#well now we know cause apparently i jinxed it
Fuck everyone except for this person who pitched up Caleb’s voice to make him actually sound like a 14 year old
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Muay Thai: 1.07
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Nairi stared at the window. The window stared back. The window very much wanted her to know that its name was “Joe”.
Linden swung back out of the doorway of the bar, looking between Nairi and the window, and she grinned. “Yeah, Joe’s just like this,” she said, grabbing Nairi’s wrist and tugging her towards the door. “Come on, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
The inside of the bar was warmly lit, and while it wasn’t fancy it was definitely nicer than the dive Linden had set on fire last week. The lights hung low from the ceiling in eclectic, mismatched lamp shades, yellow and incandescent despite what felt like five million articles a week about the environment and fluorescent lighting. The booth seats were lined with shiny red vinyl, stacked along the wall opposite the long bar with its tall stools. The lights behind the bar were big, painted bulbs on a string, decorating two signs in clashing materials that read ‘JOE’ and ‘JOE’S KITCHEN’ in different fonts and stretching along the shelves that were cluttered with bottles that looked like they’d been arranged with more mind paid to how they looked than their cost or use. There was an old-fashioned popcorn machine sitting on the corner with a wire rack stacked high with paper cones, and a flowerpot on the back counter with ‘TIPS’ painted on it in colourful dots. A short and cheerful looking guy in a black shirt and thick rimmed glasses was drying a cocktail shaker with a rag, and he grinned at the two of them as they approached the bar.
Linden dropped Nairi’s wrist and slammed her hands down on the counter, gesturing towards the bartender. “Nairi, this is Joe! He runs a great bar.”
“Right,” said Nairi, nodding at him after a moment, hand raised very slightly to wave across the bar. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too!” said Joe, setting the shaker on the counter and draping the rag over his shoulder. “At last—Linden never shuts up about you. Can I grab you guys a drink?”
“Whatcha got on the non-alcoholic front?” asked Linden, totally unbothered by this assertion, grinning animatedly with glossy lips and blushed cheeks. She winked and elbowed Nairi lightly. “Nairi’s tee-total. Not big on the caffeine, either.”
“Just a coke is fine,” said Nairi to Joe with another awkward nod.
“Oh, I can do you an orange juice if caffeine’s a bug,” said Joe brightly, pulling a glass off the rack in front of him. “Gotta say, coke’s got too much for me on nights I’m not working, don’t like to drink it after the sun’s down, y’know? Or if you wanna go a bit fancy I can whip up a mocktail! Dash of grenadine, shot of mango, tiny umbrella, the works?”
“Orange juice is great, thanks,” said Nairi after a moment, hooking her hands into her back pockets to stop them from clasping in front of her chest.
“Coke’s got caffeine in it?” said Linden, leaning on the bar.
Joe nodded, bending at the waist and pulling a bottle of orange juice out of one of the clear fronted fridges behind him. “Yeah! I guess ‘cause it’s sweet most people don’t think of it. Can I grab ya something, Lindy? I got a new case of chocolate stout in on Tuesday, it’s pretty great.”
Linden laughed, kicking her toe back behind her to prop on the floor as she leaned in. “Oh, don’t tempt me—you know how I feel about stouts! Can I just have a vodka on a rock?”
Joe laughed and nodded as he finished pouring the orange juice, pulling out a squat glass and depositing the largest ice cube Nairi had ever seen into it. He poured a generous amount of vodka over the ice, then finished each drink with a splash of pink grenadine and a novelty straw. Linden’s had a heart shaped loop in it.
He pushed set them on the counter in front of them with a grin, and Nairi smiled back, handing over her card.
A warm hand found Nairi’s, Linden guiding them towards a booth at the back of the room. Nairi glanced at her, eyes flicking around the room for a bin where she could get rid of her novelty straw. “How do you feel about stouts?”
Linden’s mouth twitched. “No clue,” she admitted. “They’re like, the dark ones, right? Joe’s really big on his beers.”
“You’re not?” said Nairi, her mouth twitching a little.
Linden held up her vodka in a mock salute with a wink. “I’m more in favour of efficiency and having fun.”
“A woman after my own heart,” said Nairi.
Linden giggled, the lines around her eyes creasing as they drew to a halt by the backmost booth, occupied by two colourful hairstyles and a grouchy looking ginger in glasses. The first two Nairi recognised from Linden’s texts—the grad student friends with musical talent. The ginger was a mystery.
“Guys, this is Nairi!” said Linden to the table, prompting the three of them to turn their heads with a chorus of greetings, curious eyes lingering on Nairi. “Nairi, this is Mason,” soft faced man, teal hair flat ironed into a fringe over one eye, “Flo,” a young black woman, her cornrows and wayfarer style glasses in matching shades of bright pink, “and Agatha!” solving the mystery of the ginger.
“Welcome to the post-grad misery zone,” said Mason, toasting her with a pink and fizzy drink complete with a straw to match Linden’s. “Agatha’s just submitted her PhD thesis, we’re commiserating.”
“Oh, uh, congratulations?” said Nairi to Agatha.
“Thanks,” said Agatha tiredly, shoving her glasses up her nose.
“No!” said Flo, slapping the table with a wide grin. “We cannot congratulate you before your defence, it’s bad luck! We’ll jinx you!”
Mason laughed, a little too loudly, shaking his head as Linden slid into the seat next to Flo with a short cackle, patting the vinyl next to her with a grin at Nairi. “We’ll crack out the leg-breaking wishes on the day for you, Aggy,” she said, leaning into a hug from Flo.
Nairi perched awkwardly at the edge of the booth, setting her pink-tinged juice on the table. Agatha’s eyes kept flicking towards her as she and Mason talked about scheduling logistics and email exchanges with professors. Nairi tried not to let it bother her and took a sip of her drink, turning her head to tune into Linden and Flo where they’d gone rapid fire into chatting about… performances? She thought they’d been arguing about theatre curses, but they were well into local bands now, the conversation jumping so quickly she couldn’t keep track.
She turned the glass around in her hand, fingers twitching slightly, and then glanced up as she heard footsteps approaching. Edith caught her eye, slowing to a halt on her way past the table. “Oh, hello again,” she said, sounding faintly amused as her eyebrow twitched up and disrupted her usual frown. “I heard you two had an exciting week.”
“Not really. Kinda quiet,” said Nairi, taking another sip of her juice.
Edith gave a quiet scoff of a laugh, rapping her knuckles on the tabletop next to Nairi’s hand. “Really? That’s not quite what Nicholas has been saying.”
Nairi hummed, setting her glass down.
Edith collected a neat whiskey from a round-faced young woman who joined her from the bar. “This is Verity,” she said, nodding at her. “Verity, this is Nairi and the redhead is Linden, the one who knows people in town closer to your age.”
At a guess Verity was about ten years older than anyone else at the table. Edith didn’t appear to care about this fact. Nairi nodded at her with an awkward smile, her teeth toggling with a tag of skin on the inside of her cheek. “Nice to meet you. Excuse me, uh, I just—need the bathroom a second.”
“Have fun,” said Edith glibly as Nairi stood and edged past her.
Nairi ignored her as she strode to the back of the bar, trying not to pick up speed as she went.
Mercifully the bathroom was empty. It was a small, two stall affair, and while Joe’s sense of interior design had extended into the room in the questionable paint choices and a talking bass over the paper towel dispenser, it was also quiet. She hesitated, then wedged the door shut, leaning her back against it and covering her face with her hands.
What was she doing? It was only three people. Three of Linden’s friends, that was all. Edith and Verity made five, but that wasn’t a crowd. She’d been in crowded bars, filled with way more people, louder volumes, far, far more confusing conversations—
And when she escaped to the bathroom it was usually to snort something before she went back out and glared at everyone who tried to talk to her, filled in the cynical voice that sat in the back of her head.
Suddenly the bathroom was the last place she wanted to be. She glared at the floor and stood up properly, setting the cold tap on the tiny sink to full blast and shoving her hands under the stream. She slammed the soap dispenser aggressively and started scrubbing at her hands, wrinkling her nose at the strong, sickly scent. Water splashed up her sleeves as she took deep breaths through her nose, counting down from one hundred silently.
By the time she turned off the tap her hands were numb, the paper towel scraping her skin through what felt like a thick, protective coating all over her fingers. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath before exiting the bathroom.
When she came back out there’d been a switch in the conversational configurations and she paused, looking around to see if there was somewhere she’d… fit. It was worth it, to try, wasn’t it?
Mason and Flo were knocking elbows at the bar, looking at liquor bottles, while Verity and Edith had joined Agatha for a conversation that apparently required a lot of serious expressions and shredded napkins. Linden had swapped tables entirely, engaged deeply in a conversation with an older woman.
Nairi started to drift towards them, catching a snippet of what they were saying.
“—yeah, it definitely gets easier once you’re off the spiro, after,” Linden was saying as she rolled a beer bottle between her hands, previous glass empty on the table in front of her. “I go for injections these days, I’m like, totally useless at remembering to take a daily pill, though I did while I was in college.”
“I’ve been considering swapping,” said the woman, nodding at Linden. “My partner gets squeamish with needles, though—”
Nairi’s feet turned to head towards the bar without her actively thinking about it. She had no desire to discuss anything relating to needles or medication right now, no matter how benign.
“Oh, I knew if I left them alone they’d get into hormones!” said a cheerful voice from just beside her.
Nairi turned and was greeted by a short, androgynous looking blond with their hand outstretched. For lack of a better response, she shook it.
“I’m Avery,” they said, smiling widely. “Are you Nairi? Your friend, Linden, mentioned you before I left her alone with Cynth and let them derail straight into titty-skittle talk.”
Nairi latched onto one part of the sentence without meaning to. “Synth?”
Avery burst out laughing. “Sorry! Cynthia—my wife. I have to shorten every name, it’s my worst trait!”
“No-o! We all do it, you’ll fit right in!” cried out Flo, wrapping an arm around Avery’s shoulders and squeezing. “Nairi! Come sit with us! Avery uses they as a personal pronoun, isn’t that cool?”
“Um, very cool,” said Nairi, letting herself follow them up to the front of the bar where Mason and Joe were very seriously discussing what the essential components of a good Manhattan were.
Flo and Avery giggled, jostling up against each other and Nairi as they took the seats next to Mason. Joe grinned at them as they sat, Mason taking a dainty sip of his cocktail through a comically small straw. “Hey, hey! Anything I can get for you ladies and genderqueer? Another juice?” he said, winking at Nairi.
Flo gasped, slapping the top of the bar. “Mocktails! Joe, do you know any good mocktails?”
“Oh, no, it’s okay—” started Nairi, but Flo and Avery were nodding eagerly, and someone’s hand patted her shoulder.
“I love mocktails!” crowed Avery, nodding eagerly. “Cynth thinks they’re dumb—she’s a grain alcohol kinda lady—”
“I might know some mocktails,” said Joe loudly, and Mason, Avery and Flo cheered raggedly, Flo clapping over the counter.
Joe did make a good mocktail, or at least a tasty one. Tasty wasn’t always the same as ‘good’ when it came to regular cocktails, but she thought hers might be pineapple based and it was sweet, so Nairi thought it was good. The others were easy conversation too; they didn’t actively leave her out, but no one was leaning on her to talk, and when she did, at least one of them paid attention.
Still, when she heard her name called she was grateful for the excuse to walk away from the loud chatter.
“There you are,” said Linden cheerfully as she stopped at the table, the seating arrangement having cycled through again. She and Agatha were on one side of the booth, their cheeks reddened from the booze, or the warmth, or the conversation, Nairi couldn’t tell. Edith was sprawled across from them, taking up the whole bench seat and looking highly amused by whatever they were talking about. “Do you wanna go for a ride?” Linden asked guilelessly, looking up at Nairi as she took a drink from her beer.
“Yeah, sure,” said Nairi, shrugging at her. “Where were you thinking of heading out to?”
Edith snorted and Linden shrugged back. “Don’t know yet, still mulling it over. You left your drink at the bar,” she added. She was still smiling, but there was something cynical lurking in her eyebrows.
“Oh, thanks,” said Nairi, with the nagging feeling that she’d missed something.
There was a small kerfuffle as she turned to head back to the bar, rustling of cloth and Linden saying, “You see what I mean?” about something.
Her drink was where she’d left it, Flo and the others were being corralled back to the booths by Cynthia, and when she turned around, Agatha was standing there, looking a little flushed. “Hi,” she said, blinking at her.
“Hi,” said Agatha, and then, all at once: “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Yes,” said Nairi immediately, a rush of relief filling at her at the sudden escape route in front of her.
“Really?” said Agatha, smiling at her. “I, I meant—with me?”
Nairi smiled back at her. “Yeah.” Agatha was cute, in an angry kind of way, she thought, suddenly speculative. And god only knew it had been too long since she’d had any kind of intimacy like that, friendly or otherwise. Besides, if it went downhill she could probably take her. “Let me just say goodbye to Linden, she doesn’t like it when I vanish without warning her.”
“Oh, of course,” said Agatha, nodding, her cheeks reddening. “I’ll meet you outside?”
Nairi set her glass down in the ‘return zone’ Joe had marked out on the bar in neon washi tape (it had parking bays, he was really committed to the quirky bit) and walked back over to Linden’s booth, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Hey, I’m heading home for the night,” she said casually, nudging Linden’s shoulder with her knuckles.
Linden’s eyes widened as she looked up, gaze darting past Nairi then back. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Nairi, nodding at her. “It was good to get out of the house. I’ll text you later?”
“Sure,” said Linden, tone clipped, nodding. Across the table Edith was visibly laughing into her hand. “Later.”
Nairi headed towards the exit and Agatha, and behind her she heard Edith’s laughter suddenly rise in volume over the chatter.
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More of where Snack came from
This is what happens when you discuss narrative parallels between them and end up creating scenes during the conversation. @thedreamermusing wrote the Sirius parts, while I wrote the Snape ones.
Here is a little AU, where Sirius lives at the end of Order of Phoenix.
When Sirius sees Lily's patronus--beautiful and graceful and almost forgotten in the years in Azkaban -- landing in the kitchen of Grimmauld place, he's mystified, remembering when James saw it for the first time. 'We're made for each other,' he'd said, spinning Lily around in his arms. Sirius reverently reaches out an arm to touch it. And then---'Black,' a silky voice made of grease and cold water says. 'Your godson is of the opinion that you aren't uselessly hiding away in your mother's house and somehow thinks that you're with the Dark Lord. Do try to prove him wrong and stay where you are.' As the patronus fades away, the only thought left in Sirius's mind is 'Motherfucker'.
Snape always wondered if his life was an elaborate joke. It was humiliating enough, revealing his Patronus to Black, of all people. He was dreading stepping foot in the house. It was amazing - how showing that vulnerable part of himself, that part he asked Dumbledore to swear no one must know, makes him feel like a teenager again. Powerless. Anxious. Twitchy. This is all the fault of that stupid boy - if he didn't prize that connection of his, if he had heeded what was said, he would not have been in this position. It's only luck that no one got killed for his stupidity. Luck favours everyone but him, apparently.
To Snape's horror, he was early at the headquarters. Black was sitting at the long table, reading a letter. He stilled when he entered. "Snape" Black acknowledged gruffly, without looking up. He didn't deign to respond. It was a trap - whatever it was. He wondered when that ridiculous woman would come and knock over the umbrella, so that the entire house is filled with Black's delightful mother's shrieks. There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by Black looking up at him. "So....Evans?"
Snape's insides were glacial. Don't react, don't react, don't react. He used her maiden name to get a rise out of you .. lull you into a false sense of security...
It seemed that Black was amused by his inability to respond. This made him angry. "Well, it turns out I no longer doubt your alliegances" he continued. "So what's in it for you Snivellus? Revenge?"
Snape raised his eyebrows. "Spare me your curiosity. You know as well as I do that I have no inclination to chat with you". "But I want to chat with you" Black smirked. "You see, I want to make sense of this". Snape reached for the handle of his wand instinctively. "Contrary to whatever you may believe, Black, you are not entitled to any answers and certainly not from me".
"When did you turn spy?" Black asked abruptly. "Were you the one who told Dumbledore that there was someone close to us who had betrayed us?"
Snape said nothing. He would give nothing to Black, no information about that hideous year spent fearing for her life and his own, tangled in loyalties he knew not where. "I am going to take that as a yes" Black said, his grey eyes boring into him. "Why did you do it? What really made you turn?"
"Shut up" he hissed, finally drawing his wand and flicking it into his most useful spell, Langlock. No one can know. No one, he remembered telling Dumbledore.
Black stopped speaking as his tongue got stuck to the roof of his mouth. He looked furious as he whipped out his own wand. The Order filed in just then - all looking unsurprised to see them both pointing their wands at each other. "Sirius, please" the werewolf implored. Black looked up at him angrily, but his jinx rendered him unable to say whatever was on his mind.
For the first time since he stepped into the house, the anxiety in Snape's chest eased a bit. He still had power. He was no longer that young boy - no longer. "Unfortunately for us, Black wouldn't be gracing us with his remarkable wit today," he said, stuffing his own wand back into his robes. The werewolf glared at him. He sneered. "It's quite alright, not like he has been upto anything useful recently - apart from not getting lured into the Ministry to run after his idiot of a godson. And we don't want endless reminisces of that, do we?"
'Fucking Snivellus,' Sirius thought furiously, hardly listening to the Order meeting. It burned--burned him to think he owed his and Harry's life to the greasy bastard, that he'd listened to the warning and stayed put, that Harry and his friends were apprehended before they went on to make a tragedy of things at the Ministry. He never would have thought Snape would be capable of such depth of emotion, that he felt so deeply for Lily. He'd known of course that they were friends of a sort in their initial years at Hogwarts, something James railed about constantly back then. But he'd never considered it important, thought Snape was a bit of a charity case for Lily. But he should have known better; Lily wasn't one to make friends out of charity. She'd seen something in him evidently, something they had all missed.
And yet, none of them had seen anything in Peter.
Sirius glares at Snape, who continues to glare back. 'Fucking greasy bat. Why couldn't you just be an enemy?' To think that Sirius had gotten it all so wrong about Peter, his brother in all but blood, the boy he'd patiently tutored through the animagus transformation, the boy who he would have died for while Snape, fucking Snivellus Snape, would end up being loyal to a friend who'd cut him off years earlier, would switch sides and save Sirius's life even--it's funny really. He's tempted to laugh, laugh like a maniac, at the absurdity, the injustice, out of grief--let out all his curled up emotions in a big hearty laugh. But then again, that hadn't worked out so well for him 15 years ago. So the only thing he can do is glare at Snape. But the familiar hatred is more unsettling now than comforting.
Snape couldn't help but stiffen at the prickly sensation of being watched during his meeting report. He knew without really looking that it was Black - Black trying to fish out his truth with his grey eyes, truth that he is not willing to give to him. He would leave immediately after the meeting - perhaps ask Dumbledore whether he could just give his reports in person, in his office, rather than bother coming to Headquarters. After all, the Order is hardly a democracy with Dumbledore controlling what information gets presented in his report and what remains between them. What's the difference? It's not a good idea anymore to come here. And Black will surely be prepared for his jinx next time - he can't be stupid enough to hope he will get him to shut up everytime.
So when the meeting got over, he jumped to his feet, ready to escape, when a thin hand gripped his shoulder. Snape turned around, pulling out his wand and wasn't surprised to find it pointed at Black's face.
A small, teenage part of him wanted to yell, leave me alone!
"Easy" Black said, quietly. He made no move to take out his wand. It could perhaps be the werewolf close by, watching them. "I want answers. I am grateful you saved Harry's life- and if I hadn't known what I know about you now, I would have not thought too much about this. But I want to know, Snape. I want to know what happened before they died. I want to know how many other transgressions I should be killing Wormtail for".
Snape took in the look on his face. "You want me to help with murder? Great idea Black, since I was on receiving end of your clever jokes-"
"You don't want to kill him?" Black interuppted, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. "You wanted to get me Kissed by Dementors because you thought I killed her and now-"
"I can't kill him!" Snape hissed at him.A twisted truth came tumbling out of him. He wanted to - oh, he wanted to. He went on: "Unfortunately for you, not every fight is won by smashing your way in like a moronic Gryffindor - there are things only I can do and I don't intend to put myself in any position that is dangerous to the cause".
There was a silence. "Fair enough. " Black said, stepping back. Snape thought it was safer to put his own wand back into his pocket now. "You don't kill him" Black simply said. "You help me find him".
Snape looked at him in utter disbelief. He couldn't believe him ."Didn't you just hear me? I am not risking blowing my cover. There will be a time for that and an opportunity will arise - he is no longer useful to the Dark Lord. But I don't want any eyes on me and certainly not for your schemes. Get your wolf to do it for you - at least he can plead temporary insanity".
"Leave him out of it" Black said harshly, glancing at him sitting close by. "Too late for that, isn't it?" Snape said, softly. "You involved him in the first place. What's the matter? These are your rules, I am just playing by them".
Black looked like he was praying for patience before he said what he did next. "I don't suppose you will tell me about that year". Snape sneered at him. "No, I won't. Now, goodbye Black " he whipped out of the headquarters, hoping he'd never have to step foot in it again.
Remus approached Sirius, a little amused. "Well, that went well. " Sirius shrugged. "I suppose. I still need him to tell me about Peter". Remus' eyes were cold. "You think he would help us?"
"He has to," Sirius said flatly. "After what Peter did to Harry in the graveyard, I am going to kill him with my bare hands if I have to".
Now if anyone wants to make this full fledged AU where they all corner Wormtail and revise their traumas and deep projections in the process, feel free to continue. XD
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“You? A star guardian?” A high pitched laugh rang through the air like a beautiful bell being struck.
How dare this human- Nami’s mind began to seethe as she began to feel the heat of embarrassment threatening to darken her features. Biting sharply down on her tongue, she wrestled with her bold, stubborn anger and was met with the bitter taste of blood. Forcing the heated stare she wanted to wear into a charming smile, she shifted her weight in her brown loafers and clasped her hands behind her back in a casual way to show she was unfazed by the human girl who sat across from her.
Although the girl, Lux as she was called, sat at a student’s school desk she oozed authority. And although Nami knew better than to question her leadership, it was in the siren’s nature to always challenge it.
Lux’s lavender-pink eyes narrowed into near slits from behind her bangs of bright pink hair. She had been searching for weakness, but Nami knew she would find no weakness in her.
“I’m afraid I must insist-” Nami began, her teeth slightly gritting together as she struggled to maintain a sense of pleasantry in her tone. There was only one thing she hated more than arrogance, it was arrogance with power.
“You must insist?” Another laugh bubbled from Lux in a condescending, humored way that made Nami want to throttle the girl. Sitting back, Lux wore a smile, but the siren could see that it was full of anger and resentment as she clicked her neatly trimmed nails on the desk in obvious annoyance.
Nami didn’t need to ask why it was that Lux harbored such a dislike for her. Privacy, Nami thought and squeezed her hands tightly together. The thought made Nami nearly scream in anger. Such a stupid, insipid fallacy that humans wrapped themselves in to seem special and moral and now it was keeping Nami from accomplishing her goal.
Why should it matter that she studied Lux to learn about human body language? What did it matter that she watched the girl constantly in the distance? Didn’t humans value personal space? And what was so wrong with reading Lux’s diary? The mentality of a human girl was just as important as body language if Nami wanted to fit in with her human transformation spell.
Perhaps it was the incident of asking Lux why she acted so different around Ezreal and Jinx? Or perhaps it was the fact that Nami discovered the existence of the Star Guardians through something as silly and frivolous as a diary.
Turning her attention to the window Nami watched as the biting winter outside shook the trees, their empty reaching branches bare and twisted. A few students moved about, bundled to their noses with scarves and jackets to battle the cold. To Nami it was an adjustment getting used to the weather, but the cold was still a familiar friend as her home was in the deep of the sea.
A loud slap echoed through the mostly empty room as Lux brought her hand down on the table top and pulled Nami from her musings. A surprised squeak came from under a nearby desk, the late afternoon sun shining on it from the clean, frosted window nearby.
“Chill out Luxikins,” said the girl occupying the top of the desk beside Lux’s, her feet dangling off in a playfully bored sort of way. A smile was spreading across her features as she looked from Lux to Nami. To the siren this girl, Jinx according to Lux’s diary, looked positively manic, her long, red braided pigtails she sported were frayed and wild in places. Nothing about Jinx seemed put together. As if she were just barely sewn together chaos. And Nami would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a certain unease around Jinx as she continued to watch Nami through bright crimson eyes.
A small sigh came from Jinx that quickly turned to a giggle. It was a mad sound, but also a carefree one that made Nami feel as though she wanted to laugh as well.
“You let your panties get all twisted over this one,” Jinx said beginning to pick at one of her fingernails, distracted until looking over at the expression of boiling anger that Lux shone in her direction.
Quickly Jinx rose her hands defensively. “Woah, woah there chief. I’m only saying- just-” Looking over at the other girls in the room for help, Jinx blew at a tuft of bangs that had fallen into her eyes. “Forget it,” she finished with a groan and turned to where her back was to Lux and her attention to the lonesome trees outside.
“Jinx does have a point,” a soft voice spoke up from the back of the room. Nami had nearly forgotten about the guardian that had been leaning against a bookshelf, unmoving for nearly the whole meeting. Dark violet hair framed her beautiful, pale face, and Nami knew that her soft spokenness marked her to be Janna. “You tend to get quite- upset over this one, Lux.”
Nami watched as the girl moved and spoke with a sort of calm grace that seemed to soothe Lux into wearing only a small frown. Nami had always considered Lux to be a bubbly beauty but Janna’s beauty was something otherworldly. As if she were intended to be a statue in some beautiful garden some place, but instead had life breathed into her. The siren would remember that although Janna was no leader she was clearly the one that kept the group collected and together.
“Lux, perhaps we should consider-” Janna started, but was instantly silenced by the curt shake of Lux’s head.
“You know it’s not up to me,” Lux said, almost dismissively. Jinx scoffed loudly causing Lux to raise an eyebrow, looking thoroughly peeved with her. This, however, did not deter Jinx even for a moment.
“What a load of sh-” Jinx retorted, her crimson irises rolling skyward.
“It’s not a load of anything-” Lux began to exclaim, and Nami could sense an opening.
“If I could just have a chance-” Nami said earnestly and Lux shot a furious glare at the siren and Nami immediately fell silent. Too soon, she chastised herself. Too soon…
“Hold this, Pops,” a small, giddy voice squeaked from under a desk as an obnoxiously large, purple marker rose up to meet a small girl who sat nearby, looking quite disinterestedly out the window. One hand holding her chin, she reached over with her free hand and took the marker, holding it there until the girl under the desk beside her required it again. A rogue strand of blue hair fell in her face and she batted it away with the back of her hand, sitting up and moving her arm to casually drape over the back of her chair.
After only a moment, Nami noticed the two furry points of ears that perched atop the girl’s head also colored blue. The small, sharp fangs that peeked out from beneath her lips told Nami she must be the warrior yordle named Poppy. Excitement filled her as Nami found her smile becoming genuine. Lux’s diary spoke briefly about Poppy’s strength and Nami’s curiosity of meeting such a strong warrior was peaked.
“What on earth are you doing, Lulu?” Lux asked, almost tiredly, as if she asked this question a million times a day. Nami couldn’t see who Lux was talking to and she avoided bending down to satiate her curiosity. “Can you please join us, Lu?” Lux spoke seeming as though she were trying to convince a child to eat something they disliked.
After a moment a small hand rose up, purple marker staining the white skin.
“Just- one- more- second-” the voice squeaked, quickly followed by a loud thump then an excited cry. “Huzzah! Annnnd finished!”
A messy mop of bright green hair appeared, along with the telltale Yordle ears that cocked themselves to and fro until a pair of bright, giddy blue eyes looked over at Nami.
“You!” Lulu said excitedly and clapped her hands together. Nami felt confusion wash over her as the Yordle girl rushed over, looking up and down Nami. Reaching out she poked at one of Nami’s legs and let out a shriek of laughter. “Brilliant,” the girl continued exclaiming. Everyone else continued to watch in part silence, disinterest and embarrassment. Reaching out, Lulu grabbed Nami’s hand and studied it. “Your magic is beautiful.”
A bright flush of crimson burned across Nami’s face unexpectedly.
“Ex-excuse me?” Nami stuttered, pulling her hand from Lulu’s. The Yordle girl looked hurt for a moment but then quickly bounced over to Lux, a wide grin on her face.
“Seems you have no choice, Lux,” Lulu said and Jinx looked over, spinning atop the desk until she was back in the conversation.
“Spill it, small stack,” Jinx said, interest apparent again in her voice.
“Poppy, if you don’t mind,” Lulu said, giving a great, dramatic wave of her hand to the desk she had recently occupied underneath of.
Poppy shifted, her blue furred ear twitching as she reached out a foot and lightly tapped the desk beside her, causing it to fly forward and topple over. Nami’s eyes immediately marveled at the girl’s strength. She had always heard that the Yordle race was strong and powerful, but it was something entirely different to see such a small frame deliver such a powerful blow by barely moving a foot.
A shocked breath of air from Lux caused Nami to look at what everyone else had already been staring at. There were lots of stars drawn haphazardly across the bottom of the desk, the purple marker staining the light oak wood.
Wait- Nami thought and tilted her head to the side, moving only slightly forward to see better. Was that… Her?!
Nami’s eyes wandered to everyone in the group, and there was some form of surprise on everyone’s face… except Lulu’s. Lulu looked completely pleased and proud of herself as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Giving a slight nod, she looked over at Nami and then to Lux.
“Whether you like it or not, Nami will be the next chosen star guardian.”
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Look at me now being the slow one to answer (I actually had some plans this weekend, shocking, I know. More on that later). I don’t mind at all! I get that you just want to sit down and take your time, because these are not the quick little notes or questions. Just take as long as you need.
The views are 100% worth it alone. Imagine me sitting in a ski lift, afraid for my life that I’d drop my phone, but still taking pictures because everything is too pretty.
Okay, so, when your tourniquet (or your helpers thumb) is working and the alcohol did the vasodilation thingy, the front-leg arteries aren’t all that difficult to see. Also, you can feel them. When you poke the skin, the place where the vein is, is more springy (I really don’t know how else to describe this, but you can feel them). You can’t really see it as well on the picture, but there you go. However, for cats (and sometimes even small dogs) it’s easier to just go straight for the v. jugularis most of the time (and you almost always go for that one in farm animals). I don’t think the v. jugularis is a place where many IV’s are placed in humans. Does it help when the skin is a bit more translucent or the veins are more superficially located? And that’s on the IV stuff.
I really don’t get the hate on the Buck Begins episode? For me it might have been the best one thus far. Indeed! Everything hits differently and the fact that Oliver and JLF didn’t have this extent of background information and still pulled everything of the previous episodes so well is just mind-blowing! And the subtleties in the whole episode? And the make-up department outdoing itself with all Maddies injuries for the post-card scenes. *chefs kiss*
Bobby and Athena are 100% Bucks parents
Eddie is a German Shepherd. I can see that, hadn’t really thought about it, but I can definitely see that. I think you’re one 100% right to look into the shepherd dogs for Eddie. I have a suggestion: a mix with a German Shepherd and another shepherd breed. Like, say with a Groenendaeler, Malinois, Tervuren or even a Dutch. (I have a slight soft spot for Malinois Shepherds)
The Henley thing!! Yes, there is nothing to add to this.
Eddie loves listening to Buck ramble on random things. It’s grounding for him. Buck loves how Eddie always listens to him. He gives Buck the experience of being heard.
I’d say that there is 100% a reason Eddie is becoming a reservoir of random facts, and the reason is Buck.
My general head-canon is just Eddie knowing how to make a very few, specific things and yes. 100% That Eddie knows how to make the best hot chocolate and I don’t even need to close my eyes to see Buck and Chris going absolutely ballistic for it.
Teefies. You and teefie anon are doing a thing and are getting everybody into the teefies. You should be proud, I’m actively noticing them now when I rewatch episodes. Also your interactions are great, I mostly agree with everything you’re saying. I still don’t like an Ana and Eddie relationship, but like you said, we’ll see where that will go. I just don’t see the chemistry?
Now, my weekend was kinda… eventful? I cut my brothers hair somewhere around month 2 of the lockdown at the start of the pandemic. He kinda liked it apparently because he wanted me to cut his hair again this weekend. I was low-key nervous, but I’m glad to report I didn’t do badly at all, if my dad immediately after I was finished wanted me to cut his hair too. If the vet thing isn’t going to work out, I have options of other careers to pursue.
And all of the peeps of one of my friend groups managed to get together again on a videochat for the first time since the end of November, and that was a lot of fun. Also, I went hiking in the forest and polder with a friend and one of the doggo’s this afternoon. Remember how I told you we had a lot of snow two weeks ago? Like a ton and it was like -17 at night… Well, today it was 18 degrees with sunshine. It’s a mind boggling 35 degree difference and I don’t know how to feel about that. It was nice to wear short-sleeves and no jacket again? But way too early in the year. Still kinda sad about the snow and cold. And I have to say it, how Dutch of me to talk about the weather.
How was your weekend? Assuming you’ve seen the new episode when you’re answering back, what did you think of it? I also remember you talking about Taylor Swift and turning a friend into a Swifty? What’s your favourite album? Also, if you were represented by two albums, which ones would you choose?
Hello and happy friday dear!! it is seriously okay if it takes you a while to answer, makes me feel a little better about my late answers 😭
I can only imagine the views! like wow seriously!! you gotta send me pics some day!!
okay now that I read your description it really isn't that much different from human’s. you usually can see the vein, and you need to be able to feel it (I never stick if I don't have a feeling of where to stick) and you said it so right, the vein does feel springy!! like lil bouncy. and it does help that humans have transparent skin and no hair in the way. Yeah, with humans and ivs we stay away from the v.jugularis! we could cause so much damage sticking to it. also its very uncomfortable for patient. we start with the arm’s veins, if those are no go then we move onto different type of cannulation, central line catethrazition. I've once seen an anesthesiologist put an iv to patient’s thumb! 😂
EXACTLY. buck begins was so fucking good. A MASTERPIECE. they all out did themselves!
Bobby and Athena are 100% Bucks parents. Exactly. YOU GET IT.
Eddie is a German Shepherd. I can see that, hadn’t really thought about it, but I can definitely see that. I think you’re one 100% right to look into the shepherd dogs for Eddie. I have a suggestion: a mix with a German Shepherd and another shepherd breed. Like, say with a Groenendaeler, Malinois, Tervuren or even a Dutch. (I have a slight soft spot for Malinois Shepherds)
--> OMFG I love this!!!! THIS IS THE BREED FOR EDDIE.
Teefies. You and teefie anon are doing a thing and are getting everybody into the teefies. You should be proud, I’m actively noticing them now when I rewatch episodes. Also your interactions are great, I mostly agree with everything you’re saying. I still don’t like an Ana and Eddie relationship, but like you said, we’ll see where that will go. I just don’t see the chemistry?
--> TEEFIE ANON YO WE GOT MAIL HONEY <3 we are very proud owners of teefie nation <3
hey seriously its okay not to vibe with eddie and ana. I personally like them, but everyone has their own ideas! and that's okay!
omg you have a future in the hair cutting business then!! I have once cut my own hair and im n e v e r doing that again. of course its different to cut others hair than your own but like...I can't
okay I love your weekend!! group video chats with friends is the best thing ever, im planning to meet up with my friends on Skype this weekend and we’ll probably end up talking again for like 4-5 hours cause...WE HAVE LOT TO SAY. im sorry DO YOU HAVE 18 CELSIUS? CELSIUS????? 18??????? meanwhile in Finland it has been snowing non-stop for about 5 days and it was like -15 celsius for two weeks (now it has gotten warmer tho, only like -5 now). but like walking around without a jacket?? feels like a fever dream. oh Dutch people talk about weather too?? I thought it was only a Finn thing do!!
My weekend was good! I was visiting my family back home and it was nice. Its weekend again! I don't have big plans, gonna do few studying things, and tomorrow morning im gonna hit the gym and then do some cleaning, also gonna Skype my homies.
I LOVED THE NEW EPISODE. EVERYTHING ABOUT IT. Eddie and ana, THE HELIUM SCENE, book club, jealous buck, buck in a backwards cap, Eddie and bobby talk (still crying about that), all the firefamily content, just like...everything. seriously one of my top 5 eps. WHAT DID YOU THINK!!!!
ahahahah yeah im a folklore & evermore swiftie and I indeed did turn one of my besties into a swiftie too!! My favorite albums are definitely folklore and evermore. THOSE JUST HIT SO FUCKING DIFFERENT. if I was represented with two albums, they would be evermore by Taylor swift and good news by Megan thee stallion. I LOVED THIS QUESTION BTW.
what are your favorite singers/bands/type of music? also gonna bounce back the same question to you: if you were represented by two albums, what would they be?
and about the new episode: are you one of the people who believe in jinxes but are cool with artificial tech like hildys etc or do you not believe in jinxes and are not cool with artificial tech like hildys (like mr diaz)? 🤠
and now I wanna know your weekend plans for this weekend!! also what kind of courses do you have going on right now?
seriously thank you for having patience with me <3
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Tsukishima walked up to the group of guys and one girl just as (Y/n) was getting ready to compete. She already had some chalk on her from the warm up and was adjusting her grips while the judges scored the teammate that went before her.
“Tsukki you came” Yaichi cheered as the blonde sat down in between his best friend and Kenma.
“Mr. Park let me take lunch early for this, he’s really fond of (Y/n) and when I told him she’s the reason I wanna take lunch he let me off” Tsukishima explained.
“Tell your boss we love him” Bokuto said happily from behind Tsukishima.
“Just in time too (N/n)’s about to go up” Hinata said.
When they announced the score of the girl that went before (Y/n) the team cheered for their teammate before going silent for (Y/n)’s routine. [Link Above]
“Have you guys ever seen her in action?” Iwaizumi asked from his seat behind Akaashi and Bokuto.
“Yeah but it doesn’t stop us from being amazed by her” Oikawa awed as the girl flew from the bottom bar to the top one.
“She’s really awesome” Kuroo admired the gymnast as she flipped back from the top bar to the bottom.
“I think we would all break our necks if we tried that” Kenma stated all the boys agreeing with him. Tadashi glanced up at his best friend noting the way the boy smiled softly at (Y/n) as she did a double front tuck and landing her dismount. Her team along with the college students all cheered for her. Including a few members from Kuroo and Bokuto’s school cheered for the gymnast. (Y/n) saluted to the judges before getting off the mats. She looked up at the bleachers her eyes brightened at the sight of Tsukishima sitting next to her best friend. She giddily waved at the blonde making him smirk and waved back.
He noticed the way she gave extra support to her formerly injured shoulder. Her physical therapy wasn’t over with so she must be over exerting her injury. He payed extra attention to her instead in his friends making sure if she was okay.
When (Y/n) looked back at him he gave her a look. She read him too well and knew what he was asking. She took her hand off her shoulder sending him a thumbs up before mouthing that she was just sore. He nodded his head choosing to belive her.
“Young love” Kuroo chuckled. Tsukishima without taking his eyes off (Y/n) leaned back and smacked Kuroo’s head causing the older boy to whine.
“What’s the score?” Kenma asked not looking up from his phone where he was reviewing the video he took of (Y/n)’s routine.
“They’re about to show us” Hinata said from his spot next to Kenma
The next girl set herself up for bars as the boy holding the sign for the score showed the team the score first before showing the audience.
“9.5” Tadashi said excitedly.
“That’s the best score all competition for bars” Oikawa said causing Kuroo, Hinata, and Bokuto to cheer like idiots for (Y/n) the girl laughed from her seat on the bench where she was taking off her grips as she blew the boys a kiss.
They finished up the bar routines and from what they saw (Y/n) had the highest score at bars. “Looks like you’re gonna get that girlfriend Tsukki” Tadashi whispered to his best friend.
“Don’t jinx it Tadashi” Tsukishima hissed back cause the freckled boy to giggle.
When the team moved onto floor the group was amazed by the different dances and tumbling passes that the girls were doing.
“Think you could do that Bo?” Kuroo chuckled as one of (Y/n)‘s teammates performed two back handsprings and a back tuck perfectly.
“Psh easy” Bokuto chuckled waving off the tumbling pass. Then his jaw dropped when the girl performed her last tumbling pass, two front layouts landing in a split before finishing her routine. “Now that I can’t do” Bokuto winced at the thought of how much pain that tumbling would give him.
Oikawa’s gasp of sadness caught the group’s attention.
“Some girl got a 9.8 on the bars” Hinata and Yaichi said in unison.
The group all averted their attention to the team that was on bars. One of the girl was jumping in joy while her teammates congratulated her on her score. 9.82
“There goes (Y/n)’s first place on bars” Akaashi sighed.
“You guys are acting as if she got last place, she’s at least guaranteed second” Kenma said with a shrug.
“We’re trying to get TsukkiDude a girlfriend here Kenma” Bokuto said.
“I forgot about that deal. Anyways (Y/n)’s the only one that can perform to her very best and even if she does 110% some of the girls might out-do her” Kenma said.
“We just have to hope that she gets 1st place on floor since none of us have been keeping track on those scores” Tadashi said the rest of the group agreeing with him.
Her shoulder again. The injury really came back to bite. Her routine seemed indeed flawless to the boys at least who didn’t know an ounce about gymnastics to point out flaws in her routine. But Tsukki could tell when She saluted that she winced in pain from her shoulder. The girl as she walked off the floor looked back at him mouthing that she was fine. It wasn’t severe and Tsukki knew that but he couldn’t help worry.
“I think Tsukishima fell in love again” Akaashi teased as the boys laughed collectively. Tsukishima had a bright pink blush on his face the entire time he watched (Y/n) compete. He never realized how beautiful the sport was, that or he only found it beautiful because she was the one competing.
“I don’t blame him, I mean she looked hella fine out there” Kuroo said earning him another smack from Tsukishima.
“Oh (Y/n) strained her shoulder” Tadashi pointed out that you had out and ice pack on your shoulder to soothe the ache.
“They’re getting ready for the awards ceremony, I think we can go down and mingle for a bit” Yaichi pointed out that they we’re bringing out podiums and tables to set up on the floor.
The group all walked down to the main floor where there were booths selling merchandise from the schools or teams and even some for individual gymnasts.
“That girl from bars, apparently she’s super famous for gymnastics, competed in Japan’s team for the Olympics” Iwaizumi pointed to the small kiosk dedicated to the gymnast that got a 9.82 on bars.
“That’s where i recognized her from, Jin Hado I think her name is” Hinata said.
“Do you think there might be a booth for (N/n)?” Oikawa asked.
“I think that answers your question” Tsukishima gestures to the booth that was dedicated to their college but off to the side two girls were selling merchandise specifically for (Y/n) and one of the other girls on the team who was incredibly popular as well.
“Let’s go get some stuff to embarrass (Y/n) with later” Kuroo suggested. Hinata, Oikawa, Bokuto, and Tadashi all agreed immediately as the five boys laughed running to the booth.
“You guys go babysit them, I’m gonna go find our Little Mermaid” Tsukishima said.
“Our little mermaid or your little mermaid?” Kenma asked teasingly earning chuckles from Iwaizumi, Yaichi, and Akaashi. Tsukishima rolled his eyes choosing to ignore the gamer boy and left to find (Y/n).
He finally found the girl talking to what seemed to be a coach from another team, a pro team judging from the jacket the older woman was wearing. (Y/n) still had the ice pack on her shoulder but payed barely any attention as she talked to the coach. Tsukishima smirked at the sight of his crush getting chances to go pro and she hasn’t even started her second year of college yet. Granted they were almost done with first year but from the looks of it (Y/n) could make a pro career easily.
He stood to the side waiting for the girl to be done with her conversation patiently. He messed around on his phone texting his brother who had asked how to meet is going. He heard small footsteps walk up to him and without looking up from his phone he said, “You looked absolutely amazing out there, I’ll be surprised if you don’t make it onto the podium”
“Thanks stranger, good to know you were watching”
Tsukishima looked up from his phone seeing the Japanese Olympic gymnast the boys were talking about early. He didn’t even remember the name Hinata gave him less than 5 minutes ago.
“Sorry I thought you were someone else,” Tsukishima apologized.
“It’s fine, I just came over to introduce myself, I’m Haro Jin” She stuck her hand out.
“Tsukishima Kei” He ignored her hand. Jin awkwardly drew her hand back and shoved it into the pocket of her warmup suit.
“So what’s a tall handsome blondie like you doing all by yourself” Jin asked leaning against the wall infront of him. Tsukishima looked her up and down once.
She was taller than (Y/n) but not by a lot. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ballerina bun unlike (Y/n)’s mermaid colored hair that was in a Dino braid that turned into a pony tail, a hairstyle that Tsukishima was personally fond of on the girl. Jin was obviously wearing a light coat of makeup that hid her exhaustion if she even had any. (Y/n) on the other hand hand only worn eyeliner and the redness of her cheeks indicated that she was worn out from competing back to back events.
Tsukishima couldn’t help but compare the two girls. It was obvious that Jin found him attractive and wanted to strike up conversation with him and normally Tsukishima wouldn’t care less and at least amuse the girls he was talking to before rejecting them. But currently he just wanted to see (Y/n).
“I’m just waiting for someone” Tsukishima answered before turning his attention back to his phone.
Kei couldn’t finish his sentence before being hit by a tiny but strong force.
“Megane~Kun I thought you weren’t Gonna make it” (Y/n) said excitedly as she completely ignored Jin’s presence.
“You should know by now Pipsqueak that Mr. Park is very fond of you. When I told him I wanted to take extended lunch for you he immediately agreed” Kei couldn’t help the smile forming on his face as he looked down at the girl that seemed to be nearly half his height.
“Ugh I love that man” (Y/n) said her arms wrapping around Kei’s waist as she looked up at him.
“Good cause he wants you to drop by after this” Kei laughed tossing an arm around the girl. She giggles until it was interrupted by a fake cough. Both Kei and (Y/n) turned their attention back to Jin.
“(Y/n) it’s so good to see you again” Jin said with a sickeningly sweet tone.
“Right back at you Jin” (Y/n) copied her voice.
“So Tsukishima where we’re we” Jin says turning her attention back to the blonde.
“Sorry Uh- Haru but I gotta go, I came over to find my little mermaid and I found her” Kei said. Before Jin could argue Kei walked away taking the short gymnast with him.
“It’s Haro” Jin said through gritted teeth as she glared daggers at (Y/n) while the pair walked away.
“Your little mermaid?” (Y/n) teased.
Tsukkishima grabbed the girl’s hand giving it a light squeeze. “That girl, how do you know her?”
“The Olympics where I got a bronze medal, she was supposed to win but she got deducted because her hair came out if it’s ponytail during her routine causing her to fail one if her tumbling passes. If it wasn’t for that she would’ve beat me. But she somehow blames me for her failure”
Tsukishima scoffed at how ridiculous that sounded. When they reached their friends (Y/n) blushed in embarrassment. The boys were decked out in hoodies, scarfs, and hats with her name and competition number on them with the exception of Kuroo who had the hoodie of one of her teammates, a girl he had been seeing for a while now.
“Thank you Yaichi for not buying any of that” (Y/n) said gratefully with an embarrassed smile. Yaichi matched her smile before turning around and showing the gymnast the button that was added to Yaichi’s backpack. Kei chuckled at the girl’s expression. Tadashi reached out offering him the hat with (Y/n)’s name and number. The blonde took it and put it in for the purpose of embarrassing (Y/n) even more.
The awards ceremony was only the top four girls on each event and the top three teams of the night.
“Bars, in 4th place Suoh Maki, in 3rd place Sin Kyomi, in 2cd place (L/n) (Y/n), and in 1st place Haro Jin”
“Oops, I called her Haru by mistake” Tsukishima said with feigned guilt.
“She tried flirting with you?” Kuroo asked as the group cheered for their gymnast. Tsukishima nodded his head.
“Floor in 4th place Ayato L, in 3rd place Haro Jin, in 2cd place Sin Kiyomi, and in 1st place-”
The group held their breaths the announcer was being told something which caused the three girls to stop walking on their way to their spots in the podium. Jin seemed incredibly displeased with her placement on the podium while Kiyomi- (Y/n)’s team captain seemed satisfied.
“Ladies and gentlemen we seemed to have made a mistake. Floor in 4th place Haro Jin, in 3rd place Ayato L, in 2cd place (L/n) (Y/n), and in 1st place Sin Kiyomi”
(Y/n) shot up from her seat on the floor with her team tackling Kiyomi in a hug as the two girls went to the podium. They congratulated L on her third place winning and Jin but the 4th place winner didn’t seem too happy and chose to ignore them.
Tsukkishima sat back in his seat in slight disappointment. That was until Iwaizumi leaned forward in his seat.
“You know you technically never asked her to be your girlfriend, so what’s stopping you from asking her out, and what’s stopping her from saying yes” Iwaizumi said.
“A deal she initiated right after you two kissed and confessed to each other. Tsukki she only said that so she could have more time to think about it” Tadashi didn’t even look at his best friend.
“Tsukishima I think you should ask her out. (Y/n), Kiyomi, Kiyoko, Maki and I had a sleep over last night and the way (Y/n) talked about you made it seem like she was in love with you” Yaichi said causing the tall blonde to blush a deep red.
“Team Placement, in 3rd place Waseda University, in 2cd place Kyoto University, and in 1st place University of Tokyo”
“That sounds like 1st place to me it technically counts” Tadashi said smugly as the stadium cheered for their teams.
Everyone met up outside. Tokyo’s team stood by their bus along with the families of the girls for pictures.
“(Y/n) where’s your family?” Coach asked.
“I’m right here” Tadashi cheered picking the girl up from behind making her squeal. Kuroo walked over to Kiyomi congratulating her on her win. He also showed of his hoodie to her.
“Well we’re taking team pictures with the families so get in” Coach laughed setting up the camera. She was very familiar with Tadashi’s presence in the gym. Kiyomi kept Kuroo with her and her older sister for the picture as (Y/n) and Tadashi stood next to them.
“Wait” The Coach stopped right before she could press the timer. (Y/n) ran up to Kei grabbing his hand and dragging him back to the group.
“What why” Kei asked.
“I would like my boyfriend to be in this picture to” (Y/n) giggles as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. The blonde turned bright red causing the team to giggle.
“Okay ready” Coach said before pressing the timer and taking her spot at the other end of the team.
The girls spent a good half out taking pictures infront if their bus with loved ones and the winners.
“Okay okay everyone go home and get refreshed so we can celebrate at the gym, us adults are ordering food” Coach laughed as the girls celebrated.
“You’re coming right?” (Y/n) turned to face Kei with a hopeful look on her face.
“Uh- yeah sure I guess” Kei said a little flustered. In less than an hour (Y/n) claimed him as her boyfriend, showed him more affection than any girl ever has in his entire lifetime, and invited him to the team’s celebration. “But we have to stop by the museum. Mr. Park wants to see you and I gotta finish my shift”
“(N/n) let’s go” Maki and Kiyoko stood by the bus waiting for the last gymnast. Each gymnast was allowed a guest to ride with them back to the school from the meet so Kuroo was with Kiyomi while her sister went back home.
“I’m gonna go with Kei, I’ll see you guys tonight” (Y/n) called out.
The three young adults waiting by the bus all shared looks before chuckling.
“Okay be safe” the two girls said in unison
“Don’t forget to use protection” Kuroo laughed earning him a smack from Kiyomi, Maki, and Coach.
(Y/n) and Kei walked to his car and (Y/n) couldn’t help but tease him when he opened the passenger door for her. Kei rolled his eyes but chose not to make a snarky remark in return. Kei drove back to the museum in a comfortable silence. He was connected to the speaker allowing (Y/n) to work his playlist.
“What’s this?” (Y/n) asked clicking on his playlist that was named with mermaid emojis. Kei glanced at his phone to see what she was showing him.
“Playlist for you I’m not done with it though” Kei answered. (Y/n) looked up at him in pure adoration. Kei could see from his peripheral that her eyes were sparkling.
“It’s just a few songs I know you like some songs that remind me of you and a few of my favorites” Kei was slightly embarrassed from the pink tint on his cheeks. (Y/n) chose not to tease him but instead pressed shuffle. She reached over grabbing Kei’s free hand leaning back in her seat.
“Stop staring at me weirdo” Kei chuckled.
“I can’t help it, you’re so handsome” (Y/n) smiled shyly looking down at their intertwined hands.
“That actually reminds me, since when am I your boyfriend?”
“Ever since I saw that you came. The girls asked who I was waving to and I told them my boyfriend”
Kei bit his lip in attempt to suppress a smile but (Y/n) brought it out of him when she teased him for getting shy.
“You’re an idiot” He rolled his eyes at her.
“But I’m your idiot” (Y/n) said.
It was comfortable. An unlikely relationship between two people who were polar opposites. Kei used to be everything (Y/n) hated. Slowly over time they somehow found comfort in eachother and began to get along. Unexpectedly Kei found himself falling in love with her before she even knew she liked him. To think that what Kei once annoyed him about her now he found it to be his favorite things about her.
“I’m proud of you Little Mermaid”
“You may not have gotten 1st place on your events but you somehow got 1st place in my life”
“Kei, I love you but that’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say”
“That’s gonna be the last affectionate thing you hear me say if you keep sassing me, Brat”
Masterlist: Previous <- -> Next
FunFact: Kei’s coworkers (and boss) placed bets on if Kei and (Y/n) we’re gonna be back together when Kei came back to work. Mr. Park and a few others won the bet
Taglist: @charliefredb @anejuuuuoy @chaseyui @celamoon @winunk @freyafolkvangr @courtneypaigemartin @knmsapplepi @thathoneybee3 @kac-chowsballs @elianetsantana @crybabbicus @amarillyis @thatonearieschild @yeet-these-hoez @wytchia @still-fking-single @mirikusashes @theydy-madamonsieur @atria-avior @ew-i-hate-that-goaway921 @galagcica @faithfulferns @kiritokunuwu @that-chick212 @sarahbear8771 @reina-de-tay @lenlenbee @itgetsatadhazy @fearlesskz @theuntamedmulti @deepdownangel @closetsimp @acatstalkingyou @oppositesunchild
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the art of discordance
a captain rex x jedi fic during clone wars era :))
no warnings i think uh yeah hope you enjoy let me know ig...
CHAPTER ONE -
A new general. That’s what the rookies had heard, though Rex was reluctant to believe the Jedi Council had the guts to replace Skywalker. After a good few months, the captain had learnt of his general’s unique ‘disposition’, and getting a new general to step in was what he least expected.
That was until the ship landed just outside their camp and she walked out. Even from his position sitting further back on some crates, Rex could make out the figure, identifying her as one of the jedi knights, though which one escaping him. Perhaps the rumours were true.
He watched as she walked closer, hands placed purposefully and eyes wandering over the other two jedi in front of her. The commander crossed her arms defensively, though her master seemed unbothered by her arrival, excited even.
“master?” Ahsoka coughed
“oh snips!” Skywalker bleated with the same enthusiasm he had wagered throughout the interaction “this is Jaida Reyes”
“the one from your padwan stories?” Ahsoka said with smug conviction
“my reputation precedes me” her accent was crisp and calm, though her tone radiated a coolness that Ahsoka couldn’t help but feel distanced by “though i’d rather be known for my skills with a lightsaber than helping Akin steal from Obi-wan”
Ahsoka held back a snicker as Rex walked up to the three, absent minded as he double checked his comm.
“General Skywalker, we have the new coordinates” His attention tried hard to divert to the new face.
“ah thank you” Anakin turned to his friend “this is my captain, Rex”
Rex nodded at his introduction.
“i’m the new co-general, General Reyes” her face settled into the beginnings of a smile, but faultered and remained her neutral, placid gaze.
The young jedi watched with focused eyes as they walked the short distance towards the briefing tent. Already her presence seemed to spark rumours among the men, and she watched as the younger looking troopers sent her inspecting looks. It was to be expected, honestly she never wanted a big formal introduction, but she didn’t know that her arrival would breach the news so quickly.
When they arrived, the tent was half full. An open and decorated holo map was in the centre, with at least two clones at each marked entrance point.
“Boys” Skywalker called “we have a visitor”
She rolled her eyes slightly at the flamboyant gesture, but stepped forward anyway. “I’m General Reyes, apparently Skywalker wasn’t trusted enough to run his own battalion, so i got called in” Her hands rested behind her back, but a small grin encroached her face as the snipe made a few troopers smirk.
“excuse my fellow jedi, she’s never been good at taking second place” Anakin fired back, earning another set of grins.
Reyes crossed her arms as her smiling face resumed the same placcid one she’d kept previously. “i have heard nothing but good things, and i look forward to serving with you.”
The Captain moved forward from the side of the room and clicked to change the holo map, it made a small beep as he did.
“The 212th met a settlement of droids over this side of the ridge. Last report was that they were able to move forward at the threat subsided.”
“so what does that mean for us?” Jaida’s brows furrowed as Rex layed the plans out for her. Already her mind was scoping escape routes and vantage points, but she remained seemingly unbothered by the conflict describes. Rex couldn’t help but feel unmotivated by her apparent lack of interest.
“our initial plan was to take out the last forces left on the planet after the seppie defeat, but intelligence believed the 212th accidentally did it for us”
She scoffed “so we’re here for a clean up?”
“hope you brought something fun to do” Ahsoka scorned.
The efforts were limited within the first hour. Already the men were tired of the same scenery and nothing but expansive flats. The sun stood high in the sky, illuminating the landscape in a orange hue. It wasn’t hot nor cold, everything about the mission mediocre, something Reyes particularly hated. It wasn’t just her with an annoyance, she could sense the captain’s distrust. She understood it, only hoped it wouldn’t comprimise her efficiency.
As if nothing interesting was ever going to happen, a yell from a trooper a little further ahead broke the methodical thump of the machinery.
Soon followed was the sound of gun fire. Each shot was slow, until finally the enemy was visible.
“you did say you wanted action” Anakin quipped, earning an actual chuckle from her usual pursed lips. It almost caught Rex off guard.
It was unavoidable, the lack of cover meant the men were almost completely exposed, accept for the three jedi that stepped forward, sabers ignited.
Reyes was a new sight, though she didn’t look out of place on the battle field. Her lighsaber was different, instead of the usual one blade, hers had two, both green and glowing as she tactically spun it round and round, catching blasts as if it were sport. Even her fighting style seemed new, she fought with elegance and structure, each blow purposeful and strong.
Her focus was planted entirely on the enemy ahead, so much so that she failed to notice the trooper settling down beside her.
“karking droids, never seem to die” she muttered, deflecting a few more blasts.
A muffled laugh came from beside her and the familiar blue and white etched her vision.
“I’d get used to it general” a trooper grinned
Jaida turned and grimaced, an offering of acceptance. As she refocused her mind to the task at hand, a thought slipped through.
“trooper, get those three and come with me”
Her request caught the clone beside her off guard, but he complied none the least.
The five of them rounded behind the line of defence, all the way to their republic.
“uh, sir, what are we doing?” a soldier with a hand print on his chest asked, gingerly as the new, seemingly scary, general climbed onto the side.
“if i can prime the ignition gear and jinx the starter cable, I can force it into their ranks and it’ll, with any luck,” she popped her head up with a half devilish grin “turn them all into scrap parts”
It was the trooper with the cog on his helment that relaxed first “heh, they teach you that at the temple?” he quipped
“nope” she gestured for them to cover her as she popped open the side “they taught me it on florrum” she said with a smirk, before diving back into the mess of wires and sparks.
Jaida’s plan worked, and effectively too. After a very short battle, the men finished their sweep and prepared to bid the timeless campaign fairwell.
Once back on the ship, most clones settled down for the trip back to Coruscant, and Reyes followed suit, though only subtly checking that everyone was well and okay, before continuing her sweep on the ration packs. After she deemed her check satisfactory, she retreated to the command rooms. The door slid open and revealed Rex standing over a report, absent minded to say the least. His shoulders tensed momentarily as the door swooshed, and she noticed the sour taste that seemed to flood his tongue when he met her eyes.
Jaida cleared her throat, and planted fists against the table, propping herself up.
“i’m sorry, we lost men” Jaida spoke calmly, slightly softer than her usual tone.
“with all due respect sir, you don’t seem all that bothered.” Rex mentioned.
“captain” “it’s not something i’ve grown accustomed too yet” Jaida countered, though her argument didn’t cause Rex’s stance to loosen. She cleared her throat
“i’ve lost people before, and I know what it’s like to loose someone in battle, though i don’t know what it’s like to loose your brothers. i did not want this” her tone was instructive, but it softened all the same and her true compassion fell through.
Rex paused for a moment and met her eyes again “i shouldn’t have blamed you, my apologies, general”
“it’s uh, Rex, sir” he corrected. It was when he lifted his hands to the side of his helmet that Jaida realised she had never actually seen his face. It came off, and revealed a strong jaw and cheek bones, all toned perfectly set. His eyebrows arched above his eyes, a slightly different shade of golden brown than his brothers. Of course the main difference was his hair colour, short and stark blonde.
“Jaida” her response made Rex frown ”if i have to call you by your name you have to call me by mine. Jaida” she explained
“good” she smiled for the first time, and Rex liked it.
The night after an assignment was always filled with either anecdotes or silence, a relief or devastating. Jaida watched as the men loitered around crates of rations and equipment, all with distant smiles; tired.
She had previously been stuck at the medbay after the medics caught sight of her, a few gashes on her cheeks the real cause - nothing bacta wouldn’t heal, but she learnt quickly of their head medic, Kix, and his ability to scare even Jedi into looking after themselves. After making peace with the captain, a warmth had begun to spread about her.
Now, she stood against the cold duraplast walls of the Resolute, picking aimlessly at the scarce red dirt left on her hands.
“You okay Jay?” the question broke her mindless thought.
“yeah, i am” she looked up to her friend knowingly, Anakin grinning as he always did.
“Generals!” a trooper with geometric tattoos called out “come sit with us”
She turned her head sharply and gazed over the haphazard array of lounging clones
“I ought to check the ration packs” she tried to excuse.
“you should take one sir” Another clone encourage lazily “deserve it after that rescue”
She blinked for a second, unsure if it would make more sense to agree or deny. Before she said yes or no, Anakin had already collected her on his way to his own seat in the game.
Jaida sauntered over and handed each clone a bar before taking one herself, sitting down cross leggedly just as graceful as she did anything.
“sir, i don’t like it” she spoke between chews “name’s Jaida”
“well, Jaida, general’s told us a little about your career together, got any stories?”
“many” Jaida gave the first ghost of a smile any of them had seen from her yet, however small it may have been, and lent backwards against another log “Anakin ever told you about the time we climbed to the very top of the temple walls?”
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-Ｈｏｎｅｙ Ｌａｖｅｎｄｅｒ [牛乳] -
By @omenschan, cross posted on wattpad
Chapter I - Young & Stupid
!WARNING! This work contains, graphic dipictions of violence, foul language, underaged drinking, etc. I will put warnings before each chapter than any TW topics, or sensitive topics in general occur. Please proceed with caution. Otherwise...enjoy
The Arcana Masterlist (WIP)
Ask Box (Requests are Open!!)
“We’re all in the same game; just different levels. Dealing with the same hell; just different devils.”
Maybe it was the simple fact that you wanted nothing to do with your clan anymore. You practically begged your parents to let you go to school in America, and you knew fairly well that once you raised enough money you would go off and live your own life. But, after they asked you to come home, you foolishly travelled back to Hanamura.
“Damn, I really left America to come home to this?” You muttered.
Dressed in a white and red Kimono, you swore you could feel every individual hair on your chest being stuck inside the fabric because of how tight this thing was.
Fiddling with the cuffs of the Kimono, yet again, you felt your father’s gaze fall onto you.
“(Y/N), Stop messing with the cuffs. The fabric was expensive.” Your brother, Imari, hissed.
You merely scoffed, as he flashed you a look.
The group of four, your family, you corrected, (despite not having spoken to them for almost three years after you moved to America to go to college), were standing in front of the gates to a grand palace.
It was much larger than your own, then again, unlike your Clan, the Mamoru Clan, you were not as powerful as the Shimada’s.
The Shimada Clan dealt in lots of...illegal...activities, no wonder they had so much money and influence. Sure, your family did that as well, but not as often, and certainly not on such a large scale that the Shimada Clan did.
So, you wondered, what exactly were you and your family doing here?
You weren’t involved in a terf war, and your family had nothing to offer to the Clan.
Well, other than your brother, which would make sense as to why he was dressed like this.
That made you laugh almost.
Your brother, your overly-confident, self-absorbed brother, a Shimada.
You giggled as you walked up the steps, thinking of that particular situation.
Now that’d be a story to tell once this was over and you went home.
The doors creaking open snapped you from your thoughts.
Before you was a large open area, multiple buildings in its place. A large open building with a bell inside of it, the ground filled with small stones. The landscape of the palace was beautiful, you had to admit, it was the things that went on inside that made you feel slightly uneasy.
You were softly guided up more steps and to the front entrance of the palace. You noticed the people gathered in the palace’s front steps. They immediately noticed your mother, head of the clan, and parted for her. Scanning the crowd, you recognized a few people. Well renowned businessman and woman. A few members of your clan, and two heads of two other clans.
“Imari, why is everyone here?” You hissed. “Did somebody give birth to twins or somethin’?”
“Somethin’? God, you’ve been in America for far too long,” Imari scoffed, and you already bite back an insult. “Next you're going to say one of those things about...what was it...beans on a hill.”
“It’s just an expression, Imari. Calm down, jesus.”
Imari flashed you a look. “Watch your tongue, do you wish to embarrass us infront of all these people?”
You look around for a moment, and then shrug at him. Imari groaned, nearly facepalming in the process as you pranced up to your parents. You fell in line next to your father, hands behind your back, and a wide grin on your face. The grin fell as you noticed the man’s eyes on you. He looked you up and down.
“Ah, Imari-kun! I am honored to have you join us this evening.” The man said, gesturing to you.
Of course, you were here to see Imari do something, so he could brag about it later, and then your parents would lecture you about how you should try to be like him or something dumb like that. Your mother chuckled, as you crossed your arms and pouted.
“No no, Sojiro-San, this is my son, (Y/N).” She began. “But it's quite alright, the two are twins, so it is rather hard to recognize who is who.”
She put a hand on your shoulder.
“I apologize in advance for any...trouble...he causes. He’s been in America as a foriegn exchange student and his mannerisms are a bit...lacking.” She said, turned to meet your gaze. You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at her.
The man, Sojiro turned, and he smiled.
“Ah, this must be Imari-Kun, then.”
You noticed as Imari shook his hand. Imari smiled at Sojiro, and soon the two began to chat. You wanted to leave, maybe raid the tables of food, if there was any.
“I hope you win the competition, you will make a fine groom for my son.”
You paused, turning to Sojiro.
“Wait, groom?” You said, muttering it a bit too loud, as Sojiro turned to you, eyebrows raised.
“Yes, have your parents not informed you of why you are here?”
“Well..yes, but I thought that...the heir would marry a woman.” You said, turning your gaze to the floor.
“That is a traditional value, however, my son has told me that because of recent technological advancement, it would not matter if he were to be married to a man or a woman.” Sojiro says. “Which is why, as you can see, every clan was invited.”
You sat in your seat, glaring at Imari.
Imari had tried his best to ignore you.
However, his gaze caught yours soon enough.
“Since when were you gay?”
“I-You-!” Imari groaned. “I’m doing this for the sake of the clan.”
You raised an eyebrow, a look of disapproval on your face. “Have you even talked to this so-called guy you're supposed to marry?”
“I’m not entirely sure I will be marrying him anyways,” Imari began. “As tradition the eldest daughters -and sons now apparently- of each of the clans will present themselves as suitors to become-” A pause. “In this case, his bethroled. Each suitor will compete in the games for his hand in marriage.”
“Ooh!~ Sounds fun!” You said.
“You will not be competing.” Imari snaps.
“Oh please, I don’t want to marry some random guy. I’m only twenty..”
Imari flashed you a look. “If you were in my position, I would hope you would be thankful. Everybody thought that he would already be betrothed to another woman, but I suppose not.”
You scoffed. “You think he’s gonna run away? Like in the movies?”
“I doubt it. I hear that his loyalty matches his mother’s.” There’s a pause. “However, there is one thing that I don’t get.”
Imari then sighed.
“He wishes to have a competition. He is apparently choosing what all of the suitors will compete in, and whoever wins...will take his hand in marriage.”
You stare. “Huh, that’s odd.” You pause. “You think he’s doing that whole ‘if you can’t complete this task, you are not worthy of my love’ kind of thing?”
“Of course he is. He’s just like his mother, he views us as prey. It seemed fit he’d want to play with us a bit first.”
You can’t hide the grin from your face as Imari goes back to staring at the table. “Let’s pray to the gods that he doesn’t pick archery, they might have to lie and say I’m the eldest son!”
“Oh please, you wouldn’t last a day as a Shimada. You’d be killed on the spot.”
“Oh my god, how much longer do we have to wait for this man to choose-”
“(Y/N)! Hold your tongue.” Your father snapped. “We are guests within the Shimada palace, it would be wise to not speak ill of them.”
You leaned your head in your palms, playing with your fork on the table.
Your mother flashed you a look and almost told you to stop, but that this point there was no point.
You had noticed the lull in conversation, it was obvious people were getting impatient.
However, you watched as many people’s heads turned to the front of the room, and you looked up.
Sojiro had entered the small room.
Sojiro began to speak; “As all of you know, we have gathered here today for each of your eldest to compete in a competition for the hand of my son, Hanzo.”
Just as he said that, Sojiro turned to the hallway, from it emerged a boy, dressed in a white and blue Kimono. His hair in a Maru-mage hairstyle. The boy in the Kimono, stepped forward. It was obvious who he was. His stance, his hair, his Kimono, everything was perfect.
You hated it.
You were so thankful you weren’t the one competing. Your brother, however, you couldn’t read. He was always good at being unpredictable, something that always caught you off-guard.
The second person to step out, was a boy with bright green hair. He wore a suit, like his father, (or you assumed the green-haired boy’s father was Sojiro.) however, the top button was unbuttoned, his pants were held up by a dirty belt, and his tie was slung across his shoulders.
The boy in the Kimono seemed annoyed, while the green-haired boy just winked.
“My son has chosen Archery as the game. He says that it will not only show strength, but precision, and patience.”
You watched your brother stand up, as a maid walked over and handed him a slip of paper.
“You may each speak to your Clan Heads to discuss the best way for you to succeed, and good luck, to you all.”
Imari turned to you.
“Oh wow, he picked Archery, why am I not surprised by that?” You chuckled.
Imari grit his teeth. “You jinxed it. Didn’t you?”
“Why would I jinx you? Or any of this, that’s dumb, a waste of my time and power.” You huffed, crossing your arms and leaning back in the chair.
“You speak of your power like you have any.”
You hissed through your teeth. Biting your tongue, it was obvious that your brother was instigating you, he always did this. He was trying to make a fool out of you.
Imari shook his head. “Father, Mother, and I are going to speak in private, watch this card, and do not trust anybody.”
You raised an eyebrow. You’d never admit it out loud, but you missed this. The whole kitsune spirit thing, the constantly being on the lookout, the thrill of assasination attempts, and being able to crush these bold ‘assassins’ under your foot. As much as you were willing to admit, you also hated it. Unlike most people in your family, each person was guarded by a kitsune spirit, like the other clans in Japan. Your brother had gained healing abilities, hence why everyone was happy and respected him. Your mother could shapeshift, your father had married into the clan, thus not having any powers, but your father actively communicated with spirits anyways.
You, were ordinary. You didn’t have powers, didn’t even show any signs of it as a child, like your brother and ancestors did. You were convinced you didn’t have a kitsune spirit to guide you. So why bother getting involved in anything at all? You were reckless, free spirits, you made sure of it. Never interacted with anyone unless you needed to. So you leaned back in your chair, and wondered...why exactly am I here?
You turned to the small card on the table, the insignia of the Shimada clan, plastered on the card in red wax.
It was strange, just a card with wax on it. Even the insignia on the wax screamed of power. You wondered what it was like to be able to instill that much fearful respect into generations of people.
You get up from your seat, brushing the fabric of your Kimono off, and beginning to walk towards the buffet again.
The food, right. That’s what you came here for. You were tired of burgers and hotdogs all the time anyways.
There’s laughter behind you. You don’t turn your head, but you can see a group of young adults standing there, you see them waving cards around. Shaking your head, you grab a shrimp and stuff it into your mouth, before you look at the card again.
“Well, look who came out of their hole.” You pause, turning to see a brunette woman that clearly towers above you.
You cross your arms. “What do you want? Sorry, but I don’t have any lunch money for you, or your goons.”
The brunette scoffs. “Please, we get plenty from the other districts.”
You narrow your gaze. The Hashimoto clan were greedy, despite them having close relations to the Shimada clan, in secret, most clans, including your own, despised them. Normally, you’d stay out of clan business, but their actions made your blood boil. They wanted nothing more than to have full control over the Shimada’s territory, so it was no surprise that the heir was here. You never liked her. She used to pick on your brother as a child.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” She began. “You’ve grown.”
“Miss me with that bs, Sanda.” You snap. “What do you want?”
Sanda grins at you.
“I wanted to wish you good luck.” Sanda says. “The others and I know we have no chance in this competition, with your archery skills that is.”
She snickers, and you only raise an eyebrow.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, obviously Imari. You and I both know that you’re going to lose. From what I’ve heard its your brother who’s the archer, not you.”
“Wait, what…? I’m not-”
You see the room go silent, as Sojiro goes up to speak again. Before you know it, Sandra grabs your arm, pulling you into the group of heirs.
“Hey-! Wait a second-”
Before you know it, you’re practically shoved ahead of the group, and you scan the crowd, eyes wide.
You don’t even see your family. You mentally curse yourself as your led to what you believe is an archery range. Why didn’t you know this would happen? Your family was tired of you, they couldn’t use you as a puppet. No. You were too smart for that. So they double crossed you. If you won this tournament, they’d finally have you under control. You would finally be giving them your strings. You would finally be the son they wanted you to be. A lifeless, loveless son.
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Can we get a Clace babysitting Max and trying to get him to sleep but he’s in that get-out-of-bed-and-walk-outside-toddler-phase story
Max vs Sleep
It was 9 pm, Max's bed time, Clary and Jace offered to babysit Max while Alec and Magnus got some alone time, and besides Jace loves kids, and if it came to the worst of it Clary would just show him her hair, he always loves her hair.
They put him down 20 minutes ago and were hoping he would stay in bed this time, he had already gotten up 6 times and each time they read him 6 stories and Jace sang a song in french to him 6 times as well, they were tired.
"Do you think he went he is asleep now?" Clary whispered towards Jace
"Idk but don't jinx it," he whispered back
"You only know that phrase cause I taught you it," she whispered back to him with some sass
"Yeh and I am using it on you," he said.
At was at that moment that Max ran out of his room and jumped on Jace, again
"blueberry you gotta go to bed at some point," Jace said in the gentle voice he had for her and kids
"Don wanna," said Max
"why not?" Asked Jace
"cause uncle Jace and aunt Clary are here I excited," he said to Jace
"Uncle Jace wants blueberry to sleep so that he can run around and cause chaos again tomorrow," Jace told him and patted him on the head
"Will you sing to me again and read me another book? I love it when you do all the noises," Max said to Jace
And Clary's heart was a puddle, he is too precious
"Alright, let's go," Jace said as he picked him up and headed towards the room, Clary followed after them.
Jace tucked him in and got out his favorite book and read it too him, he also sang him a song in french that always relaxed everyone who heard it and made you feel safe, seeing as how Jace is half french she supposed it fit.
Max and Jace talked fir a bit as well and Clary joined in, Max was telling them how he wants a brother and a sister, but also how he wants a cousin and how Clary and Jace should have a baby, if only he knew how all that worked Clary thought to herself.
But Jace was always so gentle and sweet with kids and with Max he took such extra care, when Max was still a baby baby, Jace was terrified to hurt him and was always so nervous, you couldn't tell unless you knew him well but it was there, and he is still gentle and careful with Max and would die for him if he needed to, Clary hopes that it never comes to it and it's more just stating how much he loves him, but yeh.
Max was such a light in their small family, lot of people would call them a friend group or a friend gang, but they were family, after everything they are all so close and their family was only growing.
After a long conversation with Max and many books and songs he finally fell asleep on Jace, Jace carefully with his gentle and graceful movements put him into his bed, tucked him in again and kissed him on the head.
"Well that was hard but he is finally asleep," Clary said. "I love him, but he can be a handful."
"Yeh, he can be, but it's worth it, kids are energetic little things," he said
"Probably why they like you so much," she said playfully
"Ah, so I am a little ball of energy now," he said with that smirk of his
"You do seem to have a lot of it," she said
He gave her that long look with playfulness and love
"So what do you wanna do now that Max is asleep?" He asked her
"You could read this new book I got to me," she said and got her bag, she took a book out called "The Hunger Games"
"okay, what's it about?" He asked
"You'll have to read and find out my hon," she said to him
"Alright, let's read it," he said
By the end of it he had read the entire book to her and said they needed the next one, he also said "Katniss is a badass and Peeta needs a break." And she laughed
He then asked if he could kiss her and she said yes, after that they snuggled together on the coach, Magnus and Alec wouldn't be back till morning but they said they could sleep in their guest room.
Then they heard Max crying and Jace went to check on him, Clary kinda felt useless but Jace and Max had a special bond, he loves Jace and she understands the feeling, he is amazing and if you look a little closer at him you'll see an amazing person, her person.
Jace was hugging Max telling him it was just a dream and that nothing can hurt him, and if it tried Uncle Jace will stab it, he sniffled into Jace's shoulder and said "I love you, Uncle Jace "
"I love you too, Max," Jace said
And he wiped Max's tears away and said he stay here till he fell asleep and Clary walked over and gave Max and hug and kiss
"I love you, blueberry, me and Uncle Jace will stay here," she told her nephew
"Can you sleep in my room?" He asked
They both looked at each other and had the same look, the look of 'how do I say no' and so they did, they slept on his floor, they piled pillows and blankets and he jumped down onto it, they basically made a big bed on the floor, Max and Jace were both asleep after several minutes, apparently Jace was exhausted too, and she layed her head down as well and let sleep take her, there'll be some explaining in the morning tho.
Hopefully you enjoy this anon
Tagging@khaleesiofalicante cause uncle Jace
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By the Water Fountain
Pairing: Draco x Harry
Word count: 4.6k
Rating: T, mild language
Warnings: mention of excess drinking
Prompt/Summary: from @lxncelot‘s 100 dialogue prompts:
8- “Keep talking, I want to fall asleep to your voice.”
43- “Why didn’t you tell me?”
68- “But I’ve never told you that before.”
This is my first time posting a oneshot on this blog; I hope you all enjoy! <3
Harry honestly didn’t drink very often.
He would occasionally have a beer with friends at dinner or a glass of firewhisky on special occasions. He was typically the designated sober friend when Seamus and Ron wanted to get drunk and sing karaoke in muggle bars, ensuring that they made it safely to their homes at the end of the night. He didn’t mind; he loved seeing his friends happy.
But after the day Harry had, he welcomed the blurred around the edges effect that crept into his vision as he downed his 4th drink at a local pub, and it was all because of Draco Bloody Malfoy.
Harry and Draco’s paths began to cross quite frequently, Harry working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Draco being the healer to patch up his wounds when his Gryffindor heart outweighed his rational brain and got him into dangerous situations. The fifth time Harry ended up at St. Mungo’s, Draco simply shook his head and muttered, “We have got to stop meeting like this, Potter.”
After getting over the initial awkwardness of ‘used to be enemies but are now grown adults with bigger issues’, they started to form an almost friendship. They both frequented a small, family owned Middle Eastern restaurant on their lunch breaks that was nearby the hospital, and after running into each other one two many times, decided to start sitting and eating together. “Because there’s no need to give the staff double the work, Potter.” Draco had scoffed when Harry had raised an eyebrow at his suggested arrangement. But he never complained.
Harry sat on the stiff, wooden barstool, stirring his drink mindlessly and staring at the glistening ice cubes, possibly hoping they had advice for him, when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
“This seat taken?” Ron Weasley sat down next to Harry and gestured to the bartender. “Can I get a pint of whatever you have on draft?” He turned to look Harry up and down. “You look like hell.”
Harry raised his glass a bit and mutter “Cheers, mate.”
Ron snorted. “Who is he and what’s he done to make the great Harry Potter run away to a bar to get plastered alone?”
When Harry first “came out” to his friends, Ron was the first to accept it. He had a conversation with all of their male friends and told them if they ever said anything cross to Harry about it, he’d hex their bollocks off. He was so grateful for Ron’s unwavering loyalty.
“How do you know it’s a bloke that’s got me gutted?” Harry replied, still staring down at his drink.
“Please.” Ron scoffed. “You’ve been staring at that drink like it might lay you on a couch and start giving you relationship advice.” He took a swig of his drink and added “Plus I’ve known you since you were eleven, mate. You’re not as mysterious and hard to read as you think.”
That made Harry laugh and then groan. He put his head in his hands. “Ron. I think that I might fancy someone.”
Ron looked startled, but replied, “Harry that’s great! Anyone I know?”
Harry moaned into his hands and hesitated but finally answered. “I think...I think I fancy Draco Malfoy.”
Harry hadn’t come to this realization quickly. Obviously he knew he was into blokes, but he never really considered anyone he was already acquainted with as an option. His small dating pool consisted of first dates with internet matches and set ups with friends of friends whose only similarity to Harry was their mutual queerness.
But Draco was...well, Draco. He would insult and tease you to your wits end, but was fiercely protective of the people he loved being their backs. He was outwardly cocky and arrogant, but when Draco sat next to Harry’s bed at St. Mungo’s chatting with him hours after his shift ended, he would confide in Harry all the ways he was immensely unsure of himself. He confessed how frightened he was that someday he wouldn’t be allowed to continue his work because the wrong person wouldn’t want an “Ex Death Eater” saving their life. He admitted that he had been utterly terrified during the war; that he wandered out early on, but had no idea how to get out without risking his and his parents’ lives. He even thanked Harry for the time he saved him in the room of requirement.
“I never showed you even an ounce of kindness, yet you risked your life just to save me. I didn’t know anyone could be that selfless.”
Even after all that, Harry still hadn’t put a name to what he was feeling for Draco. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was until that morning; the morning that caused him to end up in the pub in the first place.
Harry met Draco for lunch at their usual spot. They were talking about the recent Quidditch match that they had both read about in the Daily Prophet.
“I don’t know why the Harpies don’t just go ahead and make Ginevra the starting seeker. She’s not doing any good on the bench, and she can fly circles around that Malcolm chap.” He sipped his coffee and continued, “I bet she could even give you a run for your money.”
Harry laughed and took a bite of his falafel. “She could definitely kick my arse at this stage in my life. I haven’t been on a broomstick since the last time I tried to give Rose Weasley a flying lesson, and I think even she was better than me by the end of the day.” Draco flashed an easy smile at him.
They paid for their food and began to walk towards the hospital. There had been a misfired jinx at Harry’s work, resulting in all of the plumbing pouring out fruit pastilles instead of water. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to him, but he was glad to have the rest of the day off regardless.
They walked in comfortable silence for a bit. The restaurant hadn’t been busy, so Draco had a few minutes to spare before he needed to return to his shift. They decided to take a seat on the edge of an old fountain in the middle of the square.
Draco looked at the water and laughed light heartedly. “Muggles are so odd. Why would anyone throw money into the water just to watch it sink? Do they know that it’s useless down there?”
Harry couldn’t help but smile. “It’s a superstitious tradition. You throw the money in and make a wish, and it’s supposed to come true. I’m not really sure why, though. Maybe because you made some odd kind of offering to the god of water fountains.” Draco pursed his lips and considered this.
“Here.” Harry said and reached into his pocket and pulled out two sickles. He handed one to Draco and closed his eyes. “I wish that the pipes get filled with candy at work more often so I can spend more time with my dear friend Draco.” He threw the coin over his shoulder, and it
splashed into the water. Draco smiled. He stared at the coin in his hand for a long moment, and just as Harry was about to open his mouth and say something, he closed his eyes and closed his hand around the coin.
“I wish that the world will someday see me for the good things I do in the present and will do in the future rather than the bad things I did in my past.” He tossed the coin over his shoulder and opened his eyes.
Harry stared into the grey eyes he had lately been becoming more and more familiar with. There was a hint of sadness there, but also a look of steadfast finality. He knew that Draco would continue to try and pay for his mistakes time and time again, whether through healing those who needed him or reinventing himself into the kindhearted, compassionate individual he was today. A gust of wind suddenly blew his platinum blonde hair into his face, and without thinking, Harry reached up and gently pushed it out of the way, revealing his grey eyes once again. Draco stiffened, and Harry dropped his hand and looked away. After a too long pause, Draco cleared his throat.
“I’ll- I better go inside, then.” He stood and brushed off the back of his trousers. Harry, carefully avoiding his eyes, nodded and stood as well. They both murmured awkward goodbyes and went their separate ways.
Harry rested his elbows on the sticky bar top and groaned again. He fancied Draco Malfoy, and now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover.
Ron spluttered a bit, then finally said, “Well, it could be worse. At least he’s pretty attractive.”
Harry shifted his gaze towards his friend, frowning. “Yes I’m quite aware of that, thanks.” He sighed. “I think I just need to have a few more drinks about it.”
Ron smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder. Suddenly, his phone chimed, causing Ron to jump. He was still having trouble getting used to muggle technology.
He frowned. “Uh oh. ‘Mione says baby Hugo’s got a stomach bug. I better get home and relieve her for a bit.” He stood up and said pointedly to Harry, “It’s not the end of the world, mate. If you think it’ll work, ask him out. If you don’t-“ he shrugged “I guess you’re on the right track.” He gestured towards Harry’s empty glass. “Listen, don’t try and apparate in your condition. Get a cab or something, and call me if you need anything.” Harry grunted a response, not knowing if he could say anything coherent in his state. Ron patted his shoulder again, then turned and headed out the door.
Harry sighed, then asked the bartender for another drink.
After a while, the crowd in the pub began to dwindle down, and Harry realized he should probably make the trek home. He stood up and saw stars and knew Ron was right; he definitely could not apparate like this, unless he wanted half of him to end up in the Pacific Ocean. But there was one problem- Harry didn’t have any muggle money for a cab, and he was too drunk to remember what to do in this situation. He remembered Ron’s offer and picked up his phone and went to his recent calls. He was about to choose Ron’s contact when he saw another name.
‘Malfoy’ with a green snake emoji.
Harry giggled and grinned, and thought ‘what the hell?’ He stepped outside and clicked the call button.
It rang one and a half times, and a gravelly voice grumbled, “Potter? What the hell are you doing, do you know what time it is?”
Harry snorted and replied, “Yes Draco, I do know how to read.” He giggled. “Just because I’m not in Ravenclaw doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
There was a short pause, and Draco remarked, “Are you drunk?”
“Hmm”, Harry mused happily, and said, “Extremely.”
Draco let out an exasperated sigh, and there was a shuffle of movement on the other line. “Where are you?” He demanded.
Harry looked and his vision swam. “Um. London?” He heard Draco inhale and start to say something, but quickly continued. “I’m just kidding, hah. There’s a street sign, but I don’t know what it says. Maybe I can’t read...” he trailed off. Then he spotted a familiar sculpture in front of a small park, and he perked up. “Oh! I see my statue!” He narrowed his eyes at the golden replica of him that had been placed there not too long ago. “It’s really embarrassing that they put that here. And I don’t think I’m actually that tall.”
Draco sighed again, and said, “Potter. I’ll be there in approximately 4 seconds. Please try not to die.” The line went dead, and Harry heard the *crack* of someone apparating next to him.
Put together, ready for the day Draco was already a sight to see; his pure blood upbringing instilled a need to constantly look flawless, no wrinkles or hairs out of place. He had immaculate posture, and one could tell by merely looking at him that he was someone important. But rumpled, hair perfectly messy, fresh out of bed blinking sleep from his eyes Draco? Well.
He was so beautiful Harry could cry.
“Hi.” Harry grinned drunkenly at him. Draco pursed his lips, looking equally amused and annoyed at the same time.
He murmured a simple, “Hello.”
Harry stared at his face, so gorgeously illuminated in the moonlight, sharp edges softened by the glow. Even in his drunken state, he wondered how he missed this; how he hadn’t recognized the burning need to stroke his ivory skin, run his fingers over his sharp nose, his lips...
Harry shook his head and sighed. “I’m drunk.”
Draco’s mouth turned up slightly at the corner, and he simply replied, “Quite.” He turned to look around. “We can side along apparate as long as you don’t try to do it yourself. Otherwise we’ll both end up splinched between here and Merlin knows where.” Draco put one arm around Harry’s waist and the other firmly on his bicep so they were chest to chest, while Harry tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.
Draco looked at him softly, expression unreadable, and asked, “Are you ready?” Harry swallowed and nodded, trying to ignore how close their faces were. Harry closed his eyes and hoped he didn’t vomit as the familiar feeling pulled at his stomach and the air swirled around him.
Just as quickly as it had started, everything suddenly stilled. “Harry.” Draco whispered. Harry opened his eyes to see Draco staring at him intently, with the same soft and confusing look as earlier. “Come on, I’ll help you up the stairs.”
Harry vaguely noticed that he didn’t quite recognize where they were, but he was focusing most of his attention on breathing steadily. He was extremely aware that Draco kept a firm hand on Harry’s waist as they walked up the stairs to a quaint little townhouse. Draco unlocked the door with the key and quietly let Harry inside.
At this point, Harry could feel his eyes starting to close on their own and his legs start to grow weak from exhaustion. Luckily, Draco led Harry to a bedroom with a beautiful wooden four poster bed. He sat down on the edge and rubbed his temples while Draco rummaged through a dresser. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of sleep pants and handed them to Harry.
“I’ll run and get you a glass of water.” He patted the top of Harry’s head before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. Harry quickly changed out of his stiff work clothes into the more comfortable ones Draco had leant him. He ran a hand through his unruly curls and moved to lay down. Draco came back with a glass of water and a small vial.
“Take this in the morning. It’ll help a bit.” Draco smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed and shook his head. “I never thought I’d have to be the one to rescue Harry Potter from a drunken escapade.”
Harry snorted sleepily. “I’m usually not one to drown my sorrows, but there’s a first time for everything.”
Draco pressed his mouth into a hard line and retorted, “Who’s the lucky girl that got to break The Chosen One’s heart?”
Harry just stared at him confused for a moment, before blurting out, “I’m gay.” Draco raised an eyebrow, and he continued, “Like, really really gay.”
Draco once again got that unreadable expression on his face, but his shoulders relaxed a little bit. “Well, I hope whoever had you ‘drowning your sorrows’, as you so eloquently put it, is worth it.” He started to stand up, but Harry clumsily grabbed for his hand.
“Wait no.” He frowned. “Keep talking, I want to fall asleep to the sound of your voice.” Draco’s face reddened (and Harry was way too drunk to consider what that meant), but nodded and sat back down.
“What would you like me to talk about, then?” Harry closed his eyes and relaxed. “Tell me more about your wish. At the fountain.”
He heard Draco’s breathing, not slow and even, but not panting either. Harry was vaguely aware that he was still clutching Draco’s hand. “I know that there’s no excuse for my actions. I’m well aware that I hurt more people than I can even begin to understand,” he hesitated, “but I hope someday I’ll be remembered as someone who eventually started to help rather than hurt.”
Harry wanted to keep listening, wanted Draco to talk to him until his voice gave out, but exhaustion was slowly taking over. He softly squeezed Draco’s hand and murmured, “I’ll always know that. I’ll remember.”
As Harry drifted off to sleep, Draco whispered, “Thank you, Harry.”
Harry woke up the next morning feeling as though he had been repeatedly run over by the knight bus. He groaned and sat up. With a start, he realized he was not in his bedroom. He looked around the light grey room as the events of the night before came flooding back to him. “Oh Merlin.” He moaned and put his head in his hands.
“No, sorry, just me.” Draco smiled as he walked through the door. He set a mug of steaming tea next to Harry and said, “Three sugars and a pinch of cinnamon.” Harry looked up at him, squinting a bit as his eyes adjusted to the light.
“You know how I like my tea.” He stated blatantly. “But I’ve never told you that before.” Draco looked away, embarrassed.
“I’ve eaten lunch with you almost every day for the past four months, Potter. It’s an insult to my intelligence that you think I’m that unobservant.” There was no malice in his voice, only light hearted teasing. He looked at the bedside table and handed Harry his glasses and the vial he placed there the night before. “This won’t cure a hangover, but it’ll make it a hell of a lot more bearable.”
Harry mumbled a thanks and slid his glasses onto his face. He downed the potion in one gulp and grimaced. Draco laughed at whatever face Harry was making. He grumbled, “Remind me never to go near alcohol again.”
“Duly noted.” Draco said with another grin. “Come one them, I’ll make breakfast.”
Harry walked into the living room and noticed the blanket and pillow laid on the couch. “You slept on the sofa?” Harry asked.
Draco shrugged. “My bed was a bit occupied for the night.”
“I would have shared.” Harry replied without thinking. Draco looked away and busied himself in the kitchen.
What on Earth was wrong with him, Harry wondered idly. Draco apparently had the uncanny ability to make Harry say whatever was on his mind, both drunk and hungover it seemed. Draco started to hum to himself while he buttered bread, and Harry walked over and sat himself on the counter and allowed himself to really stare.
Draco was in the same rumpled shirt and sleep pants he had been wearing when he rescued Harry from the streets of London the night before. His hair was a bit flattened in the back from his pillow, and he had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Harry let himself daydream about
getting to witness this every morning; waking up to Draco, looking like a slightly disheveled Adonis, making Harry breakfast. His heart yearned for the domesticity of it all.
He didn’t realize he’d been caught staring until he looked up and his eyes met Draco’s. His cheeks warmed and he but his lip, embarrassed, but didn’t look away. He tapped his fingers on the counter anxiously. Draco stared at him for a moment longer then looked away, continuing his cooking. “Are cheese toasties alright? I always like a bit of comfort food when I’m hungover.” Draco smiled at him, a small but still dazzling smile.
“You don’t have to do that for me, I’m fine with anything, really.” He looked down at his fingers still tapping the counter.
Suddenly Draco’s hand covered his, halting his anxious tapping. “A bit restless, are we?” he teased softly. Harry looked up, about to respond, and realized Draco’s face was mere inches away from his own. He wasn’t sure if it was the leftover alcohol in his system or if it was his stupid, reckless Gryffindor heart, but something in him made him suddenly close the distance between them to kiss him.
As soon as he did it, he regretted it and pulled away. He leaped down from the counter and stumbled away towards the living room.
“I’m- er, sorry, I’ll just...” he stuttered. “I’m going to go.”
Draco reached an arm out to him. “Harry, wait-“
“Thank you for, um, all this. I-“, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “See you later.”
He quickly disapparated, leaving Draco standing in the kitchen looking confused, his arm still extended towards Harry.
Harry hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch since he had arrived in his flat 3 hours earlier. He laid on his back with his arm flung over his eyes, his head still pounding from the hangover and his mortifying actions in Draco’s kitchen. His heart sank every time he thought about it. The
truth was, even before Harry’s discovery of his more than friendly feelings towards Draco, he’d cherished their relationship. Ron and Hermione were great friends, but they were everything to each other and often were lost in their own bubble, which was something Harry couldn’t and didn’t want to compete with. His relationship with Draco was something Harry had all to himself. It was effortless and easy, and he found himself looking forward to any time they spent together. He knew he’d ruined everything, and he was already grieving the loss of their friendship.
There was a soft knock on his door. He groaned. A local football team had been going door to door selling magazines to raise money for some kind of tournament for the past week. He got up and slowly walked to the door. As he opened it he said, “Look guys, I already bought a subscription last week, I’m really not interested in-“. He looked up.
Draco stood in the doorway with a tentative smile plastered on his face. He held up a brown paper sack and said, “You left without your breakfast.” Harry blinked at him, not processing what was going on. “Er-“, Draco rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, “can I come in?”
Harry blinked and nodded, stepping out of the way. Draco walked to the sofa and sat down. He looked back at Harry, who was still standing by the doorway looking flabbergasted, and gestured towards the empty seat next to him. Harry swallowed and slowly walked to the couch, sitting as far away from Draco as the tiny love seat allowed.
They were both silent for a moment. Harry started to tap his fingers anxiously on the cushions, but he remembered what had happened the last time he had done that near Draco and decided to put his hands in his lap instead.
Draco finally broke the silence by saying, “Do you remember Blaise Zabini?”
Harry pursed his lips at the odd question but answered, “Of course. He works over at Gringotts now, right?”
Draco nodded and continued, “He and I had a sort of fling in our fifth year. Very casual, very secret, but still very real.”
Harry stared at him blankly until realization dawned on him. “So...you’re saying that you’re-“.
“‘Like, really really gay’ as you so eloquently put it last night.” Draco smirked at him, and Harry gave him a tentative smile in return. Draco nonchalantly slid his knee closer to Harry’s and looked at him until he finally met his eyes.
“And”, he began, ”I think that I’d like to give you a proper kiss, if that’s alright with you.”
Harry swallowed loudly but managed to say, “I’d like that very much.” Draco smiled and slowly raised his hand to stroke Harry’s cheek. He moved towards him painfully slow, and Harry closed
his eyes and exhaled, parting his lips in a slight ‘o’ shape. Draco closed the last few inches between them and pressed their lips together.
Draco’s lips were soft and warm as they moved slowly against his own. Harry slid a bit closer and placed one hand on Draco’s knee and the other at the nape of his neck, twisting his fingers in his hair and deepening their kiss. Draco slowly slid his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip and let out a soft moan. Harry, in a moment of blind confidence moved his hands to Draco’s thighs and pulled him onto his lap, never breaking their kiss. He felt Draco skim his teeth along Harry’s lip as Harry slid his hands underneath Draco’s shirt, resting on his hips and gently tracing circles on his bare skin. Draco moved his hands into Harry’s hair and tugged gently, making him gasp and accidentally breaking their lips’ embrace. Draco pressed their foreheads together, eyes still closed and trying to catch their breath. Harry opened his eyes and silently traced his fingers across Draco’s facial features like he had longed to do last night. Draco leaned into Harry’s palm, still straddling him with his hands tangled in Harry’s ebony hair.
Harry was the one to eventually break their silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Draco quirked up an eyebrow. “You mean why didn’t I tell you that I’m gay, or why didn’t I tell you that I’ve wanted to snog the hell out of you since I was fifteen? Either way, it’s not something that just easily comes up in conversation, Potter.” He rolled his eyes but stroked his thumb against Harry’s face.
“Well you could’ve told me either way. I-“, Harry stopped. “Wait. Did you say fifteen?”
Draco but his lip. “I was a prat, I know. But I didn’t know how else to cope with falling for my sworn enemy. Very un-Slytherin of me.” Draco shifted so he was now sitting next to Harry with his legs stretched out across his lap. He held Harry’s hand in both of his and gently stroked his long fingers. “How long have-“, Draco stumbled, “Er-, when did you, um, realize?”
Harry laughed quietly. “Well I’ve known I was gay since I was 17. But I only discovered my feelings for you-“, Harry put his hand under Draco’s chin and pulled his face up to look at him, “less than 24 hours ago.” Draco’s face was so comical he couldn’t help but laugh. “I knew I felt something for you; a tug in my stomach perhaps. But I only put a name to it yesterday. You know, drowning my sorrows and that whole bit.” Harry paused, watching Draco’s face, then continued, “And I think you are, by the way.”
Draco looked at him questioningly. “Are what?”
Harry smiled a crooked smile at him and replied, “You said you hoped whoever I was drinking about was worth it.” He pushed Draco’s hair out of his eyes like he had only yesterday at the fountain. “And I definitely think you are.”
Draco sighed. “Bloody Gryffindor’s. Ridiculous romantics, the lot of you.” But he beamed at him and pulled Harry in to kiss him again before saying, “Harry Potter, you have the most brilliant soul I have ever had the privilege of encountering.”
Harry grinned and pushed him down on his back into the sofa and moved to hover over him. “Now who’s the romantic?” Harry stared into those granite grey eyes and smiled before kissing him once again.
If you made it this far, thank you so so much for reading my fic! Please feel free to reply or message me with what you thought, any comments of suggestions for my writing, etc.! <3
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@whattheelizabeth asked for the juniors baking to help me with my writer’s block <3
it’s amazing what baking can do
Cloud Recesses always smells like fresh grass and the earth after a light rain, a part of the mountains in an intrinsic sort of way that seeps into Sizhui’s bones until he, too, feels steady in the bedrock. It’s comforting, familiar. An unshakable truth.
“Why does it smell like something died in here?”
It’s Zizhen’s question but Sizhui echoes the sentiment– why does it smell so foul in the kitchens?
“It’s the fish,” Jingyi explains, scowling from where he’s dangling half out the window as if in a desperate bid for fresh, breathable air. Sizhui can relate, to be fair.
“The fish?” He asks when it’s clear that neither Jingyi nor Jin Ling will elaborate further without prompting.
Jin Ling glowers. Or, well, he tries to. His face is half-covered by his sleeve while his other hand holds a soggy paper bag as far away from himself as possible. If gambling weren’t forbidden, Sizhui would bet that’s the unexplained fish. “I bought it in the market.”
“That’s nice,” Zizhen blinks, “but why?”
“We were cooking!”
“Yeah,” Jingyi grumbles from the window, “cupcakes not a three-course meal!”
“Well, I didn’t know that, did I! No one tells me shit here!”
“Did you check the group chat?” Sizhui asks, frowning helplessly at the whole thing, “I’m pretty sure we agreed on the cupcakes there.”
“Also, why would we cook a fish to a bake sale?” Zizhen finally detaches from the doorway to make a beeline for Jin Ling’s rotting fish. His nose scrunches up, “and why would you buy that?”
“I didn’t know it was bad, it wasn’t smelling like that when I bought it,” Jin Ling turns his glare to the paper bag, giving it a sad little wiggle. It squelches wetly. “Ugh, can we just throw it down the garbage disposal or something?”
Resigning himself to losing his sense of smell, Sizhui bravely sets follows Zizhen into the kitchen. “No, that would probably clog the sink. Just throw it in the trash.”
“And label it a biohazard waste,” says Jingyi, jumping down, sneakers lighting up cheerfully.
“Don’t be mean,” Zizhen reaches across the table to poke Jingyi’s shoulder, “it was his first time in a market,” turning back to Jin Ling, he pats his head with the wise air of someone who’s barely a year older than Jin Ling himself, “you got scammed at the farmer’s market, but that’s okay. We still love and support you.”
Predictably, Jin Ling’s cheeks go splotchy red and he splutters, batting Zizhen’s hand away and waving the fish like a sword, “I will cut off your hand!”
Unable to hide his own amusement, Sizhui steps in, lips twitching not to snicker out loud, “come on, why don’t we flush it down the toilet, then? That way it will stop stinking up the kitchen.”
“Awesome,” Jingyi immediately agrees, taking the paper bag in one quick motion before Jin Ling could protest, “chop-chop, Young Mistress, we don’t have all afternoon and those cupcakes will not bake themselves.”
Jin Ling growls and lunges after Jingyi, and running is forbidden in Cloud Recesses, but Sizhui doesn’t warn them, just laughs, following them at a more sedate pace with Zizhen. It’s a rare thing to hear laughter quite this loud in these halls.
“So,” Zizhen says, “do we have a reliable recipe or are we diving into the scary world of online cooking sites?”
“Jingyi’s mother gave us hers,” he thinks of the scrawled up piece of paper stuck on the refrigerator with a bunny magnet, smiles, “apparently it’s a family recipe, so it will hopefully be more, er. Flavorful?”
Zizhen chokes on a snort. “Sorry, sorry, no offense, but considering we’re holding the sale in Cayi, that’s great news.”
“None taken. I know Gusu has very different tastes from the rest of the sects,” Sizhui opens the bathroom door for them, Jin Ling’s loud voice echoing from inside, “besides, Senior Wei is my father.”
And he has made it very clear what he thinks of the bland food favored by their sect. Sizhui doesn’t mind. In fact, while Senior Wei’s own taste is very extreme, he thinks he might lie in the middle– not enough spices to burn off his tongue, but just a little bit more seasoning wouldn’t hurt. He shakes his head, looks around at Jin Ling and Jingyi’s blank faces. The hem of Jin Ling’s pants is wet. “Everything alright?”
“Yes, of course, it’s fine,” Jin Ling says quickly, stepping forward and dragging Jingyi with him.
Jingyi blinks, adds loudly, “how about those cupcakes now, huh?”
One day, Sizhui is pretty sure he will be appointed First Disciple of the GusuLan Sect. It might even be soon, the way things are headed, but for now– for now, he can trade a look with Zizhen and spin on his heels to march out of the bathroom. The less he knows about this, the better.
“Okay, okay,” Jingyi says, hands dripping egg yolk on the white tiles, “okay.”
The recipe is pretty straightforward. No, really, Sizhui is sure it should not be this much of an ordeal! It’s like, it’s like– just adding stuff in a bowl! How hard could it truly be?
“Stop saying that!” Jin Ling snaps, hair nearly as white as the walls with the flour dusting over his whole self, “just give me this here!”
Zizhen shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, guys? Should I keep whisking?”
“Yes!” Both of them bark at the same time in an unparalleled show of unity. They’re hunched together over the recipe, Jingyi’s sticky fingers leaving yellow stains on the paper, and Sizhui still hasn’t found the mixer to start on the frosting.
When Lan Xichen had taken over some of Lan Qiren’s classes, Sizhui had been delighted– surely, his uncle would be a wonderful teacher, kinder and gentler than his greatuncle had been! And he had, sure, no arguing that, but Lan Xichen also has ideas and philosophies regarding bringing the lectures to the 21st century, and that’s also great! So great! Sizhui loves it! Everyone loves it!
A baking sale was perhaps a bit much.
Or, well. Maybe it’s just them that are having this much trouble with it, Sizhui hasn’t heard any of the other disciples complain and they’re not even using the main kitchens to cook, only the ones in their guest houses.
Sizhui really wishes they had been forbidden from using it, heaven knows they would have looked for something easier to make in that case.
“Sizhui!” Jin Ling calls, startling him into slamming his head in the cabinet ceiling, “how are we on that frosting?”
Wincing, “uhm,” he clears his throat, lying is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, “I have a solid plan on how to make it.”
Jin Ling’s face clouds over. For someone who got scammed in the farmer’s market, he looks a startling amount like Sect Leader Jiang. “What do you– you haven’t started the frosting yet?”
“Considering the batter isn’t ready for the oven yet,” he answers in the placid voice Hanguang-Jun uses whenever he wants to make Sect Leader Jiang froth with rage, “I didn’t think there was that much of a hurry.”
It makes Jin Ling froth with rage.
Yeah, Sizhui sees now why his father does it, it is very amusing.
“How about we switch?” Zizhen interrupts, thrusting the bowl he had been whisking the egg whites on Sizhui’s hands, “you try your luck on these and I’ll look for the mixer.”
The clock ticks miserably on the wall and Sizhui sighs, dropping on the closest stool he can find. Is it covered with either sugar or flour? Possibly. Does he care? At this point, he just wants this nightmare to end.
With the calm of a man headed for the gallows, Sizhui starts whisking. Somewhere behind him, Zizhen is asking Fairy to drop something down.
The cupcakes come out of the oven slightly drooping and with a dense cloud of smoke.
“They’re not burnt,” Jingyi reassures them, kicking the oven closed. His sneakers light up because they can’t read a room. “Look, they’re all red.”
Jin Ling eyes the batch with distrust. “I wouldn’t call it red, exactly.”
“Yeah,” Zizhen peers over his shoulder, “I think it’s more of a maroon shade.”
“Shut up,” Jingyi scowls, moving past them to drop the second tray on the table, “they’re perfectly fine.”
“Well, we’re going to frost them anyway,” Sizhui says with what he hopes is a bright everything will be alright and we are not going to fail at the bake sale smile. In all fairness, even he can see how that might be a lot to expect from a smile.
The cupcakes stare balefully up at them. Sizhui briefly entertains the idea that they might have baked resentful little cupcakes. Honestly, if anyone could do it, it would be them.
“Should we just,” Jin Ling says, making a face, “go for it?”
“Dunno,” Jingyi shrugs, elbowing him and causing a domino effect until Sizhui is the one being jostled, “hey, you should tell us, isn’t your mom, like, a real chef?”
“That doesn’t mean I know shit! She never lets me or dad into the kitchen when she’s cooking!”
Oh, right, Sizhui thinks he heard Sect Leader Jiang talk to Senior Wei about that– apparently it involved an incident in their teenage days with an accidental fire and a chicken stuck to the ceiling? He’s a little hazy on the details.
“I think Zewu-Jun really overestimated us,” Zizhen laments, stirring the frosting morosely.
“Nonsense,” Sizhui decides, it’s forbidden to lie at Cloud Recesses, “we’re almost done. The worst part is over, we just need to frost them. How hard can that be?”
Jingyi groans. “Famous last words.”
Ignoring his pessimism and the voice in his head warning him about jinxing himself, Sizhui takes the frosting from Zizhen and begins spooning it into one of the piping bags. This is fine, they’re in the finishing line, the kitchen is not on fire, and there is nothing glued to the ceiling. This is already better than the last generation.
Silently, the others follow him, grabbing their own piping bags with no regards for the tips, but this is fine, they don’t all have to look the same. In fact, it will look better with some variety.
Sizhui approaches the first tray. He raises the piping bag. The first dollop of frosting hits the cake and– the world doesn’t end. Resentful energy doesn’t waft up in wisps of black smoke. Nothing blows up.
They all exhale shakily.
“Right,” he shakes himself, making a conscious effort to loosen up before resuming, “see, it’s fine. We regularly fight fierce corpses on nighthunts.”
“Fighting fierce corpses does not require finer motor skills,” Jingyi mutters, taking up his own tray.
“Speak for yourself,” huffs Jin Ling, never failing at raising to Jingyi’s bait, “some of us are actually accomplished archers.”
“Yes, yes, you’re Sect Leader Jiang’s mini-me, we’re all well aware of that,” Zizhen is rolling his eyes, waving off Jin Ling’s spluttering, “now, do we have enough frosting? And sprinkles! We need sprinkles!”
Do they? Do they really? Frankly, all Sizhui wants is to be done with this. After they’re finished with the cupcakes, they still have to clean up the kitchen and oh boy, is there a lot to clean. Some of the batter has spilled on the counter and Jingyi’s first attempt at separating yolk from white is still dripping a puddle from the sink to the floor. The sink itself, of course, it swimming with way too many bowls. That’s too many bowls. Sizhui isn’t sure when they started piling up or where they’re coming from, but they’ve formed a veritable mountain and he’s too afraid too ask. On the floor, there are paw prints even though Fairy hasn’t snuck in the kitchen in at least two hours.
In short, Sizhui is tired and he’s almost missing Lan Qiren’s interminable essays.
“We’re done?” Jingyi’s voice is drowning in disbelief like he had also been worried time had stopped working and condemned them to eternity making cupcakes from hell like Sizhui.
“I guess,” Jin Ling echoes, souding faint.
“It looks almost– nice?” Zizhen says in his most surprised voice.
“And everything is still standing,” Sizhui breathes in relief. Maybe the fish had been a somewhat shaky start, but now–
“Did you guys–”
“Did it come from the bathrooms?”
“Why would it–”
Senior Wei appears in the doorway, looking harried but not worried. “Oh, hey kids,” he gives them a grin, and Sizhui’s own worries fade in his chest. It’s fine, his dad is here and he’s got whatever that was under control. “Don’t worry, Jiang Cheng just slipped because apparently one of the toilets is overflowing? I don’t know exactly what happened, he was screaming about a fish?”
From the corner of his eyes, Sizhui sees Jin Ling and Jingyi fidget guiltily.
“Aw, don’t look so sad,” Senior Wei coos, “your uncle is fine, Jin Ling, he’s just being dramatic! Honest, I used to throw him in the lakes all the time when we were kids, I don’t know what’s so upsetting about being wet now.”
Privately, Sizhui thinks being wet on toilet water with a dead fish is very upsetting, but that would be admitting to knowing about the fish and he’s still officially clinging to plausible deniability.
So instead, he gives his best innocent, earnest look, “I hope Sect Leader Jiang gets better soon. Maybe he could borrow some of the guest robes?”
“Ah, good thinking, A-Yuan,” Senior Wei brightens, “he will hate that, I can’t wait to see his face!”
With that, his dad leaves, and the kitchen rings with a kind of silence that stinks worse than the dead fish– it stinks with the promise of copying many, many rules in the library if dots were to be connected.
“I think we’re done here–”
“I should go–”
“It’s quite late–”
In the interest of getting the dots as far from each others as possible, they collectivelly and silently agree to stick the cupcakes with preserving talismans and vacate the premises.
Calmly, of course, after all, running is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses.
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the 1 // d. malfoy
DRACO MALFOY X MUGGLEBORN!READER
Summary: he couldn’t see past one thing, and because of that, he left. but it could have been fun, if he could have been the one.
Word Count: 2.9k
Warning: Blood Prejudice. Angst. Lost love.
A/N: it is implied that the reader is not in slytherin but a house is not specifically mentioned.
It’s funny how the simplest things one sees in their everyday life can bring back a spiral of memories - good or bad. Green apples, paper airplanes, and the combination of silver and green were now forever tainted in your mind. It was silly that something as human and simple as blood and family had to be the downfall of what was thought to be a love that would last a lifetime. And however hard you would try to cast away and thoughts or feelings or symbols of him, memories always had a way of persistently reminding you of what was no longer yours and possibly was never yours...
Hogwarts, 4th Year
September welcomed you with the last tastes of summer warmth before winter came stalking back, only to bring the tundra with it. It was the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and a year of making new, international acquaintances with the women of Beauxbatons and the men of Durmstrang.
Your summer had been less eventful than that of your peers whom a great majority had attended the Quidditch World Cup and some even experienced the Death Eaters return. Rumors had been around about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returning and which wizarding families would side with him. Of course, house and blood prejudice played a part in it all, but you managed to look past all of the controversies in the wizarding world. Over the summer, you had grown into yourself and blossomed into a beautiful witch who was very bright for her age. Others around the school had noticed as well, including the men from Durmstrang that created competition for the boys of Hogwarts.
However, with it now October, none of them caught your attention yet as you walked back to your seat in the arena with Hermione after leaving the Champions Tent to check in with Harry, whose name had unfortunately spouted for the Goblet of Fire. Today was the first challenge of three, and you had done your best to be supportive of your friend.
“Hermione, please calm down. Harry will figure it out, he always does,” You glided down the steps in front of her, looking for your fellow Gryffindors.
“But a dragon! This challenge is unbelievably foul! And that Daily Prophet woman has made this all so much-” As Hermione rambled on, she paid little attention to her feet and accidentally stepped on the back of your heel.
The misstep along with the shock had caused you to lose your balance and begin to take a tumble down the steps. As you felt gravity pull you down and prepared yourself for the inevitable pain with it, a pair of arms and a masculine frame had caught you before the disaster could occur.
“Careful, (y/l/n), we can’t have you harming that beautiful face. It would be quite a shame if you took a nasty tumble down the stairs,” he spoke, his tone a fine line between flirtatious and condescending.
“Oh, I-” The boy helped you balance yourself on the steps again, and you finally lifted your head to meet the eyes of your savior, “Draco.”
“Are you alright, (y/l/n)? Not to frightened by the dragons, are you?” His grey eyes peered back up into yours as you were slightly taller than him due to the steps of the stairs.
“No, no, of course not,” You shook your head softly and smiled to the boy, “Thank you, Draco.”
As if on cue, Hermione had invaded the private moment between you and the Malfoy boy, “Excuse us, Malfoy, but we would like to go sit with our friends before Harry enters the arena.”
His gaze broke off to glare at Hermione, “Oh yeah, you catch quite a view of him cowering away from the beast. I bet he’ll forfeit the challenge five minutes in.”
Draco’s entire demeanor had changed from a strange kindness to a smug arrogance as he sneered at the Granger girl. You didn’t want anything more to come from the encounter, so you caught Draco's attention again by lightly fixing his hat that had become lopsided, “Thank you again, Draco, but we should really be getting to our seats.”
His eyes flickered back to you and his features softened again, “Well if you feel like joining me in cheering for Krum, there will remain a seat open for you.”
With that, he allows the pair of you the breeze past him as he returns to his seat. A warmth stayed persistent on your cheeks as you made your way next to Ron, who looked quite disgruntled.
“(y/n), what was that back there?” Hermione questioned as the pair of you took your seats,
“What happened? Harry say something?”
Before you could speak, Hermione replied, “I accidentally tripped (y/n), but Draco caught her before she could tumble down the steps. Which I guess is somewhat lucky, but he flirted with her.”
“Malfoy?!? But he-,” Ron looked at you, both quizzical and worried, “Did he do anything? He jinx you?”
“Um... no,” You looked between the two of them, lost in their confusion.
“But Malfoy can’t stand muggle-borns, even if they are kind or pretty as you, (y/n),” Ron wrinkled his nose at the thought.
“That’s just it,” Both yours and Ron’s attention snapped to Hermione, “I don’t think Malfoy knows that you’re muggle-born which probably is in your favor, you saw how he looked and spoke to me.”
A canon erupted, signaling that Harry would enter the arena in only a moment. The shock of it all had left you confused, “it was probably just a one-time encounter. Let’s just watch Harry, and let that just blow over.”
With that, the three of you cheered for the Gryffindor boy and mostly forgot about your encounter with Draco. Sure, the memory of it would continue to puzzle you and keep you up at night to only be lost in thought. Yet, December rolled around quicker than anyone expected and with it, exciting news.
Along with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the tradition of the Yule Ball would fall on the eve of the winter solstice. Many girls around the school were already gossiping about dates, dress, and dancing even though many of their male colleagues seemed to be quite opposed to the event. That was until the school announced that the Weird Sisters would be playing a set at the ball.
Of course, the main chatter was who the champions were taking to the Yule Ball because every girl wanted Cedric or Viktor to ask them and every boy was lining up to ask Fleur. Yet poor Harry couldn’t seem to catch a break-even in finding a date for the night. But Hermione would be quite the talk of the town once everyone realized that she was Viktor’s date for the ball, and he had taken a further interest in her. The pair of you chatted as you walked towards your classes together - she was going to the astronomy tower and you were going to divinations.
“I still can’t believe you snagged Viktor Krum! I mean I’m not exactly surprised with both your beauty and brains-”
“Oh stop that,” Hermione blushed and tried to quiet you down, “Who are you going with? I know that you’ve been asked at least five times today!”
As she showered you in compliments, you saw the flash of platinum blonde hair breeze past the pair of you with a few followers trickling behind. It was undoubtedly Malfoy and his crew who were also headed to Professor Trelawney’s class.
“I haven’t said yes to anyone yet,” you admitted timidly.
“What?!? You have to be kidding me, (y/n). I know at least half the Durmstrang boys would love to be your escort for the night-”
“I-I know that, Hermione,” you flushed as the pair of you paused on the stairs, “I’m just... waiting for the right person.”
“Alright, just make sure you say yes to him. Or else I fear Harry or Ron will ask you,” You bid each other goodbye and separated to your designated classes.
As you made your way up the north tower to try and make it to class a few minutes early. Even though other students may have found her strange and overbearing, you knew that she was deep down a kind lady who wished the best for everyone she crossed paths with. Yet before you could make it up much further, you felt a light tug on the hood of your robes.
“Oh!” you jumped slightly at the shock.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, (y/n),” Michael Corner smiled as he glanced up at you, “do you have just a quick second?”
“I do, but let’s step into the window sill so that we’re out of the way,” you suggested. He stepped over onto it first, before offering his hand out to you, “Thank you.”
Few students passed by the two of you and up into the north tower, there was still 5 minutes till classes started but you still hoped to be early enough to snag a seat in the front.
“Well, how can I help you, Michael? Did you get my notes from Cho? I asked her to pass them onto you, but I can make you an extra copy-”
“No, no, she passed them along to me. Thank you for that. Potions is sadly not my area of expertise,” He smiled as a little blush dusted his cheeks, “I actually was wondering if you had a date to the Yule Ball? And if not-”
“(y/l/n)!” you heard Draco call and quickly hurry up the steps towards you, “Thank Salazar I found you before classes started.”
Draco paused next to you, giving you the kindest eyes before his gaze turned towards Michael. His expression changed into that of one mixed with jealousy and disagreement, “Corner, shouldn’t you be out in the greenhouses. Why don’t you leave (y/n) alone before someone gets the impression that a Ravenclaw is going to skip class.”
Michael glanced at you then over to Draco before disappearing down the stairs. Before he completely vanished from your sight, he looked back up at you with a very apparent look of disappointment in his eyes. Draco now took the spot where Michael was previously and held your right hand in his.
“(y/l/n), I don’t know if you realize but you are quite a wanted woman recently,” Draco smirked, his grey eyes flickering across your face as if gathering information.
“I guess so... I mean with the ball and everything, I have gotten plenty of proposals.”
“So I’ve heard, but you’ve yet to say yes to any of them, or so I’ve heard.”
“Correct again. I haven’t given my word to attend with anyone, but I did promise a dance or two to a few gentlemen,” you tried to analyze the situation as best as you could, but Draco remained unreadable to you. He also knew how to put up a good front.
“Well, (y/n), I am hoping that you’ll give me the pleasure of being my date to the Yule Ball, and hopefully, you will allow me to take you to Hogsmeade in the next few weeks,” his face had softened as he waited for a reply, his smugness and confident stance faltering under your gaze.
“Draco, are you asking me out? As your girlfriend and to the Yule Ball?”
“I figured- you know... two birds with one stone.”
“I would love to be your companion to the Yule Ball,” You beamed at him, “and your girlfriend.”
That day had long passed now. So had the Yule Ball and your entire fourth year. Now you were at the end of your fifth year and Draco no longer treated you like a prized possession, let alone sparing you a glance.
At some point in your relationship, the sweetness of being in love ended as he began expecting behaviors and ideas from you that you never expressed before. He still held Slytherin above every other house and expected you to treat those not in Slytherin's house the same way he did. He wanted your attention and affection at every second, instead of allowing you to be with friends and he rarely ever returned affections either. But the worst behavior that Draco partook of that crossed every line for you was the blood prejudice.
He held being part of the Sacred Twenty Eight to a higher degree than necessary in all aspects. There was a difference in being proud of your bloodline and then being prideful of your bloodline. And the Malfoy family very much fell into the pride of being Pureblooded Wizards.
That was when a puzzle really clicked into place for you. Yes, Draco had loved you for you, but he also needed his parents to love you. He tried to pressure you into a perfect little box that he could wrap up and present to mummy and daddy. You understood why he felt the needed to continue being the perfect Malfoy, but you couldn’t understand why he thought it was okay to pull you into it. His parents would never accept you for one reason.
“I don’t understand this, (y/l/n). we took a break just like you asked and it has done nothing. I know you still love me, so let's stop this ridiculous behavior. My parents want to meet you again. Mother loved you and I’m sure this time father will...”
“No, Draco. I don’t want to go back to the Manor,” You shook your head and took deep breaths.
“Well, that’s odd, but we can go to your estate-”
“No, can’t you listen-”
“The Three Broomsticks then, but please, I need you-”
“No, Draco, you aren’t listening to me,” tears threatened to spill as you felt your heart begin to shatter. You had never lied to Draco, but the truth about your family had never come to the surface.
As far as it concerned the Wizarding World, the (y/l/n) Family was also a part of the Sacred Twenty Eight Pureblood families. You understood the confusion and had to explain it to many of your friends and professors. But now Draco had to know the truth, even if it meant he wouldn’t be yours anymore.
“I’m not whoever you’ve painted me out to be,” your bottom lips quivered as you took a deep breath, “I’m not exactly who you think I am.”
Draco’s whole body dropped, “what do you mean?”
“Yes, I am part of the (y/l/n) bloodline, but I’m also a muggle-born.”
“No, that doesn’t make sense.”
“My grandparents had five children. My two uncles, my father, and my two aunts. All of them great wizards, except for my father who had no magical abilities - the only one in our family. He married my mother, who is a muggle. However, I am a witch.” you confessed it all, praying that he would understand. Maybe he would love you enough to glance over this fatal flaw.
“A squib? Your father is a squib and you never bothered to mention it!”
“It wasn’t that important I thought, because I’m still a member of a Pureblood family! I thought that you would see over it because it’s such a small hiccup.”
“I- no, I can’t just look over it. You know I can’t and you know I won’t,” Draco glared, looking at you with the same disdain that his father had when speaking of muggles.
“Draco, please. We can lie and just paint over this. I’ll even get my family to lie, but I don’t want to lose you. I’ve never felt like this with anyone, ever in my life,” A few stray tears managed to escape your defense as you begged him.
“(y/n), we both know who my parents, who my family, who we are associated with. I can’t risk it and neither can you.”
“I love you, Draco. And everyone knows it.”
“I love you too. And hopefully, you will get it through your head while I can’t love you anymore.”
During your sixth and seventh years, you never spoke to Draco, let alone offered a glance in his general direction. He shattered your heart after you had thought you had found your person, your soulmate if you will. The only thing the shocked you was that he never mentioned or let lose the dirtiest secret of your family. It wouldn’t have changed much but still have hurt you enough in many social circles.
Even after the Battle of Hogwarts had passed, you still hadn’t made up with Draco and even Harry Potter, his schoolyard nemesis, ended up coming to terms. All your friends were engaged, married, or dating. You had also tried, but nothing ever came of anything you attempted to pursue. The spark you once had with who you thought was the love of your life never reappeared with anyone else.
However, you heard from the newlywed Potter’s that Draco had married - an arranged marriage - but married nonetheless. To Astoria Greengrass who was two years your younger back in school. Both purebloods, caring for their family lineage. The news had come to you at the end of another failed relationship and felt like a ton of bricks on your chest.
No, the Malfoy prejudice was in no way your fault. You had done everything you could to salvage the relationships and love him unconditionally. But sometimes you wonder...
if one thing had been different, would everything be different?
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Not sure if you already talked about this. (I’m pretty sure you have) but someone seemed to notice that when the trio get into fights, Hermione’s always in the right. Even when she’s supposed to be wrong she always seems to be half right. That kind of bothers me. Especially since it’s evident in the whole Scabbers situation.
I have indeed, on Quora, so let’s move yet another answer of mine to Tumblr!
Hermione is seldom wrong in the Harry Potter books. Sometimes she makes mistakes but those mistakes are either completely swept under the rug or downright ignored.
It’s partly due to lazy writing and partly due to Rowling’s own growing bias in favour of her Author Avatar that was fuelled by Steve Kloves, the primary advocate of the Hermione Granger Is The Perfect Girl Ever line of thinking (an utterly ridiculous line of thinking mind you).
Lizo: Steve, Hermione is a character that you have said is one of your favorites. Has that made her easier to write?
Steve: Yeah, I mean, I like writing all three, but I've always loved writing Hermione. Because, I just, one, she's a tremendous character for a lot of reasons for a writer, which also is she can carry exposition in a wonderful way because you just assume she read it in a book. If I need to tell the audience something...
JKR: Absolutely right, I find that all the time in the book, if you need to tell your readers something just put it in her. There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue. One is Hermione, the other is Dumbledore. In both cases you accept, it's plausible that they have, well Dumbledore knows pretty much everything anyway, but that Hermione has read it somewhere. So, she's handy.
Now this, right here, is the exact core of the problem.
Rowling herself admits it: if she wants the readers to have information, she puts Hermione in the scene. Hermione is our primary means of exposition because, like *grits teeth* Sssssteve puts it, it’s easy to assume that she’s read about it somewhere and it makes sense.
That’s all well and good but at first, if you notice, Ron also gave us exposition about the wizarding world, mostly about its culture. He was able to recall the exact year of the Wizarding Confederation that outlawed dragon breeding in Philosopher’s Stone! He explained what were respectively a “Mudblood”, a “Squib”, and Parseltongue, Hermione doing a little exposition about the history of that last one! He was also able to identify Sirius, after being dragged into the Whomping Willow, as an Animagi!
But then Goblet of Fire happens and you can notice the first change that will exponentially grow through the books: instead of Ron, pureblood Ron, born-before-the-end-of-the-war Ron, lived-through-the-aftermath-of-the-war Ron, identifying the Dark Mark, it’s instead Hermione, muggleborn Hermione, lived-as-a-Muggle-for-most-of-her-life Hermione, has-no-idea-about-the-emotional-impact-of-the-Mark Hermione who looks terrified as the Dark Mark shoots into the sky!
And it only will get worse, by the end of the series, Hermione pretty much knows about everything the plot needs her to know, instead of having to work with things she knows but can’t always apply to the situation:
Suddenly has a deep knowledge of Magical Law (in the will of Dumbledore’s chapter, while we had Rufus Scrimgeour who could have provided it to us, or to a lesser extent, Ron could have explained how a wizarding will basically worked)
Is suddenly an expert at finding edible plants and mushrooms. Apparently books are always the goddamn answer in JKR’s world, you can literally learn anything from them
She can decipher all the Tales of Beedle the Bard (may I remind you that they were written in Runes, okay Hermione may have a few years of Ancient Runes education BUT I once tried to translate a 3k+ story I had written for fun, from French to English, which means I knew what the subtleties and intentions were, I knew which turns of phrase I had to preserve so it would make sense in the end, and it still took me two gruelling weeks to get a satisfying result!)
Has suddenly grown a sense of quick-thinking (escaping Xenophilius’ house, using the jinx to make Harry’s face weird-looking) despite it being the only remaining flaw she had at the time (remember when she turned her back on her enemy while he was still conscious just to compliment Harry, and almost died as a result, even though she had been training in the DA to learn how to fight Death Eaters?) Quick-thinking under pressure can be learned, but it takes time and a lot of work to force your brain to override its instinct - and it’s fine because we’re all human and different. But no suddenly Hermione is the Greatest Strategist Evah™ and those silly boys (who actually were the original quick-thinking ones, and one of them was established as the strategist early on) better be grateful for this literal goddess because she protects them from all harm with her superhuman brain.
Somehow knows about Quidditch stuff - she knows about a Snitch’s “memory-touch”. Why should she give all the answers? Why can’t Ron give us this particular tidbit of information?
And then when we come to something Ron actually knows, the damn narration itself goes “woah a book that Ron has read but Hermione hasn’t??? shocking!! incredible!! Ron is not dumb, somebody call the news channel”. But… is that really so surprising? We’ve never seen Hermione read wizarding fiction or even Muggle fiction. We’ve never seen Hermione with anything other than schoolbooks in her hands. Of course Ron has read books she hasn’t read since she doesn’t seem to read fiction at all!
Sorry, bit of a tangent over here.
There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue.
So, that’s one part of the problem: the fact that Rowling, after making Ron our insight into magical culture and Hermione our provider of knowledge, ended up saying “eh whatever I guess Hermione can tell us everything we gotta know because it’s more convenient for me”. Which is a decision that was not based on Hermione’s character, but simply lazy writing. Long story short, it probably went: “Could Ron explain this bit of trivia? Meh, better make Hermione say it cause she’ll have read it in a book. It’s convenient and I won’t need to bother myself with exploring Ron’s characterisation.”
(And thus completely forgetting that Ron could maybe ask his big brothers via owl and provide us with a good heap of extra advanced knowledge - Bill is supposed to have aced his NEWTs after all.)
The other part of the problem is quite simply that Hermione is more often than not, either painted as a victim by the narrative (which makes more people take her side, classic manipulation tactic), or made to be right anytime it’s about a plot point.
Hermione’s mistakes are never explicitly stated, corrected, or even pointed out as being unethical.
Hermione only gets one mistake expressedly pointed out as being a mistake: her misadventure in Polyjuice Potion. The rest of them? Even her crush on Lockhart can’t be counted as a mistake - people get crushes all the time, based solely on physical appearance, it’s not something awful or terrible (Except when it’s Ron who crushes on someone. Ron crushing on someone is absolutely forbidden, and he must be punished with much ridicule and humiliation if he thinks he can get away with not worshipping Hermione like the goddess she is. The nerve of him, really.).
Throughout the books Hermione eventually morphs into Rowling’s Powerful Angel of Vengeance, that punishes the people who dared to do something she disliked - Rita is silenced but at a very ethically dubious price; Marietta gets scarred for life because she was more loyal to her mother than to a bunch of people her friend insisted she hang out with; Umbridge is led to a very, very alarming fate that is never made clear but some people have ideas and they’re not all very kid-friendly; Ron first is “helped” without knowing it because Hermione can’t be bothered to have faith in his capabilities, then when he fails to dutifully reward her for “helping” him, she causes him bodily harm before actively bullying him for not mind-reading her interest in him; causes even more bodily harm to Ron because that’s how feminism works; etc.
Hermione’s mistakes are always justified through the plot itself (which is lazy writing).
Turning into a cat? Only affects her.
The Firebolt? Scabbers? Well, in the end, it was really sent by Sirius Black and Crookshanks really wasn’t the culprit. Therefore all the feelings that were hurt and all the trust lost are irrelevant because Hermione was right all along.
Trying to free the house-elves? Well, it’s the intent that counts, right? And we’re never told enough about house-elf lore to know whether they’re poor brainwashed victims or powerful Penate-like symbiotes who need to serve a wizard to survive?
Kidnapping Rita Skeeter, trapping her and blackmailing her? Rita may be one foul little beetle, but that’s going a bit far, isn’t it? Harry approves? Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then…? A main character can’t have a dubious morality, right?
Manipulating Harry into forming Dumbledore’s Army and forcing him to relive a traumatic event with the same woman she’s kidnapped and blackmail and that she knows he hates? In the end, it all works out for the best and Harry’s hurt feelings don’t matter since it’s all about the greater good.
Using the centaurs to get rid of Umbridge (which poses the highly distressing question of what did the centaurs do to her?), realizing that the centaurs aren’t nice little horsies that are going to gently obey her every orders like good Disney princess’ companions, my goodness could this be an opportunity for character growth - nevermind, here comes Grawp the Giant Ex Machina, saving her arse and protecting Hermione from all that scary possibility of introspection. Thanks, Grawp Ex Machina.
Trying to dissuade a highly stressed-out and irrational Harry from rescuing Sirius by telling him exactly what he needed not to hear, a.k.a. “you have a saving people-thing” which causes Harry to completely go bonkers and go save his godfather without thinking twice? Well she was right after all, it was a trap! Nevermind how mind-boggingly insenstive and inadept at dealing with someone else’s feelings she was being, she was right! That means it wasn’t Hermione’s mistake!… probably. (Geez, I’m sensing a pattern here…)
Endangering Cormac’s life (Confunding him WHILE HE’S ON HIS BROOM) to promote Ron’s success? Oh but that’s so romantic! (Yeaaaah, how romantic to display exactly how much faith you lack in your crush. Top it off with a broken neck and that’s a picture perfect first date!)
Assaulting Ron with magic and causing him even more scars than he already had? But he was being cold with her first, right? And he totally should have known she was asking him out! It’s not like her invitation was even worse than his attempt to ask her out two years earlier! Plus she’s just a teenage girl expressing her emotions, anyone who tries to find fault in this is a disgusting abusive misogynist pig! Ha!
Getting all jealous that Harry is better than her at Potions, then pretending she’s not jealous by claiming that TEH BOOK IS EVIL, HARRY, and giving him the cold shoulder too? But no, she’s right, look, Harry used Sectumsempra and he almost killed Draco, nevermind that he’s very horrified about it! Hermione was right, like she always is!
Hermione Obliviating her parents, which pulls her from the “ethically dubious” zone into the “wow okay I’m pretty sure that this counts as a violation of basic human rights” zone, makes her one of those quirky wizardfolk who have the privilege to control those simple-minded Muggles because it’s for the greater good? But nooo she’s crying about it so it’s obviously very sad and angsty and it shows her devotion to the cause!
Splinching Ron while fleeing from the Ministry? Eeeh, but he’s fine, they’ve got Dittany, he’s good as new!… blood loss? Anaemia? What’s that?
Hermione was wrong about the Deathly Hallows not existing? Um, um, that doesn’t matter, LOOK DOBBY IS DEAD AND HARRY IS BACK TO LOOKING FOR THE HORCRUXES!! Therefore Hermione was right, the Hallows weren’t important for their quest, therefore the Hallows might as well not exist, HERMIONE WAS RIGHT NO REALLY I’VE GOT RECEIPTS -
The books never forget to remind Harry and Ron of their own shortcomings and moments of weakness.
Harry’s wrath and recklessness cost Sirius his life. This is the lesson he has to learn from his entitled behaviour in OotP: actions have consequences, and the greater your responsibility, the greater the cost will be.
Ron’s envy and insecurity lead him astray; they’re used to humiliate, ridicule and torture him throughout the books. They’re supposed to teach him that he’s worth something - but how is he supposed to believe that, when nobody ever tells him he’s worth anything? When nobody ever apologizes to him? When his feelings are taken for granted over and over? When his two friends seem to discard him whenever he does one thing wrong?
Hermione is never punished. Hermione is never said to be wrong, never shown to be wrong, never called out on her behaviour. From Prisoner of Azkaban to mid-Deathly Hallows, she stays exactly the same character. She doesn’t grow up. She doesn’t learn. She doesn’t change. She has virtually no character arc.
The only time, THE ONLY TIME IN SEVEN BOOKS, the only time we have something remotely resembling a call-out of Hermione’s horrible behaviour is with this sole quote in HBP:
Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.
Note how it’s about “girls” and not Hermione in particular, which implies that any girl would do what Hermione does to Ron. Thanks for the generalization, JKR, but I like to believe I’m actually a decent sort of person that doesn’t resort to petty cruelty and exploits my friends’ insecurities whenever I’m angry with them.
Hermione NEVER has to apologize.
Hermione NEVER has to learn from her mistakes because she’s always presented as a victim when she really isn’t.
Hermione NEVER develops into something more - she’s emotionally stuck at fourteen years old. Even less than that when you consider that her reaction to Ron’s return in Deathly Hallows is to trash him with her fists - and she was going to get her wand!! The utter psychopathic b- wanted TO THROW BIRDS AT HIM AGAIN!!! - and this reaction is an appropriate one for a four-years old girl, but certainly not for a supposedly “mature” seventeen-years old.
(Yes, because what separates a child from an adult is the ability to reign in your emotions and not succumb to your impulses. Exactly what Ron did when he left the tent (notice that he had drawn his wand, then he left before he could start hexing Harry), he left to calm himself down. Exactly what Hermione fails to do when Ron returns (she has the impulse to strike him and immediately succumbs to it, which proves to us that The Brightest Witch Of Her Age has all the maturity of a very small child).)
All of that, on top of the awful portrayal in the movies which removes all of Ron’s characteristics to stuff them into Hermione and turns her into some impossible epitome of perfection, eventually contributed to the portrayal of Hermione as the one who is always right and knows everything.
Add to it JKR’s own ridiculous bias (“Ron was quite emotionally immature compared to the other two”, yeah right I don’t see him trying to force freedom onto unwilling creatures or making Harry fly into an irrational rage with mere words but you do you, Jo) and the sexist misconception that “girls are innately more mature than boys”, and you get yourself this apparent behemoth of righteousness that was literally the sole reason why those two silly boys survived everything, and don’t you dare criticize this angel of perfection OR ELSE.
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the battle at diagon alley // jimmy fletcher.
Mentions/features: Fleur Weasley, Reyna Nott, Olive Longbottom.
To summarise: Jimmy arrives with Nik & Dana, but is soon separated from them. He ends up helping out Fleur, who is in turn helping out a wounded man. He duels with Reyna, and ends up winning, or at least getting the hell away. Jimmy comes across Diomedes torturing Olive, and confunds him before taking Olive to St Mungo’s, where he stays the remainder of the night before going home.
THREAD 001: Fleur & Jimmy.
FLEUR WEASLEY: Chaos. Complete chaos, but Fleur immediately had sprung into action. Her wand was clutched in her hand to defend herself when she saw someone lying on the ground. She rushed to their side, but knowing there were Death Eaters all around, she called out to the first order member she saw - “Jimmy! Cover me!” - and hoped that he would as she started to try and help the person lying on the ground.
JIMMY FLETCHER: His ears pick up his name, and he turns around, quickly, his instincts more than sharp. He sees Fleur, a body on the ground, and he shakes off a Death Eater by hitting them with a stunning spell before rushing over. "Gotcha, Delacour!" That's not her surname any more, but who cares about such details at the moment. He casts a shield charm, eyes considering their surroundings. "They alive?"
FLEUR WEASLEY: Grateful to know that he was watching her back, Fleur now focused on the man lying on the ground. "Yes. Yes, I should be able to help." She took a deep breath before waving her wand over him, muttering spells to at least get him well enough to apparate to safety.
JIMMY FLETCHER: He releases a breath of air he didn't know he was holding, eyes flicking to Fleur for a moment. He doesn't like death. He doesn't like any of this. Empty words fall from his mouth as he says, "Great, cool, yeah - great," his mind and mouth not connected. "Fuck, not great." A Death Eater approached, and Jimmy focused on defense more than offense as he tried to block Fleur from their view.
FLEUR WEASLEY: Fleur's managed to stay calm this far, but she was nervous that there would be casualties they couldn't help. "He'll be fine," she spoke, not entirely sure if it was to convince herself or Jimmy. But it was his next words that drew her attention and she noticed the Death Eater. "Merde." She started working quicker, hoping it wouldn't take much longer.
JIMMY FLETCHER: He focuses on defense, not on clever words or distracting taunts, but getting this Death Eater away from here as soon as possible. Stunning spell after stunning spell leaves his wand, but his opponant sends curses right back, debris flying near his foot. In the end, though, one of his red jets of light hits the other square in the chest, and he drops. "Clear, for now." He casts a concealment charm, a shield, and turns to Fleur. "How's it going?"
FLEUR WEASLEY: Hearing all the commotion around her had Fleur nervous, likely not the best for her situation. "Thank you," she replied, turning to look at him. "He'll be fine. Everything severe is at least patched up. But we need to get him off the street. Inside somewhere safe."27 October 2020
JIMMY FLETCHER: He registers her words but doesn't reply immediately, eyes seeking for a safe place. "Got it," he says, and he moves to the first door he sees - belonging to the junk shop - casting alohomora non verbally. Jimmy hasn't ever been opposed to breaking and entering, especially not in moments of need. "Here, Fleur!" He stands near the door, wand at the ready for defensive spells.
FLEUR WEASLEY: Fleur keeps working as he moves away, not wanting to waste any time. A quick charm helps the (more conscious now) man to stand and they nearly run to the door, her own wand casting a shield around them. Once they were all inside, she shut and locked the door before getting the man to some semblance of a seat. "Rest a moment," she told him before turning to Jimmy. "Thank you for you help.”
JIMMY FLETCHER: He doesn't say no to that suggestion, and leans against one of the pillars in the store, eyes flicking to the door every now and then. Most of the time, though, he looks at Fleur. "I should get better at healing," he says. "I mean, I carry potions with me all the time - speaking of, need something? Dittany? - but the spells? I'm shit." Jimmy squats for a moment, rubbing his eyes. "Fucking hell, Fleur. This shit's crazy."
FLEUR WEASLEY: Fleur wiped a bead of sweat from her brow as she took a few deep breaths. For the moment, at least, they could breathe. “Do you have dittany?” she asked, knowing if he did, it would be incredibly useful. “They take practice, and they’re certainly not everyone’s strong suit.” She shook her head. “I know. I know. And I haven’t seen my family since all this started.” She couldn’t think about that now. “I don’t think they’re going to stop anytime soon either.”
JIMMY FLETCHER: "Yeah, give me a second." He digs in his pockets, and takes a while as they're magically enlarged, and produces a vial. "Here." Jimmy hands Fleur the potion, and stands near her now, watching her at work, impressed. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry about that." He thought about those he'd come with that he cared about, and felt a pang of fear. "I've not seen Dung either, but I'm sure he's ghosted." All the others he cares about, he doesn't mention, as the thought scares him too much. "Yeah. Me either. They're really out for blood."
FLEUR WEASLEY: “Ah, thank you.” Fleur offered a very small, but grateful smile. One of the cuts she’d thought she’d healed was open again. She put a few drops over the wounds she saw, watching as they started healing. She knew it had to sting, but it was better than bleeding out. “I’ll find them when this is over.” And she couldn’t think about any alternative, not now. “This is only going to get worse isn’t it?”
JIMMY FLETCHER: He thinks it's interesting how well Fleur knows what she's doing. Jimmy knows of course, that appearances are just that, but still: it's an intriguing image. "If I see any of them, I'll tell them you're okay, yeah?" What else is there to do? Hope, he supposes, but that's not something he's familiar with. "If you're looking for something optimistic here I can't help ye. Because yeah, yeah. It probably will."
FLEUR WEASLEY: “Yes. Yes, that would be great, thanks.” She nodded. She’d not been a part of this the first time around, and she was starting to think they’d been lucky then. “If someone can be optimistic about this, I envy them.”
JIMMY FLETCHER: "No worries." Jimmy didn't say that he had a feeling that some of her family members might not be okay, the Weasleys such notorious opposers of the Death Eaters. She probably already knew that. "I dunno. It'll probably bite them in the arse, y'know?"
FLEUR WEASLEY: Fleur nodded. She knew it was foolish to think they’d all get out unscathed. There were too many of them, the odds were against them. “Yeah, it probably will.”
THREAD 002: Reyna & Jimmy.
JIMMY FLETCHER: This isn't where he functions best: on the forefront. Jimmy Fletcher is good at acting in the shadows, behind the scenes, at sneaking around when no one is watching. If it wasn't for the Order and his sense of duty, he would have apparated moments ago, but here he is. Faced with a Death Eater, wands raised. "Can ye even breathe in that fuckin' thing?," he shouts, all bravado and distractions as his wand twists in his hand, sending a nonverbal stinging hex their way. "Seems real uncomfortable."
REYNA NOTT: Reyna cared little for battlefield taunts, but why not have a bit of fun? “Well enough to do my job,” she countered. Though in advancing upon him, his hex hit her shoulder, causing her to stumble a bit before she sent one right back.
JIMMY FLETCHER: His face winces as the stinging hex hits him, but he's had worse. "You call this a job? When d'you get off, then? How's the pay?" He's an easy talker, worse duellist, quick on his feet in both senses. Jimmy points his wand at his opponent, shouting, "Impedimenta!"
REYNA NOTT: "As if you care." The talk was... less than stimulating (though perhaps simply because she wasn't much for conversation anyway). "Protego!" she shouts, raising her wand to protect herself before, "Flipendo!"
JIMMY FLETCHER: "But I do! That's why I asked," he says, rambling as if it's all he knows to do. His mouth and wand move with ease: running his mouth is nature, after all, and so is survival. "See, always on the look out for new job opportunities." And still, the knockback jinx gets him, blowing the air from his lungs. Jimmy scrambles up, though, yelling, "D'you get a bonus for that? Locomotor Wibbly!"
REYNA NOTT: "As if we would accept scum like you." Rey was grateful for the mask that hid her face as her legs buckled beneath her, caught off guard enough in her pride. She sent a blasting curse to the ground in front of his feet as she gathered herself again.
JIMMY FLETCHER: "Oh, come on now, you must have some more original material than the whole scum thing by now!," he exclaims, before scrambling back from the blast, blocking debris flying his way with his wand. "Doesn't it get tiring, calling people scum?"
REYNA NOTT: "What would you prefer I call you?" she nearly shouted, sending yet another blast - laughing at how he scrambled. "No, it gives a good rush."
JIMMY FLETCHER: He defects that one, and sends a pain-inducing curse her way. "Fuck, that's what gives you a rush? Have you tried bungee jumping? Being in love? Something other than boring insults?"
REYNA NOTT: Reyna let out a cry as the curse hit her. It was pain enough that she wouldn't be surprised if he used the opportunity against her. "Love," she scoffed. "It's overrated."
JIMMY FLETCHER: "Flipendo!," he yells, taking advantage of the situation before adding, "I mean, try something else then. Go on a bender, if you want a rush."
REYNA NOTT: Reyna groaned as she hit the ground. “Fuck,” she mumbled. She threw a stinging jinx his way as she got back to her feet. “Oh, no. This is much more fun.”
JIMMY FLETCHER: He winces as the stinging hex hits him, face contorted. He doesn't like this: he hates dueling in all truth, prefers curses that take hours to crack than those fired at him in quick succession. He wants out. "You've got a fucked up idea of what fun is, mate." Jimmy points his wand at the ground before Reyna, "Confringo!"
REYNA NOTT: In all truth, the man was probably right in saying she didn’t really know what fun was. Her own family was so rigid and the one she married into wasn’t much easier. It was because of these thoughts that she was thrown back by the ground blasting in front of her. She laid on the ground, trying to catch her breath.
JIMMY FLETCHER: As the Death Eater fell, Jimmy saw his chance. He was no fighter: the muscle work in both Nik's crew and the Order was left to others. He gripped his wand, pulled up the hood of his hoody and turned, sprinting away from the scene and onto whatever next this battle might hand to him.
THREAD 003: Olive & Jimmy.
JIMMY FLETCHER: The screams are haunting, in all truth. If he was a more cowardly man (which doesn't say a lot, really), he would have turned a blind eye, but he doesn't. He finds the screams belong to one of the Longbottom girls (her name, for now, lost on him) and he takes a moment to assess the situation. Jimmy has always been good at quick thinking, and he observes the masked Death Eater, who's saying, "I just might," in a tone that makes this seem like a fucking game. He creases his eyebrows in concentration as he points his wand at him, "Confundo." His priority isn't with causing harm, but with helping, and as he's particularly skilled at the charm, the masked figure seems to lose focus, glancing at his wand as if it's the first time he's seen it. It's almost comical. Jimmy rushes over towards Olive, casting a protective charm around the two of them. "Hey, hey, I'll get you out, yeah? Can you walk? Stand?" He knows that this amount of questions isn't helping, but he's always been a rambler. "What d'you need?"
OLIVE LONGBOTTOM: everything happens in slow motion, or so it seems. she watches a man, who she doesn’t know, cast a spell in diomedes’ direction. and in moments, the pain stops coursing throughout her body. she’s able to sit up, her hands pressed hard into the ground beneath her, and take a good look at the person who saved her. “i’m okay, i think...” she trails off, clearly still shaken up from the effects of the cruciatus curse. “i can stand... just help me up.” olive holds out her hand, waiting for him to pull her to her feet. “get me out of here. please.”
JIMMY FLETCHER: He takes one glance at her and knows she's not okay, that whatever just happens is fucked up in more ways than one. He doesn't address it, though, his focus on getting her out of here. He takes her hand, and pulls her up. "You good to side along apparate? I'll get you to St Mungo's." Jimmy's eyes look around, checking if his protego is still holding up, before looking at the Longbottom kid again. Fucking hell, he thinks, this world is rotten.
OLIVE LONGBOTTOM: "st. mungos is perfect." she nods before leaning down to pick up her wand, stuffing it into her pocket. she doesn't remember dropping it, but she can only assume that it had fallen out of her hand after diomedes had hit her with the cruciatus curse. "i think i'll be okay to apparate..." she trails off, struggling to concentrate on anything, really. she can feel herself shaking and she tries to steady herself but it's no use. both her body and mind are still reeling, unable to fully proccess everything that had just happened. "we need to hurry, though. he'll come back to his sense soon enough."
JIMMY FLETCHER: He looks at the Death Eater for a moment, but he's still confunded. Jimmy Fletcher might be a rather cowardly dueller, but not much bad could be said about his confundus charms. "Alright, alright. Hold on tight, yeah?" Jimmy looks at the other, so startingly young, and his heart feels heavy. When he was that age, his life wasn't particularly filled with sunshine either, but he wasn't doing this, at the very least. He gives her a count down, three to zero, and then apparates. They arrive in the reception area, and Jimmy staggers, struggling to hold up Olive before moving to a pair of chairs. "I - er. I'll talk to the Welcome Wix, if you want. But I have to know what's wrong."
julie’s ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to refind the magic in music. luke’s about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run hight. now they’ve just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.
days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter)
chapter one | chapter two
trigger warnings!! alcohol and swearing and mentions of blood via food
also on ao3 (link in replies)
“I still can’t believe you didn’t kiss him,” Flynn’s voice echoes through her phone where it’s propped against a book of Shakespeare’s poems and being stopped from sliding down her desk by her half eaten sandwich. Which hadn't been her best plan, because she was starving and now her sandwich was employed elsewhere.
“I’m not just going to kiss a random guy a met once,” she can see Flynn opening her mouth with a retort so jumps in to add, “I like him, yes, but I’d rather have him as a friend then an awkward one night stand situation that’s made even more awkward when I eventually run into him again because one of his bandmates is Carrie’s cousin.”
It all seems perfectly logical to her. Luke was cute, yes. And sure, she’d wanted to kiss him, but if it came down to one kiss or a new friendship? She was going to choose friendship. They’d connected more in one night then she’d connected with anyone in years. They got each other.
(What Julie hadn’t told Flynn or Carrie or anyone, was about the deal they had made. About how if by December, when she was wrapping up her year in England and they were finishing with their album and they were still talking, still felt the same, they’d try.
Julie didn’t mention it to anyone, barely even liked to think about it herself because she didn’t want to jinx it, didn’t want to spend time wondering what might happen when they tried. What trying even meant.)
“So you’re going to be friends?”
It’s pretty impressive, Julie thinks, how Flynn can convey her utter disbelief and amusement via a single eyebrow raise on a slightly blurry and pixelated facetime call. Maybe it’s the years of friendship that means Julie knows what she’s not saying or maybe it’s just Flynn’s power. Either way it has her pushing her laptop away with a sigh and picking up her phone. Scooping her sandwich up with her other hand.
“Yes, we’re going to be friends. We can be friends. Do you not think we can be friends?” Julie furrows her brows, both in concern and how many times she’s said the word ‘friends’ in one breath.
“Of course I think you can be friends! He’d be lucky to be your friend, you’re amazing,” Flynn is quick with her reassurance, but Julie can tell there’s a ‘but’ coming and braces herself for impact. “But. The two of you spent practically the whole night together and have spent pretty much every day since talking. Plus, you’d have to be pretty blind to miss the way he was looking at you in the least friend way possible.”
Julie really hoped that the wifi connection was bad enough to hide the blush she could feel heating her cheeks at the reminder of the way Luke had looked at her. She had never really understood what books meant by ‘intensity of their stare’ before, but she was pretty sure it was whatever Luke was doing with his face and his eyes, somehow he could even do it through a facetime call. Personally, she thinks it should be illegal. His whole face. Banned. Fined every time he looked like he looked.
“Yeah, well,” Julie swallowed, tucking hair behind her ear for something to do while she tried to gather her thoughts and control her face. “We’re still going to be friends. And anyway, we’ll probably slowly stop talking before we ever meet again and he’ll find some extremely pretty girl on tour and fall madly in love and forget all about me.”
As long as she was telling herself that it meant she couldn’t be too disappointed when it came true. No point getting her hopes up.
“If you say so,” Flynn didn’t sound convinced and Julie rolled her eyes at her friend, sticking her tongue out childishly, to be rewarded with Flynn laughing.
“Now come on, enough about me and my awful love life. Tell me about this thing you're working on!”
It’s not really the first thing you want to hear when you accept a phone call at 8am. Julie blinks at her phone as she pulls it away from her ear to double check the caller id and that she hadn’t imagined it ringing. But there’s Luke’s name and his slightly blurry photo staring back at her.
“Luke?” She asks, hears the sounds of a scuffle on the other end like someone juggling too many objects at once.
“Julie! Hey! Sorry, just spilt one of my coffees. Is black pudding made with blood?” Luke’s question catches her off guard. Her mind is still trying to process the mention of multiple coffees that it takes her a moment to register what he’s asking her. And it just causes more confusion to her half asleep mind.
“Are you really calling me at 8am to ask about black pudding? Why are you even awake?” She groans, collapsing back against her pillows and pulling the covers back up to her chin. It was Friday, she didn’t have class until 1pm, she was supposed to get to sleep late and he’d woken her up.
To talk about black pudding. Idly, she wondered if it was too early in their friendship to just hang up without it seeming too rude.
“Last night Reg said it was like haggis, but that doesn’t make sense, does it? Because I swear haggis is like, sheep. And you’d think blood pudding would be, y’know, blood. Given its name.” He kept talking away, apparently not at all discouraged by her lack of response.
Julie let her eyes fall shut as she listened to him talk, to his voice and not really what he was saying. He had a very nice voice, it was kind of soothing, letting his excitement and enthusiasm wash over her. How could someone be so enthused about a random food at 8am? Julie struggles to follow his train of thought and why she was his chosen person to call about the matter. But she doesn't think he really wants her input anyway. Just an excuse to call her.
She’d been guilty of a similar thing. Calling him for no real reason other than the fact she’d wanted to talk to him. At least when she’d called it had been at a reasonable hour and about something more interesting than a weird food dish.
“How long have you been up?” Julie cuts through his rant on weird British dishes, stifling a yawn against her covers.
“Er…” there’s a pause, phone line crackling as he seems to think, “Like an hour? I went out to get the boys coffee, because I’m super nice like that, but they were still asleep when I got back and I tried to wake ‘em up but Alex threatened to throw my guitar out the window so I wandered around the hotel for a while, drank my coffee, then I drank Alex’s as revenge, and then I got bored of walking around so now I’m sat in a park and talking to you. And drinking Reggie’s coffee. It’s the worst one. I hate oat milk.”
Julie can almost picture him, sitting on a random bench in a random park somewhere in Edinburgh, notebook and tangled headphones and three empty coffee cups next to him, all jittery caffeinated energy. It makes her smile and huff out a small laugh.
“You’re going to be so insufferable after all that coffee. They might kick you out of the band, abandon you somewhere in the highlands,” she teases.
“I’d just keep showing back up. Every time they tried to lose me I’d just show up again at the next venue with no explanation,” there’s a smile in his voice and Julie takes a moment to appreciate that she can tell. That they’ve talked enough now that she knows what he sounds like when he’s smiling, when he’s joking.
“Go eat something with your fourth coffee please. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Shit, did I wake you up again? I thought you had a 9am on Thursdays.” He sounds so genuinely confused and concerned that Julie tries really hard not to laugh.
“I do. But it’s actually Friday, not Thursday.”
There’s a silence on the other end of the line and for a moment Julie thinks that maybe he’s hung up on her, but then he’s letting out a breathy laugh and she relaxes back against her mattress.
“Well fuck. That explains why they guys are still asleep and got pissed when I tried to wake ‘em up then.”
“Tour life is really messing with your days of the week, huh?”
“You’ve no idea,” There’s another pause and she hears rustling and footsteps and then, “I’ll let you go back to sleep. Talk later?”
There’s a note of hesitation in his voice and it makes Julie want to smile, so she does. “Yeah, talk later. Bye Luke.”
Julie spins around and around underneath a streetlight, her eyes locked above her as she watches the streams of light turn with her and make stars dance across her vision. A slight breeze blows her hair around her face and Julie lets out a laugh, light and airy like how she pictures all the bubbles in the drinks she's had tonight.
She closes her eyes against a wave of dizziness and tries to imagine the stars.
There’s too many clouds in the sky for her to see the actual stars when she opens her eyes and it makes her pout, just a little. She likes to see the stars, to try and find constellations, and when she couldn’t do that, to make up her own.
Her phone makes a chiming sound in her hands and she whips her head down to look at it, Luke’s face filling her screen with a small frown, his eyebrows drawn together and a hair sticking up. A wide smile breaks out across her face and Julie raises her phone so it’s level with her face, even as she still spins around.
“Luke! Why are you on my phone?” Distantly, Julie knows she must be almost shouting, but she’s too happy and too drunk to really care.
“Er, you called me?” Luke sounds confused, but as Julie blows hair out of her face a small understanding smile tugs at Luke’s lips and Julie’s momentarily distracted by watching as the smile spreads across his face, reaching his eyes, one of his hands appearing in frame to push his hair out of his face. She stumbles to a stop, feeling a little dizzy from all her spinning and pounding heart.
“I did?” She doesn’t remember doing that, for a moment Julie frowns, lips pulling to the side as her eyes look at the ground before she blows out a breath and shrugs, looking back at Luke’s face on her phone. “Well, hi! We went out for drinks!"
Julie watches as Luke sits up in his bed, a light flicking on next to him and lighting up the room.
(In the morning, when she remembers this, she’ll probably feel bad about waking him, knowing his sleep schedule is already a mess. But right now, standing in the street halfway back to her dorm, two of her friends chatting a short distance away and a cute guy looking at her from her phone, she can’t really find it in her to feel bad. Just a giddy type of happiness.)
“You having a good night?” His voice is a little rough with sleep she notices, adds a gravely note to it that’s not normally there. Julie really wishes she could hear him talk like this all the time, first thing in the morning, in the middle of the night when one of them wakes up, after a nap in the middle of the day.
“The best! It would be more fun if you were here, though,” the words stumble past her lips without her even realising what she’s said. And she doesn’t notice the way Luke’s breath seems to catch through the speaker or the way his eyes widen a fraction or the way his smile turns more into a smirk. Whatever he’s about to respond with is cut off by Julie’s mind returning to her original disappointment of the night.
“You can’t see the stars here.”
Luke frowns a little and Julie tilts her phone so the camera is facing up and only the top of her head and her curls are in frame.
“See? No stars, only streetlights.” She pouts, tilting the phone back towards her with an exaggerated pout on her face that makes Luke laugh and Julie pout more. “Why are you laughing!? That’s mean! I miss the stars and you’re laughing!”
“Jules, it’s not like you can really see the stars all that much back home either,” he says it gently, but there’s still that teasing tone in his voice and hearing him call her ‘Jules’ makes butterflies form in her stomach.
“I still miss them.” She mutters, blowing out a breath and conceding the point. She’s honestly too drunk to even fight it and for a moment she sways slightly in place, her eyes staring just above her phone as she gets lost in her thoughts.
About stars and cute boys with calloused fingers and her friends who made her laugh and her mom who had taught her about constellations and how tired she suddenly feels.
“When we’re both back in LA I’ll take you somewhere you can see all the stars,” Luke says softly, so softly she almost misses it, but her eyes flicker down to the screen and lets a soft smile pull at her lips.
“I’d like that.”
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The Gotham Princess [Daminette] Chapter 2:
Lila Rossi.... the liar finally showed up. What lies will come out of her fucking mouth this time...
"I'm sorry Miss Bustier, M.S. asked me to help her choose her new design that I didn't even realize the time!" She said putting her crocodile tears. That made my friend gag including me.
"It's okay Lila, just don't be late next time" the shit teacher said. Lie-la smiles(I don't want to imagine this) and went to her sit next to Adrien due to her 'hearing problem'.
"As I was saying earlier before I got interrupted... OUR CLASS IS GOING FOR A TRIP TO GOTHAM!!!! Be here tomorrow morning at 7:30 sharp, okay??" She excitedly said. Oh, that's mean I got pick. LUCKY!!!!. The class cheered and shouted yes until it was ruined by the oh so kind Lie-la.
"Yeah, I convinced my 'Dami-boo' to give us this trip since we haven't seen each other in 7 years" Lie-la lied again. The class thank her as she just said, "No problem guys!". Apparently, she said her 'Dami-boo' is none other than her boyfriend, Damian Wayne. I know I know, what a lying bastard. Using others popularity just to have her own. Oh well, what can I say. It's fucking Lie-la that we're talking about.
I looked at 'Gami and said, "You jinx it" She laughed follow by the group. "What are you losers laughing at???" Asked by an angry Cesaire. We decided to ignore them.
"Are you all deaf?!??!, I said what are you laughing at?!?" The worst reporter yelled stomping towards us. We finally decided to pay attention to her.
"Well, Cesaire. I have a one question?" Chloe asked her. "What Chloe-brat???" She responded irritated. "If we asked you that question when you and Lie-la's were laughing, will you answer us???" Chloe finally asked her question. "No-" "Exactly!, so don't but in our business cause you're no where near the word and the meaning of 'Important'!" Chloe said cutting of the worst reporter. We stood up and picked up our items.
"Excuse us!" We all said as we left the room that is full of idiot and a shit of a teaher.
We walked until we reached the entrance of the school. "Are we skipping???" Luka asked. We looked at each other. "Heck yeah!!" We all chanted at the same time. "I say we go for ice cream" I said as the rest nodded and we went to André for ice cream.
"Hi Marinette!" Andre said as we arrive. "Hi Andre" We all chanted together again. Andre smiles. "So, what are you all doing outside???, I remember that you are all supposed to be at class at this time" he asked us. "Well.... story short, Lie-la lies and the our idiot classmates believes it" I said as we sat down near his ice cream cart/stand. "I see.... so who wants ice cream?" He said and asked as we raised our hands.
Andre gave them their own ice cream basically describing their other half. Luka with Kagami and Nino with Chloe. Shocking???, probably. We are kinda surprise when they told us they were dating. Alya hated Chloe more than me... At least that's what I think since Nino broke up with her. She's being a little salty. Screw it!!! She is being SUPER salty about it!!.
They're lucky that they already found their other half/soulmate. Both a super hero. Yes, you heard it right. They are now permanent miraculous holders. Luka is Viper, same costume but a litter more darker. Nino is still Carapace but without the hood. Kagami become the kitsune holder, She is called Kitsuna. Her costume is amazing, it has nine tails at the back and she has a pair of ears at the top of her head. Her mask is color white. Basically, her costume color is white and orange. Chloe still have the bee miraculous but of course she change her hero name. She is now called Honey Bee. Her costume is still the same but there is now skirt above the knee length. It consist of yellow, orange and black color. Mine has a big difference. It also have a skirt. My shoulder is exposed and a pair of red gloves. So many things have been change since Lie-la appeared 5 months ago. I'm happy that it leads like this. I hope it stay for eternity.
I was lost in thought that I didn't notice my friends and Andre are calling for my attention.
"MARI-BUG!!!" Is what broke me from my thoughts. I feel a stingy feeling at my left cheek. "Ow!, yes?" I asked gently rubbing my left cheek. It seems like Chloe slaps me to broke me out of my thoughts. "We've been trying to get your attention for like 3 minutes now!" Chloe irritatedly said. Oooopppss! Hahahaha. "So what are you even thinking about Mari??" Asked Luka. "Hmmm... I'll tell you all later" I said to them. I looked at Andre. "So Andre, any change in my Ice Cream?" I asked. Andre's eyes lit up as he said "Ahhh, yes yes yes. Come here Marinette" I walked after him. "Hmmm.... dark chocolate for his dark past, mint for his eyes and another dark chocolate for his hair w/ dark chocolate syrup and chips" He said as he give me the Ice Cream. 'What a weird combination??' I thought. I took it as my friends come closer to me. "You've got a odd combination there Dudette" Nino said as the other nodded. "Also, do you have a thing for those who have green eyes??" Asked by Chloe. "Maybe???, I don't know Chlo" I said. "Anyways, thanks Andre" I said to our favorite Ice Cream Vendor. He smiles as he said "Your welcome".
We talked as we explore the place again. We eat, we play, and we joke around. It was fun that we forget the time. I looked at my watch to see that it was already 5:24 pm. I inform the group.
We starts to walk home as a group. Until we came to our stop. "Guys, tomorrow morning at 6:00. Be there w/ all the important things that you needed to bring. Don't be late" I said as they nodded. It's like this, I am the leader of the group even though I said that we don't have a leader. They convinced me by saying "It's only you Mari-bug/Mari-Hime/Mari/Dudette who is capable of being our leader". I have no other choice so I became their leader either it's in superhero costume or in our group.
"Okay, see ya guys!" We all said as we went home. Chloe and I arrive at our home, Papa/Jagged's house to be exact. "There are my princesses" Papa said as he saw us. "Papa!" We both shouted as we group hug. "Where's Clara?" I asked. "She's busy pacticing her song" He said. Ohhhh, ok. "Papa, we have a trip tomorrow at Gotham. We need to pack now" Chloe said. Papa nodded as we went to our room. We packed our most important items and went downstairs to eat dinner. After the dinner, we went to our rooms as we lay down at our bed. "Night Chlo" I said as she responded "Night Mari-bug" I close my eyes as I fell into a deep sleep.
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34 | I Hate You
Word count: 2.1k
A few hours ago I crawled over to one of the corners of the room curling myself into a ball to keep warmth. One of my arms drop to the floor and I draw in the small dust pile humming to myself. "Why are you in the corner?" Bellatrix comes into the room making me keep quiet. "Do you wanna talk now? I gave you a few hours to yourself." She bends down in front of me. "Thought you said same time tomorrow?" I glance up at her. "I did but I lied." She chuckles grabbing me by my hair pulling me back to the center of the room doing everything all over again.
"This would be so much more easier if you told the truth and didn't run." She sings as she makes tiny little deep cuts on my left arm around her initials. I had no energy in me to even cry anymore more which only made her upset finally leaving me for the night. I turn my head to look at my arm bleed from the cuts. I think I counted about twenty small ones but at the same time my brain was all hazy from the pain and hunger. As I continue to just lay out in the open I felt my eyes getting heavy finally falling asleep freezing.
For the next week or more for about three times each day Bellatrix would do the same routine on me. "Potter, his looking for Horcruxes and they aren't staying in one place they keep bouncing around hiding from everyone." I say as a tear falls as I stare up at the ceiling after she gave me a few seconds of a break from the Cruciatus Curse. "We're done here." She smiles leaving the room, "You may eat with us now." I still don't move my body not even a centimeter till Narcissa comes in and helps me to my room. "Here's some clothes to change into for dinner after you bathe." She says leaving my room.
After my shower I put on the dress Narcissa gave me, but I just hated how you could see some of the bruises on my legs from when she kicked me. Slowly I make my way out of my room then downstairs to the dining room. "You clean up well." Bellatrix smiles as I walk into the room. "Bella, my I have a word with you?" Narcissa asks her sister leaving the room. "Maddy, your back. What happened right here?" Draco comes into the room pointing at his face where I had a small cut and bruise. "Oh, umm, yeah. Nothing just got hurt while I was out." I say looking over at his father. "She just got here a few hours ago." He plays along and I guess they didn't tell him that the screams were coming from me. "Good to have you back." Draco takes a seat next to me as both women come back in.
"Why didn't you tell me Madeline got back a few hours ago?" Draco asks his mother. "I wanted to surprise you." I answer for her smiling at him and his parents nod their head as Bellatrix laughs. When we get our food I just look at my plate then at Bellatrix across from me. Part of me was scared to eat because she has tricked me bringing me a plate in the past. Then when I would try to take the slice of bread she would use a spell that hit me like a whip on my back, which left a few marks. "Aren't you hungry? You look like you haven't ate anything for weeks." She smiles at me. "I am... It's just, I'm not at the same time." I tell her making Narcissa look at the both of us. "Maddy dear, please eat." She begs me with her eyes so I slowly eat wanting to savor it.
Once we were all done eating at the table, the adults left Draco and I alone as we were walking to a different room. "Are you okay? You seem different." Draco says as we walk around. "Why do you say that? I'm fine." I laugh walking to their library. "You just seem slightly out of it." He says opening the door for me. "I just haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately." I say meaning it moving my hair back. "What's that?" He nods his head eyeing my collarbone. "Nothing just a scratch." I move my hair back walking away from him. "And the big bruises on your thighs?" I sigh, "I got hurt while fighting, okay." I say reaching for a book. "You're lying." He walks up to me making me move back fast confusing him. I try taking small deep breaths as I close my eyes trying not to cry choking up some. "What happened?" He grabs my left forearm making me cry out I pain pulling my arm close to me.
"I'm going to bed." I rush out with him following me. As I get to my room I close it on him locking the door. "Why are you running and hiding things from me?" He apparates into the room. "Draco, I just need space." I tear up. "Can I see your arm?" He looks at me holding it close to me. "No." I tell him but that doesn't mean anything to him. "Let me see." He takes my arm pulling the sleeve up then freezes looking at it. "See you see it now. Happy?" I ask him. "She?" Was all he could say. "I've been here for days Draco..." I slowly take my arm back. "That was you screaming in pain? I didn't know because I've heard so many different people." I nod my head sitting down on the bed.
"Yes, that was me. For the past week or more, I lost track, for about three times each day Bellatrix would do the same routine on me. She would grab my hair dragging me to the middle of the room and slam my head down. Use her dagger on me putting a lot of pressure on the blade slowly cutting me. Would carve deeper over what she already did, mostly her initials. Would kick me over whenever I curled into a ball. She has tricked me bringing me a plate in the past. Then when I would try to take the slice of bread she would use a spell that hit me like a whip on my back. Of course can't forget the Cruciatus Curse."
"Why did she do any of that?" Draco asks trying to process everything. "Punishment for running away, lying, and helping Potter." I smile laughing at myself. "I hate that you are yourself." Draco shakes his head at me. "Me too." I laugh lay my head on his shoulder. "Why are you laughing?" He takes my hand. "Because I'm dumb and I do things for people I care about knowing I'm going to be the one getting the punishment." Draco lays his head on top of mine, "As bad as the punishment was... You did what you did for a good cause. You helped Harry get away so he can hurry and find out how to end this." I move my head to look at him.
"Can I ask when you knew you didn't want any part of this anymore? Also why you wanted to be part of it in the beginning?" He nods his head. "Growing up my father talked about being up high along with you know who. I looked up to that but that all changed when I saw how that wasn't the case the second time around. During school as time went on I knew I was set up to fail no matter what." I nod my head now, "I have faith in Potter." I squeeze his hand.
"You don't look as dressed up as normally." Draco says as I walk into his room. "Is what I have on not good enough?" I ask looking down at myself. "No, you look fine. I mean they usually make you wear a dress." I let out a laugh, "True, but no one picked out a dress for me so I put this on. Plus it hides the marks on my legs, arms, and back." He walks up to me, "I still see this bruise and cut." He pulls my shirt up that fell off my shoulder. "And now you can't. Have I told you, you look like shit?" I joke with him. "No but I know I do. At least not as bad as my father." I nod my head, "Or as bad as me. I still look like I'm starving, and got attacked by a big cat that could kick." I laugh at myself again. "Draco, Maddy, you are needed downstairs." Narcissa opens the door and we do as we're told. "Also here's your wand back."
"Fancy her, do you, Scabior? Can't say I blame you. Maybe we'll work out a little reward for you, hm? That is, assuming all is as it appears. Ah, Draco, Madeline. Come here, Darlings." Bellatrix says as we enter at the far end of the room. As soon as I see Hermione and Ron I close my eyes letting out a sigh as we separate from his mother stepping cautiously forward. "My friends here say they've got Harry Potter. Seeing as he's an old school chum of yours, I thought you two could confirm the fact.
"Well?" She holds Harry's head back. "I can't... I can't be sure." Draco tells them. "I agree, I can't tell either." I say making Lucius step forward, wine glass sloshing, "Look close, son, Madeline." He grabs the back of Draco's neck. "If we're the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven. Do you understand." He explains to the both of us making Draco nod his head. I don't until I glance over at Bellatrix glaring at me. "Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" Scabior steps forward. "You dare to talk to me like that in my own house?" Lucius shouts making his wife come calm him down.
"Don't be shy, sweetheart. Get up nice and close." Bellatrix takes Draco's hand helping him get closer as I stay still. "I said up nice and close." Bellatrix tugs me over, grabbing my bad arm making me whine, before forcing me down next to Draco. "Now, if this isn't who we think it is, and we call him, he'll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure." She explains to us. I knew I wasn't going to give up Harry not after the shit I went through. Yes, I said what he was doing but that's different then having him right here. "What's wrong with his face?" Draco asks.
"Yes, What is wrong with his face,?" Bellatrix asks the others. "He came to us that way. I reckon he picked it up in the forest." Scabior tells her. "Or ran into a Stinging Jinx. Was it you, dearie? Give me her wand. We'll see what the last spell was." Bellatrix walks over to Hermione. "I got you." Bellatrix laughs then stops all of a sudden. "What is that?" Bellatrix's tone is quietly murderous. She pushes past Scabior and Greyback, steps before another Snatcher. Hermione's beaded purse dangles from one hand. In the other, he holds... the Sword of Gryffindor.
"Where did you get that from." She asks him. "It was in her bag when we searched her. Reckon it's mine now." Bellatrix stuns the Snatcher and catches the sword as he drops. "Are you mad!" Bellatrix drops him to his knees before yelling at all of them to get out. "Cissy, put the boys in the cellar. I want to have a little conversation with this one, girl to girl." She gets in Hermione's face. "No." Draco whispers as he sees me lean forward. "You've been quite, Madeline." Bellatrix turns to me. "Do you miss the fun?" She points her wand at me. "Bella, leave her alone." Narcissa speaks up.
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a gilded lie (ch. twenty-eight)
pairing: maxwell lord x f!reader (no y/n)
word count: 5k
summary: you ever forget to do something like turn off the oven? this is like that
warning: mentions of abusive relationship, a man envisions multiple ways to kill st*n, pure idiocy
previous chapters: masterlist
The walk from the parking lot to the doors of the museum had seemed like nothing. But then you and Diana had reached the stairs and you were reminded of that night.
How stupidly certain you had been in the brief moment after he had spoken those three little words. The confusion at his confessions, each becoming more and more telling of his true intentions. And then the desperation in his voice as you fled from the museum, trying to fly down the stairs and leave the whole night behind you.
And instead he’d come up in front of you, begging you to listen to his warped sense of purpose.
He had tried to use his powers on you, when he had known it wouldn’t work. Something that you had always assumed was a silent agreement. And then you wondered if it was a sign of his respect, of how much he lov—
He thought he did, but he didn’t.
You don’t use deception and trickery and honeyed words on someone you claim to love.
And now.... he did act differently. Something inside of him had changed. But you had been hurt too many times before by men who had made promises they never intended to keep.
That night had had too many unexpected surprises. First Barbara and her startling confessions and then Stan... claiming he really had changed, almost forcibly by his life’s upheaval. But he still had that same cruelty in his tone, the one you hadn’t noticed the first go around, too blinded by what you thought was love.
The night ending with Maxwell finding you and consoling you, never pressing for answers or prodding you for the history with Stan. Only worrying about why you were in the rain without a jacket and wrapping his scarf around you.
Which, you had worn today with your familiar tweed jacket. Diana had noted the new accessory and seemed to have an idea of where it had come from, but didn’t ask.
Oh right, Diana.
“Indy?” came Diana’s voice, the smallest twinge of nerves in her voice.
You had insisted on coming into the museum after the weekend you had had, saying it would clear your mind.
And it had, for a blissful moment. Until you approached the stairs and had an unpleasant reminder of what had caused your leave of absence in the first place.
Hearing Diana had snapped you out of your thoughts, temporarily forgetting the stupid suit-wearing conundrum.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, realizing she had started to walk up the stairs without you until she noticed your missing presence.
“You don’t have to, you know,” Diana said sympathetically.
“I do. Because otherwise he wins. And like hell I’ll let that bastard win,” you frowned, walking up the stairs, holding the railing as you passed the spot you stared into the ground, wishing Maxwell would stop declaring things he didn’t mean.
“I don’t think he believes himself to be in competition with you, Indy. He just wishes for you to get better—“ Diana started, confused.
You blinked, realizing she thought you meant Maxwell.
“No, I don’t mean him. I meant Stan. He thinks he can scare me off by spewing some bullshit about taking Edwards job—“
Your heart stopped.
“No, no he’s not. Edwards’ll have to be carted out of that damn office. It’s practically his death bed. He’s said so. The man doesn’t know anything else—“
“And apparently his wife finally convinced him to take her on an extended vacation instead of receiving that oh so pleasant call,” Diana said grimly.
You frowned, restraining yourself from saying something too cruel about the elderly man.
“Why would I be in competition with Maxwell?” you asked, changing the subject.
Diana pressed her lips together, thinking of the last week, when you’d disappeared for half a day and come back with some excuse of being with Maxwell. Who, interestingly enough, had stopped bombarding her with calls asking for an update on you.
“Before... before, you seemed like you wanted to beat him any chance you could. You always had to have the ethical high ground, Indy. And while I will say you did, I don’t think it’s the best course of action with your newfound friendship.”
You paused, realizing Diana had more faith in Maxwell than you had thought.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to pick a fight with him in a restaurant anytime soon.”
Diana smiled to herself, clearly thinking about something.
“But you’d go with him? Like a—“
“I can’t, Diana. Not... not yet. You and Steve were right, he is different. He gets this look in his eyes when he thinks I’m not looking and it… it scares me a little, if I’m honest. I’ve never… no one’s ever looked at me like that. How am I supposed to react when he glances at me with that hopeful glimmer, thinking today’s the day I see him for all the changes he’s made, and not the mistakes I keep reliving?” you finished with a question, though you doubted anybody really had the answer.
A group walked up to the entrance of the museum, and Diana pulled you to the side, realizing you were too deep in your own head to move out of the way.
“You’re reacting perfectly normally, Indy. I honestly didn’t think you’d let him so close to you so soon, if I’m being truthful. You… you know how to hold a grudge, and you would have every reason to hold one against him,” Diana said.
She was right, you would have held a grudge against him for far longer. Hell, you probably would have written him off completely… if you hadn’t had those small moments together. Peeks around the curtain, you guess you could call them. Seeing parts of him that weren’t just what he showed the world, that there was more than the self-obsessed charismatic businessman he put on display.
“Well… it helps that in the end he did listen to me,” you mumbled.
Diana narrowed her eyes in confusion.
“I told him, after everything had fallen apart that he… he needed to make a different choice,” you explained.
You both were silent for a beat, watching families and the like trickle into the museum, thinking of your words.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, Indy, but I think you really did leave an impact on him. And I don’t think he’s changing because he thinks it’s the only way to earn your trust back. I think… from the moment he watched you get carted off into the hospital, unable to do anything, he told himself that he wasn’t going to be anything but a terrible reminder of your past. And now he’s just trying to be the person you liked the most, because it might be the only part of you he gets to hold onto.”
You frowned at the thought.
“Why did he write a letter to me, Diana? If you all really thought I wasn’t going to, you know...why would he do that?” you asked, leaning against one of the pillars of the museum.
“He… he thought he’d jinx it all if you woke up, I suppose. And he’s not exactly the best at expressing himself. You two have more in common than you think,” Diana snorted.
Something clicked in your mind.
“That… that’s what I yelled at him. Right over there,” you glanced to the stairwell. “That we didn’t have anything in common and so it didn’t matter. I guess I was wrong.”
“On the surface, you don’t. There’s absolutely nothing one would see between the two of you. But when you dig a little deeper, you can see the care you both have for those around you. How neither of you can let something go until you’ve unraveled every mystery. And your ability to verbally pummel someone can’t be left out,” Diana gave you a hint of a smile and you just rolled your eyes.
In truth, you hadn’t given it much thought.
Maxwell wasn’t like other men you’d dated, and it wasn’t because he was some sort of outlier. He had bad qualities in him, just like any other person. His temper could be awful, he didn’t like to lose, and sometimes it felt like you lived on two entirely different planes of existence. You still didn’t know what could drive a person to give up everything in a crazed attempt at a power grab.
No… that wasn’t true. You did. You knew it in the artifacts you cleaned and the scrolls you translated and the histories you had read on men across the centuries.
Maxwell was like many men who came from wealth and power: afraid they would have no influence on the world once they were gone. Some men saw that it didn’t matter, that they would be remembered by those that knew them and how they treated their fellow men. But some… some descended into a madness no one could contain.
And you knew how their stories ended.
“Sometimes the ones that are supposed to love us the most end up hurting us the most,” Diana started.
You looked at her, crossing your arms in frustration.
“He didn’t have to--”
“I don’t mean you and Maxwell, Indiana. I meant the late Maxine. She was supposed to be a caretaker, an encourager to him. And instead she filled his head with too high of expectations and a cruel, calculated take on the world. That doesn’t excuse his behavior… it just explains why he would be willing to do anything to amass power. And… after many, many conversations with him on the subject, I think I realize why it broke him in such a way. When I was a child, everyone around me knew that I was meant for greatness and kept it from me, to keep me safe. I had people who cared for my well-being, who only wanted to see me grown. He… didn’t have that.”
“But he had Gladys--” you began, a little uncertain of where your argument was going.
“Yes, his father’s secretary. It didn’t matter that she was the only one who ever came to school functions or drove him home or seemed to be the only one who cared. A child will do anything to earn the love of their parents. And when they don’t receive that love or the attention they deserve, they only try harder. In a convoluted way, this was his continued attempt to please them,” Diana explained.
“It still doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled.
Diana frowned, knowing you had a point but she had no answers to give.
“Maybe you should ask him yourself,” Diana offered.
You just grumbled in response.
Staring down at his desk, Maxwell couldn’t help but feel as if he was forgetting something.
Thanks to Gladys, the last month hadn’t gone as disastrously as he had feared. Things… hadn’t been going too well, before then, either. He kept things to himself and tried to act as if Lord Technology wasn’t hanging by a shoestring, but the moment he up and left the cracks started to show.
If he had been thinking clearly… no, that’s not true. The moment he learned Indiana had been taken, nothing else mattered. Not his wealth, not the poor financial choices he had made, or the fact he was running his father’s business into the ground.
Which was why he had tried so hard to take power from a god. He foolishly thought if he could take that kind of power, he could revitalize his company and keep his son--
He had forgotten something.
The elderly woman peered her head into the office, looking at Maxwell expectantly.
“Alistair comes home today… and I may have forgotten to do something,” he started quietly.
Gladys blinked, trying to think of what he could have--
“Oh, Maxwell,” she shook her head, “you didn’t.”
“Hey, in my defense this wasn’t supposed to be this way--”
“Right, you were just going to use Ingrid, become invincible, and then what? Tell Alistair the whole world was under new management? Your plan was terrible, Maxie,” Gladys rolled her eyes.
“Gladys, come on--”
“Not to mention the fact you’re now in love with said woman, and failed to even mention you had a son,” she tutted, sitting in one of the chairs across from his desk.
“Like I said, this wasn’t supposed to happen--”
“I know, Maxwell. That doesn’t mean you don’t have to address the problem.”
He sighed, sitting back in his chair and dragging a hand over his face.
“And that means telling both of them the truth. You have to tell her about Alistair and you have to tell Alistair about her and why you know her.”
Maxwell grimaced, “Tell him all of it?”
“No, Maxwell, not all of it. The PG version, preferably,” Gladys snarked.
“I just… I wasn’t ready to have this kind of conversation with him. I didn’t plan on having it, especially not now.”
Gladys softened her gaze, watching the man reconcile with his choices.
“Just because he’s a child doesn’t mean he didn’t expect you to move on, Maxwell. He wants you to be happy,” she said.
Maxwell snorted, thinking about how well that’s gone for him.
“And we’re oh-so-happy, aren’t we? Indiana’s barely able to look at me without reminding herself of all the tragedy that’s found her,” he frowned.
“And who’s fault is that?” Gladys raised an eyebrow.
Maxwell mumbled his response.
“Yes, Maxwell, yours.”
“How am I supposed to explain to her that I forgot to tell her about my own son? That seems a particularly large detail to omit, Gladys,” Maxwell said, wanting nothing more than to shuffle her out of his office, pull out the bottle of scotch in his desk and have a drink.
“Starting with the truth doesn’t seem that bad an idea. Just because she’s forgiven you for lying to her about… well, everything, doesn’t mean there wasn’t going to be any fallout. Especially when you only told her the parts of your life that were convenient to your lies,” Gladys gave him an expectant look, knowing he wanted to run from his problems.
“I wanted to carry on like nothing had changed, that we could skirt past the unpleasant parts of how we met. But… she was right. We did have to start over. How was I supposed to explain Alistair just appearing one day? That wasn’t fair to her, and it isn’t fair to him.”
Gladys glanced down, a change in her demeanor at the mention of his son.
“...he doesn’t know about Indiana, right, Gladys?” he asked, something akin to panic rising in his chest.
Her eyes grew just a smidge larger, and Maxwell had to stop his jaw from dropping.
“Well, there was one night he called the house, because you didn’t answer at the penthouse, and he was curious about where you were, and I couldn’t lie to him--”
“All he knows is that you were out… with a lady friend.”
“Yes, Gladys, and he’s the smartest kid I’ve ever met, he knows what that means,” Maxwell groaned, covering his face with his hands.
“He sounded happy about it, if that’s any consolation,” Gladys shrugged.
Maxwell just blinked.
“You talked to my son about my love life, Gladys,” he frowned.
“Well, it’s not like there was much of one to talk about before Ingrid,” she muttered.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Maxwell grimaced.
The ringing of the phone startled them both, and Maxwell looked from the phone to Gladys. She gave him a look that told him he had to pick up his own damn phone in his own office. Sighing, he reached for the receiver, hoping it wasn’t anything too unpleasant.
Maxwell pressed his lips into a hard line and tried not to think about the fact he and Gladys had just had an entire conversation about you.
“Indiana, is everything okay?” he asked, his tone softening.
“It is, I was just on lunch and I wanted to talk to you about--”
“You’re back at the museum?” he couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice.
You didn’t know why, but you felt a twinge of guilt for not telling him.
“Yes, well, I mean, I came in yesterday just to see… how everything felt and going into the office was fine so I decided I could come back in today. But if Diana even catches me looking remotely uncomfortable, she’s making me leave,” you explained.
“Good,” he said a little too quickly.
You let out an exasperated sigh, knowing he’d react the same as Steve and Diana.
“I’m not made of glass,” you countered.
“I know that, and so does Diana, but that doesn’t mean we don’t worry, Indiana,” he said quietly. Gladys seemed to get the hint that he wanted to be alone, but not without giving him a final look that said you better be honest with her.
He’d rather be honest with you in person than over the phone.
“I was wondering--”
“--do you want to get coffee?” he blurted, not even knowing what you were going to ask.
A brief silence on the other end made him worried he’d spoken out of turn or that you didn’t really want to spend more time with him, that the walk was a spur of the moment thing and you just panicked and called him. Or worse, you were realizing you didn’t actually like him all that much--
“Yes, I do,” you said brightly, and he swore he could hear your smile on the other end. “I… wanted to talk to you about what happened… while I was alone. I mean, I figure I told Diana, which means Steve knows more or less what happened. So… you deserve to know what happened on Circe’s island, too. Besides, it’s all a part of being honest with one another, right?” you finished less confident in your words, the nerves rising again.
He stilled, not realizing you were willing to be so open with him again… after everything.
“You’re right, it is. And speaking of honesty--”
A muffled voice came from the line, and Maxwell swear he heard the voice of--
“--Stan, what are you doing in here? I’m on the phone,” you clipped out, trying to cover the receiver but too overwhelmed by the fact he just thought he could wander into the office at any given moment.
He couldn’t hear the reply.
“Well, that doesn’t mean waltz in here whenever you feel like it,” you snapped.
Whatever the man said in response struck too close to home, because he swore he could feel you tense at the response.
“I know you are. Yes, I’m aware of what that means for me. No, it won’t happen again,” you muttered quietly.
“Indiana?” he asked, worried about whatever the man had said to you.
“Sorry,” your voice wavered, and if he didn’t know any better he’d say you sounded seconds from crying. “I… uh, yeah. Coffee sounds good. What were you going to say?”
He couldn’t mention Alistair now, or even broach the subject.
“He shouldn’t speak to you that way. He was filling in your position, why is he even still there?” Maxwell said, annoyed.
“He--well, actually he can, now, since he’s… he took over for Edwards,” you said quietly.
You were sniffling, he could hear it. And he wanted nothing more than to tell Stan to walk into incoming traffic or find himself drowning in the Potomac or walking until his feet bled--
“--it’s not worth it, Max.”
The sound of your voice snapped him out of whatever admittedly bloodthirsty spiral he had taken.
There had been one question on his mind since the bastard had arrived and caused you such turmoil. He knew Stan had hurt you, but you had never divulged anything beyond saying he had lied to you.
“Indiana… I hope this isn’t over-stepping, and you can tell me to shut up, if you want, but… what did that man do to you?” he asked.
You paused and sighed, knowing this would come up eventually with Maxwell. Stan’s voice filled your head, reminding you that Max had no reason to like you once he knew the truth. But… you wouldn’t know if you never told him. And lies hadn’t gotten your relationship or lack thereof anywhere.
“I, uh, well. It’s… not a pretty story,” you admitted.
“I think I can handle it,” he said encouragingly.
Nodding to yourself, you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from Stan’s rather… harsh entrance.
“I met him when I first started working at the Museum of Natural History. And… he seemed really nice, and funny, and we had a lot in common. After about a month, he asked me out and I said yes. I thought things were going well and I started staying at his place. What I didn’t know was that he’d gotten a separate place than where he actually lived,” you paused, trying to clear the lump in your throat. You’d only ever told Diana about everything. This was harder than you would have thought.
“One day…I was sleeping and woke up to the sound of yelling. As it turned out, his wife had found out about his Manhattan apartment. He… he had a wife and two kids living in Queens. And I never knew,” you said, feeling the shame rise up in you again.
Maxwell felt two things in that moment: anger and panic. He didn’t even know you could feel those two things at once, but here he was.
Get over yourself, Max, it’s not the same thing. You’re not married… anymore. And Alistair was at boarding school, not in some secret house.
“Indiana, I’m so sorry he led you on like that--”
“--it’s all my fault and I should have known or seen it coming or stopped it because I ruined a whole family’s life,” you could stop the tears now, just thinking of Stan saying you were at fault and if you had just made different choices things would be different.
Maxwell paused, realizing what you had said.
“Wait, you think you’re to blame for his family’s upheaval? Indiana, he lied to you and let you go on believing he was only yours when he was cheating on his wife and making his children nothing more than an afterthought,” he said, once again feeling the urge to throw Stan down a flight of stairs.
“I… I mean I’ve talked to Diana about it before, and she’s said the same thing. It’s just hard when he’s here and reminding me what he thinks is the truth, and what I thought was the truth. He lied to his wife, and told her I led her husband “astray”. He didn’t even wear his ring at work,” you hiccuped.
Forget the stairs, he was going to pay to have this man disappear and never bother you again.
That’s not a helpful solution, he reminded himself grimly.
“I’m sorry, Indiana. You never deserved to be treated that way,” he murmured.
“I mean, I know that now. It’s part of the reason… I’m still kind of upset with you,” you admitted, mindlessly playing with the phone cord out of anxiety.
Maxwell blanched, thinking of all he had ever done was lie to you.
“I know you’re sorry, Maxwell. And I know you actually took my advice and made a different choice. I just… don’t understand why you made any of the choices to begin with. What’s worth losing everything just for the chance of that kind of power?” you asked, more of a rhetorical question than anything.
“Nothing,” he admitted, knowing the longer he thought about it and the longer his son spent time away at boarding school, he hadn’t wanted that much power. He had just wanted a sense of security for his son. But he’d… looked at the problem with too much gravitas. Maxwell had a habit of doing that.
You paused, thinking he sounded more somber than usual.
“Maxwell, is something wrong?” you asked tentatively.
“No… yes. Something could become wrong, I guess,” he said.
You fought the urge to roll your eyes, “What did you do?”
“For once, it isn’t something I did. It’s something… I, well, it kind of slipped my mind.”
“Did you forget to cancel the Bond villain back-up plan, Bottle Blond?” you asked, a half-smile appearing.
“No, I--wait, did you just call me Bottle Blond?” he blinked in surprise.
“I guess old habits die hard. Talking to you on the phone, spinning in my office chair, calling you out for what is clearly a bad dye job,” you said cheekily.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I missed it. And… I did forget to do something. There’s someone very important to me that you haven’t met. He’s… well, you’ll see,” Maxwell tried explaining, telling himself he just needed to say he had a son and that whatever reaction you had to that information was warranted. He just… couldn’t get the words out.
You blinked in confusion, a little more than surprised at this confession. Meet someone? Who did Maxwell have in his life that you hadn’t met yet?
“If it’s your personal stylist, I’m giving him a few notes,” you said instead of whatever was currently floating in your head.
“Okay… then it’s settled. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop today after work?” he asked, worried you’d say no after his more than ominous reveal.
You still smiled to yourself, hearing Maxwell’s nerves get the best of him. You liked that you got to see this side of him and it really seemed like this was who he was, which comforted you.
“Yeah, Maxwell. I’ll see you then,” you agreed, thinking of the last time you had said goodbye and kissed his palm.
“Goodbye, Indiana,” he said, trying not to think of all the ways you could read this omission of the truth as him trying to play you again.
He didn’t get too far into that line of thinking, though, because the familiar sound of a young boy’s laughter could be heard coming down from the elevator hallway.
You knew Maxwell had said to meet at the coffee shop, but you and Diana had finished up at work earlier than you thought you would, so you’d told her goodbye and hailed a taxi, wanting to surprise Max at the office. You hadn’t been there since before… everything, either. And this was a good step, if he was your friend then stopping by his place of work wouldn’t be that out of the ordinary.
Yeah, for someone a little more than friends, dingus, your conscience couldn’t help reminding you.
You were getting pretty tired of arguing with yourself over what Maxwell was to you. But nothing worth doing was easy… and taking the easy out with Maxwell meant ignoring how he’d treated you. And you would never do that to yourself… not again.
Walking past that stupid golden statue you scoffed to yourself, deciding you’d offer some friendly outdoor decor advice. No one had to walk into his building, see that atrocity and actually take him seriously.
It was strange to come by at near closing time. There weren’t too many people around, and those that did seemed to recognize you from the last time you had come and didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Waiting for the elevator to come down, you tapped your foot. The longer you were here you were worried this wouldn’t be a nice surprise for Maxwell. Given what you knew about his company, he was probably too busy finishing up meetings or contracts or whatever people in technology did with their day.
You didn’t really know.
The elevator dinged and you stepped inside, watching the levels go up until you reached the top floor. Exiting, you looked around and saw the lights still on. So that meant somebody had to be here.
Turning the corner, you saw the door to Maxwell’s office shut and thought you could make out his and Gladys’ voices. Shrugging to yourself, you sat down in a chair by Gladys’ desk.
What you failed to notice was the small child sitting in her desk, reading a book thicker than your arm. He glanced up at you and the motion startled you. Looking up from playing with your hands, your jaw dropped.
You could only describe him as… tiny Maxwell? There wasn’t a tiny Maxwell, there was adult, man Maxwell who was in his office talking to his secretary because he was a fully grown man with a company and a car and a penthouse and--
and a kid.
Too preoccupied with the realization your not-boyfriend had a small doppelgänger with the same brown eyes and the same dimple and the same raised eyebrow you didn’t hear the door to Maxwell’s office open. You did hear Maxwell halt in the doorway, and Gladys nearly knock him over as she kept walking.
You’re almost certain you heard her say “I told you so.”
“Indiana-- I--what happened to meeting at the coffee shop?” Maxwell asked, exasperated.
The kid looked between you and Maxwell and Gladys and shook his head, apparently dissatisfied with the confused tension in the room.
“My name is Alistair, I’m eight years old, and I’m about 99.9% sure my dad didn’t tell you about me. That’s okay, I found out about you because of Grandma. She said you took him to a movie. That’s good, because he doesn’t really get out too much. It was nice to meet you!” in the span of a minute, Alistair had introduced himself, shaken your hand and waved goodbye as Gladys shuffled him out of the office, muttering about how one day Maxwell would actually listen to her.
You still sat shell-shocked, hearing Maxwell sit down beside you, nervously looking toward you.
“That personal stylist comment now feels cruel now that I know you meant an eight-year-old,” you finally said, bringing a hand to your temple.
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George Weasley x Female!Reader: Dreams [Pt. 2/2]
Summary: Ginny Weasley is a devious girl...not that you’re complaining.
Rating/Warnings: T (references to past suicide, mental illness, grieving, loss, and alcohol abuse, references to sex in the present)
Continued from Memory, as requested.
Tag List: @idontknowwhatthisisfam
“I can’t believe you bullied me into taking time off work just to stuff me in this getup, Gin. I thought we were friends.”
You stood in front of a mirror in one of the Burrow’s several (long-empty) bedrooms on a fine summer morning to find a horrendous vision in place of your reflection. Mere hours remained before her wedding, and Ginny Weasley had only just handed over your bridesmaid robes. They looked so awful on you that you almost thought she was playing a prank on you. Then she said:
“It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” You shifted on the spot, trying to find an angle from which you could believe her words. “I look like a bleached lethifold! Why can’t I have the same outfit as Luna?”
“That is the same outfit as Luna’s.”
“Why does she look so good in it?”
Ginny rolled her eyes before she met your gaze in the mirror. “Because she didn’t avoid coming to any of her fittings, and she’s been here since Thursday.”
Warmth crept into your cheeks, but you said nothing. What excuse did you have? You had avoided the fittings—and the rehearsal dinner and the bridal shower and everything else it was your duty as a bridesmaid to attend. Ginny knew that as well as you did. If she got upset, she was well within her rights to. Being Ginny, however, she seemed more amused at your expense than angry with your behavior. She shook her head and stepped over toward the door with her own dress robes rustling as she went.
“Mum can fix the worst of it. I’ll see if I can find her without running into Harry. Don’t you dare leave this room before I come back.”
Without waiting for you to agree, she disappeared down the narrow staircase outside the room. You turned back to your reflection with a sigh. If you weren’t such a coward, Ginny wouldn’t have been running errands on her own wedding day. If you weren’t such a coward, then her warning would have been necessary as well. As it was, you had no interest in leaving the bedroom. Just being inside the Weasley home was nerve-wracking enough. The idea of having to attend the service was downright frightening.
A knock at the door followed not long after. Expecting Mrs. Weasley to bustle over to you, you spun to greet her—only for someone else entirely to waltz right inside.
“Harry, I don’t know what you’re playing at in here, but Ginny says—” George came to an abrupt halt the second he spotted you. You couldn’t blame him, for you had frozen so completely that you might have been petrified. The effect of seeing him like that was so strong that you couldn’t even speak.
“You’re not Harry,” he said after an awkward pause. “Are you?”
You shook your head.
“I thought not. I’ve seen so many people polyjuiced to be him over the years that I’m a bit of an expert on what the real one looks like.”
This was exactly what you’d hoped to avoid by shirking your duties. All that dodging—you thought Ginny understood, but apparently not. You pushed past George without a word, gripped the doorknob just behind him, and yanked. It didn’t budge, so you pulled out your wand.
“Alohomora!” you cried. When you tried the handle a second time, nothing had changed.
“Awfully bold of you to assume Ginny wouldn’t think of that.”
You sucked in a breath as you whirled on the spot. The baggy clothes hanging off your shoulders threatened to slide right off from the momentum of such a gesture. Before you could so much as open your mouth to tell him where he could shove his observations, he lifted his hands and said:
“Don’t look at me. This wasn’t my idea. I’m just as much a victim here as you are.”
George Weasley was a lot of things, but a liar had never been one of them. You didn’t think two years would have changed that. Hardly anything else about him had. He looked almost exactly the same as he had throughout your school years, though definitely not exactly the same. There was a sadness in his eyes that had not faded over time. Perhaps it never would.
“You know, I don’t think they’re going to let us out until we talk,” he said pointedly.
Heat moved up the back of your neck for the second time in so many minutes. Just how long had you been staring at him? George certainly wasn’t staring at you!
“They’ll have to,” you argued. “The ceremony starts in a couple of hours. Your mum still has to fix my dress robes!”
“Ginny doesn’t make much fuss. She probably won’t mind if neither of us show up.”
He wasn’t wrong. After attending Bill, Percy, and Ron’s weddings, Ginny could just as easily have gone without all the bells and whistles in place for that day. Mrs. Weasley had been the one to insist on her only daughter having a proper service. A couple of missing party members—or one present wearing a frilly sack—wouldn’t bother Ginny one bit.
“Talk about what?” you asked, now semi-hysterical. You didn’t want to talk to George. You didn’t know how.
His hand gripped your shoulder in such a familiar fashion that it brought tears to your eyes. Thank Merlin you had enough wits about you to wrench free of George’s grasp—though not enough to avoid collapsing into an ugly puddle of fabric there on the floor. You tried without much luck to convince yourself you still looked more dignified that way than hyperventilating the way you had been before.
To your great distress, however, George followed you to the ground. You looked anywhere but at his face. Two years. You’d managed two years without running into him once. Now all of a sudden, he wouldn’t leave you alone.
“I know what we can talk about,” he said.
There was nothing else for it. You had to bite, unless you wanted to be trapped in that room until Victoire got married. “What’s that?”
“How awful I was the last time we saw each other.”
“What do you mean, what?”
“What are you talking about?” you demanded. “I was the one that was horrible to you.”
George let out an incredulous laugh. “That’s not what happened at all.”
“I told you to stop mourning your brother.”
“And I told you my pain was worse than yours.”
Well, he had done that. As the memory of that day—the oppressive smell of liquor, the hot sun streaming into the flat, the sound of George vomiting into the loo—rushed through your mind, you stared blankly at the wall. You weren’t going to cry. Not on Ginny’s wedding day. Even if she had wasted all your efforts to avoid so much as seeing your ex-boyfriend.
“I’m sorry,” came his soft voice.
You wrenched your gaze back to the present to find George still next to you. He hadn’t moved away at all. If anything, he had scooted closer. The smallest motion from you would cause your elbows to brush.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You were right. I needed to go to Saint Mungo’s. I…wasn’t right in the head.
“You’d just lost your closest friend. Anyone would have been crushed in your position. I should have—”
“No, I should have. I should have known you were hurting, too. I should have made time for your grief.”
For a moment, all you could do was eye George in wonder. He wouldn’t be the same man you’d known and dated at Hogwarts. That was impossible. You knew he would be more serious now, less apt to joke around without his partner crime at his side. But an apology? After you broke up with him so suddenly and stormed out of his life?
“Where is this coming from?” you asked.
“It’s always been there. I wanted to tell you then. The minute you left, I wanted to run after you, but I thought, given the circumstances…”
“That I’d jinx you first and ask questions later.” He nodded. “I would have. But you never tried to find me after. You never even sent me an owl.”
He smiled a smile you would have called sheepish, had it been on anyone else’s face. “Can you blame me for being ashamed?”
“I suppose not. I never tried to owl you either.”
“Why would you? I was so…nasty.”
“I forgave you a long time ago.”
“Really?” George lifted a single red brow. “Then why did you skip all of Ginny’s things?”
“Because…because I didn’t think that you would forgive me.”
“How in Merlin’s name could I not forgive the love of my life?” he asked impatiently.
A strange rushing sound filled your ears. You could feel the blood pooling in your cheeks. George sat there, cool as a flobberworm, while you could only open and close your mouth repeatedly.
“Love?” you squeaked at last.
He nodded again.
“You…you can’t. Ginny told me. You’re dating Angelina Johnson. You two met up at one of Kingsley’s grief sessions.”
“That was ages ago.” He laughed a familiar, somewhat mocking laugh at your expense. It sounded too nice for you to chastise him for it. “Gin’s really kept you in the dark, hasn’t she? Angelina and I didn’t date long. It was too weird. I think we both half-expected I was going to morph into Fred any second. But why would it matter to you anyway, if I was seeing Angelina?”
His devilish grin made it clear that he already knew. They all already knew, but he was going to make you say it out loud anyway. The mortification was enough to make you consider not confessing at all—but not very seriously and not for very long. The secret you had carried with you across a dozen different countries burned to be released.
“Because I’m still in love with you,” you said, “and I don’t want to see you with another person because of all the horrible things I said.”
Of all the actions you expected George to take after that, none of them were for him to kiss you the way he did. He cupped your face between his palms and pressed his lips right to yours, like it hadn’t been two years since you’d seen one another, like you weren’t wearing the stupidest outfit his sister could imagine. One thing still bothered you, though, even once he let you go:
“Are you telling me Ginny tricked me into talking to you just to get us back together?”
“I'm willing to bet it wasn’t just her in on the trick,” George said, and as he did, the door opened to allow Mrs. Weasley to come bursting inside. You caught a glimpse of four other heads of red hair before the people they belonged to hastily apparated away. There was no chance to go after any of the Weasley siblings before their mother was upon you. Her eyes were wet. You barely had time to take that in before she swept you up into a warm hug.
“Oh, [Name], we have missed you,” she cried. “It’s so good to have you as a part of the family again. What are you wearing?” she added, pulling away.
George snickered as you looked down at the shapeless mass in confusion. “My dress. Ginny sent you to make adjustments to it.”
“Don’t be silly. How could that be? It doesn’t look a thing like Luna’s.”
“Why am I not surprised,” you muttered darkly.
Mrs. Weasley did not appear to notice your tone. She marched over to the room’s tiny closet, rummaged for all of ten seconds inside it, then turned back with a normal-sized set of dress robes.
“Here we are. Now put this on so I can make any necessary adjustments. The ceremony starts in in just under two hours, you realize. George—”
“I’m leaving. Wouldn’t want to see any of your naughty bits yet, [Name]. Save that for after the reception.”
But he only grinned and winked at you before he left. His mother could not apologize enough for his crudeness, no matter how often you told her such apologies were unnecessary. George was George and he still loved you—not to mention that you didn’t have to spend the rest of the evening in that hideous gown. By the time you followed Luna up the aisle and saw George looking your way, you were ready to give the whole day up as a dying dream.
It was not. When you woke up the next morning, George was still there—and the morning after that, and the morning after that, and the morning after that. You’d both lost enough time and loved ones to know there wasn’t any such thing as a happily ever after…but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be any happiness for the two of you at all.
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Higurashi Gou Liveblog: Episode 4
And we open with more excellently-done scenes of terror. Loving this vibe. Keiichi seems a lot less manic than he did the first go around though? Like its actually been a bit since I’ve rewatched the first season, but I’m pretty sure by the fourth episode he was feral and ready to cut a bitch and here he’s just super on edge.
KEIICHI HAS A JAWLINE.
Oh what have we here. The clinic’s undergoing some kind of remodeling? Twenty bucks says that has something to do with Tomitake and Takano’s new form of disappearance.
“You’ll need to head to another clinic” this guy says like they aren’t six hours deep into rural mountains.
And Keiichi no longer has his jawline.
“Why are you acting like I’m dying or something?” BOY YOU GONNA.
Mion continuing to wingman like a good friend.
I also feel like Mion and Satoko are the only ones not reading the tense lines of suspicion in this room. Rika knows that shit’s up, Keiichi is being textbook Hinamizawa Syndrome in its early stages, and Rena is possibly breaking through the fourth wall of her own memories.
Oh shit is Rika going to try and therapize him?
Rika is a good time-traveler who remembers her mistakes and her lessons. Look at her putting them to good use in nudging Keiichi out of Hinamizawa Syndrome.
AW ITS WORKING.
“You’re an unreliable narrator Keiichi we learned this like eight arcs ago. Do not trust your gut instinct.”
This is so wholesome, how soon until it all goes wrong.
YES KEIICHI REALIZE YOUR FAILURES AS A PERSPECTIVE-HOLDER!
Wait a sec we saw imagines of Rena getting her fingers crushed in the door during a teaser.
“Don’t worry I won’t die on you” KEIICHI NO DON’T JINX YOUSELF LIKE THAT.
Ah here we go. That’s a creepy-ass smile.
Keiichi fight your feelings of paranoia. I know its not gonna work ‘cause we see him smash her fingers, but c’mon man, try a little here.
Oh this is fun. Look at him flashing back and remembering what he did.
AND HE OPENS THE DOOR FOR HER YES.
Aw and he gives her a hug. I’m loving this. How soon until it goes wrong.
Oh its going wrong already. Shadowed eyes and being alone in the kitchen, that’s going to be fun.
WAS THAT A FUCKING HACKSAW.
She literally brought tools to murder him what the fuck. Rena what the fuck.
How is it that they had even worse animation some decades later. The way she scratched at her neck was so bad, the first series at least made their scratches look realistic.
Okay I understand the logic but what does that have to do with her dad- oh she thinks they need to appease the curse, I get it.
Take the knife away Keiichi. You knocked her out now take the knife away. Take the knife away you dumb fuck –and of course he gets stabbed.
You cannot kill someone like that with a plastic clock.
Why are you censoring this guys. And with a lazy black splotch as well.
Okay who’s gonna kill who first.
That is a shitton of blood holy fuck. Are they both dead?
Okay I appreciate this but how the heck is Keiichi still alive. Rena should’ve perforated every damn organ in his body by that point. There was too much damn blood for anyone to have survived that.
OISHI NO DON’T WALK AWAY FROM THE SURVIVOR IN THE HOSPITAL THEY ALWAYS DIE AFTER YOU LEAVE!
Okay he’s fine, apparently. That’s weird.
OHO. Rika and Satoko died? Oh this is very interesting –and killed with a knife in the throat? Like what happened with Shion in Eye-Opening? Hmm-hmm-hmm…
That nurse is gonna kill him, ain’t she.
OH FUCK A NEEDLE. And the questions, this is Takano in disguise isn’t it?!
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