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betweenthepages · 3 years

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Hold Me, Love Me; Dean Forester x Male! Reader

Warnings ⚠️ - mentions of rape, sexual assault

Summary: Dean has difficulty finding a mate due to being different to most omegas. But on one faithful night, he finds someone who will accept him for his differences and give him the life he deserves.

Word count: 3218

Being an omega wasn’t easy. You were the lowest in society, had the least power. If you were unmated, you had to deal alphas staring you down everywhere you went, pure hunger and lust in their eyes. It was sickening. However if you were Dean Forester, life was twice as difficult. Everyone figured he’d present as an alpha, with his steady build and towering height. When he was revealed to be an omega, there were mixed reactions. His friends and family were surprised, but they would accept him no matter what. On the other hand, he got looks of disgust from the townspeople. Omegas were meant to be small, pretty. Not like him.

Dean wished he had a mate. Someone to love him, take care of him and hopefully be the father of his future children. And if he found his soulmate, he’d finally be spared from men whistling at him on the streets or constantly looking over his shoulder while on a late night walk. No one would dare touch a mated omega. There were too many stories of alphas going on a possessive rage when another alpha dare even look at their mate for too long, sometimes it lead to death. Dean was stronger than most omegas, thank god for that but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Unfortunately, the chances of him finding an alpha were slim. No one could love someone like him, or at least that’s what he thought. Even though Dean’s body was different, his personality was very omega-like, something alpha’s would swoon over. He was shy and timid, easily startled. He had a look of innocence in his eye, which increased the common desire to wreck him. He was well mannered and had such a kind soul, always willing to help anyone who needed it. His heart was simply too big for his chest. Of course people took advantage of that sometimes, but he didn’t let a couple mishaps ruin his sweet nature.

Dean stared at the calendar on the wall, his face paling. His heat was in a week. And he was out of suppressants. Panic took over him as he realised he was supposed to start taking them today, as you have to take them every night a week before your heat for them to work. Shit shit shit. His eyes darted to the clock. 11:15 at night. Going out this late by himself was a death wish, but he had no choice. Going through a heat by yourself without medication was unbearable, and he wasn’t willing to go through that. He looked at his outfit in the mirror, making sure his clothes were baggy enough to cover every inch of his body, anything that might tempt alphas.

He took a deep breath, wiping his hands on his jeans. It was just a walk around the block to the pharmacy. Not too far. He’ll be there and back in no time. The icy wind brought goosebumps to his skin. There wasn’t anyone on the street at this hour, at least not anyone in sight. Sometimes alphas would hide in bushes or alleyways and pounce on unsuspecting omegas. The thought made him shudder. He increased his pace, following the light of the dimly lit street lamps.

So far so good. Just a little more and- fuck. There was a dimly lit alleyway he had to pass to get to the store. His blood ran cold. Fear churned in his gut staring into the dark abyss. Anything- anyone could be in there. Was he willing to take the chance? Come on you idiot, you’re just being paranoid. What are you, five? Just walk past it, no big deal. He was brave. He needed those meds, and he has to take the risk. He screwed his eyes shut, walking as fast as he could, ignoring his heart pounding in his chest. When he opened his eyes, he realised the alleyway was behind him. Unimaginable relief filled his chest. Of course there was no one there. He was just scared for nothing.

Suddenly, a pair of footsteps paced behind him. “Hey boys, look what we’ve got here.” His relief was short lived. Very, very short lived. His heart dropped. Four more pairs of footsteps followed. There were more of them. Dean’s first instinct was to run. But his legs felt weak, like he was frozen in place. He was rather agile, but there was a whole group of them. Surely one of them would catch up if he tried to escape. He turned around hesitantly, seeing five males about his age standing there, eyeing him hungrily. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out this late, hm?” The one in the middle, their leader seemingly, spoke up. Dean wished he could wipe off that disgusting smirk on his face.

“P-Please-” he took a step back, “what do you want? Money? I’ll give it you just leave me alone.” He felt tears well up. No matter how much he tried to reason with them, it was useless. “I think we’ve found our prey tonight.” He said calmly, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Get him.” It all happened so fast. Before he could process it, there were hands all over him, dragging him by the shirt, plunging him into the darkness. No one would find him here, no one would hear his cries for help. Besides, there wouldn’t be anyone else out this late to interfere. This couldn’t be happening. He prayed this was some nightmare and he’d wake up soon. But that wasn’t the case. He was truly helpless.

You sighed, looking up into the pitch black sky. No stars tonight. Pity, you usually liked stargazing in the park at this hour. You usually took long midnight strolls to clear your head. It worked too. An odd sense of peace filled the town’s atmosphere at this hour. Well, the atmosphere lasted until you caught a whiff of the air. A strong scent filled your nose, similar to stench of rain. Your eyes widened when you realised what it was. The smell of an omega in distress. And judging by how prominent it was, the poor thing was in a lot of danger. Most people would’ve turned back and went home, not wanting to get in any trouble. But you couldn’t stand the thought of turning around and acting like nothing happened when someone’s life could be on the line. Doesn’t matter what their status was, they needed help.

You sniffed the air again and you ran to the direction it was coming from. You really hoped you got there in time before something bad happened. Thankfully it wasn’t far, just around the street corner. As you got closer, you realised it was coming from a dark alleyway. Oh. You had a pretty good guess of what was happening right now. You’d heard countless stories of omegas being attacked in places like this. It boiled your blood thinking some alphas could take advantage of others just because of their biological status, something no one could control.

Loud whimpers filled your ears, and in the darkness you could make it a few bodies surrounding a large figure. Your fist clenched. Red filled your vision. It was all a blur. You ran up to one of the guys, knocking him out with one punch. Two others tried to jump on you, but you sent them flying to the wall. You swore you heard a crack at the impact. “G-Guys let’s go.” The group leader figured messing with you wasn’t a good idea. They didn’t hesitate to flee, picking up their unconscious friend along the way.

Now they were out of the way, you had to deal with the figure hunched over on the ground. “Hey-” you reached out a hand, but the person panicked, scambling against the wall. Fear pheromones wafted in the air. You crouched down to their level, slowly inching towards the trembling form. “Shh, I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be scared.” Your voice sounded so soft, so genuine, Dean looked up to make eye contact.

Something shifted in you when you gazed into those chocolate orbs. You couldn’t explain the feeling, exactly, only it was intense. And warm. All your senses screamed to you, ‘mate!’ You were stunned. He wished he inflicted more damage on those boys before they left. This was your mate, sitting here in a cold dark alleyway with the living daylights scared out of him. Dean experienced the feeling as well, only afterwards he felt shame. His alpha found him like this, in a pitiful state almost taken by other people. He was weak, easy to use. He whimpered, making your heart clench. Your mate instinct made you want to comfort him, take him into your arms and tell him everything’s alright, that you were here and no one was going to hurt him. But you couldn’t. Not now, at least. The boy had almost been attacked, and now he found his mate. He needed to process the situation.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” You asked gently, hoping the petname would coax him a little. “D-Dean. My name’s Dean.” He sniffled. “I’m (Y/N). Listen, do you want to go back to my place? It’s not too far from here. I won’t try anything, I promise. It’s probably closer than your and I suppose you might need some company tonight.” You looked at him hopefully. “Yes please.” He agreed quietly. You practically saved his life. And you were his mate. He wanted to be near you. “Are you hurt?” You asked worriedly, looking for any injuries. He shook his head no, there were just a couple bruises here and there, nothing too serious. “You’re shivering,” you frowned, wrapping your jacket around him. His eyes widened. He was completely enveloped in your scent. You smelt like cinnamon and honey. It put his mind to ease, calming him immediately.

You took his hand and helped him to his feet, extending an arm to him. He gladly took it, walking close to you. He’d just met you, but you made him feel so safe. You observed his facial features under the moonlight. He was so beautiful. He didn’t look like any other omega you’ve seen before though. He a bit taller than you, admittedly a subtle blow to your ego. But it was cute. The walk home was relatively quiet, understandably so. He was still a little shaken up from what happened, you couldn’t expect to him to act calm.

Your apartment was rather large even though you lived by yourself. You saw Dean looking around the place in awe, which had you biting back a smile at how adorable he was. You thoroughly enjoyed the thought of having him around often. Newly mated couples tended to move in together one or two days after they met because being seperated wasn’t good for their mental state. “Sit down.” You motioned to the coach. He did as told with his hands in his lap, looking up at you shyly through his brown locks. You took your place next to him, wondering where to go from here. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” You asked. He shook his head no. “There’s some soup in the fridge I can heat up for you. You can go shower in the meantime. I’ve got some clothes that might fit. How does that sound?” He nodded. “Thank you.” He said quietly. “No problem.” You smiled back, motioning him to follow you.

The hot water was therapeutic in easing Dean’s tense muscles. An almost disaturous night was slowly turning out for the better. He had a mate- an extremely handsome alpha. The thought made him giddy. Plus you were so, so nice. So far you’d welcomed him to your home and let him borrow your clothes and made him food. You were able to protect him. Nonetheless, he didn’t have time to swoon now, not when dinner had yet to be served. He admired himself in the mirror in the clothes he picked for you. Just a simple black hoodie and sweatpants. They were a little big but he loved them because they were yours.

You had his back turned to him when he entered the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove. You felt a presence behind you, your eyes landing on the omega. “Food’s almost done.” You said gently. He nodded but stayed put, interested in seeing you cook. “Can I watch you?” Dean asked, fiddling with his sleeve. “Sure thing.” Your next action took him by surprise. He gasped as you lifted him effortlessly and placed him on the countertop, his long legs dangling off the edge.

“So, Dean... How old are you?” You asked, wanting to know more about the boy who’d hardly spoken a full sentence the whole night. “I’m seventeen.” Ah, you’d be just one grade above him. “Oh, I’m eighteen. Do you work anywhere? What do major in?” “I work in a café. My dream job would be to work with animals though. I’m a biology major.” You hummed. The room went silent for a bit. Dean felt like the conversation was all about him and he wasn’t cooperating enough. You’d done so much for him so far and he couldn’t get a word out. He was nervous. Nervous about saying the wrong thing, nervous about rambling. He knew deep down you wouldn’t make fun of him, but his anxiety said otherwise.

“Soup’s ready.” You said, carrying two bowls to the dining table, Dean following suite. The two of you ate in silence, stealing occasional glances at each other. “It’s really good.” Dean said. You smiled warmly. “Glad you like it.” You were genuinely trying your best to make him comfortable and get him to open up. You didn’t want your mate feeling anxious around you.

He helped you with the dishes and before you knew it, it was time for bed. Despite his protests you insisted on taking the couch. As much as you wanted to hold him and cuddle all night, you respected his boundaries. Currently you were seated on the couch since you wanted to discuss something with him. “Dean, do you want to talk about what happened tonight? You don’t have to, but it might make you feel better.” You asked gently, squeezing his hand. Tears welled up in his eyes recounting earlier events. The sheer terror he felt at that moment was indescribable.

“I-I was going to the pharmacy for some medication,” he sniffled, “and those alphas came out of nowhere. I know it my fault for going out that late b-but I really needed those pills and...” If you’d never felt the urge to kill someone, you did now. But you needed to control your anger and comfort your mate. “Sweetie no, this isn’t your fault at all. You shouldn’t have to avoid going out and night just because some bastard alphas can’t keep it in their pants.” He looked up at you, eyes bloodshot with tear tracks running down his cheeks, a sight that made your heart clench. “Can I have a hug alpha?”

“Of course you can.” You brought him to your welcoming arms, Dean burying his face into your chest. You rested your chin on his head, faintly catching the whiff of strawberry shampoo. “Thank you. For everything. For saving me, for letting me stay with you...” His voice came muffled from your shirt. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe with me now. I’ll protect you.”

━━━━━━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━━━━━━

Panic filled Dean when he woke up in a stranger’s bed, unable to recognise anything in the room. Where was he? How did he get here? The bed sheets smelt awfully familiar. Slowly, everything that happened last night came rushing back to him. It occurred to him that he was lying in your bed. His heart swelled at the thought. However, he would prefer if the space beside him wasn’t empty.

You had just started on breakfast by the time he got to the kitchen. He offered to help out and the two of you chatted pleasantly as the golden rays of morning sun peeked through the curtains. You felt joy knowing he was warming up to you. Despite the short period of time you’d known each other, you felt like you’ve known him your whole life. It wasn’t awkward, there was no hesitation from either ends. It felt right.“(Y/N).” You hummed to signal you were listening, not taking your eyes off the frying pan. “You know how I told you I went out to get medication yesterday? They were heat suppressants.”

You turned to him, jaw dropping in shock. Out of all things to come out of his mouth, that was the last of what you expected. There was no problem of course- just short notice. “Oh. You want me to help you through it?” You wiggled an eyebrow suggestively, liking the way his face flushed at your words. “Is that really all you can think of?” Dean whined. “Well it is important to discuss wether I’ll be around or not. Do you want me to help you through it?” Being around an omega in heat was irresistible for an alpha. Even the faintest smell of slick can them into hormonal overdrive. “Mhm. I trust you.” He said. He wanted to be your first, last and everything in between.

On the third day you marked each other. Marking was a rather intimate action, it was the way of claiming someone as yours. They tended to be on the neck where it was visible to everyone, and you had to take care of them for a few days while it was sore, or else you’d risk infection and a deformed mark. It was Dean’s first time going into public since that night so you could help him move some of his stuff to your place. Let’s just say you weren’t weren’t taking any risks when it came to the safety of your omega. He’d be lying if he said your protectiveness wasn’t a massive turn on.

Day five was when the pre-heat began. The pre-heat period was when an omegas body prepared to go into heat. Excessive clinginess and need for affection weren’t too uncommon either. Dean would crawl into your lap at the most random times, whether you were working on an essay or watching TV. He wore your hoodies around the house, scented everything you owned. Cuddling was a necessity. Sometimes he’d get you to lay on his lap, massaging your scalp and playing with your hair as you nuzzled his stomach. Good morning and goodnight kisses were a must. You two started sleeping in the same bed, but you didn’t always cuddle. On nights where you’d slept a good distance opposite each other you’d find him snug in your arms when you woke up.

However, despite his bodily needs, Dean still respected your personal space and gave you time to yourself though he was constantly aching for your touch. Never overstepping, never being the source of your frustration. You couldn’t begin to fathom how you got lucky enough to be mated with someone as kind and warm-hearted as your babyboy. Fate was good.

https://ko-fi.com/sunehri_c

#gilmore girls #dean forester x male reader #male reader #bxb #dean forester #male insert #bottom dean #fluff #abo verse #alpha/omega

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pars-ley · 4 years

Text

Little Blue

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Summary: A wild party ends with traumatic events for your best friend but as the night continues you realise just how much your support has always meant to him.

Genre: One-shot / Triggering topics / Friends to Lovers!au / College!au / Smut / Angst / Fluff

Trigger warnings: Drug use (spiked drink but not with roofies) / Sexual assault / Attempted rape (no actual rape) / Violence (someone gets punched)

Warnings: Unprotected sex (you know the deal, wrap it up) / Finger foreplay / Ever so slight female cum play / cumshot (pearl necklace) / Language

Word Count: 5.5k

Notes: This was a request I had serious anxiety about and wasn’t sure whether to do or not but after some careful consideration, I decided to take a serious route with it and use it to bring awareness of these situations, the repercussions and the aftermath. I wanted to highlight how these topics (that happen everyday all over the world) can be, not just for male victims but all victims. That they are serious and wrong, no matter who the affected party are and that it is the victims choice how they deal with it after these types of horrible events transpire. Please do you not read if you think you will be affected by any of the warnings.

Here are some links for anyone who has been affected by the type of events that are written about in this story:

http://www.nationaldahelpline.org.uk/ https://rapecrisis.org.uk/ https://www.victimsupport.org.uk/ https://www.rainn.org/statistics/victims-sexual-violence https://www.survivorsuk.org/ Most of these are English links but they have a lot of helpful information in them. The last link is specifically for male victims.

Beta read by @unoriginal-username15432 Thank you so much for all your help and confidence boosting when I came to you an absolute wreck, you’re amazing. Thank you to @ditttiii @moccahobi @sugarly-laysa @joheun-saram for reading and giving me feedback and encouragement to do this right. Your help and support means the world to me 😘

You watch as Veronica slips a little blue tablet into a drink, looking on as it fizzes wildly in a spiral, inside the see-through glass.

I had no idea she was a pill popper. That would explain a lot.

Staring after her as she carries two drinks into the living room, beyond my view, swaying her hips confidently with a smug grin stretched across her full mouth. At least, you hoped the pill was for her.

Which poor, unsuspecting soul would be her victim?

You would have to keep two watchful eyes on her tonight, as much as the thought pained you of having her not only in your sights but in your mind, it was necessary to hinder whatever evil she was plotting today.

Hating Veronica was easy. Avoiding her was not. Not only was she an unremarkably, average student at your university, she also seemed to be at every party. That stumped you however, as you had yet to meet a single person who genuinely liked her.

Her personality consisted of bullying, harassment and being the worst spoilt princess. She always got what she wanted, one way or another and she enjoyed making other people suffer in the process.

"Hey, y/n?" Hoseok’s voice calls out, lighting up your dark thoughts. He has that ability, like a gift from the sun itself. Turning and raising an eyebrow in expectation at his question.

"Have you seen Jungkook?" He asks, closing the distance between you, bringing his sunshine smile and almost blinding you with it.

Shaking your head, you reply, "No, not for a while actually." That was unlike him, usually, your best friend was glued to your hip, you were inseparable, especially at parties like this.

"We're betting which one of us will be the first to get laid tonight, we want him in on it." He babbles excitedly and with that he enveloped the sun with a dark cloud, as you’re reminded how clichéd horny, young adults can be.

Rolling your eyes, you down your drink, wincing at the burn as the fiery liquid cascades down your throat. You welcome the numbness that follows and it makes you forget the things you should be doing. The idea of Jungkook hooking up with anyone, now overtaking your gin hazed brain, turning your insides into snakes as they churn relentlessly in the pit of your stomach.

"I can't find him anywhere. He didn't leave, did he?" He shrugs, continuing his alcohol induced thoughts when you don’t respond.

Swallowing the snakes down, keeping your secret down along with them. "I don’t think so, I'll go see if I can find him."

Hoseok nods. "Thanks." He said as he heads off with a grin, taking the sunshine and leaving you dulled by the implication of his words.

You survey the living room, only his face in your mind as you frantically scan the crowd.

With no sign of him, you head out and away from the noise that feels like a ruthless power tool, ramming itself repeatedly into your brain.

You climb the stairs, each step causing your anxiety to grow as a thousand images of what you might find race through your mind. Even when you blink, you can still see them behind your closed eyes, like a projector flickering a private tortuous movie just for you.

Checking the upstairs bathroom, you find a girl draped over the toilet, her head in the bowl, heaving the contents of her liquid stomach and unleashing it with force. Quickly closing the door, for your sake and hers, you continue onto the other rooms.

Please, don’t let me find him in any of these rooms with another girl. Please, don’t let my dreams and wild fantasies evaporate instantly before my eyes.

You pray to yourself as you scan the empty rooms filled with darkness and focus on the ones with closed doors and invisible ‘no entry’ signs.

Muffling an apology to a couple entwined in the sheets and with each other, a mess of limbs and moans as you quickly retreat and continue on. Unease sitting in the pit of your stomach, growing with each move you make forward, with one less room to check.

It’s not until you hear muffled talking in one of the end rooms, the pit turns into a volcano, threatening to erupt. You listen at the door, hoping it wouldn’t be Jungkook’s voice you heard whispering through the grainy, wooden barrier between you.

Your hopes were dashed, when you hear him cry out, “No, let me go!” You would recognise the sound of him in distress anywhere. Your body alights like a beacon at the sound of his anguish.

Flinging open the door you freeze, unable to move, unable to do anything except stare at the sight of him on top of a girl, her legs slither and wrap themselves tightly around his waist.

The serpent of temptation. Who was Eden’s evil mistress?

Though the two of them were fully clothed, it didn’t cease to stop your heart from shattering into tiny fragments before the scene and send them darting into the concealed female beneath him. Your eyes burning a hole into her face, covered with her long, dark hair. When she blows it away you feel like all the air in your lungs has been driven out by a ghostly fist.

She’s not supposed to be up here, she’s supposed to be downstairs where I was surveying her. Fuck. Veronica.

Veronica. Little did you know, her unfortunate victim, or poor, unsuspecting soul, as you deemed to refer to him earlier, was none other than Jungkook. Your Jungkook.

Confusion furrows your brow.

He hates her, he hates her as much as you do, so why on earth would he be…

“Come on Kookie, you clearly want me. I can feel your dick, it’s hard as rock.” She whines at him, her tongue hissing sin into his ear with every word. The sound of her poisonous voice makes your blood run hot in your veins.

“What I want is for you to let me go.” He pleads with her, attempting to pull his body away from her but to no avail.

You watch, rooted to the spot. Confusion muddling your mind.

The little blue pill.

Suddenly, it all makes sense and it’s now laughable at how blindingly obvious the answer is.

“No. I want you.” She says hard and firm, her hands snaking under his hoodie, touching his bare skin with her scaly fingers, travelling down to his crotch.

“I don’t want you.” He retorts, through gritted teeth, struggling from the vice grip of her iron clamped calves and halting her hand before it can go further.

“Whats going on?” You hear a hoarse, wavering voice interject. When both their eyes land on you, you realise the words must have escaped your mouth.

Jungkook’s eyes pop when they see you, a deer caught in headlights. Panic stares back at you, alarmed and frantic.

Veronica's legs fall open onto the bed, immediately releasing him from his cage.

He jumps up and over to you, faster than you thought possible, unless it was you who was moving in slow motion. "Y/n, it's not what you think…" He insists, arm on yours, face in your eye-line. Does he think that will stop your angry glare reaching her?

"What I think…" You spit through gritted teeth, as you stalk around the bed. “Is that she’s trying to take advantage of you.”

“Then yes, it’s exactly what you think.” Jungkook says quietly, somewhere behind you. Your eyes are too full of red rage to notice if he’s even still in the room.

She slides herself off the edge of the bed, her bored expression doesn’t fool you. The fact she stands to square up to you, shows you foiled her plan of getting him to bite into that bittersweet fruit.

“This doesn’t concern you, y/n.” She growls, her hands balled up into fists either side of her taut body.

“Did you drug him?”

You wait, watching her reaction. The way her eyes widen for a moment, clearly not expecting your question. The way she no longer meets your eyes with her glare, she can hardly look at you at all, and that’s all you need, to know you’re right.

“W-what?” She stutters, attempting to pick herself back up after faltering.

“You heard me. Did you give Jungkook the drink with the pill in?” You take one last step towards her, your limbs tense and still like stone. Every muscle in your body coiled tight and ready to spring, hands shaking with rage at your sides.

You were so close, her rapidly increased breathing fanned your face, the scent of vodka strong enough to make your eyes water.

Tensing her jaw as she grinds her teeth, her eyes narrowing in disgust at you.

At me!?

“He’s not your boyfriend! And it was just Viagra, jeez! One little blue, that’s all. Why don’t you mind your own business!” She shouts, face red with anger as she shoves you hard on the shoulder.

You steel yourself, so you were ready for the impact,with feet planted firmly into the carpet.

Better luck next time, bitch.

You reel forward, lunging at her, all your power driving your fist into her face. Knuckles smashing into her cheek, hard, as a loud thud echoes across the room. She falls backwards, landing against the bedside cabinet.

Strong arms suddenly encase you, pulling you away.

“Y/n.” Jungkook gasps into your ear but you can hardly hear him through the pounding of blood in your ears, as anger threatens to overtake you completely.

“Drugging someone and trying to force them to have sex with you is attempted rape! You sick bitch.” You scream at her, violently fighting the arms that hold you, furious tears spilling out of your eyes and leaving wet trails down your cheeks in their wake.

“Let’s go, please y/n. I want to go.” He begs. Even though the temptation to pound her face into the ground is almost all consuming, you listen to Jungkook and let him guide you away.

It’s not about me, it’s about him. He’s my priority, not her.

You wipe your damp eyes with your shirt sleeve as you leave the room, hand entwined with his, as he leads you away, down the stairs and out of the house. Not a second glance to anyone.

Once outside in the cool, crisp air you can feel your head start to clear, your fury dies down into fierce concern for your friend.

“Hey, you ok?” You squeeze his hand.

He nods, looking mournfully at the ground. “I’m sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to ruin the party.”

Your heels stop in their tracks as you tug on his arm and spin him to face you. Cupping his cheek and forcing him to meet your gaze, “It’s a dumb party, they’ll be plenty of others. You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s her who should be sorry.” You practically growl.

The corners of his mouth pull up in a slight smile. “Thank you for sticking up for me...and for being there for me, always.”

You squeeze his hand again and continue walking. “You want to stay at mine tonight?”

He nods, eyes back on the ground.

You both walk along in silence for a few moments. He rubs roughly at his face and asks, “How did you know she drugged me?”

“I saw her slip a pill into a drink. She disappeared and I was looking for you, I put two and two together once I found you.” You look over at his solemn expression. “What happened?”

“She bought me over a drink, it was uncharacteristic but I thought maybe she was just trying to be nice. She left me to it, so I drank it. I started to feel...something, so I went upstairs into the bedroom and she burst in. She straddled me and pushed me onto the bed but when I rolled over to get up, she pinned me with her legs.” He scratches the back of his neck as you head up the stone steps in your apartment building. “I didn’t know what to do, I wanted her off me but I didn’t want to get physical and hurt her. It was kind of scary.”

Your heart felt heavy with empathy for him, like a rock slowly sinking down into the pit of your stomach, but with it rose the anger in your belly.

If you didn’t hate Veronica with burning passion before, you certainly did now.

She will pay for this. I will destroy her reputation and make her life hell, for Jungkook.

She should be arrested and rot in a cell, but it is not your place to do it.

Besides, if you knew anything about Jungkook, you had a feeling he just wanted to move on and forget about it. You, however, could hold a grudge for a millennium.

You unlock your front door and head into the kitchen, relief of being back in your apartment floods you and flows like waves through your limbs.

Jungkook heads off to the living room.

As you boil the kettle, tea being the cure for every possible mood or trauma in your family, you peek out at him.

Where you usually find his muscular branches draped all over your couch, quite content, today was a different story. He sat awkwardly looking out the window, knee’s shaking and hands constantly wiping down his thighs, palms rubbing against the rough material.

Once they’re done, you place the two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table and join him on the sofa. Wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your cheek against his shoulder, this wasn’t an unusual action between the two of you but today... he flinched under your touch.

Gently, he removes your hands and slid himself to the opposite end, grabbing a pillow and cradling it in his lap. His eyes fixed onto your woven rug, as if it held all the answers he was searching for.

Although you tried not to let it get to you, you couldn’t completely ignore the pain in your chest from his rejection. Even if you wholly understood why.

He’s been through something major tonight and he was bound to be feeling a mixture of emotions right now, it still hurt not to be able to comfort him like you yearned to.

“Y/n,” His quiet voice whispers into the silence. Cheeks flushed, knuckles white from his grip on the pillow, as he leans forward, burning a hole into your floor. You angle your body towards him and wait.

“How long...until...the pill...wears off?” He asks so quietly, you have to strain towards him to hear.

Heat inflames your cheeks as you’re hit with the realisation that Jungkook is sitting, at arm's length away from you, with a very solid erection.

You instantly clamp your thighs shut to try and halter the intense throbbing in between your legs. Your core ablaze with liquid heat, as you try to push the image out of your mind, now was, absolutely, not the time. “Um, I’m not sure.”

He looks up at you, with eyes so intense they bore right into you, every thought you’ve had, every secret laid bare and for a moment you want to tell him, you want to tell him what you desire more than anything. But you break the stare and find yourself closing off once again.

“Why don’t we do something to take your mind off it?” You ask, not sure if your question was for his benefit or yours. “I could put on a film? Or we could play some video games?”

“Video games sound good.”

You rush over to the playstation, grabbing two controllers and bringing the console to life with the tap of a button.

Letting out your drawn-in breath, relieved to have something to distract you both from the penis in the room, you use this time of setting up the game to calm your racing heart and try to extinguish the unwanted thoughts that have come to life in your mind. The what if’s and maybe’s are not a road you should be exploring, not if you wanted to keep Jungkook in your life.

Your turn to hand him a controller but as you do, your foot catches on the edge of the rug and you feel yourself falling forward, grabbing anywhere that you can to stop yourself from smashing face first into your hardwood floor.

You manage to grip onto something; his hoodie, whilst his hand, thankfully, finds your elbow and steady's you.

Straightening yourself up and being only inches away from jungkook, you find yourself lost in a daydream of what might be. His scent swirled everywhere, fresh like the outdoors, as if you were standing in a meadow with the green breeze caressing your face and encircling you in a floral cage.

Your eyes roam up to his face. When his tongue shot out, wetting his mouth, you couldn’t help but pull in your bottom lip and pinch it between your teeth. All your blood raced down to your core, igniting a heat there that had you breathing hard. No, now is not the time to make your confession.

When your eyes finally met his, you were taken aback by the fever in them, as you stared deeper into his ebony pools, you could almost feel yourself drowning in desire.

He reaches up to your cheek and gently trails his fingertip down, stroking your moist lips. You let out a whimper, unable to hold it in, but still trying to keep your feelings enclosed in the prison you built for them long ago.

“Jungkook, I—”

His lips are on yours, smothering your important words down into a pit of lust but as your tongue dances hungrily with his, it’s not your words that feel important anymore.

His strong hands are on your back, pulling you to him, warmth from his touch searing through your clothes but you want more, need more.

You grab his top and pull him even closer, your wild mouths a clash of tongue and teeth. His solid erection pressed against your lower stomach is enough to make your core throb with violent need.

Is this right? Considering recent traumatic events, this felt wrong. This is not what this moment was supposed to feel like.

He pulls away, leaving you gasping for air and clarity. “Y/n, tell me if you don’t want this. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’ll understand.”

He searches your face vehemently, looking for the source of your hesitation.

“I do, I really do but are you sure you want to do this?” I press. “I want to be here for you, with everything that’s happened, I just want to make sure you’re ok?” You insist.

He meets your eyes again, pleading with you. “I want you, y/n. I need you. I don’t want to think about what happened tonight anymore. I’m ok, honestly.” He smiles at you, the sight pulls on your heart and has it doing wild somersaults in your chest. “I want this.” He brings his forehead to yours, the moment so gentle you wanted to hold him close and never let go.

You hesitantly lift your mouth to his; wondering and worrying that you’ve fallen asleep at Hoseok’s house party and all this will be a dream. His moist lips meet yours in a frenzy and as your core ignites like dynamite, slowly, you start to return his hunger. Easing yourself against him, you loosen into the kiss, your concern gradually falls away along with the walls you spent years building to hide your devotion for him.

His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer still. You break the kiss once again to lift his t-shirt off, over his head in one fluid movement, desperate to see and feel underneath. You run your hand over the smooth planes of his chest and the bumpy muscles down his stomach, moaning in sheer appreciation.

Finally, you can show him what he means to you and how he makes you feel inside.

Your hands find their way to his belt, yanking the leather open and whipping it out of his belt loops, making a loud crack echo through the room.

His eyes gawk widely at you, surprise glittered in them. His chest moving fast from his rapid breaths, as he closes the slight distance between you and fumbles with the top button on your shirt, giving up quickly and wrenching the material apart, buttons flying and tapping as they scatter the floor all around.

His hands are on your breasts, massaging, tugging them out of your bra, cool air hitting them, making your nipples pucker into hard buds. He unclasps your bra with one hand, yanking it off aggressively.

“God, y/n.” He lets out a tortured whine. Before his mouth is around your nipple and all you can feel is warm and wet slowly sucking pleasure out of you.

The noises that escape your lips shock even you.

His hands run up the length at the back of your thighs, your feet coming out from under you as he carries you to the bedroom, with your legs wrapping tightly around his waist.

Your hands finger through his silky hair, lips on his face, throat, whatever skin they can find.

Your back finds the bed as he climbs on top, towering over you, and all you can see is Jungkook. He glows like the large moon on an inky night, finding you and giving you some semblance of relief from the relentless darkness.

You're at the button of his trousers, popping it open and pushing them down his strong thighs with your feet.

He gives you a lingering kiss that then trails quickly past your bare chest and down your stomach.

Pushing your skater skirt up so it fans out across your ribs, he hooks a finger under the hem of your pale, pink panties and looks up at you with a questioning gaze. All you can do is eagerly nod your head in response, giving him permission.

He slowly peels away the lace that covers you, when the air hits you can feel just how wet you are, a coolness spreading across your exposed folds.

This is it, everything I've fantasised about during lonely nights with wandering fingers or meaningless hookups with nameless men, picturing his face and his hands instead.

He moans, biting his lip as he stares at your most intimate area with insatiable hunger.

His fingers sliding their way from your entryway to your swollen bud, the moment he touches it your body jolts with delight.

His digits slide into you before you have a chance to catch your breath, beckoning inside you, stroking the rough spot that sends shudders of pleasure throughout your body.

He sucks in a sharp breath with a hiss. “You’re so fucking wet, y/n.” He groans, jutting his hips against the bed. “I need you, so bad.”

He withdraws his fingers, making you feel empty and even more needy. Your body alight with electric lust and your heart aching with unspoken love.

What if this ruins everything? What if he’s only using me, in his current situation?...Honestly, do I really care?

You didn’t. Not in this moment, watching him lick your arousal off his digits as he pulls out his generous erection. The tip pink and angry, begging to be touched and glistening with precum.

He was your living fantasy and he was perfectly acting out every scene you’d created in your mind.

You grip his big shoulders, fingernails making crescent moons in his skin, and pull him down onto you. Your legs wind around him, pushing him to line up to your slick entrance as his eyes boar hungrily into yours.

He seems to hesitate for a moment, his stare searching for an answer to an unasked question but you don't want to think about regrets or repercussions right now.

“You ok?” You ask, breathless.

He nods, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Using your feet against the top of his thighs, you push him into you, answering with actions instead of words.

He moves slow, allowing both of you to savour the feeling. Bolts of pleasure shooting through you, like lightning illuminating the night sky.

Your walls stretching over him is truly euphoric, a moment you have waited years for, as he slides deep into you, reaching everywhere possible.

"Oh my god." He exclaims when he's leveled in you. "Fuck, you feel incredible."

His words cause a shiver of added need through you, your hips start rocking and rotating under him on their own, you’re blind with lust, heat encasing every part of your body.

All you can smell, feel, think is him. He is your undoing and you're more than ready to be undone.

He groans loudly as you writhe under him, encouraging him to move, pleading with him to move.

He slowly retracts his hips, anticipation causing you to quiver before plunging deep and hard, tearing a gasp from your throat with each thrust.

“Holy shit, Jungkook!”

He smirks at you. The sight is enough to make you clench around him, causing him to jolt and groan, biting his lip so hard you think he might draw blood.

He moves onto his knees, tilting your pelvis higher and as he glides back into you, he reaches new places, new depths, new pleasures.

His thumb finds his way to your sensitive button as he massages it with your slick arousal.

Your body is on fire, his touch igniting a trail behind him.

You can feel yourself nearing the edge, torn between being eager to jump off into the precipice but not wanting the journey to end yet.

“I want you to make you cum.” He whispers, as his punishing rhythm on your swollen bud builds the pressure deep down inside you.

The sounds coming from your mouth don’t sound like they belong to you, they’re desperate, needy sounds, full of bliss and torture at once.

He bucks into you, hitting that sweet spot with each forceful thrust, your legs trembling around him as you gasp for air. Incoherent words escorted by his name, stumble off your lips as he incessantly thrums on your clit.

“Cum for me.” He whispers again, his eyes watching your face with fascination.

At his words, your body jolts and back arches as your orgasm ripples through you, sending waves of pleasure cascading around your nerves.

Every fibre of your being alight with electric thrill.

Your loud moans echo, filling your bedroom, as you grind against his rock hard dick while your walls clench tightly around him.

“Shit, y/n!” He exclaims, as he abruptly withdraws from you and spurts his warm, liquid lust across your stomach while his fist gently milks him.

Your pulsating core eases, replaced with tingling satisfaction as you try to even out your rapid breaths.

He collapses on the bed beside you, pants mimicking yours.

But as you come down from your high, floating back to earth and reality, a rock lands in the pit of your stomach.

You just had sex with your best friend. Your best friend, who you have been in love with since you were kids, unbeknown to him.

What the fuck do I do now? Where do we go from here?

A wave of nausea washes over you as your mind is filled with an all consuming dread.

As a million thoughts race through your crowded mind on how to try and save your friendship, he brings over a flannel and starts gently wiping his orgasm off of you, being so attentive you want to cry.

All the years of holding in your feelings and unspoken words, the love for him blooming inside you like a flowery meadow in spring, now threatens to overflow and spill out revealing you.

When he returns, climbing back onto the bed, he angles himself to the side and props himself up on his elbow, facing you.

His fingertips skate across your stomach, tracing small circles and sending goosebumps shivering along your skin.

You look up at his perfect face, innocent eyes meeting yours and you’re overwhelmed by how much you just want to protect him and keep him safe from anything that hurts him.

You put your arms around him, hugging him tightly, as if that will be enough to fix it all.

I wish.

"I won’t ever let anything happen to you again.” You say against his chest.

His fingers come up, stroking your hair softly. “I know, thank you, for being there for me. I will always protect you too, you know that.”

You feel him kiss the top of your head and sigh. “Y/n, about what just happened.

Oh no, here it comes. I have to do something, I have to protect myself from what he’s about to say.

"Kook, listen," You cut him off, before he could tell you what you were dreading to hear; that it was a mistake, a momentary lapse in judgement, a friend helping out another friend.

If you hear those words, you don't think you could hold back the emotion that's currently pricking at your eyes.

I need to take control of this situation. Hopefully, I can salvage some part of this friendship.

You take a deep breath, preparing the words, when his finger on your lips catches you off guard.

"How about you listen," he raises an eyebrow, challenging you. When you close your mouth, he continues, "I have waited for this moment for a long time, so however you're about to shoot me down, could it wait until tomorrow? So I can at least enjoy this feeling of pretending what might have been."

There's a sadness in his eyes as he speaks, a pleading in them.

His words run over and over in your mind, while you try to reason with yourself that he can't possibly feel the way you think.

Surely, he can't mean he has feelings for me? I can't afford to give myself hope with that thought.

You swallow it down, along with any words that were fighting to come up.

You watch his hand, his fingertips tickling faint lines up to your chest, making your nipples pucker in response, they finally come to rest against your lips, tracing the edges.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, "One last time."

Last!? It can't be the last time, we've only just started.

It can't be the last time I'll ever get to feel his soft lips against mine.

I can't go back to pretending not to want more, not to care, not to love him so much it kills me inside. Like a poisonous ivy plant squeezing my lungs and capturing my heart, I've had a taste of what it's like to live and breath free of that, with vibrant tiger flowers blooming in place of it and I don't want to stop feeling this way.

You find yourself leaning up and crushing your lips to his.

He's frozen with surprise for a moment, before his hands wind around your waist, scooping you up and pressing onto you, bodies almost one.

His lips trail down your neck.

"Jungkook?"

"Hmm." He moans into your throat, the vibration making you shudder.

"I don't want it to be the last time." You hear the words escaping your mouth, as if you're watching from the outside and no longer in control of yourself.

His head snaps up, doe-eyed and mouth shaped in a little o. "You don't?"

You shake your head. "Not at all."

He beams at you, taking your face in his hands and touching his lips to yours so passionately, it brings all your emotion flying to the surface.

"God, y/n, I am so in love with you, I have been for years." he smiles against your lips and you can't help but mirror it in response. "Please, put me out of my misery and tell me you feel the same."

You can feel his hands shaking against your face and suddenly feel incredibly stupid for not realising his feelings sooner.

Who would have thought? Not me, clearly.

"I do. I definitely do." You pull him behind the neck, bringing him down to you, so close not even a sheet of paper could get between your skins.

As you kiss, tongues dancing wildly together, hot and hungry for each other.

His body weighing down on you, making you crazy with desire again.

"I want you." You say between kisses.

"You can have me as much as you want, I'm yours." He says, leaning his sweaty forehead against yours. "Besides, that pill hasn't worn off yet."

Arousal shoots down to your core like a bullet at his words.

You push him, flipping him over and straddling his muscular body. "Well, lets see what we can do to take care of that."

As you lean down to kiss him once again, knowing that...he's mine. And I'm his.

#thebtswritersclub #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bangtan #bangtan army #bangtan seonyeondan #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bangtan fanfics #bangtan fanfiction #requests #bts army

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jossambird · 3 years

Text

This Soul Of Mine PT 4

Main Incubus Otto x Reader (Incubus Axel and Oscar x Reader in later parts!)

18+ (also in later parts)

(Mentions of Rape but only passing, as Incubus are Male Demons who feed off sex, most of them are NOT kind Swedes.)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

After a few moments spent together in silence petting the little cat in Otto’s arms, a man came out of the house along with Oscar. The unknown man’s eyes narrowed as he took you in, frowning deeply as Oscar seemed to whisper to him.

“I am Axel.” He roughly stated as he kept your gaze, accent thick. You nodded, trying to smile but too overwhelmed to. The wind blew around you, the silence practically deafening as he seemed to stare into your soul.

“I am Y/N-“

“Yes I know, your name was on the cookie box.” He cut you off, sounding irritated and headed back inside with Oscar, leaving only the screen door open.

“Sorry, he is wary of.. new people.” Otto whispered, a small smirk appearing on his lips as you both heard Axel huff loudly inside the home. Together, you sat on their front porch, petting the little bundle of fur before it demanded to be put down, running away quickly.

“I... May I ask a favor of you..?” You asked Otto, voice silent as to not let his brothers hear you. Judging by the way you saw them slightly turn their heads though, Super Hearing was also probably an Incubus power.

You felt bad asking this of him, it wasn’t his job... But he had imprinted on you, hadn’t he? Laid claim to you accidentally, just as The Handler had said. You were now his, and he yours, surely that meant something.

Your slight pinpricks of worry reached his nose, followed by embarrassment and hope. Hope?

“Yes, of course.” Otto whispered back, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the smell of relief you exuded, so much so that he had to look away, eyes turning inside to catch both Oscar and Axel watching out of anticipation.

“Would you mind accompanying me to church after tomorrow? It would not be for long, I... I need to deliver something, but I dont feel comfortable going alone.” You answered, wondering if he could sense that you were hiding something from him.

Could Incubi also read minds, just as their female Ruler had? Was that simply a Succubus power? God, as soon as you got home, you were going to write all of this down.

It was obvious you were hiding something from him, but as he took in the delicious scent of your emotions, Otto knew it wasn’t anything malicious. Your worry and hope outshined anything else, the sweet mixture making his insides burn, feeling the sudden need to comfort you.

It was a mistake to reach out, to touch you, hand placed on your forearm. The moment he did, mouth open to answer, the sharp dangerous smell of arousal waifed off of you, calling to him, your surprise mixing with it as he retracted his hand. Otto’s mind reeled as he tried to recover, senses on fire, barely registering that you had accidentally projected some of your emotions onto him in that moment.

“I will walk you home.” Axel declared, scaring you as he appeared behind you, gloved hand settling on your shoulder to lift you and turn you away from his stunned brother. You frowned, trying to turn to say goodbye to the two other brothers but couldn’t, Axel’s rough hold veering you out the yard and into the street and cold night, his gray eyes shining as he watched you.

“I know that you know.” He stated as he walked alongside you, momentarily shutting his senses off as to avoid your whirlwind of emotions that you visibly had no control over whatsoever. Mortals, such incapable beings. He didn’t miss the way your head snapped back to him, watching him as you walked together.

“My brothers are young, a hint of stupid even, so they cannot tell, but I can. You fraternized with her, sat with her. You smell of her cigarettes.” He said after a moment passed, coming at a standstill. You werent Otto’s soulmate, you were working for The Handler, plotting, cruel, acting kind to get close to his poor unsuspecting brother. He wanted to lash out, tell you how stupid you were-

The scent of pure unadulterated relief flooded his senses out of nowhere as you turned to him, eyes wide open as you gasped deeply, looking at him in surprise.

“Oh god, thank goodness! You have no idea how relieved I am to know that you know, she absolutely scared the life out of me! She arrived at the Church and sat right beside me!” You exclaimed, hands flying to your face to hide from him, fearing he was about to kill you-

“You- Your being honest...” Axel said, tone sounding more uncertain then he had ever been in his life, finding himself out of his depth at your honest and truthful answer. Something within his chest hurt, a sharp and twisted pain, lighting his senses on fire. It felt like the first breath of fresh air after being held under water for ages, wind filling his lungs as he breathed in slowly. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get it; you knew they were demons? Incubi, to be specific, and yet you stayed either way?

“Why would you fraternize with demons, demons that rape, harm pretty little women like you... who lure unsuspecting women out in parks at night, only to eat their throat out?” Axel stated, trying to make you see just what they were, the dangers that they brought, what they truly were, but as he went on, he felt more drained, losing whatever edge he hoped to exude out to you.

He hated you, hated that a mere mortal like you were making him regret his choices, making him regret what he was as he saw the gentle pure kindness in your eyes. Most of all, he hated that you, you of all people, a pretty little church goer, made him regret being born an Incubus. For the first time in all of his existence, a mortal, a human, knew what he was, and stayed, showing him the same exact kindness as before.

“Wow, with a facial expression as flat as that, Im really trembling in my boots.” You smirked at him, hand lifting to push your hair back behind your ear as the wind blew around the both of you, trees swaying in the wind. A vile putrid stench filled the air for a moment and made him forget the retort that had been on his tongue, nearly making him gag as the scent filled his senses. What was that?

“Do that again.” Axel whispered out harshly, eyes sharply observing you critically as you stopped smiling.

“Do what again?” You asked, eyes wide, breath catching in your throat as he came closer, face moving towards you as if to smell you.

“Place your hair behind your ear again, there is something... unclean on you, something The Handler must have implanted on you, I can smell it wafting into the air around you.” Axel said before recoiling sharply as you lifted your arm, your soft gaze turning worried as you watched him openly gag, the noise making the nerves inside of you burst.

“Oh my god Axel, are you okay!? Im so sorry!” You asked, stepping away from him to leave him some room but halting as his arm shot out, grabbing ahold of your wrist-

Axel froze as foul images assaulted his senses, the scent overpowering him. He remained unmoving though, feeling it too important of a vision to pull back, pull away. You, the mere human mortal, were too important, he corrected himself, heart beating faster as he watched a Priest, supposedly a man of God, jerking himself off, your dainty little bracelet in his hand. Axel watched with a feeling of violation as the priest finished himself off and pocketed the bracelet, only to give it to you later that day at the end of a sermon. The man had tainted it, placed his unholy hands on it, coated with-

“Take it off.” Axel grunted as he pulled away, emotions running amok inside of him like a hurricane in an open field, ripping and destroying everything in its path. The delicate scent of your hesitation reached him, and he almost sighed out of joy at the sheer difference of weight your scent had over the bracelets filthy smell, making him forget the Priest’s disgusting act.

“If you can trust me, no matter how small, please, trust me now Y/N.” He added, eyes locking onto yours. It was a stretch Axel told himself, knowing he wasn’t in any position to demand anything of you after accusing you of potentially betraying them with little proof.

Nothing in this world had ever brought him ecstasy, nothing had ever made his dead heart beat, and yet here you were, ripping the bracelet off and throwing it into the woods behind you; the mere sight of your trust made his blood roil pleasantly under his skin, fingertips aching to touch you.

Had this been exactly what Otto had felt the first time he had touched you? Otto had been frugal on the details of his awakened state of mind, but was touch truly the key? It had to be, he had never felt a more pressing need to touch a human, anyone, anything, YOU, more then Axel did right now, invisible Incubus tail fidgeting back and forth out of confusion.

“Are you alright?” You asked again, noticing how far his gaze seemed, reminded suddenly of Otto’s expression the first time he had laid his hand on you. Axel breathed in sharply as you came closer, eyes connecting with your own. His gray-blue eyes shined in the moonlight, platinum blond hair reminding you of fresh snow.

You didn’t know what Father James’ bracelet had, or what magic was on it, but you trusted Axel.

“Y/N... If I asked you to no longer visit the Priest alone, would you respect my judgement?” Axel whispered softly as he lifted his hand, wanting to pushing your hair once more behind your ear but couldn’t. He watched you, watched as the wheels turned within your mind, and watched with greed as you bit your lip softly.

He had always seen female lovers do it, biting their lips to keep themselves from making sound, or out of desire, and it had never done anything for him. Yet here he stood, hand lowering to his side once more, insides churning in pure delight at the sight of your teeth sinking into your lower lip softly. The sweet scent of your surprise at his question curled around you, patiently allowing you to think before answering him.

You wondered if Axel had heard you speak to Otto earlier or if he had taken an educated guess. Did he also have powers like their Ruler did? He visibly had Super Hearing, but the was for another day to think about.

“You know, earlier at your home, I thought you hated me. But I would almost say you have a soft spot for me Axel, seeing how accommodating you are, walking me home.” You said, changing the subject as you felt anxiety rise up your spine with a vicious need. Axel hummed in answer, eyes squinting as he regarded you.

“You need not answer me, but please, next time, ask my poor simpleton of a Brother to accompany you.” He spoke, smiling a bit as you nodded and continued your walk home, silence reigning over the both of you the rest of the way.

——

The walk back home was torturous for Axel, mind and heart fighting, intelligence trying to reign victorious over these... feelings, emotions. Useless things, really.

Yet... he understood, understood why Otto had been acting irrationally. Nothing seemed to make sense as he had watched you wave goodbye to him from your front door, senses telling him to leave but.. body roaring to go knock on your door, to ask for permission to enter and touch you, touch your cheeks and run his lips against your throat. Axel wanted to feel your pulse under his fingertips, feel the fleeting human life inside you, and to feel you, just you, touching him back out of your own volition, not like the humans affected by his natural Pheromones.

Axel’s feet came to a sudden stop, previous inner thoughts reminding him just what he was: A Demon. An Incubus, a male demon that sought to impregnate human women, feeding off their souls and lives. He was everything your kind feared, everything they had nightmares about, everything human children cried about.

Slowly yet quickly, the thought came crashing down on him that this, all of these emotions he was feeling, all of these humanly soft thoughts, all of these stupid fantasies could never happen.

Never should he touch your cheeks, and run his lips along your throat. Never should he feel your pulse under his fingertips.

Never, under any circumstances, should he ever feel your touch, from this moment on. If he did, Axel knew he would fail, knew he would throw everything to the wind, fairytales and folktales be damned.

If you touched him, Axel knew he would follow you until the end of the Earth.

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oldfashionedmoth · 3 years

Text

Fred and George do QVC

Find me on AO3

It was a bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon, and Harry Potter was stuck inside folding laundry. He stared longingly at the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. Lately, he had been feeling listless and filled with ennui. His life at the Dursley’s was considerably less exciting than his life at school. Albeit, he didn’t have a crazed, nose-less, master wizard, trying to murder him here; but even that might have been an improvement, to the boredom he had felt all summer. He glanced across the room at his Aunt Petunia, who lounged on the sofa, half asleep. He wondered if she’d notice if he escaped outside, for a breath of fresh air. Uncle Vernon had just left, with Dudley and his friends, to see a professional football match. This was one of the numerous birthday surprises his aunt and uncle had lavished their son with. Harry would have liked to had gone too, but he was told “the laundry wasn’t going to fold itself.”

“If I were allowed to use magic outside of school, the laundry certainly *would* fold itself.” Harry thought bitterly.

The TV chattered away in the background.

“…and just so we’re clear, these are dishwasher safe?”

“Yes, that’s right, Antonella. The Scrub Daddy is absolutely dishwasher safe.”

“And remember, you’re getting 12 of these! Order code 63528, when you call in.”

“Yes, and just quickly…because I know we are running out of time… I wanted to show you that the design for these is not just a smiley face. These are fully functional. Put your two fingers in the eye holes like so, and it stays on your fingers. That’s going to be fantastic for getting inside of mugs, cups, you name it.”

“Wow! that’s ingenious!”

The presenter turned and addressed the camera directly, holding the item for sale.

“Look! Here is what you’re getting, guys. And this packaging! Ah! This custom packaging is exclusive to QVC, guys. And, all this could be yours, for 4 easy payments of $7.49. Amazing!”

The camera zoomed in, on the presenter’s face.

“Coming up, we have a couple of young entrepreneurs, showing us their latest confections. I’m sure we all know someone with a sweet tooth. Just wait till you see what these boys have in store for us today. But first, make sure you get your orders in for the Scrub Daddy. These things are selling like hot cakes!”

The shot cut to a pre-recorded infomercial, for Scrub Daddy sponges.

“Hmmph!” Aunt Petunia snorted “I should order some of those for you, so you’ll stop ruining my pots!”

Harry muttered under his breath “Well, if you fixed the dishwasher, instead of using me as your personal slave, I wouldn’t have to scrub the pots.”

“What was that?!” snapped Aunt Petunia, “You ungrateful little brat! After all your uncle and I have done for you; taking you in, like we did, after your parents…well…You should be ecstatic that I even offered to buy you anything!”

In a huff, she snatched the remote control off the coffee table and turned up the volume.

Harry put the folded laundry in the basket and stood to bring them upstairs.

“Up next, we have twins Fred and George Weasley, of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, here with us today. Welcome boys!”

Harry froze, gobsmacked. Much to his disbelief, there was his best friend’s older brothers, peddling their wares on QVC. One was wearing an evening tailcoat, which was neon orange with lime green polka dots. His trousers were also neon orange, but with a lime green tuxedo stripe running down each leg. The other twin was wearing the same tailcoat and tuxedo trousers, but in inverse colors to his brother. In contrast to the loudness of their jackets, both boys were wearing black cravats around their necks, giving them a ‘Victorian Regency on acid’ kind of look.

“Thanks for having us, Antonella. We’re happy to be here!” said one of the twins

“Remind us to buy a pack of those Scrub Daddies, before we leave.” said the other, “Our Dad would get such a kick out of them. Sponges with smiley faces. What a concept! Haha!”

His brother leaned into him, and theatrically whispered “We don’t need them ourselves. We can just use Malfoy’s head.” He held up two fingers in a sideways peace sign, and pretended to poke his brother in both eyes. “His hair is great at soaking up grease.”

The twins snickered together, as the presenter, unperturbed, carried on with the sales pitch.

“Fred and George have brought with them some of their Skiving Snackbox candies. Now, judging by the names of some of these, I think these would be perfect as a novelty get-well present, for someone in your life who’s been feeling a little under the weather. There’s something for every ailment. We’ve got ‘fever fudge’, ‘fainting fancies’, ‘nosebleed nougat’ and last but not least, ‘puking pastilles.’ Hehe! Now, what made you boys come up with this concept, for these sweets?”

“Well,” said Fred, “they’re not exactly for someone who’s already sick."

"That could result in some disastrous side effects.” quipped George

Fred turned to the camera and added “Always read the labels, kids!”

George continued, “They make you temporarily ill, if for example, you wanted the day off work. You pop in a fainting fancy. Bob’s your uncle-Fanny’s your Aunt, suddenly your GP has prescribed you a day of bed rest.”

“Oh, but totally 100% all muggle, I mean natural. 100% all natural.” Fred interjected

“Yes, definitely nothing magical about these candies at all.” George agreed, with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, I get it!” exclaimed the host, “That’s just like the Natural Herbal Detox Tea, we had on the show last month. This may be TMI, but I swear I was on the toilet for a week, after that segment! Hehehe!”

Fred laughed and said, “Now would be a good time for me to tell one of my poop jokes.”

George replied “Nah, they always stink!”

“Hey-oh!” they cried, while high-fiving each other.

“You know what you needed?” Fred asked the host, “The Skiving Snackbox’s companion product, ‘You-No-Poo’. Guaranteed to cause crippling constipation in less than 3 minutes!”

“The constipation sensation, that’s gripping the nation!” exclaimed George

“Well, being conscious of time, lets move right along.” Antonella said, “Our viewers at home are probably wondering ‘but how do they taste?’ Let’s find out, shall we?”

She popped a candy into her mouth, and immediately started retching.

“NOOO!” the twins shouted in unison.

“You’re not supposed to eat the whole thing at once!” lamented Fred

“You’re only supposed eat half!” followed George

“The antidote is in the second half.” continued Fred

The poor unsuspecting host began urging in a rhythmic way, “Blech...Blech...Blech...Blech...”

“Oh no!” wailed George “I think she’s stuck in vom-limbo.”

“Both sides of the sweet must be working against each other!” added Fred

“It’s simultaneously trying to make her be sick, and also keeping any sick from coming up.” George concurred.

Panic-stricken, Fred started rifling through his rugsack. He began removing items and throwing them behind him. A roll of parchment; a quill; various bottles and vials; a bowler hat; a cup of tea, complete with saucer; a set of fireworks, which exploded upon impact with the floor; a broom; a Yorkshire pudding; a literal kitchen sink...

Between urges, Antonella asked “How...blech...did...blech...you...blech...fit...blech...all...blech...that...blech...in...blech...there?”

“Never mind that now! Here, eat this!” bellowed Fred, shoving the found antidote in the host’s mouth.

Finally, the retching stopped, but with it came a lengthy spew of vomit across the set, with such ferocity it rivaled Linda Blair in the exorcist. The show quickly switched to camera angle “B” to avoid broadcasting Antonella’s lost lunch to the viewers.

“I think it’s best we...uhh...take a little break,” the presenter said shakily, wiping tears and vomit from her face. “ugh... Up next we have Ken Oschipok with his beautifully iridescent Ammolite and White Zircon silver rings...ahh...oh...just a second, my producer is telling me something...”

She touched her finger to her ear, turned away from the camera and hissed into her mic “What do you mean you can’t find the rings? A Platypus? Are…are you sure it was a platypus? How did a platypus get in here, and why would it steal our merchandise?”

Fred and George exchanged worried glances.

The presenter looked back to camera, with a wide grin plastered on her face, “Sorry guys, we are just having a little bit of...umm...technical difficulties. We’ll be right back wi...OH!”

Suddenly a red envelope swooped down out of nowhere, flicked Antonella across the nose and stopped abruptly in front of the twins. A loud but shrill voice echoed throughout the studio.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! OF ALL THE COCKAMAMIE STUNTS YOU’VE EVER PULLED — MUGGLE TV? YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU! IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN I RECEIVED A CALL FROM RITA SKEETER, ASKING FOR A QUOTE FROM THE DELINQUENTS’ MOTHER — I NEVER — IN ALL MY DAYS — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK ~ AGAIN! AS IF THE MINISTRY HASN’T BEEN FACING ENOUGH BACKLASH, AFTER THAT NIFFLER GETTING LOOSE, NOW THIS? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU TWO COME HOME THIS INSTANT!!!"

Once the assault on everyone’s ears subsided, the presenter unsteadily staggered out of shot, with her hand on her forehead, murmuring “I think I need a nap, or a drink, or both”

The screen cut to another pre-recorded infomercial; a cheerful rock jingle began to play.

You wanna skip class, but not look like an ass? If you want an excuse; What have you got to lose? You better show some moxie, Grab a Skiving Snack Box-y From Weasley- Wizard - Wheezes!

Harry stood slack jawed, in the living room, transfixed by what had just played out on the tv in front of him. Clean laundry scattered around his feet, from where he’d dropped the basket.

“Bloody Hell! Those crazy troll bogeys!” He thought with a grin. A shocked guffaw escaped his throat.

Aunt Petunia gave him a scandalized glare and shrieked “I suppose you have something to do with this?”

Harry scooped all the laundry into his arms and dashed upstairs before she could chastise him any further. Although, he imagined any tongue-lashing Aunt Petunia could give him, would pale in comparison to the dressing down the twins were probably getting, from Molly Weasley, right now. She is one fierce boss-witch.

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall at the Burrow, right now” Harry said to himself, with a chuckle. “I can’t wait to hear the details from Ron!”

#Harry Potter #fred & george weasley #skiving snack box #weasley wizard wheezes #qvc

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yeetusthedeetus · 4 years

Text

Quarantine's Not That Bad - ATEEZ

A tickle fic? On this Tumblr? What has the world come to??!!

They were on the move.

Prowling around the dorm, waiting for an unsuspecting lee to make a wrong move.

It had been a while since the lers had joined forces like this, intending to wreck every lee in sight. Their world tour had definitely thrown a spanner into the works too.

But quarantine was good for one thing, when 4 lers lived with 4 lees (well, 3 lees and a switch, who leant towards a lee anyway).

Seonghwa was laid on his bed in his room when the first unfortunate soul walked in. Poor little Hongjoong walked in, intending on changing his clothes, but was quickly followed by Jongho, who shut the door quietly behind him. As the small leader took off his t-shirt, ditching it on the floor, the eldest and youngest made eye contact, a quick nod being shared between them.

Jongho moved first, grabbing the shorter man by the legs and slinging him over his shoulder. Hongjoong cried out in shock, gripping Jongho's waist with his arms as he was faced with the younger's muscled back.

"Jongho, why on-- oh NOHOHOHO!"

Hongjoong tried his best to kick, but Jongho holding his shins made it impossible to. Seonghwa's fingers, in the meantime, danced skillfully on the younger's socked feet, tickling dreadfully. Small fists pounded on the maknae's back, as Hongjoong's face screwed up in laughter, belly laughter erupting from his mouth.

"Seonghwahahahahaha!! Stohohohop!! NO!" The leader shrieked as he felt the elders wiggling fingers slip under the top of his socks, pulling them off while tickling down his feet. Seonghwa couldn't hold back his own grin, chuckling back, "Not on your life."

The elders fingernails scratched lightly down the platinum blond's sole, particularly focusing on the little gaps between his toes. Hongjoong couldn't help but scream with laughter, still raining punches on Jongho's back as he tried desperately to escape. Jongho held strong though, laughing at how weak his hyung had become due to the tickling. Seonghwa grinned, slowing down. "Ok I'm bored of the feet now."

"No, Seonghwa don't! I swear to god! No no no no NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" Hongjoong flailed desperately when Seonghwa's fingers made contact with the hollows of his armpits, practically screaming with laughter. Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh as his fingers fled all over the younger's torso, tickling everywhere from Hongjoong's armpits to his back, to his stomach and ribs. He even managed to sneak a raspberry on the leaders neck, resulting in a hilarious shriek tearing from his lips. Jongho himself joined in, wiggling devilish fingers all along the leaders thighs and knees. By the time they were done, Hongjoong was red in the face, tears welling in his eyes.

"Stohohohop!!! Stop, stop, plehease!! Need- ahahaha- I need a break!" The lers laughed, stopping their assault while Jongho ditched the still giggling leader onto his bed. The shorter immediately curled into foetal position, unable to remove the smile from his face. Seonghwa grinned, grabbing a soft blue shirt and throwing it onto him. He pinched the exposed side, laughing at the yell he received.

"Put that on before I attack you again."

On the other side of the dorm, Yunho and Mingi were chatting in the kitchen when an unsuspecting Yeosang came in for a glass of water. It was obvious that he'd just been practicing dancing in his room, as there was a light sweat on his brow and he was panting. One glance at each other and the two tallest knew what to do.

As the shorter reached up to grab a glass, Mingi poked him in the armpit, causing the arm to slam to his side. Yeosang glared at him, causing the taller to chuckle. He tried to reach up with the other hand, only to find Yunho had slipped to that side and repeated the same action. Yeosang huffed, reaching up once again only to be stopped once more.

"What's wrong Sangie?" Yunho asked, as Yeosang glared at the duo, "Can't you reach it?"

"Maybe try again," Mingi stated, massive grin on his face, "you can't be that short."

"Why don't you try not being a prick," the shorter grumbled, once again attempting to reach for a glass only to be poked.

Mingi gasped dramatically, "I am OFFENDED!" Tackling Yeosang to the ground, he sat on his wrists. Yunho watched in amusement as Yeosang struggled, while Mingi required little to no effort to keep him down. "Wanna apologise?"

"Sod off," Yeosang replied, still struggling, "Let me get a drink!"

"So rude!" Mingi exclaimed, "I'm hurt!" He lightly started drumming his fingers on Yeosang's ribs, watching as the elder tried to hide his developing smile. "We should punish him Yunho!"

"How?" Yunho asked, feigning innocence to Mingi's plan.

"Liiiiiiiiiiiiike this!" As Mingi's fingers started drilling mercilessly into Yeosang's sides, the shorter male bucked up, instantly dissolving into belly laughter.

"Nonononono Mingi!! Fuhuhuhuck!!"

"Is that a swear word??" Yunho exclaimed. "Oh you're in for it now mister."

Yunho's long fingers made quick work of the younger's socks, and as he grabbed the boys slender ankles he could hear pleading. Smiling brightly, he started gently stroking a single finger down Yeosang's left arch, listening as the laughter went higher in pitch. As soon as 5 fingers hit the boy's soles, he screamed, laughter raising in pitch and volume as he defiantly tried to pull his feet from Yunho's grasp.

One glance at Mingi proved that he was going all out, one hand spidering in Yeosang's right armpit while the other hand flitted around, attacking his stomach and ribs and hips and neck with no discernible pattern. Yeosang's face was red with a heavy blush, eyes screwed shut. Yunho grinned, laying on the younger's legs so his chin rested on his stomach.

He left his fingers pattering softly on his thighs, not enough to tickle but enough to irritate, and as Mingi also stopped, hands rubbing at Yeosang's biceps, Yeosang finally opened his eyes, which flickered around before landing on Yunho.

"Hi!" Yunho grinned, nuzzling his chin into the smallest stomach.

"No!" Yeosang instantly said, "No no no, do not!"

As the tallers lips moved closer to his destination, Yeosang get desperate, crying out "I'll buy you food!"

Yunho instantly looked up, making eye contact with Mingi.

"Tempting." Said the rapper, before nodding at Yunho.

The man's face went straight to his target, blowing a raspberry on the younger's bellybutton, revelling in the laughter that erupted from his mouth.

"Think we'd rather hear you laugh though."

After five minutes on non-stop raspberries, Yunho heard Yeosang's breathing get laboured, so he decided to call it off. Sitting on his knees, he chuckled as Yeosang threw a hand over his eyes, smile remaining fixed in place. Mingi stood up, filling a glass with cold water and placing it next to him.

"Enjoy!"

"Asshole."

After lunch had happened, the lers messaged each other.

Seonghwa: Ok Jongho and I got Joong

Mingles: Yunho and I managed to get Sangie

Jonghooooo: so that just leaves woosan

Yunhooooo: ok, Seonghwa and I will hit San because Mingi will need you for Woo Jjong

Jonghooooo: I'll remember my ear plugs

Well, Mingi and Jongho decided to hang out together for the rest of the afternoon, waiting for the chance to attack Wooyoung. After 30 minutes, they weren't sure where he was, but Jongho managed to catch him in the corner of his eye, walking out of the bathroom in a towel. Clearly he had been in the shower, and as he disappeared into his and Yeosang's shared room, the duo stood up and snuck in behind him.

Wooyoung was blissfully unaware of their presence, as he pulled on a pair of briefs and loose cotton shorts. He was about to pick out a shirt when he caught sight of Mingi and Jongho in the mirror, and he yelled in shock, pressing a hand to his heart.

"Good god, you scared me to death!"

Jongho grinned, "sorry hyung, didn't mean to!"

"Then what did you mean to do?" Wooyoung pouted, returning to his search for a t-shirt.

The maknae ran and tackled him to the floor, gripping his wrists tightly.

"This!"

"Wha- Oh nohohoho Mingi! Leave me be!!!"

"Sorry, no can do!" The taller grinned, wiggling his fingers teasingly above the smallers stomach. "We've nearly hit everyone today, would hate to break that streak!"

Wooyoung shrieked when Mingi's fingers made contact with his stomach, loud hyena laughter bouncing off the walls. He bucked and kicked his legs, trying to get away from the sensation, but Jongho had a tight grip on his wrists.

"THIS ISN'T FAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR!!!"

"LIFE ISN'T FAIR HYUNG, GET USED TO IT!" Jongho had to yell to be heard over the younger's hysterical laughter, but grinned wildly at Mingi, who was enjoying wrecking havoc on his dongsaengs body.

When Mingi's hands slowed, slowly crawling from his hipbones upwards, Wooyoung's giggles quietened, and he looked at Mingi with pleading eyes.

"Please don't," he begged, lightly kicking his legs, "pleaseee!"

Mingi was deaf to his pleading, and ten fingers soon found themselves in the younger's armpits. A high pitched squeal left his mouth, causing Jongho to cringe.

"Jesus, that was loud!"

"WEHEHELL, ITS YOHOHOUR DAHAMN FAHAHAHAULT! STOOOOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOP!"

"Nah," Mingi replied casually, moving down to tweak at his ribs again. Wooyoung would yell whenever Mingi's hands found their way back to his armpits, and after around 10 more minutes he stopped, letting Wooyoung take a breather.

As Wooyoung gulped in air, chest heaving, Mingi wriggled down his body, til he was sat on the younger's knees. By the time Wooyoung realised what he was doing, he was immobile from the waist down.

"No," he whined, "Mingi stop! Haven't you had enough??"

"Don't even try and tell me you don't enjoy this," Mingi chuckled, laughing even harder at the flush that appeared on the younger's face as he tried to deny it. "And you especially like ittttttt here!!"

Mingi's fingers started to attack the inside of Wooyoung's thighs, which immediately tensed and trembled, unable to escape. Wooyoung was shrieking, bouncing as much as he could when he was restrained from both ends. His feet drummed on the floor, and he couldn't even get any words out, just shrieking with laughter like a maniac. Jongho, starting to get bored, also started to spider his fingers along Wooyoung's tummy, revelling in pinching the slight pudge that he had. Tickling a pudgy tummy when you're in an idol group is hard, because most of them have abs, so it was rare to pass up an opportunity to tickle Wooyoung's adorable soft belly. Wooyoung's eyes started tearing up, and he shook his head from side to side, pleading when he could, although they barely sounded like words. When Jongho and Mingi finally let up, he just wheezed on the floor for a solid minute, absolutely exhausted. Jongho and Mingi sat either end of him, smiling fondly. Mingi laughed out loud when Wooyoung just fell asleep, and Jongho grinned, picking up the smaller effortlessly and dropping him on the bed.

"We didn't even get his feet, Jjong!"

Seonghwa and Yunho took a more... direct approach at finding their prey. They scoped out the entire dorm, eventually finding him in the computer room, playing a game online with his friends. They hid behind the oblivious younger, who was too busy chatting.

"Changbin, he's behind you! Get him, get him!! Oh god I'm out of bullets no no no!! Yeonjun, can you drop some for me?"

They could hear vague responses through the youngers headset, and were aching to attack, but they weren't that mean. After roughly ten minutes, the winning screen popped up, and San jumped about in his seat from excitement.

"Yes! We did i-AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"

Yunho and Seonghwa had leapt into action, dragging him off the chair and leaving the headset nearby, so his friends would know he wasn't being murdered.

"Hyung, why did you do that?" San pouted, rubbing at his rear where he landed. Without responding, Seonghwa pounced on the youngers wrists, pinning them under his knees.

"Hyung what's happening?" The slender male asked, highly confused at the situation.

However when Yunho started moving towards his hips, his eyes went big, and he started struggling ten fold.

"No no no hyung pleaseeeeeeee don't!"

"Sorry baby, everyone else has been hit though!"

Nervous giggles left San's mouth as Yunhos fingers descended, never making contact but the teasing being unbearable. Huge squeaky laughter erupted when the fingers met his stomach, making both the elders smile due to its infectious nature.

"Awww see you've got a shirt on. That's not fair!" Yunho whined, causing San to retort, "it's plenty fair- AAAA NOHOHOHOHO!" Yunho managed to slip his fingers under the loose grey shirt, spidering his way across the youngers tummy. He pushed it up so the flat expanse of skin was easily available.

"As much as I love Yeosang, you have better reactions to this."

San couldn't ask what due to his panting, but Yunho blowing a raspberry directly on his navel was answer enough.

"OH GOHOHOHOHOHOD! YUNHOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He squealed, bucking up and trying to escape.

"Don't try to escape!" Seonghwa laughed, pulling him up by his wrists and placing them behind the elders head. Before San could move his arms down, Seonghwa quickly attacked his armpits, causing San to squeak and pull his arms down, attempting to curl up despite Yunho still blowing raspberries all over his abdomen.

"See, now I'm stuck!" Seonghwa laughed, wriggling his fingers. San shrieked, the combined sensations wrecking havoc on his body. Laughter could be heard from the headset abandoned on the floor, and San flushed even more, struggle to escape renewed. "Come on, lift up your arms! Let me out!"

"I cahahahahan't!" San giggled as Yunho stopped blowing raspberries, instead nibbling ticklishly at his prominent ribs. "Stohohohohohop!"

"Tell you what," Seonghwa bargained, "When I can pull my hands out we'll stop ok? That's all you gotta do."

"Nohohohot fahahahahair!"

"I think it's plenty fair," Yunho grinned, swirling a finger around San's tummy. "Go on Sannie!"

San tried to lift up his arms, clearly struggling but determined to do it. By the time he got halfway, Yunho blew another raspberry on his bellybutton, causing them to fly straight back down.

"NOHOHOHOHOHO YUNHO!!"

"Sorry, sorry Sannie!" He chuckled, returning his fingers to his side. He mischievously glanced at Seonghwa, "Why not try again?"

It took 8 tries for San to finally get his arms up, and true to his word Seonghwa pulled his hands out. San collapsed against Seonghwas shoulder, panting heavily.

"You good?" The eldest chuckled, wrapping his hands around his waist and lightly rubbing his tummy, like the younger enjoyed.

San huffed, grumbling out "sleepy" in a quiet voice.

Yunho chuckled, telling Seonghwa to put him to bed as he logged off the game. San's friends were laughing through the headphones as he explained why they were logging off, amused at the goings on in the dorm.

"Do you guys ever leave them alone?" Changbin teased, "That's the 8th time in two weeks!"

Yunho laughed back, saying, "What else are we supposed to do in quarantine?"

"God you guys are evil," Yeonjun chuckled, "Can't believe you tickled him so much he got sleepy."

"Ok maybe we're a little bit evil." Yunho laughed, ending the call.

Yunhooooo: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years

Text

A Forest Interlude Chapter 24 - The Missing Bride

Summary: Eleonore (OFC) discovers a wounded man in the woods near her home and seeks to heal him. Little does she know that it is none other than the heir to the throne, Prince Hal of England.

Chapter: 24 of 28

Rated E

Warnings: smut, sex fluff, angst, oral sex, fingering, hand jobs

(spoiler - don’t worry, it will all work out okay in the end)

In this chapter: Hal confronts his past behavior with Poins, and discovers the abduction of his darling wife.

Read the entire story on AO3

@nrthmnsplbnd09 ; @nonsensicalobsessions @yespolkadotkitty@just-the-hiddles @from-hel-i-with-love livviedoo@hopelessromanticspoonie @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen@dangertoozmanykids101 @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken@thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @vodka-and-some-sass @shiningloki@hiddlesholic @isitmadnessrpg

If he clenched his jaw any harder Hal was convinced all of his teeth would break. This was not at all how he had anticipated the afternoon proceeding. The warm bath that he had so looked forward to sharing with his eager wife was bordering on cold, and instead of her soft moans his ears were being assaulted with a steady string of mindless prattle from Ned Poins.

Ned, who was by some reckoning his closest companion. Who definitely was the his most frequent co-conspirator and partner in crime. How that had come to be the case, Hal was having a difficult time remembering now, for he found the steady stream of malicious gossip and cruel innuendo falling from the other man's lips grating to him. A month or two ago Hal would have been laughing at his latest conquest of some poor, unsuspecting baker's wife. Ned had managed to convince the woman that he wanted to run away with her in order to bed her, only to deny any such plans when her husband caught them, mid tryst. Now, Hal merely felt sorry for the poor woman. Her life had been ruined simply because she had a nice pair of breasts that had managed to catch the wandering eye of a bored noble.

A blessed silence stretched as Hal quickly washed himself, regretting it was not Nell's hands wandering over his body, all soapy and searching. He gave a soft sigh at the thought, his cock half heartedly twitching, and was met with a snort of derision. Looking up, he saw Ned was staring at him with shuttered, cynical eyes.

"I'll give you this, your wife's a pretty piece," Poins said, a twist of his lips substituting for a smile, "though not, for me, enough to risk a ring. Was wedding her in truth the only way that she would open up her legs to you? If so, I hope the prize was worth the price, for to my mind she's a controlling wench."

"I'll tell you once the same I told the king," Hal said, rising from the tub, naked and dripping, and crossing to tower over his friend in anger, "I will not hear a word against her Ned. Nell is my wife, and I do love her well. You would be wise to bear that thought in mind, or this my first will see to it you learn."

"A thousand pardons Hal, I meant no harm!" Ned replied quickly, raising both hands in defense and stepping back. "I see you are much taken with her now. Though I profess to hear you speak of love, and have the words be so sincerely meant, doth hardly reconcile with my old friend."

"I do suppose you have some cause in that," Hal was forced to admit, as he snatched up a bath sheet and began toweling himself dry. "When I think now of what my life hath been, and how I so mistreated the fair sex, I do begin to almost hate myself."

"Mistreat them? Hal, I hardly would say that!" Ned laughed. "For I was near at hand as oft as not, and from the sounds you brought forth out of them, those ladies that you tumbled for a night had nothing to complain of in your bed!"

Hal cursed himself for thinking that Ned would understand what he was saying. He did not mean that he had hurt the women, heaven forbid! Nor even that he had not done his best to make sure that they came away from the encounter thoroughly satisfied. It was just that he had never given a one of them any thought once the random coupling had ended. He had never wondered if they pined for him, or if he was getting in the way of a relationship that might bring them more joy in the long term. Short of doing his best to ensure that their were no royal bastards to follow him about, he had taken his pleasure without any further worry.

"I hope that you are right, but who can say?" was all he answered now, knowing it was useless to share his thoughts with the other.

"Well, I am going now to Jocelyn's," Ned said, laying back on Hal's bed with a groan. "Her babe at last is weaned, so now's my chance. Perhaps I'll ask her for you, if you like, if she did feel disgraced by your hand."

Apparently Ned thought this a capital joke from the way he laughed. Hal managed a grimace that passed for a smile and began dressing absentmindedly. Jocelyn was a lusty woman, and ran a thriving brothel. She was not the type that Hal had been worrying over hurting. All the same, he wished Ned would show her some respect.

"No doubt you will have other things to say," Hal suggested with a raised eyebrow, "and will not need to fall back on my name."

"Oh I do not plan to say much at all! My mouth shall be much happier employed. But come, shall you go with me good sweet prince? I hear she has a new girl in her house, a redhead with an ardency to match. I'm sure the girl would count it quite a coup if she could snare a prince into her bed."

"I have no need for whores, I thank you Ned. I am, if you recall, a man now wed."

"Well yes, I know that you did take a wife," Ned looked at him in almost comical alarm, "but surely that need not affect you much. Nell need not know whereto we two are bound, tis not like she will hear it from your whore! And I should think she may think it relief that she must not see to your needs today."

"You do not mark me, so I'll say it plain. There will from now be no more whores for me. I fear you must seek for another man to bear you company in your pursuits."

"But Hal, you must be playing at some jest - you surely do not mean you plan to be a faithful husband to your loving wife?"

"Yet that is just exactly what I mean," he nodded. "Now that the gods have granted me my heart, I would not put such happiness at risk by wasting of my time with random whores or ladies who would cast themselves at me. I want but one fair damsel in my bed, and much to my eternal wonderment, that woman is none other than my wife."

Ned stared at him in stunned disbelief. Hal knew that he deserved no less, and once more felt his shame rise. He could not truly fault Poins. Even discounting Hal's reputation as a rake, very few men of his rank were completely faithful to their wives. He supposed it came with the territory when most marriages were arranged more for money and alliances than for affection. He was a man most blessed that his life's companion was the owner of his very soul.

"My lord, my lord! I must see you at once!" Cecil demanded, barging into the room in a most undignified fashion quite at odds with his usual reserved bearing.

"What is it man? Here, sit and catch you breath," he instructed as his man doubled over and wheezed.

"There is no time, her Highness, Princess Nell..." Cecil gasped out, causing Hal's heart to stop beating.

"What Nell? Why what is wrong? Sir, speak to me!" he demanded, fear like a cold finger on his spine. "Is it the babe? Has she come to some harm?"

"No, no my prince, tis not as bad as that," Cecil hastened to assure him. "A troop of guard appeared here at our gate, and did insist that she should go with them!"

"What, take her from her home? I'll kill them all! Where were our own men that they stopped them not?"

"Your grace, she went with them of her own will, for they were dressed in colors of the king, and his own sigil did bedeck their breasts! Only the gateman knew what did occur until she had acceded to their will. Poor lad, he is beside himself in fear that he did put her life somehow at risk."

Hal began littering the air with every curse he knew. There had been no direct word from his father since their frightful encounter on his wedding day, and the lack of condemnation had lulled him into a false sense of security. It had never occurred to him that Henry would do something so extreme as to send armed guards to abduct Nell from their home! What could he possibly hope to gain by doing any such thing?

"Have Strumpet saddled for me straight away," he commanded Cecil, pulling his boots on as he spoke. "I ride at once to see our revered king. I hope he has some reason for this act, as patricide is still a grievous sin. But if he has caused any harm to her, I will not answer for my own reply."

"Your horse is waiting for you in the yard. It was not hard to think what you would do."

"I thank you, Cecil. Ned, I bid you well. You must excuse me, for I now depart."

"I would not think to keep you from your bride," Ned said with an odd voice Hal could not quite place, but thought might contain humor. He supposed seeing him cast as the avenging husband might seem humorous to someone else. To himself it was deadly serious.

Cecil was as good as his word, and Hal's favorite horse was saddled and waiting for him. It took him very little time to ride to the palace. Even were he not known on sight through most of London, one look at his furious face was enough to clear all out of his path. When he arrived at the castle, he threw his reins to a random groom and stormed inside, beating a path for the presence chamber. Not waiting to be announced, he thrust open the doors and barged inside.

"Where is she sir, for I will have her back!" he hurled the words at the old man sitting on the throne like a spear.

Henry, who until that moment had been in deep conversation with his master of coin, started in his seat as though a dragon had burst into his throne room, and indeed Hal looked like one. When he realized the accosting person was in fact his eldest son, his face turned red and his eyes lit with rage. Still, his voice was clam and cutting as he addressed Hal.

"You should be whipped for lack of manners, boy. Do you not know to whom it is you speak? How dare you come before us in such state, and so abuse our royal presence thus?"

"Forgive me if I do not curtsey, sir," Hal sneered, as the gathered court looked on in shock. "Perhaps if you had not kidnapped my wife I might have time for courtliness and grace."

"Has all the sac you drink gone to your brain?" his father demanded, glaring at him. "Why, tell me boy, would I abduct your wife?"

"Why that you must tell me, for I know not!"

"And do you see her here, you foolish sot? I have not set my eyes upon the girl since I did see you both the day you wed."

"Is this the truth? You did not send for her?"

"I have no need to lie to you, you wretch! In truth I have done all that I could do to put the two of you far from my mind!"

"Then this is even worse than I did fear!"

Hal was completely lost now. When he thought that his father had taken Nell, he had feared for their future, but never for her physical safety. Say what you would about Henry, and Hal had, but he was not a threat to women. The worst he had imagined was that his father intended to ship her off to a convent and dissolve their union. If it was someone else... the possibilities were as dark as they were endless.

"What put it in your head that I had her?" Henry's voice sounded begrudgingly concerned.

"The gateman said that guards did come for her, dressed in the livery of your own house."

"Flat lies, and that you can see for yourself! Why, you have known Renaldo all your life and here he stands as he has done all day. If I had sent my men on such a task as would require discretion in to be done, as to abduct my son's wife from their home, think you I would entrust it not to him?"

Hal had to admit his father had a point. Renaldo had been with them since Hal was a boy, as faithful to Henry as he was circumspect. His father was far too fussy to allow such an act as Hal was accusing him of to be done in a way to cause talk among the public. If he had sent for Nell, it would have been Renaldo that retrieved her.

Hal's mind spun. It made no sense. Who would want to take Nell? Could it be Northumberland, angry at the cancelled wedding? Or perhaps the Earl of Kent who he had provoked at the market? He could not think clearly, not when the dearest person on the globe was in such peril.

"But said your man that they were dressed as us?" Renaldo asked now, voice sounding almost concerned as he looked at Hal with searching eyes. "What men would have free access to our garb? My men are quartered close unto the king, and only one admitted to those rooms could hope to take one jerkin, far less six"

Six. They had been dressed in uniforms of Henry's household. And their had been six of them. Slowly, Hal lowered his head into his hands and laughed an almost unhinged laugh.

"I am as foolish, Sire, as you think," he said, shaking his head. "I pray you all, forget this freakish start. I did not mean to so disrupt your day. I'll leave you now and cause no more discord."

"I am, I think, an explanation owed," Henry said in a wry voice. "You do, I take it, know who has your wife?"

"I do believe I do, and if I'm right, they shall regret the day they hatched their plan."

"Renaldo then shall go along with you," Henry surprised Hal by saying. "She is, for now, a member of my house, and as such we cannot allow insult. When you have her extracted from this mess, I will expect you all to return here. I have some words which I would say to thee."

Hal did not miss the formal tone on the end of his father's decree, but for now he had more important matters to attend to. The pieces had fallen into place, and he was reasonably certain that he knew just where he would find Nell. Heaven help the men when he got there.

#the hollow crown #the hollow crown fic #Henry V #Prince Hal #Prince Hal/OFC #Romance #Historical Romance #Historical AU #Tom Hiddleston #Smut #fluff #angst #royal families #forbidden marriage #love #true love wins

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until-theend-oftheline · 5 years

Text

Family Moment

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Mention of idiot ex-boyfriend

Square Filled: Clothes Sharing for @marvelfluffbingo and Childhood Friends (Marvel Fandom) for @goodthingshappenbingo

Word Count: 2500ish

A/N: This is a way overdue 1-year anniversary celebration fic written for @becs-bunker - sorry I am being so slow with these.

Betaed by: @super100012 thanks, hun!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Chris felt relaxed and at ease being back home in Boston. He loved his job, he wouldn’t trade it if he had the chance but it was still good to be home where he was just Chris. Where he was just an annoying brother, a loving son and loyal best friend.

Your best friend. You and Chris had known each other most of your lives. The first time you’d met Chris he had been busy messing with his unsuspecting little brother. Chris had been seven years old at the time while you were only five and the same age as his brother who you knew from school. You had also known Chris was Scott’s older brother but that hadn’t stopped your acute sense of justice from walking straight across the playground and hitting Chris over the back of the head before he could push his poor blindfolded little brother backward down the slide. Chris hadn’t been hurt but had jumped in surprise, turning around to see a messy-haired little girl with her arms crossed and a pout on her face.

Chris smiled at the memory as he walked his excited dog towards your house. From that day the three of you had been inseparable. Chris adored you even if your presence makes his favorite activity of messing with his brother a lot harder. Even worse as you grew older you started in on the mischief, ganging up with Scott against him.

To this day it hadn’t changed all that much even if you were now a single mom to a five-year-old little girl. Your pregnancy had been an accident and the asshole boyfriend you had been with at the time had run for the hills. You, however, had chosen to carry through with your pregnancy and Chris had done everything he could to support you.

He wasn’t able to visit every day because of his job, but whenever he was home he spent as much time with you as he could. You wouldn’t take his money, so instead, he had to be creative, gifting you things he knew you needed. As much as you always scolded him for his generosity he also knew you appreciated it. A huge gift to you didn’t mean all that much to Chris. His job did come with benefits even if it also robbed him of other things, such as privacy and time with his loved ones.

None of those things was something he was willing to think about today though. Today he was just excited to see you and Josephine again.

“Hello?” Chris knocked on the door before pushing it open. He had a key and he knew you were fine with him coming and going as he pleased when he was home, just like he was with you doing the same in his house. Still, he didn’t want to scare you so he liked to make his presence known before he released the excited puppy from his leash.

Dodger made a beeline for the living room and Chris smiled as he heard you and Josephine start laughing as the dog attacked you both with kisses.

“Chris… Help,” you laughed lying on your back on the floor with Josephine hiding under your arm and Dodger on top of you. He kept jumping around to give you both as many kisses as possible as you both laughed as you tried to avoid a tongue in mouth situation.

“That’s a good boy,” Chris praised laughingly. He sent you a wink as you shoot him a glare, struggling to calm down the dog. Meanwhile, Josephine had managed to escape and ran straight into Chris' arms as he squatted down ready for the collision.

“Chris!!” she cheered, throwing her arms around his neck. Chris laughed standing up with the little girl in his arms, hugging her close.

“I missed you, Josie,” Chris admitted, making the little girl cling even harder to him.

“I missed you too,” she whispered with her face buried against his neck.

“I still need help,” you whined still squirming beneath the excited puppy making Chris and Josephine both laugh again.

“Dodger! That tickles. Stop it,” you laughed trying to catch your breath.

“What do you say? Should we go save mommy?” Chris asked, putting the little girl down when she nodded.

“Dodger come,” she called, and Dodger instantly stopped his assault looking over his shoulder towards the little girl. “We’re doing a runway show. You need to be dressed up too,” she explained and the unknowing dog happily followed her with his tail wagging in excitement.

“Oh no.” Chris laughed, as they both disappeared, “poor Dodger.”

“Poor Dodger? Poor me!” you objected drying your face with your sleeve, before reaching up to a hand for Chris to pull you back onto your feet. As soon as he did you wrapped your arms around his neck and Chris closed his eyes as he embraced you.

“Miss me too?” you teased, looking up at him and Chris' heart skipped a beat when he reopened his eyes to see yours shining up at him. He was in love with you, it just hadn’t ever seemed like the right time to let you know that. Or maybe it was just Chris being a complete and utter coward, afraid that he would lose your friendship if he let go of that secret.

“Every day,” he admitted and your face split into a huge smile as he stood on your toes kissing his cheek before hugging him again.

“Me too.”

“Mom are you ready?” Josephine’s voice sounded from the other room and you broke the hug, taking Chris’ hand.

“Two seconds darlin’” you yelled back as you lead Chris to the couch, tugging him to sit with you.

“She was doing a fashion show when your vicious dog attacked us,” you teased and Chris playfully rolled his eyes, smirking down at you.

“Oh yeah, he is so dangerous. He might slobber someone to death one day,” Chris teased, making you giggle.

“Well, he came close today. His tongue went up my nose,” you whined and pouted when Chris threw his head back against the sofa, clutching his chest as he laughed at you.

“That’s not funny Evans,” you scolded, but couldn’t help but smile. His laugh was contagious and you loved having him back in your home. You only wished it was for good rather than a visit. If only Chris knew just how deeply you cared for him. He didn’t and you didn’t want to push him away, by admitting to the girl crush that had never gone away.

Instead, you tore your eyes from him and towards your daughter’s room calling out for her, “We’re ready when you are honey!”

You couldn’t help but giggle when Part of Your World started playing. Josie adored Chris. She had from the moment she was born and his love of Disney had most certainly rubbed off on her.

“That’s my girl,” Chris mumbled as he kept his eyes on the door, not noticing the smile on your face widen. You loved Chris but more than that you loved that he was in your daughter’s life. She didn’t have a father, but in a way she still did and even if Chris wasn’t biologically related to her, Josephine still had a better dad than most little girl’s in your eyes. It had been his choice to be in Josephine’s life as much as he had been and you adored him all the more for it. You weren’t sure he knew just how much easier and better he had made your life these past six years. It wasn’t about his gifts that he kept sneaking into your house. You appreciated the new bed for your kid, the upgrades to your kitchen, school things and everything else he had gotten you without you asking, but it was his company that made all the difference. It was him being here on everyday afternoons like today. It was him picking up your kid when she fell and him holding you when life got hard. It was the calls and facetiming both you and your daughter when he was on set. It was laughing with you and making your daughter’s life an adventure every time he came around.

You were broken from your thoughts as Dodger came rushing through the room wearing one of Josephine’s dresses, skipping right into Chris’ arms with a miserable look on his face.

“Aww Bubba,” Chris laughed along with you, rubbing the dog’s face in his hands. “What did she do to you?”

“You’re such a good patient boy aren’t you?” you praised, petting Dodger sitting in Chris’ lap. “I’m gonna cook you a special dinner tonight for that,” you promised, making Chris laugh.

“Do I get a special dinner to if I wear one of your dresses?” he asked with a wink, making you roll your eyes at him.

“No. Cause you would do it voluntarily and most likely ruin it in the process. Which would mean you are cooking me dinner then,” you grinned.

“Mooom. Chriiis,” your daughter’s head poked out of her door. “Pay attention to me.”

“Sorry sweetheart,” you and Chris spoke in unison, both giggling as you realized but never taking your eyes off the door, where Josephine quickly appeared.

She strutted through the door across the room, spinning around in front of you before crossing her arms across her chest, grinning cheekily up at you both and Chris’ heart skipped a beat.

He loved that little girl so much and at that moment he saw five-year-old you clear as day in her and that certainly didn’t make his love for her lesson.

“What do you think?” she asked with hair sticking out everywhere, from the colorful elastic bands she had put in it. Different color eyeshadow, and lipstick smeared across her lips, which she had most likely stolen from her room and Chris chuckled as he realized Dodger had actually been quite lucky he had escaped with only a dress.

“I think you look absolutely beautiful,” you said, grinning when Dodger changed laps giving you a miserable look. You decided to take pity on the poor pooch and started freeing him of his dress as Chris lifted Josephine onto his lap.

“You look like a Disney princess. Absolutely stunning,” Chris praised, making the little girl’s face split into a huge proud smile. His opinion on everything she did meant the world to her. “Is that my shirt?” he asked with a grin tugging the button up Josephine was using as a dress, helped by one of your belts.

“Dunno,” she answered with a shrug. “It was in mom’s closet.”

“Was it now?” Chris teased looking over at you, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw the blush in your cheeks as you refused to look at him. Chris wasn’t sure what this meant but he knew your next words was a lie and a small hope ignited in his chest.

“You must have left it over here at some point,” you shrugged, letting Dodger, now dress free jump from your lap. “Josie go get Dodger a handful of treats. He has been a good boy and you can have a cookie too while you are in the kitchen,” you ordered your daughter who happily nodded, jumping off Chris lap before calling the dog’s name and he trotted after her a little apprehensive this time.

“I didn’t leave it here,” Chris said carefully before you could say anything else but after Josephine was out of earshot.

“Chris…” you started, but he interrupted you.

“I know that because I wore it the day before I left. I put it in the wash at my place,” Chris pressed and you sighed.

“You’re not letting this go are you?” you asked, fighting your tears and still not looking at him.

“Do you want me to drop it?” Chris asked, tenderly reaching out tugging your hair behind your ear so he could see your face. “I’m not mad Y/N/N. Just curious why you took it?”

“Because I missed you,” you blurted it. “It smells like you and wearing your clothes sometimes makes me feel as if…” You managed to stop yourself in time biting your lip, still not looking over at the man next to you.

Chris however, had grown bolder, gently caressing your cheek before cupping your chin between two fingers guiding you to look at him. The softness and adoration in his blue eyes completely took your breath away.

“As if what?” Chris' voice was barely above a whisper now as he struggled with himself not to just lean in and kiss you. He couldn’t. He needed to be sure. You and Josie were too important to him to mess this up.

“As if we are really a family,” you looked down. “As if you were my boyfriend.” Finally saying that out loud scared the shit out of you but it also felt as if a weight had been lifted your heart. All your life there was nothing you hadn’t told Chris. Nothing except for the way you had really come to feel about him.

“I love you,” Chris blurted out not knowing what else to say and no longer able to keep those words in.

“What?” you looked up at him. Completely baffled. Off all the things you had thought he might say that hadn’t been it.

“I love you,” Chris repeated. Slower and more confident this time.

“And I would love nothing more than for us to be a real family. For you to be my girlfriend,” Chris spoke as he tenderly caressed your cheek but jumped back as your fist landed against his arm.

“Hey! What was that for?” he rubbed his arm as he glared at you glaring back at him.

“Why haven’t you said anything?” you accused.

“Why haven’t you?” Chris fired back as the two of you stared each other down before you both started laughing.

Chris jumped back when you reached out to him, with a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Not gonna hit me again are you?”

“No you goof,” you rolled your eyes, “I was gonna kiss you but if that’s how it’s gonna be…”

You squealed when Chris suddenly wrapped his arm around your waist, lifting you into his lap before you could finish the sentence.

“Don’t do that,” you scolded, as Chris threw his head back in laughter.

“Revenge,” he chuckled before cupping your face in his hands and your heart skipped when you realized how close he was. “Can I kiss you?”

You swallowed harshly, as you nodded and Chris’ face lit up in the most beautiful smile before he leaned up pressing his lips carefully against yours. Just like that the rest of the world melted away as you wrapped your arms around his neck, happily letting Chris deepen the kiss. Your first kiss of many. Your first kiss of forever.

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Chris Evans Tag Team

@feelmyroarrrr @princess-evans-addict @thejourneyneverendsx @roxyspearing @jewels2876 @captainsamwlsn @girl-next-door-writes @hellaqueerangelofthelord @danijimenezv @cd1242 @mizzzpink @janeyboo @becs-bunker @smoothdogsgirl @blacktithe7 @ifyougetkilled-walk-it-off @grace-for-sale @scarletlingeries @mizzezm @readitandweepfics @averyrogers83 @sorenmarie87 @docharleythegeekqueen @erosbellarke @the-wayward-robot @super100012 @myfanficlibrarium @achishisha @patzammit @awkwardfangirl2014 @ishipmybed @dottirose @panicatttckiss @kimmiestrawberrykiwi

#chris x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #mcu rpf #marvelfluffbingo #goodthingshappenbingo

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littlemisssquiggles · 4 years

Note

Hey squiggle I watched a livestream review of chapter 9 on youtube that said that Cinder would most likely go after Oscar for the relic and while Neo tries to attack ruby or maybe they both would attack him placing oscar in danger....what are ypur thoughts...

Heyo Dagger! Hmm. Here’s the thing with that from my perspective:

I’ve never gotten the impression that Cinder cared that much about gathering the Relics. The only time we’ve seen her pursue them was on behalf of Salem. But now that Salem has disowned her former apprentice, Cinder is left to her own devices and as far as I know as provided by evidence within the series, Cinder’s previously established goals were killing Ruby Rose and acquiring all the Maiden magic for herself.

No season highlighted this more for me than V5. I mean Cinder couldn't even keep her megalomaniac behaviour under wraps long enough for the Vault of the Spring Maiden to be opened. The instant Vernal had her back turned and Raven let her guard down, Cinder killed Vernal in her first attempt at pilfering the Spring Maiden magic.

With this in mind, the only incentive I can picture Cinder targeting Oscar with the Relic of Knowledge for is so that she can probably force our poor little barn prince into using the lamp to gain knowledge on the identity and whereabouts of Fria—the Winter Maiden. Since Salem has never successfully gathered any of the Relics, it’s safe to assume that she doesn’t know anything on the kind of powers each Relic possesses. All she probably does know is what Ozma originally disclosed to her during the events of the Lost Fable—bring all four Relics together to summon back the Brothers to place judgment on humanity. And with the God of Light’s warning to Ozma regarding the destruction of Remnant in the face of humanity in chaos, my main presumption is that that’s what Salem wants.

That being said, if Salem didn’t know how the Relics work then I assume neither did her subordinates. This is inclusive of Cinder. So even if Cinder were to somehow pilfer the Relic of Knowledge from Oscar, I doubt it’ll be of any real use to her since she doesn’t know how the Relic works at all. The only way I can picture Cinder acquiring the Relic and gaining the knowledge she desires is by abducting Oscar since he knows what the Relic can do and how to summon Jinn. I can see Cinder taking Oscar hostage in an attempt to force him to tell her how to summon Jinn. However Oscar playing brave refuses to tell Cinder anything no matter what threats she throws his way.

Infuriated, this leads Cinder to her back up plan —using Oscar as bait to lure out her main target—Ruby Rose.

Since working alone honestly didn’t fare well for Cinder last time, I’m going to assume that this is the one time Cinder might heed Raven’s old advice and stick close to Neo so that she could make more use of her little pawn.

I can picture Cinder and Neo working together to get the Relic from Oscar first. However, when they fail to unlock its power; with no dice from Oscar either, the Fire and Ice-cream Duo decide to switch tactics to a more ‘kill two birds with one stone’ type of deal. Not only is the Relic now in their possession but they also had Oscar—a friend to Ruby Rose— who they can now use to lure the unsuspecting little red rose into a trap. So that’s how I can see Oscar being placed in danger with Cinder and Neo. But that’s only if they go after the Relic first.

Here’s what I think could happen using the Relic headcanon:

In V7CH9, Ironwood told Oscar specifically to return to Atlas Academy. The PLOT made sure to draw attention to that very detail.

“…Oscar, I think it’s time you get back to the academy.”“I think you’re right.”

The General also informed everyone that he was going to see to stopping Watts and Tyrian himself. Whether that means that the General will be doing that on foot or not, I’m assuming that Ironwood is probably going to take his own airship and scout Mantle for Tyrian and Watts specifically. The PLOT made sure to highlight that little detail too.

“…What about Watts and Tyrian?”“Leave them to me.”

That being said, while James goes out to find Watts and Tyrian, I’m assuming Oscar will be taking his own separate transport to return to the Academy. Or…so we’re lead to believe. If I remember correctly from the end of last volume, Cinder and Neo are supposed to have their own air ship. Either way, it all sounds like Oscar will be alone at Atlas Academy.

So for the sake of where I’m going with this hunch, let’s say—either on the way to the academy or from the moment he returned safely to the academy, Oscar is assaulted by Neo and Cinder.

Let’s say…the horrible thing Neo ends up doing is using her illusions to trick Oscar into thinking she was Ruby (or another female character else he would openly trust and let his guard down under).Then while Oscar is distracted, Cinder sneaks up behind him and knocks him out.

With Oscar unconscious, Neo ensures to have the boy properly subdued while Cinder takes hold of Oscar’s Scroll. Let’s say…Oscar was keeping abreast of everyone’s progress down in Mantle from Atlas, using JNR or RNJR as his key correspondence. With Oscar’s Scroll, Cinder contacts Ruby.

Down in Mantle, Ruby receives an incoming call from contact handle “Cute Boy Oz” or “Cute Farm Boy”. Thinking it’s Oscar checking in, Ruby answers only for her heart to drop when it’s Cinder’s menacing voice she hears on the other line.

Let’s say…Cinder gives Ruby an instruction she had no choice but to complywith. The Fall Maiden basically threatens Ruby to come alone to a specific spot in Mantle without telling her comrades anything, otherwise Cinder would kill Oscar; just like how she killed Ozpin.

So for the second time in the plot, Ruby is forced to lie—this time to her comrades as she heads off on her own to save Oscar from Cinder. However when Ruby arrives in the exact location Cinder told her to meet her, instead of finding Cinder waiting for her with a hostage Oscar, the little red rose encounters only an illusion of Cinder with Oscar that immediately shatters the moment shemakes contact with it as Neo appears before her.

Cinder did tell Neo that she would leave the killing of Ruby up to her. So this is where they would duke it out. Meanwhile, somewhere else, Cinder is observing the battle from afar with Oscar still out cold and retrained in the background. However Oscar eventually regains consciousness. Let’s say…similar to the airship crash back in Argus, Oz returns once again to help Oscar when the ole soul sensed that his younger protégé was in mortal danger. Let’s say…Oscar only wakes up because he heard Oz’s voice screaming desperately for him to open his eyes.

Long story short, let’s say…with Oz’s help, Oscar gets the upper hand on Cinder before making his daring escape.

Taking notice of Ruby’s battle with Neo from over yonder Mantle, let’s say…Oscar tries his best to make it to Ruby’s side to help her out while trying to manoeuvre his way around Mantle to outrun a pursuing Cinder Fall now gone full Maiden form again—thus sparking their inevitable rematch too.

I’m still iffy on the whole concept of Fire and Ice-cream going after the Relic first since Ruby has been their established target since V6. I have a greater chance at believing they’d take Oscar purely to lure out Ruby, with the fact that he has the Relic being a key reason for them to target him specifically out of all of Ruby’s friends.

Since y’know, after they use Oscar to get to Ruby and kill her, they can always kill Oscar afterwards and take the Relic. Two little birds with one stone, as I said.

That and the fact that Oscar is also the most vulnerable right now since everyone will be down in Mantle (including Ironwood). That’s how I can picture things going down in the event that Cinder and Neo do go after Oscar first.

Overall, this squiggle meister just wants to see the Rosebuds vs Fire and Ice-cream in the Rematch of the century. All so it can possibly culminate in the following:

Oscar unlocking his semblance to save Ruby.

Oscar and Ozpin possibly fighting together as one with Oz lending Oscar his power to fully make use of the true power of the Long Memory.

Oscar defeating Cinder and withdrawing the Fall Maiden magic from her—unlocking his own magical potential while providing Cinder another incentive to hunt down the Winter Maiden for V8 (I have a feeling that Neo and Cinder will survive till V8. I can easily see Neo using the same illusion trick she pulled with Roman back in V2 to allow her time to escape with Cinder).

Oscar and Ruby sharing an actual “Rosegarden romance foreshadowing moment” together which parallels the scene from the Lost Fable where Ozma and Salem first fell in love after escaping the perils of the Lonely Tower together; thus hinting that Ruby and Oscar might be falling in love with each other after escaping Neo and Cinder after trying to save/protect each other.

Those are my views on that. I could be very wrong in my ideas on this but it’s worth a shot sharing, right? Hope it answers you all the same, Dagger.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

#squiggles answers: rwby #oscar pine #ruby rose #cinder fall #rwby neopolitan #rwby theories #rwby volume 7 theories #rwby volume 7 spoilers #rwby rosegarden #pinehead headcanons #squiggles' pinehead headcanons #daggerpawstudios #squiggles answers

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keeroo92 · 4 years

Text

Be My Nightmare Ch9

Freedom

Warnings for murder, gore and mutilation.

Word count - 3,487

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

________

---V---

Pine needles and loamy earth muffled his hurried steps. Quiet huffs slipped through his parted lips and metal warmed under his fingers as he kept the cuffs still. Somewhere not far behind him, shouts of alarm rang through the trees as staff members hunted him down like cattle.

But he was no one’s prey.

He was the predator.

They used an insipid grid pattern to search; it was child’s play to navigate around their movements. Honestly, how did they expect to find anything when they traipsed about so noisily? Even an imbecile would hear them coming.

It took him less than five minutes to get into position, crouched on a low hanging branch directly in line with the grid. Kelly’s death was a mere appetizer; it was time for the main course. He licked his lips and shifted his weight, eyeing his target as it approached without a clue.

“Section seventeen, clear,” the orderly said, holding a small walkie-talkie to his lips. Not standard issue; it was wise to wait.

Three… two… one… now!

The artist dropped onto the unsuspecting fool, the chain of his handcuffs serving as an excellent tool to crush the man’s trachea. He braced his legs on the man’s spine, using all his body weight to force the chain ever deeper, just to be sure. He couldn’t afford any mistakes.

Wet gurgles accompanied his victim’s pathetic clawing, vessels in his eyes popping as his face twisted into a lovely new arrangement of despair. V hummed happily and brought his lips to the dying man’s ear, shivering in delight as he chose the last sentence the man would ever hear.

“You should’ve stayed home today.”

A final gasp and the man went limp, falling forward into the dirt and leaves. A sadly bloodless death, but to be so up close, to feel the final heartbeat… there was no feeling like it.

The artist had total control in those moments.

How much things had changed in the time since school. The man he’d been never would have made it this far. He knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Ignorant and unaware, easily caught off guard and unable to respond quickly in a crisis. That man would’ve gotten himself killed months ago.

This ain’t the time, Van Gogh. Keep moving.

Griffon was right, he couldn’t tarry. No more distractions, not until he was out of their reach. He made quick work of the man’s pockets, taking the walkie talkie and a protein bar. No key, unfortunately, though that would’ve been far too easy.

The artist narrowed his eyes and chose a direction, darting in a mostly straight line through the trunks and foliage. If he went in the same direction long enough, he was bound to find civilization. Instead, he found the stone wall he glimpsed mere minutes before. Heavy blocks of unknown origin stacked in uneven patterns, pleasing to the eye but not to the touch. His hands slid right off.

“Damnit…”

A subtle roar and soft clatter of crystal echoed from his left. The brush of warm fur under his hands, prowling pawsteps as Shadow came to his aid. Her glowing eyes met his and her tail flicked across his face, her massive claws gouging a path for his hands in the accursed wall.

“Perfect timing,” he murmured, fingers already caressing the fresh crevasse left behind. Much better, plenty of friction now.

A few moments of clumsy scrabbling later and he crouched atop the stones. This was it. Freedom. No more restraints, no more Kevin. No more medication or group therapy sessions where he had to pretend to care about his fellows.

No more Y/N.

The thought gave him unexpected pause. While he planned to return and have his vengeance, there was no guarantee you would still be there when he did so. He may never see you again if he left. It ached, to imagine a life spent alone.

It doesn’t matter – you need to move!

Yet his legs refused to move. What a tragedy, for you to remain blind to all he had to offer. Perhaps he should’ve waited before spurring Ken into action, taken more time to show you his world. You showed so much promise…

A pulse of mind-numbing pain rippled across his flesh. His body was fire, his nerves magma and his blood, acid. The artist doubled over and clutched at his belly but it was too much. Saliva flooded his mouth as his stomach spasmed and reacquainted him with his most recent meal. If it weren’t for the vomit, he surely would’ve screamed and gotten himself caught.

“Move. Now.”

The agony faded and he wiped his mouth, searching for the source of the insidious voice. Jade eyes widened as he spotted gnarled feet encased in what might be armor, but the texture wasn’t quite right. It couldn’t be flesh, not in that blueish-black tone.

Ropes of muscle and sinew extended upward, outlandish hooks and spikes here and there. And, was that an eye?

The legs moved, stepping closer. Indeed, it was an eye. One of many blinking from the creature’s form in a hideous shade of orange. He’d never seen such a grotesque being, not even in his nightmares.

“Ur… Urizen?” he stuttered.

A clawed hand reached out to him, lifting his chin to meet the creature’s gaze. It’s eyes glowed with malevolent light and the artist shivered, suddenly glad the being was connected to him. As long as Urizen needed him, he was safe from his true cruelty.

“Indeed. Do as I command and I can end your suffering.”

An echo of his earlier agony twinged his mind, just enough to drive the point home. A feather’s caress in comparison yet still enough to force his eyes closed and drag a hiss from his throat.

When he opened his lids, Urizen was gone. He took one last look at the facility and turned away. Yes, it was regrettable that he had to leave you behind, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. His conflicted emotions weren’t the focus right now, only his continued movement.

Descending the other side proved far easier than climbing. More trees greeted him, soft grass and pine needles muffling his steps as he jogged away. All he had to do now was put some distance between himself and the facility, and then he’d need to figure out a hiding place. Perhaps a change in attire, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave his hands cuffed forever.

Hours passed in silence as he trekked ever onward. Even his friends remained silent. The stillness soothed him, he rarely had the pleasure of plotting in solitude.

At long last, with the tree’s shadows reaching for him as the sun set, he found it. A road, thankfully empty. If he were spotted now, with hands still cuffed and wearing the standard issue white linens of the facility, he’d end up right back in that accursed room.

Following the asphalt brought him to the edges of a city before the stars were fully visible. Perfect timing, he wouldn’t need to worry as much about passerby if everyone was safely indoors.

Safely…

The artist smirked. Now that he roamed the streets, none were truly safe. They’d learn to fear the night and dread the shadows. But first things first.

He ducked into a trash-strewn alley and slammed the walkie-talkie against the bricks, cracking the casing open to expose the circuitry and wiring. Several options confronted his gaze, but he settled for a pair of copper wires and got to work.

Within moments, he regained the ability to stretch his arms in any direction he liked, and he didn’t waste a second in doing so. One should never neglect the simple pleasures.

“C’mere, baby. This’ll work just fine,” said a man’s voice.

V crouched behind a dumpster instantly. A feminine giggle followed the voice, loud and careless footsteps growing closer. Poor lost souls, how unfortunate for them that they chose this alley on this night, when a predator lurked.

More giggles, the soft thud of a body pressed on stone. Rustling cloth and a quiet whimper of need.

Not yet… a moment more.

The artist shifted his weight and rolled his eyes. If they could just get on with it… How inconsiderate of them to take so long to lose themselves in pleasure.

“Ah! James, please!”

The woman sounded as impatient as he felt. What did they look like? His size, or would he need to find others? Better to be sure. Keeping to the shadows, he peeked around the metal that concealed him.

Perfect!

The man faced away, pinning the girl against the bricks and out of view. He looked to be slightly shorter than he, but with a similar build. Cropped hair did nothing to hide his gauged ears and tattooed neck, currently being assaulted by the young woman’s mouth. Her small hands pawed at the man’s leather jacket, pausing only to stroke the bulge between his legs. Muttered curses accompanied her efforts and even in the darkness, his reactive thrusts were obvious.

The two lacked any class whatsoever.

V watched in silence as the two exposed one another’s skin to the pale moonlight. He caught glimpses of the girl’s body, her milky skin and the delightful roundness of her chest. The man at least had good taste, physically speaking. Heat coiled in his gut, his cock a growing stiffness he refused to indulge until the work was done.

The moment he heard them gasp in unison, he made his move. With silent steps he crept behind the man and looped the chain of his cuffs around his neck. He would have preferred a knife, but desperate times…

“What the f-“

A sharp tug and all that remained was a corpse. The girl screamed, yet she was too foolish or terrified to run as her companion fell to the filthy ground. Without his body in the way, her full figure gleamed as if on display just for him. Truly, the universe was kind to provide him all he desired.

“Oh fuck! Oh, shit fuck what the fuck?!” she cried, utterly incoherent. No matter.

He slapped her, his eyes threatening endless horrors if she didn’t silence herself. With his other hand, he brought her shaking fingers to press against his cock, forcing her to stroke him and ease the ache even a fraction. Slowly, her curses and shouts turned to sobs and he smirked. Good enough.

Now, how best to use her? It’d been so long since he had such creative freedom. Perhaps… oh, how perfect.

A small clip held something inside the man’s pocket. The artist hummed and tugged it loose, chuckling as he flicked open the small blade. Could this night get any better? He doubted it.

“On your knees, girl. Right over there,” he ordered, a wicked grin twisting his lips as she obeyed.

He had to admit, she was quite beautiful, yet he would make her even more so. Without his tools, this would be far from his best work, but he’d make do. Images and ideas flowed though his mind and his heart raced in anticipation.

The girl squeaked as he joined her, towering over her huddled body. Silver glinted in his teeth where he held the knife, freeing his hands to explore her quivering body. He traced every curve and valley, planning his desecration. Stomach, thighs, ass, hips, all his to decorate however he pleased.

His fingers crept higher, tracing the roundness of her chest. A soft whimper slipped through her lips and he pinched, hard enough to bruise. Distractions would not be tolerated. She was his canvas; she should be thanking him for all she would become.

“P- please! Let me go!”

Forgetting the blade between his teeth, the artist clicked his tongue and winced as copper flooded his mouth. He took the blade in hand and dipped his other hand into his mouth. Waste not, want not.

“No,” he murmured, and then he traced the first mark on her pristine flesh using his own blood.

Her sobs intensified, broken by begging every few moments. The artist tried to focus through her mewling but the girl simply refused to be silent. He’d have to do something. An unplanned adjustment, but he could make it work.

He pried her stubborn jaws open and carved. He didn’t need to be careful, it’s not like she was going to need any of her mouth to work anyway. Blood flooded the cavity, her throat spasming as he sawed away at her tongue and anything that got in his way. Small, feminine hands scrabbled against his arm but she was far too weak, and he too strong.

Something gave way under his blade, the resistance of seconds ag gone. The girl tried to scream, but only wet gurgling resulted form her efforts. Tears and blood alike smeared her cheeks. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head before releasing her jaw, allowing her to cough up the gristle left behind.

He didn’t give her long.

---Reader---

The inexorable passage of time offered little comfort after your suspension. It still seemed like every minute lasted an hour, and every hour a week. Maddening.

How has it only been two days?

You sighed and took another sip of coffee, settling into your now familiar spot on your couch. Nothing good was ever on cable, but you had nothing better to do. Maybe if you watched enough crappy soap operas they might start appealing to you?

Kotomi only made it worse, with her endless emails about which patient needed what, how to get them to talk to her, blah blah blah. You only gave her the answers because to refuse only tarnished your already bruised reputation. You couldn’t afford to add any more black marks to your record. Perfection was the only route forward.

At first, she tried to be friendly. She mentioned the latest gossip and asked about what you were up to with all the free time. How did she expect you to just ignore what happened? You weren’t going to pretend she hadn’t betrayed you or left you to take the fall for her failure. And she never apologized. Infuriating.

So much for friendship. Oh well, what use was it anyway? It wasn’t like she’d ever added anything meaningful to your life. Idle chatter, a distraction and the appearance of normalcy. Things only necessary when in a group setting. The outcast always got singled out, you knew from experience.

But here you were, cast out yet again.

And why does it hurt so much?

You pushed the thought away and changed the channel, might as well see what was happening in the real world. Normally the news bored you to tears, but who knew? Maybe today it would provide some entertainment.

“Local police still have no suspects for the recent killings downtown. So far, four bodies have been found, two of which missing the heart. It is recommended that you stay in your home after dark until the police have made an arrest, though no official lockdown has been initiated at this time. We’ll continue to bring updates as the story develops.”

So, V was still in the area. The heart thing was new, his last killing involved a liver and intestines, a kidney if you remembered right. Why the change? What did it mean?

If only I had my notes from our sessions! I know I could figure this out!

A far-too-cheerful ding broke your morose thoughts as a new email came in. No doubt more questions from Kotomi. You sighed and stood from your perch, stretching your arms as you padded to your laptop.

Sure enough...

Hello, Dr. Waras.

I have a question regarding Jacob Miller’s treatment. Have you had any success with hypnotherapy or suggestion? I thought it may help but if it’s already been tried, there’s not much point. Thanks in advance!

Dr. Kotomi Ishida

Oh, for the love of god... didn’t she read the man’s chart? Your notes were meticulous, every treatment method you tried was thoroughly documented. What a waste of your time.

Still.

You typed a succinct reply stating that yes, you tried that and no, it was not successful in the least. If anything, it made his symptoms worse. A quick proofread later and off it went, its destination the one place you wanted to be but weren’t allowed.

Well, surely there were other places you wouldn’t be allowed. Monuments. A private home. Crime scenes.

Another ding, what now? Couldn’t she manage for ten minutes on her own, honestly...

But the sender was unknown, the subject line blank. Spam, probably. The filter wasn’t perfect. Bracing for an ad for men’s growth pills, you clicked on the message.

Unknown has invited you to chat! Accept/Decline

You pursed your lips and glared at the screen. This had to be a joke, and you had absolutely no patience for it. You had enough to deal with without this nonsense.

Do I? What else have I got to pass the damned time?

With a resigned sigh, you clicked accept and waited.

You rolled your eyes. Whoever it was, they were a cocky one. A shiver of foreboding trailed down your spine as you stared at the screen. You needed to be careful; without knowing who was on the other side, how would you know what information you could trust them with?

Something about the conversation felt familiar, but you couldn’t place why. You couldn’t deny the thrill at a new puzzle, a new problem to solve, but to be careless spelled disaster. It might be someone from work, trying to see if you’d reveal private info to a friendly stranger. Hell, it could be Malphas.

It didn’t seem like the Malphas you knew, but it seemed you didn’t know him as well as you thought.

Your mind sizzled, whirring faster than it had in days as all the pieces slid into place. Of course. How hadn’t you seen it sooner? Only one person you knew of had the taste for this kind of mind game. With trembling hands you responded, lips pursed and shoulders tense.

Shit. Shit, shit, motherfucking shit. Of all the idiotic, foolish, irrational things he could’ve done, he chose this? To contact you?

Why?

He’s too smart not to know how risky it is to talk to me. What in the world would make that risk seem worth it to him?

Possibilities flooded your mind, all the standard things that motivate people. Stupid, he wasn’t like most people, you couldn’t pretend his motivations were the same as anyone else’s.

Okay, calm down. Think. Work the problem.

In your sessions, he came to life whenever you discussed art and philosophy. He traded knowledge of his personal life to gain access to the simplest of art supplies. He was curious, intelligent and wily. Not prone to impulsive decisions or taking unnecessary risks. A planner. Not to mention he had a healthy libido, if inappropriate.

And an impressive...

Stop that.

You rolled your shoulders and hummed, still unsure about his reasoning. Perhaps you could just ask? Perhaps his freedom would make him more open to an honest conversation.

You almost laughed. Of course being direct got you nowhere. Always with the mind games... fine, if he wanted to play, he would lose.

You paused, unsure about his meaning. It felt like you were having two different conversations, about completely unrelated topics. What cage? You weren’t living in a cage. He had to mean something else, something subtle and hidden.

The back of your chair creaked as you leaned back, letting out a deep breath as the thrill of using your mind wore off. How you missed it, solving problems and finding solutions others didn’t dare to imagine. How could Malphas do this to you? He knew your background.

And he did it anyway. Maybe he doesn’t care.

A growl of frustration rumbled through your chest and you slammed the laptop closed. Enough wallowing, this was getting you nowhere. If talking to V was the best thing to happen to you since getting suspended, something was clearly wrong. Time to take action.

---V---

Full lips twisted into a smirk as he signed off. What a delight, how fortunate he’d come across this place. Such an interesting home, full of surprises. The cat, for example. Currently it sat on his lap, purring madly as he stroked its fur. He didn’t know its name, but it probably didn’t either.

Now, on to the next task.

“I still say blonde, Van Gogh,” Griffon cawed. He was perched atop the television, his usual spot since taking up residence here.

“And I say brown, it’s the most common and least likely to be noticed,” Vergil chimed in from the massive leather couch.

A muscle in V’s jaw twitched in annoyance. He needed to go out, there was no food left and the locals needed a reminder of his truth. But first, he needed to do something to disguise himself. For a day and a half, he and his friends argued over the best choice, and he was growing impatient.

Shadow flicked her tail at the white walls, her way of casting her vote. She lounged on a plush rug, bathing in the what little sunlight leaked through the venetian blinds.

At least Urizen wasn’t adding to the chaos. He’d never get a word in edgewise.

“Blonde!”

“Brown!”

Flick, growl.

Over and over again. Perhaps he ought to just shave his head and be done with it?

“Blonde! Everybody loves a blonde!”

“Brown, it’s inconspicuous and that’s the main objective!”

Flick, growl, flick.

“Enough!” V shouted, silencing all three at once. “I’ve had it! All you do is argue, and you’ve all missed the obvious!”

Three sets of quizzical eyes stared at him, waiting for an explanation. Instead of speaking, V headed to the bathroom, his friends in tow. He wasn’t sure how they all managed to fit in the tiny room, but somehow it worked out.

Elegant fingers rifled through several drawers before finding what he searched for. He knew there had to be some, the woman had ridiculous hair. No way she didn’t have some way of managing it.

“Wait, are you really gonna cut it?” Griffon prodded.

He didn’t want to. Having his hair like this was Nero’s idea, and he had far too little left of his friend. It took a year to grow it out and another year for him to get used to having a curtain of black blocking half his vision, but he honestly liked it now.

But every picture on the news of him featured him with long hair, draped over his face. This was the simplest way to change his appearance, there could be no argument. And hair grows back, eventually.

He raised the scissors high and prepared to make the first snip.

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

#fanfic #my writing #Be My Nightmare #dmc v #vitale #v x reader #reader insert #devil may cry #tw: gore

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signs-of-the-moon · 4 years

Text

Moon Rise: Chapter 31

The next day brought with it murkiness and rain. Plans had been posponed until the downpour slowed. Meanwhile it gave Whitestar time to strategize in her den with the clan's senior warriors. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath Tall Stone!" That was Chicorynose caterwauling outside. Her voice sounded distant behind the drumming of rain against the rocky den roof. The call she meowed was an unusual one, but none unlike Swiftcloud had heard before. She's probably trying to organize patrols, she figured, rising from her nest. Swiftcloud looked back at her wide eyed denmates, none of whom seemed willing to get up.

"Grassclan warriors! Apprentices! Come out here!" Chicorynose demanded impatiently.

"But it's raining!" Gingerstrike complained, tucking himself deeper into his bracken and wool lined nest. It was unlike him to go against orders. Though, Swiftcloud thought that perhaps the mixture of the rain and the grief of losing Ambereye had made his attitude more sour. It was a shame to see the noble warrior so broken down.

"If she's so eager to speak to us she'll just have to haul her soaking wet hide in here," Bumblethroat chimed. The pale brown tabby tom was hardly different from his brother, the late warrior Butterflytail. Like him, Bumblethroat was a bit spoiled and adamant in his choices, but Swiftcloud always thought him to be more sensible. Though she supposed even the most rational of Grassclan cats would be hesitant to go on patrol during a rainfall.

"She better not get any water on us," Ladybugbite grumbled, grooming her calico spotted tail. "I don't know about all of you, but I'd like to keep the rain outside and away from my pelt, where it belongs."

Other cats mumbled in amused agreement. Swiftcloud scoffed. Though she had to admit she wasn't fond of the rain either, at least she wasn't as adamant about going out in it as the rest of her denmates were. Brave warriors indeed. Can't even handle a little rain. Swiftcloud lifted her chin, padding to the den's entrance. She gave one last glance over her shoulder towards the stubborn warriors before heading out.

"Tulippaw!" She called as she trotted past the apprentice's den. At once the brown and white she-cat emerged, bounding to her mentor's side. A squeal of surprise escaped her as the rain assaulted her thin pelt, probably sending a shock of cold through her. The apprentice gave a leap, pressing her soaked pelt against Swiftcloud's for warmth.

"I'm glad to see at least some cats are willing to come when their deputy calls!" Chicorynose remarked loud enough for all den bound cats to hear. "Since you two are brave enough to come out first, you'll be on hunting patrol with me." Relief claimed Swiftcloud at the news, and Tulippaw gave a little bounce.

"Will you teach me how to catch birds, Swiftcloud?" Tulipaw requested. "Nobody catches them the way you can."

"Oh wow, I'd be glad to teach you!" Swiftcloud was surprised by the apprentice's enthusiasm, especially in this kind of weather. Tulippaw had always been an excitable student, Swiftcloud had known, but she never saw this strong of an interest when Ambereye was teaching her. Chicorynose tipped her head, prompting the two she-cats to have a seat. In a heartbeat she turned, slipping into the warrior's den. Her voice carried even halfway across camp, though her words were lost in the patter of raindrops. Swiftcloud felt cold seeping into her fur with every moment and hoped Chicorynose would hurry along. My nubby tail might freeze off by the time we leave camp, she worried. A chorus of groans followed Chicorynose out of the warrior's den, followed by the displeased group of warriors who begrudgingly followed the deputy into the clearing.

"Come on, you know I wouldn't be making you patrol in the rain if I didn't have to. But we have to keep a watch on the Treeclan border. The fresh-kill pile is stocked enough that my patrol and I can fill the rest of the gaps in. You all only have to mark boundaries. So stop complaining." Bumblethroat grumbled something under his breath, making Ladybugbite snicker. Chicorynose turned on the tom and hissed at him before turning around. She stalked back to Swiftcloud and Tulippaw, waving her tail in a command for them to follow. The pair rose to their paws, padding behind the deputy and out of camp.

"Are we going back to the Forest Patch?" Tulippaw wondered aloud.

"Oh no, definitely not. Especially not after the stunt you pulled last time. No, we're going to Rabbit Gorge. I don't recall Ambereye telling me you ever successfully hunted a rabbit before. Today is a good day to practice."

Tulippaw groaned. "But Swiftcloud said she'd teach me how to hunt birds."

"There'll probably be some in the trees nearby the warren. You can catch birds there."

It had been a while since Swiftcloud had visited Rabbit Gorge. She'd originally favored the Forest Patch for it's abundance of cover. The gorge did not provide many places for a cat to hide, especially for her. Chicorynose and Tulippaw would have an easier time hunting there in the dull brown grasses where their pelts seamlessly blended. But Swiftcloud's mostly white fur would make her more easily spotted. Luckily, hunting rabbits was a team effort. In Rabbit Gorge, Swiftcloud was better at flushing out prey, leading it into the awaiting claws of her partner. It wasn't the way she wanted to teach Tulippaw to hunt, but she'd have to learn how to do it this way sometime.

The rain turned rich soil muddy, raindrops causing splatter and creating a fog of mud-spray. Hunting here today would be messy. But the rabbits would be more easily disoriented, disliking heavy rain almost as much as Grassclan warriors did. And their eyesight was poor already; the fog would further serve to provide the cats better cover.

"The three of us will work together today, " Chicorynose meowed. "In this weather, it would probably be for the best. Swiftcloud, I'll take Tulippaw over this way." The deputy pointed with her tail. "You track down a rabbit and chase it in our direction." Swiftcloud gave a nod of approval, turning tail and stalking off. She glided along a worn down path into the gorge, opening her mouth to taste the air. The warm smell of rabbit rushed over her scent glands, tempting the warrior closer. A bear-length in front of her, three rabbits sat huddled beneath a shelf of earth. The area they sat under looked to have been worn down by moons of erosion, most likely due to past flooding. But today it served as the perfect shelter from the rain. Along the same stretch of shelter, another fox-length down, Swiftcloud could see more rabbits huddled together. Why were so many outside in this weather? Was their warren flooded out? Worry began to prickle in the white and black patched molly's pelt. She suddenly felt unsafe here, alone in the gorge. But she wouldn't have to stay long, she reminded her. Through her anxiety Swiftcloud pressed forward, dropping into a crouch and stalking through the grass. She'd need to be as close as possible to chase the rabbits in the right direction. Quiet as a mouse, the patched warrior crept up on her unsuspecting prey. When she was in striking distance, she leaned back on her haunches. She gave a little wiggle, narrowing her eyes in foucus, before bolting out of cover. The rabbits shot out from their shelter like lightning, pelting away as fast as their swift legs could carry them. Swiftcloud was able to keep up easily, swiping at one and tripping it up enough to injure it. Two rabbits ran right into the patrol's trap, getting pounced on and killed off by Chicorynose and an eager Tulippaw. Swiftcloud made quick work of the third rabbit who let out a pained squeal as its life came to an end. Pride swelled in Swiftcloud chest as she picked up her catch, spying the rabbit Tulippaw had snagged. Swiftcloud dragged her prey over to the patrol, placing it before the paws of the deputy.

"Good catch!" She praised, smiling. "How about you two go and find yourself a bird? I'll see if I can nab another rabbit in the meantime." Tulippaw lit up at the suggestion. Swiftcloud twitched her whiskers approvingly. She flicked an ear, prompting her apprentice to follow her elsewhere. Swiftcloud's blue eyes scanned the few spare trees along the edges of the gorge, ears trained to the sound of chirping. There was prey nearby, though it was a couple bear-lengths off. Swiftcloud decided to make this a teachable moment, using this time to explain how she developed her bird hunting technique.

"Back when I was a kittypet," she began, "my Twoleg would swing around a vine with feathers on the end and make me jump to catch it. It was a lot of fun, and I used those skills to develop a technique for catching birds taking flight."

"Really..? Wait, you were a kittypet?" Tulippaw sounded shocked.

Swiftcloud nodded. "I was. I joined the clan when you were very young. I'm suprised no one told you. Or that you didn't overhear about it from someone."

"I think I did. But I guess I never really believed it. You don't act the way kittypets are described at all."

"That's because I never really belonged as a Twoleg's toy," Swiftcloud confessed. "I always knew there was something more out there for me. Joining Grassclan had been like coming home for first time. And ever since, I've done my very best to live the ways of a clanborn cat and to follow the Warrior Code."

"I think I wanna be just like you when I'm a warrior," Tulippaw decided. Swiftcloud felt honored. She'd never realized a cat would even want to look up to her. Then again, she'd never believed she would have an apprentice either.

"As long as you listen to your lessons and learn well, I think you'll turn out exactly as you want. Now, let me show you how to catch a flying bird." Tulippaw smiled brightly at her mentor, dropping into a crouch beside her. "At first you want to keep low to the ground. Step lightly, but swiftly, and keep from sight. A bird will see you before it will smell you, but on the ground it'll feel you first. Use a mouse hunting crouch to start, then when you're close enough change your position to have your haunches raised." Swiftcloud demonstrated, Tulippaw following her every pawstep. Swiftcloud's voice dropped to a soft whisper as she continued. "That way you're ready to leap when the bird takes off. Then, spring out using the power of your back legs, leap up, and swipe at the bird's wings." Tulippaw gave a nod, continuing on her way as a wood pigeon dropped down from the trees, directly in her path. The apprentice gave a glance back at her mentor before putting her focus forward. Haunches raised, Tulippaw hesitated a moment before leaping. The bird gave a startled coo, flapping it's wings and taking off. But before it could get far Tulippaw leaped up, slapping the creature back to the ground. She pressed a paw to it, lunging forward to snap it's neck. The wood pigeon lay limp beneath her grip, and Swiftcloud purred approvingly.

"That was awesome Tulippaw, great job! Let's go show Chicorynose now and head home."

~~~

"Cats of Grassclan." Swiftcloud could hear Whitestar's meow as she crawled through the bramble tunnel, emerging into the clearing. A meeting had been called; luckily the patrol had made it home just in time to listen in. Swiftcloud hurried along with her rabbit still dangling in her maw, depositing the prey on the fresh-kill pile. Chicorynose and Tulippaw were right beside her, putting down their catches to sit and listen to what Whitestar had to say. "Tomorrow, we will set forth on our mission to push back the Treeclan border. After careful discussion with our senior warriors, a sneak attack seems the best approach. Only Fighters and Spies will be required for this task. Treeclan think they can waltz onto our land and claim it for themselves. And that is exactly what we are going to do to them. Spies will watch out for Treeclan patrols, while Fighters will advance ahead deeper into the Forest Patch. We will go as far as we possibly can, but not further than the Thunder Path. I don't expect us to make it that far tomorrow, but if we keep it up and if we win, we should be able to claim our new borders within a moon. It will be dangerous. Fighting is guaranteed to ensue. But Starclan willing, this war will be over soon." At once, Grassclan erupted into cheers, yowling their approvals of the new plan ahead. Swiftcloud, however, remained silent. She knew that pushing the border had been her idea, but she couldn't help feeling anxious for it. It's for the good of the clan, she told herself. But so many will get hurt in the process. But...it has to be done. Come what may, this was the only solution to their troubles. Treeclan would never give up more land willingly. Grassclan would have to take it by force. For the good of both the clans.

#warrior cats #wcs #warrior cats ocs #Signs of the Moon: Moon Rise #Moon Rise #chapter 31

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morbid-n-macabre · 5 years

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This case is very reminiscent of a 70's horror movie. It's interesting, to say the least!

Toledo, Ohio-

Father Gerald Robinson was a Catholic priest who tended to the sick and dying at Mercy Hospital, meeting their spiritual needs in times when a priest is needed most. Or, that's what he was supposed to be doing; today many believe that Father Robinson may have been hiding a dark side.

So, we will begin our story on Saturday, April 5th of 1980; it was Holy Saturday, the day before Easter. It's fair to say that this holiday is a big deal for most Christians, and that's especially true for Catholics. When an unsuspecting Sister Phyllis Ann came to help decorate the hospital chapel for the upcoming festivities, she received the shock of her life: the much respected 71 year old Sister Margaret Ann Pahl's corpse was discovered laying in a pool of blood.

So, Sister Margaret had devoted her entire life to her faith and helping others. She had taken her vows as a teenager, and later became a registered nurse who did her best to serve those around her. It's said that, while caring, the sister could be difficult to please; she was a perfectionist who expected everyone to give their 100% all the time, just as she always had.

Sister Margaret had been tortured, stabbed dozens of times, and strangled. This killer had placed an altar cloth over the nun and stabbed her 9 times in the chest; together these particular wounds made the shape of an upside down (inverted) cross. Then the attacker had stabbed her over and over again in the face and neck; all together the sister sufferered 31 stab wounds, to be precise. It appeared that at some point Sister Margaret had been given her last rites, except her head had been anointed with her own blood instead of oil! Still, the worst part may have been the sexual assault, it is rumored that she'd been violated with a crucifix. Think of how awful this must've been for Sister Margaret, who had joined the convent at the tender age of 19; it's safe to assume that she had been a virgin. At some point Sister Margaret was taken to a special room called the sacristy; this is the place in which the Holy Eucharist is kept in the days prior to Easter Sunday. Considering Catholics believe that the Eucharist is the embodiment of Christ, it's likely this killer believed he was killing the good sister in the physical presence of her savior. Another thing which should be noted: this particular room would've been kept shut, likely even locked in the days before the holiday; this killer knew what he was doing. In this sacred room the killer posed Sister Margaret with her arms and legs straight; the poor nun's underwear had been pulled all the way down, and her dress pulled way up. It was as if the murderer had tried his best not only to kill this woman, but to utterly destroy her; it's possible he believed he was sending her soul to the lake of fire. But who in the hell would do this to a helpless elderly nun, in a hospital chapel, on the day before Easter?

Back to Father Gerald Robinson again. It quickly came to light that the Father and Sister hadn't exactly gotten along, which had been no secret around the hospital. Matter of fact, a day or so before the murder these two had had a tiff in front of many witnesses. Father Robinson had significantly shortened a Mass, which had thoroughly ticked the "old school" nun off so badly that she challenged his authority, right there in front of God and everybody! Father Robinson, who quickly became investigators best suspect, was brought in and questioned. A sharp letter opener shaped as a sword was found among the priest's belongings, and it appeared to have blood up underneath it. Police took this into evidence, but nothing ever came of any of this at the time; the priest was simply reassigned elsewhere, the case went cold, and life went on.

The horrific murder of Sister Margaret may still be considered unsolved today if not for a seemingly rather outlandish story. In 2003 an unnamed woman filed a lawsuit claiming that she'd recently recalled some trauma from her childhood. She remembered having been placed in a coffin filled with cockroaches, penetrated with a snake, forced to consume a human eyeball, and that she witnessed not only the torture of animals but also the murder of a toddler. Really gruesome stuff. The 41 year old claimed that she'd experienced all of this and more in various basements at the hands of Catholic priests; but not just any old priest stuck out in her mind, Father Robinson had been one of her abusers! The accuser now thought it only fair that the church pay for her therapy bill, a total of $50,000. A few other women came forward, and they claimed to have also experienced similar abuse; the matter was investigated but, considering how much time had passed, nothing ever came of this. Well, nothing except it brought the cold case of Sister Margaret front and center once again to a new batch of investigators.

Come to find out, the original investigation had been suspect from the beginning. The initial interrogation of Father Robinson had been cut short by Deputy Police Chief Ray Vetter, a devout Catholic. Reports which had been ordered turned in to Vetter had been "lost"; other investigators who had worked the case remember being outraged by the facade, and many were still fuming over it all of these years later! Finally given the chance to properly investigate this murder, police spoke to multiple witnesses who could place the priest at the scene of the crime, and Sister Margaret's corpse was exhumed. It was determined with a decent amount of certainty that the letter opener found among the priest's possessions had been the murder weapon, and police were finally able to arrest him.

During trial the prosecution claimed it would've been unlikely that anyone besides a priest, nun, or a seminarian would have possessed the knowledge to pull commit this crime. Also the woman with the repressed memories was brought up, it appears that she may have even testified against the priest. Buzz words/phrases such as "human sacrifice", "satanic cult", and "Satanic Ritual Abuse" were used; it was as if the 80's called and wanted their Satanic Panic back - it was very reminiscent of what happened with the McMartin Preschool. Anyways, on May 11th of 2006 a jury found Father Robinson guilty of murder; the priest was sent off to prison for a 15 years to life sentence.

Seems pretty open and shut, right? Well, not quite; many were not satisfied with the verdict. While much of the evidence, be it circumstantial, does point directly at Father Robinson, it appears that the prosecution withheld some important things from the jury. This included unknown male DNA found beneath the Nun's fingernails, and a report written by a FBI trained profiler named Dr. Harley Stock. According to this report, an experienced killer such as Coral Eugene Watts was likely to be the culprit, probably not a priest with an axe to grind. DNA tests were run on multiple suspects, including another priest and the aforementioned serial killer, but none were a match. When you add the missing, lost, and/or destroyed evidence, many believe that the priest caught an unfair shake; plus a lot of people don't believe that repressed memories should've been heard. The prosecutor has been accused of misconduct, and there was even some talk of granting the priest a new trial.

Father Robinson didn't last too long behind bars, he passed away on the 4th of July in 2014; a heart attack took him out at the age of 76. He received a priest's funeral service in which more than 200 people, including dozens of nuns, were in attendance. While some are still trying to clear the priest's tarnished reputation to this very day, others are adamant that he was guilty of killing Sister Margaret. It's all up for debate.

Do you think that repressed memories should be permitted at trial? Do you think the priest was guilty, innocent, or maybe he had a partner in crime?

To my Satanic Followers,

Before I am bombarded with comments and messages from you fine folks, please understand that I have researched your beliefs as I find all religions fascinating. I am very much aware that the Satanism does not call for human (be it adult or child) sacrifice, nor does it condone mistreatment of a child. I get it, I'm just telling you about this particular case. I'm very much Christian, but I do not judge anyone on their beliefs.

#Catholic #religion #church #true crime #cold case #police corruption #murder #occult #crime story #blogger

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

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Black Water | Nasir “Naz” Khan x Reader (Oneshot)

Trope Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2151

Fandom: The Night Of (HBO)

Warning: Minor swearing, mentions of drug abuse, murder, and attempted assault. Some spoilers of the end of the show.

Summary: Naz tries to seek help after his ordeal and meets someone that saw him more than a suspected murderer and would help prevent him from losing himself. Title inspired by Black Water by Of Monsters and Men

How can anyone ever recover from that ordeal? Just one night of defiance, of wanting to fit in, turned Nasir Khan’s life around for the worst. His curiosity, his indulgence, would have had a different result if he had been another ethnicity, if he hadn’t gone back to the house, if he had done this and that. It’s over. It’s done. And he can’t undo that night.

Here he was, trying to get into the good graces of his mother and his therapist and maybe even himself, sitting in a large room in a circle with other people. He couldn’t help but think back at his mother’s expression during the trial, during those visits, and the night he came back home.

He was grateful that his father, though disappointed in him, believed that he was no murderer. Was he completely innocent? No. But for what he was charged for, yes. But that look in his mother’s eyes made him feel that he might as well have killed that girl, that there was a part of her that believed that he could have. And no matter how much Naz tried to drown out the noise, the stares, the guilt, it continued to haunt him even as he closed his eyes.

The pillows were too soft, the mattress, too. The need for that high itch at him daily, but he was trying to ignore it. If not for himself, for his mother. That still doesn’t stop him for taking sleeping pills, maybe one or two more than necessary just to sleep.

After he was released from Rikers, his lawyer told him to ignore the stares. They’ll eventually move on to the next scandalous thing. But he also added that he should see a counselor or therapist. At the time, Naz didn’t take it too seriously until the shakes were too obvious and after one large outburst at his unsuspecting younger brother, he decided that he should at least try therapy.

The group therapist was late, but it gave Naz time to take in the other patients. It felt more like the Breakfast Club for drug addicts. An athletic boy with his football hoodie on and baggy jeans that had his legs spread and his arms crossed as he was leaning back, almost sliding to the floor, a former preppy girl in all pink with long sleeves that was continuously brushing her hair, a stand-offish man with a gray hoodie and black skinny jeans and black glasses that seemed to curl into himself, and you with a striped sweater and skinny jeans looking at the group with a grimace. Naz guessed that he was the criminal in the group.

The athlete took out his phone and started scrolling through social media, snorting at a post. The pink girl paused her brushing to look around, as if the noise snapped her out of her trance. Her eyes landed on Naz and widened, recognizing his face from the news.

“What?” Naz said indignantly, sticking his chin up at her.

She quickly looked away and continued to brush her hair. Naz looked at the group again, seeing them casting side glances at him. You, however, were the only that looked at him head on. Once your eyes met, instead of fear or amazement or sympathy, your eyes were sincere and kind. You gave him a soft smile that made his throat tighten. He was the first to look away as he harshly cleared his throat and sniffed.

You sighed, looking down at your watch and shook your head. You stood up, making your way towards the door. The therapist, Christofer with an ‘F’, was always late to the group sessions and you were close to being late for work. They had unfortunately rescheduled you to one of the most inconvenient shifts that you had outright told them that you were unable to work, but it was either you work it or get fired. Your boss was an asshole like that.

“Where do you think you’re going, stripes?” The athlete said with a smirk, knowing how much you hated that nickname.

“Unlike all of you, I have a job,” you replied, “and I’m not going to be sitting around in a circle while Chris finishes with the receptionist. It’s not like anyone’s stopping me from leaving in the first place.”

“Then you’ll have to keep coming to these sessions longer,” the gray hoodie man spoke up, looking up with unfocused eyes.

“Greg, you’ve never missed a session and you’ve been coming here a lot longer than I have. Recovery is relative.”

“It’s Gavin,” he muttered, lowering his head.

“No, it’s not. Tell Chris that I’ll have to figure out how to attend the next session,” you said over your shoulder before leaving.

Naz bounced his knees, staring at the door as it slowly closes before shooting up and leaving as well.

“Hey, man, it’s your first day. You can’t just leave like that!” Greg called after him.

“Watch me,” Naz said.

Once he was out of the room, he whipped his head around, trying to find the direction you took. He saw a flash of your sweater turning the corner down the hall on the left, so he followed. He jogged down just in time to see you walk out the building towards the street.

“Wait!” he called out.

You walked for a while until you heard his voice again and you realized he was talking to you. You turned around and saw him jog over.

“Ditching, too?” you teased.

He nodded. “Where are you going?”

“Work, down at the Thai cuisine restaurant. Have you been there yet?”

“No… can I walk you there?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.

You nodded. You turned and waited until he fell into step with you. “So… first day and you’re already ditching, huh?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I went because of… reasons, but I don’t know if I can stay in that room any longer.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. “You not gonna ask about the… you know…”

You remained silent, stopping at the crosswalk. “Do you want me to?”

“Not really.”

“Then I won’t. It’s not my place, anyways,” you said with a shrug, moving along with the crowd as the sign changed. “I’m (Y/n), by the way. Why’d you run after me?”

“Naz. I don’t know. You seem more approachable than the others,” Naz said, “I guess I figured you weren’t gonna be all weirded out talking to someone like me.”

That made you chuckle. “Trust me, Naz, the others were weirded out when I first joined the group. Now, it either doesn’t matter to them anymore or it’s a joke.”

The two of you reached the restaurant and Naz followed you in without a word. The smell of spices surrounded him as he walked in and the heat inside made it too uncomfortable to wear a jacket. You told him to pick a seat as you disappeared into the kitchen, already taking your apron out of your backpack as you walked through the door.

Naz took off his jacket and took a small table near the back of the room next to the wall, another waitress setting utensils and a glass of water in front of him. You emerged from the back with your uniform and apron on, a pen and notepad in your hands. You switched with the other waitress and took over the other tables and taking their order, moving back and forth from the tables to the kitchen, before reaching Naz.

“I don’t… I won’t… I haven’t brought that much money with me,” he said, holding his hands out.

“It’s fine, I got it covered. Something simple to start with?”

He flipped through the menu and ordered. You took it and sent it to the kitchen before carrying out your duties. It wasn’t a crowded restaurant, but it was enough to keep busy. Naz was allowed to wait around even after he was done as long as he kept ordering drinks and snacks. He kept glancing at the time, ignoring the texts that his dad were sending him. You would check on him every now and again and he would try to distract you from your work.

When you were finally finished with your shift, you had changed out of your uniform and plopped down on the seat across from him. With his presence, you didn’t feel as tired as you usually would after a busy shift. Naz finished up his drink and stood up, telling you to follow him outside.

He led you away from the noises of the streets towards a bridge. He walked towards the edge of the water and leaned against the railing.

“I don’t know what happened that night,” Naz whispered, staring out at the water, “I just wanted to go to this party that the guys from basketball were holding. My friends was supposed to pick me up, but he backed out at the last minute. I really wanted to go, so I stole my dad’s cab. That’s when it all started going wrong, really. She was a passenger with her own story and maybe it would have been a more interesting love story if things hadn’t… ended the way it did. I never had a reason to kill her. She became a forbidden fruit in the papers, and if any other man had tried, they would have gotten away with it. Because I’m… me, I paid for it. She wasn’t supposed to be a fruit or a poor victim or anything. She was a girl with a rough past that was seeking a companion, someone to have a good time with.”

He didn’t know why he was telling you all of this. Maybe so he could get it all out, hoping to make sense of it all, to assure himself of how things had happened the night of Andrea’s death. There was no conclusion, no clarity or justice being served. He was proven neither innocent nor guilty, leaving everyone speculating whether he had really done it or not. That weight will be hanging above his head for a long time.

You stood next to Naz and crossed your arms on the railing. “Remember I told you the others were weirded out when I joined those sessions?” Naz nodded. “I had been in jail and was released a few months prior to my first session.”

His eyes widened. “For what?”

“Murder,” you stated, looking at him.

He opened his mouth a couple of times, then said, “Did you do it?”

“I did.”

The two of you remained silent for a moment, letting the distant sounds of the city and the water flow through the cracks of the bubble that you and Naz shared.

“You know why I go to those sessions?” you asked softly, “My dad and my brother were addicts and dealers. I ended up shooting up every now and then, especially when things get stressful. My mom was long gone by the time things escalated. They fell into debt and messed with the wrong people and offered me as payment.”

“Well, fuck.”

“Those people didn’t touch me. Not after I killed one of them,” you said, looking down at your hands as if you could still see the blood staining them, a hint of iron reaching your nose. Whether it was from the memory or the railings or both, you didn’t know. “They backed off after that. By the time I came to from the shock, the police were already busting in to arrest us. I was finally proven innocent on the grounds of self-defense, but by that time, it had been several months, maybe a few years, that I had been locked up. I didn’t keep track anymore.”

“Well, then…” Naz pulled out a beer bottle from his jacket.

“Where did you get that?”

“The fridge was open to customers, I just didn’t pay,” he said cheekily, shaking the bottle at you.

You shook your head, taking your keys out for the bottle opener and popped the cap off before taking the first swig. “I hope you do continue those sessions, though. It’ll take time for people to move on, but you should try, too,” you said.

“If you promise for more dates like this,” he said with a smirk.

“This is a date, is it?” He shrugged. “Maybe less alcohol, no drugs, no stealing cabs, and let’s see where this goes.”

“Okay.”

You raised the bottle to him. “Misery loves company.”

He took it back and tilted his head back to drink. “And such lovely company filled with misery.”

You smiled, scooting closer to Naz and rested your head on his shoulders while the both of you looked out at the quiet black water spattered with red and blue as a police car drove passed, carrying Andrea’s abusive ex-boyfriend in the back.

#The night of #Naz khan x reader #Nasir Naz Khan x Reader #Naz khan #Riz Ahmed #writersmonth2019 #oneshot #That ending of The Night Of was so bittersweet #riz ahmed imagine

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moonysfrexckles · 5 years

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“I lost a sister.”

September 1977

She was staring again.

She knew because the rest of the world appeared rather abruptly around his head, and the din of the Great Hall assaulted her ears the moment she blinked. Lily cleared her throat, shaking her head to try and dispel whatever had been running through her mind and straightened up in her seat.

Honestly, she couldn’t quite pinpoint why she was staring at James Potter. Sure, he was pretty, with his dark hair, strong jaw, and hazel eyes that sparked every time the grin was lit at his lips. But he was also a bully. An arrogant, self-righteous bully-

“I can be better for you.”

Only Lily wasn’t sure that was true anymore.

After the incident at the end of their fifth year, when he’d chased her through the school and promised with sincerity ringed eyes to be better, he hadn’t accosted Snape once. Nor any other poor unsuspecting child as it was. For a year, Lily had been privy to a boy she had only seen snatches and glimmers of, and it surprised her.

Lily Evans had known James Potter for nearly seven years now. She had known he was in love with her for almost four. It wasn’t very difficult to figure out- for all his strengths, he was terribly obvious, and she’d had to get used to the lingering stares, the bashful smiles, the sudden comments and vies for her attention. At first, Lily had actually found it quite flattering. She’d blushed and laughed and gossiped, and then she stumbled upon him tormenting Snape, the latter stripped to his underwear in front of corridors full of people, and her stomach had felt heavy and light at the same time and she’d wondered how she could hope to fall in love with anyone so vile.

Regardless of any shows of civility they had attempted over the years, their relationship had always been a rocky one. She clashed with his arrogance, his foolhardiness, his ignorance, his easy-going earnestness that always seemed to get him off the hook, even with McGonagall. He clashed with her righteousness, her morals, her religion, her inexcusable belief that everybody deserved a chance, despite how they treated others. He found her increasingly irritating and loved her for it. She found him ever the bully and hated him for the fact that he didn’t seem to care.

Except that wasn’t true.

Her recent piqued interest in him wasn’t anything more than that. Lily was simply surprised that James Potter was human, after all. But she had to stop staring-

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” Dorcas was saying when Lily next blinked. She was spreading strawberry jam on her toast, surveying a flippant Marlene with arched eyebrows.

“What’s not fair?”

Marlene looked at her in surprise. “Well, it’s nice of you to join us! How was your trip? Did you get all the pining done you wanted?”

“I-” spluttered Lily. She closed her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “I was not pining.”

“You were. And drooling,” said Dorcas, taking a bite of her toast when the scowl was redirected to her.

Lily frowned. Absently, her eyes drifted back down the table.

“And we’ve lost her again-”

“What’s not fair?” Lily repeated, switching her attention to the two of them. They shared an amused glance but didn’t comment, allowing her abrupt change of topic.

“Nothing important,” shrugged Marlene.

“It sounded important.”

“It wasn’t,” Dorcas smiled.

Lily picked up her spoon and waggled it between them. She said warningly, “I know you’re both lying to me.”

“That makes three of us,” said Marlene sweetly.

“You’re infuriating,” Lily told her. She wasn’t particularly hungry and her cereal had gone soggy, so she pushed back the bench and climbed out. “I need to go to the Owlery anyway. I’ll see you in Potions.”

“No, you won’t. I’m in Herbology,” said Dorcas.

Marlene pulled a face. “And I might not turn up just to prove a point.”

Lily was already half way down the table, but they managed to make a small smile curl her lips. She didn’t stop but twirled round to face them, holding her arms out and singing, “Wankers!”

Marlene’s laugh carried around the hall, following her until the doors had shut behind her.

She didn’t stop as she crossed the entrance hall, jogging up the stairs in the direction of the West Tower. Her bag felt heavy on her back, and regardless of all of her books and quills and spare quills and ink, Lily thought the letter placed carefully on top of everything else was the weightiest.

Her eyes stung. She’d woken up earlier than usual that morning, before the sun had even touched the skies. Lily had sat up, leaning against the headboard, heart fluttering dangerously in her chest, and waited for the light to break through the slit in the curtains before she’d folded back her sheets, made her bed and slipped into the Common Room. She had sat on the crimson settee, staring into the fire. And then when her feet grew cold, she collected some parchment from her trunk and her quill and returned to kneel on the floor by the ash fire.

The paper had remained blank for some while. Every time she reached for her quill, her fingers would shake so violently that she gave up and traced the grooves of the table instead.

Every year, on this day, Lily would wake up early, having not been able to sleep, and stare at the blank bit of paper, wondering what acceptable thing you could write to a stranger on their birthday. Although, Petunia wasn’t a stranger-

Her sister was the first thing she remembered. Memories that were saturated and hazy, bleached with light and faded by time. She was her first friend, her first playmate, the first person to make her laugh. Lily knew that Tuney liked running around because the flimsy pain in her side always made her feel victorious. She knew that her favourite colour was peach because it was the colour of the dahlia flowers that grew by the stream in summer back home in Nottingham, and she liked liquorice tea when she was ill.

She wasn’t a stranger.

Lily just didn’t know her anymore.

She sighed into the warm palm of her hand, eyeing the blank paper with a frown. Forcing her hand to grip her quill, she sighed again and proceeded to write.

The letter was now tucked into her bag, sealed with the red wax and stamped with the Hogwarts crest Marlene had bought her for Christmas in her Second Year. Lily walked quickly. The Owlery was located in the highest corner of Hogwarts, the West Tower, separated from the rest of the school by a heavy wooden door, and set at the top of fifty three stone steps (she and Mary had counted them on their first trip there). The pillars stretched to the sky, holding up the roof, with nests and perches lining the walls. There must have been a hundred, maybe two hundred, owls, swooping in and out as they pleased, preening and plucking themselves, watching her with disinterested eyes.

Her mother hadn’t let her buy an owl, despite Lily’s sincerest efforts to convince her that they were a necessity in the Wizarding World, because she’d said it would eat her budgie. In the summer, she’d had to rely on her friends’ owls to be able to reply to their letters. Now, she’d have to use a school one.

It was cold up here. October was right around the corner, in the crisp wintry air, in the late dying of the night, and Lily made quick work of undoing her bag, offering the letter to the friendliest looking owl she could find along with a treat as thanks. She watched it as it took off, spreading its large wings and taking to the skies. She didn’t look away until it had disappeared into the clouds, feeling as though it was taking a crucial part of her heart with it, and even then, when the tiny black speck of undulating wings had faded away, she waited a few moments more.

Then, she tore her eyes away. The owls squawked above her head, cooing and nipping each other when they encroached on their nests. Lily swallowed and found that although her throat felt dry and rough, she could breathe a lot easier, like the air had cleared. She fastened back up her bag, swinging it onto her shoulders and checked her watch-

She froze. She was going to be late.

Lily swore, bolting down the stone steps, and bursting through the wooden door at the bottom. She quickened her pace, and noticed faintly that her heart felt significantly lighter as she rushed down the corridors to her Potions lesson, falling through the door and onto her stool just as Slughorn emerged from his office.

Marlene glanced at her, smirking at the pinkness of her cheeks and raggedness of her breath. She murmured, “Did you send it?”

Lily froze. She played for nonchalance. “Send what?”

“Whatever it is you send every year,” she explained simply, ignoring Slughorn as their professor set them their coursework task and let them get on with it.

She didn’t elaborate past that, and Lily was secretly relieved that her friend was never nosy when it mattered. She set her station up, laying out her notes and checking them once over to make sure everything was correct.

“What assignment have you chosen?” asked Marlene, sitting back in her chair and watching her friend tie up her flaming hair and bustle around their desks. She’d already collected her ingredients, although she made no move to do anything of particular importance.

“I decided to merge the Draught of Living Dead with Altheda’s Potion,” replied Lily.

Marlene’s eyes narrowed and a small frown creased her forehead. “From Beedle the Bard? I didn’t realise that was a real potion. I always thought it was just a fairy-tale.”

Lily paused. A wry smile curled her lips and she said whimsically, “After finding out about magic, I learnt very quickly that fairy-tales are more often than not based on some semblance of truth.”

She smiled, squeezing Marlene’s fingers before she said, “I’m going to get my ingredients. Are you planning on starting any time soon?”

“Not particularly,” retorted Marlene, wrinkling her nose. “Though then again, I don’t tend to plan ahead. After six years, you should know that.”

Lily laughed, and she headed towards Slughorn’s cupboard. She made a mental checklist of everything she needed, beginning with the leftmost bottom shelf and working her way round like that, perusing each jar and vial with squinted eyes, chastising herself for not bringing her glasses and above all, cursing her Professor for the chaos of his disorganisation. She’d offered once before to put his cupboard in order for him, but Slughorn had laughed it off and said that he knew where everything was and that was all that mattered. Short-sighted and with the dim light of her wand, it took her longer than usually to find all of the ingredients bar one she needed, but she did so, pooling them into a bag she had transfigured from a pencil. She stood up from where she had been crouched on the floor, extinguishing her wand. Resolutely, Lily reached for the handle but before she could, the door swung open and a hard, tall body collided with hers, sending her grappling to press her bag firm against her leg lest she lose any of her ingredients.

“You haven’t seen any Chizpurfle fangs lying about, have you- oh, Lily. Evans, hi.”

James cut himself off, neck flushed, and Lily smiled a little at his flustered state. This particular cupboard, separated from the more general one due to the increasing rarity and expense of its assets, was perhaps a metre and a half squared in area, and Lily could feel every one of his breaths against her skin.

“Chizpurfle,” she repeated suddenly, eyes raking the shelves, chewing on her lip. “No, I can’t see it. Maybe Slughorn’s used the jar and didn’t put it back?”

He nodded, and she realised that in the few moments she’d been searching for the ingredient, his eyes hadn’t moved from her face. James coughed and said, “Thanks, yeah. I’ll check.”

Arms full of various sized vials with various coloured liquids, James turned and headed for the door. Lily swallowed and queried, “Are you making a Befuddlement Draught?”

He spun around, eyebrows raised. “A Wiggenweld Potion.”

Lily wasn’t quick enough to conceal her surprise and if the quirk of James’ lip was anything to go by, he noticed. She picked off the last sloth brain on the shelf and said lightly, “It’s a difficult potion, is all. Are you feeling up to the challenge, Potter?”

The hint of a smile that had threatened to spill across his face gave way to a grin. “You’ve known me for nearly seven years, Evans. You should already know the answer to that.” He paused, as if gauging how far he could push it, before James added, “Why? Are you impressed?”

“Maybe I just didn’t have that much faith in your ability,” retorted Lily, feigning her features to stop herself from smiling. She gave him a dainty shrug.

James’ mouth dropped open. Wounded, he cried, “How very dare you! The audacity! If my hands weren’t full, I’d challenge you to a duel.”

“You’d lose,” she warned him.

“Oh, Evans,” he said in a low voice and the smile dropped from her face. “I’m not the same foolish, skinny boy I used to be.”

“No,” she conceded softly, and James’ eyes changed too. She cleared her throat. “But you still have his legs.”

With James’ rich laugh echoing through the jars and making the spider webs shake in her wake, she edged past him and walked back to her table, beaming at Remus as she passed, who offered her a gentle smile in return. Lily laid out all of her ingredients, skim-reading her instructions to double check that she had them all before she began her prep work.

“So,” began Marlene, finally unloading her equipment from her bag. “You and Potter, huh?”

Lily’s head whipped around so that she could stare incredulously first at her friend, and then at the rest of the class, just to make sure nobody had heard. “No. Never. Not in a million years. Not if we were the last two people on the planet-”

“Okay, I get it!” exclaimed Marlene, holding her hands up in mock surrender. Lily relaxed a little. “You dig him.”

She jumped at the insinuation and nipped her arm. “Don’t freak out over dust, Marls,” she told her, lighting her cauldron. “We’re just friends.”

Marlene scoffed. “’Just friends.’ Chick, this is the same boy that’s been in love with you for seven years.”

“Four,” Lily corrected automatically. She blushed.

“Four that you know of- my point being why are you ruling something out that you’ve never even tried?”

Lily’s eyes drifted across the room almost instinctively, finding him out so easily you’d have thought she was drenched in coldness and he was the only morsel of warmth left in the world. She always found it bizarre how easy James was, easy to talk to, easy-going, easy to spot in a crowd full of people (although that last one was usually because he was the reason for the accumulation of an audience so she didn’t know if it counted).

“I’m not ruling anything out, Marls,” said Lily. “I just- it’s different now. Last year, he was different. And now we’re working together with all the Heads business that I can’t avoid him like I used to.” She swallowed, softening. “He treats me like a normal person. Not like a schoolboy crush, or an object, or an outsider. I respect that.”

Marlene didn’t reply, and when Lily glanced at her to check if her friend was still there, the other girl nodded slightly. She let out a whistle. “Must have been some apology.”

“I can be better for you.”

“I guess it was,” replied Lily vaguely, eyes straying to the boy on the other side of the classroom. He had his head ducked low over his work station, elbow tucked in as he added the ground up Chizpurfle fangs to his potion.

“What were you and Dorcas talking about this morning, anyway?” asked Lily curiously, pouring the infusion of wormwood into her cauldron and flicking her wand to increase the heat.

Marlene’s face tightened ever so slightly. To anyone else, the act would have been imperceptible, but Marlene was a character of grand gestures and melodrama, so every small motion seemed out of place on her, almost wasted. Maybe Lily had just known her for too long.

But she played it off, nonchalantly starting her potion. “Dorky has a date.”

The knife in Lily’s hand slipped and she looked at her. “A date?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” Lily pressed her lips together. “What did you say?”

“I said she shouldn’t be stringing him along if she didn’t like him,” said Marlene, flicking her blonde curls over her shoulder and fixing Lily with a look.

“What did she say?”

“She said it wasn’t fair to assume she didn’t like him.”

Lily turned back to her potion and said lightly, “Well, at least she took your advice. She’s not ruling anything out until she’s tried it.”

There was a clatter of silver as a knife was abruptly dropped on the table. Marlene regarded her shrewdly. “Get back to your bloody potion, Evans.”

The two girls stared at one another, and Lily felt the smile tug at her lips. She tried biting it back, but they both gave way to laughter at the same time, sharing a grin before they got back on with their assignments.

Lily had always liked Potions. She liked the precision, the right and wrong of it all. You couldn’t argue with a set of instructions and if you went wrong somewhere along the way, you only had yourself to blame. She preferred subjects like that, where success relied on you and nobody could argue against it.

Slughorn made his rounds half way into the lesson. He made a beeline for her, beaming fondly, and asked which potion she had picked and why.

“I’ll say it again, Miss Evans,” boomed Slughorn once she’d told him and shown him her instructions, jovial voice alight with merriment. He ducked his head low as though he were letting her in on a secret nobody else could hear. “It’s a pity you weren’t sorted into my house.”

Lily smiled despite herself. She shook her head, scooping the pieces of the Sopophorous beans into her hand and then squeezing them into her cauldron. The juice hissed and spat when it reacted with the wormwood. “Professor, you and I both know a lion’s roar cannot be confined to a dungeon.”

Slughorn chuckled. “Perhaps not, but your ambition would thrive spectacularly.”

“My ambition is not your common ambition, Professor,” she replied, pausing to count in her head the seven counter clockwise stirs she needed, adding one clockwise stir for good luck. They both followed the motion with their eyes and when the potion shimmered and had turned the right shade of pink, Lily dipped her vial into it and held it between them. It glinted in the light.

“My, I never,” he mumbled in marvel, and the light cast glistening reflections to dance across his walrus-like cheeks. “Miss Evans, you’re the first student I’ve ever taught to brew this draught so successfully in under an hour! And to complicate it too! It’s a masterpiece!”

Beaming, Slughorn moved to take her assignment off her but she moved before he could, holding it out of his reach and ignoring the blush that hurried to her face..

“My ambition is my biggest act of bravery, sir,” said Lily solemnly. “I’m clever enough to know it, and foolish enough, it seems, to continue even when this world tells me I shouldn’t.”

She flicked her wrist back and held the vial out for him to collect. Slughorn stared at her for a few moments before his lips split into a smile beneath his bulbous moustache and he burst into that booming laughter that echoed around the room, bouncing off the stone walls and eliciting more than a few surprised glances. Lily smiled at him, before she vanished her draught and cleared her work station.

“Clever indeed, Miss Evans,” agreed Slughorn, and she felt a rush of pride fill her gut.

Lily spent the rest of the lesson finishing her Transfiguration essay, which transpired as spending all her time trying to move it out of the way quick enough before Marlene spilled something on it, or her potion bubbled over because she’d done something terribly wrong. They were dismissed when the lesson ended by a harried looking Slughorn who had had to put out a total of three fires and send Frank Longbottom to the Hospital Wing for minor burns when he added moonseed (which is highly poisonous and volatile) instead of moonstone.

“You were finished before everyone else had even collected their ingredients!” laughed Marlene, linking their arms when they eventually left the classroom. “You’re a wonder, woman, you know that? The least you could do is cushion our egos by showing us you’re human and get an A like the rest of us.”

“I’ve never gotten less than an E on any of my Potions, like the rest of you,” teased Lily, biting back a smile.

“Honestly,” said Marlene, throwing her hands up with all the melodrama she could summon. “I don’t know how you do it. It’s like Slughorn is in love with you.”

Lily pulled a face, prodding her friend in the ribs. “Marls, you’re disgusting.”

Marlene just grinned, unlooping their arms so she could throw hers around Lily’s shoulders to pull her close. She planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“You know, I was just saying the exact same thing.”

The two girls paused. They spun around and their smiles dropped at the sight of Evan Rosier sauntering towards them. He was a sly boy, tall and slim, with immaculate dark hair that was always combed a certain way, and lips so shrewd it looked as though he was perpetually dissatisfied with general conversation, or perhaps it was life in general that tasted so sour to him. The green tie gleamed from his chest.

Lily’s eyes drifted just past him and her heart tightened in her chest. Snape skulked far enough away to be inconspicuous but close enough to remain affiliated. He loitered in the shadows. She quickly looked back at Rosier.

“Not the bit about McKinnon, though I do admit my stomach heaves at the sight of her,” Rosier continued. A muscle twitched in Marlene’s jaw. Her eyes rolled back into her head. If Lily hadn’t felt her entire body tense up then she would’ve laughed. His dark eyes flicked to her. “I meant the bit about Slughorn. You’re always been a bit of a teacher’s pet, Evans.”

“I’m flattered you’ve been paying such keen attention to me, Rosier,” retorted Lily. Marlene snorted. “Is there a point to all this or were you simply expressing your infatuation with me, because if that’s the case, I’m afraid I have to put you out of your misery when I tell you you’re not my type.”

Rosier let out a harsh, derisive laugh. He stalked closer. “Believe me, Evans, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. Not even if my life depended on it.” He tiled his head in mock-consideration. “But I does beg the question. If you’re so willing to offer your services to me, who else have you offered them to?”

Any amusement or fleeting sense of victory died in her. Lily willed her tongue to say something but she could only stare at him, feeling a sickening heavy dread settle. The smirk that curled Rosier’s thin lips suggested he could feel it too.

“I always did wonder why Snape was friends with you,” he said. Lily’s nose twitched. “And now Slughorn. What, are you fucking him for extra credit? Spreading your legs like the freak you are-”

Something hot dribbled through her, something familiar and seething, and she stormed towards him, stopping only when their noses were inches apart, and she could feel every one of his rancid breaths fan against her cheek. Rosier’s eyes widened fractionally.

“What, Rosier? Threatened because a Mudblood is showing you up, again-”

“Rosier! What a pleasant surprise to see you here!”

Lily stumbled backwards at the abrupt arrival of James Potter. He strode towards them with all the time in the world on his side, like it was his castle and they were all entreating upon it. Sure enough, his usual companions were fast in his wake: Black, sauntering with his shoulders back, chin tipped daintily (or arrogantly) to the sky; Lupin, slouching, hands shoved deep in the pockets of a robe that was fraying at the edges and brushing the higher end of his calf; Pettigrew rounded the four off, scurrying along with a slight skip in his step to keep up.

“And Snivellus!” Sirius announced. “My, this is a party.”

A look as black as the greasy hair on his head crossed over Snape’s face, and he sunk deeper into the shadows, eyes trained on Sirius.

James took no notice. He smiled cordially. “What are you doing, Rosier?”

Rosier’s eyes flicked to him and back. “That is none of your business, Potter,” he drawled.

“On the contrary,” replied Sirius. He made an over-elaborate display of pointing at James’ chest. “He’s Head Boy. That makes everything his business.”

“He’s right,” said Remus genially. “In case you weren’t aware, ‘everything,’ quite literally, refers to everything. What colour your socks are-”

“What you do after hours,” added Sirius, counting them off on his fingers.

“When you’re accosting people in the hallway,” finished Peter. He raised his eyebrows knowingly.

Rosier narrowed his eyes at him, then he looked back at Lily. “It’s not an ambush. It’s a chat between a concerned student and his Head Girl, right Evans?”

His stare turned expectant. Lily didn’t break eye contact with James. “Right.”

A small frown appeared between James’ eyebrows but the space smoothed over quickly after and he smiled at the pair of them. “Well, I’m glad, but as your Head Boy, I must profess my concern over your truancy for your next lesson, Rosier. I’m sure Evans can give you a note.”

“No need,” Rosier replied. He smiled tightly. “I’ll explain the situation to Binns myself.”

“Perfect.”

Rosier gave her one last glance, and Lily met his gaze head-on, before he flicked back his cloak from his legs and turned on his heel. He jerked his head at Snape, who glared at them a final time before he followed.

“How obedient,” commented Sirius. James looked at him. His friend’s black eyes didn’t leave the two retreating figures until a few moments after they had disappeared around the corner.

Lily watched them both walk away. Her heart was beating horribly fast in her chest and she knew there was heat in her cheeks and neck because her skin felt to be burning. She wasn’t scared. She’d endured this for seven years, and whilst it was always an unfortunate occurrence, she was used to it. No. Lily was angry. In fact, she was furious.

Freak.

That word had also shattered some part of her, and she could feel the shards digging into her flesh, sending out darts of twisting pain. She didn’t know how to stop that, how to block out that word, that memory, and of all days-

Anger, she could control. She whirled on her heel and marched straight up to James Potter, prodding him in his tall, solid chest.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” she fumed. She didn’t know why but the ire was hot and writhing within her, and she couldn’t bite her tongue. Adrenaline coursed through her veins.

A genuine flash of surprise crossed James’ face and he shook his head quickly. “No, Lily. I was just-”

“Just what?” she demanded. Marlene touched her wrist, muttered her name, but Lily ignored her. “I’m not some little girl. I can handle myself! I have proved for seven years that I can handle myself!”

“I never said you couldn’t,” he murmured gently.

Sirius’ eyes flicked between them both, before he said in a low and quiet voice, “Why don’t we leave our Head Boy and Head Girl in private.”

“Good idea,” agreed Peter, and his transparency meant the concern and bewilderment was streaked across his face. “I’m sure they have lots of… Head business to do.”

Marlene closed her eyes in exasperation. Remus sighed. Nevertheless, the four of them left for Transfiguration, but not before Marlene squeezed Lily’s fingers.

Lily didn’t even glance at them. She kept her eyes fixed on Potter, because she thought that if she moved, she would cry.

“I’m fed up of people acting like I shouldn’t be here, like I can’t survive in this world. I can get the grades. I can do the magic. I belong here. I have proved that I deserve to be here-”

“Evans,” he said, a bit more forcefully, though the hurt still managed to seep into his voice and eyes. “I don’t see why you’re biting my head off.”

Lily swallowed hard. It scraped her throat. She traced the cracks in the stone floor and the curve of her shoes and then the frills at the hem of her socks and all the while, her heart grounded itself in her chest.

“Do you even know what it feels like to be an outsider?” she asked in a strangled voice. “To not belong? You’ve always had everything, Potter. You’ve always had friends and a place in this world, and I have to fight for that! Every day of my life, I will have to fight for that and you just have it handed to you on a golden platter, just like Black, just like Rosier-!”

She noticed the way he winced a little, and her shoulders slumped, heart dropping in her chest. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, imagined stirring counter clockwise and once clockwise for good luck until all the haze had disappeared from her mind. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean-”

James got closer, reaching out hesitantly to touch her arm. When Lily didn’t move away, he held both of her shoulders, rubbing her arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “What’s wrong? You hardly ate anything this morning.”

Lily sighed, reaching up to press her fingers into her eyes so her vision would go fuzzy before everything would clear up sharper. She peered at him. “You watch me eat?”

James’ eyes nearly popped out of his head. He dropped his hands and stumbled, “No. I mean, yes. That sounds weird. Not every day- I just-”

Lily looked away and laughed weakly. She prodded his chest. “I was messing with you.”

He visibly relaxed, a relieved grin slipping into place. He said, “I noticed you were quiet at the Head’s meeting last night too. Do you want to talk about it?”

She swallowed thickly, eyes darting to her feet. James stared at her, before he glanced down the corridor, licking his lips nervously. Then, he took her hand and started walking.

“Where are we going?” Lily asked, walking quickly to keep up with him.

“We are going for a walk,” he told her. “To clear our heads.”

“We can’t skip class!” she stressed, digging her heals into the floor so he couldn’t drag her along. “We’re Heads! It sets a bad example!”

“It’s McGonagall,” James replied in the same tone of voice. “Minnie is a real cool cat, you know? I’ll just tell her we had Head business. She’ll understand.”

Lily frowned, slowing down a little. “She’ll know we’re lying.”

James nodded, and he adjusted his grip on her so that he could keep them moving out of the dungeons and onto the grounds. “Sometimes, Evans, it’s not about the words themselves, but the implications behind those words, you know? Yeah, she’ll know we’re lying, but she’ll also know that we wouldn’t be using such an obvious lie if it wasn’t serious.”

“It’s not serious,” protested Lily.

James relaxed his arm around her once the October air had swallowed them and they were far enough away from the castle that she couldn’t change her mind and run back. It hung loose around her shoulders so there were still fair inches of open air between them.

He sighed. “Lily,” he began. “You’re beautiful.” Her breath hitched in her throat and she really hoped he hadn’t heard it. “You know I know that. I know you know I know that… But you are quite the ugly crier. Honestly, I think maybe the Giant Squid would be a prettier crier-”

Her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him for a second, before slapping his arm repeatedly. “Why, you chump-”

But she couldn’t stop the laughter from pouring from her, as James attempted to twist his body out of the way of her hits, mewling and complaining when her fists landed, catching her hand and laughing with her.

“See!” he said, waving her hand. “You have a beautiful smile.”

Lily pulled her fingers from his, shaking her head and unsuccessfully trying to bite back the smile tilting her lips. It broke out, however, blossoming like a meadow in spring, thriving in the light and heat of James Potter.

She followed him without another word as he led her further into the crisp, chilly grounds, skirting the lake and past Hagrid’s hut until they got to the Quidditch Pitch. Nobody was out here. They were all inside, basking in the warmth of log fires or working furiously in the classrooms. They skirted under the stands, the ghost of a million cheers falling deaf on their ears, steeping them in the peaceful silence of the day.

James didn’t stop. He walked away from her and laid down in the middle of the field, ignoring the way the cold seeped into his skin and made his uniform damp and freezing. He peered up at her, and patted the space next to him.

“Come on,” he said.

Lily didn’t have to be told twice. She laid down beside him, feeling acutely each blade of grass and drop of winter dew against her cheek, gazing up at the sky.

James’ finger pointed upwards suddenly. “That cloud looks like a dragon.”

A faint smile curled her lips. Sure enough, when she followed his finger, she could see the body, the curve of the wing, the stumps of the feet, the tail that dissipated into nothing.

“I suppose it does,” she agreed.

“And that one looks like a octopus riding a centaur.”

“Now, you’re just pulling them out of your arse.”

“No, no. Look,” assured James. He traced the clouds. “There’s tentacle one, tentacle two, tentacle three, tentacle-”

“It’s my sister’s birthday today.”

He fell silent immediately. Lily kept her eyes trained on the sky, trailing the tail of the dragon and wondering what the fire it breathed would look like, whether it would be the same fading white of the clouds that form its wings or if it would be the faded pink, still scattering from the break of that morning. James looked at her in surprise.

After a moment, he said, “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“No,” said Lily. “I don’t talk about her very much.”

Before James could say anything else, she continued hurriedly, “We used to play Pooh Sticks when we were younger. Oh- I don’t suppose you know what that is.” She laughed a little, tilting her head towards him and smiling brilliantly. “There is a stream at the bottom of my garden, and on a summer’s day, my sister and I used to go down the little bridge and drop sticks into the water and see which one would cross under the bridge first. I was… seven. Tuney was nine. We went to play.

“You get to pick your sticks, you see. You want to go for long ones- they cross the line first, thin enough to travel quickly but thick enough not to stray too far from the current. We were very competitive. We stood on the bridge and we dropped our sticks, shouting and screaming. I could see through the wooden cracks beneath our feet that Tuney’s stick was winning, so I tried to… make mine go faster. I acted as though I could push it along with my hand if I waved it frantically enough, screaming and yelling like a child-”

Lily broke off. James was staring at her. “I froze the entire stream, apart from my stick which skidded along the ice… First bit of magic I ever did was to win Pooh Sticks.”

She laughed and James smiled lopsidedly at her, though maybe that’s just because she was looking at him sideways.

“Naturally, my parents didn’t believe Tuney when she told them. So we kept it to ourselves- our little magical secret. I used to bloom flowers for her, Dahlias because they were her favourite, and make it snow in spring.”

“That’s advanced magic for a seven year old,” James told her.

Lily smiled at him. “Charms has always been my strong point.”

Her face hardened, became almost wistful, when she said, “I was nine when I first met Severus Snape. He held out his hand and created the same flowers I had always made for Tuney. They never got along. She would make jibes at his hair and clothes, and he would use magic to rip her new dresses. I always thought she was lying, you know. I thought she was jealous because I had a new friend and our magical secret was no longer just ours. It was only when I came to Hogwarts that I realised how cruel he could be, how malicious. My sister and I fell out a lot. We wouldn’t talk for days at a time.

“It got worse when I finally got my Hogwarts letter,” continued Lily. The story became difficult to tell, memory making her choke. Her face screwed up and she said in a small, wounded voice, “She called me a freak…”

James didn’t say anything. Lily knew he was still listening though. His body was warm and present next to hers, and every now and then, she would hear a breath escape gently from his lips. She closed her eyes and tried to inhale quietly, so he wouldn’t hear the way the air shuddered.

“Petunia moved out when she was 18. Now, she’s engaged to some hotshot in drills. I haven’t spoken to her since fifth year.”

There was a quiet between them. It settled over them like snow does in the fledgling days of winter, peacefully and comfortably, and neither one of them looked to indent it for a few moments.

Finally, James said, “Drills sounds like something that could kill you.”

Lily laughed loudly. Of all replies she had anticipated, she couldn’t say that was on the list. She looked at him. “I mean, if it has the grit and dedication, a duck could kill you, so I can’t exactly refute that.”

He looked at her, soaking in the amused smile still fading into her skin. James drew a line from each freckle to each hair in her eyebrows to every eyelash and fleck of gold in her eyes.

“We should be dancing,” he said suddenly.

Lily let out a short, surprised laugh. She tilted her head to look at him. “What?”

“Well, if it was my birthday, I’d want everyone to be dancing. It’s not a party if you’re not jiving.”

“James,” she was still smiling, looking at him with something shining in those wide eyes. James didn’t think he’d ever seen her look like that. He wanted to spin her around and make her laugh and immortalise that light in her forever.

James nimbly hopped to his feet, holding out a hand to pull her up. Lily eyed him oddly, but she took it nevertheless. She couldn’t have found him too weird, or maybe she did and it liberated her to realise she really wanted to dance with him in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, when they were both bunking off school, on her estranged sister’s birthday.

There was no music playing, but James spun her anyway, and Lily laughed. It spilled from her lips, flying off into the air around them. He kept twirling her until her hair whipped his arm with the winter wind, and her laugh was one continuous squeal.

“James!” she gasped.

He pulled her into his chest then. The world danced for her, pirouetting and spinning, and James remained the one constant thing in her vision. She clutched onto his shoulders tightly, lest she lose her balance.

Lily didn’t think about the owl carrying her sister’s letter once that day. She didn’t think about the way Petunia would see it flying towards her bedroom window and freeze, breath trapped in her throat. She didn’t think about the inevitable tower of scrunched up paper balls in her sister’s bin that his year’s unwanted letter would add to.

And she most certainly didn’t imagine Tuney opening her window with trembling hands to let the bird in, stroking its head and staring at the nickname she hadn’t been called in five year, written in thick, black strokes on the envelope. She didn’t see Petunia smoothing out the creases in the parchment, running her thumb over the seal wax, soaking up the words as she read it, then read it again, closing her eyes for a few moments, before she crossed her room and kneeled on the floor beside her bed, where she would slide out an old musical box.

The music played as soon as she opened it, but Lily wouldn’t play that song in her mind or close her eyes and see the way the ballerina danced. She would therefore miss the hundreds of other letters all written in the same hand, with the same red wax seal on the envelope, wishing her happy birthday and telling her about everything: the boys; the magic; her new friend Marlene who wore a leather jacket instead of her cloak and got detention for it. And she wouldn’t see the way Petunia caressed the letter a final time before she locked it safely in her box and carried on with her life as though she didn’t have a sister, when she did and she always would.

#jily #lily evans #james potter #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #harry potter #petunia dursley #lily & petunia #marlene mckinnon #Mary MacDonald

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