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stellar-imagines · 3 years

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SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝stupid rumour.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Bakugou Katsuki ]

「 Bakugou who has a crush on you ― the transfer student who has trouble speaking and writing Japanese but can understand the language He helps you on your language skills and develops a crush on you. Then you heard rumours of Bakugou liking Uraraka and you started become distant.」

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

"I thought I told how to do this one so many times and how did you manage to fuck it up?" Bakugou groaned, looking through your midterm paper.

"I'm really trying my best but kanji is just no good for me alright?" you grumbled, snatching the paper from his hands. It was quite embarrassing to be struggling with Japanese literature and other subjects.

Sure you were born and raised in Japan but due to some business issues, your family had to move to [Preferred Country]. And to be honest, you spent most of your life in [Preferred Country] instead of Japan so you weren't really familiar with kanji at all. It wasn't only kanji, its just the Japanese language in general. You didn't have much problems talking but when it comes to reading and writing, it was a problem so when it comes to studying, you were in big trouble. You have been whining about failing your tests and Bakugou — who happened to be your personal tutor. He got tired of your whining and decided to help you in hopes of making you shut up.

You can't really tell why Bakugou decided to help you in the first place. The two of you never got along that well to begin with. The ash blonde was very competitive by nature and when you showed promise during training, he seemed to have made you his target somehow. Bakugou never actually cared about the people in the class but you were different somehow. He was always easy to rile up and you enjoy messing around with him sometimes. It was almost safe to say that you spend most of your time with him.

Since the day you transferred into UA, you struggled with your studies. Kanji now appeared to be an alien language to you and during tests, you struggled to understand the question. Bakugou picks up the scattered paper on your desk one by one, skimming through your mistakes and assessing your performance. You didn’t do that bad and only failed Japanese History and Literature. Your scores were really low and it barely hit the passing mark.

Sometimes you like to think that you and Bakugou had something special but you're just a transfer student. Bakugou and Uraraka probably have a relationship that you could never understand. He respects Uraraka's strength after that one incident during the Sports Festival tournament. You stared at the two who happened to be queueing for lunch, having a conversation that you can't hear from where you were sitting. After a while, you took your eyes off them and sipped your drink.

"Do you think he likes her, [First Name]?"

"I'm sorry what?" you blinked, turning your attention towards Hagakure who sat across you.

"I'm talking about Ochaco-chan and Bakugou-kun!" the invisible girl gushed, her sleeves waving about to show her excitement. You blinked a couple of times, unable to process. Judging from her tone, you assumed that she thought you understood what was going on between the two. However, that wasn't the case, you yourself are clueless.

"But [First Name]-chan and Bakugou-kun are close in their own way too! Something going on between the two of you?" Ashido who was sitting next to you decided to direct the topic towards you instead.

"Nothing is going on between us. In fact, I think at some point he's gonna stop teaching me because of how I always disturb him." you muttered with a chuckle.

"Typical Bakugou. You can still join our studying sessions if you want. My offer still stands." Yaoyorozu smiled gently. You shook your head in response and gave the same answer as you did when the black haired girl proposed the idea to you.

Originally, it was Aizawa who forced Bakugou to tutor you in the first place. You had failed your tests miserably at first and your homeroom teacher seemed to notice that you struggled with communication sometimes. And Aizawa had this crazy idea to assign Bakugou to tutor you. He had hoped that the ash blonde will grow to become more social and cooperative. Honestly, you thought that it was such a bad idea at first. Bakugou was very rough with his words, impatient and is short tempered. You've tried to be nice and dismiss his behavior but at some point you just found him very amusing. You weren't sure if the two of you actually got along well or not.

However, you like to think that you both are actually on good terms. Even though he gets frustrated whenever you struggle to solve a question, he would leave you alone and give you pointers. He also likes to reward you with small treats like your favorite snacks and drinks. Bakugou also pays attention to your behavior a lot. Since the two of you are always studying everyday after school, there will be times where you will be so worn out from training. If that's the case, Bakugou will go easier on you.

"I've heard from someone that Bakugou has feelings for her since first year." Hagakure whispered as she saw Uraraka approach the table. The conversation was cut short when your brown haired friend arrived at the table with her pork katsu don. She looked between everyone, wondering why you all grew silent all of a sudden.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asked, taking a seat next to you. Acting completely natural like a smartass you were, you decided to just continue eating your lunch as if you were never a part of the conversation to begin with.

"We were talking about how there's this rumour of Bakugou having a crush on you since first year." Ashido chirped. Uraraka let out a noise akin to surprise before waving her hands defensively.

"Wh-Wha!? That's not possible!" she said quickly before glancing over at the ash blonde and then towards you.

"Why not?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"W-Well, that's because....." the girl seemed a bit nervous and you see her glancing at Bakugou a couple of times.

You rested your elbow on the table, letting out a knowing hum. It didn't take long for you to get the hint that Uraraka might actually reciprocate his feelings. A small frown was etched on your face as you looked away from the girl seated next to you. Bakugou would never just suddenly stop to stare at someone, especially knowing that he can be caught staring. It was just as you had suspected earlier. 'To think that I thought there's something special between me and Bakugou.' you thought to yourself, keeping yourself out of the conversation while the girls teased Uraraka for getting so defensive.

The next day, Bakugou was packing his things and thinking ahead. He could already hear you grumbling something to yourself as you cleared your own desk, preparing to head back. There was a homework assigned to everyone and you will — for sure — be begging him to help you with it, even though its due in 2 weeks and you have plenty of time. Just as he was about to call out your name, Kaminari and Kirishima approached his desk.

“Hey Bakugou! Some of us are planning to go watch a movie after school, want to join?" Kirishima asked. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at this, looking slightly annoyed.

"Why would I wanna go with you extras?" the ash blonde grumbled.

"Because it will be fun! Everyone is coming right?" Kaminari turned towards the group of girls that has gathered around your desk.

"Yeah, most of us are!" Ashido chirped happily.

"Come on Bakugou-kun! I think its a great opportunity for you and [First Name]-chan to take a break once in a while. And besides, she's been looking forward to this movie." Uraraka told the ash blonde.

Bakugou glanced over at you, seeing that you were somewhat looking forward to relax today. It was Friday, and probably the best day to take a break from all that studying. The ash blonde had been pushing you a bit too hard and maybe this is his chance. Bakugou reluctantly agreed but not before telling them to not chose some stupid movie. He shook his head, telling himself that he's not doing this just because he thinks that you deserve a break and that he likes you or anything. Just as he finished packing, he looked over towards you, seeing Hagakure approach your table with a skip.

"[First Name], let's go watch a movie! Even Bakugou is joining! Ochaco-chan just invited him." she exclaimed, motioning to the ash blonde who glared back at her. Your excitement died down a bit, glancing between your invisible friend and Bakugou.

"Um, I think I will pass! I think I'm gonna start with that homework we're given, it's gonna take me a while to finish that after all." you said, quickly gathering your items.

Seeing you leave the class quickly made him confused. Uraraka muttered about how weird it was for you to skip out on going out, especially knowing that you were all going to go watch a movie that you have been looking forward to for so long. Bakugou decided that it was not worth his time to think too much into it and leave you be. He's not your babysitter and it doesn't matter to him what you do anyways. All while he was watching movie, he was thinking about how you should've been here watching the movie.

Just when he thought your behavior on that day was only you not being your normal self ― you did something that he had never expected before. It happened on the day after the movies. He had already expected you to be knocking onto his door and begging him to explain to you about all the homeworks that were given and about that Science quiz on Monday. Sure you came to his room with a handful of your notes and textbooks ― like usual. Your hair was slightly messy from hurrying to meet up with him at the same time ― like usual. It was nothing out of the ordinary, something you both were accustomed to. You always came late, looking like you just rolled off the bed and went straight here.

It was the same old routine until he heard those words.

"Sorry Bakugou! I'm going to be studying with Momo-chan today, she's offered to partner up for the Japanese History project." you announced.

"Hah?" was all Bakugou could only respond with. He was confused. Normally, you would be begging him to become your partner because you're so used to him. What has changed in you?

"Also.....she offered to help me with my studies so you don't have to waste your time on me anymore. Thanks, Bakugou. I won't be bothering you starting from today onwards." you bowed and quickly left him behind.

'Whatever, I don't care.' was what Bakugou said to himself.

There was so much that he wanted to tell you. But he made no effort to call out to you as you hurriedly made a run for it to the elevator. He shouldn't be bothered by this so much. After all, he was only teaching you because Aizawa told him to. The ash blonde told himself that over and over but he couldn't help but longingly stare at your back as you ran away from him as if he was the plague. 'There's no turning back on this. I made up my mind to not be a burden anymore!’ you told yourself. From that point on, you made it a goal to not interact with Bakugou at all.

He was already confused to why you decided to have him to stop tutoring you in the first place. Bakugou didn't seem to bothered by it that much but it did make a lot of people ask him about what happened between the two of you. The two of you were normally seen together most of time and to see you both on your own is just weird. You were now spending time with the girls most of the time and instead of Bakugou, you had moved on to asking other people to assist you with homework.

He wasn't going to lie but the thought of you running to others and asking for help didn't sit well with him.

Today after school, you were seen in the common area doing your homework together with Yaoyorozu. Bakugou had went down from his room to get himself a drink. Now that he doesn't have to teach you anymore, he was much more free. He could finish his homework much faster than usual. Bakugou watched as you grinned happily after being praised for getting some work done. On his way to the kitchen, he passed by Kirishima who looked like he was taking a break from his own studying.

"Hey, did you two have an argument or something?" Kirishima asked Bakugou who had opened the fridge to get his drink.

"Hah? What you on about?"

"I'm talking about [First Name]. All of a sudden you stopped partnering with her and tutoring her." the red haired mentioned as he looked over at you.

"Why should I care what she does anyway? She's not my girlfriend!" he said, glancing at you in hopes that you did not hear him at all. Lucky for him, you were too immersed in the conversation that you were having with your partner to even care about what was going on in the kitchen.

"But don't you both like each other or something?"

"Who said that!?"

"It's pretty obvious, bro."

Bakugou really doesn't want to admit it but he really likes you ― a bit too much that its starting to get obvious. He was now starting to get worried that you might catch on to his feelings. He looked at you for a moment, watching as you worked on a few tough questions, eyes narrowed at the book in front of you. It was a habit that he learned after being with you for so long and he never said it out loud but you look very cute like that. After a while, Midoriya and Uraraka joined you and Yaoyorozu. Bakugou's eyes narrowed at Midoriya who was helping you with some of the questions.

That should've been him! ― was what he told himself.

Little did he know, you heard the commotion in the kitchen. Though whatever Kirishima and Bakugou was talking about was unknown to you, you could feel them looking at you. Shaking your head in response, you reminded yourself that you vowed to not get in Bakugou's way anymore. When Midoriya and Uraraka joined your study session, you decided to just focus on your homework now. You can’t lie about the fact that you missed Bakugou’s company. Even though he was always impatient and complaining about how slow you are, he never once left you on your own. Not to mention, he was surprisingly a great teacher.

The Bakusquad ― Bakugou never really liked and approval of that name ― were hanging out in the common area. Bakugou was here against his will, dragged by Kirishima and Kaminari who wanted to play some games together. At the dining table, a few students from Class 1-A were gathered around sharing some treats while the Bakusquad played some games by the couch. Bakugou was seated on one end of the two seater sofa, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and rethinking his life choices.

"There was this rumour that you like Uraraka or something." Kirishima mused while he looked through his phone.

"What?" Kaminari suddenly perked up, drawing his attention away from the video game.

"Hah?" Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

”I’m talking about Bakubro here!” the red head male spoke a bit louder to gain the other boys’ attention.

”Oh now that you mention it, I remember! There was this rumour going on about Bakugou liking Uraraka or something.” Sero piped up, not drawing his eyes away from the game he was playing against Kaminari.

“I thought Bakugou was dating [Last Name] already.” Kaminari pointed out.

”I know right?! I know they both like each other but are afraid to admit it.” Kirishima added in with a triumphant smile.

“No one fucking said that.” Bakugou glared at the boys who began to give him the looks.

”Come on, you were so overprotective of her at that one time when we studied in the library together!” Kirishima started, now his posture upright and eyes filled with determination.

”Oh right! When there were these random people hitting on her, you sure told them off!” Kaminari added to Kirishima’s anecdote.

”But there seems to be some tension between the two of you right now.” the blonde hummed, pausing the game to turn his attention to the conversation.

It took him that conversation to actually realize how much your ignorance has affected him. Not only did you decide not to ask for his help anymore, but you made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. You avoided sitting with him during lunch, not partnering up with him during hero training and clearly turning down invites from your friends whenever you hear that Bakugou will be joining as well. He had confronted you in front of everyone, demanding you to meet up with him.

And of course, it was hard to run away when he asked you right in front of everyone. The only solution Bakugou came up to get you back and clear this up was to confess his undying love to you.

You were really nervous to talk to him and for some reason, you had a feeling that you were going to have your heart broken. Bakugou, by all means, isn't oblivious and notices a lot of things around you. So it was no surprise that he realized that something is up with you and that you are ignoring him. He probably has figured out the reason behind you avoiding him already. And you couldn't help but think your reason was really dumb.

“Look, I have no idea what you’re telling but let me just say this.” you started it first, as you don’t wanna regret not saying anything any sooner.

”But I want to tell you that I don’t want to get in your way anymore. And I approve if you want to date Ochaco-chan." you were fiddling with your fingers. So you were aware of this rumour but never made the move to ask Bakugou himself if this was true and decided to just blindly believe in some stupid rumour that some random extra had spread. Bakugou almost wanted to strangle whoever did this because it gave you stupid ideas.

"You are a fucking idiot for believing in some extra's words instead of asking me. Why the hell did you avoid me instead of confront me about the rumours, hah?" the ash blonde was trying his best to remain calm and patient.

"Because.....I was afraid that those rumours are true." you admitted.

"And I'm here to tell you that its not fucking true. Round Face is madly in love with fucking Deku and she's not even trying to hide it. Everyone fucking knows that." he told you.

"So you don't like her?" you asked.

"Stop doubting my words." he flicked your forehead. You shut your eyes and rubbed at the sore spot, muttering a few words about how unnecessary that forehead flick was. Seeing how you looked very unconvinced with his words, his hands squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to make eye contact with him.

"Listen to me, you little shit. I am going to say this once and I am not going to repeat this. Because I have no fucking idea why you are so blind to all of this. You can be dumb at lot of things and frankly, I'm glad that you are." he sighed and you let out a gasp, offended by his words.

"Hey, I'm not dumb―" he cuts you off by squeezing your cheeks to the point where your words were all muffled.

"You're so helpless in your studies without me, its like you can't live without me. But it makes me feel special because you never ask someone else for help and always look for me. Even though you're shit at your studies, you have a really freaking strong quirk. You can be so fucking annoying and drive me insane sometimes but goddamn, how can you be so fucking adorable at the same time?" Bakugou started to get a bit frustrated now and he almost couldn't believe the words he was saying right now.

You reached to grab his hands and pried them off your face to allow yourself to speak.

"I am not going to listen to you do this any further―"

Once again, Bakugou cuts you off by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You were startled but after a brief seconds, you started to kiss him back. It's what you imagined it to be like, sweet yet fiery at the same time. You melt into the kiss, lifting a hand to cup his cheek while he cards his hand through your hair. You were the one to pull away first, taking a deep breath and you held your gaze. Bakugou looks oddly calm but you could see the red tint on your cheeks that was starting to reach the tips of his ears.

"You're red."

"Oh shut up, you're ruining the fucking mood."

Total: 3593 words Published: 07.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Not angsty at all actually. At least in my opinion. We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! We decided to let you readers decide where you're from Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are closed! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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animescenarios · 4 years

Note

Good day!~ Can I ask scenario about Akashi recruits new manager for Rakuzan because he thinks that she can be like Momoi?

I could also make a part two of this scenario if you wanted!

You’ve heard about the manager recruitment from some of your friends. It was actually kind of a big deal, many students were talking about it and even some teachers spread the news. Not like it was necessary – there were already many candidates willing to try. At first, you weren’t one of them.

You were pretty smart and perceptive. You knew a decent amount of information about basketball and its rules, you’ve seen some games but it wasn’t something you’d consider a hobby. And you’ve never played it either. That’s why the news didn’t really make you eager to volunteer for the manager’s seat. Besides you actually knew that most of the girls who decided to take part in it, did it only to get closer to the team members. It was yet another reason for you to pass the opportunity and forget about the whole thing.

The basketball team was pretty famous among students. They seemed pretty intimidating, so not many actually dared to approach them, especially when they were together. This also made you wonder how awkward and stressful the role would be for you. Those tall, scary-looking men scanning your each move and scolding you for making a mistake. Balls flying everywhere. Now, that’s some extreme sports right there. Not that you wanted to try.

But your friends somehow thought you’d be perfect for the role. Ever since the news were announced, they kept pestering you about trying.

“Y/N-chan, you really need to be more confident” one of them said. “You’d be great!”

“They’ll choose you for sure! Look at all those dumb girls just trying to find love on the court” the other one laughed and you heard some of them gushing over the team members. It made you roll your eyes.

“If I try, will you finally drop it?” both of them looked at each other and made a promise. You sighed and got up from your seat. It was time to apply for the job last minute.

***

The next day upon arriving to school, you saw a list of names, selecting people being considered for the manager role. A quick check and to your surprise, you noticed your own name among them and your heart skipped a beat. Why would they choose you? Of course your friends didn’t miss a chance to tease you for being so pessimistic but you had no time to listen to them. This day after classes, you were supposed to go to the gym and get interviewed. At the thought of being in the same room as the whole team, you felt stressed and couldn’t imagine yourself saying anything coherent.

But as always when you’re nervous, the time flies by annoyingly fast. Before you knew it, the classes ended and you made your way to the gym, noticing a small queue in the corridor. To your surprise, the only people who became selected were looking pretty serious about it. There wasn’t anyone screaming about the team’s looks. Or maybe everyone was just too scared to say anything.

But when your turn came, you felt your hands shaking and snorted at your ridiculous reaction. It wasn’t an exam, nothing serious. Just an interview for being a sports team manager. It’s not like you’d get killed if you fail. Besides, you were only doing it for your friends. This single thought made you feel better and helped your steps become more confident.

Walking into the gym, you saw someone standing by the entrance and looking at you curiously. You recognized the person as Akashi, who was the team’s captain and realized that no one else was around. At first you felt quite relieved but looking at Akashi you felt uneasy, even though he was visibly trying to seem friendly. Something in his eyes made your nervousness come back and you had to return to your comforting thoughts again.

“So, Y/N-san. What made you apply for the manager’s seat?” Akashi asked, watching you closely.

“Well” your voice shook a bit, which made you stop for a second. “I was curious whether I’d fit the role. I know the basics of basketball and my friends are positive that I’d do a good job if you let me become the manager”

He looked at you for a while more and nodded, writing down some notes.

“I’m sure you’re aware that being a manager isn’t just an easy job, sitting on the bench and passing water bottles. We’re looking for someone smart, perceptive, who will help us improve and analyze everyone’s abilities. Do you think you could do all that?”

You didn’t reply instantly. His words really made you reconsider your choices. But on the other hand, it made your competitive spirits come to life and you quickly nodded.

“Yes. I’ll do my best”

Akashi asked you some more questions, clearly trying to figure out your true intentions and testing your abilities, but after quite some time he got up from his seat and smiled.

“Then come to the gym tomorrow, Y/N-san. We’ll check if you’re really as perfect as you claim”.

Going outside the school building, you let out a sigh. What did his invitation mean? Were you really going to be a manager? Or was he just hoping for you to chicken out? Either way, you decided to go and not let him win if that’s what he was looking to.

Little did you know that your attitude reminded him of someone he knew. It was very different but at the same time, made him possibly find what he and the other members were looking for. Obviously, you’d still need to prove them a lot. No ordinary person could handle what the role was supposed to be. Akashi smiled to himself and hoped that you’ll turn out to be the one. You weren’t aware of it but to become invincible, they needed you there.

#akashi seijuro #rakuzan #kuroko no basket

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bangtancentricsblog · 4 years

Text

○ souleater ○

➣ he didn’t only eat souls he broke hearts too

❒ pairing: jung hoseok x reader

❒ genre: angst

❒ alternative universe: soul eater (anime), college

❒ rating: NC 17

❒ word count: 2.1 k

warnings/disclosures: meisters yoongi, mc and namjoon, death weapons jungkook, hoseok, jimin and taehyung, meister teacher seokjin, nothing too bad that I can think of but let me know if I missed anything!

monster mash ml • main ml • AO3

some quick vocab for my non anime fans:

kishin - is a human who has hunted too many good souls thus possessing a vast amount of dangerous destructive power

meister (i.e. mc) - essentially the 'hero', the one who fights the battles with their death weapon partners the first half of a weapons meister duo.

death weapon (i.e. hoseok) - a human who can take form of traditional weapons the second half of a weapons meister duo.

DWMA - death weapon meister academy in the soul eater anime is a 'hero' school that teaches it's students how to help keep the world in order.

“Hoseok is such a dick.” the blonde two rows back says.

“For a weapon he’s pretty full of himself. I heard he’s got a crush on his meister.” another adds as heat floods your face. Hoseok in love with you? No you couldn’t believe that, not Hoseok, you were only partners you reasoned. The whispers of that particular group grew louder still as more girls joined in adding to the already ongoing conversation. You had never cared what people thought of you and Hoseok, more so because you were a strong pair, ranked in the top three of the academy. Besides yourself there was Yoongi and Jungkook, followed by Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung. All of whom were close friends and none that had ever given the vaguest hint that Hoseok had harbored any type of feelings for you.

Though the same couldn't be said for yourself, because how could you not? He was bright and your wavelengths had been so compatible it’d almost been like fate that you two be weapon and meister. In fact he’d been the one to approach you the first day of classes, a decision neither of you had regretted since. And yet you had gone and fallen in love with him like some normal love sick teenager and not one of the top three meisters in the DWMA. You had come to this school to create a death scythe, falling in love had not been in the plan. Yet here you were, Jungkook nudged you a furrow to his brow as he did.

“Do you think Jin will be here today?” he asks.

“Why?”

“I didn't do the homework and I’m thinking of skipping.” you weigh your answer for the briefest of moments before answering.

“I saw him earlier so now would be a great time to leave.” you say with a grin that sets jungkook off, he’s not sure whether to believe you. So he decided he’s going to skip anyway, he’s hopping out of his seat startling a yelp from Yoongi a row behind you as he sees his partner zip down the stairs of the amphitheater.

“Jungkook, thank you for volunteering!” Jin says with a laugh placing both hands on his shoulders and turning him to face the class. The room erupts into snickers, even you laugh at the betrayal etched into his pretty features.

You’re studying with Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung as you’ve been giving study hall now that you have become fourth years. The earlier conversation between those girls plagues your mind, and not for the first time you question your relationship with Hoseok. He’s not a bad guy so you’re not entirely sure what it was those girls were talking about. Maybe it’s because he stuck out, but then they would talk about your whole group because truth be told you eight were an odd bunch. Namjoon and his two weapon partners Jimin and Taehyung, Yoongi the reserved yet overpowered and Jungkook the quirky usually quiet but troublesome and then there was your peculiar relationship with Jin your teacher.

Jimin has been staring at you since you’ve started clicking your pen, the pensive look you have says it all as you continue to do so even as Taehyung calls your name softly. He’s sure your thinking about the conversation between your classmates earlier which to him is dumb because eww Hoseok. But he knows that gross lovesick puppy look that flashes across your eyes is proof that you are indeed still in love with him. He glances at Namjoon who hasn't noticed that the three of you had stopped working, then to Taehyung who meets his gaze eagerly.

“___, honey please stop.” Jimin says an overly sweet tone filling your ears and pulling you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you.” you mumble tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“What’s bothering you?” Taehyung chimes in a tone so genuine Jimin wants to gag.

“Nothing, just y'know, the usual.” you laugh softly feeling your stomach drop.

“Is it Hoseok again?” Jimin asks.

“I wouldn’t say it is, but i wouldn't say it isn't either.”

“What about him then?” Taehyung says, taking your hand in his.

“I don't know.”

“We’re not doing that.” Jimin says brows pinched together.

“I’m sorry.” you murmur pulling your hand from Taehyung’s. Jimin can feel his anger build but not at you, never at you because you’re his soft sweet friend that he loves to death. His anger is directed at that idiot hoseok who he knows is a total ass but your poor baby heart can’t help but like. Again eww, Jungkook would be a better candidate for those feelings he thinks staring long and hard as you tuck stray curls behind your ears. God your cute, any stinky boy at your school would be lucky to have you and you want Hoseok of all people.

“Is it because of what those girls said?” Taehyung says reaching for your hands again, an annoying habit of his that you don’t seem to mind too much.

“Does Hoseok, I mean do you think h-he might like me?”

“Don’t worry about trivial things like that, Hoseok is your friend.” Namjoon adds scaring Jimin who had forgotten he was there.

“So you don't think so? Should I ask him out or something?”

“Definitely not, Hoseok is weird about things like that. Just stick to the norm if Hoseok likes you, he’ll tell you.” Namjoon says calmly flashing you a smile as he picks up.

“Okay, thanks Joonie. Where are you going?”

“I’m done studying, so I’m going home. I expect you two to actually finish your work before you do the same.”

“Don’t say it like that, if anything Taehyung is the one who should get the warning!” Jimin says with a huff. You laugh as the two boys argue amongst themselves over who is most likely to take the class over again. All thoughts of Hoseok gone for the time being.

It’s been weeks of Hoseok literally avoiding you at every possible turn. He skips class, eats lunch at odd times, he doesn’t come home till you’re asleep, and only talks to your friends when you’re not around. It’s annoying to say the least, mostly because he’s never acted this way before. But on the other hand he’s been the talk of the school girl giggling amongst themselves, boys sneering at the mere mention of him, even teachers have his name on their lips. You’ve reached your limit and no amount of Jimin and Taehyung talking you down can stop you. You’re hurt, mostly because Hoseok was your friend, and you can't think of a reason that he’d do something like this.

Unfortunately you don’t have the luxury to confront him as easily as you had hoped. This weird phase between you lasts another couple of weeks because try as you might Hoseok is really good at hiding. Something you ever thought you’d have to learn because he’d never hidden from you, from the boys maybe but not you. So imagine your surprise when you get the chance to hunt down another keishan, making it his 87th keishan soul only 12 away from a witch’s. Thirteen in total till he could become a death scythe, only thirteen till you’d have to say goodbye to him forever. Just because you wouldn’t be partners anymore didn’t mean you couldn’t be friends, you reasoned, shaking the thoughts from your mind as you walked along the lone path through the forest of a neighboring town.

The moon shone down on you eerily, casting shadows across the dirt, almost like little pockets of light to show you the way. The silence was unsettling, the thicker of leaves and branches that hung overhead enough of a sign that this forest should’ve been filled with wildlife. And yet not a single sound, not an owl's hoot, not a crickets chirp, not even the slight breeze made a sound. A chill raced up your spine as you stopped catching Hoseok’s attention as he moved to stand beside you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something is off, I’m not sure but I don’t like this Hobi.” You murmured, taking his hand. To anyone else you’d seem like any normal young adult, you, a frightened little thing while your boyfriend reassured you that everything was okay, only you weren’t. You were holding Hoseok’s hand not for reassurance but to better your chances of not missing your target when they appeared, and if you were right then they’d be coming at you any second now.

As if on queue they come barreling at you from above, a manic look in their eyes. You’d called Hoseok’s name softly, calmly, while dodging the first few swipes of their long arms. Hoseok had taken the queue easily transforming to his weapon form, the rapier now sat perfectly in your palm. Hoseok was a beautiful specimen in human form but his weapon form was just as beautiful. A sleek silver blade, with an intricately detailed golden hilt, the weight rested comfortably in your palm.

You sighed as the keishan stood and watched as you stood stock still a little miffed that it caught the corner of your duster cardigan, because it was new! The boots you wore were caked in mud but that could be washed out you supposed.

“Hey are you gonna do something about that thing or what?”

“Shut up Hoseok.” You sighed again because you really didn’t wanna be here right now. But a job was a job you guessed as you planted your feet firmly on the ground narrowing your gaze as it sprinted towards you. You hated these things especially when they moved this fast, this was gonna be a mess you thought finally pushing off the ground and charging towards it.

Hoseok is pleased he didn’t really have to get too involved in this job because as strong as you were you could be really clumsy. But he liked how efficient you were when taking down your foe. The soul of the keishan sat there waiting for him to eat it, and he usually wouldn’t hesitate but there was something bothering him about this, mostly you. You’d been unusually quiet this hunt, almost pensive if he had to say so. So he wanted to know what it was that was bothering you, he reasoned grasping the soul while turning to look at you.

You were crouched over some wild mushroom, back facing him because you claimed it grossed you out to see him eat the souls. He agreed because not all of them tasted great, but he digressed.

“What’s wrong?” He starts just to break the ice.

“Nothing why? Are you done yet, cause I wanna go home I’m tired.” You mutter, pulling up the mushrooms trying to recall if they were edible or not.

“Yeah.” He sighs, quickly shoving the soul into his mouth, chewing once, then twice before swallowing. This one hadn’t been as gross as the last one. The texture was nice, almost as good as a medium rare steak he thought as he waits for you to stand. Except you don’t, you’ve stopped playing with the mushrooms and just sit quietly.

“Hoseok, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like me?” He’s frozen, his head quirked slightly really letting your question settle in.

“Of course I like you, we’re partners.” He says, wetting his lips.

“No, I mean more than friends. Do you like, like me?”

“Why does that matter? We’re partners and I like you but, but not like that.” You say nothing, finally standing to your full height. His hands are clammy as you turn to look at him, eyes wide and glassy. He can see the tears that pool at your lash line, your lip trembles as you let out a choked half sob half laugh. He feels bad, because he didn't want to do this to you. Had never meant to break your poor loved up heart this way, because Hoseok loved you like a friend and would rather hurt himself than hurt you.

“I knew that, I mean it’s obvious why would you like me right?”

“I never said that.”

“It’s okay Hoseok I understand, you don’t need to explain.” you say and he wants to hug you close and make sure you understand that it’s really not you but him. He steps closer ready to embrace you, but you step back hands out to keep him from coming any closer.

“Let’s go home.” you mutter with a watery smile turning on your heel and making your trek back to your dorm with the broken pieces of your heart in hand.

#houseofddaeng #heartsforbtsnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanuniversity #jung hoseok x reader #alternative universe: soul eater #alternative universe: college/university #genre: angst #monster mash day 3 #spoopy season 2020 #meister mc #death weapon hoseok #cameos from the rest of bts #emm writes

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wispandwhispers · 4 years

Text

moonboy

Notes: Writers block is a bitch, I’m sorry this took so long.

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, qpr dukeceit

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tw(s): Cursing, mental torture, one slight nsfw joke, death, crying

Words: 1884

"You've got your stuff?"

Some scuffling and overturning of a bag to double check that everything is in it.

"Yep.

"Do you really think that we are going to make it back for first bell."

"Naw."

"Call in the favour from Quill..."

*****

Roman woke up.

From those dreams.

And the screaming thoughts came back.

Don't think about it Ţ̚Ḩ͡Ī̧͖̪͉͓͌̊̂͝N͕̾K̝̟͗͗,̦̂ ̒͢T̡̫̪̄̾͛HI̡̫̮͑̅͂N̢̨̖̯̳̆͆͗͘̚K̦͔͑͋,͍̱͔̬̓͛̑̐ ͙̦̯͚̅͂͋̽P̛͚̰̟̩̟̾̄̆͂L͎͍̥͔̭̎͒̉̃͘Ẻ̲͈̬͖̄̿̒A̜̓S̩͒̏͜Ḛ͉͒͝ ̣̯̲̜̄̊́̄͞ͅL̦̏Ȉ̡͕͌̚ͅS̭̦̀̕-

He sighed. It's ok when he dreams about about a cute boy but damn him if he wants to think about it.

He walked down the stairs, the mental warzone fading to background noise as he grabbed his bowl and made himself breakfast.

He didn't have the energy to make anything fancy (the pounding headache the thoughts gave him took all of it).

Sitting down at the kitchen table with the cereal, stiring the milk idly, he turned to his side to talk to his-

Wait.

"Dad!"

"Yes, Kiddo?"

"Where's Remus?"

"He left with Janus this morning."

I thought they would a least give me notice before they decided to overthrow the government or decide to do something equally stupid.

"Thanks, Dad."

*******

Wroammin: Jan, what are you doing with my brother?

SnekSnekSeverusSnekDUMBLE- :Why do you ask?

Wroammin: You came to my house to pick up Rem before I woke up

Wroammin: And the sun just came up

Wroammin: The fuck are you two plotting and do I need a Hazmat suit or not

SnekSnekSeverusSnekDUMBLE- : I'm going to exercise my right of free speech

SnekSnekSeverusSnekDUMBLE-: By not using it

SnekSnekSeverusSnekDUMBLE- has blocked Wroammin

Wroammin: Fuck You

******

"Vale?"

Silence filled 3Q.

"Not here!"

Miss Quill took a pen out of her hair a jotted down a note on a scrap piece of paper, seemed to whisper something under her breath and do a small smile to herself.

"Xia?"

"Which one?"

"The virgin."

How the fuck does she know?

The class erupted into a symphony of laughter and mockery except for Roman, Virgil and Nyx (But Nyx was snoring so Roman didn't know to count it as a win or not).

Virgil looked over at his arch-nemesis, almost deciding to so something or not. He seemed to choose the latter.

And those eyes seemed the flair but it was just for one second, but it would be gone as quick as it started.

Roman placed his head on the table in embarrassment waiting for the humiliation to stop.

"...Here, Miss.."

(Virgil tapped Roman's shoulder).

"Yilton?"

(Roman lifted his head and gave him a a sharp glare. "Why the fuck are you speaking to me?")

"You can hear my voice."

( "Jeez," He lifted his hands in surrender. "This fell out of your man bun" The emo passed a pencil to the other.)

" Zander?"

(Roman snatched the pencil -ignoring the fact that it seemed to be glowing slightly- stuffed it in his hair and proceeded to give Virgil double birds).

"Xey're sick."

(Lunaper mimicked the action).

Quill closed the register tab.

"Ok mortals, take out your plann-"

The constant ringing of a bell that went on a little to long to be a period change.

The students sighed.

"Drop your bags and line up in register order in silence." The class groaned even louder but followed the instructions given.

Except Roman.

"Miss, it's raining buckets outside and someone in the staff probably just burned their toast, do we really have-"

"Xia,I told you to line up in silence!"

Even the older twin knew that trying to argue with Quill when she raised her voice was suicide so he slowly backed away and joined the line as he didn't bring anything that could cover him. And he was sure that someone was fucking with him as the rest of the class had brought protection except the emo.

Why the hell are you noticing I̘̒Ṫ͍͙͎̅͌'̛̯͎̐S̭̱̠̣͎̽̽̈́̄͠ ̳̥͖͂̋̇B̹̂É̯͙͚͕͂͌̕C̹͝A̙̮̱̓͌̀U͓̺̣̎̑̇Ś̳̣̮̀͑́͟E̲̦̓̽ ̘̫͑͑Y̬̠̊̄O͓͠U͈̓ ̢̟͎̅̽͋C̪̲̦̉̉͒A̰͎̔͘R̢̜̱̬͌̾͆͊̄͟É͈ ̨̦̺̓̇͞F̫͑O̖̕R̗̫͗̓ ̗̹̺̏͑̊H̩̼̒̇-him?

The pounding headache was back, like two parts of his brain where bitching with each other for some damn reason. He rubbed his temple to try and relieve the pain.

"You know the drill, walk in absolute silence to the plaza and wait for me while I get the paper register."

******

The class filled back in annoyed and wet. Turns out that a teacher had taken a cigarette break and the back of the the cafeteria block and that's what set off the alarms.

By the time they had returned, it was already half way into first period. Mx Spring had said that they should just consider this a free period and return to their homerooms. To pass the time Roman took out a his spare spiral notebook and started to sketch in it.

If you asked Roman what he drew during this time, he would know but not understand how he did it. He just remembered taking out the pencil he'd previously stuffed in his hair , an overwhelming calm rushing over him and waking up to find a scarily intricate version of the boy from his dreams on the lined paper.

This is the same Roman who would spend two and a half hours struggling to get the other eye just right was suddenly able to draw actual whole person in thirty minutes.

As the second period bell rang, he eyed his masterpiece warily and closed his notepad.

*******

Xia drifted off to the droning voice of his geography teacher, every though he knew that this was a crucial-

"Roman Xia and Virgil Lunaper, please make your way your way to the front desk, I said Roman Xia please make your way to the front desk."

The two boys stood up and packed up their stuff slowly, shrugged their backpacks onto their shoulders and quickly said by to their teacher.

******

"Holy shit, you're ok!" Roman was trying to wrap his head around why his Pa who was very reserved had tears streaking down his face.

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"Haven't you seen the news?"

"...What did I miss.."

Pa just passed Roman his phone and everything started to make sense.

******

There comes a time where a person would resort to mindless substance to try and escape the cold, unforgiving reality of life.

Well, Roman was clocking his fourth hour on twitter so you knew where he was emotionally.

He didn't want to get up. He didn't need to either. Both of his parents were going to out for a while anyway.

Putting down the phone (He gotten sick of staring at it) and deciding to move to the living room wh-

Are those stones?

"Princey!"

Roman walked up to the window and drew the blinds open. The emo was stood on his steps with his headphones, accompanied with a purple and black leather jacket.

Disgusting A̛̮̠̞̰̔̆̂D̙̺̓͛ORẴ̧̹̯͞B̖͓̐͟͠͠L̡̞̍̃E̡̯̮̿͘͞

"Why are you here Jack Smelligton?"

"Wow, you upgraded to insults that have four syllables, ten points to ravenclaw!"

The attacked emitted a sound that could only be described as offended princey noises.

"How I am-"

Virgil pressed his finger on Roman's lips.

"Ravenclaws are witty, competitive and creative. For the fact that you have an endless supply of nicknames for me and you always try to out do your last attempt to piss me off, you would meet the criteria."

If he doesn't H̨̻͖̣̥̐̂̒͂̎I̯͈͐̈́S̯̪̯̆̔̋ ̭̤͆͌͑͢Ș̭͑̊K͈̈Ì̬̖̙͈̅̍͡N̟̤͎͔̊̈͌͒ ̞̃I͇̪͊̑S̗̍ ̺̬̦̔̉̓Ś̩͍̄O̠̎ ͕̙̟̓̄̾S̥̊O̢̭̿͡F̨͕̭̔̈́̽-͖̲̭̩̂̅̾̆move his fingers off my mouth, I'm gonna break them.

Almost on cue with the thought, he removed it.

"I'm going to repeat my question, why are you here?"

Virgil took a step back and did a little chuckle to himself, with a shrug of shoulder that seemed custom fit.

God he's G̻͈̪̱̑̂̕͞O͈͐D̞̞̻̀͊̃ ͌͜Ț͖̱͐̀̏͢͡H̞̒Ȧ̺̳͞Ṱ̃'͈̦͕͌̔͌͊͟S̬̀ ̨̢̫̬̤́̄̓͗͛S̹̺͉̭̉̀̔͗̿ͅẸ̫͒͞X͎̟̥̹̀̾̓͒Y̧̢̫͙͌̒̾͞ - insufferable.

"Because even I, your sworn enemy and nemesis til death drags us part, don't think that you should grieve over someone who isn't even dead."

"You mean-"

"Trust me, Remy is very much alive."

******

"How did you even find my house?"

"That's the most pressing question on your mind right now?"

"It truly isn't but let me start with the small ones before the big ones emerge."

Virgil was lying on the couch with his sneakers touching the furniture. Roman had let him in after claiming that Remy still had a pulse. He was scrolling through his feed and according to Roman's peripheral vision, it seemed to be tumblr.

("He actually uses the Queue?")

("Did you say anything?"

("Nothing you need to know.")

("You sound like Janus.")

Roman glared at his feet.

"Take off your shoes if you are going to lay on the armrest."

"Fine!" He flinged his shoes at the other. It stained Roman's white tee.

"God, I hate you."

He pulled out both his earbuds and shots some finger guns at him.

"Right back at yah!"

Xia walked over and sat on the ottoman facing Lunaper.

"Let's get down to business-"

"TO DEFEAT THE HUNS!"

"Seriously, what do you mean 'Remy is very much alive', everyone with access to the internet saw what happened to him."

Virgil looked around, almost like he was scared of being seen or spotted or heard.

Did his eyes just change color?

"Look, I can't really tell you.."

"I'm getting sick of asking this, why are you here then?"

Virgil didn't respond.

"Why exactly are you here if you aren't going to try and explain-hmmmmm!"

Lunaper's was currently gagging his mouth with jacket.

" Stop speaking so loud."

Roman peered at the other.

"Whamt, ets not like whemre being watched."

"I'm just being- wait, give me a sec."

Virgil took the loose strand of Roman's hair and swiped it to the left.

I̛͇̜̺̦̎͐͠ ̘̂WA̹͍͘͡N̢̟͉̑̕͠T ͉̠̲̲̿̾͒̊T̥̮̍͞Ȏ̺̐͢ ̛̤̬̲̪̉́̏K̖̗̃̓I̧͕̫̩̼̔̎̃̀̇S̩̫̏̓S̙͛ ̧̫̞̒̇̕H͓̯́̋́ͅI͈̻͙̋͜͠͞͠M,͍͉͍̼͌̌̆͆ ͓̭̦̾͒̅I͓͇̹̩͚͂͐͑͡͡ ̥̑W̹̰̯͈͛͛̾͛A̞̲̩̎̍͞N̳̟̻͆̄̚T̢̛̖̏ ͓̋T͉̪͐̓O͇̤̝͛͂̿ Ć͉̯͛AṞ̳̠̈̄͘E̼͎̞͇͊͗͋́̕͟Ș̆Ṣ̈ ̡̨̡̗͕̊̂̂̓͠F͎̏Ặ̼̯̠̅͊́C̫̜̾̉E̢̟̣͎̱̿̾͒͌͒,̣̠́́ ̡͇̪͑̊̃͟͞Ì̼͕͙̥̤͑̆́̕ ͇͗W̧̫͉̘̉̃͘͡Ă̟̘͝N͉̊T̫̟͐̄ ̢͋T̞̃O ̨̡̀̆̄͑͜ͅĎ̢̦̖̤͑̂̕Ä̝̯̪́̒̚͜͠N̹͔̘͇̔̉̐̐C̥̔E̪̖̝͉̱͋̎̾̔̒ ̡̻̤̀͐̉̄͜WǏ̜̩̟́̀͒͜T̙̆H̥̆ ̟͍͔̈́̆̕H̪̣̽̐I̡̺̯͌̑́M̨̪̩̱̜͆̏̌̋̕ ̖͎̀̚'̯͉̅̀T͔̦͇̙̔̾̊͜͠͡I͎̤̞͔̥̎̿́̚͝L̜̥̅̑ ̛͔͖̰̌͌̚͢Ș̘̗̀̿̎U͔͗N͕͓͊̆̋ͅ ̪̪̟͌̒͒̂͜R̲̻̪̋͊̅̏͟Ì̪SḔ̙͟,̨̰̩͚͒̈͂̚ ̧̜̱̀̆́̊͜

"Fumck!"

The emo removed the make-shift gag.

"Are you ok?"

Xia moved his hands to his temple to try and relieve the pain.

,̨̰̩͚͒̈͂̚ ̧̜̱̀̆́̊͜Ỉ͈ ̳̣̙̗̊̒̓̚W͕̐A̱̙̣̙͛̎̎̀̓͜N̫̳̔͘T̰̜̝͌͛̀ ̲̃T̯̮̪͗̋̒Ỏ̗ ̩̞̝̊̎̋H̛̭̺̥͛̚OL̛͎̝̹͇̂̀̚D ̹̰̬̈̚͝H̤̫͙̅̔͝Ị̞̱̓̾̚Ḿ̞,̾͢ ̲̟̹̫͆͐͑̅I Ẃ̪̫͘Ã͢Ņ̹̋́Ț̛͍̒ ̰̭͕̏̇̔T̛̬̲͋O͈͒ ̬̂Ṭ̛̣̓̍͢O͕̩̟̎̄̐͌̕͟͟U̖͌̽͢C̰͕̈̽H ̲̝̦̱̄͂̚͡H͕̳͒̈́IM̡̱͖͗̎͆, ͔͞I͖̰̽͠-̢̘̜̹͚̄͗̑̑͡

"FUCK, EVERYTHING HURTS, IT HURTS TO THINK, IT HURTS TO SPEAK, I JUST WANT THE PAIN TO END!"

"PRINCEY!"

"MAKE IT STOP, WHY WON'T IT STOP?"

"PRINCEY!"

"IT HURTS, IT REALLY DOES!"

"ROMAN!"

And just for a second the voices stopped, they stopped stabbing and scratching and just stayed still.

Just for a second.

"FUUCCKK-"

"ROMAN," Virgil took his face into his hands. "Roman, please open your eyes, I need to check something."

Following the instructions ( He didn't remember even closing them) he was met with pools of space and stars and a galaxy of colors that were now the eyes of Virgil and not the chestnut brown he seen less than two minutes ago.

“You have a veil, you actually have a veil..”

“ The fuck does that mean, Surly Temple?”

“It means that someone has blocked something from your conscious thoughts.”

“What?”

“That’s not important, what is would be the fact that you’re going to want to bite onto something because this is going to hurt and I don’t want the neighbours getting any ideas.”

For the second time that day, Lunaper stuff his jacket into Roman’s mouth.

“I’m sorry..”

Even with the jacket the screech the Xia made would probably beat his Pa’s infamous falsehood.But with the pain gone and the veil dropped he could now see everything so much clearer.

So the moment when Virgil took the gag out of his mouth, he pulled him close and claimed his lips.

#logicality #prinxiety #dukeceit #qpr dukeceit #roman sanders #remy sanders #virgil sanders #moonboy au #wisp writes

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jising-jisang-jisung · 5 years

Text

Rollercoaster | Zhong Chenle

Genre: maybe angst, fluff

Word count: 1.4k

A/n: this was actually the original idea and then I built the series around this one 🤠 but idk I've been in Lele soft hours lately and I just love him so I hope I did this justice

Based off Jonas Bros song Rollercoaster

You loved field trips because it meant you weren't in class and you weren't technically missing any class either. It was the perfect scenario. The rumor was going around that class clown!chenle convinced your physics teacher to let you go to an amusement park to help you "study physics in the real world." This thought almost ruined the field trip for you because what I didn't mention was that Chenle is your ex boyfriend.

Last year Chenle was struggling in school and he blamed you for it. Basically, he was spending all his time with you and not on school, therefore it's your fault that he was failing algebra. N e wayz. He broke up with you which, in turn, broke your heart. It's been nearly a year and you are still getting over him and haven't dated since.

Regardless of any of that, you were determined to have fun on this trip. Until you realized that only the physics kids were going. You only had one friend in that class. Jisung, however, was also Chenle's best friend and left you with absolutely no one to talk to or ride rides with. That being said, Jisung would probably be too chicken anyway.

You hop on the bus and find a seat about 2/3 of the way back. This way you weren't by the rowdy kids in the back or packed in the front with all the normies. You were hoping to be invisible since you were all on your lonesome.

"Hey, y/n!" You felt the seat adjust as Jisung plopped himself down next to you.

"Oh. Hey, Jisungie. You scared me; I figured you'd sit by-"

"I'm sitting with him on the way back, but you on the way there," the boy cut you off before you mentioned your ex's name. Jisung was always doing that and, in a way, it was really sweet of him.

The bus started to limp it's way down the road, the loud students in the back assumed that was their queue to, you know, be loud. Chenle was one of these boys and his voice was heard over everyone else's. Jisung smiled kindly at you, handing over an airpod to cancel out Chenle's noise.

"Thanks." You smile back at your friend. He really was too kind for his own good.

You woke up to Jisung gently nudging your arm. You must've fallen asleep on his shoulder during the bus ride. "Y/n, wake up. We're here."

Everyone filed off of the bus and into lines to get into the park. Interestingly, Jisung stayed next to you and not Chenle.

You walked around with him for a while, but you were beginning to get bored. "Jisung, do you wanna ride one?"

"Oh. Um, I hadn't really considered that. Uh- I think er- no."

"You're no fun, you baby," you teased him.

"Oh yeah, I'm the baby when you're the one who is pouting right now. Fine. I'll go on one with you."

"The line said it will be about 20 minutes from here!" You exclaimed with a smile. Jisung, on the other hand, had turned white. He was sweating pretty bad too. "Are you gonna be able to go on it, Jisung?"

"Of course. Yeah, absolutely."

"If you really feel this bad about it, you don't have to just to make me happy. You need to be happy too! So I'll find someone else to go with and you and I will just get some cotton candy, okay?"

"No. I'm going to ride this," he stated firmly, waving his fists in the air.

The worker motioned for you two to sit down on the next car. You could barely contain your excitement.

"Oh my gosh." Jisung just, to put it simply, looked awful. "Y/n, I'm sorry. I'm gonna-" and he took off running for the bathrooms.

You felt like you'd just ruined your only physics friend's day by nearly forcing him on a rollercoaster. The attendant offered Jisung's seat to a boy in line behind you. His eyes widened as he sat down.

"H-hey, y/n."

"Hey, Lele- Chenle," you corrected yourself after using his nickname.

"You can call me Lele if you want. I always liked it when you did." Before you could make the situation any more awkward, the car lurched forward as it climbed the first hill. The coaster began to drop and you were thriving(tm). As it raced down before looping, you grabbed Chenle's hand without thinking. You both were screaming at the top of your lungs.

When the ride came to a stop, you realized your hands and quickly pulled away. "Sorry," you mumbled as you began to run off to find Jisung.

"Y/n, wait! If you wanna keep going on rides, you should just stay with me. You know Jisung won't want to."

In your head you knew this was a bad idea, but for some reason you said, "okay."

Ride after ride played out similarly. You squeezed each other's hands and yelled as you plummeted towards the Earth at what felt like the speed of sound. It was so natural, you didn't even question being with your ex boyfriend at this point. And that was a thought you didn't want to be having.

After probably the 19th rollercoaster, you decided to break for food. Chenle even offered to pay for your corndog, but you turned him down. "Y/n! I found you!" You heard Jisung shout from not too far away.

"Jisung! Where have you been?"

"I was walking around with Mei. She doesn't like rides either," he smiled as he said her name, persuading you to believe he might have a little crush. You nudged Chenle and he nodded, having picked up on it too.

"Well, why don't the four of us do something?" He suggested. Jisung looked and the boy, then back at you. He gave you a questioning look probably concerned for your wellbeing. Who in their right mind goes to an amusement park with their ex? "Jisung, are you afraid of ferris wheels or is it just the big rides?" Chenle continued to tease.

"Oh, I'm not afraid of anything," Jisung claims, puffing his chest.

"You're so brave," you add, grabbing Chenle's hand in yours. "Let's go!"

The four of you hopped in the cart for the wheel. You sat next to Mei and across from Chenle. You introduced yourself and instantly got along with her well. She was super bright and kind, you could see why Jisung liked her. As you talked with Mei, you noticed the two boys talking about something quietly. You weren't able to overhear without making it obvious. They immediately noticed when Mei and your conversation ended and stopped theirs as well.

"Hey y/n, will you switch seats with me?" Jisung asks innocently. Chenle's eyes widen as he shakes his head at Jisung. As the boy sat down where you were previously sitting, he gave Chenle a smirk. You were confused by his actions until he grabbed Mei's hand. She flushed red hues and turned towards Jisung. He returned her gaze, smiling, and unable to contain his blush as well. He leaned in and places a light kiss on her cheek. Moments later you found yourselves back at the bottom of the wheel. Jisung and Mei got off, but told the attendant you and Chenle were going again. He even winked at you as you lifted back into the sky. What was their conversation about?

Chenle suddenly began apologizing. "Y/n, I'm sorry. For everything. It was never your fault. My mom was always on my case for my grades- and that's not an excuse! I am the one to blame. I'm just trying to explain; trying to make things right." He looked at you with big puppy eyes.

"It's okay, Lele. I remember low lows and high highs. We were up and down. But I forgive you."

"Thanks, but that's not all-" he was cut off by you quickly pressing your lips to his nose.

"I'd go back and ride that rollercoaster with you. Do you want to ride it again? It was way more thrilling than this ferris wheel!" You smiled brightly at the speechless boy. He could only nod as an answer.

You walked hand in hand past Jisung and Mei and back towards the big kid rides. He looked at your hands before proudly proclaiming, "I see Chenle held up on his side of the agreement. Wait why are you guys going back for more coasters. We barely made it over!" Jisung bargained, but you kept walking. Your relationship didn't work out the first time, but this one felt different. Who knows, maybe the second times the charm?

#jb song series #master tag #chenle #zhong chenle #nct fluff #nct #nct imagines #nct chenle #chenle imagines #zhong chenle fluff #chenle fluff #zhong chenle imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream #nct dream imagines

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lastdancewith-mj · 6 years

Text

Catch Up. {Pt.2} HP.

Holy cow. I haven’t posted in forever. I’m so sorry. But I’m back now and I decided to write a part 2 to this old dramione fic because there was a pretty good reaction to the first one!

Warning: Language, some mild violence, and some angst.

A/N: Some of Hermione’s part can be taken as a Hermione/Fred Weasley pairing. But that’s not what I as the writer intend to write. It’s mostly platonic, because of course, they were close friends. Also, there has been a time jump of a few months. Imagine around November. Comments are encouraged and appreciated :)

Songs I listened to: Burn, Usher and Girl Like You, Edwyn Collins.

Masterlist/ Part 1

Hermione was tired of being tired. She took slow steps, and she had hunched shoulders. Her hair was messier than normal and her socks didn’t match. Even worse, her mind was beginning to short circuit.

And her teachers were telling her to slow down in her studies. (She knew she had time, contrary to what her professors thought, but she had already wasted so much time. A wrench had been thrown into her life plans and she needed to get it back.) They were telling her it’s okay if you can’t keep up like you used to, but Hermione refused to listen. Just because she wasn’t sleeping anymore didn’t mean she couldn’t do her class work.

Her nightmares were of her parents. It was a work day morning in the kitchen and they would be siting there, drinking coffee. Her dad would gulp his down loudly, and her mom would take the car keys, and they would leave together out the back door. When Hermione woke up from it, she would cry because she thought it was real.

Days (even though she didn’t like to admit it) sometimes went by as a blur to her because of the nightmares. But a few weeks ago, she saw something that she knew she would never miss.

There was a new ghost playing with first years in front of the Great Hall. First she heard a laugh, and then she saw his face, and then she froze in her tracks. It was face that she knew well. A face that made her laugh. It was a face that used to fly. It was a face that twirled her at Bill’s wedding. (If the ghost wasn’t grey, Hermione was sure that Fred Weasley’s hair was still bright as ever.)

After she saw him, she turned and ran straight to Ron and Ginny, who were both getting in a morning practice on the pitch. Ron apparently had no clue his brother was at Hogwarts, and didn’t believe Hermione until he went to catch a glimpse himself. Ginny had known, but kept it to herself. Hermione figured that meant Harry must have known too.

It was Monday morning, and like most Mondays Fred was standing at the entry to the Great Hall, greeting students as the filed past him. Instead of sneaking by like she normally would, Hermione joined the queue that formed to meet the legend. She was sick and tired of hiding from him. Not only did she feel guilty, she just plain missed him. And Hermione wasn’t going to waste any opportunity to see a loved one.

(She wished there were more of them, but then she felt selfish.)

When she was next, Fred saw her coming and waved at her as if he saw her yesterday. There was a dark grey stain on his shirt, but Hermione ignored it and instead looked up to see his face. It was still covered in freckles, and he still had the scar he had on his arm.

Students passed around her because Hermione planted herself right next to him and wasn’t moving. Wisps of smoke from around him was curling around Hermione slightly. Fred had to tilt his head down to look at her in the eyes. When he did, he put one of hands to his lips and blew her a kiss.

“Well, hello Hermione.” said Fred. He looked down at her fondly, and she wanted to cry. The urge to have a meltdown was so strong, but she didn’t dare. If she did, Fred wouldn’t be able to hug her, and that would hurt even more. “How’s life?” He was trying to joke with her, of course. She smiled softly, but it was gone quickly.

“Fred. I’m-I-” She looked at him desperately. He had to understand how she was feeling. He had too, because she didn’t know if she could vocalize it.

Fred reached out for her, but his hand went right through her shoulder. His eyes held a new type of sadness that Hermione didn’t recognize of him. “Oh Hermione. You poor little thing...” His voice was soft and low, a private moment between them.

“I’m so, so, so, so, so, so-”

“Stop it. Do not say anything like that, please, Hermione. You couldn’t do anything to stop it, okay? You were a little busy that day, I believe. Better you than me, and that’s a fact I can admit. In that moment in time, it was my turn. Hermione, please don’t cry, please. Please stop, okay. Look-check me, give me a physical, you’ll see. I’m not hurt. I was, but I’m not. Okay? Please. Tell me you’re okay. You’re the brightest most bitchin’ witch of your age, Hermione. Don’t tell me a little Fred Weasley puts you to tears. There are a lot more scary monsters. Okay? I’m okay.”

She believed him, because when Fred Weasley was pleading with you, that’s what you did. Hermione had a weakness for the Weasley family and she trusted all of them, no matter what.

The next day, she convinced her friends to go visit him with her. Fred didn’t have to say it, but she knew he was lonely.

Draco was getting sick and tired of being followed by his peers. They must of thought he was dim witted, or blind, or deaf, because no one cared that they were talking about him so obviously. Classmates whispered about his father as they passed, shooting him looks of disgust. Ravenclaws snickered behind his back. They didn’t even dare to say something to his face. It was pathetic.

One Monday morning, a Slytherin fifth year stuck out his leg in front of Draco’s path in the Great Hall, attempting to trip him. Luckily Blaise was right behind his friend’s shoulder and caught sight of the sneaker before it could do physical damage. He put a warning hand on Draco’s back, stopping him immediately and allowing him to notice.

“Watch where you step, Malfoy,” said the fifth year. His friends seemed pleased with these events, thinking they have the upper hand, and were watching as they ate breakfast. Draco was disgusted to see that they couldn’t even stop chewing to torment him. Draco thought he deserved that much. “Wouldn’t want you to fall.” He said, thick with sarcasm.

Draco had so much practice keeping his face neutral that it came easy to him. “Very clever.” He kept his mask of cool indifference, and forced himself to breathe and take his time to scan the seated group of boys. There were at least five. Blaise stood at his side in the aisle, smirking. (Blaise couldn’t believe how bloody brilliant Draco was. He saw him at night having a fit from his nightmares, and then he saw him like that, and Blaise thought Draco was damn good at living two lives.)

“Didn’t your mothers ever teach you to chew with your mouths closed?” said Draco.

A Scottish boy with a round face and flat nose stood up and shouted. “Hey! Why don’t you just fuck off.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” said Draco, crossing his arms. He sort of swayed his shoulders, his face passive. “I forgot you were raised by wolves. How did it work, exactly? Did a wolf catch your mother one day in the forest and just mount-” Draco didn’t finish his insult because the Scottish boy soared and punched Draco in the face.

The actual hit had little force behind it, but the surprise was what sent Draco backwards. He landed on the bench of Ravenclaw’s table next to them, with a dull pain on the side of his face. He moved his jaw for a moment, but he was fine. In fact, he was good enough to stand up again and throw his own punch, which sent the younger boy to the floor. Dimly he knew that this was an unfair fight, but that voice was overpowered by his blind urge to hit something. Draco felt Blaise try to hold him back but it was no use. Draco jumped on the kid, and hit him. Again and Again.

He was only aware of his surroundings when Headmistress McGonagall levitated him off the boy. Draco hung in the air briefly. From his new vantage point he could see the large crowd he attracted. Almost the whole Great Hall had raised from their seats to see the spectacle of Draco Malfoy crumbling, just like they were waiting for.

When Draco was set down it was no better. Now he saw the face of Headmistress McGonagall, the woman who aloud him back into Hogwarts. Despite everything, he always respected the woman. At least she had moral. At least she knew where she belonged. At least she disciplined him, after all these years, if any one ever did.

“Mr. Malfoy, my office this instant.” she said, and he went.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed it!

#Harry Potter #harry potter headcannon #draco malfoy imagine #draco x hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #ron weasley #hermione x fred #fred weasley #ginny weasley #harry x ginny #hogwarts fic #hogwarts houses #angst #hp #hermione #dramione

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no-shit-sherl0ck · 7 years

Text

Slow hands

AU!!!

Short Poe x reader shot.

Summary: Poe is a long lost lover, but now he is your college teacher!!!!

I highly recommend to listen Slow Hands - Niall Horan while reading.

Enjoy!

The people inside the room felt non-existent at the moment he walked in. His coat was looking as perfect as usual in his firm body, making him feel more masculine than any of the men in here. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. The image of him, walking like a lion to its prey still haunted me. My cheeks turned pink at the thought of what could’ve had happened if we wouldn’t have been interrupted.

‘’Morning,’’ he said, taking his dark glasses off, scanning the room, his eyes stopping only a second too long on me. ‘’I hope you all brought your papers.’’ Murmurs and people scared looks filled the room. ‘’Come one, guys. I gave you plenty of time. Please, bring your papers to my desk.’’

One by one the students stood up and walked towards him, but not me. I was stuck to my seat. My paper was in my hand, ready to be handed yet, I couldn’t move. How was I supposed to look at him in the eyes after what had happened on Friday? The mere memory made my heart skip a beat.

Again.

‘’I think you are beautiful,’’ he said, walking towards me, slowly, with his eyes locked with mine.

‘’You are drunk, that’s what I think,’’ I answered, nervously as I hit the wall behind me. There was nowhere to run.

‘’No, I’m not.’’

‘’Yes, you are.’’

‘’Okay, maybe a little.’’ He admitted, showing me his almost-touching thumb and index. ‘’I miss you.’’

I swallowed.

‘’You should go home, Poe.’’

‘’I finally have the courage to say what I’ve wanted to say since the day we saw each other again and you are sending me home? I feel hurt.’’ He took a step closer. My heart pounded faster against my ribcage. We were just mere inches apart.

‘’Let’s not do something we will regret tomorrow.’’ I said. Our noses were gracing each other. I could smell the alcohol in his breath, yet his eyes had never been clearer.

‘’Let me kiss you,’’ he whispered, our lips almost touching.

I took a deep breath and opened my lips, ready to give him what he wanted.

I was weak.

However, the universe had other plans. The bathroom door opened and a group of girls walked in, drunk and giggling. They didn’t even care for the scene behind them, but we cared.

Poe closed his eyes, a little bothered that we had been interrupted, and my heart fell in disappointment.

I was dying to taste his lips and I could feel how desperate he was to taste mine.

‘’I’ll see you on Monday.’’ I said, pushing myself off the wall, walking past him and out of the room.

‘’Anyone else?’’ Poe asked, forcing me to push the memory at the back of my mind. It was a good paper, and I had to deliver it, so I took a deep breath and collected the necessary amount of courage to stand up and walk to his desk.

While I was walking between the queues, calming myself, a hand grabbed my wrist, making me stop.

‘’Hey, ‘’ I turned to see Mike, one of my very insistent classmates.

‘’Hey,’’ I said back, forcing a smile.

‘’I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night? I need some help with the paper for next week and since you are one of the best in the class…’’ he gave me a look that said that he wasn’t thinking much about ‘studying’.

‘’oh, ammh, I don’t know, ‘’ I said, tensing my shoulders. I never felt comfortable around him. I don’t think I’ll ever will.

‘’Come on, it’ll be an hour, top.’’

I didn’t know what to say, I was getting nervous because I obviously didn’t have anything to do tomorrow night, and I felt kind of bad lying to him again.

‘I –’’

‘’Am I interrupting?’’ I heard behind me, making me jump slightly.

‘’Mr. Dameron, of course you are not. I was just asking for a tutorship to one of your top students,’’ Mike gave Poe a big smile, which Poe didn’t reply.

‘’And when would this be?’’ Poe asked, looking from Mike to me.

‘’Tomorrow.’’ Mike answered, like it had already been settled.

‘’I’m afraid this tutorship would not be possible, Mr. Michael.’’

‘’Why not?’’ Asked Mike, a little surprised. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one.

‘’Because my top student will be assisting me with your latest papers, that’s why. I hope you haven’t forgotten about that,’’ he said turning to me. I looked at him with big eyes, feeling my throat dry. He was really doing this.

‘’Of course not, ‘’ I answered looking at him in the eyes. They looked fierce, yet at the same time, they looked protective.

‘’Good, I’ll be waiting. Is that your paper?’’ He pointed to my shaky hand.

‘’Yes,’’

‘’I bet it’ll be as good as the last one,’’ he gave me a little smile, making my heart go wild.

‘’Surely hope so,’’ I answered handing him the paper, trying to calm myself down. I was acting like a freaking teenager. I’m in college, for God’s sake.

Poe took the paper from my hand, making our fingers barely touch.

‘’Have a sit, please.’’ Poe ordered with a soft voice, staring at me, deeply.

I couldn’t answer, I only turned my back at him and walked to my desk and stayed there for the next forty minutes, not taking my eyes off of my dear professor the whole time.

What am I doing? I asked myself again and again.

I was standing outside Poe’s office, ready to knock, but not doing it.

He had said that needed my help, however, for a second it felt like he was just rescuing me from being alone with Mike, but what if he actually needed my help and I didn’t show up?

There was only one way to find out, so I knocked.

Dammit.

‘’Come on in.’’

I opened the door slowly, sneaking my head first.

‘’I was just asking if you really needed my help.’’

Poe lifted his eyes to where I was standing, a little surprised, I noticed.

‘’Please, come in.’’ He said, removing his reading glasses. He looked hot in those.

I walked inside, closing the door behind me, trying to look as casual as possible.

‘’I wasn’t sure if you were really giving me a task earlier, or only –‘’

‘’…saving you from a jerk?’’ He finished for me, giving me a crocked smile.

‘’I wasn’t going to put it like that, but yeah.’’

He chuckled slightly.

‘’Yeah, it was the last one.’’

‘’Oh, I’ll be going then. I don’t want to disturb you.’’

‘’You do not disturb, not at all. Please, stay.’’ He stood up before I could try to leave. I wasn’t going to try, anyway.

‘’So, you do need help?’’ I raised my brows.

‘’No, but I want you to stay.’’ He walked towards me, with the stare of a lion, again.

‘’Poe…’’

‘’Whatever you are about to say, don’t. ‘’ He reached me, and placed his hand on my neck, his thumb touching my lobe. I closed my eyes at the contact.

He took one last step and his body was fully touching mine. I could feel the heat radiating from him.

‘’Are you drunk again? You know it is prohibited to drink at the campus.’’ I tried to joke.

He chuckled again, pressing his forehead to mine.

‘’You know I’m not.’’

Yup, I knew he wasn’t.

‘’Why are you doing this?’’ I asked.

‘’You are driving me crazy, you know that?’’ I felt his breath upon my lips.

‘’We can’t.’’ I whispered, and punched myself internally.

‘’Who says we can’t?’’

‘’Umh, the University rules?’’

‘’Screw the university rules, I have to do this, or I won’t be able to make it another day.’’

And as he finished talking he pressed his lips to mine, passionately, starving, yet carefully. I knew this wasn’t the first time this happened, but it certainly felt like It was just know that my mouth was meeting his. I pressed my hands at the back of his neck, pulling him closer. I couldn’t get enough. One of his hands was at my lower back and the other on the crock of my neck, helping him deepen the kiss. My lips opened at the touch of his tongue on my lower lip, and I let it in, welcoming it like a missed, old whatever. My brain was unable to think right now. A soft growl came from his mouth when I pressed my hips closer to his, feeling the need. My knees went weak, but he didn’t give me the chance to feel them weaver because he grabbed me and pulled me up, making me cross my legs around his hips. With his hands on my thighs, and mine around his neck he walked us to his desk, throwing a few things to the floor.

‘’God, I had missed this.’’ He said, without distancing himself from me.

‘’Yeah, me too.’’ I looked him in the eyes, directly. They were filled with desire. I bet they reflected mine.

‘’I wanna be with you all night long,’’ He said, looking all over my face, his eyes stopping at my lips.

‘’Take me home, then.’’ I said.

And I needn’t say anything else. Without another word, he kissed me again and took me back to his place. I won’t ever forget the things we did that night, or the night after, or the next.

I promised myself that I was not walking away from this ever again.

I was right where I needed to be.

#poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars #sw #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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ourkarlanicoleuniverse · 3 years

Text

Sweet Nothing (MHA Staff AU Fanfiction)

Chapter 17

Warnings: None, swf.

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x OC (Mai Montoya, Pro Hero Zion)

If you want to read of the events before this chapter here is the Master List 😊

"I want you to train me to use One for All, especially since Gran Torino can't." Midoriya's words rang through like a gong.

"I don't have a teaching..."

"A teaching license, I know. But Gran Torino told me that it would be best if you trained me because of how much you struggled to control your own quirk. Plus, apparently, you can reverse any injuries I might get from training." The boy mumbled the last part. His freckles a bright hot pink as he bashfully interrupted me.

"He told you I could do that?" I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms as he nodded. I let out an annoyed sigh, "I don't use it often because it drains me the most. It's pretty much Recovery Girl's quirk. I've had it since I was fifteen. But why she let me have it isn't that important."

"It's because she was afraid that one day you would be in a situation like All Might's, and she didn't want to worry about you not being able to heal." I am going to kill Gran Torino because of his big mouth.

"Is there anything else the old man mentioned to you before I continue to tell you no to training you?"

"No, not really. He said that I would have to pester until you said yes. And to tell you that you were the same way as me in high school, so it's only karma that I am in your life now." He let out a breathy nervous chuckle while shifting between feet and scratching his head.

My mouth was left slightly agape, "I was not! I can't believe he said that! I was a very responsible kid." I folded my arms and started mindlessly tapping my foot.

"You know your reaction doesn't help you, Ms. Montoya..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I am not training you. I already told All Might that I wasn't going to, and Gran Torino can't think I am going to change my mind because he said so." I turned my nose up, trying to stand my ground.

"Is that a bruise on your neck?" I opened my eyes and realized that Aizawa's capture weapon fell a little from where it covered my hickey.

I quickly went to cover it, "Nope. It's a burn from using my curling iron when I was getting ready for my date."

"Date? With who? Mr. Aizawa?" Midoriya gave a little mischievous smirk and crossed his arms in a cocky manner. This was a different light this child normally stood in.

"No, not Mr. Aizawa." I glared.

"Could've fooled me. You guys seemed really close earlier." His smirk grew once he thought of an idea. "If you train me, no one will know about your 'burn,' and I will never bring up your date to the class."

"You're not going to sucker me into training you by blackmailing."

"Okay, then I'll tell the class about your hickey and have Mina pester you about it when you get back on campus." He shrugged and gave off an innocent smile. This brat is evil. "And on a final note, my mom trusts you a lot, so who better person to have train me than someone my mom knows won't have me in danger?"

I can't believe I am going to let this boy blackmail me... I sighed and gave him a playful shrug while making a mental note not to underestimate the kid. "Fine, I'll do it if it means that it keeps your mom sane. BUT you have to do as I say, and we train before or after school hours on campus, so no one finds out that you are getting extra help from me. I can't risk getting in trouble training All Might's successor."

The boy gave me a gleeful grin with excitement in his eyes, "Thank you!"

He went for a hug, and I simply patted his soft forestry hair, still slightly annoyed, "Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. For a nice kid, you can sure be evil if you want to be."

"Gran Torino said it was the only way you would respond with a yes if I had something I can use against you. But I couldn't think of anything until I saw the hickey. Don't worry. I wasn't going to say anything anyway. Can I write all the information about your quirk in my notebook while we train?"

He pulled back from hugging me slightly to look at my face waiting for an answer, "All Might and Gran Torino hinted a few times that your quirk was a touchy subject for you, so I wanted to ask before."

"Let's train first, and I'll see what I think after the first few sessions, okay?" I pulled his hair back out of his face to see his emerald eyes.

He brightly smiled and nodded while pulling me in closer to show his gratitude more. "Thank you again. I am going to go back to the room with Todoroki and Iida, okay?" I simply grinned and nudged him that way as we started to walk back. Now how am I going to tell Toshinori that he got his wish? I can already hear him saying, "I told you that it was the best thing for you to train, Young Midoriya. I'm glad you came to your senses." Ugh...

_________

"I'm glad we came to an agreement about Young Midoriya. He was pleased to have you train him, Mai." My old mentor smiled brightly and pridefully as he went in for a sip of his tea.

"Yeah, did he mentioned that Gran Torino told him to blackmail me," I grumbled on the couch in the teacher's lounge while munching on some cookies.

"You needn't pout, sweetie. And yes, he did. He also mentioned the hickey." I nearly choked. I looked at Toshinori, mortified how all the wrong people know about the stupid hickey Vlad left. I was met with a raised eyebrow with the side of knowing sunken blue crystals staring at me. "I am not judging. I am actually glad to hear that you and Aizawa made amends and moved past what happened in high school..."

"He said it was Aizawa?!" I half shrieked half coughed because of the cookie still lodged in my mouth.

"Was it not Aizawa?" The skeleton of a man before me scrunched his eyebrows. He then leaned over to pat my back lightly to help with the coughing.

"No, it wasn't." I grabbed hold of his arm to let him know I was okay and wasn't choking anymore. "I went on a date with Vlad. We've been having a thing for a little while, so we decided actually to go on a date, and it almost went further, but then I had to go to the hospital. The hickey was just..."

"I got the memo. You don't need to explain any further. Please." He grumbled the 'please' part, probably hating this as much as I do.

"Can we just agree to never, and I mean NEVER speak of my love life or anything like that? I was already embarrassed enough when Aizawa and MIdoriya mentioned it at the hospital." I puffed my cheeks out and mumbled.

"Yeah, no, never again." And queue the awkward silence.

We were avoiding eye contact. Suddenly our cups of tea became the most interesting thing ever. "So, I heard that Nezu wanted to revamp the final exam... I hope he's not planning anything too difficult for the students."

"The teachers are supposed to have a meeting about it later today, so I'll keep you updated about what happens. Do you want any help with how to train Midoriya?"

I shook my head, "No, I have a few ideas up my sleeve. But thank you. If Nezu or even Aizawa, try and make the practical part of the exam harder than it already is, please make sure that the counselors and parents won't be happy." Toshinori simply just nodded.

Suddenly my phone kept buzzing in my pocket. I looked at it, and luckily it was just a video call from my mom and not any unwanted callers. I answered and immediately was met with, "Wow que milagro that the great Mai Montoya finally answered her mother's calls." There she was, the curly-haired doctor, Mia Emily Montoya.

"Hi, mom. Sorry I've been really busy with my students." I sighed as the woman on the screen did nothing but glare. "I'm with Toshi, see!" I moved my phone to show Toshinori to my mom, to which he reacted with a small blush and wave.

My mom's glare didn't subside. "Mai, I called you to see you, not Toshinori Yagi. Please move back to your face."

"That's a little harsh, not even a little hello to him." I gave a little playful pout, which made my mom more annoyed, "Okay, fine, here's my lovely face. What do you want to talk about?"

"Oh, nothing much. I recently got a new tv for the living room... What do you think I want to talk about, Mai. I want to know what has my one and only daughter has been doing since she doesn't respond to me ever."

"Well, I am at work right now."

"You don't look busy."

"That's not... you know what, nevermind. I have been counseling a class of 20 wonderful students that are aspiring to be pro heroes. I have also been sightseeing in the city since I haven't been here for years."

"Is that it?"

"Pretty much. Nothing too scandalous sorry."

"How are my boys? I miss Hizashi and Shouta." Why am I not surprised that she would ask about them?

"They actually work at the school as teachers. Hizashi teaches English." I gave a tight lip smile.

"And my pretty boy? What does he teach? He's always been so good with children." My mom's eyes lit up, just mentioning Aizawa. It was a little sickening.

"He's one of the homeroom teachers for the first year hero course students."

"So that means you guys work together? Since you counsel the hero course students?"

"Yes, I counsel his class specifically."

And with that, my mom had a Cheshire smile all over her face. "That's good to hear. You guys were always the pair. I don't know why you guys stopped being friends, but it's good to see that you are back together. Tell him I said hi and that I miss him, will you? I would love to hear from him. Is he still as handsome as he was when he was a boy?"

"I wouldn't know, mom. But I'll let him know that you still like him a lot. I'm sure it will brighten the grump's day."

"You're not blind, Mai. I am sure you can see if Shota was good looking or not. You just don't want to say he is." She pursed her lips, vexing me.

"That's not true. I just don't pay attention to people's looks, and he's a coworker, so it's unprofessional nonetheless. Right, Toshi?" I looked over to him and silently pleaded for him to agree and switch the subject when the topic of discussion walked in.

"Ms. Montoya, Sero taped up Mineta again, and I don't want to deal with it, so can you go tell him to take him down?" The man walked past us and went straight to the coffee machine.

"Was that my boy?" My mom perched up, "Shota, come over here. I want to see your face!" Aizawa stiffened and then hunched over, slowly turning to look at me with an annoyed face.

I gave him an innocent smile, "My mom called, and I wasn't doing anything, so I answered."

He blinked a few times before taking a deep breath and walking over to the couch, and leaned over my shoulder. He masks his annoyance with a charming grin, opposite to the creepy, sadistic smile he gives the students. "Hello, Dr. Montoya."

"Hello, dear! How are you? I hope my daughter hasn't been giving you a hard time?" Excuse me?

"No, she's been treating me well. If anything, I'm the one giving her a hard time. She's always working with the students because of me." He admitted, "But she and my students adore each other, so I don't think it's a big issue."

"I see you still have your hair in your face. It got so long! And now you have facial hair! You look like a grown man." My mom clicked her tongue.

"He is a grown man..." I pointed.

"I'm just saying he looks old. I remember him having such a bad case of a babyface. So it's odd to see him look his age." She defended. "You also don't look like you get a lot of sleep. You better be sleeping, sweetheart."

"I get enough sleep, but thank you for worrying." I couldn't help but scoff. Aizawa then glared at me, "Did I say something that amused you?"

"Yeah, you saying you get enough sleep. Mom, this man teaches, but he does patrols at night, so he takes naps in a sleeping bag at work. I'm normally the one that has to wake him up." Aizawa flicked my forehead, "Ow, what was that for?"

"No one likes a snitch." I stuck my tongue out at him, "Stop acting like a child. You're almost thirty." He shook his head and turned his attention to my phone, "Okay, maybe she does give me a hard time sometimes."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Toshinori looking at us with a warm grin. Both Toshinori and my mom began to chuckle after a few seconds of silence, "I'm glad you guys can get along so well." My mom finally said after catching a breath.

"This is them on a daily basis, Mia," Toshinori spoke up. "Your daughter tries to act like she's a mature adult, but once she's with her old friends, she reverts to her fifteen-year-old self. And then the rest of them start to do the same. It's contagious."

"That's cute." My mom smiled. "Well, I am going to let you go since you're at work. It was nice to talk a little finally. And Shota, you grew to be a very handsome man like I suspected. But please dress less like a homeless man."

"It's..." I moved my left hand in front of his face and shook my head, motioning him to stop before saying anything because I knew that it wouldn't stop my mom from calling him a hobo.

"I'll talk to you soon, baby. Please be careful. I don't want to see you getting hurt like Shota and your other coworker did when those villains came onto the school. I am grateful to see you are well, Shota sweetie."

Aizawa gave my mom a tight lip smile and put his right hand on my head, "Yeah, that's mostly due to Mai being on my ass 24/7 during my recovery. I have her to thank along with the doctors and Recovery Girl."

"Like I said, Mai. Always the pair. Toshinori, take care of our girl, okay? Don't let a thing happen to her while she's there! Bye te quiero, mi Sión."

"Love you too, mom." I breathed out a content sigh once I ended the call.

"And you kept complaining about not wanting to talk to your mom." Aizawa patted my head and went back to the coffee machine.

As he left me, it finally dawned on me what he came in here for in the first place, "Mr. Aizawa?"

"Yes, Mai?" His tone was mixed with a sing-song voice and an exasperated voice.

"SERO TAPED UP MINETA AND YOU JUST LEFT THE ROOM!" The six-foot-nothing man's eyes widened while Toshinori just awkwardly sipped his tea.

Aizawa then activated his quirk for some unknown reason, "Why are you using your quirk?" I tilted my head and scrunched my face in confusion.

"You turned on yours first!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did, Mai. Your eyes were blue, and your hair was starting to glow." Toshinori calmly said, still drinking his tea.

"Oh." I shrugged calmly, deactivating my quirk, "Oh well."

Aizawa looked astonished, "Oh well? You should have a better handle of your quirk by now!"

"Well, I can't help it if someone pisses me off and I let my control go. Anyhoo, I'll go help Mineta out since you won't." I got up from the couch, smoothed out my skirt, and started to make my way over to the class. Not without a final word to Aizawa, "I don't feel comfortable being the one that has to deal with Mineta all the time. He's always drooling and staring. You should be the one dealing with him."

"I figured one of these days you'll blow up on him the way you just did with me. But I guess not." Aizawa shrugged and sipped his coffee while heading over to his desk. Yeah, sure. Like that will stop the little pervert.

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

Tag List

@multifandoms916 @thatgirlwithcamera @inumorph @mel-sanch

#mha oc #mha #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #oc x canon #canon x oc #shota aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa x oc #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero oc

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mchanv · 4 years

Text

(DFYaH) Chapter 10: Christmas Break

[Originally on AO3]

Summary: I’ve always wondered what Draco Malfoy’s side of the Harry Potter saga was, that’s how I came up with this idea. It is not possible at all to be canon, due to the inability of certain magical items in the story. It runs alongside the books very closely, so some dialogue or actions can come directly from them. Draco Malfoy goes to Hogwarts for his first year. After being sorted into Slytherin and the night had fallen, a strange silvery bird gives him a message. The bird, seemingly a Phoenix, belongs to Albus Dumbledore, his Headmaster, who gives Draco a book upon his arrival in his office that same night. Draco has no idea what the book meant, but decides to go through with what Dumbledore has asked of him.

Ship: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood (background)

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Word count: 3,303

—————

It was the next day, a Sunday, when Pansy and Draco made their way together to the lake. They decided that would be one of the safer places to discuss matters they shouldn’t even know. Draco had his backpack with him. In there were a couple of things: the book, notebook, pencil, eraser, sharpener, two rolls of parchment, a quill, a spare quill, and ink.

They settled down beneath a tree, and Draco took out the book and laid it in his lap. “So,” he started, looking at Pansy, “where should we start?”

“What about, Hallowe’en?” Pansy asked. Draco thought for a second but shook his head. “Where then?”

“Let’s start at Diagon Alley,” he decided, opening the book at the beginning of that chapter. Pansy raised her eyebrows, confused.

“Why there?” she asked. Draco looked up from the book to meet her eyes.

“Well,” he explained, “before Potter went to Hogwarts, he went to Diagon Alley for all his school things. That’s were I met him as well, but that’s a different story—“

“You’ve told me a few times already,” Pansy intervened, smirking.

“Shush!” He cleared his throat. “He went there the day that Gringotts break-in happened. Wait—“ He took the book and went to the page with the article, showing it to Pansy before remembering she couldn’t read it. “I’ll read it...

“Gringotts break-in latest. Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts’ goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier the same day.”

He looked up at Pansy. “31 July was the day Potter went to Diagon Alley, it’s believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches, so Hogwarts would be the safest hiding spot, and the vault had been emptied earlier that day. Earlier that day, Hagrid emptied a top-secret Hogwarts business vault!” He finished with a smile on his face.

“So that means the one who wants to have that... thing... was there the day Potter was there. Is there something in the book about a mysterious person?” Pansy wondered. Draco’s eyes widened in realisation as he quickly went back to the scene in the Leaky Cauldron.

“Pansy, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed, “Listen to this!” And he read her the part about Quirrell. After he finished, he turned to Pansy, whose mouth hung open slightly. “Did you notice anything strange about Quirrell during the match?”

She looked down thoughtfully. “There was something... I think I saw Granger push him over...” Then, her eyes widened with realisation. “Of course!” she exclaimed, “Because Granger pushed him, his eye contact was broken! He was the one jinxing Potter!”

Draco thought so too, and he felt a sudden desire to at least severely injure that so-called teacher. Let’s see how he is against actual Dark Magic. His murderous thoughts must have shown on his face as Pansy nudged him.

“Wait until Potter finds out, then you can kill him together,” she joked, Draco gave her a small push as she started laughing. He crossed his arms and turned away, pouting childishly.

“But what about Snape then? Granger can’t have been mistaken...” Pansy said thoughtfully. Draco smirked.

“Oh, can’t she?” he teased, earning a pinkish tint on her cheeks.

“I’m being serious, Draco!” she exclaimed wildly. Draco stopped laughing.

“Right, yeah...”

“Is there a way he was saying a counter-curse?” Pansy muttered, more to herself. But Draco heard it and snapped his gaze towards her.

“Since when do you seem to know everything?” he asked her, she shrugged. “Wait,” he said, as he started going through the pages.

When he found the part, he looked back up at her. “I think he suspects Quirrell,” he started explaining, “Snape got bit by that Fluffy during Hallowe’en, making the trio suspect he tried to get past it. But we know better. What if Quirrell let that troll in, and Snape knew and went to the third floor, thinking Quirrell would be there. But he was mistaken, it was a trap, Quirrell wasn’t there and the dog bit him.”

As he finished, Pansy looked at him triumphantly. “Can you read through your notes and see if there’s anything more?” she asked him. He nodded and they went through his notes together.

It was late that afternoon that they went back to their Dormitories. They passed the library and saw the trio busy... reading? Draco halted his steps. He knew Granger read often, but Potter and Weasley? Pansy noticed this and took a look in the library.

She turned to Draco. “Do you think they’re trying to figure out who that Nicholas Flamel is?” she asked him in a whisper.

“Salazar, Pansy, you really do know everything today, don’t you?” he joked, but knew she had a point and that they’d better do the same. They decided earlier on waiting until Christmas break so they could ask their parents, but if those three found out about him before Draco...

Draco shook his head and continued walking to the Slytherin Dormitories.

—————

The weeks leading up to Christmas break were relatively nice, Draco decided while making his way to the dungeons for the last Potions class of the term. In two days, they would be back on the train home. At least those who went home of course.

Draco did feel sorry for Potter and his ‘family’, and certainly understood why he wanted to stay at Hogwarts. He would have done the same.

But besides those thoughts, and the secret discussions of his and Pansy’s plan, there were also nice moments. One morning, the grounds of Hogwarts were layered with a big pack of snow, and the lake was frozen solid. He himself had hidden beneath a tree with Pansy, enjoying the scenery and using the time to work on their plan, when many of the other students had entered the grounds.

Most of the younger years were just playing around in the snow, but what excited Draco the most was the Weasley twins bewitching snowballs to fly after Quirrell. It might not have helped much about his malicious thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to him, which often resulted in him murderously killing his teacher, but it certainly caused a good laugh.

In the classroom, he made sure to follow the book again. He walked in, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle following him, and sat down in his usual seat. As the class begun, he said, while looking at Potter, and loud enough for him to hear, “I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.”

It was a relief to see the Gryffindor ignoring him, rather than attacking.

After class, Pansy went ahead, as she wasn’t mentioned in the next part. Draco made his way out the room right after the trio left, Crabbe and Goyle following closely behind.

Upon seeing the trio halting in front of a giant tree that was blocking the hall, he quietly prepared himself for his lines. His queue followed suit.

“Nah, I’m all right, thanks, Ron,” Hagrid’s scruffy voice came from behind the tree.

“Would you mind moving out of the way?” Draco said in his best attempt at a cold drawl. He turned his attention on Weasley alone and continued, “Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid’s must seem like a palace compared to what your family’s used to.”

Weasley looked furious, and Draco prepared himself for it. A mere moment later, the red-head dived at him, grabbing the front of his ropes. Draco stayed calm, knowing his saviour was—

“WEASLEY!” Severus’s voice bellowed through the hallway.

—right there. Weasley let go of him and Draco straightened his robed with his hands as Hagrid tried defending Weasley.

“Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid,” Snape accused solemnly. “Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be granted it isn’t more. Move along, all of you.”

Draco hastily pushed past the tree, Crabbe and Goyle following, and he could swear he saw Granger throwing him a suspicious look. Did she notice anything going on? Draco hoped not.

Draco caught up with Pansy in front of the Great Hall, hidden behind a suit of armour. He gave her a thumbs-up, before shutting up and focusing his attention on the approaching squad.

They sneaked to the door as the four went inside and listened closely.

“How many days you got left until yer Holidays?” Hagrid was saying.

“Just one,” Granger answered simply. “And that reminds me—“ Now the two hidden Slytherins were all ear. “—Harry, Ron, we’ve got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Weasley’s voice answered.

“The library?” Hagrid again. “Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren’t yeh?” Draco almost snorted at that.

“Oh, we’re not working,” Potter said, excitement dripping from his voice, filling Draco as well. “Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we’ve been trying to find out who he is.”

There were a few moments of silence, before Hagrid spoke up again. “You what?” Unlike Potter’s, his voice was filled with shock. “Listen here — I’ve told yeh — drop it. It’s nothin’ to you what that dog’s guardin’.”

In his voice, Draco knew he was trying to convince them, but Draco, and probably Pansy, knew it was pointless. Let alone when Granger, in her sweetest, most innocent sounding voice, said, “We just want to know who Nicholas Flamel is, that’s all.”

“Unless you’d like to tell us and save us the trouble?” Potter added, hopefully, although hopeless sounding. “We must’ve been through hundreds of books already and we can’t find him anywhere — just give us a hint — I know I’ve read his name somewhere.” The thoughtfulness and sureness in his voice was all Draco needed to turn around and gesture to Pansy to follow him to the Slytherin Dormitories.

They only had around half an hour to work, before they’d be announced missing for lunch. They hurried and were in front of the wall in minutes. Saying the password, they continued inside and hurried up to Draco’s dormitory.

There, Draco threw himself on his bed, Pansy seating opposite him; he took out the book and notebook and started going through his notes.

At last, he triumphed, finding the part about the Chocolate Frog Card. He gave Pansy a small nod before starting to read the card out loud, “Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and his work on alchemy with partner, Nicholas Flamel.”

He stopped there, having enough information. He looked back up to Pansy to find she’d been attentively listening and scrabbling things down on a spare piece of parchment. She, too, looked up as he halted.

“So,” she started hesitantly, “how are we going to ask our parents about it without sounding suspicious?”

Draco grimaced. “Yeah,” he agreed, “Just asking them won’t do the trick...” He looked down in thoughts until Pansy spoke up again.

“Didn’t you once say you were interested in studying alchemy?”

Draco’s head shot up. “Yeah, I am... Maybe I can just ask them about some of the better alchemists and their inventions?”

Pansy smiled. “That’s a nice idea. Don’t forget it, all right?” She added the last part jokingly, receiving a soft hit from Draco.

“Of course not, you prat,” he responded just as joking. “We better get going, it’s nearing the end of lunchtime.”

—————

“We’re here,” Pansy announced, making Draco look up from the book he was reading. He looked out the window and noticed the train slowing down. They had reached King’s Cross. “Don’t forget to ask them,” Pansy whispered as they left their compartment.

Draco, grinning slightly at the though of their plan, answered, “Same for you,” before stepping down onto the platform. Pansy gave him a short hug before walking off with her mother.

“Draco!” Draco heard his mother’s voice call him and he turned around to look at her, smiling.

That smile vanished as he saw his father walking up behind her. Merlin, no... Draco thought. Father saw Pansy hugging me...

Lucius indeed didn’t look too happy. “Who was that, son?” he asked sternly, ignoring his wife’s disagreeing look.

“Pansy Parkinson,” Draco answered, just as sternly. Act like a Malfoy, he reminded himself. “Slytherin first year, Pure-blood.” He made sure to spit her blood status with enough pride. His father still looked at him disapprovingly, while his mother smiled sweetly.

“I’m glad you’re making friends, darling,” she said, before urging him to follow her a small distance from his father. She lowered her voice as she said, “There isn’t anything going on with you and her, right?”

Draco felt slightly taken aback, but hid his shocked expression and shook his head. “Of course not, mother, I wouldn’t jump into anything without your and father’s approval,” he stated highly, knowing extra reassurance was always handy in situations like these.

Narcissa smiled softly. “Good,” she breathed, calling her husband over. Together, the three of them made their way outside the station, into a deserted alleyway, and Apparated home.

On the way back to London, Draco hadn’t been exactly reading, though, he had been thinking, thinking about Potter and Christmas. Lying on his bed a few minutes later, he knew he shouldn’t think about him during the holidays, but he couldn’t keep his mind off of him. Besides, his main task at home was asking his parents about this Nicholas Flamel.

Now, on the subject of Christmas, he had gotten an incredulous idea, and his mind was actually trying to convince him to go through with it. You know, maybe it wasn’t his mind... since his mind was still thinking logically... but what was giving him these thoughts, then? Draco only knew of one thing in his body that could ever have a will of its own; his mind. So he was rather lost about the reason why he wanted to send Potter something to do with Gryffindor House. Though he supposed it wouldn’t hurt.

He just had to remember to ask his parents if he could go to Diagon Alley tomorrow. He could just say it was for a Christmas present and not mention who it was for. Then again, would it be a smart idea? He’d have to send it anonymously, and he didn’t know if the book would like that.

Draco’s eyes shot open as he stared at the light blue painted ceiling of his room. He suddenly realised he had no idea if the book would punish him for not following it. He sighed heavily, tried acting like a Gryffindor and find the bravery to go down and ask his parents either way, but quickly decided Gryffindor really wasn’t anything for him. Good, old Slytherin was where it’s at.

In the end, he did decide to go through with his original plan, but just waited until he was called down for dinner.

Downstairs, he took his seat at the long dining table. The dining room was beautifully decorated. The walls were painted white, decorated with golden linings. The ceiling was painted golden, and a crystal chandelier hung over the middle of the mahogany table. Ten-ish mahogany chairs were placed at each side of the table, one more at each head. It really was a beautiful scene, and those entering the Manor for the first time, would think the whole Manor was as paradisal as this room.

Sadly, Draco didn’t have that opinion about the Manor since he knew what was hidden beneath it. Miles and miles of dungeon-like paths lined with cells, every now and than a torture room breaking the pattern. Rough walls, blood splatters, green, ominous lighting... For those who knew, being inside the Manor, let alone as a guest, was like waiting for the minister of magic to sentence you years in Azkaban. This was why Draco had never liked staying inside, and how he’d started practising Quidditch in his free time.

“Mother, father,” he greeted, giving each of the individuals a nod.

“Draco,” Lucius nodded back, usual familiar smirk in place. He was wearing plain black work robes, though silver lines were stitched in the design and the Malfoy crest was embroidered on his chest. “Tell us, how was your first term at Hogwarts?” Draco, knowing his father, caught onto the slight disgust at the word ‘Hogwarts’. He understood his father still mustn’t be on board with his wife’s choice to send him there. She had argued that it would be safer for him, because it was nearer to home. Draco had wholeheartedly agreed, though he’d never told his father about that.

Draco smiled softly, just the right amount for a Malfoy. “It was fine. The school was a bit confusing at first, what everything with a will is, but getting used to it didn’t take all that long.” His father nodded, smirking proudly at his son. “I’m Slytherin, naturally,” he added highly.

“There is just this one thing about Harry Potter being in my year.”

Both Narcissa and Lucius hastily hid their shocked expressions, but Draco saw it flicker across their faces and nodded definitely.

“He’s Gryffindor,” he continued. His parents looked approvingly at the loathsome tone Draco had used for the name.

“Then, it wasn’t that bad, right?” his mother asked, not afraid to show the slight worry in her voice. Her robes were a light green, with the same silver lining and crest embroidered. Green, silver and black were the Malfoy family colours. Draco smiled softly again, and nodded.

“Son,” Lucius started sternly, pulling his attention from his mother. “If I find out there’s something going on between you and that Pansy Parkinson...” he threatened slowly, and knew Draco understood what he meant so stopped there.

Draco nodded slowly. He took a deep breath before sharing a glance with his mother, knowing he had the best of luck with her. “I was wondering if I could go to Diagon and Nockturn Alley tomorrow, since I forgot to get someone a present for Christmas.” He kept his voice steady, not showing hesitance or doubt.

Lucius did look doubtful, though. “And for who might that present be?” he asked slowly, and Draco felt like he was being x-rayed by the look his father was giving him.

“I don’t think he wants us to know, Lucius,” Narcissa cut in, giving her husband a disapproving look. “It must be someone from school, isn’t it, darling?” she asked, turning to Draco. Draco, feeling slightly taken aback, nodded stiffly. “Of course you can go,” she said, smiling. The rest of dinner was relatively silent, only a couple words of small talk every now and then.

That night, Draco slept peacefully, the book on his bedside table. He had reread the first chapter, and planned on rereading what was already written this holiday.

—————

#drarry #harry potter #harry x draco #draco malfoy #hp #fanfiction #romance #adventure #rewrite #retelling #multichap #destinia: first year at hogwarts

0 notes

deliverydefresas · 7 years

Text

come over and start up a conversation with just me

So... I could swear I did queue this for earlier today yet I can’t see it nowhere??? Can anyone confirm I’m not crazy???

As I said before (maybe) I had one of the shittiest weeks ever but at least I managed to do something with this. Yay me.

ps. when I said this was an AU, I really meant AU. Also: this is still a mess but I still hope you like it. here’s part 1 in case you missed it/can’t remember what’s about lol

That’s all, ily.

Stares.

She could feel them from all over the place; some heavy and lingering and some flittering, quick ones. Was there something on her face? On her clothes? Had she mismatched her outfit? Ámbar frowned before looking down at her white shirt and blue skirt, checking to see if everything was in order, but nothing was out of place. She wasn’t going crazy, she knew that. They were definitely, shamelessly, staring at her.

She huffed, glaring and rolling her eyes at everyone who was looking on her way to one of few the tables available; her mom had borrowed her car that morning without notice, leaving her to take public transportation to the faculty, which made her arguably late for her first class (she was ten minutes early for her teacher to arrive, but she was late to grab one the best seats in the room) and annoyed with the world.

She tried distracting herself by pulling out her cellphone to check the Fab and Chic’s comment’s page; Delfi and Jazmín’s interviews with Simón and his band had been posted the night before, making the blog explode with views, likes and comments. Ámbar had to admit she was not expecting those results; she had barely heard about the guys before she met Delfi and Jazmín in their Digital Communication class last year, their constant humming to the RB’s latest single was all she could hear when they studied for an exam, and it was so catchy even her mom became a fan that day.

She, however, never really saw the appeal. Sure, 2/3 of them were good looking, and they weren’t talentless, but there was nothing about their music that made them stand out for her then. Even after seeing them two nights ago, she still couldn’t fully comprehend it but she’d be lying if she didn’t say there was something about their guitarist that made her curiosity peak.

“What are you wearing?” Gastón’s voice sounded from her right, making her turn around quickly, tearing her glance away from her phone. He had a funny look on his face, his mouth forming a funny ‘o’, his eyes glued to her head.

“Clothes,” was her obvious reply. She arched her brows, daring him to clarify his point.

He took a couple of seconds to respond, - “no, no, no. I mean, what’s with the beanie?” he pointed to her head, where the black beanie she had decided to wear this morning was currently on. She knew she could’ve easily put it in her purse and keep it there until she saw Simón later that day, but she had tried it on after getting dressed and her judgment told her it looked cute enough to wear it for the day. So, she did.

“What do you mean?” Ámbar tried her best to sound as nonchalant as she could, even if her brain was sending warning signals all over her mind, which was very ridiculous, honestly, since there was no way Gastón or anyone for that matter, could relate it back to Simón since only Delfi and Jazmín appeared in the video the latter posted (Jazmín had been very careful not to mention her in any way, shape or form, still bitter about her 1 on 1 with her favorite band member).

“It’s spring, Ámbar.”

Ah, so that was what the stares were about.

“So?” she shrugged.

She wasn’t as strict with fashion as Jazmín was, which was why she barely posted on the Fab & Chic after their A was granted last year; and even then, she didn’t give it the same attention as her casual friends did, since the class had been an optative one for the Law student that she was, instead of a required one for their Communication career.

Gastón’s voice was disbelieving, “so you wear warm hats in a warm weather, now?”

“Oh, I’m sorry mister I-wear-Leatherman-jackets-in-summer, I didn’t know it was illegal to wear warm clothing after winter. Are you going to call the police on me?” her tone was sweet, yet coated with sarcasm. Gastón raised his arms in mocked surrender.

“Point taken.” Ámbar rolled her eyes, but made no further comment. The teacher was to arrive any time soon, and she didn’t want him to give her any negative attention; the old man would surely put her on the spot at a point in the class, most likely to answer a question only he knew the answer to; he was that kind of asshole. Her stupid friend didn’t get the memo, because just as their teacher was walking in, he decided the blurt the most incriminating words one could say in a classroom. “Let me copy your homework?”

Professor Asshole’s glare was enough to make her groan in frustration.

It was going to be a long day.

Lunch couldn’t have come soon enough.

Professor Asshole not only embarrassed Gastón and her in class, but refused to grade her homework too. She protested -quite loudly, actually- and it got her another essay due before the end of the week, as if the four she had already for Thursday wasn’t enough. By the end of the reprimand, she was ready to kill Périda the next time she saw him; the idiot was smart enough to flee as soon as the teacher dismissed them.

Her next class wasn’t as bad; however, her mood had been ruined already and couldn’t pass as quickly as she hoped it would. By now she was hungry as well as pissed, and in need of a cup of coffee and a sandwich to at least calm one of her burdens.

“Well, don’t you look dandy, my love.” Her best friend greeted her as soon a she stepped in front of their table, smiling sarcastically when she responded with a scowl.

“I’m in no mood for that shit, Em.”

“I can see that. Are you even going to tell me, or should I ask my crystal ball?” Emilia arched her left brow, sipping her cup as soon as she asked her question. Ámbar flipped her off.

“Mom took my car this morning, I had to take the stupid bus and was late for my first period, Gastón was a dick on Roman’s Law class and got me an extra essay for Friday. Happy?”

Her friend nodded, “I am, actually, because my day has been fantastic, thank you for asking. Yours, however, sounds shitty as fuck.”

Ámbar rolled her eyes, “don’t remind me, I still have IPL to go through; but whatever, I’ll survive. What about you? Didn’t you have a test today?”

“I did, and I totally murdered it. Wanna go with me and Benny to celebrate after class? He brought his car today, we can pick you up and drop you off, too.”

“Can’t. I have a thing to do for Fab & Chic after class.” Ámbar took a bite off her sandwich, ignoring when Emilia almost choked on her bagel.

“You’re kidding, right?” Ámbar shook her head, “you already accompanied them to that stupid bar on Saturday, what more do those pink princesses need from you?”

“They? Nothing. This is all me.”

Emilia scoffed, “stop talking on riddles, A, what are you planning?”

She took a sip of her coffee, “you know how we met that pop band at the bar and Delfi and Jazmín interviewed them, posted the video last night?” Emilia nodded, “well, I met the guitarist and got him to agree to give me an interview today. I’m meeting him after class at the same bar.”

“Why?”

Ámbar could tell her friend was confused. Truth be told, so was she. Journalism was nowhere near her ambitions -or dreams-, but something deep within her thought it was a good idea. She always followed her instinct, and most of the time (if not all, as they have never failed her) she was right, so this wouldn’t (couldn’t) be an exception. She was more than confident that this would benefit her somehow.

Who knew, maybe this would be what could finally put Fab and Chic (and consequently Delfi and Jazmín) up there in the spotlight of Journalism.

“Publicity, attention. This could benefit me in the future, y’know.”

“Your future isn’t in Journalism, though.” Emilia pointed out, arching her left eyebrow again.

Ámbar shrugged it off, “my name would still be out there.”

“If you say so. Well, are they giving you a ride?”

“Who?”

“Jazmín and Delfi, duh.”

She sipped on her coffee, “they don’t know anything about it. I told you, this is all me.”

Emilia’s face was disbelieving, “so you’re meeting this guy, alone?! What the fuck, Ámbar?”

“The guy is a softie, Emilia. Honestly, I don’t think he’d hurt a fly, he seemed very… I don’t know, weak?”

“As do most serial killers, Smith.” Emilia rolled her eyes, not yet convinced that it was a good idea. Ámbar waved her off with her hand.

“I’ll text you if it makes you feel better.”

Her best friend huffed, “fine. Now, why in the fuck are you wearing a beanie?”

If she hadn’t been pissed before, she certainly was now.

Not only was he 20 minutes late, but the stupid bar that had taken her one full hour to get to was closed. Had the idiot had really dare to trick her? Who the hell was he anyway? A stupid, barely talented guitarist and singer from an even stupider, not even that famous wannabe boyband. He couldn’t have stood her up. She was Ámbar Smith, not once in her 21 years had she been stood up in a date- appointment before. And she wouldn’t allow it; if she had to search for his stupid ass all over the city and drag him to make sure he kept his word, she would.

That insensitive, stupid, good for nothing of an idiot. The nerve of-

“I’m here! I’m here! I’m so so so so so so so sorry I’m late!” the idiot wheezed out as soon as he was near, almost knocking into her when he stopped running, “Nico forgot to do the laundry, so I had to do it myself since my clean t-shirts were -1 and then Pedro kind of made the microwave explode when he put a metal spoon with his popcorn, not sure how that even happened to be honest and then-”

“I don’t care! Do you know how frustrating it was to endure one freaking hour in public transportation to be here in time and then wait half an hour more to wait for his majesty to arrive?! And for what? The stupid bar is even closed!” She was fuming, gesturing wildly to the building.

“Well, what did you expect? It’s 16:30, bars aren’t usually opened until 18, the earliest.” His words only infuriated her more.

“Then why are we here?!”

“It’s middle ground for both, and there’s this really good Mexican coffee shop around the corner I really like.” He shrugged her anger off, and Ámbar swore she was surpassing a level of anger she had never felt before.

“I was wrong, you’re a dick dressed in virginity.”

He blinked a couple times, not quite getting it. “What?”

She huffed, “nothing, whatever. Where’s this coffee shop you’re talking about?”

Simón looked at her for moment, but ultimately shrugged again and motioned for her to follow him. The coffee shop was around the corner, not really hidden but not in the spotlight as it was the bar; but it was pretty. It wasn’t stereotypically decorated as some of the Mexican restaurants she’d been before, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was Mexican-influenced. It gave her the vibe she’s get when she visited Emilia’s or that one time her dad took her to Cozumel for winter vacations when she was 17. The big Mexican flag behind the bar was a clear telling, too.

“What do you want? It’s on me, don’t worry.” Simón asked once they found a booth in the farthest corner from the door. She wasn’t sure if it was conceited or smart of him to do so, but he was paying and, y’know, doing her this favor so she couldn’t really complain. Not that it’s ever stopped her before.

“What’s good? What are you having?”

“Everything, really. I’m ordering the largest hot chocolate and a couple of conchas, though.”

She scrunched up her nose, “a couple of what?”

He laughed, “it’s a type of sweet bread, and it’s delicious. I could give you a taste of mine, if you want.” He offered, but Ámbar shook her head in negative. It really didn’t sound appetizing to her.

“Is Mexican coffee any good? I’m more of a coffee-type of girl.” Again, he shrugged. Either it was some kind of habit, or he really wanted to push her buttons, because it was annoying her to no end at this point.

“Mom loves café de olla, that’s all I know about it, to be honest. Coffee and I don’t get along.”

Ámbar frowned, unsure if she should really order it. She was super picky about food in general, and his unconvinced ass wasn’t any reassuring. “I’ll have a medium of those, then.”

He nodded, “do you want anything to eat? You can ask for anything, remember I’m paying.” Simón joked, shaking the wallet he held in his hand slightly. Ámbar scanned the menu written on one of the near walls, searching for something that could be safe to try.

“Tres leches cake, please.”

Simón saluted her, and went to the bar to order. It appeared he was somewhat of a regular, or that the boy behind the counter was a fan; because he greeted him all excited and not all dead like sometimes baristas did. She sighed, and decided to text Emilia and her mom that she was with him already, adding to her mom that she would probably not be hungry for dinner, and to cook just for herself. If she ended up hungry afterwards she’d make herself a soup or something. Instant ramen could do the trick.

Before she knew it, he was back with their drinks, the barista behind him helping with their desserts, saving him the double trip. Simón thanked him once everything was set on the table, tipping him extra five dollars before he took a seat in front of her.

He smiled at her once the boy was gone, “so, how was your day?”

“Shitty. How was yours?”

“Ouch, I’m really sorry I was late, seriously. It wasn’t intentional, I swear.” He apologized profusely, she just sipped her coffee. And damn it, it was delicious. “My day was mostly unproductive, except maybe for the laundry part. But I slept like a baby until noon and then had to save the apartment from Pedro’s unusual cooking disasters, so could’ve been better.”

She sighed, “it’s okay, it’s just that I hate taking the bus and then this asshole put me in trouble with a teacher and now I have double the work in that class due on Friday.”

“Double the ouch. Don’t you have a car, or couldn’t you take a cab?”

Ámbar arched her eyebrows, “my uni is forty minutes away, a cab would have charged me a fortune. I do have a car, but my mom took it this morning, so I had to take the bus.”

“I’m sorry, again,” he cringed, “I can give you a ride home after we’re finished here, I can’t send you home alone.”

She thought about it for a minute, before nodding. A ride sounded much better than losing over $20 for a cab or the bus. Plus, free things were always nice.

“We should start, then. I have a paper to start for past-tomorrow and I’m sure whoever cares about you won’t want you coming super late.”

“Alright, but I do have a few rules.” He parted one of his conchas, before dunking it in his hot chocolate and biting it, “nothing about relationships and all the questions are a game.”

“Hiding a girl, are you?” she inquired, sipping once more on her coffee. Simón winked at her.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Fair enough.” She nodded. “What’s the game about, though?”

He took another bite of his bread before answering, “you have to guess the answer to each question, and I’ll confirm or deny. If you guess right, you can ask another question and this time I’ll have to answer.”

“Are you kidding me? What kind of game is this?” she huffed, angrily taking a bite of her cake. She was almost too mad to not notice its deliciousness. Almost.

“One you have to play with me since I’m helping you and feeding you, for free.” Simón arched his eyebrow, she merely shrugged. It’s not like she was forcing him to pay, he was the one to offer it, anyway; “and plus, it’s gonna be more fun for both. I know it.”

“Fine, let’s do it.” Ámbar sighed. His smirk kind of gave her the creeps, “what?”

“Don’t you want to know what happens if you’re wrong?”

She looked at him dubiously, “you’re not going to ask me to do anything illegal, are you?”

Simón laughed, “no. You just have to answer the question you ask, and I get to ask one that you have to answer.”

“But you won’t answer it correctly?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.” He shrugged, “you can start now.”

Ámbar sighed, and took out her phone to start a voice recording, because she was too lazy to film it or write it all down in paper. She was going to keep it easy on him, to give herself time to think of some-what-safe questions.

She had to give it to him; he wasn’t stupid at all. This little game of him would make it practically impossible for her to guess correctly on deep questions, ultimately turning them on her. The guy wasn’t dumb at all.

“I don’t like you anymore, just so you know.”

“Ah, so you liked me before?” She almost rolls her eyes.

“Your favorite color is blue?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Would you say fame is what you expected?”

“You won’t hold back, will you?” she guessed it was rhetorical, so she didn’t say anything. “It wasn’t. There’s many shades to fame that I never thought existed, that’s all I’m telling you for now.”

Her curiosity was dying to ask what he meant by that, but chose not to dive into it yet. She didn’t think he’d answer, anyway.

“You’re a dog person?”

“Another yes. You know me so well!” he joked, finishing the last piece of his first concha; sipping his hot chocolate afterwards.

“What can I say? I’m a great guesser.” Ámbar was very thankful she’d googled him before coming, “does it bother you when people put you in a category just because of how you’re positioned in the industry?”

“I loathed it. There’s more of me than what I choose the media to see, more than what I let other people around me see.” Simón frowned, his hold on the bread getting too tie and crumbles of the shell (she guessed that’s why they were called conchas) falling down on his cup, “but I’ve thicken my skin, and now I mostly shrug it off.”

“Uh, your best friends are your band?”

He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief; “not quite.”

“What? But goo-” she almost slips it out, “then who?”

“Nope, you don’t get to question me, it’s my turn now.” He teased, shaking his head, “have you always wanted to study journalism?”

She cocked her brow, “I’m not studying journalism.” He seemed to be thrown off by this, and his face was so funny she almost laughs in it. “I’m a law student. A junior, actually.”

“Then why- what?” Ámbar shook her head.

“Nah-uh. My turn. You own a dog?”

“Nope, mom does.” He looked smug, now. “Why did you want to interview me if this has nothing to do with your career?”

Ámbar sighed, annoyed with herself for trusting a stupid google interview. Either they were lying, or Simón was twisting the truth. Whatever it was, she wasn’t happy at all.

“The Fab & Chic was a project I had with Jazmín and Delfi last year, it was an optative class and we had to create a blog to practice our writing, photography, programming and editing skills. I didn’t help that much back then, and they were cool with it, since it wasn’t a main priority for me or my career. I guess this interview is a way for me to pay them back. And, well, it might help me get some recognition later, if it does what I’m expecting it to be.”

“Which is?”

“Don’t you know the rules to your own game?” she snapped at him, making him frown and match her own.

“The game is off, now we ask whatever we want as long as it the other is willing to answer. Now, what are you expecting to happen?”

“It’s my turn.”

Simón shrugged, “so?”

“You’re infuriating.”

“On the contrary, I’m told I’m a very lovable person.”

“By who? Your mother?”

“And my grandmother. And my friends. And my fans, which are at least a million.”

“Well they’re lying to you.”

Simón leaned over the table, and got close enough so that she could see a small acne scar above his eyebrow. Such closeness made her a little uncomfortable, but couldn’t really move. Instead, her eyes were hooked to his.

“I guess you’ll have to find out.”

#soy luna #simbar #simón álvarez #ámbar smith #my sl ff #my simbar ff #soy luna au #i cant remember all i tagged before but no this is not proofread #sofy

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potterlivesrp · 6 years

Text

sample application.

Below you will find my sample application for Seamus Finnegan (FC: Thomas Doherty)! Thank you for your patience as I got this all together. I do want to make the strong point that the freeform section is absolutely up to you. I mean it when I say you can do whatever you want! I have elected to write a bunch of headcanons because that works for my personal character building process; if you want to do something different, please do! Good luck to everyone who is applying, and if there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to let me know.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/alias: Honey

Age (18+): Twenty three

Preferred pronouns: She/her

Timezone: GMT+11

Life responsibilities: 8/10. In addition to being the admin, I am also a newly minted PhD student (yikes!). Between all the chaos that entails, I am actually quite good at time management, so I am here for the long run! If ever I need to duck away for a few days, I will make a post on the main and the OOC blog just to keep everyone updated.

OUT OF CHARACTER - Q&A

Answer the questions in the application here! No, I won’t give away the answers.

IN CHARACTER - BASICS

Full name: Seamus James Finnegan

Age and date of birth: Twenty years old (December 10th, 1980)

Zodiac sign: Sagittarius

Gryffindors born under this sign are exuberant and full of good humour. They are intelligent, but often do not make the best of students, because they would rather be outside enjoying the fresh air or off studying on their own. They aren’t good at diplomatic silence; if a teacher makes a mistake, the Gryffindor Sag will draw attention to it right away, usually loudly and in front of the entire class. At length. These students can get into trouble - their hot tempers make for easy dueling matches, and their impish senses of humour inspire a great many practical jokes. Still, they rarely mean anything malicious. They’re too jovial to harbour malice. These Gryffindors are likeable extraverts, on good terms with practically everybody, and they generally do all right in the end. Many excellent Quidditch players come from this sign. (Source)

Ex-Hogwarts house: Gryffindor

Gender identity: Cisgender male

Sexual orientation: Homosexual panromantic

Faceclaim: Thomas Doherty (if I were an applicant, I would put three FCs here in order of preference!)

IN CHARACTER - IN DEPTH

PERSONALITY TRAITS

POSITIVE: Generous, curious, idealistic, humorous, energetic, adventuresome, enthusiastic, brave, optimistic, confident, flirtatious.

NEGATIVE: Inconsistent, impatient, upfront, brash, undiplomatic, tactless, disorganized, careless, superficial, gullible.

HEADCANONS

Although he would loudly object otherwise, Seamus is a bit of a country bumpkin. His father was a muggle farmer when he met his mother, who was a field officer for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The way they met was hardly romantic: she was there to investigate an outbreak of grindylows; he was about to call the council about the strange creatures infesting the water supply for his flock of sheep. But in a twist that is now legendary, Mary didn’t tell James about her magic until after they were married. This was hilarious to a young Seamus, who never tired of teasing his parents about their mutual deception. “Didn’t she give anything away?” Seamus would demand, laughing, and his father would grin, “Aye, I did wonder why a woman so beautiful would look my way.” Theirs was a happy home, one full of good humor and light-hearted conversation. Both of Seamus’ parents were Irish: national pride was not so much an aspect of Seamus’ upbringing as a permanent feature. Endlessly curious, Seamus would pour over old family photographs, nose nearly pressed to the unmoving faces of his father’s side, fingers tracing the crinkling smiles of his mother’s ancestors. In many ways Mary and James had parallel families, despite being magical and muggle respectively. They had seen famine and hardship, cruelty and poverty. The Finnegans were working stock, all calloused hands and sun-browned skin. Seamus burst with pride when he thought of his family’s blood and sweat that had seeped into the green fields of An Neidín.

Even in the middle of a war, Seamus knows he will return to Kenmare. His childhood was spent helping out on the farm, flying brooms with his cousin Fergus, and playing tricks on the local muggles. None of this was ever in ill-humor, for Seamus has an especially warm approach to all people. At school it wasn’t uncommon for him to apologize profusely if one of his jokes went a little too far (once he’d stopped laughing fit to burst, of course). One of the most important things in life, he reckons, is laughter. Laughter and good conversation. Indeed, Seamus could talk the hind leg off a donkey. When he was a child, Seamus would often ride his bike into the local muggle village on an errand of some kind – the newspaper for his Da, a bottle of ale for supper – and be found some hours later, engrossed in discussion with the shopkeeper over any manner of topics: animals, weather, farming. Seamus has an open, approachable manner that attracts him to farm-hands, milkmen, beleaguered Ministry workers, bartenders. With a vast and rambling mind, he manages to pick up snippets of information that, although often untrue or exaggerated, do mean he can contribute to essentially any topic in some respect. The degree to which his contribution is useful or even heeded, however, is up for debate.

Seamus has no clue what he wants to do after the war. Survival is his priority, as is anyone’s, in his opinion. For some years, however, he and his cousin Fergus have discussed opening up a whiskey distillery. This idea often surfaces after they have had a few too many whiskeys themselves, although Seamus would be remiss to say he isn’t seriously interested in the idea. He likes to imagine himself as the salesmen, the face of the company, while Fergus can do all the hard work. Fergus, needless to say, refutes this distribution of labor, and usually remarks that of the two of them, anyone would be more willing to look at Fergus’ pretty face than deal with Seamus and all his freckles. These conversations then regress into a tussle, which Seamus rarely wins. Fergus is a slippery little fucker.

The Finnegans are a small clan, and so Fergus is Seamus’ closest and only cousin. His senior by five years, it was Fergus who introduced Seamus to the first of most things. They attended the Quidditch World Cup together (where Seamus got catastrophically drunk – at fourteen, no less – under Fergus’ careful “supervision”); they often met in Diagon Alley for a pint and a game of chess together (Fergus always loses, mainly because he is easily distracted by the barmaid); and they flew brooms together. The last is among Seamus’ most treasured memories. Fergus would say he wanted to be a famous Quidditch player when he grew up. “I’m destined for greatness,” he insisted seriously, “haven’t ye seen me skills? Lad, you’ll be beggin’ for me autograph one o’ these days, just you wait.” Fergus did in fact make the reserve team of the Kenmare Kestrels a couple of years ago. Professional Quidditch, it turns out, is more about training and hoping you stick out enough to be picked for a game than it is about fame and glory. Now that the war has struck, Fergus has returned to Kenmare to stay with Seamus’ mother and father. The Regime has little need for sports at the moment, particularly when they’re too busy murdering muggles. If Seamus writes to anyone, it’s to Fergus, and damn Hermione’s rules about owling out too often. Fergus is his one link to home: without him, how would Seamus know about the new calf, or his mother’s redundancy from the Ministry, or his father staying up late, night after night, smoking his pipe and gazing into the fire? War means more than battles; it means leaving your family behind and hoping beyond hope that they’re missing you less than you miss them. For Seamus, who is so connected to his blood, the Resistance can be a form of torture.

Seamus dresses in muggle clothes more often than not. His parents had a relaxed attitude towards presentation, with his mother foregoing wizarding robes in favor of floral dresses or comfortable slacks, and his father usually slogging through the back door in enormous green wellies, a tweed flat cap crammed over his greying hair. Seamus is all muggle black Levi jeans, tight t-shirts of bands he’s never heard of, flannel overshirts, and a denim jacket littered with magical badges. He’s often found lounging on a sofa, trainer laces trailing, t-shirt rucked up his freckled stomach, a Quidditch magazine glued to his nose. Seamus has perfected the art of claiming a sofa to oneself (this also extends to beds, brick walls, and queues outside clubs). The trick, he reckons, is in looking utterly bored and somewhat post-coital, with half-mast eyes and a ready smirk, should anyone catch his eye. Seamus does have an air of sensuality about him -- and he can be an incorrigible flirt. “I can’t help being a sex god, can I?” he’s asked rhetorically on more than one occasion. In reality, Seamus is less sex god and more sex menace. At school he was often complaining about the regularity of his shags, the quality thereof, and the attractiveness of his partners. Being a part of the Resistance has had the effect of dampening his sex drive, but only slightly. Instead, Seamus channels his frustration into dueling. Blue balls is a very effective battle tactic.

Seamus is actually remarkably ordinary when it comes to magic. He is fair at transfiguration, good at charms, and reasonable at hexes. But it’s his patronus charm that is remarkable without exception. Seamus’ corporeal patronus – and it is always corporeal, make no doubt about that – is a fox. At first he demurred when it was suggested he teach others in the Resistance how to cast a patronus charm. “I’m not that good,” he said uncomfortably, “can’t ye get someone else t’do it?” Seamus isn’t a very good teacher when it comes down to it. He is easily distracted and often goes off on tangents, preferring instead to fall into conversation than to actually direct his student’s magic. This is a shame, because Seamus does have a gift, and it’s certainly lucky that this falls into one of the most difficult areas of magic there is.

His place in the Resistance is unquestioned. Seamus couldn’t bear to be at home, twiddling his thumbs, hoping that someone else was going to save them all from His reign of terror. Part of the reason why he joined the Order for a hot minute was simply all that energy. Seamus, for all his humor and chatterbox nature, is a doer. He needs to be in the fray, to feel useful. The Finnegans never got anywhere without getting their hands dirty, after all, and hard work is something Seamus is used to. His father certainly didn’t allow his only son to lollygag about the farm when there were cows to milk or agricultural fairs to attend. Much of Seamus’ early memories take place in the passenger seat of his father’s truck, bumping along endless green fields, heading towards some distant destination, their border collie panting and bouncing over Seamus’ shoulder. The problem with the Order was that he felt peripheral. Seamus will never kid himself: he knows he’s not a leader. He doesn’t have the charisma, for one, or the attention span. Although he’s definitely gifted at boosting morale and connecting with people, he far prefers a secondary role than being right at the front (this doesn’t stop him soundly criticizing anyone he believes is slacking off, of course). In the Resistance at least there is the feeling that they are working towards something. The Order was all cloaks and daggers: now Seamus is engaged in the gritty everyday of the Resistance’s existence. Someone has to scout out new camping spots, to figure out when they should attack that Death Eater hot zone, to teach people how to cast a patronus. Seamus is happy right in the middle of the action. He needs to feel valued.

For Seamus, the war sounds like late-night laughter, hushed in the blue dark, from people sitting around a bonfire. It’s the smell of a forest at dawn, of the rain-washed clean of another nameless British moor, the cold rush of ocean air whipping over dunes. Unmade beds, dish-washing duty, the organized cacophony of group breakfast. It feels like trudging along another country track, his boots sticking in the mud, Dean bumping into his side as their readjust the straps of their backpacks. The war sounds like the music that thumped out of a muggle club that one time in London; the way it pounded into the close summer air and tangled in Hermione’s sweat-damp hair. It’s that time he and Ron found themselves stuck in an abandoned warehouse for hours, watching a Death Eater do Merlin knew what across the way, until finally she apparated at four in the morning and left them sore, tired, and stupid, snapping at everyone when they arrived back at headquarters before collapsing asleep in bed for twelve hours. It’s the red bruise forming between his fingers from where he holds his wand. The war mainly feels like one anticlimax after another, but it mainly feels like holding a cup of tea on a frosty morning in Devon, sitting outside the flap of the tent and watching the light turn from dust to silver to gold. It feels the way that Dean makes him feel: short of breath, nervous, thrilled with their proximity.

For all his positive qualities, Seamus is a flawed individual. He finds it easy to identity the alleged weak spots of other people and does not hesitate in pointing them out, often loudly at at length, with little regard for other people’s feelings. He can also be quite brusque and even dismissive, believing that he has already considered the consequences and someone else’s opinion is merely a beat too late. In addition to this, his brash nature can cause him to be sloppy, clumsy, and heedless of consequence. Taking responsibility for his actions is something he struggles with constantly. There is a reason Seamus is not put on the trickier missions, when a careful hand and a steady eye are the only ways they can succeed. He is far better in the thick of it, with his spirit burning bright, his spells shooting through the dark like jets of flame. He lacks the finesse that a true spy requires; he does, however, have the mettle of a freedom fighter, and that is his redeeming feature.

One of Seamus’ biggest problems is his ability to jump to conclusions. It’s not an uncommon occurrence for Seamus to forego any logical explanation and simply choose whichever answer is the most salacious, extraordinary, or unbelievable. And somewhere, in the crowded, bright places in his mind, these tales take on a life of their own. At school it meant he was especially susceptible to gossip. More recently, his doubt in Harry Potter exemplifies this. Seamus would never discriminate based on blood status, and that is not the reason he feels uncertain around the prophecy of Potter being the Chosen One. No, he has a problem with the fact that Harry essentially knows nothing about how to fulfill this supposed prophecy. Although a halfblood himself, Seamus did essentially have a magical childhood. His mother imbued their home with magic in all of its ordinary glory: floating teapots, evergreen flowers on the sill, self-refreshing laundry. Seamus is used to the lovely everyday of magic and the wonder it can inspire in even the most mundane of chores. Even his father, in his sentimental moments (which are frequent; the Finnegans are an emotional lot and prone to heated monologues) expresses how strange and empty his old life feels without the touch of his wife’s wand. So how can someone who has never known the poisoned touch of You-Know-Who, who never grew up with stories about his reign of terror -- how can someone like that be expected to save someone like him? Even Seamus’ mother had a rough time during the first war; Seamus has seen her scars. You-Know-Who might have taken everything from Harry -- and that angers Seamus on Harry’s behalf -- but he also doesn’t know about the grim reality of Dark magic. What a word without Light is really like. And that, to Seamus, is difficult to reconcile.

EXTRAS

Seamus’ blog can be found here!

Here is a Pinterest board for him.

This is also where I would link to two writing samples if I were an applicant! They do not have to be IC.

#hp rp #golden trio rp #harry potter rp #literate rp #seamus finnegan #sample application

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chimchiminiekookie · 7 years

Text

Colorless | 01

Summary: The world is split in two, there are the colorless, and then there are the gifted, as in gifted with the sight of colors. Apparently, once you find your soulmate, when you really accept him or her, or when you finally realize that it's true love, the colorless are supposed to be able to see color.

Genre: Soulmate!AU

Member: Namjoon x reader

Word Count: 2,770

Author’s Note: Hey guys, so I’m a bit upset right now. I planned on having a new Between Worlds chapter out a couple of nights ago, and I was super sure that I put it in my queue, but nothing. It never uploaded and it’s nowhere to be found and I wrote the chapter on my brother’s laptop which he apparently deleted so now I’m stuck with absolutely nothing, I have to start chapter four COMPLETELY from scratch. I dunno, and I felt really bad and sad and just overall disappointed so I thought of making a short oneshot soulmate series for all the members, but please be patient because honestly, I have a hard time writing for other members, so I’ll be making them in order from who I have the hardest time writing about to the easiest . huhuhu sorry, but I’m gonna work on maybe Jin’s or J-Hope’s after I get at least 4 pages done on my 40 page term paper in Labor Economics, LOL school first. BTW, has anyone ever noticed how blessed Namjoon was by puberty?

“Namjoon was just the new student assistant at the library, so why does he keep giving you books on flowers?”

You sat in class staring out the window watching the class next door playing PE. They ran around as mud splashed their clothes disgusted by the brown mess they were making. You looked at the girl sitting next you you who sighed dreamily at your teacher.

You poked her shoulder, "Yah, are you actually attracted to him?" You looked at the teacher who you admit was handsome, he had platinum blonde hair, how he got away with it was beyond you, and he looked a few years older than you, he just was not someone who was worth getting in trouble over.

The girl next to you quickly regains her composure and clears her throat, "he's kind of nice isn't he? He tells really funny jokes." She giggles probably remembering one of them.

And you think back on those jokes, and no, they really weren't funny, cheesy maybe or perfect for someone like your father. The sound of the school bells catches your attention and has you jumping up to stand before the teacher could even dismiss you. You grab your bag and start making your way out the door, giving a playful salute to Mr. Kim on your way out.

"Thanks for that lesson on Julius Caesar Mr. Kim! I guess you could say he wanted to rule over Rome TOGA-ther with Cleopatra!" You heard the girl behind you make a joke that instantly brought Mr. Kim's laugh; something that may have sounded forced but was not, it really sounded like a windshield wiper.

You took your time walking through the corridor, having to wait after school for your mom to pick you up, turning corners you had memorized from spending so many days there after school, and then you stop in front of two large doors, the library.

You walk in without hesitation and a huge grin on your face with squinted eyes, "Hey Mrs. Lee! I hope you don't mind, not like you've minded before but I'll be staying here agai-" you settled your elbows on the librarians table counter and put your head in your hands only to come face to face with a blonde haired, blank faced boy who stared right back at you, blinking slowly.

You stared at him, seeing the grey outline around his iris, he was a colorless, you shake your head, "Sorry, uh, I thought it was just Mrs. Lee today. I shouldn't be any trouble; I only stay for an hour or two, three max."

He blinks a few more times at you, simply looking away and waving you off, "It's fine, my name is Kim Namjoon, and before you ask, no I'm not related to Mr. Kim, I just transferred here."

You start walking away, "You'll like it here." You find the familiar seat right next to the large Non-Fiction collection and you grab a random book, getting started on the first chapter.

The atmosphere was slightly awkward, seeing as all Namjoon did the first hour was stand around the librarian's table, you looked around and realized he still had a lot of books he needed to get sorted and if he stayed there the whole time, he would stay here until night time.

"Hey." You instantly catch his attention, "I don't know if you know this or not, but Mrs. Lee usually organizes the book since almost nobody comes in here."

"But what if someone comes in?"

You laugh out loud suddenly at his comment earning a confused look from Namjoon, "I'm not being rude or anything, but I swear, almost nobody ever comes here. And if anybody does, they'll ring the little bell on the table." He looked at you unsure, "If you're really that worried, I could even help you and call you when somebody does come in." You give him a wink.

He doesn't answer but simply walks away from the table, pushing one of many book carts along with him. He doesn't say much, but you come to realize that he must not be too strict when you find him rapping along to a song while organized the books, and that's how the rest of the time is spent; listening to Namjoon rap while pretending to read.

The days following that week, he wasn't there, but come Wednesday after that week, you come face to face with him once again. Except, this time, he had a yellow book clutched tightly in his hand.

"Wow, alone once again. Mrs. Lee must trust you with her precious books." You laugh.

"Here." He slides the book your way.

You stare at the book in confusion, "I wasn't reading this though."

"I know." He steps away from the table and continues on with organizing the books.

You slowly take your seat and look around finding he was too far to see what you were doing, so you opened the book and found that it was a book on Acacias, that and Namjoon had already stamped a return date on it, for next Thursday. You tilted your head and swayed it from left to right, trying to figure out what Namjoon was doing. So instead of reading like you had planned, you spent the entire time watching Namjoon, while unknown to you, he smiled slyly to himself. You realize that day that Namjoon was really tall. Two months pass by with that routine of yours, Namjoon hands you a book he borrowed in your name, and you sit around pretending to read while secretly watching him.

The following week, on Tuesday, you don't forget the book he borrowed in your name, you didn't exactly read it, but you did keep it tucked away in your backpack, not letting anyone see it or get it dirty.

You walk in the library straight to the librarian's table with the book tightly clutched in your arms. "Hi Namjoon, I wanted to ask why you gave this to me- oh, another one? Okay." You're caught off guard when he shoves another book in your arms after grabbing the yellow book he'd given you from last week, today; you notice his dimples while he smiled at your confused face.

You looked down at the book; the cover was red with gold lettering on the front, "A History on Tulips?" You looked at Namjoon unsurely, "Let me guess, I'll be returning it next week?"

The following week, Namjoon wasn't there, instead, it was Mrs. Lee, who greeted you with a dark red book with the word CARNATIONS on the front, "He asked me to give you this, because he has tutoring today." She smiled kindly at you.

You smiled back and you turned, only to turn back around and look at her, "Sorry, but do you know which room he's in?"

She looked at you for a second and rummaged through her table pulling out what looked like a post-it, she squinted as she tried to read the messy handwriting, "I believe this says 227"

"Thanks Mrs. Lee!" You give her a wave and you start running, scanning the room number you pass by on the second floor.

When you get to 227, you're panting and your feet are throbbing from running so much but that doesn't stop you from scanning the students sitting on the chairs, you furrow your eyebrows when you realize Namjoon isn't there, but instead, it's filled with a bunch of fourth years, you spot Yoongi dozing off and Hoseok sticking notes on Yoongi's back. You take a deep breath, realizing Namjoon's probably just running late and hold the doorknob, when you find the courage to open the door; everyone's already looking at you.

You bow quickly and state loudly, "I was hoping to get some advanced lessons!"

The room is dead quiet but a single voice has you opening your mouth like a fish, "Okay, just take whatever seat, the topic today is thermodynamics."

Apparently, contrary to what you believed, Namjoon wasn't taking tutoring classes, he was giving them, and that's how you found yourself sitting in a three hour session staring at Kim Namjoon as he talked about what he called laws of Thermodynamics. When the class was over, you got up stretching only to be patted on the shoulder by Yoongi.

"Don't get yourself into situations you can't get yourself out of kid." He chuckled.

You instantly blushed at Yoongi, who was ever the observant one, "So, what are you doing in a senior tutoring class?" You heard the smile in his voice.

"I just- I was going to- I wanted to ask you about late return fees because I might not be here to return these next week." You quickly make up an excuse, why did you come here?

"Well it's the same fees that are posted up on the front door; you must've seen it before right?" He laughed, "Is your mom pocking you up again?"

You look up at him and shake your head completely at loss for words.

"Great, let's go, I'll walk you home." He grabbed your bag and books, taking a second to look at the book he'd borrowed for you with a smile.

The walk home wasn't awkward, but it wasn't one filled with conversation either. You stared at your bag, the one filled with books and the one currently being carried by one Kim Namjoon.

"I can carry that, it's kind of heav-"

"Exactly, it is heavy, so I mist imagine you've been carrying it all day. I can do it." He slapped your hand away lightly.

"I didn't know you were a senior." You looked up at him, "I-I mean you have the height of one but seniors don't really help out at the library, since they have more things to worry about than overdue library books."

He chuckled and stared at the ground, "I'm not." He looked over at you, "I'm a junior just like you."

He kept staring which had you turning red and looking away, "So why are you tutoring a bunch of seniors on thermodynamics?"

"And Trigonometry and basic Calculus." He stated in a matter of factly voice.

"What?"

"I'm tutoring seniors in Thermodynamics, Trigonometry and basic Calculus." He corrected.

"Oh, you must be pretty smart then." You try to make small talk, "Your eyes. I mean, if it's not a sensitive topic, you're colorless right?"

He looks at you quietly and blinking his eyes, "It's not and I am."

"How is it? I read a few books on it, but it's probably not as detailed coming from someone who's actually explaining it."

He started to walk slowly, "It's kind of dull actually. You wake up to grey and you go to sleep to grey and every time you see someone you find yourself attracted to, it's like you're just wishing for color to explode right before your eyes. But it doesn't and that's just soul wrenching." He looks at your worried face, "But I've come to find life has gotten tremendously brighter lately."

"This is my stop." You smile at him, "Thanks for walking me home."

He scratches the back of his head, "Thanks for letting me." He lets out a nervous laugh and hands you your bag and books, "Be sure to bring that on Monday next week." He points at the book.

"Will do. Bye Namjoon." You stare at his retreating figure, which to your surprise, hasn't turned back around to walk the right way, he continues waving until he hits the mailbox and completely topples over it quickly standing back up and running back from where you had just come from.

You realize that day that Namjoon was practically a genius and he was clumsy, but in a cute way, definitely cute.

Monday the following week rolls around but you find yourself sick, so you lay in bed all day texting your classmates for the homework, they said they'd bring it over, but it's already past 7 and they're lack of presence has you doubting on whether they even remembered.

"Aren't you just the handsomest thing!?" You hear your mother's shrill voice coo at an unknown person making you sit up.

"Honey! I'm opening the door!" She calls out and all you do is cough in response.

You expected to find Changkyun, or maybe even Hanbin if she called him handsome, but to your surprise, it was Namjoon, carrying all the books he’d borrowed in your name the past few months and a stack of papers, which was probably your homework.

"Hi." You stared at him with wide eyes.

"I dropped by your class to pick up your homework since I heard from Mr. Kim that you were out sick, and I even brought a few books for you to read." He said sheepishly.

"I'll leave you two alone." Your mother squealed at you two giving you a wink that had your face heating up despite the chills you were currently experiencing.

"Thanks for the homework." You laugh, "I thought my classmates forgot about me."

He settles on the chair near you study table after placing the books near your bed, "I saw them on my way to see you so I just insisted that I'd take it to you instead." He fiddles with the rubics cube on the desk.

"I already borrowed a bunch of these books."

He quickly stands up and looks at the books, "Here. You haven't borrowed this one." He hands you the deep red cover with the title, "Roses, the flowers of love"

"Thanks." You look at the books, "You know I haven't actually read any of these right?" You laugh.

"Yeah, so you better get started, they're all due next week." He hands you another book, "Here, this might help you understand why I've been giving you books." You looked at the cover and realize it's a book on Flowers and their meaning.

You furrow your eyebrows but still smile shyly at him, "Why do you borrow books for me? Especially since you know I don't read them."

He slowly looks up at you, "Well I know you don't read them, but I at least expected you to skim them." He laughs, "But you didn't so that's why I came here with all these books.

He goes to the first one, and opens it up, "Yellow Acacias mean concealed love." He takes out a flattened yellow acacia, handing it to you. You blindly take it staring at him in utter shock.

He takes the second book, the one on tulips and takes out the tulip with the corresponding color, and so on with the rest.

"And finally." He takes the book on roses and opens it taking out the deep red rose flattened by the pages, "A red Rose means passionate love. The most cliché and utterly cheesy flower that there is." He looks at your shocked face and laughs, "Here, go ahead that take this." He hands you the rose.

By this time, your hands were filled with a bouquet of flattened flowers of all different colors and kind with only one meaning.

Love

"H-h-how?" You find the voice the speak, but it's only a whimper of a question.

"When I saw you that day in the library when I first started there, it was as if all this color exploded right before my eyes, and then I realized, it was you." You continued to stare dumbfounded at him, "Your hair was a mess probably from running your hands over it so many times, your eyes were bright as if you were somewhere far away in that library, and even though most people would say you looked like a mess that day, to me you looked absolutely beautiful, especially because your eyes glowed a little brown instead of the usual black I saw and your lips were red from biting them so much, and all that there was, was you." He sat on the bed near your feet.

"I don't know how I lasted so long without you." He whispered before he leaned in and kissed you.

Even though you could see all these colors, when he kissed you, it's like everything exploded all over, as if you finally understood everything Namjoon had been telling you for weeks.

You rested you forehead on his and smiled, "I love you too, Namjoon."

“I’m pretty sure you can get a special student assistant extension on these books’ due dates.” He joked.

Come the following week, you couldn't exactly put your classmates in their places when they started teasing you about Namjoon, especially when he picked you up from class to take you to the library, all you could do was take his hand and be led to the very room you first fell in love, you couldn’t exactly complain, and even if you could, you didn’t want to.

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jising-jisang-jisung · 5 years

Text

Waiting Game | Lee Jeno

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: wow I used a lot off lil faces in here for no reason other than self amusement so sorry¿? also hi I might have accidentally fallen in love with Jeno while writing this uwu his smile

Genre: floof ofc

Is it even possible that you liked the same boy for 11 years? You met Jeno in kindergarten and immediately fell for him. When you two were kids, you'd always tease each other and talk. "Ladies first." "oh then go ahead, Jeno." But as you two grew up, you both became too shy and quiet to talk to one another. 乁║ ˙ 益 ˙ ║ㄏ

Nevertheless, you liked the boy and you reckoned somehow you always would. Any time you imagined your future, he was there. If you were picturing your wedding, he was the groom. Your kids: had his eyes and hair. Future house: idk but he'd be there. You get the point. Jeno was always on your mind and you were worried that you might never get over him.

Now, half way through your junior year, you realize that you dont have much time left before you'll both move off to college and never see each other again *sad uwu*. So what do you do? You find his social media! How you two don't follow each other already, I dont know. A little while after he follows you back you send a meme. He sends one back, cute right? But then next day when you see him, you two act the same: borderline ignoring one another.

Frustrated at everything, mainly yourself, you decide to just risk it to get the biscuit. The next morning, you check your phone to see yet another meme from Jeno. Instead of sending one back you send:

Roses are red

You're pretty cute

Do you want to be my date to prom uwu?

And homeboy frickin responds to you with that:

Violets are blue

You're pretty cute too

I'd love to go to prom with you uwu

And you were like asdfjkan I did that on a whim and what?!?!? Queue your heart: bOom boOm!! -`ღ´- But now you are super anxious because you have barely had adequate conversations with this boy and now you are going to prom together. Little did you know that Jeno was also panicking.

So basically you have already gotten a dress at this point and are trying to track homeboy down to show him for color coordination purposes and not just because you want to talk to him. You finally find Jeno during lunch and show him pics of your dress and ask what he planned on wearing. You turn to face him and he just kinda (❁´◡`❁)... you wave your hand in front of his face a few times and he returns back to Earth. "Oh right sorry- uh you look nice. I'll just find a tie that will match" he says as his face turns hues of red. As you walk away you heard the rest of the boys laughing at Jeno's table, oblivious to the teasing comments about Jeno being in loooove with you.

Now at least you have an excuse to talk to Jeno which is cool because it leads to more conversations and meme sharing. One day in class you sent him some funny post and he looked up at you and smiled and your heart!! just!! boOm!! bOom!! -`ღ´- You would die for his eye smile holy crap. You absentmindedly smile back and now you two are just looking at each other and smiling like idiots for a few minutes <(▰˘◡˘▰)> . That is until the teacher calls your name.

"I'm sorry, what?" "I asked if what you got for number 7. Please pay attention y/n." "Yes, sorry." And you glanced back to Jeno to see that he was no longer looking at you but he did still have that stupid smile on his face. "24.9" "correct." You could feel your face blushing brightly just as Jeno's had before.

The day of prom finally came and to say you were really frickin anxious would be an understatement. The dance started at 7, so you were meeting Jeno at 5 to get pictures and dinner beforehand. You had hoped that when he came to pick you up you two would just leave. Of course, your parents had other plans, taking a millioooon pictures of you two together. After 1395820 years you finally head out to dinner with a few of your mutual friends and their dates.

Around a large table sat you, Jeno, and 8 others. You knew Jaemin, Renjun, and Donghyuck who were also in your class in addition to being Jeno's best friends, but you didnt know the last boy, Chenle. Apparently, he was a year younger than you, but you think it may be a bit more than one year. Coincidentally, their dates were some of your friends: let's call them Ryn why not we got a good thing going here, Elle, Sarah, and Rosie. After 2 hours of mindless staring, blushing, laughing, and eating a bunch of food, it was actually time for prom!

You entered the venue that was decorated to look like an enchanted forest, but to you it looked like Barbie Swan Lake. but whatevs. For the majority of the dance, you all had danced together in a large group, occasionally taking breaks for water and to cool down. But this time Jeno and you had decided to take a break while the others continued to bust a move. (´▽｀)ノ♪

"Tonight has been really fun so far, y/n, thank you for asking me to prom. I would've asked you but I didn't have the balls to do it." Not knowing what to say, you looked at him kinda like (。♡‿♡。) and without even realizing your actions, you left a smol smooch on his already tinted cheeks before grabbing his hand as you make your way back to the group.

It was nearing the end of the dance and, to your luck, the DJ put on a slow song. Before you could even open your mouth to speak, Jeno already had his hands around your waist, slowly drifting back and forth. Once again, he had the darned smile on his face that made you melt. You wrapped your arms around his neck in return and began to move as well. This got a lot of winks and hollers from your friends. You glared at Elle when you noticed she was filming everything. Pretty soon they started dancing too, leaving you and Jeno to yourselves.

You two had always been semi-awkward when you locked eyes for minutes on end, but it felt different now. The awkwardness and lack of talking was killing you. You tried to initiate conversation in hopes of eliminating some of the tension. "So-" but you were immediately cut off by Jeno's lips crashing abruptly against yours. You looked at him with your eyes wide from shock (⊙＿⊙) . "No need to talk" he replied, leaning in again. You closed your eyes and kissed him back.

Before you knew it, the song was over along with prom and students were leaving in crowds. You said bye to your friends before getting in Jeno's car for him to drive you home. At least, you thought he was taking you back to your house until you realized that he was in fact not doing that. "Um, this isnt the way to my house." "oh I know." "so where are we going?" "You'll see." You pouted (╯︵╰) wanting to know what was going on. When Jeno saw this he did what Jeno would do and pecked your lips again. "Dont worry y/n." And truthfully you couldn't worry. You really couldn't think at all. *swoons* (◕﹏◕✿)

He pulled up to a wendy's drive thru and began to order some food. "What would you like y/n?" After getting the bag of food he parked his car and began to munch eat his fries. After consuming the total of your meals and the fries that were in the bottom of the bag you were both just kinda :|. So you decided you might as well just kinda sorta maybe makeout with Jeno. And thus, that is what you did. His lips were really soft and tasted a little salty from all the fries, but you didnt mind.

You continued to smoochy smoochy makeout with Jeno for who knows how long when your phone vibrated, signaling a message from your mother. "She wants to know when I'll be home." "I suppose I should probably take you home now. It's getting late."

As he pulled up in your driveway and you thanked him for driving you, he grabbed your hand to stop you from getting out of his car. "Hey so, uh, about tonight- so are we-" he trailed off, not knowing how to finish his sentence properly without sounding like a doofus. "Jeno, would you like to be my boyfriend?" "YES! I mean, yeah sure that's cool." With that same dumb smile on your faces, you pressed your lips to his once more before heading into your house. When your mom asked you how it went, all you could do was smile. Even if it took 11 years to realize just how much you both liked each other, it was well worth the wait.

#nct #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno nct #nct jeno #nct fluff #jeno fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno #nct dream fluff #lee jeno fluff #nct dream imagines

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ibelily · 7 years

Text

The Horsemen

I don’t even know what this is, but it’s been in my head so it needs to get out ! I might make it a multi-chaptered thing, with a chapter for each side if y’all like that idea. Also I’m tagging @demerite, @lana--22 and @taki-random because you all sencouraged me to write this so it’s really all your fault ... <3

Highschool AU, OC’s Point Of View

Pairing: none

TW: mentions of suicide, of death, of physical fights (i think that’s it, pls tell me if i missed something)

Length: 2.1k yeaaaah buddy

Also, i apologise if I got any of the biblical references wrong, Wiki was my main ressource

Urgh, I hate firsts. Firsts are always awkward, and ultimately disappointing. At top of the list is definitely the first day of school, especially when your first day happens to be in the middle of the school year. I had just managed to figure out how my locker worked and had turned to walk to my class when I was pulled out of the way just before being bulldozed by a mammoth of a teenager, who walked past as if nothing had even happened.

I turned to my savior to see someone even shorter than myself, wearing a baggy yellow hoodie and black skinny jeans, with white Converse. They had short, bright red hair that clashed beautifully with their hoodie, and a simple grey backpack was slung casually over one shoulder.

“Sorry about that” they said, letting go of my sleeve. “You were about to get trampled”

“Yeah I noticed” I said as I dusted myself off.

“Haven’t seen you around. You new?” They asked.

“Yeah, first day.”

”That’ll explain it. You’re lucky Famine didn’t flatten you. Usually everyone gets out of his way quickly so he wouldn’t have stopped.”

“Yeah I was worried there for a sec- Hang on did you just say Famine?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a long story. Tell you what, I’ll tell you at lunch, every newbie deserves to know the story.” They stuck out a hand for me to shake, smiling widely. I took it in mine and gave my best firm handshake, surprised at the upfront friendliness.

“I’m Chris, by the way” they said just as the bell rang “... and I’m late for AP History. Meet you here at noon? We’ll go get lunch” I nodded dumbly as they took off in the direction of their classroom. Not bad I thought, I’ve already made a friend. I shrugged my backpack further up onto my shoulder and went to find my own class.

*****

Midday soon came around, and I found myself in the cafeteria with Chris, looking at a surprisingly good school lunch.

“They’re called the Horsemen” Chris started without preamble as we put down our trays and sat in the hard plastic seats.

“The horsemen?” I repeated.

“Named after the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

“Oh. I’m not a christian, I’ve never heard that story before” I explained.

“Well in the New Testament, in the Book of Revelation, there’s a chapter that talks about a scroll that is sealed with seven seals. The Lamb of God -which is just another name for Jesus- opens four of the seals which brings down the Horsemen, the harbingers of the Apocalypse and of the Judgement Day.”

“Sounds morbid” I joke.

“Well, that’s the Bible for you” They chuckled. We chatted for a while about other things: where I was before, how I was liking the town so far, the usual mundane things. I found I really liked Chris, they had an uplifting personality and I quickly felt relaxed around them, something that didn’t happen often for me.

“Here they come” Chris announced, and I felt the room grow quieter as the door swung open. In walked a gang of five men -they definitely weren’t boys- who ambled their way over to the line to get some food, talking quietly amongst themselves. The other people in the queue tensed at the new additions, but carried on with whatever they were doing. The men didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t seem to care of their intimidating presence.

“That first one is Conquest.” Chris pointed at the first man, beginning their explanation “His real name is Roman, but no one calls him that anymore. He is what is commonly referred to as a man-whore. He’ll have sex with anything with a heartbeat. No ties, obviously. It’s just ‘Wham, Bam, thank you whoever’.”

I watched as Roman collected his food. He wore a white and red t-shirt, very form-fitting jeans and stylish sneakers. His hair was impeccably quiffed, and there was no denying his good looks. He shot a charming smirk at the lady serving him, and she turned bright red and giggled.

“He looks good, but I don't see how he’s so terrible” I defended.

“There's just something about him. Everyone knows how he operates and yet people fall under his charm and they're goners. They fall in love with him, and he knows it. He uses them for whatever he wants: information, tasks he doesn’t want to do, you name it. Once he's slept with someone, they become one of The Conquered. Half the school has been conquered by him so far, students and teachers alike.”

“Have you been... Conquered?” I asked tentatively. They chuckled in response.

“No, we asexuals are immune to his powers, a fact that annoys him greatly”

Conquest sat down at an empty table, casually ignoring all the loving eyes that followed him across the room. I turned back to the line as Chris continued.

“The next one is War. Real name: Logan. Don’t be fooled by the shirt and tie, he’s definitely the scariest of the four.”

Looking at Logan, I found that hard to believe. He was the very definition of ‘White & Nerdy’. He wore thick rimmed glasses, a crisp black shirt with every button done up, a bright blue tie fastened securely around his neck, and pressed trousers with smart black lace-ups. He had a neutral expression on his face, almost like a robot.

“How could he possibly be scary?” I asked incredulously. As I spoke, a freshman who wasn’t looking ahead of him walked straight into the man they called War. War turned his head rigidly to stare at the younger boy, who stuttered out a faint apology before running away, tripping over his own feet. War stared at the retreating figure, then returned to what he was previously doing, choosing his dessert.

“War has anger issues. He seems all monotonous, but don’t cross him, whatever you do. He will destroy you, quite literally. The last guy who pissed him off ended up in hospital for 2 months.”

“What did he do to anger him?” I gawked.

“No one knows. The stories go from having sex with his sister to tripping him up accidentally in the hallway. He’s also very protective of the others, so crossing them is crossing him.” Chris shuddered slightly and I found myself doing the same. The more I looked at War, the more he creeped me out; He was so robotic in his actions, his face devoid of all emotion. He joined Conquest at the table, sitting down mechanically opposite him.

“I suppose you’re already acquainted with Famine.” Chris joked, and I turned my head back to where Famine was filling his plate with everything in front of him.

“The name’s kind of ironic; He’s on the wrestling team so he eats a lot.” In contrast with the others, Famine seemed massive. Although he was of similar height, he was at least twice as wide. His blue shirt strained against his biceps and upper back as he leaned forward to grab even more food for his piled up plate. Everything about him was big.

“He doesn’t say much, but when he does speak you listen. If he tells you to do something, you do it. He’s got this authoritative tone in his voice that makes you feel like you have to obey. I reckon it’s the whole being a father thing” Chris shrugged.

“He’s a father?! He’s still in highschool!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, he’s got two kids. Twins. Not many people know about them though. I only found out because I overheard a conversation between the four of them a while back. They’ve taken to calling him ‘Dad’ as a joke. His real name is Patton I think, but like all the others his name isn’t really used anymore”

As Famine sat down with the others, his plastic seat squeaked as he put all his weight on it. Without saying a word the other two gave him things off their plates to add to his mountain of food, Conquest holding out the kiwi in his hand with a disgusted look on his face.

Then the man that I assumed was the fourth Horseman stepped up to pay. He was slightly shorter and skinnier than the others, wearing a large black hoodie with black jeans and black sneakers. As he turned his head I noticed large purple bags underneath his eyes; It looked like he never slept.

“Who is he then?” I asked curiously.

“That’s Death.”

“Death?”

“Yup. I don’t know his real name, in fact I don’t think anyone does. He doesn’t like it so he makes the teachers and everyone call him either Death, and sometimes Anxiety.”

“That’s…weird”

“He gets called Anx most of the time anyway. He’s probably the least intimidating of the four, he’s actually quite nice, if a bit quiet. I had Art class with him last semester and we actually got on pretty well.” They explained. I watched as he took a seat with the others, jumping in and joining in on the conversation already taking place between them. He made a quick remark at Conquest, making Famine guffaw loudly and put his arm around his shoulders, ruffling his hair. Looking at them interact, it was hard to imagine that any of them could be as horrid as Chris made them out to be.

“So why is he a Horseman?”

“Because of his reputation. There’s apparently a curse on him that means that anyone who gets close to him dies”

My eyes widened and I whipped my head around to stare at Chris.

“Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately. His parents died in a car accident when he was young, and he didn’t have any living relatives so he got shuffled around the care system for years. Apparently most of his foster parents died not long after taking him in, and others just dumped him back in the system. When he first came here he made friends with a girl. Her name was Emmy. She committed suicide three months later.”

“Oh my God, that’s heartbreaking.” I took another glance at him, and he had retreated slightly from the group, eating his lunch in silence.

“Anx sort of shut himself away after that, refusing to talk to anyone, not that he did much talking to begin with. It wasn’t until the gang decided to take him under their collective wings that he started to talk again. Now he’s the one that calms them down when they go a bit too overboard.”

I got a perfect example of that as a small commotion erupted from their table, making everyone’s heads turn to watch. War was standing up and leaning over the table, staring down angrily at Famine, who was staring back just as menacingly. I don’t know what had happened, but War’s face was getting increasingly red, and a vein had popped up on his forehead. Calmly, Anxiety got up and placed a gentle hand on Logan’s shoulder. The other snapped out of his staring contest to look at Anxiety. No words were exchanged, but Logan nodded at Anxiety and the pair sat back down. War extended a hand out to Famine who slapped his own against it, then they bumped fits and carried on the conversation they’d previously been having. For his part, Conquest hadn’t flinched at the interaction, he’d carried on eating his burrito as if it were a common occurrence. The whole scenario was bizarre, to say the least.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I turned back to the food line and remembered the fifth member of the group. He’d also paused at the interaction, but he’d quickly turned back to pick out his food.

“So who’s the fifth one? I thought there were only four horsemen” I asked.

“There are. That’s Thomas. He’s sort of like their ringleader. He’s the worst one of all”

I took a moment to watch him, and was surprised when he smiled and thanked the server for his food before picking up his tray and making his way to the table.

“He looks nice enough to me”

“Everyone thinks that at first. But you’ll learn, eventually. He’s like all four of the other rolled into one deceivingly sweet package.”

“So what do you call him then, if he’s not a Horseman?”

“What do you think? Who sent the Horsemen in the first place?”

I look at Chris blankly, confused. They lean in towards me, lowering their voice to a whisper. I leant in also, feeling the tension build in the air.

“He’s God, who else?”

#A sandersides fic #Anxiety sanders #roman sanders #Prince sanders #logan sanders #logic sanders #morality sanders #patton sanders #what even is this fic #i have no idea

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