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blackwell-tales · 2 years

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SOURCE | Prologue

Tales of the Blackwell Gang | BOOK 0

“The Code of the West was a gentleman’s agreement... It was never written... but it was respected everywhere on the range. ” – Ramon F. Adams.

---

When you're a child, you're told plenty of stories of good versus evil, the bad guys and the good guys, black and white. The world has never been so evenly split. It's full of many types of stories and people of all different colors and shades. Never before has there been a more colorful time than that of the Wild West in the early years of Northern America.

States were undiscovered by the spreading colonials and their organized law had little power in those parts. What few developments were established were terrorized - or even run - by outlaw gangs. When the law needed to find an outlaw, they'd call upon the vagabonds and outcasts of society known simply as Bounty Hunters to do their bidding. But since Bounty Hunters were nearly always outlaws themselves... society could never be sure if some of the worst criminals would ever be taken in.

Many outlaws wanted one thing and one thing only: glory. To see their names printed in the bolded font of newspaper headlines and to see fear in the eyes of all who they come across. Some outlaws, however, were merely society’s rejects who wanted to live their lives without rules. Most did not get that luxury without plenty of fights.

- 1865 ○ Montana Wilderness -

Through the scope of a rifle, notorious gang leader Raymond De la Fuente watched a bounty of his own. He held a bounty poster in his inner coat pocket that read: TOMMY BLACKWELL, WANTED FOR SEVERAL COUNTS OF MURDER, THEFT, EVASION OF THE LAW, AND DISTURBING THE PUBLIC. The law wanted him dead for a thousand dollars... but alive? They'd pay two.

Tommy appeared to be on a hunt of his own. He had a rifle trained on a gang of what seemed to be four other outlaws. Curiosity forced Raymond to take pause. Instead of shooting his bounty, he watched.

Tommy Blackwell was like a hawk swooping down on scattered and confused rabbits, and Raymond seemed to understand something in that moment. Why make two-thousand dollars now when he could make far more if this man were a part of his gang? The amount of money a seasoned bounty hunter could make in a month was quite a lot, and his camp sorely needed it.

“Tommy Blackwell, I presume?” Raymond called out to the man, his boots crunching on the fallen leaves beneath him, his hands held up, palms out; and his rifle slung over his shoulder. “The name's Raymond De la Fuente. I gotta proposition fer ya' if you'll hear me out?”

“I ain't interested,” Tommy responded, spinning around to train his rifle on the stranger. “I'm gonna take a guess an' say you've been huntin' me. Y'know my name an’ y'seemed t'find me all the ways out here. Yer poster wantin' me dead or alive?”

A hearty chuckle rolled out of Raymond's throat. “Observant, Mr. Blackwell. That's a good trait to have out here. 'Specially when yer a hunter.” Raymond moved slowly, showing Tommy that he wasn't trying anything nefarious as he reached into the inner pocket of his coat. He produced the wrinkled piece of parchment with Tommy's police sketch on it. “I was huntin' you but...I changed my mind after I saw what you could do.”

Tommy didn't seem to be buying what Raymond was offering. He shuffled the grip on his rifle, pulling back the bolt. A shell casing was sent flying as another popped into its chamber.

“I just thought,” Raymond said, pushing his explanation, “Why should I ruin such good skill by handin' it over t'the pigs at the station,” Raymond took the sheet between both of his fingers and slowly tore it in two, “when those skills could be put t'use in a gang... my gang, specifically? Don't gotta worry 'bout no bounty hunters when yer surrounded by a bunch of outlaws!”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at Raymond. He still didn't trust the man, but the fact that he tore the bounty up made him ease the tension in his body a little more. Finally, after a long moment, he discharged the bullet in his rifle's chamber and cautiously slung the rifle over his shoulder. He tilted his head up some, lifting the brim of his hat to eye Raymond up and down.

“I ain't need protection from yer gang,” he said, but he couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that it might be nice to have somewhere to go at the end of a long hunt. Somewhere with faces he recognized. It had been many, many years since Tommy Blackwell had known that feeling. “What's in it for me?” he finally asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“For you?” Raymond repeated back to him, finally lowering his hands, “A canvas roof over yer head, free meals, free horse and medical care... a cut'a any job I send you on...” Raymond eyed the man up and down briefly, a slick smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Y'look like you like yerself a good drink...we got plenty of that, too.”

To his credit, Tommy was quiet for a long moment. The man had been a lone wolf for so many years, the idea of settling in a gang was not something he was eager to do. He chuckled, looking off to the side as he shook his head, like the whole thing was some sort of joke. When Raymond mentioned a cut of jobs, though, that seemed to pique Tommy's interest a little more. Tommy mulled the idea over in his head quite a bit before finally sauntering toward Raymond. “Alright, If y'need a marksman that bad, I can work with ya.” Tommy held his hand out for Raymond to take. Ray reached out for it but was blocked when Tommy pulled his hand back. A scowl fell over the bounty hunter's face, “Let's just keep one thing clear, De la Fuente, y'ain't ever gonna own me. Y'understand?”

The two men held eye contact for a long moment. Tommy finally offered his hand again. Raymond gripped it with a strong, firm shake and smiled at the other man. “Loud an' clear, Mr. Blackwell,” Raymond responded. “I ain't own nobody. Just know, I do expect you t'work fer yer meals. This ain't a charity I'm runnin'. Y'ever been a'part of'a gang?”

“... Once,” Tommy responded.

“Well, at least y'got experience,” Raymond replied. “Welcome to the De la Fuente's, Mr. Blackwell.”

-1869 ○ Montana-

“That was some fine shooting, Miss...?” ”Crounse, Priscilla Crounse, mister.” ”Hmm... I think I've heard that name before...” ”Don't think too hard about it.”

Raymond De la Fuente snapped the reigns of his horse, Jasper, and glanced back at the red head riding on his saddle. She was objectively pretty: A sharp jawline, stormy blue eyes that could only be described as vixenlike, and freckles that speckled her pale skin. Most notably, though, her hair was long and bright red, pulled over one shoulder in a fishtail braid.

Raymond had just found Miss Priscilla Crounse running for her life from a group of men on horseback. Where her horse was couldn't be determined. He had decided at the last minute to help a poor woman out, but the moment she was on his saddle, he realized that she wasn't so poor after all.

Priscilla had spun around in Raymond's saddle and set her rifle to her shoulder before firing three rhythmic shots into each of her pursuers heads. It was impressive, and Raymond had to wonder just who this Priscilla Crounse was.

“Who're you?” Priscilla asked, her eyes focused behind them for a moment before turning back to properly speak to him.

“Raymond De la Fuente. Where y'headed?” he responded, glancing back at her briefly.

“De la Fuente..?” She echoed his name.

She had seen it on bounty boards all over Montana. Notorious gang leader, Raymond De la Fuente. Wanted, Dead or Alive, for nearly $8,000. Everyone in the bounty and law business knew the name. The De la Fuente Gang had become a nuisance to Helena, Montana, as it was one of the largest gangs in the state. Raymond was no saint.

Priscilla considered this quietly for a moment, weighing her options, before wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a sultry little smile. “Where ever you are, sweetie~!”

Raymond hadn't been looking for a new gang member that day, but he couldn't pass up the skill he had seen from her, not to mention her brazen confidence. “I suppose I could use another marksman,” he said, especially considering the number of lazy members he seemed to have taken in, recently. “Lord knows we need someone willin' t'work.”

“Always ready t'earn my keep, Mr. Ray!” she replied.

---

The De la Fuente camp was nestled against the mountains northeast of Helena. One side of the camp was shrouded by trees, the rear was protected by the base of a mountain, and there was a small creek only one hundred feet east that slithered between two crags. Helena was part of what the De la Fuente gang claimed as their territory, and while the law was constantly on the lookout to take down Raymond, it didn't stop the gang from terrorizing the poor town.

The De la Fuente camp was filled with a melting pot of many people but was run by a small team: Raymond, the gang leader; Shepard Bauer, Raymond's right hand and best friend; Josephine Schoell, the camp manager; and Oliver Lockton, the head doctor.

There were a handful of members who were highly regarded by camp management. Niko Tau was a close friend of Raymond's and one of the men Ray used as a workhorse. Kate was a young thing at only 15 years old. She was eager to prove her worth and eager to be taken seriously, which few people did. and then there was Tommy Blackwell, the resident lone wolf, and sharpshooter. He and Raymond didn't always see eye to eye, but Tommy was a strong worker.

The rest of the camp was a small village of tents that were filled with people who wanted to work, needed a safe place from the law, or were just general wanderers. Raymond had a knack for taking in outcasts.

Upon arriving at camp, Raymond introduced Priscilla to Josephine and Shepard and promised her that a tent would be set up for her by tomorrow. In the meantime, Raymond gestured for her to follow so that she could meet Tommy Blackwell, who she would be working with frequently, according to Ray.

“Tommy's a bit of a bastard,” Raymond glanced back at his new member and smirked at her, “but y'seem t'handle yerself just fine.”

At the very edge of camp, near a lone tree amidst a clearing between, was a tent where Tommy Blackwell was leaning against the tentrance support pole, smoking a cigarette. Tommy was a gruff individual with little sense of style. Warm neutrals and dirt were his everyday attire, and he liked it like that.

Despite his lack of care toward his appearance, he was handsome nonetheless. His jaw was squared and dusted with stubble. Wood-brown, mid-length wavy hair framed his face, as did his sideburns. His skin was tan and sun-kissed from many days on the open road. It only served to compliment his dark eyes that seemed to regard the rest of camp with a sneer.

As Raymond and Priscilla made their way toward his tent, those dark eyes turned their attention to the redhead beside Raymond. His eyes sparked with interest as he took her in. They traveled up and down the length of her torso and he tilted his head to the side a little as he met her gaze. His lips lifted in a cocky smirk as he pushed off the tent dowel to stand straight, arms crossed over his chest and a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Tom, this is Miss Priscilla Crounse. She's a marksman, like yourself,” Raymond started, standing between the two to introduce them. “Figured the two'a you would get along, could be partners on some'a the jobs I send ya' out on.”

Priscilla kept Tommy's gaze the entire walk over, her lips turned up in a cool, almost flirtatious smirk. For her, there was an immediate attraction. He was older, for one; tall, gruff, and very handsome. Just her type. She offered her hand to him, her rifle shifting on her back.

“A pleasure t'meet ya', Tommy Blackwell.” She said his name in a way that was both mocking and curious.

“Miss Crounse,” He said, taking her hand for a lazy handshake. His voice was cool and suave but rattled as if gravel were stuck in his throat. He glanced briefly at Raymond. “We'll see about partners...” He turned his gaze back to Priscilla, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he breathed out a plume of smoke. “Maybe just fer'a night.”

Priscilla's brows quirked up at that, her lids coming low as she broke eye contact to wander his form slowly, and then return. Her smirk tugged up even more.

“There ain't no 'we'll see', Tommy. I make the plans, you follow 'em,” Raymond interrupted their silent flirting. “That's your job.”

Priscilla glanced toward Raymond quietly, her smile falling briefly before she crossed her arms and took a confident step toward Tommy. She plucked the cigarette from his lips and took a slow drag. “We'll see if he can even keep up with me.”

She held up the cigarette for him to take back. His eyes glittered with interest in her brazen confidence and he took the cigarette back with his teeth, shifting it to the corner of his mouth with his tongue. “Don't you worry yer pretty lil' head, Miss, I'm experienced,” he purred, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers like he was challenging her. His free hand rested on his belt, tugging it down ever so slightly.

Priscilla tilted her head up slightly as she watched Tommy take the cigarette back, biting her lower lip in a show of interest. She glanced toward his belt, licked her lips, and smirked, “We'll just have to see, then~”

Tommy finally looked back at Raymond with flippant defiance. “If I needed a partner, I'd have told you.” His tone was flat.

Raymond rolled his eyes. “Y'don't look like y'have too much of an issue with the one I've found ya'.” He looked between the two, sneering slightly at their shameless display of flirting before turning to leave. “I'm goin' t'bed. Welcome, t'the De la Fuente's, Miss Crounse. Let's not get too comfy, hm?”

Priscilla watched him go, that playful smirk still dancing on her lips. “He's certainly a cheerful fella', ain't he?”

Tommy leaned against the support beam of his tentrance. “Hm, he's a real sonofabitch.”

Priscilla looked back at Tommy with that same sultry stare. “So... tell me about this experience...?”

Tommy glanced back down at her. He didn't usually go for women younger than him, but something about that glimmer in her eyes had him fixated. Priscilla felt much the same; with his rugged looks and aloof, rebellious attitude, he was just her type. “Been shootin' since I was sixteen, self-taught,” Tommy commented simply, “an' what about you, Miss Priss, hm?”

“Learned when I was 18. Got told I was a natural. Still am a natural...” Priscilla stepped closer to him, their chests practically touching, “I'm quite the natural at a lot of things... perhaps you'd like a sneak peek?”

Tommy looked down at her with a sultry gaze, placing his hands on his gun belt as though he were inviting her to undo it. “I might,” He purred, tilting his head back down in a challenge, “If ya' think y'can handle me, that is.”

Priscilla shoved Tommy back into his own tent and connected their lips before he could even think about what he was getting into. Not that he was complaining.

Perhaps neither of the sharpshooters quite knew what they were getting into on that heated evening. How could they? Little love affairs were nothing unusual for either of them. One more was nothing remarkable.

Just another encounter in the wilderness of the West.

Out there, most everyone was running from something or another. Whether that be literally running for their lives, running from the law, running from their pasts, running from themselves... or some combination of it all. Everyone had their methods of making it through the day. Drinking, smoking, killing... sleeping around.

It was a culture of vagabonds, one way or another. No point in planting roots when you might be up and gone the next morning, the next week, the next month. But sometimes, roots get planted without you even knowing. Little bits of yourself, your story, are left behind and waiting to be found.

Sometimes those roots get tangled up with others and before you know it... you're left with something you want to protect. A veritable garden of important tangles and memories and people. And sometimes, those roots get infected and decayed and you have to cut right to the source to fix the rot.

There's a source to every story. A beginning to every end.

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warriorwhip · 4 years

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wow y’all rly liked that little doodle of realms Jesse and left awesome tags!! firstly, thank you! Secondly, some of the tags were questions/things I didn’t expand upon in the first post so here’s a few replies:

@froxlly #op tell us more I love them #I hope it’s okay to ask questions hkdjr

you are more than welcome to ask questions!! i love talking about minecraft and worldbuilding! feel free to drop qs about anything in the askbox :)

#what kinda strange powers do they have?

to put it simply, J has slash commands enabled because that’s how I like to play. They don’t use them a lot because they don’t want to see themselves become an admin, (and in my case I use them for convenience as a player in a survival world: daylock for prolonged building/teleporting to locations to save time but not for fighting the ender dragon, etc.)

Their powers are limited to time manipulation, daylocking, self/other teleportation, and manifesting certain items/blocks in dire situations

Does it affect them in any way?

having a gauntlet fuse into your body isn’t something to come without some consequences. I’m still kinda thinking about this... but the gist of it is that J will start getting some of Fred’s memories and emotions periodically. They just black out and are operated purely by whatever Fred Energy is left in the gauntlet... Or it’s more s2 flavored and they end up hearing whispers of fred’s memories and flashes of his emotions. (why don’t we have both?). I’ll figure out more as I draw them n talk with the friend that I’m on the realm with. She’s making a mc sideblog soon so hopefully there will be more from her on her character in this world once that happens!

@minecraftoworymode #n the community of former zombie villagers is rly neat too... WAH

YEAH idk what's up but we get a TON of zombie villager spawns (I dunno if this is normal or not bc I haven’t been playing other worlds) in the water around our house/mines so we built them a village and slowly brought more and more in. Our first village was destroyed by pillagers, leaving only one of seven alive (his name is Pep, bless him). After some debate we ended up using a command block to keep them safe. We’ve since rebuilt and added a graveyard for our fallen friends. Currently, we’re doubling the village to make way for new spawns and like five other zombie villagers that have shown up. (Come to think of it, idk if we’ll even have enough gold for the apples...)

also, here’s another doodle and some caps of j for posterity. they plant trees because it’s one of the few things that keeps their mind off home.

these are two of my builds, the order pavilion was one of the first and it was before I started using Jesse as a skin. I just thought it would be neat, but it’s easy to translate to the world as something j built to make the place feel like it’s home. We’re planning on putting a beacon through the middle of it.

The other is an entryway/watchtower that’s inspired the aesthetic of a lot of other builds. We have a raised garden theme which played into j getting super into planting trees to keep their mind occupied.

#nootsrambles #nootsdoodles #nootsbuilds #realmverse #i guess that's a fun name to tag it as #since my friend and i are building a world around this now #mcsm #ish #realms!jesse #Also we have like #so many wild pigs that just Surround Me at all times #they Know Me.. *cries*#minecraftoworymode #froxlly

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ashdreams2023 · 2 years

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Devil’s nightmare 10/55

Summary: the avengers are assigned to watch over a prisoner….you

Pairings: Avengers x Reader { mainly Loki and Bucky }

genre: comfort, found family, hurt to comfort, trauma recovery, romance

Warnings: blood, mention of abuse, 18+ content

Previous - Next

Children ran around the village, laughing and playing with each other.

Their life was easy, they had no responsibilities and only had to follow one strict rule.

Act like you don’t exist.

You licked your dry lips, following their bodies moving all around.

The chain on your throat felt a little tighter than usual for some reason that day.

“It’s spoiled now!”

“Then throw it to the animals” the mother told her son.

He was older than you.

He looked annoyed carrying the hot pot over to the pigs.

Or at least you thought it was for the pigs.

Instead of dropping it to them he stop in front of you with a disgusted look on his face.

“You’re the real pig” he said.

He flipped the pot and let the food spill on to dirty grown in front of your bare feet.

“Eat it.” he said

You cried as he pushed your face to the ground forcing you to consume some of it.

You struggled to breath but no matter how many times you screamed nobody even bothered to look your way.

You were all alone…

“Hey…wake up…HEY!” You inhaled sharply as Clint shook you up awake.

“Hey, hey…are you ok?” You blinked at him before realizing your face was wet.

You were crying.

“I’m…nevermind”

Clint didn’t buy that shit.

“Look that might work on everyone else but I don’t like riddles young lady”

“I’m older than you…” you said

Clint rolled his eyes.

“And you look as old as nat so that makes me older than you!”

You stared at him silently for a few seconds before giving in.

“It’s just a nightmare….from the past” Clint nodded.

“You know, when my kids have nightmares I usually sneak out with them to have ice cream”

Ice cream?

By the look on your face he can tell you’ve got no idea what means

“Ok, let’s make a pinky promise” he grabbed your pinky with his own.

You looked even more confused.

“This is a pinky promise ok, we have to do this promise no matter what ok?”

You nodded slowly.

“Let’s make a promise that, when you get better and we can get out of here, we will go and buy some ice cream together. Do you promise?”

Out of here…yes.

“I…pinky promise?”

“That’s the spirit!, now seriously come eat they’ve been fighting over the stove for hours and I’m starving, and don’t look at me like that you’re not some wild animal”

Hard to believe but whatever suits you archer.

For the first time in…ever you were served colorful food.

Like actually something that looks like it has flavor in it.

“Dig in, me and these two troublemakers worked hard on it” Natasha pointed at herself then Loki and Bucky.

“True, even though I’m still suspicious about those plants he used” said bucky

Loki huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“For your information I spent a fair amount of time in our kitchens when I was younger” Thor snorted after that making Loki glare at him.

“As punishments brother”

“I like to learn from my surroundings”

You licked your lips looking at your plate.

It was just mashed potatoes with grilled steak and salad on the side.

It looked way better than the boiled things you were used to consuming.

“All of you stop, I would’ve gotten us burgers but all of you insisted on something homemade and I-” tony stopped talking when he saw you covering your face with your hands.

Bruce, who was sitting next to you notice the tears sliding down your cheeks.

“If you don’t like it we can always go with-”

“No!” You stopped him “I’m just…I don’t deserve this”

Loki sighed, he lifted his knife and fork towards his plate being the first one to dig in.

“Food should not be earned, food is something you need, either being a god, a vampire or even…a witch. We all need to eat and it’s not wrong for you to enjoy the taste of what you’re having.”

Sniffed a few, with soft rub on your back you removed your hands.

Bruce gave you a kind smile before removing his hand away.

“Thank you…” you said

Tag list:

@purplekitten30 @there-goes-my-sanity @teardropcup @icelyn @baebeepeach @440mxs-wife @poptartpoppyy @buckylokisimp @azariussummers @that-little-zebunny @raven-reyes-wife @stanmixtapes @prettysbliss @buckybarneslefthand @kaaashie @austynparksandpizza @impoeticbeauty333 @grxvitye @i-have-no-life-charlie @ashadash0904 @multifandomlesbianic @navs-bhat @frostironfudge @happypopcornprincess @smokinserious @sylum

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Play with me [Billy Russo x Reader] - Requested [15+]

Title: Play with me Pairing: Billy Russo x Female!Reader Word count: 3.3k Published: 13 June 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: There's no smut in it, but it is quite suggestive so I think it deserves the 15+ rating. Warnings: Suggestive phrases, mention of alcohol and drinking Summary: Once again you find yourself dragged to a fancy event as part of your work by none other than Billy himself. Your boss seems to be enjoying your discomfort, finding entertainment in your grimaces and sulking comebacks. That is until you decide to turn his little game against him. Request: [x] Prompts requested by @sunrisefairy for my celebration event.

Billy Russo x Reader Fluff #19 - “It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.” Spicy #20 - “Are you flirting with me?” Spicy #39 - “I’m a little drunk and a little horny.”

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You've never been big on attending all those fancy events your company has been hired to work at, but Billy always said it was a good way to build connections. Not once have you found yourself in a pretty little ballgown, following your boss around with a stone-cold expression, silently trying to suffocate him with your murderous gaze. You were hired to be a security agent not a peacock, but Billy didn't seem to mind the invisible daggers your eyes shot at him, if anything, by the smug grin across his face, he appeared to be enjoying the situation.

Just like many times before, this event was organised by one of his clients as well and he had been invited, along with a plus one to your utter disappointment. Though it sounded like you were supposed to be guests, in the end the man made it clear that he wanted Billy to have his back and his people to be blended in the crowd. Therefore, most of the night, you and Billy have been following around the old man, some no name politician you couldn't even recognise with his wife on his arm, smiling like a wild beast.

"You know, if you think about it, this could be our first date," Billy smirked as his eyes scanned the room. "It's like a grand double date," he smirked, earning an annoyed huff from you.

"It's not a double date, I wouldn't even go out with you if you were the last person on this planet," you groaned. "We are just— third and fourth wheeling for the sole purpose of their security," you nodded towards the couple in front of you.

"If denial makes your sensitive little heart feel better about your attraction towards me, who am I to object," he chuckled. "Though I have to admit, that silk dress on you makes it very hard for me to focus," he scanned your body, his gaze studying every single inch as though he could see through the thin material. His eyes dwelled longer on the high cut design that ran up to the top of your thigh, exposing your bare legs. His intent gaze burned your skin, your ears feeling as though they were on fire before realisation hit you.

"Hold on a minute, are you flirting with me?" You asked incredulously.

"As smart as you are, I'm surprised it took you this long to realise," he replied with his smug grin growing wider.

"Wipe it off," you scoffed at him as he grabbed your arm, rougher than you expected and linked it with his, patting the back of your hand. You walked around the ballroom with him on your side as he shook hands with all kinds of men, each seemingly interested in every breath Billy took, almost as though he was more important than the old man in front of you.

"Why? If it wasn't for your distaste in all these events, you'd be drooling over me by now," he chuckled playfully, offering you a subtle wink, before he turned back to the sea of people with his head held high, his body straightening in an authoritative manner.

"You are delusional," you hissed, teeth gritting in frustration.

"Right, I guess you just love staring at me then. Though I'm not surprised, I'm certainly good to look at," he huffed.

"No and No," you scoffed with a grimace. "And remove that shit-eating grin from your face already," you retorted as Billy clicked his tongue.

"Pretty lips, but such a dirty mouth," he let out a low, throaty laugh as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver through your body. "You know, I have a couple of ideas what you could use that mouth for," he replied in a suggestive tone, arching a single brow as he pulled back.

"Oh, do you now?" You offered him a playful smile as your eyes looked him up and down before your gaze met his again. "Unfortunately for you, I'm not interested," you shook your head, trying to act as though his offer didn't affect you, as though his body so close to you didn't force your heart into a dangerous pace. Though mostly you found it easy to ignore his teasing, you had to admit a part of you was indeed inclined to know more about where his mind was wandering off to.

"Ouch," he placed a hand in front of his chest, acting as if he was indeed in pain before he rearranged himself. "Your loss, I guess," he shrugged nonchalantly, earning an annoyed eye roll from you.

As the night went on, you tried to ignore the music in the background and focus on your work. Your eyes scanned the gigantic room as you shimmied through the sea of people dancing in pairs whilst Billy followed right behind you, clearing his throat. Looking back over your shoulder, you realised his eyes weren't on the people surrounding you or establishing eye contact with the rest of the team. His gaze fell lower, lower than you expected.

"Do you like the view?" You asked, arching a brow as he finally stopped staring at your backside and lifted his gaze, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

"What can I say that dress seems to enhance your beauty in all the right places," he smirked, earning a scoff from you. "Hey, can't I compliment you?" He raised his hands innocently, but you didn't fall for it, his proud grin spread wider as he ran his eyes all over you again.

"Pig," you spat as you finally reached the end of the crowd and stole a glass of champagne from a tray one of the servers walked around with.

"You are not supposed to be drinking," he gave you a cold look.

"I can't handle you sober," you chugged the content of the glass in a swift movement, earning a loud huff from him.

"That's not very professional," he replied as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your waist, tugging you closer in his side.

"Well, screw professionalism," you huffed as you felt the alcohol hit you. It was already warm inside, but with the alcohol, you felt your cheeks flush. Your eyes wandered to your side, where his big palm cupped your side, his touch radiating further warmth into your already heated body. "Is it just me—," you asked as you met his gaze, "or your hand seems to wander way too carelessly on my body tonight," you squinted suspiciously.

"I'm just making sure you are safe," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"I'm not the client, you know that, right?" you huffed as you grabbed his hand, took it off your waist and walked towards another room, searching for the old man, before you heard a voice in your earpiece, letting you know about his whereabouts. Heading to his position, you felt Billy's presence right behind you again. You halted your steps and turned around, folding your arms in front of your chest.

"You were not supposed to be drinking," he repeated himself with a stern expression across his face, one that told you this time he wasn't playing around, he was indeed unhappy with you. But instead of apologising or acknowledging his presence for that matter, you simply ignored him and looked around the room. "Do you even realise that I'm your boss?" He frowned, looking at you with a questioning gaze. "I feel like I have been way too lenient with you," he groaned as you stared him down. You caught sight of a waiter heading your way, so you quickly snatched another glass from his tray and gulped down the champagne.

"So? What are you going to do about it?" You asked in a mocking tone, smirking at the man as he chewed on his bottom lip. The words escaped your vocal cords before you could even protest. In normal circumstances you would have never dared to say them out loud, but the alcohol in your system, the two glasses of champagne seemed to do the trick. As you weren't big on drinking and barely had any alcohol, it hit you harder than someone who was used to its strength.

"I could fire you in this instance," he hissed, his tone low and warning. You took a step towards him, barely leaving a couple of inches between you as you looked up at him.

"Then why don't you?" You asked, arching a brow, waiting for a reply. "Come on, why don't you, huh?" You taunted him. "What did you expect? That I'm going to beg you to let me keep my job? Humour me, Russo," you huffed, this time wearing the same shit-eating grin he wore before.

"You are playing with fire," he spoke through gritted teeth as he sneaked an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, forcing you to lift your head higher to be able to look up at him. "I don't appreciate that tone," he continued in a low, dark voice, one that made your knees buckle, the air stuck in your lungs. "If you want to get my attention, then you can stop, you have had it for a while," he growled as he brushed his lips against your earlobe, his breath fanning the sensitive skin behind your ear. "But if it's for the sole purpose of pissing me off, I advise you to cut the bullshit, because I don't like your stupid little game," he squeezed your side as he pulled back, his jaw clenched.

To be fair, you weren't sure why you were taunting him, but there was something about him when he was frustrated, when you knew he was just a push away from snapping. You never dared to cross that line, nor did you want to do it now, but that borderline dangerous look in his eyes made you feel weak, his strong arm around you rough and warning, still you couldn't stop yourself from poking the sleeping lion. "So, you can play with me, but I can't do the same? Don't you think that's hypocritical?" You scoffed, folding your arms in front of your chest, creating even more space between you. There was a moment of silence as Billy studied your face, trying to decide if you were serious or you had gone completely mental.

"You are drunk, you are not making any sense," he scoffed as he got hold of your arm and started dragging you towards a closed door. As he opened it, you found yourself in some sort of a lounge with a sofa on the opposite wall of the room, an armchair on each side and a small coffee table right in front of it. The dim light and empty room created a rather welcoming feeling after the loud ballroom. "Sit down and take a minute for yourself, I will be back in a second. Hopefully by then you will make more sense," he threw the words at you as he left and closed the door behind himself.

You didn't attempt to take a seat and lounge around, you didn't want to sit down and do nothing, though the slight dizziness you felt urged you to do so. For a second you debated if you should listen to your instincts and indeed rest your tired limbs, but you shook yourself out of the thought and instead wandered around the room, looking at the paintings on the wall. Each art was of the same man— the one you were supposed to be protecting— wearing the finest of clothing you have ever seen. Rich folks, you scoffed at the thought, but before you could have dwelled on them any longer, the door opened. Without looking over your shoulder, Billy's cologne filled your nostrils. "Did you come back to police me?" You said without turning to look at him.

"It seems I didn't give you enough time to clear your head," he mused.

"My head is completely clear," you shot back at him, stumbling a bit as you felt slightly lightheaded. He stood in front of the closed door, hands tucked in the pockets of his trousers as he casually leaned against the wooden panels.

"I can see that," he scoffed, this time with a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth, running his eyes up and down on your body, his gaze darkening.

"I'm not drunk," you pointed at his chest as you walked up to him in haste, halting your steps right in front of him, leaving a barely visible gap between the two of you, feeling the heat radiate from his body.

"And I believe that," he replied in a mocking tone. "Though it leaves me with a question. It seemed you had some difficulty standing on your own two feet just a minute ago. What was that about that then?" His smug grin grew wider, knowing he was right. Indeed, there were some side effects to the alcohol you have consumed.

"Fine," you replied, jaw clenched in anger, teeth gritting as you held yourself back. "I'm— I might be— a little drunk," you cleared your throat as though admitting it caused you physical pain.

"Okay, now we are getting somewhere," he said as he lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips along the curve of your shoulder, slowly following the path down to your wrist. "So, why did you drink then?" He asked, with a slight amount of curiosity.

"You pissed me off," you shrugged nonchalantly, earning a chuckle from Billy as he kept repeating his movements, running his fingers along your arm, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin, which he did not miss.

"That's not very professional, is it?" He asked, teasing you as his strokes moved from your shoulder to your collarbone, forcing your breath to turn shallow. He lifted his eyes, meeting your lustful gaze, only to caress his ego further. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you are not only drunk, but that smart little head of yours might just be filled with some very— very dirty thoughts," he chuckled as you swallowed nervously, his palm cupping your face, running his thumb along your lip.

He wasn't wrong though. There were thoughts that you wished never to voice, thoughts that had him standing in front of you naked, completely exposed, your hands running across his toned chest, his mouth nipping at the soft skin of your neck. You licked across your lips as the thought became even more vivid, his grumbling tone forcing you to draw your thighs together, needing some sort of a friction. He arched a brow at the movement, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "It seems I'm right once again and you are not even trying to deny it," he breathed as he planted his other hand on your waist and drew you closer. "Tell me, where is that pretty head of yours wondering to?" He let out a low chuckle, but you didn't answer, you didn't dare to say it. "Let me guess," he leaned down to your ear, tickling your neck with his beard, causing a knot to appear in the pit of your stomach, your breathing turning ragged, "are you horny?" He let out a low chuckle as he bit your neck, earning a silent squeaking sound from you, his actions 'almost' sobering you up. 'Almost', because within seconds you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"I—," you tried to reply, but your throat seemed too dry, your heart was beating so heavily, you could hear the drumming of your own pulse in your ears. "I maybe— just maybe a little horny," you breathed as he ran his lips along the curve of your neck, forcing your eyes to flutter shut. Before you realised your own actions, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him away from your neck, pressing your lips to his, stunning him for a mere moment, before he returned your advances. The kiss was hungry, teeth tugging at lips, tongues fighting for dominance, but that was what you needed. You pressed your body against his, closing any remaining gap between the two of you, earning a low growl from Billy. He grabbed your hips, holding onto you as though he was trying to ground himself, keeping himself sober in the haste of that heated kiss.

"I think we should stop," he breathed as he finally found his strength to leave your lips. A deep frown spread across your brow as you studied him.

"Why?" You asked in confusion, knowing— feeling his body's reaction to you.

"Think whatever you want of me, I can be a lot of things, but I like to think that touching someone without their consent is wrong. I believe we have already done more than we were supposed to," he cleared his throat as he tried to push you back gently, but rather firmly and you obliged.

"I'm giving you consent, Russo," you replied in disbelief.

"You are drunk, so I'm not sure you are," he shook his head. A loud huff left your lungs as you walked up to the sofa and sat down, placing one leg over the other, crossing them as you sunk deeper into the cushions.

"Okay," you scoffed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I said I was a little drunk. You see little is the key word here," you tilted your head, hoping he would understand where you were going with this. "As you can see, I'm capable of talking, walking, thinking and I'm certainly not crawling on the floor, am I?" You arched a brow, watching his expression turn contemplating. "I will make this easy for you, Russo," you continued, your tone inviting. You lifted your leg from the other and spread them just enough, so the opening of your dress fell between your legs, the high cut design revealing your bare thighs. Seemingly it was enough of an encouragement for Billy to tense up and swallow visibly. "So, what's it going to be?" You asked as a mischievous smile grew wider across your face just as you slowly started closing your legs. Before he could even stop himself, he pounced on you, kneeling between your legs, stopping you from closing the gap as he pressed his lips against yours, ready to take you up on your offer.

His mouth attached to yours hungrily, grabbing your thighs as he pushed you further into the sofa. You busied yourself with his clothes and started untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, impatiently trying to pull the material out of his trousers. You threw his tie on the floor, soon followed by his shirt, before you pushed him down beside you and crawled into his lap, earning a groan from him. "You little beast," he grinned at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to meet him halfway in a heated kiss, his hands grabbing your ass, pulling you further down onto his lap, his kisses trailing down to your neck, leaving you panting, whispering his name in your half-clear state of mind.

"Just so you know, I still hate you," you breathed against the crook of his neck as you returned the satisfying attention he was giving you, nipping on the sensitive skin, earning you a throaty groan from him.

"Yeah, I can feel it," he chuckled as he bucked his hips, causing a gasp to erupt from your lungs. "Let's discuss that after you stop screaming my name in pleasure," he replied through gritted teeth as grabbed your hips and with a swift movement changed your position, throwing you on your back, hovering above you. He studied your dishevelled look with a smug grin across his face, before he pressed his lips to yours again, his hands exploring every part of your body that he didn't have the chance to before, forgetting about everything and anything about the ball on the other side of the safely locked door.

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x yn #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo one shot #battle of swords celebration event

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hewhofightsbythesword · 3 years

Text

scotch or irish? tommy shelby x reader

warning/s: underage drinking, swearing, violence, and slight smut

inspired by disco pigs (2001)

A/N: I was really high when I came up this idea. Even wrote it while I was high, but I couldn’t find it the next mirning. Wasn’t sure if I really wrote it or if it was a dream. Either way, it’s here lol After like two weeks. Sowwyy

Tommy and y/n. y/n and Tommy. For as long as the pair can remember, that’s the way it has always been. Born only a few months apart, the two created an instant bond so strong that Aunt Polly said it would transcend through many lifetimes. And of course, Aunt Polly was never wrong in the matters of the heart. This was a friendship full of heart, romantic and platonic love for there was not one without the rest. Tommy’s mother would say to Polly, “That boy... it’s his cleverness that’ll kill him.” Martha found herself confiding in her more, so she continued, “As long as Tommy and y/n have each other... I am not worried.” And everyone knew. Everyone except Tommy and y/n.

The two had very similar minds. What one was thinking, the other was already mentally processing and vice versa. It would be almost adorable if it wasn’t so weird, as Arthur Sr. would call it. It was only weird because they were so smart. Against everybody else (even Polly at times, although she would never admit it), they were always two steps ahead.

From a young age the two understood their natural connection. For example, at the age of seven, Tommy and y/n planned to swear a vow of silence together that was planned to last a total of ten days. At first, y/n was met with slight worry from Tommy.

“We need code names! What should I call you if I need you?”

“You won’t have to need me, silly. That’s the whole point! I will already know, and so will you.” The logic was missing. They were both aware of this but none cared.

The goal was set for ten days. Not a single word was uttered between the kids or anyone else for that matter, aggravating the living hell out of those around them, especially Arthur who would’ve done anything to be a part of the joke. However, by day five, y/n broke the vow, rushing her feet as fast as they allowed a few houses down on Watery Lane.

That day she had heard a few of the older Lee boys, around Arthur’s age, speaking down on the Gypsy Shelby’s. y/n just had to tell Tommy or she was sure she would burst. It was also on day five Tommy came to two realizations: (1) He too would break their vow of silence. There was nothing worth doing if it meant he couldn’t do it with the person who understood him the most. (2) Tommy decided that same day that y/n, in her own right, was a Shelby too.

“Shelby,” he whispers to himself, only for him to hear.

At age 15, y/n was able to convince Tommy to steal a bottle of whiskey from the local pub. Her little hands shoved a piece of a paper with instructions in his direction. “Meet me here,” was all she told him with big eyes before he could even get a word in, running back to whatever held her short attention span. Unfolding the paper, Tommy could see a drawn out map of where to find the only girl who could keep young Tommy on his toes.

If anyone asked him, he would tell them all this was something he had to do. Many nights Arthur and Tommy had to go in all hours of the night looking for their father in pubs. One night in a drunken haze, Arthur Sr. takes his second born by the shoulders, causing him to be dragged onto the floor next to his father. He takes his boy by the face, shaking it a few times to show how serious he was trying to be.

“A man is meant to provide, always. Be a man, Thomas.”

y/n asked and Tommy planned to provide.

Seeing the large “X” marking the destination, it matched the location right before Tommy’s eyes. It was a beautiful far away, empty place from Watery Lane with lots of surrounding nature. It had just finished raining. y/n always did like the way the rain made the earth smell.

She notices her friend right away and runs up to him. y/n takes him by the hand. “I found my favorite tree here. Come on,” she says very nonchalantly.

Tommy shakes his head behind her. “Of course you did, Shelby. Of course you did.”

y/n often thought the world moved too slow for her liking. She always liked to be out and about. Always wild, never to be tamed. She figures that’s why she likes the Shelby’s so much. She was blessed to find a family early in her life that matched her soul. Except, she knows why she likes Tommy so much. He liked to be wild too. He moved just as fast as y/n, and he thought just as fast as her. So there was no doubt in her mind once she tasked her best friend with the alcohol that he'd deliver.

“I just took the first one I saw and ran like hell.” He presents y/n the bottle.

“Scotch whiskey,” y/n reads the label out loud before opening it. Tommy at this point began to see the trouble that she carried within her starting to stir. Confirming this intuitive feeling, y/n goes to make a quick toast like the kind she has seen her father make with Tommy’s. “To your Aunt Pol who would kill you if she ever knew, Thomas Shelby,” she groans out as she takes the first large swing with the most confidence. Even from when they were children, Tommy always wondered how so much confidence could fit in such a small body.

He takes the bottle from her to mimic her actions. “To my Aunt Polly who will find out by the week’s end.” They both laugh before Tommy takes his sip, but when he does, he takes it differently than y/n. “What the fuck, y/n. How can you even drink that shit?” He spits and coughs as he attempts to recover.

“What? I like it.” She shrugs while going for another.

At age 18, Tommy realized he loved y/n. By the time Tommy turned eighteen, it came to no surprise to anyone that he was already turning out to be a ladies man. Girls turning into young women were quick to notice his dark hair and hypnotic blue eyes. He was different than any of the factory worker boys that took after their fathers. He was ambitious. He wanted more to life than what dirty old Birmingham could offer, and the young women knew this so in some way, it even made it seem okay that his last name was Shelby. Almost as if Tommy was being pardoned for being a Shelby. And he hated that feeling.

y/n never made Tommy feel that way. She was always the first and the last one to defend her friend since birth. Crowned by Tommy all those years ago, she was Shelby. What else could have made her break her vow with Tommy all those years ago? Tommy didn’t realize exactly what he was realizing at the time. How could he? They were kids being kids. He couldn’t have known it was loyalty. If it wasn’t clear to Tommy then, it was now.

“You need to get out of here. Go get Arthur and John. This is no place for a woman,” Tommy warns y/n one night out, sensing trouble.

The two found themselves cornered by a group of boys around their age. The Peaky Blinders were gaining respect, notoriety, and fear from those around them. Things were changing for the Shelby’s, but not everyone agreed. Most certainly not the three boys looking for a fight. “Run!”

“No!” She hisses back. She tightens her fist and holds them up.

“There is no fucking way I’m letting you do this.”

“Either I leave to get the boys and we come back to your half-dead body, if we’re lucky or I stay and fight and we may actually win this.” Truth be told, y/n wished she could listen to Tommy and go get his brothers. But more than the fear she felt for herself, it was tenfold for Tommy.

“Damn you, Shelby.” he tells her as the fight breaks out.

No words were exchanged on the walk to The Garrison. It seemed like all of the day’s events were forcing Tommy to think about the vow they made when they were seven. Only this time, Tommy could see the logic she proposed. He did know what she was thinking because he was so sure she was thinking the same as him.

“Whiskey, Harry,” was all Tommy said, not bothering to spare the man a glance. y/n goes to sit at a table like they always do but was stopped by Tommy. He latches onto her hand, careful with the cuts and bruises that were beginning to form. “No,” he tells her, “We’ll be in the snug.” And no one protested. They may have wanted to but at the sight of blood on their clothes and on his razor blade, no one dared to speak out against the Blinder.

Not long after Harry delivers two glasses of whiskey through the snug’s window. “Give the toast, Shelby,” he gives the cup to y/n.

Her eyes never leave his. Even with exhaustion hijacking them, y/n could not name a more beautiful sight. “To you, Tommy. To the best and worst pal in the world.”

In his state of shock, Tommy failed to clink their glasses together, so y/n did it. The sound pulls him out of his own swirling thoughts, and they down their drink in an instant. Like the siamese twins they are, a look of disgust and twinge of horror overtake their faces.

“Scotch.”

“Irish.”

They both spit out like venom but were quick to laugh it off. “You gave me the wrong cup, Thomas!”

“Hey, come on now. I’m still Tommy. I’m just a bloody idiot for not knowing the difference.”

Only a few moments later, the laughing winds down a bit. The atmosphere still remains light only to be shattered. “Why don’t you love me?” He blurts out to y/n. “Like the way I love you?”

y/n’s content smile never falters. “I believe you have been too busy to notice me, Tommy. I’ve been right here. Because if you would have just asked, I would’ve said I loved you too. And I do... love you too.”

He smiles at her. “The best and worst pal in the world.”

y/n could feel her heart begin to hammer against her chest. She no longer felt like she was sitting down but floating. With the adrenaline from the fight gone, she should have been able to feel her wounds mark their place on her skin. But that’s not true. All she could feel was a warm, tight feeling in her chest. The boy she loved, loved her back. And no amount of irish whiskey could ever compare.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.”

Tommy’s eyes searched y/n’s for any trace of hesitance or fraud but found none. All he could see were the eyes of the girl he loved the most. And most importantly, the girl loved him back.

He stands up to speak to Harry through the snug’s window and comes back shortly after. “Come here, Shelby.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss the only girl in all of Small Heath that I love.” At that, y/n had no protests.

Their kiss was nothing less of what the two expected. It wasn't awkward. Nerve wracking, sure, but not awkward. Many nights y/n dreamt about this very moment. She dreamt how Tommy’s lips would feel against hers. She often wondered what kind of lover he was. And now she knows, leaving her with no more thoughts to wonder about.

She is the first one to pull away. “I have loved you since we were seven and you called me “Shelby” for the first time.” She places desperate kisses onto his lips, cheeks, and neck. Anywhere they would fall, really, leaving traces of pure love behind.

Tommy feels like he is starting to lose control once her pillow soft lips attack his neck. “Tell me again, y/n. Let me hear you.”

“I love you,” She reminds him in between her kisses.

“Shelby... if you keep doing that, I’m not sure how much gentleman will be left in me.”

She looks up from the spot on his neck she was loving on, having found his sweet spot. “This one? Right here?” She asks, feigning innocence as she lightly bites down. When she hears his soft moan, her tongue laps at the spot relieving it only to finish off with a few kisses.

Before the last one can even land, Tommy’s hand finds her neck to take control once more. He doesn’t squeeze nor does he have a rough hold. He merely wraps his fingers around the neck he will one day dress in the biggest jewels. Tommy guides y/n to the edge of the table and pushes her to lay on it.

“Here, Tommy?” She giggles watching her best friends crawl on top of her

He shushes her with more wet kisses. “No one will come in. It’s just me and you.” His hands caress, squeeze, and tease whatever he can.

“It’s yours, Tommy, my heart. It’s all yours.”

He wraps his hand under her hair that was sprawled over the table into a makeshift ponytail. “Mine,” he proves when he finally feels all of her. His eyes never hers, wanting to sear the memory of the exact moment she became his. Pain overtakes her face but her hands on his lower back right above his ass lets him know she was okay. After a while, y/n signals Tommy to start moving once more and pain starts to transform into a pleasure y/n never thought was possible.

All the sounds the two were making were sure to be drowned out by the ruckus made by the drunk men just outside the snug. Tommy was sure to tell Harry that no one else was allowed in under any circumstances. In his moment of euphoria, Tommy was ready to wet his razor blade for the second time that night should anyone dare barge in and take a look at what belonged to him.

This wasn’t Tommy’s first time but it was the first time he realized all what sex could be. All the men in his life were wrong. He was wrong. It didn’t have to be all what they said it should. All he ever needed was y/n. Now that he had her, he had no intention of ever letting go.

Basking in the momentary afterglow of his best orgasm, he says, “You know what, Shelby? I don’t think I mind scotch whiskey all that much anymore,” his thumb traces y/n lower lip, even getting it slightly moist, “Not when the taste comes from your lips. My lips.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 10:

“Hey, Bakugou.” You greet easily, waving at him. “Can you believe it?”

“Jesus- what the hell are you on about now?”

“Nothing. Just, this marks the third time I’ve seen you without injury. Good on you buddy, setting a personal record and everything.”

He huffs, pushing off the wall. Bakugou is without his costume, clad in just normal sweats. The sight makes you feel a little bad- it was obviously his day off, but there he was working. Sacrificing his time for you.

“Fuck you.” He grumbles, without any bite. “Seriously. Fuck you.”

“C’mon, grumpy, don’t get so huffy.” You say playfully. “I was mostly joking, but I did mean it. I think I like you a whole lot better when there’s no blood involved.”

He starts to smile, just for a second, before he quickly evens his expression. It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that it was there at all, quickly spinning around and starting off at a brisk pace.

“Woah, slow down, no need to run, speedy. I’ll take it back if you’re so allergic to me being nice.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond, but he does slow down. Just minutely. Hardly even at all if you really think about it, but hey, at least you’re not basically running after him anymore.

“What’s got you so cheery, hah?” He asks after a beat, making an intentional point not to make eye contact. “It’s late- you’re not tired again?”

His tone catches you off-guard, something accusatory underneath that has you scrunching your nose. You’re not exactly sure what he’s getting at, but you can read his prickly tone for what it is- Bakugou is making fun of you.

“No. I’m actually not tired, thank you very much.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“You know, that sentence from anyone else would offend me- but from you?” You scoff, squinting your eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure it was meant as an insult, not an insinutation; so I’ll refrain from calling you a pig. For now.”

“Call me anything and see where it gets ya, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Fight me?”

“Please, it wouldn’t be a fight.” He snorts, kicking at a rock in the road. It flies down the alley, all the way past the streetlamp’s glow. “See? I’d slaughter you.”

“Yes! Probably!" You say in faux exasperation. "But it’s because you have way more practice at slaughtering people! I don’t know why you’re bragging about that- that’s totally not something normal people brag about!”

You throw your hands up, gesturing wildly, and Bakugou just sort of watches you. Doesn’t really react other than to evade one of your errant hands. You just barely miss him, the tips of your fingers clipping the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“What- nothing? You’ve got nothing to say about that? Course you don’t- because you’re proud of slaughtering people. Is that it? Huh?”

“I’m proud of winning.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Close enough.” He shrugs. “'Sides, it’s not my fault I wasn’t listenin’. Ya said so many damn words to me.”

“That’s so rude! You-“

Seeing his smile, you cut yourself off half-way. It should hardly even count as a smile, really, it’s much more of a smirk- something entirely self-indulgent and dripping with arrogance. You’re not sure if you wanna punch him in the mouth or giggle.

“You jerk. You’re messing with me!” On impulse, you knock your shoulders into his. Bakugou doesn’t flinch- nor does he budge whatsoever. “You’re just being mean on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Course.”

“Why? Just, I don’t know, be nice?”

“Fuck that. No thanks.”

“You incredibly rude- you know that?”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying.” He retorts, knocking his shoulders into yours. Bakugou smirks when you stumble. “See- I’d murder you in a fight.”

“No one was debating that!”

He just bites his lip, throwing his head back. It’s like Bakugou is trying to hide his smile; exposing the strong column of his throat to you, pale skin gone 10 shades of gold under the streetlamp.

It steals the breath from your lungs- how devastatingly beautiful he can be. You have to tear your eyes away.

“Hey, Bakugou, it’s your day off right?”

He eyes you a little strangely. “Yes? Why?”

“Geez- Don’t be so suspicious.” You laugh. “I only asked because I was curious.”

“The hell you have to be curious about?”

“Just what you’d be doing right now otherwise- you know, if you weren’t stuck walking me-“

“‘m not stuck. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, but still.” You take a breath. “What I mean, is that, I’m sorry if this is burdening you. I know this probably isn’t what you wanted to do on your day off.”

He eyes you, sniffing for a moment while he juts his chin out. “Eh- it’s fine. Walking this far outta my way is good excercise anywa-“

“This far? Oh my god- are you serious? Where do you live?”

“Far enough.”

“Bakugou.” You say sternly, staring him down. You’re well aware he’s not a man who’s easily scolded into revealing the truth, but damn if you weren’t going die trying. “Seriously- how far?”

“Fuck’s it matter to you for?”

“Because it just does! Now, c’mon really, I’m gonna feel like, super bad if you say you’ve gotta take a train her-“

“No train, so quit bitching.” He scans the street for a moment, before turning back to look at you. “Not that far. Half an hour, maybe, if I was running.”

“If you were running? What about walkin-“

“Not walking so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“It fuckin’ doesn’t-“

Then he’s standing ram-rod straight, slapping an open palm over your stomach and pushing you back. You’re flying back into the shadows, back slamming against the brick wall. Gasping, air knocked clean out of your lungs, it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open and watch him leave.

Bakugou hardly even looks back before he’s soaring past the end of the alley, explosions igniting under his palms. There’s no one, all is quiet, silent and tense and then- bam.

A mottled mass of muscles and pulsating flesh barrels through the building beside Bakugou. Debris rains down onto the street, down onto the exact spot you were standing moments ago. The flying detrius knocks Bakugou off course, and the blonde hardly dodges before the creature is slinging fists his way.

“Shouldn’t’a been makin’ such a scene!” Bakugou is all smirks and haughty confidence, seamlessly twisting and dodging the creature’s strikes. “Gave yourself away- I’ve got you now!”

Even breathless and winded, you can’t help but stare. Bakugou truly is something else- a terrifying bullet in the air, bordering on frenetic as he dodges. He’s so fast you’re worried he’ll catch fire. There’s a reckless sort of smile on his face, stretching his lips back around canines you’re sure are sharper than before. He’s throws his left palm out, explosion recoil throwing him just past the creature’s next attack. It’s enough of an opening for Bakugou to surge in, flashbang fingertips making contact with the beast’s abdomen.

“Really, that’s all?” He challenges, grinning like mad when the beast flies back from the impact. “No strategy at all? That’s not gonna fuckin’ work!”

And then he looks back at you, just for a singular moment, while the beast is bent over from his previous blow. The sight nearly knocks the air out of your lungs all over again.

Bakugou is terrifying. Manic and bloodthirsty and feverish almost, chest heaving with every labored breath. There’s something wild in his eyes, coloring his features in blood that hasn’t even been spilled yet. It’s intimidating and scary and overwhelming, but he’s dazzling too. A crazed smile, so blinding and brilliant, that it leaves an after-image long after he’s blasted away again.

Something snaps in you then, and you’re diving behind the nearest dumpster. It’s a little gross and cramped, but you hear plaster cracking around you, and suddenly it’s not so bad anymore. Your eyes are wide, watching the battle- and even when hidden it still feels too close.

Your heart is trapped in your throat, a battering ram even as you try to catch your breath. Everything is loud, and chaotic, and you’ve never been this close to a real battle before. It scares you. You clasp your hands around your ears, trying to block out the gargling and explosions. It’s not enough, your breath still picking up as explosion impact rattles the asphalt beneath your feet.

“You’re done!” You hear him shout, and suddenly the air goes white and hot, and bright.

You screw your eyes shut, and bite back a scream as an explosion rattles every surrounding window. The sound swallows everything, and the light show is even worse. Even through your eyelids it’s blazing. Bright enough to have you diving to the ground and tucking your head between your knees.

Then it’s quiet. Complete silence other than the ringing in your ears. You hear impact, a warbled groan, and then the sound of his voice.

“You fucker.” He roars. “I’m fuckin’ busy, you weak bitch, can’t ya fuckin’ see that?”

Another thud. Another groan.

“All this shit for some cash? Just get a job, you fuckin’ loser. Like the goddamn rest of us.”

You peak your head over the dumpster, and see Bakugou standing tall over the collapsed body. You’re not entirely sure how the villian’s quirk operates, but the mass of flesh is deflating by the second, leaving behind a skinny mess of bones and sinew.

“A front, hah? Pathetic.” Bakugou sneers, grinding his teeth before he snaps. “On your fuckin’ feet weakling- ‘m taking you in.”

Bakugou hauls the skinny man to his feet, trapping rail-thin arms tight to the man’s back. It’s only then that you choose to emerge, staggering slighty on your shaking legs. It’s like you’ve got tremors- your body practically bowled over by the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“H-help- I didn’t-“ The skinny man starts, before Bakugou is sending a knee into the base of his spine.

“Don’t speak to her, you shit-stain.” Bakugou curls his lip. “Shut the hell up.”

You’re not really sure what to do then- caught between wanting to high-tail it in the complete opposite direction, and surging towards Bakugou. Because, if you weren’t certain before, you definitely were now; Bakugou knew what he was doing. And if worst ever came to worst, he’d stay true to all his threats. Nobody was getting to you while he was around.

“Follow. C’mon.” Bakugou nods towards the end of the street. “Police station. You know where it is. Let’s get the hell to it already.”

You just start walking- almost on autopilot. There’s a weird fuzz settling in your brain, the adrenaline seeping and leaving nothing but exhaustion behind. It’s disorienting because you weren’t even part of the fight- Bakugou had shoved you back long before you could have ever been in any real danger.

You’re not sure how he knew- how he could have possibly predicted the villain coming through the wall, but even still, you’re gratetful. Because you’re not hurt, only frazzled where you would’ve been massacred without him there.

Bakugou waits for you to pass him by, and only once you’re a good few steps ahead, does he start shoving his prisoner forward. The walk is tense and silent, the only noise being the occasional pained groan from the skinny man. There’s an undeniable air of intimidation coming from Bakugou, rolling off his skin and permeating every spare inch of air. It only adds more stress to an already harrowing situation.

The police station lies just where you remembered it, but you’ve never been this close before. You’d only seen it down the end of the street as you passed by- only through the fuzzy haze of exhaustion after your shift ended. Now there’s nothing hazy about it- just a stark white building and big glass doors. Big glass doors that Bakugou is surging through, prisoner in tow, and ordering you to stay behind.

When he’s through the door, it’s like your heart finally starts to catch up. You can feel it’s thud slow against you ribs, no longer jumping at every slight sound. You eyelids feel heavy, further weighed down by the headache you feel coming on. You lean against the wall of the station, bending slightly at the waist as you ground the heels of your palm against your temple.

“All good?” You hear his voice some time later, Bakugou’s footsteps heavy as he approaches. “You get hurt?”

“No- ‘m fine.” You chew your cheek, straightening as you look up at him. “I think.”

He studies you for a moment, red eyes flitting across your face. Bakugou grimaces. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah. Was scared.”

“It’s fine now.” He huffs, frustration lacing his features. Bakugou clenches his hand, releases, and repeats twice over before he speaks again. “Got ‘em already, so you can chill the hell out now. Alright?”

“Yeah- yeah sure.”

You try to agree, but your voice doesn’t sound right when it leaves your throat. It’s a little too hoarse, empty of almost all inflection. You’re not particularly pleased with it and Bakugou is even less so.

“You need a few minutes or something?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like even asking the question pains him. “Need to call somebody?”

Bakugou looks incredibly uncomfortable- eyes shifting around wildly and refusing to settle. All of his battlefield-confidence, even that self-assured smirk seems to have disappeared entirely. He huffs a pained breath and leans back against the wall next to you. His shoulders are just barely touching yours, voice pinched and tense when he speaks.

“I know it’s loud- but it’s over now. Now you just go home, and you sleep. Nothing is gonna happen to you.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Bakugou tilts his head skyward. He grinds his teeth, once, twice, and smooths out his grimace. “And I’ll fuckin’ be there so don’t go spiraling about it, alright? You’re safe now.”

You nod, rolling your lips together for a moment. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even attempting to, but you can’t help but stare. Can’t help but track all the lines of his face; the way his nose slopes, and the set of his eyebrows. He doesn’t look like before. Not crazed, or manic, or brutal. He’s just Bakugou. Maybe a little grumpy, but mostly just uncomfortable- exactly the way you’ve come to know him.

Something in you settles at bit at that.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's go." You kick off the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. "I'm more than ready to be home."

Bakugou just watches you, and you can see him reach a hand out before immediately dropping it. His lip curls up in disgust- and that just confuses you. You wonder where the Bakugou from a few minutes ago went; the one who seemed so entirely sure of himself.

"Faster." He says, overtaking you in one long stride. "Stallin' around at night is never a good idea."

You suppose he's right, but you never would've believed him before.

Prior to tonight, you had never been a part of a villain attack. You hadn't even seen a villain on anything other than TV re-runs. Your neighborhood was quiet, the streets never holding any danger, even at night. Now, though, every shadow seems suspicious, every sound a precursor for something far worse. Your well aware you just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time that night, but that didn't make the reality any easier to handle. If Bakugou hadn't been there, if he hadn't show up dead on your balcony months ago, then you would've been gravely injured by all that falling debris.

The thought makes you feel weak all over again. Has your fingers curling in your gloves- itchy and uncomfortable and helpless.

You're quiet as you walk, caught up in a million spiraling thoughts. Bakugou doesn't seem keen on conversation either, keeping a few paces ahead and scanning for other danger. Occasionally he'll turn back, check to make sure you're following, and all you can really offer is a nod and a shaky sort of smile. It doesn't satisfy him at all- you can see that every time he sets his jaw.

"Oi- Leech." He snaps in front of your eyes, waving his hand back and forth. "It's- stop lookin' like that already. All freaked the fuck out. You look ridiculous."

His haughty tone as your blood warming, fingers clenching at your sides as you walk. You're not sure what reaction he's after, but all you can really think to do is get angry.

"I am freaked out! You were there! You saw that guy! He was huge!" You snap, squinting your eyes and waving your hands around. "If you weren't- I- what am I supposed to do when that shit happens? Huh? I can't fight, and even if I could I wouldn't, so what am I supposed to-"

"Nothing." He interrupts. "You do nothing, and you hide. Like you did."

"Yes, because you pushed me! If you hadn't I would've been crushed by all that- and how on Earth did you even know he was coming?"

"Vibrations. In the ground." He squints at you, a little confused. "Did you not-"

"No!"

"Damn," He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You really couldn't feel that? Jesus, you really are clueless. No wonder you were so freaked out."

In that moment, you're a little sure you could strangle him. All his skill you'd seen earlier suddenly didn't matter at all, and you were sure you could take him down with nothing but rage alone.

He- vibrations? You didn't feel anything! You felt nothing and even if you had, you would've assumed it was an earthquake. No one except for him and his battle-addled brain would've ever assumed it was a villain of all things!

"Calm down," He seems to be fighting a smile, lip twitching up. "You look fuckin' ridiculous right now. 'm not scared of you, leech."

"You should be! I'm about to strangle you right now-"

"For what?"

"For- for- I don't know! You just make me so angry with your 'Oh, you didn't feel that?' bullshit!" You tilt your voice lower, coating it in gravel to mimic him. "Of course I didn't feel anything! I'm not like you- I don't have freaky super-human instincts and explosions and I can't just go fight somebody!"

True to his word, your outburst doesn't seem to scare him. If anything if seems to pull the smile from him more, lips pulling back into a grin even he has no chance of hiding.

"There she is." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, falling back a little to walk right beside you. "Thought you'd gone into shock or somethin'."

"So you- on purpose?"

"Said that shit about vibrations? Yeah." His smile turns wolfish, all sharp canines and pink gums. "There were no fuckin' vibrations, idiot. I heard the plaster cracking."

In that moment you're the surest you've ever been- you were going to murder Bakugou Katsuki.

"You dick!"

Your hands are out before you can stop them, shoving forcefully at his side. He just looks at you, rolling his eyes, and then decides to let you tip him sideways off the curb. It's the worst kind of victory- a pity one that he let you have.

"Chill out, already." He laughs. "Only said shit so you'd stop bein' all miserable. You should be fuckin' thankin' me."

"I'm not thanking you!"

He steps forward, one long stride eclipsing you entirely. Then he spins, facing you with another crooked grin, and you're digging your heels into the cement to avoid crashing directly into his chest.

"I said-" He starts, hands in his pockets and leaning forward until he's practically towering over you. "You should be thanking me."

His voice is low, sly and challenging as he grins. He looks positively predatory- but attractive too. The worst kind that leaves your heart stuttering in your chest for almost no discernable reason.

"G-get away from me." You fluster, taking a step back. "I'm not thanking you."

He shrugs, falling back to a safe distance. You don't miss it though- the way his grin goes just a little wider, entirely satisfied. He won, and he knows it.

"Suit yourself, then leech." He says, voice light. "If ya wanna mouth off so much, then 'm not fuckin' saving you next time."

He says the words, but you're almost entirely sure he doesn't mean them. Not with the way he is now- beaming and pleased under the moonlight. You wonder if he always gets like this; so happy just after a victory. It's the kind of sight that almost makes the entire ordeal worth it. Almost.

You walk through the doors of your apartment, shuddering a long sigh of relief. The walls feel safe, security and peace etched into familiar walls. Even with Bakugou stomping behind you, the serenity isn't disturbed all that much. He's still in his rare good mood apparently, and he doesn't even grumble whatsoever.

Truth be told, you're still a little shaken, but the interior of your apartment puts you at ease. Even if you don't feel nearly as infallible as before, home is a good feeling- it always is.

"You know- you know that you just got unlucky, right?" Bakugou seems to struggle for a moment, kicking the door shut behind him. "It's- that's- shit like that doesn't usually happen here."

You're not sure where his sentiment is headed, and he must see it on your face. He flares his nostrils, sighing something long-suffering and dramatic.

"I'm sayin'- that wasn't part of anything else. It was just the one idiot, so it's not any more dangerous here than it used to be. 'm sayin' don't waste your time worryin' about that shit."

Something in you warms a bit- just a fraction. You're not sure how he knew, how he always seems to know just what you're thinking, but at this moment you don't care to find out. There are some comforts better left experienced instead of studied- and you figure this might be one of them.

You smile, something soft and fond. "I take it back- I will thank you. So thank you. I'm sure I'd be a lot worse off if you weren't around."

You watch him fluster, watch him itch in his skin and shift his weight around. Eventually he settles on turning his back, moving towards your fridge as he speaks.

"Probably. You froze up completely- woulda been piss poor job performance to let you get killed." He's swinging the fridge door open, and the white light just makes it more apparent- his cheeks are pink. "Got ice packs in here somewhere?"

"I-Ice packs?"

"Yeah. Knuckles are gonna bruise up if I don't ice 'em."

You look a little closer then, at his fingers curled around the handle of your fridge. His knuckles are a little swollen, bruised up and red where the skin had split. It doesn't look too bad, much less serious than any other injury he'd come to you with, but that doesn't change the itching in your own fingers. You want to help him- now more than ever it seems.

"Shit- sorry." You breathe out, nearing a little to get a closer look. "I was so freaked I didn't even think about asking- are you okay? You're okay, right? Nothing else, no bones or blood or-"

"Calm down. 'm fine."

You look at him again, squinting for eyes for a moment. He just rolls his own, extending his arms out and flipping them. He was telling the truth- there's only one other scratch on him, and even that was already scabbed over. The only issue were his knuckles- and that sets you at ease.

"You want me to wrap them for you?" You ask, looking up at him. "Oh wait- actually, you'd probably want to do that yourself, huh? Since you're not on the brink of death this time and actual-"

"You do it."

"Huh?"

"I said- you do it." He won't meet your eyes, turning back to your fridge and opening it up once more. He makes himself right at home, grabbing one of the water bottles off the shelf without asking. "Did it all the other times, so you do it. Don't think you're gonna get away with cuttin' corners on me."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, that I know you find it annoying when I'm all fussy so I just-"

"Shut up already. You continuing to run your mouth is the only thing that's annoying me right now."

You're about to retort, something offended and assuredly juvenile, but you decide against it. That night had been filled with far too much conflict for your liking, and you weren't about to incite more of it. If he wanted you to wrap his knuckles, then you'd wrap his knuckles. You figured it's the least you could do for him.

Turning your back on him, you start for the bathroom, and the first aid kit inside. A part of you considers just permanently moving the kit into the kitchen, but that sort of seems like you're just inviting more misfortune. You keep hoping that one day you'll stop having to patch Bakugou up at all, but from the looks of it, that isn't likely. Not even a little bit considering his obvious bloodlust.

"You wanna-" You start, walking back into the kitchen. You're shocked into stillness by the sight of him searching through your cupboards. "Um, what exactly are you doing?"

"Hungry."

"Okay, caveman, I just- you're not seriously trying to cook right now are you?" You near him, hands hovering in the air. You're sure he wouldn't appreciate it, but a large part of you just wants to grab at his shoulders and shove him away from everything. "Stop that- lemme get you fixed up first. Then I can call for something. I'm not gonna let you exert yourself any more than you already have."

Bakugou seems a little perturbed by that, whipping his head around until you can see wild red eyes. You almost sigh; what you wouldn't give for him to just chill out for once.

"I'm not saying you can't cook. You probably could, I don't know." You near a little more, dropping the first aid kit onto the countertop. "I'm saying, you've already done enough today, and you deserve to take it easy. So let me help you by wrapping your hands up. That's all."

Bakugou's in the midst of another internal struggle, before he visibly forgoes it. His shoulder's drop and the tension leaks until he's settling into one of your dining chairs. He sets his hands out on the table, clearing his throat at you until you kick into motion.

At this point, cleaning up his hands is practically a daily chore. You've gone through the motions more than enough times to be adjusted, but even still, his hands still freak you out a little. You'd never seen anyone who radiated so much heat- even just being next to him was like sitting in front of an open flame.

Your fingers are gentle, skidding over his hands with feather-light touches. He seems to slump in his chair, eventually just laying his head on the outstretched arm you weren't actively working on. He watches you closely the entire time though, red eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Do it again." He says. "Too loose. Do it again."

You're half-way through wrapping his right hand, only a small amount of bandage left. Not only would you have to do the bandage over entirely, but you'd have to unwrap it completely first.

"You always say that," You mutter, exasperation coloring your voice. "What makes it so much better the second time around, huh? I do it the exact same."

"It's just better. Takes longer."

You're not really sure what he means by that, and Bakugou doesn't look all that thrilled that he said the words at all. He jumps in his chair, cheeks gone pink as he digs his face into the skin of his arm. He's hiding.

It strikes you as even but odd, but you shrug off the strangeness all the same. You're getting far too used to his particular brand of bizarre.

"All better now?" You goad, patting the bandage after you've finished re-wrapping. "Everything feel nice and perfect for Prince Bakugou?"

He lifts his head. "You're not funny."

"You always say that too. But it's okay, I know one day you'll finally come around and appreciate me."

He just laughs under his breath, but he smiles too. Grins something tiny and small that he hides in his shoulder.

You start finishing up his other hand, and Bakugou doesn't say anything otherwise. He just sits, resting his head on his arm, and watching you intently. He's all calm and even breathing, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. You'd thought him adrenaline-crazed earlier, but it seemed he was coming off of that high rapidly. You could feel the exhaustion too- almost lulled by your movements just as much as he was.

You start gathering away all of your materials, and he doesn't even move. Just sits in perfect stillness at your table.

"I- I didn't accidentally touch you right? That's not why you're like that?" You ask, smothering a yawn. "Super exhausted, I mean."

He shakes his head. "Nah. Normal tired. Didn't fuck up this time, leech."

You don't have it in you to respond, hardly even rolling your eyes at his remark. His jabs don't hold much bite anymore- you begin to wonder if he's actually getting nicer or if you're just growing a ridiculous tolerance.

You brush off the thought, pushing away from your table and rising from the chair. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah. Wanna sleep first though so don't worry about it."

"Okay; well, I'm definitely going to so-"

"I said don't." He supplies evenly, finally sitting up in his seat. "It's fine. 'm not fuckin' starvin' or anything."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

His insistence sells you, but you're not sure if it's because you actually believe him or because you just want to. Either way, you figure it doesn't matter much in the end, not to the way your limbs are quickly bowing to exhaustion. You feel the fatigue settling in, and you'd like to blame that for your next actions.

"C'mon then, sleep time, I guess." You say.

Then you cross the kitchen, passing behind him, dropping your hand on his shoulder. You hardly let it sit, just running your thumb over his shirt once, twice, and then continuing on your way.

He takes several seconds to finally follow you into the living room. Enough to have you looking back in confusion, unable to understand why he looked so very stunted where he still sat.

"Jesus, you're annoying." He finally grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

His steps are loud as he crosses the room, stopping just a few inches in front of you. He grabs at your arm, raising your wrist himself and plucking the glove off in one fluid grab. It if wasn't so sudden an action- so ridiculous and fast and borderline violent, you might have even been flustered.

As it was though, he just grabbed your wrist before you could really register it.

Familiar warmth floods your veins. The same burning, slow heat that makes it;s way through each vein and artery. You think maybe your knuckles ache a little bit too, but it's too hard to tell through your quickly increasing sleep fog.

Bakugou lets you go pretty quick, falling back on your couch in almost the same moment.

"Better?" You ask, mirth warming your words. "Had to do it yourself because I was taking too long?"

"No, 'cause you pissed me off."

"Doing what?"

"You know what you're fuckin' doing."

Then he's grabbing the blanket, settling it over himself gracelessly while he flops over. He's face-first into the cushions now, effectively ending the conversation in much the way he typically does- by refusing to engage entirely.

You just roll your eyes a litItle fondly, still not even beginning to understand.

/-/

ooooo boy i am so sorry y'all for this late uPDATe,,, pls i usually update my fics way faster than this but sometimes life rlly just do be happenin lmaoooooo

n e wayz, ty for reading and supporting my work!! y'all are the absolute best i could ever ask for!!!

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou bnha #bakugou mha #bakugou x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x self insert #bakugou x you #bakugou fic #bnha fic #mha fic #bakugou imagine

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thequeenb · 3 years

Text

Come Back

This is part 3 of the series because its highly requested. Part 1 and 2 are here for you to read.

I watched Poppy get out of the limo gracefully as she has always been. She was perfect in every way, people here aren't used to this type of women. From head to toe she was beautiful, from the way her hair fell to her shoulders to the way she was standing, eyes looking at me intently.

Everyone was stunned but i am not surprised. Charlie gasps as she takes my hand in hers tagging me away from the crowd. My eyes are lost in hers, just like every movie everything stops. My heart is pounding but I can't quite know how i feel. As Charlie pushes me away from her i can see the disappointment all over her perfect features

Why she follow me? Why is she here? How did she know i was here? And most importantly what do i do now? Before my mind start overthink Charlie looks at me worried

"I am sorry this is all my fault i thought it was a celebrity i didn't knew it was your ex"

Right my ex. Is this the right word? I cant quite tell to be honest. We have been through so much that we didn't had time to label our relationship nor we had to. I felt anger when the painful pictures came back in my mind. If our relationship meant even a little bit to her why would she let us fall apart?

I frown and Charlie hugs me tight without another word. She always knew what to do and how to read my eyes. Her hand draws small circles on my back and i take a deep breath

"This wasn't your fault. I am surprised she even knows where Farmsvile is" my bitter chuckle fills the air "i always wanted to take her here, show her the real world without any masks covering our every decision"

Charlie listens to me like always. I miss Zoe though, she is as supportive as her but she always knew the New York world better than Charlie

"Why do you think she is trying to find you?"

I bite my lip in thought wanting the answer to this question but for now its unknown

"Well i blocked her number..her instagram, her Twitter account, her Facebook account her-"

"Woah there" Charlie says laughing "you are such a drama queen no wonder the big city treats you well"

"I wish it did, so many things changed so fast. The way i dress, the way i think, the way i make decisions, everything" i hide my face in my hands unable to get a hold of my emotions

"Well you better make a fast decision because miss Barbie is coming our way right now" i quickly fix my hair and wipe my tears not wanting Poppy to see how hurt i am

She approaches carefully and so sure of herself but knowing her i sense the hesitation in her expression.

"Could we have some privacy?" Poppy asks and Charlie gives me the "should i kill this bitch" look. I nod reassuring her its fine

"If you hurt her more i will throw you to the pigs" Charlie says giving Poppy a sharp look before walking away

Poppy mutters something under her breath, probably something like 'gross' or 'ew'. She is hesitant to sit next to me but I don't mind it. Taking a deep breath i try to not cry

"Look Bea, i won't waste your time because you already hate me but everything you saw has a story behind them" her expression changes, i am sure she replay the events and honestly so do i. The difference between us is that she feels sadness and i am blinded by rage

"Oh i am sure it does. I will make a guess and say that you used me all this time and i was just a puppet in your stupid game" i stand up unable to be close to her

"Oh please what would i gain from you? Being with a farmer girl isn't exactly appealing to any advantage" she stands up too, her eyes a wild fire ready to spread

A farmer girl..not appealing. Bravo Poppy, break my heart a little bit more

"Wow really? Last time i checked a farmer girl made you feel loved, a farmer girl took you to nice places and a farmer girl held you while you complained about your family!!" I raise my voice even though i have all the right reasons, still i can see how surprised she is by it

"I could have anyone i want if i snap my fingers but i tried to protect you i never wanted Carter-"

"Oh really?? The what the fuck is this pic Poppy?" I shove my phone in her face and i can see clearly her anger building in

"You don't understand, i am stupid i even came to this disgusting place to find you" she grabs her bag fixing her hair trying to make a dramatic exit

"Oh seriously? Well i am sorry this doesn't meet your standards i am sure you enjoy the city where nobody gives a shit about you or use you for your name" i grab my bag too and this time i walk away without looking back

Suddenly i stop my tracks but i don't turn around to face her "And to think i wanted to show you where i grew up" thats all i say before my tears fell from my eyes. I change my pace going faster in hope she would chase me but she doesn't.

The fresh air hits my face and i feel safe knowing nobody will judge me here. Walking a little further i finally arrive home where a familiar smell greets me. My mother is making my favourite food, father is feeding the chickens and Charlie waits for me on the porch

I put a fake smile on my face as i approach "well that went better than i thought" sarcasm was always my way to cope with my emotions

"You will share the details later right now we should eat the stew while its hot come on!" Charlie leads me inside the house and it feels good to be surrounded by welcoming faces

The day passes fast and i jump in my bed. I am so exhausted, who knew dealing with my emotions would be so tiring. Before i close my eyes i check my phone in hope Zoe texted me but i know she is busy. I close my eyes hoping the pain will stop and the new day will start better.

The sun hits my face and i groan in annoyance when i hear a knock at my door.

"Sweetheart should i come in?" My mother comes inside my room and i sit up trying to understand why she woke me up at..8:00 in the morning?? Ugh a girl cant get her beauty sleep

She sits beside me cupping my face in her hands. I missed her touch, she always made me feel better about myself and my problems no matter how sad i was feeling

"You have visitors outside waiting for you but i was adviced to not let you look through the window" my mother chuckles "now get ready they waited long enough"

I smile putting all my energy into getting out of my warm bed "fine fine only because i know Charlie will want to do something crazy"

I get dressed and run downstairs. I open the door only to be greeted by Charlie and.. Poppy??

"Goodmorning Princess i am sorry to wake you up so early but we have cows to milk" Charlie winks at me but my attention falls to Poppy who's wearing a simple T shirt and..boots? What is happening?

"Don't look at this city snob like that it took me 1 hour to convince her to wear these"

Poppy rolls her eyes but i laugh, its a once in a lifetime opportunity to see her this way, ah how i would love to take a picture and post it everywhere

"Show me your world" Poppy says giving me a small smile and for the first time i can see all the effort she put for me. I mean the outfit says it all, and the one and only Min SinClair will do farm work? Now thats some change

"I chuckle walking towards the farm "Well then show me how sorry you are" i say throwing a bucket at Poppy who looks at it in disgust

"I swear Hudges if you-" but Charlie push her in time and honestly this is the best sight ever. Poppy pouts but bites her tongue

"Lets go city girl show me what you got" Charlie and i laugh and surprisingly Poppy joins as she hides her face on my shoulder

"I missed you" she whispers only for me to hear and i smile letting my bad thoughts on the side for once seeing where this will take me. I hold her closer as we walk into the sunrise ready to share a piece of myself with her.

Tag list: @mvalentine @otakufangirl-12 @princessstellaris @indecisive-choices @i-loveeveryone @kiara-36 @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @ghalind @sergeant-pepper-loves-choices @dibberdipper @aiswood @alexlabhont @dopeyouth @tyrils-star @alexroyard @uselesslesbianfr @wolfietheduckyou @somin-yin

#queen b poppy #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #queen b #pb choices #choices fic #choices #pb #choices stories you play #playchoices #queen b mc

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familyagrestefanblog · 3 years

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Miraculous Shanghai theories and analysis

All those leaks and informations we got for the Shanghai special caught my interest BIG TIME and I wanted to post my theories and thoughts before it airs.

Just as a warning, I wrote all of this yesterday before the new promo poster got released this morning but fortunately it's doesn't disprove anything I'm about to say.

So let's go!

Let's start with my tamest theory of this post to clear the track for the batshit craziness that gonna follow: The Peacock miraculous will be involved in the Shanghai special as well.

This doesn't necessarily mean that we will see Mayura but at the very least the Peacock miraculous will be brought up.

I'm certain of this because of two things:

1. The specials logo

It's nothing wild. The yin-yang is obviously Ladybug and Chat Noir and when we cross out the other rainbow colors of the Renling promo pic we are left with two colors: Hawkmoths purple and Mayuras blue.

And 2. In a trailer we saw Gabriel in an old ruin which definitely could be the Guardian temple before Ladybug restores it in "Feast" (the special takes place somewhere in between s2 and s3 so that checks out).

Maybe he goes back to where they found their two miraculous and the Grimoire and then checks out the ruins (cuz honestly why not?) or maybe he is on his way to the creepy underground place. We will see.

Okay but now, let's start with the good stuff! :D

I'm putting it under "continue reading" because it's quite alot and it gets... specific lol

Let's continue with the Renlings and the fact that this time around we are not going to get a new Miracle Box but they are all combined into ONE Miraculous.

That may sounds incredibly overpowered and out of nowhere without context but I think I might now what we are looking at.

The Renlings were called the Kwamis "cousins" so we have to go back to the Chinese Zodiac our Miracle box is based on, because it isn't only made of 12 animals. Cause our 12 animals are also segmented under 8 guardians of the zodiac. And how many Renlings to we get? 8.

Four of these Zodiac guardians are assigned to 2 animals and the other four guard one.

They are segmented as the following:

Thousand Hands Guan Yin - Rat

Akasagarbha Bodhisattva - Ox & Tiger

Manjusri Bodhisattva- Rabbit

Samantabhadra Bodhisattva- Dragon & Snake

Mahasthamaprapta Bodhisattva- Horse

Vairochana Buddha - Goat & Monkey

Acalanatha - Rooster

Amitabha Buddha - Dog & pig

But let me get back to this later.

Unfortunately I legitimately can not explain why these particular animals were chosen to represent the guardians. All I can say is that my initial thought still holds up and the monkey, bear, tiger, dragon, mantis, snake, horse and hawk (look im calling it a hawk in this post idk) are all martial art styles. But they neither belong to one group nor is one of the groups complete.

Maybe I just missed something here (which is definitely possible) but I just can't find the reason for these animals for the guardians. Beside the Dragon as most important one of course, but that's a given.

Anyway, let's continue. A detail that can support my zodiac guardian theory is that while we can only see two animal circles in the promo pic entirely, one of the two has ONE DOT in its picture and the other one has TWO.

Signifying for how many Kwamis the one guardian is assigned to? Possibly.

The dragon in the middle is shown with 8 dots all together, that means is it fair to say that the dragon functions as the main guardian that combines them all. That explains why our new girl for the special has a 8-in-1 Miraculous, why her eyes change for each Renling and why she is trained so professionally.

We don't know yet why the Renlings are all put into one Miraculous, since they work differently from the Kwamis, but I have this thought that the Renlings (in their ONE necklace) were created because of what happened to the guardian temple almost 200 years ago.

Countless Miracle Boxes were lost that day and Fu's Box with the Ladybug and Cat were thought so as well. Possibly the Renlings were an attempt to recreate the powers of at the very least the lost zodiac Kwamis. The Dragon was made into the main guardian and is supposed to step in place for the LB and Cat as we can see on its different color coding echoing the yin-yang, but It obviously didn't work and the Renlings neither possess the same powers or can they be put in separate Miraculous nor is the Dragon a healthy replacement for the yin-yang.

But is was a desperate attempt in a situation that was believed to be lost and I find that thought exciting!

(Btw i have a similar theory for the Superheros from the New York special but that's a theory for another day)

Where to continue, where to continue?

Alright let's stay with the 8 Dragon dots because THOSE caught my interest in more than one way.

As I already said, I think the 4 white dots and 4 block ones stand for the 2 types of zodiac guardians, but now let's take a look at the animal circles surrounding the dragon.

We can see the Bear, the Hawk and a bit of another one between the Bear and Chat Noir in addition to the Dragon. These four circles have animal pictures that are completely colored in (just like the dragon brighter dots)

And now look closely at the animal circles around Chats head. Those are not colored in! Just like the other four Dragon dots. So isn't in interesting that they had our two leads basically hide those four particular animal circles? Almost as if there is a reason for this, huh?

And you know, I looked further and maybe I found something here. And for this let's take another look at the Renlings, shall we?

Four of these Renlings have something in common with our two main characters, can you guess what?

I'll give a hint: The eyes.

I compared all the promo picks we got from the Renlings and noticed that:

1. The snake and the horse have blue eyes like Marinette

2. The monkey has green eyes like Adrien

And 3. The Mantis is the only Renling with special eyes like Chat

The other 4 Renlings have brown eyes in different shades.

But this on it own isn't too exciting. So what if some Renlings share the same eyes as our leads? Well, would you believe it? When I filled in the placements of the other animals circles, through a shot we got in the leaks, I noticed that those 4 Renlings that shear their eyes with Marinette and Adrien are ALSO the 4 animal circles our leads just so happen to hide from us.

How interesting

But that not all I got. Not even CLOSE, I'm just getting started here!

Because not only do Marinettes Snake & Horse and Adriens Monkey & Mantis stand out here, oh no, it gets BETTER!

Now let's take the two promo pics from the Renlings we got where they are finished and colorized.

Did you know that both times they are put in the same formation, just with slightly swapped placement among the Renlings?

And once again here one could say "So what? They were lazy while designing the pics, that's it" but NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH hear me out!

Not only are the Renlings put both times into the same formation, the way they switched their placements isn't random at all:

1. Marinettes Snake and Horse stay both times on exactly the same spot.

2. The tiger and the bear switch places

3. So do the dragon and monkey

4. And the mantis and hawk.

The way the Renlings are shown to us on the promo pics is anything BUT random and that is something that will always get me interested! :D

But you know what? I'm still not done yet. Let's continue with this creepy ass stone door we see Gabriel at

Because as I mentioned, while Marinettes Snake and Horse stay unchanged in their formations, Adriens Monkey and Mantis not only do change places but they aren't paired with another either. So does that mean that Adriens guardian Renlings are just inconsistent? No, not at all. They just have a different meaning and place then Marinettes.

First of all: the Renlings special hair is bright green, just like the color of the tiger (a CAT) on the rainbow scale we got and Adriens/Chats + Monkey & Mantis eyes. And second: in the other promo pic the Renlings have a pink background, just like the rainbow scale color or the Mantis!

Coincidence? I don't care anymore, next point! :D

Because not only THAT but when we take a closer look at the creepy stone door we can make out the placement of every guardian animal as well. And MY, is this fascinating:

As the colors make it clear when you compare these guardian animal door placements to the rainbow scale from the promo pic, here Adriens Monkey & Mantis are in the right places but Marinettes animals are a bit off.

In fact. Everything about the placements of the animals (besides Adriens) are just a bit off.

- Marinettes animals and the bear are almost in the right place just mirror-reversed.

- The Tiger and the Hawk are one place too left.

- And the Dragon shouldn't be in the middle, it should take the place between Adriens animals but it was forced out of position to replace the yin-yang.

But taking the dragon out broke the balance of the animal circle. Everything here is slightly off by one point and that is much more significant than you would initially think. Because when you now turn the whole circle one quarter to the left (there is a reason for it, trust me) and put the dragon back in place then you will get a good part of the picture I've been looking for a long while.

What I'm showing you here are the 4 Chinese creatures of the cardinal directions and they are basically what I would expect to be on the upper layer of a Chinese Miracle box (I'll get to this on another day). And as you can see here, we are basically almost there aren't we?

The tiger of the West and Dragon of the east are in place and while the creature of the North is normally the turtle it is always accompanied by a snake, which is now on the upper place.

"but what about the bear? And a snake is NOT a turtle!" I'm getting to it, my goodness :/

Regarding the bear one thing needs to be said: it is definitely true, the bear is in the wrong place. I don't even know why there is a bear in this formation in the first place and it stuck out to me since day one. The creature of the south is a bird, the HAWK should be here.

But there is a difference between "this thing is in the wrong place and completely random wtf??" and "This thing is in the wrong place but I can see a pattern continuing from other formations that are off as well".

The bear is not only here, it's also:

- alongside the tiger (who is btw suspicious af as well) covering the center points from the Renlings formation that should belong to Adriens animals.

- is with Marinettes animals the only other one that is basically on it right place on the creepy stone door, just mirror-reversed.

-is the new "peak" of the zodiac guardian animal circles because moving the dragon out to the middle left the other ones off-balance and now its kinda tilted to the left. But when we look at the creepy door with not corrected animal placements we see that this was indeed the hawks place. And remember as well, the bear and the hawk are the only two animal circles we see in the promo pic besides the dragon

Meaning in short: That damn bear stole the hawks place and I need it to stop.

Which brings me to the turtle and a whole new can of worms (miraculous should pay me for this omfg...).

Because what if I tell you that the snake, who is normally just accompanying the turtle, being the creature of the north here instead of the turtle is not only "okay enough" it is actually the needed puzzle piece to connect this zodiac Renlings circle with the Chinese Miracle box in the design master Fu had it?

Let me explain

Do you remember when I started talking about the Renlings I said I would come back to the way the rl zodiac guardians are paired with the zodiac animals "later"? Well, later is NOW, because there is one more way those 8 dots from that damn dragon caught my interest and it also explains why I just turned the guardian stone circle one quarter to the left.

Because believe and behold, this is not the only place where things are "slightly off".

A while I started taking closer looks and research on the original miracle box design and the Kwami spirit circle we saw in "Sandboy".

I will try to not go into unnecessary details with this now because all of that needs its own post. I'm already going off the hooks with this one. But just like here I noticed with these two things rather quickly that "things are slightly off, but in a suspiciously systematic way".

Going straight ahead to the example I'm talking about, the order the 12 zodiac animals follow on the side of the box is straight up upside-down. The first zodiac animal is the rat (or mouse) and the last one the pig and YET in the box the rat is right at the bottom and the pig on the top.

This upside down arrangement of the animals results in the wrong animals being the 4 who have a guardian assigned for themselves

The four single miraculous in between the 4 directions are obviously the ones I'm talking about. Here they are Tiger, Snake, Pig, Monkey (I hope you are making a connection here) but that's wrong, as are the other 4x2 ones.

BUT

When we now flip it upside down again, having the rat start on the pigs place and the pig end on the rats, then things suddenly are correct.

Here the rl guardian pairings again:

Thousand Hands Guan Yin - Rat

Akasagarbha Bodhisattva - Ox & Tiger

Manjusri Bodhisattva- Rabbit

Samantabhadra Bodhisattva- Dragon & Snake

Mahasthamaprapta Bodhisattva- Horse

Vairochana Buddha - Goat & Monkey

Acalanatha - Rooster

Amitabha Buddha - Dog & pig

As you can see, now it's correct.

You may wonder what this has to do with the Dragon dots, so lets look at the Kwami spirit circle next.

I've been analyzing and taking this thing apart now for MONTHS now. And while I'm certainly having a blast, the fact that I now officially have an entire FOLDER at home dedicated to this thing alone is quite...

Bruh...

But thankfully we will really only need the basics for this theory here.

Through zooming in and watching the "Sandboy" Kwami spirit World scenes over and over again I was able to figure out the placement of each Kwami.

When you now follow the moons in the middle towards the Kwamis you will notice that only the moon at the top alignes with one and that's DUUSU. The other 4 miss the Kwamis just by a bit.

But remember what I said the entire time. Everything is just slightly off by ONE little factor but when we "fixed" that factor for the stone wall there was still something left that didn't fit. That's because not only are the Shanghai zodiac guardians structures off, it was built on top of a structure that is ALREADY slightly off by another factor!

Something is fundamentally WRONG with Kwami balance in the current ml universe and what I think happened to throw everything off is NOOROO.

Keeping this point short for everybodys sanity, in the french version of "Sandboy" we find out that Nooroo is having his 3500 cycle birthday and him being the Kwami which gets its birthday pointed out is no coincidence. (Guys please just go with me here, I really dont have the strenght to elaborate on this now as well)

So when Nooroo is the factor that brought imbalance to the Kwami system then how does the spirit circle look like WITHOUT Nooroo?

Now THIS is more like it!

Without Nooroo the size of the circle changes slightly all around and now the other 4 moons align with the Dragon, rat, chicken and horse.

And believe it or not, but take a guess what it looks like when we now highlight these 4 Kwamis in the arrangement of the 12 zodiac Kwamis both upside down and correct?

It's the 2 types of Dragon dots.

And let's take this further. When the 12 Zodiac Kwamis are upside down then so is obviously the entire upper layer of the Miracle box as well, which explains why, although the 5 Miraculous places around the yin-yang are based on the 5 chinese elements, the way they are arranged here is once again upside down.

Meaning the yin-yang is upside down as well, but not only that. I always found it weird that the yin-yang here is placed SIDEWAYS when this is not exactly the normal way of showing it.

So when we now turn the yin-yang a quarter to the left and take the 5 Miraculous surrounding it along, we might be closer to the puzzles solution. Because when we now take Nooroo out (as he wouldn't be there when things had gone right) then Fu's miracle box should have looked like this:

Notice 2 things here in particular:

1. Now the Turtle is at the top, which completes the connection between the Renlings Snake and the Kwamis Turtle to create the only creature of the 4 directions that is portrayed with one accompanied: the Turtle of the North.

And while I'm already at it, this is also the reason why Fu's/Ninos Miraculous is the only one that doesn't fit the hero color scheme when activated.

The Turtle of the North is colored BLACK and sometimes with additional white, just like the activated Miraculous.

And 2. Now after being mirror reversed and turned one quarter to the left the Ladybugs and Cats yin-yang isn't sideways anymore and looks EXACTLY like the yin-yang used in the Shanghai promo pictures. Almost like this is the way it is supposed to be or something.

Alright. Ive told you ALOT now but this is precisely the reason why I wanted to post this before the special airs. I'm definitely not entirely right with all of this, there is alot I haven't figured out about these things yet or simply haven't seen yet. What I just showed to you is not anywhere close to done so some questions are still left open.

I wanted to make another point about how the zodiac monkey, mantis and horse are the only 3 Renlings that do not have any symbol on their bodies and how this could connect to the object Hawkmoth has in that one leak

But even i think this is going to far now and I should wait until I watched the special xD

But my point in all of this (and everything I haven't even touched upon here but will in the future) is that everything in s1-s3 was influenced by this fundamental off-balance of the Kwami system that I think was caused with Nooroos creation. Which is very fitting for the Kwami of our main villain I may say. And the fact that these 4 miraculous are also somehow linked to the peacock out of all miraculous gives us an explanation for its villainous usage as well.

I think the Shanghai special will start the exploration of what happened by at least laying down and introducing the most important aspects of this particular topic.

To say that I am TRILLED for this special is quite the understatement and I'm gonna have a BLAST analysing the hell out of its lore!

So I guess there is only one thing left for me to say:

Miraculous crew

#miraculous #Ml theory #Ml Shanghai theory #Ml Shangai spoilers #Ml spoilers #Ml leaks #I'm thrilled but in so much pain right now wtf

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talesofsonicasura · 3 years

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Broken Toys

Chapter 1: Bleed, I must be dreaming

Tragedy can give rise to many things. Rumors, change, legends than just suffering and heartbreak. One such creation had very bizarre habits in the eyes of a particular noodle shop owner. Warning: minor blood, slightly description of death and injuries, extraction of harmful object(goes with the minor blood), mild swearing, and one super creepy child. Prologue

'The Great Megapolis Raceway Disaster. On April 7, 20XX, an semi-annual street race had their route improperly marked and blockaded. As a result, the racers end up turning down a street full of people instead of an empty road.

The result was all 12 cars crashing into various buildings and bystanders as they tried to come to a halt. 30 injured with 7 being the drivers and 25 dead as 10 victims had succumbed to their fatal injuries. Strangely, 10 year old Qi Xiaotion, a child who was hit directly by the lead racer's car, body has subsequently vanished.

Police haven't found the missing child or any possibility he could be alive except for the remains of a Monkey King Plush and what is assumed to be the child's right arm and lower torso. Search is ongoing and any future updates are unknown.'

This national incident was widespread throughout the community of Megapolis for two reasons. One was that some of the victims had been either high up or related to powerful corporations throughout the city. A few of the casualties were rumored to be descendants of both well known demons and even some celestials such as the Yellow Wind Demon but also rumored Jade Emperor for some of his soldiers were said to be seen in the city.

Some speculated this was a planned terrorist threat but no evidence had been found. The second reason is the creation of an urban legend known as the Broken Toy Phantom. On that very day, the body of a 10 year old child had gone missing. After that, sightings of a strange entity began to crop up.

Witnesses said it looked like a child but had cotton coming from open stitches and sharp blades out of their skin. Whenever the Broken Toy Phantom was spotted, the chance of a large monster in the form of a destroyed children's toy would be there. It is said that if you meant no harm should you encounter this phantom, it would leave you alone.

To try and harm the phantom was met with the claws of the broken toys that protected the child. Only warning one had if they were in the presence of the Broken Toy Phantom is the vague image of a monkey plush that held glowing red eyes.

Pigsy's Noodles

It was a warm early morning for the city of Megapolis. The last dredges of Spring were slowly dwindling as Summer was almost here. A time of year for the popular restaurant Pigsy's Noodles to begin changing their menu in preparation for the hottest season.

This modest establishment known for its delicious noodles, homely and comfortable atmosphere was also a precious treasure to the owner. A pig demon nearing his 40s named Pigsy, this short and stout man was not only the store's owner but also the cook.

Every dish he made was handcrafted with strong dedication and passionate based skill that could be felt through every bite. So imagine the 5'2 tall pink skinned and dark blue eyed demon's face when he went to open up his shop for today. Lying at the front by the side of the door was a child.

A young boy probably around 10 years old who sat around 3'7 in height. Long wild dark brown that haven't seem to be washed in days, soft tan skin with a large stitch under his right eye alongside some on his arms from the man could see, an orange shirt with violet sleeves and red collar that were stitched on, black pants with the bottom half blue jean material that were also stitched on, violet sandals made from leather, polyester and felt fabric sewn together, and the creepiest doll he ever seen cuddled in the boy's arms.

It looked like one of those very rare limited edition Monkey King collectible plushies that his friend had been ranting on about. The only difference was the gold thread eyes were replaced with bulging white plastic eyes and the flat face instead had a large openable muzzle bearing large white felt teeth.

Despite laying on solid concrete, the young boy was comfortably fast asleep almost if used to doing such a thing. A bit confused and worried, Pigsy placed his keys in the breast pocket of his white polo shirt then walked up to the child. For a second, he thought the toy's bulging eyes went from looking at the ground and by proxy his black dress shoes and black work pants to stare the pig demon straight in the face.

Whatever the case, it didn't matter as the child began to wake up. Chocolate brown eyes looking straight at Pigsy, a look of nervous embarrassment came across the boy's face. "Heh heh… Looks like I overslept a bit." In seconds the child had jumped to his feet faster than any normal person could.

The nameless boy clutched the ominous Monkey King plush closer and put on a nervous smile. "Sorry about that sir. I'll get out of your hands now so you can open up shop without an issue." And before Pigsy could say anything, the child skipped away into an alley just as quickly.

The restaurant owner could only frown before heading into the shop. Homeless people weren't anything new, especially in a big city like this, but it stung more when a child is forced to survive on the harsh streets. All Pigsy could do at the moment was wish the young man good luck.

Next time the middle aged pig demon saw the mysterious kid was once again by his restaurant. It was nearly closing time when the bell of the shop's door rang. The establishment isn't anything grand, a few booths, stools set up at the front near the register, some potted plants and pastel white walls decorated with a couple photos.

Pigsy had poked his head from the back of the door to see that very kid walk in warily. Once again, he felt the eyes of the kid's plush looking straight at him. The restaurant owner had a feeling the doll was magical as the kid spotted him in seconds.

"Hello there. Welcome to Pigsy's Noodles. Please sit down and I can get you a menu." Pigsy put on a soft smile since he really didn't want to scare off the poor kid. The unknown boy nodded before sitting himself at one of the bar's stools.

When the restaurant owner had come back with a menu in hand, the kid's Monkey King plush was sitting on the table almost perfectly. By perfectly it meant that the doll didn't slouch and sat straight with the same dexterity of a living being.

Pigsy shrugged the oddness off and gave the kid his menu. "How are you doing today?" The restaurant owner's question had the boy look a bit from his menu. Shrugging at the inquiry, the child answered. "I'm doing fine. May I have a bowl of chicken lo mein please?"

Pigsy didn't take the menu just yet but had gone to the back to fix the boy's food. As he made the order, the demon could hear his customer talk from outside the kitchen. Or sing to be more accurate. "An old toy sat on the desk watching the day go by. Missing cotton, tons of stitches, a cherished plaything looked to the sky. The toy said: I may be damaged but I am beloved. Even broken toys like me can be loved."

The restaurant owner paused for a moment. He never heard a nursery rhyme like that before. It was strange but in an endearing sort of way. Pigsy had come back with the kid's bowl of lo mein to see the child was shuffling a deck of cards in his hand.

The man didn't recognize the brand or had a good chance to look when the boy had placed them in a deck case and deposited it into a sewed-in pocket. "One fresh bowl of chicken lo mein, enjoy kid." Rubbing his hands happily, the child grabbed a pair of chopsticks and dug into his food.

Pigsy cleaned up the remaining dishes while his young customer ate his food in silence. Once the demon had come back, the child and plush were suddenly gone. Not even the doorbell had moved an inch almost if the boy just vanished. In his place was some money alongside a note.

"Thank you for the meal, it was delicious. Have a good night and sorry for sleeping in front of your shop the other day. From MK and my little buddy Guarn." After reading the note, the restaurant owner had softly smiled before taking both the paper and cash left behind.

It was the only beginning of a MK's nightly visits. Near closing time, Pigsy was greeted by the child and his peculiar plush. At first, the boy wasn't much of a conversationalist. Something worrying since most kids the pig demon saw weren't this quiet even around strangers.

MK was also never without his plush Guarn. Pigsy had a suspicion that the plush was magical as he always felt that those plastic eyes were very aware of their surroundings. Whenever the restaurant owner felt like the doll was watching him out of the boy's view, MK seemed to know his presence. Almost like a separate pair of eyes.

He didn't know the child's situation other than homelessness and maybe magical plush but he had a feeling there was more to it. MK will open up when he is ready and Pigsy was a patient person. The demon did add some extra portions to the young man's bowl though.

A growing child needed proper nutrition or their growth would be stunted. He may be rough but the restaurant owner was far from heartless. In less than two weeks, MK began to open up more. That was the same time one of his regulars had also come back.

This 'customer' was one of his human friends known as Tang. A raven haired man who considered himself a scholar of sorts, and didn't really pay for the noodles he kept eating. Normally Pigsy would chase any dine and dashers out of his establishment but Tang was someone he could trust.

The scholar had gotten him out of some nasty jams in the past and someone he could talk to whenever the demon's stress reached its peak. Now you can imagine Pigsy's surprise when he saw Tang chatting animatedly with MK. The child who rarely talked was now chatting the spectacle raven's ear off.

Once again, the feeling of the Monkey King plush or Guarn came apparent as the child faced the restaurant owner with a sheepish grin. "Hey Pigsy, I didn't know you had a kid." That one sentence from Tang had both the demon and kid sputtering in seconds.

Between the two of them, MK had found his words. "No Mr Tang. Mr Pigsy is just a very nice man who gives me extra food when he thinks I haven't noticed. Plus, I'm pretty sure he hasn't filed any adoption papers yet." MK said, that sheepish grin becoming mischievous as he made Guarn blow a kiss.

The scholar laughed at the restaurant owner's further flustering face almost if the whole thing was planned. Something that was plausible considering this was Tang of all people. "Very funny you little minxes. What were you guys even talking about since MK doesn't really talk much around me?"

Pigsy's question was met with the little boy shaking his head. "I didn't want to bother you since you were probably tired and closing up shop. Mr Tang and I were talking about different legends like the Monkey King for one." The pig demon blinked his eyes in surprise.

So the reason MK was so quiet is because the kid didn't want to bother him? How considerate. "I appreciate your concern but you don't have to be silent all the time. Whatever topic or thing that pops in your head, you can talk about it. Might not always answer but that doesn't mean I'm not listening." Pigsy explained, the child nodding thankfully at his words.

That was one mystery about the kid out of the way. Only for Tang to bring up another. "Do you know that little MK here is an incredible craftsman? Show him that design you were working on." Smiling, the kid pulled something out of his pockets.

It was an incomplete small red tapestry depicting a peach tree that sat above a collection of clouds. The restaurant owner could only gawk at the masterful detail and skill that could easily be seen throughout the work. Every detail was as accurate as a photograph and not a single thread out of place.

"Holy moly kid! You made this?! I'm pretty sure you just put every seamstress from the Celestial Realm to shame." MK beamed happily at the restaurant owner's compliment. The kid was definitely a hard worker and that showed through his craft.

Even though culinary and weaving were different crafts, Pigsy could see the hard work, skill and dedication of a fellow artisan. "Thank you! I also make clothing and toys in my spare time. A good way to earn money so I can enjoy more of your tasty food."

From seeing the tapestry alone, both adults had a feeling that MK's clothing and dolls were made with equal skill. It did raise a question though. "Is your outfit like a fashion statement then?" Tang gestured to the boy's patchwork clothing.

Pigsy hit the scholar on the elbow for the offhanded inquiry but the child didn't seem bothered. "It actually is. You see I make all my stuff from mostly scraps rather than fresh materials. 'One man's trash is another man's treasure' type of ideology. Also recycles a lot of stuff people throw away that can still be used." MK flashed them a big toothy smile alongside his explanation.

Both men hummed at the answer. Like any big city, Megapolis had an issue with littering so the place was practically a gold mine for crafty people such as the kid. "Let me take your guys' order, and MK… you don't have to come by so late all the time. Come whenever you can and if anyone gives you a problem then I'll handle it."

Pigsy could only smile at the ecstatic look in the kid's eyes before the child ran over to both men. After that particular night, MK began visiting sometimes around mid day. On occasion, the boy would bring some of the crafts that he made.

Beautiful red ribbons decorated with gold dragons, a jade green cheongsam that held a silver depiction of a nine tailed fox, some plushies consisting of a gray rat with a heart in its paws, an ornate doll that wore a beautiful crimson Chinese dress and a white rabbit with a mallet used to make moon cakes.

Every piece was extremely well made alongside a story that MK would share with Pigsy or Tang. The rat plush beared the story of a fallen rat who was given a chance to relive their last day, the ribbons were of two dragons that strive to be with each other for eternity, and cheongsam was for a prince who escaped the life of royalty to live with a earnest farmhand that won his heart.

It only made both adults wonder how a talented kind child like MK ended up living on the streets by their lonesome. On a warm summer night, Pigsy was cleaning the front of the shop. The little boy wanted to help out around the restaurant so the demon let him wash the dirty dishes. Tang was also in the shop regalling a particular urban legend around Megapolis: the Broken Toy Phantom.

"-the Broken Toy Phantom must be a type of poltergeist. A very rare occurrence that poltergeists would roam with their haunted possession but the information all leads up. I even speculate that the phantom could have been brought to life after the Great Megapolis Raceway Disaster." Pigsy kept quiet while cleaning the tables but listened to the scholar's theory tangent.

The restaurant door suddenly opened with a loud slam, the restaurant owner turned around to be met with a gun aimed at his head. Pigsy didn't have to look to know that Tang had his hands up in the air since the scholar was now silent. Of course the pig demon needed a robbery once in his life.

From the looks of it, there were only three armed robbers with two being men and one woman. A white deer mask, black ski mask, and a turban paired alongside a thick bandana hid their identities. Right now Pigsy was praying to Guanyin that they don't find MK.

The kid wouldn't be able to survive a bullet should these bastards get trigger happy. "Alright, you two fuckers better listen to our demands right now. Give us everything you own and Porky here can open the register." Spoke the deer masked robber, poking the barrel of the gun to the restaurant owner's back.

Reluctantly Pigsy walked over to the register and took out the key. He was about to open up when… BANG! Horrified blue eyes watched as Tang fell to his knees, blood pouring from a bullet hole in his leg. The pig demon saw Tang's phone on the ground before the turban wearing robber stomped it to pieces.

"Call for help again then the next shot will go through your head, Four Eyes." Spoke the black ski mask who cocked his gun to reinforce the threat. Pigsy wanted to run over to Tang, treat his wound or help him up. However, he couldn't unless both of them were looking to get shot.

And the two hostages felt their hearts drop upon one single sound. "Excuse me." Standing on top of the bar table was little MK. Strangely, Guarn wasn't in the kid's hands as both were crossed against his chest. A large frown and judging chocolate eyes of the unnaturally calm child were aimed at the three robbers.

"What are you doing to Mr Tang and Mr Pigsy?" MK's once kind lively voice was now dead and cold like a grave. Neither the scholar or restaurant owner couldn't help feeling unnerved at the sudden change in the kid. It felt so wrong. Something that none of the robbers had noticed.

"It's a robbery little dipshit!" A haunting laugh came out of the kid, MK's eyes were alight in a twisted glee paired alongside a malevolent smile presenting unnaturally sharp teeth. "I know what a robbery is, you sad excuse of human scum. What I'm asking is why none of you haven't left yet?"

All three of the criminals were caught off guard by the little boy's taunt. None of them felt the child's ominous aura unlike Pigsy and Tang. What stood before them wasn't the same little boy that they've gotten to know over the past two months.

This was Death in the form of a 10 year old kid. "You barely have any mercy from me after this whore shot my friend in the leg. Lucky you that I was in a good mood, leave now or suffer the consequences. Know that you only have one chance between all three of ya cowardly worms!"

Offended by MK's threat, one of the robbers, the turban-wearing woman, aimed her weapon at the child. "Say goodnight brat! You have no power over us! That petty threat will be your last!" Finger on the trigger as she was ready to shoot the boy.

MK, still unfazed, shook his head almost if he was disappointed at the woman's choice. Then his smile grew so wide that it nearly tore the sides of his mouth, an insane look burned in now orangish brown orbs. "I warned ya. Davy Jones." With no warning, two long violet tentacles shot out from the darkness behind MK.

Both appendages wrapped around the woman and the man who shot Tang as the third deer mask robber watched in growing horror at what stood before them. Standing behind the 10 year old with two of the robbers wrapped in thick violet tentacles was a giant 15 ft violet plush squid.

It's squid capped head had four of those cap ridges with red stripes but also three mini tomahawk blades on the center top, black squid eyes that positioned on the sides of the mouth which held sharp teeth and a pair of glowing magenta eyes within the darkness, six small light cyan underside violet tentacle bearing some tomahawk blades, and two triple sized tentacles that had a black armband bearing a white skull n bones on the larger right.

"YARRRG! Those who dare trifle with Captain MK shall face the blades of Davy Jones!" A gruff, lightly deep, and growlish male voice ripped the monstrous toy's open mouth. Both caught robbers let out a strangled cry from the tentacles tightening their grip.

Immediately the remaining robber quickly went to shoot the monster plush or MK only for his weapon to be snatched from his hand's grip. Deer mask slowly looked down at the floor to see his gun in the paws of a particular bug eyed Monkey King plush.

Tang, Pigsy and the robbers saw a pair of glowing red eyes stare at them from within the small toy's mouth. Guarn then bit into the barrel of the weapon, felt teeth easily tearing through the metal and plastic like a hot knife against butter.

The immense shock nearly made the scholar and restaurant owner almost miss MK delivering a jump kick to the deer masked robber. Enough strength behind the blow to not only shatter the robber's mask but knock em fully unconscious. Davy Jones tightened his grip further until the two snared robbers fell limp like their comrade.

Pigsy immediately ran over to Tang once knowing they were now safe. The little boy followed suit, his ominous aura gone while the large plush kraken harshly dropped the two robbers. "Mr Tang, please bite on this while I get the bullet out." MK handed the raven a red plush oven cloth.

Pigsy had to put the rag in the scholar's mouth as he was too busy staring in shock at MK's fingers. The index and ring fingers of the boy's hands were torn apart by black claws growing from inside. Tang let out a harsh muffled scream when those sharp obsidian claws dug into the wound.

After a few seconds, MK pulled out the bloody bullet. He dropped it to the ground so he could pull out a sewing kit and needle. "I'm guessing you're the Broken Toy Phantom." Pigsy spoke for Tang while the boy began to sew the wound close. The little brunette merely nodded as he thread the needle through the scholar's leg.

"Yep! Although I'm not really a poltergeist, just a newly minted toy demon. Didn't think I had to bring out any of my Frightfur family so soon. Honestly, I hope that I had more time to figure out how to introduce you guys." MK tore the thread off the needle once it was sewn tightly.

Neither adult said a word since the kid did have a point. A giant plush kraken bearing razor sharp teeth and tentacles that ended with large tomahawks wasn't exactly friendly looking. Or the implications that MK had more than one of these peculiar beings.

Both men's thoughts on the subject were derailed in surprise when the sewed up bullet wound shrunk until unmarred skin was left. "Healing Suture Thread, perfect for minor to serious injuries. It works on humans too rather than just Frightfurs, Fluffals or Edge Imps." The little boy turned to see Davy Jones finish tying up the three attempted robbers.

Guarn waddled over to the brunette, climbing up the kid's clothes then situated itself on MK's shoulder. Tang took the rag out of his mouth and suddenly hugged the toy demon much to the latter's surprise. "We're just glad you're okay. You gave us both a heart attack back there with that stunt."

Davy Jones let out a hearty laugh from the flustered look on his smaller companion's face. Pigsy couldn't help the chuckle that came out of his throat to the little boy's further surprise. Soon enough, MK found himself laughing with them as he hugged the scholar back.

If this was a dream, then he didn't want to wake up. Moments like this should last as long as they can.

And that's it! MK has officially met Pigsy and Tang. I can say that the MK you are seeing at the moment...is more than he seems to be. Something that will be looked over in the next chapter.

Tang and Pigsy are going to take more fatherly roles involving our newly minted toy demon. A factor being MK's age and situation when they first met.

MK will be 21 when I get into the LMK series and there will be changes to particular episodes or plot pilots. Any major changes will have the episode title be replaced with a song.

Now people have been wondering MK's actual age in canon out of general curiosity and a certain pairing called Peachnoodles for certain artists and writers have been frowned upon. The driving law in China requires the person to be 19 in order to legally drive, so MK has to be 19 or a bit older in canon.

I hope this clears stuff up for ya curious folk.

The song used for this chapter is 'Bleed, I must be Dreaming' by Evanescence. Actually thought of using Evanescence's Imaginary but this felt more suited.

Will be going over the remaining Fluffals before we reach the next chapter for Broken Toys! Stove Novas next chapter is in the review stage so be on the lookout for that next! I'll see you guys back at Megapolis.

Song used👇

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nerdyfangirl67 · 4 years

Text

Through the Night - Criminal Minds Imagine

Pairing: Hotch x reader

Warning: language, intense torture, inflicted pain, violence, anxiety,

Word count: 2,300

Imagine being taken by an unsub and Hotch finding you and not wanting to leave your side.

You weren’t really sure if you were conscious or not. The lack of sight and sound made you believe not, but the intense pain coursing through your body told you otherwise. Your thoughts were fuzzy, making it hard to think. You tried several times to get up but something was holding you down. And you could easily feel the gag in your mouth, preventing you from making any sound.

Nothing. Nothing happened for a long time. The inability to use most of your senses was preventing you from figuring out anything about where you were. After experiencing intense feelings of anger, fear, and frustration, all you felt now was tired.

You may have fallen asleep because you were jerked out of your sensory deprivation by a sudden light. Pain erupted in your head and you blinked your eyes closed at the searing, white intensity.

A hand hit your face, hard. “Open your damn eyes.” The voice was deep and gravelly.

You forced your eyes open and you took in the man before you. It was definitely the unsub of the case you and the team were working. His brown eyes, unfocused and crazed, were studying you. His black hair was unkempt and he was sporting a beard, albeit one only a few days old. He smiled at you, a wild gleam in his eyes as he removed your gag.

“Tell me about your team.” He demanded forcibly. You remained silent, refusing to share anything about those you considered your family. He slapped you again, causing your head to spin and fog up your thoughts. You clenched your jaw tight and said nothing. You were going to suppress the pain for as long as possible, to keep from giving the unsub the satisfaction of hearing you scream.

“Okay, if that is how you want to play it. I sure have a few tools I have been wanting to try out.” He disappeared out of sight. You used that moment to try and remember what happened and if your team knew where you were. Try as you may, you couldn’t recall much of anything.

The unsub, whose name was John or James or something fairly similar, strolled easily back into the room, carrying a large toolbox with him. You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to watch as he pulled out the tool that would undoubtedly inflict a lot of pain on you.

“Last chance missy. You could save yourself a lot of pain.” He said sadistically.

You opened your mouth as if to speak, waiting for him to lean in before spitting in his face. His features were quickly marred as signs of intense anger overtook his face.

He grabbed a pair of needle-nose pliers, moving quickly towards your hand. You tightened your hand up in a fist but swiftly relaxed it as he slammed the pliers down on your hand. You closed your eyes and turned your head away. A horrific, burning pain exploded from your fingers. You didn’t have to see what he was doing to know he was violently removing your fingernails. It wasn’t long before you were screaming out in pain.

He didn’t stop there though. He replaced his pliers with a new tool, one you quickly learned was a hammer, and turned his attention to your other hand. He put the time in making sure that each of your fingers was broken before bringing the hammer down hard on the back of your hand.

You passed out from the pain shortly after that, drifting in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he would bring you back with a bucket of cold water thrown in your face and others he would leave you be. Each time he demanded the same thing, “Tell me about your team.” You never said a word, the only vocalization you made were the screams of agony and whimpers of pain.

You couldn’t guess how long you had been there, tied to a chair, but you knew it wouldn’t be much longer. Either the team would find you or you would die, simple as that.

You didn’t have much left in you to fight and the only thing keeping you from giving up was the fact that you never told Aaron how you felt about him. After years of loving him silently, you had been ready to tell him. And you didn’t want to go, not knowing if there had been a future for the two of you.

A commotion sounded upstairs, followed quickly by a gunshot. Fear took hold and you tried desperately to free yourself of the gag in your mouth, the one the unsub replaced every time he finished with you. You were unsuccessful in your attempts to remove it and knew that all you could do was wait.

Heavy black boots appeared on the steps, followed quickly by a pair of jean-clad legs, a muscular torso, and finally a face. You cried out, as best you could, in relief and exhaustion when you saw it was Morgan. He was followed by Reid and Rossi. Morgan continued to clear the room, a basement of some sort, as Reid and Rossi moved straight towards you. You relaxed just knowing it was them.

They quickly removed the gag and restraints; the entire time Reid spoke softly to you. Morgan, who had moved over to you, must have sensed your fatigue and pain because he gently said “Baby girl, I’m gonna pick you up” before slowly sweeping you into his arms. Pain exploded from many different places in your body and you were unable to suppress a cry.

You don’t remember much after that. A short moment in the ambulance of a familiar face leaning towards you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, a brief flash of being surrounded by doctors in a bright room, and then darkness.

The darkness was soothing, gentle, and quiet. You were comfortable staying there for a long time. It was only when a nagging sound and returning feelings in your body overtook the sweet darkness that you realized you were indeed alive. Several times you had been aware of your surroundings, of JJ talking rapidly on the phone, of Reid reading out loud, of Morgan chattering loudly, of Garcia telling you all about her day, but most importantly of Aaron talking, telling you about little, unimportant things and about how sorry he was.

Finally, after what felt like ages, you were able to pull yourself away from the darkness. It was quiet and the only thing you felt was someone holding your hand. You opened your eyes and was greeted with semi-darkness. You turned slightly to the right and noticed Aaron was holding your hand. He was leaning back in one of the hospital chairs, legs sprawled out in front of him and head resting in a very uncomfortable looking position.

“Aaron?” You croaked, unsure if he was asleep or not. Not a second after you had pathetically uttered his name, was he up and leaning towards you.

His face lit up with a smile, seeing you were awake. He grabbed a cup that had been sitting beside the bed and helped you hold the cup as you greedily drank the water.

“How’s your pain?” Aaron asked after you had settled back down into the pillows.

“I’ve definitely felt better, that’s for sure.” You whispered, already tired from the effort it had taken to get a drink.

Aaron immediately pressed the call button and a nurse ran in, checking your IV and administering some pain meds before flitting back out of the room. Soon you were pulled back into your drugged darkness.

Days passed in a similar fashion. Most of the time Aaron was at your side. There were a few times that Morgan or Rossi had been beside you when you had awakened. Eventually, you found out the extent of your injuries, but not from Aaron. He had refused to tell you anything about the unsub that had taken you or what they could piece together about what happened.

You learned that you had some brain swelling, bad enough that it required surgery. One of your hand was so badly broken that it needed reconstructive surgery once the swelling receded, you had a few broken ribs and there were even a few burns littering your body. Aside from these injuries, your body was also covered in bruises and welts.

You had trouble sleeping, which led to Aaron spending many a night in the uncomfortable hospital chair, gripping your hand and talking to you. There were even times when you just laid in the hospital bed, listening to Aaron talk.

It was a month before the hospital felt that you were well enough to leave, but they strongly suggested you stay with someone for another month at least. This bit of information threw you for a loop because you were alone in DC. Both your parents had passed years ago and the only living relative you knew of, an aunt in California, was in a retirement facility.

Each one of the team members jumped at the chance to stay with you. Penelope was thrilled at the idea of having a month-long sleepover, Reid wanted to “educate you” in the ways of Star Trek and classic literature, Rossi wanted to use you a guinea pig for his recipes, and Morgan wanted someone who would jam to his beats, and maybe even play a video game or two with him. Seeing how excited the team was to be there for you made your heart squeeze painfully at the thought of how close you had gotten to losing them.

You couldn’t say no to any of them and was ready to just suggest a rotating schedule when Aaron spoke up. “She is staying with me.” He said it with such finality that no one questioned him. You had looked at him questioningly but hadn’t argued.

It was less than an hour later that you found yourself staring at the front door to Aaron’s apartment.

“Are you sure you want me in your space? I mean, I’m sure Penelope would be fine with staying over.” You really doubted that Aaron would feel comfortable with you in his private space. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He replied, staring deep into your Y/E/C eyes. You felt a blush bloom on your face, and had glanced down at your feet in embarrassment.

A hand tilted your face up again. “Really Y/N. I want you here.” He spoke softly, a thumb gently moving back and forth along your jaw.

The door flew open, and Aaron jerked his hand away from your face. Jack stood in front of you both, beaming up at you.

“Hi Y/N. I’m so excited you are here. Want to come to see my legos?” His brimming excitement pulled a laugh from your chest. You walked with Jack to his room, letting him tell you all about his legos.

The rest of the day passed swiftly after that. Aaron had shown you to his guest room and had helped you put away some of your things. You hadn’t worried about sleep until you had gone to your bedroom for the evening.

Once you were alone, laying on your bed, you felt crushing anxiety grip your chest. You had left the lamp on alongside your bed but was freaked out enough to carry a blanket and pillow away from the bed, which was alongside the window, to the other side of the room. You couldn’t remember much of what happened, for that you were grateful, but being alone since leaving the hospital had become something you dreaded. You knew Aaron would help you if you asked but he had already been with you through so much, giving up much of his time to be with you. You tried to get comfortable and even fell into a fitful sleep. You were awoken a while later to hand on your shoulder, to which you screamed and kicked forward repeatedly.

Aaron’s soothing voice reached your ears. “Hey, hey. It’s just me, Aaron. You’re okay Y/N. You’re okay.” You took a deep breath, your wide eyes finding Aaron’s. A whimper escaped your lips and Aaron was pulling you into a hug. You let go, crying into his shoulder as he whispered into your ear.

After a while you managed to calm down, taking a deep breath and leaning back from Aaron’s chest. “I’m sorry.” You murmured, your gaze now on your lap. Aaron gently guided your face until you were looking at him again.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He whispered. “I came in here because you sounded upset like you were having a nightmare.” “Aaron, I…” You paused trying to find the words, looking deep into his warm brown eyes. “I want to thank you for everything you have done for me.” He started to speak but you placed a soft finger over his lips.

“I don’t remember much about what happened, but I do remember that the only thing that kept me going, when I felt like giving up, was knowing that I needed to come back to you. I needed to tell you… I needed to tell you that I love you.” You had somehow found the courage to tell him the secret you had been keeping for months, years even.

You watched as shock crossed his face, and then happiness take over. He pulled you close again, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I love you too Y/N. I love you too.”

You knew you had a long way to go before you ever felt normal again, but knowing that Aaron would be by your side through it all made you believe you could do it.

#aaron hotchner #Hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #fandom #reader insert #CM x reader #criminal minds reader #criminal minds reader insert #you #hotch x you #imagine

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visionsdiary · 3 years

Text

It is tragic. The story. It did not have the outcome one would hope, there is no happily ever after just a story, a moment for a while where they existed, where their worlds collided and then burned in passion, in truth, and eventually ash then nothing.

She was to be crowned Queen though every bit of her screamed to run away. To beg on her knees to her mother to give her more time. More time, more experience. She wasn't ready, she couldn't be.

She doesn't have much of a choice, it's to happen in only 3 days, where she will be forced a responsibility she wants nothing to do with. She was indeed every bit of a coward for running, for hopping on her horse and racing through the tall trees of her homeland.

Where seasons are experienced its fullest. Where the mist is thick and the magic thrums through every tree, every rock, and river. She welcomed it the thrumming like drums of the music they'll play at festivals. She let her tears fall freely and her scream ring like thunder spoking all birds nearby.

How is she to run a kingdom? Her kingdom? She has yet to face battle. Yet to make treaties, yet to lead anything in her life, but she is expected to lead a kingdom when she can barely lead a rabbit to a trap.

Or barely see the one she led herself into. It wasn't meant for her in her defense. It was meant for something else, something she only heard about in stories from the sailors, stories from warriors who've traveled farther than the forest she has stuck to most of her life.

A dragon. They had gone extinct or so she was told. She has never seen one up close before. It was in a trap right next to hers tied up in a net that made the creature roar in fear. It was not as big as she thought one would be. It was bigger than her but not by much. Its scales were a pattern of circles, ombre of white and orange with thorns running down its back.

"What do we have here?"

A man caked in leather saunters toward her and the struggling dragon. His face was covered in rags only allowing her to see his eyes, dark and daring. How is she going to explain this one to her parents?

"It seems we've captured a slave," His hand reached through the hold gripping her chin and turning her side to side, "A beauty you are. I'm sure you'll catch a fine price."

Ripping from his hold she reared back and spat in his face.

"Ye might want to re-think this one. My father will tear you to piece."

"Is that right? And who are you?"

"Princess Merida of DunBroch,"

He reared back and laughed. "Looks like we are in the presence of Royalty fellas," Laughter surrounds her on all sides. There were more than she first believed, or maybe the laughter just echoed off the trees. This thought was soon disregarded as men stepped from the treeline one by one. Yep defiantly more.

"I-I'm serious. You wouldn't want a kingdom on you do you?"

"They'll have to find us first." She trembled.

That was only a few months ago and now she sat in this cage, skinny, starved but her fire simmered under the surface. She will escape. She must. The dragon that was trapped with her grumbled, catching the piece of fish Merida snuck from the guards.

She pets her scaly friend, who purred in response. "Don't worry Sylva. We'll get out of here I swear it."

Their cages were right next to each other. An only arm's length away from each other, Sylva was the only friend she had here. An ally she was happy to have. It was night and they still sailed toward the sanctuary as it was called. In other cages many other dragons stayed locked up, barely fed.

Though she felt bad for them it wasn't the time to think of anyone else. She gets her and her friend out first and maybe if she could gather the firepower she'll return and free the rest. The guards light the last of the lanterns, taking their stations around the ship.

"In an hour or so they'll nod off to sleep."

She was only allowed out as entertainment. Her singing is what saved her so far and she served the ones who took her before she was locked up once more but her plan was sent the moment they gave her access to their water and wine.

"I put your venom in their drinks, just enough to put them to sleep, and then we'll be home free." She was hopeful and when the hour had passed she took her sharp piece of metal that broke off from her cage. She had sharpened in the past few months and hoped this would work.

She picked at the lock, jiggling it side to side, up and down until she heard a click and the cage door squeaked open. She celebrated dancing and jumping with silent whispers of triumph. She then went to unlock her dragon's cage when she heard a noise.

She paused, pressing herself against the other side of the cage, and watched as a man wielding a flaming sword crept by the cages of the dragons. He was covered in what she assumed was armor, a fabric she's never seen before. His hand rose and made signals to no one she could see.

She watched in wonder as they let out the dragons and they flew off. She backed away as the man got closer to her dragon's cage hitting a stray bowl. It rolled, tumbled down some stairs alerting the man. He sneaked past the cage and she looked around for any weapon.

Her eyes landed on one of the spears they used on the dragons and picked it up. It was heavier than she thought but it didn't matter she needs to fight.

"D-Don't ye come any closer."

He paused for a moment, his sword still drawn and still on fire. She wondered what she must look like. Dirty, torn, and starved. Disgusting. It made her confidence waiver, her mother would have thrown a fit if she was here, appearance is part of ruling she'd say.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"I heard that before" She shuddered at the memory. Truly men were vile pigs taking what they wanted without a care in the world.

"Chief!" Someone whispered.

He held out a hand stopping his companions in their tracks.

Though she'd never admitted it she trembled, once again outnumbered, and wondered if this group could be any less dangerous than the one she'd been sailing with. He stabbed the sword into the ground, the fire remains just on the sword.

'Does he have magic?' She wandered. If he did then it made sense why he stop the others. He doesn't need them to kill her.

She swung the spear in a warning. "I swear if ye come any closer, I'll cut ya."

He puts his hands up in surrender for a moment she thought he mocked her but he raised them higher to his helmet. He took it off and she was met with green eyes.

He was tall, slender. His auburn hair swayed and she could see the braids in the back. She looked down at his leg and saw that he was missing one, or half of one. It reminded her of her father. Her father. Tears weld up in her eyes. She's going home even if it means getting past this stranger.

Resolve hardened she didn't let the tears spill though she was sure he could see them.

"Hey," His voice was soft as if he was trying to tame a wild animal. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You can't promise me that nor will I believe it." She looks around for an escape. She could swim, take their boat since they must have come from somewhere. Then they will have to deal with this pack of beasts instead of her. Or- Sylva.

She looked to the sky wondering if her friend left, she was no longer in her cage. His friends made sure of that but she's still unable to spot them in the sky.

"Hiccup, we have to hurry." One perked up. Merida looked to her right where one of them was sleeping only feet away, he began to stir and grumble. His friend was right.

"We can't just leave her here." He whispered back.

He turned back to Merida. "Come with us. I promise we'll take you home." He held his hand out. An offering, an extension. More men started to stir, waking up and realizing they'd been robbed.

"Hey!" One shouted. They were found out.

Them or him. She looked back up to the sky and whistled. Nothing. Her chest squeezed at the betrayal but she understood all the same. She looked back to the green eye man and sighed.

"Don't touch me." She warned before hitting the guard that ran after her. He flew overboard screaming as he fell into the water.

The man grabbed his sword putting back on his mask.

With them, she fled and it was that decision that started the sewing of their story.

Their tragedy.

#mericcup #love #tragic #family #books #ships #dragons #hiccup #big four #astrid #fanfic #original #life #httyd #brave #disney #IdonotOwnsomecharacters #jelsa4life #merida dunbroch

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sapphirecobalt-1 · 3 years

Note

“The paint’s supposed to go where?” destiel, for the prompts! <3

The paint’s supposed to go where?” + Destiel, courtesy of @contemplativepancakes. Thank you so much for your patience <3

Rated M(ish). 2.5k

"The paint's supposed to go where?" Dean asks, shooting Cas a look that's half confused, half incredulous, and half horrified, which is one too many halves but Dean's never been good enough at math to care, especially not when his roommate of several years is staring at him like he’s stupid but doesn’t want to say anything out of misplaced politeness (it’s okay, Cas, Dean knows he’s an idiot, no need to sugar coat it).

Cas scrunches up his brows and it’s clear as day he’s confused about Dean’s confusion. "On...your...body?" He asks more than says, speaking slowly and it's a testament to how well Dean knows his best friend that he understands the meaning behind Cas' words. Is this okay? Are you sure you want to do this?

Dean glances back and forth between Cas and the paintbrush in his hand. “I thought you wanted to paint me?” he asks, uncertainty coloring his tone.

“No, I asked if I could paint on you.” Cas clarifies.

Dean doesn’t know jack shit about art, it’s why he’s a STEM major, but now he’s starting to wonder if he shouldn’t do that either, because really, who in their right mind would trust a person who can’t tell the difference between painting someone and painting on someone with an electrical system? Not Dean, that’s for damn sure.

“You want to...paint on me?” Dean repeats back to him, slowly, and as an added bonus even points to himself as if Cas could possibly be referring to anyone else in the empty studio.

Cas blinks. Then, he nods, patience and exasperation fighting for dominance on his features. In the end, understanding tinged with disappointment wins as he says, “if you’re not comfortable with this, I understand...”

“No,” Dean’s mouth blurts out before his brain has time to process Cas’ comment. “I said I’d help you with your project and I will.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asks hopefully, fidgeting with the paintbrush in his hands.

No. “’Course I am.”

Cas’ face lights up in appreciation and the butterflies in Dean’s stomach flutter up a storm cause they clearly have nothing better to do. Still, the look on Cas’ face when Dean accepts his challenge is enough to put the misunderstanding behind them and let go of his uncertainty.

Until it’s time for Cas to paint on Dean.

When Cas originally asked Dean to help him with his assignment, Dean thought he’d pose for a couple hours and Cas would paint him like a 16th century monarch (never mind that Dean wanted Cas to paint him like one of his French girls). And he was cool with that, hell, he even looked forward to it (spending time with Cas, that is, not holding the same position for who knows how long). Dean even did some stretches and practiced holding various positions for several minutes.

Nothing could have prepared him for Cas scooping up some brown (”it’s not brown, Dean, it’s called ‘Burnt Umber’”, whatever the hell that means) paint on his brush, walking into Dean’s personal space like he owned it (he did, good God he did), and painting broad strokes onto Dean’s pale, freckled chest. Dean shivers the second the cold paint touches his skin and Cas barely gives him time to adjust to the temperature and weird sensation of bristles on his skin before he goes to town painting...whatever the hell he’s painting.

Cas furrows his brows and Dean watches him stick his tongue out in concentration and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“So, uh, this paint safe for people?” Dean asks fighting a shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature of the paint and everything to do with the way Cas gently places his hand on Dean’s waist as he paints jagged lines across Dean’s chest.

Cas pauses to look up at Dean. “Of course.” he answers. “I would never ask this of you if I knew it wasn’t safe.”

Dean distractedly nods his understanding, his attention split between the sparkle in Cas’ clear blue eyes and the unfamiliar yet warm feeling ballooning in his chest. He looks away and forces himself to pay attention to his surroundings, afraid he might say something stupid if he continues staring into Cas’ eyes like that.

As far as college level art classes go, this one’s no different than most. It’s got several easels, canvases, paint brushes, and tubes of paint scattered all over the floor, tables, and open drawers. The sunlight streaming from the three floor-to-ceiling windows light up the room more than the dollar store bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The dark grey walls are littered with murals in various stages of completion: sketched out, drawn, half painted and painted. Dean briefly wonders where the artists are and why they never finished before his eyes land on the creepy skeleton in the far right corner. It doesn’t have eyes, but Dean swears Michaelangel-Bones (as the art students named it for reasons Dean will never understand) stares at him.

Having had his fill of the offending decoration in the corner, Dean turns to face Cas only to frown when he doesn’t immediately spot his friend. Motion captures his attention and he looks down to see Cas, on his knees, in front of Dean, getting some green paint before carefully painting small strokes across Dean’s stomach, one hand on his waist.

Dean’s brain stops working and his heart, doing the exact opposite, pounds so fast he’s surprised it doesn’t beat out of his chest like they do in cartoons. But why would it, when it’s too busy pumping blood down south?

Dean tears his eyes away from the incredibly attractive sight of Cas on his knees and faces Michaelangel-Bones as if the skeleton’s gonna help him keep it in his pants. Although, weirdly enough, thinking about the disturbing skeleton whose not-eyes follow him around the studio actually does help Dean squash down his inappropriate thoughts about his roommate. Just to be on the safe side, he conjures a few very unsexy images (the time he accidentally walked in on his parents doing the horizontal tango, him and Charlie pigging out at the local buffet, stuffing their mouths and making gross faces at one another) all in an effort to get Little Dean under control.

Once his thoughts, feelings, heart, and Little Dean are all under control, he risks glancing down at Cas.

Cas who’s carrying on, painting God-knows-what on Dean’s stomach, casual as can be, completely oblivious to Dean’s internal monologue, seemingly unaffected by being practically face-to-face with Little Dean. He’s staring at Dean’s pudgy stomach with the same intensity as earlier when he was painting Dean’s chest.

All of Dean’s hard (heh) work making sure Little Dean behaves himself almost goes out the window when he notices Cas is sticking his tongue out a little in concentration and Dean wishes he was using his tongue for something else.

Dean berates himself for going down that road before thinking unsexy thoughts again, Don’t think about that, think about the time we didn’t realize Miracle was a girl until she had puppies. He better get his thoughts about Cas under control before he runs out of unsexy thoughts and Cas ends up coming face-to-face with Dean’s feelings for him. The last thing Dean wants is to make things awkward between them by being forced to admit he’s been in love with his best friend for years because said friend notices his boner.

"Done with the front," Cas chimes in. Thank God, Dean thinks, the torture is over. Dean's heart rate begins to slow down a bit and his thoughts settle. He relaxes.

That is, until Cas says, "Now it's time for the back," his voice a bit deeper than usual, giving Dean a nervous yet appreciative smile and Dean's heartbeat spikes all over again.

He returns Cas' smile, hoping he doesn't look as nervous as his friend did while trying not to let his mind run wild with possible explanations for Cas' nervousness.

Instead, Dean focuses on Cas and his friend walks around him, deliberately not facing Dean, squeezes out some light blue and some yellow paint onto his clear, paint-covered pallet, cleans his current brush and gets a new one.

Dean clears his throat. "So, uh, whatcha workin' on?" He asks in an effort to distract himself, fidgeting with the hem of his jeans. It's not that he's not interested in what Cas is doing, whatever it is he's doing, it's just that he really needs a distraction from the heat of Cas' hand on his waist.

"I'm painting a tree on your chest and the rest of the garden on your back." Cas responds just as his brush begins to paint long, broad strokes across his tailbone.

Dean shivers from the touch which only makes Cas squeeze his waist and now Dean's shuddering for a completely different reason.

"Dean, I need you to stay still, please." Cas reminds him, stern but not unkindly, pausing his process while Dean gets himself under control.

"Sorry." Dean replies. Once Dean is still, Cas continues painting across his back. It tickles a little as the bristles leave trails of cold, wet, and slightly slimy paint over his muscles.

Dean feels more than sees Cas’ precise brushing motions, feels Cas’ hot breath heat up the goosebumps adorning his skin and his breath hitches.

Cas stops painting.

Dean looks over his shoulder to find Cas already staring at him. He meets Cas’ gaze and swallows. “Everything alright, Cas?” Dean speaks softly into the space between them, which, Dean notices, isn’t much.

“Dean, I...” Cas trails off.

This close, Dean can see his friend’s dilated pupils and he’s certain his are, too. “Yeah, Cas?” Dean asks softly and tentatively, worried that if he speaks too loudly it’ll ruin the moment between them, pop it like a bubble. He swallows again, somewhere in the back of his mind wondering when his mouth got so dry.

Cas responds by leaning into Dean’s space and all his thoughts about his feelings for his roommate ruining their friendship fly out the window as Cas lightly rakes his nails up Dean’s side, over his shoulder blade, and down his arm.

Dean shudders in response, loving the feel of Cas’ hand on his body, although he wishes the guy would put both hands on him.

Cas’ hand slides down his Dean’s arm slowly, as if afraid going any faster might scare Dean off.

Once Dean feels Cas’ hand in his own, he intertwines their fingers and squeezes his hand as if to say I’m not going anywhere.

The soft look in Cas’s eyes becomes so intense, Dean’s surprised his pupils aren’t heart-shaped like in cartoons. Nevertheless, he returns Cas’ heart eyes and he swears he stops breathing and his heart stops beating in his chest as the world around them disappears.

No more sunlight streaming through the windows, no more Michael Angel-bones staring creepily at Dean, no more cold, wet paint drying slowly on his skin; only him and Cas and the small space between them that keeps getting smaller and smaller until their lips brush.

He distantly hears Cas’ paintbrush clatter as it falls on the floor but Cas runs his now empty hand through Dean’s hair and nothing else matters except closing the all but nonexistent space between them.

He’s not sure who moves first, only that one second there is a space between them and the next second Cas’ chapped, pillow-y lips are on his.

The angle is awkward and hurts Dean’s neck but it’s worth it because the kiss is sweet and gentle and everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.

They part only when they run out of breath and Dean rests his forehead on Cas’. They keep their eyes closed a little while longer, still a bit dazed from their kiss.

After a few moments, Dean slowly turns around. He opens his eyes and takes in the sight of Cas' unruly hair, heart eyes, the tiny blush coloring his cheeks, and his spit-slicked lips. Gazing into Cas' eyes, Dean finally understands what that funny yet warm feeling ballooning in his chest is.

Love.

"I love you," Dean blurts out, his mouth moving faster than his brain can keep up. He looks down at Cas' shirt collar, unable to meet his gaze, afraid of what he might see.

"I love you, too," Dean looks up at Cas' wavering tone. Cas' eyes are watery and Dean wipes the single tear streaming down his face.

"You - you do?" Dean whispers in disbelief. Somebody pinch him because he must be dreaming if his hot best friend actually reciprocates. "L-love me? Like, love me, love me?" Dean clarifies. It's stupid and he's well aware it is but he has to know, he has to make sure Cas doesn't mean it in the friend way.

"Yes, Dean," Cas answers in a steadier voice with a chuckle and Dean's heart soars. "I love you, love you."

Dean wraps his arms around Cas' neck and pulls him in for a desperate kiss.

Cas must have been expecting it because he wastes no time wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and giving as good as he’s getting.

They make out for several minutes, only pausing to breathe, letting their lips do all the talking, their kisses saying everything they've never dared speak out loud.

Eventually, Cas breaks the kiss and Dean whimpers at the loss of contact. As they separate, Cas’ shirt peels off of Dean’s chest, which feels really tacky. Dean and Cas wear matching grimaces as they take in the paint on Cas’ shirt. It’s the mirror image of the tree and grass painted on Dean’s chest except the edges are smeared making it look like a blurry photograph.

Dean stares at Cas’ shirt a little longer before the realization that he ruined Cas’ painting hits him. The color drains from his face as he looks at Cas with wide eyes. “Your painting, Cas, man, I am so sorry —”

Cas meets his look and his grimace gives way to a small smile and he lifts one shoulder in a shrug, as if to say what can you do? “Dean,” he interrupts, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I ruined your —” Dean tries.

“Dean, it’s alright.” He reassures. “You didn’t ruin anything.” A pause. “And if I recall correctly —” he smirks as his cheeks fill with a rosy pink color, “— I am equally to blame for ruining my project.”

Dean glances at Cas’ discarded paintbrush on the ground, rubbing the back of his neck at the memory of them making out moments ago. “Still…” Unconvinced and a bit guilty despite Cas’ reassurance, Dean prompts.

“Besides,” Cas grabs his hands. “I have more important things to do.” Cas gives him a very heated and suggestive look. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Dean swallows, hard, and nods a response, speechless at Cas’ words. He’s never really seen this side of his roommate and best friend but he is not complaining and plans on taking full advantage of this newfound discovery.

And in the middle of the day, in the middle of the art classroom, he does just that, Cas’ painting long forgotten in favor of doing another kind of project.

#sapphirecobaltwrites #Destiel fanfic #inbox asks #fanfiction prompts #college au #asks: contemplative pancakes #artist cas #model dean

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mettlekettle · 4 years

Text

Sweet Creature-Harry Styles x fem!reader

Okay, here’s more of me projecting my fantasies onto Harry lmao. This is cottagecore husband!Harry and its literally just fluff, so enjoy it. This one is kind of edited but if there’s mistakes it’s totally my fault, I tend to skip over a lot of things because I have no one to read it over for me.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.1k

Description: Harry takes a break from music, y/n is very grateful, and Finnegan just wants to swim.

After Harry and y/n’s wedding, Harry wanted to spend as much time with his new wife as possible. y/n wanted that too, but she never expected him to go on hiatus as he did; he posted a short message on his social media stating that he was taking at least two years away from the public eye to spend time with his life partner and his family. He surprised y/n with a house in the French countryside soon after their honeymoon in Italy. Harry remembered that y/n had always wanted to live in a cottage, never liking the modernity of any of his mansions or other properties.

This new house was small, just two bedrooms, the extra for when a friend or family member wanted to visit. Their little cottage was placed on acres of land, their nearest neighbours being a few miles away. Harry wanted to make y/n feel like she was living in a fairy tale, so he kept a lot of the land in its natural form, filled with wildflowers, trees and tall grass. Some areas were prepared to grow food; the couple grew many different fruits and vegetables. They even got some animals, including an orange cat named Cinnamon, a sheepdog named Finnegan (they called him Finn for short), a few cows, pigs and sheep. They enjoyed the work the land brought them and even added more things to their land as time went on. A pond filled with lily pads, that y/n asked Harry to have installed when she noticed some frogs in the trees, and a stone pathway that led through their property and into the woods; at the end of the path, in the woods was a circle of stone, that had a bench that the couple liked to relax on in their free time. They fell into a routine that to many people would be boring, but to them it was their lives, that they wouldn’t trade for anything.

It was around ten in the morning when Harry woke up. He looked over at his love, asleep under the white comforter. Her hair was a mess over her face and the strap of her silk nightgown fell down her shoulder. He thought y/n looked so beautiful with the morning light hitting her face, Harry actually thought she looked beautiful all the time but especially when her face was relaxed like this, which happened a lot recently. He was so happy that he could make her dream come true like this, no matter how much she told him he didn’t need to. He ran the back of his hand over her cheekbone, admiring her soft skin. Suddenly Cinnamon jumped up on the bed, his tail high in the air as he moved towards Harry, when the small cat got close to Harry he let out a soft meow. This let Harry know it was time to get up and feed his family.

“Wake up dove,” he murmured, tucking his face into her neck. He knew the hair on his face would wake her up. y/n loved his new moustache, and she loved the way it felt on her skin. y/n shifted and he tried again, rubbing his face on her again.

“C’mon angel, we’ve got to feed the animals,” he spoke softly. Her eyes blinked open, squinting at the light. When y/n took in her surroundings a smile appeared on her face, she looked up at Harry before croaking out in her morning voice,

“Thought this was a dream,” y/n can’t believe she gets to be woken up by the love of her life in her dream home, it was like she lived in a fantasy. Harry chuckled before throwing the covers off them both and getting up. Goosebumps erupted on her skin, and she let out a small whine, at the chill of their home.

“Let’s go Cinnamon! You too Finn, it's breakfast time!” He cheered at the small orange cat and the dog sitting on the floor beside their bed. As Harry left the room y/n sat up and looked around, she pulled on the blue knit cardigan that was sitting on a chair in their room and padded into the kitchen. She cringed at the cold tiles, turning back into their bedroom to put on a pair of fuzzy socks. When she came back Harry was cutting fruit for their breakfast.

“Nectarine?” he asked. y/n nodded softly before going to start the coffee. She pulled down a mug for Harry and a mason jar for herself. She grabbed the oat-milk from the fridge and began to make herself an iced coffee. She made Harry’s after as it was just black coffee. She loved her husband, but he had horrible taste in drinks, taking his coffee without any milk or sugar. y/n placed the drinks at their small kitchen table before ambling her way back over to Harry sleepily and wrapping her arms around his bare waist from behind. She pressed soft kisses to his spine causing him to shiver. Her hands smoothed over the soft skin of his back, curling around his shoulders to massage him gently. Harry let out a satisfied groan. He finished cutting up the fruit for their breakfast and placing it into two bowls. Harry walked towards the table with y/n still attached to him. He sat down pulling her into his lap. They ate quietly, the pair never felt like they needed to fill the silence, completely content listening to the birds chirp, and Cinnamon and Finn eating their breakfast as well. y/n had a fruit salad with strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, half an apple and a nectarine from their garden. Harry had the same thing, taking the other half of the apple, but he also included Greek yogurt and granola in his. She sipped her drink, looking at her husband, admiring his tattooed chest and arms, he didn’t notice, too busy eating his breakfast.

y/n stood up when she finished eating and kissed his forehead.

“Thanks for breakfast, Goose,” y/n praised before heading back into their bedroom to get ready for the day. She picked out a burnt orange dress that buttoned up at the center. y/n quickly brushed her hair and clipped back pieces she didn’t want in her face, she then made her way to the bathroom. She didn’t put on any makeup, but began her elaborate skincare routine. Harry made his way into the bathroom as well, now dressed in a brown striped sweater and a pair of corduroy pants. They brushed their teeth side by side while Harry made faces at her in the mirror to make y/n giggle. They went to the front door and slid on their shoes, ready to tend to the land.

“I’ll do the pigs,” Harry said before sliding out of the house. She watched him make his way to the barn, then she too began her day. y/n was tasked with letting out the cows and sheep, with the help of Finnegan, of course. She followed the hairy dog to the barn they kept the cows and sheep in at night to keep them warm. y/n opened the door before smiling.

“Hi ladies!” she spoke to the cows, “ready for the day?” She asked, and although she didn’t receive an answer that didn’t bother her. The fluffy cows ignored the overly cheery girl and made their way outside. They filed out to the pasture where they began to graze on grass. She then moved onto the sheep, letting them out as well. She checked on all the animals and made sure they were content before walking the stone path back to the house where Harry was waiting for her. He had a bit of mud on his face that she giggled at as she drew near. y/n took her thumb and wiped at his cheek.

“Can never keep the mess in the pig pen, huh?” she teased. Harry flushed and smiled cheekily.

“Can’t blame me pet, they’re practically begging me to get in with them,” he mocked moving in to press a kiss to her lips. “What ‘ave we to do today?” he asked. y/n hummed looking around. She took a notebook out of the pocket of her dress, opening it and letting her eyes scan the list.

“We have to pick all the fallen apples, wanna to make an apple pie before your mum comes to visit.” She continued to prattle off things that need to be done around their home. They both agreed to do a few different things before going their separate ways.

They reconvened at two in the afternoon to have a lunch of croissants, raspberry jam and blueberry lemonade on the deck. They threw treats in the air and laughed as Finnegan caught them in his mouth. Cinnamon curled up on Harry’s lap and purred loudly. Afterwards y/n got up to hang their laundry on the clothesline outside. Harry continued to lounge about causing y/n to roll her eyes, she picked up a white dress and began to clip it.

“Hey rockstar, you could help me out y’know,” she suggested. Harry chuckled lowly, looking her up and down. He took in the way she looked, he loved watching her hips and the way she moved.

“I could, but m’really enjoying the view from here,” he replied, “v’got a really beautiful wife.” she giggled at his flirting before bending down to pick up a clothing pin, strategically facing her backside towards him.

“Don’t tease bunny, you’ll drive me wild,” he spoke again.

“Too bad we don’t have time for that, we have to start dinner soon.” she sighed. y/n brought the laundry basket back inside with Harry following close behind. She nearly tripped stepping into their home but Harry quickly grabbed her hips to steady her, he looked down at her lips as she stared into his eyes. y/n swiftly broke the trance, walking away from Harry before he had the chance to kiss her.

“M’being cock blocked by my own wife,” He groaned dramatically. y/n ignored him, stepping into the kitchen.

“Can you wash the vegetables for dinner?” She inquired. Harry hummed, nodding. y/n and Harry began to work on dinner, they added carrots, onions, potatoes, tomatoes, rutabaga, some different herbs and water to a pot before leaving it to simmer.

In the meantime they decided to have a bath to wash off the dirt from their day outside. As y/n got the bath started, Harry went around lighting candles and an incense stick to set the mood. She made sure the water was hot enough before adding some bath salts. They settled in the bath facing each other. Harry began to wash y/n’s hair, massaging her scalp. She thanked him when he was done and began on his hair. While she cleaned his scalp she pressed a few soft kisses to his nose and cheeks causing him to blush.

“Thanks baby, love you, s’much” he mumbled. She didn’t respond, only finishing on his hair and moving close to kiss his lips. He moved his hands to her waist, deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She carded one hand through his newly washed curls while the other rested on his jaw. Just as y/n moved into Harry’s lap they heard a splash. Finnegan had decided that he wanted to join their bath time and was now beside them covered in bubbles. The silly old dog loved water for some reason, Harry often had to pull him out of the pond. y/n laughed loudly as Harry groaned,

“S’not funny y/n, who d’ya think has to clean up this mess now?” he complained. y/n continued her giggles before stepping out of the tub.

“I think you do. I’m gonna go check on the soup while you and Finn finish your bath,” she chortled, “bye Goose! Bye Finnie!”

When Harry emerged from the bathroom y/n was standing at the kitchen counter stirring their soup. She was now dressed in black shorts, a blue tank top and a white cardigan that the couple often shared.

“Come taste this and tell me what it needs!” She called to him. She held a spoon with her hand below it, blowing softly as he neared. y/n held it up to his mouth, continuing to use her hand to stop any broth from falling on the tile. He hummed, looking into the pot.

“Basil? Maybe? I dunno doll you’re the chef in this relationship,” he advised.

“Wow, thanks for the help,” she mocked, “would you go cut the bread then, soup’s almost ready.” Harry obeyed, cutting them a few pieces of homemade sourdough, placing them in a wooden bowl before putting it on the table. He also made his way to the cellar to find a bottle of wine, he knew y/n would appreciate something sweet, after all his wife was quite the sugar fiend.When Harry arrived back on the main floor he poured them both a glass of wine and went to the bathroom. y/n soon placed two bowls of steaming soup on the table, taking a seat and waiting for Harry to return from washing his hands to dig in.

After dinner they sit in the living room, a Fleetwood Mac record softly playing in the background. y/n was reading a book on herbs and Harry was playing around on the piano, tinkering with song ideas. Despite being on hiatus, his love for music and overactive mind never stops. He still carries a worn brown notebook with him wherever he went and was constantly writing things that popped into his brain. When the album stops. y/n sits up slightly, disrupting Cinnamon’s sleep causing him to meow and jump off the couch.

“Harry?” she calls bashfully.

“Yes darling?” he responds, not looking at her. Her face warms at the prospect of what she’s going to ask him.

“Would you sing a song for me? Sweet Creature?” y/n wondered. He nodded, picking the guitar off the stand next to the piano. As he began the song y/n admired him, she was so lucky to have him, her boy, her sweet creature. She couldn’t imagine a life without him, he was everything to her, and she couldn’t believe that she was everything to him too. y/n often asked Harry to sing for her. She was blessed enough to hear him sing whenever she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take advantage of it. When he finished the song y/n claps and cheers for him.

“Always so good baby,” She cheered clambering up into his lap as he put the guitar down. Pressing firm kisses to his brow. Harry smiled and a light blush dusted his face. No matter how long they’d been together y/n had the same effect on him. She made him feel like a teenager with a crush all over again. y/n kissed his lips, pressing softly, they’d barely had a break to do this today, but she felt that it made the times they did get to kiss even better. Harry began to kiss back but y/n broke the kiss, her lips travelling to his cheek, and then his jaw. She rubbed the tip of her nose along the mole near his mouth before kissing it too. She moved down his neck when Harry began to yawn. y/n broke off, rubbing his jaw with her thumb.

“Tired, hmm?” she questioned. Harry’s eyes widened before protesting,

“No, no, please continue Dove.” she smiled at him.

“We have enough time Harry, we don’t need to rush. Lets go to bed and we can do this tomorrow,” she reassured him. He wasn’t quite used to having enough time in the week to do everything he wanted to do. They were so used to rushing before Harry had to jet off to another concert, photoshoot, or interview.

He sighed contentedly and nodded. y/n stood up walking to the bathroom to do her nightly skin routine. As she washed her face she could hear the water in the kitchen running meaning Harry was going to water their house plants. She paused her routine to help him. They had quite a lot, succulents in the kitchen where most of the natural light was, and other assortments of plants, a few ferns, and the areas that didn’t receive as much sunlight was littered with devils ivy. It took them about fifteen minutes to water all their plants. They wound up back in the bathroom, y/n finishing her skincare routine and Harry following along with his own half assed version. She never understood how her husband took so little care of his skin and still looked perfect. They brushed their teeth side by side again, the two of them too tired to try and make the other crack up. y/n changed into another silk nightgown before crawling into bed. Harry took off his shirt and pants and joined her. He pulled his wife into his chest, kissing her forehead a few times before closing his eyes. Harry was almost asleep when y/n’s voice woke him,

“Are you bored of this?” he hummed in confusion. “I mean, you’re just used to such a fast paced life and I remember once you said you don’t like to stay in the same place for too long because you get antsy. If you want to move back to London, I understand,” she spoke softly. Harry opened his eyes now, he can’t believe the love of his life doesn’t think he wants to be there. He turned her over so she was facing him. Harry could see the insecurity in her eyes; she didn’t think this was enough for him, she didn’t think she was enough for him. He cupped her cheek in his large hand, and admired how she leaned into his warmth.

“I wouldn’t trade this for anything baby. I love being here with you, and I love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around, you’re my everything,” he spoke lovingly. Tears began to form in her eyes, quickly wiped away by him.

“I love you too,” she whispered quietly, “m’sorry I still get so insecure, you shouldn’t have to reassure me so much.” Harry shook his head.

“S’okay doll, we're working on it, yeah? Just don’t keep it from okay?” he affirmed. Despite this new routine being nothing like his old way of living, he could do it forever, as long as his sweet creature was by his side.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles #harry styles x y/n

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amintyworld · 3 years

Text

Waterfall - Dream SMP Drabble

SUNSET (Part Two), SECRETS (Part Three), DOUBTS (Part Four)

Wilbur enjoyed campfires - specifically, the calming sensation of the world around him as everything began to sleep for the night. He sat on the round with a sigh as he heard the wind whistle through the trees above and he leaned his back against the tree trunk. Things were peaceful - Techno sat near the fire’s glow, sharpening his sword as Philza cooked their latest kill over the fire. Tommy ran through the field, catching fireflies in a jar, tripping and falling on rocks and roots every now and then, making sounds of triumphant glee when he managed to catch a few safely in the jar.

Wilbur felt the wind blow through his hair again, and he took off his beanie and let it tangle his brown curls. It was a tiring day, to say the least - they were trying to find some wild pigs and cows to bring home and had gotten lost, hiking for hours on end until they called it quits and made up camp. Wilbur wasn’t worried, though - Philza and Techno both had a good sense of direction.

“Dinner.” Philza called as Wilbur and Tommy both began to walk over and sit closer to the fire as Philza handed them a few bits of meat - warm, but never burning hot. It was moments like this when Wilbur remembered why Philza was the cook.

“Phil! Look, I got so many!” Tommy proclaimed as he held up his jar proudly, making Philza smile as he looked in the jar at the glimmering light bugs. “I showed my dominance over them, and they raced into the jar!”

Philza ruffed up Tommy’s golden hair slightly as he smiled warmly. “Good job, Tommy.” Tommy beamed as they both sat down and began to eat.

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

“I bet I can totally get you, just like the fireflies.”

“Sure, Tommy.”

“I can, I’ll kick your butt, just watch!”

“Nothing gets me off guard. Just practice.”

“Yeah, well... nothing catches me off guard either!”

“I can’t believe there’s fireflies out here - I haven’t seen them much around home.” Philza commented as he washed his hands in the nearby river. He turned to Techno and Tommy, chatting and laughing. “Come on, you two. You gotta wash up!”

“Phil...” The smaller child looked displeased as he walked toward the river with his brother. “I don’t wanna... besides, I’ve already wiped them off- HEY!” Before Philza could say a word in edgewise, the pink-haired child smirked as he pushed Tommy into the water with a splash. The river wasn’t deep, thankfully, but it was safe to say that Tommy’s hands were more than clean. Techno smirked as Wilbur laughed, and Phil couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Unfair! I wasn’t ready-!”

“You’re not supposed to be ready for a surprise attack, idiot-!” Techno remarked, his arms crossed with a joking expression.

“Well, you sure washed up, didn’t ya?” Wilbur added with a laugh.

“Alright, alright,” Philza said between laughs. “Come on, Techno - let’s help him out.” Philza said as Techno held his hand and he reached out the other to Tommy to pull him up. Tommy took Philza’s hand and pulled, hard.

Then all three of them fell back in the river with a splash. “Gotcha, bitch!” Tommy smirked, pointing at Techno as Wilbur burst out laughing. Philza just picked up his hat and put it on his head, water splashing all over his face as all of them laughed, soaked, splashing at each other as they tried in vain to get Wilbur as soaked as they were.

When they finally made it back to the fire, they shivered and shook, looking almost like drowned cats. They dried and soon enough, they were asleep as they always were - Tommy clinging to Philza’s side, Wilbur on their right and Techno on their left, always ready to protect.

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

Wilbur was usually up pretty early as the sun peaked over the horizon. he liked to go exploring by himself and usually mornings were perfect for that. He stretched as he got up, scanning his surroundings before grabbing his sword and sheathing it over his shoulder. he walked down to the river and smiled at the remains of last night - disturbed rocks and mud, and the footprints leading back to camp.

That’s when his ears picked up a sound... was that as waterfall?

He marched after it, following the sound and being sure to follow the river as to not get lost. He cut through the brambles and continued his journey when he froze. Someone was singing. It wasn’t perfect by any means, it sounded a bit rough here and there, but it still had its charm.

Philza always told him to be prepared for anything - looks and especially sounds can be deceiving. He slowly pulled out his sword and peeked over the brambles.

There stood a girl - well not really a girl, per se - her hair was strawberry blonde, cascading down her hair in a waterfall with a few braids here and there. She shivered slightly and hugged herself close as she snuggled in her magenta sweatshirt, sitting on the edge of a lake, her tail waving a bit in the water and making small waves in the lake. Wilbur did another once over as he tried to process the tail glimmering with a reddish tint, reminding him a bit of a salmon.

She was humming, but it became a bit harder to hear from the waterfall spilling into the lake at the farther end. Without thinking, Wilbur leaned over a bit more to be able to hear. Then, he slipped, falling down into full view of the mysterious woman as she gasped and dove into the water to escape. “Wait, wait I-!” But she was already gone. “I... just wanted to hear you sing.” He sighed, sitting on the edge of the water.

He slowly began trying to wash is hands and face off from the tumble into the dirt, and he struggled to remember what she was singing. He began to hum a bit, what he heard, or what he caught when he listened. Suddenly, he was pinned to the ground as a pinkish wolf jumped out of the water and pounced on him, growling. Wilbur scrambled for his sword. “I will not be lured in, Hunter. I will not let you exterminate me.”

“E-exterminate?!” Wilbur stuttered. “I swear, I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Don’t lie to me. Who sent you?! How’d you find me?!” The wolf looked angry and ready to tear Wilbur apart, as he tried in vain to grab his weapon.

“I...I heard your voice and... I was just following the river!”

Silence fell upon the two before slowly, the wolf’s expression softened. “That’s the truth?”

Wilbur looked to the wolf and he furrowed his brows in worry, he didn’t know what this thing was or what this wolf might do to him, but he stopped trying to reach for his sword. He closed his eyes, and took a breath. “I swear.”

Suddenly, the wolf backed off, and Wilbur opened his eyes to find the girl again, fully human. “If you’re lying to me, you’ll regret it.” She tossed him his sword. “Now get out of here.”

“Wait, I- How’d you do that?” Wilbur asked. “You were just... then you were...”

“I’m a shapeshifter.” She said, eyeing him with curiosity as she sat on next to the water. “I can change into anything, er, any animal.”

“That’s really cool.”

“It’s whatever.” She brushed off, shrugging. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”

“No, not really.” Wilbur admitted. “Not for a while, anyway. Can you show me how you leaped out of the water like that?”

For the first time since Wilbur saw her, she smiled. “Sure. What’s your name?”

“Wilbur.” He said. “You?”

“Sally.”

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

Philza trudged along the river, Tommy rushing in front and Techno trailing behind. “You sure Wilbur went this way?”

“Yeah.” Techno said. “He leaves a big enough trail for it, that’s for sure.” He pointed down on the footprints. “See?”

“Wonder what’s taking him so long, he usually would have headed back by now.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just got stuck somewhere.”

“Wilbur, is that a woman?!” Tommy shouted just beyond the trees, and Philza and Techno rushed to catch up. A splash could be heard, and Wilbur began arguing, admittedly very loudly, with the younger brother. Philza just sighed.

“You scared her off! Why do you always have to yell all the time-?!”

“Don’t get on me, if you have some kind of secret girlfriend you’re keeping from us-!”

“What’s going on, guys?” Philza asked, and the two began trying to explain, cutting each other off every chance.

“Well, I was just scouting up ahead and-”

“I was just talking to my new friend, and then he-”

“Enough.” He said, sternly. “Wilbur, what happened?”

“I, well, made a new friend, we were talking and then Tommy scared her away.”

“He met a woman, he has a girlfriend-” Tommy interjected, speaking matter-of-factly.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Wilbur snapped, a bit flustered at the accusation.

“Where is she now?” Philza asked calmly.

Wilbur sighed. “She ran away. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“I thought you didn’t like goodbyes.” Techno pointed out, and Wilbur just sighed.

“Yeah, well, she deserved one.” Wilbur brushed off,

“Looks like Wil’s on LOOOVVVE-!” Tommy sang, and Wilbur gave him a glare. Then, a stream of water hit Tommy in the back of the head and he turned, rubbing his head where a bruise was sure to form. “HEY-!”

And there, on the side of the lake, was Sally.

#dream smp #wilbur soot #philza #dadza #tommyinnit #technoblade #sally the salmon #sleepy bois inc #wilbur x sally #my writing #dream smp fic #drabble #dream smp drabble #young sleepy bois inc #tw cursing

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ladyhallen · 3 years

Text

The Making of a Sanctuary

Read on AO3

(no link to FFN, because it’s freaking misbehaving. It’s on time out at the moment.)

The first child of the Sanctuary was a boy.

He was a street urchin but Harry, passing by him on the street, felt the magic and paused. With a distracted air, Harry rummaged through his bags and produced a piece of bread.

Harry handed the child the bread and left.

But the child remembered.

The next day, when Harry realized that he needed more cheese, he passed by the same child and gave him another piece of bread.

The child devoured the bread, latched on to Harry’s cloak, and then doesn’t let go.

Harry looked at the boy with complete and utter bewilderment and just sighed. He found it a bit difficult to say no to children. It was a really bad weakness that was exploited with the puppy eyes mercilessly.

They’re like locusts and multiply.

The first child grabbed another one, and another one, and before Harry knew it, there’s an entire group of children living with him.

“We can’t keep living off of bread and cheese,” Harry said with some shock, because he hadn’t realized how many children there were with him. “And oh Merlin, what are you all wearing?”

The first one gave him a look, being bolder and less afraid of him. “It’s better than sleeping cold.”

Because of course, everyone was sleeping by the fireplace. Why hadn’t he noticed? He knew he could get preoccupied inside his head, being in the past made it especially worse, but this was ridiculous. By his count, there were fifteen children around him, eagerly pressing into each other for warmth.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he groaned. “I know I can get distracted, but this is ridiculous.”

With a wave of his wand, he conjured them all some blankets. It would disappear in two hours but it was better than the rags everyone was wearing.

“Now, let’s fix this. Rooms, right,” he muttered. But I also need some wood.” He glanced out and smiled. “How convenient, there’s a forest right there.”

Harry worked with a lot of children scurrying around underfoot.

Magic may have made things easier, but it didn’t fix everything. He still had to chop up the wood with precise slicing spells, peel off the bark and then speed up the drying process. Afterwards, measuring and then covering everything in varnish.

All the while, the idea of dorm rooms entered his mind and he knew how he wanted things to look like. Because he might not have planned for children, but these children only had him.

Next, he enlarged the space as he worked.

It took immense focus but he knew that it could happen. Newt Scamander could fit an entire world inside his suitcase, Harry could fit entire dormitories behind his pantry.

“What are we going to do for beds?” Simon, the first child, asked him.

Harry pursed his lips in thought. “I can make beds, we have enough wood to make furniture for all those rooms. It will require cotton and cloth though.”

That was a thought. Harry needed cotton and cloth and they also needed more food than just bread and cheese. Harry…might have to buy some animals.

“What do we need?” Harry murmured, sitting on the floor and surrounded by a circle of children as they divided a loaf of bread and a wheel of cheese. There was also a bowl of vegetable soup, one of the few things he could make without burning down the kitchen. It was a testament to how tired everyone was with the bread and cheese that the soup had absolutely no leftovers.

“Clothes,” Lina said, looking at her ratty old shirt. “A place to wash.”

“Food,” Simon piped in.

Harry could go to gardens and get some seedlings, no need to buy things. Some places even had wild vegetables and a good Point Me charm would solve that. He also needed clothes, bed sheets, mattresses and winter clothes - it was getting colder.

The animals though. He could buy them in the muggle world so it would be cheaper, but it would take some money, which he did not have.

“We need to brew,” he sighed. “Who knows how to chop?”

Harry took one week teaching the children different potion techniques.

Slicing, dicing, chopping and their differences were taught. He never realized children had such attention spans. They practiced on vegetables and Harry’s soup making skills were getting better and better.

“Okay, that’s sufficient. Now, we need potion ingredients and a good store to sell our potions afterwards,” he said.

The only store that would accept such shady practices (because you needed a license to brew, which Harry absolutely does not have) would be one in Knockturn Alley.

This time, he placed his foot down. “You’re all staying in the house. Where I’m going is not good for children.”

As one, they all rolled their eyes at him but did not argue.

It took more than a hundred potions before their funds could be sufficient and Harry gained a permanent wrinkle in his forehead from the stress. Being in charge of the health and well-being of more than a dozen little individuals was very stressful, especially if you were an unlicensed time-traveler.

Harry bought two pairs, a male and a female, for each animal. There were pigs, cows and chickens for their produce, which would help immensely for the food problem. He also bought sheep for their wool.

“Flax seeds,” he remarked, looking at his list. “I think I found the solution to the cloth problem.”

Flax seeds were unmagical and could be fast grown and fast harvested. Then, he figured out how to enchant a loom to weave it into bolts of cloth.

“It’s so pretty,” Katy said with awe. “But. Harry, isn’t it a bit boring, to be plain white?”

Harry looked at them all and was encountered with a dozen puppy eyes.

“…Dye’s. A lot of them,” he muttered reluctantly.

He pretended not to see the children exchanging a high-five behind him.

It would be so much easier, Harry realized halfway into transforming his house into a secret place for orphaned and neglected children, if he had someone to work with.

But given that what he was doing was breaking about a hundred laws, he really didn’t want to implicate someone with him.

His kitchen was already a teeming mess of food and soup was always bubbling in the stove, somehow never boiling over and also never running out, no matter how many children ladled out bowls.

His pantry was always expanding, meat and eggs somehow multiplying without his knowledge. And milk was never running out.

His vegetable garden never seemed to run out of produce either, carrots, beans and potatoes always popping out of the ground whenever he needed some.

His cloth room, formerly just housing one lonely loom and one lonely dye area, was having three stations and continually making more bolts of cloth than he knew what to deal with.

Even the Potion’s area was expanding, somehow having fifteen working stations and ten rows of potions cupboards organized alphabetically.

Something was always going on and he was permanently frowning with worry.

Children weren’t supposed to learn how to brew advanced high grade potions at the age of eight, nor were they supposed to know how to cook, clean, do laundry or tend to plants.

But the children he had gotten were all mature beyond their years, scars marking them from the very people who were supposed to love them unconditionally. And they all loved Harry and knew he was doing his best to give them a home.

Harry eventually realized by the time he had fifty children that he needed to set an age limit.

Because if he didn’t, none of the children would ever really leave and then he would be stuck with a hundred of them. He loved them and he knew that the Sanctuary was supposed to be a place to have a childhood.

So he started setting up apprenticeships.

Simon, a budding arithmancer, got an apprenticeship to a wardmaster. Lina with her sewing skills was apprenticed to Madame Malkin. Jessica, the sweet child, was apprenticed to a librarian until she realized what she wanted.

All of the children needed help and he set out and found them work and different houses. And all of them realized this and quietly packed their bags and left.

Harry still kept in contact with them via owls and the occasional visit. And he missed them even if there were always new children coming to him. But he never mourned. Because it was at this time that he started noticing something.

The Sanctuary was starting to gain sentience.

It made some sense, given that once an object was in magical presence long enough and loved enough, they tended to gain a personality.

The Sanctuary had housed a lot of children and all of them loved it in their own way. And all of those children had been magical.

By the time he realized what was harvesting the garden, cleaning the house, unclogging the toilets and keeping the kitchen stocked, he had gone through three generations and there was an unofficial network of people that apprenticed his children without his prompting. People he remembered, children he remembered, all of them growing old, but…he remained the same.

“Circe’s wand, what have I created?” he murmured.

A singularity. He had created a singularity because the children needed him.

Hogwarts, while just as loved, was not a singularity but a nexus. It didn’t exist beyond time like the Sanctuary, but it had a draw to it that made it attractive to everyone. His Sanctuary, on the other hand, existed only to those who needed it.

Harry knew that if he spent decades away from the Sanctuary, he would start to age. The children were immune, the Sanctuary didn’t own them in the way it owned Harry. His blood and his magic went into the house. The children were only guests.

He had accidentally bound himself to a singularity and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

Harry started to have no concept of time.

Oh, he knew the days were passing, and he knew what month it was. But the years passing by he viewed them as just any other day.

He didn’t really need to keep track of holidays, the house decorated itself and nudged him to remember. He only really remembered about the start of term, because all those children needed him for book shopping. Two months before the start of term, he would start a frenzy of brewing just to be able to afford everything.

Thank Merlin that Wizarding Currency hasn’t changed since the Goblin Wars.

All the children that passed, he remembered. The memories might be blurry, but he knew all of them. He kept memory strands for each child, in case his memory ever faltered.

And then Tom Riddle requested Sanctuary and Harry became acutely aware of the passing of time.

Cute, teenage dark lords with wounded, angry eyes and a desperate need for praise.

Cute, teenage dark lords, who looked at the Sanctuary and seemed not to understand the age limit.

Cute, teenage dark lords, who wanted to stay forever.

Harry would bang his head on the wall if the House would allow it.

When he’d accidentally travelled back in time, he had a plan.

Buy a house, keep quiet and don’t make any trouble.

Looking up at the deceptively small house, he knew that plan was thrown out the window since the first child looked up at him and tugged at his cloak.

“Harry!” called a young, high voice. “Harry, I already rang the dinner bell, didn’t you hear?”

“I’m coming!” he yelled back, pausing briefly to pluck an apple tree that he’s sure he did not plant there.

The Sanctuary was sentient and it had absolutely no qualms in growing how it wanted, asking no input from Harry.

This was not in his plans, but he had no complaints.

#fanfiction #harry potter #tom riddle #sequel to the Sanctuary and the Bar #time travel #my writing #hp #hp post

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