Seblaine, so be prepared of that going in. My first forray into writing Sebastian into the fray and I loved it, lol. Hummel and Oates Klaine ‘80s AU. Sometimes even potential soulmates can get off on the wrong foot. Enter Kurt, the ballsy co-manager of Dare to Flare, the hottest gay club in the East Village, and Blaine, a newly hired cover band artist at the same club. Right from the start, the boys’ first impressions of one another go astray thanks to some incorrect gossip and an accidentally spilt drink. Can two men who aren't even on a first name basis ever put their differences aside? https://archiveofourown.org/works/1272997/chapters/2631142 Notes: This prob the fic I’m most proud of, even if it’s far from perfect. It was super fun to write. Who doesn’t like the 80s!

Viloncello Blaine Anderson finds himself being given the opportunity of a lifetime, when he is approached by Hunter Clarington the Third, a rich lord who’s singular goal is to become the best luthier of his age. Soon, Blaine gets the chance to play his finest creation, a cello that’s perfect pitch is spell-bounding, to compete at a world wide competition. Little does he know that accepting the job will also lead him to meet a mysterious young man with the voice of an angel. https://archiveofourown.org/works/2152764/chapters/4704513 Notes: Another Reverse Bang fic for 2014. Sinner or Saviour After years of feeling lost, Blaine Anderson thought he’d finally found his path in life: one that would make his family proud while keeping him far away from a life of sin. But despite his best efforts to start anew, Blaine finds himself falling into the same morally reprehensible patterns as before. Seeking guidance, Blaine looks to God for help but never in a million years did he expect his prayers to be answered — especially when his potential angel-demon hybrid saviour stirs in him the very thing he had been trying so hard to escape. Notes: 2nd fic for Reverse Bang, I went out of my comfort zone for this one lol (religion, angels and demons). https://archiveofourown.org/works/2249658/chapters/4936905 Threw A Wish in a Well Kurt Hummel is a winner, in his senior year of high school he got everything he wanted. He landed the lead role in the school musical, won the election for student body president and most of all got accepted in NYADA, the school of his dreams. The only thing missing from Kurt's fast paced life in New York was one thing: love. After coming back to Ohio during Thanksgiving to keep a secret going, Kurt makes a wish. To find the love of his life but Kurt never expected to end up falling on a cute guy in ripped jeans as the coin fell. Leaving Kurt and one Blaine Anderson to deal with discovering such a strong connection only to be kept apart soon after. https://archiveofourown.org/works/769966/chapters/1444797 Notes: I was tempted to not include this one since it is abandoned. BUT I do want to eventually go back to it and end it. Maybe it people read it that will help motivate me too. ;) A Wedding Fit for People Magazine Off in Estérel, France and tucked away from public eye, Broadway star Kurt Hummel and rock musician Blaine Anderson are about to marry. As the couple look ahead to their happy moment, they both think back to some of the key moments in the course of their relationship, and how they’ve come so far in spite of their fast-paced lives. https://archiveofourown.org/works/4520904/chapters/10284594 Notes: Reverse Bang Fic again. I think this story is one of my best (if not the best) I’ve written so far. https://archiveofourown.org/works/4520904/chapters/10284594 Welcome to Paradise Kurt Hummel's life has been full of nothing but school work. Unhappy and alone, he grows bitter from the stress of it all and keeps himself closed off from the world. But when Kurt encounters a group of students who ask him to be their model for a fashion show, he suddenly begins to question everything about himself and his life. In spite of knowing nothing about fashion, Kurt finds himself drawn towards the project, the group, and most of all the group's leader Sebastian Smythe. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3752428/chapters/8328058 Notes: This is Kurtbastian, but without any Blaine hate in it. It’s a story very close to my heart. I’m really proud of it, and loved writing it (though Klaine is still my otp I swear lol). Who Do You Think You Are Blaine Anderson is preparing to embark on a new solo chapter of his life: entering college. To those around him, he might appear to be just another ordinary eighteen-year-old, but when his loving parents are none other than the Doctor--Earth's constant saviour and last of the Time Lords--and River Song--a human weapon who defied destiny and fell in love with her target--nothing could be further from the truth. Between the pressure that comes with having such a family legacy to live up to, and the stress of keeping so many secrets from everyone he knows, it's no wonder that Blaine has sworn off relationships. Yet on his first day at the Cambridge School of Visual & Performing Arts, Blaine meets Kurt Hummel and immediately feels drawn to him, challenging his convictions. Suddenly, surviving the wait until Blaine can join his parents in the TARDIS after graduation is the least of his worries. https://archiveofourown.org/works/13759926/chapters/31622952 Notes: My most current story, though I started it years ago. I’m super happy with this one. For an added bonus, my current fic plans, though it’s slow goings at the moment. In Progress Rediscovering Paradise The sequel to Welcome to Paradise, it pics up where the epilogue leaves you off. I am currently writing this story, I’m at chapter 4. The plan is to wait till it’s fully written and edited and I’ll post the whole thing in one. I’m also aiming for 8 chapters. The continuation of Threw a Wish in a Well It’s on my to do list. I have a number of chapters I wrote years ago. They’d just need to be tweaked and revised heavily. I want to give this story a proper ending. So I’ll prob spend some time on it once the Paradise sequel is finished. Not What I Imagined Another Kurtbastian fic! It will be my take on ‘what if Kurt had met Sebastian instead of Blaine?’ How canon would differ etc. No Blaine hate, no Blaine at all actually. Super excited to write this one. My headcanons are running wild. I’ll be writing this for me really lol. I have various other ideas... no idea if and when I’ll get to them. The above three projects will keep me busy enough with the rate I’m going writing these days.

#fic writing adventure #elfinder #klaine fanfiction #fanfic masterlist

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adorkablephil · 6 years

Text

Fic: The Body Electric (Epilogue)

Title: The Body Electric Summary: Filmmaker Phil Lester finds his computer infected by a surprisingly endearing artificial intelligence virus that calls itself D.A.N. Phil just calls him Dan. Rating: Mature (But there’s no sex here.) Word Count: 1.8k Tags: Phandom Reverse Bang, Science Fiction AU, Computers, Virus!Dan, Rather Unconventional Romance Thanks: This story was inspired by a prompt from the artist @lilacskylester in the @phandomreversebang. Their art for the fic is here! The story is straying from the original prompt, but that’s still where the inspiration came from. You can also read the whole fic on AO3

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[ The Body Electric Chapter Masterlist ]

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Epilogue: Hacker

Sitting at one of the window seats at my favorite Starbucks, dipping an almond biscotti into my pumpkin spice latte, I notice a tall guy with a dark quiff staring at me oddly from the queue at the counter. He’s cute, in a dorky kind of way—kind of gangly and awkward, as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with the length of his limbs.

In my experience, that doesn’t necessarily translate into a lack of coordination in the bedroom. I’m just saying.

Also, even from this distance, I can see that his socks are two different colors. I have a weird thing for guys who wear mismatched socks. I like the way it implies a relaxed refusal to comply with societal expectations. I’m not a big fan of societal expectations in general, whether it comes to gender roles, sexual identity, physical appearance, sock choice, or pretty much anything else.

I’m just not a big fan of people telling me what to do or who to be.

I dip my biscotti back into my drink and take a bite. Biscotti by themselves taste like cardboard, but pretty much anything tastes good if you’ve got a tasty dip. I chew and swallow, then glance back toward the queue.

The guy with the quiff and the mismatched socks shoots me another strangely intense look, and I smile. Maybe he’ll have the guts to come over and say hi. I don’t have to be at work for another half hour, so I wouldn’t mind a bit of flirting with a cute stranger to start the day off nicely.

He lurks awkwardly near the pick-up area after placing his order, but then the barista booms, “Pumpkin spice latte for Phil!” and he jumps, then walks over to pick up his drink. He glances at me again, obviously nervous, and I give him another encouraging smile.

He sips from his drink, still standing near the counter, and jerks his mouth away from the cup abruptly. Probably burnt his tongue. He shoots me another glance and smiles sheepishly, so I finally just motion him over, and he comes to sit across from me at the table. He takes the lid off of his drink and blows on the hot liquid. I notice his lips are soft and pink, his face pale and narrow with killer cheekbones.

“Hi,” I say, and take a sip of my drink. “Pumpkin spice latte, huh?” Phil gapes at me for a moment, and I begin to question his intelligence. “They just announced it when you picked up your order,” I remind him with a chuckle.

“Oh, right.” He ducks his head and blushes, and I realize he’s just really nervous for some reason. And he keeps shooting quick glances at my face then looking away again. “I’m sorry,” he says in obvious embarrassment. “This is just really weird.”

“Why is it weird?” I ask, taking another sip of my drink. “Do you not usually talk to strange men in coffee shops? Or do you not usually drink pumpkin spice lattes?” That gets an honest laugh out of him, and his face looks much more relaxed afterward.

“No,” he says, still laughing, “I always drink pumpkin spice lattes. It’s an annual rite of passage. It’s the start of the lead up to the Big C.” I raise an eyebrow in question. “Christmas!” he explains.

I nod knowingly. “Of course. There needs to be a specific dividing line for when the festive season actually officially begins, and the arrival of the pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks is that line.” He nods solemnly, taking my fake seriousness as it’s intended, and then grins.

It’s a nice grin. A nice smile in general. And his tongue peeks out just a little bit out of the corner of his mouth, which is perhaps the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen on a grown man. It should look silly, but it just looks cute as hell.

“That’s why I’m drinking one, too,” I admit. “I think they’re too sweet, personally, but who am I to argue with festive traditions?”

Phil looks aghast. “There is no such thing as too sweet!” he insists.

I just shake my head sadly. “Here I had such high hopes for us, but we’re clearly hopelessly incompatible on a basic molecular level.”

His face lights up. Almost literally. It’s like something within him just shines, and I notice the beautiful color of his pale eyes, multiple colors all at the same time. One of the colors is actually yellow, as if sunshine itself is beaming from the center of his irises. I’m a little stunned by the sudden output of pure wattage, to be honest.

“You had high hopes for us?” he asks, still beaming at me like the freaking sun. “Based on what?”

“I like a guy with mismatched socks,” I say with a smirk, getting my metaphorical feet back under me. “But the real problem is that I need to get going to work soon.” I give him a more genuine smile. I wouldn’t mind getting his number.

Phil’s eyes grow wide. “It’s Derek!” he murmurs in this voice that sounds almost awed. He seems to be staring at my smile, but he must have seen someone else behind me.

I look around. “Did you see someone you know?”

Phil blinks a few times and shakes his head. “No. Sorry. Just … you were telling me about your job,” and the weirdness seems to have vanished, leaving just his cute sort of awkward oddness behind. “What do you do?”

I sigh. I hate my job. I hate talking about my job. I hate everything that even remotely pertains to my job. “I’m a solicitor, specializing in cyber crimes,” I admit with chagrin. “I love the cyber part, but the solicitor part is a huge drag. I don’t know why I ever studied law.” I’m leaving a lot out—such as my own extracurricular forays into the “crime” part of “cyber crimes”—but I just met this guy. “What about you?” I ask, taking another sip of my PSL and noticing that it’s only half finished. We’ve been talking longer than I realized, and my drink is beginning to cool. I set the remaining half of my biscotti on my napkin, not really interested in it anymore. And I really do need to get to work.

But you know what? Fuck work. I hate that job. All those classes in computer coding, and I end up a fucking bureaucrat.

So if talking to a cute guy makes me late for work for once, who gives a fuck? Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to get fired. I can become a pianist or sell Kanye CDs on the street or something. Become a fashion model for Alexander McQueen. Make baking videos on fucking YouTube. Anything would be better than this hell job. Talking to this cute guy is definitely better.

“I’m a filmmaker,” he tells me, and I’m instantly intrigued.

“Really?” I ask, and he nods.

“I started out making movies when I was a kid. I wanted to be the next Wes Craven,” he says.

“Ah! Horror films!” He nods. “I fucking loved The Ring!”

“Me too!” Phil enthuses, and then he just sits at looks at me for a long moment as we both sip our drinks. His has apparently cooled down enough for him to drink it normally now.

“Do you feel like we’ve met before?” Phil asks out of nowhere. He’s giving me that weird stare again.

I raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Aren’t we past those kinds of pick-up lines? I think we’ve already established that I’m into you.”

He blushes the prettiest pink I’ve ever seen, the shade of his cheeks almost matching his lips, and he looks away before glancing back at me, looking adorably shy. “No. It’s not a pick-up line. I really want to know. You don’t … I don’t seem familiar to you?”

I shake my head. “Should I remember you from somewhere?”

“No. No, you shouldn’t,” he replies, and I think there’s a bit of sadness in his tone. Did he think I was someone else, and now he’s disappointed? Well, I don’t need that kind of baggage.

“I should get to work,” I say abruptly, and scoot back my chair to stand, prepared to toss the rest of my stupidly sweet PSL into the rubbish bin.

But Phil jumps to his feet and pleads, “Wait!” We stand there a moment, just watching each other, and then he takes a deep breath and says, “I’d really like to see you again. If you want that. I … I like you. More than I thought I would.”

That seems like an odd thing to say, so I raise an eyebrow. “More than you thought you would?”

Phil shrugs uncomfortably. “Well, at first you reminded me of this other guy, but once I started talking to you … I don’t know…” Yup, baggage. I don’t need that.

I head to the door and toss my cup into the rubbish, and Phil follows me. Gotta give the guy points for persistence. “Look,” he says firmly, “I know I’ve been a little weird.” I shoot him a look and he sort of laughs. “Okay, maybe a lot weird. I’m just generally kind of awkward, but … you seem really cool … and I’d really like to get to know you better. Nothing about any other guy. Just … you. I like you.” He bites his lip, and there he goes again with the adorableness. I’m not immune to it.

I can’t help but smile, and his shoulders drop about two inches in relief. “Okay. Meet me here again for coffee tomorrow? Same time. We can talk more. And maybe you can show me one of these horror movies of yours.”

“One’s showing at the independent film festival next week,” he says with shy pride. The combination of humility and self-confidence makes him even more attractive.

“It could be our first real date,” I suggest, half joking. “Will it scare me enough to make me leap into your lap?”

“One can only hope,” he replies with a grin. “Some people really like it. I hope you will, too.”

We stand and smile at each other until somebody pushes past us to get out the door. I really do need to get to work.

“So … I’ll see you here tomorrow?” I ask, and I find that I’m really looking forward to it.

“Definitely,” he says. “I promise.”

**********

Author’s Note: Now THAT is the end! I hope you enjoyed it!

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #phanfiction au #au phanfiction #phanfic au #au phanfic #virus!dan #the body electric #myphanfic

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wizardwritings · 7 years

Text

Worse Than Nicotine

Prompt: “You’re the health-conscious med student and I’m the chain-smoking art student who’s also your barista and you leave me notes on smoking and lung health on your napkins and also a 20-page essay on lung cancer tucked under your saucer” AU. Where Sirius is the chain-smoking art student.

Word Count: About 5,500.

Warning(s): Smoking, sexual tension, kissing, motorcycle ride without all the gear. Don’t accept a ride from someone on a motorcycle unless they supply the proper gear and you’re wearing pants and a heavy jacket, preferably. Do some research before riding!

Note: Sort of a modern, college AU. This isn’t smut, but, I have to warn you, it does end up being smoking hot. Hah. Get it?

To the barista with the pretty grey eyes,

Smoking can cause the lens of the eyes to fog up and the whites of the eyes to turn yellow. Don’t ruin their beauty. If not for yourself, then for those who have the pleasure of seeing them. ;)

Love, Y/N.

Sirius rolled his eyes, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he pocketed yet another note from you. If you were to open a spare drawer in his flat, you would find a collection of tossed napkins with rushed scribbles littering the surface. Maybe one day Sirius would take your insistent advice, but right now, all he wanted was a drag.

“Another love letter from your favorite med student?”

With a shrug, Sirius rested his palms on the countertop, sending his co-worker and flatmate, James, a smirk. “You could call it that.”

“What does that make it? The third one this week?” asked James, spinning a permanent marker on the tips of his fingers.

“More or less.” Sirius checked the time before peering out the cafe windows. “It’s kind of endearing, I think. You know, in an annoying, motherly sort of way.”

James let out a laugh, pushing his glasses higher on his face. “What did it say this time?”

“Oh, just not to ruin my beautiful eyes by smoking.”

“Beautiful?” James squinted, zealously searching Sirius’ face. “Your eyes? Are you sure these notes aren’t meant for me?”

Sirius snorted, brushing his hair to the side. “They’re definitely for me.”

With a mischievous grin, James drummed the tip of his pen on the counter. “Sure they are.”

When the door chimed, James was ready to take the customer’s order, making the drink himself since business was slow at this hour. Once the latte was ready and the customer was seated, he turned back to Sirius.

“But what if it’s not just for you?”

“Pardon?”

James shrugged. “I’m only saying, what if you aren’t the only mysterious, smoking barista in your little med student’s life?”

“First of all, she’s not my little med student.” Sirius paused, a small smirk playing on his face. “Not yet, anyway. And second, that’s absolutely ridiculous.”

Still, as ridiculous as James’ suggestion sounded, an unsettling feeling entered Sirius’ stomach at the thought of you flirting with someone else.

“I don’t know about that,” James drawled. “Have you even talked to her?” Sirius opened his mouth, but quickly shut it at James’ pointed look. “Besides asking for her order.”

“She’s always busy studying from that textbook of hers,” Sirius said defensively. “I was trying to be polite.”

James hummed, tapping his foot on the linoleum floor. “That’s chivalrous and all, but if she has time to write you a little note on her every visit, I think she would be more than willing to take the time to talk to you.”

Sirius thought on his best mate’s words, just now questioning why he had never made a move.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Sirius snorted, “Since when did I need girl advice from you?”

“Looks like the roles have been reversed,” James said with a grin. “A girlfriend will definitely wise you up.”

Sirius’ only response was a cocked eyebrow.

“And as the one with a girlfriend, and therefore the one who is wisest,” James chose to ignore the huff he heard from Sirius, “I say you need to talk to her before she thinks you don’t like her.”

“I will–”

“And when I say talk to her, I mean soon.” James paused. “And when I say soon, I mean tomorrow.” Taking in Sirius’ amused eye roll, James continued, “Y/N is incredibly smart and–forgive me, Lily–incredibly pretty. She’s not going to wait around if you show no interest.”

“I show plenty of interest!”

“Then you’ll be fine with showing even more tomorrow.”

“Fine. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” said James with a nod of affirmation. “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you, tomor–”

“Oh, bugger off, Prongs.”

- - - - -

To the barista with the beautiful voice,

I’ve heard you and your friend with glasses sing along to the music as you guys worked. You have an amazing voice. On a completely unrelated note, smoking can damage breathing control, dry out your vocal cords, and strain your lungs. Be careful and, please, be safe!

Love, Y/N.

Sirius didn’t bother to stop the smile that spread across his face. You really were an observant one, he thought.

Throughout that day, he had been subtly trying to sneak glances at you while you sat at your booth. That time, you had no textbook with you. Just a phone you were hurriedly typing on. It would’ve been the perfect time for Sirius to approach you.

But he didn’t. And soon enough you had left, shooting him a quick grin before tucking the napkin under your saucer.

Maybe tomorrow.

- - - - -

He really is too pretty to die.

You shook your head, blinking once. With a look of determination, you returned back to your textbook, running the cap of your highlighter underneath the words as you read.

You had to focus on studying for your exam next week. The cute barista would have to wait.

A cafe full of potential distractions might not have been the best place to study, but with your flatmates having their monthly movie night, you reckoned that a house full of drunk college girls would have been even worse. And, to be fair, you didn’t think your barista would be working a shift this late.

Plugging your earphones in, you blasted some white noise, turning the page of your textbook. Time to get busy, you told yourself.

About a quarter away from being done with your study session, you felt a warm presence above you. You looked up, your eyes flittering over to their name tag.

Sirius. Your barista. A small smile found its way across your face.

Bringing your gaze to his, you took an earphone out. “Hi.”

He smiled back with an amused expression. “Hi.”

Your nose scrunched up ever so slightly as he got closer, a faint smell of nicotine still lingering on his shirt. Trying not to be rude, you huffed softly.

“Yes, I did just have a cigarette,” Sirius supplied with a deep chuckle, answering your unvoiced question. “My shift ended and I needed to get off store grounds to smoke.”

Disappointed, you hummed slightly. You worried he would never take your notes to heart. Or worse– He paid no attention to the napkins and tossed them on sight.

“But I couldn’t leave you here alone to study without some caffeine to last you the night.” He slid you a cup of coffee, careful not to spill the drink on your books. “It’s on the house.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to– Really.”

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, giving you a noncommittal smile. “It’s the least I could do in exchange for my newly acquired knowledge on the dangers of smoking.”

“So you do read my notes!” you chirped, satisfied. “Thank goodness, I was worried my efforts were all going to waste.”

“Of course not.” He brushed the loose strands of his hair from his face with a slight smirk. “My favorite part is always the address. The barista with the pretty eyes or the soft-looking hair or the beautiful voice or the tauntingly ravishing, kissable lips–”

You let out an indignant laugh, keeping him from teasing you further. When he never responded to your little notes, you thought Sirius might have been broody and shy. But taking one look at his playful grin and relaxed posture, you realized he was anything but.

“Strange. I don’t recall ever writing the part about your lips, but,” you trailed your gaze from his eyes to his mouth in one exaggerated motion, “maybe you’re not wrong.”

He matched your stare with his, running the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. Clearing his throat, he placed the palms of his hands on his jeans.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your study time,” said Sirius as your wrapped your hands around the cup. “But hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

“Actually–” You cut yourself off, looking down at your textbook. You could finish studying tomorrow, but it wasn’t everyday a cute barista returned your advances. “I’ve finished studying for tonight. You can take a seat–you know–if you’d like.”

He grinned, glad you didn’t kick him out. Sirius slid into the booth, facing you.

Finally lifting the latte to your face, your eyebrows furrowed at the art on it. You glanced up at him only to see he was looking intently for your reaction. When Sirius caught your eye, however, he shot you a grin.

“Do you like it?”

The crema formed the shape of a delicate rose, the white foam a stark contrast from the dark latte.

“It looks beautiful,” you replied honestly, careful not to ruin the design as you moved. “You did this?”

He nodded.

“I can’t even draw this on paper,” you admitted, letting out a laugh. “I have absolutely zero artistic ability.”

“Oh, please.” Sirius raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re just being modest.”

You matched his expression with a challenging one of your own. “No, believe me; I’m really not.”

Pulling out a scratch piece of paper from the back of your notebook, you placed it in front of you. Using Sirius’ latte art as a reference, you attempted to sketch out a rose.

After almost ten minutes of frustrated grunts and feverish erasing, you turned the drawing toward Sirius to reveal a meek, two inch drawing of something that resembled a flower.

Taking the paper in his hands, Sirius held it up to the light. “I mean, if you squint really hard and shake the paper really fast, it looks quite interesting.”

“Funny,” you deadpanned, grabbing hold of Sirius’ forearm to stop him from shaking the paper. You made a face. “Not everyone can be blessed with artistic abilities.”

“It just takes practice.” Sirius leaned back into his seat as you took a sip of your latte. “And, perhaps, you should stick to your annoyingly endearing cigarette facts.”

You huffed, the corners of your mouth tilting upward in a wry smile as a comfortable silence fell over you. The only sound heard in the coffee shop was the muffled music being played from the speakers. Scanning Sirius up and down, you saw he carried an aura of effortless elegance you had never noticed before.

Shifting slightly, you mixed a packet of sugar into your coffee. “The notes didn’t annoy you, did they?”

He cocked his head to the side.

“Because they weren’t meant to be naggy,” you said in a rushed tone. “It’s just… I know how detrimental smoking can be and I didn’t want you to get–”

“I told you,” Sirius started, waving you off with one look, “I like them.” He brushed his hair behind his ear. “Now, if it were anyone else, I might’ve been annoyed. But it was you… An intelligent, beautiful girl that I was lucky enough to catch the attention of.”

His gaze stayed focused on your face, the sudden attention causing heat to rush to your cheeks. The amount of times you blushed in a conversation embarrassed you; you were a normally collected person, but the smallest of compliments could set you off.

You took a sip of coffee, keeping the mug in front of your face in an attempt to hide your blush. “I have plenty more facts about smoking. Maybe one you’ll actually listen to.”

Sirius laughed lightly, shaking his head at your accusatory look. “I read every word, sweetheart. And I will admit, I haven’t been smoking as much.”

“Really?”

“Only a couple cigarettes a day.”

“Sirius!”

He smirked at your cry of concern, offhandedly stating, “It’s better than a pack in one sitting.”

“You better be joking.”

“You act as if nicotine is the worst thing in the world, Y/N.” Sirius rubbed the back of his shoulder, keeping his eyes on you. “I’d say there are things worse than nicotine.”

“It’s not nicotine that’s the problem.” You paused, pursing your lips. “Well, it is. In a way. It’s a stimulant like caffeine, which isn’t too bad, but nicotine is a highly addictive drug and the fastest way to get your fix is by smoking. And as I’ve stated in my notes, in the long run, smoking–”

You broke off abruptly, hoping Sirius didn’t think you were looking down on him.

“I mean, not that I’m trying to pressure you into quitting.” You broke your gaze, staring down into your coffee as you mindlessly stirred it around. “If you do decide to quit, it should be a conscious decision that you make for yourself.”

“I know.” He nudged the edge of your shoe with his, causing you to look up to see a small smile on his face. “Now stop worrying that you’re going to hurt my feelings. I’m a big boy; I can handle it.”

Rolling your eyes, you let the conversation shift into something more lighthearted. You asked him about his art, he told you to ask him for lessons anytime, you told him you might have to take him up on his offer. He asked if you had a life outside of med school, you replied with a hearty shove.

Before you knew it, the two of you were leaning closer to the edges of your chairs, becoming more comfortable as time went on. You didn’t want this to end. But when you caught a glimpse of the time on your phone, you knew it had to soon. Trying to find a bus to bring you home to your drunk flatmates at eleven o’clock at night wasn’t exactly the safest thing.

“Well,” you said hesitantly, “it’s getting late. I better head home.”

Sirius nodded, standing up next to you. “I might as well go, too. Let me walk you out.”

When you made it out of the cafe doors, Sirius bidding his co-workers a farewell and goodnight, you searched the parking lot for the nearest street with a bus stop. You turned to Sirius, his face pale under the harsh street lights.

“Can I walk you to your car?”

“I actually didn’t drive here today.” Kicking up the gravel with the tip of your shoe, you felt his gaze on you. “I’ve never been a fan of driving at night.”

“Hmm.” Sirius nodded with a slight hum. “I’ll wait with you until your ride gets here, then?”

“I was going to take the bus.” At his curious glance you continued, “My flatmates and I usually have a girl’s night a few times a month, but I had to study.” The breezed up, prickling your skin as you rubbed your arms under your shirt. “So I asked one of them to drop me off and told them I had a ride home.”

He quirked a brow. “But you don’t.”

You shrugged, tucking your stray hairs behind your ear. “They needed a night to unwind; I didn’t want them to worry about me.”

“That’s ridiculously selfless of you,” Sirius stated, moving closer when he saw the goosebumps on your arms. There was a comforting warmth radiating through his uniform and you had to keep yourself from pulling him closer. “I can give you a ride to your flat, if you’d like.”

“No– It’s fine. The bus stop isn’t too far from here.”

Sirius folded his arms, shaking his head slightly. “Not that I doubt your capabilities, but I could never just let you navigate your way through the city at this hour.”

You bit your lower lip. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not,” he insisted. “But do you know what would be a bother?”

You didn’t respond.

“Leaving you here and spending the rest of my night wondering if you made it home safely.”

Rolling your eyes, you fought off a smile. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Beaming, Sirius took your hand in his, leading you to the staff parking lot. You may have just had your first real conversation with him today, but getting a ride from him still beat wandering the streets at midnight. Plus, the feeling of his hand around yours helped warm you up. That, of course, was the only reason you enjoyed it.

Telling him your address, he entered it into his phone GPS. His eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve actually dropped James off there before…”

He trailed off, a small smirk making its way onto his face. You have him a curious look, but decided not to question it.

Soon enough, Sirius pulled out his keys and a small clang sounded. He let go of your hand and patted the vehicle in front of him.

Your jaw almost dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He met your dubious expression with a smirk of his own. Unlocking the chain, Sirius looked up at you to say three simple words. “You like it?”

Folding your arms, amusement flooded your features. You shook your head slightly, the corners of your lips tilting upward as you saw Harley-Davidson branded on the ride. “Why does this not surprise me?”

“I’m going to pretend that was meant as a compliment,” said Sirius, passing you a spare helmet.

You raised your eyebrow in question, wondering why he kept more than one with him.

“When James–my co-worker with the messy hair and glasses,” he paused at your giggle, smiling. “When James and I have the same shift, I usually give him a ride to our flat. So I make sure to bring an extra helmet with me.”

“That’s the only reason?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “So charming random girls at the cafe and wooing them with your hot ride isn’t a frequent ploy of yours?”

“Nah,” Sirius drawled, unbuckling the strap of the helmet with his fingers. “Not frequent. I do it once a week, at most.”

You rolled your head to the side, jutting your lower lip out slightly. “I’m not sure I want a ride from you anymore.”

He laughed, the soft sound echoing in the empty parking lot. “I’m only kidding, sweetheart. Don’t fret– Unless you consider James competition. But I must say, with his tight grip and delightfully caffeinated scent, he might be tough to beat.”

“Well, damn.”

Shooting him a coy smile, you grabbed the helmet from his hands, plopping it onto your head. Sirius gave you a once-over, eyes stopping at the loose strap under your chin. Leaning forward, his fingers brushed against your jawline, tightening the helmet so it fit snugly atop your head.

“Safety first,” he murmured, face still mere inches away from yours.

With a lazy smirk, Sirius pulled away, tugging the back of your helmet to make sure it wouldn’t come off before patting the top of your helmet. You huffed, slapping his hands off.

“Sorry.” With a hint of laughter in his voice, he didn’t sound very apologetic. “You just look too damn cute for your own good in that.”

“Cute?” Your lips turned down into a pout as you folded your arms, trying to look aggressive through your face shield. You unbuckled the helmet and placed it under your arm.

“Cute,” Sirius affirmed, breaking out into a grin as he pinched your cheeks. “And your little pout just makes you look even cuter.”

You attempted to pushed his hands away, but they somehow managed to stay rested on your face. “Just cute?”

“Amongst other things,” he breathed, brushing a small spot behind your ear with the pad of his thumb. As he pulled away with a cheeky grin, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Sirius laughed at your reaction.

“That wasn’t funny,” you scowled, nudging him in the arm to let him know you weren’t upset.

“‘Course not.” Pulling a shirt out from his Harley, he turned back to you. “I’m just going to change, teach you the basics of riding as a passenger, then we’ll be off.”

Without giving you the time to turn around, he pulled his polo off, swapping it for a loose-fitting black tee. Your gaze followed the exposed parts of his abdomen as he fumbled with getting his shirt on. You caught a glimpse of black ink on Sirius’ chest, furrowing your eyebrows as you tried to make out what it was before he clothed himself.

Sirius met your stare with one of his own. You quirked a brow at him.

“You smoke, you ride a motorcycle, and you have tattoos?” You gave him an amused smile. “You’re my father’s worst nightmare.”

“Let’s hope you’re not a daddy’s girl, then.” He didn’t give you time to process what he said, instead holding his own helmet under his arm. “Anyway, when you’re on the motorcycle, I need you hold on as tightly to my waist are you’re comfortable with.”

You nodded, noticing his sober expression. Riding a motorcycle wasn’t a joke and he wanted to make sure you knew that. Still, it was something that should feel fun and exhilarating.

“If I’m accelerating or riding too fast, wrap your legs around mine.” You raised an eyebrow and even Sirius couldn’t help but smirk at that. “By doing so, you will get a better grip and, at the same time, tell me that I should probably slow down.”

Sirius went on with a brief summary on what to do and how to communicate with him while riding and, by the end of it, your stomach fluttered with nerves and excitement. You all but clambered onto the bike, putting your helmet on and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Keep them here,” he stated with a small laugh, bringing your hands hands from the center of his abdomen to his sides.

Feeling rejected you let out a soft, “Oh.” Maybe you were reading this incorrectly and Sirius had no interest in you after all.

Sensing your discomfort, Sirius placed his hand on top of yours, briefly interlacing them to give you a firm squeeze.

“It’s not that I don’t want your arms wrapped around me–because, trust me,” he let out a throaty chuckle, his voice growing quieter, “if I had my way, your arms wouldn’t be the only thing wrapped around me.”

You bristled, your face flaming at his wanton statement. For a moment, you were glad you had a bulky helmet on to cover your tomato-like complexion.

Feeling you stiffen, Sirius threw his head back at your reaction, his chest vibrating with his deep laughter. You edged away from him on the seat and you knew if you could see his face, he’d be smirking.

“But it’s not about me right now.” He turned back to you once he sobered, eyes searching for yours through your face shield. “Right now, what matters is your safety, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmured, giving his side a gentle squeeze.

Securing his own helmet on the top of his head, Sirius revved the engine, checking one last time to see if you were comfortable.

You laughed at his concern. If anything, you thought Sirius would’ve been the type of guy to ride without a helmet, going at dangerous speeds to prove his expertise. But, so far, he had been nothing but cautious. A little too cautious, in your opinion.

“I’m fine, Sirius. Now–what is it you told me?–stop worrying. I’m a big girl; I can handle it.” You heard his airy breath of amusement through the low speeds of the parking lot. “Now, take a little risk.”

You saw him shake his head, voice swimming with mirth from your challenging words. “That’s what I like to hear.”

And with that, he took off.

The city lights passed by in a blur, the breeze biting into your exposed arms and you were grateful for your helmet a second time today. In the middle of the night, the streets were yours; the cars were sparse and space was plenty.

An estranged mixture of fear and excitement coursed through your veins as you tighten your grip around Sirius’ abdomen. It wasn’t until he slowed down and pulled closer to the sidewalk did you notice you were screaming the whole time.

“Are you alright?” he called, amusement lacing his tone.

“Better than alright!” You attempted to lower your voice, not wanting to yell in Sirius’ ear. “I just scream when I’m excited, sorry.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he accelerated once more. Though he wasn’t going very fast, the force of inertia caused you to wrap your legs around his. You were vaguely aware of the feeling of your thighs pressed against his as you edged your body closer to the center of the seat, leaning your head to the side to avoid knocking Sirius’ helmet.

As soon as you fell into the groove of riding, you placed your feet back on your own pegs, taking one arm off of Sirius and stretching it out above your head. With the breeze billowing through your fingers and tossing your hair back, you’ve never felt more in touch with your surroundings.

“Yeah!” you cried, urging Sirius to drive faster.

You felt the rumble of his laugh through his thin shirt, thinking how unfair it was that warmth exuded from his back despite the cold air around him while you had goosebumps covering every square inch of your arms.

Before you knew it, Sirius had pulled up in front of your flat, the motorcycle silencing itself to nothing more than a soft purr. Killing the engine, he helped you off, keeping his hands on your waist for longer than he needed to.

“So,” you breathed, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth.

Sirius let his hands linger around you before slowly retracting them. “So.”

“Thank you for the ride.”

“It was my pleasure.”

You nodded, avoiding eye contact. Any charm you might have previously possessed went down the drain when Sirius stared at you. All you knew was you missed the warmth of his body on yours.

“Going to have a smoke after this?” you remarked, arms folded in a challenge.

He let out a huff of amusement, running the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek. A sideways grin made its way onto his face. “Depends. If I say yes will you stay out here and make sure I don’t?”

You gave Sirius’ arm a playful push, leaving your gentle grip on his tricep. “If that’s what it takes.”

Running your fingers along the light cloth of his sleeve, you smirked at the slight tightening of his muscles. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at you, deliberately skimming his lower lip with his tongue.

Two can play that game, you thought with a small shake of your head.

Stepping closer, you peered at his face through the harsh lights littering the streets, the gleam casting a shadow on his eyelashes. Tilting your head to the side, you brushed the tip of your index finger over the cool skin of his cheekbone.

You moved back, pretending not to feel the intense stare Sirius was burning into you. You shot him and innocent smile, bringing your forefinger and thumb together.

“Eyelash.”

Though you shifted away from him, the proximity between the two of you still left you in a compromising position. Focusing your attention back on Sirius, you noticed the bottomless greys of his eyes had turned a stormy color from your interaction, his jaw clenching.

Blowing the stray eyelash from your thumb, you shut your eyes, making a wish. When you finished, you slowly looked up at him, smiling. But his gaze was already on your lips.

You tried not to smirk.

Testing the limits, you cupped your hand under his chiseled jaw, running your thumb along the light stubble peppering his face.

“Sweetheart,” Sirius rasped, a tone of warning laced through his voice.

You traced a circular pattern on him, your touch so light he barely felt it. Still, he was aware–painfully aware–that it was there. Your hot breath was feathering the base of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing at your light touches.

“Did you want me to stop–”

A low growl escaped from the back of his throat as Sirius grasped your wrist firmly in his large hand. He rubbed the sensitive part of your forearm with the callous of his thumb.

So, he doesn’t like being teased.

“Sweetheart,” he said again, voice still hoarse, “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I think I do.” You fingered the hem of his shirt, daring to inch closer. “But how about you show me, anyway?”

And he did.

Dropping your wrist, Sirius placed one hand on the small of your back, pressing your body against his, and the other cupped against your cheek.

As he toyed with the strands of hair framing your face, twirling it around his forefinger, Sirius kept his gaze intently on yours. He trailed his fingers down the length of your hair, the edges of his knuckles skimming past the crevice of your chest.

A satisfied smirk formed on his face as you shuddered, arching away from him, his other hand still applying a pressure just above the curve of your ass.

“Sirius.” You almost groaned, your voice strangled in need. You wanted more. You wanted his lips on your lips, his hands in your hair– More.

His amused hum rang through your body, heat spreading to the core of your abdomen. Still, he made no move to change his pace.

Lacing his fingers through the back of your hair, Sirius gave it a slight tug, causing you to expose the vulnerable parts of your neck to him. He continued the stroke his thumb in downward motions through the material of your leggings, peppering your jawline with chaste kisses. He started near your chin, making his way up to where the base of your ear met your neck. His stubble tickled your jaw, leaving you to wonder how it would feel elsewhere.

Moving away ever so slightly, Sirius brushed the spot behind your ear with his soft lips, blowing a hot puff of air against your cool skin.

You shivered.

He was getting you back for teasing him. But he was going harder.

You were getting frustrated. Your stomach twisted in anticipation, heat coursing through your veins. In that very moment, there was nothing you wanted more than for Sirius to place his mouth on yours.

“Please,” you moaned.

With his lips still brushing the base of your ear, he whispered, “Please what?”

Grabbing at the collar of his shirt, you pulled his face closer to yours. “Please– Just kiss me, already.”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

A strangled whimper escaped from your mouth. You were are the end of your line, unable to take his continuous teasing any longer. Taking matters into your own hand, you stood on the tips of your toes, craning your neck up to meet his lips.

“Finally,” you murmured against his mouth, causing Sirius to laugh into the kiss.

The deep vibrations from his chuckle rang through your body, a feeling of pleasure erupting in your chest. You eased into his caress as you brought your hand to cup his jaw, stroking his peppered stubble.

His large hand pressed against your lower back, pushing your hips against the rough material of his jeans. For a second, Sirius broke the kiss, nipping the soft flesh of your bottom lip, then soothing the spot with the tip of his tongue.

The next moment, his mouth was back on yours, moving against you in a tantalizing dance. The night filled with the cacophonous sounds of gasps and groans. You were sure Sirius could feel your heart beating erratically through your ribcage, your chest flattened against the defined muscles of his.

The kiss was better than you could have ever imagined.

You pulled away, breathing heavily for some much needed air. Sirius let his forehead rest on top of yours, his lips parted in a pant, his warm breath teasing your hypersensitive skin.

He grinned, breathless and dazed by the kiss still lingering on his mouth. “Now, wasn’t that worth the wait, sweetheart?”

You let out an amused huff, your arms still around his neck. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Sirius trailed his hands down from your waist, to your hips, and went lower still, stopping to cup the curve of your ass.

“Still going to have a smoke after this?” you breathed, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

He wore a hooded expression, smoothing the furrow between your brows with a light kiss. You looked back up at him to find a look on his face that made your stomach churn.

“Nah.” Sirius removed your hands from around him, toying with the tips of your fingers. “I’m good.”

Interlacing his hand through yours, he gave you a small, but firm, kiss on the lips.

“I think I found something much better than nicotine.”

Aw, I can’t stop grinning. I hope you guys enjoyed! xx Fia.

#sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #sirius black #sirius black one shot #harry potter one shot #marauders #marauders imagine #sirius black smut #well kind of smut #james potter #motorcycle ride #smoking #worse than nicotine

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