#not even smoking behind the school with your classmates to try and seem all grown up

[talesfrom-theupsidedown]

Sink or Swim [Billy Hargrove x GenderNeutral!reader] Ch. 1

Summary: Working at the local Snack Shack at Hawkins Pool wasn’t your dream but it’s a decent summer job before college. It did come with a perk of being in proximity to the recent California transfer and resident asshole, Billy Hargrove. Having a nice view of the handsome blond was good enough, but when circumstances lead you to an encounter with Billy and then a chance to become friends, perhaps even more, you can’t stay away. Maybe Billy Hargrove isn’t such an asshole after all. [Canon with a variation]

Warnings: eventual mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol, sexual themes.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: I’m so freaking excited to finally be sharing this story! Please let me know your thoughts! Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. :) I will also be adding each chapter to AO3 and Wattpad shortly after this posts, if you prefer to read over there. I’ll be posting under the username @avengerofyourheart​ , which is also my main blog here on tumblr. Love you!! 

Part One        Part Two>>> 

Sink or Swim Series Masterlist

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The first official encounter you had with Billy Hargrove was unexpected, brief and…surprisingly sweet. Every one after that seemed to be moronic (on your part) and…embarrassing. 

Naturally. 

Getting a job at the Snack Shack at Hawkins Community Pool wasn’t your first choice, but it was just for the summer. In the fall, you were headed to college and would get to leave your small town behind. In the mean time, you would be selling junk food to your former classmates and their younger siblings every day. Awesome. 

Billy got a job as one of the lifeguards, which wasn’t much of a surprise. From what you could collect through gossip floating around the high school, the mullet-wearing, muscled, Camaro-driving asshole was a former surfer from California, so the position fit him. And despite confirmation of his prickly personality, you weren’t mad about the sight of Billy in nothing but a pair of red swim trunks, sunglasses, and a whistle around his neck. 

Hot damn.

Billy never knew you existed in school, since you were less than popular and ran in different circles. Not surprising. You saw him around, though, even sharing a few classes together. He seemed bored with school and didn’t really try but somehow still got passing grades. Billy was the athletic type, enjoying gym class but especially basketball. Or maybe it was just fun for him to mess with King Steve Harrington, and it was enjoyable for you to witness at times as well. Knowing Steve all your life, you agreed that he could stand to be taken down a peg or two. The bigger the hair, the bigger the ego and Steve’s had grown exponentially the past few years in both regards. 

Then there was graduation and the idea of freedom and new beginnings. But first, you had to survive the summer.

During employee orientation just after school let out, you were there and Billy showed up late as one could expect. A few days of training followed with you learning all the equipment in the Snack Shack and which scoop was the correct portion for every item. Not exactly rocket science. At the same time, the lifeguards were getting CPR certification and practicing rescue drills. Looked like more fun than you what you were doing. 

Billy tended to hang back from the group during the vocal instructions, sometimes smoking a cigarette when he probably shouldn’t be. But when it came to the practical learning, he was all in, practicing CPR on dummies and “rescuing” his co-workers during drills. His swimming was strong and for timed rescues he did the best. Huh. Perhaps he’s not so apathetic about everything as it would seem. 

Once the pool opened, you were given morning shifts at first, which was fine but the Snack Shack was not that busy until kids started begging their parents for lunch. Time crawled when there wasn’t anything to do, but it did give you a chance to peek at the happenings at the pool. Swimming classes were early, before the pool opened to the public. Most of the time you were just setting up so hearing the gaggle of six-year-olds arriving had you glancing over to see what was up. 

Billy Hargrove was quite the enigma. Given his reputation, yes, he could be an asshole at times. During public hours when he was in the chair, he had a tendency to blow his whistle and yell across the pool at the supposed offender, often threatening a permanent ban. Well, that’s one approach. It did seem to do the trick, though. At least they knew he was serious and it could be said that personal safety was a serious matter that justified a heavier-handed method.

During those early mornings twice a week, though, when Billy was surrounded by tiny kids in water wings and swim suits with little skirts attached, he almost…transformed. He spoke softer and smiled more than you thought him capable of. It was really sweet, watching him explain what he wanted the kids to do while on dry land before even getting in the pool. He forced the parents to stay across the way and out of ear reach, knowing that he could still get their attention should one of their precious little ones need to go to the bathroom or something. Billy didn’t seem to want the parents hovering, otherwise. Makes sense. 

The little ones adored him, surprisingly. Listening to his softer, gentle instructions when one of them was crying or lifting them up to sit on the side for a short break. Being small and learning a lot of new, scary things at once could be overwhelming, you assumed. Billy gave each one of them a high-five at the end of lessons and a few even gave him a hug. 

One morning, you had just opened the metal gate at the counter and turned around to grab some tongs when you heard a voice behind you.

“Hey.” 

Turning to the sound, you were surprised to see Billy on the other side of your counter. 

“…hi?” you replied, startled. 

“So, I’m sure you’re not open yet but could I trouble you for a popsicle? I got a little girl with a skinned knee and parents on their way. I promised her one if she’d quit crying. I can’t handle crying kids,” Billy said gruffly. Although you had seen evidence to the contrary, you just nodded. 

“Sure. Flavor preference?” you croaked out through a suddenly dry throat. 

“Nah. Whatever you have. I don’t have my wallet with me but I can swing by later and—“

“Don’t worry about it,” you interrupted, handing him the frozen treat. “Emergency popsicles are on the house.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” 

Billy offered a tight smile and walked away to a tiny girl seated on a lounge chair wrapped in a towel, the saddest expression on her face. She was trying to be brave but her body was still shaken by a sob every few moments. Billy crouched down to her level and handed her popsicle, now distracted enough for him to disinfect and bandage the skinned knee. Huh. So Billy did have a soft side, if maybe not for anyone his own size. Interesting. 

A week or two later it was abundantly clear that whoever was closing up the Snack Shack was doing a shit job and it just made your job harder in the mornings. Nothing was properly cleaned and ingredients weren’t prepped like they should be. After a gentle mention to your supervisor, somehow the solution was that you would be switching to the late shift so the job would be done right. Because properly training and disciplining your co-workers was little too much work. Great. 

You mourned the loss of the slow mornings and peeks of Swim Instructor Billy for a moment, but you got over it. Afternoon shifts were crazy busy and at least the time passed quickly. You hadn’t seen Billy come by since that first morning, but that was to be expected. Since then, you had your duties and he had his. Interaction with him just never really happened. 

Until it did. 

One night after the pool closed, you had pulled down the metal gate at the snack shack counter and were finishing the last of your clean up. Suddenly, music began to play from the direction of the pool. Peeking out the side door in curiosity, you spotted Billy with a boom box, music now blaring from the lifeguard tower. He climbed down and went about his evening checklist as the sun began to set. 

Once the pool closed, the last lifeguard was in charge of cleaning the pool, properly arranging the lounge chairs even though they would be shifted within minutes tomorrow morning, and sweeping leaves off the deck. While many of the other lifeguards often bitched about the responsibility and would do a half-assed job, Billy seemed okay with it. Oddly enough, he did it well and without complaint. The music probably made the tasks more bearable. 

Returning to your own closing tasks, you finished wiping down all the counters, washed the dishes to let them air dry, and the last item on your list was taking out the trash. You could dump it on the way out so you gathered your backpack and stowed away your apron and visor. So stylish. 

Backpack slung over one shoulder, you tried to carry a rather heavy trash bag in each hand while also opening the side door and making sure it was locked. Once you stepped outside, though, a peculiar sight quickly distracted you. 

To your surprise, the supposed asshole and lifeguard extraordinaire, Billy Hargrove, was currently lip-synching while using a push-broom as a microphone stand. Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” blasted from the speakers as the other Billy before you head-banged to the beat and pumped a fist into the air as the words “More. More. More…more, more more!” rang out across the empty pool deck. As the chorus ended, Billy raised his face to the sky and jumped in place, his handsome features sharpened by the blue light emitting from the pool. A wide smile stretched across Billy’s face as the makeshift mic stand became an electric guitar in his hands.

Entranced by the sight, you unconsciously shifted the weight of one of the trash bags and lost your grip, knocking over a stack of empty buckets. Smooth. 

The sound caused Billy’s head to whip toward you and his posture stiffened, eyes shifting around for other witnesses. Gathering your senses, you finally let the door close behind you and raised your free hand in an awkward greeting. 

“Sorry, I—“ 

But nothing else came out. 

Dammit. Giving up at an attempt in human communication, you picked up the trash and hauled ass toward the parking lot. The short glance backward that you allowed yourself showed that Billy was back to sweeping, his head down. Your heart sank. For a split second you got to see another side of Billy. Maybe what everyone else has said was a ruse. What was Billy like when no one else was around? You sure felt free enough to be yourself in the safety of an empty space. Or that you thought was empty. Unintentionally, you had intruded on that and ruined Billy’s moment. 

Sigh. 

Maybe you could make up for it…

Tossing the trash bags in the parking lot dumpster, you walked over to your nearby bike, unlocked it, and rode home with the evening’s exchange running on rotation the whole way home. 

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A few days later, you got a chance to act on your plan when it was just the two of you closing up again. If your intruding on Billy’s post-work jams made him uncomfortable, then it was time to even the playing field. 

By humiliating yourself. 

Finishing up your inside projects first, you then headed outside to place the patio chairs on top the tables in preparation of sweeping your own area. Billy spared you a glance upon your appearance but quickly returned to his attention to ridding the pool of leaves and dead bugs. His boombox blared music once again, playing songs from the local rock station. 

Heart pounding, you started to sweep and waited until a familiar sang came on. Soon the band Foreigner blasted from the stereo. Perfect. Abandoning your task, you bobbed your head to the beat as the first lyrics began. 

“Well, I’m hot-blooded, check it to see

I’ve got a fever of a hundred and three

Come on, baby, do you do more than dance? 

I’m hot-blooded, hot-blooded.”

Lip-synching in an exaggerated manner, you spun around with the broom in your hands and taking a page out of Billy’s book, chose to use it as a microphone. You jerked your limbs about, perhaps to be taken as dancing, and dove into the second verse. 

“You don’t have to read my mind,

to know what I have in mind.

Honey, you ought to know. 

Yeah, you move so fine,

let me lay it on the line.

I wanna know what you’re 

doing after the show.” 

Having gotten lost in the moment, you finally took a glance in the pool’s direction to see Billy standing in place, the pool net loose in his grip. Was that a smile you could see on his face? Bingo. You finished out the song with some air guitar and a windmill or two, leaning against a table to catch your breath as the last notes of Foreigner ended. 

To your surprise, you heard clapping and you whirled around to see the sound coming from Billy. Now feeling the humiliation of your little show, you weren’t sure what to do now. Finally settling on an awkward bow in reply, you then ran back inside the Snack Shack to stow away your apron and grab your bag. Aiming to reach the parking lot and be gone by the time Billy appeared, you thankfully succeeded. You rode your bike down the street and around the corner just in time to hear the easily identifiable Camaro roar to life. 

Perhaps your next encounter with Billy wouldn’t involve personal embarrassment. The possibility was unlikely at this point, but one could dream. 

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The next week, you were having one of the worst days ever at your job so far. Some kid spilled a soda all over your counter and down onto the floor and the most you could do in the moment was throw down some towels. By the time you got a break in customers, you were left with a solid, sticky mess. Your manager also hadn’t staffed enough people for the weekend so you had to fend for yourself once again. 

No one else had taken out the trash and had instead piled up bags by the side door so you were taking one of multiple trips out to the parking lot long after closing. Lifting the dumpster lid with one hand, you chucked one bag inside with the other but as you raised the second bag, a sharp metal edge caught the plastic and ripped. Of course it did. The 6 inch hole began to spill out its contents of half-empty soda cups and chip bags. At least it wasn’t the bag full of food scraps. 

“God-fucking-DAMMIT!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, dropping the bag to the pavement. 

“Oh, shit,” you heard from you behind you. 

Turning swiftly to the sound, you spotted Billy Hargrove with car keys in hand, fresh from a shower. 

Perfect. It had to be him who was still around. 

Once again embarrassed, you glanced at the mess around you, including a half-full lukewarm soda cup that was open and now soaking into your shoe. 

“Sorry, I—“ 

Nothing else came out. Once again, you couldn’t progress in communication any further in his presence. Picking up the bag but upside down, you finally got it inside the dumpster and started collecting the trash that had fallen out. From your crouched position, you suddenly saw another pair of hands helping. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you managed to squeak out. 

“It’s no big deal,” Billy replied, tossing a few items in the dumpster and then holding the lid for you to throw in the last of it. 

“Thank you.” 

Finding the courage to meet his eye, you discovered you were only a few feet from Billy. You’d never seen him that closely. Damp curls framed his face with bright blue eyes catching yours and a cautious smile on his lips. Damn, he was cute. 

“I’m Billy,” he said, offering his hand. 

“Hargrove,” you finished his name. “I know. We had two classes together last year.” You almost accepted his shake but remembered what you had just touched and pulled away. 

“Right,” Billy replied, sheepish. “Remind me?” 

Catching on, you shared your name. 

“Y/N,” he repeated. “Of course. Nice visor.” 

The blond flicked the bill with one finger, unsettling the visor on your head. 

You huffed out a laugh, tugging it back on. “Yeah, well. Not everyone can pull off the look. I consider myself lucky.” 

Billy burst out a genuine chuckle, causing a warm, happy flip in your stomach.

“Well. I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he said, walking backward toward his car. 

“Yup. Bye.” 

You received the gift of watching Billy’s backside in motion for a few moments before you had the sense to stop staring. Time to finally finish this hellish workday and go home. 

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Part Two>>>

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Thoughts??? I just love a softer Billy, okay? He deserves all the good things, starting with maybe...a friend? I guess we’ll see. :D Also I know Hot Blooded was in a ~certain scene~ but I’m choosing to take it back, mmkay? I’d love to know your thoughts on this fic! Reblogs, comments, etc., are very much appreciated. You can even send me an ask if you’d like! I appreciate youuuu. :) 

Also if you want to be added to my tag list, please let me know! 

Billy tag list: 

@every-dayiwakeup @feelmyroarrrr @someonehelpshit @ria132love @sebbytrash​ @withahintofpestoaioli​ @nogitsunbae​ @ickypuppi3​ @prettybillycore​  

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x gender neutral!reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove #lifeguard billy #stranger things #stranger things fic #william hargrove #stranger things fan fiction #reader x billy hargrove #sink or swim fic #talesfrom-theupsidedown fic

[anyoneseenadam]

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

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You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.  

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!”  you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

[tetsurobunni]

The Final Battle

☞ harry potter x jjk crossover au // 3.9k words

☽ the battle of hogwarts: jjk style, remnants of satosugu friendship, pain, hurt, more pain…sigh… pure angst with a magical twist for flavor

☽ warnings : major character death

☽ pairing : satoru gojo x suguru getou

☞ my inner harry potter geek really came out full force with this one…so did my sad writer juices i apologize beforehand :)

“satoru….hey, professor nanami cast the spell to defend the school. it won’t be long…”

“i know. i’ll join you when it’s time.”

the illuminating sheen of the dome rose high over the towers of hogwarts. gojo could hear the hum radiating from it, the power from the spell glowing against the overcast sky.

this is it.

should he count his blessings? pray? to what deity, or god, or higher being should he speak to before his world comes crushing down?

gojo’s wand feels heavy in the palm of his hand, thumb gently grazing over the smooth spruce. he imagines the dragon heartstring at its core, the beast he knew lived inside.

he had seen it himself, his peers had too. how even before traveling to hogwarts in his first year just how powerful a wizard he was-and would grow up to be.

if only he knew where he would be in his seventh year. standing in front of the large oak doors leading to the great hall, his fellow students young and old rushing into place all around him, wiping their brows and preparing for a war.

a war that would cost gojo everything.

he knew who he would see on the other side of the battle. the image of his face made gojo’s stomach churn and his chest ache.

his best friend.

his only friend.

he felt a hand rest atop his left shoulder, the scuffed toes of professor nanami’s boots coming into view beside him. he met his professor’s eyes, receiving a small nod of acknowledgment. gojo had grown quite close to his professor throughout his years at hogwarts. he was one of the only people that had garnered gojo’s appreciation and trust.

nanami knew. he had watched all of them grow up, after all. he was the one who informed gojo of the news that sent him spiraling.

that was two years ago.

now, as voldemort rallied his followers and dark creatures of the forest, gojo knew he would face him again.

“the spell is weakening.”

“it was only a matter of time.”

“are you prepared?”

“no.”

“neither am i. but we must.”

with a pat on his shoulder the professor left his side, sheathing the oak wand in his sleeve.

“strength. endurance. tolerance. balance. practicality. that is what my wand stands for. each of you have your own unique wand that chose you; yes, the core of your wand does hold great power and meaning, but so does the wood that keeps it intact. it is a vessel. and it is strong.”

gojo remembers listening to his professor and thinking he was absurd. but his friend had watched on with glimmering eyes, thirsty for new knowledge, and he had decided that maybe the idea wasn’t all that abhorring.

“hawthorn. somewhat arrogant, reflection, intelligence, vigor, new beginnings or endings. feels most at home with a wizard of natural talent. wicked, eh satoru? what about yours?”

“ah, mines spruce. quick-witted, adaptable, flamboyant, strength, resistance, is known for its unusually fast reactions and somewhat stubborn nature in the hands of a nervous or untrained wizard or witch. good thing i’m not that, eh?”

“your wand is supposed to be stubborn? you’ve had no problems!”

“well of course i haven’t! i don’t remember a moment in my life where i’ve ever been nervous. no wonder…”

the conversation had drifted away in a few minutes, the flickering of the lantern lulling gojo to sleep. when he came to, the weight of a second robe rested on his shoulders. he had ignored the blush that rose on his cheeks and wiped drool from the corner of his mouth

gojo had looked down at the book that ended up as his makeshift pillow and found himself mindlessly reading more information. gojo had failed to mention the extra research he had done; it was innocent, just an extra flip of a page. what he read he never told.

‘although hawthorn is a very powerful wood, it is adept to curses. many of those who practise dark magic have been affiliated with wands made from hawthorn. they are not to be taken lightly in the wrong hands.’

he didn’t regret it then, but after he had gotten the news from nanami about what his friend did, the guilt ate him alive.

now as he looks out the castle doors to the cracks spindling in luminescence revealing the murky darkness of the stormy sky, gojo realizes that this might be his last day at hogwarts.

the realization is fleeting. he can’t afford to be thinking that way. not now. he feels the eyes of his classmates pouring into his being. they’re looking to him to save them.

you should just try to save yourselves.

itadori comes to stand to his right, fushiguro to his left. maki and nobara flank behind him.

this is is family. they all know their tie to one another. they’ve been training together for almost a year on their combat skills. itadori had been experiencing some difficulties, but nonetheless proved to be the closest match to gojo himself.

“holly. with a phoenix feather core. why?”

“just curious. look up what your wood means sometime, will ya?”

“yea…sure. not sure what that has to do with anything…”

gojo and professor nanami both had thought his wand would be made of dogwood- it matched itadori’s personality-the holly was a surprise. paired along with a phoenix feather core was practically unheard of.

but as the dark magic started to rise, itadori started to blossom. he was an amazing wizard.

gojo had his own hypotheses, but as always kept them to himself. no need to cause any further turmoil in his life.

“gojo?”

“you can call me satoru, y’know.”

“sure…gojo?”

“…yes itadori”

“i’m scared.”

gojo felt his heart clench. the boy beside him might be powerful, but still just that- a boy. he didn’t deserve this. none of them did.

“you can always back away. you know that, right?”

he watched as itadori looked across the bridge towards the darkness, then to his friends and classmates surrounding them.

“gojo?”

“hm?”

“are you scared?”

“no.” yes.

despite what lay ahead of them, itadori cracked a smile. “same as ever, eh?”

gojo forced the corners of his lips into a smirk. “you know it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

as soon as the remaining bits of professor nanami’s spell wore off, the fighting commenced. the huge stone knights began at the putrid giants that shook the ground as they walked, but, as expected, they didn’t hold for long.

there were hundreds of death eaters that immediately swarmed the entrance to the castle. gojo and the others had already gotten separated. he found himself looking for glimpses of them as he fought, power rushing through his veins as flashes of light shot through his vision.

one death eater after another fell to his wand. a goblin here. an enormous arachnid there. a shield spell shot itself from his wand to catch a pillar that threatened to fall on a young girl. gojo didn’t spare a second to marvel at how his wand seemed to act on its own.

itadori was nowhere to be found. nobara was matched against a witch he swore he had seen on the cover of a newspaper. she had been locked up in Azkaban for upwards of ten years.

a patronus he knew belonged to megumi weaved itself through the dust and dirt of the fight, closely followed by its darker counterpart. he made the mistake of watching the white wolf too closely in its decent over one of the towers and felt the breath get knocked from his chest as he flew backwards into a wall.

he coughed weakly into his hand, rubbing the blood that surfaced there onto his pants. the wall he flew into crumbled around him. he wasn’t sure who had landed a blow on him, but whoever it was had to be powerful.

only three people had ever managed to conquer such a thing, and two of them were currently fighting for hogwarts.

gojo petrified a lone death eater that had tried to sneak up on his left. he quickly ran over to the frozen body to lift the mask, though he knew it wasn’t who he was searching for.

“gojo, on the bridge!”

the yell had come from megumi, whom he saw battling three death eaters at once. after quickly disarming one them, gojo turned towards the bridge.

a flash of pink hair caught his attention. he watched as itadori seemingly chased after someone and raised his wand to cast his patronus to follow him. he stopped in his tracks when he saw a figure across the ravine.

it was him.

gojo’s hands shook with a ferocity no one had seen before. his wand illuminated the battlefield so bright many had to shield their eyes. the fighting ceased for only a moment as everyone turned to look at the being that stood in place of gojo satoru.

the short silence was broken when a death eater sent a curse flying towards nobara. a flick of gojo’s wrist was all it took for the death eater to fall in a heap on the ground, dead.

gojo’s entire being felt laced with ice. he knew he would see him. he knew. so why…

why did it hurt so badly?

screams and cries fell on deaf ears as gojo made his way across the crumbling bridge towards the forest. his hands trembled at his sides, legs weak as they carried the weight of this moment.

the figure had seen him and immediately dissipated into thick black smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~

the forbidden forest had never scared gojo. he actually found comfort in the deep hollows and twisted roots that overcame the dense woods. he spent a lot of time here throughout the years even though students weren’t allowed.

his feet led him along the familiar pathway he had taken numerous times before. a lone centaur raced towards the castle, not sparing gojo a second glance. he had long since become acquaintances with the creatures of the forest.

“gojo!”

“itadori? what in the- what are you doing out here? you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“i saw voldemort go into the forest so i-“

“well, what a sight.”

gojo’s eyes widened as he registered the voice that came from behind him. itadori looked over his shoulder in confusion; when he saw who the voice belonged to, his face morphed into a look of pure rage.

“itadori. this is my battle.”

“but-“

“you need to leave.”

“no, no i’m not just going to leave you here-“

“yuuji? wow, it’s been a while… you’ve grown.”

gojo turned to face the voice, visibly wincing as his eyes landed on his old best friend.

“satoru”

“suguru.”

getou had gotten taller since he last saw him. a scar ran across the length of his forehead and his hair had grown longer.

i always said his hair would look good long.

“i can feel the power radiating from you, satoru…it’s delicious. my lord will be quite pleased to meet you”

“your ‘lord’ can kiss my ass.”

getou chuckled, “no need to be vulgar”

gojo’s hand clenched around his wand. one spell and this could be over, but it would be irreversible. even though gojo knew getou wasn’t the same person he was a year ago, he still trembled at the thought of his old friend not being alive.

“gojo-“

“no, let him stay awhile satoru! it’ll be so much more fun”

itadori sneered at getou before pointing his wand towards him. gojo could see the slight shaking of his hand. he was terrified.

getou laughed, his arms opening wide as if welcoming the two into his home.

“so much more bite than when i last saw you, hm? the dark lord spoke highly of you…”

“stupefy!”

gojo’s head whipped around in a flash just in time to see itadori’s body fall to the forest floor. a man with long gray hair skipped towards them, giggling maniacally.

“ah mahito, just in time!” the man bowed in getou’s direction, inching closer to itadori’s paralyzed body. “master informed me that yuuji itadori had followed him here and sent me to fetch him…who is this handsome fellow, hm?”

gojo stood tall, senses on high alert. he was almost okay dealing with getou alone- but now there was an unknown wizard present. if voldemort sent him to do his biddings, then he must be strong…

“this is my old friend from hogwarts…satoru, meet mahito.”

“i’d rather not.”

mahito licked his lips in response to gojo’s remark, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. every aspect of this man screamed lunatic…and he was here for itadori.

a grunt escaped itadori from his position on the ground. gojo could see him trying to regulate his breathing, but it was obvious the younger boy was panicking.

“oh satoru, don’t be crass. the dark lord has been yearning to meet the young boy for a long while.”

“a long while? what the hell are you talking about?”

getou chuckled, brandishing his wand from the dark cloak that hung around his shoulders. gojo’s hand instinctively tightened around his wand as he watched his old friend walk towards itadori.

mahito tapped his fingers rhythmically against the handle of his own wand, seemingly awaiting orders. getou kneeled down closer to itadori’s face.

“yes, a long while.”

gojo still didn’t understand what that meant. itadori hadn’t met getou when he was at hogwarts, so how did his presence suddenly become voldemort’s pentacle of fascination?

“take him.”

“WAI-“

before gojo could even move to cast a spell, itadori’s scream was cut off as mahito apparated them both away.

“he’s just a boy!”

“maybe so…but a very powerful boy indeed.”

“his power doesn’t justify voldemort’s infatuation with him! i don’t understand why his involvement is needed-“

“they are tethered, satoru. remember?”

gojo’s body turned ice cold.

“…no, you…you…it was just-“

“just a suspicion, yes, that is what you told me, wasn’t it?”

no. no. it couldn’t be.

“the dark lord was very delighted with the information, so, i have you to thank, satoru. whatever may happen to the boy will be because of you.”

gojo’s mind went stark. he didn’t think, just moved with no purpose; he just let his rage pull his limbs into action like a puppet.

unspoken spells flew from both wands, the two wizards trapped in their last battle. the two were evenly matched. this didn’t surprise him.

after all, getou was one of the three people who had been able to land a jinx on him.

it was nonstop. gojo couldn’t stop himself if he tried. he was seething with anger not just towards getou, but towards himself. there was such a sinking feeling in the air, like they were dancing on cracking ice.

for an instant the two locked eyes. gojo felt his footing slightly tip, and that was all it took for getou to find an opening and send him flying backwards through the air. he landed hard on his back, wincing as a jolt of pain went through his head.

he knew he should get up. continue the fight. run and find itadori.

but he didn’t.

“you didn’t kill me.”

he didn’t see getou’s reaction to his comment. a patch of night sky that had broken through the clouds caught his attention.

for a moment he wished getou had killed him.

“get up.”

“i don’t want to.”

“satoru, get up and fight me.”

getou snarled and grabbed gojo by the collar of his jacket, pulling him up to meet his face.

“don’t you hate me?”

“…no.”

“why not! you…you should despise me! i betrayed everyone-including you!”

“i don’t.”

and it was the truth. gojo had spent hours in his dormitory stuffing his leaking eyes into his pillow, trying to be revolted by his best friend. he still had scars on his hands from punching the stone walls of the dungeons, trying to force his own physical pain into hatred.

it never worked.

“…i still don’t understand why you did it.”

that seemed to catch getou off guard. he slackened the grip he had on gojo’s collar, backing away with his head hung low.

“…he found my father.”

gojo’s eyes widened at the statement.

“i…i thought your father was-“

“dead? me too…” he paused for a moment, scoffing before continuing, “but he wasn’t. all that time we spent searching for letters, newspaper articles, headlines on the news- hell even muggle police reports- was for nothing.”

“so you went with him.”

“what other choice did i have, satoru?”

the atmosphere that had engulfed the two snapped.

what did he mean? ‘what other choice did he have’? gojo felt the anger from before start to trickle back into his veins.

“you could have stayed.”

getou met his eyes. they stood in unison, gaze never faltering.

“i had no reason to stay.”

“that’s bullshit and you know it, suguru.”

“what reason then? i was a horrid student, i didn’t care about grades, our so-called friends loathed me satoru! i had no family, no home to call my own i-“

“you had me, suguru!”

getou went silent. the only noises that could be heard were their heavy breaths and muffled yells from the castle. the wind sent a chill straight to gojo’s bones and he shivered, suddenly realizing there were tears trailing down his cheeks.

“i betrayed you satoru. without a second thought.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“i pushed you to investigate itadori’s powers. voldemort told me he would reveal my father’s whereabouts if i gave him information on the boy,”

“but-“

“i broke your trust! i didn’t even try to warn you of what i was planning, or that my father was alive-“

“suguru-“

“don’t you see!”

gojo stared at the look of pure exasperation and pain on getou’s face. he had a feeling it mirrored his own.

he watched as getou pulled the sleeve of his cloak above his forearm, placing the mark of the death eaters etched into his skin on display.

“this is what i am now, satoru.”

“and i’m just supposed to…what? hate you? was i supposed to hate you then? because i didn’t, and don’t.”

“that’s- that’s exactly what you should do! i would hate me-“

“well guess what suguru!” gojo was yelling by now, the words clawing their way from within his chest, “you don’t get to decide how your decisions make others feel!”

he ignored the fact he was moving steadily towards getou as he yelled. when he got close enough, gojo realized they both were shedding tears.

“i don’t understand why you care so much about me-“ gojo let out an unhumourous laugh, “what’s that supposed to mean, huh? you think i stayed up all those hours searching for your father out of what- obligation? pity?”

getou searched for an answer, stammering over the thoughts running through his head.

“i don’t understand why-“

“because i loved you!”

no more skirting around thin fractures, or waiting with baited breath to discover to truth. it was done.

and it broke him.

gojo had done well hiding his pain the past two years. the signature smirk was automatic-it appeared on his face without effort. conversation passed through his mouth without falter. he had trained himself to be the perfect student.

but this…this he couldn’t pretend to recover from.

“you…”

“it doesn’t matter now. what’s done is done.”

“were you ever going to tell me?”

“…i don’t know.”

when did his wand become so heavy? was his chest supposed to hurt this bad?

“oh god…satoru…”

he didn’t want to feel this way anymore. the sorrow was eating him alive, peeling back layers and layers of his soul.

he repressed the urge to comfort getou as he watched his past love fall to his knees.

“i’m so sorry, satoru.”

“sorry can’t fix everything, suguru,”

if only you had said it then…

“not now. not ever.”

please make this pain stop.

“…i know.”

“so let’s finish this.”

every fiber of his being was screaming at him to stop. a tiny voice yelled ‘you can help him!’. he forced the thoughts from his mind, they would only get in the way.

he had made his decision.

getou didn’t falter from his position on the ground. his wand stayed by his side. the only movement he made was to lift his head towards the night sky as gojo himself had done before.

i love you, suguru. forgive me.

“avadakdavra!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the walk back to the castle was torture. the weight of getou’s body was heavy in his arms. it was worse than he ever could have imagined.

the silence that had encompassed him the forest was shattered the moment he stepped foot onto school grounds. the battle was over, it seemed.

the carnage left behind was gut-wrenching.

gojo ignored the gazes of his peers as he wandered into the great hall. he knew this was where they had planned to house all of the wounded, and despite the hollow feeling in his gut, he needed to find his family.

“gojo!”

he turned to see who had called his name and felt relieved when he saw it was itadori. the relief was short-lived, however, when he noticed the sobs wracking the young boys’ body.

gojo retrieved a lone bedsheet and carefully placed getou’s body down, taking one last look at his past love’s face before he covered it. he left getou there and made his way over to where itadori was crouched over a figure lying on the floor. megumi and maki were both there too.

where was nobara?

“it happened right before you went after itadori…”

gojo’s gut wrenched when he saw who the figure was.

“i assume you saw getou…you didn’t even realize what had happened…” the memory of the battle flashed before his eyes.

“i killed that death eater. the woman. i- i could have sworn…no i know i killed her-“

“it was too late.”

“…gojo?”

he kneeled down and took one of nobara’s bloody hands in his own.

“yes, it’s me, i’m here now nobara.”

“you found getou…didn’t you?”

“…yes. i did.”

this wasn’t supposed to happen. gojo swore he had done everything to prepare them… butit wasn’t enough.

nobara wheezed as a chuckle tried to escape her body, the action causing her to cough uncontrollably as air tried to seep into her lungs.

“i can’t believe…out of all of us…that i’m the one dying…could have sworn it…would have been yuuji…ha!” itadori offered a small laugh, more tears escaping his eyes.

“wow, even on your deathbed you’re still fighting with me…”

gojo met the eyes of maki, who he could tell was choosing not to say anything. megumi refused to look at nobara’s face. instead he stared at the floor, silently crying, not bothering to wipe the tears away.

they’re so young.

gojo felt a sob lurch in his throat but he refused to let it free. he had to be strong. or, at least, act strong. it wasn’t time for his facade to break.

for their sake.

“you ok, nobara?”

“yea…i’m ok.”

gojo watched as she took her final breath.

“gojo…gojo she’s… she’s dead, gojo…”

he pulled itadori’s smaller body into his own, holding him there as the boy sobbed openly. megumi took ahold of maki’s hand, the latter turning her head into the boys’ shoulder as she let her own cries break free.

i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…

#jjk megumi #jjk fanfic #jjk #jjk itadori #satorugojo #jjk gojo #gojo sensei #gojo satoru #gojo angst #satosugu #satoru x suguru #sugurugeto #getou suguru #angst #harry potter #crossover #major character death #jujutsu nobara #maki zenin #maki jjk #maki jujutsu kaisen #nobara kugisaki

[erensonly]

Cuddle Buddies (Bakugou x Black! Reader)

[series masterlist], [previous chapter], [next chapter]

Chapter 12: Movie Night

WARNING: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THE DEMON SLAYER MOVIE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION ⚠️

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Walking out the classroom with Mina's arm wrapped around yours, you continue speaking about your favorite show.

"And then he was like 'I've been using you all this time.' Girl, I was shook-"

"Well, would you look at the failures of class A." Here goes this obsessed weirdo again. Every time you see Monoma, he's saying something about the class.

You and Mina continue to walk. You both are behind everyone else and Bakugou was pretty far ahead with Kirishima, Denki, and Sero.

"Just ignore him bro," you heard Kirishima say to Bakugou.

"What? Don't have anything to say?" He's really starting to get on your nerves but you keep it pushing. But he can't keep his mouth shut to save his life.

"And you Bakugou," he starts, putting emphasis on his name," You're the worst here. Your nasty attitude and boring quirk, I really don't know how you get into U.A." That's it.

Making your way to stand next to Bakugou, you can hear him yelling at Monoma. Something about him being a worthless extra.

"Bakugou, don't even worry about this idiot. He knows nothing."

"And you. You think you know everything, but you're weak. You wouldn't stand a chance against my class. Do you even understand what I'm saying?"

That was the last straw.

"Listen here you dirt neck, untalented, worthless, piece of shit. I don't know who you think you are, and I don't know who you think I am, but I will fuck you and you classmates up."

"If I hear you say something about my class, especially Bakugou, I will whoop you, your classmates, and your teachers' ass so bad they won't come back to school for the next few days. You got that, or do I have to show it to you?"

You felt somebody grab your arm. Not knowing or caring who it was, you shake them off and walk closer to Monoma, poking your finger to his chest.

"You got that bitch boy?"

"Y-yeah."

"That's what the hell I thought."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Walking away, you make your way to your dorm. You were irritated, offended, and angry. You close your door and just lay there on the bed, trying to calm down.

You just couldn't believe that somebody who talked so much stuff, was so weak. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him. And if any of his classmates had a problem, they can get the same treatment.

(really said hands are rated E for everyone 👩🏾‍💻)

You hear someone open the door. You know that it's Katsuki, but you don't really feel like talking, so you turn around and stay silent.

You feel him lay next to you and cuddle up behind you. "You good?" He sounded kinda concerned but not really. He knew that if you got like this that you would be fine within an hour or so.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You should've let me beat his ass." That's such a Bakugou thing to say.

"I would've did it first. He deserves it. And next time I see him and he even breathes wrong, I'm whopping his ass."

"Not if I do it first."

Turning over, you scoot closer to Bakugou, nuzzling your face in his chest. "Your tits are bigger than mine 'Tsuki."

Pushing your head away from him, he looks shocked and slightly embarrassed. "What the hell do you mean my tits are bigger than yours? I don't got 'Tits.'"

"Yeah you do. And they're soft and squishy. You gotta drop that work out routine babe."

"Fuck off." He rolled off the bed and started to open the door to leave. You knew he was joking but you still got up and jumped on his back. He stumbled but still caught you.

"Come on thickems. Let's go to the living room and see what everyone else is doing."

He smacked your leg and took off running down the hall to the stairs. "Hold on tight, kay?"

Humming in response, he starts to go down the stairs. Reaching the end of the stairs he runs to the couch, chucking you onto it.

Sitting upright, he sits on your lap, mimicking how you wrap your arms around his neck. Wrapping your arms around his slim waist, you copy how he nuzzles his head into you neck.

"Can I join?" you look down and see that weird pervert.

"Get the hell away from me before I kick your ass you shitty extra."

Raising your leg as much as you could, you kick mineta away from you. He landed near the coffee table.

"Can we join?" This time it was Midoriya and Kirishima.

"No-"

"Yes-" You both said at the same time.

"Why can't they cuddle with us? They can be our little children." You jokingly asked that just to rile him up a little bit.

"Because only I can cuddle you." He gripped you a little tighter.

"Fine. Then let me lay on your lap." He got off of you and lied your head on his lap. Kirishima and Midoriya jumped on the couch. Midoriya put his head on your legs and Kirishima put his head on Bakugou's other leg.

"Get the hell off of me- Get your big ass head of my girlfriend, Deku!" The three of you started to laugh. You all just stayed there and got comfy.

"Kacchan, let's watch a movie," you proposed.

"Let's all watch it with the rest of the class."

Everyone agreeing, you all went off to do your parts of the task. You grabbed snacks, Midoriya grabbed blankets, and Kirishima and Bakugou went to gather everyone in the living area.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Earlier this week everyone in the class had binged Demon Slayer together. Now, it was time to watch the movie.

When you returned to the living room everyone was already there getting into their spots to get comfortable. You, Midoriya and Kirishima got back in your spots snuggling each other.

"Everybody ready?" you asked. Everyone replied yes and you pressed play on the movie.

The movie started off good. A few laughs and chuckles here and there. Some excitement with the fighting scenes. At this point in time, you had gotten to the middle of the movie and nothing too intense had happened yet.

The movie introduced you to the one of main demons of the movie. The room was silent minus some crunching of snacks. Everyone was so enticed and focused on the movie that it was completely silent.

Now it was nearing the end of the movie. They had defeated the weird demon dude, but now Tanjiro was injured. And to their luck, there was now a new demon here.

You moved up a little on Katsuki's lap. You could already feel something bad about to happen. It was way too intense for it not to be something bad. You saw Rengoku fight this insanely strong demon, whilst telling Tanjiro and Inosuke to stay back. He would handle it.

Your heart rate went up a bit, something horrific was about to happen. "Kacchan, I'm worried for him."

"Me too. Don't worry about it too much."

Smoke was all you saw. You thought he had won, but no. He was extremely injured and it was not going well. The demon seemed okay. He was able to regenerate.

Then it happened.

(aye, i'm not finna say too much of you haven't seen it yet, but to tell you how it went. i finished the movie sobbing. literally)

The then silent room was now filled with sniffles and sobs. Why him? Why did they have to take him? You all had grown attached to the characters from the anime as well as this movie and now it was taken away.

The movie was over. Everyone still crying. And by everyone, I mean everyone. Katsuki was trying to hold in his tears and sobs, but it was not happening. By now Midoriya and Kirishima had moved next to each other to cry together.

You climbed on Bakugou's lap and buried your head in his neck, still crying. That's when he finally let go. You both just sat there crying with everyone else.

"Why him?"

"I don't know Katsu."

"They just can't make us get attached and then snatch it away."

" I know."

The wailing had died down and was reduced to sniffles and whispers to each other. Everyone was sad and heartbroken.

"Let's watch something else," Denki proposed. Everyone agreed and you turned on White Chicks. This was their first time seeing it so it was fun watching them laugh at it.

Somewhere in between the movie you must have fallen asleep because now you were in Bakugou's room with him cuddled up to you as well.

You started to regret falling asleep because now you definitely weren't going to be able to sleep for the rest of the night. You grabbed the manga that was on his nightstand and let the sleepless night take you in.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

and that is a wrap. I hope i didn't spoil too much for those who haven't watched it. but a warning, you will cry and if you don't you're a child a satan himself. y'all stay safe and i'll see you soon with another update🖤

#bnha #mha #mha fluff #mha bakugou #black reader #bakugou x black reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #kenmasblackwife

[paus-corner]

We can keep going

Cw/ smoking weed

Kojiro's flat in Italy was small but cozy and now it was full of smoke that came out of his best friend's lips. He wasn't bothered at all by the smell or the way that Kaoru was just slumped on his bed as he sat on the floor. Kojiro had been the one to get the weed from a classmate at culinary school, yet he hadn't tried it before. Not that he was a coward but he knew better than to get high alone for the first tine.

Cherry had totally agreed the second Kojiro brought it up, smoking something else than cigarettes had been on his mind since he had tried some time ago. He hadn't even coughed when he took the first drag of it. Then he kept a steady pace to smoke it until his body was relaxed and his head was fuzzy get totally conscious.

"Why don't you try?" He asked patting Kojiro's short hair, he hummed to himself at the softeness of it.

"Aight, pass it" Kojiro said after a deep breath. But when he reached to grab the blunt, it was pulled away from his reach. He frowned at Kaoru before complaining. "Hey, I was the one to get it, bitch, give me that shit"

Kaoru stared at him for a few seconds, Kojiro assumed he had zoned out. But he was just thinking throughly about his idea. "You'll suffocate yourself if you try it like that, jerk" He tried to keep up his usual grumpy self but the weed made him giggly. "I can shotgun it to you"

Kojiro stared at him in confusion, he wasn't sure what the meaning of the english word was. But if Cherry thought it woukd be easier than smoking it normally then he coukd try that instead. He nodded to show Kaoru that he agreed and the gold eyes sparkled a bit under the dim fairy lights that Nanjo owned.

"Come sit on my lap"

"What now?!" Kojiro's eyes widened at his friend, the fact that he look dead serious behind the cheeky grin was...Something that Kojiro didn't need to think about right there. "I'm too heavy for that" Back then he wasn't as muscular, but he had grown bigger than Cherry.

"That's stupid" Kaoru squinted his eyes, and it made Kojiro laugh. It was kind of cartoonish, maybe just childish, but it was defenitly something that he didn't see in Kaoru any other day. "If you don't sit there, I won't give you any."

Whether it was because he didn't want Sakurayashiki to be moody or if he just wanted to try the goods, Kojiro gave in and crawled on the bed. He hovered himself over Kaoru, each leg pressing to the sides of his friend's legs. This one frowned a bit at Nanjo's face, it was higher up as he was trying not to sit on top of the pink haired.

"Sit properly, dimwit" then he pulled Kojiro down until he was sitting on top of Kaoru's thighs. The green haired made a sound of discontent at the embarrassing position he was in, yet Kaoru seemed satisfied.

"Ugh, what do I do now?" Kojiro asked, now he wondered what was that way of smoking that Kaoru had in mind. Because the scenario was weird as fuck from his point of view. But, let's be honest, his heart was pounding for the boy under him and the way he had started tracing his knee with his thumb.

"Just open your mouth and breath in" Kaoru explained less giggly but way more relaxed than he was on a daily basis. Kojiro tilted his head to the side, it reminded Cherry to a cute puppy so he smiled. "I'll smoke some and blow it in your mouth"

Then he was already taking the blunt  to his lips, Kojiro looking at him a bit startled. But, what the hell, right? He was already parting his lips when Kaoru spoke again "Relax, Adam taught me"

And with that, Kojiro closed his mouth in a flat line, the smoke hitting his face. Had they been like this? Adam and Kaoru? Had they sat in the dark one over the other and shared smoke?

Now it was Kaoru who made a displeased sound. He looked down at Kojiro's lips that fell closed tightly. "You have to get closer" he pulled at Joe's hair, it wasn't tough but the tug pulled him down, close to Kaoru's face. "And you have to open your mouth" two fingers held Kojiro's chin, trying to part his lips again. But the tanned guy didn't budge, he just averted his eyes.

"I don't want, four eyes" Kojiro announced and he missed the way Cherry's mouth became a pout for a few second before he moved his hand.

"I can take my glasses off" said and done. Kojiro thought that Kaoru sas quite high to think that the comment meant that he had a problem with the pair of glasses.

"No, I just don't want to do something you did with Adam" Kojiro only be brave enough to say that because Kaoru would remember everything pretty distorted and he wouldn't pay much attention to those words.

"Hum..." Kaoru nodded and tugged at the green hair again, tangling his hand on it, scratching his scalp. "Then we can keep going...I wasn't on his lap, you know, and we weren't this close either" His tone was almost yelling 'Don't get jealous, Kojiro', and it only made the poor Nanjo blush, like this scene was something only meant for them.

"Fuck, okay, whatever" Kojiro looked back at Kaoru with red on his cheeks. He had expected a cocky smirk or something, but Kaoru was just smiling contently under him and it was goofy. Fuck, fuck, fuck; was all that Kojiro could mumble in his own head. "I just- Get close to your mouth and you blow..." he said like he was preparing himself, convincing himself that he'd do it without panicking.

"Yeah, idiot, I know already " then the hand on kojiro's hair went to his jaw to keep him from pulling away. Kaoru breathed the blunt (Kojiro night have imagined it, but it seemed more sensual that the other times) and then he tilted his head an inch away from Kojiro's before blowing on the other's open mouth. Their lips had been so close but  Kojiro didn't have to stop himself from kissing the other guy, matter of fact, he had been frozen in place savouring the moment rather than the smoke. But he was quick to breath ut in and out, coughing a bit after.

How high was he again?

"You okay, 'jiro?" the nickname was slurred and he sounded fond, the look on his face just accentuating it even more.

How high was he again?

#matcha blossom #matcha blossom headcanons #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo #cherry blossom sk8 #joe sk8 the infinity #idiots in love #pining

[ot7always]

Fractured (part 1)

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Word Count: 2.8k 

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (platonic); future Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, (future) smut

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of violence including murder (non-explicit). Mentions of sex (non-explicit). Mentions of drugs, guns, neglect, physical abuse, parental death. Toxic household, implicit mentions of mental illness (depression).

Rating: 18+

Summary: You’d always known something was strange and different about your “family,” but it wasn’t as though your environment encouraged curiosity from you. You thought you wanted to know all the answers, but nobody ever told you that the more you learned the more pieces of yourself you would leave behind.

A/N: This is my first story in this fandom, and I haven’t written anything for any fandom in years. This plot came to me all of a sudden last night and I decided I needed to write it. Please let me know what you think!

Masterlist

--

You used to be naive.

You were 11 when you first held a gun.

12 when you first made every shot through the centre of the target.

13 when you first noticed the fathers’ proud eyes rather than empty ones.

14 when you first defeated one of the boys in a spar.

15 when you first learned the details of why this was all necessary.

16 when the boys last saw you smile for real.

17 when you first participated in a mission, knuckles bloody for the first time.

18 when you first gave yourself to a man, only to later drug him and strangle him in his sleep.

They say ignorance is bliss, and you can’t help but to agree. Knowledge is not always power – you understand that better than anyone. Because the day you sought more knowledge was the last day you might have considered yourself truly happy.

--

“I said no. You’re not going anywhere.” The man looked at you, stone-faced in the doorway to his office. You had sought him out for permission to attend a classmate’s birthday party, but already regretted trying. It wasn’t as if you were ever allowed to go anywhere but school and back, escorted by the man’s driver.

Your neck had to crane upward to give him the pleading looks that often worked on his wife, but to no avail. With your head barely reaching the man’s waist, his cold stare had your six-year-old heart pounding, tears filling your eyes.

“But-“ you started, however it appeared there was no room for negotiation. The door was slammed in your face, door rattling in the frame. The noise was enough to make you jump, hands rising to wipe away the wetness that you could no longer hold back after being denied again.

Wanting to hide under your covers for the rest of the night lest you run into the man again, you turned around but instantly collided with another body. Gasping, your eyes immediately fell to the floor, hands falling to your sides.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered with as clear of a voice as you could manage, unwilling to invite the anger of another in the household, especially not the other adults. But the response was not one you expected.

“Y/N?” a soft voice questioned, reaching for your trembling hands. Your eyes rose to meet those of Namjoon’s, who only looked at you with more concern once he properly saw your state. His eyes swept over you quickly, assuring himself you weren’t hurt. He was only a few years older than you, but he worried for you greatly. “What happened?”

Hearing a kind voice after such an icy rejection only caused you to cry harder, stepping forward to wrap your arms around Namjoon’s waist, head buried in his chest. He accepted you without hesitation – it isn’t as though this is the first time this has happened. His hand rose to rub at your back, his warm touch calming you down some. But still, you did not offer an explanation. You knew the rules in this house, and it was your own fault for wanting more, after all. As you begun to pull away, still seeking the safety of your bed to avoid the rest of the world, Namjoon’s hands remained on your shoulders.

“Did my father say something to you again?” he questioned, sympathy in his gaze. You breaking eye contact was answer enough for him. And while he wished he could do something more for you, approaching his father about this would only invite him to unleash his anger on both of you.  

Instead, he grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with your own. When you peered at him inquisitively, he was glad to see that while your eyes were shiny and nose runny, you were no longer crying. Unwilling to let you mope for the rest of the day, he begun leading you away.

“I’ll make you some pasta, okay? I’m sure you haven’t eaten dinner yet,” he said, continuing the long trek from the upstairs rooms down to the kitchen.

While no, you hadn’t eaten, the last time you ate Namjoon’s pasta you ended up throwing up into the toilet hours later. But unwilling to reject his kindness, you allowed him to seat you at the dining table as he looked for ingredients in the fridge. You had planned to sit and watch him quietly, until you felt somebody collide with you from behind, arms wrapping around your neck.

“Y/N! We need one more person for Mario Party!” an excited voice yelled right by your ear, making you wince. After giving you the appropriate 0.3 seconds to formulate a proper response, hands begun shaking you at the shoulders hard enough to whip your head forward and back.

“Taehyungie…” you started, ready to deny him, unsure if you could handle the raucous of three young boys yelling at each other for stealing stars.

“Pleeeeeease! Please please please pleaseplease,” he begged, rocking your smaller body back and forth in the chair. His enthusiasm had you cracking your first smile since returning home from school.

“Y/N! We’re waiting for you!” a softer voice called from the living room. While you had been thinking about denying Taehyung, you never would’ve been able to deny Jimin. While mischievous, he had never been anything but kind to you growing up, leaving a huge soft spot in your heart for him.

Namjoon let out a small laugh from the stove, where he was stirring a pot that seemed to be letting out a suspicious amount of smoke for what he claimed to be pasta.

“You’d better join them or you’ll never hear the end of it,” he chuckled, giving you a wide grin when he saw you looking significantly happier than before. He was thankful that even if each of their parents might give you a hard time, at least you had seven brothers who only wanted to make you happy.

--

By the time you were ten years old, you had grown to accept that your life would not be like the lives of your classmates. You would not bake cookies at other girls’ houses, you would not join the after-school volleyball team, and you would not walk with friends to the ice cream shop down the street from school. That isn’t to say you hadn’t been invited. You had, years ago, but a child can only be told no so many times before they stop trying. After all, who wants to ask a question knowing the answer will always be rejection?

You were friendly with your classmates, but they knew you were some type of untouchable. You heard the whispers. She says she likes us, but why won’t she hang out? Why does the same car with tinted windows pick you up everyday? Why were you always alone on Parents’ Day?

While others had always wondered about your life, nobody dared to ask you. Whenever anyone mentioned family, the friendliness stopped. “It’s none of your business,” you would always answer, ending the conversation then and there. If your teachers ever tried to get information out of you, you would tell them not to worry. You always had an excuse for your parents not being there.

“They’re away on a trip.”

“My mother is ill.”

“They need to work during the day.”

The staff at school thought your parents were government officials, and you had likely been instructed not to talk about it. They were half right – your entire living memory you have been instructed not to talk about your family or your living situation no matter what.

It was easy to lie about why your parents weren’t there when your parents were dead. After all, who was there to refute your claims when the only family you had to speak of wasn’t even related to you by blood? The seven young boys – teenagers now, you supposed – had always been close to you, but you weren’t family.

No, you had been told that your parents were business associates of the seven families, but they had unfortunately died in an accident shortly after your birth. Unwilling to send their friends’ newborn to an orphanage, they instead took you in and allowed you to live with their families, where they raised you.

If raising you was the right term. In fact, many of the boys’ fathers ignored your existence. Namjoon’s father seemed to loathe you, though you didn’t think you did anything to cause such hate. However, you supposed that since he was not a kind man to his own son either, you could not complain. He was the head of the household, after all. You didn’t dare anger him, preferring to keep out of his way than to risk his booming voice and hard gaze.

It was not an ideal life. This much you understood, after seeing your classmates boast of their grades to their parents, happily shoving their report cards in their faces. When you see fathers raise their sons above their head, making obnoxious noises and pretending they’re an airplane, something deep inside you mourns something you’ve never had. You’ve never laughed at your father’s jokes, nor picked out an outfit with your mother.

It was not an ideal life, but at the very least you had the boys. They were perhaps the only people you could ever call a friend. They were loud and annoying, but also the only people who made you feel that you had a home.

--

By the time you were eleven, you had become curious. After all, every television show you’ve seen only had one family in one house, sometimes two. Seven was unheard of as far as you knew, and your adolescent brain with a newfound passion for science and mystery novels needed to know why this was. Of course, nobody could know about his goal of yours. This was top secret.

It started with casual eavesdropping. Before, you had tried to avoid the men in the house at all costs. Their serious looks scared you, and though the majority never specifically targeted you with their anger, you dared not risk it. However, you knew the men of the house frequently gathered behind closed doors, sometimes their wives too. It almost seemed like a business meeting, based on the dramas you’ve seen Seokjin watching in his spare time.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak around in the house, considering your presence was ignored by most. Even the maids didn’t look twice at your antics, knowing how teenagers always seemed to play weird games.

It was difficult to listen well, and you didn’t want to risk getting caught. You’ve only heard snippets of conversation, but it was enough to raise suspicion. The words you’ve been able to catch recently – “mission,” “warehouse,” “armed,” had you furrowing your brows, but what confused you most was “Bangtan,” or what you thought was Bangtan. You didn’t know what that meant. But what surprised you most was how often the others boys’ names seemed to come up, particularly Seokjin and Yoongi, the two eldest.

Your sleuthing continued through the weeks, but the words were hard to hear and you didn’t gain much from it. In fact, you considered giving up and trying to figure things out based on what you already had, but you figured one more try couldn’t hurt.

Perhaps you should have stayed in your room. Not that you knew now whether that could have helped you or not.

On one Wednesday after school, you returned home quicker than normal, traffic having been light for some reason. You figured you may as well use the opportunity to listen to any conversations that might be going on. After all, you made it home earlier than expected, so perhaps nobody would think you to be there to hear anything at all. Not that anyone paid attention to your schedule at all.

So there you sat – squatted, more accurately – outside Namjoon’s father’s office. You heard two muffled voices inside, but could not place who the other belonged to. What you did not expect, however, was to hear your own name coming from their lips.

“We’ve waited long enough. Y/N is useless right now, a liability more than anything,” a gruff voice said. The domineering tone itself told you it was Namjoon’s father, even if you couldn’t see anything at all.

“She’s still young-”

“And your son was years younger than her when he learned of everything. Stop babying her.”

Hearing a conversation centered around you was definitely not the norm. You leaned closer, hoping to hear better, but that was your downfall. Your shoulder brushed against the door – barely a touch at all, but enough to shake the door, and clearly noticeable to the men inside. Before you could even think to stand up, the door swung open, your eyes meeting those of Taehyung’s father like a deer in the headlights.

You felt as though your chest was going to explode, bracing yourself for the worst berating of your life. Would they kick you out? Would they hit you?

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice trembled along with the rest of you, “I thought I heard my name and I was curious, I promise I didn’t mean to,” you let out all in one breath, flinching and preparing yourself for the yelling, the fists, for anything.

What you didn’t expect was laughter. Namjoon’s father’s laughter, to be exact.

“The choice has been made for us,” he declared, directed toward Taehyung’s father.

“Sit.” he instructed you harshly, gesturing toward a chair across from his desk. There was just enough distance between you and him to feel that you were miles away. It made the man seem even more powerful than before.

“Do you remember what we told you about your parents?” he said as he fixed his stare on your wide eyes, more a demand than a question. You nodded, afraid a verbal answer would only get caught in your throat.

“Then you know we were in the same business,” he continued. You nodded again. This is the nicest he’s ever been speaking to you, and that had you relaxing some.

“You see, the boys here are all involved in this business as well. That is their responsibility to their family. Their duty. And it is time for you to fulfill your duty as well. This is what your parents would have wanted, and it is what we need from you in return for sheltering you all these years,” he went on, taking in your expression. The confusion and wariness must have been apparent on your face, because he kept on without waiting for a reply.

“You will train. After school for four hours everyday. You will become part of this business. The boys will help you,” he stated firmly, and you clearly knew these were not requests. These were commands, and you had no place to deny them, despite the questions you wanted to ask. You turned your head to look at Taehyung’s father, who had been one of the only people in the house who treated you as human. He nodded at you reassuringly, hiding his own hesitation well.

“Yes, sir,” you managed to get out, the first words you’d spoken since you entered the room. Even those were a struggle considering your shock.

“Good. You start tomorrow. Now leave.”

And train you did.

--

You were 11 when you first held a gun.

12 when you first made every shot through the centre of the target.

13 when you first noticed the fathers’ proud eyes rather than empty ones.

14 when you first defeated one of the boys in a spar.

15 when you first learned the details of why this was all necessary.

16 when the boys last saw you smile for real.

17 when you first participated in a mission, knuckles bloody for the first time.

18 when you first gave yourself to a man, only to later drug him and strangle him in his sleep. That was the first night you’d made yourself vulnerable in years, sobbing into Hoseok’s arms lamenting what you had done.

19 when you finally seemed to earn the respect of Namjoon’s father.

19 when you finally seemed to realize you would never be happy, never hold a real job, never get a real education.

You were no longer just part of the house, invisible to the powerful men and their wives who lived there. You had skill, talent.

No, you were no longer just a thing. You were a weapon, an asset. A tool to be used.

But a tool can only be used for so long before its shine fades.

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#bts fanfic #bts series #bts x reader #bts mafia au #ot7 x reader #yoongi x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fic

[the-crows-typist]

Hi Lemilia! Could I ask for a platonic ficlet with Rook and Trey + the word “frustration”? The science club needs more love, their dynamic is so good~ Thank you!

The Possibilities Are Endless

“Augh!”

“Trey, are you alright?” The smoke from the cauldron was nauseating and stung the throat and eyes. Rook quickly kills the fire with water magic and places the lid on to the still boiling pot of messed up brew.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked, taking his classmate’s stirring stick from him while Trey took his glasses off. “No, I’m not. It’s just—stings a bit, hang on.” Rook knew that tone of voice, the way his shoulders squared, and how Trey’s teeth were bared and grit. He was a patient man, yes he was, but even he was not immune to the feeling of frustration. Even he got angry at the tiniest of things and the smallest of failures.

As beautiful as one’s expressive face is, it was still quite disheartening to see one of the most patient third years look so angry, so defeated. “Professor Crewel did say that this brew was not easy to get right off the bat,” He patted his companion’s back. “Why don’t we try again? Maybe things will be different this time.”

Trey looked up at Rook who smiled down at him. Without his glasses, Trey looked more serious, more mature. He looked like someone who could kill a man with a single stare but all that changed when he slipped his protective goggles back on and now he was kind and hardworking vice dorm leader of Heartslabyul.

“How do you do it?”

“What do you mean?” The hunter’s expression was confused, curious even. Even behind those purple goggles of his, Trey could see that he was genuine, he was honest…Maybe too honest. Rook always does things with the best interest of others in mind and there was no doubt that his actions were as genuine as they come and yet, there was this dense cloudiness not even Trey himself could see past and while people had their secrets, had their own skeletons in the closet, Rook’s secrecy was one so heavily guarded yet so obviously in plain sight.

He was an open book yet you couldn’t read the contents of it even if you tried.

Just how could someone so secretive be so open to the world and the people around him?

“…How do you not get angry?”

Rook’s smile was always so cryptic, always so foreshadowing.

Trey didn’t know when he started getting more observant to the things around him, he hypothesized that it was because he was around Rook more often or he was slowly getting used to having to deal with his two juniors and their friends causing trouble wherever they went that he had developed a sort of sixth sense.

“Clover, deliver the powder fertilizer to the plants at the back, they haven’t been taken care of as of late.” Crewel said, handing him a bucket full of white powder. “After that, you can close up the botanical garden for the day. The keys are by the desk and don’t forget to roll up the hose before you leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’ll be on my way then.”

Carrying the bucket towards the back garden, Trey began to see and appreciate the little flowers that grew and spread through the trees. He always liked walking through this part of the garden since a lot of flowers grew around the path.

“Hm?”

An orange lily bloomed not too far from his foot and beyond were scattered clumps that stood out with its bright orange hue against soft pastels of grass and other blossoms. A sudden pang of worry washed over Trey and he hesitated to continue his walk but knowing well that Crewel would be upset, he pushed forward. The lilies grew in number until he reaches the foot of the garden now littered with orange blossoms. For some reason, the garden felt off despite being empty.

Breathing in deep, Trey moved to scatter the powder fertilizer onto the plants and over the petunias growing awkwardly against the white painted fence. Kneeling down, Trey took a closer look at the blossoms, his gloved fingers smooth against the wood until he felt a small pit under his finger. Blinking, he carefully pushed the stems and leaves aside; the wood looked damaged as if someone purposefully thrust something into it. Trey’s brow furrowed in worry and pulled his hand away to see the many identical marks made on the wood.

“What is this?”

The school’s cafeteria during the end of the week was louder than usual, clubs were raring to do their activities and the teachers could get a break after a long weeks’ worth of work. Even in the noise, Trey couldn’t hear it for he deep in thought. To his knowledge, no one had planted any orange Lilies and Petunia in that area of the garden. In fact, he had no prior knowledge of anyone possessing seeds for those plants.

Could it have been a project by one of the younger years? No, there would be an indication of it; plus Crewel would tell him or at least say something about it in passing.

Another club? That would be a no as well. Jade didn’t seem very interested in flowers nor did any club, to his knowledge, need the botanical gardens except the science club.

“Trey, what’s the matter? You haven’t touched your lunch at all.”

Riddle’s eyes bore down on him and he knew better than to hide anything from the red headed dorm leader. “I’m just confused, is all.” He said, poking at his now cold steak. “Yesterday I was told to find a garden to put some fertilizer in but on my way there I saw some Orange Lily and Petunia flowers, I don’t know why but it made me uneasy.”

A hum and Riddle looked down at his half-eaten food. “Lily and Petunia, huh?’ Another hum and Riddle tapped the tip of his plate his pointer finger. “This might be a stretch but do you know the concept of flower language?”

“Flower language?”

“Yes, if I remember my sources correctly, certain flowers held meaning and messages when put into a bouquet. Because of its subtlety, it was a perfect way for people to send secret messages or feelings around. It’s a romantic way of communicating but often extremely vague if the receiver had no prior knowledge.”

Trey took a bite out of his steak with a nod. Flower language, huh? He’s heard of it before but he wasn’t a big expert. “Do you know anyone who happens to have a list?” He felt a slight disappointment when Riddle shook his head. “Not that I know of, no. The book that I saw it in only listed a few examples but I didn’t see Orange Lily or Petunia in them.”

“That’s unfortunate, but thanks for your help Riddle.”

When he came back to the garden the next day, the number of flowers had grown and soon did the marks on the white fence. Trey passed his fingers over the pits and noticed that they were deeper, messier as if someone had been doing it without thought. The feeling of unease continued to double the longer her stayed there but her urged himself to stay and spray the powder over growing Lavender flowers.

Somehow, seeing the light purple petals beginning to form brought him an ounce of comfort and it was what kept him from running away from the area with his tail between his legs. After finishing his task, he exited the garden to meet up with his professor.

“How are the neglected plants coming along, Trey?” Crewel asked, sitting on a chair while Rook watered the fruit bearing plants next to him. “Petals are beginning to form slowly and surely but…” He hesitated to speak for a moment and sighed. “…I did notice a few blossoms growing alongside it but it didn’t seem to impede on its growth.”

“What do you mean? Was someone using the plot before us?”

Rook moved to the further side of the garden to water what was to be a lemon tree before Trey spoke again. “I’m not quite sure, sir. They were already there when you told me to put fertilizer over the plants.” Crewel brought his crop to his lips in thought, brows creasing as he mulled over the possibilities. “And what flowers did you see growing around the area.”

“Mostly Petunias and Lilies, the orange colored one.”

“Hm. Someone must have been angry.”

“Sir?” Trey’s voice came out confused and Crewel only shook his head. “It’s just flower language, down boy. It’s not a well-known practice nowadays but before, flowers held meaning. If a mage grew a red rose from the ground then they were in love, it’s as simple as that.” A knowing smile crept onto his lips, thinking of a certain someone he had in mind; one he had spent enough time with to know that a single rose was all he needed to show his feelings.

“But those flowers of yours, Orange Lily and Petunia…Those flowers are of the few that have negative meanings.” Rook pulls at the hose and the roller squeaks as he moved further and further away from him. “While not inherently threatening or mean spirited, those two flowers could mean many things from anger, annoyance, maybe even frustration.”

He dare not mention the stab-like pits he saw on the fence behind it.

“If it isn’t impeding on the growth of the neglected plants like you say then it is only right to let the blossoms stay as they are. As odd as it may be, different people have different ways of venting out their frustrations. As long it’s not harming other people then there is no need to worry.”

The roller squeaks again, Rook moving to water the last plants inside the section of the garden.

The day came to an end and Crewel left the two to clean up. “I’m meeting with a former colleague of mine so I need to look my best. I’ll leave to you the cleaning up?” Trey nods his head and the two part ways but not without the boy smelling what seems to be a type of perfume, it smelled nice…Was the professor seeing someone?

“Rook?” Trey yelled out to the empty room yet no one answered back. “Darn, did I get deserted to clean this on my own?” He wondered to himself as he gathered the gardening tools and rolled up the hose. Taking the bucket full of powder fertilizer, Trey made his way to the same garden he was assigned to.

The same unsettling feeling overcame him as he walked the quiet path but with the words of Crewel echoing in his head, the feeling ebbed away quickly. The flowers growing in and around the area were products of someone’s negativity, his frustrations and while Trey understood it, he didn’t have an answer to who exactly was producing this.

But the answer would soon come to him when an odd sound came from the garden before him. A grunt followed by two items hitting each other hard. Trey walked slowly towards the source and seeing Rook over standing over the fence with sharper the usual arrow in hand. His shoulders were heaving before plunging his weapon into the wooden fence hard.

Somehow, all the things Trey had been pondering were coming together.

“So this is your way of getting angry.” Trey commented and Rook turning his head slowly towards him. He smiled at his fellow batch mate. “Hey, no need to give me that look. I won’t tell anyone what you did here…In fact, I find the theme of flowers to be very fitting…You know. Your flowery language and all.” Rook stared at him for a long while until he snorted, bringing his hand to his lips to stop his laugh from coming out too loud.

“Great seven above that was a terrible pun!” Rook said between laughs and Trey could only let out a small laugh himself. “I try my best.”

Sniffling, Rook looked back at the marks he’d made then to his arrow. “I’m sorry you had to see this. I don’t quite like it when I’m angry...I have been told that I become terrifying and almost beast like.” Trey comes closer and pats his back. “I’ve been trying to find better ways to control it better but…This is the best I can do now.”

A petunia began to grow form within the pits on the fence and despite the negative message, Trey found it beautiful. “Did you make these flowers?”

“I suppose. Even I am confused as to why these grew here.” The hunter picked a petunia from the fence and brought it to his nose. “But then again, the arrangement is quite beautiful don’t you think?” Trey pat his back again. “I’m no expert on flowers but it goes real well with the Lavender we’re trying to grow.”

“I’m sure we can find another way for you to vent out your frustrations but in the meantime, you can clean up.” Rook was given the bucket and Trey gave him a big smile before running off. “Trey, come back here!” He said between laughs as he clearly let his batch mate run ahead of him. “You still have to help me too!”

In the middle of the plot, a Lavender flower bloomed against the petunias its rich purple color accented by the bright orange and pink.

#works from the typewriter #disney twisted wonderland #twst #trey clover #rook hunt #platonic requests #divus crewel #riddle rosehearts

[here4theheartbreak]

Firelit First (TaeKook)

AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: taekook (Taehyung x Jungkook)

✩Genre: angst, smut, hybrid au

✩Rating: Explicit

✩Tags: smut, hybrid au, dragon-dog hybrid Taehyung, bunny hybrid Jungkook, first time, established relationship, bottom Jungkook, mating, licking, knotting, Bad Dragon, insecure Taehyung, fire breathing

✩Summary: They said a bunny and a dragon-dog would never work out. They were wrong in every way except for one. Jungkook’s need for physical intimacy - and Taehyung’s insecurity surrounding it - was driving a wedge between them.

✩Word Count: ~6.5k

✩A/N: Written for @btsholidaybingo​ - Square: Bonfire

What do a helicopter eared bunny rabbit and a dragon-Newfoundland fusion have in common?

According to Jin, the world’s sassiest hyena – nothing… Save for the fact that they both have crappy taste in boys. 

But Taehyung, the dragon-Newfoundland in question, believed that was wrong. His bunny boy, of course, did have a bad taste in men. He was dating him for God’s sake. But Jungkook was perfect. The two had grown up together, attending a prestigious hybrid boarding school in Seoul, along with Jin and Hoseok, and the rest of their little gang. As young children, the were separated by diet – the squirrels and chipmunks and bunnies and other pretty prey hybrids in one class; and the wolves, dogs, hyenas, tigers and yes – dragon, in the other. They were allowed to play together during recess, sternly supervised lest a wolf decide biting one of their gentle classmates was a better plan than playing tag. It was during these recesses that the group met, and stayed strong throughout the grades. As they aged and became more in control of their less human urges, the classes combined, and their friendship grew even deeper.

Not that Jungkook’s parents were very happy. The first time he brought home a damned dragon playmate for a weekend trip back home they nearly called the police. Dragons were rare hybrids, only a few families existing worldwide. And Taehyung – a dragon crossed with a dog – was a medical miracle. Fusions were one in a million, especially fusions of such a different species type.

Yet there he was, all arms and black hair and wings, even folded up tightly, too big for his gawky body. His tail was long and thick, covered in shaggy black fur, always wagging. Across the bridge of his nose and streaking down his arms was a smattering of sparkling emerald green scales. His eyes were a striking, unnatural gold color and – when he got extra excited, angry, or otherwise, puffs of hot smoke would bubble up from his lungs. Though the rumor was he could easily burn down a town with one breath, actual fire was far harder for Taehyung to form; the limitations of his human and dog DNA interfering with the dragon inside him.

Despite the worries that Taehyung would injure Jungkook in some way, their friendship blossomed, and formed something far more intimate by the time they reached high school. As other hybrids paired off and found boyfriends and girlfriends of similar species, or of humans, their group of misfits remained mostly together. Jin was found making out with the shy, soft-spoken squirrel, Hoseok. Their broody, panther Yoongi, took the fiery, hyper fox Jimin to their first prom, and intelligent, and quick bat Namjoon ended up with the feisty meerkat Halsey. It was only natural that soft, gentle bunny Jungkook with ears too long and body too big for his prey DNA would end up with the dragon-dog.

 They stayed together throughout high school, college, and moved in together as soon as they both graduated. Everyone knew someday they probably would consider marriage, though both of them thought the idea of it was somewhat outdated and unnecessary. And now, as young men in their twenties – they could not be happier.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Taehyung had finished his week’s work early. He decided it would be great to go home and surprise Jungkook, who had the day off. Maybe they could go down south for the weekend to visit Jungkook’s parents. It had been a while since he had a full weekend to himself. 

As he rounded the corner to head to their bedroom, he heard a deep, low moan. Taehyung hesitated. That… Sounded like Jungkook. Panic clenched his chest. Surely Jungkook wouldn’t do that. They’d been together for too long, and there’d never been a hint of an affair. Taehyung knew he was lacking in bed… But he worked hard to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. Not easy, given his boyfriend had the sex drive of the animal side of himself, but Taehyung did his best. An affair wouldn’t be unexpected, Taehyung supposed as he crept closer to their shut bedroom. He could hear Jungkook panting even through the closed door, punctuated by soft moans and the creak of their bed. Taehyung’s heart sank. Who was it going to be? One of their friends? A stranger? Another rabbit? Another gentle, soft prey animal hybrid? Scenario after scenario raced through his mind as he reached for the doorknob. He could just wait, he supposed. Sit in the living room, let the guy leave. But he needed to see with his own two eyes.

He grabbed the door and opened it slowly, trying not to make it squeak. Another creep forward and he peeked his head into the room. 

Jungkook was on his hands and knees on the bed, nude. His tan skin was glistening with sweat. His head was hung, one ear folded back comfortably, the other – which had been damaged when he was younger and always stood a little crooked, was hanging down more like a lop ear. Even from the doorway Taehyung could see his mouth hanging open, nose – dusted with a fine, silky fur and dotted with little white spots, twitching with excitement. But behind him, where his white nubbin tail stood high as it could go, was not a human, or hybrid, or anything living. Rather, it was a dildo, attached to the wall by suction. 

When he went forward, exposing more of the toy, Taehyung could see that it was thick and bulbous, with what looked like scaled ridges along the base. The color faded from purple to green to a blackish near the tip, with a glittery silver that seemed to sparkle in the lights. Jungkook was thoroughly enjoying himself, his cock twitching and leaking between his legs, moans and whimpers slipping from his mouth as he fucked himself onto it. It wasn’t human, that was for sure. 

“Jungkook.” Taehyung spoke firm and clear.

Jungkook yelped, pulling off the large toy. He scrambled to cover himself with a sheet, as if the dildo on the wall didn’t give away what he was doing. When he was totally off it, Taehyung was able to see the severe curve and the ridges more clearly, as well as the pointed tip and the base, which was covered with scales. It was reptilian, for sure. It looked, much to Taehyung’s disgust, like a horrible rendition of a dragon. 

“Taehyung! You’re home early,” Jungkook stuttered. 

Taehyung entered the room. Jungkook reached for the toy but Taehyung was faster, swiping it and yanking it from the wall. He held it in his hand, gauging the thickness. His wings gave an annoyed flap, ruffling Jungkook’s hair and a few papers on the desk. 

“What is this?”

“It’s a dildo, Tae.” Jungkook pouted. “I’m a grown up, I’m allowed to own a dildo.”

“Is this a dragon?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. “So what if it is?”

“You’re dating a dragon. Do you realize how offensive this is?”

Jungkook crossed his arms, his ears flattening down in annoyance. “A dragon that won’t give me his dick no matter how much I beg. Least I can do is feel it through a toy.”

Taehyung blinked in surprise. His shoulders sagged a little. “Jungkook…”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jungkook rose and grabbed the toy from Taehyung’s hands. He brushed past him, pulling on his shorts. 

“Where are you going?” Taehyung called, chasing after Jungkook as he walked out of the room. 

He went into the bathroom, washing the toy gently. He met Taehyung’s glare in the mirror. “What?”

“It barely looks like me,” he mumbled.

“Not that I would know. You do everything you can not to show me your dick.”

“I make you come other ways.”

“So?” Jungkook turned, splashing water as he did. “You think that’s the same? We’ve been dating forever, Tae. How do you think it makes me feel when you refuse to fuck me? All of our friends lost their virginity years ago. Making me come with your fingers or mouth or our toys isn’t nearly the same. And, you never let me pleasure you. You always go hide out in the bathroom and jerk off. Are you really so disgusted by me? Is it because I’m a bunny? Am I not good enough to turn you on?” As Jungkook ranted his anger shifted to something desperate His eyes, big and doe-ish on a good day, were even larger, wet with unshed tears of frustration. 

“Jungkook, no,” Taehyung said, closing the gap between them to try and hug his lover. Jungkook pushed him back, turning back to the sink. He began to scrub the toy again with a renewed vigor. 

“I don’t think you’re disgusting, Jungkook. I—” Taehyung saw Jungkook’s shoulders shake, his ears hanging down dejectedly.

“Don’t cry, bunny boy,” Taehyung pleaded. He wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He kissed and licked gently at the soft skin there, whimpering. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Why won’t you take me to bed?” Jungkook whispered. “I try not to let it bother me, but I—You know what I am. You know how I am.”

“I know. I thought I was doing a good job satisfying you. I’m sorry, Jungkookie. I’ll try harder.”

“No!” Jungkook jerked away, shoving Taehyung back. “Get off me. I don’t want you to try harder. I don’t want you to finger fuck me or suck my dick.”

Taehyung’s entire body sagged, his tail and the ends of his wings brushing the cool linoleum. “What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me!” Jungkook cried, whipping around. “I want to feel that connection with you. I want to know I don’t disgust you. It’s been a decade. Why won’t you tell me the truth? What are you so afraid of?”

“Hurting you,” Taehyung said, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m scared of hurting you.”

“I’m not some tiny breakable baby,” Jungkook said, his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. His ears were flattened to his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sick that you even think that. You know that predator-prey shit is bullshit!”

“It’s not because of that, Jungkook. Don’t you dare accuse me of that.”

“Then what is it?!”

“I have a knot!” Taehyung shouted, finally losing his temper. “All these years I hid it from you because my cock is deformed. It’s hideous and it’s scary and nobody would want that. I’m a monster, Jungkook. Your parents said it enough while we were growing up and it’s the truth. You wouldn’t want to fuck me if you saw my cock and I wouldn’t blame you for packing up and leaving.”

Jungkook’s expression softened, his shoulders and fists relaxing. “A lot of hybrids have knots, Taehyung. Why would you be so scared of that? You’re half dog. It makes sense.”

“Because it’s a dragon’s cock. But it has a knot at the base. It’s horrible. And it’s…” He drifted off. It’s big. And even bigger with the stupid knot. And I can’t prevent it from happening. Every time I come it… Just … Pops and I—” He shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself. His wings fluttered, folding in front of him like a leathery cloak. “I know you’re not a tiny baby, but I’m afraid it’ll hurt you,” he finished.

Jungkook pouted a little, tilting his head. His one floppy ear tilted further, hanging down. His nose twitched in thought. He reached back, grabbing the dragon toy in the sink. He held it out to Taehyung.

“Is it bigger than this?”

Taehyung nodded. 

“By how much? Without the knot.”

Taehyung reached out and looped his forefinger and thumb around the biggest part. He added another few centimeters.

“And with?” Jungkook pressed. 

Another hand slipped out of his wing cocoon, first fingers together and thumbs together, around the size of a softball.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Taehyung folded back in on himself, his cheeks mottled red with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry. I—I think I’ll go stay at Jin’s tonight. Give you a chance to… Decide.” 

Jungkook frowned further. “Decide?”

“If you’re gonna leave me. And pack up, when you do…” Taehyung felt tears burning his nose and whimpered softly. He huffed and shook a little, folding his wings back and holding his head high. “I’m sorry I strung you on this long. It wasn’t fair of me to assume you’d be okay with what I couldn’t do.” He tried to smile, but knew it likely fell flat.

Jungkook’s face drooped further. “Are you dumping me?”

Taehyung looked down. He knew it would be for the best. Just end it, stop stringing him along, promising something he’d never be able to offer. “I just want you to be happy. And satisfied. And I can’t –” He looked at the dildo in Jungkook’s hand. “I can’t do that for you.” He smiled weakly and shrugged. “Your parents were right after all.”

Jungkook’s head tilted in confusion. 

Taehyung shrugged. “I’d never be able to give you a happy life. I’m just dog.” He turned to go, brushing past Jungkook. He considered heading to the bedroom, grabbing a few things, but decided against it. Best just to leave. He was so humiliated and ashamed. He should have come clean with Jungkook early on in their relationship, he knew it. He felt horrible for lying the way he had.

Jungkook bounded out of the bathroom, skidding to a stop in front of Taehyung. He shoved him back. “You don’t get to break up with me.”

Taehyung blinked lamely. “I—”

“Shut up.” 

Taehyung closed his mouth. 

Jungkook smiled a little. “You really are noisy. I thought big dogs were supposed to be quiet.” 

Taehyung huffed, twin puffs of smoke coming from his nostrils. It was a common joke between them – his hyperactivity was nothing like the large, laid back Newfoundland that made up a part of his DNA. 

Jungkook smile grew, his nose crinkling. “Since you wanna be noisy though…” He sank to his knees, his hands going to Taehyung’s belt. He managed to unhook it and begin working Taehyung’s zipper down before Taehyung realized what was happening. He yelped and jumped back, his wings spreading fast enough to knock over a pile of books on the nearby shelf. He flapped them once, and Jungkook giggle, shaking his head. “Come back here. I’m gonna suck your dick.”

“Jungkook!” Taehyung cried, surprised at the brazenness of his boyfriend. Undeterred, Jungkook crawled forward, nuzzling against Taehyung’s crotch. 

“I want it, Tae.” He looked up at him, his mouth pressed against the bulge of Taehyung’s cock. “I want you to take me. Tonight. I wanna feel you inside of me.”

When Taehyung didn’t respond, Jungkook sighed. He rose and grabbed Taehyung’s hands. “I get why you hid it. I’m not mad. I’m sad that you felt you had to, that you were scared of what I’d do… I get it.”

Taehyung lowered his gaze. 

“But,” Jungkook pressed. “That doesn’t mean you get to go back into hiding. You told me what it is you’re scared of, and I didn’t go running for the hills. And I’m not going to. I love you, you big dumb dog. And I still want you. Both as my boyfriend… And as the man who takes my virginity.”

“Jungkook—”

“It won’t hurt me. I might have bunny DNA but I’m not some tiny little thing that’ll tear in two. I know I can take it. Didn’t you see me taking Kelvin?”

Taehyung spluttered. “It has a name?”

Jungkook giggled and nodded. “It does… But I’d rather be taking Taehyung.” He cupped Taehyung through his jeans. “Please trust that I know my body. That I won’t break.”

Taehyung bared his teeth, another puff of smoke breaking over Jungkook’s face. 

Jungkook giggled. “I can feel you getting worked up.”

“You’re grabbing my dick, of course I’m getting worked up.”

“Then will you do it? I don’t mean to push you. But … Is the knot and the size the only thing keeping you from taking me?”

Taehyung nodded. “I’ve wanted for so long to make love to you,” he admitted.

“Then if those weren’t an issue…”

Taehyung nodded, his eyes slipping shut. Jungkook was on the nose – if it weren’t for his anxiety surrounding his dick, he would have made love to Jungkook years ago.

“So say they’re not. If they end up being an issue, fine, we can deal with it. Better to have tried and failed than not have tried at all, right?”

“You shouldn’t be so wise with your hand on a cock,” Taehyung mumbled with no venom. Jungkook laughed. 

“So is that a yes? You’ll try with me?”

Taehyung hesitated. He opened his eyes searching Jungkook’s bright, perfect face. He reached up, stroking over his ears. “Yeah, it’s a yes.”

Jungkook’s grin widened. He sank back to his knees, but Taehyung grabbed him, hauling him back up. “But not right now.”

Jungkook’s pout was so adorable Taehyung nearly gave in. He shook his head though, thumbing Jungkook’s velvety soft nose. “Tonight. If you’re going to have sex with a dragon we’re going to do it right.”

“There’s a right way?”

Taehyung nodded. “A way all the men in my family took their lovers for the first time. It’s tradition.”

Jungkook grinned and nodded. “Of course. When?”

Taehyung glanced at his watch. “It’s three now. Why don’t you go take a shower. I’ll go out, get a few things. And then be back home by five to pick you up for dinner and then… After…”

Jungkook nodded eagerly. He backed up, heading to the bathroom, but Taehyung grabbed his wrist. 

“No using that horrible Kelvin. No jerking off before tonight, okay?”

“I promise,” Jungkook said.

“And… Prep yourself a little, in the shower.”

Jungkook nodded again. He approached Taehyung folding himself into his arms and kissing over a spot of scales on the curve of his neck. “I’m so excited for tonight.”

“Me too,” Taehyung whispered. And he was, if he was being honest. Scared… But excited.

He let Jungkook hurry off to the bathroom before grabbing his keys and slipping his shoes back on, heading out to buy a few necessary items and plan for the evening.

When Taehyung returned, he could hear Jungkook singing from the bedroom. The sound warmed his heart. As quiet as he could, he snuck up and peeked in, watching Jungkook apply just a little makeup to his eyes. He didn’t need it, Taehyung had told him a thousand times, but it did look beautiful. 

“Ready?” He asked when the eyeliner pen was a safe distance from Jungkook’s eye. His boyfriend jumped, his ears twitching back. 

“You scared me,” Jungkook complained.

“Sorry.”

Taehyung entered fully, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s middle. He nuzzled his neck, kissing it gently before curving his neck up and letting his teeth graze Jungkook’s fuzzy ear. “You look great. And smell even better.”

“It’s the cologne you like,” Jungkook said, smiling at him through the mirror. “I’m ready. Where are we going?”

“Just someplace to get some food. A nice dinner and then we’ll be headed to a more secluded spot.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, his nose twitching. “What do you mean?”

“Trust me. Get your coat on, I gotta change really quick.”

Jungkook nodded. He grabbed lip balm, applying a little before pocketing it and bouncing out of the room. 

Their dinner was quiet and smooth, a natural ease of just being together that had been formed from the number of years spent in one another’s company. Despite the knowledge of what would be (hopefully) happening later that evening, the meal flowed with no tension or awkwardness, even when the waiter did a double take and very nearly dropped their drinks at the sight of Taehyung’s thick, leathery wings, topped with fur. It wasn’t a new thing; there weren’t many dragons and Taehyung, despite his kind, timid nature, was eye catching. 

When dinner ended, Taehyung began to drive, still keeping Jungkook in the dark about where they were going. He knew Jungkook trusted him, and hoped this was a pleasant surprise. Up, toward the mountains they went, and Jungkook’s excitement and curiosity was beginning to bubble over. 

“You won’t give me any hints?” He asked for the fifth time.

Taehyung only smiled, reaching over and stroking his floppy ear. “I will not. Settle down, would you? You’re wiggling all over the place.”

“I’m curious,” Jungkook whined. 

“We’re almost there.”

Jungkook huffed, pouting a little and looking out the window. “Are we going camping?”

“Something like that.”

Jungkook wiggled excitedly, grinning. “We haven’t camped in forever. It’s such a nice day to do it too.”

Taehyung nodded, turning a curve. He parked in front of an open field. Jungkook tilted his head. “Here?”

“Here.” Taehyung got out and circled around to the trunk, pulling out a few bags of things he’d purchased. He heard Jungkook get out and take off, and glanced up to see Jungkook darting into the field, burning off some of the nervous energy he must have built up in the car. 

He rushed back, breathing heavily. “What is that big black spot in the field? The dirt one.”

“That’s for a bonfire.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “Are we gonna have one?”

Taehyung smirked. He shut the trunk and set the bags down, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s waist. He dragged him close. “What kind of dragon would I be if I didn’t make love to my mate in front of a fire?”

“Mate?” Jungkook squeaked. 

Taehyung smiled shyly. He let go of Jungkook’s waist and grabbed the bags, hurrying toward the center of the field. He had worked hard to avoid that term. It was outdated and he knew a lot of people took offense to it, especially since it was so animalistic in some people’s minds. But for dragons – mate was the highest honor. He wondered it Jungkook knew that, or if he’d be offended. When they were a new couple, Taehyung’s parents had warned him that a prey animal would never make a good life partner for someone like Taehyung… But to a dragon, isn’t everything prey? He loved Jungkook. And this felt right. He was terrified, he knew, as he set up a little base of padding and some soft blankets near where the fire would be. It could all go south fast, but he was trying to remain optimistic. He could feel Jungkook watching him, but continued to putter about, laying out a little cooler of snacks and drinks for them, a little black bag with some more adult natured items, and finally walking around to gather up some firewood and kindling for the bonfire. 

“Can I light it?” Jungkook finally asked, crouching next to Taehyung as he set up the wood. Taehyung grinned and huffed, puffing a little smoke from his nostrils. 

“Can you breathe fire?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You’re gonna? You almost never—”

“Tradition.”

Jungkook nodded. He scooted back, watching Taehyung eagerly. Taehyung chuckled. 

“You’re gonna give me performance anxiety.”

“Sorry… I just never get to see you do it. You’re so shy about it.”

“It takes a lot of effort is all.” Taehyung looked over. “But you’re worth it.”

He let his wings splay out, flicking gently as he inhaled deep puffs of air. He began to puff out smoke, first light – almost white puffs, and slowly darkening. 

Little sparks appeared next, stinging the soft meat of his tongue. He furrowed his brows and blew out again, a warmth growing in his chest. And again, it was almost uncomfortable now – there it was. A third time, his mouth open wider now, tongue flatted against the bottom of his mouth to avoid scalding as a lick of flame, vibrant red and green shifting in a way only the fire of a dragon could, shot out. It caught the small stick in his hand and lit it, chewing through the wood fast enough that Taehyung had to throw it onto the fire lest his hand end up singed. The kindling caught immediately and Jungkook gasped next to him, falling back on his butt. Taehyung smirked, pride swelling in his chest as the fire sparked green and purple and red. 

“It’s so pretty,” Jungkook praised.

“All for you,” Taehyung said softly, reaching out and stroking Jungkook’s cheek. “It’s tradition to take your mate beside a bonfire made just for them. Usually it’s in front of a cave but I couldn’t find one I felt safe sleeping in with a dragon’s fire, so a camping field will have to do.”

“It’s perfect, Tae.” Jungkook moved close to him, snuggling against his neck. Taehyung’s tail thumped happily on the dirt, and he nuzzled Jungkook’s soft, floppy ear.

“Mate,” Jungkook whispered. “Do you hate me calling you that?”

“Why haven’t you before?”

Taehyung shrugged. “I didn’t want to offend you. I know a lot of people think it’s gross.”

“But I know it means something special for your species. I’m honored. Don’t stop using it, okay?”

“I won’t.” Taehyung kissed along Jungkook’s neck. “Never.” He pushed him down onto the soft blankets next to the fire and laid over him, kissing him deeply.

The kiss deepened naturally, as it tended to between the two. Taehyung slid his hand down, cupping Jungkook through his jeans. He began so squeeze and rub gently, feeling Jungkook begin to stiffen under the rough denim. 

Jungkook slid his hands down Taehyung’s hips. 

“Lemme see you,” Jungkook whined when Taehyung instinctively twitched his hips away from the hand wandering toward his crotch. “Lemme see your cock.”

Taehyung hesitated. He needed to show it one way or another, maybe it was best to get it out of the way now, so they could stop if they needed to with less damage. 

Jungkook, seeming to sense his hesitation, whined again. He spread his legs, squeezing his own cock, the outline visible in his jeans. “You’re gonna fuck me for the first time tonight,” he panted. “Bet you’ve got so much to give me. All these years just jerking off... You can’t come as well when you’re just using your hand.”

Taehyung shuddered, his tail wagging. His own cock throbbed in the confines of his jeans, the dirty talk twisting his stomach up in knots. 

Jungkook giggled. He reached out, cupping Taehyung’s thickening bulge.

“Already so big. This is what you’re gonna knot me with? Make me your mate? Ruin me for anything else?” 

Taehyung growled low in his chest. “Your ass is never gonna have anything in it except my tongue and my cock.” 

Jungkook smirked. “Oops, I broke that rule. Take off my pants and I’ll show you a present.” 

Taehyung obeyed, stripping his jeans and boxers. He gasped when Jungkook spread his legs. Peeking out of his hole was a silver anal plug, buried deep inside him. 

“I wanted you to be able to fuck me faster. It’s the biggest one I own, just a little smaller than my toy.”

Taehyung swore, tugging the silver base until Jungkook’s hole began to stretch around it and he moaned sharply. 

“Please. Lemme see it,” Jungkook begged again. 

Taehyung nodded, relenting this time. He rose and stripped down to his boxers. Jungkook sat up, pulling his remaining clothes off. He grabbed Taehyung’s boxers and tugged them off slowly. 

Taehyung’s cock sprang free, stiff with the promise of sex. It was thick and long, with a pointed tip and a flared head. Running down the shaft were thick, green oblong scales forming firm ridges and matching his facial scale color. At the base of his cock was a patch of skin, loose and moveable, but slowly filling and swelling already. 

Jungkook moaned needily, stroking the shaft. “Lemme suck it?” He begged. 

Taehyung’s mouth hung open, mostly shocked that Jungkook didn’t run at the first sight of his ugly cock. He nodded lamely. 

Jungkook went forward, easily swallowing half of his cock down. Taehyung’s hips jerked forward. He bit back a moan, his tail wagging gently.

Jungkook pulled back. “No need to go gently. I don’t have much of a reflex.” 

Taehyung nodded. He stroked Jungkook’s soft ears before using them to drag him back onto his cock. He held him still as he thrusted forward three times. Jungkook’s throat fluttered the first time, and the second he gagged softly. By the third he was relaxed, easily letting Taehyung’s cock slip down his throat. 

Taehyung couldn’t look away as he used Jungkook’s willing, warm mouth. His cock was out, it was in Jungkook in some form, yet he was unphased. His cock was still hard between his thighs, his eyes crinkled up in a smile as he swallowed around Taehyung’s cock and snuck quick breaths of air between the thrusts.

Taehyung pulled back, drawing in a shaky breath. “Gotta stop or I’m gonna come.” 

“Then it’s time,” Jungkook said eagerly. He laid down and grabbed the little black baggie nearby. He passed Taehyung the lube, relaxing. 

Taehyung took a shaky breath. He pulled the plug free, smirking at the wet pop it made.  He drove three lube slicked fingers into Jungkook’s ass. He stretched him a little more, determined to make sure this wouldn’t hurt Jungkook in any way if it could be helped. 

When he determined he was stretched enough, he withdrew his fingers, slicking up his cock instead.

“Just relax,” he said lining up his cock. Jungkook’s hole was tight around Taehyung’s cock as he nudged the tip in for the first time. He could feel Jungkook’s rapid pulse, fluttering the tight rim. Jungkook remained silent, his bottom lip between his teeth. His hands were relaxed on Taehyung’s thighs, and his cock remained hard, dribbling precome onto his smooth belly.

Slow and steady; Taehyung knew this was no challenge for Jungkook, based on that toy he’d had buried in his hole earlier in the day. The thought made a small flame of anger bubble up, and he snapped his hips forward. Jungkook’s hole was his. 

Jungkook gasped, the motion causing his tip to slide fully in, the flared head nestling tight against the rings of muscle in Jungkook’s ass. Their gazes met and Taehyung smirked.

“My little bunny boy’s no longer a virgin.”

Jungkook giggled, his folded ear twitching up.

“And I didn’t break in two. I’m still so hard,” he whined, reaching down to stroke his cock. “I need you, Taehyung.”

“You sure?” He teased, pushing forward. The ridges of his cock slid in slowly, making Jungkook whine on each one. “Maybe you’d rather your toy dragon still?”

“Never, oh!” 

His short nails bit into Taehyung’s hips when he slid another inch in, nestling the spot where his cock would swell with a knot against Jungkook’s opening.

“If I go all the way...” 

Jungkook grinned broadly. “Make me take your knot? Is it big?” 

He reached down, trying to feel for any indication of the size. Taehyung shivered, his tail giving a tentative little wag. 

“It’s about softball sized,” he panted.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Softball?” 

“You don’t have to take it. We can just do this.” He pulled back and slid in until he reached the swelling spot again. Jungkook moaned softly.

“No, I want it,” he panted. He spread his legs further and reached up, grabbing the firm bones at the top of Taehyung’s wings. “I know why you’re scared.”

Taehyung looked away, staring into the bonfire roaring next to them.

“Dragons — they mate for life.” 

Taehyung’s jaw twitched. He hesitated before answering. “Only in certain cases.”

Jungkook slid his hands over the soft fur covering Taehyung’s wing bones. “Your dad did. And I know there’s not many of your kind left. Dragons. Or fusions. I’ve been by your side since we were kids, Tae. You were my best friend in school, my first kiss, my first everything. I can’t imagine a future without you. I know the meaning of this. The fire, us...” Jungkook cupped Taehyung’s chin and turned his head to make him look at him. He smiled.

“This is for life.” 

Taehyung’s heart clenched at Jungkook’s words. He leaned forward, catching his mouth in a deep kiss as he pushed his hips forward, driving the last three inches deep into Jungkook. 

Jungkook shouted into his mouth, holding tight to his wings as Taehyung began to fuck him. He was aware, in the back of his mind, that he was being rough, but Jungkook was egging him on, moaning and shouting for it. His channel was hot and warm and perfect, molding itself to Taehyung’s cock as he pumped into him. 

Taehyung pulled back then and sat on the ground, his tail swiping up a dust cloud as it wagged rapidly. He pushed a finger into Jungkook’s beautifully gaped ass. 

“Come on, bunny boy,” he cooed, puffing a breath of smoke in Jungkook’s direction.

“Hop for me.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes deeply. He grinned as he did, scrambling up. Taehyung slid a hand down his back when he settled onto his lap, grabbing Jungkook’s sensitive tail. He used it to guide the younger onto his cock once more, moaning in harmony with Jungkook.

As he demanded, Jungkook began to bounce on his lap, his ass easily and eagerly taking the full length of Taehyung’s aching cock. His ears flopped as he moved, his front teeth bared as he huffed and whined, giving him quite an adorable appearance despite the fact that he was being fucked by a cock almost too big for his body.

Taehyung wrapped his arms tight around Jungkook, licking at the spot right behind his jaw that drove him crazy. His ass clenched around Taehyung, and he whimpered his name. 

“It’s starting,” Taehyung warned. He shoved forward, knocking Jungkook back onto his back on the blankets. He laid over him, huffing softly as he sped up. Jungkook hooked his legs around Taehyung’s middle, his back arching as Taehyung’s knot began to swell, catching on his rim. Taehyung could feel his body twitching, tugging, trying to adjust, but knew it was futile; once he came he’d stay buried inside his sweet lover for as long as it took, emptying himself of come and - ideally - pleasuring Jungkook until he could take no more. 

And he was well on his way it seemed. Jungkook clawed Taehyung’s back, sobbing his name.

“Please— I’m so close—“ He begged. He made an effort to grab at his cock, but Taehyung caught his wrist and pinned it, driving in particularly hard. 

“Don’t touch yourself when I’m fucking you,” he growled, a puff of smoke slipping from his nose. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back at the command. He let his legs fall open further and let out a high, needy whine. 

“Please— Taehyung,” he begged. Taehyung smirked. Jungkook had always liked being bossed around. 

“Come on my cock.”

Jungkook nodded. He began to writhe under Taehyung, meeting his thrusts. 

Taehyung knew it was coming to an end, far too soon, in his book. His balls were drawn tight, pressure building in the base of his cock and his stomach like a balloon filling with water. His knot began to swell faster and he whined.

“Jungkook—“ He knew he sounded desperate and strained... He was.

“Jungkook, please. It’s— I’ve gotta... Tell me.” He huffed, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. “Tell me if you want it or not.” 

Jungkook smiled softly then, looking surprisingly relaxed for as worked up as they both were. “I want it. I want you. Knot me. Come in me. I’m yours.” 

Taehyung roared, sounding more dragon-like than he ever had before. He tossed his head back, a burst of fire and smoke slipping from his lungs as he drove deep into Jungkook’s ass. His knot swelled to its maximum, too wide to slip free. His balls throbbed, tickled by Jungkook’s tail, as he spilled rope after rope of hot, thick come inside him. 

Under him, Jungkook screamed until his voice broke. Taehyung felt his cock jerk between their bellies, coating them both with splashes of come. He looked down, panic streaking through him when he saw tear tracks marking Jungkook’s cheeks. A second look though, and he noticed Jungkook smiling broadly. He looked up at Taehyung, his eyes wet. 

“Why are you crying?” Taehyung asked, his voice shaky as he tried to speak normally.

“You did it. You took me... I feel so good. I’m gonna come again, I—“ he gasped, screwing his eyes shut. Another tear slid down his cheek as his cock twitched and spilled, signaling a second orgasm. 

Taehyung leaned down, licking the tears from Jungkook’s cheeks. He giggled then moaned. He whined. “I can’t come again—“

Taehyung chuckled, leaning back to watch Jungkook’s cock dribble weak spurts of come.

“I’m gonna have you coming for a while,” he warned. 

Jungkook groaned, burying his face in his hands. He began to shudder softly, whining as Taehyung’s cock pulsed inside him.

Taehyung scooped him up, wiggling a little closer to the fire and wrapping his wings around him, safely cocooning Jungkook with him. 

He felt Jungkook’s tears on his shoulder even as his cock dribbled more come, shivering hard in Taehyung’s arms.

“I’m not sad—“ Jungkook panted.

“I know.”

“Just so— Ughh...” he sobbed weakly. “Overstimulated.”

“I know baby. Just let it out. So proud of you,” Taehyung cooed. His orgasm as faded, leaving behind just a pleasant tingle as his balls drained themselves inside Jungkook. He began to groom his shivering lover, nuzzling and nibbling his soft ears, scratching the sensitive skin of his lower back and tail. 

Finally, the intensity of Taehyung’s throbs decreased enough to stop steadily milking Jungkook’s prostate, allowing him to relax in Taehyung’s arms.

“How long?” He asked in a surprisingly small voice.

“Another ten or so,” Taehyung said. “Are you comfortable?”

“Sleepy.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “Wonder why. Sweet little bunny just got railed by a dragon.” 

Jungkook laughed tiredly. “Love story for the ages.”

“You can sleep though. You should sleep. I’ll be here.”

Jungkook looked up at him, smiling softly. “I love you, Taehyungie.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.” They shared a gentle kiss, and Jungkook drifted to sleep in his arms, leaving Taehyung alone with his thoughts.

They had finally made love. It was better than Taehyung had ever imagined it could be. Jungkook wasn’t scared of him – he seemed so pleasured by his cock, even though it wasn’t exactly dog, nor dragon, nor human… Their bodies just seemed to fit. And even now, as his knot softened inside Jungkook, the fear was leaving his body. Jungkook was his mate. Was the man he loved and would be with for the rest of his life. His parents – the world – they were wrong. Jungkook may have been a bunny, and he a dragon – but their hearts were human. And they were in love. 

#btsguild #thebtswritersclub #bangtanmxm #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #taekook #jungkook x taehyung #taehyung x jungkook #vkook #hybrid au #smut

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Finally Here

Jasper x Reader

A/N. Full disclosure this is my first time writing for anything twilight but I was happy do it because it was Jasper. Commission for @kilyra​ ! ALSO, Alice x Jasper doesn’t exist here.

Summary: A vampire intends on havin you as their dinner, Jasper intervenes.

Forks – it was beautiful and had been the perfect place to grow up, but it had been nearly five years since you lived in your hometown. Besides holiday vacations, life after college had kept you away from Forks and your family but a recent job change to Seattle had brought you closer to home.  It has been about a week since you settled into your parents’ home and you were finally going out with a few old high school friends who were still around.  After changing into some comfortable jeans and tee, you grabbed a black coat and said goodbye to your parents, feeling like a teenager again, as you ran out just as your ride pulled up.

The bar was new, replaced the old one you had passed by so many times as a kid; never getting a glimpse into it but knowing adults liked to go there for a good time. It was odd at first, walking in and knowing you were now an adult but that was nothing a few rounds of beer could fix – and a few shots of tequila; three hours later, you were having a good time catching up with old friends and relieving the stress of moving and starting a new job.

“So, when’s the apartment ready?”

“It won’t be available for another two weeks,” you explained to Mary, your high school best friend. “Which is fine, since my new job does not start until next month.”

“Good, that means more time together,” she grinned, eyes dodging to the front door. “We can find you a man here, a cool one.”

You laughed and said no. “I do not want to go man hunting; I need to focus on my work.”

“Unless that man is Jasper, huh?”

Mary’s words had the heat rise from your toes and you chucked a crumpled napkin at her – it had been almost seven years since Jasper and you had been partnered up for a history class in your junior year. He had been quiet most of the semester but that did not mean you had not noticed how attractive he was. Of course, all the girls loved the Cullen brothers, but they mostly swooned over Edward. Jasper, he was much more reserved, which said a lot because most of the Cullen clan was reserved.

Jasper had been soft spoken but informative about the American Civil War, the part of history the pair of you were assigned to. Since he was pretty much a walking Encyclopedia on all thing’s history, you took the role of presenter although he did chime in once or twice to help you out. Overall, the two of you did well and received top marks, and after that, you would gain a small smile from Jasper in the hallways.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, pushing away the beer in front of you. “I thought that was forgotten history!”

Mary shrugged and mentioned that he still lived in town. “The whole family still lives here; I see Bella so often – can’t believe Edward and her actual worked out.”

The mention of your old classmate and friend brings a smile to your face, remembering the couple’s small wedding and how surprised you were to be invited. You also remembered the glances Jasper and you shared at the party throughout the night and feeling slightly disappointed when nothing came of it but moving on as life did.

“I’m glad to hear, maybe I’ll give her a call before I head to Seattle. I’m going to have a quick smoke, want to come?”

Mary declined in favor of talking up a guy at the bar, so you left her to do her thing while you placed on your coat and grabbed your cross bag,  going out the back entrance of the bar. It was chilly but you lit up a cigarette and leaned against the back wall. It was nice being back home, but it was incredibly different from the California weather you had grown accustomed to.

“You cold, sweetheart?”

A chill went down your spine as you glanced to the left of you, where a man stood hands tucked into his jean jacket. He was attractive but something in his smile made you feel uneasy; listening to your gut instinct, you flicked the cigarette to the ground and started toward the back door but you barely touched the handle when you felt the weight of the man on you.

“Don’t bother screaming, sweetheart, I will rip your throat out before you have the chance,” he whispered into your ear, fingers gripping at your shoulders. Your body still in shock as he pulled you away from the door and turned you around to face him. A stifled scream began to form in your throat as his eyes went from blue to black, but he had grabbed you by the neck and started dragging you towards alley way that led to the edge of the woods.

His grip on you did not flinch as you attempted to hit him with both fists, but it did nothing to do as he tossed you forward. You hit the ground and scramble to your feet, running into the woods as this sinking feeling hit you – running away from the bar and into the dark woods was an awful choice but you ran, nonetheless.

It felt like you were running to your death as your feet pounded into the dirt ground, trying to pull out your cell at the same time until you dashed behind a tree hoping to dial 911. Your fingers shook as the screen lit and you dialed the number nine but that was all you could get to before the cell was knocked out of your hand.

It was the man, the monster, and he smiled as he pushed you up against the tree; his hand touched the side of your face. “Feel free to scream all you want now, honey, no one will hear you.”

“Fuck you,” you grunted, staring into his eyes trying to show that you weren’t scared.

“I like a fighter,” he growled, showing off his sharp teeth. Your head turned away from the sight and a slight whimper echoed out of your mouth as tears ran down your face; never in your life have you felt fear like this, but you did not want it to end like this. Turning back to him, you started to fight against him, getting a slap in that seemed to entice him even more. He grinned as he seemingly twisted your arm, breaking it as you screamed in pain.

“Leave her alone.”

A deep rustic voice came from out of the shadows and before your eyes could adjust from the tears, the man was off you and a familiar face was in front of you; a face you could never forget, especially those eyes, those deep gold eyes.

“Jasper?”

“You’re going to be okay,” he said with a slight smirk before turning his attention to your attacker. “I would try to run if I were you, my brother and his wife are waiting for you at the town border, and the rest of my family are hunting down the rest of your group – that is, if the wolves haven’t gotten to them first.”

The man growled but turned and disappeared within seconds, leaving you feeling dizzy and afraid. Tears welled up in your eyes and you started to cry, body shaking as Jasper touched your broken arm.

“It’s not, it’s really not,” you cried, pushing his hand away. Your chest felt heavy as you tried to control your emotions, but everything was crashing down on you like a train. “What was that? Who was he?”

Jasper remained quiet for a moment and you could sense the unsureness in his face until he sighed and looked at you. “He was a vampire.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled at your brazen answer and suddenly your fear seemed to vanish under his glance, and you felt like that teenager again in history class – except now the two of you were adults and vampires existed in Forks.

Wolves too.

“We need to call the police, tell Charlie!”

Jasper cleared his throat and said that he knew. “He knows about us.”

Us; the word came out quiet, but you heard it and it made the pain from your arm fade into the background as it became apparent that the person you had a crush on had been a vampire this entire time – and then, it all made sense.

“We need to get your arm checked out; Carlisle will help you.”

You didn’t say anything, still stun but you nodded and mumbled a thank you when Jasper picked up your cell phone from the ground. He wiped it clean and handed it over, taking his jacket off.

“I should set it until we get to the hospital.” He stepped closer to you and noticed the way your body stiffened as he tied the jacket as a sling around your shoulder. You winced as your arm settled against your chest but then Jasper’s fingers accidentally brushed the back of your neck as he adjusted it, and it felt soothing.

“Thank you,” you whispered, fully aware of how close he was. His eyes stared into yours and he nodded, but you could not look away; there was something there and it was like the two of you were back at the wedding. His eyes always found you that night, prompting you to smile and look away shyly, and now it was no different.

Except, he apparently was a vampire.

“Let’s get you to the house.”

“I need to call my friend; we were at the bar together.”

Jasper glanced around the ground, finding your cell. He dusted it off and handed it over. “Call your friend, I’ll call Carlisle.”

You watched him for a moment under the moonlight as he turned his back to you; Jasper was a vampire and it didn’t go over your head when he said his brother and his wife were waiting for your attacker at the town border – did that mean Bella was one too?

Is that why Charlie knew about the vampires and wolves?

Were all the Cullen’s vampires too?

You called Mary, she was frantic for a moment, wondering where you had gone. Telling her to calm down, you explained that you gotten an emergency call and had to leave. You apologized for leaving her hanging but she said it was fine and promised that she would take a cab home if necessary. The two of you hung up and you looked to Jasper.

“I came here on foot, I’m fast. I can get you to the house, but you have to trust me.”

Heart pounding, you knew you could – you could trust him because you felt it. Felt a strange pulling to the man in front of you and something occurred to you.

“You knew so much about the Civil War because you lived through it, didn’t you?”

Jasper smirked knowingly and sighed. “Yes, I must confess my firsthand experience got us that A.”

“Cheater,” you scolded playfully, lifting the tension out of the air.

He laughed and shrugged, moving to you. “We passed, didn’t we?”

“We did. I guess you being a vampire explains a lot, it must be hard.”

Jasper’s face fell. “What do you mean?”

Tucking your cell back into your pocket, you looked up at him. “I work in psychology; you might be a vampire, but I can tell you still have some human in you. So that means you have feelings and like the rest of you, have things that haunt us in our sleep.”

His chest heaved a bit as he felt the genuine concern flowing from your body towards his, he could feel your sincerity and he was mentally kicking himself for letting you go that night at the wedding; when he couldn’t help  but look for you throughout the night. He had talked himself out of approaching you that night because you were human and was afraid of what that meant. Yes, it worked out for Edward and Bella but he always thought his heart would go to another vampire – someone he could spend forever with, not a human who would perish one day, like all the people he encountered in his long life. But now it seemed, life was giving him a second chance at something with someone he felt this unbelievable connection with, and he knew there was no way he was letting you walk away this time.

“You’re incredibly right.”

You smiled with amusement until you accidentally moved your arm. “Shit.”

Jasper frowned. “I need to get you to Carlisle; the fastest way is for me to carry you there.”

Laughing, you noted that you weren’t as limber as you had been in high school and Jasper grinned. “You look great.”

Hiding your grin, you asked how long it would take to get to the house. Jasper said not long at all, holding out both hands. “Are you ready?’

Feeling a little uncertain, you stepped up to him and cursed loudly when he scooped you up in his arms. He smiled down at you as a strand of hair fell over his eyes, thinking nothing of it, you reached up with your good hand and brushed it back behind his ears. Your heart raced as your hand lingered on his cheek, especially when he didn’t move away, instead his head moved down to yours and before you could commute was happening, he kissed you.

It was sweet, soft and short but it had your head spinning as he pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open and you should have been thinking about the fact that you were kissing a vampire, but all you saw was Jasper – soft spoken and kind Jasper

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Except, you weren’t.

The speed he was going was unfathomable, the wind ran through your hair as you pressed your head into his shoulders, eyes closed for the entire three minutes it took Jasper to get to the house which was lit up like a lantern. Jasper stopped suddenly and you yelped, gaining a lighthearted laugh from him. Slowly, he placed you down on your feet and asked if you were okay, moving your hair off your shoulders.

“I feel like I might throw up.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing we kissed before.”

His teasing was delightful and you smiled just as the front door opened; it was Carlisle and Esme, looking like the perfect couple – and that’s when you remember they too are vampires but you weren’t scared not when Jasper gently reached for your good hand. He squeezed it lightly and said it was okay, that you would be fine.

“I know,” you said to him, letting him guide you up the stairs to the front door. Carlisle and Esme rushed you in, the latter taking your hand from Jasper as she moved you to the living room. You could overhear from the foyer the two men discussing your attacker – Bella and Edward had caught him

“The others will deal with his friends,” Esme assured you, her smile was warm and dainty. “Just like humans, there are good and bad vampires.”

“And you guys are the good ones,” you pointed out, taking a seat on the couch.

Esme smiled and you relaxed just as Alice walked in, her eyes wide with delight. The two of you never had any classes together but you knew her by reputation – she was a very nice person. Skipping over to you, taking a seat next to you. She grinned and touched your shoulder lightly, explaining that she was so happy you were finally here.

“Finally?”

Alice looked over to Esme before smiling at you. “Yes, Jasper didn’t know about you, but I did. You are the one to get him out of his little sad rut; the two of you are going to be so happy together and we become the best of friends! I saw you coming years ago but I guess you weren’t ready until now. He was terribly upset when you left town for school, but things worked out!”

Not understanding what she was saying, you glanced up at Esme, who explained that Alice could see the future.

“Something like that,” Alice concluded, giving you a wink as she jumped off the couch. She looped an arm around Esme’s waist and lead the woman out, leaving you alone for a moment to take in what she had said.

Alice was a vampire who could see the future and she saw Jasper and you together, and happy. There were so many questions to be asked and you wanted answers but more importantly, you wanted to see Jasper.

“Are you okay?”

You looked over to the archway of the living room and saw Jasper, looking a bit stiff – it seemed Alice had spilled the information to him as well.

“So, Alice told you as well?”

You nodded and Jasper sighed, stepping closer into the room. Scooting over, you watched as he made his way to you. He hesitated for a moment before sitting down but relaxed once said his name and he looked at you.

“It’s going to be great, okay?”

Jasper’s golden eyes softened as you smiled, reaching down for his hand. Squeezing it, you gently laid your head on his shoulder and knew that everything would be fine – yes, there was going to be some adjusting to the fact that vampires existed but there was no denying a future seen. And even if you could, you didn’t want to because you wanted Jasper.

“Everything will fall into place,” you promised him, and he believed it, could feel it.

“It will, “he said, getting up from the couch. He held out a hand to you and grinned “But let’s get that arm taken care of before Alice starts planning a wedding.”

Amused that Jasper made a joke, you took his hand and got up. He stood tall and you leaned forward to kiss him gently on the lips, eyes closed. The world was swirling around the two of you and it felt like a beginning of something amazing, and you were sure it was going to be a wild ride – but one you were more than willing to take with the man in front of you.

“I would love a summer wedding.”

Jasper laughed and took your head, leading out the door. “I can’t stand in the sun.”

“Wait do you melt like that wicked witch?”

“No,” he chuckled. “That was water, but I do…sparkle.”

Leaving the living room, you yelped in delight as he smiled with utter amusement because he felt something he hadn’t in a long time; unfiltered happiness.

“Holy – you SPARKLE!”

#jasper x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #twilight

[mhdiaries]

Monster Exchange Lorna McNessie Passport

5-30

So this is how ma day started: “Lorna McNessie, please report tae the Dead Master’s office.” Uh, oh. It’s usually nae good when you hear your name vibratin’ oot of a classroom speaker. As I left the room I could hear ma classmates giggling behind me; this nae bein’ the fiercst time I’d made the long walk tae the office. I was pretty sure this time it must be aboot me photo bombing the faculty fearbook picture. I just couldna help ma self; there they all were in their robes and finery, looking all stern and teacher-like, and there was that window behind them. I was drawn tae it like a werewolf tae a full moon, and even then I only stuck ma face in for one snap... or two... so I didna think it would cause a fuss. I stood outside the Dead Master’s door, drew a deep breath and got me, “Yes, I should have known better” apology ready. Then I knocked and stuck ma head in. “You wanted tae see me, sir?” He was on the phone and he waved me in and pointed tae a chair. I sat down while kept talkin’ tae the monster on the other end. “Ay, academically strong.” He just listened for a moment and then laughed himself tae tears. “Nae, nae, ‘twas something ye said struck me funny. I can assure you that self-confidence will nae be an issue with this one, Headmistress Bloodgood. Thank you for yer time, as well, and I’m sure we’ll speak again soon. Goodbye.” The Dead Master hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. “That was Headless Headmistress Bloodgood from Monster High. She’s accepted you application for the monster exchange program.” I couldna believe it, which seemed tae be an opinion shared by the Dead Master. I asked if that was the reason he called me tae his office. He said, “Nae - ‘twas merely a happy accident. But since you’re here, I suppose I shouldna have tae tell you that you’ll be representing our school, and I’ll expect you tae be on your beast behaviour.” I told him that, of course, I would, and that I would make the school proud. “Very good. Now let’s have a little chat aboot the faculty fearbook photo, shall we?”

6-5

Ma parents are understandably cautious aboot me leaving the loch tae attend Monster High. I don’t blame them, though; it is in their nature tae be so. Sometimes they look at me like I’m an alien when I tell them aboot ma latest photo bomb adventure, and then they just roll their eyes and say, “Just like your Gran.” I take that as a compliment, sine ma Gran is the scaly coolest monster ever! I went tae see her today tae tell the news that I’d be going to Monster High, and I think she was even more excited than me. She has a whole album of ma pictures, at least the ones I could get copies of, and she loves the stories behind them. She’s feisty, funny, and is an amazing storyteller. She can even make the ones I’ve heard a hundred times seem as new and exciting as the first time. Her stories aboot being a young ghoul in the loch are so funny, they make ma fins hurt. But one of her best tales is aboot the time I took her aboot on a photo bomb expedition. There is this bird that lives around the loch called the Three-Eyed Dusky Dragon Owl. They’re as rare as slug hair, and you mostly hear them rather than see them, but every so often a pair will build a nest some place near tae a road, and then monster bird watchers flock in... hehe... by the busload. Now it just so happened that the nest was at the bottom of a very steep cliff and on a branch that hung aboot over the water. I suggested tae Gran that we swim under water and pop our heads aboot as soon as the first birdwatchers started snapping photos, but Gran said, “Where’s the fun in that?” She didn’t want tae be in ONE picture, she wanted tae photo bomb them ALL. That’s why there is now a framed magazine cover over her mantel from the monster world’s most famous nature magazine. It features a nesting pair of Three-Eyed Dusky Dragon Owls, and two pieces of driftwood floating in the water behind them. If you look close enough you can almost see the driftwood giggling. 

6-15

I’ve been getting tons of messages from different ghouls at Monster High saying they are looking forward tae meeting me. Then tonight I got tae video chat wit Howleen and Twyla. Howleen was super bouncy, and Twyla seemed shy but funny. It seemed like they had as many questions for me as I had for them. I was especially curious tae know if Headless Headmistress Bloodgood had a sense of humor or nae. Howleen got an odd look on her face, then started tae say something, but didn’t. Twyla actually laughed oot loud. “That depends,” said Twyla, “on whether or not her office gets filled with packing peanuts on a day when she’s giving foreign digniscaries a tour of the school.” I started laughing and asked Howleen if she got into trouble for the prank. “I had to come in on Saturday, and she made me clean them up by hand one peanut at a time. It took all day.” I said it sounded like she was no fun a’tall. “Wait,” said Twyla giggling, “you have to hear what happened next.” Howleen leaned back, and with a smirk on her face said, “When I got to school on Monday and opened my locker, I got buried in a flood of packaging peanuts.” At this point Twyla fell off the chair she was sitting on, and I could hear her cracking up on the floor. “It wasn’t that funny, Twyla,” huffed Howleen. “Yes. It. Was.”   “Okay, Lorna, we’re going to go, now. Twyla has apparently lost her mind, and we’re going to need to try to find it.” I think I’m going to like Monster High, and with friends like these it’s nice to think I won’t have tae be swimming down stream like a lost salmon when I get there.

6-30

Got another surprise call tonight from a ghoul named Marisol Coxi. She’s a bigfoot from Monster Picchu, and she’s going to be at Monster High at the same time I am. She told me that Headless Headmistress Bloodgood gave her my number and said that we should get acquainted. Marisol is a bit larger than unlife, and I had tae turn down the volume when she was speaking tae me. At fiercst I was a bit taken aback, but her energy is so infectious, I couldne help but like her. We checked our schedules, and we’ll be arriving around the same time, so it’ll be nice tae have another new ghoul tae hang aboot with. I’m also hoping she’ll give me some pointers on how she does her nails. They were fabulous.

7-1

Mum and Gran made a monster dinner tonight and invited the whole family for ma going away party. All ma brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles and cousins were there tae celebrate. The table was full of ma favorite foods. There was Cullen Skink, Eyemouth pales, Kippers, tatties and herring, rollmops, smoked salmon, rumbledethumps, black puddings, and the grandest haggis you’ve ever set your eyes on. Then Mum brought aboot coffin berry scones, and of course the best shortbread in Rotland. Then the pipes and drums came oot, and we played and danced intae the wee hours. We even took a family photo, and for once it was a picture I didna have tae sneak intae.

7-5

Had ma last swim aboot the loch this morning, and it was pure magic. I love ma home, and even though I’m excited aboot going on the exchange tae Monster High, there’s nae danger that that I’ll ever want tae live any place else. I also saw a boatload of normies casting aboot for a chance tae take a photo of the “mysterious” creature that lives in the loch. All the grown folk were on one side of the boat with their cameras, and there was a bonnie wee lass on the opposite, just starin’ down intae the loch. So I swam up, stuck my head oot of the water and waved tae her. She smiled and waved back, and then I was gone. I imagine she’ll still be tellin’ that story when she’s a gran herself. 

#monster high #monster high diary #monster exchange #passport #lorna mcnessie

[shesidewalks]

“Precious” (Yunho GryffindorSeeker! x Ravenclaw reader)

Prologue:

In the years since Harry Potter’s defeat of the mass-murder, Tom Riddle, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had grown spectacularly. Not only did it remain the largest school for witchcraft and wizardry in western Europe, but it now also boasted an increasingly diverse population—thanks in part to muggle innovations and in part to Hogwarts’s wildly famous reputation as the home of Harry Potter.

Potter, now an auror for the Ministry of Magic, had ushered in a new era of inclusivity. No longer were wizarding schools restricted to drawing students from the local populace. Instead, it was quite common for student to transfer from one school to another at his or her whim, or study abroad across the globe. Courses such as History of Magic now included histories beyond the purview of the school’s locality. Herbologists and magical-creature enthusiasts were keen to import and export exotic species of plant and animal, without harming the indigenous populations of either, of course. Although, occasionally the International Ministry of Magic was called in to capture an escaped Japanese kitsune or South African Grootslang.

Defenses against the Dark Arts were bolstered, Quidditch players added to their playbooks and furiously studied the techniques of teams in the Americas, Asia, and Africa. Thanks to the best-selling book by Oliver Wood, 702 Ways to Win in Quidditch: A Global Perspective, Quidditch had never been so brutally competitive.

The wizarding world finally became a world instead of a series of independent islands.

In the early summer of 2010, Jeong Yun-ho of Gwanju, South Korea, received several acceptance letters: one from Daltokki Akademi (Academy of the Moon Rabbit) in Seoul, one from Ilvermorny in North America, one from a particularly prestigious shōgakko in Tokyo, and, finally, one from Hogwarts.

Korean witches and wizards had suffered greatly in the so-called Korean War that had taken place a few generations back. Although the muggles assumed the war took place for some political reason or other, in reality, the war had been a dispute between the two most powerful magical families in Korea: the Bams and the Moons. The former had grown tired of hiding behind a non-magical government and sought to overthrow the regime, using the muggle’s world war as an excuse to do so.

The Moons, on the other hand, defended the non-magical population and fought to protect it. The ending result was a stalemate.  As it stood, the North could (and did) practice magic openly but its people were forbidden to leave unless they agreed to hide their magic, or else they would incur the wrath of the entire wizarding community. The South continued to hide their magic for the sake of the muggles, who had always been rather touchy about the supernatural.

Yun-ho’s family, the Jeongs, had been ardent supporters of the South and, after the war, were given a great gift by the newly formed government: a Jeong would never have to pay for school as long the Moons were in power.

Yun-ho, then, had a great choice to make. The world was, quite literally, his for the taking—and he had only just turned 11 years old in the March.

His parents would support him wherever he went; however, his mother was rather partial toward the local Akademi and made her sentiments known. On more than one occasion, Yun-ho would wake up in the morning with Moon Rabbit paraphernalia draped across the foot of his bed. Sometimes there would be an actual rabbit staring back at him. 

Yet, as a lover of the wizard sport of Quidditch, Yun-ho had always secretly wanted to go to Hogwarts. All the best players went there, including Moon Seung—who was currently the top-ranked beater in the world. Seung also happened to be the nephew of President Moon (who was leader of both the non-magical and magical communities in South Korea) but that was far less impressive than his Quidditch skill.  

So, when it came time for Yun-ho to decide, he picked Hogwarts.

It didn’t matter that he knew only a handful on English words and had no idea how he’d pass any of his classes—all that mattered was his determination to play. What else did he need to know?

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

4 Years Later

“YUUUUUUNNNNN!!!!!”

“HOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

“YUUUUUUNNNNN!!!!!!”

“HOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

The shouts from the crowd deafened Yun-ho’s ears as he entered the Hogwarts stadium. He flashed a grin in the direction of the stands. The noise grew louder…and noticeably more high-pitched.

“OI! Stop flirting and get your snitch-seeking ass over here!”

Turning back around, Yun-ho still couldn’t keep the lopsided smile off his face. He joined the rest of the Gryffindor team and faced his grouchy captain, a sixth year by the name of Walter Beezle.

Beezle was a small, stocky lad from South London who liked to believe he was of pure Viking ancestry. His head was shaved to a dark stubble and he sported an impressive black beard which had taken 3 of his 6 years at Hogwarts to grow in. His eyebrows were set in a permanent, bushy glare.

He reminded Yun-ho of a grimy, moss-covered rock.

The comparison was apt.

Wally scowled up at Yunho as he approached but said nothing more than:

“Win or die, boys.”  

With that, the Gryffindor team lined up and waited for the whistle.

It was a bloodbath.

Gryffindor smashed Hufflepuff, beating them by 350 points. Yun-ho caught the snitch as a mercy more than anything. A fact that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the team who, between celebratory whoops, eyed him suspiciously.

He quietly excused himself from the afterparty before Beezle could sniff him out. Unfortunately, he still had a few hours to go before he could safely return to the Gryffindor common room. His admirers would notice his absence at the party and try to beat him to his bed and—worse—make his teammates hate him more than they already did.

Well, they didn’t hate him, not really. Gryffindors were “loyal” and Yun-ho knew that they didn’t wish him any actual harm, but it didn’t stop them from muttering darkly whenever his Eagle Owl dropped a letter from an admiring fan—usually a girl.

It didn’t help that he was whopping 1.82 meters and breathtakingly handsome.

And it most certainly didn’t help that he was a Metamorphmagus whose hair seemed to have a mind of its own, changing color with his mood. At the moment it had streaks of rose and blonde and blue.  

For these reasons, and probably many others, he stood out like a sore thumb.

Whenever he felt outlandish or in danger of fraternal jealousy (which was now) Yun-ho would walk the edge of the forbidden forest and drop in on the jolly groundskeeper, Hagrid, who kept a small hut on the border between the forest and the school grounds.

The sun was just beginning to set when Yun-ho happened upon Hagrid’s hut. Smoke was lazily huffing out from the chimney and a soft firelight emanated peacefully from the dirt-smudged windows. Yun-ho could already hear Fang II’s snores even though he was still a good distance from the front door.

Fang I had passed on to the great dog kennel in the sky a decade or so ago and Hagrid couldn’t live without a dog (or exceptionally dangerous magical creatures, for that matter), so the half-giant adopted another mastiff and christened him Fang II. 

It had been Fang II who had been Yun-ho’s first friend at Hogwarts, back when he couldn’t speak the language of his classmates and had felt most alone. Luckily, Fang II didn’t speak English either and his master understood what it was like to be an outsider—literally. 

Hagrid quickly became Yun-ho’s second friend and, now, his very best. He was probably waiting for Yun-ho now, eager to hear about the game.

On this particular evening, however, Hagrid would never hear about Gryffindor’s almost embarrassing victory over Hufflepuff; Yun-ho never knocked on his front door. Fang II kept snoring peacefully by the fireplace. 

Because somewhere in the woods nearby, a girl was crying.

#ateez #ateez au #yunho x reader #Harry Potter #CrossOver

[katsuki-goodness]

Part 1 =>

Summary: You both have known each other since middle school and you knew of his rude nature towards Izuku. You also happen to be one of Izuku’s good friends.

For the lovely, @shoutodoki​

~

I knew coming to this school was a good idea. The thought of leaving Izuku alone with Katsuki was a mistake in itself because I knew he was going to say even more stupid things to him. Was I an ass for being an ass back to the blonde? No. I don’t believe I am but I know he would say otherwise. Katsuki doesn’t hold back either so I really can’t say I don’t deserve it. I have my issues but one of them is the explosive boy which happens to be in the 1A class in UA. He got in and I didn’t but at least Izuku did.

I worked hard, I know I did but others worked harder and they got the result they wanted. Most of us just don’t have as much of the natural talent as the others in that class regardless of how encouraging broccoli boy can be, I can’t help myself in thinking how useless I felt when I didn’t get in the hero course. Katsuki did and I still wasn’t mad. Natural talent, even with his hot-headed nature.

Seeing Izuku walking with his friends into 1A got me a bit teary. It seems like he forgot about me though, judging by how he didn’t even notice me when I waved to him. Its been a year since the first start of the year and this is a new year. Maybe I should have spoken up but he looked so happy. I didn’t know what to do so I walked away into my own class: 1B.

I do miss hanging out with green hair but at least he is doing much better now. It seems like Katsuki hasn’t been bothering him as much which is good. Adding to the fact that the sports festival is around the corner and my anxiety is going to rise so much. I am scared to not live up to the training that I have been doing alone. I want to make Izuku look my way again and remember his good friend, but I also want to show Katsuki how much I’ve grown, too.

+

It was the day, and the classes were grouped up in the stadium. I had looked around with the intention of finding someone I knew but everyone was pushed in here at random times so I knew the teachers were setting things up. I was surrounded by some 1C and support students, looking confused and even more on guard than I’ve seen them. Some look very confident but right now, I felt nervous. I am sure they are going to do something but I am still wondering what it is.

“Welcome everyone! This year will be a new and even more difficult challenge than the previous years!” Present Mic shouted to many of the students gathered in the stadium. “This year, we will be putting you to a test in this very stadium! Aside from the amount of damage you all might be taking, we will be securing the audience while teachers will be standing by just in case!”

So this was what they were planning? Fighting a titan or another teacher? Everyone was preparing themselves and I had to do the same. It took me a few seconds to realize that the ground was shaking, everything looking blurry and I saw what seem to be mecha. What is this?

“That thing is huge!” Someone shouted and many other students followed suit. It stood up straight and launched an arm straight to the ground, making me and a few other students jump away.

“Come on everyone! We have to work together to slow it down so we can destroy it,” Another said. I was agreeing to that but once I saw the source of the voice, he was already sprinting towards the mecha. A few others were as well, and I recognized them all. They all were so fearless, the look on their faces was serious and looked so determined. I had to do the same. I can use my quirk to slow down the mecha.

I used a mist I can use that travels at a fast rate to guide it to the feet and legs of the mecha, grabbing ahold of it as it traveled upward the leg.

“Nice job, Y/n,” I heard one of my classmates say. “Take advantage of this time! She won’t hold out for long!” A lot of students began to charge at it but the mecha had slashed at the students who recklessly jumped at it, sending many back as the class of 1A dodged so effortlessly. Many others had been following behind class 1A, like Shinsou who was staying back.

I shook my head and tried to concentrate and tried maintaining the mist around its legs. My arms began to shake a bit but I closed my eyes and looked back at the mecha. I tried making it travel higher than the ankle but my arms began to shake again. I had to keep it at its feet or else my quirk would disappear.

The mecha began to move again, swiping at the students and some of class 1A got pushed back. I closed my eyes as the wind that the mecha had produced came directly towards me. Kneeling down, I tried grabbing at the ground as I saw something slide next to me. I looked over, trying to open my eyes and saw a familiar curly-haired boy looking at me with surprise, his body straightening up as he called out,

“Y/n?!” I looked over, gaze fixated on him until it shifted to the mecha again.

“Focus,” I told him. He didn’t respond so I assume he had been looking somewhere else.

“Can you bring up the mist, Y/n?” I stayed quiet and tried moving the mist again but my arms started to shake again. I tried maintaining it again but it caused a huge shock wave of pain through my body that made my mist retract.

“D-dammit!” I cursed under my breath.

“Y-y/n-”

“Don’t worry about me! You guys need to take it down!” His started face, when I looked at him, did take me by surprise. He looked worried or maybe something was going through his mind, I wasn’t sure honestly. I still cared for him but it is not the right time. I'm sure he wanted to pass just like I did and standing here talking about it is not helping whatsoever.

The more time passes, the more aggressive it seems to be. So many students have been flung against the concrete of the stadium, many of which were injured pretty badly.

“Deku, you have a plan,” I asked him. He didn’t say anything. The mecha began to move now a little and I yelped, feeling my arms as if they were getting pulled with every step back it took.

“I-i’m sorry! I have nothing at the moment!” This was not his fault. I know how hard it can be. Looking at this machine has me very perplexed. I can’t think of anything either.

Suddenly there was a cloud of smoke that busted in front of us and someone rolled to me and hit me, making me lose control of my quirk and let the mecha free. Izuku quickly came my way but stopped once he saw the person stand up, growling loudly as he positioned himself in a fighting stance.

“That damn piece of metal thinks it can stop me?!’“ He had said. I sat up, holding my arm in pain, lightly rubbing it as the blonde in front of me ranted on. Izuku ran to me but I stopped him by lifting my hand up to signal to him to focus. The blonde hadn’t taken notice until Izuku stopped close to him and glared at the boy. I already felt his tongue sharpening to say something but Izuku’s eyes weren’t on him so it made him turn around to look down at me, his confused and angry face showing even more irritation than he already showed.

“Deku, we need to slow it down,” Ignoring Katsuki as I told Izuku, making the blonde even angrier.

“Hah! So they let you at this school too?” Katsuki said which of course meant he wanted to start arguing with me. I didn’t want to start off with him this way. Its been too long and I am not sure how my heart will take it. Not now, please.

“I don’t need you losing focus too Bakugou!” I shouted at him. I quickly got up, struggling to stay standing.

“Clearly you can’t even stand up straight!”

“I wonder who’s fault was that.”

“You think I wanted to land on you, you dweeb?!”

“Guys! It’s not the time,” Shouting out, Izuku glared at us but it only fueled him more.

“Whatever. Stay out of my way, Y/n. If I remember correctly, you couldn’t even protect yourself from others with weaker quirks than yours, so do us all a favor and quit.” I didn’t say anything to him. I know if I stay quiet, I will let him win but I don’t care. I was here to try to impress him but I realize now that it is only satisfying my desire to get noticed when I should be working to better myself for my own progress. I could not let Katsuki see me less. I already think that about myself but I can’t let anyone do it to me again, especially not him.

This whole time, Izuku looked away. He didn’t try to defend me and he didn’t show anything that made him think that Katsuki’s statement was false. It's true I could not beat other students but I always said I would never want to hurt someone else even if it required it. Even if I tried to, I couldn’t. I truly felt even more alone than I have ever felt before.

I looked around, trying to find some of my classmates, and sure enough, some of them were standing in a group and so I walked over to them. I was a bit wobbly but I managed. I'm not sure if I heard right but I heard a very irritated ‘tch’ coming from Katsuki who now walked away in the opposite direction towards the mecha.

Maybe it was wrong for me to think he would have respected me even as a student of this school. I was wrong.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #i was here bakugou ff

[the-captains-ayebrows]

Deck the Halls - CSSS 2K19

Getting in just under the wire (it’s still Christmas in my time zone anyway!), but here I am with a fluffy little enemies-to-lovers (ish) one-shot for the amazing and delightful @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ It sounded like you had a rough start to your holidays, dear, but I hope your Christmas has been the merriest! I’m a bit rusty at this writing business, but I do hope you enjoy your gift. 

Rated: G; Word Count: ~2700

~~~~~CSSS2K19~~~~~

“He made cookies, Mary Margaret. Homemade. From scratch. How could I possibly not hate him?”  

Emma glared across the teacher’s lounge at the man in question. Killian Jones. Music teacher, expert classroom decorator and apparently on the short list for the next Great British Bake-off. As she looked back to her best friend for moral support, it occurred to Emma that she’d never before realized a person could sip tea sarcastically.

“You’re right,” Mary Margaret replied. “I mean what next? Caroling through the corridors? Oh wait! He already did that with my Kindergartners, didn’t he?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the reminder.” Yes, Killian Jones had in fact led the Storybrooke Prep kindergartners singing merrily through the halls. And yes, it had been absolutely freaking adorable. 

She dunked an admittedly delicious homemade gingerbread man into her coffee, then bit its head off. “I don’t see why he has to be such a show off. It’s not like he can actually win the contest. He doesn’t have his own class, you know? Not really.”

“Maybe he’s just really into Christmas?” Mary Margaret shrugged. “Honestly, I think you may be taking this whole ‘Deck the Halls’ contest a bit too seriously.” 

“Says last year’s winner.”

“Or maybe there’s more to your fixation on Mr. Jones than just this contest?”

“Don’t start. It’s only about the contest. I wanna know what his evil plan is, that’s all.”

Ah, the annual Deck the Halls contest. Every homeroom teacher at Storybrooke was enthusiastically encouraged by the school principal to decorate their classroom door and hallway in festive winter style. The winning teacher’s class got some kind of prize, usually a special field trip. This year, students would be treated to a Polar Express themed ride on Storybrooke’s fully restored historic steam train. The kids could wear their pajamas and drink hot chocolate while they watched the snowy town pass by, and at the end of the ride, they’d get a chance to meet “Santa”. Emma’s fifth graders all seemed to think themselves too grown up for such a thing, but still… A little Christmas magic never hurt anyone.

Mary Margaret finished her tea and gave Emma’s shoulder a maternal pat. “Time to go pick up my little guys from the cafeteria.”

After her friend left, Emma let her gaze drift back to the object of her ire. Mary Margaret was right. Emma was definitely taking the contest too seriously, but that Killian Jones was just so damn infuriating. Ever since he’d transferred - no, swaggered - in from Misthaven Prep, he’d been the bane of her existence. He and his stupidly perfect hair. And his ridiculous flirty comments. And his stupid, ridiculous, unreasonably attractive face. The man may as well have had a banner over his head that read, “I’m sexy and I know it.” 

That was bad enough, but then came the first day of school after Thanksgiving break. Emma walked her class to Mr. Jones’s room for their music lesson to find he’d decorated the entire fine arts hallway to look like a giant gingerbread house with lights, human-sized gingerbread people and enough craft glitter to choke a reindeer. Between that and the caroling and the freaking cookies, how was anyone supposed to compete? 

And Emma really, really wanted to win. She had a competitive streak, sure, but it was more than that. It was-

Oh, crap. He caught her looking. And there he went with the eyes and the smile, and oh god he’s walking over to her. 

“Swan! I noticed you’ve been sampling my goodies. Fancy the flavor?”

Emma bristled. Killian Jones had a unique ability to say perfectly innocent things and somehow make them sound dirty. And also vaguely appealing, but that was beside the point.

“A little bland for my taste,” she lied. “They needed more cinnamon.”

“So the lady likes things a bit spicy. Duly noted.” He grinned at her, eyes alight with mischief. That smile of his was infectious - like the plague, Emma told herself - and she fought against the instinct to return it.

“My spice preferences are none of your business, Jones.” 

“Quite right, Swan.” He glanced downward, seeming appropriately chastised, but it only lasted an instant. He flashed those devilish blue eyes at her again with a wicked smirk to match. “Spicing up your life would be my pleasure, not business at all.”

Emma felt the blush begin to rise up from the back of her neck. It was bad enough that he could make her blush. She sure as heck didn’t want him knowing that.

She managed an unimpressed lift of her eyebrows and muttered something vague about picking up her class, before turning on her heel and exiting the lounge. At a perfectly calm and casual pace, thank you very much. 

—-

Later that afternoon, Emma sat at her desk grading papers. Or rather, sat behind a stack of papers that needed to be graded while staring around her classroom in an attempt to visualize a masterful decorating theme. Ugly Christmas sweater? No, that’d be a hot mess. Frozen? No, Ms. Arendelle the art teacher was already doing that. The Nutcracker? Nope. Mary Margaret won with that one last year. 

A knock on her door shook Emma out of her Grinchy brooding. “Ms. Swan? Can I come in?” Without waiting for a reply, Henry Mills barged in with an anxious smile on his face and a stack of printer paper clutched in his hand. “You said you’d read over my writing sample, remember?”

Emma pushed aside her grading and took the proffered essay. “How’s the scholarship application coming along?”

“The Sisters are doing most of the paperwork for me,” Henry answered. “I just need one more recommendation letter from a teacher and then my essay.”

The “Sisters” meant the nuns who ran the group home where Henry lived. It wasn’t the posh life that most of Henry’s classmates at Storybrooke Prep enjoyed, but the nuns cared deeply for the children in their charge. A better situation at least than Emma ever had during her years in the foster system. 

Emma read through the essay, all about the power of storytelling and how Henry aspired to be an author someday. He was capable of great things, that kid, but he needed the scholarship to pay his tuition so he could continue on at Storybrooke. 

“This is wonderful, Henry. I’m sure the scholarship board will approve you.” 

“Thanks, Ms. Swan.” Henry beamed at her for a moment, then glanced back toward her undecorated door. “Are you going to enter Deck the Halls this year? The judging is on Monday, right?”

Emma narrowed her eyes and leaned toward him as if confiding a secret. “Sure am. I’m just waiting until Monday morning so it’s a surprise.” Yeah, that sounded plausible, right?

Henry nodded, unconvinced. “It’s just that, well, I was really hoping our class could win this year. I’ve never been in a class that won before.” His focus shifted to a chipped spot on the edge of her desk. “I know it’s more for the little kids. I mean, it’s not like I believe in Santa anymore or anything, it’s just…” he picked at the chip making it worse. “The Sisters can’t really afford to take us anywhere, you know? And I thought it might be kind of fun to ride a real steam train and meet Santa just like in The Polar Express.”

He met Emma’s eyes finally. She knew that look. The I-want-to-be-a-part-of-something look. The I-want-to-be-a-regular-kid look. Her heart twinged with the familiarity. That. That right there was why she needed to win this year.

“Don’t worry, Henry. I’ll get you that train ride.”

—-

That Friday after school, Emma hit the local craft store. She bought tinsel and bows, little strings of lights and fake snow spray, garlands and non-breakable plastic ornaments. She even bought a sprig of freeze dried mistletoe for good measure. Come Monday morning, she had every intention of turning her hallway into a winter wonderland. 

As she and Mary Margaret walked to Emma’s classroom Monday morning, their arms laden with shopping bags, it quickly became clear that they were too late. Someone had beaten them to it.

Emma nearly dropped her parcels. “What the hell is this?” 

Wide-eyed, Mary Margaret took a hesitant step toward Emma’s classroom door. “I’d say it’s a train.”

Emma took in the sight before her, the initial shock slowly morphing into anger. Her classroom door had transformed into the front of a huge black steam engine, featuring a smoke stack that nearly reached the ceiling and a cardboard cow catcher protruding out at the bottom. Black duct tape train tracks laid neatly from the door clear to the end of the hallway. Blue butcher paper covered the walls on either side of the door setting a backdrop for a winter forest scene, complete with three dimensional evergreens made from layers upon layers of construction paper and fluffy white batting for snow drifts. Delicate tissue paper snowflakes had been hung painstakingly from the ceiling.

The Polar Express. Someone had turned her classroom - hell, half her hallway - into the Polar Express. It was beautiful. Perfectly executed. Emma hated it. 

She hated it because she didn’t need anyone’s help. She had it under control. Okay, so maybe her craft skills were not in the same league, but she had determination, damn it. Not to mention six bags of tinsel which she now had to shove into her supply closet for next year.

She hated it even more because she had a pretty good idea who the perpetrator was. There were only two teachers in the school capable of that level of Pinterest-worthy crafting, and since Mary Margaret looked as stunned as Emma, that only left Killian Jones. The one thing she couldn’t figure out was why he’d done it. 

“Looks like someone is trying to impress you, Emma,” Mary Margaret said with a sly smile. 

Emma shook her head. She couldn’t deal with her friend’s needling right now. She wanted to storm over to the music room right away and interrogate him, but she knew she needed to cool down first. Rationally, she told herself that the whole reason she became so invested in this silly contest was for Henry’s sake, and these decorations were sure to win. Irrationally, she simply did not want to deal with Killian’s smug, perfect face and whatever double entendre he was sure to throw her way. 

But it bugged her all day. 

Was Jones trying to be some kind of white knight swooping in to save her ass? Well too bad, mister. No one saved Emma but Emma. Did he want two chances to win? That didn’t make sense. As music teacher, he didn’t have a homeroom class so the prize didn’t apply to him. Maybe it was just the bragging rights? That could be. That was way more likely than Mary Margaret’s suggestive suggestion. Wasn’t it? 

She had to stop that train of thought right away before she devolved into the ten year-old mentality of her students and sent him a note: “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” Not that she thought he actually did. Not that she would want him to. It was only a point of curiosity. 

—-

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Emma’s classroom won the Deck the Halls contest. She waved sheepishly at her students as she walked to the front of the school assembly to accept the prize tickets from Principal Hopper, but one look at Henry’s bright smile had her grinning for real. 

As she scanned the crowd, her eyes locked onto another face. Jones’s bright blue eyes met hers with an unreadable expression. Wasn’t this his moment of triumph? Wasn’t he going to claim the glory? She raised her brows in question at him. Was it you? He gave a small nod. Yes. She subtly bobbed her head to the side. Meet me outside. The whole silent conversation only took a couple of seconds. 

After the assembly ended, the students were dismissed for the day. A small group of teachers herded them outside to the bus lanes, but Emma noticed Jones wasn’t among them. Her stomach began to flutter as she ducked out a side door from the cafeteria. She shivered when the crisp December air touched her face and shrugged on her coat, thankful she’d remember to bring it to the assembly with her. Why did she feel nervous? No, she wasn’t nervous, she just wanted answers. Right.

Emma heard the door creak open again, and Jones stepped out clad in a black leather jacket  that couldn’t have been much insulation against the winter chill, but did a marvelous job of framing his broad shoulders and lean torso. He looked… wait, did he look nervous, too? She needed to say something. Anything. Right now.

“What the hell, Jones?” Okay. Solid start. “You hijack my classroom, but you don’t take credit for it. I don’t get it. Did I seem like I needed saving? Because I’ve got news for you, buddy-”

“I didn’t do it for you, Swan,” he interrupted. 

“Then why?”

“I did it for Henry Mills.”

For Henry? Her student? Emma blinked at him, trying to formulate a response to this twist, but all that came out was. “What?”

“I happened to overhear your conversation with him last week. I had written him a letter of recommendation for his scholarship application, and I was bringing it to him when I noticed him going into your classroom. I figured I would wait outside your door until he finished talking to you. I wasn’t eavesdropping exactly, but the door was open.”

“So you heard him talk about why he hoped our class would win. And just what? Took it upon yourself to make that happen?” 

“Aye.” He ducked his head, looking almost shy. “I suppose the lad reminds me a bit of myself. I shan’t go into detail, but suffice to say my childhood was less than idyllic.”

Emma huffed a laugh. “I know the feeling.”

A tiny smile tilted the corner of Killian’s lips. “I thought you might. At any rate, the thing that made my young life bearable was my brother, specifically his insistence that no matter what, we would have a special Christmas. I simply wanted to be able to do the same for young Henry. I apologize if I overstepped, but a bit of Christmas magic never hurt anyone, did it?”

He reached up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, and that right there did it. The vulnerability of that simple gesture shifted something into place in Emma’s heart. She regarded him for a second longer, looking for any trace that this was an act, but could find none. So, she raised up on her toes, placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him softly on the lips.

Killian froze at the contact, and Emma was sure she’d made a terrible mistake, but then his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. He returned her kiss with exuberance, smiling against her mouth. Oh, god she’d never in her life been kissed like this. For all the sin his lips usually promised, this kiss held more joy than lust and an almost unbearable sweetness. His smile lingered even as they separated again.

Emma shook her head in a bit of a daze. “Wow, that was…” He seemed to stop breathing, waiting for her to finish the sentence. “-really unprofessional of me. Sorry.” Emma cleared her throat, but saw Killian’s expression droop. He took a step back.

“Of course. You’re right, Swan. That will ne-”

She reached out and touched his arm, halting his retreat.  “No, what I meant to say was, would you maybe want to get a cup of coffee with me sometime?”

No display of Christmas lights could have been brighter than the way his eyes lit up for her, and Emma thought fleetingly that she could get used to basking in that glow.

“Aye, Swan. I’d love to have coffee with you.”

----

On the day of the Polar Express trip, Emma’s class had an extra chaperone along for the ride. Emma served hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and cinnamon, while Killian passed out homemade cookies, and soon even the most blasé fifth graders were filled with Christmas spirit. A little Christmas magic never hurt after all. 

#csss2k19 #cssecretsanta2019 #cs ff #cs christmas fic #cs au ff #whimsicallyenchantedrose

[faulty-writes]

Can I get a Katsuki request where y/n is a slight hot head like katsu but she’s really small and nobody takes her seriously until she lashes out at a villain. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense

[Kind of strayed away from the plot a little. But I hope you like it!] 

There were various misconceptions about the physical qualities it takes to be a hero. More often than not when asked to describe the perfect hero, most would say someone who is tall, strong, and brave. All Might was often used as a perfect depiction of what a hero should look like, but you on the other hand disagreed. 

You had grown up with a love for heroes and there was nothing more in this world that you wanted than to be one. To have people scream your name in thanks for saving the day. But as you grew older and discovered the reality of your goal, there also came the reality of how people viewed you. Despite the fact you were taller than Mineta, your classmates often commented on your height and stature regardless. 

You happened to the shortest girl in your class and given your small stature, you were also depicted as the least muscular and built. Though most female heroes didn’t focus too much on their muscles and preferred to use their brain and quirk. It still angered you, what was so wrong with being tiny? Yeah, you felt like an ant compared to everyone else and a part of you even felt intimated that others made fun of your physical appearance. 

It got old, especially during training when you were called to demonstrate your quirk and combat skills. Giggles and comments would come, mostly from the boys. Kirishima would always comment, “Let’s see what the cute little girl can do.” and Sero would jump in, “Yeah, I bet there’s some advantage to being that small and adorable.” you tried to ignore their words, even if they made you feel self-conscious.

Still, you remained focused on your goal. To be a hero and on more than one occasion you had gotten the opportunity, only to have it snatched away by another classmate. You were beginning to get frustrated, thinking that there would be no chance to prove yourself. Even with your slight anger issues which caused people to laugh, thinking you were more humorous than angry. You still couldn’t prove your worth. 

But that didn’t stop you from volunteering for missions, most of which found you and your classmates as Class 1-A seemed to be the primary target for villain attacks. Aizawa had organized a class lesson that involved practicing patrol. There would be three teams and each one was assigned a location within Tokyo. Your team consisted of Bakugo, Jiro, Kirishima, and yourself. 

You were dressed in your hero attire and frankly, you were beginning to get bored walking the strip of downtown Tokyo. A rather populated area and you were getting a little annoyed that even civilians seemed to point and comment about your small stature. Gees, could anyone give it a rest? You knew it was bad when people you didn’t even know commented on the very same thing your classmates did. 

Well, on the other hand. You knew you must have looked strange compared to your classmates, the runt of the litter. You sighed and Kirishima laid his hand on your back, “Something wrong y/n?” he asked and you turned to look at him with a pout. “Yeah …” you said, “Just tired of everyone commenting how small I am.” Kirishima grinned at your words and reached up to ruffle your hair. 

“Aw, come on! They’re only telling the truth. You’re cute and small, nothing wrong with that.” you growled and smacked his hand away, “What the hell did you say!?” poison dripping from your words and Kirishima flew back, his hands up to guard himself in case you decided to try and hit him again. “Uh ...nothing, nothing!” he claimed before a scream echoed through the air. 

“It’s time to end your argument! Something’s up!” Jiro said as she ran off with Bakugo, you and Kirishima followed behind. The scream led you to a back alley and you frowned, “Nothing more than a classic snatch the purse crime, wonderful …”  you rolled your eyes before Kirishima slammed his hands together, his quirk activated. “Small crime or not, it’s still a bad guy. Time to teach them a lesson,” he said as he approached the hooded figure. 

They almost looked like a phantom, dressed in a dark brown robe and they were floating above the ground. The woman’s purse in their long claw-like fingers. “Hey man, you wanna put that down and come with us?” Kirishima asked before Bakugo snapped. “You’re not supposed to ask them if they wanna come, DUMBASS.” the blond kicked off the ground and reeled his hand back, ready to land an explosion on the phantom villain. 

But as he got close, a loud screech filled the air. “Fuck!” you hissed as you covered your ears which were left ringing when the noise disappeared. “What the hell was that!?” Bakugo grumbled from his position on the ground, that screech having knocked him back. “I don’t know, but it’s clear we can’t land on a hit on them if they keep that up,” Jiro commented and you clenched your jaw. 

Ready to attack but Jiro’s arm came out, blocking your way. “Why don’t you leave this to us?” she suggested and you snapped, “What!?” your hands curled into fists, “That’s not fair! Stop saying that because I’m small! I’m just as tough as the next hero!” you replied, but Jiro shook her head and ran off to join Kirishima and Bakugo in their fight. You grumbled and crossed your arms over your chest. 

Their fight proved to be useless and you began to count how many times they were knocked back onto the ground which now had cracks and holes in it from their bodies. You sighed and reached up, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Can I try now …” you muttered but didn’t wait for an answer as you approached the floating figure. 

Fueling all your rage, you pointed your finger at them. “Think you’re so damn tough huh!? You can’t even stand your own two feet, let alone actually land a punch to send them flying back! YOU FUCKING USELESS VILLAIN!” you began, feeling that fire built in your stomach. You had never demonstrated your quirk to anyone, perhaps a few times, but they merely thought it was nothing more than a fire quirk, similar to Todoroki’s. 

But, it was a tad different. Your screaming continued and the villain slowly began to back away, either afraid or just plain annoyed at you. Jiro, Kirishima, and Bakugo stood in awe. Watching a small human face off with a villain, even in a shouting match was impressive. “JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY, PIECE OF SHIT!” you growled as the ground shook around you and small beams of fire escaped your mouth. 

You took a breath and leaned back, “FUCK OFF!!!!” you screamed one last time as a powerful red beam erupted from your lips, it was so bright your teammates had to cover their eyes and the heat that radiated off of it could be compared to that of Dabi’s. They were just lucky they weren't the ones that were getting the direct blast of it. The beam faded after a few minutes and you were left standing there, smoke coming from your lips and the inside of your mouth felt burnt but it was worth it. 

You panted, reaching up to wipe your lips as you watched the villain slump against the brick wall and fall to the ground. They had returned to their normal form, some unknown face. Their clothes were ripped to shreds and burn marks covered them, blood was seeping from their wounds, but you felt no pity. You merely walked over, grabbing the woman’s purse that had fallen to the ground and turned to her. 

She trembled as you approached, “Here you go.” you said and she hesitantly grabbed her purse before running, which left you blinking. “Huh, that’s weird ...I’m not that scary am I?” you questioned as you looked to your teammates who were all wearing dumbfounded expressions. “What?” you questioned, but they weren’t the only ones who were surprised. When you returned to school the next day, stories of your quirk and what you did spread. 

Some people doubted what you did, but Kirishima always insisted he wasn’t lying and that you were an amazing hero, for someone so small. But from that day on, there were very little people who dared to make fun of you and frankly, you liked it that way. All Might or not, you were strong in your own way and that’s something people wouldn’t soon forget. 

Even Bakugo had acknowledged you, a few days later. “Hey ...” you turned when you heard his voice, he looked at you with a sheepish expression. “I just wanted to say, well ...you did a good job back there! And well ...I COULD HAVE DONE THAT TOO! But ...I guess you’re a good hero.” you blinked, chuckling soon after. 

“Oh?” you teased, “I’m glad you think so,” you said as you looked up at him. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head,” he commented before reaching over to grab your hand. “Come on, let’s get lunch or something.” he insisted as he guided you towards the cafeteria, two hot head’s having lunch together would be quite the sight. 

#Anonymous #bnha fanfiction #bnha reader insert #bnha requests

[rboooks]

Based on the wonderful fic C’est La Vie   by the ever talented @cywscross. I just love the fic so much and I am very late to the fandom but whatever.  

AU: Had Hadrian had arrived a little earlier and Fate had given him a different back story. 

Orion Black had not noticed the new store until it’s opening day. 

He had been passing by with his Father who was ever so excited about buying Orion his Hogwarts supplies, insisting they needed to beat the crowds and go the moment the owl dropped it off at their home. (He knows the real reason, of course, being werewolves made it difficult to shop and “beating the crowds” was another way of saying “Avoid large amounts of discrimination”. He let his father think he wasn’t aware though) 

Orion couldn’t work up the energy to match Father’s enthusiasm. His first year of Hogwarts was everything and nothing like he expected it to be. He knew he would meet students who would not like him for his condiction but he had hope that he could make some kind of friends. Naive as it was, he went there with the desire to find the kind of best mates his Father had found among the magical castle walls.  

That hope had been shoot down the moment the headmaster announced what he was. Harry, always eager to put Orion in his place, jumped at the chance to turn everyone against him until it felt like he was sitting behind enemy lines no matter where he was.

 Add to the fact, he was sharing a room with Harry and his new idiot best friends not to mention the open hostility Weasley and Longbottom showed when drawing that line. Orion could honestly say he hated every second of his schooling.

Throughout the year, the eleven-year-old encountered some kids who seem friendly at first, but it all had ended up as a prank, often with Harry as the mastermind behind them. It was eye-opening, in a twisted so of way, to realize just how the world saw him. 

A part of him wanted nothing more than to burn the second year Hogwarts letter and never return. But he was no coward. He would not run away from reality. He was a Gryffindor after all, and he would endure these next six years like he did his first. (Maybe, just maybe this year will be different? First years wouldn’t be told of his status...maybe one of them would like him) 

“’ Rion? Would you like to go get your books first or some new robes?” Father called, smile soft but the corners of his eyes strain with distress when his son did nothing more than stare at him for a few seconds before shrugging.

All summer long, the young werewolf had spoken as minimum as he could, shut away in his room. He’s always been a bit reserved and socially awkward but never to these levels.

Orion knew his parents were worried, had known each time they came over during the full moons. They tried their best to cheer him up, to get him to talk but even that took the levels of energy he just wasn’t feeling anymore. Each passing day at Hogwarts caused him to shrink further in on himself in order to protect what little Orion could of his heart and now, well into the summer he seem unable to unshrink. Not even for his parents’ sake. 

“Well, how about-”  

Whatever Father was going to say was lost on Orion, because his attention had been taken by a new store. The one that had just open with no pre-warning. (Magic buildings tended to do that but they were at least advertise days beforehand in order to generate some kind of clientele).  

Or to be more precise Orion’s attention had been taken by the young boy standing in front of it, who was staring right back at him with wide eye astonishment. The boy was small, almost delicate face but painfully average and the only thing that really stood out were his green eyes. He was wearing Muggle brown trousers and a plain white shirt, a white apron was thrown over his outfit and a tray of little cups in his hands.

He must have been handing out samples. 

Orion sent him a sneer, suddenly angry that even here, even away from his classmates, other kids still stare at him like he shouldn't be real. 

The boy didn’t so much as blink. He returns the sneer with an intrigued look, unoffended in any kind of way before his eyes shift up to look at Father who had to realize Orion was no longer listening. It was only because he was watching that Orion caught the ripple of emotions that went over the boy’s face before it settles into a calm friendly glance.

“Is that one of your school friends?” Father asks a tad bit too eagerly. To Orion’s horror, he was already moving in the direction of the child even before finishing his question.

This seems to be all the approval the stranger needs, seeing as he straightens up, turning in their direction fully. Before he could state he had no friends, the boy left his post and was walking quickly in their direction.

It was almost a run, but the boy didn’t seem to waste a single step, graceful in a way that didn’t make sense. There might be a mistake, maybe the sounds of the always busy alley masking it, but he swore he couldn’t hear his footsteps either.  In only a matter of seconds, he was standing before Orion, holding out his little try.

“Free sample?”  The werewolf didn’t miss the way he seems to stare at him like he was drinking up his features. 

Orion said nothing staring back at him before his father cleared his throat an obvious sign he was disapproving of his manners.  “Um, what is it?”

“Dragon’s Breath. You stick the puffball in any of these flavors and blow smoke out while you eat” The boy said easily, and for a startling moment, he realizes he may not be all that young. In fact, they may even be near the same age despite how tiny this kid was.  “It’s really popular in the States.”

“Are you from the States?” Father asked taking the toothpick the boy offers and stabbing one of the puffs. He quickly dunks it in the white melted chocolate like Orion knew he would.  

“I’m from all over.” The kid answers staring up at him with an odd emotion in his eyes.  “My parents were curse breakers so the family traveled a lot.”

His eyes flicker to Orion.  “Would you like one?”

He doesn’t answer, and the air thickens with awkward stillness for a few seconds before Orion careful takes one of the puffs going for the caramel flavor. Luckily the other doesn’t seem all that offended, patiently giving him time to decide what he wanted. 

Once it’s in his mouth the flavor of caramel dances over his tongue, and he makes a small O with his lips as smoke rushes out. It’s not a little puff like he expected by a long white smoky breath of air that curls and flickers in the air. 

It’s kinda wicked.

His Father blows out his own smoke smiling. It’s as interesting watching as it is being the one to perform it. “Your dad would love this.”

The boy beams.  “We sell some take-home boxes with various flavors if you like to take him some? I’m Hadrian by the way. Hadrian Evans”

“Remus Lupin,” Father answers charmed by Evans. “This is my son Orion Black.”

If he’s curious about the different last names then Evans doesn’t show it. Instead, he bobs his head at him respectfully. “Nice to meet you”

Maybe this year was worst on him then he thought because Orion finds words falling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “I’m a werewolf.”

He waits for the fear, or the hatred aware his father has stiffened next to him but unwilling to look away from the green eyes. Evans doesn’t faze in the slightest instead, he raises a brow looking far too amused. “That’s nice. I’m a wizard myself”

He wonders if the bewilderment he feels is showing on his face. It was...such a lack of reaction even Father did a double take. What does one even say to that? 

Evans suddenly smiles, warm and friendly in equal parts, and Orion doesn’t know what to do in the glory of it.  “I like you.”

Is this what it feels like to be kicked in the chest?  

“Hadrian Evans!” A man’s voice suddenly cuts through the air, sharp with chiding. Evans winces, for the first time looking like a child. 

Walking towards them is an older looking Evans. He’s got long dark uncontrol hair, poorly pulled into a ponytail, like it was shoved there despite it not wanting to be. Loose stands swung rebelliously out, his green eyes aren’t nearly as bright at Evans, more moss then brilliant jewel but they are the same shapes.  

He’s older but far too young to be Evans father. A brother perhaps? 

His face is pulled into a nasty scowl. “Young man, what did I say about wandering off by yourself? You could have been kidnapped!”

“Sorry Will,” Evans tells...older Evans.  He gestures to the werewolves, his eyes seemed to convey another strange emotion.  “I just wanted to meet someone my age.”

Orion feels his face heat up as the older man cuts his gaze at him and Father, looking like he suddenly understands why Evans disobeyed him. For some reason, he is embarrassed by that. (From the corner of his eye he peaks up at his parent and is meet with gleeful amusement, beaming in parental pride. His face grows hotter)

“It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He huffs rubbing Evans’ hair roughly. He grins over at the werewolves open and friendly as Evans. “Sorry about him. He tends to ignore social rules. I’m Will Evans, this brat’s older brother.”

The pair of brothers invite them back to their shop, called Dimension Hoppers, which turns out to be a general store of various imported objects from all over the world. There are so many new things that Orion could barely choose where to look, Hadrien dragging him along pointing and explaining what each item was, with obvious enthusiasm. 

Especially when they came across the Ancient Runes section. Orion thinks that’s his new...friend?...favorite topic.

Obviously, he had some experience as a salesman, because he doesn’t flatter whenever Orion asks questions nor tries to push a sale. He just gives a general tour of all the allies as the grown-up talk up front.

Turns out Will was also a curse breaker, following his parents' footsteps. After their deaths, he gained guardship over Hadrian and had chosen to start a business using the family connects to supply rare objects from around the world, so he could be close by when Hadrien started Hogwarts. 

“He was going to homeschool me,” Hadrian says a few hours later walking with him as the pair finish shopping for their school supplies that weren’t sold in his brother's shop. 

Which were only like five things. Orion himself had most of his list finished there too. The prices were much fairer and his Father had been overjoyed that they could save some for new robes. 

“But I kinda always wanted to go to an actual school instead of being taught everything on the road, you know?”

He didn’t. But he also didn’t know how in the world he left Dimension Hoppers with an invitation to come back and hang out sometime before Hogwarts. Nor why in world, Will had passed him some Dragon Breath’s boxes on the house for his brother’s first friend on their way out.

His father wouldn’t stop smiling and...neither could he. Orion hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. He already couldn’t wait to see Hadrian again. 

Maybe his second year at Hogwarts won’t be all that bad after all.

#harry potter #C'est La Vie #Orion Black #Hadrian Evans #Au: Dimension Hoppers Store #Will is actaully Bill Weasley from the previous world #He woke as himself but the two preform a Blood Adoption to make him a Evans #He is upset his hair won't listen anymore but unwilling to give up long hair #Hadrian is out there making friends #Cover store as store owners #Orion may be Occ but that's due to him only facing one year of bullying instead of four #Remus misunderstood and now thinks Hadrian has a crush on his son #OrionXHadrian

[alienbwrites]

Scintilla (a spark or trace of something)

CHAPTER 2  Woebegone (Sorrowful, downcast)

Hayami was running late to class again, people would think that after six years of attending the ninja academy that she would have the capability of turning up to class on time. Running on top of the civilian houses Hayami raced against time to get to class. The thought of Iruka sensei scolding her for being late again made her legs push that little bit harder. A familiar giggle came from around the village, looking for the blond perpetrator she saw that he had painting the Hokage monument again.

She was secretly glad that the mischievous blond had decided to act up this morning it saved her from the scolding that he would no doubt get.

Reaching the academy she didn’t hear Iruka yelling so she still had some time. Scaling the wall she located one of the windows that led to her class. As carefully as she could she stood on the sill of the window and knocked on it hoping to gain anyone’s attention. When she saw Shikamaru look over at her she watched as he sighed before getting up and helping her climb through the window. It didn’t come to any of the students surprise that the young girl had come through the window. Over these past six years She had been late a lot.

Smiling a good morning to her saviour of the day, Shikamaru gave her another sigh before complaining that she was a troublesome girl. She ignored the statement and sat beside him. Hayami had just managed to sit down before a flash of blond, green and orange was thrown into the room tied up by rope.

Hayami started to zone out her teacher’s yelling opting for day dreaming instead. Her mind often got lost in itself dragging her into unknown locations with unknown people. She started to dream of a forest with mystical trees with falling flowers the pink and purple hues mixed with a glittering silver. A nudge from her side quickly drew her back.

“We have to re-do our transformation Jutsu” Hayami felt the annoyance fill her system. With a look at Shikamaru he sighed and motioned to Naruto answering her unasked question. Standing in line after Shikamaru she watched as Sakura completed the task before vying for Sasuke’s attention. She held an inwardly cringe as the boy ignored her and completed the test himself, huffing before walking to his own.

“Naruto Uzumaki” Hayami let out a soft groan whilst Shikamaru and Ino had complained outwardly. Everyone knew that he would do something stupid. Everyone in class watched as he transformed. The puff of smoke cleared and a naked grown up version of Naruto stood in his place making Iruka Sensei fall back from the blood rushing out of his nose. Hayami scoffed as she watched Naruto giggle already wishing for this day to end.

 Kaori had managed to arrive at the young girls home before she did he let himself into her home with the spare key she had given him. After six years of looking after Hayami he looked at her like a younger sibling. Someone he could help guide and nurture, both having similar back stories it was easy to relate to the young girl and help her in ways that he had never got. Making his way to the kitchen he set down his tools and shrugged off his vest leaving him in a black long sleeve and pants. He re-tied his hair back and got to work cooking himself and the girl dinner.

 Nearly done with the food The door burst open and Hayami came toppling in, seeming exhausted from her day. Hayami looked to the man in the kitchen and with a new burst of energy wrapped her arms around him. With a soft pat to her head she let go and set down her book bag by her front door,

“How was your day Hayami?” Kaori asked as Hayami set the dishes.

“It wasn’t too bad. We had to re-do our transformation Jutsu again because of Naruto” Out of the corner of the young girl’s eye she watched the older man grimace at the name of her classmate. “Which I passed again, then the rest of the day went by boringly. Then I decided to throw knives for a while and do some extra training after our lessons had finished” Hayami sat and watched the food be served before thanking Kaori for the food and digging in. Her after school training had been hard as she tried to up her physical side. She had good theory which was something that Kaori and Iruka had praised her for but putting that theory into practice was a bit of a challenge for her.

“Are you ready for your exam tomorrow?” Kaori asked watching the girl’s reaction for any faults. He could see uncertainty in her eyes before she shrugged. “How about I help you practise then?” The girl lit up and hurriedly finished her dinner.

 Hayami sat in class early for once which surpised some of her friends, she sat next to Choji tapping her foot against the ground as her nervousness sky rocketed. She saw Choji offer her some of his chips which she gladly took a couple wanting something to take her mind of the graduation test. Not even day dreaming was helping her, the thought of her failing kept coming to mind which only made her more nervous. She went to bed last night confident after Kaori and her had gone over everything possible. But her confidence came crashing down once she set her foot into the classroom.

“We are now going to begin the graduation test” Hayami could feel her stomache in her throat as Iruka Sensei spoke. “When your name is called make your way to the next class room. The test is on clone jutsu” A small speck of confidence made its way back into Hayami. At least she knew she could do this though she didn’t know how she would do under pressure. Hayami watched as some of her friends went before her, Shikamaru, Choji, Ino, Hinata and didn’t come back to the class. As her name was called she felt her self start to sweat, she had a constant loop of ‘you can do this’ going through her head trying to calm her self down in any slight way.

 Opening the door to the other class room she stood in front of Iruka Sensei and Mizuki Sensei. Hayami tok a deep breath before putting her hands in the correct position and calling out the Jutsu. Three clones poofed behind her and a breath had forced itself out of her lungs. Both sensei’s offered her a warm smile and offered her a leaf headband.

 Racing outside of the academy all Hayami felt was happiness seep deep into her bones she caught glimpses of her friends with their parents and she slowed down. Now a dark sadness started to move through her body. She looked at the leaf head band that she held onto not yet finding a place to tie it yet. She looked back at the other students and felt her eyes water a tad. The smiling faces of the children with their parents made a stabbing feeling start in her chest. Breathing had started to become difficult. Slowly and quietly she made her way past the crowd.

“Im so proud of you”

“Look ma I did it”

“Come on we will have a celebratory dinner, what would you like tonight?”

“You’ve done well, finally a ninja my boy”

Hayami felt so unbelievably alone, she refused to let her sobs escape her body. She didn’t have parents any more, she was alone. She made her way home and opened the door. It was quiet inside which only served to make her down mood deepen. She looked at the photo she had of her parents. Kaori had gone a couple of days after the attack to grab anything that might have made the girl happy. A couple of photos were untouched by the flames as well as a few weapons. Hayami stroked the image of her fathers face softly and sending a little prayer to him, hoping that she made him proud and that he was resting in peace.

 Hayami was a little disappointed that Kaori hadn’t made his way over by dinner time. She felt more alone then ever. Hayami decided that she would treat herself to some ramen as a reward for graduation, if no one else was going to be there for Hayami, Hayami was going to be there for herself. It was a little later then usual already dark out by the time she set off, she didn’t want to be out too late but she was a ninja now she had to have confidence in herself. The owner of the establishment did look at the young girl funny when she walked in on her own as her usual pair wasn’t with her but took her in anyway to eat.

It was very late by the time Hayami left the store deciding to help out the restaurant in anyway she could before she left. The owners were getting old and needed any help they could get. Walking home she could feel the heavy tension in the air as multiple ninja made their way around the place. Knowing it was better for her to stay out of it she dashed her way home.

 Sleeping well never came to Hayami not after the night of the attack. She cant remember the last time she had a full nights sleep though she was only a small child back then so who knows if she ever had a full nights sleep. The sounds coming from her kitchen woke her up, she assumed Kaori was in there making her breakfast. Hurt seeped back into her heart, ‘he would have a good reason for missing my graduation right?’ Hayami’s heart pounded as she got dressed for the day rubbing away the sleep from her eyes, making her way out of her room she saw what she had assumed, Kaori making her breakfast. He met her eyes and a thousand apologise left his mouth.

“I am so deeply sorry I missed your graduation Hayami, I got called for a minor mission that I wasn’t able to refuse, and it went for longer then I expected. I would have come to see you later, but we ran into some trouble last night” Hayami gave him a small smile and muttered a forgiveness, she knew these types of things would happen it was the life of a shinobi after all. “So did you graduate?” Hayami saw the excited sparkle in Kaori’s eyes and her hurt was replaced by giddiness and excitement as she shoved her upper left arm into his face. The head peace was tightly wrapped around it so that most of the material was used up. Kaori picked the small girl up and swung her around.

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Kaori stopped swinging the girl around and rested the palm of his hand on top of her head and gave her a warm smile.

Part 1

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#naruto #naruto story #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines #naruto x oc #naruto various #naruto imagine #sakura #sakura x oc #sasuke x oc #sasuke