#i keep phrasing the start of a coherent post in my head and then getting sidetracked by absolutely fjcking losinf it over something else | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tisthedamngreenbriar · 9 months

Text

windows boarded up after the storm, he built a fire just to keep me warm.

guys i'm so embarassed. so. i wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge, BUT THE JULY ONE. and as you may notice it is september already.

in my defense, i kinda started this one and then completely abandoned it on my drafts and never once looked back. but now is here! kinda! this is my first time ever writing a challenge, and also my first time posting my writing in here!! for the sprint challenge july 2023, I chose the social media prompt + one of the prompts from previous challenges (hope that was allowed??)

this is neither polished or revised, just fresh out the notes app so you guys will have to forgive me for errors. i fully intend to develop this aswell, but we'll see.

enjoy!

***

It was supposed to be small. A simple get together for their group, with cake and booze to celebrate Rose's birthday. But, now they were in a mansion one hour out of town and Marinette was pretty sure she could smell something burning.

But, first things first: lets not get ahead of ourselves.

***

Moving everything was a pain in the ass. They'd to be quick and through so no food or garnment was neither damaged nor left behind - also watch out for the worst case scenario, harming sound equipament -, and the threat of the storm was making Marinette mimic the thunders, rumbling with anxiety. With everything already packed in the cars, they went on their merry way, with Adrien leading the path out of the city.

The blonde boy really was an angel. Offering to take the party to his country house when the weather became Marinette's worse enemy was so kind that the bluenette's heart fluttered a bit, reminding her why she used to have that stupid and exponentially big crush on him all those years ago. Not that that meant anything: her romantic organ also gave a little jump seeing him help Kagami, his long term girlfriend, into the car. Affection just made her goofy.

Getting to the estate was easy, since the rain wasn't really pouring yet and the traffic was on their side, for a change. Obviously, it was huge, because the Agrestes never failed in that department, and everyone immeadiately? started setting everything up on the patio behind the main house and in front of the guest one, so they could use it for bathroom breaks and personal items since no one was willying to wander in the Agreste's mansion and risk scarring his perfectly put everything. The rain didnt seem to follow them so atleast it was safe to be outside.

And then there was Luka. Going around helping out everyone, smilling and whistling to himself. Luka who was just as oblivious to her as Adrien had been, cause apparently that was just her luck.

"Girl, stop staring, Jesus" Alya's voice broke off any coherent line of thought that Marinette could have formed, startling the smaller one. "You're gonna burn holes on that poor boys back"

"Am I that bad, or is it possible that you are just a drama queen hoping to live uncomfortable situations vicariously through me since you are on a happy and commited relationship?" Marinette arched her brown and left out a breath after going through that phrase fast so that her best friend couldn't interrupt.

"I thought you were a double major on fashion and business, not psychoanalysis, babes" Alya's eyes closed in on her behind the glasses, the tilt of the redhead's head adding to the menacing look.

"And I thought you were on margarita duty. Where are my drinks, Césaire?"

"Here," the sound came from behind Marinette and this time the jump almost made her drop the firmly held karaoke machine. Before she could register the movement, a arm came foward to take it out of her hands, caging her in. "Where do you want these?" The voice was now in her ear, speaking so softly it could only belong to Luka. This time, the surprise made her actually jerk foward and the man stepped back to allow the reaction.

With the added space, Marinette turned to face him, carrying a pint of she supposed were margaritas on one hand and the box who she was just strugglig with on the other like it was nothing. Looking absolutely delicious doing both, not to mention it.

"Sorry for the scare, Mari," he smiled at her apologetic and she believed she could have died right there on the spot, hearing the nickname and seeing the dimples "'I was just trying to help."

"No, no, its okay! Im just... jumpy. So much to do and whatnot" she tried her best to smile back but the proximity made it wobly. she probably looked so silly that just thinking about it made her wanna scream. But Luka didnt seem fazed.

"At your service" Marinette felt like passing out. "I'm gonna find a place to put these down and then come back to help, okay?"

Not trusting herself to speak, the French-Chinese simply nodded, and at that he walked out. Alya's eyes were on her the whole time, fighting back the smirk.

"Not a word" Marinette sushed her, and the journalist cackled into the sky.

***

The party was a success, as far as last minute ones go. It made Rose so happy she teared up a little over the cake, plus she was so delighted at Marinettes dedication to making the whole arrangement work -- and fighting for the party to go on on the first place -- that the petit blond decided to gift her with the first slice of cake.

Now, it was late and they were all a little too buzzed to drive back. The lights and decorations were all still up, so they sat on a messy circle made out of lawn chairs and pillows, chating about nothing in particular.

Somehow, Marinette ended up on Luka's chair, their bodies pressed together in the small space. Looking for the perfect position, luka grabbed her legs so that they were in his lap and trew one of his arms over her shoulders, causing the girl to shiver with the contact.

"You cold?" He asked her while drawing patterns on her knee hith the hand that rested there. She took a minute to answer positively, barely registering that it was a question, concentrating too much on the way his fingers found the spot that got all her hairs standing and saluding the man that was Luka Couffaine. The second shudder was welcomed by him, who took the softly whispered "yes" and the trembling as results of her freezing and not Marinette being turned on. Thank God for small mercies.

With that, Luka got up and sprinted away after drapping his jacket all around her. She didnt quite understand what was going on until he had already organized all the firewood on the middle of the patio and was trying to light it.

He wasnt. No way.

But apparently the thought of setting stuff on fire appealed more to Luka than simply holding her. Awesome.

"Do you ever just forget they're Couffaines? But then they do something like like this." She could hear the laugh in Rose's voice before turning to meet her eye. "In the beggining of our relationship Juleka would pull the most ridiculous stunts and go the hardest lenghts to prove herself to me. It was so silly. I felt like a damsel in distress on a bad mute movie. But don't worry too much about it. Luka is far more vocal than Jules, and even if he weren't they are fast learners, the Couffaines."

...What?

Maybe the confusion was obvious in Marinettes face, or she had said it out loud cause Rose continued.

"What? Did I say something wrong? Did I meddled? Is just that you guys have been on this will they, won't the thing for so long, and neither of you would just come out and say it! It feels good to be finally able to say it, that's it." Marinettes eyes widened even more than she thought it was possible. What the hell Rose thinks is going on?

It was only when all the bluenette could do was look terrified with her mouth basically hanging open, that the blonde one realized she made a mistake.

#lukanette #mlb #miraculous ladybug #lbsc challenge #im so sorry this is bad and random #sprint challenge

50 notes · View notes

irregularcollapse · 2 months

Note

17 and 19 for the writer asks! (I know 17 is so general -- it's like writing?? discuss -- but I'm super interested in your editing process, especially for longer fics)

thanks soooo much hehehe love these

17. talk about your writing and editing process

lmao writing? discuss. SO alright process. i approach writing long fics the same way i approach writing original fiction, there's just a lot less pre-prep because the characters etc. are already defined, so anything i plan will largely be plot, theme and structure-based. i focus on story beats and what the flow of events is. i don't worry too much initially about separating things into chapters, because this sort of happens naturally once i've figured out where the different arcs are within the whole journey.

it also often works out that particular things take longer to tell in the writing than i intended in the planning - for example, i had it loosely in my head (not on paper) that i would get to Laurent's introduction in ASTTE in chapter 2, but then in the writing, i needed more time to destabilise Damen's mental state and put him under the Comte's thumb, to make it really clear why he doesn't just go "fuck this" and try to leave as soon as Laurent starts insulting him.

i mostly write chronologically, but i will write ahead if specific inspiration strikes and i need to make sure i get it down correctly, which then becomes a matter of filling in the gap between what follows the chronology and the future scene i've written. this can also be helpful for keeping on track, because you've got in mind where the character will be, and the concern becomes getting them there.

editing! it's not a perfect system, but i do my best with what i've got. i send any new writing to my beta reader so we can chat about what works/what doesn't, and any typos/errors she finds she'll note for me as well. i make those edits as soon as we've talked about them. i also generally re-read what i wrote the day before, when i sit down to write, and may make some edits then.

i do edit fic differently to original work. with original work, i'd write a whole draft and then do a series of full edits. with fic, i prefer to do a sort of rolling edit, particularly if i reach a writing block. i'll go back and reread everything from the start, in a different format to the one i'm writing in; for original work, i'd print it out and write on it, but with fic, i export as a pdf or epub and annotate via highlights and comments. this is a dual proofread and edit read: the former looks for technical errors (spelling, grammar, punctuation), while the latter looks for style, coherence, and cohesion.

another key part of the edit read is reading it aloud. you'll be so surprised by how much you catch when you're forced to slow down and look at every word: typos, awkward sentences, unintentional repetition, clunky phrasing, dialogue that just doesn't roll off the tongue - it's honestly my #1 piece of editing advice, no matter what you're writing. read aloud.

i do this multiple times while working on a longer piece, and will also do a cursory proofread before posting each chapter. things still get missed! i found a typo in EIAT the other day, and another mistake that seemed quite glaring to me and i couldn't figure out how i didn't notice it before. but, people are fallible. two individuals reading a 200k+ word piece of writing are bound to miss some stuff, and that's just how it is - especially when you've already read something so many times.

i think what a lot of readers forget about fic in comparison to published books is that published books will have had multiple rounds of multiple people reading them: alpha and beta readers, test readers, proofreaders, agents, editors, the author themselves, etc. etc.

meticulous editing takes time and people, and while i do put in the time, it's only me (and a friend who has a very busy life in her own right) and a metric fucktonne of words. so this is my soapbox moment to say, i wish we could all extend more grace to hobby writers who have typos or other innocuous errors in their work.

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

LUCKY FOR YOU, i answered this here so you don't have to put up with any more of my rambling lmao

(questions from this writer ask game!!)

#asks #ask game #my writing #if you do have any specific questions about writing or process!#for real send them any time!#i love to talk about this kind of stuff

5 notes · View notes

talenlee · 1 year

Text

Speed of Thought

New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: Speed of Thought

There is a fundamental unfairness to the speed with which I create words and the speed with which you, probably consume them.

these pictures added time

You may be a slow reader, a deliberate reader, or even a widely distracted reader, someone with one of the many focus challenges that I and my cohort are often afflicted (though I do think in the case of myself whatever is wrong with my brain is a byproduct of behaviours inflicted, not something wrong with the wiring at a base level and yes I recognise that even in saying that I am somehow trying to absolve myself from talking to a doctor and getting diagnosed or maybe even medicated in a way that will help me and make my life better but what’s a better time to stop a habit of a life time) and that means that while you may find it very challenging to say, read a thousand words, you’re much more likely to simply not read them than you are to struggle through them over the course of a day. If you are inclined to read long form articles like this one (how long is it? I don’t know yet, I’m not done) then you probably read at a pretty typical speed which

new tab let’s check the numbers not just going off memory

okay so first link I hit says it’s about 200-250 words a minute, sure that’s fine let’s treat that like that’s true. That means a thousand word article is going to take something between four and five minutes to read through and that article, assuming it has images, references and citations and any modicum of research did not take four minutes to write through. Some articles take literally days of broken-up effort, revision upon revision to make sure I’m not misrepresenting an idea or a making a point badly, or really, to just come back to find what it is was I thought was fun about approaching this idea in the first place.

at the time of getting the pics, it was an extra 4 minutes

You notice the breathless pace here? Yeah, I’m writing this as a stream of consciousness. Trying to use the backspace key as little as possible and trying to keep my fingers going which means that I am not doing much to keep the thoughts in my head, stewing around in a little cage to make sure only the good ones get out. I haven’t degenerated to the point where I’m having to make sure I’m not just repeating some pat phrase like I know my brain resorts to at some point – for the longest time as a little kid, I knew that if left to my own devices I would start talking about the DOOM rocket launcher, though not in any meaningful way. I’d just start saying ‘rocket launcher,’ as if I was introducing the concept to a newsreader, realise I’d just done that very weird behaviour aloud, hope I hadn’t done it around anyone who could recognise me or hear me, and then move on with my life.

Anyway, the point is this is me trying to speedrun a thousand words. Checks word count oh hey it’s 534 words at this point, that’s not a great sign, but also doing a bit better than I thought I would be.

Writing a thousand words as quickly as possible, while still trying to hold onto some coherent expression (and honestly betray the mindset of the person who’s engaging in the practice) is a challenge that serves no purpose and yields no reward but does serve, to me to make it very clear exactly the differential between the speed of reading versus the speed of writing. I don’t think it’s unfair to say that, at this point, I do not predict this will be a good article, nor even a particularly clever one, if only because you didn’t need to see the divergence into how I would occasionally start conversations with the air like I was being interviewed on the television by Kermit the Frog, intrepid reporter, and yes, hi, Corey, I know the jpg you’re about to send me.

What it does do however, is make me think about scale.

Because yes, I cannot write a thousand words as quickly as you can read a thousand words (at least, if you’re reading like a book; in a conversation you may not realise how many words fly past you very quickly, and listening to a thousand words on an audiobook has a much more stable meter, for a variety of reasons including best practices and accessibility). But when I write a thousand words down, and you take four minutes reading it, that time differential is pretty bad, for my effort vs your enjoyment. But if it took me forty minutes to write and it takes you four minutes to read and there are nine of you then well boy howdy – I’ve broken even.

this brings is up to 22 minutes

And what if we scale it up?

What if instead of me writing a thousand words in forty minutes, I spend weeks and months honing my craft to excecute a forty minute performance. Not the writing, now, no; because as you know, tomorrow is the start of another Games Done Quick Marathon, in which this question in my mind of speed lurks large.

I thought to myself, what could I write about, during GDQ, that would fit the theme of GDQ, since we’re talking about speedrunning already in all the socials? What would that look like? What kind of things are going to unfold from just that starting point of how fast can bleep bloop bloop bleepily?

This is one of the answers.

That creating things often involves putting in work that is rendered invisible and sometimes dissolved by the experiencing of it. And that that’s okay. And that all of this, in a way, is a performance; that my words are inert, until animated by your mind and the reading, just as the speedrun is an invisible form of play, animated by the player who seeks it. Foucault said something about speedrunning, kinda.

This is a thousand and nineteen words. It took ten minutes.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#GDQ2023

#GDQ 2023

1 note · View note

pandoraimperatrix · 3 years

Text

caught between goodbye and I love you

DickKory | Pining | Eventual smut | Two shots | Post season 3 AU

Chapter 1: My heart is a sad affair

Chapter 2: Too many moonlight kisses seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

Kory’s hands slid from Dick’s head, massaging his temples and cheekbones, spreading little butterfly pecks around his face to let him breath between her hungry kisses. Then, her hands kept going down, kneading his broad shoulders, easing away any tension he might still have, he shivered as her long nails scratched his chest downwards until her fingers reached his trousers, popping the button of his fly.

“Kory, wait,” he managed to say, using all his willpower to hold her hand from going further.

“Hmm,” she made, her mouth was now sucking his earlobe, Jesus fucking Christ, that woman.

“Wha-“ She somehow managed to step further into his personal space, her thigh rubbed against his crotch and Dick had to suck a breath in. “What do you mean?” he asked again voice trembling, not sure of how he was able to keep coherent.

His heart sunk when she sighed and pulled her hand from his, he was an idiot, she clearly didn’t come to chat and he was ruining everything. But to his surprise, she didn’t escape from their embrace, just pulled her face from the curve of his neck, her now freed hand grabbing his chin to make him look at her. God, she was so gorgeous, and the demanding way she handled his body made his skin sizzle.

“I meant,” she started, her thumb on his lower lip, “that, what I said the other time, I… I lied. I don’t see you as a friend. Well,” she smiled, that gorgeous smile of her, equal parts angelical and full of promises of exciting dirty things. “I do. But not just a friend-”

Read on AO3

As much as her rambling added so much to her charm, since it was so rare to see Kory uncertain of her words, he had been holding all those feelings, for so long torturing himself with the reality in which she told him that she didn’t feel like that for him back, and now, out of the nowhere... He just couldn't let it all go and enjoy. That was not him. It had to be a catch, something wrong. And if he was right about that, maybe he was right about the other stuff too. About how he had been carrying his fear of losing her at any second.

So, he had to ask again. Any bitter truth is better than a sweet lie.

“Why?”

“Why?” she chuckled and then kissed his jaw lovingly, ready to go back to where they were.

“Kor… Why did you lie?” He coached, his voice low, he was barely managing to keep it together, but he needed to know.

“Oh…” her eyes lowered, and she trembled, that helped him to emerge his attention from the pool of desire he was drowning.

“Kory, there’s something happening, isn’t it?” She closed her eyes, a guilty expression taking hold of her beautiful face, Dick held her firmer, he was starting to panic. That was his confirmation; her presence in his life had always been so good to be true. He always knew that. All this time he had been blaming his paranoia on the chip on his shoulder and his broken heart, but he had been correct. He this was a goodbye.

“Kory, please,” he kissed her cheek, and pulled her for a full hug, desperate for her to prove him wrong once more. To laugh at his fatalistic ways and tell him to relax. “Talk to me.”

“I’m going back to my planet,” she said the phrase he feared the most, each word drilled into his heart, he didn’t answer anything, just held her firmer, as if he could keep her forever like that “I can’t stay here.”

He sucked air in, and pulled apart just enough to see her beautiful face. Shiny tears stained her cheeks.

“But you and you sister agreed-“

Komand’r had left a month ago taking with her official proof that Kory was giving up her royal right to her sister and announcing that Earth was her new home.

“She sent me word from Tamaran. They still won’t accept her. I have to go, wear the crown, do my duty.”

“But-“

She was caressing his face again, the pads of her fingers softly following the lines on the surface of his skin, as if she was trying to learn every little part of him by heart…

“I’ve known for a while that would happen,” her voice broke, she pressed her face on his chest, grabbing the fabric of his shirt with both hands. “That’s why I lied to you” still horrified and confused, he caressed her hair, breathing in her scent, trying to make sure it was memorized, that no matter where she’d go, she’d still remain somehow within him.

“I didn’t want to make this harder than it has to be….” She continued, wiping her tears away. “But I decided that my last selfish act would be you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He couldn’t resist the way she said that last phrase and smashed his lips against hers again, pulling her impossibly close. Kory made a needy surprised noise that alone was enough to make him hard again, and when he pressed her against his dresser he made sure she’d know.

She pushed his chest away, and turned around, Dick understood the message, pulling her hair to the side and spreading open mouth kisses down her neck. She caught his eyes through the mirror, and although her smile reflected pure bliss, the new tears persisted to fall.

That wouldn’t do. He didn’t want their last night to be so full of sorrow.

“You have no idea,” but she continued, as his hands slid down her back, purposely ignoring the zipper of her dress. “When you went back together with Barbara” he answered the bitterness in her voice with a bite, she grabbed of his hands and pressed it against her breast. “I tried to convince me that it was alright,” his free hand reached her hips, marvelling at their perfect roundness, he strummed the silky fabric of her dress, pulling the seam up until his hand lied flat of the skin of her bare thigh.

“I thought…” it was becoming hard for her to keep talking and although he felt a wave of pride for rendering her speechless, his inquisitive mind still wanted to understand, and he wanted her to find relief by dumping all the weight she had been carrying alone all this time “that it was how things s-should be. Oh Dick-“ his fingers found the lacy edge of her underwear and Kory chocked. When he pulled his hand back to her inner thigh she let out a suffering sigh and continued with her explanation. “Even if I hurt. I thought… I thought things would be alright if you were happy.”

He had no idea that she was hurting that much too. He held her closer, resting his forehead against her neck.

“I thought if there was someone else to look after you,” instead of firm and needy, the grip on his hand on her breast became tender, “and help you with our kids... But then Rachel and Gar begged me to stay and you helped me to delude myself that there was a possibility…”

“Me?” One thing was she saying that she had feelings for him, another was she offering sex as a parting gift, and another completely different was she saying that what made her believe she could stay was him. Because that gave him hope, and hope is a very dangerous thing.

She looked shy for a woman who was just seconds before rubbing against his hard-on when she turned in his embrace again.

“You just had broken up with Barbara, and I couldn’t deny you anything because I was…” she swallowed, his heart was beating so hard he could almost hear it. Kory said a string of fast tamaranean words.

“Kory?”

“I can’t say it. Please don’t make me. This is bad enough, if I say it… I am… I… I fooled myself. This, us, it was too good to be true. Our little family, never in my life, I thought I’d ever get something like this. I never thought I even wanted it. But, after everything, when we came home, I knew you still had feelings for me… And X’hal…” she trailed off and looked away for a moment, but then raised her chin defiantly, a fierce expression in her face, green eyes shining with something akin to fury. “I wanted to accept them. I wanted to say fuck my duty, our family is better than that. I’d much better to be obligated to the you and Rach and Gar. Fuck the all our differences, I’d take the little I had with you over eternity with people that would kill children and their own daughter for power. I love my family and Tamaran. But that’s not enough anymore. I was afraid this would happen, but I didn’t want to believe it would be this soon, and now… Now…”

“Now what?”

She held his face between her hands again.

“Now this is all I can offer you. This night.”

“We’ll find a way,” he begged, picking one of her hands and kissing her palm.

Dick had never seen her smile turn up so sad.

“Please don’t this. I don’t want to pretend. I’m so tired of lying to you and I’ll have to pretend to the rest of my life. This might be the last night I will ever have to be myself, to be with you. I need this to be real.”

What else could he do? She wanted real. He’d give her real.

Dick pulled her up as his lips claimed hers again, her powerful legs crossed around his hips. He held her up like that for a while, just enjoying the feel of her body pressed flush against his. His hands giving her support by moulding her round butt with his palms. Kory took one of the hands off his hair, bending her arm backwards so she could rub him through his trousers. Dick let out a moan and she used the opportunity to make a wet path of kisses across his cheekbones, until she reached his ear. She whispered something in her native language and licked his earlobe.

Dick he walked backwards until his chins hit the bed and he fell sitting with Kory on his lap. She stopped her ministrations to pull her hair from her face and look down at him.

“Hey,” she said, her eyelashes were still wet, but her tears had stopped falling, she looked so… No wonder she belonged to the heavens, no being on planet Earth could be so perfect.

“Hello,” he answered.

Kory leaned her forehead against his, and Dick’s hands slid upwards through her back, searching for the metallic pull tab of the zipper, but his hands kept getting trapped by her voluminous curly hair.

“Kory, some help, please?”

She let out that hearty laugh of hers, deeply amused by his lack of skill, and pulled her hair up, the smile never leaving her lips.

“You are so gorgeous,” he vowed against her lips as he reached for the fastening of her dress again, this time having success in his endeavour.

“You are very pretty yourself, Mr Grayson,” she teased between kisses, with the back of her dress open, he started, kissing her shoulders as he pulled the straps of her dress down.

“I should have known that day, when I first saw you in that arcade, that you couldn’t be from this world.”

She laughed again and recoiled when he hit a ticklish path on her neck.

“You were so mad at me,” she giggled.

He forced his lips away from her skin so he could look at her.

“You stole my car!”

Kory pulled his locks away from his eyes with the tip of her fingers.

“I was very rude to you,” her fingers lowered from this forehead to the valley of his eyebrows to the tip of his nose.

“I fell in love right there,” he said, very serious, maybe just realising it.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I mean it.”

And she believed him. Kory kissed him again, rocking in his lap. Then she pushed him, making Dick fall on the bed, Kory looming over his body like a big cat.

“Oh, all the things I want to do to with you Dick Grayson…” she said in a husky tone.

“Please,” he whispered.

“Please what?”

“Whatever you want.”

She giggled and leaned towards his face, Dick moved to meet her in the middle, but in the last moment, Kory kissed his throat instead, making him let out an disappointed whine. She smiled against his skin, going downwards, making him sigh. Dick caressed her soft hair, sliding his hands through the newfound naked skin of her back, smirking when he felt her shiver. As nice as it was to go so slow, he just couldn’t turn off the part of his brain that knew the only reason why they were trying to stretch that night as long as possible, was because they wouldn’t have another.

He found his hands under her dress again, and pulled the shimmering fabric all the way up this time. Kory stopped her work on the buttons of his shirt to raise her hands up to help him. The golden tones of her dark skin glowed under the penumbra of his room, like she was her own source of light, and maybe she was. There was so much he didn’t know about her. So much that he’d never be able to find out now.

Dick pressed his hand against her belly, and looked up to her through his lashes, she was smiling again, observing his reaction. When he noticed that, he gave her a puzzled look and Kory shook her head.

“Come up here.”

He obeyed, catching her lips again, Kory rocked against him, and this time Dick rocked back against her, seeking that so desired friction. His hand slid between then, finding her core.

Oh Lord, he broke the kiss, breathing hard.

“Fuck, Kory, you have a pool here.”

“Yeah?” She said, trying to rub against his hand. “What you’re gonna do about it?”

Dick pressed his fingers against the fabric of her underwear, god she felt so hot, his fingers slid easily over the drenched lace, testing up and down, side to side and round motions to see what she liked best. He decided he found the one when Kory moaned loudly, and her hips started moving, assisting his own movements, her arms wrapped around his neck for dear life. When he felt she was getting, close, he, pulled the fabric aside and inserted two fingers, his thumb continuing to rub her clit and Kory screamed, her nails breaking the skin of his neck. Her other hand grabbing her own breast as Dick continued his onslaught, refusing to kiss her only so he would lose each blissful expression his ministrations created on her face.

He chuckled when her orgasm hit and she seemed to lose control of her movements to a fit of spasms. Dick kissed her temple as she calmed herself.

“Kor?”

“I’m fine.”

“Better than fine I hope.”

She let out a hoarse laugh.

“I can be better.”

“I hope for that too, we’ve barely started.”

She took a deep breath and raised her head from the curve of his neck.

“My turn!” She looked down at him. “How come you are still fully dressed?”

“I have a greedy princess for lover, you see.”

She rolled her eyes and made a quick work of his shirt that was already half-opened.

“Hmmm we have a problem.”

“What?”

“I can’t take off your pants and stay on your lap at the same time.”

“You’ll have to climb off first,” he suggested in a breathy voice.

She just gave him a look as if he said some absurd nonsense.

And then Kory’s eyebrows raised, her expression clearing as she quite clearly had an idea, Dick licked his lips and waited as one of her hands snaked down and ripped the fabric of her own thong. He was breathing incredibly heavy already for someone who did cardio sessions twice a day when her other hand grabbed his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbing against her palm. Looking straight into his eyes, Kory reached into his trousers and pulled his penis off its enclosure. She gave him a couple feeling pumps and Dick closed his eyes hard.

“Look at me,” she demanded.

Dick drew a shaky breath before blinking his eyes open, obeying. She smiled so, so sweetly before pushing her wet folds against his cock, stimulating both of them without penetration.

“Don’t!” she warned in a tight voice when threatened closing his eyes again.

Dick grabbed the sheets of his bed trying to hold himself together for her while Kory mercilessly rubbed her juicy sex against him, until was too much and he pushed her aggressively against the bed making Kory cry out in surprise and frustration. He didn’t let her down, thought, kneeling on the carpet and worshiping her dark smooth thighs. God, he haven’t even noticed before, but she was wearing those translucent knee high nylons. He had spent so much freaking time fantasising about that particular garment when she first appeared wearing them. How he had survived so long without having a hornyness-induced stroke living with Kory was beyond him.

He licked clean the juices dripping from her vulva first, holding his laughter as she let out a string of words he new were curses until he finally decided to take her off her misery giving the attention she so craved to her pussy. Dick fucked her with his tongue, using his thumb to keep flicking her clit at the same time.

He rose his head alarmed when she reached her climax again and he heard a loud crash. His lamp, once on his nightstand, was on the floor across the room, on fire.

Kory started to move to fix it, guilt mixed with tendrils of the pleasure of the mind numbing orgasm she had, but Dick just raised a hand to her. In no time he had put out the fire with a towel from his en suite.

Then he sat beside of her on the bed, and they exchanged a look before laughing together.

“That was pretty dangerous,” he stated after the worst of laughing subdued.

“Shut up and take off your pants already, Grayson.”

He did, well aware of her eyes on him as he worked. His feet were already bare he was about to take his night shower and get ready to sleep when she appeared at his door. Dick noticed she moving towards her own boots, but he stopped her.

“Let me.”

“Really? Last time you couldn’t take them off.”

“Nah, I just wanted to see you come while they were still on.”

“Kinky.”

He grinned and pulled the zipper of the first boot down, unwrapping her leg as if it was a rare fragile antique instead of the powerful murder weapon it could be. Not that he would mind dying between her legs. He actually couldn’t think of a better death.

Dick climbed back on the bed, lying beside Kory, she lazily turned her body towards his.

“Ready to go again?” he asked, one hand under his chin and the other playing with her beautiful curls. When they met they were to bright, he kind of missed it, lately it had been getting redder, he wanted to know what colour they would turn next, but he never would.

“What is it?” she asked, noticing the shadow on his face?

He could tell her and make her sad, he could lie, but she’d know and she asked him to be true. So, he dove for another kiss, covering her body with his and pulling her legs apart to fit better between them.

Her hands travelled across his back as they kissed, her still encased in the high socks feet slid from his calf to his butt pressing against it. When he was getting used of the feeling of her all putty and languid under him, Kory seemed to get over her afterglow stupor and pushed him.

“Up!”

He looked down.

“Has been for a while now.”

She snorted. She loved how free he felt to be silly when there was only the two of them. Kory wished he was more carefree like that regularly, but also felt a bubble of pride for how comfortable she made him feel.

“Dork. Come on, you’re not going to regret it.”

She let him give her another lazy kiss before he pulled off her, standing up, waiting with his hands on his waist. Kory pushed her body up with her forearms and sat down. She gave him an enigmatic smile before falling forward in fours. He was already moaning before her lips even touched him. Kory used one of her hands to hold her upper body horizontally and with the other she grabbed Dick’s hips and pulled him towards her in a powerful motion. She kissed his navel and licked downwards. He held his breath when the nails of the hand holding his hips scratched their way toward his balls, cradling them before she grabbed the base of his impossibly hard penis and sucked the tip.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moaned as she started swirling her tongue down, spreading kisses through the entire length. “Kory, oh my god-“ he chocked as her hand slid down, stimulating his balls again as she sucked restlessly, until the tip of her fingers rimmed him and pleasure was blinding, his ears were actually buzzing.

“Kor, Kor Kor, stop,” he begged unable to physically pull away. “Jesus, please, stop or I-“

Luckily, she did, he took a few breaths before opening his eyes again, afraid that even looking at her would make him come too soon. He tried to think about Krypto’s disgusting food to calm himself until he was allowed to contemplate actual sex goddess Koriand’r again. Dick could hear her giggling, that siren. But he’d show her.

When he decided it was safe enough, Dick opened his eyes to find Kory kneeing on the edge of the bed, looking at him with so much love – because as much as he understood her unwillingness to say it, he knew, oh he knew – his eyes stung.

“Come here,” he said opening his arms, and she hugged his neck, kissing him as Dick finally unfastened her bra. Hey threw the garment over his shoulder after freeing her, and leaned down to give attention to her breast. Just like everything about her, they were perfect, and he was more than happy to suck one of her black nipples as she caressed his hair lovingly. He gave equal treatment to the other one, but as he could feel her becoming restless, Dick pulled Kory up again. She snaked her hand between them, positioning his cock, and with one swift motion, let her weight descend over him. Dick let her ride him like that, standing up. She cried out, her hips moving against his frenetically, her arms and legs locked against his waist and neck for dear life, he tried to give her support by holding her butt cheeks, but she didn’t seem to need it, it was almost if she was flying.

She came again, almost bringing him with her, but thankfully without setting anything on fire. Dick took advantage of her high to pull her up, rising her to his shoulder and licking her again, overstimulating her until Kory lost all remaining control.

Dick lied her on the bed again, kissing her neck softly as she returned, his hands sliding up and down her thigs. Kory sighed.

“I don’t think I can come again,” she said, one of her thumbs was caressing the new bullet wound scar on his shoulder, the one Babs gave him. Kory was so mad. He wanted to kiss her so hard that day. If only Gar wasn’t there too…

“I’ll try my best,” he picked the hand on his scar and kissed it.

“Aren’t you so hardworking?”

He chuckled and entered her again, this time going slowly. The sun was rising through the horizon, reminding them that even that night had to end too. She held his face, smiling, but the tears were falling again. He kissed her cheeks, cleaning them with his love. And then, when the morning sun hit her hair, creating an purple aura around her hair, he came.

She was still under him when he opened his eyes again, she didn’t seem no more willing to let him go than he felt of leaving her body.

“I’m fighting for you,” he said, very serious.

Kory sighed, and turned her face away.

“You can’t.”

“Kory-“

“Please, don’t talk, I want to enjoy this just a little longer.”

Dick climbed off her, but pulled Kory’s body for a hug, she lied her head over his heart, fitting, for even universes apart, she was its rightful owner and always would be.

------------

Where is my clown make up? This thing ended being 6k anyway lmao. But I wanted to take part in the trend of extra-long DickKory sex scenes. It’s a very nice trend, you see.

Well, I hope you all liked it. I plan to make a sequel, but Fortuna knows when it will come out. I do have a lot of WIPs that need attention.

And now I’ll watch today’s episode, I told myself I wasn’t allowed to watch it until this was over.

Please comment!!!! And reblog!!!

#dickkory #dickkori #starfire #nightwing #robstar #koriand'r #dick grayson #kory anders #kori anders #teen titans #titans #hbo titans #dcu titans #titans live action #my fic #caught between goodbye and i love you

43 notes · View notes

ur-local-anti-hero · 3 years

Text

S/O captured by heroes

He felt numb, as if everything had been taken away from him, and it was his fault.

Hawks x GN! Reader

Warnings: Minor spoilers for the manga, mentions of blood

1278 words

I Dabi I I Dabi pt2 I I Shigaraki I I General masterlist I

Thank u all for the support on Dabi's part :) shigaraki's will be posted soon

--------

· He remembers clearly the day he was introduced to the league. The suspicion everyone held against him, because of his status as a hero, and the harsh words that all the members spoke to him.

· He promised himself not to befriend any of the villains he was going to work with, he only needed to gain their trust, leaving his personal feeling apart. Well, that was the plan.

· The second time he had gone to the hideout someone had caught his eye. He hadn’t seen you the first day, but there you were, sitting in the bar while chatting with Kurogiri. He would never admit it, but since the moment his eyes had lay on you, he knew you were special.

· He is also able to recall your first conversation.

· “And, who are you?” you had asked him, always with that characteristic smile he would learn to love. ´

· “…Hawks” He had replied

· “Oh yes, I’ve heard about you from Dabi. The famous pro hero wanting to join the league” You had said, almost jokingly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your time here, hero”

· He can almost feel the same confusion he had felt at the moment ‘Why weren’t you being suspicious of him?’

· “Aren’t you going to ask me what my intentions are?” he had inquired, confused by your welcoming.

· “Should I? If you are here the only thing I can imagine is that you hate the hero society as much as we do” You had told him.

· “Well yes, but I am a pro hero, aren’t you going to suspect me?” He had inquired.

· “I could, but if you were here as an undercover mission, I highly doubt you would tell me anyways” You had explained “And what is more, you work under the hero commission. If someone knows how corrupted that organization is, it must be you. So, let’s say that I could understand the way you’re thinking. I will trust you as long as I don’t have a reason to suspect you. Just don’t betray my trust and we will be fine. Do you get it, mister pro?” You had finished and, without letting him time to say anything you left.

· He stayed frozen in his place; mouth open at your statement.

· That was just the first conversation of thousands he will have with you. He fell fairly quickly for you, always looking forward to his next visit to the bar in order to hold you in his arms.

· You were the first person he had talked about his past with, letting you call him by his birth name. You also shared your history with him and the reason why you despised heroes. At that moment he could only feel guilt, sooner or later you will have to know the truth about why he had joined. But for the moment he would enjoy your time together.

· It was almost perfect; a year had gone already. He was so enamored with you. And gladly the feeling was mutual. But of course, everything has to come to an end eventually.

· “Hawks, are you even listening to me?” He can hear Endeavor’s voice at his side. Pro heroes were all around the area. After a year of his undercover mission, it had come to an end.

· “No, sorry. What was that?” He replied to the fire hero at his side.

· Endeavor sighed. “Gang orca has given the signal. Everything is ready to go in”

· “Right. What are we waiting for then? Let’s go” He grinned, trying to maintain his façade as an overconfident hero. He was terrified though. He had told you not to come to the base today with some excuse, he hoped you had listened to.

· He could take down the league, but he would never be able to forgive himself if you were taken as well.

· The break in was easy. The hideout was on a pretty old and mistreated building so it didn’t take long for the pros to be inside.

· He was on one of the last lines of action, walking after Endeavor. They were in charge of keeping the villains restrained while the others pro heroes will be fighting them.

· When he finally stepped in the bar, he couldn’t help but be surprised by how it looked. Everything was a mess, the furniture completely destroyed, burn marks and blood splattered through the walls.

· He was so distracted looking at the room that he didn’t notice when Endeavor had restrained someone.

· “Hawks, you take care of this one, I’m going to help the others in the front lines” He had said while, without any type of care, pushing someone into his arms.

· His eyes widened when he realized who he was holding.

· “Y/n…What-“He choked, ‘Why were you here? He had told you not to come’

· Now it was only the two of you in the room. Shouting and fighting could be heard in the background, but Hawks was completely unaware of it, as everything he could think about was how he was holding you right now. Your face facing the floor, arms on your back completely restrained by quirk-cancelation handcuffs.

· “I guess you were right, I really should have suspected you from the start, huh?” You whispered, loud enough for the winged hero to hear you.

· “Y/n… look… I’m so sorry, I didn’t want this to end this way. I promise-“He blubbered, voice filled with guilt.

· “No.” You stopped him “I don’t want your half-assed apology.” You began and raised your head, looking directly in the eyes. Your tear-stained face was full of sadness and betrayal. “I trusted you, I really thought I meant something for you.” You sobbed.

· “I guess it was all a game for you. I can’t believe I’ve fallen this hard for all your words and promises.” You groaned.

· Hawks was now shaking. He has fallen for you, nothing he had said was a game for him. He loved you, but still had betrayed your trust from the start. Now looking at your eyes, you were looking at him with anger and sadness. Something you had never directed towards him. It felt wrong, really different from the love and admiration those glances usually held.

· “At least tell me something, keigo. Was anything real? Did you mean all those words?” You questioned.

· He wanted to tell you something, that he meant everything he said. But the guilt wouldn’t allow him to even form a coherent phrase, so he kept quiet.

· “That’s what I thought. I would like you to know that I meant everything. It’s funny how I fell in love with a lie, I’m such an idiot” You lamented.

· If Hawks thought the pain in his chest couldn’t get worse, he was mistaken. Those words made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t believe this was happening. Everything was falling apart.

· Maybe he could let you free. He looked around in search of other pro heroes. Maybe, just maybe, he could take off your handcuffs and let you escape. He debated with himself, however before he could make a move you were taken away from his grasp.

· Endeavor was standing there, dragging you to the police cars that would get you to prison.

· Hawks couldn’t move. He stayed in his place, watching as you disappeared right in front of his eyes.

· One single tear fell from his eye and made his way to his chin to the floor. He felt numb, as if everything had been taken away from him, and it was his fault.

· He knew, in that moment, that this guilt will follow him for the rest of his life. He was broken beyond repair.

~~~~

Thank you for reading!! Likes and reblogs are apreciated :)

Requests are open

Taglist: @luci58 @honeyr4ven

#mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha angst #bnha headcanons #hawks headcanons #mha hawks #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #mha headcanons #reader #hawks x gender neutral reader #hawks my hero academia #bnha #hawks angst #bnha fic #mha fic

184 notes · View notes

shrubberylogistic · 2 years

Note

What is your writing process like? Like how do you pick and develop ideas, what do you look to for inspo, do you do drafts, how long it takes, etc?

Brilliant question! I’ve never quantified it myself, but I’m trying to take a more professional approach to writing this year. Maybe noting down the process could show me where to make those gains in efficiency! 😁

I’ll plot to this out in some sort of order. Big post - bear with!

From the off, I can draw inspiration from anywhere and everywhere, but it’s mainly from Tumblrs I follow. I write what turns me on, and a lot of my ideas start from seeing something I like and wondering ‘what if?’. If it’s a fresh setting, a unique perspective or a sexy theme I haven’t seen for a while, I’ll think about how to make it into a story.

At this stage, all I’ll do is dream up a working title on the spot, tap in maybe one or two sentences of narrative, and leave a scrap of what inspired me in the first place. Then I’ll keep it in my phone for god knows how long - if I find that the thought keeps seeping into my free time, I’ll crack on with lengthening it out. Sometimes I’ll wake up at 3am with a name or a sentence in mind - into the melting pot it goes.

The next step is selecting which point of view to write the story in. Most of my DeviantArt stories are third person, most of my Tumblr stuff is in second, and I enjoy branching into first every now and again to channel new thoughts and feelings. I typically use third for requests, first/second for my own ideas, but it’s not exclusive - it really depends on what I want to achieve with the image in my head.

When it comes to the actual writing, I have a scattergun approach to getting a story started - I’ll begin with whatever description or juicy bit of dialogue is gripping me most, then map it forwards and backwards. Sometimes I’ll drop away to concentrate on a different paragraph if I feel like I’m winding down - although that usually means the reader’s likely to wind down too, so I scroll back and make adjustments. The tough task is linking all the different blocks I’ve made together and reshaping them so they flow as one coherent piece. It’s not recommended by many, but I’m pretty jammy for editing on the go (often instead of adding genuine content 😖) Nevertheless, it usually works out alright in the end!

In terms of the physical side, I do most of my writing on my phone, then I’ll email myself whatever I’ve finished and shape up a second draft on my laptop. Before I upload it, I’ll let it linger on the screen, go away and do something completely different, then give it a once-over with a fresh set of eyes. This helps me pick up the dodgy errors in syntax that most word processors miss! If I find any descriptions that are too repetitive for my liking, I’ll grab a thesaurus and figure out a way to make it unique to the situation. Finally, if I haven’t figured out a title by that point, I’ll scour the narrative for the phrase that leaps out to me most. I’m a big fan of puns and wordplay, so it’s usually something along those lines.

Hope this answers everything! Feel free to drop back in my inbox if there’s more you’d like to know 😊

11 notes · View notes

ironmandeficiency · 3 years

Note

Hello! I saw your fic ask request post. I would like to request Nose on the Grindstone and Cobb Vanth. Thank you!

nose on the grindstone

pairing: cobb vanth / reader

word count: 880

summary: cobb has a nightmare and you’re there to comfort him.

a/n: i’ve been listening to so much tyler childers lately holy shit y’all. this is heavy in the start but it gets softer i swear i did the thing! i hope you enjoy this anon 💕

warnings: depictions of violence/abuse, implied descriptions of cobb being a slave, nightmare w the aforementioned stuff

request a playlist drabble here!

“one of these days, cobb, you’ll get out of these chains, but today ain’t that day. keep your head straight and keep lookin’ down, nose on the grindstone.”

the day his pa’s back gave out is one he relives regularly. the twin suns shone down with the same intensity they’ve always forced onto the planet below, painting the picture for another grueling day. surviving the tatooine heat wasn’t a matter of if it would kill you, it was a matter of when. cobb had been keeping his head down, doing exactly as he was told for once when he heard frantic shouts from all sides of him. his eyes darted across the clearing to another vaporator; what was going on?

the answer was found when he heard a weak shout of his name from his father. how it carried across the sands cobb will never know. his pa had collapsed, whether from the heat or another injury cobb didn’t know. his feet were pushing him towards his pa, ignoring the advice of the other slaves around him. all he saw was his pa, the last piece of family he had on this forsaken planet, and the way he looked seconds from sinking into the sands. he kept running and running, so much that he was barely noticing the way his body was starting to sink into the dunes until it was up to his knees and steadily pulling him down—

you were roused from sleep by chaotic tossing and turning. barely conscious, you grumbled and tried to turn over, thinking cobb was about to full-body cuddle with you in the name of dramatics. from time to time he would show his jester side, proclaiming that he was stranded to the bed until he was given a true love’s kiss. he always saw the way you smiled when you’d free him from his little “curse” and you knew that those mornings would unload bits of his grief. but then you registered the way cobb seemed unaware of what he was doing as he writhed about. a kick to your shin had you yelp in shock and brought you to the grim realization: he was having a nightmare.

you rolled out of the bed with haste, knowing that being too close during these times was never a good idea. it hurt to watch him struggle with his past, but you knew that what he was experiencing was far worse. he needed your support more than anything, and you were going to be there when he woke and every day after, like you have been since he let you in.

when his thrashing slowed, you kneeled next to his head and slowly began whispering to him. simple things about where he was, who was with him, the fact he was safe and free and oh so loved. his eyes slowly started to blink open and you cooed encouragement, urging him to wake up.

he was disoriented as he slowly opened his eyes. his met yours in their bleary confusion, wondering why you were on the floor instead of in his arms. the realization dawns on him and he’s immediately apologizing, pulling you back into bed and unraveling like wet flimsi. what little coherent words he spoke were oozing in guilt for waking you. you would have none of it.

“no cobb, you have nothing to apologize for. do you hear me? nothing.” you gently held his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you. an errant tear slips and you brush it away with your thumb. “you were brave for so long just trying to survive, and now that you’re here with me, you don’t have to hide. i support you the same way you support me. i love you, let me help you carry that weight.”

you held him tighter that night than you ever had as he opened up to you like a desert bloom. about the benders he was on after being freed, what little he knew of his familyand the origins of a phrase that fell from his lips with unbent regularity. “pa always told me to keep my nose on the grindstone. to keep my head down and focus on my work no matter what was happenin’ around me. it was his way of tryin’ to protect me, but it still gives me chills when i think about it.”

his mind drifted off to times where he didn’t heed his father’s advice and the consequences that followed. all he wanted to do was help, but it was survival of the fittest when your life was owned by another. it’s why he emphasized the importance of helping your neighbor in mos pelgo the way he did; he knew what it was like to live in a world where all you could focus on was your own survival and never wanted to go back to that.

“he would be so proud of you. you’ve helped so many people by freeing this town. you’re the most selfless man i know, cobb.” he doesn’t give you a verbal reply, choosing instead to just pull you closer to him, letting your weight on top of him anchor him to the bed. he is safe here, he is loved here. he is free.

cobb vanth taglist: @hornystarwarsbisexual @purelypascal @jedi-mando @darklingveracruz @whovianwar @andysficrecs @obirain

#cobb vanth #cobb vanth imagines #cobb vanth x reader #the mandalorian #cobb vanth x you #nose on the grindstone #playlist drabbles #the mandalorian season two #timothy olyphant

61 notes · View notes

feminaexlux · 3 years

Text

Fall to Me

TBH I realize belatedly after writing this that Truth was fomenting chaos in my soul and it needed to be taken the fuck out with a proverbial shotgun

Anyway here's a fic that was based off of Truth and without knowledge of the rest of S4 so far, just in case nothing makes sense

I also know I promised smangst (smut + angst) but I got tired/lazy and @mintaka14 posted something I felt was eerily similar (or just reminded me I needed to get this done) so I wanted to get this out the door

Read on AO3 here!

Rated M for language I guess?

⁂

Luka was in a precarious situation. He was lying half-naked on Marinette's chaise, with Marinette herself lying half-naked on him. She let out a quiet sleepy giggle when she brushed her thigh against his raging hard-on, still unfortunately trapped under his over-tight jeans. His neck felt sore where she'd bitten him and he figured there'd be a pretty obvious bruise there soon.

His chest was also similarly marked.

He woke up like this. He had woken up when he had needed to sneeze because some hair got all up in his face. He then realized he had a whole-ass person on top of him. And that person was the girl he had been in love with for years. He had gently brushed away her hair and she had hummed out a "Mmmm, Luuuuka," that got him hot-and-bothered and unable to go back to sleep. He kinda didn't want to wake her in fear of this whole precarious situation blowing up in his face.

⁂

This all started a week ago with Dingo, that fucker. Well, sort of. Maybe. Maybe that was all circumstantial. But Dingo had 2 extra tickets to The Bondsmiths and Ding had given them to Luka. Juleka was busy with stuff, his Ma wasn't into this newfangled noise, Ivan wouldn't go without Mylene, Mylene was in Spain on vacation, Rose was "stuff," and if Dingo was involved most of Luka's other friends wouldn't be.

He'd just thrown it out into a group chat "Hey I have an extra ticket anyone want to come?" and Marinette was the one that said "me~!" Luka and Dingo had a tense stare off when Dingo handed over the tickets.

Her? Dingo's sharp brown eyes seemed to say.

Luka stared back coolly. Yes. We're friends.

Dingo fucking smirked. How much longer, eh? Cheers, mate. He gave the tickets to Luka with a smarmy wink.

The night of the showing Luka got stuck being the designated driver. He was used to it. The concert area was indoors and packed. Ding almost got shitfaced and Brielle had to keep him from falling over. At least the sets were fantastic. When the concert was closing at around 02:34 Ding and Brielle were having sloppy disgusting make-outs, making both Luka and Marinette ever so slightly uncomfortable.

That was when it all started getting weird. Weirder.

Brielle came up for air and told Luka that she and Ding would take a cab back, so all Luka would need to do was drop off Marinette. Luka shrugged and did just that, but Marinette invited him up to crash at her place because it was already so late and he looked so tired. He was about to pass on that when Marinette mentioned that her parents were on vacation in China and wouldn't be back for a whole month, just… out of the blue.

Before he could formulate any sort of coherent response she took his hand and pulled him up the stairs to the living room, sat him on the couch, started brewing some chamomile tea for the both of them, and talked about the concert. Marinette smiled at him after handing him a mug and short-circuited his brain again. "That was fun!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed," Luka smiled back, sipping his tea.

She sat down next to him and brushed her hair back over her ear. A shiny black earring seemed to glimmer with the light it caught. "I'm really glad I was able to go with you."

His head was empty except for noticing the light blush she had on her cheeks. She looked up at him with her big blue eyes, and somehow Luka got the sense that she was… expecting something? Oh, a response, duh. "Same. It's always nice to hang out with you."

She smiled, drank the rest of her tea and set it aside. "Luka, can I kiss you?"

… What? Wow, alright he was tired. He thought he heard her ask him if she could kiss him. He was already in the half-asleep pseudo-dream state and probably imagined that whole thing. Goddamn he was such a simp for her. "Heh," he said noncommittally.

Marinette blinked at him. "Is that a… a no?"

"Hmm?"

She scooted closer to him and he took a big gulp of his tea to hide his nervousness. "You… don't want me to kiss you?"

Oh God he heard that correctly. He sputtered and coughed, covering his mouth with a fist. "Wh-what?" He blushed hard.

She blushed as well. "Sorry! I'm sorry. I-I-I thought… um."

Several years ago they had tried to date but she'd always been… unavailable. So they kept hanging out as friends, which was… fine. It was fine. They'd never even gotten to really do anything together as a couple but as friends? It went better.

He wasn't over her. Never tried to convince himself he was. But he also honestly hadn't expected her to want to get back together. So… what changed? She sighed heavily, her complexion calming back down. "Nothing changed. Not really." She looked down toward the floor at her feet and he finally realized he asked that last thought out loud. "I… maybe I guess I did." She looked back up at him. "I've been thinking lately that I just want… to do something for me, for once. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" She trailed off and stared back at the floor.

"I've never stopped wanting to be with you." Oh shit he said it. She looked back up at him and he awkwardly took another swallow of tea and looked away. "Sounds bad. I guess it is," he said eventually.

"But you didn't tell me?"

He met her eyes. "You were happy. You were with Adrien. I can't force my feelings on you."

She took a breath and let it out slowly. "I was, yeah." Her words hung in the air.

Luka hadn't figured out what happened to break up the state of Adrienette, but when he came back from touring with Jagged, Marinette and Adrien were "just friends" again. Luka wasn't sure how long ago the split happened and after 2 or 3 years apart did he even know Marinette anymore?

She had welcomed him back to Paris as a more grown up Marinette, not actually so different than he had remembered her. She had more confidence, less anxiety, a spine of steel. She was in charge of herself and it was so good to see her so sure.

He didn't want to mess that up for her in any way. So they remained friends for 2 more years. And for one reason or another they both kept being single.

He had somehow reintegrated back in her inner circle of friends. Luka saw for himself that Marinette and Adrien had a lot of history in their little in-jokes and double talk, dropping code phrases and making each other laugh at random. Maybe they'd reignite that spark and Luka didn't want to be caught in the resulting blaze. Even if they didn't, underneath it all he worried about being disappointed and left in the dark by Marinette like he'd been all those years ago.

Not that it did anything to change his attraction to her. He was a sucker for girls like her, except there had only ever been the one.

Marinette took his free hand and squeezed it gently. "I was happy, yes. And… I was hoping I could be again. With you?"

⁂

Slowly, Marinette thought, take it slow. She did spring this on him a little suddenly but hey, it felt right, and she had it on relatively good authority that it was time. At this point in her life she knew to trust her gut instinct and friendly advice. Although she felt more okay with this because her head was sliiightly impaired right now.

She also thought that he'd jump on… her, she supposed, given the opportunity - but he was uncharacteristically reserved. Was it uncharacteristic? Maybe not. He'd always been pretty laid back and easy going.

And observant.

Which meant he was thinking and had doubts about them. Well, shit. Okay. She didn't make it easy on them the last time they tried anything like this. Actually, Hawkmoth had made life difficult for her so there hadn't even been an opportunity for a them.

He sighed softly and squeezed her hand back. "I want… this. I do. But there's still something that worries me."

Alright, fuck going slow. "I'm Ladybug. I am now and I was then. That's why I kept disappearing." This was alright, it was kind of an open secret by this point in her superhero career. Her parents knew, her closest friends knew, and Luka was a close friend she wanted even closer, so he should know.

His mouth was slightly open and his eyebrows shot up. "Ah."

"Things are… okay now, aren't they? I'm not needed like I was before."

He smiled a little and his worried expression softened, understanding. "That… does explain a lot of things but that's not the only thing I was worried about."

That surprised Marinette. And actually now she started to worry herself. What other red flags had she given him? Shit. She'd been a basket case in her earlier teens but she'd left behind the Teenage Angst Things and graduated to Adult Things, hadn't she? Fuck.

He chuckled. "It's not --all-- a you thing, this is a me thing," he said.

"Oh please don't give me the 'It's not you it's me' talk when we haven't started anything," Marinette interrupted.

He snorted, putting down his empty tea mug on the table. "Yeah, I still want to give you some context," he continued. "First off, I'm not like Dad, I don't want to be a big rock star with all that baggage. I just wanna play music and do small gigs and have fun. I'm not gonna be rolling in money and I can't give you everything that you'd possibly want."

Marinette blinked. "I… already knew that?"

"Second, if you do want to 'start' things I promise you I'm not just going to let you go again."

Marinette bit back a smile. "Alright. Are we entering some kind of agreement here? Is this a pre-nup?" She stuck her tongue out at him.

"We're already getting married?" He laughed.

"Not if you don't want to kiss me!" He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.

Soft, warm, simple. Real.

She placed her hands on his face and brought him in for another kiss, stopping him from pulling back all the way. "More," she breathed out.

⁂

"More?" Luka thought. It was… an odd ask but okay… He was sort of interested in more as well so why not? Except well, there were a few things clarified but he really meant to talk about things in detail before diving into… her mouth like he just did. Her fingers worked their way through his hair, her nails skimming across his scalp sending shivers down his spine. She gave back as much as she was receiving from him in their make-out and if he had to taste only one thing for the remainder of his life he'd want it to be her: sweet, warming, with notes of chamomile, bourbon, vodka, and rum.

This was getting a little too indulgent but most of him didn't mind. One part of him craved this from her, but… wait, shit. Bourbon? Vodka? Rum? She'd been drinking, dumbass. Shit. "Mm--" He tried to say her name to get her attention, maybe slow them down a bit -- okay, a lot -- but she had just leaned back on the couch and he was pulled down with her still relentlessly kissing him. "Mar--" he tried again, but she took that opportunity to take his bottom lip gently between her teeth. One of her hands went to his hips and she grabbed a belt loop and hooked a finger under his jeans, tugging him closer.

Oh boy.

He broke free from her a little reluctantly. "Hold on," he chuckled nervously after pulling back. "Wait a sec."

Her eyes went wide open and she froze. She pulled back her hands and stuttered out a "W-was that bad? S-Sorry! Oh I'm so--"

He pressed two fingers to her lips to stop the torrent of apologies. Apparently the penchant of apologizing for everything wouldn't change about Marinette even if she'd been drinking. "Marinette, you had a few drinks. I don't… I don't think…" He sighed, sitting back up.

"I only had 3?" Marinette squeaked.

"4. You finished off Brielle's."

"I-I think I'm pretty sober?"

"But you're not sure."

"I'm… sober enough, aren't I?"

"I'm not confident making that call."

"But I… I want this," Marinette said quietly but firmly. "I really want this."

The thought that kept mentally slapping Luka across the face was But will you still want this in the morning? Well. He had to be honest with himself. It was really Will you still want me in the morning?

Her knowing the general trajectory of his life and joking about marriage aside, she hadn't said anything about wanting him. Wanting a "this" and wanting to be happy again, sure. Having him along for the ride, sure. But actually wanting him and all he was? Still unclear.

And even if she said she wanted him, would he believe her? She'd been 14, yes, but she said she wanted to date and… never actually followed through, Ladybug duties aside. He sighed to himself. She hadn't been ready. That wasn't her fault. She couldn't tell him then.

But that time of being left behind didn't magically evaporate with an explanation.

He didn't think he was bitter or resentful but all of that was hitting him full-force now. Not again, his head warned him. Not again. You don't have to deal with that. And yeah, he didn't have to deal with that... Sometimes a heartbreak was worth braving.

He needed some time to think about if this was worth braving.

He felt Marinette shuffling at his side but he didn't give in to the temptation to look. He stared down at his hands, his elbows propped on his knees as he slumped forward.

"Can… Can I hear what you're thinking?" Marinette asked softly. There was a little bit of uncertainty in her voice. He didn't say anything for several heartbeats. "Luka?"

Well, at least she didn't call him Adrien. That was a plus. God that'd been once and it still left an awful taste in his mouth. "You should probably head to bed. We can talk later." Later. There was always later. Except he was tired of later. It'd been better when he didn't have to tell himself he could wait. It'd been better when he hadn't had anything to wait for.

Easier. Not better. He had to give her that.

"No," she said. "I'd like to talk now if that's alright. I'd like to… understand." Right, she was better at standing her ground. She wasn't 14 anymore. He wasn't 16 and naïvely hopeful anymore.

He probably wasn't going to sleep anyway. "I don't know how to trust you."

⁂

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Marinette felt the all too familiar cold panic settling on her shoulders like it always did. Of course he didn't trust her, she wouldn't trust herself fully now with how things played out back then. She was definitely getting a headache.

Fucking Cockmoth. Fucking Guardianship. Fucking… Adr--no, she made her peace with Adrien. They were past that now. Fucking… obligations and wrangling all those threads in her life to hold together. Marinette figured she was done with all that, but…

At the epicenter of all of these problems was her. She had to admit, it wasn't her fault but it became her responsibility to treat those around her as fairly as she could. And she hadn't been fair with Luka.

God, she spent hours staring at pictures of Adrien and drooling over every damn appearance. When she tried to get past the crush the whole universe was conspiring to push her to indulge it instead. And worst yet, she did indulge it while trying to date Luka! This was… she should have seen it coming. Who in their right mind wouldn't be at least a little bit wary of her intense obsession over Adrien in her formative years influencing her now? It defined who she was for a long time.

But she was different now, she grew up. She just needed to show it, right?

Wait. There was something about the way he said what he said. "You don't know how to trust me?" He nodded. "Do… do you at all?"

"Mostly." Okay, so there was still a tiny sliver of a chance? "I trust you with almost everything."

"Except?"

"Except me." He paused for a moment. "And you've been drinking."

But! But I… Yeah. "Okay." Her being slightly impaired did make things a little complicated. And maybe that was the reason why she was being a bit impulsive right now, the alcohol was fast-forwarding her decision making process. Marinette let out a breath she held in. "Will you stay here tonight?"

He raised an eyebrow but relented with a "Yeah."

"Come upstairs with me?"

He raised the other eyebrow as well, looking nervous. "Upstairs? To your room?"

"Yes, I wanted to--" It took a second but it clicked. What she asked didn't sound any less impulsive with how he probably interpreted that. "Oh I'm not going to seduce you or anything I just was thinking it'd be nicer for you if you were using my daybed instead of the couch here but I guess it could sound a little like I'm asking for sex which I'm not. I mean unless you consider making-out se--okay nevermind!" Wow, way to go, Marinette. Her face was burning with embarrassment. "I'll bring down a blanket!"

Okay, she had to admit it, she was definitely more than a little tipsy. She felt lightheaded when she stood up quickly. She tried to hide her disorientation as best she could as she walked away, heading toward the ladder leading up to the hatch. She'd been so focused on seeming not-drunk that she bonked her head at the top climbing up. "Ouch!"

"Are you alright?" Luka asked, and even tipsy Marinette could hear the puzzled amusement in his voice.

"I'm fine," Marinette muttered. She forced open the entry and it slammed open on the other side with a loud thunk. Fuck, she wasn't at all convincing him that she was sober. She slipped off her shoes and sat back down on her chaise/daybed, feeling incredibly embarrassed at herself. This was not at all going the way she hoped. He still felt betrayed at the things that happened when she was an idiot teenager. Should she have known? He never told her!

But he never told her because he never thought they'd get back together. That was obvious in the way he said all the things he said.

He did want to be with her. He did want her. But he'd been so hurt by what happened and… she never knew. No, of course she knew, he was akumatized by it. He'd carried that for so long and let her live her life without her knowing. Damn it, she needed to… she needed to make this right.

How could she make this right?

She was unsurprised as she felt the cool streaks of tears falling down her cheeks. In the morning, they'll talk. Ignoring the fact that it was already morning, she knew they both just needed to put this aside and get some rest for now. She heard shuffling and Luka making his way up the ladder. She quickly wiped her eyes.

"Hey, you doing okay?" He had a clear look of concern on his face, kneeling down in front of her. "Is your head hurting?"

"Oh no, sorry, I just spaced out."

"You hit your head that hard?" Luka asked, sounding even more concerned.

"No, no. I-I was… My head's fine, Luka." She sighed. "Just. Thinking, is all. Sorry, let me get the blanket."

He looked up at her a bit more keenly. "You've been crying." A simple statement.

"Yeah," Marinette said quietly, defeatedly. "But I'm okay." She pasted on a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She started getting up but he caught her attention and spoke with some hesitation.

"I don't need the blanket. I'm probably not going to sleep," he said with a half smile, sitting down on the floor in front of her. "Too much going on here," he tapped against his temple. "I'm guessing the same for you?"

"Yeah again," she said, smiling for real this time. "Can we keep talking?"

"We can. I thought it'd be better if you got some rest but sleep isn't coming for either of us anyway." The lights in her room were muted but she could see the bags forming under his eyes. He passed his hands over his chin, lightly scratching at the stubble coming in.

"I was really kind of… no, not kind of. I was awful when we dated before."

"You weren't awful. You just weren't there. I understand that you had Paris to save," he added quickly when she had furrowed her eyebrows. "But the fact remains that I wasn't able to spend any time with you. Juleka kept telling me to watch out and that you dated me only because Adrien wasn't available to date anymore. I was hoping you'd change your mind and you would want to be with me, but then you were making time for him and your other friends while I was left waiting. I'm a human being, Marinette, not a doormat. You forgot about me. It was miserable and I felt like shit. I almost regretted asking you out at all."

⁂

Ah, fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. There were none of his usual filters. He just spewed all that out there. It was all true but maybe he should've let it go? She was young and dumb, anyone at that age was capable of making stupid-ass mistakes. Luka himself made soooo many of them. It'd been like 5 years since their breakup, maybe he should just get over it already. Marinette was in his arms literal minutes ago and he had to go and get like this. And he made her cry again. Nice one, Couffaine.

This was the worst sort of crying. She went absolutely still with a solemn expression, being oppressively silent while the tears fell from her eyes. He felt his mouth go dry and he swallowed. "I--" he cut himself off.

Marinette nodded her head so slightly Luka almost didn't see the motion. "I didn't make time for you," she agreed, her voice tiny and broken.

He suddenly wanted to make a quip about knowing all about time and giving Second Chances to let them both recover but that would be disingenuous and corny as hell. He wasn't so sure he believed in them much anymore. And maybe the way this played out was better anyway, at the very least he needed to own what he said as he couldn't take back his words.

Marinette broke the silence. "I… I wasn't very happy with myself back then. I did make a lot of bad decisions. I didn't give you… much of anything I guess."

He smiled a little. "I still have that pendant."

"I could have given you more. I could have been doing so much more. And I didn't. I didn't," she repeated, a hitch in her voice.

Fuck. He could meet her halfway at least. "It sounded like you had a lot to deal with. You knew your friends better so it makes a lot of sense that you'd prefer to hang out with them. I was just some guy. The brother of a friend. I wasn't that important in the long run."

"Don't say that," Marinette cringed a little. She wrapped her arms around herself. "You were--are important. I was… I was scared. Of a lot of things. A lot of stupid things." She shivered slightly. "I was a little scared of disappointing you. I was scared that maybe I had used you to… make me feel better about myself. I was scared that you'd never see all of me. I was scared that Hawkmoth would use you against me and your family and Paris if you knew I was Ladybug and it happened anyway without you knowing about me. I was so stupid back then."

He sighed. "Hey, please don't beat yourself up. I didn't want to make you feel like you have to explain what happened in the past. I got too… wrapped up in how I felt back then. We didn't work out and that's just life." It hadn't been their time.

Did he still love her? Sure. But they'd been better off as friends. She even made a point of trying to hang out with him nowadays. She told him everything that was on her mind. She gave him small gifts here and there, made it to all of his gigs, invited him to all of her fashion showings. They saw the movies and concerts they wanted to see together. When she felt lost or sad he was the first one she reached out to.

As… friends?

There was this uncomfortable feeling tugging at the back of his mind. He felt it at the base of his skull, a slow dawning realization. But… he almost didn't want to acknowledge it as it could have been just some phantom hope that she would love him like he sometimes dreamed. It was way too easy to get lost in some fantasy.

Maybe he was just scared himself. Scared of being ghosted again if he picked up this hope and tried to make it real. In a roundabout way he was saying that, at least.

Okay. Time to bite the bullet. He leaned forward and put his hand on her elbow. "I know we're hanging out a lot more now. I'm sincerely enjoying all the times we get to do stuff together. I'm grateful that you're giving me all that." This is it. Just say it out loud. "I'm saying that if we want to be more than friends, I'm scared that you're going to leave me again."

Whew. Was that so bad? Actually yeah it was terrifying.

There was a grimace on Marinette's face. "I… I-I understand," she said weakly. "I understand why you'd be afraid of that. But I don't know how to prove to you that I won't?"

It felt like the world shifted, the same as the first time he ever saw her. That earlier hope was coiling around his heart, making it beat faster. "You won't?"

She kept looking pained. "J-Just so you know I t-totally get it if you wanna stay friends or… or something, but I-I want… I know I messed up and I get pretty crazy sometimes so maybe you don't want anything to do with me after this and it's completely your right to do that--"

"Hold on," Luka interrupted her, half anxious and half this is so Marinette. "I'm not--" She put her fingers to his lips to quiet him.

"B-But I have to ask if you could give me a second chance?"

⁂

Marinette pulled her head back a bit and got annoyed at herself. "Sorry, that wasn't supposed to be a pun. O-On your… history as Viperion."

Great, so not only had she made an ass of herself but she just unintentionally punned at Luka. Marinette intensely disliked when Chat had made those inappropriately annoying puns whenever moments were tense. She seemingly picked up the habit, ugh.

Luka laughed and the tension was cut a bit. Maybe Adrien wasn't so wrong to have joked all the time. Luka took her hand into his and pressed his face against her palm. "Alright, alright," he breathed out. Instantly Marinette's heart started beating faster. "I just wanted you to hear me out. You do hear me, right?"

Marinette nodded. "I hear you." There was a slightly rough and tickling sensation under her finger tips as she was able to feel some of his 5-o'clock-shadow (except what was it now, 4am?). Funny, she didn't notice that so much when she'd been kissing him.

"Then you should know that even though I've been scared, I could never stop hoping you'd warm back up to me." He gently folded her hand in his and smiled up at her. "Do you want to go out to dinner with me? We don't have to get married along the way."

"W-Well, yes to dinner, or maybe breakfast? But I mean," Marinette said, attempting for casual but probably still coming across nervous. "Don't throw that whole marriage idea out yet. I'm still not sure how to… prove things?"

He smiled. "Spend some quality time with me. That's all. It doesn't have to be big."

"Okay, breakfast and dinner. And lunch, too." She wanted to spend all the time she could with him. He wasn't asking for much -- to be honest he never asked for much, and this was something she wanted to give.

Luka smiled, probably thinking she was joking. "Think you can get some rest now?" He asked. "I can head back downstairs--"

"No! No, no, I mean, stay here with me. I-If you want."

"You're not trying to seduce me, are you?" He grinned.

"Well, I can," Marinette grinned back. "Can I?"

He seemed a little surprised by that. "Uh," he blushed.

How cute, he got flustered. Capitalizing on that, Marinette leaned forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders, her forehead against his. "I'd really like to," she whispered.

"How... inebriated are you?"

She sighed. "Do you really think I'd be having a coherent conversation with you if I was drunk?"

"You tell me, Ladybug."

"Luka Couffaine, you are a gentleman but I'm merely... warm and not even buzzed anymore. I would definitely still like to seduce you."

He blinked a few times. "Oh." He paused again, thinking it through. He gave a little laugh. "I'd really like that too."

53 notes · View notes

wedreamedlove · 3 years

Photo

Xu Mo vs. Mo Yi [Character Study]

I can never get over the aesthetic of these two pictures placed side by side LOL. But, anyway, the point of this post is to nip any undue comparisons in the bud and claims of copying organize my thoughts and compare these two characters to highlight their similarities, differences, and further explore each character through these contrasts.

Q) If you like Xu Mo, would you like Mo Yi?

Honestly, I think this depends on what you like most about Xu Mo. I already knew beforehand that I gravitate towards characters who think 5 steps ahead, are predominantly logical, and scholars/gentlemen, so it’s not surprising I bias both Xu Mo and Mo Yi.

However, as I got to know Mo Yi further (Themis is around 6 months old now), I find that he’s distinctively different from Xu Mo on three crucial points that’ll determine whether people from either camp will like the other character.

1) Stance on Others

In a post for Xu Mo, “Into Your World”, I argued that Xu Mo is an alienated genius who had troubles getting along with others, until he mastered the social game as an adult. However, you can still see glimpses of this as he tries to understand MC’s world and shares his own.

To be fair, Mo Yi’s past is still under wraps but I feel confident in saying that, while he was probably highly intelligent compared to his peers [SR Sculpted Heart], his isolation doesn’t seem to come from his innate nature but rather his social position (there’s heavy implications that he’s like some sort of noble or something) [SR Snowy Pine Fairytale].

IMO, these backgrounds really shaped the way these two men interact with the world.

Xu Mo has a detached and indifferent view towards other people. They simply exist and don’t bring anything positive or negative to him. His ambition to ensure the survival of humanity reflects this too because it’s pure utilitarianism; everyone (apart from MC) can be sacrificed equally for the greater good. If anything, he probably finds other people to be interesting subjects to study, no matter what kind of person they are. IIRC the only time he expressed dislike to people, or a group of people, was when he told Hades he enjoyed killing thieves LOL.

Meanwhile, Mo Yi has an elitist streak to the point where he and his MC actually clashed opinions and debated each other [SR Warm Fingertips]. It’s incredibly ironic because he’s a psychiatrist who treats his patients without judgment, but at the same time he looks down on so many things and people (PUAs, people who betray love, hypocrites who only seek power and fame) [Ch2; Personal Story Ch1-3; SSR Moonlit Ball].

One of the things I noticed early on is that Xu Mo draws from the Eastern scholar archetype, “Xu Mo Character Study”, while Mo Yi actually draws more from the Western gentleman archetype.

So, just to summarize this section, Xu Mo is detached from the world naturally and likes to observe people and try to blend in. Mo Yi deliberately draws a line between him and others and, at times, has the casual cruelty of someone born as nobility (arrogance is carved into his bones, even if he tends to keep it low-key because he generally has a “gentle and polite” attitude).

2) Stance on Love

Xu Mo didn’t understand love, or really even emotions. Love is grown between him and his MC (there’s multiple analogies throughout the game about how their love is like a seed). I think [Ch25] pretty much sums it up for Xu Mo, where he goes through that emotional rollercoaster and muses about how, at the end of human evolution, emotions should be discarded. He also admits that MC taught him the “fear” of a normal person, because now he has someone he cannot give up no matter what, which goes against his previous utilitarian beliefs.

Compared to this, Mo Yi fell in love at first sight. Yes, you read that right. The “scientist and logical” archetype fell in love at first sight LOL. Not only does he acknowledge it right off the bat, but he fully embraces it too and believes that real love makes people better versions of themselves [Personal Story]. Mo Yi is a through and through psychiatrist in that he never underestimates how primal emotions (and love) can be.

Heck, not only is this central to his personal story, but we also have hints that one of Mo Yi’s parents fell in love at first sight with the other person (and he inherited their predisposition for that). Unfortunately, their love had a tragic end and Mo Yi seems to have a huge grudge against his father for whatever happened to his mother (again, Mihoyo is keeping this a mystery LOL), but Mo Yi explicitly confirms that even if his love leads to a tragic end he will still walk down this road and attempt to change it [SR Cool Summer].

IMO one other difference between them re: love is this exchange that lives rent free in my head which I saw in a Xu Mo/Reader/Mo Yi fanfiction LOL. Bear with me here.

Mo Yi: Wearing a mask for a long time will tire you.

Xu Mo: It’s enough just to wear one in front of the necessary person.

Xu Mo and his MC make great efforts to understand each other’s worlds, but this understanding comes from the doors he chooses to open to her. He reveals himself as much as possible, but I think he’s an inherently private person (and there’s all that Ares stuff) so there are times where he hides things so that he doesn’t worry his MC. I think this is enough to count as a “mask”. Sometimes he pretends he’s okay when he’s not.

On the other hand, while I think Mo Yi shares the sentiment in not wanting his MC to worry unduly, he tries to reveal himself as much as possible. There’s an amazingly relatable conflict in him here where he wants her to know every side of him, but he’s also terrified of how she’ll react if he shows her his ugliest sides and imperfect sides (he has some sort of phobia or fear about imperfection, but Mihoyo has been keeping mum on the exact details of this so far) [Personal Story; SR Sculpted Heart].

It’s pretty ironic that Mo Yi wants to be perfect, but he realizes that the more perfect he is the more of a sense of distance there’ll be between him and his MC because of the subconscious pressure someone “perfect” brings LOL [SSR Border of Light and Darkness].

3) Stance on Growth

If you haven’t realized that one of Xu Mo’s greatest themes is the phrase “Take your time in growing”, then what have you been reading? Jkjk, but seriously this gets repeated in multiple places, although my brain always goes back to [Blossom Date] for this.

Even if he and his MC start off with fundamental differences (she believes all people have inherent worth and can’t be involuntarily sacrificed), he wants to personally watch the journey of her maturation. He also subtly guides and teaches her. Unfortunately, due to circumstances of the main story, he doesn’t get his wish and she grows up a lot out of his eyes, but their relationship still revolves around him wanting her to have as much time as possible to grow.

He’s, for a lack of better word, extremely gentle about this (setting aside as much of the Ares and story parts as we can, because LovePro’s story is tragedy on tragedy LOL). I think [Autumn Blaze Date] shows a good analogy for this, because he holds the bicycle steady for MC until she can get going on her own, and he also catches her the first time.

Meanwhile, Mo Yi... ha ha ha. I just came out of chapter 3 for his [Personal Story] and let’s just say his philosophy is tough love. It’s ironic because, in many of his other dates, he wrestles with an internal conflict to protect his MC but also to let her experience all sorts of things to both test and temper her.

This is going to touch on the previous topic about love for a moment, but a part of Mo Yi’s love at first sight experience is also “testing” the other person through all sorts of situations and, after seeing all their different sides, he can determine whether his love at first sight is one that’ll last for the rest of his life or if it’s just a fleeting moment of beauty and emotion.

He also extremely respects his MC’s sense of justice and pursuit of the truth in the world, no matter what she encounters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this is what drew him to her in the first place. But MC’s occupation and beliefs will make her confront a lot of dark and dangerous things and so, whenever possible, Mo Yi lets her confront these in “controlled” situations to train her. If I had to make an analogy, IMO, he’d let his MC ride the bicycle and pick her up only after she falls, or when she’s like 0.1cm away from the ground LOL.

Mo Yi is (perhaps rightfully) called out on this by another character, who believes Mo Yi is too arrogant in believing everything is under his control and he can prevent MC from getting hurt whenever he lets her get into dangerous situations, and I’m interested to see if Mihoyo will let him experience failures with his philosophy so he can grow more, like the things Xu Mo went through re: his personal beliefs [Ch24].

Overall

I don’t know how well I explained myself, especially for people who don’t know anything about Mo Yi, and each section goes back and forth between the two characters LOL so here’s another section that attempts to describe their overall atmosphere.

If, like I said in my Headcanon Notes, Xu Mo makes me immediately think of all the words for soft, gentle, light, still, water, etc etc., then the words I constantly think about for Mo Yi is messily human. He’s like a bundle of contradictions, but coherent because it’s being intentionally done.

Mo Yi doesn’t discriminate against his patients, yet he can be elitist and looks down on others. He wants to let MC have dangerous experiences, but also wants to protect her. He wants to be perfect, but he also wants to reveal himself entirely to his MC because that’s real love.

In contrast, Xu Mo has a very clean and orderly personality LOL. You can draw clear cause and effect lines from his personality to his actions.

So, anyway, these are two interesting characters who start off with similar archetypes as scientific logical men of scholar/gentleman dispositions, but yet they’re also on opposite ends for a lot of things such as their approach to emotions and the world.

Oh wait, lastly, because I don’t have a good place to put this—but I think it’s funny—is that both characters are pretty possessive and greedy, but while Xu Mo does things in a sneaky, cunning and fox-like way Mo Yi gets ridiculously open about his jealousy and it’s hilariously cute but also almost childish? I often forget Mo Yi is older than Xu Mo by a year, because Xu Mo honestly feels a bit more mature than him LOL. If we count them actually aging by when their game came out though, then Mo Yi is 28 and Xu Mo is 29 now.

#mr love queen's choice #tears of themis #mlqc xu mo #mlqc lucien #wdsjb mo yi #love and producer #weiding shijian bu #mlqc #love and produc(ing) meta #tears of meta

124 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 3 years

Text

Cat Crossing Chapter 2

As bad as it was to accidentally reveal his identity to one of his friends, Adrien was sure he could smooth things over somehow. After all, who could possibly be smoother than him?

I posted this on Ao3 a few days ago, but completely forgot to post it here too! I wrote Cat Crossing last year for @sweetsweetsweetie‘s birthday and decided to give the much-demanded second chapter as this year’s present.

You can find the first chapter here for some Animal Crossing, Marichat goodness. Read on to see Marinette being a super flirt, and Adrien being completely unable to handle it.

Enjoy!

-----

Adrien had a fitful night’s sleep after he panic-disconnected from Animal Crossing. He wasn’t entirely sure if doing that would damage his save file or not, but he just couldn’t bring himself to worry about that right now.

No, there was a much more serious, pressing issue at the moment - Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a civilian, had discovered his identity through her clever deductive skills and through not fault of his own. At least, that was how he’d phrase it to Ladybug. Hopefully she believed him. Because otherwise…? Well, he was going to be in trouble.

“So, what’s the plan, big cat?” Plagg asked, sounding far too chipper about all this, with his wide grin and the amused gleam in his eyes. Adrien would have thought that his kwami would have been the more scared of the two of them, but there was no time to question that now.

Especially since his kwami had asked him that same question last night after Adrien had explained just how badly he’d messed up - and just who had discovered his true identity. All he could say then was that he’d sleep on it and something would come to him in the morning.

Well, the morning was here and as he stepped off the limo dropping him off at school, he had absolutely nothing to show for it. The only bright side is that he was here early enough that he could still hash things out with Plagg before classes started. With that intent in mind, Adrien rushed inside and made a beeline for the empty lockers.

“Okay…” Adrien ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to keep cool and stay optimistic. “Well, at least it was her and not some random person, right?”

Plagg’s grin only grew. “Oh yeah, definitely. Probably the best person you could have accidentally revealed yourself to.”

“Right…” Adrien gave Plagg a suspicious glance. “We know Marinette. She’s shy, she’s a good friend, she’s honest. She wouldn’t intentionally reveal my identity, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Plagg pretended to inspect his paws. “She places a real high value on honesty, kid. And she’s best pals with the one and only Ladyblogger - a fact you know only all too well.”

“Yes, and-”

“Cuz you stare at pictures of Ladybug on there all the time.”

“Not all the time-”

Plagg shrugged. “Eh, close enough. But back to pigtails - what’s the plan?”

“Well, we know she’s shy, right? So what if I really ramp up the Chat Noir charm on her? And while she’s still trying to get her bearings I tell her how important it is to keep identities secret and everything.”

Adrien nodded slowly to himself, feeling the framework of a plan coming together. A few zingers and flirty lines started forming in his head. “That should buy us enough time until we see Ladybug again. I bet she’ll know what to do.”

It was at that moment Adrien closed the locker door and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw that Marinette was oh so casually leaning up against the locker beside him.

“I didn’t catch that last part,” she said, a knowing smirk on her face. “Who will know what to do? Or, even better, just who were you talking to?”

“I… um…” Adrien swallowed, confronted with Marinette leaning toward him, arms behind her back and a look of serene curiosity on her face, but with an insidious glee in her eyes. “Just my...”

Her voice was just barely above a whisper as she spoke into his ear. “...Kwami, maybe?”

All the gears in Adrien’s head ground to a halt and in the face of her… well, face, which was little more than a hand’s breadth away from his own. Coming up with coherent thoughts was just about impossible and all he could do was go, “Uhhhh…”

“I thought so.” Her smirk returned. “See you in class!”

With a wink that did things to his heart, Marinette walked away, her hands still held behind her back. Adrien was frozen in place, staring at the spot she had been in as the sound of her humming faded off into the distance.

For a moment, he wondered about how she knew about kwamis. But memories of Multimouse soon surfaced in his mind and he realized just how doomed he was. After all, if Ladybug had chosen her, she had to be good.

Adrien swallowed heavily, but his mouth was dry. This was going to be a long, long day. And he no longer had any grasp on the situation whatsoever.

----------------------

Where was the girl that stuttered in front of him every single day? Because she certainly wasn’t behind him in class that day. It couldn’t be, not by the way he could constantly feel her eyes on his back, and how she kept passing him notes. Adrien hadn’t had a moment to pull himself together since their little talk in front of the lockers.

Even during class, she found a way to keep him on the back foot, he reflected as another slip of paper found its way in front of him. The one before it had simply been a flirty cat pun, which he wasn’t sure was supposed to be an actual flirt or just teasing him. Taking a steadying breath, he opened up this one to see what it had to say.

Inside was a quick drawing of what had to be him - green eyes, blonde hair, his white jacket with the black shirt - with a speech bubble that just said, “meow meow meow meow meow.”

He quickly hide the drawing under his notebook, just in time since Ms Bustier turned back around at just that moment to address the class. If she saw, would she confiscate them? Or, even worse, would she make them read them out loud in class? Besides being embarrassing to have to say ‘meow’ five times outloud, would they give his classmates the edge they needed to discover his secret identity? Who else but a catboy would be able to say meow so effectively?

Ms Bustier turned back toward the white board and his momentary reprieve ended. Another note - this one folded into an American football - landed at his elbow. Ignoring the questioning look Nino was sending his way, Adrien opened it.

This one was just a drawing of a cat… a cat that unmistakably had his hair.

Adrien quickly shoved it into his pocket but no sooner had he managed that than another one landed right in front of him. Keeping an eye on Ms Bustier all the while, he felt it open with his hands and glanced down once he thought he’d gotten it.

Another drawing of him. This time with the words ‘pretty kitty’ and an arrow pointing at him.

That one got him to turn around, just enough to look at her. She looked back down at him, shameless, and even had the audacity to wave her fingers at him.

“Adrien, eyes up front please!”

He snapped back to attention at Ms Bustier’s gentle but firm command. There was a slight murmuring in the classroom, but it passed just as quickly as it began. After a couple minutes, another note landed in front of Adrien.

Unheard by anyone else, Adrien let out a long, frazzled sigh.

--------------

Adrien collapsed onto his bed, finally home from a long day. Gym class and an hour of fencing didn’t do nearly half as much as just having Marinette behind him, flirting with him surreptitiously for the entire time they had classes together. And it was unquestionably flirting - eventually even he had no choice but to admit that she was hitting on him.

But why? He had to wonder. Was it because of her feelings for Chat Noir? Had something happened to awaken this in her from their time on her island last night?

Shaking his head, he decided he’d have to ask her tomorrow…

...Only for his phone to go off.

Naturally, it was Marinette, a fact he noted with wide eyes and quickening pulse.

Marinette: Open your island?

Adrien stared at that message for long minutes before it finally dawned on him that she was talking about his Animal Crossing island. After everything that had happened today, he had almost completely forgotten how his identity had been compromised.

His internal debate on whether or not to actually do what she asked was short. In a matter of minutes, he had his switch in his hands and was opening up his airport. His only response was to send her the access code.

He ran in circles as he patiently waited for her to arrive. The plane loading screen came up and he frowned at her passport title. “Rascally Bug Fan”? He could have sworn that wasn’t what it had been a few days ago…

Then she landed and the cutscene played, showing her character walking out of the airport gates. But she wasn't in the clothes that she had been wearing when he visited her island yesterday. No, she was wearing a red, black spotted suit, a superhero mask, and with a rose in her hair.

Everything clicked and he let out an involuntary gasp that turned into an undignified, startled squawk as his fingers slackened and his switch fell onto his face. He quickly rolled to a sitting position and watched Marinette - or, should he say Ladybug? - walk up to where he was standing.

He used the anger react and she responded with a laugh. Remembering the day that she had put him through, he felt the corners of his mouth twitch up in a smile. He had his character use the love react, a pink heart floating above his head.

She smacked him with a net.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Animal Crossing #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #post-reveal #my writing #ml fanfiction #Cat Crossing

48 notes · View notes

softboywriting · 3 years

Text

Gravitation | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: Twin Flames; a single soul that is split into two bodies. You and Nathan have a connection like none other. He has an idea why, and you’re about to find out. [Soft!Nathan] [Soulmates Trope] [No Use Of Y/N] [Assistant!Reader] [F!ReaderxNathan] [Swearing] [Pet Name] [Invasion of Privacy - Mentioned] [Drunk Nathan]

Word Count: 5k

|Masterlist in Bio|

The moment you met Nathan you knew there was something about him that was unlike any other person you had met up until that point. It wasn't his massive ego, his minor God complex, or his genius intellect that got your attention. It was his eyes. Something in his eyes held more than his big mouth could ever express, something familiar like you've known him since the day you were born and even before that. You doubt he knows it, that his gaze tells you every truth, every lie, every moment of his history leading up to the moment you met. He feels it though. That you can confirm. He feels something when you stare at him as he speaks and you know that it makes him uncomfortable in a way he doesn't know how to explain because he gives you looks as if you're something he's never seen, something he can't quite figure out. You are an enigma to him some days and it keeps him on his toes.

Two months pass as you live out your days with Nathan in his sprawling complex of a home slash research facility. It was strange how you came to be here, a memory almost it seems. You had been receiving emails for weeks from an unknown sender, something about a research assistant position. You didn't pay much mind, as you weren't looking for an assistant position. You wanted to land a job doing website building for Blue Book. That is what you applied for and that is what you have skill in doing. So when your phone rang in the dead of night and you found out it was the CEO, Nathan, calling you directly about the emails and the assistant position, you were shocked. One thing lead to another and you found yourself living with Nathan while he began building AI.

Being Nathan's assistant isn't exactly what you hoped for, but it's not bad. You get to see how he works, what makes that genius tick. He's not as bad as you had heard, not as full of himself, but maybe that's just because he likes you. Working with him consists of observing him, helping him document things, getting tools and equipment while his hands are full, doing facial tracking studies, talking out loud in long sequences while he records your speech patterns. Some days it feels like he studies you more than he works on the AI. Not that you mind, his gaze is undeniably attracting, so much fascination and wonder behind those wire frame glasses. He leaves you with butterflies and longing for more than casual touches.

______________________

"Nathan?" You call softly from across the lab table he is sitting at, pushing wires into the gel mass brain unit to hook it up to his laptop. "I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why did you choose me?"

He looks over his glasses as his hands still against the gel mass. He's going to lie, you know this look. It's so easy to tell. "I didn't choose you, it was random, I needed an assistant and you were a good fit."

"That's not like you. You wouldn't have some random mediocre website builder be your lab assistant."

"It's not like me? How would you know?"

"Well, I've been here for two months and I've worked and lived with you nearly every day for all hours except for when I'm sleeping. You're too calculated, precise, and prideful of your work to allow some random person into your life like this. So again, why did you choose me?"

Nathan sits up, folding his arms over his chest as he looks at you with a small smile on his lips. His eyes meet yours and you can tell he's intrigued. He has that look, like you're something shiny and new that he has yet to figure out. God you love that look.

"Well?" You push insistently. He sucks at lying to you and he looks as if he's going to try again.

"I chose you because I studied you. For weeks I went through your data, your work, your photos and posts on social media. I selected you because I could see something in you that terrified me."

You raise your eyebrows. That was not the response you expected. The data thing did not surprise you, it's Nathan and he can do almost anything on the internet with the software Blue Book is built from. You expected an answer regarding your physical appearance, reducing you to the beautiful assistant, eye candy. Not that you terrified Nathan, which in turn terrifies you because you're not sure what about yourself would ever be deemed as such.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Yes." You smile softly, turning your head away to break his gaze. It's too much. Too intense. "You've thrown me for a loop."

Nathan pushes away from the table and walks around it to sit beside you. He turns on the stool and tilts your head to look at him, fleeting fingers careful against your jaw, eyes meeting, faces only a few feet away from each other. "I chose you because I see myself staring back at me."

"What?"

"The eyes are the window to the soul. When I saw your photo I knew I had to meet you in person. I would have done anything to meet you, to see you face to face because I wanted to be right."

"Right about what?"

He gathers your hands into his and your heart beat picks up, cold sweat prickling at the back of your neck. "There is a theory that a human soul can be split into two people. It's interesting to consider, not that I believe it entirely. It's a bit of a fairytale and all. I'm curious though and I wanted to study it."

"So you brought me here to study me?" You swallow harshly. This whole time you've been part of an experiment it seems. Wonderful.

"I did."

"So I'm not your assistant. I'm your specimen."

Nathan drops your hands and stands up, walking around the lab slowly, pacing almost. He has never seemed so nervous. "You're still my assistant. You assist me do you not?"

"Yes."

"Then you're an assistant."

"Nathan. You know that isn't what I mean."

He chuckles. "Don't worry about it too much."

"I'm going to worry. You're studying me!"

Nathan sighs and walks back over to you, cupping your face in his palms as if to make you listen to him better and your heart threatens to explode. He has never been this physically affectionate with you ever yet his touch is so familiar. "I would be studying you anyway. You're my assistant, my little poseable doll, my muse which I collect data from."

"This isn't making me feel any better. Actually, I feel insulted."

"I'm not insulting you."

"Doll?"

"Fine." He says harshly. It's as close to an apology as you will ever get.

"Thank you."

Nathan drops your face and walks away again. He seems anxious now. He strides along the length of the brightly lit lab tables, hands in his pockets. The silence that fills the room is stifling, awkward, and increasingly thick with unsaid thoughts.

You slide off of your stool and wander toward the table in the enclosed chamber at the back of the room. There are mechanical body parts on the table, like a person laid out for an exam or a surgery. It's strange to think that eventually these parts will be a working form, these wires and plastic and metal plates will be an artificial life form that looks and sounds like a real human. You turn suddenly and look back at Nathan. He's staring, your fingers touching the shoulder of the body before you. It's as if you could feel his eyes on you, as if you could see yourself through them actually.

"What're you doing?" Nathan asks as he leans against the entryway, his tone far calmer than his eyes would portray.

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Let me tell you." He steps in the room and around to the opposite side of the exam table. "You're breaking my rules."

You pull your hand away and curl it against your side. "Am I?"

"Yes." He leans on the table, arms open, hands pressed to the cold top. "You're touching my work."

"Nathan I touch your work all the fucking time. I literally carried a leg across the lab for you earlier. What the hell are you talking about?"

"With permission. I gave you permission to carry that leg."

"Okay?"

"Did I tell you that you could come in here and touch this?" He gestures to the parts on the table. "Did you consider that it might not be a good idea to do that?"

"It's just laying here Nathan."

"But do you know that? Maybe I have something going on that requires these to be perfectly still."

"I put these in here yesterday. I laid them down and you haven't moved them since." You cross your arms and stare him down. "You're just trying to start a fight because you don't like the awkward tension in the room and a fight will change the subject off of why you hired me."

Nathan's head snaps up and he glares. Oh how he glares daggers right through your soul. You know you're right and he knows you're right. It's killing him not to have a comeback ready. He was so ready to fight about the AI parts that your breakdown of his thought process has destroyed all means of retaliation. It's satisfying, watching him flounder for a second.

"Cat got your tongue?" You say with the biggest smirk. His own words, his own choice of phrasing thrown back at him.

"See this is why you terrify me."

"Because I called you on your bullshit?"

"Yes." He turns and heads for the entryway. "You call me out before I even realize what I'm doing."

"So you didn't plan on coming in here and trying to start something?"

"No, I mean I did I guess but it wasn't a coherent thought. I didn't go "oh I'm going to start an argument now because I want to deflect this awkwardness", I just did it because....well I guess it was my instinct." He runs a hand over his head and braces it against the back of his neck. "I need to go for a run."

"It's raining."

"So?"

"Wear a coat."

"Are you my mother now?"

"You're doing it again." You point at him and he scowls.

"I'm leaving."

"I'll run a hot bath."

"For what?"

"For you when you get back inevitably cold and sore because you over do it on the trail."

Nathan growls, literally growls and looks pissed. "Stop! Just stop! Get out of my head!"

You walk out of the chamber and past him toward the hall door. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Don't."

"Didn't do anything."

"You will."

"Maybe. Go run."

"Fuck."

______________________

You decide to do some research of your own while Nathan is gone. You're not supposed to get on his computer, or really contact anyone in the outside world as per your non disclosure agreement. There are exceptions though. You technically cannot discuss anything that happens in the complex but you can discuss everything else. You could call your parents but you've not had the best relationship with them since you took the job with Nathan. They didn't understand, thought you were being coerced by him and they never wanted you to be in the tech field. They wanted you to be a doctor or a nurse. If only they knew how much Nathan paid you. They would forget about that medical field shit so fast. Unfortunately your pay is related to the job so you're not able to discuss it.

You take a seat at Nathan's desk and bring up the center screen. You can see him on the security camera on the backside of the house. He's sitting on the open air deck, rain pouring down on him. Not running. This is actually perfect, you can make sure to get off the computer as soon as he leaves the camera view.

You pull up Blue Book and search "split soul theories". Tons of information pops up. You wade through the crap. Book titles, movies, songs and stuff. The only information you want is about the actual theory itself. Finally you find it, some spiritual website has the explanation you're looking for.

"Twin flames?" You mutter, skimming through the paragraphs of text.

The pages tell you about the theory that a soul can be split in two and those people are drawn together and are like two sides of the same coin. Kind of like soulmates but deeper, more connected, lives spanning every reincarnation. You shake your head. There is no way this is what Nathan is interested in investigating. It's too wild. He's a man of logic and science and biology. Not spiritual at all. Besides, you're not like him. At least you don't think so. Maybe you are...in some ways you can see how you're similar. That's disturbing and you're not going down that road.

The screen on the left is empty, the camera showing just a feed of the empty deck. Shit. You scramble to close the tab but it's too late.

"Oh dear, what are you doing?"

"Fuck," you whisper and turn around slowly to see Nathan standing in the doorway to the office. He's changed into his favorite white long sleeve and some sweatpants.

"Should I pretend you aren't on my computer with the browser open or should I just fire you now?"

"I wasn't doing anything against my NDA." You stand up and he gives you a look over his glasses.

He moves past you and sinks into his chair, turning abruptly to pull up your closed tab on the browser. "Twin flames huh?"

"Yep. Just looking shit up."

"Uh huh."

"Is that what you think we are?"

"No."

"Then what do you-"

"It's what I know we are." He turns back and raises his eyebrows. "You were watching me on the cams?"

You shrug. "Maybe."

"You're a little shit."

"As if you don't watch me when we aren't together."

"Touché." He stands and circles around to grab a book off the shelf behind you. He flips it open and starts scribbling something down.

You lean over trying to see and he tilts the book up. "What is that?"

"A notebook."

"Smart ass."

"I am." He gives his butt a smack and grins at you cheekily. "Don't worry what this book is."

"Secrets make enemies, don't you know?"

"Yes," he puts the book away on the shelf in plain sight. He knows you won't try to get it. You wouldn't disrespect his things like that, even though the lack of respect for your own is considerable in this house. "I have lots of enemies."

You roll your eyes. "That's because you're insufferable, Nathan."

"No it's because I have secrets."

"Wait, you just changed the subject...circle back here. What do you mean you know we're twin flames? How did I miss that?"

Nathan chuckles and puts his arm around your back. "You'll see, one day."

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

"Oh no it does." He guides you into the hall and closes the door behind him. "Once you think about it long and hard you'll realize it."

You walk ahead of him. "I don't get what that means and you're talking in riddles. I'm going to bed."

"I'm going to make dinner."

"And you're going to eat alone. Goodnight Nathan."

___________________

"I know you're awake." Nathan's voice floats through the door to your room. It's some time after midnight, days since you got into it with him about the twin flame nonsense. Yet it's been playing on your mind nonetheless. "Mi luna, can I come in?"

Mi Luna? What the hell is that about? He must be shit faced drunk. You know if you open that door you won't get any sleep. You also know he could just open it since his card is all access, but he is still asking. It's the little things.

"The door is open!"

Nathan peeks in, just his face appearing around the heavy glass door. "Mi luna, it's so bright in here."

"Yeah? I've got the lamps on. It's subterranean, remember? No windows."

He slides in and closes the door. As if someone were ever going to interrupt the two of you. "Lights off."

The lights go down to just the night lights under the vanity and in the bathroom remain on. You raise your eyebrows at the man walking so carefully across your bedroom. He doesn't seem to be stumbling. That's a good sign.

"What is mi luna all about?"

"Do you like it?"

"I don't know?"

"It means My Moon."

"Okay?"

Nathan flops down on the bed and crushes your feet under his butt. "I was thinking about pet names earlier. I hate them all." He's definitely drunk.

"But you like mi luna?"

"Yeah. Mi Luna y mi sol." He extends his arm up as if to touch something out of reach on the ceiling. "My moon and my sun. Sounds romantic."

"Romantic? Since when do you like anything romantic?"

He turns his head to look at you. You're glad you can't make his face out clearly in the darkened room. You fear his eyes will tell you more than you wish to know. "You make me soft."

"I make you soft? How?"

He lets his arm go limp, falling behind him on the bed. "You're so pretty, and you're smart too. So smart." He sighs heavily like a man with much on his mind. "I've had too much tequila."

You chuckle softly. "Oh boy."

"What?"

"I've never seen you drink it, tequila makes you a different kind of drunk."

"Yeah." He reaches out to you and you take his hand. He wiggles his finger tips against yours and makes a little do-do-do noise to go with it. "I wanna marry you."

"What?" Your heart stops and his hand goes limp under yours. "Nathan, what did you just say?"

"Nothing?"

"No you said you wanna marry me."

"If you heard it then why did you ask?"

"Because I wanted to see if you'd lie."

He scoffs and sits up. "I didn't say that."

"Yes you did!"

"No I didn't. You misheard me. I don't even believe in marriage."

"Nathan."

"I'm going to the lab." He pushes off the bed and wobbles on his feet.

You kick his butt and he stumbles forward. "You're an asshole."

He looks back and even in the darkened room you can see his smile. "Am I?"

"Yes! Now get out of here. I want to sleep a few hours before you inevitably wake me up at an ungodly time despite having slept about three hours yourself."

He chuckles as he pads softly to the door.

"What's so funny?"

"I like waking you up early." He leans on the door frame, allowing it to support his body entirely. "It's my favorite part of the day. Your sleepy little yawns, heavy lidded eyes, they way your voice sounds so soft."

You ball your fists in the comforter and force down the butterflies that stir in your stomach. This isn't Nathan. This is a drunk lonely idiot. You can't catch feelings for him, he's your boss. It's honestly too late but that's not any of his business. "Go!"

"You like meeee!"

"Nathan please just go away!"

"It's my house. I don't have to." He teases and you throw a pillow at him. He laughs and slips out the door to avoid further projectiles.

You pull a pillow over your face and scream into it. He's frustrating, whiplash embodied. Fuck him and fuck how he makes you have butterflies in your stomach.

______________________

"Can I ask you something about the AI?"

"Any time." Nathan says as he punches at the bag hanging on the deck. He's been going at it for about an hour now.

You've been sitting and watching him, curled up on the bench wearing his white long sleeve shirt because it's cool out and you didn't want to go get something of your own. You've been sketching the scene of him boxing as if to preserve the memory. As if you won't be here again in a few days doing the same thing.

"Is this your first? The one on the table that we- you are building?"

He stops, steadying the bag a moment and giving you a troublesome smile. "No."

"What was the first one like?"

He returns to punching the bag in a steady rhythm. "She's human like. A little taller than me. I didn't get to make a head before the body malfunctioned."

You raise your eyebrows. "It was a woman?"

"Is. She is a woman, yes."

"She's still in around?"

"Yes." Nathan hugs the bag and looks at you almost lovingly, clearly excited to show you this AI he's kept a secret. "Do you want to see her?"

You stand from the bench you've been watching him on and he starts unwrapping his hands. You take note how his fingers look a little bruised, as if he were going too hard on the bag. "She's here?"

"Mmhmm."

"Why haven't you shown me?"

"You haven't asked."

"But we've been building a new one for this long. Why wouldn't you tell me you had another?"

Nathan grabs his glasses from the counter in the dining room as you pass through, following close behind him. He chuckles. "This new one is not going to be like the others."

"Others?"

"Yeah, the others."

"Nathan, how many are there?"

"Five?" He glances back and does a little hand motion to signify that he wasn't sure. "No, six."

You stop dead in your tracks outside the lab door. "Six? You've made six?"

He turns at the end of the hall and puts his hands on his hips. "I've been here for three years. Of course I've made six. Come on, do you wanna see them or not?"

You hurry ahead and step into where he's leading you. A lounge with big rock walls and built in cupboards. He scans his badge at the first cupboard door and opens it. Inside is half of a bot, no head, just a mechanical body with legs and no arms.

Nathan opens the next one. It has a head with a face, no legs but a torso and an arm. He opens the rest and you walk down the line. The closer you get to the end you realize they look more and more human. They have skin, and unique features, hair and everything. It's when you reach the last one that your heart stops.

Before you is a spitting image of yourself. It's as if you were made of wax. Not quite right but not off the mark. She's complete, no missing parts, but only her face is skin, the rest is the robot base model.

"Do you understand now?"

"I don't understand anything. What the hell is this?" You step back, hands clinging to your sweater at your stomach. "Nathan what is going on?"

"I built her last year. This is part of the reason why you terrify me."

"But you said...you said that you saw yourself in me and that's what terrified you?"

Nathan closes the door and stands in front of you. "You're freaked out, I get it. When I said I saw myself I meant my mind, my vision. Not like me, obviously you don't look like me. I see my soul reflected back at me."

You stumble back onto the futon and stare up at the man before you. "You brought me here because of that? Because you made a bot that looks like me?"

He steps forward and sinks down, squatting in front of you, hands landing on your thighs. "I saw you in a dream, a very vivid dream like I was in another life all together and I modeled her after what I saw because I couldn't forget. I had no idea you were real until I came across the twin flame theory while researching dreams and I decided to try and find you."

"But how did you find me?"

"Blue Book. Once I made her I scanned her face for recognition and found hundreds of matches. I cross referenced her specific features, rough age estimate, a few other things and then I found you."

You shake your head in disbelief. "I was trying to work for Blue Book. I put in dozens of applications. I was gravitating toward you all along."

"Yeah." He says breathily. "Yeah you were."

"You're my soulmate?"

"Mmmhmm." He rubs your thighs comfortingly. "It's more than that. Soulmate is a pretty blanket term but what we are is twin flames. A soul split in two that rejoins in every lifetime. I never believed in something like that, but that dream was so unlike anything I've experienced it changed my mind. I'm a man of logic and science not fairy tales and fantasies. It tore me up for a long time."

You let out a little bubble of laughter and you quickly cover it up because it's not funny, it's disbelief. "You? Nathan Bateman is my other half?"

"Don't say it like that. It's not funny."

"This is a gag right? You made that mold of my face and slapped it on the AI for this. You're fucking with me." You push him and he falls back onto his ass. "You're an asshole."

"What?!" He gets to his feet as you stand from the futon. "You think I'm lying to you about this?!"

"Yes! Why would a man like you ever believe in that stuff? You don't even believe in marriage. You're lying to get me to sleep with you or something. You're playing into my feelings and fantasies and hopes of someday finding someone to share my life with forever." You head for the doorway and Nathan grabs your hand to stop you. "Let me go. This is cruel. I never thought you would go this fucking far as to-"

"I would never do that to you." In one fluid motion he pulls you close, cradles your face and presses his lips to yours. Fireworks explode behind your eyes as they fall closed. Your heart races, body frozen against his as the world comes crashing down around you. All at once you're dizzy, breathless, excited. You're overloaded, overwhelmed and you don't know what is happening.

"Do you feel it?" He asks and you open your eyes to find him only inches away. The moment your gaze meets his you know he isn't lying. "You're the only person who I've ever felt this connection with. You know how picky I am."

"You're not lying." You mutter, remembering all the times you couldn't stop staring at him. The times when you couldn't remove your eyes from his once they met. The way you move seamlessly around each other, as if you knew each other's next move every step of the way. And most of all how you can't imagine being away from him, how you never get tired of being in his company. "Since we met I've had this feeling, and when our eyes meet-"

"We can't look away."

"Yeah." You lay a hand on his cheek, fingers fanning out over his beard. It's a strange feeling, foreign under your touch. "What do we do now?"

"We keep going."

"Keep going? Going where?"

"Ahead, with the AI, with our relationship." Nathan presses his head to yours. "Together we're going to make a perfect AI. If I hadn't started this, gotten this far into it and made the AI I based off of the dream I had of you, we wouldn't be here right now. You wouldn't be here, we wouldn't have met. I wouldn't be able to make the newest model without you."

"Yes you could. This isn't like you to say you need someone. Have you slept?"

He chuckles. "Yes I've slept."

"You could make this AI without me. You don't need me."

"But I do." He steps back, cradling your face in his hands, thumbs on your cheeks stroking softly. "You've been the key to everything. I can study your features, your expressions, your eyes...fuck your eyes, man. Sure I can get all the data from Blue Book like I did before but you're different. You make me think differently about everything."

You lean into his hand on your cheek. "Kiss me again."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He slides his arms around your back and pulls you flush against him. His mouth covers yours, a sweet kiss turning hungry quickly. He backs you against the wall, arms caging you in as he licks into your mouth. He lets out the softest moan as your hand explores his chest. It's the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.

You arch against him and he lifts your leg up as you hook it around his. You run your hand over his back and stop at his shoulders, cradling the back of his neck. "This is what Nathan in love looks like?"

He kisses along your jaw and pulls back, glasses a little askew. He looks wrecked, completely gone. Like he's drunk but on you instead of liquor. He smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"You're damn right it is."

End

______

Thank you for reading. Please reblog if you enjoyed! - A

Header by delicate-venus

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

#ex machina #ex machina fic #ex machina fanfic #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fic #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman fanfic #oscar issac #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fic #oscar isaac character

109 notes · View notes

woodelf68 · 3 years

Text

Teething Time

Based on a post by @lokijiro

-----------

"Mama, Loki is chewing on my blocks!" complained Thor, trying to wrest the wooden block out of Loki's mouth.

"He's cutting a new tooth, Thor, and chewing on something helps. Surely you can spare one?" Frigga was sitting near the nursery window, working on a blanket for Loki, all soft greens, the darker shades that she’d started with blending into lighter ones the further up she went.

Thor looked from his half-built castle to the pile of blocks on the nursery floor still waiting to be used. "I guess. But sometimes Loki puts things into his mouth that he shouldn't, so I didn't know if it was okay," he said virtuously.

"The block is fine. But you're right; he shouldn't have anything sharp or rough, or small enough to swallow and choke on. I wouldn't want him to have a stick from the garden, for instance. He could scratch himself or poke it in his eye or choke on a bit of bark or twig if it broke off. Or it could be dirty or moldy or have a caterpillar crawling on it. We wouldn't want Loki to swallow any poor caterpillars, would we? So I'm glad you asked; thank you for looking out for your brother."

Thor knew that really, he just hadn't wanted Loki chewing on his toys, but he beamed and pushed his shoulders back proudly. "All right, you can have the block," he told Loki. There were more than enough. "After all, brothers share, right Mama?"

Frigga beamed back at him. "Yes, they do. It might seem a little one-sided at first -- Loki doesn't have much yet that he can share with you -- but I promise it will even out as you get older."

The sound of footsteps made them both look up.

"Papa!" Thor jumped to his feet. "Come see what I'm building!"

Odin smiled and laid Gungnir down on the sofa, feeling the concerns of a king melt from his shoulders as the nursery door closed behind him. He had had a productive day, and felt he had more than earned some time alone with his family before dinner. He surveyed the towering piles of blocks, the tallest as high as Thor's head.

"Very impressive.” He looked down at his smallest son, sitting on the nearby rug and assiduously gumming on a wooden block. Ever since Loki had started crawling, he was rarely far from Thor’s side. “Is Loki helping you?"

"No, he's just watching. And chewing on the construction materials." Thor said the phrase carefully, having heard it used in a conversation between his father and one of his advisors the other day. He was pleased to have an opportunity to use it himself already; it sounded much more grown-up than "blocks".

"I see that. How's the tooth coming, young man?" Odin leaned down and picked Loki up, nudging the block Loki held clutched in his fist away from his mouth. "May I see?" He ran a finger over the sharp white nub breaking through Loki's gums and winced when Loki clamped down on his finger for his trouble. "Sore, is it?" he asked sympathetically. "Do you think you could -- ah, that's better." Odin extracted his finger as Loki relaxed his bite with an unhappy little sound, tucking his head under Odin's chin. "Another day or two and the worst should be over," he promised, kissing the top of Loki's head. At least until the next one, he thought, but chose not to burden his son with the knowledge that he was going to have to go through this seventeen more times after this tooth was through.

"You can pass me blocks if you want," Thor said, and Odin put Loki back down on the rug.

“Let me go greet your mother first, and then I am at your service.” Frigga turned up her face towards him with a smile as he approached, and he gave her a quick kiss. “Have you had a good day, my love?”

“I have, and I needn’t even ask; I can tell you’ve had a good day too.”

“I have; for once the meeting with the Council didn’t run overlong and we dealt with all the points on the agenda. If you have no objection, I thought I could spend the next few hours with you and the boys.”

“This is nothing we would enjoy more,” Frigga assured him, and watched fondly as he returned to Thor and began to pass blocks as directed, listening to their eldest chatter about his day. After a few minutes she took advantage of his presence to concentrate on her weaving for several rows, before glancing back up and noticing that Loki was no longer sitting where she had last seen him, gnawing on his wood block. She quickly looked around, her heart skipping a beat when she found him.

"Odin," she said, keeping her voice calm. "Please take Gungnir away from Loki."

Odin spun around, then relaxed when he saw that Loki had been able to reach the butt end of Gungnir where it hung off the edge of the sofa, and was now chewing on it with apparent contentment. "Bor’s beard," he swore with relief, all too able to picture a bleeding, screaming Loki if Loki had grabbed at the other end of the spear. "Sorry. Not used to him being able to crawl yet. It won't happen again." He went over to Loki and tried to pull the spear away, but Loki tightened his chubby fingers around it in a surprisingly strong grip. “Come now, aren’t you a bit young to challenge me for my own weapon? After you snuck away and tried to steal it behind my back?” Odin gently pried Loki’s fingers away from the shaft and pulled it free from him. “My fault, though, for leaving it where you could reach it.” He was about to place it somewhere safely out of reach when he saw Loki’s lower lip jut out and his expression change to one that meant that a vocal outburst was imminent. He quickly let Gungnir fall back to the sofa and scooped up Loki instead. “Oh no,” he said hastily, jiggling Loki in an attempt to distract him. “No no no, shh, no crying. Warriors don’t cry. Frigga? Do you -- “

Frigga was already rising, with Loki’s coral teething ring in her hand. “He’s not a warrior, Odin, he’s a baby, and he’s in pain. Here, sweetheart, do you want this?” She held out the ring to Loki.

“Yes, I know,” said Odin testily. “But do you want him to cry? It’s not going to make him feel any better; it’s just going to make his face feel hot and congested on top of the discomfort that he already is in.” He gentled his voice, addressing Loki as he smoothed down the wavy black hair sticking up on Loki’s crown. “I’m sorry you can’t have my spear to chew on. But you can have your ring, eh? Or a licorice root? Or a cold wet cloth? What do you say, hm?”

Loki looked at the ring that Frigga was waving in front of him temptingly, but then simply held out both arms to her in a silent request.

“Oh, that’s it, come to Mama. I’ve got you.” Frigga took Loki from Odin, and rubbed his back gently “That’s my good boy, my sweet baby boy. Your papa is probably right that crying wouldn’t make you feel any better today,” she admitted. “But you can if you need to, even when you’ve become a man full-grown. There’s no shame in tears if a hurt grows too much to bear.” She kept her voice soft, conversational, and her eyes on Loki, but the latter words were for Thor, nearby and listening. “Isn’t that right, Odin?” She looked at her husband pointedly, her expression daring him to disagree with her, and cut her eyes to Thor and back, meaningfully.

“Ah, of course. What I meant to say was that warriors don’t cry in battle, because they’re too busy fighting,” Odin ad-libbed, hoping that this would be enough to satisfy Frigga. “And getting distracted and blurry-eyed is just asking to get your throat slit,” he added matter-of-factly, and Frigga rolled her eyes. “But if they had a good reason to, they could cry afterwards. However, not getting to use a dangerous weapon as a chew toy is not a good enough reason,” he chided, tapping Loki on the nose. Loki let go of Frigga’s gown with one hand and grabbed at his finger. It was a good, strong grip, Odin thought approvingly.

“Loki’s going to be a warrior, like me,” Thor informed them, leaving his blocks and walking over to join them. “Of course he wants a weapon.”

“He may have one when he’s old enough to wield it properly,” Odin said firmly.

“It’s odd, though,” Frigga said, finally getting Loki to take the teething ring by wriggling it enticingly in front of him. “He doesn’t usually like the feel of metal in his mouth. Was he really trying to hold onto it?” Although Loki had taken the ring, he didn’t seem that interested in it, and twisted around to look back at the sofa even as Frigga spoke, his preference obvious.

“He was,” confirmed Odin. He pulled out a handkerchief and picked up Gungnir, feeling the familiar thrum of magic running through the spear. Was that it? he wondered thoughtfully. Could Loki feel it too? He wiped the drool off the end of the spear and held it out towards Loki. Loki’s eyes lit up and he immediately grabbed the shaft.

“Odin?” Frigga queried, unsure of what he was doing.

“I think he can feel Gungnir’s magic,” Odin explained. “If he can, I’m not sure if it just feels interesting to him or if it could actually feel soothing on his gums.” He squashed the sudden urge to put the damn thing into his own mouth, out of curiousity. “But let me try something.” He stepped back and pulled the spear out of Loki’s grip again, grounding it. “Give me his teething ring for a moment.”

Frigga pressed her lips together. She had just gotten Loki to take the ring. If he started crying... But he was only holding onto it halfheartedly, and let her take it back without protest. “Here.” She held it out. “What -- “

Odin leveled Gungnir and sent a stream of warm golden magic into the teething ring, briefly illuminating it before the glow faded. “Now let’s see how he likes it.”

Loki’s enthusiasm was obvious the moment Frigga offered him the ring again. He seized it with a happy noise and began gnawing on it at once. Extending her senses out, she could feel the hum of magic now inhabiting the ring. Not enough to be used for anything, but enough to make the formerly dead object now feel warm and alive. “Well,” she said, unable to think of anything more coherent to say but pleased that Loki looked happier again.

“What did you do?” asked Thor, puzzled.

“I fed a little of Gungnir’s magic into the teething ring,” explained Odin.

“Could you do that to something of mine?” asked Thor, with interest. Maybe the magic could bring one of his toy soldiers to life?

“Tell me, can you feel anything when you place your hand upon Gungnir?” Odin asked, holding it out so Thor could wrap his fingers around the shaft below his own.

Thor hesitated, tempted to lie, but if asked, he did not know what it was that he was supposed to feel. He shook his head. “No. Nothing special.”

“Then there would be no point in enchanting any of your possessions. I would not expect you to be able to feel anything,” he hastened to assure Thor when he saw Thor’s face fall in disappointment. “You are yet young, and no seidr user; you did not fail any test. But Loki obviously did, and for someone of his age to be so sensitive to the feel of magic -- “

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a surprise, with his inborn ability to shapeshift. But that was a gift of his birth race, while the magic flowing through Gungnir was the power of Asgard itself. Truly Loki was a child of two worlds, except again he felt that Loki had very specifically chosen him, had chosen Asgard. Were the Norns trying to tell him something? Was Frigga right in claiming that Loki had been meant for them, not just for raising but for always? Would Asgard be served best by a king who had a loyal brother standing by his side? He glanced down at Thor, looking up at him expectantly, and impulsively set Gungnir safely down on top of the wardrobe out of the reach of curious children’s hands before lifting Thor up into his arms, enjoying the feel of the boy’s solid, sturdy weight and Thor automatically winding his arms around him, glad that the war had ended, glad that he was missing no more of his son’s childhood.

“Papa?” Thor prompted, wanting to know what his father was going to say about Loki. He looked across at his brother from his new vantage point and made the silliest faces he could, feeling triumphant when a tiny giggle escaped Loki.

Odin looked down at Thor, and then he looked at his wife, crooning endearments to Loki while cradling him in her arms and swaying gently, her eyes full of love and adoration. And then he looked at Loki, with a small baby smile on his face thanks to his brother’s antics and content now with his head resting against his mother’s chest with a full confidence that it belonged there, while he gummed a princely teething ring infused with Asgard’s magic, with the king’s magic, and he shook his head in wonderment. What had never been more than vague plans for a far-off future seemed to vapourise into thin air. Deliberately setting his boys on different paths that would lead them away from each other no longer seemed like the right thing to do. Asgard was Loki’s home now, for as long as he wished it.

“Well,” he said, finally finishing his thought, “I think we are going to have a sorcerer in the family.”

#ficwoodelf #loki #odin #frigga #thor #lokijiro #marvel fic #teething time

77 notes · View notes

jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

Muggle [F.W.]

*gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle!Dursley!reader

Request: (anonymous) Could you do a imagine where the reader is a dursley aka Harry’s cousin. But when Fred and reader meet they don’t know, and they fall in love since she knows about magic. But she’s a muggle of course. So when Fred takes her to meet the family Harry’s so shocked. Maybe they use to love each other and trust each other like siblings but when he discovered he was a wizard they fall apart. Because Harry has other things going on. And maybe after forth year, they completely stoped talking and they both regret it. So when they see each other it hurts both of them, but they end up making up.

Summary: y/N Dursley is tired of being away from Harry because of her parents because he’s a wizard and because he stopped reaching out. She starts going after her cousin herself and she has the help of the Weasleys to do so.

Words: +6,3k

A/N: Had no idea where this was going until I wrote it. Hope you all like it; tried to keep it as coherent to the request as I could. There’s a scene where it was supposed to be Harry and y/N but I thought it would make more sense if it was other character speaking (you know it when you see it).

Harry Potter Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Series

___

“Wait up, girls. I think I might know these guys,” she says just when her friends’ laughs are dying out.

She takes one last look to her back, hoping nobody will notice she’s checking out the tall and red-haired boys.

“Really? From where?” asks one of the friends in a whisper.

But y/N ignores the question. She takes one last sip from coffee and rush to catch the boys before they leave the place.

“Hey, you two!” she calls out after noticing she’s never going to catch them — one of their steps equals three of hers.

One of them looks at her first, tilting his head confused. The other one finally turns too, but he seems less intrigued than his twin.

“Are you... Weasleys?” she says when she gets close enough to them and whispers the last name as if it could be a curse-word or something. It was definitely prohibited in her household.

The twins exchanged looks, confused. They pretend to not recognize her — because they sure can’t remember from where they know her. She still doesn’t know why she decided to call them out anyway.

“Two of them, yes,” one of the boys answered, taking his time to mess with his red hair. The movement certainly showed some charm. “Why?”

She gulps — she was not expecting to be asked. However, the second twin, silently until now, decides to speak up.

“Aren’t you one of Harry’s cousins?”

She shakes her head yes, pressing her lips together at the same time. Remembering to have good manners, she offers them her hand.

“It’s y/N Dursley, actually.”

“Sure I presumed your name wasn’t ‘Harry’s cousin’,” giggled the twin that shook your hand first. He had a firm grip and a welcomed warm hand. He took his time with her hand, and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m Fred, by the way,” he smiled, finally freeing her hand.

The other twin quickly took your hand in his as soon as you were free.

“I’m George.”

“I remember you two. Left my brother with a big purple tong just a couple of weeks ago,” she commented, trying to diffuse the tension.

They exchanged looks, scared if the right reaction was to apologize or to laugh. It sure was rather fun watching the fatty get what he deserved for years of bad things to Harry.

Y/N noticed her comment had the wrong reaction and tried again. “It’s fine, you can laugh. He sure deserved it.”

The one who presented himself as Fred chuckled, more because of her face than because of her brother. However, the one said to be George remained in silence.

She gulped, noticing the awkward situation.

“Well, I just stopped you two because I wanted to know... about Harry,” she says with an anxious tone. Talking about Harry was always a hard thing — with her parents or with his friends. “I sometimes write him letters, you see — not that he replies — but he never shared your family’s address, and I’ve been... Rambling,” she chuckled, pressing a finger in front of her lips. “Sorry for the non-stop talk. I want to know if Harry’s okay, that’s it.”

George steps towards her but stops when he realized his twin had done the same and was faster to speak up.

“Harry’s perfectly okay,” says Fred with a smile that showed no teeth.

“He’s been well-taken care of,” added George. “Did your parents want to know?”

“Who? Petunia and Vernon?” she asks before burst into laughter. The idea that her parents could be worried about Harry was absurd. “No — it’s me who wanted to know.”

She breaths hard before stepping backwards, away from the boys. She’s starting to feel blue, and she doesn’t want them to see her in that way.

“Well, anyway... thank you, boys, for telling me. I was worried, and then I recognized your red-heads...” her voice died out. She raised her head and stared at the twin said to be Fred. “What were you doing here? Harry said wizards don’t hang in ‘munnel’ places.”

She had a great point.

“It’s ‘muggle’, dear,” George corrected y/N trying to hold his laugh.

“And we generally don’t. We have a friend, you see, muggle-born, that tells us this place has the best coffee in the world,” Fred raises his own cup of coffee to go. “We decided to see if it was true.”

“Don’t tell our parents,” chuckled George.

“Nor our little sister,” added Fred and they both started laughing at their particular joke.

Silence fell upon the three of them again. Y/N looked from George to Fred, taking her time to look at that last one. Somehow, he had captured her attention, and it wasn’t just today. Since the day they came to Harry’s rescue a couple of years ago — of course, she knew about the flying car, her window gave her a great view of the three red-heads inside it —, y/N has been fascinated with the family. She wished she had been born a witch, like Harry. Maybe he would stop avoiding her if they were equals.

She turned her face back to take a look at the coffee shop before facing the twins again.

“Sorry, boys, gotta go. Can’t let my own coffee run cold,” she smiled sympathetically. “Tell Harry to write to me, would you?”

“Sure,” answered Fred promptly.

“Thank you,” she replied and started walking away as slow as she could. That was the closest she had ever been to real wizards besides Harry, and she actually managed to keep a conversation! That was new, because last time those two same boys were in her living room, she blushed, frowned and hid behind a pillow. And that had happened just a couple of weeks ago!

“Hey! Wait!” a male voice shouted from behind her. She was turning while one of the twins was running towards her. She presumed it was Fred, although she couldn’t be sure — they were wearing the same clothes.

“What is it?” she asked, stopping her tracks so she could wait for him to reach her.

“I can give you our address. Would be easier to get a reply from Harry if you were to be the one to contact him,” he suggested, shrugging as if he didn’t care if she took the address or not. “Muggle’s post-men generally pass through our house.”

She shook her head yes non-stop, excited for the niceness of the boy.

“Here, do you have a...” his voice died before finishing the question because he had no idea what the muggles used to write things down. But he got a piece of paper anyway — it was the paper that surrounded his coffee to make it easy to hold.

“A pen?” she completed his phrase, chuckling. Then, getting one pen out of her pocket, she continued, “Always care one with me. Quite useful.”

“Pen,” he whispered, not to her, but to test the word in his accent.

She offered the thing to him. He stared at it as if it was magical.

“Never seen one, have you?” she asked, giggling with joy in her heart, but he was already writing down the address.

Fred tried to give her both the paper and the pen, but the last one she did not accept back.

“Take it; you’ll like it more than I do,” she explained when he looked at her, confused.

“Thank you,” he said, genuinely grateful, but she said nothing, and slowly he walked away, playing with the pen with his fingers. His twin met him half-way, and soon they were gone from her sight.

***

She had written to Harry. Twice, actually, and none of those times she got a reply. The first letter she sent to the address Fred gave her and the second one she sent to his school. It was funny because, although Harry Potter seemed in no mood to talk to her, his owl always showed up from time to time in y/N’s window, as if she waited for her to have something for Harry. And y/N usually had.

She was in the middle of her own classes in the public school, but she wasn’t paying attention to the History class. Frankly, she already knew what the teacher was teaching.

Inside her notebook, laid Fred’s note with his house’s address. She didn’t exactly know why she carried it around. Perhaps it meant she knew the address of a hot boy; perhaps it meant she knew a place only wizards lived. Whatever it was, she couldn’t stop staring at it and rereading it all over again.

It also had a kind of joke written on it. Fred didn’t give his real name to the waitperson, and, at first, she thought he was just scared of his name being too wizard-like. But it really wasn’t. His name was completely okay. Different from the one he actually gave the waitress — that one was a bit stupid.

Behind the address to the Weasleys, a single name was written: Merlin.

It took her a couple of minutes to remember where she knew that name from, and then she felt completely dull for not immediately getting it.

Merlin was King Arthur’s advisor and a powerful wizard, at least, that was the children books told her when younger.

Perhaps Merlin was real to them. Oh my God, Merlin was definitely real to them!

She tried once more to pay attention to the class instead of the note she had memorized, but it was worthless. When the bell announced she was free to go home, she felt some sort of relief. Part of her was thinking of writing a letter to the address she had, only this time it wasn’t going to be to Harry.

But that was stupid, right?

She didn’t have much time to think because as soon as she got home, one letter already waited for her.

“This came for you today,” said her brother in a disgusted tone.

She took the letter from his hands, desperate to see what was it about. Opening it up, she read:

Dear y/N Dursley,

This is Molly Weasley, the mother of Harry’s best friend, Ron. I’m writing to you because I’d figured you would like to come with me to Hogwarts, to watch Harry’s thrid task at the Triwizard Tournament. I’m sure by now you know all about it, but maybe your parents can’t come because of their muggle jobs — I don’t really know how it works — but perhaps you and your younger brother would like to come.

Please, write me back with a reply as soon as possible.

With love,

Molly Weasley.

Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes. She read it at least twice before putting her backpack on the floor. Dudley stared at her suspiciously, he couldn’t understand what the letter was about or who was it from.

When she was sure she understood every word Mrs Weasley wrote, y/N rushed to the kitchen where she knew she’d find at least one of her parents. And there her mother was.

“Harry’s a participant in some Tournament?” she asked loudly.

Her mom looked up from the dough she was preparing, with an uptight look in her face. She didn’t like her kids screaming.

“Huh?!?” y/N threw the letter to her mom as if showing evidence. “And we were invited to watch? Never cared to mention, did you?”

Her mom got the paper and took her time to read it.

“What is this woman insinuating? That you are going with her to that wizarding place?” Petunia asked in a mocking tone before tossing the letter to the trashcan, but not before she tore it in pieces.

“Oh, I’m going!” you shouted. “Harry needs us, needs me.”

Petunia gave her a challenging look. She didn’t know y/N had memorized the Weasley’s address and therefore would not need to get the torn to pieces letter.

Y/N got a paper from her school bag and wrote a reply, saying yes she would go, any day that was. She also mentioned she knew nothing about the Tournament so if Mrs Weasley could explain, she’d like that very much.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Petunia asked from behind her daughter. Dudley watched excitedly.

“Replying,” she simply said. But now that it was written, what would she do? Fred Weasley had mentioned it could take days before a muggle post-man would pass their house...

The answer didn’t need to be given. As if she knew and she waited, Harry’s owl came flying through the kitchen window and stopped right over the table, in front of y/N.

“Take this to the Weasleys, would you?” she said, giving the note to the owl, who didn’t wait for Petunia’s approval to leave the place.

“I can’t believe it! Your father wouldn’t like this, young lady!” her mom frowned.

“It doesn’t really matter to me. Now, how many letters has Hogwarts been delivering here about Harry that you guys haven’t told me about?” she retorted, getting up.

Her mom opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t let her.

“Don’t say it doesn’t matter! Harry’s your nephew, my cousin! The only one I have!” she exploded, letting the anger domain. “I bet that if those letters invited you to study there, you’d have said yes! I bet you’d have gone!”

She walked away, but her mom fetched her by the arm.

“Young lady!” she shouted angrily, but y/N didn’t care.

“Wouldn’t you, huh? Or would you have gone?” she turned her face to see her mom, but the woman said nothing. She seemed hurt, which meant y/N had won. “Because I know I would. God knows I’d give anything to be out of here!”

And with that, Petunia let her go to her room.

***

Mrs Weasley and a pretty man named Bill Weasley appeared in front of her house in Privet Drive. They had a car with them — a flying one — and it was with that they were taking y/N to Hogwarts.

Y/N had counted hours to that moment. She even accepted Mrs Wealsey hug with a tight embrace, so thrilled she was.

Bill was the one driving while y/N was sitting in the back, but the trip was not awkward at all. Mrs Weasley asked y/N every possible question, and for once, y/N was glad someone could finally see her point of view about Harry and the wizards.

“I love Harry, I do. It’s just, he kinda left me behind with this thing of being a wizard, you know,” she said, hoping Mrs Weasley would understand her.

Bill seemed to get y/N’s point rather quickly, and she was glad for it. The Weasleys seemed so pleasant, all of them. And very handsome too, may she add.

“So, did Harry’s owl have any trouble finding you?” you asked when Mrs Wealsey’s questions seemed to have ended.

The woman exchanged looks with her son before gulping. Only then she answered:

“Well, actually, dear, I think Hedwig committed a mistake, even though that owl is incredibly good...” y/N raised a brow while listening. “You see, she delivered your letter to Fred and George at Hogwarts. They were the ones who sent the letter to me.”

Y/N could feel her facing frowning, the face of shock and confusion. She thought she had been specific to the owl, but I guess saying “the Weasleys” can mean a nine different people and there was no way the animal could know.

Bill, however, misunderstood your face.

“Fred and George are the twins, I don’t know you’ve met them...” he said, but his mom seemed to have a different opinion about the last part — Molly knew y/N remembered her twins, because they told her so, and, frankly, Molly had never seen Fred give a muggle so many compliments.

“Oh, I’ve met them,” y/N sighed, remembering that day so many days ago. She could visualize it as if it was happening right in front of her.

The flying car made a delightful trip. Molly told y/N that they usually never used it, but since they were caring a muggle, that was the only way they could take her to Hogwarts. Mrs Weasley informed that she made her husband upgrade it to make it safer.

“And he wants you to tell your experience with it, as a muggle,” continued the woman. She was nice but being called a muggle so many times was beginning to hurt.

When she finally arrived at Hogwarts, y/N was kind of disappointed. Is this it? An abandoned, ruined castle?

Bill noticed her look. “Don’t let it fool you. The castle is beautiful; it’s just that, from outside, muggles can’t see it,” there it was again, the little word y/N started to hate.

They walked in, and y/N finally saw what he meant. Hogwarts was more than beautiful — it was delightful, enchanted, unique.

That day y/N met so many wizards, she was sure that she would remember it as if the best day of her life. There were wizards from other places in Europe today as well. Some of them were Professors, some of them were parents of the other champions.

Now, she knew everything about the Tournament because Molly Weasley sent her — along with instructions of the day — a copy of a book about the competition and she spent the three whole nights reading it.

She asked if she could keep the book — a memory that wizards existed if Harry decided after today to cut relations with y/N — and Molly said she had bought it just for her.

They waited a bit before Harry finally walked in the room they were at. They were close to the fireplace, and Harry walked towards them. He didn’t seem to have noticed y/n was there too.

“Surprise!” Mrs Weasley smiled broadly and then she kissed him in the cheek.

“You all right?” said Bill, noticing Harry had finally seen his cousin.

Harry Potter stayed silently, and it seemed as if all the other families were watching the two interact. Harry loved her too, but he also knew her. She was always a fantasy lover, she would have loved to be a witch. Harry was just scared his own enthusiasm could hurt y/N.

“You came,” he said, simply.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Harry,” she smiled before ignoring her shame and pulling Harry to a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t write much this year, I didn’t know about the Tournament,” she whispered in his ear while her tears fell.

Harry was more than a cousin, sometimes more than a brother. Y/N was just a couple of years older, but she saw him as her little boy. She had to raise him anyway because her mom couldn’t care to do it.

“I’m so sorry, y/N,” he whispered back, not letting her go yet. “I shouldn‘t have...”

“Shh..” she interrupted him, finally pushing him a bit away just to see his beautiful eyes. “It’s okay. Nobody wants to be friends with the muggle.”

She shrugged, hoping it would make Harry feel better, but it had the opposite result. She, however, didn’t let him say anything else.

Bill asked Harry questions about the castle — if it was still the same — and Molly joined in, telling her own experiences. Y/N had none, so she stayed in silence, hearing.

“Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?” Bill asked, and she knew he was doing it for her. It made her like the Weasleys a bit more.

“Yeah, okay,” agreed on Harry.

After a few minutes of walking — the castle was enormous — a couple of other red-head found the four of them.

“Fred, George, what are you doing here?” asked Bill, pulling them to a short hug. Fred barely cared — he had his eyes locked on you.

“Paying a visit,” said Fred.

“We never see the family,” added George and Harry laughed.

They said hi to y/N too, but she replied blushing.

“I believe you two are gonna follow us in the tour,” said Mrs Weasley, raising a brow towards the oldest twin.

“Why not, mum?” said Fred, smiling.

Harry just shrugged and continued guiding the group around. Fred and George always added information to Harry’s description — only to your ears because they were scared of their mother’s opinion — such as which prank they had done in each place, and where were the secret passages. Y/N like the company; it made her feel wanted.

They all stopped at the Great Hall, where they sat down at the Gryffindor’s table, as Harry explained to y/N.

“Oh, I’d like to sit at the green table,” y/N commented, pointing to it.

Harry widened his eyes while Fred and George came to y/N’s rescue.

“No, you wouldn’t,” said Fred. But he said nothing more to explain what could possibly be wrong with that table.

The other Weasleys that still attended the school and a girl named Hermione Granger also sat next to them while they ate. They all seemed excited with each other, talking about all things that sounded really cool but you had no idea of what it meant.

The tour continued after eating, and y/N loved every moment of it. She was sure she’d love to study there. Would she and Harry be housemates? — oh, yeah, the Weasley girl explained to y/N why they sat at the red table instead of the green one.

Fred and George, surprisingly, followed Harry, Bill, their mom and y/N around all day. Something told y/N they were there for her, but her insecurity never let her be sure.

They were always making jokes and — when their mom wasn’t looking — they’d cast sparkling spells just to see her surprised and amused face.

By the time they had to go back to the Great Hall for the evening feast, y/N had no more doubts that it had been her favourite day of her life. She would have to write it down in a diary or something. For one day, she was just like Harry. For one day, she was a witch.

And that was all she ever wanted.

Then, it all happened.

They called Harry to the task, and they all left to watch. Y/N said her good luck to her cousin and watched him disappear inside the maze. She was uptight during the whole thing. Something didn’t seem right. Was a school suppose to send students inside a make in the middle of the night in an activity that could kill them?

Maybe being a muggle had its perks.

“He’s taking too long, isn’t he?” y/N asked Fred, the twin sat down to her left.

“I can’t tell. Never seen a Tournament before,” he answered.

“But what about the other tasks? Where those this long?”

”No,” sighed Fred.

He noticed she was apprehensive, and he wanted to do something about it. George, who was sitting at y/N’s other side, raised just one hand high enough for Fred to see and he understood.

“Take it,” he offered his hand to her, “you can squeeze it if you are too frightened.”

She looked to the hand and back at him. Such a pretty boy... why would he be nice to her? But it was her good day, so she didn’t think much more before grabbing it.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Every time y/N heard a noise, she would squeeze his hand. Sometimes, she worried she was using too much strength to do so.

When Harry finally popped out of the maze, y/N didn’t think much before pulling Fred into a tight hug. He gripped her with all his force, scared that would be the last and only time he could do so. She probably thinks I’m a freak, he thought to himself.

But then, silence fell upon the crowd that once was cheering. Noticing something was wrong, y/N let go of Fred and rushed down to the field where Harry was over a dead body.

Cedric Diggory was one of the champions, and he laid lifeless in the ground. Next thing she knew, the place was chaotic. Mrs Wealey and Bill took her out of there, but she protested, saying she’d only live when she knew Harry was alright.

They decided to use one of the classrooms to stay with y/N as they waited for information about what was happening. Bill wandered around but quickly came back, noticing it was better to stay and protect his mom and the muggle.

When the door opened a couple of hours later, and it scared Bill for a second before he realized it was only two of his younger brothers.

“George, Fred, what are you doing here?” Mrs Wealsey asked, hugging her boys.

“Keeping you all company,” answered Fred.

“Actually, Mum, Bill, I think Ron wants to talk to you,” added George.

“Ron? Why would...?” but Molly stopped talking when she realized how her son Fred looked to the muggle girl. She pressed her lips in a short smile before grabbing Bill. “Come on, Bill. And, hm, George, I think you need to show us the way.”

“Of course, mum, of course! Follow me,” and just like that, they left y/N alone with Fred.

“Take care of the girl, would you, Freddie?” requested Mrs Weasley.

“Sure, mum,” said Fred.

Y/N seemed unaware of the sat up, and Fred was glad for that. He wanted some time alone, maybe ask her on a date, but it seemed wrong now that he was about to do it. She was worried about her cousin.

“He’s fine, you know,” he started saying. “Harry is okay now.”

She looked at him, tilting her head unconsciously.

“The Diggory boy had an encounter with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Well, Harry faced him too. But Harry lived,” continued Fred, but he was rambling. Y/N was confused about those terms.

There was a dark wizard after Harry. Maybe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name was the guy. And Harry survived, so things were... fine?

“Where’s he?” she asked, unaware that Fred was glad they were alone together in a quiet room.

“Talking to Dumbledore,” he said, but that didn’t explain much to y/N. “Our Headmaster,” he added, pressing his lips together in the end.

Y/N sighed, getting up from her chair and walking around the room. There were many thoughts inside her head, and Fred started worrying if you were going to lose your mind. He would never have sent you here if he knew what was going to happen — if only Fred knew then Fred’d have burned that letter Hedwig gave him, but instead, he thought it was some type of sign and sent it to his mom.

He wanted to see y/N. He didn’t know why, but something about her face, her voice — even her mom side with Harry and, definitely, her curiosity with the Wizarding World — made him want to know more about her.

If you asked Harry, he’d say Fred was quite annoying, more than ever. He had all sorts of questions about the muggles to Harry, and he always made the conversation go to the Dursleys and end with y/N. Anything Harry knew about her, Fred now knew too.

“Well, there isn’t much I can do here...” y/N pondered aloud. “Perhaps I should go home. Petunia will be expecting me today, anyway.”

Fred couldn’t understand her words, so he stayed silent. That caused y/N to turn and face the ginger boy.

“Petunia’s my mum. Still don’t feel like callin’ her mum, though,” y/N said what she thought was an explanation, but Fred was still confused, even though he nodded, pretending to understand.

“If you wanna go home, I can get Bill to take you. ’M sure Mom won’t leave Hogwarts so early,” Fred sighed, thinking he would’ve to let her go without a chance to know her more.

“Thank you, Fred,” y/N stepped closer to the boy. “I wish I could stay, and God knows my rebel side is saying stay, but one of your teachers already notified me that, as a muggle, I shouldn’t stay much more.”

Fred bent his head and moved closer to her too. He was thinking.

“Perhaps you can. Sure there are exceptions, and Harry lives with you, so...”

“You can make them allow me to stay?” she asked, and her emotion was making her eyes sparks. Just then Fred noticed that, although worried and scared, she didn’t whine or cry, not even once.

Fred grabbed her hand in a rush of confidence. “Come with me, let’s find someone we can talk about this with.”

And they left. *** It was Professor Sprout that talked to Fred and y/N and honestly, she didn’t understand a word the teenagers were saying. She understood the girl was a muggle — it was obvious by the way her eyes shined, fascinated with the Professor’s clothes and wand — and she noticed Fred Weasley was in love with her.

Fred couldn’t stop side-looking at the muggle, and he nodded at every word she spoke. He also was holding her hand as if his life depended on it. Sprout had seen a lot of teens in love to recognize a couple at first sight.

So, of course, she said yes to the girl’s stay. She just warned:

“Keep her out of your dorm, will you, Weasley?”

The way both of their faces got blushed only confirmed Professor Sprout’s suspects, and she walked away laughing.

Y/N and Fred decided not to mention Professor Sprout’s comment and went to see Harry, who in the hospital ward.

They stayed there, accompanied by every other person that wanted to see Harry Potter — and believe, the place was crowded. The doctor — actually, Fred explained she isn’t a doctor as muggles know it — was a bit mad with all the people around, but y/N did the same as the others and said she wasn’t going to leave Harry’s side.

Even the twins left the place, and two other gingers with the bushy-haired girl, but y/N and Molly Weasley stayed behind.

A lot of things happened, and more than half of them, y/N did not follow. She was okay with not understand if it meant she could stay, but after the mourning of her third day in Hogwarts, Molly decided it was time for y/N to go back home. She couldn’t give worry to her parents any more than she already had.

It was Bill who took her back home with the flying car. He noticed how sad y/N looked — her eyes looking at every detail of the sight of Hogwarts and then her loud breaths as if she fought tears.

“What is it?” he asked, worried. “Is it Harry?”

She was caught by surprise. “Harry? No! He’s fine now, I saw that.”

Bill raised a brow when he side-looked at her for just a second before looking back at the sky ahead.

“I...” y/N sighed, discerning she would have to speak the truth. Something about the guy didn’t let her lie. “I will miss that school. It is so beautiful, and enchanting and... well, magical.”

Bill listened to her every word with a respectful silence.

“I’ll miss being around wizards and witches. You guys are so nice and so lucky! Do you even know it? Do you know how lucky you are because you can do magic? And God! No wonder Harry doesn’t wanna go back to my parents! After meeting your family, neither I want to go back,” y/N sighed, noticing she babbled. “I don’t want to go back to being a muggle,” she whispered, speaking with disgust the last word, and turned her face to the window.

Bill made a sound y/N wasn’t able to decipher, and he waited a while before speaking.

“I’m sorry if this is gonna sound offensive, but you are not going back to being muggle — you are a muggle. You were a muggle back at Hogwarts, you are back at home,” he said, trying hard to appear gentle. He was speaking the truth, but it still offended y/N, so she kept her eyes on the window. “But — and believe me, I’m sure of this — you are, as well as Harry, always welcome at the Burrow.”

Y/N finally stared at him.

“Burrow, you know. My family’s place,” he added that extra information that she had already picked in the air. “Mum loved meeting you. And she wasn’t the only one.”

She kept staring at him, curious.

“Anytime you wanna have a meal with the fam, they’ll have you. You are an incredible girl, and I did not get to this thought all by myself,” he said.

“Thank you, Bill. For the invite and for the, well, help,” y/N pressed Bill’s arm gently, showing her gladness. “It’s good to know you guys like me.”

***

There was nobody home, or so, y/N thought. Bill left her in front of her house, and she walked out of the car empty-handed because before leaving y/N wasn’t planning on staying long at Hogwarts. The clothes she wore back then were Gryffindor uniforms given to her by cute little house-elves, as Fred and George explained.

She walked into an apparently deserted house, so she went directly to her room. She was not expecting to find her mom there, holding one of y/N’s pillows close, sitting in the bed with a sad look towards the mirror.

“Mum?” y/N didn’t feel confident enough to call her Petunia to her face.

The mom turned to see her daughter on the door, and she let go of the pillow.

“I do wish I had gone to the wizard’s school. I wish that every day,” her mom said, surprising y/N. She was not expecting to hear an answer to a question she asked long ago. “I want to be a witch since Lily found out she was one and I’m sorry I deprived you of being as well.”

Y/N gawked at her mom like she was seeing the woman for the first time, and she probably was.

“Mum, it’s not your fault I’m not a witch,” y/N finally said, sitting down next to the mother and hugging her tightly. “It’s not something to blame someone for. We are who we are, but we don’t have to be mean to others because we aren’t who we crave to be.”

Both Dursleys hugged each other for a couple of minutes, in silence. They were about to cry but never gave in — they hated crying.

“What counts is what we do to be closer to our goal. You have a wizard in your house, mum, and you’ve never shown interest in him,” she said when she pulled away from her mother’s embrace.

“It’s hard for me,” Petunia sighed. “You are young and kind, different from your father and me. If anything, you get it from Lily.”

Y/N tilted her head. That was another thing she wasn’t expecting to hear.

“You are curious when I’m not. You are great and destined for greatness,” Petunia said. “I love you, honey. I know I don’t say it often, but I do.”

“I love you too, mum.”

***

One hot day of July, when Harry was back at home, but wandering downtown and the rest of the family had gone fishing for the day, y/N had the house for herself. She tried to enjoy it, but her mind was somewhere else.

Every day was like that. She started thinking about Hogwarts, then her mind would shift to the Weasleys, and she would end her thought with the face of Fred Weasley. She was going crazy. The Weasleys were barely talking to Harry — to y/N, they were practically strangers once again.

It was insane of her to think about Fred holding her hand, hugging her again, saying everything was going to be okay...

She generally had Harry to bring her back to senses and to the horror to have Voldemort walking around, but Harry wasn’t home that day. It was just y/N and her thoughts.

Until the knock on her front door; Y/N jumped from the couch and rushed to get it.

And to say she was surprised to see the person behind the door was saying the least.

“Fred?” do I have the power to summon people with my mind? Am I a witch?

“Hi, y/N. Sorry I came here suddenly,” y/N agreed, but she also didn’t mind. “It’s just... I can’t take you out of my mind.”

“Me? I’m a muggle!”

“So? That doesn’t stop you from being the most beautiful, kind and interesting girl I’ve ever seen!” It was like Fred was expecting her to be doubtful.

Fred didn’t need to say more. Y/N had learned a lesson about not enjoying the moment ahead of her, and she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.

She threw her arms around his neck and practically jumped towards the ginger boy, pressing her lips hard on his. Fred was shocked, but when he understood what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her waist, making sure she was trapped in him, and Fred kissed her back, just like he had been dreaming of doing since the day he noticed her when was trying to hide behind a pillow in her living room.

They stayed like this, focused on each other for God knows how long before y/N finally push him away gently while gasping for air.

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” she whispered, looking up at his eyes as he smiled shyly.

“Can we do this more often?” Fred asked, going back to his normal-self and smirking flirtatiously.

“You know, there’s nobody home but me. It’s no Burrow but...” y/N was smirking too eagerly.

“Say no more,” Fred pulled her close again, playing with a lock of her hair with just one hand.

They kissed again, and this time, y/N was going to make sure they were going to do it forever.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley gif #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x dursley!reader #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasley x muggle reader #george weasley #fred and george #fred and george weasley #fanfic request

197 notes · View notes

lilhawkeye3 · 3 years

Text

Find Your Way Back Home- Ch 3

Riyo Chuchi x Commander Wolffe, Riyo Chuchi x Commander Fox

Rating: T |||| Word Count: 1.9k |||| Set Post Order 66 |||| AO3 Link

previous • next

Riyo gripped the kitchen countertop tighter than anything in her whole life. The loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ears threatened to drown out the pounding of her heart as she sought a tether point in her whirlwind of emotions.

She couldn’t do this.

How could she do this? The ghosts she’d left on Coruscant were now seeking shelter in her bedroom.

She’d looked at Wolffe laid out on her bed, and some sick part of her expected him to be Fox. She used to bandage her lover’s wounds on their bed in her old apartment. What had she done to deserve this cosmic taunt?

“Riyo?”

Riyo’s hands flew to her mouth to hold in her startled shriek at Ahsoka’s appearance just to her left. Her friend’s lips twisted into an apologetic smile, and she patiently waited for Riyo to come down from her sudden rush of adrenaline. Her rusty hand cupped Riyo’s elbow to help ground her.

“I’m so sorry,” Riyo murmured, blinking rapidly to hide her brimming tears before she met Ahsoka’s gaze.

The Togruta’s eyes were sad as she searched for the right words, despite them both knowing nothing would ease Riyo’s pain. “You see him.”

Riyo tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a gasp for air after so long underwater. “How can I not?” Her tears stubbornly refused to fall now, despite clamoring at the floodgates only moments ago. “I can’t… I can’t focus on this right now.”

“You can’t go back in there right now either,” Ahsoka calmly pointed out. “Wolffe needs to heal.”

And so grew her guilt. “I know.” She needed to do something to keep her hands and mind busy. “I’ll get some more juvan ready so I can make a cold pack and show Rex what to do. You’ll both need to know how for when you go back.” She tried to ignore the predatory way Ahsoka’s eyes followed her around the kitchen as she gathered supplies.

“I find that talking helps sometimes,” Ahsoka quietly suggested, once Riyo stood back at the sink with her items gathered around.

“I’m not sure I remember how to do that after so long on my own,” Riyo muttered, grabbing a bundle of leaves from a jar more harshly than they deserved.

“No time better than the present.”

Riyo paused to stare calculatingly at her friend. She wasn’t lying about not knowing if she’d be able to speak of her nightmares after so long bottling it all in. “I propose a trade.”

One of Ahsoka’s painted brows rose in interest. “A trade.”

“I will tell you if you update me on your… situation.” She’d tiptoed around the circumstances of her guests’ arrival– and unlikely survival– for the past few days.

“Alright, deal.”

Riyo’s hands hovered uncertainly as she tries to steady her breathing before she begins. Where to even start? She’d tried so hard to forget that night six months ago. Now she had to relive it in full.

“I… I was home for the night.” Riyo doesn’t even recognize her voice with how vacant it sounds. “Everything was normal, even when I got a call from Co– Thire.” She didn’t want to relegate them to their titles. Those men– her friends– were worth much more than that. “He’d call sometimes if Fox was too busy to come home.”

Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out.

“There’s– there was a code phrase Fox had me agree to. Dusk is falling soon. If one of us used it in a communication, we knew it was from the other.” Her hands began to shake as she ground the juvan up. “Thire said it to me that night. He said I had to flee Coruscant while I still could, before I was marked as a traitor by the Chancellor. That Fox needed to know I was safe, because… because he didn’t think he was coming home.”

“Oh, Riyo…”

Riyo tried to laugh but she choked on her voice. “No, no it’s fine. Please don’t feel sorry for me, not after–”

Not after what you’ve lost. It hangs in the air like a shadow, chilling the two women to the bone.

She could feel Ahsoka’s eyes on her for a long moment before she conceded. “Alright. So you fled Coruscant?”

Riyo nodded. “Yes. I waited for him, but… then I gathered those I could and had a trusted pilot shuttle us off. It wasn’t just those from my office, though. There were several other members from Pantora’s allies that we also safely evacuated. It was beneficial in the long run, since the number of hyperspace jumps we needed to make ensured that we weren’t followed.”

“That was wise of you,” Ahsoka confirmed. “You most likely had been tailed. The Empire has been interrogating anyone they view even as having a potential to be rebellious.”

Riyo dipped her head in a gentle nod. “And I never was one of the Cha– Emperor’s greedy followers,” she added.

Her friend’s lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “No, you weren’t.”

“Anyways, I timed my resignation to autosend sometime during our flight, and I contacted Bail, who gave us directions to follow. That’s all there really is to tell,” Riyo sheepishly shrugged, relieved to be finished and able to turn her attention back to the juvan leaves she’d laid out. They needed to be diced and then ground with water into a paste that could be either frozen and saved, or wrapped in a damp cloth and held to the wound.

“So, my turn then?” Ahsoka asked, faux-cheer evident in her voice but appreciated.

Riyo nodded, thankful for something else to focus on. She beckoned her over though, waiting until the Togruta was looking over her shoulder. “Just make sure to watch how I do it, so you’ll be able to on your own. The leaves have to be separated carefully, or you’ll negate the medicinal qualities.”

Ahsoka observed quietly as Riyo worked, nodding along to each specific task that Riyo pointed out. It was quite simple, but an untrained eye would still mess it up. It was nice to have someone at her side. She’d been so used to being alone.

“We agreed on a trade?” Ahsoka prompted, once Riyo stepped aside and handed the knife over for her to try. “Would you still like to hear what we’ve seen?”

Riyo bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself afloat in the surge of stress that threatens to sweep her away. “Yes, please.”

Ahsoka nodded sharply, and then the knife made its first clean slice. “We were on our way back from Mandalore after apprehending Darth Maul– the Sith Zabrak,” she elaborated for Riyo’s sake. “And an order went out to all the clone troopers, everywhere in the galaxy: execute Order 66, to kill the Jedi.” Her fingers clenched around the knife handle to the point that Riyo thought it’d snap. “Somehow Rex… he fought it long enough to warn me to find a file about Fives, an ARC trooper that–”

Riyo could feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of that name, one she’d long forgotten. “I remember. Fox… he shot him, to protect the Emperor.” It felt like lifetimes ago.

In a twisted sense, it was. It’d been during Fox’s lifetime, when he still came home to her every night.

Ahsoka hummed in agreement. “Right. Well, Fives had told Rex that the clones all had control chips in their heads, and that a damaged chip had caused another trooper to shoot a Jedi. No one believed him.” Her shoulders drooped. “I was able to capture Rex and take the chip out of his head, and he was back to normal. I… I let Maul out of his cell though as a distraction, and he damaged the ship so it crashed into a moon. We lost the whole battalion,” she finished in a whisper, head bowed.

“Oh, Ahsoka,” Riyo gasped. She wasn’t sure how a hug would be received, so she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Ahsoka’s eyes were teary when she looked up. “Thank you, but please don’t be for me. I took a risk, and it was Rex’s brothers that paid the consequences.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m glad we found Wolffe. There have been other clones that escaped, but Wolffe was always one of his closest brothers.”

A small smile slipped onto her face unbidden. “I’m glad for the both of them as well. How did you find Com– Wolffe, though? You all barely made it here,” she pointed out.

The Togruta sighed. “You know Bail’s been coordinating a lot recently. We were sent out on a mission to try and contact a defector from the Empire. They’re a medic, and they’ve been treating several troopers sent to them for abnormal behavior. We arrived to get them out, and Wolffe was their latest patient, but they were being watched.” She stopped talking to peer at her work cautiously. “Is this correct?”

She stepped out of the way so Riyo could observe her work. “This is very good for anyone’s first try,” Riyo praised her. “Now we just need to grind it with some water to get a thick enough paste.”

Ahsoka waited for Riyo to set up the next step before continuing. “We had the freed men escort the medic onto our waiting ship, but we couldn’t take Wolffe back to base because of his chip. I followed their instructions to try and deactivate it, but we had to leave in a hurry. It took us a few days and several firefights before we lost them well enough to get here.”

“Had no idea you’d gotten that good with a blaster, either.”

Riyo bit back a shriek as Rex’s voice piped up from behind them. Good thing she’d been using the mortar and not a knife, otherwise she might’ve cut herself. At least he had the decency to send her an apologetic smile once she whirled around to face him.

“Gee thanks, Rex,” Ahsoka huffed, reaching out to playfully slap his chest. The two of them shared a grin, and Riyo decided to study the wooden floor beneath her feet until they snapped out of it. She wouldn’t dare disrupt their small moment of joy.

“I came out to let you know Wolffe is asleep again,” Rex finally explained his presence after he shook himself free of their little bubble. “We spoke some, but he tired quickly.”

That was good. He clearly was suffering from some form of head injury, so any amount of time Wolffe was able to be awake and coherent was a step in the right direction.

“Alright, that’s wonderful news. We should be able to apply this compress despite that.” Riyo picked up the bowl of ground javun and gestured at a clean cloth folded on the counter top. “Would you grab that and come with me? I’ll show you what to do, so you know how in the future.”

A quiet grief crept up her spine with each step she took back towards Wolffe’s room. He needed her help. She could pull herself together for him.

Riyo entered the room alone and took the seat beside Wolffe’s still form. Rex would be along in a minute.

Until then, she studied the still man’s face, finding and cataloguing each unique feature of him and hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt her like before.

#find your way back home #commander wolffe x riyo chuchi #riyo chuchi #ahsoka tano #captain rex #post order 66 #fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe #snowwolf

34 notes · View notes